Prompt: "Daisy Oak/Leaf.

Girl next door? Neighbor's attractive older sister? Experimentation? Yesplz."

Pairing: Daisy/Leaf

URL: thread=6108940#t6108940

Format for the URL is .com[slash] [question mark], followed by what I have above.

A/N: And, suddenly, in the middle of not being sure how to get started with this fill, I wrote it in first-person. Go figure.

"Good morning, Leaf!"

I look up. "Oh, hey."

She leans her arms of the windowsill, not quite sticking her head out at me. "What's up?"

"I was just going to see the Professor," I reply. "See if he'll give me a Pokémon today..."

"Grandfather's away today." I groan at that. "You really are in a hurry to leave, aren't you?" She rests her head on her arms. "Why?"

"How could I not be?" I scoff. Then I think of something I've always wondered about. "Why didn't you ever leave?"

"Oh, being a Trainer's not for me." She smiles that light smile of hers and jerks her thumb up, indicating the upper floor. "And I think I knew Gary would leave one day, and we can't all run off on journeys."

"We can so."

"Well, take your mom for example; she grew up here. One day that's going to be me... Just think about it—someday I'll be the crank old Grandma Oak who runs this town."

I laugh. It's hard to imagine Daisy old, or especially cranky. Probably from growing up with her brother, she's the most tolerant and downright nicest person I know... Hell, sometimes it almost bothers me how she doesn't get mad about anything.

But I don't say any of that, of course. I say, "Grandma Oak? Who're you gonna marry around here?"

It's her turn to laugh. "I guess no one."

"So it'll be someone from out of town? You're to drag some poor guy from Saffron to live here?" I can't see anyone wanting to move to this town. Don't get me wrong, it's a great place to grow up in, but there's no reason to be here past your teens.

"I didn't say that." Her smile's a bit hard to place. "But anyway, I'll talk to Grandfather again and see if I can convince him to give you a Pokémon." She winks. "I know you're ready, Leaf."

Like I said, the nicest person I know. I grin in thanks, and wave good-bye. "Seeya!"

"See you," she says, and pulls back from the window and closes it.

o – o – o

Bulbasaur. Bulbasaur. Bulbasaur.

Professor Oak is still droning on about his Pokédex project and other crap I couldn't care less about, but I barely hear him. All I can think is, I'm gonna have a Bulbasaur.

When the Professor's done with his speech, it's all I can do to keep from grabbing the Poké Ball out of his hands. Finally, he gives it to me, and I'm so incredibly to see my Bulbasaur come out of that flare of light.

And I don't even like Bulbasaur! I just like the Venusaur they evolve into!

The rest of my day I'm walking on air, doing last-minute packing of my bad for my journey to at last get started. Bulbasaur assists by grabbing things with his vines—is this great, or what?—and soon I'm out the door after a hug good-bye to my mom. She knows I'll be back enough not to be down about it, and to tell the truth we had the real long farewell like a month ago when I first thought I was getting my Pokémon.

Drawing in one last breath of Pallet air, facing the gateway to Route 1, I feel great. I'm on my way, and nothing can stop me now!

o – o – o

Of course, thirty fucking minutes later I'm back in Pallet Town, Bulbasaur is fainted, and to top it off it starts to rain.

I lost to Gary, but it's not my fault! His Pokémon were way higher level than mine. He must have gotten his Charmander from 'gramps' before I got there, and he was training while I waited...plus, Charmander has a type advantage over Bulbasaur!

My mom told me she'd take care of Bulbasaur, but that it would take a while and he'd have to rest, so I'm stuck doing nothing and feeling miserable. A real city would have a Pokémon Center that could do it in seconds, but no, this is Pallet Town!

I'm wandering around in the rain when Daisy opens her door and shouts at me, "Leaf, come inside! You're getting soaked!"

Well, yeah, I know that, but I head over anyway. Daisy runs out and meets me halfway with an umbrella, which while she's holding it over me (I wonder why she bothers, I am already drenched) doesn't quite cover her own head. We make it inside and she shuts the umbrella and the door.

I look around. I don't want to sit anywhere with my sopping wet clothes, but I'm feeling a little self-conscious standing there with my shirt turned practically see-through. Daisy sees my glances and points at the nearest chair. "Sit down, please. Don't worry about the water."

I really want to flop onto the armchair with a sigh, and in any other house I guess I would. But for some reason I can't make Daisy cleanup my mess.

"No?" She regards me as I shrug awkwardly. "Then I'll get you a change of clothes." I open my mouth to protest, but she shushes me with a finger on the lips. "You'll be freezing. Come with me."

We traipse up the stairs to her room. Immediately I recognize some things that are still there and notice some that aren't, and it surprises me because I haven't thought about Daisy's room in a long time. Back when I was a kid, my mom had me go over to play with Gary, but I always ended up hanging out with Daisy. We were friends back then, even though she was older, and I guess we kinda aren't now, but she's obviously still super friendly to me. And then there was...well...

Okay, it's embarrassing, but when I was little I had a crush on her. I never had any siblings and it just seemed so cool that she was the older sister of a kid (a boy, even) my age and obviously the boss around the house. I never told her or anything, and I, you know, grew out of it.

Just...seeing the room is reminding me of all that stuff.

And she's definitely growing up into a woman. I mean, she's not a lot older than me or Gary, but she's way more mature emotionally, and definitely more pret—Oh my God, what am I thinking?

I crash land back in the present, stammering a little (God damn it, I sound like an idiot) saying thanks when she hands me some of her clothes. She walks out of the room and starts to close the door, then sticks her head back in and says, "If you need any underwear, just grab some out of the bottom drawer." And then she's gone.

Did she have to offer that? I undress, and much as I'm hoping otherwise, I realize my bra is a bit too wet for comfort. I was wearing thin clothes; it was such a warm day...

I open the bottom drawer, and I'm already reaching for the topmost item before it hits me that I'm digging through Daisy's underwear drawer. My heart gets a funny soft feeling and I feel it speed up; that only serves to make itself worse because I don't like how it feels. Or I do.

It's just girls' underwear. I am definitely not a pervert. I think.

Daisy calls, "Down here!" when I emerge from the room wearing her (wonderfully dry) t-shirt and shorts. I walk downstairs and see she's got a pot of tea boiling. "I'd ask if you wanted anything else," she says, "but you probably want to get out of here as soon as you can."

"Yeah," I say, nodding. Then I shake my head. "No. I don't know."

We both sit at the table while the water bubbles and the rain taps in the background. "So, exactly what happened?" she asks. "If you don't mind telling me."

I don't mind telling her. "Gary beat me." Badly, at that, I reflect, and suddenly I'm feeling like crap again.

Daisy sighs. "I was afraid you were going to say that. Honestly, I don't know why he thinks he had to prove he's better than everyone to the point of being mean... I think he's going to run into trouble down the road if he doesn't respect the process of growth as a Trainer."

That doesn't make me feel much better. "He is better than me at it."

"For now," she says with that smile on her face again. "But you were just in too much of a rush. If you take your time, maybe he'll be ahead of you in the short term, but it's not a race."

"Easy to say sitting at the starting line," I mutter.

Instantly I feel bad for saying that. I wasn't talking about Daisy, but I see the obvious interpretation of it that way, and I'm about to apologize when she shakes her head slightly, still smiling.

"Just do things at your own pace," she says. "If he gets a Badge before you, or something like that, you'll make up for it by beating him next you battle."

It's good advice, though I'd go to hell before admitting that out loud. It really was my boneheaded attitude that got Bulbasaur hurt and me stuck back here. I was so determined not to spend a second more at home than absolutely necessary, and look where it's gotten me.

Aloud I say, "Damn ri—sorry; I mean, of course I'll beat him next time." But profanity joke aside, my words seem flat to me.

Daisy must see it in my face (I can tell by her own expression), but she doesn't call me out on it or repeat her pep talk. Instead she says, "You still look cold. Are you...?"

I have been rubbing my clammy limbs, so I give a half-nod. She gets up and stands behind my chair. "I can fix that. Do you mind if I give you a massage?"

"Huh?" That catches me off guard.

"I've been giving Pokémon massages for a long time," she says. "They really work wonders for improving your mood...that is, warming you up." Nice save."

"Um...okay."

"Good!" The next thing I know, she had a hold of my shoulders and she's kneading them with enough force that you'd think it would be painful...but it feels good.

A slight moan of relief escapes my lips, and I'm instantly mortified, but Daisy doesn't pay any mind. Her hands run over my shoulders and the back of my neck, and I can feel the tension evaporating from my body. Those hands are unbelievably soft but with such a firm grip, and I could melt into a puddle in my seat. I am not cold anymore.

Daisy's humming softly, moving lower and massaging the small of my back, then closer to my hips, and I jump a little as she catches me in the side. "Sorry," she says, and resumes humming.

I'm only measuring the seconds by how good Daisy's hands feel, but some time later she points at the couch one room over. "Why don't you lie down?"

I can't think of any compelling reason not to, so we switch locations and I stretch out on my stomach. I can't help a contended sigh as she again sets to work.

Lost again in my muscles' bliss, I don't notice her fingertips brushing the hem of my—her—shirt until she's pulling it past my navel. "Here, let me get rid of this... You'll feel much better..."

And I'm resisting her, but her puzzled expression doesn't stop her from insistently tugging the garment higher. "No," I try to articulate, "I don't—I'm not—"

She's stronger than I would have guessed, and my grip gives for a split second and t-shirt comes off. Immediately I cross my arms over my very bare chest, but somehow I feel like immediately isn't good enough.

Oh my God, she's still smiling. "I said you could take my underwear."

I'd like to explain exactly what I felt preventing me from wearing one of her bras, but I can't quite figure it out myself. Oh, fuck.

"Never mind." She isn't looking, but she isn't giving the shirt back either. "You know, this shirt isn't very warm...here; take this one." Before I can run for my life, she pulls her own top over her head, and I feel my brain short circuit.

That's it.

I'm going to have a heart attack, right here.

Seeing a drawer full of underwear is one thing, seeing that same underwear on Daisy Oak is another entirely.

"No?" I swear there's the barest hint of a smirk there now. "Well, I'm not finished, anyway."

And then she's massaging my shoulders again, only we're face to face and I have nothing covering me from the waist up.

"What is it?" she asks. "Does this seem strange?"

"No," I say, and I kiss her.

She's so warm and tastes so good and I don't want to pull away. When I do, nervous as though I somehow might have been getting mixed signals, she almost looks like she's pouting. She laughs. "Leave it to you to spoil my teasing by taking the initiative, Leaf." And then she kisses me back.

We lean over, her on top of me, her hands already moving over my chest. Somehow the words "I've never done this before" come out of my mouth. Wow, that sounds really stupid.

"Neither have I." She tracing kisses down my neck, and my fingers find their way around her back to unclasp her bra.

I start to say something else, but I don't get the sentence out, because Daisy pulls her—my—shorts off without warning. She mercifully hesitates the next moment, tentatively placing her palm on my lower thigh. She looks me in the eyes.

I nod wordlessly, and she pulls my panties down. My breaths get faster and hitch a little bit more as her hand slides up my leg, and I've lost my own to exploration of her breasts, and I don't hear the tea or the rain or anything but us anymore.

When her fingers slip inside me, I clench in around my midriff, and I moan as she starts to move her digits in and out. I'm suddenly desperate to enter her, too, so she can feel what I feel. My hand dives inside her jeans and finds her warm and so, so wet folds, and we press tightly together, labored breaths and a euphoric rhythm and out lips locked as if melding into one.

I come in a flare of heat that must turn my cheeks crimson, and it is satisfying, even sexually so, to hear her sharp gasp as she orgasms too. We collapse against one another, flushed and enthralled.

When she draws her hand out and licks it, slowly, I feel like I might faint.

We sit on the couch in silence for a minute, catching our breath, and I lie against her to feel that wondrous sensation skin on skin. I wonder how I could have gotten here from a silly girl crush, and then I am possessed by an urge to tell Daisy how I've always felt about her.

But I don't get the chance. Soon she's leaning down, locking out gazes while her lips travel slowly closer between my legs, and for the first time in my life I can think of a good reason not to leave Pallet Town.