Pokemon Fan Fiction ❯ Small Doses ❯ Chapter 3

Warning, this is a lot longer than the other two parts. I didn't want to make this a four-part story, so we both (me and the readers) have to deal with the length. Sorry!

 

Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Pokemon franchise-I only own the specific personalities for these characters, not their species. (Boy, haven't done one of these in a while!)

 

Disclaimer 2: I also do not own the song “You Belong to Me” by Jason Wade. I only used the tune and set-up to create a PMD-version of the song, “I Need You with Me”.

 

Rating: T for language and violence. But, knowing me, that's nothing new, right?

 

 

.

 

 

Melody stepped through the threshold of the house with a relieved sigh, glad to finally be done running around and doing odd jobs around Treasure Town. Sometimes it sucked being Master Rank, and this was why-everyone depended on you. It was no wonder that Rain was so uptight about it and left no room for errors or mistakes on their missions. “With great power comes great responsibility,” some old student of the Guild had once quoted. And it's no freakin' surprise that I get stuck with the crazy jobs. She gave a huff as she made her way to her room. Now it's time to relax and-

 

Suddenly, she froze in her tracks, her eyes unfocused as she strained to listen.

 

. . . What's that? It sounds . . . Her heart sped up at the possibility, but she quickly dashed it away before it could be disappointed and went to go figure out what it really was. As she went down the hallway, however, it grew clearer and clearer, and her hope sprung up again before she poked her head around the corner for a peek.

 

Oh Mew, it is . . .

 

Rain was singing to himself.

 

That only happened when he was extremely happy, i.e. easy jobs that paid well (delivering goods was a necessary evil) or a big payment that had just come in the mail. Feeling giddy, she was about to jump out and ask him what the big deal was before she stopped and actually listened to him. What she heard nearly made her jaw drop to the floor.

 

“See the mist low in the morning air.” He placed a book back on the shelf where it belonged, and lopsided grin on his face. “Listen to the nomad breeze's prayer. I promise I will always care . . . I need you with me . . .” He adjusted another novel before giving a wistful sigh, his gaze glossy with reminiscing as he stared absentmindedly at the wall. “And life is so cold without you . . . and maybe you can feel it, too . . .”

 

He's singing that? The song had been voted number one five weeks in a row and was one of the most popular soft and romantic songs in Treasure Town-and hearing him sing it was enjoyable and confusing at the same time. When he did sing, it'd normally be an old tune or the melody of an orchestra, not a popular hit. Why would he sing that song? He's always said he loved classical music more . . . unless . . .

 

She furrowed her eyebrows at the absurd thought.

 

Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. That can't be it. It's crazy! Hell, he turned me down in a split second, so how in the world could he possibly be in . . .

 

“Keep on traveling through the glen. Close your eyes, and count to ten.” He paused in his organizing to stand at the windowsill, staring out at Arceus knows what as he was silent for a little while. Melody felt a bit guilty for spying on him, but now that she knew what he was singing, she had to find out what was causing him to do so. She watched as he slowly placed his elbows on the windowsill, leaning against it as he sighed heavily, looking rather strange in such a casual pose. “And when they're open, you'll be home again . . . I need you with me.”

 

No. Way. She examined his stance, the exact same pose the weasel that now inhabited their house was always in. This can't be happening!

 

Rain's in love-with her?!

 

He didn't notice her tiptoe back down the hall and out the front door-no, for once he was too wrapped up in his thoughts to have noticed her at all. He ran his hand over his head (much like a troubled man would run his hand through his hair) with an anxious sigh, trying to force the tune out that had gotten stuck in his head, but it was no good-it was there, and it didn't seem likely to be leaving just yet. Feeling perturbed that such a thing would happen to him, he stood up straight and tried to trick himself into not believing it, or to focus his thoughts on something else.

 

Weavile's face appeared in his mind's eye.

 

Dammit, that's not what I wanted to happen. He frowned and shook his head, but she stayed there, taunting and teasing him like always. Even the figment of his imagination made his life hell. Trying to bat the thought away like one would an annoying bug, he walked back over to the desk and attempted to finish what he had started. But she interrupted him again, and he irritably set the mug of coffee down roughly only to splash some of the papers, forever staining them brown. Sighing in defeat, he cleaned them as properly as he could, his mind drifting away in memories.

 

“My, I think the little knight's bushed! You're not in shape, darling. You should work out more.”

 

Such taunting was always expected of her, and it did its job in irritating him and causing him to use a move he knew would hurt her badly. Although he didn't normally like to attack anyone that wasn't in a dungeon, he decided to make an exception since she was attacking him. He had followed her in hopes of “bringing her to justice” after she had “stolen” his team's treasure; he now realized he didn't have a proper reason to accuse her, after listening to her explanation afterwards.

 

“You stress out too much. That's not good for your health. Sometimes, you should let bygones be bygones and just go with the flow. Exploring was made to be an adventure, a journey filled with fun and surprises! To make it a duty and all serious . . . that's not what it was made for; that's like a grappling hook having a short reach, it just destroys the purpose.”

 

Her bit of insight was interesting enough, although he didn't agree with it completely, and it had convinced him to be a bit more lenient with missions that didn't concern somebody's safety. Delivery and exploring missions suddenly seemed a lot simpler, and he found he could finally relax and lose his normal tension. He knew his teammates noticed the change in his behavior but were unsure if they knew the cause.

 

“Your feathers, they always seemed out of place for a creature that doesn't fly.”

 

“And the fin on your head seems out of place for a creature that isn't a Sharpedo.”

 

“. . . touché.”

 

She had a sharp tongue and a quick-witted response for every situation, it seemed-it was here that Rain finally began to take interest in the leader of Team AWD. Expecting a simple explanation since that was the norm in his life, he hadn't predicted her reply and had been stunned into near speechlessness. He could barely mutter a word to that, staying quiet for a good amount of time after that until they camped out for the night.

 

““Looks, of course”? You're almost more conceited than I am! And, trust me, darling, that's hard to achieve.”

 

“Oh, I could never hope to surpass you. You're way out of my league.”

 

He hadn't meant to sound arrogant, but he understood where she had gotten the notion from. He knew that many of the girls around Treasure Town gossiped about him and whatnot (Bobby kept him updated), and many had said he was cute or handsome. He didn't want to be seen as a conceited guy, though, as it was so controversial to his real self.

 

“You know, you weren't nearly this much fun when we were lost.”

 

“I guess we can only handle each other in small doses.”

 

And he was right, at first; they only hung out for half an hour at the most, and those tiny breaks helped ease his muscles and worries and focus on what was important to him-the missions. He had thought that prolonged “exposure”, however, was “unhealthy” and would irritate him to no end. When she came to hang out at their house, however, he learned that she was bearable when she wanted to be.

 

“How? How could they?”

 

To be honest, he had been torn at the sight of her personal defeat, unable to decide whether to try to comfort her or to just remain silent. In the end, he had chosen neither, instead helping her to her feet and taking her to his home to cool down a bit. This was around the time he had started to call her simply “Weavile”. He had been surprised when she stayed longer-now it had been nearly a month and she still was in the guest room. He didn't think that her quarrel with her teammates was that serious, and that only strengthened his resolve to help her in any way he could.

 

“Don't worry, I'm sure they're just trying to think of what to say.”

 

“I'm not worried. I'm just annoyed.”

 

“Sure you are.”

 

He couldn't imagine her being not even a bit bothered by it all, even with her tough exterior. They were her partners, her friends even, and they had betrayed her trust and caused her to doubt her leadership skills. He wanted to be angry at them but couldn't because he could understand their case, and he was sure that Weavile could as well.

 

“You aren't exactly . . . the warmest person they know.”

 

“I'm part Ice, not Fire.”

 

Indeed, she wasn't the kindest and most loving Pokemon in the world; she'd sooner tease and taunt you then cheer you up, and she held next to no sympathy for anyone other than herself. And she wasn't the most open and understanding of them all-it was either her way or the highway as far as she was concerned-making her teammates' hesitation all the more understandable. At the same time, though, she was their leader, and she'd never do anything to harm them if she could help it.

 

“Oh, you know you love my company.”

 

“If I didn't, I wouldn't be here now, would I? No matter how irritating and confusing you may be.”

 

“Oh, it's all a part of the “Lady Weavile package”. Lucky for you, I'm on sale.”

 

He still didn't get this about her-the taunting. Now, he wasn't an expert on women, but he was pretty sure that having one say she was “on sale” was supposed to be some type of flirting. Whenever she got like that, he wasn't sure if she was serious or not, and he always ended up thinking thoughts he'd rather not have (i.e. whether he really wanted her to flirt with him). He hadn't meant to ask her about it, but the question just sort of popped out, and then . . .

 

“Well, I didn't mean it that way. Taunting, you know?”

 

This flat out stumped him. How can you flirt without meaning to flirt? Is it subconscious? That just opened up a bunch of possibilities that frightened him even more, and he shut down every idea that sprung from it to keep his sanity. And her answer's been driving me crazy, too. I . . . I hate to admit it, but I want her to do it on purpose. Otherwise, that's like sticking your hand in a fire not expecting to be burned. And, to be frank, it's a bit odd for her to flirt when she's not fawning all over-

 

An incredible thought popped up, abruptly derailing his train of thought.

 

She doesn't fawn over me.

 

That's what did it! That was why he was so fascinated with her different and loudly spoken opinions; he was interested in the only girl he knew that wasn't a part of his fan club. She hung out with him without crowding or suffocating him, and she let him have his space while he did the same to her. They kept everything casual, and any tension that either of them had eased away while they hung out together. He liked hanging out with her because of that, and as a result-

 

He liked her.

 

He really, truly liked her.

 

His eyes widened at the realization, and he muttered something rather out-of-character for him.

 

“. . . shit.”

 

 

.

 

 

“I'm sorry, could you repeat that?” Lady Weavile took a claw as if to clean out an ear, mumbling, “I could have sworn that you asked me-”

 

“No, I did ask you that.” The Rhyperior stayed calm as her friend stared at her in confusion, going on, “And I'm asking because it's pretty obvious that he likes you.”

 

“What?” The weasel stared at her incredibly. “You've got to be joking. You can't possibly think that-”

 

“Oh, I can. And I am.” Bobby sighed as she continued to receive a confused glare. “Look, I know you don't believe me-”

 

“Hell no, I don't!” She crossed her arms with a scoff, growling, “What the hell makes you think that I like him, or, for that matter, that he likes me?”

 

A grin erupted on the Drill Pokemon's face, and she suddenly started to sing an annoyingly familiar song a little bit off-key. “See the road stretch for another mile. See the moon and how it seems to smile. Just remember darling, all the while, I need you with me.” After enjoying the weasel's groan, she explained, “My leader has been singing that song to himself since last night, and I think I know why. He's in love.”

 

Lady Weavile blinked.

 

“With me?”

 

A nod.

 

“You're joking, right?”

 

A shake of the head.

 

“Oh, come on . . .”

 

“I'm serious, you know.” Her grin disappeared to be replaced by a thin frown. “And it's plain as day that he's bothered by it, too. He can't stop thinking about you, you know.”

 

“And how the hell do-”

 

““Wow, the snow is beautiful.” “We should probably hurry back, you know . . .” “Leave her alone, Melody, she hasn't done anything to you.” “I don't want to kick her out! Just a little longer!”” A smile flitted across her face for a moment at the weasel's obvious frustration.

 

“And that means he likes me how?”

 

“Honey,” she sighed, “you don't understand. He's never shown this much interest and concern towards anyone. If you had been anyone else, he would have returned you to your team and forced you to make-up then and there. But he cares about you, and that's why he's let you stay with us and slowly piece your teams' bond back together.” She nodded sagely. “He loves you a lot.”

 

“Oh, this is just ridic-”

 

“Hey!”

 

They both frowned in confusion, and Bobby turned to examine the livid Roserade stomping towards them, her green cape whipping about in her hurry. “Melody? What're you . . .”

 

They were shocked when she continued getting closer until she got into Lady Weavile's face, and she spat, “What have you done to Rain?!”

 

The Rhyperior blinked. “She did something?”

 

“Yeah! He's been singing that damn song, and I know she's had something to do with it! He only likes classical music, not country or pop or whatever!” She poked a bouquet in Lady Weavile's face accusingly. “What, did you use Attract or Captivate or something? Or maybe a Confuse Ray, since you're such a bitch that I doubt he would ever-”

 

“Alright,” Bobby pushed them apart with her strong arms, “I think that's quite enough. Melody, you have no right to start pointing fingers and-”

 

“But she has to have done something!” She turned to the Rhyperior, her expression now desperate. “He rejected me so quickly, and yet as soon as she came into the picture . . . !”

 

Lady Weavile had been silent and wide-eyed the entire time, her expression blank with bewilderment at the Bouquet Pokemon's confession. She couldn't believe what was happening to her, after all of the trouble she had gone through to avoid things like this. Her plan was crashing down all around her. And she had placed each brick in the wall around her so meticulously . . .

 

Bobby took one look at her face and burst into a merry grin. “I told you so!”

 

 

.

 

 

Her ears perked up at a creak in the distance, alert for anyone's presence in the empty house. She stayed like that, back straight and muscles tense, until five minutes had passed and she was absolutely sure that no one was there. She was still anxious, however, as was obvious by her pacing around the guest room like she was waiting to visit a friend in the hospital. She was trying to think calmly, clearly, logically, like she did as a leader on missions-but even at what she normally did best, she was failing.

 

That was why she was pacing.

 

“Come on, Weavile, get a grip.” Turn. “It's obvious that this is all just a misunderstanding-” Turn. “-stemming from your tendency to sound like you're flirting.” Turn. “No biggie, that can be fixed-just sound uninterested-” Turn. “-and bam! Problem solved!” Stop, sigh. “No, it can't. Dammit, I don't normally lie to myself . . .”

 

Or maybe I just don't notice it before.

 

Stop it! Her cool, logical side, barely hanging onto the edges of her mind, reprimanded her doubts rather quickly. Come on, you're Weavile! You're always right! There's no way that this can all be true, there's just no way.

 

Oh, stop kidding yourself. (Wow, that's weird, I don't normally have voices in my head.) It's real, and it's happening to you. Can't flirt your way out of this one.

 

It was taunting!

 

It was flirting, and you know it! If she imagined really hard, she could see a mirror image of herself crossing her arms and scoffing. You've always known that you were flirting, but you just didn't want to admit that you might actually like somebody!

 

Growling at her ridiculousness, she tried to ignore the voices and continued pacing.

 

“Alright, keep talking to myself.” Turn. “It's not as bad out loud as it is in my head.” Turn. “And it helps me to stop thinking about hi- it.” Turn. “I meant “it”, not “him”. Psh, never him.” Turn. “Why would I be thinking about him? Crazy.” Turn, stop. “Dammit, I'm thinking about him.” As she scowled at herself and tried to beat her mind into a pulp, the two voices in her head continued their argument where they had left off.

 

That's not true! Logic-Vile shook her head vigorously. (Oh Arceus, I've named them now. I'm officially insane.)

 

Is, too! Arceus, they-she was starting to sound like a little kid-the voices were-oh, whatever. She gave up on trying to make sense.

 

I don't like him! I'm not about to dissolve in some romantic mush like my teammates and lose all common sense.

 

Ah, exactly my point. Moral-Vile crossed her legs and looked at the other triumphantly. You think that being in love makes you weak or stupid, when in fact it doesn't. And no, it's not a waste of time, either. She nodded in agreement to her own words. You're just afraid of getting hurt.

 

Lady Weavile quickly shook the images from her head before she went completely bonkers, growling, “Okay, I am not scared.”

 

Thunk, thunk.

 

“Scared of what?”

 

She started at the sudden interruption of her solitude (and insanity) and whirled around to see the exact person that had been on her mind for the past five days, standing expectantly after crawling through the open window (the noises were his feet hitting the wooden floors). Her mind went blank except for one thought:

 

Oh, shit, I'm scared.

 

She stood frozen there for a moment as he stared at her curiously, but then she quickly shook the nervousness away and scowled at him. “Ever heard of a door?”

 

“Sorry,” he grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, “I just sort of ran ahead of the others and didn't have time to open doors. Besides,” something close to a smirk appeared on his face, “it's only the first floor.”

 

She avoided his gaze as she suddenly felt uncomfortable there with him, after all of the thinking she had put herself through in his absence. She had been barely able to deal with it when he wasn't there, so how was she going to survive now? Thinking about his concerned face, or him offering to help her make-up with her teammates, or assisting her to his house was the last thing she needed-oh now she was thinking about it. Mew damn it all. She really hated her logic-free mind.

 

She heard him take a step towards her, and she quickly asked him before he could get closer, “What do you want?” She didn't want him to be too close, in case he was lying about being able to read minds with his Psychic powers. Oh, that's the very last thing that I need.

 

He stopped. “Why do I always have to want something?” (He was probably frowning at her accusation, too-agh, stop thinking about him.)

 

She shrugged, staring at the closed door. We're alone . . . too much privacy. “I don't know . . . but do you?” She barely glanced at him to see a curious and puzzled expression on his face, but she promptly turned around before he could meet her gaze and lied down to face away from him. She didn't want to be that obvious, but she just couldn't stand to see him at all right now. He was too . . . distracting. She wanted to dissect his expression to try to read his thoughts, but at the same time she was afraid to know.

 

“Well, I didn't.” Well, that was reassuring. And now he does? He remained where he was, to her relief, but he questioned her from afar. “Now, what're you scared of?”

 

She gritted her teeth. Cool calm logic, cool calm logic . . . Her usual mantra wasn't working. “I'm not scared of anything.” She could tell he was rolling his eyes, and a fleeting smirk found its way onto her face before she dropped it like a hot potato.

 

“It didn't sound like it.”

 

“Alright, fine, I'm terribly frightened of tornadoes.”

 

He sighed, sounding exasperated. “Whatever. Look, Weavile, I came here early to talk to you about something.”

 

Oh, shit. Not now!

 

She slowly sat up to face him, refusing to look like a cowering idiot, and put on a mischievous smirk. “About what, darling? Agh.” She slapped her forehead and ignored his confused look as she motioned at him to continue. “About what?”

 

“Err . . . well . . .” He cleared his throat, suddenly looking nervous (which didn't reassure her). “I guess I've missed you . . .”

 

“What, me and my teasing?” And flirting, she added with a mental grimace. “I think you have a fever, dar- Rain.”

 

He frowned, looking at her curiously as whatever he was about to say was forgotten. “Are you alright? You're a bit strange today . . .”

 

“Fine, fine, just been driven crazy in an empty house, you know, too much pacing and talking to myself.” She mentally scowled at her babbling, wanting to throw herself out of the window before remembering that it was only the first story. At his odd look, she waved away his concern, telling him, “I'm okay, really, just-just say what you were going to say, da- Rain.” Mew dammit, this is hard. Do I really do all of this subconsciously? It may be worse than I thought-I may be too far gone to be saved.

 

He ignored her, instead walking forward and placing the back of his hand on her forehead to investigate. “Hm, you're pretty h- warm.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Your forehead's pretty warm. Are you sure you don't have a fever or something?”

 

“Oh, stop worrying like a mother Chansey,” she told him as she brushed his hand away. “And wasn't there something you needed to talk about?” Please, tell me quickly, so you can back away from me and stop staring at me like I'm going to drop dead any moment.

 

He avoided her gaze. “It's not important, not if you're sick. Here, I'll go get you something.”

 

“I'm not-ugh.” She scowled as he walked out of the room, wanting to pummel him for being so concerned. It was very irritating, especially since nothing was wrong until he started getting worried (giving her a headache).

 

Oh, come on. Moral-Vile elbowed her, a mischievous grin on her face. You like it. Admit it.

 

“I'm going to kill you-me-him.” She shook her head, trying to keep her indifferent façade on. “I'm going to kill him.”

 

Logic-Vile snorted. That won't help anything.

 

“You shut up.”

 

He returned with a washcloth and some hot tea, and while she took the mug she pushed his hand away, telling him firmly, “Really, I'm fine.” She didn't want him to be worried, because then she had a weird stomach-clenching feeling that was unfamiliar and painful and she grew a blush on her face. Of course, she didn't want that-that didn't fit her image as Lady Weavile, leader of Team AWD. Calm cool logic . . .

 

He seemed about ready to force it onto her forehead, but instead he bit his lip and lowered his hand, holding the cloth awkwardly. She focused her attention on the cup to avoid looking at his face, desperately wanting something to happen to distract him so she could make her escape with him noticing. Her wish didn't come true, however.

 

“Are you feeling alright? Seriously?”

 

I'm going to kill Jirachi-he sucks at granting wishes. As she plotted an elaborate scheme to do so, she stared at Rain silently to try to get her message across: Yes, I'm fine, now stop asking and leave. He only got the “stop asking” part, though, because he became even more worried, and she desperately thought of something to change the subject.

 

“So, what was it you wanted to ask?”

 

Oops, wait, that's . . . oh, whatever. I don't care anymore.

 

At the blank look on his face, she sighed. “Anything? At all? You ran here early to ask it?” When he finally seemed to recognize what she was talking about but suddenly looked away with a red face, she groaned and muttered, “Aw, hell.” It just sort of slipped out, but she had already lost her calm and cool façade a few days ago. No point in trying to keep it up now.

 

He looked at her, still blushing but frowning in confusion at her remark. “What are you . . . ?”

 

She sighed and stood up, ready to face her demons and get this over with. “Alright, look, Rain. Your Rhyperior friend let the Skitty out of the bag, and I feel that I've mislead you to believe that I've been flirting with you because I lo- like you in some way. Which I don't.” She cleared her throat. “No, I do not like you.” The two Vile in her head laughed at her pathetic attempt to pull herself together, and she batted a claw at their mental images and growled, “Oh, both of you shut up. You're not helping.”

 

“. . . Weavile?”

 

She coughed. “Right, sorry. The voices . . . Arceus, I'm insane. Calm cool logic, calm cool logic . . . agh, it's not working anymore!” She smacked her forehead with her palm, as if that would help anymore, but that only made her headache worse. “Mew dammit, I need help. I've driven myself insane in this house.

 

“Anyways, as I was saying, I don't . . . like you. No, I haven't meant to make it sound like I was flirting, since I'm not a sissy fangirls of yours.” She stood a bit straighter, puffing out her chest as if trying to seem arrogant. “I'm much too good to stoop that low, and I don't want you to think that I was.” After a moment, though, she waved her claws frantically and spluttered, “Not that I care what you think or . . . or anything. No, it's purely for my benefit, because I'm selfish and cold and . . . stuff.”

 

He remained silent, blinking occasionally with a stunned look on his face.

 

She sighed. “Dammit, this sounded a lot better in my head.”

 

He continued to look lost, a puzzled frown looking permanently glued to his face. (She almost laughed at the thought of that, but that would have only confirmed her insanity.) “Wait, Weavile, what are you . . . where'd this come from?”

 

“Well, I-” She stopped and cleared her throat, trying to keep her composure. “Calm cool logic . . . well, Bobby took me out shopping that one day, remember? Right before your little mission?” At his nod to verify he remembered, she went on. “She decided to calmly drop the bomb about you apparently “liking me”, and I highly doubted it because she's crazy like that-” She made a gesture to emphasize the thought. “That is, until Melody came up and started to harass me, saying I had bewitched you or something-”

 

“She harassed you?”

 

“Yes-that's not the point. Forget I said that.” She shook her head, sighing at his protectiveness. “Anyways, she was all mad because she heard you singing that one song and-”

 

His face grew red.

 

“Oh, Arceus. Rain . . . please tell me she was lying.” When he only looked away, her eyes widened and her tone grew a bit more panicky. “Rain . . . Rain, you're not answering me. Hey, darling, ans- dammit!” She smacked her forehead. “Gah, I can't stop it!”

 

“It's true,” he mumbled. “I was singing that to myself. After hearing Bobby hum the tune a little while ago, it got stuck in my head, and . . .” His mouth hung open as she waited for him to finish, but he only sighed and ran his hand over head as he suddenly got a pensive frown on his face.

 

“. . . to be honest,” she spoke up, her voice strangely quiet as she stared at her feet, “I hadn't thought about it at all, not seriously, until you all left.” Almost leaving it at that, she sighed and crossed her arms, picking her head up to meet his gaze. “You're not the only one to get that song stuck in your head. It's really annoying, too, because it fits so well with us explorers and . . .”

 

“And it shows a sort of devotion we can only envy,” he added, voice just as quiet.

 

“Yeah.”

 

They were silent after that, an awkward tension in the air making her wish she could travel back in time before it all started-back to when they would just sit on the beach and talk about simple things, before they became attached in the oddest way. Before they started to get closer, when they didn't need to become involved in the others' problems. Before he cared about her and she cared about what he thought about her.

 

Before . . . all of this happened.

 

 

.

 

 

They avoided talking about it afterwards (especially since Bobby and Melody had picked the most inopportune time to arrive, much to their delight and dismay) and even avoided each other for a time. His teammates noticed, and while the Roserade was beyond pleased with the new development, the defense of the team wasn't so happy about it. She tried to talk to both of them, but neither wanted to start a conversation; Lady Weavile simply sat in silence in her room or in the kitchen, and Rain didn't even bother giving them orders during their missions.

 

It was starting to worry her.

 

She finally approached her leader as he filled out paperwork, something he had been doing more frequently with the time he used to devote to “bothering” Lady Weavile, and shut the door to earn his attention. He took a moment to finish signing something before placing the pen down and glancing up at her, a blank expression dominating his face. She examined him for a second, trying to find the source of his strange behavior, but eventually cleared her throat and spoke up.

 

“You're not talking to her.”

 

He didn't grace her with a response, instead picking the pen back up and continuing with what he was doing. A bit annoyed but deciding not to yell at him, the Rhyperior stepped to his desk and sat in the chair before it, eyeing him closely. His scarlet eyes flickered over the words rather quickly, barely absorbing the information before writing a quick response and moving on to the next one. The corners of his mouth twitched occasionally, either creeping up or dropping down to show his support or disapproval to whatever was on the paper. He seemed to be trying to keep his mind off of something.

 

She had a feeling she knew what-or, rather, who-it was.

 

“Rain, don't try to ignore me.” Her tone was motherly, firm but caring at the same time. “I can tell when you're having problems, and this one's the size of a Wailord.”

 

His hand paused in its repetitious motions, and he seemed to be pondering whether to do something or not. He eventually made his choice and put the pen down again, picking his chin up to stare at her with a mask of indifference on. She knew him better than that, though, and put her elbows on his desk, smiling at the creak her movement made and the slight frown that appeared on his face. She knew he hated when she did that.

 

“Ignoring or avoiding your problems isn't going to make them go away,” she advised him. “Ignoring a wound doesn't stop it from bleeding, does it? And poison doesn't disappear if you don't think about it.” Pausing to let him insert his opinion, she went on when he didn't. “And it's not making happy campers out of either of you.”

 

“Did she-” He quickly caught himself, but it was too late; Bobby was smiling at his curiosity, and he grimaced and crossed his arms in a pout. She could always get the best of him.

 

“No,” she finally told him, “she hasn't said anything about it. But I can tell, from both of you and your behaviors, that it's making you miserable. Why don't you just try to talk again? I've never seen you so shy to talk to a girl before.”

 

He tried to glare at her, failed, and then just sighed and looked away.

 

“Ah, right, but this isn't just any girl, now is it?” His silence was confirmation enough. “Because of that, though, it makes it even more important for you to talk to her. If you don't . . .” She shrugged, finally taking her elbows off of the desk to cross her arms over her chest. “Well, she'll slip away for good.”

 

He glanced at her expression, as if waiting for her to tease him, but when she didn't do so he looked out the window and sighed again. “That's what she wants . . .”

 

Glad that he was finally starting to talk, she worked on getting him to open his eyes. “Or that's what she wants you to think.” When his head swiveled to look at her in surprise, she grinned at his sudden interest in her words. “Think about it. She's seen her two partners pair up and make some stupid decisions, destroy her trust in them and cause the break-up of her team. Now, if that's what happens to people in the same team, imagine what could happen between the leaders of two different ones.” His eyes swirled with contemplation, understanding brightening the dull gleam they had before.

 

He eventually frowned, something she wasn't glad to see. “But . . .” Pausing to think carefully about his words, he finally asked her, “What if she doesn't listen to me?”

 

She shrugged. “I wish I could give you a sure answer, but that's just it-life is never certain.” Her eyes twinkled merrily, and she reached a claw over to gently pat his shoulder. “But, it's all worth it in the end. She's worth it. Right?”

 

After a moment of silent deliberation, determination fired up in his eyes as he patted her encouraging claw. “Yes. She is.” Then, he jumped out of his seat and sprinted across the room, slamming the door open as he rushed down the hallway towards the guest room. Bobby smiled and leaned back, a triumphant grin on her face, before falling backwards and colliding with the ground with a large thump! She groaned.

 

“Dammit, I need to go on a diet.”

 

Rain hurried down the hall and around the corner, having to dodge to the side to avoid running into the Roserade making her way to the kitchen. Melody gasped and fell onto her behind in surprise, but he couldn't stop to assist her. He had to talk to Weavile. Now. He felt a bit guilty for leaving her there, but he made a note to make it up to her somehow-later.

 

He skidded around another corner and had to grab onto the doorknob to avoid flying past her door, and he threw it open to see her with a foot out the window. His sudden entrance surprised her and caused her to lose her balance, but with his adrenaline still pumping after the frantic dash to her room he leapt across and grabbed her arm to prevent her falling. Such an elaborate rescue wasn't really needed, considering the place was only one floor, but it was more of a way to keep her from escaping.

 

She looked up at him to no doubt give a sharp retort, but something in her demeanor changed and caused her to bite her lip anxiously. As he pulled her back into the room, she muttered without her usual acid tone, “You know, you have the worst timing ever.”

 

“Haven't I always?” Memories of such events threatened to distract him from his purpose, but he quickly shook them away to focus on her. He told her, “Look, I have to talk to you. It's important.”

 

“Oh, no.” She jerked her arm out of his grasp. “Not this again.”

 

“No, no, listen to me, please.” He didn't go to grab her arm again, but his urgent tone effectively had the same result. As she looked up at him expectantly, he cleared his throat and kept his confidence from plunging. It's now or never, Rain. “I know the thought of being in a relationship isn't exactly ideal right now. Being the leaders of our teams doesn't help much, either.”

 

She crossed her arms, looking ready to protest, but something made her bite her tongue, and he was grateful. Her intelligence and sharp tongue always seemed to shoot his ideas down with ease.

 

“And your teammates and my fans probably don't set very stable examples about couples.” He brought his hands up to rest them on her shoulders, keeping her full attention on his words. “But they're not us. Just because it happens to them doesn't mean it's the same for everyone. We're different from them.”

 

“But . . .” Something in her thoughts seemed to be agreeing with him, but she shook her head and tried to argue anyways. “Even though that's true, what makes you think this would work, huh? We argue, we have totally different opinions, and we're going to be busy with our own teams most of the time-if I get back with mine, that is.”

 

He shook his head. “We were able to be friends and leaders at the same time. Why couldn't we be a couple instead?”

 

“Because-it's totally different!” She had to glance away from his intent gaze, down at her feet as she muttered, “Being together means . . . completely trusting each other, able to sacrifice for the other, and . . . what if we're not able to do that?”

 

“I trust you.” He squeezed her shoulders to assure her. “I trust you more than I trust my teammates. I've told you things I haven't told them, and I wouldn't care if they hated me for . . .” He took a deep breath. “For loving you.”

 

She tensed at those words, her eyes widening a fraction.

 

He silently gulped. “Yes, that's right. I love you. Before, when I ran back from the mission, I only knew I liked you a great deal. But, after all of this time thinking and trying to avoid you, I've realized it's much more than that.”

 

“You . . .” Her gulp was a lot less quiet than his. “You rejected Melody, but you . . . love me?”

 

He nodded. “Melody doesn't call me “darling” all of the time, does she?” Her mouth twitched, and he smiled at the reaction. “She doesn't let me be friends with whoever I want, or make me comfortable with sharing my problems with her. She doesn't have my back-during missions, yes, but for everything else . . .”

 

“She doesn't constantly taunt you, either.” She gave him a small smile, making his grow into a pleased grin. “Or call herself “Rose-a-bitch”, like she rightly should.”

 

“She's not tough and arrogant, calling herself the best leader of the best team in town. She's not sarcastic, witty, refined or quietly gorgeous.” He enjoyed making her blush, although his face grew red at the same time. “She's not you. And you're the person I love. Not her.”

 

She looked down, looking rather anxious at his confession.

 

“No, I'm not going to ask you to say the same to me.” He let go of her shoulders and nodded in understanding. “I wouldn't put that sort of pressure on you. Not when you're so worried about it. I can wait.”

 

She made an indignant noise and glanced back up at him. “I'm not worried.” She smirked slyly at him, saying, “That would mean that I cared about your opinion. Which I don't.”

 

He smiled. “And I wouldn't have it any other way.” After a moment of thought, though, he pointed out, “But, you'll have to make-up with your teammates eventually.”

 

She groaned, hanging her head in defeat. “I know, but . . . Arceus, I want to be sure that they trust me.”

 

“They trust you.” He nodded encouragingly. “And they'd love to have their leader-their friend back.”

 

She looked up at him, searching for the confidence his voice radiated and trying to take some for herself, and then straightened up determinedly, a fire burning in her eyes.

 

“Alright. I'll go talk to them.”

 

 

 

.

 

 

Lots of dragon-y love (and cookies!),

~DL (`Dragon Lover')