It happened when they went out on a date to a bar.

Not some hipster or trendy club or some dirty divew bar, but a respectable neighborhood bar in Cerulean, kind of like Cheers or one of the nicer bars in a college town. Ash and Misty frequented this bar often, it was one of their favorited.

It was nice and relaxed–if by relaxed you mean, a laid-back atmosphere. Ultimately, it was a nice place to go to have a few drinks and a conversation with friends and lovers.

And in case you're wondering, Ash and Misty are indeed old enough to go to a bar and have a few drinks.

Over the course of the evening, they conversed and fraternized with a wide variety of people, most of whom were aware that the top trainer in the land and the Cerulean Gym Leader were in their presence, but through their conversations, they eased up. And so did Ash and Misty.

But it only took a few drinks for things to go a LEEEETTLE bit wrong.

At some point, Ash found himself discussing baseball with some local guys. The Cerulean Starmie were leading their division, and Ash was pretty confident they were going to win it. His debate oppoents were sure the Goldenrod Arrows had a better chance to win their respective division than the Starmie had to win theirs.

In the midst of this heated debate, Misty snuck up behind him, tackled him a little bit and wrapped her arms around her boyfriend's neck. "Come OOOOONNN, Ash!" she whined. "Come and spend more time with meeee!"

"But Mistyyyy!" Ash whined in his equally-ineberiated way. "I'm talking basebaaaaallllllll!"

"Bab-wha?" she asked. "Baby? You want a baby, too?"

Ash spat his beer out, turned and stared in utter shock at Misty.

It was pretty obvious it was time to leave.

"But I want a babyyyyyyy!" Misty drunkenly whined as Ash dragged her out of the bar.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

Ash was relieved he didn't have much of a hangover the next morning. Yeah, he didn't feel so well, but anything's better than a jackhammer to the forehead.

And Pikachu understood his trainer's misery. Didn't mean he felt completely sorry for him.

"Pikapi," he said. More like disappointed.

"I had a nice night," he said.

Misty came downstairs, holding her head and flopping face-first onto the same couch Ash was sitting on. "I'm never having whiskey, tequila and vodka again," she groaned.

"Yeah, um, I can understand," Ash said. "By the way, when you said you wanted a baby–"

"No, I don't!" Misty moaned. "I'm 22, I'm not ready for a kid!"

"Then why'd you say it?"

"I was drunk!" Misty replied.

"Well, yeah, but–"

"I don't know what came over me!" she rolled onto her back and shielded her eyes with her arm. "I'm just not ready for a kid."

"But I'm sure we'd make good parents," said Ash.

"Yeah, you're right," she said.

"Let's just wait a while, okay, baby?" Ash asked.

"Don't call me that."