Disclaimer: If you recognise it, I don't own it.
Author's note: This story contains Gymshipping; if you don't like, don't read. I wrote this story a few years back, and recently rediscovered it. Hope you enjoy!
Out of the Blue
Brock sat in the plane, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. It had been a long flight from Sinnoh, and he was beginning to cramp. Turbulence throughout the flight had meant that chances to move around were few and far between. There were not many passengers aboard, and most of them were either reading or dozing.
He had spent a good portion of the flight flirting with the sole air hostess, enjoying a rare moment without being jabbed. Croagunk was safely in the airplane's hold with the rest of the passengers' Pokémon, a safety precaution after the infamous "Arbok on a Plane" incident several years ago. Likewise, there was nobody to pull his ear, like Max or-
A loudspeaker crackled to life, breaking through his thoughts. "This is your pilot speaking," the tinny voice said. "Due to heavy fog in the Pewter-Mount Moon area, our flight has been diverted to Cerulean City Airport. We apologise for any inconvenience."
Speak of the devil, Brock thought to himself. I think that I'm finally safe from Misty, and now I'm ending up in Cerulean… there go my chances of getting a date tonight. It'll be good to see her again, though.
Half an hour later, the plane began its descent. Once the plane finally came to a standstill, Brock quickly picked up his rucksack and headed towards the front of the cabin. He smiled at the air hostess, who winked back and handed him a piece of paper with her cell number on it.
When he reached the terminal building, Brock could hear angry shouting. "What do you mean, you can't offer free accommodation!?" a rotund, red-faced man was blustering to a desk attendant.
"I'm sorry, sir. Our policy is to only offer a flight to your intended destination, and the next flight to Pewter City leaves tomorrow. Of course, you are free to arrange alternative travel, or your own accommodation," the attendant said, his smile remaining in place.
"It's your fault for booking a budget airline!" the angry man's wife screamed at him.
Brock quickly moved away, searching for the baggage collect. He retrieved his Poké Balls - safely secured in a metal lockbox with his name taped to it - and took it to the counter to receive the key.
"Some people, huh?" he told the clerk, vaguely motioning to the couple, who had moved away from the desk and were now bickering amongst themselves.
The clerk smiled. "Travelling brings out the worst in people," he remarked. "It's nothing I haven't seen before." He unlocked the box, and Brock clipped his Poké Balls to his belt. "Here's your ticket for tomorrow's flight. Would you like me to reserve a hotel room for you?"
"No, thank you," Brock said. "I have friends in Cerulean that I can stay with."
The couple were still arguing as Brock passed them. He studied a large map, conveniently located on the wall next to airport exit. Fortunately enough, Cerulean Gym was within walking distance, less than a mile away from the airport.
Brock entered the gym. A blonde figure was visible behind the front desk, reading a trashy romance novel.
"We're, like, about to close," the blonde said, not looking up from her book.
"I'm here to see Misty," Brock said. Daisy finally looked up.
"Oh. It's, like, you," she greeted him. She looked about, as if expecting to see someone else. "Where's Misty's boyfriend?"
"It's just me. Ash isn't here," Brock replied.
"Oh," Daisy said. She sounded sceptical, as if she expected Ash to be hiding somewhere. "MISTY, YOU HAVE A, LIKE, VISITOR! IT'S BRAD! YOU KNOW, THE GUY YOU AND YOUR BOYFRIEND, LIKE, USED TO TRAVEL WITH!" she yelled, not bothering to get up from the desk.
"One, it's Brock. Two, Ash wasn't my boyfriend. And three, DON'T YELL AT ME!" Misty said as she entered through the door leading to the pool. Brock drew in a breath as he laid eyes on her. Her skin was slick with water, and her hair was let down; she had obviously just finished swimming. In the years since he had last seen her, she had most definitely matured. His eyes slowly started to move downwards…
No no no Brock, you can't think of her that way! Brock's mind screamed at him. He forced himself to pull his gaze back to Misty's face. That beautiful face… snap out of it Brock!
"Hiya, Brock! Good to see you again!" Misty was saying brightly, and walking over to him.
"Oh… hi, M-Misty," Brock said, and suddenly she was hugging him. Brock stood there awkwardly, blushing and not exactly knowing what to do. Finally, he gingerly returned the hug. Meanwhile, he could see over Misty's shoulder that Daisy was smirking.
If Misty had noticed anything amiss, she showed no sign of it. "What brings you here?" she said, drawing away from him but still smiling.
"Uh…" Brock said. He shook his head slightly, trying to clear his thoughts, but it didn't work. "Um, my divert got flighted. I mean, my flight got diverted. Heavy fu- fog! Fog! In Pewter."
"O-kaaay," Misty said, looking at him strangely.
Pull yourself together Brock! "And I was wondering if I could stay here overnight?" Perfect.
"What do you think, Misty? Would your boyfriend, like, mind?" Daisy said, still smirking.
"Ash is a friend, that's all!" Misty snapped. "And of course you can stay, Brock. I'll dry off, and then show you to the guest room." She returned back to the poolroom.
"Soooooo, like-" Daisy began, but she was interrupted by Croagunk bursting out of its Poké Ball and slamming a glowing hand into Brock's back. Brock crumpled to the floor.
"…Never mind," Daisy said, sweatdropping, as Croagunk started to drag his prostrated body away.
"Here's your room, Brock," Misty said, leading him down the hallway. "Bathroom's down the hall to the left."
"Thanks, Myst," Brock said. He mentally slapped himself, realising his error as Misty stopped dead in her tracks.
"'Myst'? No one's called me that since…" her voice trailed off.
"I'm sorry," Brock said. "I didn't mean to remind you of-"
"It's fine," Misty interrupted. "As I said, bedroom's here, bathroom up the hall to the left. I'll let you settle in." She quickly walked away, leaving Brock staring at her swiftly retreating figure. He sighed and entered the room.
As he flopped onto the bed, a piece of paper fluttered out of Brock's pocket. Picking it up, he noticed that it was the napkin the air hostess had given him, with her number on it. He sighed again. The stewardess seemed like a distant memory now. But he was hot and bothered, and since Misty was obviously off-limits…
He picked up his cell phone and keyed in the number. He hesitated for the briefest of moments, let out a breath and finally pressed 'dial'.
"Hello, this is Tamara speaking," said the voice in a professional tone. What are you doing, Brock?
"It's me, Brock."
"I'm sorry, it's a bad line. I didn't quite catch that," the voice replied.
"Brock. The guy from the plane. You gave me your number," he clarified, realising that she didn't remember him at all.
"Oh. Hi, cutie," the voice immediately took on a more flirtatious tone. "You want to come over?"
"Uh… I guess."
"Wow, you sure know how to make a girl feel special," Tamara replied, an edge of sarcasm creeping into her voice. "I'm at the Cerulean Airport Hotel, Room 236. See you soon." A dial tone met Brock's ear.
The door opened, and Misty entered. She flopped down on the bed beside him. Brock quickly stood up. Misty sat up and looked at him.
"Brock, is everything okay?" she asked, concern apparent in her eyes and voice. "You've been acting… I don't know. Weird."
"Weirder than usual?" Brock quipped, and let out a laugh that sounded fake, even to him.
"Brock, you know you can tell me anything. I care about you."
She means as a friend! Brock mentally reminded himself. "There's nothing wrong. I just thought I'd head out for a bit, see the sights of Cerulean."
"I'll come with, then. I can give you a tour of the city, and we can catch up, too."
"Uh…" Brock said, considering this. He couldn't believe that he was even considering standing up a hot stewardess. And for Misty of all people, the one who had ruined his chances with so many women. "Sure." Wait, what? Brock, you idiot!
Misty flashed him a brilliant smile, and Brock immediately regretted his decision. If a smile could affect him that much, how was he going to get through an entire evening with her?
"And this is my favourite French restaurant," Misty gushed. "It's so romantic!"
Calm down Brock- "It's getting late… we could grab a meal, if you'd like to."
"Why Brock, are you trying to seduce me?" Misty said coyly. Then she started to guffaw. Brock awkwardly joined in. "That being said, I don't get to eat here as often as I'd like…"
Brock looked down at his street clothes. "I don't think I'm dressed for the occasion."
"Me neither," Misty said, laughing. You look beautiful to me, Misty. "They're probably booked solid, anyway. Maybe we'd better get takeout instead."
A few minutes later, the two of them slid into a booth at a pizza parlour down the street. "What'll it be, folks?" the waitress asked them.
"Hawaiian's your favourite, right Misty?" Brock asked. Misty nodded in reply. "We'll have a large Hawaiian, please. And I'll take a Coke…" he looked inquiringly at Misty.
"Me too," Misty added.
"Large Hawaiian pizza and two Cokes, coming right up," the waitress replied. "You guys make a cute couple, by the way."
"Oh, we're not-" Misty started, but the waitress had already moved to the next table. "Huh," she continued. "I never thought of us that way. It's kinda weird, right?"
"Right," Brock said, forcing a laugh.
"Oh, don't get me wrong, you're a great guy," Misty was quick to clarify. "It would just be weird, because we're friends, you know? Same reason I wouldn't want to date Ash."
Well Brock, at least she doesn't find you repuls- wait, what did she just say!?
"But- but- I always thought you had a thing for Ash!" Brock burst out, unable to contain his surprise.
"It wouldn't matter if I did. He barely ever calls anymore, and being a gym leader doesn't exactly leave much time for my personal life. Honestly, I don't know how you managed to run a gym and take care of all your brothers and sisters."
"Good time management, I guess," Brock said, shrugging his shoulders. It had been tough at times, and he'd had barely a moment to himself, but at least money and housing hadn't been an issue thanks to the Pokémon League's monthly stipends. He knew that there were many families in Pewter that were not so fortunate.
"Here you are, darls," the waitress said, interrupting his thoughts and placing the pizza and glasses on their table. "Enjoy!"
After thanking her, they each grabbed a slice and shoved it into their mouths. "I didn't realise how hungry I was," Misty mumbled through a mouthful of pineapple and crust. Brock nodded, melted cheese trailing down his chin. But his mind was on other things. If Misty doesn't have a crush on Ash… I wonder… no, Brock! She already said the thought of you being together was weird! The two of them ate in silence for a while.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Misty said, watching him carefully. She put down a half-eaten slice of pizza. "You can't fool me, Brock. I know you. And I know there's something bothering you."
Brock continued to munch his pizza, making a noncommittal grunting noise.
"I mean, you used to be a massive flirt, but you haven't even-" she broke off, and her eyes lit up. "Ooh, is that it? Do you have a crush on somebody?"
Brock stood up quickly, not noticing as his phone fell out of his pocket. "I'm going to the bathroom," he said.
"I'm right, aren't I?" Misty exclaimed, wearing a slight smirk. "Who is she?" Brock didn't answer. "Or are they a he?" Misty asked. "I won't judge you if they are!"
"They're not!" Brock said defensively, realising his mistake a few seconds later. "Uh, I mean-"
"What you mean is that you do have a crush on someone!" Misty crowed. "You can tell me, Brock. I probably don't even know her."
"Misty, it's really none of your business," Brock said, before moving quickly towards the bathroom.
"I was just asking," Misty muttered, sinking back into her chair. "No need to bite my head off."
As he entered the bathroom, Brock felt for his cell phone. He was wondering if it was too late to ditch Misty to hook up with Tamara. "Crap," he muttered, as he realised that his phone was no longer in his pocket.
He finished his business, and then returned to the booth where he found Misty talking on his cell phone. "Ah, he's here now," Misty said. She covered the microphone with one hand, and looked at Brock disdainfully. "It's your… 'date', Tamara. She didn't seem pleased that I answered your phone, but I explained that we were just friends." She then thrust the phone towards Brock.
"Hello?" he said, tentatively.
"Listen, Brad, you should have told me you had a girlfriend. If there's one thing I'm not, it's a homewrecker."
"It's Brock. And Misty's not my girlfriend."
"I've heard that one before. Hooking up with guys who are involved, it's more trouble than it's worth. Don't call me." The line went dead.
Misty was still looking at him disapprovingly. "I know you're a flirt, but I didn't think you were that type of person." She grabbed him by the ear and dragged him outside the restaurant, the few remaining slices of pizza lying forgotten on the plate.
Brock's temper flared. "It's none of your business who I spend my time with. You gave up the right to judge me when you left," he said, forcing his voice to remain even.
Misty's temper rose, too. "I didn't have a choice! And I don't want to see you make a mistake!"
"So now I have to get your approval before I can even look at a woman? Now it makes sense why you're always dragging me away by the ear."
"I only did that because they weren't right for you!"
"And why do you get to decide who is right for me?"
"Because I know you, Brock! I like y-" she broke off suddenly, a blush spreading across her face. She turned and stomped away.
Brock ran after her, his previous anger forgotten. He reached out a hand to grab Misty by the shoulder. To his horror, she was shuddering, and he could hear the telltale sniffles that indicated Misty was trying not to cry. Her eyes were squeezed shut.
"Misty, I'm sorry," Brock said.
"It's not your fault," Misty replied, her voice catching. "God, it's such a cliché."
"What is?" Brock asked, but he had a feeling he already knew.
"Young girl leaves on a journey. She gets a crush on her older travelling companion. They part ways. Eventually she thinks she's over him, but then he drops back into her life. Her old feelings come roaring back. She tries to deny her feelings, even laughing off the suggestion of anything happening between them. Because he's never looked at her twice. I know, it's-"
She was cut off by the feeling of another set of lips pressed against her own. Opening her eyes, she looked into Brock's face as it met hers.
"-pathetic," she finished, but there was a small smile on her face. "Please tell me you didn't do that just because you felt sorry for me."
"Misty, you might be a little grumpy at times-" he fended off the incoming slap. "-Let me finish! As I was going to say, you can be cranky, but you're one of the most amazing people I know. You have so much inner beauty, and I honestly don't know how I missed it all this time. I think… I think we could maybe be more than friends… if you want to see where things go."
"Do you mean that, Brock?" Misty asked. She sounded slightly suspicious, as if he was playing a cruel practical joke on her.
"I do," he confirmed. After a brief pause, he added, "You've got a lot of outer beauty, too, which doesn't hurt any." This time he allowed her to swat him lightly. They both laughed as the two of them walked slowly back in the direction of the gym, the sun setting over the ocean, and their hands intertwined.
The end.