I decided, as a challenge, that I'm going to start a little project entitled, as you can probably tell, “A Day in the Life of a Gym Leader.” Contrary to what the name implies, it will actually be a collection of 32, possibly 40, oneshots about each of the gym leaders, beginning with Brock. Be warned, there will be a fair amount of headcanon involved, but hopefully nothing too extreme. Also, this is Game-verse.
Brock slammed his glass onto the counter of Pewter City's own Musty Attic tavern. If he was even slightly in his right mind, he probably would have questioned for the tenth (or was it the twentieth?) time why bars tended to have such idiotic---if somewhat fitting, he noted with a sniff---names. As it was, though, he had about five shots of one-hundred proof whiskey in him, almost enough to bring down the hardest of men.
With watery eyes, he glanced up at the flat-screen television that was poised above the bar. It looked surprisingly expensive for a bar so... let's just say it was something of an eyesore. He strained to decipher the words and phrases spraying forth from the narrator's mouth. It sounded like some sort of documentary. He pulled his face into a grimace with the force he put towards trying to understand the words. They came to him, slowly...
“Despite the exploration team's best efforts, however, the rare, oddly colored Pokemon eluded detection. The rumored red Gyarados failed to appear, even fleetingly, to the crestfallen team...”
Nothing of interest to a Rock-type specialist. He slumped from his position, leaning against the flat surface of the bar with his hand on his cheek, to rest his head on his arm, face down. He let out a slight sob as the emotions inside of him twisted and turned. It all came back to one, specific, pink-haired girl: Nurse Joy.
He tried so hard, every day, to impress her. Whenever a challenger lost in his gym, he would personally see that they brought their Pokemon to the Pokemon Center, and would even help treat them himself. He would hang around the Center in his free time, chatting and flirting with her, and usually she seemed to return the feelings. But whenever he brought up the topic of a possible date between them, she would always shoot him down.
With another sob, he called the bartender over for another drink.
“What's gotten into you, Brock?” the barkeeper asked.
“Urgh...” he grumbled drunkenly. “S' Nurse Joy again.”
“Ah, I see.” The bartender leaned over by him and set down the glass he had been drying. “Y'know, Brock,” he murmured, “I know you like Nurse Joy and all, but don't you think it's about time you try for a different girl? Something's bound to come your way. It just isn't a good idea to spend all this time getting down over her, y'see?”
Brock glanced up at the barkeeper, a half-joyful, half-disappointed smile on his face. “Know what I like 'bout you, Mickey?” You're always... always down... d-down 'n real. You're a real pal, brother.”
Mickey smiled and went back to his duties. “What you say,” he called over his shoulder.
A new girl... He could try that, Brock decided. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be any really obvious (or good, for that matter) choices. There was Misty... but no, she already had a boyfriend, and she was rather monogamous. He could try Sabrina, but he rather enjoyed his masculinity, thank-you-very-much. That left Erika and Janine, but Erika was too uptight for his tastes and Arceus forbid Koga let him get within ten miles of the master ninja's daughter. What to do, then...?
Just as he was about to give up, a girl about his age approached him and hopped up onto the barstool right next to him.
“Brock? Is that you?” she asked excitedly.
“”D'pends. Who's askin'?” was his gruff reply.
She blinked rapidly when their gazes met and glanced at her feet briefly. “I'm Robin. Robin Banks? I used to help you dig up rocks on route 3.” She chuckled. “It's been a couple years since then, though, so I'm not surprised you don't remember.”
“Robin... Robin...” his lips spread in a warm smile as he began to recall (although it was difficult with his blood alcohol level. Then again, he did begin to sober up at the memories). “Ah, yes, I remember now. You were the one who helped me find the fossil that became my Omastar!”
“Yes, that was me.” She chuckled nervously. “It's been forever since I saw you, and I was in town, so I thought I'd look you up, just for old time's sake.”
That didn't make sense. How did she know he was in the bar?
“Well, alright... but why would you think I was here, of all places?”
“Oh, ah, well...” she coughed briefly. “About that. I remembered you talking about how much you loved this one brand of whiskey, and then when I got here and went to the Pokemon Center, I heard Nurse Joy fuming about how you would never leave her alone, or something like that, so I just assumed you would be...”
Brock smacked his forehead. That was the last thing he wanted to hear right now. Pretty soon, the entire city would know that he had gotten rejected big-time. With his luck, they'd start laughing at him about it and no one would be able to take him seriously anymore.
“Pfft,” he snorted, “Nurse Joy? Who needs her? I'm free as a mountain rock without her!” he declared, lifting his head to the ceiling and beating his chest with his fist.
She smiled weakly at his, in her eyes, undeserved pride. Still, he was a good guy, even if he was a little in over his head.
He turned back to face her. “So. If you're here for old times sake, what do you say we go to my place? We can catch up, I can show you my fossil collection, maybe we could watch a movie, or something?” he asked with a sly smile.
“Sure,” she smiled, “I'd like that.”
Brock gave Mickey a little wave, indicating for the barkeeper to put the cost on his tab, and led the girl to the door. Inside, he was celebrating. It looked like his streak of bad luck was about to come to an end.