When (stupid) people ask Jim how he got his Jolteon, he usually makes up a story on the spot. His favorite one, especially in bars with attractive girls around, was how there was a flood and a tiny child was nearly swept away, and Bones was valiantly trying to save it and so Jim rescued them both.
Or else he tells them how he got Bones on his tenth birthday, curled sleeping in a box with a ribbon around his neck (half-chewed off), a Pokeball beside him and three shining elemental stones in a case, waiting for Jim to decide what his new partner would be come.
Bones especially likes that one. His fur goes all smoothed and pleased, and he coos "teeeeon" at their audience.
The fact of the matter is, Jim met "Leonard Horatio" of the McCoy Eevee Farms one dark and stormy night. It was near Jim's birthday, at least, but nothing about it was adorable. Bones was huddled in the middle of the road, as if he couldn't move another step, and was just waiting to die.
And he was protecting the Egg, of course.
Jim still doesn't know how Bones ended up there. The McCoy people said he'd been stolen about six months back, when Jim asked them later. At the time, though, he just stopped the bike so the light shone on the Eevee huddled on the road and swung off. He walked closer, as calmly and quietly as he could manage, crouching down a few feet away from it.
The Eevee hunched into itself and bared its teeth weakly.
"I'm not going to hurt you, buddy," said Jim. "Nasty looking paw there. Hurts a little, huh?" The paw in question looked like the Eevee had chewn it out of a trap, actually. "Hullo," he added. "What's that?" He looked over the egg as carefully as he could without getting close to the Eevee, and then sat back on his heels and thought. He had some Pokeballs in his saddlebags -- he was doing research for Pike -- but if he went to get them, the poor thing would limp away. And it was clearly ill, all skin and bones with a weak growl rattling around its chest.
Jim decided to take a chance. Pokemon were a hell of a lot smarter than most people gave them credit for -- and Eevees were smarter than most.
"Hey," he said softly, reaching out an open hand, just out of snapping range. The Eevee followed his motion with his eyes warily, folding itself even more tightly, if possible, around the egg. "You want to get that paw looked at? And that baby out of the rain?"
The Eevee's ears unfolded slightly from their tight fold against its skull. Jim stretched his hand out further. He knew if the Eevee wasn't half dead, he would have been staring at nothing but a bloody hand, but as it was, the Eevee reluctantly allowed him to touch his back, and then to scoop up it and the Egg and tuck it between his shirt and jacket. The creature shivered against Jim's torso, docile in the prospect of warmth.
A minute later, they were speeding toward Professor Pike's lab.
But Jim doesn't tell that story to anybody, not really. It's not cute, and it doesn't attract girls.
Besides, Bones doesn't like it much.