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A Fine Day in May (Hoennshipping)

Breezy

Well-Known Member
A Fine Day in May


Fiction Rated: T (PG-13) for mild language and sexual content
Genre: Romance/Friendship/Suspense
Shipping: Hoennshipping (Brendan x May)
Disclaimer: The author doesn't own Pokémon and/or any related characters.

Summary
: Eight years after that Team Magma fiasco, May is getting married! But not to Brendan! Or Wally either, weirdos. Desperate to woo back his childhood love, Brendan, with the help of a reluctant Wally, has thirty days to win back May's heart. If only that annoying fiancé of hers would stop getting in the way ... Speaking of which, there's something funny about May's fiancé and not in the cool, clown-like way either.

Chapter Index (last chapter posted 11/06/10)

1) Tuesday - May 1st, 2012
2) Wednesday - May 2nd, 2012
3) Friday - May 4th, 2012
4) Sunday - May 6th, 2012
5) Tuesday - May 15th, 2012
6) Wednesday - May 16, 2012


Welcome to A Fine Day in May. This is the third and final installment of two of my stories (both, I believe, have long been pruned from SPPf, but that's okay). Yes, I do realize I'm going to kill myself writing another 'fic, but this isn't as epically huge. I'm sure I can handle a ten-chapter story.

“But Breezy,” you ask, “do I really need to read two other crappy 'fics to understand this one?” 'Course not, dear reader! Though it would help. It's pretty stand-alone though, so don't fret too much about it if you're a newcomer.

So enjoy and feel free to review, to point out errors, to say it's crap at its finest, and so on. :3

...............................................
Tuesday – May 1st, 2012
...............................................


What a fine day in May
When the trees were on fire,
The sky was dark red,
The ground sticky with mire.

The oceans were angry,
The sun was mad too,
The mountains fell flat,
And the plateaus grew.

At least that's how it felt
When I saw you again,
What a fine day in May
Is how I remember it then.

~

His name was Brendan Birch. He was twenty-three years old. God, was he old.

At least that's how he felt.

“I'm tired of it,” he said firmly, nodding his head. “Tired of traveling. What is the point? I mean, I get these badges, I travel these regions, I meet all these new people only to end up losing to some bratty fifteen year old. What's up with that?”

He stared at himself in the mirror, evaluating his appearance. He cleaned up well. Light stubble was poking its way out, but it was nothing that a quick shave couldn't fix. His tousled, short, white hair was tied back by an old, green bandanna that he should probably replace but was too fond of to throw away. Brendan, however, did away with the cliché Hoenn journey clothing long ago, replacing his black slacks with dark blue denim jeans and the loose orange, black and green Hoenn shirt with a simple green polo, though the tiny half Pokéball design of the Hoenn emblem was stitched on the left chest pocket. What stood out the most from this boy – man really – was his sharp, red eyes, not because of the odd color but the aging and wisdom behind them. Pokémon, friendship, love, hate ... He knew all about it. Eight years of traveling did that.

He put both hands on the polished chestnut dresser and leaned into it, a puzzled expression sketched on his face. “Why don't you answer?” It seemed like the pathetic twenty-three year old was talking to himself, but he really wasn't. He turned around, looking at a man no older than he sitting in a wooden chair, a newspaper covering his face.

“Sorry, what?” said the other man, rolling up the newspaper and shoving it in his backpack. “You were talking to me?”

“... Yes.”

“Ah, well. You're over it.” The other man smiled cheekily, running a hand through his messy, green hair, his dark green eyes sparkling mischievously. He stood up, straightening out his white, button-up shirt, and readjusting the belt that held up his baggy khaki pants. Along his belt was six red and white Pokéballs, each gleaming in the light, and a green and orange PokéNav, its screen glowing. His name was Wally Wood, Pokémon Trainer and friend of Brendan Birch. Once upon a time, the two had a fierce rivalry, but as time went by, they realized they had a lot more in common than they thought.

“What did you ask me?”

Brendan sighed, repeating his question. “What's the point of traveling?”

Wally walked over toward the dresser, backpack in hand, and bent down onto his knees, pulling open a drawer. “You got fourth in the last league we competed in,” he answered, zipping open his backpack and shoving Pokémon supplies into it. “I mean, that's better than most trainers do in their lifetime.”

“We've been at this for awhile,” muttered the white-haired trainer, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples.

“And that's why this is going to be our last journey,” said Wally, standing up and swinging his backpack over his shoulder. “And besides, traveling for us has an ulterior motive, right? I mean, you've been researching Pokémon all over the different regions for a few years now to finish your apprenticeship as a Pokémon Researcher, and I got a job offer to kick up that new gym in Verdanturf Town after we finish this year's journey. It's not all about the badges anymore. Or the glory. Or whatever.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Brendan opened his eyes, picked up each of his six Pokéballs, and started to clip them on his belt, enjoying the satisfying click each ball produced. He picked up his backpack from the dresser table and swung it around his shoulder. “Ah, sweet Hoenn again. How I missed thee. How long has it been?”

Wally shrugged, walking toward the door. “Don't know. Two, three years maybe? Personally, I would have loved to travel the Johto region again, but that's just me.”

“We started here, so we'll end here.”

“Whatever.” The green-haired trainer pushed down on the brass doorknob, swinging it open, wind rushing past him. Past the door was the busy hustle of trainers in the Pokémon Center. People were running in between the lobby desk to pick up healed Pokémon and the small kitchen where trainers could get a bite to eat. The air had the thick, distinct scent of disinfectant, and the sound of beeping machines and the wheels of gurneys squeaking on the cold linoleum rung throughout the room, but it was a fond sound and smell to Brendan. Being around it for so long made it remind him of home.

Brushing past a pair of squabbling ten year olds, Brendan and Wally made their way toward the automated glass doors of the Pokémon Center. Bright, cheery sunlight engulfed them in an embrace, warming them up. A couple rode past them on a pair of Rydel's infamous bikes, zooming through Mauville's bustling square. People were busy window shopping, stopping on the sidewalk and pointing at the window before heading further down the street.

“So, now what?”

It was a simple question asked by Wally, but Brendan didn't know the answer. “Well, I guess we should hit the road. Need any supplies?”

Wally dug through his backpack, shifting its contents. “Yeah. I'm pretty low on Pokéballs, and I suppose I could use more potions.” He then pointed heroically to a building, the wind blowing through his hair at the right moment. “To the PokéMart!”

“Whaaatever.”

Brendan watched amusedly as his friend, though old but still a bit immature at times, did his best not to step on the cracks and lines of the sidewalk (“Step on a crack, and break your mother's back,” as Wally would say) until they passed a building where televisions were stacked on top of each other. “Pokémon Gossip” was on, and usually Brendan would turn away from such trash, but something, or someone, caught his eye.

He turned toward the window, his eyes wide, his arms dropping to his side. “May ...” he said in a whisper, examining the television, putting a hand to the window and smudging the glass with his fingerprints. He watched as the screen showed May in various pictures, ranging from her sipping a drink to her competing in Pokémon Contests.

Wally stopped acting like a moron and turned toward the televisions as well, his eyes narrowing a bit, taking in the appearance of the girl on the television. Below her red and white bandanna tied around her head was shoulder-length, chestnut brown hair that brushed against her shoulders. Her bangs framed her face nicely, showing off her bright, blue eyes. While most of the snapshots showed her in various outfits, Wally could tell she had a curvy, oh so glorious figure underneath her clothing. “Oh, right. Her. I would hit that like the fist of an angry god. ...Who is she again?”

“Really, Wally?” asked Brendan absurdly. “How could you forget her? Don't you remember those seven – no, eight long years ago ... eight long years ago ... eight long years ago ...”

Wally scratched his head. “Why are you repeating yourself?”

“I thought repeating it would trigger a flashback.”

“You're doing it wrong. You've got to make the air wavy to trigger a flashback. Oh, and you got to have the harpsichord playing in the background. Anyway, right, I think I remember her. May isn't it? I heard she became a famous coordinator in Hoenn. She looks ... well.”

“She's beautiful,” Brendan said truthfully, gazing at the television with longing eyes.

“Still not over her, hmm? She broke up with you all that time ago.”

“No. Technically we said break.”

“Oh, right. An eight year 'break.' I won't tell her about last summer in Kanto during Mardi Gras when you met that girl, and you decided, 'Hey, one more drink can't hurt-'”

“I was there. No need to remind me,” he groaned. “I suppose you're right though.” Brendan placed his arms behind his neck and looked up wistfully. “I wonder ... I mean, if I stayed in contact with her. I tried, I really did. But the letters that came back were shorter and shorter in length until finally they stopped coming. So I guess I gave up as well.” He then glared at Wally who was playing an invisible violin like tragedy struck.

Wally dropped his arms and smiled sheepishly. “Guess you never will.”

“I guess.” Brendan's face dampened as the pictures of May were replaced with a reporting of a Psyduck and Wigglytuff falling in love. “Anyway, you go ahead and buy your things. I need ... I need to go think for a bit.”

Wally shrugged. “If you say so. I'll catch up with you in a bit.” He took a quick glance at the television, slightly disturbed at the sight of a Psyduck and Wigglytuff spooning before heading into the shop next door, the bell on the door chiming pleasantly.

Sighing to himself, Brendan, his head cast down, walked in the opposite direction, barely managing to dodge a kid who lost control of his bike. Soon, the paved, cracked sidewalk turned into dirt, sand crunching underneath his black and green sneakers. He spotted a lone bench surrounded by shrubbery and sat down on it, tapping his fingers on his thighs.

Reaching down, Brendan unhooked a Pokéball from his belt and enlarged it with the press of a button. He then threw in into the air, the red and white blurring together until the ball split open, white energy bursting from it. The white energy landed on the floor, forming into a rubbery, blue and orange being that stood on its hind legs. Large, gray fins decorated his back and head. Its bright, orange eyes were half closed as he rubbed at them with his front paw, yawning. It was no other than Brendan's first and most faithful Pokémon Muddy, an old, and apparently tired, Swampert.

“Do you remember May, Muddy?” the man asked the sleepy-looking Swampert. Since they both have been traveling together for years now, Brendan had no trouble understanding his Swampert even though Muddy clearly spoke in “Swampert language.”

“... What?” asked the Swampert, scratching his head.

“May. That girl we used to travel with when we were younger.”

“... Who?”

“Oh, sweet Latias,” muttered Brendan, dragging his hand down his face. “May. May Maple. She had a Blaziken named Flare that you used to be close to, and we used to travel together during our first journey – CAN YOU HEAR ME?”

Muddy blinked twice. “... I don't want any!”

Brendan sighed and placed his head in his hands as Muddy laughed, patting his trainer on the head. “Aw, why so serious? Of course I remember May and Fairy.”

“Flare,” the trainer corrected.

Muddy rolled his eyes. “Right. Flare. Whatever. What about May though?”

“I saw her on T.V today.”

“Oh, really? Would you hit it ... like the fist of an angry god?”

“Wally said that earlier. Do you even know what that means?”

The Swampert shrugged. “No, but it has a nice ring to it, don't you think? Are you going to catch up with her now that we're back in Hoenn? I'm sure she misses you.” He chuckled, nudging his trainer.

“I don't know. Maybe,” Brendan answered, looking up toward the sky. “If it happens, it happens, right–“

A loud shriek and the stamping of feet made Brendan look back down toward his Pokémon. “Oh, sweet god! I'M BLIND!” screamed the Swampert, dancing around, trying to swing his short arms toward his face.

“Latios, relax,” muttered Brendan, holding down his Swampert and turning him around to face him. “Muddy, it's just a bandanna.” He pulled it off, and Muddy relaxed, gasping for breath. Brendan examined the red and white bandanna in his hand, feeling the soft and worn out material. It looked like no other Hoenn bandanna, and it could belong to anyone, but Brendan couldn't help but hope. Could it be May's?

“Nah,” he answered himself, holding the bandanna by the corner so it flapped in the wind like a flag. About to let it go, a voice behind him caught his attention.

“Excuse me? Sir? I think that's my bandanna.”

Brendan felt his heart skip a beat. He turned around, and sure enough it was May. Smiling sweetly, she bent over a bit so she could see eye to eye with the nervous wreak of white-haired trainer. Without her bandanna, her hair blew freely in the breeze, her bangs teasing her forehead. He knew those blue eyes well; they haven't changed they a bit; they were kind, intelligent, and loving. She was dressed pretty casually. A black miniskirt showed off her long, lightly tanned legs, while a tight, white-collared shirt hugged at her curves perfectly.

God, he loved her.

Brendan tried his best to talk, but it felt like he swallowed balls of cotton. “Uh ...” He shakily handed the bandanna over to May who took it willingly.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling wider, her eyes sparkling. She shifted her hair to the side tying the bandanna around her head firmly. Satisfied, she brushed her hair back into place with her fingers. “Well, um, thanks again for finding it. Bye.” She turned around and was about to walk away when the strange man said,

“Wait.”

“Yes?” May brushed the hair out of her face that the wind playfully placed there and walked back toward Brendan.

Brendan calmed down a bit and was able to form sentences. “You don't remember me?”

May sat down on the bench, crossing her legs, taking in this strange guy's appearance. “Can't say I do,” she said truthfully. “Did we compete in a contest?”

He shook his head. “No. You used to remember that I was never big on contests.”

“Hmm.” She rubbed her chin, shifting her head to the side like she were thinking. “Oh! Did we meet on that cruise ship that went in between Lilycove and Slateport? That was a fun cruise.”

“I'm sure it was, but no. You used to know that I get seasick.”

“Oh, I don't know,” she said, laughing a bit. “I mean, I haven't traveled around that much besides the Hoenn region, and even then, it's only the major landmark cities, like Lilycove and Mauville. I mean, I was a trainer once upon a time and–“ Her eyes widened. “No way ...”

Brendan nodded, grinning. “Remember me now?”

“B Boy?” The pet name May had for Brendan made Butterfrees flutter in his stomach. “Omigosh! Brendan!” May quickly embraced him in a tight hug, and Brendan hugged back, finding comfort in her arms. She then let go, still gripping onto his arms, and staring into the deepness of his eyes. “Wow! I haven't seen you for years! How are you?”

“Oh, same ole,” he said with a laugh. “I've been traveling all over, exploring different regions. It's been ... interesting. I just came back to this region yesterday. I heard you became one of Hoenn's best coordinators.”

She blushed. “Oh, everyone says that. There's always room to improve though. Are you still a trainer?”

“Somewhat. I've been doing that on the side while researching Pokémon in their natural habitat for a few years now. My apprenticeship ends this year, and I should be able to open my own laboratory somewhere next year.”

“Like father, like son.” May smiled, remembering that Brendan was the son of the famous Professor Birch of the Hoenn region. A loud, annoying beeping noise rang from her purse, and she opened it, fishing out a red and white PokéNav. “Oh, darn. There's trouble at the Verdanturf Contest. Hey, we should totally meet up for lunch tomorrow when I'm not busy, k?” she said, getting up from the bench, still holding on lightly to Brendan's hand.

“Yeah. That'll be nice,” Brendan replied softly, looking at their entwined hands. He reluctantly pulled away, still feeling it tingle from her touch.

“I'll call you, okay?” she said, heading toward the grassy city. She turned her head and waved good-bye to him. “Bye, B Boy!”

“Bye ...”

- - -​

“She's amazing, Wally. And gorgeous. She's just ... Wow.” Brendan flopped over backward in his bed in their room at the Pokémon Center, a huge smile etched on his face.

“Mhm,” said the green-haired trainer absentmindedly as he flipped through a gossip magazine the Center provided. “That girl is also the reason why we're not in Rustboro right now.”

“You should have seen her, Wally.” He ignored his disgruntled friend. “God ... She was so ... I don't even know. When I saw her, I knew that I was still in love with her. She's amazing! She's perfect! She's–“

“Engaged,” interrupted Wally, raising an eyebrow, causing Brendan to sit up, his goofy grin disappearing into a look of shock and horror.

“What was that?”

“Engaged,” he repeated. “As in, you know, engaged to be married.”

“Bull!” Brendan quickly jumped onto his feet and rushed toward the table where Wally sat on, snatching the magazine out of his hands. His eyebrows furrowed together as he read the article. “May Maple,” he read out loud, “is going to be a blushing bride this month. Coincidently enough, the famous coordinator has decided to get married Thursday, May 31st to Sean A. Sidio. Who the hell is that?”

“Someone from Hoenn? A coordinator?” Wally shrugged, taking the magazine back. “That sucks, dude. You just found her today too.”

Brendan began to pace the floor, a hand running his chin. “What's the date?” he demanded.

“Uh ...” Wally unclipped the PokeNav off his belt and looked at it. “May 1st. Why?”

“May 1st ...” Brendan repeated, stopping in his tracks and looking at Wally. “May 1st ... She's getting married May 31st. So I have thirty days to win her back. To make her remember how she felt about me all those years ago. Do you think I can do it?”

Wally looked at Brendan worriedly. “I don't know, Brendan. I mean ... She's moved on obviously. Maybe you should too. I know you two had it 'bad' for each other when you were fifteen, but Latios, man. You were fifteen. Fifteen year olds don't fall in love.”

The white-haired man shook his head. “No. I did. And I still am. I really am ashamed that I pushed her to the back of mind like that after all this time, but the moment I saw her at the bench, I knew we were meant to be. That I still loved her.” He took a deep breath, his heart racing. “I have to do this, Wally.”

“If you say so. I guess that means traveling is on a hiatus?”

“Unfortunately.”

Wally sighed. “All right. We'll take another month break. Again. I suppose it'll give me a chance to check out the new gym and figure out what Pokémon I'm going to use as gym leader.” He then looked at Brendan seriously, his eyes solemn. “Brendan, if she's happy with this other guy, I don't think you should ruin it. The hardest part of being in love is letting the love go.”

Brendan shook his head. “The hardest part about being in love is not doing anything about it and then wondering what could have happened.”

“Touché.”

“I'll win her back, Wally. Mark my words.”
 
Last edited:

shadow_shipper

...indeed...
Do you know you're on of the reasons that got me addicted to this place ?
Long ago I started reading the epic Brendan and May adventure, butat some point, there weren't any updates...and I stopped.
I'll take a peek later on...last thing I remember was Wally and Brendan facing off for "May's love".

I am thrilled to review this fic.
You are the reference for HoennShipping in book...same level as Water Spirit, PikamasterADV and Encyclopika for their respective domains.

[/praise]

On with it.

“Tired of traveling. What is the point? I mean, I get these badges, I travel these regions, I meet all these new people only to end up losing to some bratty fifteen year old. What's up with that?”

How life can be frustrating...

Brendan, however, did away with the cliché Hoenn journey clothing long ago, replacing his black slacks with dark blue denim jeans and the loose orange, black and green Hoenn shirt with a simple green polo (though the tiny half Pokéball design of the Hoenn emblem was stitched on the left chest pocket). What stood out the most from this boy – man really – was his sharp, red eyes, not because of the odd color but the aging and wisdom behind them. Pokémon, friendship, love, hate ... He knew all about it. Eight years of traveling did that.

Nice description, though you could have taken out the brackets.
Maybe just use a comma ?

“And besides, traveling for us has an ulterior motive, right? I mean, you've been researching Pokémon all over the different regions for a few years now to finish your apprenticeship as a Pokémon Researcher, and I got a job offer to kick up that new gym in Verdanturf Town after we finish this year's journey. It's not all about the badges anymore. Or the glory. Or whatever.”

In short : having a purpose.

The air had the thick, distinct scent of disinfectant

o_o
Something I haven't seen in a very long time : description of smell.
Which I consider being something unique to put into a fic, since it makes us use another sense...rather that just the sight.

“Really, Wally?” asked Brendan absurdly. “How could you forget her? Don't you remember those seven – no, eight long years ago ... eight long years ago ... eight long years ago ...”

Wally scratched his head. “Why are you repeating yourself?”

“I thought repeating it would trigger a flashback.”

“You're doing it wrong. You've got to make the air wavy to trigger a flashback. Oh, and you got to have the harpsichord playing in the background.

lol
So true :p

“Still not over here, hmm? She broke up with you all that time ago.”

her

“Thank you,” she said, smiling wider, her eyes sparkling. She shifted her hair to the side tying the bandanna around her head firmly. Satisfied, she brushed her hair back into place with her fingers. “Well, um, thanks again for finding it. Bye.”

No memories of the first person you travelled with those long years ago ?
Nothing to remember him by ? No fond souvenirs that made him impossible to forget ?...

sad.

“Oh, I don't know,” she said, laughing a bit. “I mean, I haven't traveled around that much besides the Hoenn region, and even then, it's only the major landmark cities, like Lilycove and Mauville. I mean, I was a trainer once upon a time and–“ Her eyes widened. “No way ...”

Brendan nodded, grinning. “Remember me now?”

“B Boy?” The pet name May had for Brendan made Butterfrees flutter in his stomach. “Omigosh! Brendan!” May quickly embraced him in a tight hug, and Brendan hugged back, finding comfort in her arms. She then let go, still gripping onto his arms, and staring into the deepness of his eyes. “Wow! I haven't seen you for years! How are you?”

Not too bad I guess ^^

“May 1st ...” Brendan repeated, stopping in his tracks and looking at Wally. “May 1st ... She's getting married May 31st. So I have thirty days to win her back. To make her remember how she felt about me all those years ago. Do you think I can do it?”

Wally looked at Brendan worriedly. “I don't know, Brendan. I mean ... She's moved on obviously. Maybe you should too. I know you two had it 'bad' for each other when you were fifteen, but Latios, man. You were fifteen. Fifteen year olds don't fall in love.”

There's a certain amount of truth in there.
and besides...if a girl is engaged, that means she's happy and wants to spend the rest of her life with the man she's engaged to.
Wouldn't it make you a prick to try and ruin that relationship ?

“Brendan, if she's happy with this other guy, I don't think you should ruin it. The hardest part of being in love is letting the love go.”

Oh.
Wow, guess we have the same opinion on the matter...

Brendan shook his head. “The hardest part about being in love is not doing anything about it and then wondering what could have happened.”

“Touché.”

“I'll win her back, Wally. Mark my words.”

I won't comment on that part, but I'm suffering from the same situation at the moment...

Okay, this seems good !
I love the fact that I get to read new material from you, and I'll be sure to check on "A Brendan and May Adventure".

This has nice length, a seemingly interessting plot, very realistic descritpons, humour and some recoil concerning the characters and writing...I like it ^^

A typo here and there won't have much influence, but there's nothing much to change here.
This doesn't seem rushed either.

Keep on going like that, it has all to make for one pleasant fanfic, concerning a ship in serious lack of exposure recently...

Untill next time,

Cheers
 

Breezy

Well-Known Member
Do you know you're on of the reasons that got me addicted to this place ?
Long ago I started reading the epic Brendan and May adventure, butat some point, there weren't any updates...and I stopped.
I'll take a peek later on...last thing I remember was Wally and Brendan facing off for "May's love".
*tries to think* There are a few of those, I think. There's one in Fortree, and one in Lilycove. Either way, you got a helluva to read. o_O Good luck if you do read it again, lol.

Anyway, glad I was one of the reasons that you got addicted to these forums. ^_^ Or I'm sorry that I was one of the reasons you got addicted to these forums ._. Lol.
I am thrilled to review this fic.
You are the reference for HoennShipping in book...same level as Water Spirit, PikamasterADV and Encyclopika for their respective domains.
Dunno. There were a lot of Hoennshippers when I started HLBMA, but I am flattered. ;P

Nice description, though you could have taken out the brackets.
Maybe just use a comma ?
Fixed. Reading it over, I realized that I didn't need parenthesis, so thanks for catching that.

o_o
Something I haven't seen in a very long time : description of smell.
Which I consider being something unique to put into a fic, since it makes us use another sense...rather that just the sight.
Smell is hard to write about lol. I try to write about all the scents, sounds, and sights, but I usually fail at the scents part.

Fixed too. Thanks for catching that.

No memories of the first person you travelled with those long years ago ?
Nothing to remember him by ? No fond souvenirs that made him impossible to forget ?...

sad.
Jerk, amirite? I mean, it hasn't been that long. >_>

Anyway, thanks for reviewing! Hope you can survive HLBMA if you do read it, and I hope I see you again when I update this one. ;P
 

Breezy

Well-Known Member
...............................................
Wednesday – May 2nd, 2012
...............................................


“Oh, hell no, Brendan!”

“Why not?” Brendan argued while readjusting the collar of his shirt. He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it up a bit before readjusting the bandanna on his head, smiling at his nonchalant but tidy appearance.

“See, this is what happens whenever I meet up with you and May,” began Wally, sighing. “For example, remember that one week when both you and May came to visit and the fair was in town?”

Brendan smiled at the memory. “Good times.”

“Yeah. I don't know how that 'fun fair' in Mauville turned to some god forsaken mission to Lilycove, trying to deactivate some god forsaken piece of machinery.”

“Well ... It turned out all right, didn't it?”

Wally shook his head. “No, no. I'm not done. Then a few months later, you both came back again, and here I am thinking, 'Oh, you'll be okay this time, Wally. All you need to do is plan some surprise birthday party for your cousin! Don't worry about Team Magma or Team Aqua popping up this time!' But noooo ... Even that turned into some confusing thing where you had to kill me, or I had to kill a dog, and there was something about our moms – I don't remember! I try to block that out of my memory. Either way I have concluded that you-” he pointed at Brendan, “-and her together equals BAD NEWS. I refuse to come. Besides, I always end up injured. Screw that!”

“Oh, come on. Team Magma and Team Aqua haven't appeared for years. They're long gone,” Brendan retaliated, rolling his eyes. “Besides, don't you want to see May again? She was your friend too, and I'm sure she'd be happy to see you as well.”

Wally sighed. “I suppose. Where are you meeting her?”

“The restaurant down the street. That diner or whatever. We're having lunch.”

Wally flipped through his newspaper casually, licking his fingers so he could turn the pages. “Are you paying for me?” he finally asked after a few minutes of silence, his eyes narrowing a bit as he read the fine print.

Brendan pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, opening it and examining its contents. “If I have to,” he muttered back, putting his wallet back.

“Then I would love to come.” Grinning, Wally folded the paper neatly in half and placed it on the table, getting up to stretch his legs. He then walked toward the window and pushed back the drapes, peering outside. It was another fine day in Mauville. Sunshine smiled down cheerfully on the city. “Why couldn't we stay in the Pokémon Center again? You know how expensive it is going to be renting out this motel room for a month?”

“Um ... Is the answer very? Either way, I'm not going to leech off Nurse Joy's hospitality especially since we're not traveling. You know those rooms are for one-nighters anyway.”

His friend snickered. “Pardon?”

Brendan rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“The moment to be sadistic was calling out for me. Anyway, why couldn't we stay at one of our houses then? I mean, you just bought yours. Don't you want to, you know, live in it?”

“Oh, right, Wally. Let me fly back and forth between here and Mossdeep every day. Staying here is just easier if I want to keep seeing May, and what else am I going to do with my winnings from last year? It's not like I really need the money, and it's not like it's a huge waste either. That and I was never fond of that new house smell. I hope it airs out in a year.”

“Uh ... huh.” Shrugging, Wally walked away from the window and toward the door, opening it with the jiggling of the rusty knob. Fresh air greeted him, running its hand through his loose, green locks. He then uncertainly turned around to face the man behind him.

“You're not really going to ... try and win back May, are you?” he asked.

Brendan blinked, shutting the door behind them. “I answered that last night, didn't I?” he murmured, fishing out the motel key and locking it, shaking the doorknob to make sure it locked properly.

“Well, yeah, but it sounded like one of those heat-of-the-moment type of scenarios. And, I know, I know; it was one of those picture perfect, too good to be real, movie type of scenes that you had with her, and of course the most cliché follow-up scene would be to pursue her, but I don't think real life works like that.”

Naively, Brendan asked back, “Why not? Why can't it be like that?”

“It just ... doesn't, okay? I don't want you to get your hopes up. That's all.”

“You're a good friend, Wally. I'll be fine though.”

Silently, the two made their way toward the restaurant across the street from their motel. It was a rusty, old diner complete with grimy windows and gray, hazy smoke spiraling from the vent on its roof. Despite it run down appearance, it had a classic, quaint feel to it, and it made Brendan feel nostalgic; he had many meals there when he traveled the Hoenn region as a rookie trainer.

Wally swung the glass door of the diner open, making the bell connected to it ring before falling off and conking him in the head. Hastily, Wally rubbed his head and grumbled before trying to tie the bell back to the door while Brendan looked around, trying to find his friend. Discovering none, he trudged down the thin aisle that separate the counter from the tables toward an open booth, his shoes making suction-like noises as they tried to glue themselves to the sticky ground. He plopped himself in a booth, the red vinyl seating squeaking underneath him. Surely enough, Wally slid in the seat opposite of Brendan, grabbed hold of the salt shaker and slid it in between his hands across the slippery surface of the laminated menu in front of him. He then stared at the grumpy, white-haired trainer.

“... Do you need a hug?” he finally spoke, smiling sheepishly afterward.

Brendan glared. “Shut up.”

“Latios, so bitter. I'm sure she's coming. Be patient.” He then stifled a laugh by biting his lip, his eyes sparkling in amusement. “But if she doesn't, this probably is one of the greatest pranks ever.”

“Again, shut up.”

“Fine, fine.” Wally went back to shuffling the salt shaker in between his hands and was about to throw the ketchup bottle in the mix when the soft chime of the bell caught his attention. Since he was facing the door, he was the first to notice a young lady come in, a red and white bandanna tied around her hair. The breeze teased at her bangs, and she pushed them down with her finely manicured hand, a small smile tugging at her face. With a raised eyebrow and a confusing sort of grin on his own face, Wally hesitantly raised his hand a bit. Surprisingly, this caught the girl's attention.

“Wally? Is that you?” she squealed excitedly, dashing down the aisle and knocking over a stand that held menus, almost tripping herself.

Quick yet unsure, Wally stood up, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as the girl flung both her arms around her old friend, burying her head into his shoulder. Scratching his head, confused, Wally glanced down at Brendan and then back up, noticing the rage in his friend's eyes.

What the HELL is this? Brendan couldn't help but think, both eyes wide as he watched the two embrace. She could remember him but not him, the Brendan Birch? Not the man that she traveled with for at least a year? Not the man that she dated for a month or so? For Groudon's sake, he was her first friend when she moved here!

Stop rambling to yourself
, thought the infuriated Brendan. Just smile, get up from the table, and hug her. And then punch Wally later.

“It's nice to see you?” he heard Wally say meekly as May released him from her grip and grabbed onto his hands, swinging them back and forth, examining his appearance fully. Since she was evaluating him, he only thought it would be fair to observe her as well.

Brendan was right; she was beautiful, but not in the same, creepy, stalker-like way his friend thought. She grew up well, and Latios she was not afraid to show it. Curvy and slender, she was what every girl disdained in public but secretly wanted to be in private. He then looked to her left hand to make sure the tabloids he read were true, and sure enough, a golden ring with the diamond the size of – holyyyy. Her fiancé was R-I-C-H.

May released Wally's hands and smiled. “It's nice to see you too, Wally. Wow! Why haven't you called me after all this time?” she joked, nudging him in the shoulder before sitting next to Brendan, patting the white-haired man's hand comfortingly. Brendan felt Beautiflys beat their wings against the insides of his stomach when she did so.

Wally slid back into his seat, the booth squeaking underneath his bottom. “Oh, you know. When I was about to call, I thought to myself, 'Hey, don't you want to have this long, winding conversation with May about what you both have been up to?' and it sounded so tempting, so I had to do it.”

“Well obviously you've grown up from that shy, little trainer to a sarcastic ... um ...”

“I'm a trainer still,” Wally said after May trailed off thoughtfully. “Last year traveling though with my pally Brendan over here.” He reached across the table and patted Brendan's head, making him swat at his hand like a Skitty after a ball of wool.

“That's right. I forgot you two traveled together. By the way, congratulations on getting accepted to open that new gym in Verdanturf!” May complimented, fiddling with her set of forks and spoons wrapped up tightly in a paper napkin.

“Thanks! Oh, and to you too, May, for becoming such a successful coordinator. I keep reading about you in the newspaper ever since Brendan and I returned to Hoenn, and you always seem to always be in tabloids.”

May blushed at this. “Oh, most of that stuff in the tabloids are not true.”

Brendan broke his silence. “Really?”

She turned her head toward Brendan. “Of course, B Boy. Do you really think I'm the long lost niece of Professor Birch.”

He shuddered. “God, I hope not.”

“'Tis what I thought.” She grabbed hold of the menu and took a quick glance at it, her eyes darting back and forth. “I remember the first time I came here and what I ordered. It was apple pie.” She laughed, a delicate ringing in Brendan's ears. “Though I suppose I should get an actual meal.”

“It all is pretty greasy and contains the same fat content,” responded Wally as he took grabbed hold of his menu, narrowing his eye as he read it. “So it really doesn't matter.” He received an eyebrow raise from the man sitting across from him. “What?”

“Nothing,” Brendan answered quickly as he looked shiftily to the side. “I'm just going to get a burger.”

As soon as these words left Brendan's lips, a waitress, chewing gum profoundly from her mouth, came to their table and took their order and their menus away, hurrying away and giving their order to the chef behind the counter. Brendan watched amusedly but awe-struck all the same as she balanced three plates with her right arm while holding two cups of steaming hot coffee with her left.

The tinkling of the bell that swung on the door rung as a man entered, but Brendan ignored it seeing as May was here, smiling at him. She certainly was lovely. He then contemplated how he going to go about getting May to think of him as “more as a friend” again. The feeling of awkward adolescence overwhelmed him – a feeling he had long abandoned around the age of seventeen – from thinking such thoughts. They were kind of blissful instead of embarrassing though. Almost heartwarming even.

This feeling was soon shot down when May squeaked and exclaimed, “Sean! What are you doing here?” Her scream caught the attention of the man that just entered that shuffled his way toward the counter. The man quickly said a few more words to the waitress behind the counter before heading over toward their table.

This was him. This was Sean A. Jackassthatstolemygirl or whatever his name was. This was the man May was engaged to.

Quick!
thought Brendan, giving the man standing next to their table a quick look up and down. What does he have that you don't? What makes him so different from you?

Well, hair was one of them. His hair was thick, black, gelled up and trimmed finely, the ends barely brushing up against the nape of his neck. A thin goatee, well maintained, was on his chiseled jaw, a jaw full of perfect, white teeth. While not necessarily as tall as Brendan's lean six foot two, he was muscular and more sturdy built. He then revealed his eyes from underneath his pair of dark sunglasses. They were a sparkling blue, somewhat like May's own set of dazzling eyes, but much more narrow and colder.

“I was craving some of Betty's famous apple pie since we're in the Mauville area, darling,” Sean replied, placing his hands on the edge of the table and resting his weight on them. Brendan noticed a silver, diamond-encrusted watch on his left wrist, making him raise an eyebrow. A simple, silver chain complete with dog tags swung back and forth between his open, gray blazer and the air in front of him, and Brendan squinted his eyes, trying to read the engraving on it, but Sean pulled away when a waitress came by holding a pink box in her hands. He took it, pressing it against his finely toned chest.

“How cute. I ordered the same thing,” said May, smiling as Sean bent down a bit to kiss her on the lips. Brendan tried his best to not gag.

The man laughed and then took notice of the two men sitting with May, the white-haired one trying to avoid his eye contact while the other one looked on the verge of laughing with his cheeks puffed out, his eyes squinted, and a fist pressed hard against his pursed lips. “And who are your friends, May?”

“Oh, how silly of me. This is Wally Wood, a longtime friend. I helped him catch a Ralts a long, long time ago back when I was a trainer,” said May, gesturing to the snickering Wally.

“It's nice to meet you.” Wally shook Sean's hand, smiling wide to contain his laughter.

She then gestured toward Brendan who was looking up at the ceiling. “And this is Brendan Birch.”

“Brendan Birch,” repeated Sean thoughtfully. “Your name sounds familiar. Hey, you got fifth in Kanto's Pokémon League last year, right?”

“Fourth,” muttered Brendan, glaring when Wally snorted.

“Yeah, that was a tough battle. I remember watching it. You've got to show me how you got your Pidgeot to swoop down so low like that without it crashing. I've been trying to teach my Pelipper that, but no luck.”

Brendan tore his eyes away from Wally and looked at Sean instead. “You watched the Indigo League?”

“Oh, yeah. I love watching league battles. Granted, they're not as refined as Pokemon Coordinators –” he smiled at May when he said this, “– but they're intense. You see some amazing things. The coming together of Pokemon and trainer, the triumph, the pride, the failure ... It's all pretty inspiring.”

Brendan couldn't help but smile at this statement. “I know what you mean.”

May rolled her eyes. “Can we stop this ... ugh, trainer talk, please?”

Sean laughed. “Right. I forgot how much you dislike the League. Anyway, I got your name, but I don't think you have mine. I'm Sean. Sean Sidio. I'm May's fiancé.”

Brendan was already aware of this but shook his hand anyway, doing his best to keep composure at Sean's last sentence. “It's nice to meet you, Sean.”

“The pleasure's all mine, Brendan, especially meeting a trainer of your stature.” Sean shifted the box to his right hand and checked the watch on his left. “Ooh, two already? I've got to get out of here.” He turned toward May. “I'll meet you back in Verdanturf later. Okay, love?”

“Okay,” she replied, raising her head a bit. Sean pecked her on the cheek, and she giggled like a young school girl. “Bye.”

With a quick wave and a small smile, Sean walked down the aisle of the diner and toward the door, pushing it open and exiting. Then there was silence except for the rattling of clinking dishes, the sizzling of a hot stove, and the incessant chatter of hungry customers and impatient waitresses.

“He seems nice,” piped up Wally, staring out the window before turning his head toward Brendan and May.

“He is,” May agreed, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Wally tapped his fingers on the table. “So um ... What is he?”

“A human,” snorted Brendan.

“I meant as in his career, wise arse.”

“He studies Pokémon marine life. Actually, he took over his dad's business which is a water Pokémon reservoir,” May answered, ignoring Brendan's earlier comment. “And since I know you're wondering, I met him last year at a contest I was competing in. It was so cute. He was all shy and only told me he was there to look at the Pokémon competing when he was really there to watch me.” She giggled, pressing a finger against her rosy lips.

“Ah. Sounds interesting,” replied the green-haired man, tapping his fingers impatiently on the table. “And if I heard correctly, you're engaged?”

She nodded quickly. “Yeah. We're getting married May 31st.” May clapped her hands together excitedly. “Oh! Are you guys still going to be here around that time? I'd love for you both to come!”

Brendan and Wally looked at each other before Brendan answered. “We'll see what we can do.”

“Great!” she exclaimed happily. “I'll give you an invitation the next time I see you –” A loud beeping from May's purse rung out in a loud, high pitch, and Brendan groaned, familiar with the ring of her PokéNav. “Darn. Again?” She pulled out the device from her bag and flipped open the cover, quickly reading over the message she was sent, sighing, blowing up her bangs. “They need me back in Verdanturf. Something about the carpet not matching the drapes?” She shrugged at the disgruntled face Brendan made and the snort Wally produced after he took a drink of water.

“Is there going to be any day that you're not going to be busy?” Brendan complained in a joking tone.

“Well, the contest is Friday around noon. Maybe you can stop by – oh, don't make that face, Brendan.” May rolled her eyes at the disgusted face the man pulled. “Once that's over, I should be free for the rest of the month. Well, as free as a girl is with less than a month before her marriage date can be.” She laughed. “Maybe you and me can hang out after the contest?”

Brendan nodded. “I'd like that a lot, May.”

“Great! I promise I'm all yours then.” She gave him a quick hug before standing up, resting her hands on her hips, shifting a bit as the waitress came back with their food. “Mind eating what I ordered, guys?”

Wally quickly grabbed at May's plate – a slice of apple pie. “Not at all.”

She laughed a bit at Wally's antics before turning his attention toward Brendan again. “So ... I'll see you Friday then?”

“Friday would be nice, yeah,” replied Brendan, too anxious to eat.

“All right. Until then, bye!” She waved them off before darting down the aisle, barely dodging a waitress holding a tray full of food. Brendan turned around and watched her go, sighing wistfully to himself. While this day didn't go exactly as planned, he managed to squeeze a real date with May. She promised to be all his. While he knew what she meant by that, it was nice to dream that it meant something else.

“She wanted to forget you.”

“What?” Brendan quickly turned his head toward Wally who busy slapping the bottom of the ketchup bottle to squeeze out a drip of the red condiment.

Wally avoided eye contact with him though, observing the goop trickle out slowly onto his plate. He then reached for the salt shaker and shook it across his fries. “Yeah ...” he murmured quietly, trailing off. “It's not obvious to you?”

“Nooo ...?”

“Don't kid yourself,” Wally sharply retaliated, making Brendan squirm uncomfortably at his tone. “How can a girl completely forget about the boy she's traveled with for A YEAR but remember that little runt she helped catch a Ralts for? How can she barely remember who you are when she seems to know everything about me? The answer is she can't. Not without trying anyway. She wanted to forget you, and she probably did if you didn't remind her about you about your existence. I mean, hell, Brendan. She even remembered her first meal here. Doesn't that strike you as odd?”

“I don't know. Maybe?”

“Mmm.” Wally pressed his lips together and rubbed them, getting them wet, a habit Brendan knew Wally did when he was nervous or was about to admit something awful. “Brendan, I –”

“I already know what you're going to say,” Brendan interrupted, hushing his friend. “'There was a reason that she wanted to forget you. You did something stupid, and she moved on without you.' Is that what you're going to say?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then what, Wally?”

“I think YOU should move on.”

He gawked. “No!”

“Don't be stupid, Brendan,” groaned Wally, running a hand down his face in frustration. He dipped a fry into his ketchup and threw it in his mouth, chewing and swallowing thoughtfully. “You just met her fiancé, and crap, dude. That guy is ... perfect. He can give her anything she wanted and then some, not to mention he's probably the most beautiful man I've ever seen. Oh, those eyes,” he trailed off dreamily, his eyes going misty. He then regained his composure when Brendan stared at him oddly. “I'd totally go for your plan if he was a complete jerk wad, but he's not. He's good for her. He'll make her happy.”

“First appearances aren't all they seem to be,” coolly replied Brendan, pulling his plate toward him and grabbing the salt shaker. He shook it too hard in his frustration, and the top came off, spilling the white crystals all over his pile of fries.

“I'm just saying, that's all. I'd hate to repeat myself, but if she's happy with this Sean fellow, I don't think you should ruin it.”

“You can't stop me,” Brendan childishly argued.

Wally shook his head. “I'm not trying to, Brendan.”

“Good.”

“Just don't be selfish, okay?”

“I won't.”

“I know it's easy to make decisions based on what makes you happy, but if you really love this girl like you say you do, you'll put her and her happiness first.”

“I know, Wally.”

“And keep in mind about what I said. There has to be a reason why she won't acknowledge your past with her.”

“Your words will be like an annoying, little fly that won't go away.”

Wally sighed again, picking up a fry and dragging it around in his ketchup as Brendan glanced out the window, resting his chin on a closed palm. All his emotions were mixing together. He was excited about his “date” with May in a couple days, but Wally's words kept eating away at him. Wally was wrong, right?

Bah. Of course he was. May didn't want to forget him. He had to be wrong.

God, he prayed he was wrong.
 
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shadow_shipper

...indeed...
Oh, between my slacking, I must have missed the update...
How shameful :eek:

“Either way I have concluded that you-” he pointed at Brendan, “-and her together equals BAD NEWS. I refuse to come. Besides, I always end up injured. Screw that!”

And that is precisely why we keep coming back for more ^^

“Why couldn't we stay in the Pokémon Center again? You know how expensive it is going to be renting out this motel room for a month?”

“Um ... Is the answer very?

I didn't understand this part ._.

Discovering none, he trudged down the thin aisle that separate the counter from the tables toward an open booth, his shoes making suction-like noises as they tried to glue themselves to the sticky ground. He plopped himself in a booth, the red vinyl seating squeaking underneath him. Surely enough, Wally slid in the seat opposite of Brendan, grabbed hold of the salt shaker and slid it in between his hands across the slippery surface of the laminated menu in front of him. He then stared at the grumpy, white-haired trainer.

Again, very vivid description of the diner =)

Brendan was right; she was beautiful, but not in the same, creepy, stalker-like way his friend thought. She grew up well, and Latios she was not afraid to show it. Curvy and slender, she was what every girl disdained in public but secretly wanted to be in private. He then looked to her left hand to make sure the tabloids he read were true, and sure enough, a golden ring with the diamond the size of – holyyyy. Her fiancé was R-I-C-H.

This part made me laugh very suddenly ^^'
Wally seems to be a little taken aback here...goodness me, what will happen when his brain kicks in ?
Heaven knows...

“It all is pretty greasy and contains the same fat content,” responded Wally as he took grabbed hold of his menu, narrowing his eye as he read it. “So it really doesn't matter.” He received an eyebrow raise from the man sitting across from him. “What?”

“Nothing,” Brendan answered quickly as he looked shiftily to the side.

Game Killer -_-

Well, hair was one of them. His hair was thick, black, gelled up and trimmed finely, the ends barely brushing up against the nape of his neck. A thin goatee, well maintained, was on his chiseled jaw, a jaw full of perfect, white teeth. While not necessarily as tall as Brendan's lean six foot two, he was muscular and more sturdy built. He then revealed his eyes from underneath his pair of dark sunglasses. They were a sparkling blue, somewhat like May's own set of dazzling eyes, but much more narrow and colder.

“I was craving some of Betty's famous apple pie since we're in the Mauville area, darling,” Sean replied, placing his hands on the edge of the table and resting his weight on them. Brendan noticed a silver, diamond-encrusted watch on his left wrist, making him raise an eyebrow. A simple, silver chain complete with dog tags swung back and forth between his open, gray blazer and the air in front of him, and Brendan squinted his eyes, trying to read the engraving on it, but Sean pulled away when a waitress came by holding a pink box in her hands. He took it, pressing it against his finely toned chest.

Even Wally couldn't have immagined a better cliché...

“Maybe you and me can hang out after the contest?”

Brendan nodded. “I'd like that a lot, May.”

“Great! I promise I'm all yours then.” She gave him a quick hug before standing up, resting her hands on her hips, shifting a bit as the waitress came back with their food.

How he loves hearing that...I know I would :)

Bah. Of course he was. May didn't want to forget him. He had to be wrong.

God, he prayed he was wrong.

Let's find out what that reason actually is...
I'll be waiting for something new ^^

P.S. : Your sig rocks, and it's true.
P.S.2 : The server didn't want to let me post a reply with the quotes from your post, so I had to use regular quotes...don't know why...
 

Breezy

Well-Known Member
I'm in a love/hate relationship with this chapter. One minute I'm writing paragraph after paragraph then the next I go and do something else. Icky. Personally, I blame the actual contest appeal I had to write. :D Anyway, I'm not sure how six pages of this chapter is just Wally and Brendan being annoyed with contests. Whatevs. It's a bit longer than I expected, but that's mainly due to dialogue (as always).

I also genre added/swapped this (suspense → friendship) since Brendan and Wally's friendship will probably play a bigger role than the suspense I have planned. That being said, it'll still be suspenseful in terms of plot (and not in the OMG IS HE GONNA BE WITH HER? way either). ;P On a similar note, I also bumped the rating from PG (K+) to PG-13 (T) for the sake of someeee sexual innuendo. No, I don't plan on cussing (besides the “a” word occasionally or “damn”) or making the sexual stuff obvious. Just for safety precaution really.

Enjoy!

...............................................
Friday – May 4th, 2012
...............................................


“... So why am I being dragged somewhere against my will ... again?”

Brendan rolled his eyes as he pocketed his hands to protect them from the cold, nipping wind. “All you do is complain, Wally. Can we try doing something other than complaining? How about singing? Singing would be nice.”

“Fine.” Rolling his eyes, Wally reluctantly obliged Brendan's request. “So whyYyyY am I being drAaAgggeD somewhere aaAgaainssst my wiIiIll ... AGAIN?” He ended dramatically, stopping in his tracks, thrusting one open hand in the air and the other against his chest, his head pointed up and his eyes closed.

“I said sing, not mimic the cries of mating Wailmer.”

A day had passed since Brendan's “date” with May completely flopped (and it was a long, ridiculously boring day as Brendan would add), but before he knew it, Friday was here. A glorious, sunny, cloudless Friday. Trees swayed to an unknown music. The small pond rippled slightly in the light breeze. Taillows twittered. It would be a fine day to spend with May.

Of course that brat Wally had to rain on his parade with his grumbling and cracked voice. No matter. Nothing would bring him down. Absolutely noth–

A couple of chattering little kids brushed past the daydreaming Brendan, knocking into his legs, and he buckled like a domino. Time slowed, and the world was silenced as his face twisted from contentedness to bewilderedness. His arms flailed about before they positioned themselves in front of him, his fingers spread wide and his palms flat. Then life, being that funny, quirky thing, caught up with him and sped up his actions, causing him to fall swiftly and painfully into the hard, grainy road. The hard impact kicked up the dirt, swirling and clouding the air space around Brendan in a fine, brown dust. Although muffled, Wally could distinctly hear Brendan groan in agony.

All right. Kids literally bringing him down didn't count, and he meant figuratively anyway. Besides, kids are smelly. Smelly things don't count.

Pondering how smelly did not equal bringing him down (or whatever the hell he thought), Brendan pushed himself up, wiping off the tiny pebbles that embedded themselves into the palms of his hands. He then brushed the fine dust of his clothes, though it was still noticeable on the dark denim of his jeans, and ran a hand through his thick locks, shaking it free of dirt. “How do I look?” he finally asked after grooming himself up.

“Hmm ...” Wally quickly evaluated his friend, his eyes quickly sweeping over Brendan's tall frame. “Okay,” he answered eventually and plainly after rubbing his chin profoundly. He then gave him the thumb's up, smiling cheekily.

“Okay?” Brendan exclaimed ludicrously, his eyebrows raising. “Just 'okay?' I can't look 'okay' if I'm going out with May. I have to look my best!”

Wally snorted. “Who cares? You're not going on a blind date with her or anything. She already knows you look like crap all the time.”

“Har har.”

With a small eye roll from Brendan and a smug smile from Wally, the two continued down the path toward Verdanturf Town where May's Pokémon Contest was being held, the pebbles crunched underneath their sneakers. Brendan took the time to observe his surrounding. A shimmering pond surrounded by various grass types was to his left while a yard full of playful Pokémon that the Pokémon breeders housed was to his right. It was peaceful picture, yet nervousness began to build in his stomach anyway. Anxious, lip biting, stomach wrenching nervousness. Wally noticed the look of distress on Brendan's face and promptly punched him in the shoulder. The white-haired man yelped and swiftly turned his head toward Wally, glaring daggers.

“What was that for?” Brendan snapped, rubbing his shoulder soothingly.

His friend shrugged, tramping down the small sprouts of crab glass that broke through the hard earth, continuing the path toward the peaceful town. “To get your mind off it. I hear it's a psychological technique. You'll focus on your physical pain instead of whatever you're thinking.”

“Hmm. Good idea. Let me try.” Cracking his knuckles, Brendan swung at an unsuspecting Wally's face and closed fist met cheek in a powerful, almost sickening, collision. Wally stumbled but regained balanced, cursing while rubbing his cheek while a smirking Brendan wiggled his fingers to loosen his joints. “You're right. I do feel better.”

Sooo mature,” muttered Wally, continuing his rubbing, his left eye twitching. He then dropped his hand, his left cheek flushed.

Verdanturf Town, a town both Brendan and Wally were familiar with, was usually a quiet, calm town, but today it buzzed with excitement. People were chatting amongst themselves while Pokémon were playing in the long, soft grass that swayed in the wind. There were balloons, a lot of them, colorfully decorating the street lamps and the skies. Among the tiny but quaint homes was the huge Contest Hall where most of the people and Pokémon gathered. Pushing past the crowds, Brendan and Wally managed to enter the busy and crazy building. Sunlight poured through the tall glass windows, making the rhinestones on the Pokémon's costumes shine brighter.

Now Pokémon Contests, if you could bother listening to his entire ramble on why they were so inhumane and disgusting, were not a thing that Brendan agreed with. Dressing up Pokémon in ridiculous costumes? Pampering them with ribbons and perfumes? Not letting them roam about in a natural, dirty state? It made him physically twitch. So it really was no wonder why he squealed like a pig and hid behind Wally when a Pikachu, its fur touched with silver sparkles and the insides of its cheeks painted with white hearts, bounced toward him, smiling, waving its tail tied with bows happily.

“Shake a can of pennies at it,” he quivered, peering over Wally's shoulder and shuddering again.

Wally gave the side eye and shooed the Pikachu away with a small shift of his leg. “You should probably talk to a therapist about this,” he muttered, brushing past a couple of coordinators to the hallway that lead to the seats.

“Hush, you,” Brendan grumbled back, pushing past the heavy, red velvet curtain.

Not wanting to deal with the large crowds and the awkward moment of hushed whispering and pointing when trying to find seats, Brendan and Wally came early. Luckily, very few people were sitting in their seats (Brendan could only assume most of them were trying to meet the coordinators before the contest), so the two managed to get center seats in the third row. Brendan leaned back and put his hands behind his head to relax while Wally noticed a copy of that day's newspaper in the seat next to him and started to read it.

“Hoenn is such a boring region,” the green-haired one muttered, his eyes scanning the back page. “Johto at least had some crime going on. That or overly heroic people jumping into fires to save babies. Not boring at all. Here though, the biggest story is –” he then flipped the paper toward the front where the headlines took place, “– some update on the space station. Latios, what a boring story. Hoenn is too clean ... Too boring ... Too friendly ... Too boring.”

“Too repetitive,” added Brendan, pulling out a notepad from his pocket and taking out the pencil he usually kept tucked behind his left ear.

“Yeah,” Wally agreed, “and too boring.”

Sighing to himself, Brendan began to keenly examine the stage where a couple of the coordinators were practicing. One was a young girl with a Roselia, its body also decorated with silver sparkles (though Brendan didn't mind too much this time seeing as the duo was far away) and the other was an older man buffing the shell of his Wartortle. Sketching Pokémon and jotting down notes about them was a habit he picked up once he decided to pursue the career of Pokémon researcher, and it allowed him to focus his attention on something other than his thoughts. Thinking about May made Brendan's stomach knot once again.

“Relax,” he heard Wally state above the ruffling of his newspaper. “You don't need to research and observe every time a Pokémon pops out.”

“I am relaxed!” Brendan replied sharply, lightly outlining the Wartortle on his notepad. “I just never really took the time to observe coordinator Pokémon – at least not at a competition anyway. It'll be a good chance to examine a coordinator Pokémon's reactions to their coordinator and their style of battle. That and it gives me an excuse for being here if someone I know catches me here.” With that, Brendan looked back and forth frantically before sliding down a bit in his seat, his head bowed down.

“Really, Brendan, I can help you find a good therapist if you want.”

Brendan didn't bother to reply to the chuckling Wally, so Wally continued to read his newspaper. Flipping through the paper, his eyes narrowed a bit at the next story. “Does it surprise you that it has been eight years since both Archie and Maxie have been seen?” he asked, still scanning the page.

“Not really,” Brendan replied absentmindedly, turning the page of his notepad to draw the girl with her Roselia. “Should it? They were on the lam last time we encountered them, causing them to get into even deeper trouble with the law. I'm more surprised that they haven't been caught yet.”

Wally shrugged. “I suppose. So that means it has been eight years since they tried to ... you know.”

“Kill me and seek revenge after breaking into the Team Aqua base and ruining their plans?” Brendan remarked thoughtfully.

“I thought they were after us both!” protested Wally.

“Pfft. You're not that important.”

Wally stared at Brendan dully before turning his attention toward his paper. “'After having their plans flawed by a group of trainers, Maxie Igneous and Archie Oasiis have gone into hiding,'” he read out loud from the paper. “'It has been eight years since police have last seen the duo.' Hmm ... I wonder what they're doing ...”

Brendan snorted, ripping his eyes away from his sketch to look at Wally. “Why do you care? Don't you remember how they tried to put us against each other?”

“Well, we never were real good friends back then anyway, so it didn't really matter,” Wally meekly replied, turning the page of the newspaper. “And it's not like I care about them ... I'm just curious, that's all. We left them on such an ... unfinished note, you know?”

Brendan only grunted in reply, sitting up straight when people slowly trickled into the auditorium, filling the seats around them. The stage lights flickered for a bit, filtering through a rainbow of colors, before settling on a bright white. Three people (the judges, Brendan assumed) walked toward a table to the side of the stage and sat down. One was the president of the Pokémon Fan Club in Slateport, the other was, of course, a Nurse Joy, and the last, surprising both Brendan and Wally, was a dainty May, her legs crossed and her fingers laced.

“Pfft! If she's not competing then I'm getting the hell out of here!” complained Wally loudly, quickly standing up only to be pulled roughly down by a disgruntled Brendan.

“Sit!” he barked.

Wally pulled his sleeve out of Brendan's grasp and pouted childishly. “You better get me ice cream after this,” he muttered, his nose wrinkled.

“And I'm the immature one?” Brendan murmured back as Wally crossed his arms, his eyebrows furrowing together.

The lights that lit up the audience began to dim, instantly hushing the crowds. Brendan looked around, noticing that hundreds of people filtered in around him without him knowing. While the crowds weren't as huge as the ones at Pokémon stadiums that he had come to know, the fans were still as hyped up and crazy all the same. Many were holding neon posters with the name of their favorite coordinator written in glitter. Some painted their faces to look like Pokémon. Some even went to the extent of dressing up exactly like the coordinators themselves.

It was creepy.

A tap to the shoulder made Brendan turn toward the front where a kid no older than nine asked, “Hey! Didn't you get fifth in the Indigo League last year?”

Annoyance crossed Brendan's face as Wally snickered. “Fourth,” he grumbled.

“Oh. Cool, I guess,” the kid said simply before turning toward the stage as well, not noticing the glower coming from the white-haired trainer.

“One day I'll be important,” Brendan continued to ramble quietly to himself, glaring at the back of the young kid's head. “One day I'll be a professor, and I'll distribute Pokémon to you new trainers, and when you ask for yours I'll say you came fourth and too late. Then I'll laugh. I'll laugh hard.”

“Are you sure you want to push this therapist idea out the window?” whispered Wally.

A narrow beam of light directed itself upon a lone figure on the stage. With a microphone in hand, the figure shook her head, her curly, light brown hair bouncing. “Hello, ladies and gentlemen!” she cried into the microphone while shielding her eyes from the bright lights with her free hand, causing the crowds to stand up and riot. “As your official emcee, I would like to welcome you to Verdanturf's semiannual Pokémon Coordinator Competition!”

Brendan and Wally watched amused and confused as the people in the audience began to simultaneously wave their hands in the air like it were planned. Looking at each other and nodding, both Brendan and Wally stood up at the exact moment everyone decided to sit down.

“Oh.” Brendan scratched his head as everyone looked at the pair of freaks still standing. “... What just happened?”

“Hey, I know that guy,” he heard amongst the hushed whispers. “He got fifth in the Indigo League, I think.”

“Wasn't it sixth?” he heard someone else mutter.

“No, fifth. I'm sure of it.”

Staring dully at the crowd, he sunk back down into his seat, ignoring the chuckling Wally who already sat down and was whispering, “Freak,” to him.

“Anyhoo!” said the announcer, inattentively motioning her hand to the panel of judges. “Please help me welcome our judges for this contest! Of course we have our lovely Nurse Joy from Verdanturf town!” She moved her hand toward the nurse who waved at the cheering crowds. “Also joining us is the president of the Pokémon fan club, Mr. Pokémon!” Again, the announcer stopped to allow the crowds to scream. “And finally, we are honored and privileged to have the two-time winner of Hoenn's own Grand Festival, May!”

The audience screamed themselves into a frenzy, and the high pitched screaming and thunderous stomping and clapping pounded against Brendan's eardrums. He didn't mind though as he was one of the many that stood up, shouting mightily over the screeching teenage girls to his right. He was was then forcefully shoved back down into his seat by an eye rolling Wally when he was the last one hollering and clapping.

“Anyway, we have a lot of coordinators to go through and a lot of appeals to see, so let's get this show on the –”

“Boo! I want to see May perform!” shouted someone in the audience in a high pitched voice.

Brendan sighed; he knew it was Wally's “girly voice.” The green-haired one used it a lot to scare Brendan during his ... “experimenting” with the female gender when he woke up in the morning, especially when this “experimenting” wasn't meant to last past the night.

He digressed though and nudged Wally to shut him up. It didn't work, though.

“Yeah!” continued Wally in his girl-like voice, causing the audience to murmur in agreement. “Let's see this ... um ... contestor –”

“Coordinator,” corrected Brendan in a low voice, sighing again.

“– Coordinator in action!” Wally finished proudly, causing the audience to scream and wave their arms wildly in the air again.

“Oh, I don't know,” said May into her own microphone, fidgeting with it a bit as the crowds cheered her name. “I don't want to hog the spotlight or make the coordinators nervous or anything ...”

“Nonsense, May!” urged the announcer as the spotlight focused on May. “It'll kick off the competition to an awesome start! Come on, everyone! Don't you want to competition to start off with May's remarkable appeals?”

She was answered by an onslaught of screams and stomping.

“Well, I guess I could do something real fast so we don't waste too much time. Though I don't really have anything planned so don't expect anything too dazzling ...” May remarked humbly, standing up and resting the tips of her fingers on the table. She then sighed a bit, licking her lips before nodding to the crowds, giving in.

Plucking a Pokéball from her purse, May gracefully walked around the table, her already slender legs looking longer from the red high heels on her feet. She brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face before throwing the Pokéball into the air, the two colors on the balls blurring together. The creature within burst through in a dazzling show of golden sparkles. With a flutter of her brightly-colored wings and the long antennas on her head waving back and forth like a metronome, a Beautifly took to the stage, her big, blue eyes blinking rapidly, not expecting to be greeted by cheers. She then turned toward her coordinator, confusion apparent on her face, and May only shrugged in return.

“Hmm ...” May rubbed her chin, thinking. “Start things off with Secret Power!”

The Beautifly cried out her name with a flutter to her voice before shifting her glowing antennas to the right side of her head. With a mighty flap of her wings, she thrust her head toward the left, and her antennas quickly followed. The movement caused the earth underneath her flapping wings to shudder before hard rock followed her antennas, forming an archway around the Beautifly. Brendan recognized the move immediately and knew trainers often used it to make makeshift tents out of the earth if they had no camping equipment.

“Okay! Now face the wall of the archway and use Stun Spore!” cried the coordinator.

The Beautifly nodded and turned to her left, facing the solid rock, and beat her wings rapidly again, releasing golden spores. With the help of the breeze produced by the huge butterfly and the archway, the spores began to spiral around and around in a fantastic loop of speckled gold.

“Great!” May cheered as the audience “oohed” at this. “Let's charge up and absorb some light for a Solarbeam!”

Again, the Beautifly cried out her name delicately before closing her big eyes and facing the audience, slowing down the beating of her wings, the speckles of gold from her Stun Spore floating about harmlessly in a daze. They were quickly swept up in the Beautifly's grasp as she absorbed light, her wings and antenna glowing in a bright light. The many colors of her wings began to glow their respective colors while tinted with a shimmery gold from absorbing her Stun Spore, causing the audience to “ooh” once more.

“Now release it!”

With a firm nod, Beautifly, her eyes glowing, gave one final flap of her wings before releasing two twin beams of light from antennas in a mighty cry, the attack breaking through the earth archway and cracking it into pieces. The two beams then met in the middle and merged together into one powerful beam until it disintegrated into nothing except speckled sparkles that slowly drifted and merged with the dust.

A happy May skipped toward the center of the battlefield and let her arm out so her Beautifly could rest on it, and she waved toward the crowd, beaming as the audience cheered her on. The wave of screams was deafening but well worth it. Brendan couldn't help but marvel as well, but not for the appeal but the beauty of its coordinator instead.

He then gagged at his corny thoughts. Ah, well ... It was true though.

The announcer interrupted his thoughts. “With our contest off to an awesome start, let's give it up for our first coordinator!”

It was going to be a long day ...

- - -​

He was right. It was a long day. Scratch that. It was a ridiculously long day. It didn't matter though. The contest was over, and as soon as May was done changing clothes, they could spend the rest of the day together.

Brendan waited outside, leaning against the cold stone of the contest hall. The people had long filed themselves out thirty minutes ago, including a grumbling Wally who was the first one out the doors. Verdanturf regained its quiet, peaceful ambiance, the sweet wind whispering amongst the long grass that danced to its voice. The unusual breeze that swept through Verdanturf made everything move ... living even.

May emerged from behind the glass doors, clad in jeans and a red button up shirt – casual but comfortable. She then swept a hand through her thick locks and walked toward the nonchalant Brendan, grinning.

“Ready to go, B Boy?”

Brendan nodded, smiling fondly at the nickname again before pushing himself onto his feet. “You look nice,” he said plainly but honestly.

“What? This?” May looked down at her clothing as the two walked toward the dirt road that headed toward Mauville. “It's nothing really. Just some clothes I had lying around.”

“Doesn't matter. I still think you look nice.”

May blushed a bit. “Well, thanks. You don't look too shabby yourself.”

“I know,” he replied arrogantly, running a hand through his hair. He then smiled. “I'm kidding of course.”

“No you're not.”

“I know, but I wanted you to think I became more humble.”

“Please, Brendan.” May stood on tippy toe (even though she was still wearing her red pumps) and knocked on Brendan's forehead playfully. “That hard head of yours will never soften. But that's what I like about you, I suppose.” The two stopped in their tracks and looked around. “Anyway, what do you want to do? Want to go eat somewhere or do something?”

Brendan shrugged. The mere fact that he got to spend time alone with May was enough to send him over the moon. He wish he planned ahead though.

The man looked around, noticing a small lemonade stand pushed up to the side of the road (he assumed it was set up there to profit from the huge crowds from the contest) and nudged his head in that direction. “Well, a couple of days ago, if my day went according to plan, I just wanted to sit down somewhere nice and catch up. Nothing big. We can get a lemonade or something and just watch the Pokémon at the breeder's house if you want.”

She nodded. “Sounds nice.”

After moments of hassling with the impatient man working the lemonade stand and fumbling with his change, Brendan walked over toward May who was sitting on the fence that bordered the breeder's home, waving at the baby Azurills that playfully bounced at her feet. He handed her a drink, and she took it gladly, sipping it through the straw. She then twirled the straw it its plastic cup, watching as the lemon sunk below the ice cubes before emerging to the top.

“So where to begin ...” Brendan remarked, leaning against the fence and staring into May's eyes. “Uh ... How are you?”

May laughed a bit. “I'm fine. Thanks. Tell me, Brendan, what have you been up to since we last talked? Er, all those years ago I mean.”

Brendan bit his straw before answering. “Well, as you know, I decided to become a Pokémon researcher, so I've been traveling around a lot while studying Pokémon in their natural habitat. I mean, I always had interest in it, but the dream of becoming Pokémon “master” was so alluring at fifteen. But then the more I traveled, the more I noticed how wild Pokémon reacted to each other, and it intrigued me. I got as up close and personal as I could to them without scaring them off ... Meh. I'm just like my dad. How annoying.”

May snorted, taking another sip to clear her throat. “Were you chased by a wild Poochyena yet?” she asked amusedly.

“Nah,” Brendan answered absentmindedly. “Does being chased by a pack of them count though?”

May rolled her eyes. “You're still a trainer though, right?”

“I suppose you could say that. The older I got, the more ... silly, for lack of a better word, the dream of becoming Pokémon champion seemed. Dunno. I still try to win in the league for the sake of trying, but if I don't win, I'm not going to be hung up over it.”

“Fifth place isn't bad,” May remarked, grinning.

Brendan slapped his forehead. “Ugh. For the last time, I didn't get –”

“I know that you got fourth. I'm just teasin'.” May nudged her disgruntled friend in the shoulder, setting her drink down next to her.

The two basked in the warm sunlight and the peaceful silence until Brendan asked, “What about you? What made you switch from trainer to coordinator?”

May hesitated before replying. “Well, I was always fond of contests, B Boy. I loved the unique styles and routines that coordinators had to come up with and it's such a different style of battling that I absolutely adored. It seemed ... right for me.”

More hesitation. Brendan thought nothing of it though.

“Can I be honest, Brendan?” the girl asked quietly after listening to a baby Taillow chirp and watching its mama swoop into the nest and soothe it by sheltering it with its wing.

“Of course, May.”

“When I left you that one day to go on my own, I realized I couldn't be a trainer anymore. It was too painful. It reminded me of you too much. I don't know ... I guess I wanted to forget it all, start anew. Don't get me wrong; I did miss you. I missed you a whole lot.”

Brendan blinked a bit, surprised. She wanted to forget you. Wally's words kept repeating in his head.

“You missed me? I don't get it, May.” Brendan tore his eyes away from May's and looked at the sky instead, thoughtfulness tracing across his pale face. “I wrote you every week, I called you almost everyday, I even offered to come to wherever you were just to visit ... But the letters stopped coming, you never answered my calls after awhile, you never told me where you were ... I ... Didn't you love me?”

He asked it so simplistically, almost innocently, without any malice or spite, yet May felt a lump form in her throat all the same, and she wiped frustratingly at her eyes to stop the tears. She then scrunched her nose, her emotions running wild in her. Didn't he know he was distorting her already perfect life? Didn't he understand that his return made her toss and turn at night? Didn't he know how nervous he made her?

How dare he. How dare he ask such a stupid question.

“No. You don't have to answer that if you don't want to,” Brendan finally remarked quietly as May's soft lips parted to respond. “What's then is then, and it doesn't really matter now, I suppose. I'm just curious, that's all. It keeps me up at night. Ever since I saw you that one day, I've been thinking of what it would be like if we stayed in touch. Would we be together? Would we hate each other?” He then laughed at his next thought before lifting his cup and taking a sip of his lemonade. “Hell, would I be the one you were engaged to?”

May hesitated before replying, “I guess we'll never know.”

“I guess not.” Brendan smiled, swirling his cup a bit to hear the clatter of ice. His calmness was strange, almost too unnatural even for Brendan's comfort. He supposed concentrating on remaining calm was his only way of not breaking down and melting into a puddle of tears. God was he hurting inside.

“You hurt me.”

What the ...?

He quickly snapped his head toward May's bowed one, confusion written all over his face. “I did – how the – what?”

“Yeah ...” May trailed off, dragging the tip of her pointed heel in a circular motion across the dirt. “With your letters, I mean. You'd always write about your new friends, your new adventures ...” She then huffed. “And then it eventually lead to you writing about your new girls. It hurt. You were mine. No one else's. So I stopped writing; I didn't want to know about your other girls anymore. I stopped answering my Pokénav; I couldn't take hearing some giggly girl in the background. I never told you where I was; I didn't want to see some other girl locking arms with you. I ... I didn't want to believe it.”

Brendan gaped. Was she serious? “May, you were the one that left me. You expected me to wait for you until you were ready to come back to me?”

“That's what good boyfriends do!”

“In what world? Movies? Paintings? Stories?” He scoffed at this, causing May to get angrier. “The truth is I couldn't wait. I couldn't wait for you to be ready because I really had no idea how long it would be. Days turned into weeks ... Weeks into months ... And really, those months turned into years. I can't imagine having the same life as I do now if I waited for you, May. I did love you – really, I did! And I am sorry, but I couldn't do that – waiting I mean. It'd drive me crazy.”

He was like a broken faucet; he couldn't stop pouring his heart out. “And why should have I waited for you? Why should I wait for some girl that selfishly left me because I tried to protect her from something bigger than her? Because I 'didn't understand,' right? Isn't that what you told me when you left? What bull. Goddamn, May, I understood perfectly. I understand that I underestimated you and your strength, and I was wrong in that. So that's why I waited. I waited for you to forgive me. I waited, and I waited, and I waited, but you were just too stubborn to let it go even after I apologized. So I gave up because it seemed like you gave up on me. I was a lost cause to you, wasn't I?”

She said nothing, her eyes swimming with tears, and Brendan, his fists clenched tightly, muttered, “I would have come back the minute you wanted me back, you know. But you never told me to. You didn't even have the heart to keep contact with me. So I moved on. And now ... Latios, May. The minute I think I'm finally okay living without you, you have to reappear in my life and make me remember why I'm so crazy about you.”

May bit her lip. What was she suppose to say?

“You're ... you're terrible!” she finally replied, her heart racing and her cheeks flushed with rage. “Don't you dare pretend what you did to me was ever okay! Fine! I get that you wanted to date someone else as I wondered if I wanted to stay with you or not. I understand that completely, and it would be creepy if you did wait for me all these years. But did you have to rub it in my face about how you were seeing this girl one minute and another girl the next? Did you have to constantly remind me about how well you were doing in your relationships while I was having tennis matches in my head about whether I wanted to forgive you or not? Latias, Brendan! How do you expect me to stay with you or forgive you if you keep dating these other girls? That's just so – ugh! I wasn't the one to move on first; you were! And now ... God, now I'm so frustrated I can't even talk right now!” She hopped off the fence, knocking over her drink, and stomped off toward Mauville. Before she did that though, she fished into her bag and thrust a pair of cream-colored envelopes into Brendan's chest a little too forcefully. “And here! These are my wedding invitations. Give one to Wally.”

Brendan groaned, grabbing the invites before they dropped to the floor and watched May's slender figure form into a black silhouette and then nothing the further she walked away. Even though they fought, he felt better. He was glad he finally told May how he felt all those years ago.

But now what?

- - -​

“Hmm ... You're here early. How was the 'date?'” asked Wally when he heard Brendan enter their room after jiggling the door of their motel room open. He leaned back comfortably in his chair, one hand resting on the keyboard of his sleek, black laptop placed on top of the polished wood table. The white-haired trainer only murmured an inaudible response and trudged in, closing the door with a lethargic push of his foot.

“I ... learned a lot,” he admitted truthfully. Brendan dragged himself toward the other chair near the table, throwing Wally's own invitation for May's wedding toward him, the paper envelope skidding and crashing into the back of Wally's laptop. He then pulled the chair over toward Wally's side of the table to see what he was doing. “What's this?”

“Databases of trainers, breeders, coordinators ... hell, everything really,” answered Wally, scrolling down with one hand while jotting down notes on a sheet of paper with the other. “It's required you update your information every couple of years if you own or work with Pokémon as you know, so I've been kind of curious if Maxie or Archie have been updating there's. Despite being leaders of eco-terrorist groups, they were still trainers.”

Brendan curiously looked at another sheet with Wally's nearly illegible writing. “And did you find anything?”

“Of course not. Nothing recent anyway. The last time either of their profiles have been updated was eight years ago. I also looked up their immediate families, but their profiles haven't been updated in years either.” Wally scratched his head with the back of his pen. “People just don't disappear like that. Anyway.” He clicked out of a browser and restored another one. “This somehow lead to me researching on that Sean guy you're so flustered about.”

This made Brendan sit up a bit. “And?”

“Well, he's no trainer,” he began. “He's not listed in the trainers' database ... or the coordinator one ... or the breeder one ... Any occupation really. I remember May said his father owned a water Pokémon reservoir and that he was going to inherit it, but I looked up at the water Pokémon reservoirs in the Hoenn region and found none owned by the Sidio's. There's something funny about this Sean A. Sidio guy, and not in the cool, clown like way either. Hell, there are tough laws and licenses about owning Pokémon for just recreational use, like a trainer – you and I both know that when you lost your I.D. a few months ago back in Kanto. Imagine running a reservoir where you must care for dozens of Pokémon. Hiding your identity like that is no easy task.”

Brendan pulled out the pencil from behind his ear and started to scribble on the sheet of paper in front of him. “So what do we know about Sean then? He obviously must like water types if he works on a water Pokémon reservoir ... He owns a Pelipper and is pretty tactical in battles if he tried mimicking my Pidgeot's Aerial Ace maneuver. So he must be some sort of trainer instead of coordinator since you don't need to get that tactical in contests.”

“He's rich,” added Wally. “The engagement ring he gave to May was huge.”

“Right. I also noticed he had a pretty fancy watch as well,” Brendan said, jotting this down. “So water types and rich. Being rich usually means you're pretty powerful. So he likes water, is rich, is powerful and is possibly a trainer ... Any ideas?”

Wally wrinkled his nose. “No dice.”

“Same.” Frustrated, Brendan tapped the eraser side of his pencil on the table, staring at the underlined “Sean A. Sidio” he wrote on the paper. He had to know more about Sean. Thoughts racing, Brendan tried to remember Sean's appearance. Black hair, blue eyes, small goatee ... Latios, it all seemed so familiar. But to who? Where had he seen it before?

His eyes then trailed off toward Wally's scribbled cursive where Wally wrote about Archie Oasiis and Maxie Igneous.

Wait.

Chains ... and dog tags ... Sean had them, and so did ...

“This is going to be a huge stretch, but I think I got something,” Brendan stated hurriedly, flipping his pencil over so he could scribble. His eyes darted back and forth between the names, crossing out letters frantically as he did so.

“Brendan, what are you doing?” Wally asked curiously, peering over Brendan's paper.

Brendan didn't respond, too caught up in his thoughts, his heart pounding. That “S” is gone for sure. So is the “I” – both of them. The “A” too, and the second “S”, and finally the “O.” He then smirked; he finally got something on that seemingly perfect fiancé of May's.

“His name, Wally!” Brendan exclaimed excitedly, almost triumphantly. “His name has an anagram of 'Oasiis!' Holy – holy crap, Wally! This guy is related to Archie!”

“Don't jump to conclusions,” argued Wally, grabbing hold of Brendan's paper and observing his work. “It could be pure coincidence.”

Brendan snatched the paper back and looked at the remaining letters that weren't crossed out in Sean's full name, quickly fixing those letters into a proper name. “E ... A ... N ... D ... That could spell 'Dean!' There's no way in hell that this is a coincidence if you can spell a proper name with the remaining letters! It makes perfect sense! I knew Sean ... or Dean or whatever looked a lot like someone I met! He looks like a younger version of Archie!”

Wally rubbed his lips, opening the trainers' database again, typing “Dean Oasiis” in the search box. “It did say Archie had a son on his information ...” He trailed off when a beep was heard when the results of his search was complete. Sure enough, there was one result for a trainer by the name of “Dean Oasiis” who's profile hadn't been updated for eight years. “Fine, fine. You're right. He's related to Archie. So what?”

“So what?” Brendan cried ludicrously. “Wally, this guy is up to no good! He has relations to Team Aqua for crying out loud! If he really is taking over his father's 'business,' he can drag May down with him. We can't let him do that! We gotta figure out what this guy is up to, and why he had to changed his name.”

Wally ripped his eyes away from Brendan's wild red ones, looking toward the floor. “I don't know, Brendan ...”

He gripped the side of his table impatiently, staring at the back of Wally's head, urging him to agree with him with his eyes. But after a few minutes of silence, he gave up. “Fine,” Brendan sighed, releasing the table from his grasp. “Give me your epiphany.”

Wally turned his head toward Brendan and raised an eyebrow. “My what?”

“You know,” Brendan replied, leaning back on the hind legs of the chair. “Your daily reflection and advice for my love life and whatnot. That annoying advice that I never really listen to, but makes the end of the day so much more wholesome. For example, 'Don't bother trying to figure this out, Brendan. She's happy. There's nothing strange about him. Let it be.'”

“What? I wasn't going to say that ...” muttered Wally, his eyes shifting to the side. “Am I really that annoying?”

“Yes, but what were you going to say?”

Wally paused, looking up toward the ceiling. He then stared straight into Brendan's eyes and smirked. “I say we get to the bottom of this and kick some former Team Aqua butt.”

Brendan let out a laugh and high-fived the grinning Wally. “Now that's the Wally I grew to somewhat like.”

-------------------------------------------------​

God, that was such a horrible, made up appeal. Not even sure if that's possible. Oh well. :3 The fighting scene felt good to write though. Lol.

LaTeR dAyZ!
 
Last edited:

Breezy

Well-Known Member
HAO DOES THIS HAVE 500 VIEWS YET TWO REVIEWS?

I see you! I see you, closet reader! (stamps ground)

^^ I jest. Well, no, I really do see you. You dun't has to review though if you don't wanna. ;P

I had soooo many papers due the past few weeks with two more in two weeks plus two speeches and two midterms (good things come in twos?), so since I have a chance to breathe for a few days (sigh), I decided to update. Twee.

Apparently twee is a word. Fwee? There. I can't wait 'til spring break.

Enjoy!

..............................................
Friday – May 4th, 2012 (3:13 P.M.)
...............................................

“So ... What's the plan?”

It was simple questions like the one Wally asked that boggled Brendan's mind. What was he planning to do and how would he be able to pull off whatever plan it was without alerting anyone's attention – or looking like a fool?

“Well,” Wally began for him, “I suppose we do got to figure out if Sean – or Dean – is actually planning something. I'm going to assume so since May said he's working at his father's 'business', but it wouldn't be fair to jump to conclusions. I can research and look around a bit, I suppose.”

“And what do I do?”

“Well, whatever you're doing now with May. It was being stupid, right?” Wally laughed to himself as Brendan glared daggers at him. He abruptly stopped, confused. “I was kidding. You weren't actually stupid, were you? I mean, I guess I shouldn't be surprised.”

“Oh, hush,” Brendan muttered, twiddling his fingers and looking up toward the ceiling. “I wouldn't necessarily say I was stupid. I was just ... honest.”

“... You did the 'why did you leave meeee?' ramble didn't you?”

“Yep,” answered Brendan simply.

“God, I hate that ramble.” Wally sighed. “Whatever. What's done is done, and I suppose it's good you got it out now before you were in too deep.”

Brendan raised an eyebrow, smirking. “In too deep of ... what?”

“Don't think dirty, pervert.”

“I wasn't. Well, now I am, but I wasn't before. You started it. It's your fault.”

“You're thinking dirty because of me?”

“... Dirty thoughts gone.”

“Works like a charm,” Wally said with a satisfied smile, turning back toward his keyboard. He opened up a game of solitaire and played it absentmindedly. “Anyway, I meant in too deep like being too far in with your relationship with May. You just rekindled your friendship with her after all, so maybe she'll be able to get over it faster ...” He trailed off thoughtfully, concentrating on his game.

“I hope,” Brendan replied, sighing after.

Wally then added in a light tone, “Or it could mean that she'll never forgive you since she doesn't care about you that much.”

“Great.”

“Don't give up. Anyway, maybe you should apologize for ... going off on her whenever you see her again. Are you seeing her again?”

Brendan pulled Wally's wedding invitation for May's wedding closer toward him and picked it up, feeling the smooth silk of the envelope. He then carefully slid the invitation out of its holder, whiffing in the sweet scent of lavender. “I'm not sure. Hunting her down to talk would probably get her madder, don't you think?” His eyes scanned over the gold lettering of the invitation, his finger twirling around the lace ribbon that decorated the paper.

“Probably.” Wally nodded, starting another game of solitaire on the laptop, muttering something about not getting aces in the first go. “Eh, I'm sure if you stick around town, you're bound to run into her. Then you can apologize, and you'll laugh and then she'll laugh, and everything will be ... swell ...” He trailed off again, opening a game of minesweeper after he got bored of solitaire. “Anyway, once you do find her and she forgives you – hopefully – I think you should ... How do I put this? Have her ... pursue you again.”

“You want me to ... woo her actually?” asked Brendan in disbelief, dropping the invitation. “After all that crap you gave me? 'Brendan, leave her alone! Brendan, go after someone else! Brendan, I want you to be alone forever!' Does not compute, Wally, does not compute.”

Wally rolled his eyes, shutting down his computer and clicking it shut. “Well, this guy is kind of lying to her,” he muttered, tapping his fingers on the desk. “He's using another name for a reason even if it is only to hide his identity as the heir of Team Aqua. Good husbands-to-be don't do that.”

“But what about that 'don't steal a girl from the guy she's happy with' rant? You were a strong believer in that.”

“I know, I know.” Another eye roll from the green-haired trainer. “You just want me to eat my words, don't you?”

Brendan nodded, looking awfully smug.

“Well I'm not, so you can wipe that smug look off your face.” Wally watched amusedly as Brendan's smug smile vanished and was replaced with a twisted frown of annoyance. “I still think I'm right, and I still think it's bad, and stupid, to steal some happily engaged girl. In this case though – well, I mean he is lying – yet she doesn't – ugh, then again ... Eh, okay, fine. I'll take it back. For this case. Only this case.”

Brendan nodded again happily. “I knew you'd see it my way eventually.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Wally waved it off with a motion of his hand. “Besides ... what word did you use? Woo? God, you're old. Besides 'wooing' May, try getting some more information on Sean – Dean, but call him Sean around her – from her. Like where he works, what he does for a living, and so on. If you can figure that out, we can check out that area and see if Team Aqua is alive and kicking.” He then stood up, stretching before checking the clock on the wall. “Anyway, I'm going to the new gym in Verdanturf to see how I want to decorate it then have dinner with my cousin. Want to come?”

Brendan slid May's wedding invitation off the table again and stood up, walking toward his bed and flopping onto his back, kicking off his shoes. “Nah,” he finally answered, lifting his arms up so he could read over the gold print again. “I need to think how I'm going to pull this off, and that contest from earlier made me sleepy so I think I'm going to nap for a bit. I'll meet you for dinner though. Wanda's right?”

Wally carefully placed his laptop inside his backpack and then swung the backpack around his shoulder, staring at Brendan's sprawled out position with disdain. “Of course you must take advantage of a free dinner.”

“Paying for your lunch a couple of days ago wasn't exactly cheap.”

“Says the guy that has nothing to do with his fifth place winnings from the Indigo League. Or so he states.”

“FOURTH! DAMMIT, IT WAS FOURTH!”

Wally chucked and headed toward the door, opening it and closing it with a small slam, leaving behind a fuming Brendan. Managing to calm down his flustered self, Brendan raised the invitation over his head, contemplating. This ... getting with May idea ... It was serious now – not that he wasn't serious before or anything. He hoped that he would be able to get with May before he learned about Sean's true identity, and sure he'd be heartbroken if he didn't, but he'd eventually get over it. But now he had to win back May for the sake of, well, May.

It felt like taboo though – actually, he was sure it was taboo – about what he was doing. Wally's words about leaving May and Sean alone kept sinking deeper and deeper and contorting his thoughts.

This is bad. What you're going to do is bad, he thought, closing his eyes and dropping the invitation on the bed. No. You have to do this. For May. It's not all about you.

“She wanted to forget you,” he muttered out loud, his eyes still closed. Of all the advice and words Wally had told him over the past few years – and there were a lot – those five words were the most memorable ... and painful. “Is it even worth it? I don't even think she forgave me for being dumb all those years ago.” He sat up, scratching his head. “What are you saying, Brendan? Of course it is. Y-you like her still – love maybe. I think. Ugh.”

As he fell backward again, the springs of the bed making him bounce around a bit, he began to think. Truth be told, he never really had any serious girlfriends besides May, and even then, the one with May only lasted a couple of months. And he was fifteen. Do fifteen year olds really fall in love? He sure it was possible.

That was besides the point though. He wasn't even sure how to kick off this entire plan. He certainly couldn't jump into it and profess her love for her; that would scare her away. He couldn't be too slow either otherwise it'd be too late.

Brendan pulled out his pokénav and checked the date. He had twenty seven days. Twenty seven days to figure out what that Sean guy was up to. Twenty seven days, as corny as it sounded, to win back May's heart.

It was going to be a long month.

..............................................
Sunday – May 6th, 2012
...............................................


“... We can fish?”

“No.”

“We can go to the casino?”

“No.”

“We can juggle fruit as street performers?”

“Wha – no!” Frustrated, Brendan slapped his forehead and groaned in annoyance as his friend looked sheepishly forward. “Sunday afternoons are nice and peaceful and all, but latios they are boring.”

“Only because you make them boring,” muttered Wally as he put his hands behind his head and leaned back a bit to relax on the hard, wooden bench the two sat upon in Mauville's bustling square. Rays of sunlight danced across his face. “I gave plenty of suggestions, but you rejected them all. So we're going to sit here and reflect, dammit.”

“Shouldn't you be, like, you know, researching? Like you said you would?” suggested Brendan dully, watching a couple holding hands walk by. A small smile tugged at his lips for a bit but boredom dragged him down again. “Who knows how long it is going to take to find stuff on Dean.”

“Sean,” Wally corrected. “And I could, but eh. It's Sunday. No one works on Sunday.” A couple of chirping taillow carefully hopped their way toward the duo on the bench, their heads cocked to the side, and Wally picked up the crust of the sandwich he placed next to him, ripping it into pieces and feeding it to the birds. “I need you to initiate it anyway. You got to talk to May again for this to work, Brendan, otherwise I'm going to be wandering in the dark about where to look for Sean. You got to ask her about him and then relay that information to me.”

“Lazy.”

Wally halfheartedly threw the remains of the crust toward the taillow. “It's true. Though yeah, lazy indeed.”

Brendan stood up abruptly, sending the taillow flying in alarm and slapped his jeans, brushing off dirt. “Well, that's enough of that,” he remarked, looking up toward the sky dotted with puffy white clouds. The sun was heading toward the west near the peak of Verdanturf's rolling green hills – sunset was just around the corner. “Let's go visit Wattson or something, Wally. Can't stand sitting around here for so – ”

A hurried man brushed past Brendan, knocking into his shoulder and interrupting him. Reacting quickly, Brendan snapped his head to the left, his eyes narrowing into a glare but stopped when he noticed the man bowing profusely in apology.

“I'm so sorry,” said the man, bowing once more before standing up straight. With a quick sweep up and down, Brendan noticed the man was immaculate, the sleeves of his dark jacket unwrinkled and his dark slacks creased finely. He was balding yet the man had no wrinkles or other obvious signs of aging. “I'm in a rush to find some decent pokémon trainers, but apparently all the trainers around here are rookies.”

“Why?” asked Brendan as Wally got up and stood next to him, his arms crossed.

“A few zigzagoon have been pestering my missus' home, and I can't seem to shoo them away myself. You see, I'm a butler in one of the Verdanturf Hills homes, so I was sent here in hopes of finding some trainer with decent pokémon to scare those damn zigzagoon away, but alas ...” He trailed off, noticing the full set of pokéballs clipped on both Brendan and Wally's belts. “Say, you two wouldn't happen to be trainers?”

“I suppose,” Brendan answered. Wally gave him the side eye, obviously not wanting to help the man.

“Please, you must help me then,” the butler pleaded, clasping his hands together. “Everyone here seems to be rookie trainers and incapable of dealing with such a huge ... infestation. You're my last hope.”

“Really?” muttered Wally. “We're really the last trainers that have more than three gym badges here?”

The butler nodded. “We'll pay you even!”

Wally paced back and forth, his hands behind his head. He then stopped, looking at the humble butler. “I don't know, sir. Living in Verdanturf Town for quite some time has taught me never, and I mean never, enter that snobbish, secluded little piece of snob land,” he paused and promptly shrugged as Brendan looked at him oddly, “that is Verdanturf Hills. And why should we help some snobby rich snobs take care of something so small as a zigzagoon anyway?”

“We really need to get you a word-of-the-day calendar again, Wally,” muttered Brendan.

“That's besides the point. And I stand my my point whatever that point was when I mentioned said point a few seconds ago.”

“We'll pay,” the butler repeated, “in cash.”

Wally looked at the man with wide eyes. “Then what are we waiting around here for?” he asked cheerfully, grabbing hold of Brendan's shirt sleeve and dragging him backward toward Verdanturf. “Let's go wrangle us some zigzagoons!”

“How easily persuadable your point is,” remarked Brendan with a sigh, pulling his shirt sleeve out of Wally's grip and turning around so he could walk forward, the butler quickly following behind. Concrete turned into dust and dust into grass as the three entered Verdanturf Town.

Brendan never noticed the huge, steely-silver gates that bordered several smaller hills or if he did, he never cared. Yet past the small, quaint homes and sweeping grass was a winding asphalt road that lead toward the gate, and past that gate were luxurious homes, wide as they were tall. They were dotted along the hill up ahead, their tall, glass windows gleaming in the sunlight, each home complete with a well-kept rose garden and white marble fountain with pictures of various water pokémon carved into it. A beeping to his right caught his attention, and he turned his head, noticing the butler inputting a code to open the gate. The gate shuddered to life, creaking on its metal hinges before swinging forward, allowing the three to enter.

“Bah, this is why I hate these snobs,” murmured Wally as the three began their ascent up the hill toward the mansions. “Separating themselves from the rest of the Verdanturf community – and making everyone walk up a steep incline.”

“God, do you need chocolate or something?” replied a frustrated Brendan, slapping his forehead and turning his head to look at Wally. “Why are you so ... so ... complainy today?”

“Is that even a word?”

“At least I make up my own words instead of repeating the same five like someone I know.”

“Well, you have smelly feet. I smelled them.”

“... Why?”

“Okay, okay.” The butler from behind the bickering duo clasped both hands on each of their shoulders to stop their fight. “When we both get to the mansion, I'll get you both chocolate.”

“Sweet. I hoped that would work,” said Wally with a smile as the butler guided them toward the end of the road where a mansion with a shiny white paint job stood. Rows of finely trimmed shrubs bordered the outside of the house below the windows and in front of each individual shrub was its own rose bush, their red roses dappled with drops of water. The black asphalt road met the curved concrete driveway of the mansion, leading toward the tall double doors. The three walked up the curved path toward the door, and the butler grabbed hold of the polished gold doorknobs and pushed the door open, the cool breath of the air conditioned house greeting them. The butler urged the two men in with a motion of his hand.

Brendan almost felt bad that his muddy sneakers would be dirtying the plush white carpet of the home, but that regret soon vanished when he realized that whoever owned this house had enough money and then some to carpet every single house in Verdanturf anyway. The hallway, long but wide, had various paintings of pokémon on its white walls, signed by some of Hoenn's best artists. There was a wooden staircase, finely polished and carpeted with a red ornate rug, that lead toward the second floor, a floor with many rooms as far as Brendan could see. The butler lead them down the hallway as he began to talk.

“Now the zigzagoon,” he began as Wally and Brendan looked around with wide eyes, “are scattered around the house, though they should be relatively close together – I don't think I've seen them stray too far apart. They're not necessarily hard to battle, of course, but there's so many it's hard to control them all. Now if you come here ...”

The butler's voice trailed off. Well, rather it was Brendan could not hear him as he stopped in an archway that lead to some sort of living room where a group of woman were gathered, sipping tea and nibbling on finger food. He leaned against the archway nonchalantly, crossing his arms and smirking a bit, watching the backs of the unaware women. His eye caught the weary, almost frustrated, eye of Wally's who turned around a bit, noticing his friend had stopped walking, and he smirked wider as his friend rolled his eyes as he and the butler continued forward.

“Oh, open this one next, May!” said a lady, putting down her teacup and saucer on the glass table in front of her and picking up a neatly wrapped pink present tied with a white silk ribbon.

Brendan watched as May, sitting across from the lady handing her the gift, took the gift in her delicate hands and pulled on the ribbon, untying it. She then turned the gift on its side and carefully unloosened the tape, shifting the gift left and right to pull off the wrapping paper in a neat manner. Confusion darted over her eyes.

“A toaster?” she remarked questionably, looking at the picture on the box. She moved it a bit, hearing the toaster thunk against its cardboard box. “Why a toaster?”

“Don't all newlyweds get toasters or something?” replied the lady that handed her the gift with a shrug. “I thought it would be appropriate.”

“Please, Laura,” replied another lady sitting next to the puzzled May on the stiff looking couch. “Like this lady is going to ever cook for herself once she marries Sean. He already treats her like a queen – imagine what it's going to be like when they're married, for latias' sake.”

“Oh, I'm sure I'll use it,” muttered May, setting down the toaster next to her other opened presents. “I'm not going to be waited on hand and foot.”

The four women sitting with May all let out a small laugh until one of them turned her head toward Brendan leaning in the archway. “Speaking of which,” she said, “I think one of your gardeners needs to talk to you, May.”

He was offended as the women turned toward Brendan, eyes looking at him in both question and disdain. He looked down at his appearance. Since he hadn't planned on doing anything important, he dressed pretty plainly, clad in nothing but a loose black t-shirt adorned with the Indigo League symbol on the back and wrinkly denim shorts. He gave them a slight eye roll, causing the women to gasp in shock, before turning his eyes toward May, a pretty, little thing wearing a white springtime dress, a hat resting upon her soft, brown hair and cocked over her eyes a bit.

May got up and straightened out her dress, looking at Brendan in bewilderment. “That's not my gardener,” she muttered, walking forward toward him, shifting her head toward the side. “That's my ... old friend. Excuse me for a minute, ladies.” Stepping over gifts awkwardly since she was wearing a pair of sandals, she made her way toward the archway and grabbed Brendan by the forearm, dragging him into the hallway.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed, releasing Brendan's arm.

“Your butler – I'm going to get back to that by the way – was having trouble containing some zigzagoon family that is roaming around here, so he asked for Wally's and my help,” answered Brendan simply, crossing his arms and smirking a bit. “I didn't know that you would be here though, honest.”

“So why aren't you doing your job?” she asked with a huff.

“Well, I saw a pretty lady sitting in the living room and got distracted,” he replied in the same simple tone. “Besides, you weren't returning my phone calls, and I think we need to talk about last Friday.”

“What's there to talk about? You were a jerk and that's that,” May remarked haughtily. She peeked her head back into the living room where the four ladies were sipping tea and sighed, giving in. “All right. We'll talk seeing as I'm not in the mood to deal with those ladies.” She grabbed Brendan by the forearm again and dragged him toward another room across the hall, a room basked in warm daylight from the spotless windows and two huge armchairs. Behind the armchairs were bookcases that reached the ceiling, each shelf stuffed with thick books. May kicked off her sandals and threw her hat off her head, walking over toward one of the armchairs and plopping herself into it.

“Close the door, will you?” she said, running a hand through her hair, making it more loose and wild. Brendan obliged and closed the door behind him, walking across the thick, white carpet and sitting in the armchair next to May, sinking into the soft exterior and gripping the armrests, running his thumb across the felt. He watched as May grabbed hold of the remote control that sat on the small coffee table between the two armchairs, pointing it at the flat screen ahead, turning it on.

“Talk,” she demanded, not taking her eyes away from the television.

Brendan was taken aback at the sudden demand and licked his lips. “Well, I wanted to apologize.”

“For ...?”

“For ... breaking down on you like that. You didn't deserve to be treated in such a way, and I'm sorry if I hurt or offended you.”

May nodded firmly, still watching the television playing a sitcom. “Apology accepted, Brendan. I'm glad you see how you were wrong about what you said.”

Brendan blinked and shook his head. “I'm not apologizing about what I said, May, but the way I said it.”

May huffed in annoyance again, crossing her arms and folding her legs underneath her body, picking up the remote to channel surf.

“Listen,” he pleaded. “I get why you didn't really get what I was saying Friday because I said it in such a rushed and almost offensive way, but when you get to the heart of it, you really did hurt me, May.” He noticed May's eyes slowly creep toward his. “I just wanted to be friends at least all those years ago, and it really hurt when you stopped trying to contact me without giving me a reason why. And I know; I hurt you, too, by dating other girls when you were trying to figure out if we stood a chance as a couple. But that's in the past, and this is now. I'm not saying we forget about it, of course, but I would like to move on. I'd like to be friends again.”

May didn't respond for a bit, biting her lip. “Nothing more?” she finally asked, turning in toward Brendan, gripping the arm of her chair.

Brendan raised an eyebrow. “Do you want more?”

“Well, no. I just want to make sure you know that I'm not looking for a relationship with you and that I'm happily engaged.”

“I know. Likewise, I'm not going to lie and say that I'm not attracted to you. Far from it, in fact. I know there's chemistry between us still.” Brendan held up a hand to stop May's protest. “I'm not going to try and 'steal' you away, if that's what you're worried about. I know you're not free, and I know you're happy with Sean, and as long as you're happy, that's all that matters. I'm not going to hide how I feel though. Our lack of communication was what caused this conversation in the first place, and I want to avoid doing that again.”

So he lied. Kind of. “Steal” was such an ugly word. Persuaded sounded so much better. Oh, sweet connotation.

A look of thoughtfulness crossed May's face. “And how do you feel about me?” she asked curiously.

Brendan smiled a bit, sat up and turned toward her, leaning in her direction. Gently licking his lips, he leaned forward even more until his lips were right next to her ear. “I think you already know,” he whispered almost seductively.

Brendan's hot breath pricked up the skin on May's neck, a swarm of butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Nervousness. Uneasiness.

Happiness?

No. No, she wasn't falling for this twit again. Anyone would get nervous having someone in their personal space. But she felt so ... happy. And giddy. And giggly. And confused.

And ... what was going on?

Dammit, May
, she thought in her head, biting her lower lip. You're getting married soon. Y-you can't be thinking of some other guy now. That's just wrong!

Brendan only gave her a cocky little grin and leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers together and watching the television, noticing the flushness that crept onto May's face but not commenting on it. It took him awhile to hook May in, but he finally successfully charmed her. It could only go uphill from here ... he hoped.

- - -​

“Damn you, Brendan,” Wally cussed, crawling underneath a table and swiping in front of him, trying to grab at a zigzagoon's tail. The zigzagoon merely dodged by jumping up, causing the green-haired trainer to miss and fall awkwardly on his arm. Groaning in pain, Wally attempted to crawl backward back into open space, hitting his head against the bottom of the table as he tried to stand up. He rubbed his head, his eyes twitching. “Damn you again, Brendan.”

Once his dizzied vision came back into focus, Wally's eyes explored the dimly lit room, hunting for his prey. A tap to his shoulder caught his attention, so he turned around, noticing his dull-eyed gardevoir holding the squirming and biting zigzagoon by its tail.

“Good one, Gardevoir,” Wally congratulated, plucking an empty pokéball from his backpack and holding the ball to the wriggling zigzagoon's body. The ball opened, causing the zigzagoon to vanish in a beam of red light. Wally felt the ball shake and quiver in his hand until it stopped shaking. With a slight sigh, he minimized the ball and pocketed it before pushing the black leather chair he moved out of the way back into place. “Well, that's the sixth zigzagoon today. How long have we been at this?”

The gardevoir merely shrugged and pointed at the clock on the wall. Wally squinted his eyes to focus in on it since it got dark pretty fast. “Ugh, almost two hours,” he muttered, throwing his hands behind his head, sighing again. “And what the hell am I suppose to do with all these zigzagoon anyway?”

Gardevoir murmured something in a musical tone, making Wally nod.

“Yeah, I suppose I could release them later.” The trainer shivered a bit, walking over toward the blind-covered windows and prying a few apart to look outside. Twilight settled over the sleepy town, darkness blanketing across the quaint homes ahead. The golden glow that streamed out the windows of each house was comforting though, beacons toward something welcoming. Playtime was long over, and Wally could hear the crickets coming out to sing their nighttime melody.

“That butler said they were six he counted, right?” he asked more to himself than the gardevoir standing behind him.

Gardevoir turned around from the bookshelf she was observing and murmured another singsong response.

“Right. I guess we better leave then. Thanks for all the help, Gardevoir.” And with that, Wally pulled out his faithful pokémon's pokéball and pressed the button in the middle, returning her in a beam of light. He hooked it back on his belt and was about to step forward when something grabbed at his foot and held it tight. Confused, he looked down, noticing a seventh zigzagoon gnawing at his shoelaces.

“Oh ... kay,” said Wally slowly, lifting his foot a bit to shake the rebel zigzagoon off. The creature stuck fast though, growling a bit, though it sounded more playful than angry. Again, Wally jerked his foot around until the zigzagoon flew off, colliding with the desk and sending papers flying and scattering all across the white carpet. The crash didn't seem to faze the raccoon-like creature, for he merely hopped back onto his feet and started jumping in place.

It was times like these where Wally hated his friend.

“Stupid Brendan and his stupid inability to juggle stupid fruit with me, thus leading me to this stupid situation,” he grumbled. “Meh, I really do need to crack open a dictionary one of these days ...” Walking over toward the desk, Wally dropped to his knees to pick up the papers and restore them to their proper place. They were pretty boring sheets to read – just bills really as far as he could see, so Wally paid little attention to them, grabbing hold of all of them and stacking them into a neat pile. He then got up, placing them on the polished table. Another nudge to his foot caught his attention, and he looked down, noticing the wide eyed zigzagoon holding a piece of paper in his mouth.

“Thanks, pal,” remarked Wally with a smile, bending over a bit to obtain the paper. About to set it with the rest of the stack, something unusual flashed across his eye. He took a second look and sure enough it was there. Although it was dim and the striped moonlight from the blind-bound windows barely let moonlight in, Wally could see the paper he was holding bearing the Aqua crest. The rest of the font was too small for him to read in the dim light though.

“Interesting,” he muttered as the zigzagoon hopped on the table and nudged at his hand. Wally absentmindedly scratched him behind the ear, making him growl delightfully from the back of his throat.

“Mr. Wood?” A voice from the door made Wally panic, but he kept his cool and turned around, hiding the paper behind his back. It was the butler. “How are you doing finding all those zigzagoon?” he asked, not crossing the threshold.

“Um. Fine, thanks,” replied Wally. He nudged his head toward his right, motioning toward the zigzagoon he was still petting. “I think this is the last one, actually. I'll be out of here in a bit; this last one caused quite a mess, so I've been busy tiding up.”

“Please hurry then, Mr. Wood. Master Sidio doesn't like it when anyone enters his study,” said the butler with a nod before leaving again.

“I can see why,” Wally murmured to himself when he was sure the butler was out of earshot, pulling the paper around to his front, his eyes narrowing. He swung his backpack around and carefully put the paper into his backpack to read later. He then looked toward the zigzagoon playfully nipping at one of his fingers. “And what about you? What do I do with you?”

The zigzagoon merely blinked his shiny brown eyes and hopped into Wally's free arms, pawing his chest and then licking his cheek.

“Fine, fine. You can come with me,” said Wally with an eye roll, though a small smile crossed his face, scratching the zigzagoon behind the ear again. He walked toward the door, stopping underneath the doorway and turned around, examining the study for one final time before exiting.

- - -​

“This is Sean's vacation house?” said Brendan in awe, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped. “This place is HUGE!”

May simply smiled. “Yeah, he bought it since I spend a lot of time here for contests. His main house is in Lilycove though. That's where his work is.”

“Lilycove, huh?” remarked Brendan, picking up some popcorn in the bowl settled on the table between them and throwing them up in the air, successfully catching them all in his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully before swallowing. “He's in Lilycove on business right now, right? When will he be back?”

May nodded, frowning. “The twenty-seventh,” she answered sadly.

“Four days before your wedding? He has to be in Lilycove for that long?”

“He took off a lot of time already, helping me prepare for last Friday's contest. He had to go back eventually. He had more work to do than he thought.” The girl sighed, picking up her drink and taking a sip of it before setting it back down. She turned her head a bit, looking outside toward the window. “Brendan, how long have we been in here?”

“Um ...” Brendan pulled out his pokénav and checked the time. “About two hours. Crap, May, didn't you have your friends over?”

May snorted. “They aren't my friends, just neighbors. They threw me that 'bridal shower' for some reason. I mean, don't get me wrong, I appreciate it and all, but I think they were hoping to see Sean instead. They all looked disappointed when I told them he left today to go back to Lilycove.” She blew up the bangs that teased her forehead. “Either way, I'm pretty sure they left by now.” She then jokingly said, “Why? Want to leave?”

Brendan quickly shook his head. “Of course not. I just knew I came in when you were busy, so ...”

May waved it off with a flick of her hand. “Don't worry about it, B Boy. In fact, I'm glad you came in and took me away.” She winked, smiling again. “It is getting late though. Do you have plans this evening?”

The white-haired trainer shook his head.

“Then I'd love for you to stay for dinner. I think it should be ready soon. You can invite Wally over if you want.”

“Wally – oh, crap! Wally! I totally forgot about him!” Brendan quickly flipped over the cover of his pokénav and started to dial his number, panic in his ruby eyes. “I was suppose to help him with those zigzagoon. He's pissed, I bet.”

May got up from her seat, stretching her legs and putting her sandals back on. She patted Brendan on the arm. “Oh, I'm sure he's fine. Mind if I step out to check on the cooks real fast? I need to check if they made enough for two extra guests.”

Brendan nodded again amongst the ringing of his pokénav. “Go for it.”

May strode toward the door, fumbling with the doorknob before opening it, walking into the golden lit hallway. The pokénav rang for a few more times before the disgruntled Wally picked up, annoyance apparent in his bright green eyes.

The green-haired trainer merely stared at the innocently smiling Brendan for a few seconds. “Well?” Wally finally murmured, the camera on his pokénav shaking a bit. Brendan assumed he was walking.

“Well ... what?” Brendan replied sheepishly.

“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“I'm ... sorry?”

“You know how annoying chasing all those stupid zigzagoon were –” A slight disturbance interrupted Wally mid sentence. Brendan noticed the head of a zigzagoon pop into view before going back down. “No, not you, Chase. I meant the others. Anyway, you know how annoying chasing all those zigzagoon were? Let me tell you: It was very, very annoying. I'm going to have bruises forming everywhere! And I'm not sharing the money with you.”

“I figure. I wasn't going to ask about that anyway. I am sorry though. I saw May and got distracted.”

“Yeah, just a little.” Wally rolled his eyes, huffing as he walked. “You better have figured stuff out about Sean if you spent more than two hours talking with her.”

Brendan looked around quickly, making no one was outside the hallway, his eyes wide. “You're lucky that May stepped out of the room. Anyway, he's gone until the twenty-seventh.”

“That's good. That'll give you plenty of time to do the dirty deed.”

“It's not dirty. It's just ... bad.”

“Whatever makes you feel better, Brendan. Anything else?”

“He works in Lilycove. He bought a home here since May spends a lot of time here for the Slateport and Verdanturf contests. They both live in Lilycove.”

“Makes sense. Lilycove was near one of Team Aqua's bases all those years ago, remember? Speaking of which, I found a paper with the Team Aqua emblem on it. I took it but I didn't read it yet. I was going to do that when I got back to the motel. Maybe we should check out that old Aqua base tomorrow.”

Brendan shook his head. “Can't – not during the day anyway. May and I got a date tomorrow.”

Wally smirked a bit. “A date huh? And either way, I can't go tomorrow either I realized – I have some gym leader meeting tomorrow. Something about initiation or something.”

“Anyway, where are you?”

Brendan watched as Wally looked around. “I just left the Verdanturf Hills area, and now I'm heading toward Mauville. Why?”

“May invited us both for dinner.” He smirked as he watched Wally quickly turn around and head toward Sean's house again. “I love how you'll do anything for free food. Or money.”

“Not everything.” Wally looked toward the side shiftily. “I'll see you there in a bit.”

“Okay. Bye.” Brendan hung up the call and pocketed his pokénav as soon as May entered the room.

“Everything okay between you two?” she asked, taking her seat again, her eyes resting on the television. She noticed Brendan nod from the corner of her eye. “Good. Dinner should be ready in twenty minutes or so.” She then turned toward Brendan, causing Brendan to turn toward her as well. “I'm excited for tomorrow. I'm not sure why, but I am.”

“Yes, I'm sure pokédoll shopping gets every girl's panties in a twist,” he replied, smirking.

“Brendan!” May exclaimed, shocked.

“What? I could have said a wholeeee lot worst.”

“It wouldn't surprise me. Besides, aren't you excited too?”

He hesitated before responding. “I'm always happy to escort a pretty lady,” remarked Brendan humbly but truthfully.

A blush crept onto May's face. “You really need to stop lying. You don't need to flatter me all the time.”

“Who said I was lying? And who said I was trying to?”

May merely smiled, picking up the remote control and changing the channel from one sitcom to another, the laugh track from the show resounding throughout the room. “Brendan, I will admit I was a little skeptical about us becoming friends again, but after today, I realized that I've missed out on something great.”

“Don't be so humble, May. I'm amazing.”

She let out a small laugh. “I'm serious.”

“... So am I.”

“B Boy.” May laughed a little louder, rolling her eyes. “I'm glad you found me again. Well, I'm glad my bandanna got loose and you happened to be the one that caught it. I'm sure we'll be the best of friends again. Just like the old days.”

Brendan smiled warmly back, thoughts clouding his head. But one thought rung as clear as a bell.

Baby, we'll be much more than that.

-------------------------------------------------​

I got tired near the end. Lulz.

LaTeR dAyZ!
 
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PokemonMasterRazir

Blastoise in suits.
I loved this chapter. Shippy , yes. The last line was so corny it was adorable.

“... You did the 'why did you leave meeee?' ramble didn't you?”
Wally is awesome in these.
 

Gazmof

Zephyr Trainer
Wow. This is a great example of an awesome but undiscovered fic. It's a real shame that you haven't had more reviews, because this is the best Pokemon fic I've read in a long, long time. I'm not even sure where to start.

First of all, your description of the world and characters and settings just blows me away. It's like you fit in exactly the right amount of detail without boring the reader, but without making them scratch their heads as to exactly what is going on. Every sentence draws up a picture in my mind of it, like you're writing an episode of the anime. Your world is so rich and full of character - I particularly love the subtle details you added, like the people at the diner, the newspapers that Wally reads, the random Pokemon roaming the streets, and most of all that awesome backstory. It feels so refreshing to read a fic where the characters aren't just fresh off the page and actually have something to them - like Brendan's fifth, uh, fourth-place ranking in the Kanto League.

Secondly, I know this is a sequel to a couple of other related fics you've written, but it doesn't feel alien to me at all (I haven't read them, but I don't feel like I need to be clued in, as much as I'd love to after reading this). Everything fits really well and I had no problems with picking it up and immediately understanding the characters and their history with one another (though May and Brendan's big falling out eludes me, but I get the feeling you did this more for dramatic effect rather than just hoping people already read about it from before).

And finally (there's so much praise I could add about this fic, but I'd be typing this for days, so I won't) there's your characters, who are just perfect in every way. I love Brendan's arrogant, yet still loveable nature. It's like he's the jackass whose company you just can't help but enjoy. As for Wally... He's a smartass, which I would have never imagined from playing the games, yet you make it suit him so well, and I can totally see how he would have evolved from that shy little kid into what he is now in your fic.

Oh, another thing (yeah yeah) is just the fact that there hasn't been one single chapter that hasn't made me laugh, and I'm constantly feeling like I have to finish reading it, because I need to know what happens, which is clearly the sign of a great writer. Brendan and Wally are the coolest comedy duo in history, though I'm gonna start to feel bad for Wally if he has to be the third wheel between Brendan and May when things start to heat up.

I really enjoyed how you wrote Brendan's thoughts on May, too: cute and honest to a fault.

What more can I say but to keep up the great work? Do you have a PM list or anything so that I can be kept informed of updates? Either way, you've got yourself a dedicated reader here and consider yourself nominated for the Shipping Oscars - this story more than deserves it.
 

Breezy

Well-Known Member
Amg, reviews. :eek:
I loved this chapter. Shippy , yes. The last line was so corny it was adorable.
Yeah, I used this story to channel my inner corniness. :3 Thanks for the review!

I am very flattered by your review, and I'm really glad you're enjoying the story, Gazmof. :D Yeah, unfortunately if you didn't read the prequels, Wally does seem OOC, but it's good to know that it fits him. :3 I don't think I would enjoy his character as much if he weren't just a little bit of a smartass lol.

though May and Brendan's big falling out eludes me, but I get the feeling you did this more for dramatic effect rather than just hoping people already read about it from before
To sum up what happened in the prequel, the trio tackled Team Magma (or something - I know my past stories so well, haha) and May got really irritated that she was always thought of as the "damsel of distress" character, so she left to prove herself. As for the super awesome fight they had in chapter three, yeah, I just wanted to be dramatic. :3 I always wanted to write a verbal fight like that, but never really had the opportunity 'til this story.

I don't have a PM list (yet) since I'm not sure if a lot of people are reading anyway, but I will PM you when I have a new chapter posted if you like. :) Same goes for anyone that wanted to be PMed, just drop me a note somehow (VM, review, etc). And thanks for the review. ^^
 

PokemonMasterRazir

Blastoise in suits.
Here is a larger review.

I am really amazed by how well you describe things in this. Describing for me is hard. Also;

“Says the guy that has nothing to do with his fifth place winnings from the Indigo League. Or so he states.”

“FOURTH! DAMMIT, IT WAS FOURTH!”

Oooh , a new running joke.

Brendan raised an eyebrow. “Do you want more?”

“Well, no. I just want to make sure you know that I'm not looking for a relationship with you and that I'm happily engaged.”

For now :)

Dammit, May, she thought in her head, biting her lower lip. You're getting married soon. Y-you can't be thinking of some other guy now. That's just wrong!
Don't deny.

Brendan smiled a bit, sat up and turned toward her, leaning in her direction. Gently licking his lips, he leaned forward even more until his lips were right next to her ear. “I think you already know,” he whispered almost seductively.

Oh my goodness.

So he lied. Kind of. “Steal” was such an ugly word. Persuaded sounded so much better. Oh, sweet connotation.

OOOOHHH BRENDAN YOU SO SLYYYY.
 

*Light*

Rayquaza rules!!
Breezy again? You've got a kind of a reputation for leaving hoennshipping fics without an ending...don't leave this one,ya? It's going awesome so far...the development is going at a nice pace. In my opinion, the plot is a bit more original than other fics. I'll be keepin an eye on this.
 

Breezy

Well-Known Member
What hoennshipping 'fic have I not ended? Lol. o_O

May I? ended with Brendan and May getting together, Realizing Fate ended with Brendan and May splitting up, and the other two hoennshipping fics I have are one-shots.

Not unless you mean HLBMA which isn't really shipping, anyway, and is about a month or two away from ending. :3

Thanks for reading and reviewing though. ^^
 

Kanta-chan

Well-Known Member
>=D Ohhoho, my obsession for Hoennshipping is slowly coming back.
 

Breezy

Well-Known Member
So this chapter is a bit more raunchier (especially near the end at the last scene shift). Nothing explicit or R-rated, of course, but just a little warning, especially if you're uncomfortable with that stuff. ;P Does ye need to read it to get the plot? Nah. Just wanted to attempt it really.

Enjoy!

..............................................
Tuesday – May 15th, 2009 (6:43 A.M.)
...............................................


“It's too early for this crap.”

“I know.”

“And my hate for you just went up a rung on my 'ladder of hate'. You are now on rung five.”

“I know – wait. When did I ever get past rung three?”

“When you ditched me a few days ago to hang out with May, leaving me with all those little kids touching and petting my poor delcatty with their sticky hands. Do you know how long it took me to brush through her hair, getting out all those tangles? Let me tell you, a riled up delcatty is not a delcatty you want to deal with. And furthermore ...”

Brendan stopped listening to his grumbling friend and rubbed sleepily at his eyes, yawning and inhaling the cold, salty air that whipped at his face. He flew on the back of his flygon, the tip of her head slapping his chin. Annoyed, he scooted back a bit to avoid it, his legs pressed up against her hard, green body as he turned his head toward his right. Flying next to his flygon's wide green wingspan was Wally, clinging onto the fluffy white feathers of his altaria. As Brendan turned his head, he merely smiled innocently and nodded as Wally's eyes met his in a cold glower while he ranted on. He tapped the back of his flygon, and his flygon turned her head, looking into her trainer's eyes through the red covers that protected her own. Pointing down, the flygon obeyed, diving down toward the ocean, Wally and his altaria following suit.

Brendan dug his heels lightly into his pokémon's side, and the flygon pulled herself up, her wings grazing the ocean water. Although it was dark, Brendan could see the shadow of his pokémon and himself reflect on the bumpy waves. The sun had barely risen over the dark mountains that bordered Lilycove, rays of pinks and yellows grasping at the nighttime canvas, the warmth of the morning dispersing, like butter spread on toast.

Now traveling with Wally for the past seven or so years made him learn a lot about his rambling companion. One thing, for starters, was his incessant need to ramble. Another would be his morning grumpiness. Well, technically, Wally was always grumpy, just a tad grumpier when the sun wasn't above his head. He wasn't really sure what happened to him back when they first met. So quiet. So humble. So shy. So ... not ... whatever the hell he was today.

“... And speaking of which, you never told me how it was going with May anyway. Are you getting along with her? You know, that reminds me of that one time ...”

Ah, there he goes on what Brendan liked to call his “grandpa rants” about the “good, old days” when they were younger, even though Wally was a few months younger than he was. So tough, Wally's life, as the green-haired trainer doth murmured about whenever he reminisced, of constantly being watched and protected because he was “sick.”

Sick with what? Brendan thought, his eyes narrowing a bit, focusing on a spec of land up ahead. As they came closer toward it, the details of the spec became more clearer. The famous, glittering white sand that blanketed all Hoenn beaches became more apparent, sham diamonds in the peeping sunlight. The sand lead up to a man made cavern carved out of the hard, gray rock, darkness trapped within. Brendan could already smell the wet rust that he was to be greeted with when he set foot inside.

“There it is,” said Brendan, tapping the back of his flygon lightly before pointing in front of him toward the cavern. “When we get closer to it, land on that cavern, okay?” He smiled a bit at the happy hum of his flygon as she nodded in agreement, lowering her head.

Questions about his oddly silent friend continued to run through Brendan's mind, though he figured it was a nice change since all he seemed to worry about was May and infiltrating old Team Aqua bases, like the one Wally and he were headed to. Wally never really told him exactly what he was sick with, but Brendan knew better than to pry at it; it was probably a sensitive topic with the green-haired man, and it would be rude to pester him about it. He guess he kind of understood Wally's flip of attitude, being locked up inside a stuffy house all day until he finally snapped, though it seemed to be more of a gradual development than a complete 180 degree turn. Wally constantly joked that Brendan was the one that finally got him out of that house after he defeated him in battle back when they were younger, stating that he wanted to “wipe that snotty, arrogant grin off his face” but that was a joke, right?

Brendan glanced at Wally through the corner of his eyes, noticing the determined, solemn expression on his face. Why did Wally care this much to help him even after groaning about it? Again, Brendan supposed this had a lot do with his past; after all, one really can't run away from the teachings parents taught you, and he supposed that their “caring” nature, much to Wally's pseudo – and sometimes real – grumbling, carried on toward his friends.

It was times like these where Brendan realized how much he took his friend for granted as they landed on the beach, watching through curious eyes as the green-haired trainer scratched the head of his altaria lovingly before returning her.

“Stop staring at me,” Wally rumbled from the back of this throat. “Ass.”

Though, he was always quickly reminded why they fought so much as soon as he thought positively.

With an eye roll, Brendan thanked his flygon by feeding her a pokéblock before returning her to her appropriate ball. Clipping the ball back on his belt, he shoved his hand into the pockets of his baggy denim jeans and looked toward the cavern, water dripping from its ceiling into puddles. The salty breeze whipped around his clothing, puffing up the light, cotton cloth of his dark green button up shirt. He held his bandanna down for it was slipping off in the harsh wind. Motioning his head to get Wally's attention, he began to walk toward the cavern, sidestepping a bit to avoid drops of water that fell neatly in line before being absorbed into the sand.

“Wasn't this a Team Magma base when we first encountered it all those years ago?” questioned Brendan, sliding one of his backpack straps off his shoulders so he could swing it around to the front. He unzipped the back pocket and dug around in it, pulling out a flashlight, turning it on.

“Well, yeah,” Wally muttered, flicking his own flashlight across the sandy walls. “But I'm pretty sure Team Magma drove Team Aqua out of this base. I doubt Team Magma would pick a base so close to the water not unless it already had machine and equipment and rooms and whatnot set up already.”

Pictures of explosions, the red heat contrasting with the dark night, flashed before Brendan's eyes. “Er ... Wait. I remember that one night we flew off into the night and there was an explosion in that cavern. So wouldn't the entire place be in shambles?

Wally motioned his hand toward a broken down machine, its parts scattered along the concrete floor in piles of wet rust and sand. “So one machine explosion means the entire base explodes as well?”

“Well ... I thought – I don't – fine.”

With a smirk, Wally walked ahead of Brendan, sand crunching underneath his sneakers with Brendan closely behind, flicking his flashlight toward the path in front of them. They passed underneath an archway, drops of water dripping from it, and entered a bigger room bare of anything except a cold metal railing. The two men walked toward it and grasped the metal in their hands, peering over the bar, greeted by the sea breeze and the roaring ocean below.

“This must have been the port Team Aqua used for their submarines,” remarked Wally. “They went on a lot of aquatic missions, researching water types and the ocean, before they turned ... um, evil.”

Brendan pushed himself backward and walked across the large room, running his hands up and down his arms to rid them of goosebumps. His eyes swept across the room down toward bare, narrow hallways. “Seems deserted now, though. So I suppose we can mark this place off as, well, useless.”

“Not quite,” answered Wally, pushing himself back up. He nudged his head toward another hallway, and the two crossed the cold tile flooring toward it. Their footsteps and drops of water echoed throughout the narrow passageway. “I mean, well, technically you're right but it marks off one less place we have to check.”

The two emerged into what seemed to be an office with its metal desk still intact and rusty file cabinets pushed up against the walls. Nodding at each other, Brendan headed toward the desk while Wally turned to the closest filing cabinet, trying to jar it open by tugging at the handle.

Brendan, meanwhile, walked around the desk, observing it, before bending down a bit to look at the handle of the drawer in front of him. Gripping it tight, he thrust the drawer open and peered into it. Empty. Again, he did it for the drawer below it and found nothing. “Find anything yet?”

Wally closed another filing cabinet and went toward the table. He threw a manila folder on the table, alerting Brendan's attention. “A bunch of old papers,” he muttered, opening the folder and picking up a few sheets of paper, yellow and wrinkled with age. “Most of them are memos. I suppose Team Magma, when they captured this base, kept them so they also had records on Team Aqua, though most of this crap is things about getting their pokémon evaluated and whatnot. Nothing too interesting.”

“Same – ooh a pen.” Brendan stood up eagerly, clutched in his hand a blue pen. Wally stared dully at him, and Brendan merely shrugged back, pocketing the treasure. He flipped through the pages. “Well, they have the last names of the grunts or admins on these memos.” He put the papers back in the folder, Wally following suit, and stuffed it inside his backpack. “Maybe we can contact some of the older members. I'm sure Sean or Dean or whatever still has a database of the old Team Aqua team, so maybe he contacted them if he really is planning something. And then we can call them or something.”

“I guess,” was all that Wally replied with. He shivered, using his hands to rub up and down his bare arms. “Let's get out of here and get coffee, or something. I think this is all that's in here that's important. We can look over these papers later.” He nudged his head toward the exit to get Brendan's attention and started to walk in that direction, Brendan staring at his back. Shaking his head, he quickly followed, turning his head to take one last look at the office, before rushing after his friend.

- - -​

“It's suppose to rain later tonight back in Mauville.”

“So?”

“So ... you should dress warm?”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Wally rolled his eyes and put down his newspaper as Brendan stood next to the small table in the stuffy coffee shop, two cups of coffee in his hands. He handed Wally the steaming beverage before sitting in the wooden chair opposite of him, his pants sliding over the smooth texture. Placing his cup on the shaky mahogany table, he glanced outside the grimy window as Wally took a sip of his coffee, breathing in the swirling steam before lifting his paper once more to read.

“What time are you leaving?” asked Wally from behind the newspaper.

Brendan tore his eyes away from the window and looked at the back of Wally's newspaper. He then looked at the clock on the wall. Thirty past seven. “Well, I don't have to meet May until later in the afternoon so ... Don't know. I might go home and make sure everything is in contact first. What about you? Have any gym plans?”

“I have a life outside of the gym, you know,” muttered Wally, lowering the paper a bit to look at Brendan.

Brendan merely stared back in disbelief.

“... All right, fine. More renovation plans, and I'm getting some of my grass pokémon accustomed to the field.”

“Ah, so you did choose grass types. Very appropriate for a Verdanturf gym.”

“Yeah.” Wally nodded, putting his paper down. He wrapped his fingers around his coffee cup. “My roserade will love it. I've got a bit of training to do with my other grass types, but I still have a year and a half before the gym actually opens.”

“Well, you can borrow my tropius if you want,” remarked Brendan helpfully. He kicked his feet across the rough, gray carpet. “She's been doing a lot better with her ... craziness.”

“That's good. I'll think about it. Anyway, I can be there anytime, so I might hang around here for a bit. Maybe if I ask around and figure out where Sean works by talking to some locals or something. Oh, and I need to get some shopping done at the department store. I need a suit and tie for ... you know. May's ... thing.”

“It's not going to happen,” muttered Brendan, tearing his eyes away from Wally to look up at the ceiling fan up ahead. The cool breeze the fan produced felt nice against his flushed skin. “I told you that I would win her back before the thirty-first.”

“I know, I know.” A bit uncomfortable, Wally raised his paper to hide his head. He shook the paper a bit to rid it of wrinkles. “Brendan, I've been thinking about our ... situation lately. Your half of it, rather.”

Brendan's eyes made their way to a clear glass counter displaying bagels and pastries in a pale, white light. “And?”

“I can't be alone in thinking that this isn't ... right.”

Brendan was quick to respond, like he had rehearsed this conversation in his head. “He's lying to her, Wally. Even if he isn't planning to do anything with Team Aqua, he's still lying about his name – his whole life. I can't ... I can't let her marry this guy.”

“But ... but why can't we just tell her about it?”

“With no proof? Isn't this the whole reason why we're prodding around old Team Aqua bases? For proof about Sean's or Dean's or whoever's identity?”

“Well ... It'd at least raise her suspicions. All I'm saying is that two wrongs don't make a right, Brendan. And I know you feel the same way I do, deep down, whether you want to admit it or not.”

“What wrong am I doing?”

The naivety that surrounded Brendan, whether he meant it or not, was starting to irritate the green-haired trainer. He didn't respond, though, as Brendan continued to speak. “I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm only trying to help May get out of something she's going to regret later, and if it's making her have feelings for me again, then so be it,” he rambled, glaring at the back of Wally's newspaper. The fine black lines of print were beginning to blur together through Brendan's narrowed eyes. “Sean is a liar. He's lying to the woman he supposedly loves and cares about. Real men don't do that.”

“Real men don't try to take away happily engaged married women either,” snapped back Wally. He put down his newspaper and smoothed out the wrinkles with shaky fingers, looking into the angry face of Brendan. He remained calm, his lips in a slight frown. “Dammit, you know this is wrong. Stop whatever the hell you're doing with May before it's too late. You can be her friend, but hell, Brendan. This is no worse than actually cheating on someone.”

“For latios' ... Eff it, Wally. Just eff it.” Brendan stood up abruptly, the tops of his thighs colliding with the bottom of the small mahogany table, making it shake back and forth. He grabbed hold of his coffee cup, clenching onto it tightly, bending it a bit in the middle. “And eff you. What Sean is doing is bad, and I'm only trying to stop him before it's too late. I'm not the bad guy in this! Stop making it out like I'm the bad guy!” With a huff, Brendan stomped toward the door of the coffee shop before Wally could respond and pushed it open, the bell on the door rattling as it collided with the cold glass.

“Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better, B Boy!” he heard Wally yell back as the door swung shut.

As he stomped to latias knows where, Brendan couldn't help but wonder about what he was mad about. Wally, obviously, but why? Was it because Wally didn't know any better about the situation? Sean was bad. Bad. A liar. He would be HURTING May if no one stopped him. Who knew what else he was lying about, or where the lies would stop. Or was he mad because, deep down, he knew that what he was doing was wrong and Wally telling him that just made him ... go nuts? Dammit, he knew Wally was right; Wally is always right.

But still ...

Brendan, lost in his thoughts, found himself walking ankle deep in long, swaying grass. They waved and twisted in the salty breeze, flowing together in a mass sweeping motion like the ocean. Putting down his cup of coffee in the grass, he ran his numb fingers down the rusty railing that bordered the grassy landscape from the end of the cliff before pressing his stomach against it, leaning forward, peering down toward the ocean below. The waves beat against the sharp, rocky wall, spraying his face lightly in salt water. Wiping at his face frustratingly, a twisted, nervous feeling gnawed at his stomach. Like always, Wally's words were embedding itself into his skin. So annoying.

Why did he bother traveling with Wally? All he did was make him feel bad.

“Yeah, dude. I got the same message from this Sean guy, too.”

Voices from behind made Brendan turn his head, noticing a couple of older men walk down the path toward Lilycove.

“The letter said that this Sean guy is interested about my expertise in water pokémon,” the man replied casually to his friend as they walked past the suspicious Brendan. “Did yours say something like that?”

“Yeah ... Guess we'll figure out what's up with him at that meeting later, right?”

The two men laughed, distancing themselves from Brendan as they entered Lilycove. The white-haired trainer pulled out his pokénav from his pocket and flipped it open, numbly dialing his green-haired companion's number. That was why he needed Wally.

Brendan impatiently tapped his foot, listening to the dial tone, waiting for Wally to answer.

- - -​

“Is something bothering you, B Boy?”

“Hmm?”

Brendan looked up from the clock on the wall he was staring at to the doorway where May positioned herself. She hooked a pair of silver hoops to her ears before releasing the earrings from her grip, letting them swing back and forth for a bit. She then strode into the room, her clean white sneakers flattening the equally white carpet beneath her feet. She sat on the arm of the couch Brendan was sitting on, turning her head a bit to look at the worried man while adjusting the bandanna on her head.

Like hell he'd tell her what was really bothering him. “Just ... lost in my thoughts, really,” muttered Brendan, looking into May's eyes and forcing a weak smile on his face. “Don't worry about it.”

May gave Brendan a reassuring pat on the arm and stood back up, stretching, the bottom of her shirt rising a bit, revealing her flat stomach. “So um ... what are we doing tonight? Anything I need to dress up for or is what I'm wearing fine?”

Brendan's eyes swept over May's appearance. She was dressed casually like him, a plain red polo (it reminded him of the top of her old traveling outfit) and jeans. “Dinner. Just dinner. Nowhere fancy.”

May laughed a bit. “Hanging out with you is going to make me fat. All this food you're treating me with ... It can't be cheap.”

“I already told you, May, that money means nothing to me if I get to spend time with you.”

She snorted in response.

“All right, all right. So I thought I'd save some money tonight. I thought, well ...” He hesitated, biting his bottom lip a bit. “This might be a little odd for you, but I thought we'd go back to the motel I'm staying at.”

“Er ...” May raised an eyebrow. “Brendan, I –”

“Don't think so dirty, pervert.” Brendan smirked, crossing his arms. “I meant the kitchen at the motel there. I wanted to make you dinner, if you think you could stomach it.”

“Sounds cute. I can't wait to see you in a little pink apron.” She giggled, sliding backward on the arm of the couch and plopping into Brendan's lap, her legs in the air. Brendan shifted a bit awkwardly but smiled back all the same. Since the two had been spending nearly everyday with each other ever since they made up on the sixth, May had become more ... friendly with him. He would say flirty even, but he'd rather not get his hopes up – it had only been a week and a half after all. Not that he didn't mind the new attention or anything.

Scooping the girl up in his arms and dropping her on the floor so she stood on her own feet, Brendan turned toward the door. “Ready then? I managed to pay off the motel owner to keep the kitchen empty for me for only two hours.”

“Oh, so you still paid, huh? What's the point in that?” May asked smugly, nudging Brendan in the arm with her elbow. She waved at a maid passing by before walking with Brendan toward the entrance of the mansion, turning the knob and letting the cold air in. Shivering, she ran her hands up and down her arms and stepped out, Brendan closing the door behind them.

“Maybe I just wanted to show you how crappy I cook,” he simply retorted as the two began their descent down the asphalt slope toward the gates that protected the mansions from the “common folk.” May pulled out a remote control from her purse and pressed the button as they got closer to the gate, and it shuddered to life, opening so the two could pass.

The sun had already set behind Verdanturf's hills, so the moon basked the quiet town in an eerily silver glow. What was warm wind in the afternoon quickly changed into a chilly, snappy breeze that bit at any bare inch of open skin. Brendan felt May occasionally brush up against him, her slender, soft fingers sliding down the back of his hand, sweeping over his knuckles before resting in between the gaps of his fingers. Their hands would lay there, entwined for a few blissful seconds, until she teasingly pulled away and repeated the process in a mindless taunt. The simple brushing became more apparent as the two walked the dark path between Verdanturf and Mauville where the only lights were from the tails of dancing volbeat.

“It's cold,” May shivered, pressing her body against Brendan's arm as the two got closer to Mauville. Slowly, she wrapped both her arms around the man's arm, hugging it tight. She began to linger back, walking slowly, so what was once a leisurely pace turned into a slow, almost romantic, trod along the nature-made path. She looked at Brendan through her thick eyelashes, her blue eyes sparkling

Coyness was something new to Brendan ... or he hadn't really come in contact with it for a long, long time. What other girlfriends he had in the past always knew what they wanted – him – and never really ... alluded to it. They just asked – no, demanded it. May was different, though, like she wanted him to make the first move. She gave off this aura of innocence, like she needed to be protected and saved. Damsel in distress, really. There was something troubling about it, especially since that was the reason why she left him the first time. Why would she revert back to it if she declared that she hated it so much?

Shaking his head, Brendan went ahead and wrapped an arm around May's waist and pulled her in closer to warm her up. She didn't fight back and, much to his surprise, pressed her head against his chest, releasing his arm from her grasp to wrap her arms around his body instead.

“You're odd,” was all Brendan could muster up, resting his chin against the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. And it was true; she was acting clinger than usual.

“Just a little,” she replied with a sigh as the dirt ground turned into the hard pavement of Mauville. They quickly turned the corner, walking past the infamous diner toward the motel. Brendan lead May to the second door of the first floor of the motel, reluctantly letting go of May to open the door.

Brendan spent a good portion of the day, as soon as he flew back from Lilycove, cleaning up the grungy, cramped kitchen so it wouldn't be too disgusting to cook and eat in. Luckily, since Mauville had some pretty good restaurants and most people echoed his thoughts about eating a bag of chips instead of setting foot in that kitchen, Brendan was sure they wouldn't be interrupted by a stranger. In fact, there probably was no reason to pay off the motel owner, but he'd rather be safe than sorry.

May didn't seem to care about the yellow tinge of the small square tiles that made up the floor or that the corners of the ceilings were covered in cobwebs as she bounced into the small kitchen and squealed in delight at the table pushed up against the paint-peeling walls. Brendan had set up a small table covered in a checkered tablecloth (he dared not tell her that he had to kill a whole bunch of ants to clean it and scrub off latios only know what type of mold) and adorned it with two white candles, tall and thin, held up by elaborately carved glass holders. In the center of the table was a vase filled with different colored roses, mostly red, their petals slightly sprinkled with dew. He already set up the plates and utensils, clean white plates that sparkled under the bright kitchen light and silver forks and spoons that lay neatly on folded white napkins.

So cliché, thought Brendan as he closed the kitchen door behind him and immediately walked to the stove where he left a crock pot simmering with sauce. He let it simmer for a good fifteen minutes or so before leaving to pick up May so it wouldn't take be that long before they could eat. Even though it wasn't the fancy, smancy recipe his mother taught him that literally took all day to simmer, he figured May would be impressed all the same.

And he was right. “Aw, you did all this for me?” she asked, smiling, her hands laced together and clasped against her chest. She then whiffed the delicious air that wafted throughout the room and turned around to the stove where Brendan, who's back was toward her, was stirring something. Strolling over, she stood on tippy toe and peered around that broad shoulders of the white-haired trainer, grabbing him lightly by the arm to maintain her balance.

“I didn't know you could cook,” she remarked. “It looks good.”

“Eh, it's just sauce,” he admitted, “and not the ones that take the entire day to make either.”

“More than I can do.”

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “You can't ... cook anything ... at all?”

May dropped back down to stand flat on her feet and twiddled her fingers, embarrassed. “Well, not like an actual meal ... meal. I mean ... I can microwave stuff and use the toaster and all that, but ... I don't know. I never really had to learn. Being a coordinator made me a decent earning, enough so that I could just go out to eat, and unlike a trainer, I didn't need to really to learn since I was never out in the wilderness or anything. And when I met Sean, he always treated me out to dinner or his servants made food for me and ...” Her cheeks flushed. “I guess I should learn.”

“It's not that hard once you learn the basics.” Brendan walked past May toward the table and bent down, lifting the tablecloth and pulling out several brown paper bags. The bags crinkled as Brendan pulled out the contents from them, a chrome stock pot and a package of spaghetti. “I can teach you something if you want.”

“Like what?”

Brendan handed her the pot, making the girl “oof,” and pointed to the sink. “One of the most easiest thing to learn is how to boil water. Once you learn that, a million doors open. Fill this up with water.”

“Um ...” May gripped the handles of the pot and glanced at Brendan with an unsure look on her face. “How much water?”

“Well, not too little. The more the better, really, so the pasta doesn't stick.”

“Er, right.” May strolled over to the sink and laid the pot in the sink, fiddling with the sink handles. The faucet made an odd rumbling noise before spurting out water in a stream of bubbly liquid, running into the pot and filling it up quickly. As soon as the pot was more than half filled, May turned off the taps and, grunting lightly, heaved the heavy pot back onto the counter. Gripping the handles tightly, she lifted the pot and half walked, half stumbled, to the stove, letting out another loud groan as she lifted the pot higher to rest on the burner next to the sauce. Brendan stared amusedly at her, and she merely blew up her bangs in return.

“Cute,” he remarked, crossing his arms as May peered into the pot of water. “Okay, now that that's over, turn the burner on so the water can boil.”

“What?” asked May, foreign to the world of cooking.

“Never mind,” he muttered. “Just watch.”

May pouted and crossed her arms. “Fine.”

Laughing a bit, Brendan turned the heat on, the blue flames of the burner flaring out from below the pot before settling back down. Since he was already in front of the stove, Brendan took the time to stir the thick sauce again, swirling it in small circles with a wooden spoon. Meanwhile, May, her hands behind her back, paced behind Brendan slowly, her head turned slightly to watch his back. She couldn't help it; she knew that the physical attraction she had for Brendan never went away. Even when he was scum, he was still handsome scum.

She couldn't help it – hell, she didn't even realize what she was doing before it was too late. She stood behind Brendan, her fingers grasping lightly around his firm shoulders. Brendan didn't seem to take notice or ignored her as he continued to stir the sauce. Her grip around his shoulders became firmer, though, and her arms slowly slid down his chest before lacing her fingers together, locking him in a warm embrace. Building up courage and fighting back her nerves, she lightly brushed her lips against the nape of his neck, smirking a bit when she felt him tense up and shiver. She stood up on tippy toe, kissing the nape of his neck again before her lips slowly trailed down to the side of his neck, the tip of her tongue lightly brushing against the skin.

Brendan immediately released the spoon from his grip at this, closing his eyes, his heart racing, his breath more shallow. Whatever thoughts he had quickly disappeared when he felt May's tongue dart quickly against his neck before she gently kissed it again. He took a sharp intake of breath when he felt her gently nibble on his neck.

What a tease.

How nice, though ...

Latios, she knew how to get him worked up ...

So bothered ...

Cheeaterrrr.

“Whoa! Okay, May!” Brendan quickly jumped back away from May, quickly wiping at his neck, frantic. His red eyes were wide. Of course Wally, even though he wasn't there, had to ruin his moment with his “cheating” lecture. “Let's uh – how about we ... I don't know if we should be ... Can you check if the water is boiling?”

May, her cheeks flushed pink, obeyed, most likely to turn her back toward him. She peered into the pot, and sure enough, it was to a rolling boil. “Yeah,” she answered, her back still turned toward Brendan. “It's boiling.”

You can say that again, thought Brendan in his head, turning toward the counter and putting his hands on it, leaning his weight again them. He shifted uncomfortably, his head bowed down, his heart still racing. Dammit, how did it get so hot in here? What the ... Why did she ... How could she ... What was he ... The poor man couldn't even think coherently anymore, this unbearable lust running through his veins, and he had to try with all his might to keep it under wraps – pun possibly intended. Dammit, May.

“Okay.” Brendan spun around, ran a hand through his hair, and walked toward the stove where May awkwardly stood, her eyes focusing on the ugly yellow tiling. “Uh –”

“Want to pretend that just ... never happened?” she interrupted.

“Y-yeah,” he trembled back. He grabbed hold of the box of spaghetti that he put down next to the stove, his shaking fingers fumbling over the cardboard box, trying to open it.

“I'm not sure what came over me.” God, why was she still talking about it? “It just ... it just happened.”

“Yeah, things like that happen all the time.” Mental eye roll. Dammit, why won't this stupid box of spaghetti open? Brendan's fingernail continued to scratch at the box opening, but the glue – or whatever held those stupid boxes together – held firm. Stupid box. Stupid spaghetti. Latios, why is it so hot? Dammit, someone open the door already.

May didn't catch onto his subtle sarcasm. “Yeah ... Anyway, sorry ...”

“It's ... It's no –” Brendan, frustrated, finally slammed the box of spaghetti against the counter, and the box split open, dropping the sticks of pasta all over the floor and, being so brittle, broke on impact. “... Problem.” With a sigh, Brendan stepped over the broken spaghetti and turned off the burners of both the water and the sauce. He rubbed his forehead through the cloth of his bandanna. “So ... Want to order pizza?”

May used her foot to sweep the sticks of spaghetti in a neat pile. “That sounds great, B Boy.”

- - -​

Brendan watched in amazement as May downed her fourth glass of wine. She then shook the glass a bit, gesturing that she wanted it refilled. Obeying, Brendan put down his slice of pizza before reaching for the wine bottle, pouring the dark red liquid into May's glass. She swirled it a bit before taking a sip, putting the glass down and replacing it with another slice of pizza instead.

“Don't you think you had enough?” he said, a small smile on his face. He leaned backward on his arms, his legs sprawled across the rough carpet of the motel room.

She let out a giggle. “Of course not. And even if I did, I know you'd take care of me.” She hiccuped a bit before letting out another loud giggle, falling backward, eagle spread on the carpet. After a few seconds, she quickly popped back up and crossed her legs, gazing at Brendan's bewildered face. She then rolled her eyes. “I'm only joking, Brendan. I'm not really that drunk.”

“Oh, I know that. I just stare at you because you're ... weird.”

“Thank you.”

Brendan picked up his slice of pizza and quickly ate it up before picking up the empty box and stretching a bit to put it in on the coffee table behind him. He then turned back toward May who, now that the space next to Brendan was free, quickly slid over and sat down next to him, grabbing his hand and playing with his fingers.

“Whatever I forgot about you in the past, I'm glad I remember it again,” she remarked absentmindedly, entwining her fingers with Brendan's. She then blinked, shaking her head and releasing Brendan's hand from her's. “Er, sorry. I guess I am a little buzzed.”

“Don't worry about it.” Brendan took a sip of his wine, his mind reveling over May's last statement. Finally, she was glad that she saw him again, even if she did want to forget about him in the past. “May, I'm glad you remember me, too.”

“You're so weird.” May let out a small laugh and gave Brendan a friendly, chaste kiss on the cheek.

Brendan looked at the clock on the wall. The short hand was slowly creeping it way toward twelve. “Mm ... almost midnight. I better walk you home.” He stood up, though May continued to sit on the floor, staring up at him, her arms outstretched. “Oh, don't be lazy.” With an eye roll, Brendan pulled May up to her feet and lead her toward the door. Wally, like always (again, how annoying), was right; he could hear the rain pounding on the sidewalk. He planned ahead, though, and quickly grabbed the black umbrella he placed near the door. “It's going to be cold.”

May nodded, quickly grabbing onto Brendan's left arm and pulling herself closer to his body. The white-haired trainer opened the door, opening the umbrella, pulling it above their heads. He winced as a flash of lightning stuck against the dark, rumbling sky, the rain drops gold under the glow of the streetlights. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, a tug on his arm caught his attention, and he turned around, noticing that May hadn't moved an inch. Confused, Brendan stepped back inside, his right hand and the umbrella still positioned outside the door.

“What's wrong?” he asked worriedly, noticing that the girl had her hair bowed down. He shook May off his left arm to brush a strand of loose hair away from her face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah ... Never better, really,” she trembled. All of a sudden, May looked back up and directly into Brendan's eyes, an odd, unrecognizable emotion flashing in her bright sapphires, confusing him. With a slight smirk, she pulled him in, throwing the open umbrella to the side, and closed the door, slamming him hard against it, pushing her body into his. Her hands pinned his arms down (not that she was strong enough to keep him pinned down anyway, but he wasn't going to fight her against it either), pressing her lips against his.

Brendan managed to move his mouth away. “May, what are you –” He was cut off as May's lips pressed themselves firmly against his again.

She's buzzed, he thought, trying to avoid May's lips by shifting his head even though he wanted nothing more than to kiss her back. Unfortunately, or maybe luckily, May gave up chasing his lips and went for his neck instead, gently sucking and biting it, her tongue softly moving back and forth. He bit his lip, squirming a bit, unsure about what to do. His instincts – stupid instincts – kept telling him to enjoy it, to kiss her back, to please her, but his mind was still working for some odd reason, flashing warning signs.

Don't do anything you'll regret ... or anything she'll regret, he continued to repeat in his head as he closed his eyes, squirming more. He felt May smile against his neck from all his tension. It's cheating ... Don't take away an engaged woman ... Don't do anything –

Andddd she went for the ear, giving his earlobe a soft lick, and he let out a gasp. She remembered that getting nibbled on the ear was his weakness.

“You want me, don't you?” she whispered seductively in his ear before gently biting down on his earlobe.

He couldn't help but let out a small groan at that, sliding down the door a bit, letting her take control.

Fight it, Birch, he thought urgently in his head, his eyes closing. He felt May fiddle with the buttons of his shirt, slowly unbuttoning it. While he wasn't doing anything back, he sure as hell didn't do anything to stop it either. He didn't think he had the power to stop her anyway; he was having trouble keeping his hands to himself as they roamed the back of the door, grasping desperately at anything that allowed him to get a grip. Don't let her do anything she'll regret.

Brendan, his eyes still shut, felt May's body lift away from his, and he mentally let out a relieved (or frustrated) sigh, hoping that she got all her tension out. She wasn't done though as she picked up one of his hands and let it rest on the below her neck, and, unknowingly to the closed eyes of Brendan, began to unbutton her polo. Smirking, she slid one of Brendan's hands down the open v of her shirt and let it rest there. She then noticed that Brendan's eyes were still closed.

“Open then,” she ordered in an alluring tone.

Brendan took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes, took one glance at where his hand was, and lost it. With shaky legs and a racing heart, Brendan pushed himself back up, scooped May into his arms, and quickly ran towards the bed.

-------------------------------------------------​

Anyway. :3 Yeah, I'm not sure if all that was necessary ... but dammit, it was fun to write. XD

LaTeR dAyZ!
 

Kanta-chan

Well-Known Member
O: I was not expecting that ending chunk at all lawl. Whatever, it was fun to read. Kanta sees a side of May that she's never really thought about; May's so... enticing. I can forgive Brendan for not fighting back. :>

Ah~ what's gonna happen in teh next chapter after this... *snickers*

[/short review]
 

*Light*

Rayquaza rules!!
O: I was not expecting that ending chunk at all lawl. Whatever, it was fun to read. Kanta sees a side of May that she's never really thought about; May's so... enticing. I can forgive Brendan for not fighting back. :>

Ah~ what's gonna happen in teh next chapter after this... *snickers*

[/short review]

EXACTLY my opinion. The last line made me laugh. It was as if Brendan just lost his mind.
 

Kanta-chan

Well-Known Member
XD Not bad-- It was just (VERY) unexpected since I thought that they would walk in the rain together, kiss, and all that cliche junk. (ESPECIALLY after having one scene of May not holding herself back in the making-spaghetti scene; I thought that would be it, but nooo you had to add more xD). Huuhuu~ *was not expecting douuuuuble tensionnnn*

sighsigh. Breezeh, you are always throwing surprised in your fics. P:
 

Breezy

Well-Known Member
Not that I'm sure anyone reads this story here, but just in case, I'll post the updates here, too. =P FDM is too much of a fun, twisty story for me to pass up.

I'm planning on revising this thing. Mostly the “Sean/Dean” plot line because, well, reading it over it sounds lame. I'm just going to make him unrelated to Archie because that's lame and probably get rid of that acronym thing. I think it'll be much more believable (and less coincidental) if I do that. But we'll see.

I'll admit it; I was tempted to write a smut AU (as in what could have happened) to continue off the last chapter. Lulz. Maybe I'll try writing it one of these days ...

Enjoy!

..............................................
Wednesday – May 16h, 2012
...............................................


“Mm ... what time is it?”

There was a grunt, followed by the ruffle of bed sheets. Something rattled on the chestnut nightstand as the figure lifted itself from the bed, grasping the cold plastic of the pokénav.

“Ten minutes 'til ten,” the deeper voice replied before flopping back down onto the bed, shaking the mattress. His hand was still clutched around his pokénav as he let out a loud snore, closing his eyes again.

“Ugh. Slept in later than I wanted.” Brendan felt May lift her figure from the bed as she rolled onto her back before sitting up, stretching her arms over her head. Giggling a bit, she reached over and lightly poked Brendan in the head, hearing him grunt once more.

“Why must you torment me?” he muttered, rolling back onto his stomach and burying his head in his pillow.

“You make it so easy.” Brendan felt May move toward him, lying on top his back and pressing her lips against the side of his neck, gently kissing it. “Good morning,” she whispered, her breath tickling his ear. “And thank you.”

Brendan turned around slowly, shifting May to his side as well, and stared at her. Her brown hair was sprawled across the pillow, tangled; it kind of reminded him of a taillow's nest. “For what?” he asked, his eyes still closed. “I didn't do anything.”

“Exactly,” she replied hastily, still lying on top of him. She tucked a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear. “You could have, but you didn't.”

“May, I have a lot of respect for you,” he murmured. He shifted his body so he laid on his back, the girl falling on top of his chest. He rested his chin on his chin and stared down at her, trying not to breathe his morning breath on her. “I didn't want you to regret doing something you may not have wanted to do.” Oh, the irony. He cringed at it a bit, his eyelids closing in on each other, but he played it off by rubbing his eyes with his fingers. When he opened them, he stared at the ceiling of his motel room, watching the ceiling fan circulate a cool breeze through the room.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

His left hand gently clenched the bedsheets. He wanted to kill Wally at that moment. Not only was he thinking of the green-haired prat when there was a beautiful girl in his bed, he implanted his evil “This is wrong!” morality babble in his mind. Yes, they didn't do anything, him and May, but the fact that he could have easily could have (and believe him how easy it was and how hard it was not to) was what troubled him. This is what he wanted. He wanted May. He wanted May with him. And she was with him. But she wasn't at the same time. She was suppose to be with someone else, even if she was lonely and even if she was the one that made the move on him not once, but twice.

His mind flooded with memories of last night. Oh, god.

He quickly shifted his body, causing May to drop back down to the mattress, and turned his back toward her, crossing his legs at the knees and hoping that his ... troubles would soon die down. Think about Wally again and his stupid cheater talk.

He heard the bed creak and felt May's warmth leave his back as she sat up. She adjusted the strap of her white tank top and turned toward the window, which was covered with a heavy, red cloth. “No answer, hmm?” she teased, stretching her arms over her head and resting the flat of her palms on the top of her messy hair. She yawned and licked her teeth before closing her mouth. “Guess I'll go take a shower.” She pulled the blankets away from her and crawled toward the edge of the bed before jumping to her feet. The folds of Brendan's flannel pajama bottoms that she had borrowed for the night draped down, covering her feet. She bent over, grabbing some clothes off the floor. “I'm gonna borrow your toothbrush!” she said in a singsong voice as she headed toward the bathroom near the front door, locking it behind her.

Feeling safer, Brendan rolled over to his back and stretched out, arms above him and bent to rest against the wooden headboard. As he closed his eyes, contemplating what he had just did – or could have done – he heard his pokénav give three loud beeps. He turned his head, staring at the lit up screen. It was indication that he had received text message – and apparently a lot of them as his pokénav continued to beep the longer he stared at it. Brendan grabbed the damn thing and managed to open his message box when rapid knocks on the front door caught his attention.

“Latios,” he muttered, getting out of bed and kicking the sheets onto the floor in the process. He dragged himself to the door, scratching his belly, and opened it, not surprised to see Wally standing before him, one hand clutching a newspaper and the other clutching his pokénav.

“What the hell did you do?” was his demand, his eyes narrowed. He ruffled the newspaper in his hand and pocketed his pokénav. “I've been texting you all morning!”

“Hum ... I thought we were past that stage where we bragged about what we did.” Brendan winked.

“I'm serious, Brendan.” Wally stamped his shoes on the concrete before stepping in, closing the door behind him. It was then Wally took in what Brendan was wearing: nothing, with the exception of black boxers with green poké balls printed on them. “And for god's sake,” he muttered, walking further into the room, scuffing his feet against the rough blue carpet with geometric purple circles. He pulled a dark green polo off a hanger from the closet near the bathroom and threw it at Brendan. “Put some clothes on.”

Brendan caught the shirt and pulled it over his head. “Nothing,” he replied honestly. He looked around, kicking back the blankets to find his jeans. “The dinner didn't work out exactly as I planned, so I ordered some pizzas and brought her up here.” He motioned toward the empty pizza boxes encrusted with dry cheese lying at the foot of a table near the television as he slid into his jeans. “We got a little tipsy – well, she got a little tipsy. Girls are pretty bad at holding their liquor.” He let out a laugh that quickly died down when he noticed Wally was still glaring at him. He zipped up his jeans and buckled his belt. “Anyway, it got late, and I was going to walk her home, but she wanted to ...” How could he politely phrase this? “Let's just say she wanted to spend the night here. That's it. Nothing happened.” He sighed at this. “Nothing too bad anyway.”

“Yeah, well, according to the tabloids, a lot more happened than just 'spending the night.'” Wally threw the newspaper on the table where a magazine slipped out. Brendan, while clipping his poké balls and pokénav to his belt, walked over and pulled the magazine out, staring at the cover. It was a blurry picture of him and May walking the path between Mauville and Verdanturf with his arm wrapped around her and her head pressed against his chest. In the corner, in a bright yellow circle with red font, was the promise of “More pictures inside!”

“Oh, come on.” Brendan rolled his eyes, flipping the magazine open to find said pictures while sitting down in a chair near the table. “Like anyone believes this stuff.” He managed to find the page, his eyes flicking back and forth across the photos. One was of him and May standing at the door of his hotel room, though it, too, was blurry thanks to the weather last night. The other was of him and May in their earlier days, as fifteen year olds. The tag line was “Childhood Love: Reignited?”

“Read it,” Wally urged, taking a seat across from Brendan and crossing his arms.

He skimmed it, reading a few choice words. “Blah, blah, Brendan Birch is the son of blah, blah ... aspiring pokémon researcher who finishes his internship in a year and will be bestowed the honor of following in his father's blah, blah ... How does this tabloid know this much about me?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

“Things aren't that hard to find, Brendan. Keep reading.”

“Something or another blah, Brendan and May have been recently spotted spending time with each other. Blah, blah, years ago the two were a couple but separated as the two followed different career paths ... blah, blah, what could have been a cute child reunion is quickly soured once everyone realizes that May is soon to be married in a few weeks this month.” He sighed. “Fantastic. The media knows. These pictures don't really prove anything, though.” He threw the magazine back on the table, staring at the picture of him and May as kids. Had it really been eight years? He still felt like he was that kid in the picture, grinning up at him with his bandanna askew and his clothes stained with remnants of the dinner he had just eaten.

“It doesn't matter.” By now, Wally had picked up his copy of today's newspaper and was reading it. He peered at Brendan from over the top of it, wrinkling the paper at the middle with a crinkling noise. “It still puts the idea of it into readers' heads. Not good. None of this is good, really, but that tabloid makes things ten times worse.”

“So is this all over Hoenn?”

“It's a local tabloid, so no, but I'm sure they have a website. Haven't checked.” Wally swung his backpack around and opened it, revealing stacks of paper in the back pocket. “I took all the ones I could find, but there might be more out there.”

“Thanks.” Brendan let out a sigh of relief, ruffling his hair in hopes of cleaning it up.

“Don't feel too relieved. There might be copies out there, still–” Wally turned his head when he heard something click behind him, followed by the creak of an opening door. He quickly grabbed the copy of the tabloid off the table and shoved it into his backpack, zipping it up. “Oh, May. You're here,” he said nonchalantly as he hung his backpack over the back of his chair. He turned his head toward Brendan, placing his newspaper down. “You didn't tell me that.” Brendan could sense the tension behind that forced grin.

May gathered her wet, brown locks with one hand and wrung it out, letting the drops of water fall into her other hand. “Yeah. I crashed here. Was too tired to walk home,” she replied with a smile, releasing her hair from her grip and letting it drape against her shoulders, dampening the collar of her polo. “It's nice to see you again. What have you been up to?”

“Gym renovations as usual.” He motioned for her to sit in the seat in between himself and Brendan. “How was ... what did you two do last night?”

Such an awkward question, but Wally seemed to relish in it, smirking. “Dinner,” was Brendan's stern reply as May took the free seat, running a hand through her tangled hair.

“Right. Dinner. How was that? You cooked, didn't you, Brendan?” asked Wally, staring at Brendan and leaning back in his seat, raising his eyebrows for a second. “Brendan's learned to be a pretty good cook, May. You know that?”

“No. I just learned that yesterday. I wish I got to taste it, but ... um–”

“Mishaps happened,” Brendan interrupted, glaring at his friend.

“Mishaps, huh? That sucks.” Wally was smiling now, his nose starting to crinkle. Brendan had learned this was Wally's way of holding back his laughter.

“It does.”

“I hope you found something else to do to occupy your time.”

“We did, thanks.”

“I'm hungry,” said the oblivious May, unaware of the awkward tension between the two boys. “Have anything to eat?”

“There's a fruit basket on the counter near the bathroom,” answered Brendan, not taking his eyes off Wally who had now had to bite his lip to contain his laughter. He made motions with his hand, the ever popular slicing motion across his neck. Wally replied with the classic middle finger motion, grinning.

“Quit being an asshole,” Brendan said under his breath.

“Oh, fine. Ruin my fun,” he whispered back, pouting, staring at the side of the room.

May had rejoined the two boys, an apple in hand. She rubbed it against her jeans before taking a bite out of it, juice dribbling down the sides of her mouth and running down her chin. “Mmm ...” she mumbled between her closed lips, wiping at her mouth with her fingers.

Brendan knew Wally wouldn't keep his word: “Was that the noise you made last night?” asked Wally jokingly.

“You're fucking dead,” Brendan quickly replied, standing up, knocking his chair to the ground.

May almost choked on mouthful of apple but managed to swallow it. “Brendan, calm down. I mean ... it is kind of suspicious that I'm still here, and it's obvious that he was joking. At least he better be joking ...”

Wally smiled innocently, his eyes still staring at the side of the room.

“Nothing happened, though,” she continued, gripping her apple firmly in her right hand. “Right, Brendan?” She directed her attention from the grinning Wally to the fuming Brendan who had both his hands on the table, leaning into them.

“Right,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Was just friends catching up, that's all.” She took another bite out of her apple and swallowed it after a few chews. “You know, I think all three of us should hang out today,” May suggested. “It's been awhile since we've done that. Are you busy today, Wally?”

Brendan gave a few shakes of his head, a clear sign that said “You better be ****ing busy,” but Wally nodded. “For you, May, I have all the time in the world.”

“You were always such a sweetie, Wally. I'm glad to see that didn't change.” May smiled and placed her half-eaten apple on the table. “Think we could pick up a quick lunch somewhere, though? The apple is kind of ... gross-tasting.”

“Of course. I'm sure you two must be starving.” Wally stood up, May following suit. “Let's get out of here. And get over yourself, Brendan.”

“Do you see my shoes? They're white sneakers,” asked May as Wally lead her to the door, kicking back the sheets that managed to find themselves on the floor. Brendan had remained firm in his spot, staring at the backs of his friends, his teeth still grinding together. If he could last the day without babbling his feelings toward May, babbling what had actually happened to Wally, babbling how ****ing guilty he felt about what actually happened, or not killing Wally in some horrible, twisted death that would probably involve Wally's throat and whatever Brendan had at hand in the moment, it would be a miracle. With a sigh, Brendan pulled himself together, grabbed his wallet and bandanna off the dresser, and followed the two out the door, throwing his shoes on over his feet.

“Diner?” suggested Wally as Brendan closed the motel room, jiggling the doorknob to make sure it fully locked.

“Yum,” she replied, licking her lips.

The three walked silently down the sidewalk, which eventually lead to the busy Mauville streets. Brendan was a bit behind Wally and May for a mixture of reasons. One was to keep Wally safe from himself (he was just out of arm's length) and another was to eavesdrop on their conversation without his crude interruptions. Wally was once a shy kid, one who could barely say “Hello” to others, but he had since worked on it. It had been, after all, a good number of years since the once sick kid caught his ralts with May's help. He was now able to conjure up conversation about, well, anything. The interesting thing about Wally, Brendan noted as he tied his bandanna around his head, was his ability to empathize with others, even if he hadn't experienced the same thing. Maybe it correlated to his being sick thing, he didn't know. He was undeniably honest, at least when it came to emotion. He knew that despite being a jackass to him at times, he would always have his back. His back currently needed information.

“Can't say I haven't been curious, May,” began Wally, lifting his head to stare at the sky. It was still overcast from the night before, the gray sky making his pale face paler, but it had at least stopped raining. “How long have you known Sean?”

May accidentally kicked a puddle, sending drops of water flying. She hooked her thumbs on her belt loops, her knuckles brushing against the pokénav clipped onto the outside of her pocket. “Um, only a few months actually. But it felt right, you know? People think I'm stupid for getting engaged so fast, but I can't help how I feel.”

Brendan snorted but luckily the two in front of him didn't hear him. They passed the outside of some shops. Brendan stared at his moving reflection, the tired twenty-three year old staring back at him in dismay. What did you do last night? it asked him.

“Gotcha,” said Wally, stopping in front of the diner. He placed a hand on the metal railing of the door and pushed it forward, making the bell that hung from the top of it chime pleasantly. “How old is he?”

“Twenty-six.”

“Oh, so not much older than us.”

“Yep,” she said, walking past Wally to enter the diner. She smiled at a passing waitress who was carrying a pitcher of water. Wally had entered after her, and Brendan caught the closing door, pushing it further so he could enter as well. He let it slam shut behind him, creating a short breeze that ruffled some of the papers on the wall above the cash register.

“He was ... always apart of his water reservoir business? Is that it?” Wally followed May again, who was now following another waitress to an open booth.

May slid into the booth with ease, making it squeak under her jeans. “Yeah. He's been apart of it for years now,” she answered as Wally and Brendan took the seats opposite of her. She nodded politely and smiled as the waitress handed her a menu. “Family-owned. He was a trainer, though, but he didn't take the pokémon league challenge. He likes water-types, obviously.” She placed the menu down on the table and looked at it, her eyes flicking back and forth to look at her food options.

Brendan and Wally did the same. “Have you ever visited his business?” asked Wally, his head down, playing with the corner of the laminated menu, bending it back and forth.

“Not yet. It's not like a zoo type of water reservoir. They take care of wild water pokémon that have gotten hurt and release them back into the wild once they recover. They also clean up the beaches. That's what Sean tells me anyway.” She laughed lightly. “I never really pay attention when he talks business. A bit too mundane for my tastes.”

“Sounds like he does good work for Hoenn then – just water, please.” Wally looked up at the returning waitress who waiting on them for their drink order. “I'll take a cheese omelet as well, thanks.”

“Iced tea for me, please.” May handed the waitress her menu. “And I'll just take a stack of pancakes with a side of scrambled eggs.”

Brendan had dazed out by now, staring out the window, his chin resting against his fist. “Uh, just coffee,” he said, whipping his head around, startled when Wally nudged him in the arm. “And a ...” He quickly read over the menu, picking the first thing he saw, “breakfast burrito combo.” He handed back the menu before resuming his pose of thoughtfully gazing out the window at pedestrians.

“So ... are you excited about getting married?”

This caught Brendan's attention, but he didn't turn back around, staring at a young trainer play with his treeko. The grass-type scampered around his trainer's legs, and the trainer spun around, trying to keep around with him but ended up tripping over his feet and falling on his behind.

“Oh ... yes,” she replied. Brendan couldn't help but notice the hesitation in her answer. “He's a wonderful man. I'm very lucky.”

That was a far cry from “I love you.”

“I can't wait, really,” she added.

Or could she? It took all his might to bite his tongue and not ask.

“I am a little nervous, but I guess everyone is before the 'big day.'” She let out another light laugh.

Brendan had slowly turned his head back around in hopes that it wouldn't catch the attention of Wally or May. He stared into May's face, noting her expression, a mixture of nervousness, happiness, and something else he couldn't place a finger on. Was she feeling guilty, too?

“Yeah,” replied Wally, unraveling his utensils from its napkin container. The utensils clattered against each other before landing on the shiny table top with a muffled thunk. He played with the fork, gently pressing his palm against the top of it to make the bottom portion stand up. “Well, I'm happy for you. “ The waitress had come back with their drinks. Wally lifted his cup of water. “To many happy years.”

“Thanks.” May unwrapped her straw and placed it in her iced tea. She stirred it, letting the ice rattle.

Brendan had opened his mouth, and an “I ...” found its way out his mouth, but he quickly closed it once Wally snapped his head toward him. He instead looked past May's head toward the other patrons sitting at the counter. Some had swiveled their chairs toward their booth. They whispered to each other. Their eyes were ... suspicious. Disbelieving. Angry. Or maybe he imagined that. Did they know what happened last night? Stupid tabloids. Stupid last night. Stupid him.

And then the anger hit him, surging in his belly and building its way up. How was May acting so calm? Did she just use him for some fun last night? He wouldn't mind if it was another girl, usually, as he always enjoyed a bit of 'fun' as well, but this was May, the only girl he really had feelings for. But she just brushed it off, like dirt off clothing, and let it float away to dissipate into the air until there was nothing left.

“I'll be right back. Gotta use the bathroom. You two have fun.” Wally got up from the booth and walked past the table, heading toward the exit where the restrooms were located. May took advantage of the alone time and placed a hand on Brendan's hand, making him jump up slightly in surprise.

“What's wrong?” she asked, leaning over the table. “You've been acting funny all morning.”

She couldn't be serious. “I don't know, May,” he muttered back, making sure that other patrons couldn't hear him talk. “Maybe it's the whole you jumping me last night thing and then blowing it off. How are you just ... sitting there? You're ... you know. Engaged.”

May slowly pulled her hand back and placed it in her lap. “Look,” she whispered back. “It was a mistake, and I shouldn't have done that last night. Just we've been hanging out a lot lately, and all the nostalgia has been catching up, and I ... I couldn't ... It was a mistake, Brendan. I'm sorry. It means nothing. We can't do anything more.”

“You know how I feel about you,” he replied angrily. “I've been honest about it ever since we reunited. And to toy around with my feelings like that?”

“I'm sorry,” she repeated in an urgent, more hushed, tone. “Like I said, the nostalgia hit me hard. Please ... please just try to forget about it.”

Brendan just noticed the mug of steaming coffee in front of him. He grabbed a few bags of sugar out of the contained and ripped them open, pouring them into the brown liquid. “You know I can't,” he said, watching the white crystals sink into his coffee. “And I don't think you can either. I'm not going to imply anything, May. I told you I'm not trying to steal you away–” Ah, more lovely lies to add onto his guilt, “–but you know as well as I do that nostalgia wasn't making you act that way.”

“Don't do this, Brendan. Not here,” she hissed. “It was nothing. It can't be anything more.”

Brendan pulled out his spoon from its napkin confinements. “Fine,” he simply replied, stirring his drink, letting it clink against the blue ceramic. He pulled his spoon out and placed it on the table before grasping his coffee by the mug's handle and taking a sip out of it, testing its heat before taking a bigger swallow. Channel your anger into the coffee, Brendan. The last thing you want it to make her angry with you again, or better yet feel guilty about what she did – rather, could have done – with you.

Wally, along with the waitress from earlier, had returned from his bathroom trip and sat down, staring at May's angry face before turning his head to look at Brendan, who was still drinking coffee with his eyes closed. He could read his body language, though: tense shoulders, stiff back. A stressful conversation had taken place while he was gone. “Uh–”

“We're okay, Wally. No worries,” May replied before Wally could asking anything, forcing a smile on her face as the waitress set her stack of pancakes and eggs in front of her. She placed her napkin in her lap and held her knife in her right hand and her fork in the other, starting to cut into her fluffy, buttery pancakes. “Right, Brendan?”

It was the second time she had asked him that today. Brendan placed his mug back down on the table and moved his utensils so the waitress could place his food in front of him. “Right,” he answered dryly.

Wally gave him a look, a look that said “We better to talk about this later” before turning his attention toward his omelet, poking the middle of it with his fork. Brendan did the same with his food and couldn't help but see a face out of it, a melancholy look that probably matched the expression on his face. He didn't believe May, of course; last night, and the days before that, proved that he was no longer “nothing” to her. But still ... He looked at the window again, his stomach churning with all sorts of emotions that filled him up and made him gag at the sight of food. There was a small part of him that believed her at the same time.
 
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