Disclaimer: I do not and never will own Pokémon, or Pokémon Special. -weeps in corner-

- - x x x x x - -

Never let it be said that I did not like challenges; they were what broke the monotony of life, because, heck, what was life without something to spice it up? All my friends were all-too-aware of this, as well as, more lamentably, my reputation of a man-eater. As such, I had amassed quite a fair amount of nicknames, mostly pertaining to my so-called finicky tendencies and attachment to material wealth – Persian, Glameow – as well as the doom I tended to bring to unfortunate boys – Absol – and, well, my habit of, according to Sapph, chewing up guys and spitting them out – Victreebel – only to leave them in a much worse shape than they were in before. Yeah, that pretty much summed up my love life in a few words. Or, as of now, nonexistent love life.

However, I digress. Where was I, before I started going off on a tangent like that? Oh, yes, I remember now. The subject of challenges, right, right.

Well, it wasn't as though I was actively pursuing challenges. They just tended to wander about in front of me. Although today, such wasn't quite the case, for the said challenge only happened to nonchalantly stroll across my sights, pausing only to give me the most perfunctory of glances, and thoroughly ignoring my cheery wave. Tch, spoilsport. Three months later, and I had yet to crack this tough nut. Still, it would be worth it in the end. Oh-so-worth it.

That Guy, as I – along with Crys, Sapph and Platina; Yellow wanted no part in our 'tomfoolery', and insisted on leaving the poor guy alone, though she didn't quite have us convinced – came to dub him, at least, for those few hours on his first day before we got to know his name, was, even at the very best of times, an enigma. That is, according to the oh-so-eloquent Platina, while Sapph merely maintained he was just Mr. Not-So-Talkative. Anyways. The thing was, even now, half a year since he joined the school, we came to find that he wasn't the most outgoing – or cheerful – of people, and worse still, we barely even knew about him, period.

However, what we did know back then was that he was a total all-rounder – he had been top of his year back in that school he'd been in before transferring over, and was not only quite the debater, but quite the sportsman as well; however, he didn't really seem to act – or look – it, and when he had stood in silence in front of the class, there was not the slightest glimmer of arrogance – or interest, for that matter – in his green eyes. Whilst everyone had stared at him with keen curiosity, wondering what sort of person he was, the look he returned spoke volumes about him, despite the fact that he had barely uttered a word since traipsing into class, looking rather fashionably ruffled.

- - x x x x x - -

Surge stared down his nose at the new kid with an unfathomable expression on his face, before crossing his brawny arms together. "What's yer name, boy?" he barked, and we all instantly sat up a little straighter in our seats, eager to learn the name of this mystery fellow.

He merely stared right back at our only-somewhat-slightly-intimidating substitute teacher, before grunting out a reply that I bet was barely audible to Surge's ears, let alone the people in the front row. The older man scowled a little. "I asked you what's your name, boy," he growled, employing that I'll-kick-your-ass-from-here-to-the-middle-of-next-week-if-you-display-any-sign-of-insubordination-do-you-hear-me tone that was usually reserved for cadets and army recruits, the sort of tone that demanded an equally loud "Sir yes sir!" as an answer; right here and now, it wasn't all that hard to believe that the stern-faced old coot used to be a high-ranking officer in the army, before, for reasons only known to himself, chose to become a teacher. Or, more accurately, a substitute teacher: he was normally the physical education coach, and as such, loathed being cooped up in a little classroom having to watch over what he darkly dubbed to be a 'herd of scrubs'. Nah, to him, time was better spent attempting to tough up some skinny beansprout guys into 'real men', by way of having his Raichu chase them around the field and zap the ones who fell behind. Those poor people.

Several people in the front row exchanged looks; if things got ugly, and Surge got nasty, like he had last year with a particularly similarly uncooperative Volkner – who had survived the incident, and was now far, far away from here in university, good for him – then they would be the first to bear the brunt of the sub's anger. Right now, poor Bill looked like he wanted nothing more but to head for cover under his desk: with good reason too, I might add. Surge and Bill were renowned for not getting along, due to that disastrous incident a few months back – even now, details were still vague, though it probably had something to do with Surge dropping his laptop, and Bill volunteering to fix it…only to cause some major grief to the ex-army officer along the way; Bill'd been on detention for longer than we cared to remember, and it looked like right now, he was keen to not remind Surge of the fact that he was in this particular class. That, along with the fact that Bill tended to skip every single phys ed class he could would not possibly have endeared him to the grumpy coot in the slightest.

Well, strictly speaking, Surge wasn't all that old, but he was known for being somewhat short-tempered and irascible – ha, what an understatement – and as such, the nickname had kinda stuck. Of course, it went without saying that he was not aware of this.

New Guy glared a little at Surge, which I must say, required quite some guts, and repeated his name a little louder, in a somewhat monosyllabic mumble. "Green."

For several more seconds, an awkward silence settled rather comfortably over the room, until Surge snorted. "Very well then. I hope to see you in my own classes sometime. Heh heh heh." Boy, did that sound intimidating. Doubtless he had some grueling workout routine planned. Watching as New Guy – err, no, Green – trudged over to a seat near the back, to sink so low in it I was surprised he could see over his own knees, the rest of the class turned reluctantly back towards the front, to face the whiteboard, on which Surge was now drawing a rather bad diagram. Man, this guy had no artistic talent whatsoever. The things Pryce and Lorelei could teach him…oh, wait, but they specialized in sculpture…though they could still nevertheless give him pointers on his drawing skills…which were woefully lacking, to say the least…

Uh-oh. Why's everyone staring at me?

Impatiently wiggling his marker in my general direction, Surge raised an eyebrow, addressing me with a rather irritated, gravelly voice. "Earth to Blue. Quit daydreaming and answer the question."

What question? To my right, Crystal scribbled something on a scrap piece of paper and pushed it over to me; it was a momentous task to attempt to read it whilst not craning my neck too much, all the while trying to look like I was about to come up with a semi-intelligible answer. "Uhh," I ventured as suavely as I could, all the while racking my brains for a suitable response, all the while attempting to decipher Crys's handwriting – sure, it was neat and legible, but I was at a distinct disadvantage, sitting as I was at a ninety-degree angle to her. Would it be too obvious if I were to turn my head? Yes, yes it would be, actually.

Shit shit shit shit shit. What was the question? Wait. It had something to do with status ailments, I remember now. Or did it?

"Um…hmmm…" Oh god, this is what you get for not paying attention in the middle of class. I could almost hear Crys mentally slapping herself on the forehead – I was quite tempted to follow suit, at this rate – and it took every single shred of composure and self-restraint I had to not quail under Surge's incredulous stare, and to not take offence at the faint, disbelieving snort from someplace behind me from idiot anti-authority I'm-So-Smart Green. Before I could get myself into even more trouble, I heard the answer mumbled out from his general location, uttered in New Guy's near-monosyllabic whisper.

"Attack. A hundred and thirty."

What did that have to do with status ailments? Still, New Guy had probably been hanging on Surge's words, unlike me, and it was better to trust his judgment.

"Oh, I know the answer to this, ahahaha…" I attempted to cover up my earlier hesitation, putting on as confident a tone as I could. "It's a hundred and thirty, and that is it's attack stat!"

"Correct. Glad to hear your mind is still with us," Surge said drily, "and indeed, she is right. A Flareon's highest base stat, unfortunately enough, is its attack one, and sadly, it only learns one physical attack via level up, TM or otherwise, that affords a same-type attack bonus, as well as takes advantage of its stats. Its ability, Flash Fire, will undoubtedly help it a lot, but at the end of the day…you will not be wasting moves such as Fire Blast or Flamethrower on one. Well done, Missy."

I grinned and nodded, playing along to the best of my ability; still, I could feel my face lighting up like a Charizard's tail, at the embarrassment of nearly getting caught daydreaming. Of course I knew that, this was exactly what we had been learning in this class: on the vagaries of Pokémon statistics, and how they affected their attacking capabilities. Sure, my grades weren't stellar, especially compared to the likes of Crys, but then and again, she was the one walking around with her nose perpetually buried in a book…and Platinum…was just Platinum. Who used to read at least ten books a day. Thank god for people like Sapph, is all I can say. Seriously, what was happening to me? It wasn't as though I got into a funk like this all the time. Heck, I was known for the ability to think on my feet, and to think fast, and talk my way out of anything. Stupid New Guy and his unruffled air, it interfered with my train of thought…

- - x x x x x - -

Well yeah. So since his first day here, about term ago, I had gotten to know him somewhat better, all in subconscious preparation for this new challenge that I had; despite my best attempts, which would have reduced any other hot-blooded male to a helpless mass willing to pander to my every whim, he merely muttered short, succinct answers to my most innocently pressing of questions, and seemed blind to those charms that would have rendered any other boy incoherent. Tch. Well, that said, perhaps it was a good thing that he was so tricky. Because of that mini-bet I had made with the others, this would doubtless be the hugest challenge I could ever, or would ever take. Of course, it wasn't exactly habit to make petty sport of pursuing the fragile hearts of skittish, commitment-phobic men, but it had been a while since I had used my talents, and I relished honing them on someone like him.

The others had not been so sure about it, though. Yellow, for one, had flatly refused to have anything to do with it. I remembered sitting in the arts room watching her paint, along with Crys, Sapph and Platinum, flush from the victory of finally getting Green to deign to speak to me, after hunting him down…no, wait, that wasn't quite right. He came to me. Hmm, that's a start. It had taken three whole hours, but it was all worth it. Grandson of Professor Oak indeed! That would be quite a catch.

"Remind me…why are you going to antagonize the poor boy again?" she asked distractedly, entirely forgetting about the fact that he was at least a year older than her; leaning back critically from her canvas to survey the composition of her piece, she absently raised her hand, tugging a charcoal pencil from behind her ear, and smudging her golden-blonde hair with a streak of black in the process. We watched in silence as, with brow furrowed, Yellow carefully added a few careful lines here and there, before turning to beam at us with satisfaction, though upon catching sight of what was known as my 'Persian on the hunt' expression, shook her head bewilderedly.

"Because it'll be a challenge to get someone like him even remotely interested in social events!" I enthused, waggling a finger at her. "You saw the look on his face…uhoho, maybe you didn't…but when Fantina started talking about the upcoming ball, ah, it was priceless." It was true. As the elaborately-coiffed part-time teacher had passionately entered an ardent spiel about what had come to be one of the most anticipated events on the school calendar, the look that settled quite comfortably upon Green's features was not, like some of the other boys', one of sly knowingness, or awkward embarrassment, but, rather, one of utmost horror.

"Which exactly goes back to the point Yellow was trying to make," Crys hastily added, setting her book down, "why are you so keen on dragging him to something he clearly doesn't want to attend? Why not just go with one of your flings?"

I sighed. "Because they won't be a challenge! All I have to do is look at them, and snap—" at that, I snapped my fingers, ignoring Sapphire's stage whisper of "Persian used Mean Look…!": "—and they will be putty in my hands. But in this case, ahahaha, it will take every single ounce and shred of my feminine wit and guiles to get him to ask me to go with him."

Grinning confidently at my grand plan, I gazed at them in turn, waiting for the others to acknowledge the validity of my point. Platinum frowned. "You have a very odd and twisted notion of fun," she said delicately, lacing her fingers together and resting her chin on them, proceeding to stare at me with raised eyebrows.

I chuckled. "You just realized? I must say, he makes for wonderful eye-candy. Which is, really, the very reason I'm pursuing him. And, hopefully, still available eye-candy, unlike the likes of Volkner."

She persevered nonetheless. "Well, no, but think about the rationality of your argument. We are talking about you undertaking a challenge that would involve making a well-nigh asexual male suddenly take at least some minute degree of interest in the upcoming ball, and then making him like you enough to ask you to it, instead of the other way around." At that, the dark-haired girl broke off slightly, clearing her throat carefully. "Not that I'm doubting your, ah, skills in any way, but nevertheless…" Stopping short, she frowned at me. "Are you serious? Physical attraction is all you're concerned about?"

"Nevertheless nothing," I proclaimed triumphantly, ignoring her last question. "It'll work, or my name's not Blue."

- - x x x x x - -

The first time I spoke to Green, it was something of an accident. Sure, it had been a few hours before I decided to make him the target of my personal challenge, but it was an event to be remembered nonetheless.

As usual, before lunch, I had stopped by my locker, if only to dump some books in it; I wondered, briefly, if I should head off to the library to study for a while after school today: Morty had hinted that we would have an upcoming surprise test, possibly this week or next week – seriously, he should know, he's the one that sets them, geez – and as such, we were to be prepared. However…the prospect of charming someone else – who, though? Sidney? Or maybe Aaron? Hmm…or perhaps even Falkner. Didn't they have Morty for one of their classes as well? Which was weird. He was just like, a little bit older than them. Put new meaning into the phrase 'grad teacher', that did. Perhaps I'd ask Aaron, Sidney was kinda intimidating, and I hadn't spoken to him much before. And Falkner was probably far too straight-laced to ever deign to give me test answers, what a shame…oh, the perils of being the son of a police officer, and keeping up with his father. Not to mention, Janine would probably kill me in my sleep or something; ah, the dilemmas – into giving me the answer sheet was a the appealing option, by a large, large margin. I guess I could try my luck with Bill. He was a nice guy, if not for his awkwardness around girls, and his all-consuming love for technology, and renowned for his phenomenal grades (and not-so phenomenal physical prowess. Practically every single girl could outrun him, in skirts, to boot. Poor guy.).

Before I knew it, I found my mind wandering back to the New Guy, or Green, as I should call him. After class had ended, and I had swallowed my embarrassment somewhat, I had attempted to introduce myself, and to thank my inadvertent savior, only to find that he had scooted off remarkably quickly: one minute, I had sneaked a glance to the back of the room to check that he was there, and the next minute, he was nowhere to be found. Weird. I had spent the rest of my morning surreptitiously scouting high and low for him, he was nowhere to be found. Frustrating, too – he was quite a looker, and I was keen to snag him for myself.

"Excuse me."

Oh jeez. Couldn't a girl use her locker in peace? I swung the door shut, ready to reprimand whichever guy it was, but found the words stuck in my throat as soon as I caught sight of who it was. "H-hey! You're that new boy!"

A look of annoyance creased his brow, and he sighed. Though looking distinctly irritated, there was still no denying the fact that he was distractingly good-looking. "Yes. I am fully aware of that, and do not need anyone to repeat that fact to me."

I decided it was time to adapt the circumstances to my advantage. Hitching on a megawatt smile – which Wattson would doubtless have heartily approved of, ha ha ha – I beamed at him, holding out a hand. "Well hello there! Sorry for being so blunt, ahaha…I don't know what's gotten into me today. M'name's Blue. You were in Surge's class, weren't you?"

He narrowed his eyes slightly, but nodded curtly at me. "I remember you. The girl in front of me, right?" Why was he asking me? He knew full well. Hmm. Two can play at this game, Pretty Boy. "Surge asked you that question about Flareon's highest stat."

"Uh-huh. Thanks for helping me out! That was really sweet of you. So, Green, right?" I had to salvage the situation, before it turned against my favour, as well as get started on my plans to get to know him better.

New Guy nodded, looking rather bored. "No problem. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get to my locker."

Well, this first conversation was a disaster, but it was better than nothing. But sooner or later, he would be mine. I would see to that. "Oh, sorry! Well, I gotta run. Have a good day! And, oh, once again, thank you sooo much!" Oh. My. Goodness. I can't believe I just said that. As I hastily scooted off, I saw him nod a grudging thanks.

"It was nothing," he muttered.

Well, that went well.

- - x x x x x - -

"It certainly did," Sapph said bluntly, rolling her eyes; before she could say anything more, though, she muttered something incomprehensible, and pulled out her phone. Without missing a beat, she flipped it open, pressed it to her ear, and bellowed into the mouthpiece at the top of her lungs: "WHAT DO YOU WANT NOW?!"

Crystal and I exchanged meaningful looks. "It's Ruby," she mouthed. I snickered. Despite the outward love-hate thing they had going on, it was quite clear to all and sundry that they were very much in love, even if they took great pains not to show it. Sure, they had this huge on-off relationship going on and on, but it was inevitable that they would return to one another. It made me kind of sad to see them: they were obviously so close, and I envied that.

Ugh, something's wrong with me. I'm getting all mushy and sappy. Whatever happened to the old Blue? The old Blue, who used to be compared to a Delcatty in that she was too proud to allow herself to be tied down with anyone? Tch. I was growing soft in my old age, it had to be—

"Whaddaya mean, where's yer accessory box and make-up case?! Why would I friggin' know, of all people?! And why're you askin' me where's yer sewing kit is?!" Though Sapph's accent had diminished in strength somewhat, it tended to return in full force when she got angry or agitated. In this case, I'm guessing it was a combination of the two.

If we all didn't know better, we could have sworn Ruby was gay. In their relationship, it was…sort of like that between an athlete and a patient, long-suffering housewife, except in this case, Sapphire was the jock, and Ruby was the…house-husband, so to speak. Whilst she was the one in the athletics team, basketball team, had placed first in practically every cross-country race the school had participated in, and had singlehandedly completed this year's triathlon in record time, Ruby was the one who fussed over her all the time – much to her perpetual and eternal chagrin – and, to cheer her up, or celebrate her victories, cooked the most amazing meals for her, and whatnot. It was hilarious, and truth be told, they were just like an elderly married couple. Ha. I'd kill to see her expression when I tell her that.

Platinum shook her head and sighed, not wanting to listen to what she nonchalantly dubbed 'another lovers' argument' raging behind her, and settled down to prepare her notes for yet another speech. Being in the debating club, and continuously being chosen as the school's representative for a lot of elocutions and whatnot meant she was constantly honing her skills at oration, and it went without saying that she usually came first in every single in-class speech we had, and also ended up as Lucian's favourite student. Seeing as how, you know, he was head of the English department as well as a drama teacher. I honestly don't know why she even bothered to prepare speeches. She could ad-lib almost as well as I could, which is saying something.

Thus, Crys and I left them to bicker for a while, whilst watching Yellow paint; though the youngest out of the bunch, it was easy to see where her talent lay, and not for the first time, I wondered where exactly I fitted in. We were a weird bunch, to be sure, with Sapph being the jock through and through – she'd probably be better off with the other jock-y people, like Misty, who was in the school swim team, Maylene, who could beat up anyone in the school if she wanted to [as well as out-eat everyone put together, and still not gain a single pound…enviouuuus], surfer-dude Brawley, who won water polo, lifesaving and surfing awards for the school by the dozen, and Brock, who did a spot of weightlifting in his free time [a spot is an understatement. Seriously.] – but instead, chose to hang with us. Same with Platinum, who would have been right at home with the linguistics people and the all-round 'smart' kids, and Yellow, who would similarly have mixed better with the artsy-fartsy people. Now, from what I was saying, it might seem like Crys and I were the losers, but that's far from the truth: Crys is a superb all-rounder, so much so that it wasn't even funny. She was [and still is] in the athletics team, cycles cross-country, does kickboxing, won lots of first places in competitions for all of those, and is like, one of the top students of the school.

Gee. Looking at all my friends kind of makes me feel bad just thinking about myself. I mean, seriously. All of them excelled in some field or another, and what was I really good at? Like, really, really good at, other than having a smart mouth and quick wit? Yeah, that's right, not much. Sure, my grades were okay, nothing stellar, and I…well, cheat a little bit [let's not call it cheat, shall we? It's such an awful word! Maybe something like extra help sounds a little bit less damning.], but at the end of the day, it all boils down to the fact that I don't actually like studying. It's boring, and I would much rather be out doing more interesting things. Like swindling people. Oh god, that makes me sound like such a conniving devil, doesn't it? But it's actually pretty fun, once you have it down to an art. And on the other hand, I hate sport with a passion, and the only reason I might wander anywhere near a football pitch or anything is probably to see the guys strut their stuff. Mmmm. How's that for eye-candy?

Despite the fact that Sapph had turned away from us and was now hunched over her phone and whispering angrily into the mouthpiece, it was still possible to hear what she was saying: it is with the utmost affection with which I say this, but Sapphy…is not known for being quiet. Calling her boisterous would be putting it very kindly, and I gotta say, that girl's got a hell of a set of lungs. And her definition of a whisper? It's like a loud speaking voice for the rest of us. Sort of.

Crys caught my eye, and raised three fingers. Three.

If Platinum could say so without arousing Sapph's wrath, she would probably have mentioned something about her looking like an Arbok poised to strike.

Crys folded over one finger, wiggling the remaining two at us. Two.

Yellow was still squinting at her canvas with utmost concentration, and I felt sorry for the rude shock she was about to get.

Sapph didn't seem to realize that we were all staring at her with baited breath.

Crys held up one finger, wearing a simultaneously amused and triumphant grin, never mind the fact that she was trying to keep it from taking full possession of her face. One. We have liftoff!

Well, liftoff didn't really describe it. Oh no, that wouldn't do it justice. More like, Sapph nearly exploded, and went ballistic.

"I DON'T HAVE YER FRIGGIN' STUFF, WHY'D'YOU KEEP ASKING ME?! ARE YOU DEAF?! WELL, ARE YA? IT'S NOT LIKE I HAVE ANY INCLINATUN—" At that, she suddenly stopped mid-rant, and I assumed Ruby had managed to cut in and correct her. Looking at her, and watching her jab a finger at the empty air to emphasize her point, it seemed like she was about to have an aneurysm. "INCLINATUN, INCLINASHUN, INCLINATION, WHATEVER. BUT IT'S NOT AS IF I FEEL LIKE DRESSING UP MY POKÉMON TO BE ALL GIRLY!" I swear, I could almost feel my hair blowing back in a gale-force wind from the strength of that tirade, and could only wonder how the poor guy bore with it. I really don't. I mean, I love Sapph and all, she's great fun to be around, but still, it's hard to be at the receiving end of her raving. Poor Yellow took the brunt of it, and jumped almost a foot into the air, upsetting her colour palette.

With a sigh, and little much else in lieu of a reaction, we [that is, Platinum, Crys and I] watched as she hopped down from her chair to retrieve her stuff. By now, we were all pretty much used to Ruby and Sapph's most explosive relationship, and never mind the fact that it seemed like the two got along about as well as cats and dogs. Well, I amend that statement. Most cats and dogs. In a way, it was sort of cute, though. They'd been together for years now, and were the longest-standing couple in the school, so regardless of the arguments [lovers' spats, hahahaha], I suppose they showed their love in different ways. Such as hefting someone up and threatening to dump him, fully-clothed, into the swimming pool if he didn't stop attempting to beautify her Pokémon. Ah, that brought tears to my eyes, that did.

We watched as, with an angry curse, Sapph snapped her delicate-looking clamshell phone shut with a deft flick of her wrist; it must've been made to withstand Tauros rampages or something, because I for one know she'd have broken it by now otherwise. Meeting our eyes, she grinned apologetically. "Well, what can ya say," she said flippantly, before suddenly turning serious. "Now, Blue, are you really sure you want to undertake such a challenge? Like, really?"

Duh, of course I did. Oh Sapphy, you can be so doubting sometimes. I proceeded to say as much, only to be greeted by a rather affronted expression. "And how exactly are you going to get your plan, if any, to succeed?" This time, Platinum decided to interrupt, catching sight of Sapph's incredulous expression. I shrugged.

"I dunno. I'll make it up as I go, I guess."

Yellow sighed, before resting her cheek against the table, having abandoned all attempts to clean up her canvas. "I'll just tell them it's post-modernist impressionism influenced by Picasso or something," she mumbled with an air of defeat; however, she wasn't done, as she looked up at me, a puzzled look on her face. "No, really, though. He's going to be a tough nut to crack. You'll need a good plan, and a fallback, just in case. Oh goodness. Why am I even helping you with your diabolical plans?"

"I happen to love challenges," I repeated, sounding a tad sniffy; Sapph merely shrugged. "Suit yerself."

"Oh ho ho." Crossing my arms, I drew myself up to my full height to survey the rest of them. "You'll be eating your own words soon, oh ye of little faith."

Sapph smirked. "Bring it. How many million Pokédollars are you willing to bet?" Platinum snorted elegantly at that. "Gambling! How plebeian. Your money would be better-spent on increasing your knowledge."

I grinned at her. "Hey, hey, I am increasing my knowledge. Consider this a social experiment."

Crys frowned. "That poor boy."

- - x x x x x - -

Elsewhere, in a different place, a certain boy named Green frowned. "I have the funny feeling that…"

"That?" his childhood friend, Red, prompted, brow furrowing as he gazed at the other bloke, eyebrows raised.

"That something wicked this way comes."

- - x x x x x - -

BACKCHAT!: Dude like wtf, it's about time you started writing things again, R.V you epitome of fail. WELL YES. I've been playing Pokémon a lot lately [Diamonndddd! Pearllll! SOULSILVERRR 8D] and as a result, it shows in my writing. And, srsly, gotta love the Pokémon Special manga. BECAUSE I AM A SHAMELESS OLDRIVALSHIPPER, HERE'S AN ABSURDLY LONG FIC FOR YOU :'D WHOO-HOO.

Okay well. Better stop talking. OFF TO FINISH MY OTHER FICS I GOOOOO~