Warsong of Thunder

Mewtwo had a pikachu, once, back during his trainer days. It was cloned from the plucky pikachu that belonged to the boy he turned to stone (like a badass, he would add.) In fact, his pikachu had been a badass, too. It bitchslapped its original before it cried for ten minutes, and in Mewtwo’s eyes, that was metal as fuck. The pikachu he had found that morning, however, was different than his had been.

She was the cutest pikachu that had ever lived. So, Mewtwo did the only thing that made sense, at the time. He followed her so he could steal her pokeball from her trainer and clone himself a pikachu that was just as cute and teach that one to bitchslap people. It was a fool-proof plan. Mostly. Kind of, Not really. ….her trainer looked scary.

And while those days might be behind him now, old habits die hard.  The lieutenant made a habit of knowing what was going on around him, and around the grounds.  It wasn’t easy to get the drop on him. 

Usually. 

When something jumped out from around the corner, though, Surge was more than a little surprised. But instinct was his friend, as much as his extreme caution.  So as the figure lunged out of hiding, Surge jumped back, one hand going instinctively to his hip (no sidearm, of course, he didn’t carry that anymore) and grabbed his Raichu’s pokeball, releasing the Pokemon as he looked over their attacker. 

Colress’ hands were sweaty underneath his gloves. He had been granted “up-top” access to comb the outlying forest for “test subjects”, although Colress hadn’t referred to them as such in his request. An unfamiliar environment was set before him, traipsing through the undergrowth as he found nothing but Rattatas. His Treveant loomed near, functioning as his guide and his guardian.

He was very quickly thrown off guard by the command, stumbling backwards into Treveant. Composing himself, he glanced over the bush he was sifting through to see a stern man crouched down, ready for battle. Colress fixed his glasses nervously.

It was obvious that he wasn’t the sneakiest guy on base, though.  “Yeah, I noticed,” the veteran muttered.  He looked the man over, catching the bright red R on the pocket of his lab coat -- from what he could tell, it looked real, but you could never be too careful.  “Check ‘im,” he muttered, patting the Manectric’s back; the Pokemon snorted and paced slowly forward, keeping a wary eye on the Treveant, and began to sniff at the Scientist’s lab coat.  He would recognize the smell of the base, if this man had it on him. 

As Sabrina sat down, Surge passed the slice of cake over to her, giving Volty a warning look as her paw reached out to grab it.  "You already had some," he said.  "Let somebody else try it."  The Pikachu turned her most charming puppy eyes on the veteran, who remained entirely unmoved.  The Raichu, meanwhile, returned Sabrina's polite nod with one of his own.  He might not have seen the psychic in quite some time, but he recognized her easily enough. 

Sabrina wouldn’t exactly show if his tone was hurtful or not. She was too rational to actually accuse him of sounding too harsh, considering she expected nothing less than this, and she was the one being rude first. As Surge reacted, she looked at him blankly. Glanced at the pokéball in his hands. But no, he wasn’t going to let it out on her. If he’d been in one of his flashbacks, maybe he would’ve. Suddenly she felt kind of stupid. What a weird and odd feeling that was. Drained our all her angry energy like someone pulled out a plug. Don’t let it show, Sabrina.  "Yeah yeah, figured you’d say that. At least you had all your clothes on. Stop sounding like I’m trying to rape you." she said with what sounded like a hiss at the end of her throat. You could practically hear how upset she was just by listening to her tone, but she wasn’t the type of woman to get it more high-pitched, instead she simply talked faster, and put more power into every word she thought was important, like she was trying to rub them in someone’s face. "You know that we never talked to each other in the League, but that doesn’t mean I could at least catch up a few things, like when people’s birthdays are. And how was it, now? The beginning of July, something like that?” she asks sarcastically, pointing at the cake like it was her evidence in a trial. “Makes a person feel really damn stupid to miss something like that, because the person in fact didn’t even remind you of it. Thanks. As a person who was pretty sure you and I were at least friends by now, I’m glad to know I wasn’t even worth the bother!”

The veteran sat back, leveling a confused stare on the psychic.  He might not be the best at reading people, but he could tell she was upset about something.  Hell if he knew what, though. 

Until she spoke again.

What was with all these people gettin' up in arms over his damn birthday? 

"Well, ma'am, if yer gonna feel stupid about it, y'ain't gonna feel half as stupid as I do.  Birthday was beginnin' a' June," he said, glancing awkwardly at the cake.  "Completely fergot about it.  Couldn' exactly tell anybody when I didn' remember fer myself.  Couldn' even say how Executive Ariana found out -- pro'lly from files, pretty sure it was on th' whole entry application -- but it don't mean you an' me aren't friends.  I jes' got a shitty memory fer dates."

"You’re very welcome, sir, but if I’d known there would have been such a… demand I would have made more.” She glanced up at the Pikachu first, smiling, and then looked down at Raichu a bit more pensively.

"You know I’m sorry we never did continue our match. -It’s no trouble, really, that’s gone and done with- but I suppose I should tell you I’ve still been keeping at it- er-"

Now came her turn to awkwardly scratch her head.

Catching Ariana's eye, the Pikachu put on her best and brightest smile, offering a chipper wave to the Executive.  As her eye traveled down to the Raichu, the Pokemon bobbed his head politely, his own smile soft but noticeably pleasant and free of malice.  

The reminder of their match seemed to ease the awkwardness in the lieutenant's posture.  "Y'know, yer right.  Got a feelin' I wouldn'a won, tell y'the truth," he chuckled.  "Y' really surprised me out there.  You've come a long way, if y' don' mind me sayin' so, ma'am."  Even without the Venusaur, she'd dealt some impressive damage with the Arbok's maneuvers, and she'd shown more adaptability and foresight than she had in her challenges while he ran the gym. 

This was the fourth cake she’d prepared recently. Not knowing much about the lieutenant’s actual tastes, she’d decided to go with a plain white cake, adding a bit of lemon twist to the icing and decoration, hoping the Electric specialist would at least enjoy the color and zap of it. 

The cake was a surprise.  Whatever Surge had been expecting, it was not a cake.  While he might not be the biggest fan of sweets, his Pokemon were a whole other story: the Pikachu on the pillow, awakened more by the promise of food than anything, quickly made her way off the bed and up to her trainer's shoulder, chirping a bright 'Pika!' of delight as she looked on the little box; the Raichu at the foot of the bed, minding his manners, simply walked over to Surge's side to satisfy his curiosity. 

And then there was talk of birthdays. 

Crap.  

Surge ordinarily did a good job of forgetting his birthday.  It was one of those dates he had memorized for the sole purpose of using on applications.  It wasn't anything he attached any importance to.  

Clearly that was not the case for everyone else. 

Eevee, meanwhile, seemed very interested in the new person. As Nate had never been able to train him for battle, he was still mostly just a pet at the moment. He sat down by his trainer’s feet and stared up with a very interested look on his face.

"Lieutenant Surge," the man replied, touching two fingers to his temple in a casual salute.  "Good t'meet ya, kid.  Gotta say, I'm pro'lly as surprised as you are.  Ain't every day y'find somebody else up at this hour.  I'm jes' wrappin' up my mornin' rounds."

The Manectric that accompanied Surge on his patrols sat down next to his trainer, tilting his head slightly at the well-mannered Eevee beside their new acquaintance.  He was well-enough trained not to go leaping over to greet every new face -- 

"Yeah Well, A Big Balloon Ain’t Exactly All Dat Inconspicuous Ta Begin Wit’" He’d Never Really Gone For Stealthy When Travelling, Why Bother When The Kids You Followed Never Seemed To Expect You And The Police Were Rarely Anywhere To Be Seen. Pidgey Swooped Back Down And Chirped To Her ‘Trainer’ That They Were Ready For Take-Off, Landing On The Edge Of The Basket And Offering A Quiet Greeting To Their Company As She Noticed Them.

"Passengers?" He Paused To Consider The Idea, While He Didn’t Exactly Consider The Man Somebody He Would Willingly Spend An Extended Period Of Time Around With No Witnesses, He Did Like An Opportunity To Show Off His Flying Skills, And If He Found A Spare Moment To Swipe That Pikachu Then All The Better. "I Guess Not," He Shrugged, Jabbed A Thumb Back Towards The Inside Of The Basket "Da More Da Merrier Right?"

The Pidgey's arrival caught everyone's attention.  Volty recognized the little bird as something she'd seen before, flying over Kanto skies and hopping around the Vermillion bird feeders.  The familiarity made her even more friendly than usual, and the Pikachu chirped a greeting and waved to the little bird as Surge bobbed his head to return the friendly greeting. 

Surge hadn't really been expecting the Scratchcat to accept.  He glanced at the Pokemon for a moment, waiting for the catch, the laughter, the 'just kidding' to follow...

...but nothing came. 

"Well, lemme think. For one, he, I’m pretty sure, thinks he’s a Pokemon. Something canine. And I know his mental health history is… nn.. spotty. Very spotty. He had a few hard years before getting here, too, and I think it’s really affected him."

"...floor hole."

"Ahem."

"Not even a 24/7 gig, huh?  That don't sound so bad."

"For the… job."

"Most… Probably."

"Bodyguard, huh?  Pro'lly doesn't count that I'm used t'gettin' Volty outta trouble."

"Pii~"

"You wouldn' still be lookin' fer somebody fer this, would ya?  Pretty sure we've been over th' whole service record thing, takes more'n bullets t' kill me, an'...well, been puttin' up with Volty fer the better part'a two years."

"Pika?"