Author's Note:

First of all, I do NOT own Pokémon. I do however own my intellectual ideas, characters, and plot in the story.

Fourthly, characters are based on real people but are not identical. Names have been changed to protect the innocent (and the not-so-innocent!), and any similarity to real life people or places (except for things EVERYONE should be able to pick out) is purely coincidental.

Fifthly, this is only a temporary title until I come up with a better one.

Finally, I know it's a long intro and game, but bear with me... I love soccer! Also, the events in the beginning of the story set up much of what will come in later chapters. I promise, it gets better!

Oh, and if you're wondering what happened to second and third, well, they were true some time ago but not anymore...

Now that's done with, on with the story!

I woke up to my alarm clock buzzing in my face. How I hated that thing... nothing better to wake me up than a shrill noise reminding me that I was late already.

I yawned, stretched, and jumped out of bed, heading for the things I had laid out the night before. It was going to be an interesting day... two soccer games in one day, against aggressive teams. We should have more than enough on our hands. I just hoped we wouldn't lose a player to some dumb head fouling us because she was too slow to get the ball...

I got dressed, slipping on a warm black sweatshirt that contrasted nicely with my golden uniform. Soooo professional. I strapped on my shin guards, ran upstairs and looked around for the rest of my stuff. There. Sports bag, icy cold water bottle, and soccer ball. All ready!

I left a note for my parents on the fridge:

"Left for soccer. Game is at 9:15, field 1. Will go to lunch with the team. Afternoon game is at 3:15, field 6. See you for dinner! Love,

Tasha"

That should do it for now, I told myself. I picked up the car keys in the kitchen, and took out the car from the garage. It was a small, old Chevy Impala, red and somewhat dirty. I must admit I'm not one to clean my car often, but then again I have no money to afford regular cleans...

The engine burst to life with a roar, and I was glad that there was a faint light rising in the horizon. The skies were clear and there was frost on the grass, which would soon melt away with the sun's warming rays. Spring... Sunlight came earlier every day, and the Earth warmed up to its rays. It was the perfect season, not too hot and not too cold. Life reborn, the plants donning their new, colorful garments. Soon the grass would turn a bright green, and the soccer fields would be ripe for the tournaments that would come in April and early May. No more patchy, frozen brown grass to deal with...

I backed out of the driveway, looking both sides before turning into my lane. I was in such a hurry to get to the fields that I didn't notice a black van parked in a cul-de-sac not too far away. It might have struck me as odd that it had what looked like a small radar on top of it, but I was too eager to kick a ball to pay attention to my usually quiet neighborhood.

I cruised through town, enjoying the ride. Looking at my watch, I realized that I had plenty of time. It was 7:45 a.m., and I lived just a short drive away from the fields. Then again, the city was so small that it could be crossed from one side to the other in less than half an hour, with stop lights and all. I debated where I'd like to go for lunch, but then decided to leave it to the team. It was a democratic society after all...

Soon the inviting tan buildings turned into fields of brown, faint green, and golden grass swept by gentle rustles of wind. I knew that the wind would probably turn into a full-blown gust in a few hours, but we could adapt for that. Soccer players were tough, especially in this part of the country where snowstorms appeared out of nowhere as late as June. The only reason to cancel a game or a practice was lightning, and even then we only waited in our cars until it passed by.

I turned into Field 1's parking lot, mostly a big empty patch of frozen dirt. There were only a couple of cars already there, and I hoped one of them belonged to the coach. Otherwise, I might have to warm up with no net for the goal, and I would have to chase after my ball every time I took a shot. Oh well, more practice for me.

I parked and sat in my car, resting before going outside. I mentally reviewed our strategy for the game, making sure no possible variable was missing. We had our defensive line, or as we called them, the fortress. Two wing defenders, one stopper and one sweeper in the middle. Swift, coordinated, and agile, they easily took care of any ball that came within range of the goal. Then there were the three midfielders, who received the ball from the defense and ran it up the enemy's half of the field, passing from side to side and tiring out the enemy. Once they were in position around the enemy goal, they bounced the ball off of each other and delivered to our forwards. Now here was the killer strategy: our forwards were fast and furious, unstoppable once they had possession of the ball. They were like a team of hawks, closing in on their prey. Any shot at the goal was a danger to the other team. I smiled. We had bred our strikers well.

I sighed, the already-rising adrenaline in my veins making my feet itch to get out. I took my bag and jogged to our team's bench, noting with pride that I was still unbeaten to the field. A captain should never be beaten to the battle field, I always told myself.

I ran a lap around the whole field, inspecting it as I went. There were old battle scars on the field, places where the kicks taken had been so hard as to take off some grass as well. No big holes or dog poop, which was good. There was nothing so disgusting as running full speed down the field and realizing that you just stepped on something smelly and squishy...

I stretched thoroughly after my lap, watching other people around me as I did. I saw a coach unload his stuff and carry it away from where I was, and I knew for sure that he wasn't from around town. If he had been, he would have parked on the other side and carried his things a shorter distance.

A few electric blue players gathered at their bench, shivering and complaining loudly. I smiled and shook my head in amusement. They were sitting down with blankets wrapped tightly around them. There was no better way to fight off the morning chill than to run a bit.

I heard a voice behind me call my name, and I turned to see my coach in the distance. She was heading this way, with two other girls in her wake. I recognized my teammates, Kayla the stopper and Sam the goalie. I grinned from ear to ear, unable to hold back my joy. They were, after all, my best friends, and I knew I could trust them completely.

I ran up to them and took one of the ball bags. "What's up, my brilliant defense core? How are you feeling today? Solid? Fast? Furious? By the way," I asked, lowering my voice, "what news on that little plot of ours? Can we get all the things we need?" We set down our things by the bench and huddled closely.

Kayla grinned mischievously and replied, "We got everything but the Saran-wrap. We'll go look for some on Monday, OK?"

"Sounds like a plan! Hey, Coach, let's put up the net so we can start on some drills!" I ran eagerly to the goal, taking the bucket that contained the net from the Coach's hands. We set it up and started a drill, Kayla defending, Sam in the goal, and me attacking.

Slowly but surely, more golden players trickled onto the field by groups. We had set up carpooling according to zones to make sure everyone could get a ride to the games. Little groups of three or four grabbed a ball and dribbled around the field, warming up while we waited for everyone to be here.

"All right girls, let's take a run down the field and back, half speed!" I shouted, waiting until our team had lined up before taking off on a fast jog across the field. We matched each other step by step, keeping a straight line all the way across and back. We did the drill a couple more times, working harder with each run.

"Stretch!" I told them, and pointed to Mica mischievously.

"What! Oh, no, not me! Come on, Tasha, you know I really can't do this without cracking up halfway through..."

"No complaining or you're doing it for the rest of the season!" Mica shot me a mock glare while we crowded around her, following her stretches and working our way through our body.

"Tasha, the refs want to see the captains!" I jogged up to the refs and nodded as Coach whispered, "We want this side first to avoid shooting with the sun in our faces" when I passed her.

We flipped a coin and our team won, so the starters lined up and the game began. It was obvious to me that this team would be no problem for us. As the center midfielder, I could see all that was going on in the game. The other team's defense got nervous when we got close to them, and one of our strikers smirked when two red players almost collided trying to get the ball away. We were up by two points in no time.

The game went by in sprints up and down the field, with our goalie touching the ball only once in the whole game. I must say, we were probably a pretty intimidating team, but that was a good thing. The other team automatically lowered their game play as soon as they wrote us off as invincible.

I was shocked when the final whistle blew, and I ran with my teammates to our bench, bathing in the applause from our support parents. We cheered for the other team, shook the refs' hands, and took a cool down jog down the field. One game down, one more to go, I told myself.

"So, where shall we go to lunch?" I asked the team when we gathered our belongings.

"James' Shack!"

"Great Harvest!"

"McDonald's!" We burst out laughing and it took a long time for us to calm down. "We want to be able to move for the next game!" I joked, crossing my arms and tapping my foot. We finally decided we would go to Sandy's Subs, a local restaurant that we often visited. We had a blast, talking probably too loudly for everyone else's liking and giggling uncontrollably when the other customers glared at us.

After an hour or so of eating, we piled into our cars and drove down to our next field, where we set up once again and sat down to talk for a while. At 2:25 sharp we began warming up again, looking forward to another victory. This time our enemy was a team of tall, aggressive looking white-and-black clad players who shot killer looks our way.

"This is going to be interesting..." Nicole, a wing midfielder, mumbled as one of the girls made a rude gesture at us.

"Well, we know for sure that we can go all out on them. Just don't hurt yourselves, I can't breed any more players for this season if you all go out and kill yourselves!" We gathered for a group cheer before the game started, and I told myself that we'd need to keep our players fresh for this game. We had already played once this day, and we wouldn't be able to give as much as if this was the first game.

The game began anew, and I noticed right from the start that this was no fair team. They fouled us from behind, tackled us, and pulled on our hair to get at the ball. By half-time, I saw a tired, insecure team gather from the field. We were tied at one, but our confidence was nowhere near the usual level.

"Hey, gather around. We need to talk about what's going on..." I said, thinking as the team gathered. What could get us up off the ground?

"I know they're a physical team, I know they're aggressive, but I know also," I looked into their eyes, one by one, "that we have more skill and stamina in each one of our players than their whole team combined. They've only intimidated us for the moment, but now we know how they play and we can take advantage of it. Did anyone notice that whenever they feel pressured, they kick the ball out? We can make use of that. Did anyone notice also that they're not quite fast on their feet? We can make use of that, too. It's just an aggressive team, and if we can get past that, we're sure to win!"

We took a last drink of water before the 45 minute half started, then we came back onto the field. I smiled encouragingly at the team, and signaled for a few strategy changes. "Don't forget what we talked about..."

There was a significant improvement in our game play. I guess it was due to the fact that we were a proud team, and we were angry. We scored within the first ten minutes of the half, and took heart from this feat. We were more aware of the other players' intentions, jumping as they slid towards our ankles and retaliating with tackles of our own. We even joked from time to time.

The other team was tired by now. I could see it from the way they ran half-heartedly towards the ball, taking longer and longer each time to fall back to defend their own goal. It got to the point that they only stayed in their goal, unwilling to race down the field and attack us. They just didn't have the energy to compete with us anymore.

I grinned wolfishly as the other team kicked the ball out just barely out of our half. I turned to the coach and said, "Bring out the Hawks!" Time to finish this once and for all...

The three strikers stood up and waited a little impatiently for the ref to let them in. Another advantage we had: we could switch out players to avoid exhaustion. The other team couldn't afford to do so.

They were finally let in, and ran to their positions grinning and laughing. As soon as we took the throw in, they got their feet on the ball and swiftly made their way up the field. It was hard to keep up with them, but the whole team pushed up to avoid letting the other team take a fast counter-strike and as a kind of support. Not that they needed any or that we were worried about the other team, we did it out of habit.

"Yesss!" Another brilliant goal. We now stood at 3-1, which is usually the point at which the other team crumbles. Few people ever managed to turn this score around, and I was sure of our victory. The ball got sent back to midfield, and the other team started again, even more tired (if that was possible) and aggressive. The game was getting dangerous, because when a team has nothing left to lose in a game, they go at the other players without a care for red cards.

It was thus that we got a penalty kick. I let Emma take it. The forward had a strong, accurate kick, and stood at 5'11'', intimidating for a short goalie like the other team's. She didn't let us down. The ball whizzed in through the top left corner, making a soft whoosh as it came into contact with the net. Beautiful.

Fifteen minutes left and we were up by three. We were ecstatic by now, trying out daring strategies and playing around with the ball. Then the crushing blow came. Emma and the other two forwards, Kim and Tina, juggled the ball to the goal and managed to get a corner kick. Kim took it this time, and sent a flying ball just a few feet from the goal, perfect for a header. Needless to say, Emma was waiting. The tall forward jumped up and headed the ball in right next to the post. There was no question now: we had won.

The ref signaled the end of the game shortly after our last score, and we all ran through the field, laughing and singing We are the champions at the top of our lungs. Sam's parents let loose their dog, an Australian shepherd named Molly. Molly ran with us and jumped on our feet, causing a few of us to fall flat on our faces, giggling and laughing with the joy that comes with winning a tough game. We ran a victory lap around the field, our heads held high and our hearts beating in our chests, then joined together for a final stretch. I took the opportunity to talk to the team before we parted until our next practice on Tuesday.

"You guys made me proud out there. We were able to pull ourselves together and make them remember our team with fear. This will be a great season, and I can't wait until the real challenges begin! I can honestly say that I wouldn't trade this team for anything," I said, smiling as some of the players blushed.

"Well, 'Captain', let's go for some ice cream, shall we?" Sam grabbed my arm and dragged Kayla and I to the parking lot. Sam had parked right next to the field, while I had left my car on the other side of the parking lot. We were crossing to our cars when a black sedan appeared out of nowhere and sped towards me. It tried to stop, tires squeaking and raising up a cloud of dirt. I had just enough time to jump out of its way, landing in a heap of stuff on the parking lot. Ouch, that landing hurt. Did I mention that the parking lot was nothing more than a big empty dirt and rock patch?

The sedan drove away, without so much as an "I'm sorry". Come to think of it, its windows were all dark, and I wasn't able to see the driver past a black shadow inside the car. How enigmatic... I nervously told myself that it was probably one of the defeated girls' parents, half-joking and half-serious.

Anyway, the rest of the evening went on without a single glitch. Kayla, Sam and I had some ice cream, talked about what girls usually talk about (namely boys, prom, and boys again) then we headed home. It had been a long day for me, mentally and physically demanding, and I was ready to hit the sack. However, I wasn't allowed to. I took a long, steaming hot shower that relaxed me to the bone and stepped out to find my parents... and a slip of paper in their hands. Turns out, I was supposed to baby-sit the neighbors' kids for a couple of hours. I sighed and packed a few things to take along with me, namely, a book, a cell phone, and the usual knick knacks that I carried with me in my purse.

At least the kids that I baby-sat were not rowdy, rebellious rug rats who ran around wreaking havoc… As soon as I turned on a movie of their choice, they sat contentedly through it, occasionally dozing off, their heads nodding with the weight of sleep upon them. All I had to do was sit by them and read a book, tuck them in, and make sure there were no monsters under their beds. There never were… but perhaps I should have checked outside the window.

I'm getting ahead of myself. I sat through the whole "Jungle Book" smiling from time to time as memories of my own childhood came back to me. Then, when the movie was over, I took the kids to their beds, grinning to myself as the small, living zombies walked to their respective rooms, yawning and complaining that they were "not tired… zZz..."

The parents got home, thanked me, and sent me off to my house with a nice wad of bills in my pockets. Perhaps now I could catch up on some needed sleep. I could even sleep late the next day, then go look for that Saran wrap we sooo needed for Monday's little adventure.

I got home, wished my parents sweet dreams, went down to my room in the basement, and barely managed to get my pjs on before I kissed consciousness goodbye.

A radio hissed with static, then a flat voice asked, "So, is she the one we're looking for?"

A face shrouded in darkness and hiding behind black sunglasses smirked and replied in a low tone, "She'll do. I believe she will… bond nicely with our proposed specimen."

The static began again as a dark sedan slowly drove off into the night, making the slightest noise possible.

A/N: Well... Long intro, long game, not the best but only my second fanfic published. Hope you read, like it, and review!