Forbidden Waters – 6

For the first time in years, without the aid of strong illicit chemicals, Emil found himself being woken up by his incredibly irritating Dexnav alarm. Before his eyes even opened he could feel that the ever-present torpors, aches, and pains that lingered in his back and his muscles had almost totally vanished. All of them, except of course the fresh bruises and little cuts Vaporeon had bequeathed him from their little adventure the night before. He breathed in that first deep life-giving morning breath and smiled as Vaporeon's scent filled his nostrils. It was like a warm hug, reassuring him that everything that took place hadn't just been a hallucination brought on by some unfortunate concussion.

He slowly opened his eyes and was immediately greeted by her gorgeous Sugilite eyes looking into his. She smiled as he woke, tail wagging slowly behind her, and pressed her paw against his nose in her own playful way. "Vaporeeeeeeon," she sang, then shimmied up to his face, winced at her leg, and licked him on the cheek.

Emil held her cheek in his hand and he kissed her back on the muzzle. "Good morning to you too…" he whispered.

Vaporeon yawned, stretched her body as best she could given the circumstances, arching her back up and then curling it downward. She kneaded Emil's chest a little and then hopped down onto the linoleum tile floor. Emil followed after her and grabbed his Dexnav up from where it had ended up lodged between the couch cushions, and started desperately checking it for any drunken communications that may have made it past his better judgment.

Apparently his hands were busy with something else that night, he thought.

He started walking towards the kitchen, realizing that one of his ankles was only just barely supporting his weight and he limped a little, then his head snapped back towards the sliding-glass door leading out to the yard. Vaporeon was scratching at the window, looking at him with her head tilted to the side.

Emil chuckled. "You know you can use the toilet like I do."

Her head tilted the other way, she spun around in a little circle, and then she scratched at the glass again.

He sighed and walked over to the door, unlatching it and opening it a little so she could take care of her business. "I guess we'll work that one out later…" He thought about it some more as he watched her drag her cast off into the yard to go looking for some spot she could add to her domain. He caught a glimpse of her neck; a subtle but still-noticeable bite shaped bruise had formed where he marked her and his face flushed with concern. He then felt his own neck and traced the thin line of scabs that had started the healing process on him. "There's a lot of stuff we need to work out," he declared and then shuffled back inside to start scouring his kitchen for something both of them could eat.

There were lots of foul prepackaged bricks of salt and carbohydrates, but she couldn't eat any of it. He had some fruits, and those were fine for Pokemon to eat for sure, but the only honest-to-Arceus 'Berries' he had were some Petcha Berries that were pre-cut, frozen in bags, and left in the freezer slightly beyond suggested storage. He opened the pantry and there may as well have been the sounds of Mothim flapping their wings to the age-old tune of Poverty™. Had he really let his food stocks dwindle this badly? It was funny how needing to prepare for someone other than yourself changes your outlook on what you had in your little burrow. He would need to go buy a large stock of fresh nutritious Pokemon approved foods if he was going to have her staying with him all the time. No processed, 'Pokemon Food' or whatever the cheap shit was they fed to the research mon, he was going to give his queen what she deserved.

He tossed the frozen Petcha Berries, some bananas, milk, and a splash of yogurt into his third-hand thrift-store blender. He clumsily started decimating them all into a semi-appetizing slurry as Vaporeon pranced back into the house. She jumped up onto the table, squinted in pain again as her cast thumped down, and then smiled calmly as she watched him making whatever it was he was brewing in the kitchen. He poured the makeshift smoothie into some glasses (thankfully he had two, he considered getting rid of one in a fit of minimalism once) and plunged a pink disposable straw into the cup.

"It's not much, I'll make sure I have better stock later, gir-" He stopped himself, scratched his cheek with his index finger, and then blushed. "Um, sweetie? Can I call you that?"

Her head tilted and she blinked a few times. She sniffed at the drink and then looked up at him with an enthusiastic expression. "Vaporeeeee. Vaporeooon!" she squeaked and nodded with approval, and then sucked hungrily on the straw. She chittered and hummed happily, seeming to appreciate even his meager offering.

He sipped on his drink and sat beside her. She shoved her glass over and sat closer to his shoulder as well and leaned up against him as she enjoyed their first meal as a mated couple.

I guess I'm not doing too bad, he thought to himself. At least she didn't seem to mind.

1-218-860-5045 (Emil): Hey, Rich. I forgot to ask for those painkillers for Vaporeon last night. She's having a rough time without em. Make sure I give her some before we start training today.

Emil nursed at the smoothie and looked sideways at Vaporeon. Her eyes shifted up at his gaze and she smiled, flashing her fangs into a cute wicked little grin. "Hey, so… I don't know if you understand or know or… So I guess I should be honest with you…" he started and stopped, trying to find the perfect arrangement of consonants and vowels to express the concern he had been feeling.

She sensed the change in tone of his voice and the air of seriousness he was projecting and she crooned her neck sideways so she could fixate on his gaze. "Vap?"

Emil continued, rubbing behind her ear fins, and she purred. "What we're doing, the… well this," he said, pointing to his neck. "People don't look highly on it. People think it's bad and we could get into a lot of trouble. A LOT of trouble. I want you to know that so you can decide if you really want to do this."

She bobbed her head up and down, blinking slowly. She really was one of the most intelligent Pokemon he'd ever interacted with. Most mon could understand some language, even if they never fully grasped it, but she seemed to have a full mastery of Intraregional Comprehension and he even caught her speaking a word or two of his language when she really wanted to make a point. She could play Go with prejudice and absolutely refused to waste time with card games.

She nodded and smiled. "Vapeeee," she said and then happily started finishing off her smoothie again. She sucked on the straw playfully, winked at him, then pushed the empty glass away from herself and nuzzled against his chest.

He leaned in, still incredibly concerned and it was all over his face. "Seriously, sweetie. If we get caught they'll take you away and I'll probably end up in jail somewhere. Are you sure you're OK with this? If we do we'll need to be caref-"

She smooshed his mouth shut with the fins of her tail, eyes closed and lightly frowning like someone on cloud nine who had just had a weight tied to their leg. She stayed like that for a few long seconds before she opened her eyes again, winked, and gave him that wicked playful smile. "Eoneee," she cooed.

Well, that settled that then. He didn't know why he thought that she would care whether something was considered moral to humans or not. Perhaps he needed to think a little less about this. He was going to trust her and see where this went, but it didn't help with the sinking realization that he had just jeopardized his freedom and placed his fate into the paws of his neighbor's pet fish.

4-483-267-8663 (Richard): Oh yeah. Um, give me and the others some time to get the stragglers out of the keep. I think I need to tone back the celebrations. Last night got a bit out of hand. One of the windows melted. I bet it was impossible for you to sleep last night.

4-483-267-8663 (Richard): How was Vaporeon? She didn't beat you up and take you hostage or anything, did she? XD

Emil stared blankly at the Dexnav for a full minute, then stared at Vaporeon who purred and nuzzled his shoulder.

1-218-860-5045 (Emil): She hasn't made any demands yet. :P

4-483-267-8663 (Richard): Good, because I wouldn't pay it. I'd come rescue you… or whatever smear was left of you.

4-483-267-8663 (Richard):We're not having her do full training for a while, the Joy at the Pokecenter said to keep her on ultralight duty to ensure the bone heals right.

4-483-267-8663 (Richard): Got some wicked stuff she can do to help the others train though! Especially Incineroar. She's been SO SPICY about that surprise liquidation, and I've got just the thing to cool her off. :)

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"MEEEOOOOOWWWWWRRRRROOOOOOAAAAAAAAARRRRRRR," Incineroar howled as a column of water crashed against her back like the swells of a stormy ocean. She hissed and snarled as her body smoked, steamed, crackled, and smoldered like a campfire that had a bucket of cold morning well-water dashed across the coals. Vaporeon sat on top of a metal table, wearing a cute little flower-print disposable child's poncho to make sure her cast didn't get wet as she vomited up gouts of water to drench her companion over and over again.

"Breathe, girl… good job! You'll be swimming without a wince in no time..."

Richard soothed her, rubbing her damp furry shoulders. This wasn't something he normally saw from Richard, this sort of soft approach, but what he was having her do was so unbelievably deranged that he supposed even the diabolical Richard Stone knew he needed to show solidarity as he put her through the shitty process of, 'Energy Desensitization.'

"Incini...roar…. Roaaar Incineroar…." she mumbled as she shook her face dry, letting thick droplets of water fall onto Richard's shoulders.

"Again?" Vaporeon asked, stumbling over the word but managing it enough to be understood.

Incineroar twisted her head back, looking back at Vaporeon with a psychotic one-eyed stare. "Roaaar!"

Incineroar screeched and roared again as Machamp completely ignored the spectacle. He had donned a fluffy red housecoat like a king's mantle and topped his still-bruised melon with a massive set of fuzzy pink headphones that were blaring some... Emil wasn't sure but he swore he heard some girly k-pop blasting at full volume; emphasizing the second-hand music with his fists striking the air holding fifty-pound weights and the air-cracking swoosh of his legs with lead-shot filled ankle bags strapped on. He hummed and danced around to the music as he punched and kicked and sweated to keep up the pace. Whatever got that muscle bound hulk motivated, Emil wasn't about to judge.

Rhydon was doing a bit of unconventional training as well. Emil had been doing some research into getting Rhydon's anger issues under control and so he went and bought him a comfortable Pokemon Ukata, made up a playlist of meditative music, and was helping the big guy through breathing exercises and mental routines to help him keep his rage under control. He kept fussing and complaining about seeming weak and lazy, or at least that's what he thought he was saying, and Emil continually had to insist to him that this practice was just as hard for him as whatever it was Incineroar was bitching about.

Actually, come to think of it Emil was getting a strange sense that he could understand all of Richard's mon when they vocalized at him. There were times he had to make a double-take because he thought one of them had spoken and he had actually just correctly interpreted their monspeech.

Torterra, well, it was getting hard to find weights that she couldn't lift, so Emil had to get creative. He set up a kevlar tarp with high-resistance grommets at all four corners that connected to chains. Those chains attached to four large industrial spring assemblies that Emil made himself and poured their metal fixture poles into concrete foundations... Torterra's only instruction was that she had to stand up. At first she actually scoffed… until she couldn't stand up. The entire day she had been grunting and huffing as she struggled with the weight for the first time in a long long while. He could tighten or loosen the settings on them, and he kept asking if she wanted him to crank it back as he swung his Adjustment-Tire-Iron around, but she insisted that he not.

So he just let her struggle with it. She'd get hungry eventually.

He got to recycle his spring-assembly idea with Metagross, which was great because he was quite proud of that. He had a long, thick nylon rope attached to both a spring-assembly and a big iron weight at the other end. Metagross needed to use their magnetokinesis to pull the weight towards themselves and compress the springs. Emil theorized that this would be a good way to create a sort of weight lifting exercise for Metagross's energy abilities. Richard gave him the thumbs up, and some of the literature supported the theory, so it couldn't hurt. Unlike Torterra, Emil had to crank up the resistance quite a bit before Metagross started to struggle. He expected that; Metagross was exceptional in a lot of ways. What he had not expected was how motivated Metagross was in doing this stupid thing. Normally she would do her training with a look of miserable boredom and with no effort at all, but for the first time he caught her centering herself and really giving it her all, forcing him to hide his Dexnav somewhere else so the magnetism didn't scramble its memory.

Yeah, there was no way the bog standard Silph Co. Training gear was gonna cut it anymore for Team Stone. Emil was considering dredging up some of his old contacts in the industrial sector to help him construct whatever new twisted mechanical artifice he was going to need to challenge his family.

PLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL! Richard blew on his coach's whistle as he looked up at the old school analog clock up on the outdoor living room patio area.

"Alright everyone, take a break. Good job!" he praised them all. He clapped Incineroar on the shoulder and then collapsed onto a garden chair in a sweaty heap himself as he greedily chugged water from a recycled gallon Gogoat Milk jug.

Bing Bong Bing Bong…. Bong Bing Bing Bong, rang the doorbell system all throughout the estate. Richard flipped open his Dexnav and opened the application that let him see the different cameras that Emil had set up.

"Who's at the door?" Emil asked, brushing some grass off of his own Ukata, which thankfully had a high collar that hid the bite mark he was keeping secret. He wobbled a little on his sore ankle, and thanked his good fortune that it wasn't a running day so he could go without having to come up with some dumb alcohol-associated blunder that nobody would believe.

Richard pushed himself up from a full rest, pivoting on his heels like a Vampire rising up from his coffin. Then he started waddling toward the door, reminding himself that it was in fact Leg Day and he had the dubious honor of having finished his squats early. "Police Chief or something. The one we're doing stuff with. I'll let'm in."

Emilio started getting a very uneasy feeling. He wasn't sure why, but his heart started racing in his chest. Vaporeon scooted up to him and chirped, rubbing her haunches against his leg. She winked at him and stuck her tongue out and then nuzzled him some more after biting his knee through his fancy clothes. She was teasing him. She had been all day. Worst of all, from time to time she'd lift her tail ever so slightly so he could catch a glimpse of her sex and then she'd slyly hide that she was doing anything at all.

It was unbearable.

"Girl, you're a little monster," he said to her, scritching her back and making sure to stop and rub extra hard against her rear end.

She purred and lifted her hips in response, chiming happily with a wink.

A feline eye snapped to the two of them, watching them with intense focus, then closed them calmly as Emil inspected her.

Emil started checking something on his Dexnav as Vaporeon paced around the yard. He wandered around nervously, tugging on his Ponytail like he did when he was faced with a tough problem.

Incineroar peeked one of her eyes open at her as she was drying off her fur with a massive plush red towel draped over her shoulders. "{WHAT is that?}" she yowled.

Vaporeon's front paw lifted as she stopped mid stride, looking behind her at Incineroar. "{What is what?}"

She pointed her claw at Vaporeon's neck. "{You're marked. I guess Emil isn't the only reason you wanted to go gallivanting about, princess.}"

Vaporeon's eyes shot open and her face flushed pink. "{Oh, no. No no, it's nothing. I just-}"

Incineroar blew a dismissive flame to the side, rolling her eyes. "{What, you think I'm stupid? Don't answer that. That's a love bite, alright.}"

The others had snuck up behind Vaporeon. She was backing away slowly, nervously, eyes locked on Incineroar, and then bumped into a pair of monolithically swollen shins. She lifted her head up and gazed at Machamp who was squinting at her and had a giant shit-eating grin on his face. "Look like Human-Like teeth made that one," he said as he leaned closer and closer to her face that had started turning red.

Her heart was pounding. Oh, dammit! Had she messed up and blew their cover the first day!? Her head shook and she started sliding away. "{I, oh, hahaha. I can explain.}"

Machamp shook his head and pounded his own chest in pride. "{No need. I know exactly what happened.}"

Her heart sank.

"{You do?}" both her and Incineroar said in unison.

He winked and pointed at her. "{Looks like you got it for a Machamp line boy. See them all around these parts. I didn't know you were into this, but I can't say I'm surprised.}" He flexed his entire body and posed like a German bodybuilder showing off for the judges in some international muscle pageant.

They all stared into her soul, watching her with laser focus.

Vaporeon shook off the embarrassment just enough to come up with something to salvage this shit show. "{Oh, yeah… I didn't wanna talk about it but… yeah there's a Machop that I… really took interest in. Really impressed me, y'know? I'm a little shy about it.}"

All of them laughed or giggled at the situation. All of them except for Incineroar who glared at her with intense suspicion.

"{Well, good thing you can't make babies with'm. Trainers get real sore when we go and make eggs without them knowing. Not that I'd treat any little Stone any different regardless. If you start messing around with anymon else though, be careful.}"

She nodded and that seemed to placate the crowd. They dispersed, going to wind down in whatever way they liked to, and she decided to go find a corner to go and freak out in. Dammit, dammit, dammit, she thought. That crappy lie wasn't going to stand for very long. Where was she going to wrangle up a fucking Machop? Oh, Gods! She might actually have to wrangle up a FUCKING Machop! Her face flushed red and she scowled at the utterly degrading scenarios that had begun playing out in her head like a D-Rate horror film-festival showcase.

"{I'll eat a fucking tire before I rut with some second rate fighting-type….}" she uttered as she grabbed a sun-faded hose and burbled her face in a stream of semi-satisfying municipal well-water.

She smacked her face, a habit she learned in the lab tests, and breathed deep. She'd figure that out later, for now she just wanted to get back to her Emmi; he'd center her and get her mind straight.

Or so she thought. She waltzed around the corner but then immediately backed up and hid behind the side of the house with her spines raised up in alarm at the look on Emil's face. He had gone completely white, which was a real accomplishment because she was pretty certain he was as pale as a human could possibly be until then, and he was blankly staring at someone standing beside Richard.

He wore a fancy navy-blue police uniform, starched and pressed so tight it looked like steel plates welded in place, with white and black trim sewn so close to his skin it might as well have been sewn on. A menagerie of metallic commendations and ribbons hung all over him along with golden metal cuff-links and other glistening shows of hard-earned accomplishment. Most eye-catching of all the accouterments was a huge badge that read "Hoenn Law Enforcement" in front of a metal relief of the Hoenn mountain ranges. His dark brown eyes were serious as a heart attack and every strand of jet-black hair on his head was whipped in line like a platoon of obedient soldiers. He stared right back at Emil, like a guard dog that dared you to try.

"Hey Em! This is-"

"Lieutenant Steel," Emilio finished his sentence and started to break out into a cold sweat.

Suddenly Keenan Steel softened his face, as if some mechanized crew in his brain was given the command to switch strategies, and smiled. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure. Have we met?"

Emil shook his head and swallowed hard. "No, ha no no. Just recognize you from TV. Didn't think I'd be meeting you in person."

He smiled and waved his hand like a commander dismissing his men. "Not at all. I'm nobody important. No Levincia, for sure, or whatever her name was. My daughter can't get enough of the tripe."

Emil composed himself a little and he approached cautiously, holding his hand out to greet him. "To what do we owe the pleasure, Lieutenant?"

"Just coming to personally invite the both of you to the opening of a brand new police station. We got a batch of Jennies slotted specifically for this and I'm excited to say this part of Mauville is going to be the safest place on planet Earth come this time next week." Steel gripped Emil's hand like a set of handcuffs latched on too tightly. He smiled calmly, but it was clearly a very well honed facade. He could feel the clamminess in his palms, the microscopic shakes in his wrist. "Everything alright, Mr Malison?"

Emilio chuckled nervously. "Noooo, nothing at all ha ha ha. I mean yes, yeah. I'm just not so great with meeting new people. Richard can vouch for my awkwardness, sorry about that."

Keenan's eyebrow raised, slowly scanned the makeshift mechanical equipment all over as if he was logging the data for a SCIF, and then he slowly nodded with a smile. "Yes, that was in my reports. I think all this will be good for you, mark my words. Keep up the good work, Mr. Stone's father speaks highly of you."

Emil choked down his fear and smiled. The Flapple-fried- fuck ?! REPORTS?! What reports!? "I'm happy to hear that. I have the same opinion of him. He and Richard have treated me very well."

Vaporeon hadn't blinked the entire time the humans were speaking. She knew in her guts that this Human was a blood-thirsty monster. Every single twitch of his body was calculated and smooth, like he was ready to pounce and snap your neck at any moment. He reeked of blood, gun oils, and P3 smoke. There were elite guards in Father's lab that put down subjects who went rogue; when they showed up either you put your head down and surrendered or you were dragged out with the life beaten out of you and thrown into the reclamation tanks.

No mistake, he smelled JUST like one of those twisted psychos and acted exactly like them too. She growled quietly and prepared herself to rip out his throat if he made even the remotest wrong move towards her Mate. Emil's instincts weren't that great, but even the dumbest prey could tell when they were staring at a hungry apex predator and he looked like a freshly hatched deerling shivering in a corner.

Lieutenant Steel nodded both at Emil and then at Richard. "Then I can expect both of you there to meet the new placements. Rest assured…" he began as he started walking back through the house, "There's some big eyes on you, Mr. Malison."