Sexual Tension

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"Cleaning," I said with a blank face, looking down at the dusty, Mothim-eaten chef apron. "I come here to get more information about the goals of the Pinchers and about the legends of Oblivia... And your first thought is cleaning."

Ben, who was wearing a similar apron, shrugged. "Well, you can't blame me."

"Actually, that's exactly what I was planning to do."

He put up his hands in defense. "Hey, you can't tell me that you haven't wanted to repair this place."

"I wanted it to be repaired. I never said that I wanted to—"

"And now I've blessed you with that opportunity," He cut me off with that infuriating lopsided grin. "You're welcome, by the way."

Of course I wanted to help repairing the house. In fact, I was all for helping! But I was looking forward to a day devoted to studying and reading. Any little bit of information would help us at this time. Plus, I was too tired to clean and I couldn't very well tell him why I was tired.

But I eventually gave in and helped Ben. We started in the kitchen, sweeping and dusting the counters and floors. Even the Pokemon were pitching in. Jet waited patiently for us to get done dusting so that he could help provide the water for mopping. Eve was lifted onto the counter so that she could dust with her fluffy tail.

"We don't have soap." I pointed out.

"There's a bathroom with some soap that smells like old lady perfume." Ben said. "The water isn't running in the house, so I wouldn't recommend using the bathroom, though."

"Would that be enough?" I asked.

"I didn't check under the sink, but there should be more. If not, we were planning on going to the market, right?" Ben said, getting out all of the silverware and plates out of the cabinets (though he wasn't too sure about going to get the rest out of the dining hall, seeing as I told him about the flying plate ordeal.)

"Yeah, but we were planning on doing that around lunchtime. We just had breakfast an hour ago, Ben." I reminded.

"That's true." Ben mumbled.

"Also, I understand the urge to fix this place up, but that's going to take a lot of time and effort! We don't really have the time lately with the Pinchers—"

"Voicemail! Voicemail!" My Styler buzzed.

It was Keith.

I accepted the call. "Hello?"

"What's going on, Empoleon?" Keith asked. I could almost hear the cheeky smile in his voice.

"Good."

"How about Ben? Is he still a smartass?"

"Screw you too, Keith." Ben automatically replied.

"Ah, there he is." Keith laughed.

"So, how's my sister? Is she enjoying her vacation?"

The line went silent and I thought the call had dropped.

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