Chapter Text
A couple of startled fletchling take off as he opens the rooftop door and slinks out. Their irritated chirping disappears into the early evening street noise, and Noir sighs, ignoring the ache and flickering light by the door.
“We’re both getting too old for this,” he grumbles, taking a sip from his off brand instant coffee. He’s not sure what feels more illegal, his habit of dodging the million cafes in town to drink the cheapest caffeine approximation on the market, or these nightly excursions. Not that it really matters. “Coast is clear,” he says, as he settles on the edge of the roof.
With nearly ritualistic precision the scuffed, hidden pokeball in his inner pocket rustles and a set of claws skitters up his hunched back and settles on his shoulder.
The pinch at the lobe of his ear is just as expected. He doesn’t flinch, taking another sip.
“Gonna give me a scar one of these days, Nibs. It’s fine. Do your thing.”
The rattata’s whiskers tickle his chin before she jumps down, sniffing the air attentively. Then she dives into pulling out the berry he’d stashed in his bag for her.
The light flickers again, more rapidly. Noir hums at it, watching the street, but nobody’s paying attention up here.
He likes unwinding like this, seeing his old companion not cooped up in her ball, it’s a good moment. Noir runs a hand through his hair as his shoulders loosen up, the day’s weariness easing up.
Then the thin sliver of the new moon disappears.
“Nibs, run,” he manages to shout a second before he’s knocked over.
Noir is aching in brand new ways as he comes to, a weight pressing him down into the grubby rooftop flooring. He finds himself staring at a piercing yellow-green eye, which scans him attentively. It lingers for a moment, blinks slowly, then the dark face turns, and he’s greeted by a massive, fanged maw gaping over his face ---
“Bluebell, stop it,” a voice says, and Noir more hears than sees something wapping the beast over the snout.
Noir does not appreciate the comedy, scrambling back in an undignified crabwalk the moment the pressure lifts off his chest. He reaches the wall by the door, heaving for air, his vision swimming. He can faintly hear Nibs hissing somewhere nearby. Noir scoops her up blindly, feeling her fur bristle under his hand, and he wishes he could make her leave. but she’s always been willful.
“Do you need a hand,” the voice from before says.
“Back off,” Noir rasps, his breath still ragged. “What the fuck.” He closes his eyes, forcing himself to take a deep breath and count. He gets to four before he lets it out and rubs at his eyes.
The gargantuan noivern perched on the edge of his little rooftop sanctuary has thankfully shifted its attention to his bag, kicked to the side in the scuffle.
A shadowed figure appears, tugging at its furry neck ruff, attempting to distract it probably.
Noir groans, not so much because he’s hurting though that also factors in, but rather because the style of the stranger is outrageous enough it can’t possibly be anything but a dedicated trainer. Or a lunatic. Same difference.
“How’d you get here,” he asks, wincing at his own voice.
“Fly,” the stranger says, tone rather flat, but Noir would still swear they’re amused.
Yeah, normal people do not run around with nightmare murderdragons that know fight moves. He laughs, and even he can hear how panicked he’s sounding.
The stranger takes a step closer in what little floor room is left, crouches down and holding something out.
“Give her this,” they say.
“Uh,” Noir answers, eyes shifting from the monster to the offered item.
A berry. Noir isn’t sure what kind, he’s never bothered learning more than a few basics, it doesn’t come up much when you do your best to sell you have nothing to do with pokémon whatsoever.
He can feel Nib’s shaking body under his arm, buried in his hoodie and refusing to budge, whiskers and claws against his skin. He takes the berry.
“Bluebell, treat,” the stranger says and the noivern’s head swivels towards them.
Noir freezes as the beast steps closer. Its head looms over his hand in a swift motion, and he’s sure it’s gonna bite off his whole arm, but it gingerly snatches the berry out from between his fingers with its fangs. Then it settles back, cheerfully throwing its prize to the sky and snatching it out the air.
“Good girl,” the stranger says, then turns their face towards him. “There, all better. She likes you.”
Noir makes a sound somewhere between you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me and no.
He wearily watches the stranger fuss over their pokémon for a few moments, the uncomfortable silence stretching to fill the space.
The light’s near gone, leaving the blotted out stars and grimey wall lamp by the door to give Noir any sense of what’s what. Even without the yellow tones, he’s pretty sure his unwelcome visitor would appear a little unkempt.
They have dark skin and hair, a neutral face that doesn’t seem to do much expressing judging by the last few minutes. He knows exactly what they’re focusing on though, that’s easy enough to pinpoint, they’ve got a gaze like a fearow on the hunt.
Which would all be fine, if it wasn’t for the entirely too much unruly hair, the dark long coat with tattered edges and purple lining, and the matching tattered scarf and gloves. Noir refuses to acknowledge the goggles. Or the feather stuck to them, giving the appearance of a moth’s feeler.
They’re keeping an uncomfortably keen eye on him while scritching their flying beast under the chin. Said flying beast is rumbling happily in whatever passes for purr. Noir’s never seen any dragon types up close before now, and he could’ve lived happily without the experience.
“Ok,” he says finally, easing himself up against the wall next to the door. “Who the fuck are you, and what’re you doing on my roof?”
The stranger lifts an eyebrow minutely. “I’m BB,” they say evenly. “I didn’t know you owned the building.”
Noir snorts. “I don’t, just live here, close enough to count. Answer the question.”
BB pulls out a crumbled, rolled up bit of paper and hands it over.
It takes a moment to get it smoothed out enough to make sense of, but when he does he blinks.
“Lumiose Museum?” Noir asks, holding up the pamphlet.
BB nods, or at least Noir is fairly sure that tiny dip counts as a nod for them.
“Hang on, is this what you used to drive off your murderbeast with?” he asks.
Another minute nod and a similarly underplayed shrug is the immediate response. “She smelled the berry juice on your face,” BB adds like that clears everything up.
“The what,” Noir says, glaring in the Pokémon’s general direction.
BB lifts a hand, pointing at their own hair. Noir doesn’t even get to think it though, just lifts his other hand and feel the sticky spot at his hairline. “Dammit,” he grumbles.
“I figured you wouldn’t appreciate Snow grooming you,” BB clarify, patting the creature’s side. “Take a break,” BB tells it, and it’s gone without a fuss.
Noir hates that he sighs in relief but he can’t stop himself. BB seems entirely unbothered, turning to look at the view mostly consisting of windows and rooftops.
Neither of them speak for a few seconds eternity.
“Little late to be on outings,” Noir says, prodding the beaten up pamphlet back at BB. “Museum's closed for the day.”
“Noted,” BB answers, taking it with barely a glance back. They’re seemingly preoccupied with the skyline.
“Great, so, are we done here? Because I have some brand new trauma to drink away,” Noir says, shifting his weight to try and ease Nibs into a better position.
“We could do a battle if you like,” BB says, like that’s totally reasonable after sky tackling somebody at their own residence.
Noir stares at their back.
“No,” he says sharply. “Absolutely not. I am not a trainer.”
“You have a Pokémon,” BB states absentmindedly.
Like the absolute fool he is, Noir looks down and ok he has to admit even with the dinghy light Nibs isn’t exactly inconspicuous. She might be on the small side but she’s no ghost.
“No I don’t,” he still tries, because maybe BB didn’t see.
“You gave a command,” the observant jerk says, just as calm and sure as ever.
“Run isn’t a command, it’s just common sense when you get dive bombed by a monster.” Noir says flatly.
“Not in that tone. And you admit it’s yours then?” BB’s turned their head, clearly interested in his reaction.
Noir groans.
“Ok, fine, yes I have a Pokémon. Do you seriously think I’m gonna pit my companion against your freaking dragon who knows fly? She’d be mauled. What do you think I am, crazy?” He knows it’s stupid, he shouldn’t even be arguing this, but he’s talked himself warm and he never did learn to stop.
“Of course not,” BB says, turning fully to watch him. Noir can’t read that tone and the neutral expression isn’t helping. “I have other Pokémon.”
“Of course you fucking do.” Noir answers, exasperated “Well congratulations, still a hard pass.”
“Very well. May I see her?” BB says, gesturing vaguely towards Noir’s chest.
It could just be a general gesture, but if he really believed that he’d be a bigger fool than he is. “Sure,” Noir answers a smidgen sarcastically. “Not like she’s hiding or anything. Good luck getting her out of her spot.”
BB raises an eyebrow, their eyes moving down to his hoodie. Noir frowns. Okay so that sounded halfway to an invitation he didn’t intend.
“Not like that. I’m not gonna help you.” He clarifies awkwardly.
“Understood,” BB says and settles on the ground, pulling out something that looks vaguely like a muesli bar.
The city noise seems very far away as he stands there, vaguely wondering if he should just walk off. Not like he's promised anything.
Then Nibs twists, nudging her head free of the hoodie's neckline, sniffing the air.
“Sellout,” Noir mutters after her as she takes off, gingerly approaching the smell of food.
“A rattata. I thought that was what I'd seen,” BB says, breaking off a bit of whatever it is they have and throwing it in the direction of Nibs.
“Mm,” Noir hums in agreement, It’s not like he can claim she's a particularly weird delcatty.
“Not a common sight in Kalos,” BB remarks, their eyes tracking the hesitant but curious movements of Noir’s pokémon.
“I know,” Noir says, willing himself not to bite his teeth together.
“Probably because of the paperwork,” BB continues. Nibs takes a couple of steps towards the bit of food, then backs up a bit.
“Uhuh,” Noir agrees, thanking the great stupid birds they’re not looking his way, Noir is pretty sure he just went about two shades paler.
“Trainer registration, transfer protocols, vaccines…” they go on.
“Oh for the love of Mew, just threaten me directly and get it over with,” Noir says, throwing up his arms. “No, I don’t have the paperwork, it’s an illegal pokémon, I admit it. I'm a criminal.”
“Oh, sorry,” BB says, head turned to look him over. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Huh,” Noir answers dumbly, his shoulders falling.
Nibs has grabbed the whatever-it-is and is happily gnawing on it, safely withdrawn far enough away from BB to be out of immediate reach. Noir is just staring at the scene, because what the heck is he supposed to do with an apology like that?
“She’s mature,” BB says, throwing another chunk a bit closer to themself.
Noir shrugs. This is a weird conversation he shouldn’t be having.
“It’s not easy, taking care of a Pokémon that isn’t native. Even if you aren’t doing it in secret.” BB says, paying entirely too much attention to what he’s doing. Noir folds his arms and looks away.
“Is this some kind of strange passive aggressive extortion technique?” He asks tiredly. It’s been a long day, not counting the whole 9 hour shift.
“It’s an offer of help, if you want it.” BB says.
Noir snorts in amusement. “Do your offers of help usually start with tackling?”
“No,” BB says. “And if you’d been tackled by Snow for real, we’d be having an entirely different conversation. One involving doctors and an uncomfortable amount of lawyers,”
It isn’t that funny, but Noir still laughs. “How many is that?” He can’t help asking.
“Any” BB answers, gently sending off the last bit of mystery food.
Noir realizes he really maybe should’ve at least questioned what that was before now. Nibs is pretty poison sensitive though, more than him at least. She’ll be fine.
“Mmm, true,” he agrees with BB, half distracted.
“You look tired. I shouldn’t keep you occupied,” BB says a bit later, sliding into standing with a swiftness and ease of a striking persian. Nibs scatters at the movement, finally retreating to her pokeball.
“I’d say I’m sad to see you go, but I’d be lying,” Noir answers. He turns his head, frowning at the skyline. “...they’re gonna try to sell you on the audio guide at the museum. It’s decent enough, but pretty superficial. You’re better off looking up any paintings you like in the shop’s book section or online if you want my opinion.”
“Thank you for letting me know,” BB says, does that miniscule nod they seem to favor again. That's when about half the sky blots out, as Bluebell the oversized beast of a Noivern unfolds her wings, and they both take off.
Noir sighs in resigned relief, taking in the now weirdly empty space. He grabs his bag, which luckily seems to be untouched.
“Oh, dammit,” he mutters, looking at the wet patch on the roof a little further off. “That was my best mug.”
It’s too late to do anything about it now. Noir shakes his head and goes inside.
His apartment feels strange, even though it looks exactly like it usually does in the evening. Noir frowns, flicking on the light and dumping his bag by the door. He needs a shower and probably a check of what Nibs managed to do to his chest while hiding. Some of the scratches are stinging uncomfortably now that he's paying attention.
“Guess I kinda deserved that,” he mutters.
Nibs emerge, doing her little ‘gee you think’ tail waggle.
“Not like I’d planned being ambushed by a stranger. But fine, I’m sorry ok? I don’t like doing it either. At least you got a snack, all I got was scratched up”
Nibs whiskers fold back, head dipping accusingly.
“No, the noivern, remember?” he points to his elbow and now that he’s got better light and time to actually pay attention they look pretty torn up actually. Noir winces. Nibs makes that concerned sound he’s always hated.
“Ok that’s uh,” he says. “Worse than I remembered. I’ll pull through though. You know I will.”
Nibs twitches her whiskers. The light flickers.
“Thanks for laying low,” he says.
His phone buzzes, a single thumbs up sitting in his unread messages.
He rolls his eyes but can feel the small smile on his face.
“so. I think we pulled off Plan Decoy, but we better be on high alert. I don’t like risking anything with how close we got here,” Noir says.
He knows they're listening even if he can’t see them.
“That means no sneaking off with me Dot, don't pretend you wouldn’t. And no hacking.”
His porygon makes a sound like a jammed printer from its spot in the local network. Noir sends it a friendly fuck you gesture as he walks into the bathroom, only stopping long enough to kick off his shoes by the door.
Noir shuts the bathroom door and gingerly starts the process of peeling off the hoodie.
He has got to fix himself up before work tomorrow.
He doesn’t need any prying questions.
He bites down, keeping quiet as he clears up the cuts and scratches. Cleaning out the hoodie debris from his torn up elbows takes some gritted teeth and silent swearing, but he manages.
The t-shirt he’s wearing is thankfully clean enough, and with everything patched up nobody will notice.
He sees Nib’s watchful eyes as he exits. Dot’s retreated into whatever system it’s been toying with lately. But he knows it has enough cameras and other sensors to see him.
Noir gives them a V-sign before he heads straight for his bed.