Disclaimer: If "Pokèmon" was mine, I'd use it to achieve world domination. Ha, ha. Only kidding. I'd use it to achieve universal domination...
Warning: First of all, it's Egoshippy. If Pokèshippers don't want to read this, I completely understand, but please guys, don't flame me over it. Oh...and of course, the obligatory fluff warning ;)
"Saturday Morning Cartoons"
"Get
up! Get up!" Misty tugged impatiently at Gary's sleeves.
He
groaned and rolled over. "It's seven-thirty," he mumbled, "on a
Saturday! Misty..."
"Get
up," she insisted. "Don't you want to watch cartoons?"
"Cartoons?"
Gary echoed. He rolled onto his back and realized her face wasn't two inches
from his. "Cartoons? Misty..."
There
was something challenging about the smile that suddenly broke across her face.
"What?" she demanded.
"Misty,
we're too old for cartoons! We're adults! We're..."
"...We're
both off work Saturdays," she giggled, "so we can do what we
want."
"I
want to sleep till noon." He rolled over again.
"No,
you don't.
Gary
could hardly believe his ears, but he didn't roll over and he didn't say so. He
just mumbled into his pillow, "Yes, I do."
"No,
you don't."
"Yes,
I do."
"You
don't!"
"I
do!"
"No,
you don't!" Misty shook him until he was, somehow, lying on his back
again. "You want to get up and watch cartoons with me," she insisted.
Gary
was beginning to realize that ultimately, he wasn't going to get his way.
Still...he was determined to resist her as long as he could.
Which
wasn't going to be very much longer. She shook him again. "Please,"
she whined, switching tactics slightly. "Pleeease, Gary."
"Misty..."
She
pouted. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to roll over; she tugged, yanked,
and smacked him. "Get up!" she ordered, reverting back to her
less-gentle approach to getting what she wanted.
"All
right! All right! ALL RIGHT!" Gary finally consented, stumbling out of
bed. "Just let me get dressed..."
Misty
interrupted, "You don't need to. I'm not," gesturing to her body,
still clad in an ankle-length blue nightgown that Gary had always insisted was
'for children.' He personally thought she'd look better in something
sexier...like lingerie, maybe. Red. Or black. Or heck, nothing at all. He'd
heard of several women that slept in the buff.
He'd
mentioned this to her on numerous occasions, every time resulting in a fight
and, ultimately, a blow to his head. "And how, Gary Oak," she'd
demanded once, hands on hips, "do you know about other women sleeping
naked?"
"Girls
gossip," he'd explained, "so do men. They just gossip
about...different things." Instead of being his ladder out of the hole,
however, that had just dug him in deeper.
Bearing
that incident in mind, he figured it was probably best to do what she said.
Besides, how could you say 'no' to a girl with eyes like hers?
Still...he
wasn't walking around in his living room in an old, stained T-shirt and plaid
boxers. The whole neighborhood did not need to know what he looked like before
he got dressed.
Then
again, Misty had a point. Why get dressed just to watch cartoons? He looked
down, giving himself a once-over. Well, he didn't look that bad...
Wait.
What was he thinking? He was Gary Oak. He always looked great!
Except
at seven-thirty on Saturday morning...
Misty
seemed to possess the ability to read minds. "Don't worry so much,"
she chided. "Nobody's going to see you. I think the neighbors have better
things to do than look in our windows." Sensing that she now completely
had the upper hand, she stood up. "Togetic's asleep, so it won't even
interrupt us." He heard he going downstairs. A few minutes later, and
there was noise. Voices. The television.
Gary
sighed. 'Togetic's asleep.' He contemplated that. 'Won't interrupt us.' He
followed her down the stairs.
"Misty!
You know what? As long as we're on this 'do whatever's fun' kick..."
The
neighbors sure as heck would *not* have anything better to do than look in
their window *this* morning.
