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A Midday Stroll

Summary:

Galar had no end to alluring sights: From grassy hills to beautiful lakes

And livid girlfriends defending their lovers' honor

Notes:

As you can probably tell, I felt obligated to join in on the angry Scottish female trainer craze. Excuse my attempt at giving the trainers made up names since we don't know what the official ones are yet. I saw a chance with the title of the game and I took it.

Work Text:

This was nice.

Galar’s generally tepid climate afforded quite a few sunny days; perfect for relaxing walks about the city or even loafing around the grasslands.

Ordinarily, Sheila would quickly tire of the uneventful boredom of ambling about town. She was a new trainer, fresh from her hometown with her very own starter Pokemon. She already took a liking to her Scorbunny, the feisty little thing. Matchstick adorably plopped on her shoulders as she strolled, his toasty feet rendering any need for a scarf obsolete. He was just as ready to get to battling as she was. So why was Sheila doing the exact opposite now?

“Lovely day for a mosey innit, love?”

That’s why.

Sheila tittered from her boyfriend’s accent. Ward knew she loved how goofy he sounded as he constantly would look for excuses to use it. “Ward, yer a cheeky numptie, ye know that?”

Being from Galar’s northern regions, she was primarily exposed to more flourished and expressive dialects. Ward, a native from the southern areas held a similar yet less sharp accent, seeming somewhat posh as opposed to her rowdy vernacular.

Ward grinned. “Maybe, but I’m still your numptie aren’t I?”

Sheila rolled her eyes. “Sure, sure whatever ye say.”

There was a welcoming presence that emanated from him, especially as he carried his meek little Sobble with him. The two naturally agreed to set off on their journeys together. Venturing across the region sounded much more gratifying with company. It helped that Ward had a knack for making her laugh.

They strolled along, admiring the relaxing ambiance. Galar had no end to beautiful landscapes; from its lush plains to even the pleasant lakeside they walked by. She knew firsthand that Ward had a distinct love for scenery, often being the tag along of every vibrant backdrop he stumbled across. While Sheila didn’t share the interest, spending these quiet moments with Ward was still enjoyable all the same.

Sheila briefly glanced at him, taking note of the way he softly cradled his starter Pokemon. Her heart flew from how adorable he looked, like a parent toting around his child. “Yer takin’ a real liking to the wee lad aren’t ye?”

Ward feigned a gasp. “Who? Me? You couldn’t possibly assume that I have an inherent weakness for this handsome bloke, yeah?” He even held the water-lizard in question up to his face like a doting father. Sobble appeared to enjoy the affections from how he chirped. From atop Sheila’s head, Matchstick replied to the little thing in Pokemon speak. It was satisfying to see that the two had got along well.

“Did ye figure a name for ‘im?”

“Not yet, love. You already named yours. Maybe you have some suggestions?”

“Hmm.” Sheila gazed at the tiny reptile timidly staring back at her. The Pokemon was well known for its anxious nature, often hiding in water and camouflaging itself. Her mind delved towards those exaggerated legends those foreigners from Unova speculated about monsters residing in the region’s lakes and oceans. “How does ‘Loch’ sound?”

Ward chuckled. “Loch? Cor blimey Sheila, have you been listening to tourists again?”

“Oh shut it, ya daftie. Tis a good name it is. Isn’t it, Matchstick?” Her Scorbunny chimed in agreement.

“I know, I know. I’m just joshin’, love.” Ward looked back at Sobble who contently snuggled against his trainer. “How’s that then, Loch? You like that name?”

For all of his joking tendencies, Sheila thought, Ward was indeed the nurturing type. He hadn’t had his starter for long and he was already caring for it so naturally. For all the time she knew him, he had always been like that; pleasantly affectionate with those close to him. It was one of the reasons why she fell for him after all. It would be a blessing from Arceus if those tendencies persisted to adulthood; Ward fondly telling her he loved her day after day, living an exciting life together in the city, minding their Pokemon like they were his children, children with Ward-

“Oi! Mates!”

Sheila silently thanked the stars that something popped her daydream before her blush became too noticeable. An energetic lass trainer approached the two of them with a confident strut. The attire she wore suggested that she may have been a student from one of the few trainer schools in the nearby area, no doubt a sign of experience. She brushed aside a strand of her blonde locks, the recognizable red and white ball in her hand indicating the obvious.

“Which one o’ you slags ‘re up for a Pokemon fight?”

Sheila perked up in response. She’d seldom done much battling after getting her Pokemon. To say that she was longing to see some action would be an understatement. Any excuse for a battle was good enough for her, however, only then did she realize that she had yet to see her boyfriend’s prowess since attaining his Sobble. Maybe he would’ve made for a good battle partner? She heard of some places around the region where trainers could opt for double battles.

“This one is!” With an assured slap on the back, Sheila shoved Ward forward. He glanced back at her, his nervous grimace replicating his starter Pokemon.

But I haven’t got a clue what I’m doin’! His panicked expression transmitted.

Dinnae worry, ye’ll do fine! said Sheila’s assuring grin.

Ward swallowed, looking back at his partner. Loch seemed just as apprehensive as he was. “Look’s like it’s jus’ you an’ me. Up for it, mate?” The Sobble squeaked coyly before crawling out of his arms and into battle. “I’m ready when you are, miss!”

“Let’s not dither then!” The lass readied her Pokeball, summoning her own partner.

Perhaps Sheila was right. Maybe he could do this. He certainly felt a bit more confident knowing that he had her to support him. She was his anchor in that regard, for which Ward had endless thanks for. He was confident. He was prepared. He was-

Pika-pika!

-screwed

--

Sheila winced slightly as Ward set his fainted companion down on his lap. She felt that loss, truly she did. Poor Loch didn’t last long, barely landing a couple of hits before the single winning thunderbolt was dealt.

“It’s alright, Ward,” Sheila gingerly patted him on the back. “Ye did yer best, pet! Ah’m proud of ye!” A tender peck on his cheek lifted a smile from him at least, though it was clear that his attention was focused on Loch. Even Matchstick clung to his leg in its own attempt to console him. “Come on then, Ah have some potions ye could use.”

Ward sighed, giving the fainted Sobble a gentle pat on his head before returning him to his Pokeball. “Can’t win ‘em all, yeah? Least we tried.” He mustered a smile back at Sheila.

“Now then,” the two’s attention was soon brought back to the lass trainer, approaching them with a haughty smirk of her own, “I think ya know what ‘appens next.” Her outstretched hand rubbed her fingers together.

Sheila couldn’t help but narrow her eyes somewhat. Sure the lass won, but that didn’t mean she had to be rude about it. Her eyes fell back on Ward, his initial reluctance eventually turning to regretful acceptance as he handed the trainer her winnings.

“Fair’s fair.” He scratched the back of his head. Battle winnings were something of an unspoken rule between all trainers yet it felt as though he was giving up part of his soul.

“Much appreciated, lad! Cheers for the quick dosh!” The trainer cheekily snatched the money from him. “Maybe stop by again next time when I need a new pair a’ shoes!”

Sheila instinctively balled her fists, sneering in irritation. Those cocky high and mighty types gave her a headache. She could handle a few nobodies trying to pass insults her way no problem but Ward was a different story. Who did this dobber think she was?! Galavanting like she could take on the Elite 4 or something.

“Oi ya posh, bleatherin’ cunt,”

Ward immediately paled.

Oh, bugger. “Sh-Sheila?”

A grim omen, he thought, whenever Sheila dropped a curse. The hotheaded trainer was a force mightier than a charging Rhydon when angered. Ward had witnessed it firsthand; stubbing her toe, dropping a bottle of soda pop, discovering her imported poffins were eaten. Arceus, Ward’s head still rang occasionally from the earful she gave him that day.

“Why don’t ye learn some manners ‘fore ye start jawin’ about yer ‘quick dosh’ nonsense?” She spat luridly. “Yer off yer trolley if ye think that’s how ye should be talkin’ to folks.”

The trainer turned to Sheila with a sort of blank stare, as though she was just now processing that she’d been insulted. Still, she maintained her snooty attitude “What’s that, then? You looking for a battle too?” The blonde shrugged her off. “I would but then it wouldn’t be very fair since ya little pleb mate nicked my Pokemon now would it?”

Sheila didn’t think twice before tossing a potion at the lass. To determine whether or not she was aiming at her head would have been a challenge. The lass merely glanced back at her in surprise, meeting nothing but a determined glare.

“Sheila, really, it’s fine! Just ignore ‘er, love.” Ward had a gut feeling that any attempt at talking sense into her was doomed to fail. She shot him an earnest smile, one that still was somehow laced a demonic intent that rivaled most dark types.

“Oh Ah’ll ignore her, alright.” She looked back at her starter who hadn’t even needed to be told to hop into the fray. “After Ah’m done teachin’ her some proper etiquette.”

--

Sheila strode to the defeated trainer with mocking similar posture to the one the lass gave moments prior. Matchstick triumphantly rode on his trainer’s shoulders, none the worst for wear aside from some frizzled fur. The lass helplessly stared at the defeated Pikachu at her feet, offering nothing besides a weary cry. There was nothing but pure shock strewn across her face.

Sheila leaned close, the very essence of smugness emanating from her in every way. “I think ya know what ‘appens next.” She made sure to speak using the lass’s exaggerated accent. Without a word, the beaten trainer begrudgingly handed over Sheila’s winnings before walking off.

Sheila was quick, however.

She snagged the trainer’s arm almost kindly as if she merely wished to offer some friendly advice before taking her leave.

With a suspiciously unsuspecting smile, Sheila leaned in close to the lass’s ear “Insult me sweetie again and ah’ll shove yer tow colored head so far up yer own arse that ye’ll be shittin’ teeth for months.” The lass trainer swallowed, nodding silently as meekly trodded off, head hanging low in embarrassment.

Sheila turned to her boyfriend, her smile simulating that of an innocent schoolgirl. Ward on the other hand, straddled the line between wildly amazed and utterly terrified. In the back of his mind, he wondered just how much of a rookie trainer she was to have given her adversary a crutch before battling her. It all seemed like something out of an action film.

“You know you didn’t have to threaten her like that?”

“Ah know. Ah wanted to.”

With a satisfied smirk, she handed him the prize money she just earned. Ward was initially hesitant to take it back. Sure it was his, to begin with, but nevertheless, he had lost it fair and square. To have someone have to win his money back for him felt…humiliating.

“Sheila, I don’t think-“

She forcibly seized his hand, plopping the small stack of money in his palm. “-that ye’ll have any problem treatin’ me to dinner tonight? That’s good news!”

There was a brief moment of confusion before the realization dawned on him. Ward couldn’t help but chuckle, exchanging a warm glance with her before Sheila gave him a tender peck on his lips.

Ward chuckled. “You’re a bloody angel, Sheila.”

“An’ dinnae ye forget it.” Matchstick as well chirped in agreement, earning him a kind scratch behind his ears. Shooting him a sly look, she strolled past Ward, now seemingly more invested in the pleasant weather.

“Aren’t ye comin’? It’s a lovely day for a ‘mosey’ innit?”

She turned back to him, extending her hand. Just as quickly, Ward followed along, intwining his fingers with her’s.

“That it is, love.”