Flavored Revelation

[Shana]

"Flavored Revelation"

[/u]
Pokemon Aiming For: Lickitung
Length:27,532 (without spaces, before graded) and 58,256 (with spaces, after graded)[/CENTER]

What a nuisance. The middle-aged man was having a very difficult time in concentrating on the wretched paperwork he had to fill out. Sitting behind a desk waiting for his scouts to call him was almost impossible for such an impatient man; he hated being cooped up in an office. His gray eyes flecked with specks of brown glanced at the clock in desperation. If even the time got him out of here before his scouts did, he’d be grateful.

'Three minutes to go,' he mentally noted.

The man's massive palms and stubby fingers made yet another futile attempt to brush his lilac bangs from his face although the strands repositioned themselves automatically. He gave a deep sigh of boredom before finally reaching towards his computer and starting to shut it down.

'I can't do this today.' He was making an excuse, nothing more. 'I'll do it tomorrow.'

He was always procrastinating. Of course, he got compliments from his co-workers on how much effort he put into his work or how clean and efficient his work was, but they never once complimented him on his promptness. There was never an occasion to do so and quite frankly, he didn't want to give them the satisfaction. He just didn't like doing things if he could put them off for another time. As he made up a couple more excuses to himself about how much work it was filling out the paperwork, the middle-aged man slipped on his coat, opened the door, turned out the light, and locked up his office. The man took off down the hallway just as the Chimecho clock began chiming five o' clock. Everyone else that worked in the offices rushed out and gave his back a perplexed look; were they late in getting off?

It was five o’ clock in Saffron City and among the thousands of people that filled the streets going home or shopping, bustling about their daily lives, he blended well with the crowd. The man shuffled his way like everyone else to a building full of apartments and ascended the stairs, key in hand, to his door labeled 205. It was such a mediocre number to match his mediocre coat, mediocre fedora, and even his mediocre shave which was clean cut. Slipping in to his apartment without a word to anyone, he was greeted by a lively Mime Jr. who proceeded to chew him out on being late.

'Adorable,' he smiled, 'absolutely adorable.'

(-o-)(-o-)(-o-)(-o-)

A consistent, annoying sound nagged at him in his sleep. With a deep growl from the man's throat, he became conscious and realized that the incessant ringing was in fact coming from the phone.

'Who the hell is calling this late? What could they possibly want?'

One arm violently swung through the air to land directly on the phone. He picked it up, pulled together his strength to sit up, and turned over so that his lips were almost directly near the mouthpiece.

"Who is it?"

"This is Nestor Wright, I presume?"

'Sorry, you have the wrong number. This is the Easter Bunny speaking' is the answer that popped up first. It was bulging in his mind so strongly that it almost came out of his lips. So, he swallowed.

"It is."

"We have a problem. The Chancellor wants you to take care of it personally. All of the others have disappeared trying to resolve this matter quickly. We're assuming they've been taken out. Will you accept?"

Ugh, the nerve of the government calling at this late hour and to offer him a job, no doubt. He couldn't very well say 'no' because if he did, it meant sitting behind a desk for another week and a half. It would get him back in the field where he belonged.

"Of course," he answered.

"Very well. I shall inform the Chancellor of your decision. We will e-mail you the objectives of the job as well as what you will be paid."

Any more monotone and this woman might as well have been an automated system voice. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if it was an automated system. The Chancellor of Kanto and his government officials had all sorts of new gadgets. As he thought about this, the miniature laptop he had been granted by the aforementioned government officials switched itself on. A digital Pidgey fluttered across the screen with a letter in its mouth with an "E-mail, E-mail!" sound before the letter opened itself. They sure never took their time with this stuff. It was almost like they had counted on him to say 'yes' which made him feel uneasy.

"You may use the contact information at the bottom of the e-mail to get in touch with us when you've resolved the issue. The government thanks you for your cooperation, Mr. Wright."

Click. Nestor hung up the handle on his end of the phone, scanned carefully over the information in the e-mail, and clicked on the picture that was sent to him. The person in question was a young boy probably no older than eighteen. He wasn't even a man yet. Mime Jr. sat up rubbing her eyes and peeked over his shoulder.

"They're becoming younger and younger, Mimette. Ah well. Let's get some sleep, shall we?"

He closed the laptop, turned over, and the pair fell back asleep almost instantly.

(-o-)(-o-)(-o-)(-o-)

The next morning at nine o' clock, an entire group of people spewed out of the Magnet Train onto the streets of Goldenrod City. Among those people was Nestor Wright who stood a good six foot, three inches tall; sharply dressed in a white business shirt, a loose knotted necktie, and a brown overcoat. He had his medium-length lilac hair pulled mostly back in a low pony tail and sunglasses hiding the color of his eyes. In his mouth was his usual bluk berry-flavored sucker. Mimette sat upon his left shoulder gazing out over the crowd with a formidable expression on her face; she wasn't polite to anyone except Nestor.

"Let's head to the underground first to gather some information and supplies."

They proceeded straight from the train station to the Goldenrod City Underground. It was there that over half of the buyers and merchants were the perfect crowd to get supplies from because they were what most considered to be a questionable group. Con artists, illegal merchants, and miscreants of all sorts bargained and traded in the Underground. The government Chancellors of both Johto and Kanto were well aware of the prohibited activities going on in the Goldenrod City Underground, but they didn't do anything about it. Instead, they looked the other way. In exchange for the Underground to continue thriving, the government would occasionally confiscate rare items to sell for profit on the Black Market in Saffron City. It was the perfect place to bargain for pricey goods and catch up on the latest nasty piece of gossip.

Some of these people were peons disguising themselves as worthless scum in order to report valuable items to the government officials. Those particular men were formally considered to be on the scale below Nestor, but he imagined them to be on the same level. They were all henchmen working for the Chancellors; the only difference between himself and these men was their job duties. They took care of items, he took care of people. It was all the same to him.

Only thirty minutes went by before Nestor and Mimette ascended the steps from the Underground to a different place in Goldenrod City fully loaded with supplies. He'd been to Goldenrod so many times that he had managed to coordinate his way around. Of course, Nestor couldn't do it blindfolded; he'd be as confused as the next guy if he had been told to close his eyes, turn around three times, and navigate his way around. Still, he had mapped it all in his head and he knew where he needed to go. The address given to him through the e-mail meant he would have to take a specific route to the house. He followed his feet along the peaceful street where he configured in his mind was the low-income area of the city. There were entire lines of laundry hanging up between apartment buildings, trash outside of every door overflowing the cans, children playing with old-fashioned toys (Nestor had a sudden flashback of going into the living room one Christmas morning to find a brand new wooden yo-yo which was the coolest--and most expensive--toy that was all the rage with kids), and teenagers wandering around dressed up in raggedy hand-me-downs. Many people who saw him admired his sharp-looking outfit. In turn, he was impressed that only one or two of them had acquired Pokemon. This was good news: it meant there were few that could mean trouble to him if things didn't go according to plan. Nestor heaved a thoughtful sigh. Things never went the way he wanted them to.

Finally, he came across the group of low-income houses. These people could afford more than an apartment, but still less than what most could. Every house among them was designed the same, colors and rooftops matching their neighbors, and the only thing to set them apart were the large black numbers running vertically down the area between the front door and the window. The stranger matched up the numbers of the house that had been written down on his piece of paper and stared at it.

"Be polite, Mimette. This is just business and we don't need a scene."

The Mime Jr. gave her companion a sneer. He ignored her, adjusted his coat, and stepped up on to the concrete porch. He pushed the doorbell button, but could hear no tone from the inside to suggest it worked. What a pity. The man's knuckles lightly tapped on the door which from within the house was loud enough to be heard. Nestor waited for a good minute. There was no bustling about, no "one moment" or "hold on". Nothing. Was nobody home?

"Hey, mister!"

He turned around to peer at the boy whose voice had called out to him. The kid was scrawny, gangly, and freckled with ginger-brown hair. He was wearing the poor man's clothes and riding a bicycle that looked like it had just come out of the recycle bin. From the satchel hanging at his waist, it appeared as if though the boy had just finished delivering something.

"Are you lookin' for me mum?"

'So, this is him,' the man's eyes narrowed behind the lenses of the shades. 'This must be done quickly and efficiently. I have little room for mistakes.'

"Yes, I was. Is she at home?"

"Nah. She's workin' at the factory today. They called her in 'cause another accident happened and someone lost a hand."

The boy hopped off his bike and rolled it towards the house down an alley between his house and his neighbor's that led to the back yard. Mimette, having a rather nosy nature sometimes, jumped from her companion's shoulder and followed the boy without him knowing. While he put his bicycle in a worn-down shed, the Pokemon's beady little eyes searched the lawn. It was cluttered with all sorts of recycled parts, items, and gadgets that someone living in this house was putting together to build...something. Honestly, Mimette couldn't figure out what it was just yet. The sound of the doors to the shed shutting cued the Mime Jr. to return to Nestor's shoulder where she remained until the boy unlocked the door from the inside. Apparently, he had come in through the back door.

"Come on in and you can wait. She should be home in about fifteen minutes or so. Would you like some tea?"

"Please."

Once he had infiltrated the target's house, Nestor closed the door and closely scanned the place to make an assessment. Judging by the looks of the house, the boy and his mother were both tidy people. The official also watched the boy dump his bag beside the couch which led him to believe that they were tired when they got home from work so they tidied up at certain intervals of the day, probably morning. There were pictures everywhere of the boy and his mother, an old couple he assumed was the grandparents, and not a single image of a father figure anywhere.

"You can sit down, you know. The couch won't swallow you."

The man did so and observed the boy's rough and dirty hands set the plastic glass down and fill it full of tea.

"Do you want some sugar or cream?"

"No, thank you."

"Me mum always says you can tell how people are from the way they drink tea."

"Does she? What does it say about me?"

Nestor took a sip.

"It says you're not here to see me mum."

The boy was staring rather hard at Nestor. The man finished sipping on the drink, set it down on the table, and returned his gaze to the boy from behind his lenses.

"It depends."

"On what?"

"Who found the potion."

"Why do you want it?"

"To examine it. I am an inspector from the Medical Engineering and Technological Advancement offices here in Johto. What I do is exactly what I am doing now: I visit people who claim that they have discovered the next medical break-through and examine the sample. If what you are saying is true, then we proceed to the next step. If the sample is found to be...ineffective, I go to the next person on the list. You see, without me doing my job, there would be hundreds of individuals claiming they've found the next medical breakthrough just to get their hands on some money and fame. I'm afraid that's not entirely the way it works, Young Mr. Puckett."

He watched the boy's facial expressions closely for any sign of disappointment. There was a saddened look, but the boy still had the same determined position. Perhaps he had been hoping for wealth and fame, and Nestor could understand why. However, it was clear that he wasn't entirely scheming to get it.

'That's a shame. The ones who want to do things for the 'greater good' always put up a fight. It looks like this job will turn out to be troublesome. How tedious...'

"Knowing that," Nestor continued, "are you still willing to show me the sample?"

The boy nodded, rose from his seat, and disappeared down the hall on the right from the door. Mimette prepared herself for the duty she was charged with while her partner took out a piece of paper and pen out of his coat pocket and checked his watch. This shouldn't take too much time. It all depended on whether or not the sample was valid or, hopefully, a dud. The pair waited in silence as the boy returned to the couch and handed him a phial with a green liquid in it.

Here it is, sir."

Nestor took the phial and sniffed it.

"What does this potion do, Mr. Plunkett?"

"You don't have to call me Mr. Plunkett, you know. You can call me Leon. And I found this with it."

The scrawny teenager named Leon handed his senior a sheet of old textbook paper detailing the potion's uses as well as documented experiments where it was tested. His eyes scanned over it, each successful experiment being cursed in his mind. He had barely started timing this job and already his plans to take care of it were going awry. Then again, he wasn't the best to take care of things like this for nothing: Nestor Wright had a reputation for getting the almost impossible jobs done with supreme efficiency.

"You said you found this piece of paper? Did you not do this yourself?"

He shifted his gaze upwards towards the boy who shifted in his seat uncomfortably. This seemed like it was difficult for the boy to explain.

"Yes, sir. You see, my Gran made the potion. She passed away a week ago and I was going through her stuff when I found it in a jewelry box. I asked me mum about it and she didn't know anything of it. So, I took it to the university research lab and sent me home saying I'd found something and to hold onto it. I guess they called you that same day."

His grandmother, eh? Nestor's eyes flicked towards the group of pictures set up on the table near the hallway. As he gazed closely at the pictures of the elderly couple, he noticed there was a Lickitung in all of them. Leon watched the man turn back to the phial, examine it some more, and write a few things down on the sheet of paper. When he got to a specific area on the paper, he stopped, scrutinized the paper, and frowned. Inside, he was smirking. There was a little snag that could save him the trouble of all this mess. Now he was pleased that paperwork existed.

"Do you have the ingredients to remake the potion?"

Leon twiddled his thumb like a little schoolboy.

"Er, not exactly..."

"Oh? I'm sorry, Leon, but I'm afraid that if you can't give me the ingredients to remake the potion--"

"Well, they're not on the paper and I couldn't find anything else that said it. It's just..."

The boy looked solemnly at the table between them. Nestor's mental smirk dropped. 'It's just...' always preceded more work for the official.

"It's just...what?"

"I don't have the ingredients, but Tonny does. You see, Tonny--"

"Tonny?"

The man's brow quirked which made the boy even more uncomfortable. Leon most likely was afraid he wouldn't believe him. That was the problem: where the actual inspectors of the Medical Engineering and Technological Advancements would not, Nestor, as an eliminator, had no choice. Any evidence that could suggest there was a possibility of a medical technology break-through had to be taken very seriously. If it meant a child's saliva held the key to curing Seviper poison, it had to be taken seriously by this man. It was his job.

"Tonny was me Gran's Lickitung. She's wild now that me Gran's passed away and she won't do anything but sit around in me Gran's house and tidy up the place as if she's waiting for me Gran to come back."

A Lickitung knew the ingredients to the potion? Unfortunately for the official, this potion was indeed the real thing. It could change medical technology and cure many different diseases and problems, especially with elderly people and children. To the world, it was something incredible! To the Chancellors, government officials, doctors, lobbyists, and general wealthy people who pumped the economy full of money left and right--to the people who employed Nestor Wright and his fellow co-workers--it was an abomination and could not be allowed to exist. Regardless how terrible this situation was, the official held his calm and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Leon, but I'm afraid that without the ingredients, your potion cannot be taken seriously as a medical technological advancement. I am sorry for your loss, young man, and I wish you and your mother the best."

Leon wasn't as outraged as he was emotionally damaged. Having just been told that his grandmother's potion wasn't worth a thing without the ingredients, having been hoping he and his mother could get out of this place only to have it crumbled to his feet, the boy was overwhelmed with grief. He had been so close. That was why Nestor had to do things in a more subtle manner. First, he had to remove the boy from the picture. It was always the fighter that was to go down first. Next was phase two: the evidence. For now, that small sample of potion didn't matter and neither did the piece of paper. Those could be taken care of later. Right now, his priority was that Lickitung.

Leon, meanwhile, was trying very hard not to cry. He was trying to be strong and brave like most kids his age who were commonly confused between childhood and manhood. Nestor felt pity for the boy, but little more. He'd seen a lot of loony people in the years since he'd done this job and one or two people who were just as pure-hearted as this young man. Still, he had a job to do. During the boy's shock was the best time to make his move: he signaled Mimette. The Mime Jr. concentrated for a moment, focused hard on Leon, and performed Psychic.

[Shana]

His mind was an absolute maze to her. Nevertheless, she had gone through this many times and had far more of a challenge from an old Chess player about six years ago. That man had put up mental blocks all over the place. This kid had hardly any defense mechanisms set up in his mind. Once Mimette solved the labyrinth, she reached a door that every person's mind shared: a door to their memories. The little Pokemon entered and discovered all sorts of memories, one in particular about his Gran. She tapped on it, bringing up an entire archive, including the way to the grandmother's house. Almost instantly having memorized it, the Psychic Pokemon exited the boy's mind without a hitch and fell unconscious into her companion's arms. Nestor nodded his good-byes to the boy, gathered his things, and left.

The pair got a good distance from the house before she woke up. It had mentally exhausted her as she was still a very young and petite Pokemon regardless how much experience she had doing it.

"Did you get what we needed?"

She shook her head to wipe away her dizzy feeling, climbed up to his shoulder, and transferred the information to his mind. That same dizziness came over the man yet it affected him far less than it had her. The only lasting side-effect was a slight headache that repeated no matter how many years he'd gone through this same thing.

"I know where that is. Are you prepared?"

When Mimette gave her assuring nod, the man took off at a quickened pace with her settled to rest on his shoulder once more. They backtracked through the low-income section of Goldenrod City, turned south, and made their way towards Route 34. It was a normal day for Johto outside of the city: clean, refreshing air, wild Pidgey flying high among the clouds, trainers battling here and there against either other trainers or wild Pokemon. It was a simple life for children and their Pokemon, one that Nestor had showed little interest in as a child. He had never planned on having the career he did presently yet as had been proven countless times in his life experience, things never went according to his plans.

The partners made their way along the route until they came to a pathway on the outer-edge of the Ilex Forest. It stretched deep into the trees beyond the man's sight which could only mean that the house was built somewhere in the forest. He was about to step inside the forest when his arm was grabbed with a surprisingly strong grip. Nestor stumbled as he spun around, his shades dropping an inch so that his eyes were staring directly into the ugly face of an old hag. She blushed, cackled, and pushed him away.

"Now, sonny, ye shouldna be hittin' on lil ol' me. I'm not yer type!"

He stood there with a half-disgusted, half-gaping look on his face with his sunglasses perched crookedly on his nose. When the immediate shock wore off and he had exchanged a glance with the equally disbelieving Mimette, Nestor straightened his stance up, adjusted his shades, and smoothed back his lilac hair.

"I can assure you, ma'am, I had no intention of it. Can I help you?"

The old woman acted completely differently after gasping for breath.

"Beware the Ilex Forest! It is a maze within which you may lose not only your way, but yourself as well! Heed the voice of the forest for it shall warn you when the Time Traveler will appear! If you move, you will surely be swept away through time! Bewwaarreee!"

She paused, conformed herself, and grinned at him hideously with no teeth and an insurmountable amount of wrinkles.

"Also, I'm having a special today: one Hoothoot and lantern to rent for the price of 500P!"

Mimette shuddered; Nestor did his best not to. 500 Pokedollars to rent a Hoothoot and a lantern? That was outrageous. Then again, he had heard that the Ilex Forest wasn't keen on people who passed through. He would need it to find the house and, more importantly, the Lickitung.

"Certainly."

The old hag seemed surprised that someone had taken her up on the offer, but grinned greedily and took the money he handed her. She pulled out a Pokeball, released a Hoothoot, and shoved a lantern into Nestor's hands. The Hoothoot began to bounce in time in a rather irritating fashion.

"Thank you," Nestor lied politely.

Without waiting for the woman to say anything else, he turned lantern in hand and followed the Hoothoot down the path. Not fifteen feet in, the outside world's light had already faded and nothing but the eyes of the Hoothoot and the light from the lantern could be seen. With the annoying bird guiding them, the man and his small companion, teeth gritting, hoped the thing would lead them to their destination. What felt like an hour to get there had actually only taken them twenty-two minutes and forty-nine seconds. The official lifted the lantern up to try and get a better view of the house. He was unsuccessful until the Hoothoot traveled its flashlight-like gaze over the building.

It had a very neat yard that was carefully cut, flowers and shrubs trimmed to near-perfection, and the vines growing in a certain way over the porch. It had paint beginning to fall off and certainly looked like an elderly person's home albeit a person who loved nature. For some reason, the title 'Witch Doctor' was calling out to him. He had once visited a Johto Witch Doctor and this house was all too familiar to Nestor, but it seemed different also. After all, he didn't remember the Ilex Forest being this far out nor could he recall it being so dark as a result of the forest. When he had visited this place, or he imagined having visited it at one point in time, it had been daylight. Morning, in fact.

"Mimette, get ready."

She was already standing up on his shoulder preparing to attack when he approached the door. There was a shadow moving inside and he could hear something large tromping around the house back and forth. Nestor didn't bother knocking. Instead, he just went on inside to find the Lickitung dancing around bumping into furniture here and there. The sound of him coming in caught the Lickitung off guard and it stumbled over the footstool onto its back.

"Lickkiiii!"

The intruder closed the door and moved around the couch to watch the Lickitung struggle to get itself up. It moved slowly and strangely as if it was very old. Irony struck as Nestor was taken off guard by the Lickitung's appearance: its beady eyes were hazed over and it was turning its head this way and that as if trying to pinpoint something.

'It's...blind.'

Mimette, also seeing this, cupped her tiny hands over her mouth in surprise. She lowered them. The handicapped or injured Pokemon always put up a tougher fight. One lesson the Mime Jr. had learned was to never underestimate the opponent. A blind Lickitung was more dangerous than one that could see.

"Go, Mimette!"

The little Pokemon sprung into action, leaping at the Lickitung from her partner's shoulder. She began the battle with Confusion, yet it seemed to have little to no effect on the Lickitung other than damaging it. It only took a moment for Nestor to deduce that the Lickitung had the ability of Own Tempo to prevent confusion. That was something that could be worked around without too much difficulty. What couldn't be worked around as easily was the tongue that slapped Mimette in mid-air across the room sending her flying into a lamp. It infuriated her more than anything else and she got up again, hurrying across the room.

"This time, try a Substitute and work your way towards it!"

"Mime mime miiimmee!"

The little Psychic did just that and produced a Substitute, giving up some of her energy in the process. She threw the Substitute at the Lickitung whose ears caught the sound of it moving towards her, her tongue sweeping around at it to wrap it up and squeeze. That was bad timing on the Lickitung's part to use Wrap on the substitute because little Mimette used a more powerful Psychic attack on the Lickitung. It was injured, though not enough to wipe it out from the battle. At this point, the Lickitung opened her mouth wider and let out an ear-piercing Screech. Mimette and Nestor both doubled over holding their ears with their hands.

"LICKIII!"

The Lickitung, having developed an important technique of echolocation, chucked the Substitute at its creator in combination with a Power Whip. Mimette was knocked into the foot of a table and began stumbling around dizzily. An advantage was given to the foe who used a Supersonic attack that echoed through the house. The Mime Jr. became confused by the Supersonic and struck by a powerful Stomp attack. She was squished underneath the Lickitung's foot, squirming and crying to get out. Nestor could do nothing as he was still trying to recover from that horrible Screech attack.

"Mime miiiiiiiiiiimmeee, MIIIMMEE!"

Mimette closed her tear-filled eyes, tried to ignore the pain, and summoned all of her strength. She would not be forced unconscious by a blind Pokemon and she would not lose this battle! The Mime Jr. opened her eyes, unleashing another powerful Psychic attack that picked up a large vase and smashed it into the Lickitung's head. The Lickitung was knocked over to the side, its foot releasing the furious pre-evolved Pokemon. Mimette stammered to her feet, eyes still aglow with Psychic, and picked up a fire poker from the hearth. Out of sheer self-defense, the Lickitung shot her tongue out towards the end table and lifted it up by a leg. The fire poker launched itself at the Lickitung who blocked it with the end table somewhat successfully: the first half of the sharp object pierced the wood and had stopped only inches from the Pokemon's face. Lickitung hurled the table at Mimette who ducked to dodge it, jumped upwards, and screamed.

"MIIMMMEE!"

"LICKIII!"

The Mime Jr. fired a Psybeam directly at Lickitung who shielded herself with Defense Curl. Nestor, having recovered from the ear-splitting Screech, ducked behind the kitchen bar counter and watched the two Pokemon battle. Over the years working with Mimette as a partner, it had become unnecessary for him to give her orders. She could judge herself in battle as well as any trainer and had brought down Pokemon just as tough and twice as big as this Lickitung. Though, there was a doubt nagging at the back of his mind that she could win this battle.

The Defense Curl was released when Mimette landed right next to Lickitung and performed her Tickle attack. Laughing the entire time, Lickitung unleashed a second Supersonic attack throughout the room. This time, the Mime Jr. was ready: she countered with a Role Play which copied the Lickitung's Own Tempo. The Supersonic was then rendered useless. Mimette was intelligent enough to take advantage of the opportunity by performing Mimic which copied nothing more than the Screech ability. That was fine with Mimette because she then used it on Lickitung who held her ears. As long as her ears were scrambled, she couldn't entirely pinpoint Mimette's location or movements. During the time that Lickitung's ears scrambled noises, the Mime Jr. ran around the room shooting objects with Psychic at the Lickitung. From the right came a thick book, from the left came a lamp. Mimette slowly took down the health of the Lickitung using this style of fighting until the final blow was to be placed.

Lickitung, however, recovered her senses enough to listen for Mimette to run at her and jump. Angrily, the foe got to her feet and jumped straight at the petite Pokemon in a powerful Headbutt that Gran had taught her. Mimette performed Mimic at that exact moment to imitate the Headbutt and combine it with Psychic attack. At great speeds, little Mimette and big Tonny the Lickitung collided heads. The Psychic portion of the attack sent a shock wave of power throughout the house, knocking over furniture and breaking glass. Outside, the Hoothoot jumped in the air in terror and flew up into a nearby tree.

The trees of Johto were green and fresh that year. The formidable Ilex Forest in the background intimidated the little boy with lilac hair who now clung to his aunt's skirt. She had managed to scrape up 200P and told him she was going to the Witch Doctor to cure his legs. Nestor had been born with a birth defect that forced him to wear leg braces. He wasn't very good at walking and it was only a short way from Goldenrod City to this little house just outside the Ilex Forest. His aunt smiled down at him and pointed to the baby Lickitung that was running around the front yard of a warm, inviting house planting berries with a little girl around his age.

"Mommy, we have visitors again!"

The girl, Nestor recalled, was pretty when she smiled at him. He blushed bashfully and looked instead towards the door where an older woman stepped outside. She smiled affectionately at his aunt and turned her eyes towards him.

"Are you the Witch Doctor?" His aunt asked. "Can you cure my nephew?"

"Of course. Bring him inside..."

The older woman stepped inside the house and he was scooted towards it. The door almost beckoned him inside...

The man groaned and opened his eyes. There was nothing but silence in the dark house and it was terribly cold compared to the warmth of the memory he woke up from. Slowly, Nestor sat up and looked around. The Hoothoot bounced over to him and shined its eyes all around the place until the light stopped on the barely conscious battling Pokemon. Mimette was trying to get up and the Lickitung, Tonny, was doing her best to prepare a defensive move. The official climbed to his feet, removed an empty Pokeball from his coat pocket, and stood upright as he heavily panted. The entire house was a mess thanks to the Psychic shock wave. His eyes, once having scanned the empty house, returned to the troublesome Lickitung. Nestor gave a sigh. Why couldn't things go according to plan?

He tossed the Pokeball at the Lickitung, releasing the object from his massive hand in a swift succession. The ball tapped the wild Pokemon, opened to suck it inside with a white light, and closed. It wiggled and wiggled... Could he have caught it? If only something would go right, just one thing to go according to plan. Then he'd carry on to phase three without much worry. Currently, he only needed to catch the Lickitung. That was all his mind was focused on...

[Shana]

The ball ceased its suspenseful wiggling and pinged. Relief swept over Nestor as he trudged over to the Pokeball and picked it up off the now cluttered floor. He stared at it for a good while.

'So, this is the Pokemon who helped to cure my legs all those years ago? It's a nuisance.'

"Mimette! We have what we came for."

The little creature was exhausted from the previous battle. It was good thing she hadn't underestimated that creature simply because of its lack of sight. Her partner put away the Lickitung's ball and scooped her up off the floor to hold her against his chest. Nestor searched for his sunglasses in an absent-minded manner, called them a loss, and followed the bouncing Hoothoot out of the house.

"Stop where you are, mister! You're not getting away with Tonny that easily!"

Miraculously, Leon Plunkett was standing out on the trail with his own personal forest guide settled on a branch above him. It was a Noctowl. Nestor gave the evolved bird a weak glare of frustration. How come he had to rent a Hoothoot for a high price when this kid, barely having enough money to feed himself, was able to borrow a Noctowl?

"Hey, are you listening to me?" Leon demanded.

"Young man, I would suggest you don't scream. I can hear you perfectly fine from this distance. How much did you pay for that Noctowl?"

He was far more worried about the price of that Noctowl than the threatening stance that the boy was taking. Leon removed a Pokeball from his messenger bag and tossed it into the air, releasing a brilliant light that molded into the strange shape of Mareep. A strange "eeep" sound emitted from the blue-skinned electrical sheep. Tiny surges of electricity jitted through the yellow cotton fur similar to the way lightning moved through clouds.

"Maaaa," exclaimed the Pokemon lazily.

"I have no time for this, I'm afraid. Stand aside."

"No! Not until you give Tonny back!"

'Honestly,' Nestor sighed, 'is this some sort of joke? Can anything go right?'

The Mareep started circling in the spot it was at and laid down to take a nap. Alas, some luck! Nestor reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a Super Potion to heal his wounded companion. The spray-on healing medicine worked sufficiently enough that the tiny mime felt refreshed, if only that. It was all he could ask for at the moment.

"Give me back my grandmother's Pokemon!"

Mimette crawled back to her rightful place on Nestor's shoulder. Together, the pair of them stared down at Leon with the intimidating stance of a furious mother Tyranitar. In turn, the boy hesitated yet he refused to high tail it and run.

"Wh-who are you really?"

"I am no one to be trifled with, young Mr. Plunkett. Stand aside or I will be forced to take action."

Every so often, Nestor came across the heroes, the righteous people who attempted to take justice into their own hands. "You can't get away with this!" and "How can you do this?" were two common lines that were chewed, swallowed, and digested by his conscience without shame. The truth was that Nestor could get away with it and had done so for over twenty years now. His threat of action was not empty; murder was not below him.

"I-I can't let you get away with this!"

"I won't say it twice."

Leon's face expressed the stress that Nestor had seen on many older men. They were men of impulse, action, and justice. Heroes that died for a worthless cause. This boy was caught between a rock and a hard place: between justice and life itself. Nestor took one step followed by another towards the child, each step shrinking the boy to his knees. In the end, Leon did nothing except allow the villain to escape. He may have been horrified and guilt-ridden, but at least he was alive.

(-o-)(-o-)(-o-)(-o-)

Mimette happily danced up the stairs of the apartment complex to the private door labeled 205 in golden numbers. The man just behind her unlocked the door with his key to grant his accomplice entry to the single bedroom. After a laborious job, the comfort of their home beckoned. The creature sank onto the couch with the remote to turn on the television while Nestor locked the door behind him, removed his coat and hat, and finally went to search for his laptop.

The e-mail address was temporary. It had taken him less than 24-hours to finish this job. Something wasn't right; this job had been too easy. It nagged at his gut for the entirety of the e-mail he wrote.

{To: [e-mail]
From: [e-mail]

It is done.
I have the items in my possession. The usual Café.}

The e-mail had been fully delivered. Somehow, Nestor got the hunch that he just signed his own death warrant. He ignored the foreboding, closed his laptop, and carried on with his normal routine. It bugged him all through the evening until he finally brought it up over dinner.

"Mimette?"

Nestor turned his head to his companion where she sat in her high chair peacefully, sipping on the straw of her strawberry milkshake. Her gaze shifted upwards from the whipped cream to the man across from her; he had barely touched the delicious dinner she had made for him.

"Does it feel as if something is wrong to you?"

"Miiimmmee," she answered.

Oddly enough, Nestor couldn't tell if that was a 'yes' or a 'no'. Regardless how many years the two had been partners, there were times when the boundary between human and Pokemon kept them from properly communicating. This was one such instance.

"Shake or nod, Mimette."

In the midst of a sip, she gave him a very aggressive nod. It was so aggressive, in fact, that her head accidentally slammed into the whipped cream. He chuckled at her which sent her into a furious frenzy of Pokemon language. Despite her ranting and spewing of words that Nestor imagined would be curses, the man was blind to her rage; he only saw his beloved Mimette in her one of her most adorable moments. By the time she finally settled down, her spell had worn off. That feeling of danger returned to the front of his mind.

"It must be nothing," he pondered aloud. "We'll meet the agent tomorrow at the Café and our job will be complete."

"Miimme!" With her final say on the matter, the Mime Jr. clamped her little mouth around the straw and continued sucking on her milkshake.

His mind did not rest even after the pair had meandered to bed. That sensation grew stronger with each passing minute, wrenching at his subconscious over and over again. Nestor's dreams were filled with turmoil. It was this bit of misfortune that woke the eliminator from his sleep. Nestor sprang up in bed, hands clenching the covers with a death grip, his hair a mess from the way he had tossed and turned. The dark bedroom was heavy with the uneasy impression yet Nestor felt that he was safe here at home. No one knew where he was and if they did, they were unaware of who he was.

'What could I possibly be feeling?'

He thought back to a time period where he might have felt this before. No memory came. The man's deep thoughts did not deafen him to the sound of something move in the living room. Immediately, Nestor covered up Mimette in order to protect her from harm. He needed a weapon and he never kept his gun near his bed; he had a habit of shooting things in his sleep due to his usual nightmares of ghosts or people coming after him. Another sound was made beyond the door; it was getting closer. Someone or something else was in his apartment. Nestor didn't like that one bit. If it was a thief, the person was in deep trouble. If it was someone else--

The door burst open with lights flashing right into Nestor's eyes. He could hear the clickety-clacking of two or three guns being cocked.

"Don't move! You're under arrest!"

"Put your hands up and slowly get out of bed," demanded a second voice.

"What's going on here, gentleman?" Nestor asked innocently. "What are the charges?"

"Everything will be explained at headquarters," the second voice answered.

Nestor didn't like this at all. He did as was commanded: lifted his hands up over his head, climbed out of bed gently, and gave them no reason to see him as a threat. Mimette had woken up from the commotion to rub her eyes lazily before she fully realized what was going on. Footsteps thudded across the living room towards the two men where seemingly a third person joined the action.

"Sir, we found these in his bag. It's the evidence we need against him."

"Excellent. Boys, take 'im away. I'll handle the Mime Jr. myse--"

"I beg to differ. Mimette is coming with me and she will go without a fuss."

This was a real mess he had got them into. He should have known that the job had been too easy. It also put an ease to his mind that the foreboding sensation had indeed been warning him about this situation. At least now it was cured. Mimette climbed up on his shoulder with a brief whimper in order to curl up on his shoulder like an innocent child sitting in the corner. The routine didn't appear to work on the law enforcers at all.

"Come on. Move it."

Nestor and Mimette were very cooperative with the policemen. What was the point of resisting? It caused an unnecessary scene that would attract the attention of many civilians. If they were to recognize his face later on, it would be a disaster. All he had to do was keep his head down and do as he was told; that was playing it smart. Silently, he trudged down the many steps with the policemen leading him by his cuffed hands like a dog on a leash with a team backing him up at gun point to ensure he didn't escape. Mimette twiddled her tiny, round hands in a childish guilty manner. Normally in situations similar to this, she was playing tough-girl and acting as if she hadn't a care in the world.

'I suppose it's different for her this time,' Nestor thought. 'She wasn't in trouble with the actual law then.'

He was escorted into a police car with bars on the window between the policemen and the prisoners to prevent any sort of murder or harm. Policemen had not been a part of his plan. Indeed, he had hoped to go to the cafe the next day, meet the agent, hand over the Lickitung and the sample, and that would be the end of his particular job.

"I have to thank you, gentleman," he spoke up some ways down the road. "You saved me a great deal of paperwork."

Nestor smiled mockingly in return to the heated glare that the policeman gave him for his comment. What a mind game he played. While he was relieved of paperwork, they would have to fill it out on him. Mimette giggled to herself at the thought. Now that Nestor thought about it, he would like to give them as much paperwork as possible. His interrogation would be severe and cruel no doubt since he worked for the government. Or rather, he ran the masked organization that was a sort of affiliate with the government.

[Shana]

The arrival of Nestor was very subtle as if the police headquarters wanted it all kept hush-hush. They even drove him around back to bring him and Mimette in. Several officers hurried out of the large building to line up on either side in such a way that it looked like he was going down a wedding aisle.

"Oh, look, Mimette. They're bringing out the red carpet for us."

"Mime miimmeee!"

The man in charge of his apartment raid growled as he got out of the car, yanked open the back door for Nestor, and roughly jerked him out of the car by his handcuff leash. Nestor stumbled out, but quickly regained his posture and stood upright entirely to show the squat man that he was an entire head taller. The policemen glared up at Nestor with his beady little eyes hidden among all the lard in his pudgy face.

"Now you listen here, mister, I'll have none of that from the likes of you! I don't like you because you're a criminal! Criminals are what I eat for breakfast and I'll be sure to chew you for so long that your bones will give out and be crushed in my superb law system!"

During the speech, which Nestor assumed was intended to be threatening, the villain's eyebrows rose higher and higher in a sarcastic manner. At the end of it all, he whistled in a tone as if to say "good grief!"

"I beg your pardon, sir, but I'm afraid you've got the wrong man. You see, I'm--"

"Shut your gob, mister! I'll get you one way or another and I prefer to do it while the tape is rollin'! Come on!"

Once again, the policeman gave Nestor's handcuff chain a sudden wrench to force his captive to stumble on his feet before following along. Mimette's routine nearly went out the door: she didn't like watching Nestor being pulled around like some disobedient puppy! A single glance from her companion held her in her place for the time being and she went back to twiddling her thumbs, though every now and then she'd shoot a glare towards the officer leading them down the corridors. It was a maze full of white walls, bulletin boards, posters of wanted people, and lost Pokemon. Nestor wasn't keeping track at all; there was no need. He was sure he'd get out of this place one way or another. At long last, the group came to Interrogation Room B where a two-way mirror could oversee the whole scene. Upon entering the room, Nestor smiled and waved to the people he knew were watching and settled himself into the chair that the head honcho would sit in. The policeman unhooked the chain from his cuffs, growled at Nestor one final time, and left.

For a good half an hour, the pair patiently waited for someone to come in and interrogate them. It was a dreadful bore, but what else could he do? He would simply have to be patient until the head honcho finished gathering the information on Nestor and could produce a very convincing case against Mr. Wright and his accomplice, Mimette. The Mime Jr. twiddled her thumbs through the whole thing. Finally, the door opened and a normally intimidating man walked in wearing the same kind of pocketed coat that Nestor wore. This was the head honcho, the Commissioner of Saffron City. Nestor had seen his success stories on the front pages of The Saffron Scope newspaper. He looked weary as if he had been working on a case for weeks on end without sleep or real rest. His hair was starting to get matted and greasy from the lack of proper bathing and his hands were covered in ink from pens he had written down notes with trying to put pieces together. The folders he dropped lightly onto the table between them were aged. Nestor presumed that the Commissioner had been trying to catch him for a long time.

"Congratulations, Commissioner," Nestor cracked.

The Commissioner finally looked up from his file and stared at the man across him as if just noticing he was there. At first, his gaze was blank and distant like he was in a world of his own thoughts, but gradually he came to recognize Nestor's face as the one in the file. He expressed confusion on his enemy's comment.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said 'congratulations'! You got your man! I figured it was only a matter of time."

It took the commissioner another minute or so to figure out that Nestor was mocking him. He gave the man a disapproving look, cleared his throat, and scanned over the file.

"Nestor Wright, you are charged with thirty-six murders, five kidnappings, one hundred and seventy-two thefts of Pokemon, and over twenty years' worth of possession theft and property destruction." The Commissioner paused and glanced up at Nestor. "Would you like to tell me what is going on?"

'Those are some very serious charges. I suppose there's no getting out of it now.'

In a moderate procession, Nestor leaned back in his chair with a mocking smile on his face. He decided to play 'over-confident' for his first time to go through this, his hands placing themselves behind his head. Mimette sank from his shoulder to his lap and stared at the Commissioner with her reproachful eyes.

"It's all part of the job, Commissioner. You know how it is when you're doing your job and a building collapses because of a bomb or a hostage gets killed in the line of duty."

The Commissioner showed no reaction.

"What is your job, Mr. Wright?"

"Usually, I run that big office on Leer Street. You know, the one in the run-down building? On occasion, I am sent an e-mail from an anonymous government official to do some jobs here and there."

"What kind of jobs?"

"Oh, this and that. It's all the same goal, but I meet different people, find different Pokemon and items. That sort of thing."

The Commissioner was not impressed in the least by this confession. If he was going to take this criminal down, he needed to crack the egg and get an actual confession. Perhaps Nestor saw the same serious expression in the man's face as he had once or twice in his own eyes: a look of fierce determination to get the job done without things going awry. Out of pure respect for "the plan" that the Commissioner had, Nestor leaned back up in his chair and leaned closer to the Commissioner.

"With all do respect, Commissioner, you won't be able to bring me down with this information. Turn that thing off and I'll tell you everything."

His current nemesis gravely understood the consequences. If he turned the recorder off, he wouldn't get squat on the guy; if he didn't, he might never get any information and everything would be all for naught. Maybe he could strike a deal with Nestor once he finished telling him everything. To the observers' astonishment, the Commissioner flipped off the sound in the room via a button that was under the table.

"Done. Go on, Mr. Wright."

Nestor stared at the Commissioner with absolute seriousness.

"Do you believe in demons, Commissioner?"

"I believe that there is a God, but I haven't truthfully given much thought to the idea of demons. So, no, I can't say that I do."

"Believe it or not, but there are thousands of demons, Commissioner, all over the world. I am the head of a secret bureau that works as an affiliation of the government. Me and my co-workers are demon hunters. You see, the demons have a plan that I've been working on cracking just like you have been trying to hunt me down. Something is coming, Commissioner. Lately, these demons have been possessing humans and Pokemon alike. The Pokemon that I have been charged with kidnapping are all possessed by a demon. I use a special kind of spell on a Pokeball that allows me to bind the demon to me as a sort of contract. The items that you find are usually remnants of a demon that I have vanquished: demon's blood, mostly. Those thirty-six murders are the result of a demon possessing a human and destroying that human in order to prevent me from exorcising the demon. You...believe me, don't you?"

The Commissioner eyed him carefully. Nestor held the man's gaze in desperate hope that the man would indeed believe every word that he had just told them. After several minutes of judging from both sides, the Commissioner opened his mouth.

"I find it hard to believe that there are demons in this world, Mr. Wright, but I can see how it would be possible?"

The prisoner grinned and slapped the table with his hand.

"It's a load of bullcrap, Commissioner! I'm no demon hunter!"

His laughter enraged the head of the Saffron City law enforcement. The criminal had just gone through an entire explanation, off the record, and it turned out to be a load of hogswallow! His games were coming to an end! Furiously, the Commissioner rose from his seat in such a rush that the seat was thrown back. Nestor couldn't stop laughing and Mimette was giggling herself weak in his lap.

"Nestor Wright, I--"

The door opened up to reveal a tall, gangly woman escorted by two or three men in black business suits. Her wide, green eyes shifted from the livid Commissioner to the man and his monstrous companion hysterically laughing in the chair. She had a vague idea of what was going on, but her freckled face turned seriously back to the head of the law enforcement.

"Commissioner, I am here for Nestor Wright and Mimette."

"Who the hell are you?"

"My name is Ginger," she said flatly. It was easy to see why her name was Ginger: her colorful red hair cascaded in ringlets down her shoulders from low pigtails. "I'm the head of the Chancellor's Secret Kanto Security Service. I am here to take Mr. Nestor Wright directly to our headquarters for further interrogation."

"Hogswallow! I've never heard of such a bureau!"

The female rolled her eyes in frustration.

"That's why they call it 'secret'. I do apologize, Commissioner, but this goes far higher up the chain than you can imagine. If you'll please hand over Nestor Wright, Commissioner. The Chancellor has been searching for him for over sixteen years."

"Absolutely not! I would need some sort of pape--"

Just as he started to spew out an entire rant about paperwork, Ginger unfolded a sheet of paper from inside of her own black fashion coat and handed it to him. He stuttered, gaped at the order of release with the Chancellor's seal, gabbed silently between Ginger and Nestor for a moment before ending his shock with a disgruntled snarl.

"Get him out of my sight!"

"Nestor Wright, you are now my responsibility. Continue with your other investigations, Commissioner. Saffron City is your priority."

She didn't even say good-bye to the head honcho but instead basically turned her back as the men behind her stepped in to escort Nestor and Mimette out of the room. The Commissioner was left alone to his angered thoughts and mild surprise that Nestor had been wanted by the Chancellor himself. Neither the man nor his more relaxed companion said a word until they were on their way down the street to a wide, black car.

"Perfect timing, Ginger. Did you have this all planned out?"

"You know I really don't like planning things, but I'm afraid that it took a little time to catch on to the Commissioner's investigation. The e-mail of the job had been intercepted; that's how we knew he was going after you. I was afraid that the evidence that was taken into custody would be put away where I couldn't reach it, so I went after it first. I apologize you were caught, Nestor. Now I'm afraid we have to relocate you."

Ginger was such a cute young lady who worked as the head of the Cover-Up & Conspiracies Committee. Both her and Nestor had worked their way up to their positions through hard work and since her field had excelled in deceit, it was only natural that she be promoted to her current rank. She flashed him a smile, handed him a small, yet elongated black case, and slipped into the back seat of the car. The man stared at it momentarily and opened it to reveal a brand new pair of expensive, black sunglasses. They were just what he had wanted for Christmas. Once he put them on, he also climbed into the car with Mimette who bounced over to her previous trainer's shoulder. Ginger caressed the little creature joyfully.

"Miiimme," Mimette cooed.

Nestor's escorts scrunched in to the car that could amazingly fit the bulky men and the two lean figures with inches to spare. One sat on the other side of Ginger, the second in the passenger seat, and the third took his usual residence as the driver who looked into the rear-view mirror to direct his question to his boss.

"Where to, Miss Rosewood?"

"The Chancellor has made arrangements in Viridian City. We will escort him from there to a private plane where Nestor will be given a new identity for the region of Sinnoh. I think you'll find Eterna City to be quite homely this time of year, Nestor."

He gave her a nod and looked out the window at the large city of Saffron. It was a job that erased his life entirely. There was one truth to the story he told the Commissioner: he was indeed the head of an organization that was affiliated with the government. He took orders directly from the Chancellor and his committee in order to confiscate and destroy evidence of samples or ideas that would advance medical technology. The sample that young Leon had unfortunately stumbled across could have cured many different diseases which was the reason that Nestor had to eliminate it. The Lickitung had been an accomplice in making the potion of the sample with its deceased trainer and therefore, the Lickitung was also considered to be evidence. According to research done in the past, Licitungs were well-known for having their memory in their giant tongues. It had the code to unlocking that potion once again and that was something Nestor could not have. If it had been necessary, he would have killed Leon as well. It was all part of his job and his job was vital to the government.

'Finally,' Nestor gazed up at the glorious night lights of Saffron City for the last time, 'things went according to plan.'