Giles hid his smile behind his teacup as he watched his Slayer play with her Eevee. It reminded him of his own starters from his youth, a faithful Espeon and Umbreon duo, now long gone. He observed as Buffy rolled on the floor in a completely undignified manner, letting the little brown animal chase her.
Perhaps a Kadabra or a Mr. Mime to keep himself company?
Through all the ass-kicking, the betrayals, redemption, and general hoo-ha that came with demon fighting, sometimes all a girl really wanted was a hug. A hug in private, with no one to mock her, just between her and her Pokémon.
"Damn Jet, we really didn't think this through."
In the end, Faith settled for thumping her Scyther solidly in the ribs and getting a loving nudge in return.
And that was cool.
"It would fit the theme really well, y'know?"
Willow glanced over at her lover, sprawled on her back with one arm over her eyes. "What would?"
Tara rolled over and grinned lopsidedly. "Oak, Elm, Birch, Rowan, Juniper," she snuggled closer to the redhead. "Obviously you were destined to become the next great professor."
Willow preened and wriggled, the motion causing the blanket to slide low on the other witch's hips and revealing her bare, ample bosom. "Flattery will get you everywhere."
The plume of fire that shot overhead interrupted any further attempts at seduction. "I'll get them," Tara sighed. Standing up naked as the day she was born, she grabbed Crowley and Rua by the scruffs and swept them out into the hall.
Willow sighed. "We really need to get our own apartment. Off campus."
The Pokémon breeder quirked her brow. Now there's an idea.
Buneary plodded along after the woman. She had decided that this would be her trainer. She fussed about like she knew what she was doing, males of the species cowered before her, and she walked like a woman who knew her place in the world.
The right person for Buneary.
Unfurling one ear and tapping the blonde woman on the leg gently, she let out a soft, "'eary!" in greeting.
The former vengeance demon looked down, shrieked, and tore off in the opposite direction.
She certainly didn't look like the type of girl who could command a fire-type, let alone one of the Johto starters.
Tara Maclay was sort of an enigma like that, Buffy supposed.
Willow having a new, witchy gal-pal? Great!
Willow's witchy gal-pal training a fire-type? Invite her on patrol sometime, she could toast vamps for us!
Willow being more than just witchy gal-pals with her?
Well, that was gonna cause a few problems.
Not because of the whole gay thing, no way. Buffy was a So-Cal girl, and she was okay with this sort of thing. No, what really ground her gears was potential heart break for her best friend.
After that whole fiasco with Oz and his out of control Mightyena, Buffy had to wonder. Fire type trainers were the worst, brash, temperamental, loud, and were just downright annoying. Despite their usefulness in fighting the evil undead, fire-type trainers never really lasted long on the Hellmouth, their attitudes getting them killed often.
So when the Slayer met Willow's girlfriend, well…wow.
Pretty much the exact opposite of every fire-type trainer she had ever met. Odd, seeing as Crowley fit almost every fire-type Pokémon stereotype. The Slayer turned to watch as Crowley put Swordie through his paces, dodging each of the Eevee's blows flawlessly, ending the little play fight with a shoulder-to-shoulder blow.
Turning from the little sparring match, she observed as Tara brought Dawn down from one of her screaming fits. Over a year later and Buffy had learned quite a bit about the witch. Fire types required a trainer with infinite patience and inner strength, and Tara had that in spades.
Zoroark, the evolved form of Zorua. Protective of it's loved ones, it is known to harness illusions and dark powers to protect and avenge them.
Willow couldn't have chosen a more perfect Pokémon. Taking out the last of Glory's minions, the glow that filled the room was almost drowned out by Rua's roar of pain and rage.
…or perhaps it was Willow's?
Now looming over a foot taller than her trainer, Rua bared her teeth, looking as fearsome as possible as the redhead burst through the hellgod's doors.
"We. Owe. You. PAIN!"
'For my mistress' mate,' the dark fox snarled. Then it's thoughts drifted to the broken fire-type who tried to defend his mistress. 'For Crowley, too.'