The Guindo (theguindo) wrote in catchafewlogs,
The Guindo

Duncan/Lynea/Shorty, of misinterpretations.


So you know how Thursday night all those sudowoodo disappeared having been captured by Rockets? Well Duncan and Shorty and a bunch of other Rockets from Saffron were flown in to help! And. And Duncan and Shorty proceeded to miss the flight back. Lynea wasn't pleased to hear this.

It was a Friday. To Lynea, the fact that it was nearing the start of a weekend meant nothing a side from the fact that the business would be low in body count and output would be lower for a short amount of time. While many women her age would be out there in the outside world, taking care of their children, spending time with their loved ones or strolling through shops, Lynea found her time spent on more useful things. Things needed to be done and boy, was there a whole lot of it. The minute she had flicked on the lights to her office, she could already see the ominously large stack of papers on her desk. She gave it a long stare, hands on her hip as she took a deep breath. Her secretary should really give her these things in smaller doses.

Refraining to even speak, Lynea casually made way to her seat. She paused again, giving the pile another wary stare before leaning over to grab the first folder from the pile. As she leaned back, her hand instinctively went for the playback on her office phone. She didn't have to look to see if there messages for her.

There were always messages.

From there, she worked quietly. Her eyes focused on paper while her ears listened to the messages. Five messages from requests of transfers into the department; Those could obviously wait. A message from Lab 06, expressing great dismay as their research for better vitamin supplements was hitting another setback; That would need a call later today, but wasn't anything of imminent priority. One message from Duncan that he had got himself left behind in Johto; That...what?

She froze as she keyed the repeat button on her phone.

"Sooo Shorty and I missed the flight back and we're stuck in Johto and uh I won't be at work tomorrow but I'll be back by Monday. Call me, or, y'know what, don't call me."

She stared at her phone in calm disbelief, as if she saw Duncan's face right there telling her this instead. She even missed the other messages as she just sat there dumbfounded.

How could that even be possible? Surely not even Duncan could be that blind to miss six Helicopters and get himself left behind.

Choosing to ignore the folder she was working on, Lynea grabbed the phone's receiver and dialed Duncan's cell number. He better have a really good reason for this. She could already feel a headache coming on.


Huh? The phone? Shorty sat up in his hotel bed. Mister Duncan didn't seem to immediately respond, so it was up to Shorty to save the day again! Perhaps he should start by picking up the phone before it stopped ringing. He reached for it, not really wanting to open his eyes. He kept them closed and muttered sleepily, "H...hello...?"


It figures Shorty would be with Duncan. Lynea put the receiver to her shoulder as she pulled open her desk drawer, pulling out a bottle of asprin for later use.

"William," she spoke in a flat, deadpan tone. "It's Lynea. Where's Duncan?"

Shorty mumbled something along the lines of "Missta Duncan sleep get". He simply walked over to Mister Duncan, and shook him a bit to wake him up. If this succeeded, he would then hand him the phone and mumble something along the lines of "Phone mister muffin". Shorty was not a morning person.

This worked insofar as Duncan responded with a mumbled, "What, Shorty?" When he heard the word phone he gave a sigh, holding his hand out for it, and set it to his ear once it'd been handed over. "H'lo, Duncan 'ere." His standard phone greeting sounded distinctly country this fine Johto morning.

Upon hearing Duncan's voice (Even with the weird country accent), Lynea's eyes narrowed.

"There were six helicopters, six transport helicopters. Explain to me how you could miss all six of them?"

FUCK, LYNEA. He bolted up, suddenly wide awake. "Lynea! I askedja not t' call--" pause, throat-clearing, and then again in the more standard not-country-bumpkin Duncan voice she was used to hearing "--I mean, uh, you really didn't need to call back, Lynea. I mean, really."

ZZzzzzzzz. Oops. Shorty feel asleep.

"That did not answer my question."

"I don't know, because I'm me? I'll be back in time for work on Monday, okay? Christ, you don't have to hound me about being an idiot, I realize these things."

"I'm your boss. I get paid to hound you for being an idiot." she stated in cold manner, probably icing over any humor to her comment.

She snapped the medicine bottle open as felt her headache make its approach.

"There were at least 30 other rockets with you, how could you lose sight of them?"

"I don't know, because it was dark and I was in a forest and everyone was dressed in very nondescript black specifically engineered to not be highly visible?" Ugh, he didn't want to be having this phone call right now. He'd known this was coming and that just made it worse.

... Touche.

Taking the bottle in one hand, she shook it for two pills before stopping to speak again.

"You would think that if lacking observation was a constant, you would be smart enough to think of ways of prevention."

"You'd think, right? But I try, and then something else goes wrong that I didn't even expect. Like, okay, the copters? There were more than just ours. In a rare moment of observation, I realized people had been flown in from areas not Saffron and thus the extra helicopters beyond just our six. I didn't miss all the flights back, just mine."

Shorty stirred!
"No... Rival! Why... the smelling! ALWAYS THE SMELLING! Picked starter after me just to be a d...mumble..."
False alarm.

.... Shorty. what. =|

Let's ignore the new kid and go back to focusing on the argument. She pulled open another drawer to grab a water bottle and downed a few pills.

"...That is the most stupid reason to ever come out somebody's mouth that wasn't William's. Of course there would be more helicopters than just ours. It's a Capture Assault."

"Uh huh." He leaned forward, resting an elbow on his leg and pinching the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to fend off his own oncoming headache. "You're not listening to me. I knew there were helicopters that weren't ours. I didn't realize which ones were."

"Heard...That...." Zzzzz.

"You could have asked someone. Pilot or fellow rocket, your choice."

"Hang on," came out as something of a frustrated sigh.

He lowered the phone, looking over to Shorty. "Hey," he called, hopefully loud enough to be heard over dreams of The Rival, "Shorty, get up."

"Finally have you rival...victory...not so high and mi--"
Shorty was stolen from a wonderful dream by Duncan's voice.
"huh..wha... Mis'a Duncan?" Shorty rubbed his eyes. "Wha' is it?"
He was mumbling rather heavily.

He tossed the phone over to Shorty's bed; hopefully it'd land without closing itself on Lynea. "Tell Lynea why we're stuck in Johto. She doesn't believe me, apparently."

His problem now handed off to somebody else, he slid out of bed to stumble over to the backpack he'd set in the corner, kneeling in front of it to rifle through the pockets for his trusty excedrin bottle.

Shorty missed and it landed on the bed, but remained open. Shorty picked it up. "Um... misser Duncan missed the copta an' I missed it too an' so we got a hotel," he mumbled somewhat coherently.


She froze again at what she was doing.

"...was this Duncan's idea?"

"Y-yes. Misser Duncan said it'd be better than Pokecen'er" Shorty answered. Could he go back to sleep yet? He wasn't even sure of what he was saying at this point.

Duncan finally found that excedrin bottle, buried under sudowoodo-filled PokéBalls somewhere at the bottom of the backpack. Ah, his best friend. He took two; by this point in his life he was so experienced with headache meds he didn't even need water for it anymore.

He paid some amount of attention to what Shorty was telling Lynea, but so far he hadn't said anything painfully stupid or anything, so he didn't think to step back in just yet.


"Give the phone back to Duncan."

"Y-oka-uh huh" Shorty tossed the phone back in Mister Duncan's direction, pleased that he could get back to his second favorite activity (The first favorite involving something cold and possibly cream-related).

He didn't quite notice the toss in time. He made a dive for it but despite the noble effort, it still hit the floor about a foot to his left. With a sigh, he picked it up and put it back to his ear, not bothering to pick himself up first. "Yes?"

Lynea took the receiver to her hand, glaring at her table as she spoke. "When you arrive for work on monday, you will immediately come to my office where we will be discussing fraternization policies of Team Rocket. Not a minute late."

With that done, Lynea hung up with a sound slam and hoped that work would keep her from reflecting back on the annoying ordeal.

"Fraterni--" Click. Blink. Silence. "...What?"

He pushed himself up on his elbows, pausing there for a moment to try to figure out what the hell she was talking about. At a complete loss, he finally just shook his head and pulled himself to his feet.

He flipped the phone shut, slipping it into his pocket, and walked over to shake Shorty awake. "Hey. Get up. We need to get going."


. . .

He suddenly pulled the phone back out. Her machine picked up. "What the fuck, Lynea! Do you seriously think I'd do something like that? With as lame an excuse as this? Are you serious? How fucking little do you think of me? I am a competent and capable member of Team Rocket who loves the Boss more than anything in the entire goddamned world and you think I'd shirk my duties for something like that? Are you fucking kidding me? I didn't leave the facility for three years because I didn't want to miss a single thing that might possibly come up while I was gone, and you think I would skip out on work to sleep with my partner? Wow. I don't even know what to fucking say. I am just so insulted right now I can't even think straight.

"Oh, and by the way? That sweater? It's not working. Try an uglier one next time." He snapped the phone shut. "Bitch."

THAT got Shorty up. Wait, Sleeping with...? But they were in separate beds! And Mister Duncan wasn't a pokemon! Certainly not an adorable one like Tilly.

"Um... What's going on?"

He glanced down at Shorty. "Lynea thinks we were fraternizing. Get up, we're leaving."

She thought they were WHAT?! Is Mister Duncan really... No way.
Shorty got up and grabbed his things. So much for his second favorite activity.
Tags: duncan, lynea, shorty
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