Pokémon Guilty and the Innocent

[K_S]

Summery:

There were rules to these little visits. He left his history at the door, For them it was Leo and Sam in an old house in the middle of nowhere. Badges, and Rockets and battles weren't allowed. Efforts at serenity were doomed to fail, for both were haunted by a history that wasn't quite done with them, and the damage that it wrecked had left scars.
Still, for a few moments it was two aging men, Leo and Sam who met, talked, bantered, and bled.
Until, finally, one of them decided enough was enough.

An opening note:
This is an old oooold fic from back in the day when I was very young. Almost one of my starting fanfics. Still I'm posting it here mildly edited as a means to build a pathway for transferring a longer piece related to it. It doesn't work without the prequel, said prequels weakness' notwithstanding. So here we are. To those who read thank you and I hope you get some amusement from the lot despite it's (and mine) archaic age.

OF RANKING: This fic is teen, there's discussed assault, attempted assult, discussed murder, attempted murder, and the occasional profanity. On the whole this work it lighthearted but there are unpleasant moments that make it's mark. Each chapter with a specific issue will be marked at the top before the title as I see fit and I will gladly add any other tags up if someone draws attention to a topic I missed.

Kasan

Chapter one​

Of guilt

Those fools, never would I have allowed... Giovanni gritted his teeth, made another circuit on the white porch, the steps leading up were a memory, and each foot fall echoed as whatever had been nesting under had been spooked by his arrival (and more truthfully Persian slithering between posts about the stair way up to further traumatize whatever had been below) and thus he was alone. So, for now, at least until someone answered his door knock, he was safe to seethe. And he did. His frustration raw enough he had to recall not to speak the words of his rage, though they rattled about his head, sentences and sensation married to malice and rambling about. They should have known. All the others knew of my will.

"Perrr..."

Hunt complete, and returning bloody muzzled as well, Persian scampered up to his side. And Giovanni smiled a small guarded smile. Affection was a rare thing in which he allowed only a select few to show him without rebuke. It was a smaller select few from that original select that received it back as tokens or babbles that his wealth allowed him to offer freely and out of a handful... Those in an entire world of millions he would return their affection in the form of a smile, or some other physical gesture.

His current companion was one of those select few.

"Perrr..."

He allowed the furry quadped to rub against his leg. Ignoring the path of white furs that streaked across his orange business pants and fell upon his polished black boots. He considered the animal's unwound tail that wiggled against the air like a music enchanted ekens. A quick glance around reveled him to be alone so he knelt, grabbed the base of the white length and pulled the creature up. Hind paws dangled in the air, fore kneaded and left marks on the wooden porch. If at all possible the purrs grew louder and those crystal hued eyes slid closed when he gave a gentle shake. He released, not wanting to cause pain, and when four paws hit the ground the Persian turned and tried to embed the ruby between its eyes into his ankle. Taking advantage of the proximity he tipped the cat's muzzle up, and a quick foray into a pant pocket had him dabbing up the red about the mouth and teeth least any see and ask questions. Grooming done Giovanni swatted the pokemon's side, a playful scolding to act just a tiny bit dignified. Considering Persian knew that they were here to see an old friend however the feline was acting -for him- very clownish, half rearing to swipe back.... And Giovanni was a bit more tolerant of the clowning then he'd normally be let the small rebellion slide.

"Merow!" For a Persian his companion was very skilled at giving someone the arcanine-eyes.

"Fine..." Giovanni forsook dignity for a while, sank to his knees and ran both his hands through the creatures pearl white fur. The purring if at all possible increased. The gym leader took some pains to avoid putting pressure on the scars that marred the skin underneath the silky fur, most of them were old injuries but still old wounds could be the most sensitive.

Persian's ears slicked back, he glared at the door. In less then a heartbeat Giovanni sprung to his feet, wiped the proof of his petting off of his hands by way of a damp handkerchief he kept in his suit pocket, and appeared the cold dignified individual he normally was. For a minute he had forgotten his guilt, forgotten the reason of his visit. Mentally he kicked himself, ordered himself to act as he should have. He took two steps forward to line up with the door, and one step back to give said door enough room to swing open. That was enough time to have his armor and shield in place. While the knob turned he had a heartbeat to reflect that armor was a very good -if archaic- term to describe the hardening of his features.

He used the term as the ancients meant it to be used, as protection and to inspire fear.

The door opened and a youth he did not recognize popped his head out.

"Hello.-"

The friendly greeting, strangled off in a yelp of instinctual fear, the lot was too weak a thing to penetrate the steel facade. There were no kinks for a mere warm word to slip though, no way for the fickle warmth of those who were not welcome to pierce the ice cold arrogance and distance that he wore about him like an accessory. He considered the run down clad youth, he had to be in his early teens, and like all youth of that age he was dressed slop shod. Giovanni met those warm brown eyes, his own eyes glittering black expanses that were scyther-blade sharp. He had to give the boy some credit, he hadn't ran off in terror. Despite his facade he felt a chill slither through the steel, pierce his heart with the beginning of dread. A feeling that his Persian reflected with the ever so slight fluffing of the tip of the tail.

"Is this the research facility ran by Professor Samuel Oak?" Because if he didn't speak the brat would linger in the door frame, shaking and pale and unresponsive all day by the looks of it.

"Y... yeah..." The boy gulped, and Giovanni, a master of reading the levels of lies that those dishonest live by, could sense no falsity.

"Where is he? I have business with him."

The boy bristled at the arrogant tone, finding steel in anger, and clearly deciding he didn't like his tone or him at all.

"Do you read the newspaper?" The boy flared, misplaced bravery at the fore. "We were attacked by the Rockets and he got hurt!"

The orange clad man offered his flattest glare and the boy lost his nerve, adopted a more appropriate tone.

"Look, he just came back from the doctor to get his injuries tended and he isn't seeing..."

"Tell him Mr Leonardo Giovanni of Viridian is here to see him. He'll see me, or at least set up a time when he is capable of seeing me."

"Giovanni of Viridian... the Giovanni, the Gym Leader?" The boy's eyes nearly rolled out of his head, Giovanni rose an eyebrow and the child blushed. "I'll tell him... Wait here... no wait inside... err..."

"We'll come inside."

"Ri... right..."

Fear to hero worship, ten seconds flat. Well fear and hero worship ten second's flat. The man mentally sighed; it was times like this he regretted opening a gym.

"I'll tell him... your..."

Giovanni caught the door before the boy in his panic closed it on his Persian. Stammering the boy dithered, apologized, but did not do anything constructive. It took iron effort to not lose his patience at the continued show of ineptitude. An apology was words, and as a rule of thumb he held little to simple inane babble, and that's what this lot was. That's what this boy was seeming to shape up to be. Giovanni was not a forgiving man, he would not forget this show of incompetence, but for now he would let it slide until there were opportunities to have it excised.

After all, Sam deserved infinitely better than this brat's efforts... It'd be something to talk to the older man about, in due time.

"Just go." He snapped.

The boy fled.

Alone Giovanni let his eyes sweep over the room. He absently stomped his feet on the faded but loyal rug that had endured over thirty years of service. Little had gathered in his boot to soil the fabric, but still it would hurt nothing to be courteous. Persian followed his master's example, picked his hind paws clean with his teeth and stomped them as best he could. Taking care to stay on the rug, the pokemon grabbed the scratching post embedded in the wall and wiped and sharpened his fore claws all at the same time. Most others would have wondered why there was an askew scratching post nailed to the wall along side the door frame Giovanni did not. It's use was simple enough to deduce, and the house's owners profession could tell tales, all artifice mind, but still, there was amusement in assuming others guessed and guessed wrongly.

As for how he knew the truth, well, long ago Giovanni, with Oak's help, had nailed it there for a claw happy Persian who was scratching it and the both of them while the addition was being installed.

"Hold it steady!"

As if he hadn't been. Still steady was a fine art when one was both being clawed at and clawed around by a destructive oversized feline, said feline slumped against his side with a purr, seeking approval for odd rituals completion. A flick of an ear and warning not to demolish any chairs was met with a withering glare canted up that better recalled the sensation of claws in his arms and inspired a second ear flick. Persian tipped his head away, looking about with minimal malice, and yawned.

Which for him was sterling behavior and would be rewarded with a treat at visits end if he kept it up.

"I am holding it steady! Persian stop it, that's me not the post you stupid fur ball!"


Since around wasn't working, through was going to be the preferred attack route, the felines eyes were glazed and glassy as he reared up , to, in his mind, better scratch. Abandoning anything like steady Giovanni staggered back, dug in is pockets, even as Sam went under the wash of falling feline, that was scratching, and missing, scoring up the wall. Well the post could be set at a slight angle to hide that.

"I am never getting a cat nip covered post ever again!" The professor yowled, burried by the drugged feline, who was alternating between malice and sleep and undecided, thus descidingly snuggling and scratching the man he'd downed.

"He's never getting cat nip again!" Giovanni swore, quest for pokeball complete he pulled it out, not Persians' but a touch confirmed it'd be useful. "Got it! Sam, get clear!"

"ROWR!" Heartbroken and furious Persian tried to herd the squirming, crawling professor back and snacked into the door frame, bringing down the partially erected rope scratch post while he was at it.

It figured.

Slapping hand over his flushed features, Giovanni groaned. "Ung... Graveler, sit on this lunatic!"

Persians screams had been long and loud and Graveler's rumbles bemused and unbothered, but the madness had ended.

Little had changed, since that visit, his last, and in hind sight, even since the first. There were certian points of stability despite the years. All the available walls sported overstuffed book shelves, twin tables at the back wall choked with odd and end bits of machinery... A door bracketed by shelves lead deeper in past this "greeting area", whose flooring was also book strewn, thoug htoe were piled in corners and the green rug beyond them was.. destinctly shag and stained near rainbow in places. The only new installation had been the visual phone, and that took the place of the old phone that had had it's wiring gutted several years ago. Besdies that and a window no less, was an empty was a black rolling chair. The thing was bit battered but still as comfortable looking as it had been when he first saw it, it rested by the visual phone, so little had changed, yet everything had. There, hidden in the shadow of a small tree in a large cheap plastic pot, were two chairs set aside for waiting. They were simple things, perhaps twin remains of an old build-it-yourself kitchen set. Normally he would have never sacrificed dignity or comfort, he had been taught beter, but in this place many leasons came undone and were took the seat closest to the plant, Persina popping into thelchair besides him. Alone with one he trusted Giovanni lowered his head into the tangle of interlaced fingers. His chin found a roost on his knuckles, his eyes found a shield in the dark behind his eye lids. There was no shield strong enough however, to deflect his guilt.

And in that quiet moment recalled a boy's words and misplaced bravery.

"Do you read the newspaper?...We were attacked by the Rockets and he got hurt!"

Oh he knew, that was why he was here. He knew of the attack, because it had occurred against his orders, and the second he had those responsible in his grasp... There would be two wrung necks and one Meowth covering for his office chair.

 

[K_S]

​

Chapter 2: Mechanics of Profit

"Stop drumming your feet boy, it's undignified."

"Yes, sir."

The boy stilled his feet with a sheepish smile. That smile was met with a glare. Realizing his mistake the boy of eleven sporting wild black hair and warm black eyes dropped the gesture and regard. The hard black eyes of his sire turned away from him, gazed at contempt at the world around them even if a curdle of satisfaction, of obedience seen, warmed him. Before both were two long wooden tables tangled with wires and flashing bits of metal. His Father might of found them dull they looked interesting enough, especially when a few of the more worn wires spat out false stars of electricity! A loud crackle snap drew the young boy’s regard to openly tip up and he leaned forward in his seat to better watch. He was taking a risk, he knew, in being curious openly… But he’d done enough in squelching his first impulse, which was to walk over and get a better look, and that was enough. He’d not be beat black and blue for this, there was media things coming soon and Father wouldn’t.

He did not see one of those eyes flick to him, read his interest, and glitter with scorn, previous satisfaction slayed.

Being the proper authority figure in the boy's life Raphael Giovanni did his best upon seeing the interest to crush it.

"Junk, toss off computer parts scavenged from the local trash heap."

The child knew the hidden rebuke, that the media would not be enough. So he rehid his curiosity by looking at the sun warmed hardwood floors intently until he could keep his face still. Pleased Raphael let his gaze drift to the watch strapped to his wrist, and once time was read he drummed his fingers impatiently on the arm of the chair and looked around the room in building anger. He'd have been less pleased could he pick out and see the defiant strain that tainted his son's thoughts. How he’d tipped his head just so he could see, if from the corner of his eyes. Because there was a wonder of what a scientist could be building with nuts, bolts, bits of computer chips, and all those other wonderful things scattered around. Looking up the boy stared at the strange orange thing in the wall, frowned, and greatly daring tugged on his father's sleeve.

"D- Sir, what's that?"

Raphael would pound him into next week if he made the mistake of being a child and calling him Dad, hearing the small lapse the man considered doing just that, but decided to answer the question.

"A telephone, unlike the one in my office you cannot see the person speaking, it only carries the voice of the speaker."

"Oh."

"It's primitive trash, only the poor use them."

"Yes sir, only the poor use telephones."

Seeing his lesson hit home Raphael drummed his fingers against the arm. They had come ten minutes early; the door had been left open for them. They were early yet in Raphael's eyes the wait was proof that the man sent to make this “fair” and “proper” was incompetent and lazy. While hardly asked, the boy thought it wasn't fair exactly, and it gave a lot of time for looking around. There were books, books everywhere. All the walls that could hold them did. All the book shelves were stuffed, books were piled on top of the shorter bookshelves, and the subjects weren’t the monotonous tomes of history and finance that filled his Father’s library in Viridian. A hodgepodge of titles and price stickers, mythology’s kept biology texts company, it was a surreal sorting system that seemed a little mad, only unified by the fact the most texts had obviously been on sale at the time, and bore their discount stickers proudly. While it looked as his father called it 'tacky' he liked it. It may look sloppy but it was a change from the pristine organized and stifling world elite he had come from.

"You would think we were poor fodder, I refuse to be this uncomfortable."

Storming across the room the elder of the Giovanni's took a rolling cushioned chair, was he… no he took it for himself. The boy dared not sigh with regret, he’d been eying the glossy thing with it’s padding since they settled in… But hadn’t been caught at that, and emboldened he’d let his roving attention linger with the table and it’s do-dads and been caught. So for survivals sake he didn't say he wanted.

Because the Media wouldn’t be enough and wanting wasn’t worth it.

Shifting in the hard chair, since he was going to be here a while, and since his father wasn't paying him much mind now that he’d resettled, the boy looked to the plant right by his chair. It was a small plant, he'd never seen anything like it. It was green with veins of red and gold, a tab about it’s stem was in an old language, the form and slant was similar to the fancy names you found in animal books, but what it meant meant nothing to a boy barely able to wrestle with Kalosian much less the dead language of Latin. He reached out, stroked one of the leaves, and the leaf bobbled up and down at his touch, near recoiling. It was springy, but it wasn't plastic, and he reached a bit harder to hold it and… it sweated under his fingers.. He smiled, released, tapped it to feel it recoil under his touch, and it wiggled away, near fearful, in response.

"Do you remember what I told you?"

"Yes sir." There was almost a pulse to the sap, and it was sweating a peculiar sweet smelling sap about his fingers. He traced the leaf’s vein to a miniscule slit and teased the frond about it, no-color sap speckled with yellow dots dripped like dew from the cut and from the leaf’s edges.

Some juvenile spore attack perhaps?

"Fighting or earth, and if he has neither then just pick something and I'll give you a real pokemon when we head back."

"Yes sir."

"What are the only virtues, boy?"

"Strength and monetary value are the only virtues in a pokemon."

"In anything." Raphael corrected. "To have attachments beyond that is?"

"Weakness."

Attack or not, weak or not, the stuff was gooping up his hands, the boy scraped a hand down his pant leg, forgetting in that moment the handkerchief in his vest’s breast pocket. Huffing, perhaps in bemused attachment elder turned to consider younger idle spite twisting to backhanded compliment.

"Maybe you aren't as worthless as I thought."

Just in time to see the boy recall cloth and dab at his fingers. Sport forgotten but obvious. The man growled.

"Stop that, you are a Giovanni!"

And never mind distance, it was easily crossed. The hand descended and the boy’s ears rang from the hit. He knew better to cry, he would be hit more if he cried.

So he never cried because he didn't dare.

“If you don’t clean yourself to an immaculate standard you’ll have to use your mothers makeup kit come tomorrow mornings interview.”

To that threat Leonardo Giovanni flinched into himself, but his hands held steady and he worked as quick and quiet as he could, an ear tipped to the door, awaiting the inevitably of a return, and a witness and the inevitable end of said witness and wondered how the fall out of a murder would affect his journey.

X

A scuffle for the hall made Giovanni lift his head from its perch of knotted fingers and tension. A click got Persian to stop batting at the potted oddish spawn, hardly mature to be leafing much less have a bulb to scream indignation at being a cat’s toy....

The feline looked up from play, bemused at the muck and perhaps recalling too clearly Giovanni sent the cat back to the door with a gesture. He’d see the scratch post and figure how to clean his paws, or a piece of furniture before that point, Giovanni was indifferent, just wanting the cat to be gone just then.

He stood, approached, even as the voices on the other side did the same and settled into coherent babble rather than a murmur that’d pierced his… distraction.

"Professor, you shouldn't be walking, the doctor said…"

"Tracy, thank you for your concern, but I am well aware of my limits. You don't live to see my crotchety age of fifty three without learning your limits."

"Professor…" The boy sighed, "Let me get the…"

Door obviously, the knob rattled, and then curiously stopped.

"Tracy, I need you to go back to the fields and stay there a few hours. Spend some time with the Pidgy with his broken wing, he likes your company."

"Leave you… with him…" The boy sputtered.

"You sound like I was asking you to leave me with an infuriated Charizard rubbed in oil."

"Well, I'd feel more comfortable, there's something about him that…"

"Ah he gave you the cold shoulder I take it. Trust me my young friend, he won't hurt me, we've known each other a long long time. I imagine after hearing I was hurt he almost broke his neck getting here he ran so fast." An age roughened voice broke out into a laugh. "Just, to make things easier on him and me, allow me a day to myself. He is capable of taking care of me if I need, which I assure you from the stance given to me by years of experience that I am fine, and I don’t."

"But…"

"And if you could perhaps stay with Mrs. Katchem tonight, that would be the best for us both."

"Alright, if that's what you want."

"Thank you, well you best get going, I can handle on measly door on my own."

"Merow!" Persian had returned, which alluded to a swift attack being employed, or a piece of furniture being destroyed between here and the front door. Regardless the feline was back, and head butting his leg. To that piece of impatience Giovanni smiled slightly, allowed the armor to slid down just a little, and stood. It was mere steps, a moment to reach out, and he opened the door near under Oak’s hand. The older man on the other side widened his eyes in surprise then smiled, setting the lines about his eyes and mouth to scrunch into familiar budding patterns.. A smile was the norm for Oak, so much so it was carving permanent paths across his face as the years wore on. I’d been a curious progress to watch, from no lines, to hints of, to some, and he wondered, idly, as he stepped back, the inevitable consequences of time and his customary no-tell expression would reap him.

Tracy, greatly daring, stared at them both, doubt write in every line of him.

"Professor," Giovanni inclined his head, stared into those steel hue eyes that had nothing of the hardness of the metal about them. His experienced eyes flicked across the man, bandages were hidden by the red shirt and the white lab coat, but still he could see the path they wound around his elder's chest. More obvious was the cast around the left leg, and the crutches that were tucked under both arms.

"Giovanni, it has been ages."

"Indeed, boy, don't you have work to do?"

The boy named Tracy gulped and after an awkward squirm around his elder, wiggled out of the hall, past the gym leader, and ran out the front door. Never mind there was a back door not so far away.

"Please, be a little colder to my aid, I believe having a hall coated in ice would make things much easier on me. I could slide back and forth instead of hop."

For Sam that was a biting criticism, and to that Leonardo Giovanni canted one eyebrow up in a gesture surly taken as a rebuke, even if it were lukewarm appreciation for budding bitterness.

"Let us start again." Leo smiled his warmest smile. "Sam, it has been ages."

"Too many ages Leo; and you're showing some grey, it looks very dignified on you."

Leo chuckled, ran a hand through his hair self-consciously.

"Men in my family grey faster than most, though you should be the one to talk."

"Too much work." The older man ran a hand through his mainly gray hair, hints of light brown threaded the mainly steal hued. "Plus a twelve year head start on you Leo, I have an excuse." The last ended in a pained hiss.

"Of course," Giovanni decided social rank be damned, snatched the black rolling chair and dragged it to the older man. "Sit."

"I am fine."

"Sit." Giovanni glared, when he did so only the bravest, or stupidest, did not obey.

Oak wisely sat in the offered chair. Giovanni snatched the crutches, propped them against the nearest book shelf, then closed the door Oak had entered from. He stood over the older man, and they said nothing for a while, both absorbing the other's presence, tallying differences between now and recollection. The in person visits between them both were very rare.

XXX

"Sorry sorry… I didn't mean to be late!" A young man of twenty some years dashed through the door, his stained lab vest only held on by one arm flapped behind him. "Am I late… no wait you're early! Nice to meet you, I am Samuel Oak, and you two must be… Ah the Giovanni's right?"

A hand was offered and with a slight grimace Raphael gripped it in his own.

The younger Giovanni's enthusiasm made up for it. There was something about this man who bubbled happiness that made it a tiny catchy. Seeing his father's gaze on him he tried to muffle the interest and something flashed in Oak's eyes. He saw the suppression of emotion and let go of the young boy's hand.

"Normally I offer parent to go in with their children to see what pokemon I have, as becoming a Trainer is something of a family affair at this age…"

"I'll wait here, he knows what to do."

Oak rose an eyebrow, frowned just a tiny bit, then nodded.

"Alright then. Come along, this way young man."

The door opened and the younger Giovanni met his father's cold eyes.

Remember, his father mouthed to him.

Then the door closed.

"So…." The young man seemed rather uncomfortable by his lack of childish enthusiasm. "Do you have a name?"

"I have a name!" He flared, nose sticking up in the air in arrogance. "Leonardo Giovanni."

"Hmmm all I see," Oak pinched the nose and bought it down. "Is that you shouldn't do that too often, what if your nose is dirty?"

Despite himself Leonardo giggled rubbed his nose.

"That's a little better." The man paused in their slow walk to worm his arm through the final hole. "So why do you want to become a trainer?"

Leonardo blinked, father had said that the man would just hand him a pokemon, and that there wouldn't be any kinds of questions at all!

"Ummm well D- er Raphael's a trainer so I wanna be like him and be one too?"

"That sounds like a question, not an answer."

"Ummm…"

"I think," The older man looked at him strangely. "We'll both have our answers once we get down this long hall. I swear one of these days I'm going to get a Vaporeon and just flood this hall so I can swim down it instead of walk, much faster don't you think?"

Leonardo thought it over. It did sound a lot faster and fun too. "Blizzard, water it and then ice and you can slide real fast!"

"Now there's an idea, why didn't I think of that before?"

"Well…" Oak hissed as he hopped down the hall, there were little comforts in the greeting room, mainly there was no ice, and being a primarily earth and fighting type trainer Giovanni did not have the means to make ice sans Nidoking. And the poison type was not allowed indoors per his physiology that made him seep acidic poison when startled. "It's never seemed this long before."

"That's what you said the last time you were hurt."

Catching the pained tone Samuel looked up, stared at his old friend intently.

"Leo, you aren't at fault. The Rockets do what they will. They are lawless, selfish, and a complete sociopathic, organization. You can't save me all the time; and I'll admit I did lose my head a bit and did the stupidest thing ever."

"You, you are never stupid old friend." Giovanni tried to smile. "You read too much to be stupid."

"I bopped an Arbok on the snout with a rock when it had my leg wrapped up. Add to the fact that when a woman said your pokemon or your leg I said… well a few things I'm not too proud of."

"You cussed her out." Leo blinked. "I never knew you could swear."

"I'm surprisingly fluent in the profanity dialect I've had a very good teacher."

Leo chuckled at the reference to himself and Samuel smiled around his pain.

"I swear Leo, getting you to smile and laugh is like pulling teeth from an angry Charizard."

"You've made several mentions of Charizard's already, what new discovery have you worked out now?"

Oak laughed at that. "I'm as transparent as glass I see.” They paused at a door and Leo slipped about the olde man to work it open. It creaked, and the sound left both of them thinking of how to remedy it, one for stelth the other to avoid irritating the hypersensitive ‘mon nestled in the area who might be hearing it. A few steps and it was beyond them and the living room in all it’s book lined glory lay before them. And beyond that was the dun hued couch that’d preceded Leo’s time on the planet and been reupholstered more times than Oak could easily count. To the promise of ease, or at least resting his leg on elevation, the professor pushed for a bit of speed. Leo kept pace a step behind him, steading him over a bit of lopsided rug corner, then it was two hops and Oak was surveying couch and pillows atop it. “ No earth shaking discovery, not yet, but I'm making a study of the residue of their fire breath. It seems as if mixed in the ashes is large amount of nitrogen."

Thinking of a few raids, a few would be heroes, and one spectacular incident at Silph… Leo hummed, taking the crutches and setting them aside while Oak worked on his nest of sorts. "That might explain the larger explosion then scientists calculate that occurs when the fire breath encounters something flammable."

"It might, but I'm working on making it into a fertilizer. Nitrogen is actually beneficial to most floras."

"But to make it, wouldn't you lose a great deal of healthy land?"

"Thinking in terms of negative profits already?"

"I am a business man." Giovanni scolded in a tone that to others would seem a bit cold, to Oak who knew him well enough he could read the 'gentle' rebuke that it was supposed to be.

"Imagine using it on areas set up to be already burned to prevent over growth, they're doing that near Celedon and a few other more populous regions."

"Now that has possibilities…"

"I can hear you counting the money already, be quieter about it if you would, it can get deafening sometimes." Sam drawled, settling himself just so, then huffing a bit as the ottoman, which would have allowed for a truly comfortable sprawl, was nowhere to be seen.

"I'll keep it to myself." Giovanni smirked. "If you keep the mental squealing of, 'I finally found something new before Elm did in the last three years!' to yourself."

"I was excited," Oak said in a pained tone, deflating bit but deciding this would do, he settled in. "And how was I supposed to know it was two a clock at New Bark, or that you were even staying at that town? Or that you would be holding a board meeting at that hour?"

"Business does not have a decent schedule, an emergency cropped up and I had little choice but to gather the head of my staff over to tend to it." Nearby chair grabbed and set so he could sit more comfortable before Oak’s sprawl, business man considered professor with dark, unblinking eyes.

"Is it always business?" Samuel asked.

To that simple question Leo sighed.

"Most of the time, yes, it is."

"Has there ever been something that you didn't do for business?" Oak wondered more to himself then to Giovanni.

In response Giovanni pointed to his Persian, who seeing the lot of trainers were sited on soft things had purloined a pillow form somewhere and was tossing his “kill” down. He settled himself on the fluff and after a long kneed looked up expectantly, tail rising, for being looked down upon meant pets and the proper pose encouraged the thought. When none came he mewed, then sat. Oblivious to the tenor of the attention Persian cleaned himself, and Sam swallowed, considered Leo’s somber turn and nodded. It was answer, and truth, enough for one afternoon.

 

[K_S]

"I was lucky." Oak smiled, he had his leg nicely propped up in a throne of couch and cushions. Ice packs were wrapped in towels to keep the water from dripping into the cast. They wound around his upper leg where a number of small bites had been stitched shut. At least it was some relief from the Hellish pain that the Arbok had inflicted on him, though the pain relief pinned him in his rear for the time being. As such, the stationary turn to his life had made him reflect, and thus the revelation of luck came of it.

"That you survived your own lapse of intelligence?" Leo was sprawled in a chair, his Persian resting in his lap. The normal type was taking after its master, sprawling in the confines of the lap while generously spilling off in sections. A twitch of pearly hide caused Leo to spare the pokemon a glance and gently scratch the animal's head to banish a precieved nightmare. That was a bad move, as the feline aworke with a “murp” and claws that could shear through a Golems thick hide and leave scars on a diamond hard Onyx, slid out. Thus began the familiar ritual all Meowth learned. Kneeding. Hissing in pain Giovanni tried to push Persian down but the claws only dug in deeper and the feline flipped to better stay on his bed, now sear, with a low growl to indicate he did not appreciate having to work for his comfort.

Crystal hued eyes met black, as the seated standoff continued, Oak’s voice rose over both their heads, drawing Giovanni’s glare down.

"Don't Leo, you know how persistent he is and all you will do is hurt yourself."

Victory declared, Persian slid his claws out a hair and began to flex his paws.

"Persian, stop, these pants cost two hundred dollars!"

"Just how much money do you have in your wallet?" Oak asked, the question was so shockingly tactless Giovanni answered honestly. And the sum was more than Oak’s paycheck, and that was just the value of the loose bills in his wallet and said nothing of whatever cards he carried..

"And why would two hundred concern you?"

Giovanni snorted. "It's not the money Sam,” One hand cradled then extracted a paw, that stopped the kneeding there, the other three paws were making up for it. One persistent limb was digging against his left side so he dropped the paw he’d pinned to extract another off his belt. “It's the image.” A murred rise as the feline slumped into a snuggle, red gem digging into Giovanni’s chin, killed the younger man’s irate tone. “Which I have none of, right now… But if he has his way I'll be naked from the waist down."

"You'll be invited to more parties that way." Oak hummed lazily, a humored smile curling his lips, clearly the earlier consumed pain pills were kicking in, and kicking in hard.

"If you weren't hurt that comment would have you in a match with me in a heartbeat."

Oak laughed, his steel hued eyes glittering with warmth and softening at the familiarity of it all. Had anyone else dared banter with Leonardo Giovanni or see him so compromised, hurt or no, they'd either be in a battle or in the hospital with more hurts. Probably both. If the young man had a weakness it was for two things, wealth and pride.

Giovanni looked around the room to better ignore the flailing feline that was insistent on cuddling. Sam’s guest library was softer though the floors were still wood all the equipment had been taken out, thus the change in tenor about him. There was a hardness to a room filled with bits of steel and machinery, now that it was all gone the room was now a mix of a book piles papers, and a table dedicated towards board games set by the window. Once it had been the room in which Oak had led him to get his first pokemon, the span by the window a long steel table with the pokeball holders embedded in it. But after an attack on the ranch the one preceding this one, that’d inspired Giovanni’s visit, lab had been transformed into a place for socialization. Of course Sam, an introvert who loved books more than people, had a scratchy idea of what was needed to make such a space work and he lot was better served as a reading nook than anything else. In the previous attack the bulk of the research facility and Sam’s house had gotten smashed to bits, a bit of idle spite from the old head of Team Rocket who had not liked being told no.

Giovanni had paid that spite back tenfold, extracting blood for land by discussions end. Still those few rooms had been the final home to Leonardo Giovanni, and it was curious how Sam had insisted the teenaged Giovanni help him rebuild what he’d had nothing to do in tearing down. The remodel had been done by his hands, thus this room’s familiarity despite it differing, and the efforts had both given back and taken things away. Intangible things, that he’d left unnamed. There was nostalgia of being here, comfort, even though he would never admit it to any, probably not even to himself.

Still that potted thing under the sunbeam and it’s terrarium attachment needed to go, a library like this did not need living things.

The living (cuddle hungry) Persian in his lap was excitement enough.

The professor smiled, mistaking spite and ire for perhaps overreaction to the felines play, of pride hurt and a show to regain pride back perhaps. Leo accused his Persian of being stubborn, well the claim was an Arcanine calling Magmar fire type if he ever heard it.

Xxx

"Now then, I'm afraid I don't have anything exotic like your father would want you to get." The boy flinched at a truth so obviously bared. To that Oak gently patted the boy’s head, trying not to worry when the flinch became more pronounced. "I know his type, I've seen it before, plus you can hear anything going on at the waiting room if you listen at the door."

"I'm sorry."

"For what? He's a petty tyrannical… erm… I didn't say that."

The boy smiled, it was different from his curious beaming earlier, a near playful grin if a bit biter and with a backwards glance towards door.. and silences not assured.

“It’s been twelve steps, we’re fine.”

To that assurance the boy cheered right up. "You didn't say anything. I didn't hear a thing."

Chilling, just a mite chilling, that this child was so glib with lying; still if the child's father was a business man then that might explain the acceptance of a trait that most found repugnant. Better to think on other things then.

"All the Pokemon I have are local specimen just caught, they have all their shots and I gave them all a complete check up."

"Are you a Pokemon doctor then? D- Raphael said you were a scientist."

"I'm both actually. To be able to research Pokemon I felt I had to know the ins and outs of them, so while I am a certified poke-nurse I decided I didn't want to do that my whole life so I doubled up and became a researcher."

"Wow!" The boy's eyes went wide. "No wonder you have so many books!"

"Actually…" Oak blushed. "Not all of those are research related…."

"Huh?"

"You'll understand when you're older. Now then why don't we take a look and see what I've got. I have four pokeballs, and what we'll do is I'll let you pick three, then I'll shuffle them about and you can pick the one you want from that."

"I thought I got to pick the Pokemon I wanted!"

"Well you see… that would be hard considering I have no idea what I brought back..."

The young boy's eyes went wide in shock, a frown took his face and he crossed his arms in front of him. Had he not been so short the gesture would have been somewhat… intimidating.

"I can't believe Da- er Raphael said scientists were smart!"

"I set up traps to catch them since my Pokemon are at the local Center getting their yearly check up. And well when I brought them in I dropped and mixed them all up…"

"You forgot!" And never mind age, the boy was knowledgeable enough of the fact his elders weren’t perfect to draw all the right conclusions.

This was going to be… an experience.

"N... no!" Oak felt himself going red, "I did not forget! I've just been very busy conducting research on Metapods."

"Worms…"

"Metapods," Oak corrected, straightening and smoothing his white coat self importantly, ignoring how the boy’s dark eyes canted down, and surly spied the sticky webs on the edges. The smears of green from scrambling about in grasses taking samples until the last minute before racing back to the lab… Ah rubbish that was Sam’s conscience filling in the lot and hypothesizing its heart out. The boy’d likely only noted the gloss about his hem and wondered at it. Though the steady glare directed at Sam’s knees, the grass stains, was a mite alarming. "Are not worms they are in a unique hybrid stage of physical development, evolution going on in place in a shell of hardened thread."

The boy's eyes were glazing; at least the dissecting glare was gone.

"They are interesting to scientists, special."

"Oh, because they're worth a lot of money?"

"No, money isn't everything."

If at all possible the boy looked even more confused.

"If your father asks you could just say… I had a bunch of pikachu's."

"What if I get a pikachu?"

And there was a sticking point, he'd wanted this to be a surprise as much for himself as for the child, but it wasn't going to work out that way...

"We could, open them all." The boy was back to staring at the floor, befuddled meeting tentative to mime shyness. All at the prompt of offering a suggestion to an adult.

"Sounds like a good idea to me." Oak agreed, and the boy blinked at him, and Sam had a sinking feeling in his gut that the this was as close to the child ever being told that he'd done good in quite a while.

X

"Really Sam, you aren't a spring Pidgy anymore, you should take better care of yourself." Leo scolded as Oak summed up the story of the rockets attacking the facility.

"Poliwag calling Squirtle a water type if you catch my meaning."

"Hugely funny," Giovanni growled, he held Persian by the scruff, extracted the claws and with a grim smile dumped the annoyed normal type on the ground. "I said stop, I mean stop."

"Merrr…." The glare from the floor was flat and promised vengeance.

"Go attack a Ratatta and you'll feel better."

"Those Ratatta's are all research subjects Persian." Oak warned the cat. "A number of them have been given TM's like Blizzard and Thunder, there is however a pile of papers on my office under the red paper weight that need shredding..."

"Fttt!"

"I may be no Pokemon psychic, but I believe that means use the paper shredder." Giovanni rubbed his legs, which were bleeding under the fabric.

Oak chuckled, recalling when Giovanni had to have him firmly extract Persian the first time he'd met him, or rather met Meowth.

X

The boy screamed as he ducked, and a bolt of electricity smashed into the air where his head would have been.

"In now!" Oak barked, the Pikachu went into it's ball, the last thing they both saw was… well that all depended where you stood. On Oak's end the tail swished back and forth as the butt wiggled and on Leonardo's end the tongue was stuck out and twin fore-paws wiggled under those large ears.

"Pika pika pikaaaa!"

Then it was gone.

"Little bast-"

Oak gave a scolding look and the boy gulped and feared him more than the electric type.

"This one will be staying in its nice secure pokeball in suspended animation until a much later date."

Oak put the small ball in his vest pocket, knowing that if he left it out the young Giovanni would probably find a hammer and messily tend to the discipline problem.

"Don't open it, please…" The boy squeaked. "First the Pidgy pecked me, then the Pikachu shocked me, it keeps getting worse!"

"Don't worry." Oak patted the boy's shoulder. "It'll be alright."

"But…"

"No buts." Oak said firmly, mentally crossing his fingers in hopes that it would be alright. "Now then, you do the honors this time."

"Me?"

Oak handed the red and white orb to the startled boy.

"Do you see anyone else here?"

"Alright…" Face scrunched up in concentration the boy tossed the pokeball.

There was a flash of light at impacts end that solidified into a very small, ragged, looking Meowth. The boy’d scrambled in place, caught the ball’s recoil before it could fly back towards the hall behind them, and in victory missed the state of the Meowth. It was wide eyed, hungry, more tan with dust than it’s species supposed white, you could count the ribs when it breathed in, and it did, to suck in enough air to hiss at the gathered. Oak mentally kicked himself, this was the one he hadn't meant to show anyone until he'd treated the poor creature for starvation and checked to see if it was suitable to be given to a Trainer. He cursed himself for being so careless as to mix it up with the others.

"Merrr…" It gave them all a flat glare, the claws were out and the small needle teeth bared in what was not a smile.

"Call him back Leo." Oak said softly, not wanting to be on the receiving end of claws for attracting the creature's attention. "Line up the ball with him and order him back in."

Shivering it stood, fur had been stripped from its side, scars of bright red hue ran across the things back. Hissing, it swerved its head looked to first him, and then to the youngest and weakest in the room. Seeing the pokeball in the child's hand it's claws scratched across the floor, the boy was going to be pounced, his face ripped to shreds if Oak didn't do something.

"Hey," Oak picked up a book from the nearby shelf. "Hey you, over here!" He threw the book, making a point of missing, the Meowth turned on him, eyes glittering in rage.

"Merowr hisss!" On silent paws murmuring soft threatening noises in his throat the small feline walked towards him.

"Stop!" The boy barked sounding years older than he was.

"Heeehsss!"

Leo was again reflected in those glittered orbs of crystal hue as he stepped between man and ‘mon.

"I'm not scared of you." The red and white orb was pointed at the Meowth. "I'm not scared of anyone."

That was a challenge, one that the Meowth would not turn down. It ignored the other thrown book and sat, almost obedient at Leonardo's feet, glaring up at him. Their eyes met…

Never had Oak seen a Pokemon and a person wear the exact same expression, there was a near audible click like two pieces of a puzzle coming together.

The guarded hostility in both expressions melted away, and something else came grudgingly to the surface. It was complicated, a bit of scorn to the whole, a grimace started the lot, and a peculiar blankness took both their features at the moment of synergy’s end as whatever was felt was secreted away by guarded expressions.

"Meowth." The furry head cocked to the side then almost grudgingly the four legged animal stood and rubbed against the boy's legs.

"I take it…" Oak whipped the sweat off of his face with his sleeve, near clonking himself with his last weapon. One he gratefully set down. "You'll be partnered with Meowth then?"

"I… could I sit down here… on the floor?" The boy whispered, face pale, he was almost shaking.

"Here." Oak fetched him a chair. "I haven't swept in an age but it's not dusty enough to be fluffy yet."

The boy in the adult's business suit smiled at him, let his legs buckle, and leaned weakly back into his chair.

The Meowth considered something, then decided to hop up and make himself acquainted with the child's lap.

"Ouch! He's hurting me!"

"He's just kneading your lap." Oak explained. "All wild Persian's nurse their young, the gesture of kneading is a Meowths way of showing a form of familial affection."

"I'm not this thing's Mommy!" The boy flared looking mortally insulted.

"Think of it on terms of brotherhood then." Oak offered, adverting his face so not to hurt the boy's pride with his smile. "He's just being friendly."

"Ouch… ow… ow… Can't you be mean again? It hurts less…"

"Purrr…"

Oak let it go on long enough, decided to save the boy, and reached up and grabbed the Meowth by the scruff of the neck. Bad move, it turned and scratched him across the face.

"Ow! Dang it, you half Ratatta offspring!" He rubbed the red line across his face.

He dropped the Meowth, who wormed around him only to better hop up and bite him in the butt.

Xxx

"Was something I said amusing? I'm not one for telling jokes."

"No… not that." Samuel chuckled. "Do you remember that Pikachu?"

"That Pikachu, the one that nearly killed me? After meeting it I take a perverse pleasure with Pikachu trainers in my Gym. Most of them find their beloved mice buried under a number of earthquakes or hyperbeams." Leonardo snorted. "How the Hell can I forget that rat from…"

Oak gave Giovanni a long look and the younger man bit his tongue.

"You'll be pleased to know that he was sent off with a trainer two years ago."

"Really?" Giovanni chuckled. "You must aging into a semblance of cruelty to set that rat with anyone."

Recalling Ash's stubborn determination and insistence that he could take the burden of an electric type Oak laughed.

"Let's say he asked for it. Literally. You might also say it was a rather shocking experience for them both. I've never seen someone take a hit from a thunder-shock five times in one day without taking some hurt. I don't know who was more surprised, me or the Pikachu. From what I heard they had a bit of a rough start, but after Ash rammed his stubborn loyalty down that yellow throat, minding the teeth of course, they have become a very tight knit team."

"Hmmm…" Leo looked doubtful. "That creature had to be the most violent homicidal pokemon I met, baring none."

"Barring one," Oak corrected. "That Me- erm Persian of yours is absolutely vicious sometimes, I don't think he’d be above murder if you didn't keep such a tight rein on it."

"He has a temper…" Giovanni began, sounding a touch defensive.

"Merow!" Ears slicked back, tail poof-ed out, the Persian ran to Giovanni and jumped onto the startled man's shoulders. "Merow, meeeeow!"

"What the… what's wrong with y-"

"Look!" Oak pointed to the hall, one of the side doors had been opened by scrambling paws and chattering up a storm was a Ratatta.

"I can't believe you; you've taken on Onyx's without flinching what's…?"

"Ratta!" The creature reared up on its hind legs, crackles of electricity flashed along its small form.

"It's one of the test subjects!" Oak gasped. "He's going to use Thunder, no one's seen a Ratatta use Thun-"

"And we aren't going to stand here and experience it firsthand… Golem!"

With the massive rock creature blocking the entrance when the electric attack went off Oak could not see it. Not even wincing, the Golem took the hit and growled low in its throat, awaiting orders to attack.

"Earthquake!"

The clawed pawed foot went up, and instead of slamming down in attacks conclusion sheepishly was tucked back down, a rumble near apologetic being canted at Oak, who’d barked a firm.

"Not in my house! You aren't using that attack, I'll lose all the flooring!"

"Fine," Leo snapped. "Hyper-"

"No!” Oak yelped, and Golem rather sick and tired of being tugged about verbally sunk his head below his shoulders and scraped a claw on the wood floor, scarring a span of the hall accidental. “What if it hit's the foundation beams?"

"What do you suggest then?" Giovanni hissed, his temper was starting to erode under the fact that someone else was ordering his Pokemon about.

"If you must attack use tackle."

"You are implying that I should not answer the insult?"

"Your Persian started it." Oak pointed out, feeling suddenly like he was dealing with the hot headed adolescent that he'd become a very hesitant mentor to.

"Did…" Giovanni realized what he was saying and chuckled at himself. "My God, a few nights without good sleep and I turn into a bratty whiny thirteen year old again."

Samuel chuckled, and Leonardo smiled slightly.

"Some other time we'll get a decent battle in Golem."

A flick of his wrist summoned a pokeball and a tap caused it to expel it’s familiar red light and in after flash’s passing the mobile boulder was gone. The Ratatta stared at where the Golem had been, seeing the hated Persian on Giovanni's shoulders it hissed, eyes narrowed.

No mere Pokemon (not even one using scary face) however could beat Giovanni at the hostile looks game.

"I have four words for you, power plant electricity generator, if you dare attack that's exactly what you'll wind up as."

"Ratta?" Nominative was twisted into question and to that Oak answered.

"I've seen him do worse." Oak warned the small creature. "Don't ask what happened to the Horsea that spat ink all over him one day."

Wisely the rodent ran off.

"I have been meaning to ask, what did you do to that Horsea?"

"Shish-ka-bob." Leo answered easily, a wicked glimmer to his eyes.

"You didn't!" Samuel gasped in horror.

"You don't know me well enough to tell for certain if I did or didn't do you?" Giovanni dropped the toothy grin and shrugged reclaiming his blasé attitude, as much as he could with Persian draped over his shoulders and making him stoop so to accommodate the cat. "Really Sam, you know I hate sea food." He looked up at his still shaking Persian. "You can come down now."

"Perr…" The paws went to flexing and out came the claws.

"If you are going to do that," Giovanni turned to his seat. "That's what my lap is for."

Persian hopped off, thumped to the floor, and waited patiently at chair’s base. When Giovanni folded into his seat, picking at the newest tears about his shoulders Persian hopped into his trainer’s lap, and went back to merrily maiming the pants.

Oak chuckled. "Some things never change."

"Yesss…" Giovanni winced. "Some things don't change… ouch…. There is a scratching post in the next room you know."

Persian did not seem to hear, dug his claws in harder and fluffed up the lap as best he could, then with a satisfied noise dropped all his dignity and plopped onto his side. Three paws were sprawled in the air the one remaining paw hovered about Giovanni's calf, warning that if there was so much as a twitch on the trainer's part the claws were more than capable of going back to work.

Giovanni sat very still. A notorious master of bargains and cut throat deals, the ruthless emotionless entrepreneur, one of the most powerful and influential men in Kanto, was held hostage by four claws. Oak did his best not to laugh out loud at the pained look on Leo's face, but by Arceus it was hard.

"Sam," Pained incarnate, Leo whispered the name, hand twitching the claws twitched in response stilling whatever the man planned. "If you could... His pokeball's near the center of my belt second holster..."

"I suppose I could," Oak agreed, sunnily. "But he looks so comfortable, and I'd hate to be the reason that ended. But I suppose... eventually... I could get to it."

Leo's glare spoke volumes, and Oak tolerated it, writing stanzas in is head about arboks glaring... He held out for a few minutes, but his fit of giggles a little in told how well that was going. And seeming sadism aside, compassion was a familiar goad and he was up and limping to the younger man, and hating his cast and the Rocket who'd made it a necessity once more. Still, when it was over, and Leo freed and bemused, the younger man helped him get back to his couch, and there was genuine gratitude about his features.

And perhaps a glimmer of shared humor. With Leo, one could never tell.