-4-

Sparks crawled across the sink water's surface.  At the instant they subsided, a poised ninetales leapt from the floor and snapped at the air near an ampharos's face in an attempt to remind the new servant that there would be consequences if he tried to make use of his abilities.

Zap snorted harshly to assert at least a little self-respect.  He was using his power to increase the polarization of the water and make the dish soap more effective, and considered it an insult that his warden would treat his technique as though it were treacherous.  The ram slapped the suds at an angle to splash some in the fox's direction as he returned to his preferred resting place, but nothing happened.  The ninetales spun about and huffed a burst of flame, boiling the water in mid-air, before returning to his post wearing a smug grin across his muzzle.

Zap's work was finished just in time for his new master to return home and order the dishes be dirtied once again.  All in all, it was not too bad living there, although Zap knew that was only because he had been completely obedient since awakening from a poisoned stupor two days prior.  No nightly beatings, no morning coffee baths, and he was even given decent meals, despite being formed from inferior or left-over portions.  Between inclement weather and the beans running out, his old master's journey had its moments of being a greater hardship.

With help from the warden to ignite the stove's burners, Zap began to prepare his new master's dinner request while remembering life on the road with Vincent.  It would not have been so bad if there was any reason to believe that their effort was actually leading somewhere, but after each route traversed and each gym visited, the end goal seemed somehow further away.  Curiosity where his new path would lead led the ram to look over his left shoulder.

A man was sitting in a dirty recliner with a cheap cigar, fondling a pokeball.  It was obviously a very old ball.  Zap had seen older ones in gym battles being wielded by veteran trainers and kids who inherited their starters, but that did not take anything away from this ball's age.  The man took another ball from his trophy case and held it along-side the old ball.  He rubbed its release button with his thumb and whispered something inaudible over the sounds of cooking, although his ninetales heard it and rose with a start.  The hiker stood up and addressed the chef.  "Is my food about done yet?"

Zap pretended to be confused at first, looked at the pot, then nodded briskly.

"Good, I'll be back in ten minutes.  I need you with me, Shade."  The ninetales followed his master outside the cabin.

While a small part of Zap wanted to be free, a large part knew that he would never be a champion with Vincent, with the hiker, or in the wild, but at least here, he was doing something productive.  This man may have been cruel to Fiona, but he apparently was not cruel to his team.  Zap began to wonder how long it would take to prove that he could be trusted off of his chain.

The table was set and the food was getting cold when the hiker returned.  If Shade were half-again in height, his master's arm would have been over the ninetales' shoulder for support as he drug himself inside.  Dinner passed in silence.  Afterward, Zap completed his chores and was rewarded with an extra berry for dessert before being advised to go to sleep.

The man returned to his chair, turned on an antique radio, and fondled the old ball for another lengthy period before finally returning it to its place of honor, a sports-memorabilia display case sized for a baseball, adorned with a black ribbon and strip of masking tape that, decades past when its adhesive had not yet hardened, was once attached to the ball, identifying it as the seldom-used home of "Feathers."  Today, the deactivated ball's identity was indicated by a legacy of pidgey blood that soaked into surface scratches and dried to become thin red lines that defied the wear of handling.



Heavily overcast, the nighttime sky was back-lit brightly by a waxing moon, giving it a foggy and featureless glow.  Nonetheless, Theodore was seeing stars, and picking gravel out of his coat.  A novice trainer's expression, and the size of the wager he was forfeiting, indicated that his two-ball bug/rock u-turn strategy for snagging wandering fire trainers had suffered its first loss.  Vincent came to realize that he had not seen a single water-type be set against him in the last two days, and wondered if this trainer ever had.  He did not even seem to know what Phil was when the vaporeon spelt Tio, and ordered his golem to charge blindly into a one-hit knockout.  This was the seventh field battle that Vincent's crew had been roped into since leaving the hostile village, and they were becoming both very exhausted and slightly wealthy.

Theodore and Phil stayed out of their balls to warn any other trainers that the local strategy would be ineffective.  A sharp rock aggravated Theodore, both because of the pain that it caused and because he had simply run out of patience after a long day of dealing with the bothersome element.  "I really want to make camp, Boss."

Vincent wrapped his arm around his buddy while Phil took a moment to run ahead and assault a passing firefly.  "I do too, but if we keep moving we can make it to the outskirts of the next town, get a real room, pig out on Chinese, sleep-in until an hour before check-out, then head on into town and hit the shops.  We went from rags to riches today and we're off the schedule thanks to that suspension Fiona arranged for us, so let's just have some fun.  It is summer, you know, and once I'm in college, the better halves of the next three summers are going to be mauled by extra courses."

Theodore half-nodded.  "If by riches you mean we won back most of the money you spent on those useless vitamins.  You're the boss, Boss, but whatever I stepped on is still in my foot.  I'm not going to let you eat until you fix me up."

Phil sang and directed his friends' attention.  The hobbling typhlosion looked up to see a bargain motel with a green bird standing next to a second-story door.  She was mostly hidden behind four stuffed bags, each with a red pagoda printed on its side.

"Looks like we'll be getting room number 8," Theodore proclaimed, before re-asserting, "my foot hurts," and returning himself to his ball to prevent enduring the labor of walking another block and one-half.

The motel office was unmanned when Vincent and Phil entered.  Vincent rang the bell and Phil hummed a matching tone.  The manager entered from a room behind the counter, leaving behind the dull din of a television program.  He confirmed vacancy and passed Vincent a key with a red tag.  "Room 2, check-out is 11:45."

"Room 2?"  A confused Vincent turned to leave but was halted at the door by the manager's voice, when the balding man saw Phil, who had been out-of-sight beneath the counter-top, but came into view when he followed Vincent's exit.

"Hold it, you're a trainer?  You have to leave your pokemon in their balls here in the office, or you have to put down a damage deposit on a trainer room.  Safety concerns and insurance regulations, you understand."

Vincent looked at the deposit schedule.  Fire, Water, and Dragon each carried a sizable premium.  He almost checked off Electric out of habit.

The manager reclaimed the red key and instead gave Vincent one with a gray tag.  "Room 8, upper floor, in the middle."

Despite Vincent's expectations, drawn from the outward appearance of this lodge, room 8 was actually pretty nice.  It was, however, spartan; the furniture was chosen to be expendable over comfortable, and the carpet was indoor-outdoor cut into square tiles for easy replacement.  Vincent helped Vera transfer dinner from her wings to the table and released Theodore, who wanted nothing more than to crash on the bed and sleep, but Vera took command of the situation.

"Theodore, Vincent, get inside the washroom.  You smell like you've been playing with the neighborhood children all day."

Vincent set his ball-belt on the table and shuffled toward toward the bathroom with Theodore limping behind him, while Phil sniffed at the meal and Vera clumsily opened the other balls.  A moment later, she chirped a haughty laugh and called to the absent pair.

"Tooh-hooh!  Wash quickly; you're in a race against Hal and Fiona."  Two cartons of noodles were already becoming half-emptied, as the dragon and the cat seemed to materialize with their mouths full.

Vincent stripped while Theodore cursed at the long wait for the "H" valve to show some effectiveness.  Phil buried his muzzle into a carton of noodles to help distract himself from the sound of falling water, while the xatu poked inside Vincent's bag.  The trainer was about to make a snide comment about their tiny bar of hotel soap when Vera swung the door open and placed a fresh bar covered by a deep red wrapper on the counter.  Her beak no longer carrying the soap, she admitted being of no further service.  "You must make do with the shampoo provided, boys."

Vincent's team finished the first bag of Chinese food in silence before being interrupted by a bellowing howl and the sizzle of the shower's water boiling away inches from the shower-head.  Vincent examined closely a bloody metal scraping and the putrid green slime that defensively coated much of it.  "Wow, this is more than just 'I stepped on something, Boss', Tio."  Theodore withdrew his foot and washed the wound thoroughly while his trainer prepared to bandage it up.

Vera uncovered her ears, knelt beside the tiny table standing near the bed, and awkwardly positioned her wing over the room's telephone, struggling to find an angle at which she could grip its handset for a few seconds.  She managed as best she could, and lifted it up at the instant it began to ring.

"Yes, sorry about the outburst but it was unavoidable, thorn in the paw, one-time incident, your other guests won't be disturbed further, goodnight, Sir."  The handset fell into the switch hook as it slipped from the small fold between Vera's thumb-like claw and the body of her wing.  Motel manager Norbert managed to say "okay" before hanging up his end in confusion.

A couple minutes later, Vincent exited the bathroom in a towel and began his dinner, while small wisps of steam slowly billowed across the ceiling as Theodore dried himself off through forced evaporation.  The trainer could not handle the suspense, "so, what's the score?"

Vera dropped a rice ball into her beak and swiftly gulped it down.  "Fiona has a slight lead, but the bottom of this carton is going to turn into a brick wall.  Hal's going to have half of the fourth bag to himself once Tio's done."  Her share in her belly, Vera took her usual after-dinner station, draping her wings over her human and calming her mind.

Theodore exited the bath and started his meal, soon instigating a conversation.  "We need to figure out the sleeping arrangements, Boss.  Hers, in particular."  Fiona was not paying attention to anything that was not food, and was at first oblivious to Theodore's insinuation.

Vincent stabbed at a noodle with unusually high evasion stats.  "Well, I could put her in her ball, but that seems a little mean since everyone else is getting to enjoy the room, and it's not her fault, what happened to her and that it gives her nightmares.  I guess we could put her in the shower with Phil."

Phil pulled his muzzle out of his carton and shot a dirty look.  He did not want to be assaulted if she started thrashing around again.

Theodore impatiently dumped the bottom half of his carton into his mouth and swallowed it all at once.  He rose to his feet and performed a gesture with both hands as he spoke again.  "Just wedge her narrow ass into the sink.  She's small enough to fit.  I'm going to sleep now, so keep it down."  The frustrated beast flopped onto the bed massively.

Fiona stared at the brick wall for a moment before setting her carton down.  She poked into her master's bag, found her present, and took one of the calcium pills with a large gulp of water.  Her stomach ached and she did not know why; was it because she stuffed herself to the gills, or was it because of what Theodore had said about her?  She settled on a combination of both.  Vincent tried to get her attention, but she did not respond to her name.  He was about to call more forcefully, but Vera nipped his ear gently and snuggled up tightly.  The room became silent except for the noises of Hal slurping away at whatever remained amongst the devastated cartons.



The Boss rose to run the shower for Phil.  His vaporeon always enjoyed sleeping in physical contact with water.  At home, the bathtub was all Phil's at the end of the night, but on the road, he would take what he could get, even if that meant covering a motel shower's floor drain with his body so a few inches could pool in its basin.  While the water was running, Fiona entered with a tattered pillow in one hand and Vincent's rolled-up sleeping bag in the other, tossing them onto the counter so she would have something soft to lean against.  She mantled the counter, squeezed in beneath the faucet head, and covered herself with a medium-sized towel as a sheet.  Vincent did not notice her until he turned off the water, gave Phil a nuzzle, and turned to leave.

"You don't have to sleep there.  I'm sure we--"

His weavile cut him off.  "Is Tio mean?"

Vincent dropped the toilet's lid and sat upon it.  "I've known him forever, and he's never been mean to anyone.  But, well, I don't think he has a problem with you, but with the trouble you've gotten into; gotten me into.  Plus, you didn't make the best first impression, trying to steal from us and getting lit up for it.  Maybe he's also upset about Zap leaving.  Tio and I have always been each other's world, but Zap was Tio's first pokemon friend, and he gained a lot of confidence knowing that water types would not get a bye off of us anymore."

Fiona's expression was very downcast.  "Well, if he's not mean, then I think I should sleep here like he said.  You've been nice to me and I need to stop making trouble for you.  I don't want to need to be punished again."

The trainer rose like a flash and grabbed her by the shoulders.  She whimpered slightly in fear before realizing his serious expression was one of concern.  "Fiona, never, ever, will I ever punish you like that monster did."  Vincent exhaled sharply.  "Punished again; that sort of thing should never happen to anyone, not once."  He put his left palm on her cheek and kissed her on the forehead.  "We're going to make it work out, together, little thief.  Just keep your chin up for me."

She cracked a sly smile for the only time that evening.  "Will you help me with something before you go to sleep?  Hal promised to tell me what happened when you got him, but only after I got you to tell me about you and Tio."

The trainer sat upon the throne again.  "I know which story he wants me to tell you.  There's not much to it, but Hal has always been embarrassed about his, since Tio couldn't help himself, and Hal... well, I'll tell you both stories since if you told him you heard Tio's story, Hal would just say that his paled in comparison and shoo you away."



"In short, my cyndaquil got sick.  He got a strange disease, and it almost killed him.  We tried drugs and few shots and he kept getting worse.  When he was abandoned by his original trainer, his ball was thrown away too, and lost.  Because his ball was still registered and it wasn't broken, Tio was still owned by his original trainer; I couldn't capture him for myself and use a ball to keep him stable until we found something to help him, or try the healing equipment at a pokecenter.  So, I had to take care of him the old-fashioned way.  He suffered for days, then a week.  His nose wouldn't stop running, he couldn't keep any solid food down, and he was always flirting with dehydration from diarrhea.  Even his flame vents were seeping something nasty and green; they're still stained after all these years."

"I spent my winter break trying to keep his fever steady, his body clean, and his belly at just the right amount of soup that would keep him nourished without making him vomit.  My parents were worried that I could get whatever he had and wanted to dump him off at the center and let them deal with it, but I refused to let him out of my sight.  I knew I would never get him back.  They made me a deal: everything I asked for came out of my savings.  The soup, the towels, the drugs.  If I showed the slightest sign of his disease, he was gone, no argument.  If he died, I would never have a pokemon again."

"I used a timer so I wouldn't sleep for more than an hour at a stretch so if he started getting worse I would be there for him.  He got worse, and better, and even worse."  The storyteller began to tear up.  "It was about four in the morning.  He was hardly breathing and I was nervous as hell.  I told him I didn't think I could help him anymore and I asked him if he wanted me to take him to a pokecenter emergency room.  He--he opened one of his matted eyes, slowly shook his head sideways, and reached toward me.  I leaned close and he struggled to lift his head.  He licked my cheek; his tongue was bone dry.  He chirped faintly and lied down again.  I thought he died at that moment and I started to cry, but when I picked him up he was still trembling gently.  I went back to the routine of cleaning him up, getting an eye-dropper of chicken broth in him, wrapping him in a towel, and setting my timer to one hour."

"Two days later, for the first time since he got sick, he got through a day without throwing up or needing a fresh towel.  The day before I had to go back to school, I took him to the center and they said that he would probably be okay.  They asked me about how I came to have him and I fibbed a little so it would sound like Tio got sick while under his old trainer's care and that his trainer dumped him instead of taking care of him.  That was enough to get them to check up on trainers visiting centers with cyndaquils registered and that weekend we got a call that a girl admitted that she dumped one in my home town and didn't want it back.  She denied that it was sick of course, and they just fined her for improper release, but I didn't care about anything except that I could now make Tio my own."

"When it came time for my allowance, I knew it would not be enough to buy a pokeball because I didn't do any of my chores while I was taking care of Tio and I had spent all of my money except for a few coins, but my father came to me that day and said that I had saved a life, and that was more important than any other duty.  He handed me a box covered with postage stamps, and inside was a hand-crafted friend ball."



Fiona could not find any words that felt appropriate.

Vincent stood to leave.  "Tio isn't mean, but I think he sees you as more trouble than you are worth right now.  I'll leave it to you to prove him wrong, but for now, let's take it one day at a time.  It's clear that a part of you is still in that cabin.  I'm tired.  Goodnight, little thief.  You can hear Hal's story some other time."  Vincent exited and turned out the light, leaving only an automatic night light's faint illumination behind.  Fiona stared into the darkness.  Three meters away, a shower head dripped once every eleven seconds.

Vincent crawled halfway into the bed, to be quickly dragged the rest of the way by Theodore, whose nose detected familiar flesh.  The sleeping beast gripped The Boss tightly, chirped in an uncharacteristically-high voice, and licked the young man's cheek.  His tongue was warm and moist.  When both were fully asleep, Vera brushed her wing over her boys' faces before returning to her standing rest.



His radio's music stopped abruptly.  "Well, shit.  Shade?"

Shade rose and drew downward a rope connected to a pulley, opening a storage chest's lid.  The fox rummaged through it looking for fresh batteries.  Zap thought this could become an opportunity.  He picked up the radio, shook out its exhausted dry cells, bent down to pick up one that rolled near the chair, and held it between his palms.  Midget lightning bolts began to dance around his extremities, except for the leg that was grounded by his shackle.  A boot to the back of his head broke Zap's concentration.

"None of that in my house.  Next time I hit you, the clock will jump ahead three hours."

So much for Zap's plan to prove his usefulness to his new master by quick-charging the batteries of an antique radio.

Zap shook off the blow and carried the radio to the hiker while Shade returned with a package of D-cells.  The music resumed and the cabin was peaceful once again.  Zap was still slightly dizzy from the strike, and staggered toward an old sofa cushion that served as his bed.  The ninetales followed him.  Shade stood over the lying ampharos for a minute, before slowly biting down on the servant's neck.  Defensive instinct begged for a static discharge, but Zap resisted that urge.  The fox grew bored, and huffed a mouthful of flame before releasing the goat and trotting away to his master's dangling arm to ask for affection.



"Vinny-vinny-vinny-vinny-vinny--"  This alarm clock would not be denied.

"Nnngh, Fi', whu--"  His eyes opened to see a field of darkness, broken only by an amber bindi flanked by two wide eyes, and an endless grin.

"I did it!  I made it!"  She jumped into a standing pose, standing over Vincent's chest, holding a dry hand towel in the air like a trophy, and continued to accolade herself.  "I've got everything under control, now!  I'm awesome like that!  I wonder if I got any taller overnight?"

Theodore rose slightly.  "We'll buy you a tape measure.  Get off of the boss."  He shoved the alarm clock, which landed on the floor with a thud.

She scrambled to her feet and ran to the other side of the bed.  "Wanna pick a fight?  Okay, bring it on!  I don't care if you think you're hot stuff, I can take you!"  Her taunting was ineffective.  "Come on, Tio.  I wanna fight with you!"

Theodore rolled over very slowly and sat upright.  "You really want to fight me?"

Fiona jumped up, "yeah, right now, let's do this!"  She danced towards him and playfully took a swing at his chest.

He caught her arm, lifted her up, and spun her to face the direction he was facing.  He clutched her with both arms, and rolled over to lie back down as he was before.  "I win.  My prize is 'sleeping until ten.'  We'll share it."  Theodore reached over and pulled Vincent into the hug.

There were no further interruptions until the electronic alarm clock sounded at 9:57 that morning.



Trainer and typhlosion returned to room 8 with an example of every item on a local fast-food restaurant's bargain menu.  Tio turned on the television, but there was nothing to watch except for local weather, which Vera could predict more accurately, a children's cartoon that seemed to be more focused on selling games and toys than providing entertainment, and a cooking show.  Everyone selected one of the delicacies presented on Calvin Grovewell's Gourmet and pretended that the mass-produced breakfast patties they were eating was actually a meal worthy of narration as you ate it.



Vincent visited the motel office.  "Do you think you could cut me a deal on a two-week stay?"

With the summer winding down, Norbert was willing to bargain, and they settled on a price that was not much harder to swallow than pokecenter tent rentals.

With plenty of time before league competition would become an option, Vincent spent most days visiting the routes surrounding Linalool City, sending Fiona to compete against the beginner trainers and letting his experienced fighters collect small purses by defeating the more-confident trainers.  Watching them fight, Fiona understood what Zap meant by "the Tio, Hal, and Phil show."  While Theodore and Hal were both somewhat susceptible to the rock types popular in this area, Phil had no problem taking them out, and whatever else the trainer had on-hand was usually unable to stop a rampaging dragon.

Vincent did not put Theodore into the battle unless the opposition was fire-weak, however, sending in Vera whenever she availed herself to fight in his stead.  Vincent knew that his typhlosion would not always follow orders, and since they needed big wins to afford their accommodations, if a battle started going badly, Tio could not be trusted to fight fairly when the wager was large enough.



Vincent, Theodore, Vera, and Fiona rode together in an elevator of Linalool's department store to the floor that carried cosmetics and health supplies.  It was time to restock on needful things, since they would soon be on the road once again.  Fiona wandered the shelves while Vincent searched high and low for his preferred brand of soap, which was often a challenge to find.  It had become a running gag to ask Vera if he would be successful, to which she would always reply, "I can't know until you decide if you will look thoroughly-enough to find it."

An attendant was operating a demonstration booth, with the looks of that rare breed of woman that turn out to be fifteen years older than you would reasonably guess judging by her appearance and behavior.  She was promoting a new line of make-up.  Fiona watched some of the other customers sampling lipsticks and mascaras.  During a gap between customers, the attendant beckoned the weavile over.  "Well, aren't you a precious little thing.  Come over here so I can get a good look at you."

Fiona approached slowly, the word "little" rattling inside her skull.

"Aw, you're such a beautiful pokemon already, I don't think make-up would be able to bring your appearance any higher."

Vera approached from behind, withdrawing a singed feather from her pocket.  "I was thinking something like this might be an interesting look."  The xatu held the little thief's lost ear feather against Fiona's crown.

The attendant smiled, "that could be interesting.  You might consider bleaching the tips instead of darkening them, too.  We have products for that, but a little peroxide would be plenty to try it with."

Fiona took the feather from Vera and gave it a gentle sniff.  It triggered a strong memory.  She paraphrased an advertising slogan printed on a nearby sign.  "I think it might be the new 'me', I'll try it."  The girls bade each other adieu and sought Vincent and Theodore, who had given up on the cosmetics section and migrated to automotive.

When the quartet emerged from the department store, Vera stumbled slightly as though something had surprised her.  Her friends watched as her pupils shrank to points before she closed her eyes for a few seconds.  When her eyes opened, they were dilated and her mood was clearly sullen.  Vincent began to ask what was wrong, to which Vera responded by stepping towards him with her left wing raised, sliding it over his right shoulder as she gave him half of a hug before nipping his ear gently, and whispering, "sometimes it's more saddening when you see it coming."  She took a few steps away before launching herself straight upward into the sky.

As the trio passed by Linalool Park, Fiona tugged on Theodore's arm and showed him the feather that was hers the night she evolved.  "Do you think you could to this to all of my feathers?"

"What?  Burn them?"

"Yeah, just the tips, like this feather."

Theodore looked toward Vincent, who shrugged in acquiescence.  "Alright, Boss, hold her back to mine."  Tio descended to stand on all-fours while Vincent laid Fiona on his back, aligning the edge of her crown with the typhlosion's flame vents.  "Don't flinch.  Three, two, one, awesome."  A short rank of flames formed and extinguished so quickly that they were almost too swift to see, but the tip of every feather on Fiona's crown was scorched to match the sample she provided.

She hopped off and dashed toward the park's pond, ice-punching its surface to make another mirror.  Fiona looked at her faint reflection, its tiara's altered feathers contrasting strongly against the sky behind her.  Once again, she saw a new face in the glass, and liked what she saw.  Her gaze snapped instantly from her reflection to Vincent.  "I like it!"

The typhlosion stroked some plant matter off of his knees that he picked up while kneeling.  "Great.  Now she will want me to do that for her every time she molts."

Vincent chuckled and began to walk ahead with Theodore behind him and Fiona catching up as she jogged to rejoin them.  After traveling a short distance, the trainer handed his starter his purchase from the store.  "Tio, do me a favor.  Carry this stuff back to our room.  I'm going to take Fiona to the center and see if I can afford to put an H.M. in her."

Theodore was not knowledgeable in which pokemon could use which H.M.'s, but there were only a couple that had any merit in battle that Vincent would be willing to spend money on, and Tio did not like the idea of losing any part of his elemental advantage over the over-staying guest that he considered to be quite beyond her welcome.