In twenty-nine years of living, Ethan had made mistakes. Thankfully, none of them involved Team Rocket and a convoluted plan, a stand to sell things, and overeagerness… until now.

  “James!” Jessie barked in a tone that would put some military sergeants to shame. “Ten Orans! Two Sitris! Two bags of Berry Blue Drops! And for the love of everything you hold dear, where are those Leppas!?”

  “One—One second, Jess! Give me a moment!” James replied, rushing between the different sections of berries as even more trainers lined up to order.

  Although he knew that the Rockets were good at what they did, he never truly internalized the gusto at which they’d summon to achieve what they wanted. This could be attributed to an oversight on his part—maybe even a way for Jessie to get back at him for not ordering uniforms. He regretted that choice now, though he’d never admit it.

  Mysteriously, when they had arrived before dawn, their stand ’just so happened to be’ in prime real estate… and there was a confused stand owner who complained about why their own stall had moved off somewhere else. James, smooth talker when he had to be (surprisingly), managed to convince the poor previous owner of their spot that everything was somehow okay.

  Next, Jessie, in her infinite wisdom, decided that if they weren’t going to have uniforms to attract customers in a professional manner, then she’d draw in a crowd herself. Even though it was autumn, nearly winter, Jessie was wearing very revealing clothing. He would swear that he almost injured his neck from the whiplash the double take gave him. Was it coincidence that all these sixteen to twenty year old male trainers were lining up at their stand to order berries so early in the morning? Some even arriving in groups of two to three with excited chatter? While other stall owners, who included old grannies, glared at them in distaste?

  No… No, he thinks not. It was probably the copious cleavage on full display without a hint of shame.

  And to top everything off, even though this was technically his stall, he had been deemed unworthy to participate in the selling of his own goddamn berries.

  “Too slow!” Meowth had judged.

  “The customers are not your friend!” James declared, hand waving around at the crowd ogling Jessie. “You ‘counted’ the wrong amount of berries?! What are we? A charity?!”

  “Stand to the side and look pretty with your pokemon. You’re done.” Was the nail in the coffin from Jessie.

  So, relegated to the sidelines with his pokemon side-eyeing him with a mix of pity and wondering if they could roam about and get in trouble, Ethan watched on with his lips pressed into a thin line.

  He should’ve been happy with the amount of money they were surely making, but some part of him felt put out at the fact that he was seen as a detriment to ‘The Plan’. And the worst part was that he somewhat agreed with their assessment. He was slow, and that only got more apparent when trying to chat with the customers about their journey and their pokemon. He didn’t have the skill set to jump into the fray with these three experienced salesmen (criminals), and that rubbed his pride the wrong way.

  Perhaps it was a difference in mindset. Ethan had looked at this trip like a small excursion to see something other than the same old grass and trees. With a side of making money and helping out trainers who would hopefully stop by his ranch. The Rockets saw this as a business opportunity—hard stop. They weren’t here to primarily make friends or enjoy themselves, although they did look to be enjoying shaking down these trainers for all that they were willing to spend. They were here to profit.

  Deciding that he wasn’t accomplishing anything at the stand, Ethan started to pack up a few things to get on with another goal he had. In the games, Floaroma Town was the location of Combee—Well, the flower fields at least. If he could find a female or an already situated hive of a Vespiqueen and convince them to stay at his ranch, then he’d have an endless stream of honey and even more pokemon to make his ranch more of an icon and destination.

  One of the major faults of Berry Falls was its location. Hardly anyone ever came up the small path to visit unless they absolutely needed to use the Pokemon Center. There was a sign at the fork in the route, but that was about all the normal trainer would hear about his business. He really wanted people to stop by and see all that he’d accomplished…

  As Ethan returned the majority of his pokemon, leaving only Chatot out to ride on his right shoulder, James swept by in the process of picking out more berries for some customers. Ethan almost ran into the man, but as he was about to speak, he heard James’ warning. “Don’t go. We’re being watched.”

  Ethan turned his head—

  “Don’t look around. Three stalls over and across the street. The alleyway. Stay put.”

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  Then, without his hurried and harried look ever fading, acting like nothing was wrong whatsoever, James returned to the customer with berries in hand.

  Trusting James to not mess with him about something so serious, Ethan didn’t look towards the watcher, lest they be aware of his notice.

  Chatot didn’t share that sentiment. With a harsh flap of her wings, she lifted off into the air much to the enjoyment of a few trainers. Ethan watched her soar up onto a nearby building and waddle over to the edge to look down on whoever was watching them. An agonizing minute later, she flew back down and landed softly back into her rightful place.

  “Do that risky shit again and I’ll give your spot to Pachirisu.” Ethan warned, his heart thudding in his chest. If she’d gotten caught—or worse—then he wouldn’t have known what to do with himself.

  Chatot lifted a wing and preened one of her feathers, beak hidden within her fluff. “Two people. Adults. Shady.”

  Ethan turned away from the alleyway and acted like he was watching Jessie, James, and Meowth work. “Descriptions?” He asked Chatot.

  His bird shuffled her feet, scooting a few inches over and back as she thought about the words she wanted to say. “Man. Green hair. Woman. Golden hair. Long like Jessie.”

  A man and a woman? That didn’t give him much to work with.

  “Did they have any pokemon? If so, what did they look like?”

  Chatot hemmed and hawed before finally answering. “Big ratta.”

  Big ratta?

  “Was it purple? A Rattata?” Ethan asked. They were common enough pokemon. He’d seen a handful in the past few hours out and about with their trainers.

  Chatot shook her head. “Big. Tan. Big teeth.”

  “A Raticate?!” He whisper shouted, earning a shrug from Chatot. It was obvious that it wasn’t a pokemon his overly unconcerned bird was overly familiar with.

  Raticate, unlike Rattata, were not nearly as common. He couldn’t even remember seeing one, ever. Nobody nearby was making a scene about it, if it was in sight. So, it must not be that uncommon. He imagined if they whipped out a little Gible people would freak.

  “Keep an eye on them, but don’t let them know you’re watching—”

  Chatot began opening her wings to fly away, and Ethan stopped what he was saying to catch her and hold her against his chest. “From here. They could be dangerous.”

  “They are.” Meowth muttered from his feet, causing Ethan to nearly jump from being startled. “Stick around. They won’t be tryin’ nothin’. Not here in public, at least. Call your interpol guy. Tell’em Butch and Cassidy are here snooping around. He’ll know who they are.”

  Butch and mother fucking Cassidy?!

  “Butch and mother fucking Cassidy?!” Ethan hissed. “I know who they are. And I also know who they work for. If they’re here now, then they knew to be here. I think we both know who they answer too. This isn’t some coincidence.”

  “Nope. It’s not.” Meowth shrugged, acting nonchalant. “Call your guy.”

  And so he did. After taking a few steps back, Ethan whipped out his phone and graced Looker with another disappointing phone call. Truly, Ethan was starting to feel bad for the agent.

  “Hey Looker, did you hear that conversation?” Ethan said right as the call connected.

  “Sadly, I do not monitor your phone twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, Ethan. So, no. Also, I’m not too old to use emoticons, I checked.”

  After a few empty blinks from the random one hundred and eighty degree pivot in his mental state, Ethan carried on like he didn’t just hear that. “Well, as you know, I am in Floaroma Town.”

  “Yes…”

  “Butch and Cassidy are here. They’re a part of Team—”

  “Hang tight.”

  *Click*

  The next few minutes passed by in what Ethan could best describe as an unknown tense. Everyone around was happy, content, shopping with their partners—just going about their day, completely unaware that active, legitimately bad members of Team Rocket were amongst them. This taught feeling unraveled when a blonde man strolled past the lines of customers, slipping through the gap between stands to casually approach Ethan.

  Instinctually, Ethan was about to freak out about some random person approaching, but the man subtly held up a hand to stop his outburst. “Agent Laurent.” The man said, introducing himself. “Looker had me set-up nearby. Where are they?”

  Ethan’s phone vibrated, signalling an incoming text. He ignored it for now. “The alleyway. Three stalls down and across the street. They have a Rattacate with them. I think they also have a Sableye… but I might be wrong.”

  Ethan’s phone rang, Emolga’s voice frantically calling out with excitement. With a quick tab, he muted the call and listened to the agent. “Stay put. We’ll get this sorted quietly and cleanly. Good job calling.”

  Before Ethan could even respond, the man turned and casually walked away off down the street and then into the alleyway.

  Now that he had some time and things seemed to be out of his hands, Ethan checked his phone. The missed call was from Looker. Bringing up the text made his heart feel like it was dumped into a bucket of ice.

  “I did not send him. Leave. Now.”

  “What..?”

  And, of course, his damn empathy ability was doing its rounds. Nearby pokemon stared and slowed, causing a blockage in the street. Confused trainers stared at their partners and followed their gazes to look directly at him. Meowth was grimacing, and Chatot… Chatot was pretending everything was okay.

  “Ethan Reed?” A voice calmly called out through the confused mutters of passerbys.

  A group of two men and a single woman strolled into his stall, their attire casual for a trainer. “L sent us. What can you tell us?”

  Ethan’s phone rang, and instead of ignoring it, he quickly answered. “Tell me good news.”

  “I sent those three. I did not send Agent Laurent. If you see him again in the future, be careful and do what you need to do to protect yourself. Hand your phone to Agent Simmons.”

  Ethan lowered his phone. “Who’s Simmons?”

  The brunette woman raised a hand, and Ethan handed his phone over. As Agent Simmons and Looker talked, Ethan turned to Jessie, James, and Meowth, finding that they were already packing up.

  Feeling his attention, James spoke without even turning. His voice despondent. “Sorry.”

  Sorry? It’s not your fault…

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