Title: Satisfied
Author: Shadow/Phantomness
Pairing: Championshipping (Lance x Red)
Fandom: Pokémon
Theme: #85, Satisfied

Rating: R
Disclaimer: Pokemon belongs to Nintendo and Shogakukan Comics. This non-profit, non-copyright infringing fanfiction belongs to me under international copyright laws and taking it is plagiarism. Thank you. *Phantomness bows*

Notes: <> for telepathy, ** for thoughts, italics if a pokemon talks

Warnings: AU, het, implied Specialshipping (Red x Yellow), adultery, insanity

 

            He could blame almost anyone or anything he wanted for his predicament. The alignment of stars at his birth, perhaps, or Fate, or Serebii the legendary pokémon of time… The facts were simple. He had loved two people, relatively equally and he had only been able to choose one.

            Society had been a constant pressure, and he had desperately needed public support to push his bill through the Indigo Governing Council.

            The other had been older, so he had picked the prettier and younger of the two.

            That was why he had married Yellow.

           

            Lance had been potentially dangerous, with Dragon Pokémon that was almost legends and ideas of reconstruction that were painfully eccentric. Red could not have chosen her and passed unscathed. He might have lost his Championship! He knew he would have lost public respect, at the very least.

            Indigo was not very kind to alternate lifestyles.

            After all, she was not exactly the type to become a meek, submissive, housewife, and fewer still knew she was a woman. They lived in a male-dominated society, and it was simpler for her to blend in.

 

            They had parted, but not with harsh words and scenes, thank Mew, and then Lance had left his life. He had guessed that the Dragon Master was not dead, but he had never expected to see her again. Then marriage had come and he was too busy with their twin children and his work to bother thinking about her. Why bother with an old flame? Their friendship – or love – was over and done with.

            He had never expected to see her again.

            He really hadn’t

 

            Ten years later, everything had changed. He had been sitting at the kitchen table, sipping his tea and trying to concentrate on his speech for the Pewter Pokemon Orphanage that morning, when a voice came on over the radio.

            He dropped his cup, hearing porcelain shatter against wood but he hardly registered the shards or the tea spilling over the tablecloth and splashing onto his pants. Yellow had taken their twins to school and was going off shopping with a few of her friends. She would not be home for a few more hours.

            He sat there, frozen, as the smooth voice poured liquid syllables into his ears.

            Perhaps he cried. Perhaps he didn’t. When Yellow returned, hours later, yawning and loaded down with several shopping bags, he was still frozen in shock.

            The song had long since passed, but its effects lingered.

 

            Yellow slapped him a few times before his eyes focused, marched him into the shower and cleaned up the broken china, and asked him if he’d missed his meeting. He had.

            She laughed it off, and didn’t ask why. She knew Red wasn’t the type to cheat. He was probably worried about some new legislative piece of work or charity function.

            He was not sure whether he was thankful or not.

 

            Actually seeing Lance made things worse.

 

            Red had been listening to the radio for several months. Lance’s songs were good – the right blend of almost-politics, sung in honey-sweet tones, with catchy music but no rampant cursing or loud instrumentals. Mothers and children liked it too, and Yellow actually bought two CDs so their children could listen without fighting each other. After all, they had separate rooms and CD players, but both loved music with a passion. It was strange.

 

            Yes, Lance’s music was bewitching, but actually seeing her in person made Red dizzy. He could only stare, intoxicated, while Lance sang her newest song, mellifluous tones cascading through his head in a sunburst of pleasure-pain.

            Perhaps it was coincidence. It was a charity function, a benefit for AIDS victims, he was there for show and Lance was there to sing and draw attention.

            She had let her hair grow longer, long, ruby-red waves almost to her waist. Had Lance had those streaks before? They dazzled Red’s eyes, brilliant silver and shimmering gold. He almost had to shield his eyes, but the brightness ensnared him, and he stared, mesmerized. The trainer – no, singer – was conservatively dressed, in a well-cut suit of black and white, not even a cloak covering her shoulders, and her breasts were bound as usual, but her presence was alluring…

            He was unaware of his hands clapping as the song ended, unaware of the confetti showering the stage, the cries of fans and the short bow Lance made as she exited the stage. He was only aware when he was walking behind the singer, reaching to close the door of Lance’s trailer behind them, before he was across the room, and then her lips were on his and his fingers tangled in her long hair with wild abandon as he kissed with a hunger he had never known.

 

            He ought to have stopped then.

            He was crazy. He was possessed. Maybe he was insane? Some wire in his brain had crossed, perhaps, or there was some chemical imbalance. Had he forgotten to take his vitamins? Did that cause hallucinations? Or there was something in the water?

 

            He had heard stories before. There were women who would stalk ‘men’ to the end of the earth – and men too. He knew Lance had been threatened, propositioned, and even attacked.

            Lance had casually put six members of a biker gang from Johto in a hospital. No one questioned why she carried blades inside her clothing. None of them had gotten close enough to reveal her true gender, either.

            It was one of the perils of being famous, they knew.

            Funny how fame could blind people…

 

            But Red hadn’t stopped.

            Before he knew it, Lance was leaning over him and his legs were spread as he mewled, and she had spoken, but her words had slurred in his mind and he had not paid them any heed.

            There was nothing that mattered except… Oh…

            Lance had smirked then, twistedly, but Red had missed it. Then she had moved, and he had screamed.

            He had stumbled home that night, roaring drunk, and Yellow had scolded like an angry hen and put him to bed.

            But he had not forgotten. He couldn’t forget.

 

            Afterwards, he began to covet. He collected newspaper clippings, joined a thousand fan clubs, scoured the Internet with wild abandon and staked out shops with new merchandise. At first, Yellow laughed at him, and brought the children, since they were also fans, and wasn’t it nice that they had common interests?

            It did not last long. Soon, her euphoria faded. She might not know the secret, but she had a good idea of where this was going.

            Red was…

 

            She began to quarrel, and he tuned her out. She raged about bills and children and job opportunities.

            He was deaf to her pleas.

 

            Sometimes, in his more lucid moments, he wanted to apologize, to make amends, to make things better. He wanted to be cured of this addiction. He wanted…

            Did he?

            Would he be able to give Lance up?

            Never!
            He clutched his plush doll close and patted her long hair, murmuring soothing words he had not spoken before.

 

            “Don’t leave me…”

            The radio played all night now, and in his dreams; they raced through rainbows together and flew on silver wings.

            He wanted Lance desperately, passionately, no, madly. He rearranged his schedule, making sure their meetings almost always coincided, and after every concert, every charity, every song, he would ache.

            And she would lead him inside.

            He would follow, mute and trusting, and feel, while flames blazed behind his eyes and he cried out again and again.

            “Mine,” Lance would say then.

            Red never gave voice of dissent, only wanting, fingers reaching out for more, greedily tasting.

            He grasped Heaven-Hell in his arms then.

           

            Yellow divorced him when the children were ten and old enough to go on their journeys, and left him for Green.

            He knew she had been meeting Green for months, maybe even years, but by then he was beyond caring.

            Lance found him, and took him inside, and it was warm, and he sipped hot chocolate and listened to her hum.

            And she was finally satisfied, holding her captive close as a triumphant smirk curved her lips, the blades on her wrists blurring into motion one last time.

            * I win. *

            Red was too far gone to notice.

 

End Fic

Completed 10/9/06

Edited 8/10/09

According to my biology class, typing and anything on the computer is very bad for my eyesight. *Sigh*

Lance: Creepy fic

Red: *Shudders*

Phantomness: Oh, don’t deny it. You’d ensnare Red any way you could!

Lance: … Point taken

Phantomness: This was oddly fun to write. It’s certainly something I haven’t written before! ^^ Nonetheless, adultery is a sin, and aren’t the consequences awful?