"Chaotic Good Before 10:30am..." Somewhere on the edge of her hearing, her watch's pager went off. The internal randomizer chose something classical out of the fourteen different lyrical selections it had at its disposal to get its owner's attention. A long stream of insistent sounding chords that refused to be ignored for the minute and a half they droned on for. But being wedged haphazardly between a light sweater and a pair of polar fleece lined jeans, the sound of the pager was muffled. Even the gentle green luminescence of the watch's tiny screen, desperately flashing "Message Waiting" under the large black LED that read "6:02am" was hidden, leaving the person leaving the message little choice. The painfully annoying ring filtered through Miranda's mind with all the subtlety of a jackhammer. She'd chosen the high-pitched, incessantly whiney chime for just this reason. The repeated, painfully annoying sound was one of the only things that could pry her out of bed from the deep sleep she'd been experiencing, and wished beyond anything else she could still enjoy. Miranda waited for several moments, her not yet fully conscious mind forging a shortly lived dream around the sound where she was eating breakfast and her cereal kept making strange ringing noises. At last, however, Miranda remembered where she was, and realized the origin of the sound. "Cursed thing," she grumbled, trying to remember where the edge of the bed was, despite there being ample space to stand on either side, "I'll get rid of it yet. By the fifth ring, Miranda was sitting on the edge of her bed, shivering naked in the morning's chill and looking back over her shoulder at the still sleeping form of Misty. Looking warm and content, still wrapped securely in the layers of blankets, and somehow blissfully unaware of the cell phone's final piercing ring. "Lucky you," the courier said with a smile, reaching back to brush her lover's hair from her eyes, envying her immensely. Miranda turned back to where the sound had come from, and considered the consequences of simply going back to bed. Of just wrapping herself in her blankets again, of sharing Misty's warmth and feeling her lover's soft skin against her own until sleep came to take her once more. "This had better be good," she grumbled, leaning forward to dig her watch out of pile of clothes she'd set aside for that day, "The world had better need saving or I'm breaking someone's kneecaps..." It took her a moment to recognize the number that scrolled by at her command. But the little emergency icon that lit up above it jogged the courier's memory. "Why would she need my help?" Miranda inquired of the little jumping rattata icon before glaring at her backpack that held her cell phone, "Oh well, whatever. I'm sure it's good." Reluctantly, Miranda pried herself off the bed, staggering slightly and only now noticing the unpleasant fuzzy taste in her mouth that only added to her dislike for being up that early, as stepped halfheartedly into her Winter jeans and gazed longingly at Misty one last time. In the time they'd been together, sharing beds and joined sleeping bags alike, the she had never snored, or ground her teeth, or flailed her arms dangerously in her sleep. Misty had been, as she was at that moment, quite. Content to reach out and hold onto Miranda with a slight smile crossing her face from time to time. A still, unmoving monument to deep contentment and a beautiful reminder of the love they both shared. Only now, she was alone. Her hand reaching out to where her beloved had been, her fingers desperately gripping at one of Miranda's overstuffed pillows, and looking so forlorn that it nearly broke Miranda's heart to simply leave her there. "I love you," whispered the courier, her hand clenched and held against her naked chest as she looked down at Misty's sleeping form, wondering which she'd feel guiltier for. Leaving her beloved behind, or ignoring whatever medical emergency Lavender Town's Nurse Joy was calling her in to assist with. "I'll regret this either way," she muttered after a moment, and quickly shuffled into the rest of her clothes and grabbed the cursed artifact she called a cell phone before quietly leaving the room and heading downstairs. *** The kitchen was filled with dull gray light as she walked in, the cold linoleum beneath her feet reminding Miranda that she needed a new pair of woolen socks. And as she punched the numbers reluctantly into her cell, she spotted the large wooden container Bob often kept full of his left over baked goods. "Joy?" she asked into her phone, using only the right side of her brain, as the left couldn't muster the will to be polite that early in the morning. "Ms. Lilcamp?!" came the desperate, and all too loud voice of the para- veterinarian, the sounds of the ocean intersplaced by other muttered voices that sounded gruff yet equally worried, "Oh good! I'm so glad you're up. I need you to bring your gastly down to the South Beach. There's been an accident." "He's a haunter now," the courier corrected, wincing as she turned down the volume and pulled open the small door hopefully, "Why, what's happened?" "Um, I need someone who- Oh! Hold on!" Joy replied, her voice suddenly muffled as she yelled at someone half incoherently before returning to Miranda, "I need someone who can put pokemon to sleep." "Gee, thanks," Miranda chuckled wryly, smiling happily as she yanked a reasonably fresh crescent roll out and took a bite. "No, I mean I need a pokemon with hypnosis!" "What's wrong with Morticia?" Miranda asked, opening the fridge and shivering as she held the phone between her shoulder and cheek in order to grab out the large pitcher of orange juice she found. "Um, the dewgong hit her pretty hard the moment she tried to 'sing'," Joy explained, her tone becoming more worried, "I had to 'return' her, and she'll be down for at least a few hours..." "So why me?" Miranda asked, stuffing the rest of her crescent roll into her mouth and chewing as quickly as she could, "Why not Zack or somebody? Or just get a tranque-rifle brought over?" "His injuries are quite extensive," Joy explained as Miranda tilted her head back and poured the orange juice straight into her mouth, not caring as some of it dribbled down her cheeks and landed on her gray woolen socks after dripping off her chin, "The drug could kill him. Also, um... You're the only one who's answered the call. Sorry." "Eh, no problem," Miranda assured her, setting down the mostly empty container on the counter and trying to belch as quietly as she could into her hand, "I can be there in less than five." "Great!" exclaimed Nurse Joy, unaware that the cell phone was already lying on the island counter next to the orange juice, slowly spinning in place as Miranda hurried out the front door... *** It wasn't the first time Miranda had wished her glasses were photosensitive as the wind stung her eyes into tearing up, but that morning ranked fairly high upon the list. The sun above seemed as cold, and harsh as the stiff breeze off of the water, yet its blinding rays of pale yellow light seemed far more offensive than the icy chill that cut through her Fall courier jacket as she rode her mountain bike recklessly down the front porch steps. "I hate days like this," she muttered rhetorically, standing on her pedals to make better time as she sped away from 1313 Mockingbird Lane, and cut through her neighbor's yard to reach the road leading to Route 12 quicker, "Why can't bright and sunny days be warm, and cold days be dark and dreary?" There seemed no answer, even as she skidded to a halt before the winding staircase and left her mountain bike to clatter noisily to the ground as she took the stairs two at a time. As she went, she glanced up at the mob of seabirds, both mundane and pokemon circling overhead and wondered if she wasn't too late. But as Miranda reached the halfway mark, a shouted warning broke Miranda from her reverie, causing her to react without thinking. With a panicked shout, the courier leapt over the side of staircase, gripping the railing at the next landing as a cone of strange, multicoloured light enveloped the entire flight of steps she'd been using. A second alter, and the now shimmering wooden stairs shattered into splinters, having reached a temperature that neared absolute zero. "Aurora Beam?" Miranda pondered, glancing down below her dangling feet and out across the beach to where a crowd of fisherman cowered behind a determined looking woman in a long black cloak. "Nurse Joy!" Miranda called from her precarious position, swinging her legs forward and dropping down onto the next landing below, "What's with that thing?!" The para-vet glanced over her shoulder with a worried expression as Miranda sprinted down the stairs and the wounded pokemon that rested several meters away from her fired off another blast of unnatural cold. "Run!" the woman called as Miranda ducked under the cone of prismatic light and rolled painfully down the next flight of stairs, "We'll try and distract it!" "I should be running back up!" Miranda muttered, staggering to her feet and hoping the sharp pain in her ankle was nothing serious. "Come on! Over here!" called the men down on the beach, suddenly running towards the water waving his hands as the large aquatic mammal growled angrily and targeted him with a crackling blue ice beam. "Oh, my heroes," said Miranda wryly before slipping and taking the last flight of steps sliding on her bottom until the cold sand of the beach stopped her. "Just great," she grumbled as Joy ran over to her, the woman's heavy cloak billowing, and thankfully arachnid free. "Are you okay?" the para-veterinarian asked, grabbing Miranda's arm and pulling her to her feet with surprising strength. "I'll live," Miranda replied, eyeing the several canisters on Joy's utility belt hopefully, "But if you have any of those left after we're done here, I think I sprained my ankle." Joy nodded sympathetically, and looked all the more worried as she helped Miranda limp closer to the scene. "If not, I'll get you a new one myself," the woman assured, helping Miranda to sit-down as she used a simple trick of prestidigitation to summon Wraith's gray/black pokeball to her hand. "Wraith," she whispered into it as the dewgong turned to face her, it's single pointed horn glowing dangerously as several of the fishermen stood to block his view, "Stealth mode." There was a gentle hiss as the ball clicked open and Wraith materialized invisibly a short distance away. 'You're hurt,' came his voice in Miranda's mind, his tone sounding suspicious as he survived the scene. "It's nothing," his trainer whispered, activating a second, purple/white ball that released Nezumi, "Right now, we have a job to do." The little rattata materialized out of the crimson glow yawning broadly and rubbing his eyes with his free hand. As he stood upon his haunches, a loose fitting white bathrobe about his tiny shoulders and a large mug of steaming liquid in his right paw, Nezumi looked up at Miranda with the one eye he seemed to be able to open and all but glared up at her. "Eeesshcheeeetthhh," he replied dryly, and incomprehensively, his tone sounding dry, hollow, and just a little pained. "Sorry, dear," Miranda replied, petting his head affectionately as she spoke, "But I need your help. You have a way with words, and I need you to distract that thing over there long enough for Wraith to put him to sleep. Okay?" Nezumi nodded warily, his whiskers drooping as he knocked back the rest of his coffee and tossed the mug away, discarding the robe before scampering compliantly off to assess the situation... *** "Whoa!" the rattata exclaimed as he broke through the crowd and came to a skidding halt before the wall of rubber booted feet, "What the heck happened to you?!" The nearly six-foot long, two hundred and sixty-five pounds of blubber, wrapped in sleek white fur, and topped with a long, unicorn style horn upon it's forehead, backed up by two eighteen inch long tusks that sprouted from its upper jaw, turned his attention to Nezumi, and let out an angry yell. "Stay back!" the dewgong roared, slamming his huge front flippers down upon the sand as he tried to pull his bulk forward. "Hey, uh, like, no problemo, guy!" assured Nezumi, sitting back on his haunches and waving his forepaws dismissively, "I, uh, I'm just here ta talk." "I- I have nothing to say to you, traitor!" the aquatic mammal spat, wincing as the enormous tear in his side sent another wave of pain through him, and more of his lifeblood stained the cold sand, "You- You have the stench of humans upon you! Keep your distance or I'll blast you just like the other one!" "Aw, come on now," laughed Nezumi, hoping that Wraith wasn't just standing around siphoning off the dewgong's pain, "Human's ain't that bad. Heck, if it weren't for the Boss Lady, I'd be lunch for some persian by now! And do you know what the life expectancy of my kind is in the wild? Practically nil! And ya eat a whole lot better with a human as your master, let me tell ya! Wow! Why'll never forget that wheal of cheese I got for my birthday last year-!" "Enough!" the wounded pokemon yelled, the end of his horn glowing brighter with a swirling rainbow coloured light, "No more lies! Humans did this to me! And now I'm taking as many of you down with me as I ca-!" The light suddenly faded as the dewgong went slack jawed and his head dropped to one side. A moment later, and Nurse Joy ran over to the loudly snoring dewgong wielding a white cylinder with strange red markings that Nezumi half recognized. "'Bout freakin' time Fang Face!" the rattata exclaimed, clutching his heart as his pulse raced in his ears, "I thought I was done for!" "Eh, death ain't THAT bad," replied the haunter with a shrug, "It's just the actual 'dying' part that sucks..." *** "Nanites do your thing," the para-vet muttered in a worried tone as she sprayed the clear liquid over the wound, immediately causing the blood to clot and the entire injury take on a peculiar sheen. "Will he live?" Miranda inquired, limping over before sitting back down in front of the beast and petting his head concernedly, "Misty'll have a fit if he doesn't pull through." Joy nodded before waving for the fishermen to disperse. "I wouldn't worry," she replied, "I've seen motor boats do worse things to water-types and have them live." "A boat did this?" the courier pondered, noticing for the first time the way the long gash was actually made of several unpleasant cuts along the dewgong's left flank, each connecting in a gruesome spiraling pattern. "Probably some tourist," Joy explained, "Some of the fishermen saw them, coming up from Maiden's Peak in one of those boats they rent out for day trips. When they hit the dewgong, they just laughed. Something about 'one more ghost for the Tower' apparently... Must not be from around here." "Psychos," Miranda muttered bitterly, shaking her head at the audacity of some humans, "No respect for life." "It happens," the para-vet replied, taking a second canister off her belt, "Now if you could just roll up your pant leg...?" *** "Home at last," Miranda sighed as she quietly turned the handle and opened her bedroom door, smiling as she heard the slow, steady sounds of Misty's quiet breathing. 'Miss me?' the courier thought to herself with a smile before sliding back out of her clothes and sitting on the edge of the bed to examine her ankle. 'They do good work,' she pondered, rotating her foot experimentally, and wondering how many treatments the dewgong would need before his injuries were fully healed, 'I hope Uncle Frank finds those reckless tourists, though. I'd hate to have to do that again!' Miranda sighed, stretching out her wary limbs as she recalled having to climb past the broken sections of stairwell to get back to her bike, and being thankful that even though most people still had to get up to change the channel on the TV, at least they could heal a sprained ankle in a matter of seconds. "Miri...?" came Misty's quiet voice as her hand touched Miranda's arm, bringing a smile to her lips. "Right here, dearest," she assured, pulling back the covers as Misty opened her eyes slightly, smiling back and holding open her arms as Miranda approached, "You okay?" Misty nodded. "I was just dreaming," she yawned, sighing contentedly as she felt Miranda's arms encircle her once more, "That you were gone..." "Duty calls now and then," Miranda replied, but Misty had already fallen asleep again, her expression seeming somehow happier than when she had left. "Alright then," the courier mused, slipping off her glasses and setting them on the nightstand, before snuggling closer and shivering as her lover's warmth chased away the chill of her skin, "I'll tell ya later. Goodnight again, my love..."
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