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It was always the quiet ones.
Grimsley couldn't say he hadn't seen it coming. After all, there had long been rumors afoot. Rumors that, in addition to her world-renowned epics, the soft-spoken, bookish Shauntal was secretly a purveyor of—ahem—adult literature.
Shauntal could deny them all she wanted, but he knew better. She had a touch of that naughty librarian look about her, did she not? And some might call him overly suspicious, but did she truly expect people to believe she was up till three in the morning every night penning heartwarming tales of the bonds between trainers and their Pokémon?
Yeah, right. And he hit up the casino five nights a week for the ambiance.
Perhaps the others could be fooled. Marshal was far too trusting. Iris was still a child. Caitlin was asleep more often than not.
But Grimsley? He didn't buy it. What else could explain why she scrambled to shield her stories from his view when he stumbled through the door of her study after gambling well into the early hours?
There was no doubt in his mind. Those were no ordinary stories she was working on.
And that was hardly the only rumor going around. He'd also heard mumblings that Shauntal was harboring somewhat of a crush on him, for lack of a less juvenile way to put it. According to Caitlin, whose psychic abilities seemed to know no bounds (or maybe she'd simply talked to Shauntal—a very real possibility), that rumor was as accurate as could be.
Besides, Grimsley wasn't blind. He'd noticed how she turned several different shades of pink and struggled to meet his eyes when he so much as leaned across her desk. To put it bluntly, the girl was crazy about him.
So it was no wonder what he thought when she invited herself into his chambers one evening, carrying what appeared to be an as-of-yet unpublished book of hers.
"To what do I owe this pleasure?"
Shauntal took his words as an invitation to join him, trailing slim fingers down the black leather couch as she seated herself at his side. "I wanted to show you what I did last night."
"And what might that be?" Grimsley met her tentative smile with a devilish grin of his own.
"I wrote a short story. It's about you."
It wasn't that kind of story.
It couldn't be. The thought of it was preposterous. He was merely jumping to the wildest of conclusions, an unfortunate consequence of allowing his mind to sink deep into the gutter.
What Shauntal subjected her characters to was one thing, but she would never go so far as to chronicle her own romantic fantasies. This was absolutely, unquestionably, most definitely not some kind of erotic novel.
"You can read it, if you'd like." She held out the loosely bound pages with a wavering hand, and the title caught his eye.
In the Dark: Twenty Minutes of Utter Domination.
It was an erotic novel.
He shook his head in disbelief, inching away from Shauntal with each passing moment. "No, thanks. I'm good."
It wasn't the content that bothered him. There wasn't much that shocked Grimsley these days. The sights he'd seen at the back-alley establishments he frequented for a quick poker fix now and again would make anyone pale in the face.
And it certainly wasn't Shauntal. Bookworm or not, there was something about her. He'd be lying if he said she hadn't inspired a few fantasies of his own.
But the thought of her sitting alone in her study late at night, churning out pages and pages of dirty little stories starring him…
Well, that was just awkward.
"At least take a look," she pleaded with him. "I'd really like to know what you think."
Grimsley raised an eyebrow. "I highly doubt that." His expression softened, however, when he saw the hurt on her face. "Not to detract from your writing skills, of course. I'm afraid I might find it more than a little… unnerving."
"Well, it is a bit on the graphic side. Caitlin didn't make it past the third page. Ran upstairs as fast as her heels could carry her muttering about erasing it from her memory forever. But you…" Her voice took on a tone that could only be described as suggestive. "Oh, I think you can handle it."
He leapt to his feet. "C'mon, Shauntal. I've got things to do. And I'm not into—"
"Oh, don't go. I'll admit it gets rough in parts. But I thought you of all people would enjoy that. Marshal certainly did."
Grimsley made a mental note to avoid Marshal for the remainder of his Pokémon League career.
He had no such luck. As he bolted from the room, he ran into the very person he had sought to avoid, heaping praise upon praise onto the very story he had hoped to soon forget about.
According to Marshal, the piece was nothing short of thrilling. He spoke of it with such fervor, Grimsley wondered if it was time he started searching for a new job.
"And what were your thoughts?" Marshal asked, thwarting Grimsley's every effort to block out his words.
"I haven't read it yet." And if he had any choice in the matter, he never would.
"Well then, I won't spoil all the fun, but Shauntal made one thing clear." Marshal grinned at him. "You sure know how to get it done. It's a true story, is it not?"
Was that what she was telling people?
His stunned silence was interrupted by none other than her, emerging from his chambers with newfound determination. "See? He likes it. If you'd just give it a chance…"
"If it isn't the authoress herself." Marshal let out a low chuckle. "I think I'll head back to mine and work on some new moves. Why not take this opportunity for a sneak peek at a future bestseller? And maybe next time," he said with a wink, "I can watch."
Grimsley shot his colleague a look of revulsion. As far as he was concerned, there was only one way to cope with the horrors that had befallen him today.
"Screw this. I'm going to the casino."
Grimsley left the League headquarters with a cursory wave to Iris, who sat upon the steps, happily reading away. There was no need for him to slip out unnoticed. In a convenient turn of events, Unova's newest Champion was not yet aware of his penchant for rolling the dice.
Her voice rang out across the terrace. "Off to lose all your battle winnings?"
Or so he'd thought.
"Shauntal told me where you go after dark." Iris glanced up from her book with a giggle. "Gambling doesn't pay, you know."
He shrugged off her remark. "Only when you're losing, kid. And I don't lose."
"Really? Because she said—"
"I wouldn't believe a thing Shauntal says. Or writes, for that matter." He paused meaningfully. "I have the odd off night, once in a blue moon. But I win it all back. Most of the time."
"Sure you do."
As he fumbled for a retort, it occurred to him—just what was she reading, exactly?
"Iris?"
"Mm-hmm?"
"What, may I ask, is that?" He gestured toward her literature of choice, which he couldn't help but notice seemed terribly familiar…
"Oh, this?" Her eyes gleamed with mischief. "Don't tell Shauntal. She thinks it's too much for someone my age. But I'm not a little kid anymore. So I had my Archeops swipe it off her desk when she left to get a coffee."
"You did not."
"I did too! Pretty cool, huh?"
Sighing heavily, he raised a palm to his brow. "You are far, far too young for that."
"What's the big deal?" She pouted. "There's nothing in here I haven't seen before. How do you think I got to be Champion, anyway?"
There were no words. Simply no words. Grimsley had long suspected that some questionable activity went down behind the scenes at the Pokémon League, but this…
He snatched the offending story from the young Champion and walked off, shaking his head in disgust.
"Hey, I was reading that!" Iris shouted after him. "It was just starting to get good, too."
Grimsley didn't grace the casino with his presence that night. He returned to his chambers, clutching the book in a death grip.
If everyone and their Lillipup would be getting their hands on it, perhaps he was better off knowing what he was in for. At long last, it was time he faced up to this. Whatever Shauntal had written, it couldn't be that hard to swallow.
And if it was? He could always pack up and move to Kanto.
So he poured himself a generous tumbler of whiskey—while Caitlin possessed all manner of mental powers to obliterate the story from her mind, he had no choice but to make do with good old-fashioned alcohol—and slowly lifted its cover.
And as the narrator launched into a gruesome account of his Bisharp's brutal assault on the hapless team of an inexperienced challenger, he began to feel very foolish indeed.
It was official. Grimsley was well and truly losing it.
A battle. A startlingly explicit depiction of one, granted, but that was all it was. And yet he'd thought…
Never mind what he'd thought. His ill-conceived assumption had been both humorous and horrifying, but there was no use dwelling on it any further. All that was left was to go down the hall to the interminable mess that Shauntal called her study and compliment the girl on the most rousing story he'd ever read.
She was hunched over her desk amid stacks of books and papers when he arrived, her features downcast as she peered at him over the array of clutter. "You're back early."
"I never left." He returned the manuscript with a flourish, deliberately brushing his fingers against hers, and suppressed a smirk at the blush that colored her face. "I got caught up in a bit of reading. Fascinating reading, I might add."
"I was wondering where that went." The hint of accusation in her voice didn't go unnoticed.
"You may want to have a talk with our Champion. It turns out her Archeops is quite the burglar. Luckily, I was able to retrieve it, and…"
"And?"
"It was absolutely riveting. More so than the battle itself," he told her in earnest. "You have a real talent, Shauntal. Though I'm sure you've heard it many times before."
"Thank you. It means more than you know. Still…" Her appreciative smile gave way to a thoughtful frown. "I don't see why you wouldn't read it in the first place."
Grimsley chose his words carefully. "Let's just say I was expecting something… different."
"Like what?" she shot back with surprising audacity. "An erotic novel?"
He forced out a laugh that was unconvincing even to his own ears. "No."