"If you could have any superpower," Scott said, "what would you choose and why?"

"You know, my knee-jerk reaction is fucking flying, of all things," Ree answered with a shudder. "And I tell myself, 'you're afraid of heights and flying, dumbass', and I just don't listen. I still think it'd be cool."

"Maybe if you did it enough and knew you could catch yourself you'd like it?"

"Ehh, probably not. But I'd piss myself at thirty thousand feet or whatever cruising altitude is. That'd be a sorry surprise for someone."

"Great mental image. What would Ree's conscious mind say would be your superpower of choice?" Scott tried again, leaning over to set his chin in his hands on the railing.

Ree leaned backward, eyes on his ass. "X-ray vision?"

"Very funny."

"While I think, what's your answer, huh? You had to have an idea if you asked it," she replied and mirrored his position, looking out at the sunset. Sunsets always made him thoughtful and dramatic.

"I saw a post on the internet—get this: probability manipulation."

"What the fuck?" Ree had to ask. It sounded too technical.

But he was shaking his head. He pulled his ponytail over one shoulder, switched his weight to one elbow, and told her, "Think about it. I suddenly make it so there's a hundred percent probability of me finding a ton of money on the ground. Or it's a snow day. Or, if you want to get really exciting, that I learn to fly or something. Actually, not sure how well that'd work, but at the very least, I could jump off cliffs and not die!"

"Should I be worried?" Ree asked, eying the two story drop behind the railing.

Scott blew a raspberry and she had to return one. "My superpower is cool and you're jealous."

"There'd have to be some drawbacks to it. There are drawbacks to all superpowers. Like how you'd be blind if you're actually invisible," she pointed out.

"Not if you're doing it by refracting light around you."

"Light still has to get into your eyes in order to see."

"Oh, well... Mine doesn't have to do that. Besides, dumb wishes made during sunsets don't have to have drawbacks. They're hypothetical and romantic. Like right now, I'm going to make it a hundred percent probability that I get a kiss."

Ree couldn't help but break into a grin. "You cheesy fucker. Were you planning that line from the beginning?"

"No, which should get me brownie points," Scott replied with a matching grin. All of the red and orange light made his freckles almost disappear. So Ree leaned over and pressed her lips to his cheek, where there had to have some probability of having freckles. "Not cool."

"You always get dumb around sunsets," she replied and shrugged. "Maybe you'll get another kiss if you tell me why."

"We met at a sunset—?"

"No, we met in school and then at a party."

"Then it's secretly my fantasy to ride off into the sunset with you. Rocio can totally be our steed!"

"I am not riding on your scolipede, dude," Ree said flatly. But the idea was stupidly charming. Giant bugs aside.

"Vince would be a harder steed," Scott reminded her and nudged her shoulder with his. She shoved him back. "When are you going to get some pokémon, huh? You could get a steed for us instead."

"Pokémon are overrated. I'd rather have the superpower," she replied and returned her attention to the sunset. It was pretty. Just overrated, too.

-.-.-

Chapter Forty: Ree Majors' Wonderful Journey Of Bad Places To Stay

-.-.-

"You know, have to admit, I hadn't expected the black market to be an actual marketplace," Ree remarked as they meandered through various paths and stalls. It was all indoor, but the overall feeling remained. It had started out feeling like a spy movie—Tyron had bought her a new winter coat and hat, he gave her a cute (if slimy) pokémon called an sliggoo to pretend to be hers, and had tried to teach her to say a few things with a kalosian accent. They had a fake name for her and everything. It was a pity she couldn't have picked it herself, but Tyron hadn't thought Jane Shepard was the most incognito of names.

But a spy movie feeling had progressed into something just not quite right. Not quite eerie, not quite frightening, but just off. As Tyron kept up a steady stream of chatter to maintain a facade of conversation—"Actually, a good ninety percent of our so-called illegal activities are perfectly ethical! It's mostly just importing and exporting pokémon!"—Ree couldn't help glancing around for the source of the feeling. The closest comparison she could think of was the sensation of being watched, but even that was wrong.

"Does this place normally remind you of Silent Hill sans the fog? And where are you taking me, anyway?"

"To see a friend of mine! But also so I could—shit, speak of the—hide!" Without any further warning, Tyron pushed her face-first into the nearest open doorway. The curtain swung shut behind them, cutting off most of the light, and as she adjusted to the darkness, he released a pokémon.

The secondary flash of light made Ree just screw her eyes shut and fling out a hand for her loaned pokémon. The sliggoo squealed happily at the contact and she realized, too late, why she had tried to avoid touching it. "What the fuck, dude?!" she hissed and wiped her gooey hand on his jacket.

"Put this on." She reopened her eyes in time to have something jammed onto her head. Ree swiped her bangs out of the way with a huff. Tyron was still standing in front of her, keeping her pinned to the wall, and there was a furry black and red pokémon with cyan eyes behind him. The store owner didn't seem fazed by their odd behavior.

"What. The fuck," she repeated.

"There are some people it'd be safer not to see," he said with a nervous grin. "For you and I both."

"What the hell is on my head?"

"Oh, it's—" he cut himself off as he visibly came to some sort of realization. It was not comforting and she reached up to take the hard hat off, but he seized her hands. "It's to keep psychic pokémon from poking around in your brain."

"So I'm Magneto."

"Yeah! Think of it like that. And we're trading pokémon. Say hello to your new zoroark."

"I thought I was from Kalos."

"They live in the mountains there, I think. Did you want to keep the sliggoo?"

"No thanks, I've had enough pokémon from you. Speaking of, that's why we're here?"

"Five more minutes."

"Fine, but get off me then." She shoved him away and circled around the little shop. It mostly seemed to sell marble-like stones, pricey little things that ultimately seemed useless to her. The zoroark stalked behind her with a mask-like grin, but it seemed to behave itself. And it didn't look particularly gooey.

She was almost out of excitement for the trip. Seeing Tyron spooked made her nervous, although the feeling from before had left her. That, somehow, was more worrying. But she wanted answers, and he owed her information.

"Coast should be clear. Care to get going again?" Tyron asked and extended his hand. She ignored it and marched back out into the street.

"Why did we have to trek down here?" Ree complained.

"I'm not sure where Antoine is these days. I know a few people who'd know, though. And I was hoping you'd see something pretty and I could buy it for you as another apology."

"I don't trust anymore pokémon you throw my way. Trainer gear or GTFO."

"I know a person—!"

"Information. And then I want to go back to Lentimas and figure out my long, boring winter on my own," she snapped.

"I can do that," Tyron said and tried to hold her hand again. She swatted him away and the zoroark snickered. "What if being a couple was part of our cover?"

"Is that so smart for someone who was just trying to hide from their ex-girlfriend?" she retorted and it was worth it for the way he paled.

"You saw her? Did she see you?!"

"Pretty sure she didn't. Looked a little out of your age range, too, kiddo."

"That was... I'll explain after the other stuff." He dropped the flirty pretense and shouldered ahead with a more serious expression. A small part of that concerned her, but it was mostly a welcome reprieve.

Tyron's contact turned out to be a grizzled man easily twice their combined ages, smoking next to a pair of large, immobile green birds. They stared with empty gazes at Ree and she couldn't help but stare back. "What trouble brings you here this time, Tyron?" the man drawled. He didn't sound surprised to see him. "And what will you offer me for my silence?"

"Ta-da!" the blond boy said with a gesture at Ree.

"I'm sorry, what?" she demanded, unable to tear her eyes away.

He pulled the helmet off of her and held it out to the man. "Half-off one of these."

"How generous," the man deadpanned.

"Free if you convert," Tyron said cheerfully.

"I'll pay the full price if you let this girl go after you're done here."

"That's our deal anyway," Ree pointed out.

"You got a deal!" Tyron said anyway. "Ree, this is Red Feather, best psychic tracker I know. Red, this is Ree, damsel in distress on a quest."

"That's, uh, nice. And slightly terrifying. I had no idea there was an actual market for that kind of thing," Ree admitted, uncomfortable with the idea. "And don't call me that."

"I'm not a tracker, and don't call me Red," Red Feather said and sighed, "I just happen to know when and where people will show up. I won't keep tabs on anyone else's life."

"Yeah, 'happen'. As you can see, he's bonded with a pair of xatu. And he's going to do me and the good Lord Arceus a very wonderful favor and tell me what Antoine Pollock has been up to." Tyron even batted his eyes at him.

"Not Kim Evans? She's the one who's looking for you."

"But you would never, ever throw me under the bus, would you, oh darling Red?"

The man responded with a wave of his cigarette. Tyron disappeared. The helmet clattered to the floor and the zoroark behind her growled. Ree hadn't seen either of the xatu move. "Ree, is it?"

"Did you teleport him?" she asked, not sure if she should panic or not.

"He'll be back in a moment. Listen, this kid is young and stupid, but he's a dangerous kind of both of those. Don't let him drag you too far into his messes," Red Feather said seriously. Before she could respond, Tyron reappeared, a gold pokémon, a scowl, and several pounds of snow accompanying him. He shook out his hair and shivered. "Told you not to call me Red. My name is Wáčhiŋhe Lúta and you should be kinder if you're asking for favors, child," the man said easily, as if that hadn't happened.

"I-I can't pronounce that properly," he whined through chattering teeth. Ree covered a laugh with her mitten-hand. It was incredibly cathartic to see him get a comeuppance, even if it wasn't by her. And even if the little shit was annoyingly charming in small doses. "Can you j-just tell me where Antoine Pollock is right now?"

Red Feather lolled his head to the side and took another drag on his cigarette. One of the xatu blinked, slowly. "En route back to Kalos, it seems. I would guess that Kim's got him nervous." He held his hand out for the helmet and Tyron picked it up and placed it carefully in his grasp. "That's all you get, Tyron. You best head on out of here again soon."

"Will do. Thank you. I owe you one."

"Just drop that girl back off outside. Don't you bother her too much more."

Tyron grabbed Ree's hand before she could pull away and led her back down twisting pathways with what seemed to be a genuine grin. The two pokémon followed along behind them. It seemed like an awful lot of preparation and cover for what had amounted to an hour-long trip, but recalling the feeling she'd had at the beginning...

"Hold on!" Tyron all but sang and embraced her without warning. There was a rush of vertigo and they dropped out of the teleport somewhere sunny and hot. Ree pushed him away and tugged at her scarf, scanning the area, already beginning to sweat. "That went pretty well, actually! I'm surprised he liked you."

"I can't help but notice that I didn't learn anything except that Antoine Pollock is currently out of the country. Balls, it is hot here. How far south did you take us?" She pulled off her scarf and unzipped her coat, panting.

"I have to make sure we have a little bit of space for the rest of your information. Some of it is a little sensitive, considering current events." Tyron sat down in the grass, cross-legged, still bundled up in his winter gear. Ree shrugged off her coat and sat across from him, but well out of arm's reach. "Okay, so, first off, never ever go there again. If you'd like to buy anything through illicit routes in the future, please contact me and—"

"I have no idea where exactly that was, and I'm not going to have further deals with thieves and poachers if I can help it," Ree interrupted sourly. "This is a necessary evil to obtain some information and context. Nothing else."

"Well... Good!"

The little brat looked annoyingly innocent when he wanted to. She wondered how old he actually was.

"So, the other good news is that your Antoine problem has a pretty high chance of taking care of itself within the next couple months."

"What do you mean?"

"There's a power vacuum right now. He's in the running to take over a lot of businesses and contracts, and the competition is pretty dangerous. It's entirely likely he'll be killed by someone else. So you don't have to bloody your hands."

"I don't mind bloodying my hands. I want to see where that bastard sold my sister's pokémon, and I want to beat his face in myself."

"On that note," Tyron said with a falsely light tone, "you probably shouldn't do that anytime soon. If you move in on him, other people might think you're competition. You don't want to get in the middle of this, trust me. I'm not even in the middle of this. Way above both of our heads, believe me Ree, and way too dark for either of us."

"I don't care what sort of dumb hierarchy you have—"

"It's for everything," he told her flat-out.

"...What?" Ree asked. She tried not to seem surprised.

"The power vacuum's at the top. All Unovan trades, companies, guilds, anyone who doesn't have a big foothold in another region. This guy you're after? He's hot shit, Ree. You may want to let this sort itself out. Without you. You could seriously get hurt in this."

"I made a promise. I have to get my sister's pokémon back," she repeated, stubbornly, but there was doubt niggling in the back of her mind. She knew she was prone to bad decisions and impulsiveness. And danger. And violence. But Edgar...

"What sort of pokémon is it? I can start seeing if I could find it."

"A... reuniclus." As much as she distrusted Tyron, what harm could it do to tell him? If he decided to be a huge douche and try to steal Edgar for himself, well, he was a more convenient target than Antoine, anyway.

He nodded seriously, like he'd actually try to help. "Anything to keep you out of this."

She scoffed. "I want a limitless credit card, a heatmor, this asshat's head on a pike, and Scott back."

"You can have me instead," Tyron said just as she belatedly wondered if she shouldn't have mentioned Scott.

"You're a little young for me. And you sort of tried to steal my pokémon. Remember that? Some good fuckin' times there."

"That was a mistake," he replied. The redness of his face made his yellow hair stand out that much more. Tyron had the good sense to keep his eyes averted as he added, "And I'm sorry. Again. I usually, uh, don't do that. Really."

"Really," she repeated, not buying that for a moment. So Antoine was on the way out of the country, he'd likely be killed by someone else, and Tyron may or may not keep an eye out for Edgar. Short of finding Pollock herself, he was far more likely to actually find her sister's pokémon. "So, what happens if Antoine wins?"

"Then expect a lot more hon hon hon pokémon in your future. And possibly unbalancing of ecosystems if it gets too out of hand. He's a fan of stopping the isolationist policies our great country has going on. By force, if necessary."

Ree put an elbow on her knee and chin on her fist. It was still way too hot, even in the shade, but she could get used to not worrying about the snow. Curious and eager to get more information, she asked, "And who is his main competitor? Anyone I can or should get friendly with?"

He paled so fast she'd worried he'd spontaneously bled out or something. Tyron looked up at her, ashen face nearly matching his eyes, and shouted, "No!"

"...Uh, okay," Ree replied. Not a reaction she had been expecting. She thought a moment, trying to recall the name Red Feather had dropped. "...So, her name is Kim?"

"Don't get anywhere near her! She's bad news, the worst, Arceus-damned for sure!"

"Calm down, don't get a nosebleed."

"Ree, you have to promise me you won't go anywhere near Kim Evans!" Tyron insisted, seizing her by the shoulders.

She brushed him off with a hard look. "I don't owe you shit."

"She's bad," he nearly pleaded, sounding genuinely upset. "She's not a poacher or even a hunter. She's a mercenary, the kind that kills people. Assassination plots and contracts and blood all over her hands!"

"Get off of me. What makes her so bad that she can give Antoine a run for his money?"

Tyron sat back on his haunches and fiddled with the collar-like necklace he wore. Ree glanced down at the glimmer of gold as the light hit it. Vaguely familiar. "She has strong international ties. Er, had. She—she sort of caused all of this. The last big boss in Unova was her and her brother, but her brother died in the Sinnoh stuff, and she got knocked down a few pegs by the Plasma stuff. She's done such horrible things to try to claw her way back up. She's probably going to end up killing Antoine soon. And that's why you don't want to get between her and him."

"Exciting," she drawled. She wasn't sure she bought it all, but honestly? It didn't interest her that much. Politics, especially shadow politics, wasn't her thing. Antoine Pollock was a cut and dried target. She wasn't about to immerse herself in a landscape of bullshit she knew little about to get to one man. Deadly bullshit at that.

"Please promise me you'll stay out of this," Tyron begged, hands clasped on his necklace. He sounded close to tears.

Is he serious about this? Ree thought, frowning. "Girl scout promise." She had never been in the scouts.

"Promise to Lord Arceus that you will. I don't want to see you get hurt."

She wasn't sure which was funnier—that he was consistently religious or that he didn't seem to recall that he had hurt her. But she wasn't religious, either, so she chewed on her cheek to hide a grin and grit out, "Promise on the lord."

Tyron let out a sigh of pure relief. She honestly had to hide a snicker. She couldn't believe such a little shit—poacher at best, thief at worst, asshole all around—was so religious. And a foreign god, no less. "Thank you. Is there anything else you wanted to know?"

She held up her bandaged hands, eyebrows raised as high as possible to accurately convey her incredulity. Oh no, he was not sidestepping that one.

He, again, had the sense to look ashamed. "I had thought he would come after me. That's why I wanted to sell the mienfoo so fast."

"Her name is Marcella now," Ree grumbled.

"A pretty name. It fits her!"

"Less flattery, more talky."

Tyron's grin dimmed and he averted his eyes again. He was messing with his necklace again, flicking the charm, and she leaned in a little, trying to figure out what it was. Something about it said religious to her but she couldn't place the symbol. Was it related to that arceus thing? "So, it's just what I told you. I caught her about two or three weeks before I met you. From the wild. Legally."

"Right." The fact that he had to emphasize that last part spoke more than he knew.

"I needed a fighting pokémon for something specific, and, well, she was in the area. A matter of convenience really. A-And I'm sure you realized that I dyed her to pass her off as shiny, when I was going to sell her—"

"The metal nightmare pokémon now, if you'd fuckin' please," Ree interrupted.

He tittered nervously and looked in the other direction, still avoiding her glower. "It was just what it sounds like. Probably. She's a fighting pokémon, and pawniard are dark and steel types. She breezed through them, that's all I needed."

"And why did you want to beat up a lot of those things? One was plenty!"

"They live in extended family groups with their three leaders at the top. Their evolved form. And the little ones are veeeeery loyal. You can't get to the bisharp without fighting through a lot of pawniard, and you can imagine that I wanted it to be as easy as possible with dozens of those things coming at me, right?" he asked, and there was something in his voice that screamed please accept this.

Ree narrowed her eyes and intensified her glare. He jumped and all but twisted away from her to avoid it. "And so you have a little hoard of revenge monsters coming after you because of this? Because you—oh, shit." The realization crashed down on her all at once. Tyron hadn't stolen him from or killed his trainer. Ororin had meant actual leader. He was still a wild pokémon and loyal to a missing leader, or parent, or whatever they were. "You stole these things' parents?"

"Uh, technically, only to some of them—?"

"I was going to bargain with that thing! I was going to try to get him a new trainer—and it probably would have thought I was trying to steal him, too! That little fucking metal monster almost sliced my head off! And now you're telling me there's an entire clan of these little screechy things?!"

"No! Nonononono, Ree, that one is the only one who will come after you! And I'll make sure he stops! He should be coming for me, next, anyway!" Tyron exclaimed.

"So he wanted revenge on Marcella because she's the pokémon you used. And now..." And now she was literally scarred for life. Ree scrubbed at her eyes, cursing her pregnancy hormones, and realized then, too, why Ororin had targeted her reproductive organs. It was just a mirror of what she had helped do.

Ree nearly punched him when she felt Tyron's tentative touch on her arm. Most of it was on reflex, but she was still furious underneath that. The boy scrambled away from her, hands up, head ducked, looking ten kinds of embarrassed and cowed. He was either very, very good at facial expressions or was stupidly earnest when not a thieving shit. Both options were irritating.

"Do you have any other questions?" Tyron asked in a small voice.

She wanted to hit him, but when he was making such a pathetic target of himself, even she felt bad. "Give me your phone number in case I have more."

He brightened like an excited lillipup. She shoved him back down onto the grass when he came too close and tapped his number into her phone, making a point to not give him hers. Too many people already had her number.

Actually, speaking of... "Maria Delgado."

"Hm?"

"Do you know of anyone in the underground scene by that name?"

"If you're looking for a friend, she probably swapped names."

"Dark hair, dark slanted eyes, heavier, shorter. Has a mean sense of humor and a mouth like mine. I..." She didn't actually know what pokémon Maria had, outside of Tranjero. She faintly recalled discussing pokémon, but had she actually met any? "I don't know what pokémon she has. She's, uh, ex-UFO."

"Doesn't sound familiar, but do you want me to look for her?" Tyron asked like he was offering to help Ree look for her lost keys.

"No, nevermind. It doesn't really matter."

"Where would you like to be dropped off?" he asked, changing the subject and catching her off guard.

Ree looked around at the sunshine and grass and beautiful lack of snow. "I guess there's something to be said for the snow birds who head south..." Castelia never got much snow that stuck for long. But that was too close to home, to Scott and her parents and Kev. Nimbasa was out of the question. She wanted some place she could still train, though, but didn't want to deal with many people. "...The desert, isn't there a resort type place there?"

"That's definitely not snowy," Tyron agreed, smiling. She huffed at him. "Do you need anything else?"

"What if I said I wasn't joking about the credit card?"

"I don't work with cards very often but I can give you cash," he replied simply.

"Right." She didn't feel the least bit of guilt for holding out her mitten-hand. "Fork it over then. Call this a robbery."

He laughed at that. She wanted to hit him again, but he was digging around in his pockets. He pulled out a beat-up wallet, and from that, a hefty wad of bills.

She only kicked him after that. Not as hard as she would've otherwise.

"Nicest robbery I've had in awhile," he said sunnily. "But promise me this is the only kind you partake in. Unless you wanted to steal a kiss—"

"Joke's over. How far are we from the desert place?" Ree said and stood up, dusting off grass from her pants. She felt too-warm, even with her scarf and coat off. She'd have to adjust her wardrobe again, but that was easier than winter gear.

Tyron actually giggled and quickly tried to hide the sound behind his hand.

Hands on her hips, she leveled a glare at him again. His smile only faltered a little. "Tyron, where exactly are we...?"

"Ever wanted to see Hoenn?"

Ree actually punched him after that. She drew back immediately, hissing in pain, shaking out her poor hands. Tyron tried to hold them, maybe to inspect them, but she kicked his shin when he neared her again. "Take me the fuck home right now. And if, for some reason I see you again and you teleport me, you ever take me out of the country again—"

"Going home! Right! Desert resort, here we come!" he squeaked, quailing under her rage, and released his golden pokémon again. It offered its spoon to Ree and she grudgingly took it. Better than having him hug her again.

-.-.-

Ree reclined in the chair in her room, feet propped up on the edge of the bed, and alternated between counting money and watching Whippy and Unika squeal out the window. Dealing with Tyron had left a bad taste in her mouth, even if he bent over backwards to please her. But she'd gotten cash, ended up in warmer climes, and she and her pokémon were settled comfortably into the small pokémon center in the resort. While many trainers fled south to avoid the winter, the desert was still an unpopular choice for an extended stay.

"We'll be training on wild pokémon around here for awhile. Dunno how long," Ree called, eyes still on the bills in her mitten-hands. Harper tweeted a vague agreement. She was perched on the other corner of the bed, eyes closed and head halfway tucked under her wing. Marcella was napping on the pillows. Ree couldn't look at her for very long without feeling sick about it.

So Marcella had been used as a weapon. In some sense, she had already known that. But an entire clan of pokémon...? That was a lot to fight through, even with an advantage. And now, despite being away from Tyron, she still had revenge sworn upon her by one of the pawniard. And she and Ree had paid the price.

"Unika, you'll be pulling double time. We're down Lala and Marcella's on bed rest, so—"

A grumpy sound from the pillows startled Ree.

She stared at her mienfoo. "Did you just... growl at me?"

"Foo," she mumbled and burrowed deeper into the pillows.

"You're going to be resting. A lot."

The pink and cream tail poking out from the pile lashed, annoyed.

"Tyyyyyy!" Unika screeched, potentially to the rescue. Her noise calmed the angry tail, though Harper snagged her before she could swim over to her. Whippy made a breathy laugh sound, like he was trying doubly to avoid hissing.

"Unika, I want an evolution out of you before our next gym," Ree said calmly and looked away from her starter. Tyron had had more cash than she'd anticipated. Happy birthday to someone, she supposed. Too early for Christmas, but getting closer.

"Quill," Harper murmured and tucked her head under her wing again. Unika dejectedly wiggled over to the window again.

"Harpy, Whippy's ahead of you again, too," Ree said sweetly. Her tranquill started and stared up at her with wide eyes and an open beak. The serperior snickered, ducking his head low to try to hide it in his belly. It was obvious he was adjusting to a different amount of limbs than he was used to. "We're down Lala and Marcella—for the time being. We're in warmer weather now, since I don't want you or he dealing with more cold until we have to, so now's your chance to strut your stuff for Uni."

And she wanted to put some distance between her and where they'd last seen Ororin.

"Whoever evolves first gets an extra serving of puffs," she added, and that was that. Even docile and dignified Harper liked the treats, with the added bonus of her wanting to keep Unika from a sugar high.

Whippy whined, aghast, and rested his large head on her lap. He tried slithering onto her, but Ree winced and he caught it. "Ser," he mumbled, despondent, and she scratched him between his ear-things. While she was used to serperior in general due to Bo, losing her tiny and carry-able Whippy was another thing entirely.

"I'll buy you so many poké puffs you will lose another tooth," she cooed. "But only if you go back and let me record your evolution this time."

"Rii-ii," he complained, and she had to laugh. It sounded just like her name. He perked up, raising his head, and repeated, "Rii."

"Oh, you figured out it sounds like Ree?" she asked with a grin. He nodded with his own and she scratched him under the chin. He preened, liking that especially, now that she wasn't sure where his throat ended and the rest of him began. Having a giant, long, serpenty thing was going to take some getting used to.

She wanted to thank him for beating the pawniard. But she wasn't sure how to articulate it, and it felt a little weird, thanking her starter for something like that. And whenever she'd given him a look like she was mustering up the courage to talk about it, he'd just try to hide under the bed. He'd only succeeded once, and he had lifted the bed a good couple inches in the process.

"Oh, god, how are we going to wash you? What are we going to feed you?" The nurse at the desk had already had her filling out paperwork about the next size class of pokémon, but lucky Ree got out of doing extra work because of her injured hands.

"Rioriiiii," he answered smugly.

"You're just going to have to never get messy again." That would last exactly one trip to the mess hall. Oh no, she was going to have to fish an entire serperior out of the syrup. Heaven forbid they had anything sweeter.

Ree looked up from scratching her starter to the lump under the pillows. She hadn't spoken to Marcella about her trip with Tyron or, well, much of anything after the attack. She wasn't sure how to broach that. She couldn't talk to Unika about her illness, she couldn't talk to Marcella about her injury. But the latter had the added bonus of the thing growing in her belly to add to the awkward guilt.

"You know what? I think they have a spa here!" Ree said, perhaps a little too loud, and certainly the cheer was too forced. "It's the off season for vacations, so maybe we should pamper ourselves a little. And show off my rocking bikini body, yeah, that's going to look... Okay, I just made myself sick thinking about it."

"Tranquill-quill," Harper replied.

"Your flattery is doing nothing for my stomach. In either sense." The baby bump was definitely growing. Soon, not even her baggy hoodie would hide it. And her winter coat was useless in the relative heat. She was certain the first time a stranger asked about her pregnancy she was going to deck them and burst into tears. Maybe not in that order.

Marcella peeked out from between the pillows and Ree's stomach definitely flopped over. She barely made it to the bathroom in time to puke into the toilet.

She heard more than saw Whippy try to follow her in, but he was too large to fit completely in the bathroom. Unika made distressed noises and Ree looked up long enough to catch Harper trying to calm her down. And she caught sight of Marcella sitting completely up out of the pillow pile, ears perked, brow furrowed with worry. Ree groaned and heaved again, though nothing else came up.

She blinked her suddenly wet eyes. It was surely just the burning in her throat and nose that caused that. "Great, now I'm hungry again."

"Rii?" Whippy asked in concern, coiling as much as he could into the small bathroom.

"One day, after I give birth to this thing and I'm normal again, you're going to have a trainer who doesn't throw up or cry at every little thing." It would be a glorious time. And it was also admitting aloud that she would still be a trainer post-pregnancy. Ree already knew she was terribly attached to her pokémon, but continuing training... The thought was slightly more of a comfort than a dread lately. At least something would remain stable.

Ree got into the shower, bandages on her hands covered in gross waterproofed gel, and Whippy tried to follow her in. He ended up half-sitting in there with her, keeping the curtain open, and she had to crowd right under the faucet and repeatedly bump her head against it. Unika tried to join them, but Ree's scream of panic kept her out. Bonding time with the tynamo could happen when water was not involved, thank you.

They went down to the little dining hall. Ree handed in her paperwork on the way, stomach growling. How long would her hands take to heal? She hoped they had something that didn't require spoons or forks. Maybe Harper would feed her if she made enough sad sounds.

The smell of food inside made her stomach growl all that much harder. But there was something sweeter underneath that—and she saw that the buffet's dessert section was a bunch of assorted cakes.

Ree begged him not to. But she couldn't stop a serperior as easily as a servine. In fact, even throwing her entire weight onto him, he just dragged her along like she was on a kiddie ride. What a sight they must have made: a laugh-crying teenage girl, a tranquill, and a bandaged mienfoo all riding on a serperior like a train ride.

After he had devoured all of the cakes, half the roast, and a third of the pokémon food, Ree was ordered back to her room. They would deliver food she ordered from then on. The fine was reasonable, even, but probably because of how hard she was crying (with laughter, maybe) when they found her, still laying on his back.

-.-.-

Ree forced herself and her team into a routine. They would wake up early, before it got hot outside (having it be hot outside in December still threw her off whenever she thought about it), and go pick on the wild pokémon. There were a lot of ground pokémon that Whippy or Harper had to practice on, even if they were the strongest pokémon in the area, but plenty of things Unika could still zap. Marcella stood by Ree's side, moving gingerly, expression impassive. Ree hoped she was enjoying the outside air, at least.

They'd eat the lunch that was brought to their room, take a nap after the meal, and later scour the resort for trainers who weren't scared to battle them. It took an impressively short amount of time for Ree's reputation to precede her. Even with the quiet, bandaged mienfoo at her side, trainers were scared by a serperior.

That wasn't to say that they were the biggest herdier around. On their third day there, Ree accidentally challenged someone that she found out, afterward, was on vacation after an elite four attempt. Whippy and Unika managed to take down his swanna between them, but that was it.

But overall, they had a routine, and she stuck to it. Unika was getting very good at spotting sandile and hiding from them. Her high mood made getting her excited for battling a breeze, although she took orders as well as any of her teammates. Ree just knew it wouldn't last, and she didn't look forward to that other shoe dropping.

A week and a half before Christmas, their routine was abruptly upset. And it hadn't been by Uni.

Harper had been lazily circling around a sigilyph, herding it back to the tynamo for her to shock, when it charged at her. She squawked and batted it back with her wings on reflex. The already injured pokémon fainted (Unika crying out in dismay at her stolen win), and a very surprised Harper promptly evolved.

Ree dropped the fruity vacation drink she'd been holding. Marcella caught it for her. "Oh my shit. Harper—you did not just—I didn't know you were close!"

"...Fezzz?" Still with wide eyes, Harper landed on the ground with a thump. She had almost doubled in size, plumage growing darker and more naturally colored, legs longer than ever. She spread her wings experimentally and accidentally backhanded a curious Whippy.

"I wanted to record that! You fucking evolved and—and I need to record at least one evolution!" Ree demanded, stomping her foot. She looked between her two biggest pokémon. The serperior whined at his bruised snout and Harper continued to stare at her much larger wings.

She didn't realize Unika had burrowed into her shirt until she turned around, looking for her. Her static made her fingers through the bandages go numb before she could fish her back out. "Tyyyyyyy!"

"Fez-zant," Harper said, voice low and soothing. Unika peered suspiciously at her from over Ree's hand.

"Unika. Uni. Look at me."

The tynamo twisted in midair, mouth clamped shut in a pout.

"You tell me when you're about to evolve, okay? You'll probably feel weird or something. I don't know how it works, but you fucking tell me."

"Seeeeeeer," Whippy said, tail gesturing in a vague manner.

"Un," Harper agreed with a shrug.

"You two are done!" Ree snapped, betrayed. She looked down at Unika with her sweetest smile. "Uni, baby, just tell mommy Ree when you're about to evolve so she can record it on her phone, okay?"

"Mo," she replied petulantly.

"If you do it, I'll give you as many poké puffs as you want."

Starry-eyed, the little electric pokémon bobbed up and down with the force of her nodding. Whippy whined again, doing a stunning impression of a sad lillipup, even with his new size.

Ree ended up having to buy them all puffs to keep them quiet. And she supposed Harper deserved her treat. It had been so low-key, so unlike Whippy's last evolution, but she hadn't been that far behind. So her team consisted of two large, fully evolved pokémon, and two small, unevolved ones. It would work, for now.

While Whippy and Harper inhaled her savings in poké puff form, Ree tried to teach Unika how to do the chestburster thing out of a puff. It mostly ended up with her covered in frosting. Whippy licked her off, despite her squealing and sparking.

Word traveled fast in the resort. Walking around the few shops with an unfezant on a serperior, both of them licking frosting off their mouths, also ruined the surprise. By sundown that day, only the couple of trainers who were thoroughly stronger than her would battle her, and those just resulted in curb-stomps, even with Harper's boost in strength. After another two days of that, and she gave up on trained battles.

They continued getting up early, Unika continued battling everything non-sandile that moved, and Ree continued getting dirty looks from the rest of the center staff. She now had two large pokémon and with her hands, she couldn't volunteer to help them. It didn't make her stay the most hospitable.

Worst of all, with only weak wild pokémon to track down, Ree was getting bored. Whippy was happy in the relative heat and Harper continued helping Unika (though more wild pokémon fled outright when they saw a huge bird bear down on them) and Marcella continued biding her time with stretches and careful movements. They needed new blood to battle. They needed excitement, not routine. They were learning more than they ever wanted to know about the most efficient ways to corner and dispatch darumaka and sigilyph.

She thought she'd cure her boredom by her normal route: video games. With Tyron's money, she bought a new handheld and a copy of a particularly yellow game that reminded her faintly of Scott (and Kev). They spent more time outside, trying to find more pokémon to keep up with their training, and Ree and Marcella would hunker down and lean over the little device while the other three did their thing. Ree told herself that she trusted their methods. Mostly, she knew they barely listened to her and she was bored out of her mind.

Persona 4 Golden turned out to be more than faintly Scott-esque; it was everything he liked in a game. Bright colors and dungeon crawler and school simulator and cutesy character designs. It was agonizingly routine, too, even if it dunked her right into a murder mystery. She would have regretted buying it if she hadn't been masochistically attached to it and the Scott feelings it brought her.

After she failed her first in-game finals, where she actually had to take the goddamned tests, Ree had enough. She was bored, she was frustrated with her game, and training off of weak wild pokémon wasn't good enough for Unika. They needed trainers who weren't scared shitless of her. They needed crowds and actual buildings and a staff who didn't hate her and a wide pool of suckers and someone who wasn't Scott who could help her figure out how to play the game right.

"Pack up, team, we're moving out."

"Rii?" Whippy asked, arching over where she was throwing her clothes into her bag.

"We're going back to Castelia. Get ready to brave the desert, because it's the last heat you'll be getting for awhile."

-.-.-

Next Chapter: Ree finally buys that fruit basket. It's a metaphor but it's mostly not.