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37 P.S.	By : bsmartfanfic Category: Pokemon > General Views: 13315 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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37 P.S.

By: bsmart

Disclaimer:
Why the hell am I writing this? Nobody reads them and they have no legal
weight. It�s a complete waste of time and bandwidth and yet I�m still typing.
If you�re under the legal age where ever you are don�t read this, but since
you�re going to anyways at least don�t let your mommy catch you. This fic is
very much NC-17. Copyright? Ha! Just don�t be a dick. If you got this anywhere
besides mediaminer.org, the official Pokegirls Yahoo group, or
adult-fanfiction.org then you likely haven�t seen all of it as those are the
only places where this story is officially distributed.

Note: This
might be an Orange League fic it might not. To be honest I don�t know a damn
thing about pokemon and I want to keep it that way. If I make a dumb mistake
feel free to point it out. I�ve done as much research as I can into this to
keep it consistent with what seems to be the accepted canon of the pokegirl
world. Also no one that I know of has done anything with the Orange League so
I�m making it up as I go along.

�� Normal Speech

p clp class=MsoNormal style='border:none;mso-border-bottom-alt:double windowtext 2.25pt;
padding:0in;mso-padding-alt:0in 0in 3.0pt 0in'> �� Thought

Chapter 2: Where No One Has
Gone�..Recently

Alan
was just finishing the last of his packing, placing his father's well worn
journal into a sealed bag and into his pack, when a loud thumping knock came
from their door.

"Who
do you reckon that is," Misha asked as she hurriedly pulled on a red
t-shirt with the word Army emblazoned across the chest. Alan's eyes lingered a
moment longer then would be considered polite on her chest and the way it
distorted the simple block letters.

"Probably
somebody else coming to tell us 'Bye, glad it's not me'," Jeremy quipped
as Alan strode over to the door and opened it.

"Err,
sir? Lieutenant sir?" Alan stammered at the man
standing in the doorway with a bag over his shoulder. "Lieutenant
Simms?"

"Are
you going to invite me in or make me stand out here all morning?" the
slightly haggard looking veteran asked. Alan was a bit above average in height
and as such was more then capable of looking the Lieutenant in the eyes but the
battle forged hardness in them kept him from feeling the least bit the
Lieutenant's equal.

"Oh,
of course sir, please come on," Alan said as he recovered his composure.
Alan often found himself making disparaging comments about the Lieutenant,
usually in regards to his views, but he still respected the man's rank and what
he had accomplished. Like every other original member of the Ranger battalion
Lieutenant Simms had survived five years of constant combat in the Great War
and then another thirty four here in the wilds. He, like everyone else in the
village, had accomplished something that the vast majority of humanity had
failed to do, live.

The
Lieutenant walked into the apartment with a considerable amount of ease for a
man missing most of one leg. He still limped but after thirty years of practice
he seemed to have mastered the art of walking with one leg and a piece of
fiberglass. Without saying a word he walked the short distance to their kitchen
table and set the bag he was carrying on top of it with a metallic thunk. "Where are the other two at?" he asked
when he noticed that neither Mark or Touji werreseresent."

"Dunno," Alan told him. "They left last night
saying they had something to do with their friends. Their packs are still here
so I guess they'll be coming back eventually." Which was true, mostly,
Alan had his doubts about the two coming back.

"Well,
they should probably be here for this but it can't wait," the Lieutenant
said. "I don't like what's happening here, you kids shouldn't be asked to
do this."

"We
volun..." Misha started to reply until a raised
finger from Lieutenant Simms cut her off.

"The
point is you shouldn't have been asked, or at least just not you five alone.
Unfortunately what I have to say seems to have lost all meaning with the
counsel, I argued against sending you out unarmed but as usual nobody listened,
they insisted that giving you weapons would only lead to trouble."

Alan
and Jeremy both looked suspiciously at the bag on the table while Misha asked,
"I don't really see what good they'd do, nothing that we could carry and
use would make much of a difference to a pokegirl."

"The
monsters aren't the only problem," he answered. "We have no idea how
far away another group of survivors could be, most of the people who wandered
by told us we were the first bit of civilization they had seen in weeks.
There's no way you can carry enough food to make it for weeks, besides MRE's taste like shit, I know, I had to live on them for
nearly a year. You need something else to eat and you're going to need a rifle
if you want to do any hunting. And even if you do find another group of
survivors nothing says they're going to be fine upstanding people, you may have
to defend yourselves, which is why I brought you these."

Alan,
Jeremy and Misha all watched as Simms opened up the large olive drab duffel bag
and spread it's contents out on the table. A minute
later three short carbines and a pair of larger scoped rifles with wooden
stocks now occupied the space usually reserved for dishes and a pile of loaded
magazines and five pistols with holster attached to web gear followed. "I
assume you all know how to use these?"

"Yeah,
Captain Jackson taught us, same as everyone else in the village," Jeremy
answered cautiously. Everyone in the village had been taught how to use the
majority of the weapons in their arsenal and how to maintain the ones they were
likely to have to use for an extended period.

"Good,
the M4s will be good for defense," he saapinaping the barrel of one of the
carbines, "if you need to hunt you'll be better doing it with the M21s,
just be sure to take care of the scope. I'm guessing that you three will be
sticking together?"

"That
was the plan," Alan said.

"Then
take two M4s and one of the 21s. Each of you grab a
set of web gear and plenty of ammo. Keep them in your pack but as soon as you
get out in the forest break'em out."

"Why
are you doing this?" Jeremy asked. "Aren't you going to get in major
trouble for defying the counsel?"

"Thank
you sir," Alan said as he picked up one of the carbines.

"You
should get going as soon as you can and try to put as much distance between
yourselves and the village as possible before nightfall. This place tends to
attract a lot of attention and the farther you get from here before you have to
stop the better."

"Yes
sir, thank you sir," Misha said quietly.

"You're
welcome," the elderly lieutenant replied gruffly. "Now I'd best get
out of here before one of the old maids around here starts to get nosy."
Without waiting for a reply he swung around on his good leg and left the same
way he'd came, closing the door behind him.

"Well.
That was unexpected," Misha said as the three of them looked down at the
assortment of firearms now on their kitchen table.

"Don't
look a gift horse in the mouth, Misha you grab one of the M4s, Jeremy you take
one of the 21s. Grab all the ammo you can," Alan said as he picked up one
of the sets of web gear and started to load magazines into the ammo pouches.

Jeremy
bristled at the order. "Wait, why am I taking the 21?" he asked.

"And
what about Touji and Mark, are we just going to leave
them without any ammo?" Misha asked.

"Because
you're a better shot then either of us," Alan told Jeremy as he pointed to
himself and Misha, "and no, leave them a couple of mags."

Jeremy
looked like he wanted to say something but he kept his mouth shut, Misha showed
no such hesitation. "Just
a couple?"

"Do
you think they'd leave us with any? They should have been here anyways."

Misha's
protest had been half hearted to begin with and Alan's rationalizations were
enough to squash whatever lingering doubts she might have had about taking the
majority of the ammunition for themselves. The weapons they'd been given were
quickly broken down and secreted away in the bundles of gear they were already
going to be carrying.

The
town had raided it's cache of supplies to equip the
group. Clothing and equipment that had been sealed away for the better part of
four decades was brought out and given to them. For the first time in his life
Alan had a set of clothes that were new and actually fit, not hand me downs or
rough hewn attempts at tailoring by his foster mother. Thankfully both he and
Jeremy seemed close enough to what the Army had in mind as far as sizing for
their soldiers went that the clothes they were given actually fit, even the
boots though Jeremy complained that they were a bit tight. Misha wasn't quite
so lucky.

Alan
had often teased her about being all legs and tits, not that it bothered her
since she agreed but now she was wishing that it had just been teasing. Her
long legs were an asset as the pants they were given could be made to fit her
with only a bit of cuffing but nothing was going to keep them up on her tiny
little waist. Eventually they'd had to take a belt and cut a new hole in it
several inches farther in then even the tightest setting and even after that
stilstill complained that she thought they were going to fall right off her
ass.

"Well
maybe if you had an ass..." Jeremy taunted.

"Oh
just eat me asshole," she'd snapped.

"I
would if you'd let me."

A
one fingered salute was the only response he got from her. Her shirt dilemma
was solved by grabbing up the smallest sized shirts she could find and then
ripping off several inches of the bottoms and the sleeves so that they fit her
without hanging loose in inconvenient places. The final effect was her wearing
a shirt that looked like it had been painted on to her body and a pair of pants
that looked big enough for her to camp in, even her boots were over-sized and
only stayed on her feet with the help of three layers of the thickest socks
they could find.

"Maybe
we should have seen if there were any kiddy clothes left," Alan muttered.<
<

"They'd
probably fit better," Misha agreed.

Alan
shook himself out of his revere he'd fallen into remembering their conversation
earlier in the day to find himself staring at Misha's
chest as she adjusted the straps of her pack. The thick padded shoulder straps
of the harness pushed her breasts in towards each other accentuating them
nicely. She'd always complained that she didn't think they were big enough but
in Alan's opinion they were just perfect, just big enough to be a little more
then an handful but not so huge that it looked like
she had two pieces of fruit stuffed down the front of her shirt. whatwhat
seemed like the millionth time since he'd learned all the nice little
differences between girls and boys Alan found himself wishing that Misha
preferred the company of the opposite sex.

Snatching
his pack off of his bed where he'd left it Alan got it situated on his back
before picking up the one piece of old clothing he was still going to use. He'd
been given the option of getting a new hat, one that wasn't sun bleached half
way to white and that hadn't been patched so many times that it was doubtful
any original fabric remained but Alan had insisted on wearing his mother's old booney hat. He'd said that he simply preferred the wide
brimmed floppy hat because it was already broken in,
the truth was that just like his father's journal was the last piece of him he
had left, his mother's old hat was the one bit of her that still remained. Even
though they had both died while he was still too young to remember them it just
felt right to him to keep the journal and the hat close.

"Alright,
let's get out of here before they organize some sort of parade or
something," Alan said. "I hate long good byes."

"Yeah
let's go," Misha agreed, "the longer we stick around here the better
the chance that somebody'll visit the armory and
notice a few things missing." With that she deftly reigned in the mass of
blonde curls that adorned her head and tied them back into a pony tail that sat
low enough on her head to let her pull on the new camo
cap she'd taken from the supplies.

Jeremy
brought up the rear, unlike his friends he hadn't bothered with a hat and his the dull red fuzz he called his hair clashed with the
all over camouflaged and olive drab clothes he was wearing. Alan had his doubts
about the wisdom of Jeremy's choice given that even after sixteen years in the
sun Jeremy's skin was still quite pale compared to his own tan. Misha put them
both to shame as her tan had long ago settled into a radiant shade somewhere
between a deep copper and bronze.

They
had said their good byes to their foster parents the night before so that
everyone could get emotional at a time when it wouldn't interfere with their
trip so there was really nothing left to do leave.

The
sun had only just begun to head for the eastern horizon when the group decided
to go, even though the village was full of farmers there were few people out
and about yet, most of them were just waking up and wouldn't head for the
fields until dawn. The only light that illuminated their path was what was
reflecting off the clouds from the sun that was still half an hour from rising
bathing the village in a soft diffuse light, the kind that hid all the flaws
and the dirt and made everything look perfect. 'The kind of lighting that
leaves you with fond memories of home,' Alan mused.

The
western of the two gates out of the village was still shut tight when they arrived, a muted shout to the guard was all it took to get
permission to leave. Rather then come all the way down to open the gate himself
the bored guard whispered something to someone they couldn't see. A second
later a small pokegirl bounded over the railing of the guard tower and landed
right in front of them, taking the ten meter drop like it was nothing more then
a ten centimeter step. After giving the trio a happy smile the yellow skinned
girl turned towards the gate and lifted the half meter square beam used to seal
it out of the way. Like every other pokegirl in the village, save the girls who
naturally had some sort of covering to protect their non existent modesty the
little pokegirl was wearing a skirt and tube top that appeared to have been
stitched together out of the burlap from an old fifty pound bag of coffee
beans. In short order the five meter square, two thirds of a meter thick gate
had been swung out of their way and with a quick thank you to the guard's
little helper they left the confines of the village where they'd spent their
entire lives.

"So, where exactly are we heaoh foh fearless
leader?" Jeremy asked Alan
as they walked along one of the berms separating the
rice paddies.

"Well,
I figured we'd head towards the city," was his reply.

"Do
you have a reason or are you just pulling this out of your ass like
usual?" Misha asked from between them as the followed each other in single
file.

Alan
answered, "My ass of course." He'd learned the hard way that letting
her rile him only provoked her to greater heights of aggravation.

"Seriously,"
Jeremy said.

"Why
are you two asking me?" he shot back.

Misha
did her best to sooth her friends nerves. "Give
it up Alan, you're in charge, same as always."

Alan
couldn't remember why Misha and Jeremy had always seemed to follow his lead but
for as long as he could remember they had. The two of them never complained
about it and he was the only one who ever seemed to question it. It still made
him uneasy that the two of them were so ready to let him make major decisions
like this. "Fine, the city and the mountains are the only two land marks
around here that you can see for miles. The way I figure it any one who comes
through this area is likely to go through or by one of them. The city seems
more hospitable and more likely to me. It's also a hell of a lot closer."

"Thirty
five clicks through the jungle isn't exactly
close," Jeremy complained.

"Closer
then sixty," Alan retorted. "Two days, three max and we're
there."

"If
everything goes alright," Misha added.

"Like
that'll happen," Jeremy snorted.

"Not
with that attitude it won't," Misha said.

Alan
ignored the both of them, Jeremy tended to have a perpetually bad attitude
about everything which clashed with Misha's much more
upbeat one. She was always trying to get him to look on the bright side of
things while he went to great lengths to inform her that there usually wasn't a
bright side to anything. "If we can find somebody in the city there's a
good chance that they can point us in the right direction to find a settlement.
We'll have a hell of a lot better chance of finding something quickly if we
already know where to look instead of wandering around aimlessly."

"If
they're friendly," Jeremy said.

"If
they aren't then we've got what we need to deal with them thanks to the
Lieutenant," Alan assured him.

"What
the hell was that all about," Jeremy asked as they drew closer to the
forest edge.

"No
idea," Alan said absently as he considered the forest before them.

"Just
because he doesn't like the monster girls doesn't mean
he's a horrible person you know," Misha scolded them.

"Maybe
so, but it makes you wonder what was going on in the counsel meeting if he was
the only person on our side," Jeremy said.

The
trio walked off the berm and onto the flat field that
separated the village's farmland from the forest. To the south and east of the
village the field was hundreds of meters wide so that the village's livestock
would have room to graze, but here on the west side it was only eighty meters
wide. The line between the long grass of the field and the thick tangle of
vines and limbs that was the forest was a sharp demarcation. Any intrusion of
the forest onto the field was quickly taken care of, the villagers wanted to
make sure that there was plenty of open cover-less land between the forest and
the monsters it held and them.

"You
guys ready for this?" Alan asked as they paused a good ten meters from the
brush.

"No,"
Jeremy said mirthlessly.

"Not
in a million years," Misha grumbled.

"Then
l go, go," Alan said.

Lieutenant
Simms had to strain to be able to see the trio from the top of the west wall
and as he watched the forest swallowed the three orphans. "Godspeed little
ones," he said quietly to himself.

"Lieutenant
Simms sir?" a determined voice said from his left several minutes later.

Simms
knew who was speaking to him without even looking. "What is it Master
Sergeant?"

"Would
you come with us sir?"

Standing
next to the Sergeant were his two pokegirls, one of which dwarfed even the tall
Sergeant and all three of them looked like they meant business. "Well that
was quick."

The
elder Sergeant gestured towards the stairs leading down from the rampart. "Sir." It wasn't a request.

"You
don't need to be so formal Curt, I've known you for years," Simms drawled
as he started towards the stairs.

"Yes
sir, I know sir but I'm afraid in this case I must be."

"Of course."

Author�s
Notes

1) Short
chapter, good place to stop, yada yada
yada.

Acknowledgements:

Lighthawk � My designated
pre-reader, who subjected himself to this way too often.

Warpwizard � Who�s given me a lot of advice on the mechanics of
my writing.

Notes:

Feedback: bsmartfanfic@yahoo.com

Wanna get pissy in person? Come on
over and bitch me out: http://s87753679.onlinehome.us/forums/index.php?act=idx

For updates and just my
general bitching: http://www.livejournal.com/~bsmart

You don�t need to tell me I
suck, I�m well aware of that.
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37 P.S.