Title: Oh, What A Dance
Prompt: #56: Danger Ahead
Pairings: Hints of Ash/Misty.. Until about the fifth one-shot "chapter".
Rating: K+
Warnings: Not great quality, but this was really fun to write. A fairly lame prom-story.
Notes: A set up of five mini-chapters, this one's pretty much the shortest. I tried to make it funny but that may have been an epic fail. If you have time, send me a challenge or a prompt or a one-shot request. Feedback's great too.
Nope… wait…. Nope, still don't own Pokemon. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this.
--
"Be sure when you step,
Step with care and great tact,
And remember that life's
A Great Balancing Act…" – Dr. Seuss
--
"And which idiot are you going to convince to do that?" Misty laughed, catching her own eye in the little pull-down mirror of Brock's beat-up old pick up.
The simple question that would seal her fate and cause so much trouble.
"Well..," was Brock's answer, his squinting eyes briefly pleading with hers before his attention returned to the road. It wasn't long before she caught the honest distress in his voice. She promptly switched to refusal mode.
"Brock! I can't believe you'd even ask me that!" And she couldn't. Misty wasn't exactly the epitome of the 'Perfect Right-Hand Man,' and she just couldn't fathom why Brock would implore her, of all people, to serve as his third wheel. "You know I'm not that into dancing… A-and I have things to do! Ask someone else!"
She made a spontaneous attempt at escaping the truck, but couldn't manage to get the piece-of-crap door open. The handle merely gave a fruitless wiggle, no matter how much weight she threw into it. It probably wouldn't have been a good idea anyway. Leaping out of a moving vehicle never seemed to produce good results.
"Come on Misty… I need someone to help me survive my first night spent with an actual female -" he chose to ignore his friend's conspicuous eye roll, "-and since you're one of my closest friends, I thought you'd be a good candidate!"
"Brock..," she began, rubbing her face in her hands, "It's kind of late to get a date, isn't it? Don't you have to have a date to get into the Valentine's Day dance? And why don't you ask Ash? He'd probably be more enthusiastic to do this than I would!"
Brock gulped. Hard. He pulled into his gravel driveway and gripped the steering wheel tightly.
"And that's the other thing…"
"What, Brock?"
"Umm…"
"Just say it!" Misty growled.
"Well, I was kind of hoping… You and Ash could go together." He immediately curled his body into a ball, covering his head with his flailing arms.
"WHAT? Brock, no!" Misty's face revealed her opinion, even more so than her verbal reaction. "I can't go with him! What, now I'm incapable of finding my own date?"
"You just said you thought it was too late!" Brock retaliated, bravely glaring at her through the crook in his arm. "And besides, Ash is your best friend! It's not like it's a real date! You're just there for moral support, and it can't hurt you to just hang around with him like you always do."
Misty paused then, unsure of how to respond. It wasn't as if she couldn't stand one night with Ash - they didn't even have to dance - and then… there was always the chance…
"Maybe Ash'll even kiss you after the slow dances," Brock winked, scurrying out onto the driveway before Misty could make the connection between the words and what he was implying. The contents of her makeup bag scattered across the driver's seat as she hurled it at his retreating form.
When her tan friend had disappeared, Misty succumbed tiredly into her seat and groaned. These situations were just typical of her life. People using her for their own gain weren't an uncommon practice for her friends and family.
"Why?" she moaned miserably, "Why me?"
--
["Kid, you'll move mountains."]
--Lunamire