HELLO HELLO! Happy New Year! Let me say up front – the sequel IS NOT ready yet! But I wanted to update because I'm excited and also wanted to give a sneak peak.

So, update. The current fic is fully outlined and halfway written, and is already the length of the first one…so this one will probably be twice the length of the first :D and there are a lot of great moments too. I'm also proud that I actually managed to put in Lucy, Mrs. Norman, Mew, Giovanni, and tie off some loose ends of the original fic. Writing is going well…sort of. I write five chapters in two days and then get stuck on one scene for a few months. But when I've written this much, I KNOW it will be finished…eventually ^^'

I also wanted to let my readers that I am moving totally to Archive of our Own, so the fic probably won't be found here.

Until the entire fic is completed, anything is subject to change. But there's so much more to explore in this aspect of Pokémon, and I'm eager to do it. Thanks for reading! That all said, enjoy!

"Tim. I got one."

Tim turned and gave his Dad a concerned look. "Now? Really?"

The two of them, and Pikachu, were crouched down behind a set of trash cans by a warehouse. It was Tim's first official serious case—a kidnapping. Of course, tracking down the illegal chemical R with the one and only Mewtwo had come with its own dangers, but that had been off the record. This was the first time Tim's Dad and the Ryme City Police Department had entrusted him with a case more serious than a lost Squirtle or rampaging Torchic. A rare Pokémon had been stolen from its celebrity human owner and was likely to be sold on the black market—tragically common for semi-pseudo legendries these days. Several officers had taken the case and were investigating, but Tim and Harry had used their incredible, amazing, very intelligent world-class detective skills to ask Mewtwo for help, who had located the criminals in this warehouse in less than two hours.

"It's a good one," Harry went on, a gleam in his eye. "You know how we're hiding, right?"

"Yes, we are," Tim said grouchily. "So we should be quiet."

Harry ignored the jab and pressed on. "So why shouldn't you play hide-and-seek with a Pikachu?"

Harry's own Pikachu's ear twitched, and Tim sighed in defeat. Best to get this over with. "I don't know. Why?"

"Because they always peek-at-you."

Tim lifted a hand to his mouth to cover his groan (definitely not his smile). He'd been living with his Dad for five weeks now, and Harry was slowly adapting to his new role of active father. Some things he was brilliant at—teaching Tim to be a detective, showing him the city, guiding him while also allowing Tim freedom deserving of his adult age, all kinds of things Tim appreciated and enjoyed. But apparently it had only dawned on Harry a week ago that being a dad meant dad jokes. And he was taking on the challenge with the force of a charging Tauros.

"Great one, Dad," Tim forced out, while Harry looked immensely self-satisfied.

I do not understand, a deep voice rumbled in all their heads.

The edge of Tim's mouth quirked upwards while Harry pouted. "Stop making me explain my jokes, Mewtwo, they're not funny if I have to do that."

Well then, add 'invented the perfect counter to dad-jokes' to Mewtwo's long list of achievements. Right there with 'almost took over the world,' 'crushed pro-trainers in battles,' and 'became the best chef in the Goodman household.'

I would argue that if they need explaining, they were never funny in the first place, the accomplished legendary commented.

"Or you just have no sense of humor," Harry muttered.

Three weeks of living together was apparently enough time for Mewtwo to get familiar enough with Harry's and Pikachu's minds to isolate and communicate with them telepathically, without leaking his words to outsiders, just like how he could with Tim. The first time Mewtwo had done so, Harry had been quite alarmed, resulting in a narrow avoidance of spilling hot coffee over his boss, Lieutenant Yoshida, and having to come up with a story as to why he had randomly cried out in shock in the middle of the officers' lounge (the story had involved a very fast Shuppet).

Contrary to Harry's recent claim, Mewtwo had been quite amused about it.

"Hush up," Tim waved Harry back. "Mewtwo, what have you found?"

The kidnapped Pokémon and four humans are inside, Mewtwo answered, somehow balancing his psychic tone between gloating and unconcerned. I sense at least three other Pokémon as well, but there may be more. It is difficult to sense a Pokémon when it is inside a Pokéball.

"Ryme City doesn't allow Pokéballs," Tim muttered.

"But given that these guys have already broken several laws, it's not out of the equation," Harry said firmly. "If someone breaks one rule, they'll break another. Don't rely on the law, Tim."

In addition, Mewtwo continued smoothly, There are two garage doors for vehicles to enter and two regular doors. One of the latter is in the front, by the garage openings. The final door is in the back. I can place a crate in front of it to block that escape. There are also several windows, but they are high enough that I doubt a human can reach them without a Pokémon's assistance.

"Like an Alolan Executor!" Harry volunteered cheerfully. "They could climb up the Executor's neck to reach the windows."

Tim raised an eyebrow at his Dad, wondering why that particular plan had sprung first into his mind.

"Or any large flying-type," Tim pointed out more sensibly.

"But that's no fun, Tim," Harry said reproachfully.

Tim rolled his eyes. "How's the hostage, Mewtwo? Is she alright?"

She is scared but unharmed, Mewtwo reported.

"Good," Tim nodded, though he knew Mewtwo couldn't see him. "So how are we going in?"

Harry leaned his elbow on his knee, holding his chin thoughtfully. Pikachu mirrored the motion. "Well, it depends if the baddies will either flee or attack once they see us. Clever thugs would flee, because they would know that smart cops bring backup—"

"We didn't bring backup," Tim interrupted.

Harry gave him a disgruntled look and ticked off his fingers. "First off, we don't need it. We're world-class detectives. Second, the bad guys don't know that. And third, we have Mewtwo. Freaking Mewtwo."

In the back of his mind, Tim heard Mewtwo huff at the third point.

"Hmm," Tim said doubtfully, but didn't object. Harry had still basically just called himself stupid.

"Now, as I say saying before I was so rudely interrupted, if the thugs flee, they'll likely use a vehicle and go through the garage doors. If we shut down the vehicles, they'll go through the back. But the important part is, if they're smart and flee, then we have to catch them quick or else they'll slip through our fingers. We'll have to be stealthy and get the drop on them, which we could do by going through the back. But if the thugs are dumb and attack us and try to take us hostage, then we don't have to worry about them escaping as much. That means we can just bust in through the front."

"How does that all help?" Tim said, exasperated. "Those are two entirely different scenarios, and we have no way of telling unless we barge in there and see what they do."

"Ugh, Tim," Harry groaned, reaching over to lightly knock Tim on the forehead. "I'm teaching you, silly. Use that brain of yours. We've facing a small group of lowlifes who have managed to capture a celebrity's rare, semi-pseudo-legendary Pokémon that was guarded by security at all times."

Tim's mouth twisted, thinking about it for a moment. "So they're…smart?"

I disagree, Mewtwo huffed. Locating their pathetically obvious hideout was child's play.

Harry glared up at the sky, where he often looked when he was speaking to Mewtwo when the legendary wasn't in sight. "That's because you're Mewtwo, Mewtwo. Not all of us have psychic powers, you know."

I did not track their minds, Mewtwo corrected haughtily. The criminals did not take care to hide their escape from Pokémon throughout the city. Many Pokémon residents had seen them come here. All I had to do was inquire.

Tim shook his head. "You still gave us an advantage. No other detectives are anywhere close to here. It would have taken us a couple extra hours to find this place without you, Mewtwo."

I estimate an extra day.

"The point being," Harry pressed on, "these thugs are the smart kind, which means…?" He trailed off and looked expectantly at Tim.

"We go through the back," Tim said.

"There you go, sport." Harry crossed his arms with satisfaction. "It also means they could have some tough, high-level Pokémon. So be ready."

Shouldn't I take the lead, then?

Harry shook his head. "`You got us here, Mewtwo, let us do some of the work. Plus it'll attract attention if you start tackling every crime in the city. Besides, Tim needs to learn, and we need someone to watch the perimeter. I just explained that these criminals will try to run. If any slip away from me and Tim, they'll be yours." Harry shrugged. "Basically, you're our last resort. Our secret weapon!"

Very well, Mewtwo said neutrally.

"In hostage situations, the top priority is always rescue," Harry went on, now getting more businesslike. "If we have to let some bad guys escape, that's fine if we get the hostage to safety."

"Shouldn't we call for police backup, though?" Tim asked.

The official attitude on Harry dropped like a hat that didn't fit right. "Tim, don't be such a rule-follower, we've got this."

Tim sighed and felt Mewtwo's vague amusement echo in his mind. Harry turned and started to head to the back of the warehouse, Pikachu hopping up on his partner's shoulder. Tim followed with some grumbling.

"Alright," Harry went on as they crept closer to the back door. "Pikachu and I will be the distraction with our blinding shininess," he said, totally serious. "You, Tim, will focus on disabling their cars and getting that Pokémon out."

"Aye-aye, captain."

They creeped like a trio of sneaking Sableye towards the back door. Harry reached for the doorknob to pull it open, and all three of them made cringing expressions as it squeaked like a Klefki with a stomachache. They all paused anxiously when it stopped, listening for some kind of cry of alarm or suspicious sound, but there were only some muffled voices drifting to them from inside.

They all quietly sighed in relief.

Tim kept himself ducked down enough that his hands were practically touching the floor. The warehouse seemed to be filled with delivery trucks currently, which provided convenient cover for them as the thug's voices grew closer.

"…How long until you think they track us here?"

"Depends on what leads they pick up on. I think we're safe for today, at least."

Harry stopped all of a sudden, and Tim, having been distracted by listening, got embarrassingly close to bumping into him despite them moving slowly. He awkwardly shuffled back as Harry turned around, looking weirdly like a Krabby with how he waddled around while squatting.

"Alright Tim," Harry whispered, and Tim leaned forward again to hear. "Here's a screwdriver."

Tim's eyebrows furrowed as Harry suddenly pulled out an all-purpose screwdriver from his jacket, completely out of the blue.

"Why do you have that?" Tim whispered back.

"Don't ask questions," Harry hissed. "Well, actually, we're detectives, so do ask questions, but not about that. The point is," Harry tapped the tip of the screwdriver, "I want you to sneak around and poke a hole in at least one tire in every vehicle in here."

Tim's eyebrows went up now. "Every vehicle?" he repeated, glancing around at the trucks surrounding them.

Harry nodded. "I'll give you ten minutes, and then Pikachu and I will confront the baddies."

"Ten minutes?" Tim whisper-hissed. How could he reach all the vehicles in the warehouse without being seen in that short amount of time?

"Stop repeating unnecessarily," Harry poked Tim's shoulder with the screwdriver. "It's okay if you don't get them all, just get as many as you can in that time."

Harry held the tool insistently out to Tim, but Tim refused to take it. "Why don't I just tell Mewtwo when I'm done and then he'll tell you?"

I believe that plan has better chance of success, Mewtwo piped in.

Harry frowned at the ceiling and Tim tried not to roll his eyes.

"Detectives need to be used to time-sensitive high-stakes situations," Harry argued.

"I've already been in time-sensitive high-stakes situations," Tim shot back.

I can attest to that, Mewtwo's voice echoed from no particular direction. And, for a human, his reactions were…above adequate.

Tim found himself smiling at the ceiling now. Thanks, Mewtwo.

"Even if we didn't have Mewtwo," Tim pointed out aloud, returning his attention to the original subject, "couldn't the two of us just put our phones on silent and then text each other?"

There was an awkward pause.

"Alright, fine," Harry huffed quietly. "Go do it your boring way then."

Tim rolled his eyes and finally took the screwdriver, starting to crawl away.

You might as well admit that your main motive was that you did not want to wait for more than ten minutes, detective, Mewtwo sent along.

Tim stuffed his mouth in his arm to prevent the risk of a small laugh escaping his mouth. He couldn't sense his Dad's emotions like Mewtwo could and Harry didn't make a sound, but he could imagine his Dad's petulant expression well enough.

Tim got on his way, poking holes in tires as he went, hoping that the thugs wouldn't hear the sounds of the tires deflating. It was a bit hard to jam the screwdriver into the rubber, but he managed. He paused during the lapses of conversation, most of which consisted about where else they could go if this location was blown. He was glad for Mewtwo's help, because it felt like more than ten minutes. Of course, it was hard to tell when each second prickled by, tension rising and falling like a Cacnea rolling up and down sand dunes.

There was an extra-long pause in the conversation after the criminals had agreed on a couple of different areas to go to if they thought this one was revealed, and Tim stopped moving, holding his breath for a moment. The gusts of air escaping the tires seemed loud to him, but it could be mistaken for the various sounds of the creaking warehouse.

"…How much do you think we'll get from this?" one voice finally said.

"From the ransom?" another nasally voice asked.

There was a light knocking sound, and Tim imagined someone being lightly hit over the head. "No, I meant from our Casteliacone business on the side. Yes, the ransom, idiot."

"We simply have to get as much as we can," a third voice tuned in, sounding almost melodic in how they mulled every word around like rolling stones. "As much as we can, as quickly as we can. Things are going to be different in Ryme City over the next few weeks."

Tim, who had started sneaking again and gotten to the next tire, paused as he leaned his weight onto the screwdriver. What was that supposed to mean?

"Yeah, duh things will be different," the first voice scoffed. "This city has been crazy for over a month now."

The thoughtful-thug hummed. "This, we will have to be more careful with."

"What are you talking about now?" a new voice cut in—the fourth member.

"I've already told you that after this job, we're laying low for a bit."

There were some quick footsteps before the first voice snapped out, "I thought because the cops will be after us, not because some disaster is happening. Again." Tim tried to focus on the task before him even as he listened. He felt the presence of Mewtwo lean more heavily into his mind, listening to the conversation as well. "What will it be this time? The Legendary Beasts want to have a race down our roads? Roger Clifford is evil after all and is going to release rabid Greninja on us? Please don't tell me it has anything to do with Groudon."

"Are the Legendary Beasts the muscular-cloud ones?" the second, nasally voice asked. "I like those."

"…Paranoid, much?" the thoughtful-thug drawled, the side comment. "Nothing of that sort. I just believe it would be best if we get this done and then get out of the way."

"You're seriously going to allude to some big incoming calamity and then leave us out of the loop?"

"We all have our parts to play, and some things are better kept secret," the thug dismissed airily. "And it doesn't concern us, not really. You know what you need to know."

Well isn't that annoyingly convenient, Tim thought bitterly.

Agreed, Mewtwo muttered into his thoughts. I don't suppose you'd let me invade his mind and find out what's made him so self-assured?

If we're about to capture him, then we can just ask him and find out, Tim argued. Let's try that way first before we break a brain.

I thought as much, Mewtwo responded, sounding resigned. You do like doing things the hard way.

Well when the easy way is 'leveling buildings,' then yeah, Tim shot back smugly.

That was one time—

"How do you even know about whatever this thing is?" the first voice snarked, sounding just as annoyed as Tim was.

"I keep my ears to the ground," the thoughtful-thug droned. "I pick up on things. Like the rotation of guards for this popstar's hotel."

There was a kicking sound against metal and a sharp yip that had Tim straightening.

Mewtwo? he called.

The hostage Pokémon is unharmed, just startled, he responded immediately. I have a bird's eye view now, from the top of the warehouse. He kicked the cage.

Tim relaxed, jamming the screwdriver into a tire. Then you can tell my Dad to get moving. That's the last car.

Dark amusement came from Mewtwo, like a chuckle without any sound. So now the fun begins.

Tim rolled his eyes a bit as he felt Mewtwo retract his focus from his mind, and only a few seconds later, a new voice rang out in the warehouse.

"Hi there fellas," Harry called. "Can any of you tell me where the bathroom in this place is?"

Rolling his eyes a second time, Tim started heading in the opposite direction of his Dad's voice. The celebrity's Pokémon would undoubtedly be kept in the center of the thugs so they could keep a close eye on it, but hopefully Harry would be able to distract them enough that Tim could slip by. So Tim peeked out from behind a car and was pleased to see his assumption was correct. Various crates and chairs were circled around the black carrier. Now Tim just had to wait for an opportunity.

"Who are you?!" one of the criminals shouted at Harry, as all the thugs shot to their feet.

Despite each of the four humans and their respective Pokémon (which included a Sandslash, Alolan Raticate, and a Vaporeon) taking fighting stances, Harry looked completely relaxed. He was leaning back, one hand tucked into a pocket and the other reaching up to absently pet Pikachu on his shoulders, who looked at the thugs like a Liepard eyeing up a Patrat.

"Name's Harry, nice to meet you," Tim's Dad said with a friendly salute. "I'm a man of many skills."

There was a small confused pause amongst the thugs before the thoughtful-sounding one managed to find words. "I hope one of those skills is surrendering, Harry," the crook said, "because you're outnumbered. Tell that Pikachu to stand down, or we'll obliterate you in battle." The Vaporeon rattled its ruff-fin at Pikachu challengingly, and Pikachu huffed and sparked his cheeks, carefully avoiding Harry's fingers.

"One of my skills," Harry went on, brushing past the threat, "is predicting the future, and I think that I would obliterate you in battle."

"What?" the first thug said bewilderedly, and Tim was likewise blinking in confusion.

Whatever. He could question his Dad's wacky ideas later, the point was, it was distracting the criminals, so Tim had to wait for the right moment to run in and free the kidnapped Pokémon.

"You know how I do it, predicting the future?" Harry said, a touch too ominous to be taken seriously.

"…Does the Pikachu know Foresight?" the nasally-voiced one whispered to the others.

Tim started creeping forward—they hadn't seen him yet.

Harry flashed a too-pleased grin. "I Pika-head."

Tim paused.

He slowly closed his eyes, resisting the powerful urge to groan, curl up on the floor, and cover his face with his hands.

Instead, he opened his eyes again and ducked a little lower. The black shaded carrier that the kidnapped Pokémon was in was only a few feet away.

"…What?" one of the criminals finally said.

Harry huffed, crossing his arms. "None of you laughed? Seriously?"

Perhaps because it was not funny, Mewtwo whispered in Tim's head, and Tim saw Harry's face twitch as if he'd heard it too.

Tim watched one of the thugs tilt his head. "That was a joke?"

"Okay, you know what?" Harry said flatly, "Let's just fight. Pikachu, Thunderbolt, please."

"Pi-ka!" the mouse Pokémon agreed cheerfully, leaping off Harry's shoulder, charging electricity midair, and letting out a resounding "CHUUUUUUU!"

In the flash of light and power, Tim leapt forward and grabbed the carrier, hastily ducking to the right as the lightning streamed left, heading right for the Vaporeon. The Vaporeon tried to dodge, but it was too wide a hit, and she took its full impact. Tim scurried away as the bolts faded, and the Vaporeon swayed and fell, defeated.

The Pokémon inside the carrier was yelping in alarm and Tim frantically shushed it. "Sh! I'm helping you!"

The yelps quieted down somewhat into a confused warble, but as Tim looked back up, one of the thugs—the nasally-voiced one—had turned around.

Their eyes met, both wide in surprise. "What—?"

"Raticate, Sandslash, use Bite!"

"Go, Toxicroak!"

The Raticate and Sandslash charged at Pikachu and a Toxicroak burst forth from its Pokéball to join the fight (So Dad had been right about the thugs using illegal Pokéballs). Tim scrambled to his feet and booked it like a Zubat out of the Distortion World. His job was to get the kidnapped Pokémon to safety—Harry could handle the battle.

But as Tim ran for the door, he heard the goon who'd seen him cry out to the others. "That kid has the Pokémon!"

Tim didn't bother to look back as he fumbled with the door handle with one sweaty hand, the other clutching the Pokémon's carrier.

"You two—go after him!"

Tim finally managed to get the door open and bolted out. He darted to the left, running down the street before zipping down an alleyway in hopes of losing his pursuers if he took a difficult path.

Do you need assistance, Tim? Mewtwo inquired into his head, tone amused.

Not yet—I think I can lose them!

Mewtwo's thoughtful hum reverberated in Tim's head before Tim focused on getting away. He was already breathing a bit heavily—the carrier was heavier than it looked. He heard voices behind him, but they were being overpowered by the increasing loud yipping from inside the cage.

Tim grimaced. His running was shaking the carrier which was undoubtedly uncomfortable and scary to the poor, already-terrified Pokémon inside, but there was no way Tim could get away from the thugs with it making such noise.

He ducked around a corner, pressing against the wall.

"Be quiet! Please!" Tim hissed to the carrier. "I'm trying to help you!"

Of course, the Pokémon couldn't understand him, but—

'We can feel what you're saying,' Tim's Dad had told him in the body of a Pokémon. Tim wasn't sure if it was something Harry had learned while being Pikachu or something he had just always believed, but Tim couldn't help but agreed wholeheartedly.

Tim tried to transmit the feeling as strongly as he could. And speaking helped. "I'm not here to hurt you," he whispered desperately. "I want to save you."

The cries from the carrier calmed down considerably, and Tim felt like he was being listened to. It was a warm feeling. The Pokémon inside scratched against the little dark holes for its breathing, hesitant and gentle.

Tim listened behind him, and he still heard the criminals, but they didn't sound too close. Maybe…

He crouched down, setting the carrier gently on the ground. There was a curious churr inside. The whole cage was black, with only a couple of holes poked through for air, but even those were covered with black fabric. There was no way to see inside, and no way for the Pokémon to see what was going on. But if Tim could free it, maybe the Pokémon could get away on its own while Tim led the thugs away.

Tim leaned over to look at the door of the carrier and his heart sank. He had been hoping it was just a lever, but there was a lock on it, a little code on its side. He tugged at it on the off-but-it-sure-would-be-nice chance that it would pop loose. No good. The thing was solid. Tim wouldn't be able to free the Pokémon without the code or something much stronger.

He felt another sad whine from inside the carrier as the Pokémon leaned up against the door hopefully.

Tim rested his hand on the door with an apologetic frown, thinking hard. Maybe he should call Mewtwo, he could get the cage open with only a thought. Tim didn't have psychic powers or claws, he was just a human, he had to be resourceful and inventive—

Wait. Wanting to kick himself for forgetting about it, Tim pulled out Harry's screwdriver. He jammed it in the edge of the carrier's door and tried to pry it open. He felt it starting to give…

Tim, Mewtwo called, You may want to get moving.

Tim looked up. The voices were closer now. Whispering curses much like his father, Tim pulled out the screwdriver, tucked it into his jacket, heaved up the carrier, and got going as quietly as he could. He was just about to turn the corner when—

"Over here!"

Abandoning stealth, Tim ran. He heard footsteps pounding louder behind him and he took another turn, trying to disappear from their view. He changed directions down an alley.

Tim wait—

Tim skitted to a halt.

A dead end.

Large metal storage crates were stacked before him under tarps, too tall to climb, blocking his way between the two warehouses on either side.

The thugs hadn't caught him yet, but Tim knew they were too close for him to backtrack.

This was a stupid design, Tim thought angrily to himself.

Well, Mewtwo commented, It was made by humans. Tim glared back in the direction of the original warehouse, where he was pretty sure Mewtwo was, and felt a huff of amusement. Do you need me to step in now?

Tim looked side to side. There wasn't much for him to use. Crates and tarps, tarps and crates, he tugged a tarp up to look underneath. A crate.

The Pokémon in the carrier chittered nervously. Tim bit his lip as the voices grew closer. They would be here any moment.

Not sure what he was doing, Tim shoved the carrier against the crate.

"Be quiet, okay?" Tim said to the Pokémon inside. "I'll be back for you. You'll be safe."

He heard a huff of air from the Pokémon as if it was trying to sniff him, but Tim tugged down the tarp as far as it would go, positioning it around the carrier to hide it best he could. He whirled around just in time to see the thugs coming towards him.

The faster thug—the nasally-voiced, buff one—was tall and covered in tattoos, even over his bald head. Skulls and various kinds of Pokémon speckled his arms. He had a nose ring that looked a bit weird on him, and Tim couldn't help but wonder if the mismatched look might have anything to do with the sound of his voice. He didn't appear out of breath from the chase, while his companion huffed and panted tiredly. The second thug was much shorter, with an ugly yellow hoodie and beanie hat. The black-furred Alolan Raticate ran at his feet, hissing at Tim with its puffed cheeks as it grew closer.

Tim put his hands up immediately as the thugs stopped before him.

"Where's the Pokémon!?" shouted the shorter thug.

"What Pokémon?" Tim asked, keeping his expression mildly surprised. He pointed at the Raticate. "That one?"

The man rolled his eyes. "This isn't 'Who's that Pokémon,' kid. Where'd you put it?"

"I left it behind ages ago," Tim tried, forcing his shoulders to stop creeping up to his ears and resisting the urge to shove the carrier further away with his foot.

"Where?" demanded the kidnapper.

Tim shrugged helplessly. "I don't remember."

The man put his face in his hands and let out a muffled scream of frustration.

"Wow," the tattooed thug said dumbly. "And they get mad at me when I lose the keys."

The shorter one lowered his hands to glare Honedges at Tim. Tim squashed his satisfaction as the man grabbed Tim's arm and yanked him forward. "We're going to go back to the hideout," he said, "where your friend will be defeated by now. And then we'll retrace your steps until we find it." The man leaned in towards Tim's ear. "Or your friend is going to get it."

Tim ducked away but the larger thug gripped his shoulder so he couldn't run. Without much of a choice, Tim was pushed back in the direction of the warehouse. The two thugs and the Raticate lumbered beside him.

You're doing marvelously, Mewtwo drawled in a way that made Tim picture the catlike Pokémon lounging on a roof, watching him. Now may I make an appearance?

Tim glanced back at the goons withholding him. They were walking out from the alley, leaving the carrier behind.

Not yet, Tim thought. Why don't you free the captured Pokémon? Stealthily, okay?

Mewtwo sniffed telepathically. Yet again, I shall prove that my skills in furtiveness are not to be doubted.

Uh-huh, Tim thought skeptically.

At this point, Tim mostly teased Mewtwo about not being stealthy just because it clearly got on the legendry's nerves, in a playful way. Whether or not Mewtwo was aware of this, Tim had no idea.

They were getting closer to the warehouse. It was funny how, despite Tim's frantic running just a few minutes ago, the docks were actually peaceful right now. It didn't look like a group of criminals were hiding out here. A group of delivery men could walk in at any time to retrieve or drop off goods.

They were only ten feet away from the door Tim had burst through when the garage door collapsed with a BANG, having been knocked off its hinges as the Sandslash tumbled through it like a cannon ball. Tim and the two goons jumped back in alarm, staring at the lying Sandslash with wide eyes. The pinecone-like spikes on its back rustled as it tried to push itself up on its long claws, shaking with the effort. But it wasn't able to get to its feet, and it collapsed, unconscious.

The three of them blinked at the limp Sandslash confusedly. Tim was the first to come back to himself, and he smiled.

Pikachu bounced onto the broken garage door, his fur a little scuffed up, but with a smile smug as a Fennekin's.

Harry was just a step behind him, swinging two pairs of handcuffs around on one finger as he gave a long, impressed whistle.

"Oh hey," Harry perked up at the sight of Tim and the two thugs. "Good timing."

"What?" the shorter thug finally managed to blubber. "But—your Pokémon was outnumbered, and had a typing disadvantage! How?!"

Tim started subtly backing away from the criminals as Harry shrugged. "Strategy. Level. Utilizing our advantage in speed. And Pikachu knows Iron Tail."

"Pika!"

Harry beamed proudly at the little Electric Mouse Pokémon. "That's right, you do." He turned back to the thugs. "Your friends and the Toxicroak are already handcuffed inside. My Pikachu is licensed to Tase humans, so I don't recommend trying him. I'm fairly confident he'll be able to take on your Raticate without a problem. So, you can surrender now and go down the easy way, or fight, and be uber-humiliated."

"You—I—" the shorter thug shook like an Electrode trying to Self-Destruct but hadn't quite managed it yet. "We still have the Pokémon hostage!" he managed.

"No they don't," Tim piped up, now a good ten feet away from the two criminals, a decently safe distance. "I stashed it. It's safe."

Already freed, Mewtwo offered. I told it to hide until we retrieve it.

Harry gave a wide, smug grin. "Cut your losses. Don't stay on a Lapras when it's about to Dive."

The shorter thug glared at each of them, while his tattooed partner shifted unsurely. The Raticate hissed at Pikachu, who smiled and flicked his tail, ready to strike when the moment came. They were all waiting for the decision.

Then, the shorter thug nudged his partner with his foot. "Let it out."

The tattooed man blinked. "Huh?"

"Let it out, I said."

"But—"

He swung his head to look at his partner, glaring fiercely. "Do it."

That doesn't bode well, Mewtwo commented idly.

The taller goon started reaching into his pocket, and Tim noticed a little circular outline in his baggy jeans.

"Pikachu, Thunderbolt!" Harry called.

"Pika-CHU!"

Bright sunshine-yellow lightning flashed across the space between them, latching onto the kidnappers. Tim watched as they cried out in alarm and he winced.

Most Pokémon knew fairly well how much damage a person or Pokémon could take before they were seriously harmed. Pikachu, as a Pokémon of a police department, was specially trained and certified to electrocute people when the situation called for it. Tim knew the little Pokémon had memorized how much a human could endure, for how long, and even how to tell if they were more vulnerable to electric attacks than normal, like if they had a heart condition or something. It was quite common for young or careless Pokémon to occasionally accidentally hurt a human (Tim himself had been burned as a kid by a sneezing Vulpix), but they hardly ever did any lasting damage. Those thugs had probably been through worse, and would be back on their feet in a day or two.

Still, though. It didn't look comfortable.

Pikachu stopped, and the two thugs collapsed to the ground. Tim took a hesitant step towards them and leaned forward, checking to make sure they were unconscious. There was a Pokéball in the tattooed man's hand, and as his fingers went limp, it rolled off and—

Tim lunged forward, attempting to grab it to keep it closed.

The Pokéball burst open with a stream of red light and mechanical whirring, and Tim looked up, up, up at the released Pokémon.

…An Alolan Exeggutor.

A bulky brown two-legged bottom that narrowed into a tall, narrow, palm tree-like neck, topped with leafy fronds and three heads that might be meant as either cocoanuts or eggs. The Pokémon whipped around, its long neck swinging like a ginormous bat, and then its tail smashed down on the Pokéball Tim was reaching for.

Tim scrambled out of the way as the little metal shards scattered, now useless.

There goes that plan, Tim thought morosely. Sure would've been nice just to have stuffed it back into its Pokéball.

The three heads above them, easily thirty feet high, let out wildly different cries—one groaned, another whined, the third bleated like a Mareep. Tim saw the purplish glow around its fronds as it tilted back, and he rolled away just in time as the Exeggutor slammed its face into the spot Tim had been, Tim feeling the leaves brushed against his shoulder. The Raticate, though, went flying with a cry. The dark-normal-type Pokémon was unconscious by the time it landed by one of the crates. In just one hit, the Exeggutor had rendered the other Pokémon unconscious. Dragon Hammer—its signature move.

"Tim!" his Dad shouted, and then Tim felt him grab his shoulder and yank him up, pulling him away. Tim scurried back, and they hurriedly got out of the wobbling Exeggutor's range.

"What did I say, Tim?!" Harry shouted. "What did I say?"

Sometimes, fate was simply against them.

"I guess they didn't train that thing too well," Tim muttered, watching as the Exeggutor lifted its head again, looking a little dizzy from the slam. "That must be why they didn't release it at first—they couldn't control it."

"Illegal Pokéballs and an untrained hazardous Pokémon," Harry groused, shaking his head. "That's a heavy fine." He paused. "Plus, y'know, the whole kidnapping bit, too."

"Pika!" Pikachu cried, running towards the Exeggutor and slashing an Iron Tail attack against its chest. The Cocoanut Pokémon let out three dissonant groans, and then seeds fell from the wide, drooling mouths, tumbling down and exploding on the concrete as Pikachu scurried out of the way. From such height, the seeds covered quite a distance, and Pikachu cried out as he took a blow.

"You got this, Pikachu!" Harry shouted after him as Pikachu forced himself to his feet. "Keep it distracted!" He nudged Tim's arm. "Tim, c'mon, we got to get the thugs out of its range."

Tim grumbled but didn't complain as he followed his father back into the danger zone to the unconscious criminals. He kept one eye on the Exeggutor at all times, but Pikachu was doing a fairly good job at dancing around it and luring its attention away from them.

Harry grabbed the shoulders of the larger thug while Tim pulled on the leg of the smaller one. He hurriedly dragged the sleeping criminal towards the shelter of boxes by the warehouse, and then ran back to help his Dad, who was moving much slower with the heavier weight.

Tim glanced up as they pulled. The Exeggutor was tearing up the area with its wild attacks—bits of boxes were scattered about the ground, and even the already-destroyed garage door had been further broken into pieces. Pikachu's cheeks were sparking with energy, but Tim could see the little Pokémon was panting heavily.

The Exeggutor suddenly moaned, rattling its three gaping mouths, waves of pink psychic energy coming from its head. Pikachu stumbled and blinked heavily as the waves pulsed around him—Hypnosis, the move that made Pokémon drowsy.

Pikachu slowed down and shook his head, little paws shaking underneath him.

"Shinx," muttered Harry, and dropped the thug.

"Oof—Dad!" Tim grunted, trying to struggle out from under the weight of the tattooed thug as Harry ran for the Exeggutor.

Harry paid him no mind. He waved his arms behind the Exeggutor. "HEY! HEY YOU BIG TWIG! LOOK AT ME!"

"DAD!" Tim shouted, shoving the tattooed man off him and running for Harry. The Alolan Exeggutor wasn't going for Harry, though—it was rearing back, about to Dragon Hammer Pikachu.

Tim looked around frantically and spotted a rock of concrete, torn up from the Exeggutor's attack. He snatched it up, old Pokéball-throwing practice memories drilled into his muscles, and threw it as hard as he could at the Exeggutor.

It thonked right against the Pokémon's head.

They all paused.

"…Nice shot, Tim," Harry managed to say. Despite himself, Tim felt a flash of pride.

Then the Alolan Executor turned with three glaring faces, and that pride evaporated like water under the wrath of Groudon.

"Maybe we didn't think that through," Tim muttered.

Harry nodded, staring at the Exeggutor with wide eyes.

The Exeggutor groaned, glowing leaves from its fronds flying out and darting for them, a Leaf Storm attack fast as a thunderstorm and sharp as knives, and Tim covered his face and flinched back—

The attack didn't come.

I was waiting for you two to come to your senses and call me in, Mewtwo droned into his mind. But perhaps my expectations were too high.

Tim peeked out from his arms. Mewtwo hovered before them, looking down at Harry and Tim with an unimpressed expression, the leaves motionless behind him with a light blue glow. The Exeggutor was blinking dumbly at them.

Tim chuckled, the sound mixed with nerves, awkwardness, and relief. "Sorry, Mewtwo," he said uneasily. "I guess we just got caught up in it."

Mewtwo lifted a wrist and flicked it dismissively without even turning around. The leaves whirled in midair and pelted back at the Exeggutor, who stumbled back. It appears so.

Tim let out a gust of air, glancing at his Dad. He was surprised that Harry was facing him, as he had been running towards Tim during the attack. Harry shook out his shoulders, looking as jittery as Tim felt. "That would have been uncomfortable. You alright, sport?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Tim looked back at Mewtwo and smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Mewtwo. You came right on time."

Mewtwo's expression went to uninterested to minutely pleased—which was about the same as a beaming smile, for him. You acted bravely, and lasted far longer than most humans would have.

Some might take that as an offense, but Tim was used to Mewtwo enough to take it as the complement it was meant to be. His grin got wider.

Mewtwo turned to the Exeggutor, who swayed indecisively at this new opponent.

Now, Mewtwo intoned, spreading his arms as psychic energy glowed within his fingers, I don't believe I have experience with this species of Exeggutor. I am curious to test the difference.

A Shadow Ball flew at the Exeggutor's head, hitting one of the three faces. Mewtwo flew to the side as the Pokémon shook its leafy head, firing another Shadow Ball that narrowed missed, more focused on luring the Pokémon away before finishing the battle.

"Pikachu!" Harry shouted, running right by the stumbling Exeggutor to reach his partner. Tim followed, but gave the Coconut Pokémon a wide berth. By the time he caught up, Harry already had Pikachu in his arms, the little yellow Pokémon blinking sleepily.

Harry nuzzled a finger under Pikachu's chin. "You did great, Peeks. We got it from here. Take a nap, sleepyhead."

"Cha…" the Pokémon agreed, and then let his eyelids dip down. Seconds later, his breathing slowed and he was slumbering.

Tim gently grabbed his Dad's arm and tugged him back towards the warehouse, more fully out of range of the Exeggutor. Mewtwo swerved to avoid another Leaf Storm, parrying with his own Flamethrower from his palm, incinerating the leaves that zipped towards him and burning the upper part of Executor's neck. The three heads moaned, the far left one looking more and more out of it—or perhaps that was simply its expression.

Tim glanced back into the warehouse. He spotted the two thugs who'd stayed behind to fight Harry, thankfully still unconscious and unaware of the legendry's presence. While it currently wasn't too unusual to find Mewtwo in Ryme City, it still was best for Mewtwo to keep as low a profile as possible.

Tim returned to watching the battle unfold as Mewtwo fired Ice Beam from his hand at the Exeggutor's legs, one of them becoming frozen to the concrete and the other slipping unsurely.

"Ice move there, Mewtwo!" Harry shouted.

Mewtwo shot Harry a dry look.

"Don't be so cold!"

Tim just sighed tiredly.

The Exeggutor let out screech close to a snarl and forced its leg free, shattering the ice. Mewtwo landed to brace himself and brought his hands up, the crates around him shaking with psychic energy.

But…they didn't actually move. Tim expected the crates to lift themselves and ram into the Exeggutor, but the merely trembled a bit before returning docile.

What?

The Exeggutor swung its neck around in another Dragon Hammer, directly at Mewtwo. Tim knew Mewtwo could dodge, but Mewtwo held his ground, bracing his arms to the side—

WHAM!

The Exeggutor's neck rammed straight onto Mewtwo, gusts of wind blowing out from the impact, but Mewtwo remained as firm as a Stakataka. He had taken the full brunt of the attack against his arm and hadn't faltered an inch. The legendry's eyes glowed with power.

Tim felt his jaw drop a little. Was Mewtwo using psychic energy to shield himself from the hit, like when he reflected an opponent's attacks back at them? Or did he just stand there and take the damage?

And then, something totally abrupt and even more random happened.

A flock of Pidgeys burst out from the ground underneath the Exeggutor's feet, literally from nowhere, like a startled flock taking flight except where had they come from? They didn't fly off through, they swirled around the Exeggutor, surrounding it in a tornado.

The Exeggutor straightened in alarm so fast that it almost overbalanced and tipped over, stumbling in the feathery tornado. Even Mewtwo took several steps back from the swarm.

Mewtwo? Tim projected. Is this you? A new move?

Mewtwo didn't respond, whether too focused or didn't hear, Tim didn't know. Instead, he formed a Shadow Ball and hurled it at the Exeggutor. Distracted by the Pidgeys, the attack hit it dead-center, somehow not hitting any of the flying-types. Letting out a final groan, Exeggutor fell with a loud crash.

The Pidgeys then dissolved into purple glitter, much to Tim's astonishment.

"…Mewtwo?" Tim said aloud.

"Huh," Harry leaned back beside Tim, still holding Pikachu closely. "Looks like we got a little help."

Tim looked at him. "What?"

Mewtwo flew to the Exeggutor's head, checking each of its faces to be sure that it was knocked out. Then he looked over his shoulder at one of the other warehouses. I told you to hide.

There was a small yipping sound, and then a Zorua bounded out from around the corner on tiny red-and-black paws, stopping short of Mewtwo. It barked a few times at him.

Mewtwo narrowed his eyes at her. I realize you want justice, but your reprisal could have gotten you hurt.

She sniffed her cute little button nose at him at turned away, displeased.

"Ohhhhh," Tim said, feeling stupid for not getting it sooner. The Zorua had created the illusion-Pidgeys. Harry smiled at him, and then walked out towards Zorua.

"How you do'n, tyke?" Harry said, smiling down at her.

Zorua sat down and barked a few times at him, large ears twitching.

Mewtwo helpfully translated. She is unharmed, and grateful for our assistance. He inclined his head towards Tim. She particularly thanks you for hiding her.

"Oh," Tim said, blinking down at the little Pokémon. "No problem."

"I helped too," Harry piped in.

The Zorua smiled and yiped, and Mewtwo snorted a laugh.

Harry blinked. "What?"

Mewtwo's eyes were filled with mirth. She asked you to thank Pikachu when he awakes.

Harry gave Mewtwo a flat look and then peered down at Zorua, who smiled innocently up at him. "Oh, you've got attitude, huh?"

Her tail started wagging.

Harry finally called in Lieutenant Yoshida, and while they waited for him to arrive, Harry, Tim, and Zorua hung out around the now-quiet warehouse until the chaos dropped. Mewtwo went for cover, and Harry checked up on all of them to make sure they weren't really hurt.

"I'm fine, Dad," Tim whined.

"Sometimes adrenaline makes people not realize they're hurt," Harry insisted, pulling back Tim's eyelid and peering at it. "Let me fuss."

"But I'm not hurt!"

"You have to follow the procedures, Tim."

Tim spluttered. "You hardly ever follow the procedures!"

"Besides the point," Harry waved off, now poking at Tim's ribs. "You have to know the rules before you can break them. You want to be a detective, don't you?"

Tim sighed. "Yeah."

"Hm," Harry, said, backing away from a moment and lifting a hand to his chin. "Do you know what we call a Pokémon who wants to be a policeman?"

Tim blinked, confused. "What?"

"A Magi-cop."

It took Tim a moment to understand, and then he leaned back and groaned.

Harry beamed. "Okay, you're fine."

Pikachu was fine as well, only sleeping. He'd probably still have to be taken to a Pokémon Center, but they couldn't leave behind the handcuffed criminals until the police arrived.

It didn't take long. Within twenty minutes, Lt. Yoshida, several police officers, and many, many news reporters were at the site. Tim, Harry, Pikachu, and Zorua were sitting on the back of a truck in the warehouse, munching on cheese Goldeen crackers Harry had brought, the four thugs still unconscious a few feet from them.

Lt. Yoshida was the first to come up to them, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised. But that was nothing compared his Snubble, who waddled up at the Lieutenant's side, the beady eyes a force of death in compact size.

Harry appeared to be trying to just not look at it, and Tim followed suit and avoided looking in its direction as well.

"Mind telling me what happened here?" Lt. Yoshida asked.

Somehow, Lt. Yoshida had dad energy but in an entirely different way than Harry. Harry was fun and goofy. Yoshida made Tim feel like he was ten years younger and had been caught sneaking a Rockruff home. Maybe it was grandad energy.

Harry popped a bunch of crackers into his mouth. "Tim 'ere 'n I foun'da criminals 'ere n' saff'ed da Zoru-fa." He gave a rough swallow and made a face, likely having took too big a bite.

Lt. Yoshida's eyes trailed to the thugs for a moment, and then to the unconscious Exeggutor, Vaporeon, Toxicroak, Sandslash, and Raticate.

"Really," Lt. Yoshida said. "So, Pikachu handled all these Pokémon by himself?"

Tim ducked his head, reaching into the bag of Goldeen crackers and offering one to Zorua. She nibbled on it happily.

Lt. Yoshida, thankfully, was focusing most of his attention on Harry. "How could Pikachu have defeated all these Pokémon if he's knocked out?"

Harry gasped. "My Pikachu is not knocked out," he said, clutching Pikachu close to his chest. "He's way too strong for that. He was hit by Hypnosis. He's just sleepy. Isn't that right, Pika-boo?"

Harry scratched at Pikachu's tummy, and Pikachu squirmed and batted the hand away grumpily with a grumbled moan.

Lt. Yoshida's eyes softened sympathetically at the yellow Pokémon, but was still suspicious as he looked back up at Harry. "I know Pikachu's strength, Harry. You two are some of the toughest in the force we have. But that Exeggutor," he pointed over to it, "is very high-leveled. Pikachu might be able to take it on one-on-one, but three others as well? And a ground-type?"

"He knows Iron Tail," Harry defended. "Right, bud?" Pikachu's tail twitched in his sleep, like he was dreaming of a battle.

Lt. Yoshida dropped his hand. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying," Harry whined like a teenager to his parent. "The Raticate was knocked out by a stray attack from the Exegguctor. And Pikachu didn't fight them all at once, the Exeggutor came later."

Lt. Yoshida narrowed his eyes. "Hm."

Harry spluttered, throwing a hand up, the other still cradling Pikachu. "I've told you before, level doesn't matter as much as strategy. Play your moves right, and you can beat anything, no matter the numbers, experience, typing, whatever!"

Lt. Yoshida just stared. Tim fed Zorua more crackers. He hoped her trainer didn't have her on some sort of diet, but Tim was more concerned with keeping himself busy right now. At least the little ash-grey Pokémon seemed happy. Her bushy tail wagged appreciatively.

Harry threw his head back. "No one believes me." He slapped a hand over his eyes melodramatically. "I'm an underrated genius, ahead of my time."

Lt. Yoshida sighed. "Harry, I believe what you've said about Pikachu. But I also know you're keeping something from me."

Harry threw up a hand again. "I'm a detective, Hideo! I solve mysteries. I can't tip my hand too soon." He crossed his arms, trying to look stubborn, Pikachu still cradled to his chest. "I know what I'm doing."

Lt. Yoshida sighed, and then, to Tim's surprise, turned to him. "Do you have anything to say, Tim?"

Tim blinked several times. "Um—no, sir."

Lt. Yoshida tilted his head, frown deepening, making Tim feel even younger. "You can call me Hideo, Tim."

Tim glanced down at Snubble. It looked murderous.

"I'm good," he said.

Zorua seemed to have gotten fed up with Snubble and barked at him. He growled back. She frowned, got to her feet, and then bounced into the air. In a flash of twisting pink light like a lollipop, she landed as a Snubble and returned his fierce glare, like a mirror's reflection.

Snubble did not show an ounce of surprise and merely continued glaring. But it at least provided Tim some relief.

Lt. Yoshida ran a hand through greying hair. "The Zorua's owner is already on the way. We have to wait here a few more minutes for her to arrive." He gestured over his shoulder, and a group of policemen approached to tend to the thugs.

"Oh," Harry piped up. "I'm going to want to talk to one of those guys when they wake up. I think there's one that knows some dirt about illegal activities in Ryme City I'd be interested to know."

Lt. Yoshida gave him a look of skepticism and gentle exasperation. "I'm somehow not surprised. I'll notify you when they wake up, you can come when you like."

"You're the best!" Harry grinned. He held out the bag to the Lieutenant. "Want a cracker?"

Lt. Yoshida rolled his eyes but reached into the bag and took a handful. The Zorua gave up on her staring contest with Snubble and turned back to her normal form, sticking her tongue out at him and then pawing at Tim for more crackers. A medic came to look at Pikachu, and Harry roused him enough to take a potion. The Mouse Pokémon yawned, gave himself a good shake, and purred cheerfully before he realized Snubble was present and started sleepily glaring at him. Snubble glared back, indomitable.

"Tim!"

Tim's head snapped around like a Houndour's to a whistle. There, in the crowd of gathered reporters being held back by police tape and officers, her blonde hair and bright smile unmistakable, was Lucy.

"Lucy!" Tim called back, getting up.

"Hold up," Lt. Yoshida said, putting a hand on Tim's shoulder. "We aren't talking to reporters right now."

"She's my—friend," Tim said, stumbling over the word.

Lt. Yoshida looked back at Harry, and Harry raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"She is!" Tim said, feeling himself blush.

"Mmhm," Lt. Yoshida said. "Alright, you can go. But no talking about the situation, and I'm coming with you to make sure of it."

The idea of Lt. Yoshida looming over Tim as he talked to Lucy made his stomach twist unpleasantly, but the detective was being nice by letting Tim go at all. So he swallowed and nodded, and tried to focus back onto Lucy as they started to walk over to her. Luckily, it wasn't that hard.

"Tim!" she said, reaching out to take his hand. He grasped it immediately. Police tape was between them and surrounded by reporters, but Tim found himself beaming despite the barrier. He—

"Lieutenant Yoshida, is the kidnapped Pokémon unharmed?"

"Lieutenant! After this, the airport incident, and the PCL disaster, and now this, how can the Police Department promise the safety of our citizens?"

"Is Mewtwo involved in this case?"

Lucy let go of Tim's hand to glare at the reporters around her, and Tim hastily backed up as microphones, cameras, and Pokédex-phones were shoved in his face.

Lt. Yoshida looked tired as he responded. "The kidnapped Zorua has been rescued and is unharmed, thanks to the efforts of our officers. No other comment at this time, I will take more questions later today at the station."

That seemed to settle the reporters somewhat, but part of the crowd refused to settle down. "Officer! Officer!" A young girl, perhaps seventeen, with blue-dyed hair and an outfit with several stars on it, forced her way to the front of the crowd. "This won't affect the production of Dancing with the Staryus, will it?"

Tim blinked at the young girl who leaned forward as far as the police tape would let her. She was completely different from the reporters, who were older and carried cameras and microphones. Tim realized that there were actually several normal-looking citizens further back in the crowd, of various ages but the majority seemed to be teenagers. They clearly were not reporters, but then why were they here? Just to check out the scene? Were they some of the new trainers visiting Ryme City since Mewtwo showed up? Tim had thought that had died down some over the last five weeks.

He thought about what the girl said. Dancing with the Staryus was a popular show, a brand of Pokémon Contests, where trainers and their partnered Pokémon performed extravagant and beautiful recitals. Harry had turned it on for five minutes before he noticed an old detective movie on another channel and switched to that, so Tim didn't know much about it besides what the headlines said in the media ads. The judges and company of the show travelled around, but had just come to Ryme City a few days ago. The rescued Zorua's owner was a lead contestant. Its capture, less than a week before the contest*, had sent fans into a flurry of panic like startled Pidoves. These citizens must have been some of those fans. It was still surprising to see them here, though.

"That's for the producers to know," Hideo said with a sigh. "I'm in charge of maintaining the law. I don't think you'd enjoy watching me dance."

This earned a few chuckles from the crowd.

Tim shuffled on his feet, glancing at Lucy but unsure how to get close to her without drawing the attention of the crowd again.

Lt. Yoshida nudged Tim with his elbow. "Go around, behind the police tape, and aside from the crowd." He gave Tim a stern look. "Don't go too far, though. I want to talk to you and your Dad more about what happened once this has settled."

Tim nodded. He walked along the police tape until he got to an area with less people, then ducked under. Lucy caught up to him a few seconds later.

"Tim!" she said, poking his arm excitedly. "You're off doing crazy stuff! Again!"

"Oh yeah, well," Tim said, rubbing his arm nervously. "I do crazy stuff all the time."

…That sounded better in my head.

She laughed anyway. "Yeah, apparently. Rescuing a celebrity Pokémon, though, that's a new level!"

"Really?" Tim asked, tilting his head. "It doesn't seem that big compared to the whole R thing we did. Y'know, with the Greninja, and Torterra, and Howard Clifford…"

And Mewtwo, he purposely left out.

Lucy shook her head, bouncing her blonde ponytail. "Well, yeah, but this involves celebrities."

Huh. Saving the city from a psychopath extremist controlling the body of the most powerful Pokémon in the world and wanted to force people into the bodies of Pokémon, or rescuing a contestant of Dancing with the Staryus? One seemed slightly above the other.

"If you say so," Tim said.

Lucy rolled her eyes like he just didn't understand. "I just mean it's different, you goof."

That was for sure.

Tim was grateful Lucy seemed cheerful, though. He was kind of worried she might be mad about him for not giving her a story about Mewtwo carrying him back to the airport and that whole deal, but they'd been meeting for coffee every few mornings just as before. They both were busy, but he enjoyed chatting with her. She talked about her job, and he told her about how he was getting used to city life. He had to edit his stories sometimes, to keep Mewtwo a secret, but thankfully he had successfully avoided her suspicion.

"I wanted to ask, by the way," Lucy said, twirling a lock of hair around one of her fingers, eyes glancing away nervously. "Do you want to…meet up this evening? There's a little fair in one of the parks tonight. We could get food, listen to music, watch the dancers…just you and me?"

Tim's brain…short circuited for a moment. Did Pikachu accidentally hit him with Thunderbolt too?

"Tim?" Lucy asked. "Hellooooo?"

"Yes!" he blurted. "Yeah, yeah, totally, that sounds…" He smiled brightly. "That sounds really fun."

"Tim!"

Tim turned and saw Lt. Yoshida, who gave a wave of his finger. Wrap it up.

"Alright, well—tonight then," Tim said, turning back to Lucy.

She nodded. "I'll text you the address."

Tim tried to wrap his head around it, but he must have just blankly followed Lt. Yoshida because the next thing he knew, he was back by his Dad.

"Whazzup?" Harry asked, mouth still full. He gave a heavy swallow.

Tim thumped down back onto the truck. "I got a date tonight."

Harry's face lit up like a teenager schoolgirl just asked to Prom by her crush. He slapped the bag of crackers against Tim's arm. "No Farfetch'd way! Bravo, Tim!" He swung an arm around Tim's shoulders and tugged him close. "That's my boy!"

Tim found himself laughing as his Dad pulled him under his arm, Pikachu immediately trying to cuddle between them, never one to pass up snuggles. Harry ruffled his hair like he'd done when Tim was small. Tim pushed his Dad off, giving him a light shove back. Tim was twenty-one, but he found he didn't mind the affection one bit. He'd missed out on a bunch, after all.

Tim relayed the full conversation with Lucy to his Dad, ducking his head and feeding the Zorua loads of Goldeen crackers the whole time. They watched as the Exeggutor was hefted into the arms of one of the department's Pokémon officers, an enormous Golurk, for transport. The Exeggutor may have been huge, but the Golurk threw its neck over its shoulder and marched off. The rest of the kidnappers and their Pokémon were loaded into cars, other police Pokémon diligently keeping guard. An Arcanine bared its teeth warningly as the Vaporeon started to rouse.

They were interrupted by a sudden, powerful gust of wind accompanied by a loud chopping noise, and Tim shielded himself with his arms instinctively. He squinted through the wind towards the source, a cycling whirl of flashing sunlight, before a black shape descended right down on the minimal space of the docks—actually quite large, but cramped now with the presence of a helicopter.

The helicopter landed and the blades began to slow down. Next to Tim, Harry shook his head disapprovingly. "Helicopters these days. They land wherever they want."

Tim shot his Dad a skeptical look, and turned back as the helicopter's side door slide open.

The three-inch bubblegum-blue high heels were the first thing Tim noticed as they stepped out from the shadows of the airship onto the bland grey concrete, followed by a similarly pop outfit. A poufy skirt that came down just above the knees, a turtleneck sleeveless shirt, a fitting leather jacket, and iron-grey ribbons weaving throughout the entire outfit—on the shoes, the skirt, the turtleneck, and braided into the dyed blue hair. But makeup created a flattering red blush on the woman, whose face was filled with concern as her eyes scanned the area.

Zorua, who had been leaning against Tim's side, bolted up. Before Tim could think about stopping her, the little Pokémon bounded off the truck and ran to the newcomer.

The woman's expression lit up at the sight of the Zorua, kneeling down at once to swoop her up in her arms. "Zoe-zoe! Thank goodness you're alright!"

"Oh my Arceus!" screamed someone from the audience. "It's Aria Comet! I love you, Comet!"

"It's her! Really her!"

"Aww look at the friendship between her and Zorua!"

Aria Comet ignored the crowd entirely in favor of hugging her Zorua tightly, the Zorua pressed its nose under her chin, tail wagging.

Tim watched curiously as several officers had to step forward to keep the eager crowd back. "Maybe we should keep up with this whole Dancing with the Staryus thing, since I had no idea who 'Aria Comet' was until today."

"Famous dancer, singer, movie star, so on," Harry said dismissively, rubbing a hand between Pikachu's ears as the Pokémon sat on his lap, both of them watching the scene with boredom. "People also love her for being so close with her beloved Zorua. Some celebrities switch out Pokémon to suit their needs for a role or event, but not her. Of course, I guess it helps that her Pokémon can shapeshift."

Harry wrapped his arms around Pikachu and tugged the little Pokémon closer. "Of course that friendship is nothing compared to us, huh Pikachu? Maybe we should go into the movie business. I'm not half-bad at dancing."

That was an aspect of having a dad that Tim would like to pass up. "Please," Tim said, staring at Harry seriously. "Never, ever, go dancing."

Harry shot Tim a grin as Aria Comet finally looked up from her Zorua, noticed Lt. Yoshida, and started heading over to them, Zorua still cradled in her arms.

Tim wasn't sure if he should sit up or anything around her, but Harry just watched silently, so he stayed put, too.

"Thank you so, so much," the superstar said to Lt. Yoshida, beaming wide. "I can't tell you how worried I've been. I thought it would take days to get her back, if I ever did. But you managed to find her in just a few hours."

Lt. Yoshida cleared his throat. "Our officers scoured the city. But it was those two who found your Zorua so fast." Lt. Yoshida sent them a look.

Tim scrambled to his feet, both at the eyes of Lt. Yoshida and the celebrity. He grinned nervously and straightened his jacket. Harry just lifted a hand in a vague wave.

Aria Comet at once stepped forward and took one of Tim's hands. His eyes widened. "You've done a wonderful thing," she said earnestly, as he blinked alarmedly at her. "Zorua and I are so close—I'd be mess without her. I suppose you might understand, if you lost your partner."

Tim thought of Mewtwo (it was funny how the legendary came up now whenever someone mentioned partners), but honestly wasn't sure he could relate. At least Tim had the confidence to know that Mewtwo could get out of almost anything.

Lt. Yoshida was giving Tim another look while Harry was scratching his nose in a way that might have been hiding a smile.

"Well—I'm glad you're back together," Tim came up with.

The woman turned her attention back to the Zorua in her arms. "I'm just glad she's alright. But I imagine you're scared and exhausted from those bad people, aren't you, Zoe?" she started cooing to the little Pokémon. "Did they ruin your hairdo? Did they even feed you? You must be famished."

Zorua burped loudly.

Tim realized he held the empty bag of Goldeen crackers in his hand and he subtlety shifted it to behind his back.

"Ms. Comet," Yoshida stepped in. "My officers still have work to do. Do you think you could do something about…?" He gestured vaguely at the crowd trying to peek around the officers blocking them off.

"Oh sure, no problem," Aria said. She lifted a hand to her mouth and started shouting at them. "I'm going back to my hotel, but the first hundred-fifty fans to show up there within the next hour will get exclusive signed posters, to celebrate Zoe-Zoe's rescue!"

Well, that was one way to get them moving. The fans scurried away, racing to get to the hotel to claim their poster.

The dancer gave one last smile to each of them. "Ciao!" And then she strode off back towards the helicopter. Tim shielded his eyes as its blades started running again, creating another whirlwind.

"Whelp," Harry said, getting to his feet as the helicopter took off. "All in a day's work. I'm beat."

"Meet me back at the station for a report," Lt. Yoshida ordered immediately, starting to walk away. "Then you can rest."

Harry stuck his tongue out at the Lieutenant's back. Then he glanced at Tim. "You don't have to come if you don't want, Tim. You should get some rest before your date tonight."

Tim stuffed his hands into his pockets, unable to think about anything else as they started to walk back to the car. "Maybe. Are you going to be okay tonight?" He lowered his voice a little. "Just you and Mewtwo?"

It would be the first time Tim would leave Mewtwo alone with Harry. Usually Mewtwo tagged along with Tim or struck out on his own to wander off somewhere. Of course, that might still happen tonight. Tim understood that Mewtwo was slow to trust, but Tim definitely wasn't letting the legendary tag along with him this time.

Harry scoffed. "Oh yeah, we'll be fine." He raised his eyebrows at Tim. "Him, me, and Pikachu will have a guys' night."

…Tim decided to worry more about his date than try and decipher that.

I'm so excited to post the guy's night chapter. Something may or may not catch on fire.

Anyway. I hope to have the whole fic completed in...a year or two? Comments are encouraging, but I'm also writing this for me so I will keep at it. Until then, thanks for reading!