Memo was secretly glad that Andrea had backed him on his Important Life Lesson routine. There was nothing as devastating as engaging in a ‘The More You Know’ bit when your acting partner was only there for bloodsport.

He let go of the children’s arms and Corazon quickly filled in, rounding them up and herding them towards the apartment.

“No idea,” Memo whispered back, trying to hide the fear in his voice. “I was just planning on a bucket of hot water and soap and going to town.” Which could’ve been a euphemism for something else, but whatever. He frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “The problem is these kids’ parents donate a lot of money to the Rangers so if I fail at this I’m-- well, I don’t know, but I doubt it will be good.”

Back in the elevator, only two extra buttons got pushed; soon they were back on their desired floor, and bustling in the apartment door. Memo winced at the mac n’ cheese on the walls and the disarray in the sink.

---

mission: babysitting duty

Andrea Vaneau

☉

"You're gonna need a LOT of soap to get rid of that." Andrea observed. Even if the two of them worked together, there was no way they'd be able to clean up this mess before the triplets' parents arrived. This level of disarray was simply too much for any human to deal with. Unless...

"I have an idea!" The young PokéManiac declared, a metaphorical lightbulb flashing above her head. "Let's teach those kids that Pokémon aren't just meant for battling. Is there a PC nearby?" She asked, looking around the apartment. Granted, she could just go to the nearest Pokémon Center, but time was of the essence.

Guillermo Marceliño

☉

One of the last times Andrea’d had an idea she’d gone completely feral-jungle-girl and dug a bunch of sinkholes with spikes in them; but also, she’d had the great idea to do a Pokemon battle to keep the kiddos intrigued, so not everything she came up with was-- well, ‘bad’ wasn’t accurate. Drastic? Maybe. Still, Memo was inclined to trust her, so he led her to a nearby office off the main living room/kitchen area that had a PC just for Pokemon in the corner next to a file cabinet.

Corazon kept the children busy in the living room, herding them onto the couch.

“What’s your idea?” Memo asked, peeking around the corner to make sure the children were behaving, then ducking back into the office and flipping the lights on. If there was a waver in his voice it was just nerves, not doubt.

---

mission: babysitting duty

Andrea Vaneau

☉

Hey now, there were no spikes in those sinkholes, and feral-jungle-girl was the BEST idea! Everyone knows that good stories thrive on fanservice. Anyway, Andrea made her way to the PC system, quickly logging into her account. "It's time to introduce my two newest friends..." She simply replied to a nervous Memo.

Soon, the eccentric trainer returned to the living room, holding two new Pokéballs. "Come out, Chico and Chica!" Out of the balls, a Lotad and a Chikorita respectively came out. Still fledglings, the two unevolved Grass types warily observed the unfamiliar surroundings, awaiting orders.

"Chico, shoot your Bubble Beam over there!" Andrea pointed at the mac n' cheese-covered wall. The Water Weed Pokémon shot a stream of freaking bubbles out of its tiny mouth, covering the wall and the floor in a thick, yet easily breakable layer of suds.

"Now Chica, fill the room with your Sweet Scent!" In turn, the Chikorita spun the leaf on top of its head, unleashing a sweet aroma that made everything in the room smell minty fresh, covering up the stench of stale dairy product.

The dragon-hooded woman turned back to Memo. "Your Stoutland should be able to handle the rest. Its fur is like a giant mop!" She said, pointing at the suds, though she also grabbed a regular mop from the bathroom just in case.

Guillermo Marceliño

☉

Andrea made quick work of coating the room in suds, turning the apartment into a veritable car wash-- if the car wash cleaned the inside of the car and the car was also an apartment. Memo blinked spots out of his eyes. The stress was making him delirious.

“Great idea,” he said, voice a little weak but still a hundred percent behind his friend. “Cora, you know what to do.”

The Stoutland rrruffed from where she was minding the (now snoozing) children and began speeding around the room, sopping the suds up and spreading the soap around at the same time. Memo grabbed a sponge and began tackling the dishes, nervously checking his watch at the same time.

It wasn’t perfect, of course-- the walls still had a slightly rainbow bubble sheen and the floors were the kind of sticky that comes from cleaning ingredients. But it was better than having ketchup and cheese stains everywhere.

As they were wrapping up, there was a knock at the door, and the sound of the key turning in the lock. Guillermo froze, mid-reach, placing a cup in the cabinet--

--when the regular nanny walked in.

“Oh, wow,” she cooed, not bothering to look up from her phone, “place looks great.” She kicked her shoes off and strode to the couch, plopping down next to the children and casting something from her phone to the TV.

“Thanks for covering meeeee, you can go,” she said, waving them away with an arm over her head.

Memo was too tired to stay and argue, so he bundled up Cora and Andrea and they all made it out into the hallway, shutting the door behind them, before he exhaled a loud sigh and leaned forward on his knees.

“Holy shit,” he said, “glad that’s over.”

---

mission: babysitting duty

Andrea Vaneau

☉

The apartment was cleaned, the day was saved, and the world's most incompetent nanny was back on duty. Making their quick getaway like heroes galloping off into the sunset, the two trainers responsible for setting things straight took a much needed reprieve on the quiet, children-free hallway.

"It wasn't that bad." Andrea mused, while giving Memo's arched back a good rub with her hands. "The children were wonderful. It was pretty exhausting, though... Why didn't you stay to meet the parents? Didn't you say they donate to the Rangers? You could've taken all the credit and even asked for a raise." The draconic cosplayer pointed out.

Money had no intrinsic value to her, but it probably mattered a lot more to Memo, what with him being a freelance artist with no family to rely upon for financial support.

Guillermo Marceliño

☉

“Easy for you to say,” he said, giving her a shaky smile and standing up straight, feeling the vertebra in his back pop. “You… have a lot more energy than I do.”

The side of the hallway was mostly windows-- big, tall ones that looked out over the front of the apartment complex, the Rustboro skyline, and the cultivated greenspaces beneath. Memo pressed his face into the glass, not caring about the smudges.

“I am planning on meeting the parents--” he said, voice muffled against the glass, watching as a very swanky car pulled up in the apartment turnaround. The valet opened the rear-seat doors for two very well dressed individuals. “--I’m just taking it right to the source.” His smile turned the tiniest bit wicked as he continued to the elevator, thumbing through his phone to the damning text conversation with the kids’ normal babysitter.

“It’s a bit of tattling,” he allowed, punching the button for the ground floor elevator, “but it’s also my civic duty to let them know that the person they hired is unreliable. And that the Rangers had their backs and they should really keep us in mind when our next charity fundraiser comes around.”

The elevator doors slid open in front of them. "I don't plan on actually getting paid for this-- just the credit for saving the day. But when you're in Slateport next, let me know. Dinner's on me."

---

mission: babysitting duty

Andrea Vaneau

☉