I'm coming up with the weirdest junk for titles. Maybe I should just write AAML4EVR and have that be the title for everything. I'm so disappointed in me.

Forgetting Candy Necklaces

It was nice to be a teenager - a strange, rarely used sentiment, and one never heard or thought but very agreeable to Misty. She was old enough to do many adult things, and if those adult things went wrong she could run back to her friends and family and remind them that she was only a child and there was an awful lot she didn't know or understand. She didn't mind being called a kid so much, not as long as it got her out of trouble. In her mind, that was the best part about being in her teens, standing on the line between childhood and adulthood, she could clearly see them both switch sides to whatever option would help her best.

As a consequence, it quite annoyed how that Ash Ketchum seemed unable to practice the same line jumping she did and stayed securely on the side of childhood. He never really attempted to do anything adult-like, except for saving the world, of course, but that didn't really count. He never tried to sneak into adult things or go on a date or into an adult's restaurant or onto a website for eighteen and older. He ate lollipops and watched cartoons and referred to grown-ups as some older, mystical being he would someday transform into, like a bagon to a salamance, instead of something he could easily be if he wanted too.

It had never bothered her all that much before, but she had taken up traveling with them, just for a while. Six months, she had asked for, just to keep herself from going insane. She didn't want to do something stupid, reckless, like running away again, but the longer she stayed at the gym, the more letters and calls she got from her friends, the more gym felt like a cage. She had to make sure she was making the right choice, that there wasn't something better out there. She had forgotten how much she loved to travel and she was starting to fear she couldn't give it up again, an awful lot like how Ash refused to give up on his childhood.

Because he wouldn't, and it was so annoying that he refused to. He certainly wasn't a child in body anymore, every lean (and hairless) bit of him teen, no matter how long he continued to be shorter than her (though, to be fair, she was taller than most girls and boys). But, still, the second he opened his mouth or made a move it looked as if he had been possessed by a small boy, grinning like crazy, running, giggling, and showing off. It could be charming at times, but it was mostly annoying and moronic in her eyes. She was a firm believer in growing up, regardless of whether or not they wanted to, and she did not want Ash to be some real life Peter Pan.

"Cotton candy?" Ash suggested, tilting the treat her way.

She blinked at the pink, fluffy goodness for a while, frowning a bit. After all, little kids shared cotton candy. Adults only shared if they were a couple and she was certainly not a couple with him, but it was too great a temptation to pass up. She snatched it up and took a bite that was probably more than the boy meant to offer. It was good though, very light and melting in her mouth so quick it felt as if it was just the air that tasted so sweet. For a moment, eyes blissfully closed, she was gone to her own sugarcoated heavenly cloud.

"Funnel cake?" Brock asked them, handing the two of them a plate of sugar and chocolate drowned funnel cake.

With chocolate on her mind, she didn't have any time to think about couples or adulthood or the silly boy chowing down with her, not until seconds had passed, the cake was gone and she realized she had once again participated in a couple-like act, and mentally scolded herself for it. If all the amusement park boys thought she was Ash, how would she know if she looked good tonight? None of the boys would come up to her and from what she had seen of unmarried adults (mainly her sisters and Brock) flirting seemed to be a very big part of it. She would never get to flirt if she was always around her two friends and it wasn't like she could practice flirting with them.

"But I could win a stuffed Pikachu!" Ash said suddenly, his eyes lighting up as he saw a Catch It themed carnival booth. The goal of the game was something like the safari zone, but with pokémon trained to be much harder to catch (and pokémon you weren't allowed to keep). He was quite good at the game, not to anyone's surprise, but only played if there was something worth going after. "Whaddya say, buddy? Want a clone?"

Silly as it was, even Misty couldn't help but giggle at the stupid joke, and push back the still biting memory of a stone encased Ash. Please no, that memory whispered, as it always did when certain topics were mentioned, before fading back and being replaced with the cheery carnival scene. She thought that memory should have stayed forgotten, but there was no Mewtwo around to fix it, and, bitter as it was, she didn't think she had ever been wrapped in a sweeter sensation than when he came back to life.

"Do I get to weaken it, or is it rocks and bait?" Ash asked, hefting the strangely weighted, multicolored pokeball.

"Rocks and bait," the little girl blurted, and her father put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Her first day, Misty bet, and she was a little over excited about the whole thing. It would explain the rocks and bait as well, as the newly caught carnie pokémon probably couldn't take too many hits. It didn't matter to Ash any, setting his sights on a Pichu darting to and fro, he threw a piece of bait and a pokeball in quick succession, catching the thing on his first try. The girl behind the counter turned to her father, mouth open, as if she wasn't expecting any of the pokémon to be caught, and the father sighed, reaching up for the grand prize Pikachu.

"How many leagues?" he inquired, handing over the larger than life plushie.

"Not enough!" Ash giggled and held up his prize to be thoroughly inspected in the dusty light. "At one a year, I guess it's been five or six."

"See, Sara? That's why you need to be careful. Boys like this could catch pokémon in his sleep. You need to judge them on their demeanor, not how skilled they look. Good trainers rarely look like trainers. They have an air about them."

"Like an overgrown toddler?" Misty suggested with a smirk.

But, much to her surprise, the man insisted, "Exactly! Like children! That's the mark of a good trainer. They feel childish. That makes the pokémon feel safe and trusting. They're not going to run away if they feel safe, understand?"

"So, if they're trustworthy you don't want 'em at your booth?" she asked carefully, nodding to herself. She beamed up at the trio. "Then I definitely don't want you guys playing anymore!"

They all laughed at that and said their goodbyes and set off a bit through the carnival. There wasn't much else to do. They had ridden on all the rides, eaten until they felt they would pop and played games until their wallets were starving. There was, of course, the nice end of the night Ferris Wheel and fireworks extravaganza, but that wasn't for a while yet. There wasn't much to do but walk off the food until they could eat again and talk so the music wouldn't drive them insane.

"They said I was the kind of trainer they had to watching out for," Ash declared proudly. "I even prove it with this thing."

Misty snorted, turning her nose up, and everyone could feel the storm of an argument coming up just around the corner. "Please. It was obviously their first day. None of their pokémon were past the first stage of evolution. They're not even sure they're supposed to avoid the ball. They hear you press the button and they perk up like you've got a treat. I wouldn't be surprised if that Pichu did more work getting itself caught than your so-called skills."

"Hey, it was the girl's first day. The dad was obviously trying to teach her daughter the trade and he said that I was good and I'm what they need to watch out for because I'm a great trainer and you're just jealous. You wanted a giant stuffed pokémon too but you knew you wouldn't be able to win one so you didn't even try. You were embarrassed because you knew you couldn't compare with me."

"Yeah, that's it, because I have so much use for a just stuffed pokémon while I'm traveling around the region."

He stood taller. "Then it's just because you're jealous of me."

"Jealous?" she cried, eyes widening as if she'd been slapped.

"Yup, jealous. There's no need to be embarrassed about it, lots of people are."

"If there's anything I am, it's not jealous and definitely not because you're such a great trainer! I'm just as good as you, if not better." That was a boldfaced lie, and everyone knew it. There were certain aspects, she had to admit, that he consistently beat her in. Battling was one of them, though she'd always be better at leader style of the sport. It wasn't like he ever had any practice in it, but she had to console herself somehow.

"She's clearly jealous Brock."

"Clearly," Brock agreed with a snort.

"I am not. You guys suck. And I don't know what they were on about. I don't know how acting like an immature kid is a good way to obtain pokémon or be a good trainer. You just have to be a good person, not some immature halfwit. A pokémon will trust you as long as you're good to them."

"I'm not a halfwit," he snapped, and after a quick am-not-are-too fight, he continued, "and I'm not immature. I'm just fun, not that you know anything about it, grumpy."

"I know loads about fun, and I know the difference between having fun and acting childish and you were acting childish. You always do. You're the same ten year old baby you always were. It hasn't changed a bit."

"I have too." He paused. "You haven't noticed any of it? You haven't seen any change at all? You don't think I'm…less cocky or smarter or anything?"

"Nope," she chirped.

"You're just being mean now." He looked around, as there was nothing else to continue in that conversation, he needed something else to do. His short attention span constantly needed something to occupy him, and walking and talking wasn't doing the trick anymore. "C'mon, there has to be some ride to ride before the fireworks start up! There's always something to do. I mean, that's what the carnival is for, doing stuff. I bet we wouldn't be as bored if we had more money."

"Nah, we would just get tugged around while Misty went shopping. There's too many vendors here," Brock said, gesturing to the cart clogged streets that drew the redhead's eyes.

"But they have a lot of nice stuff."

"Ugh, she would have dragged us into shopping."

"Nothing wrong with more shopping!" she insisted. "It can expand your horizons and bring people together and bring people together and-"

"Empty our wallets. But the food already did that…that and the games," Ash sadly brought out his wallet, opening the Velcro so slowly that Misty had to bite back a laugh, and he peered into it so mournfully she couldn't help but giggle along with Brock. "Too bad we're out though. Unless we can find stuff with change all we have left is the Ferris Wheel. I don't think there's any cheap snacks around here."

"You're still hungry?" she gawked.

"Well, that hasn't changed! I can't help it. It's not like the food's filling. It just tasted good."

She sighed. "I guess it would be nice if you had something to do with your mouth other than talking."

"That sounds suggestive," he sniggered.

For a moment, the thought of Ash doing something suggestive filled her mind, just his mouth slammed onto hers, tasting like cotton candy and funnel cake and the hundreds of other snacks he swallowed. He arms would wrap around her, he'd put his hand on the small of her back and she'd just ever so slightly curve away from it and further into him. In the next moment she was blinking a little too rapidly and wondering where in the world that had come from. They only thing to do was to blame it on the food and move on, letting herself be hypnotized by the spinning, flashing lights.

"Didn't see that before!" Ash cried, tugging her arm. "Look! They said it's a penny candy store. We've got pennies we can spend! I bet it's good candy too, the old fashioned candy my mom always talks about. I could use some gum or a sucker that'll give me something to do."

She didn't get much of a chance to say no, because the next instant she was dragged into the candy store. It wasn't a big store, just a little hold in the wall with candy stacked at kid height. Nickels and pennies were scribbled onto pieces of paper and taped to the bins, but nothing above a dime was marked out. The three of them instantly forgot themselves. They raced around, counting their change and adding more and trading out so they had exactly as much candy as they could buy. This wasn't a store where you got change back. The clerk chuckled at the thrilled teens, shaking his head at their kiddish enthusiasm and passing each bundle into plain white paper bags. With a flourishing stroke, each got their names printed across the top so there would be no confusion, and were sent out of the store with wide smiles.

Misty had found saltwater taffy that seemed to come in every color and flavor imaginable. Brock had found the bubble gum, which he claimed he hadn't eaten in ages, and was able to blow bubbles like a pro. It was Ash's choices that weren't surprising, they were very varied and mostly made up of things he claimed his mother had eaten as a child. However, there was one choice that seemed downright strange for him to have. He pulled out a plastic wrapped candy necklace, ripped open the package, and tugged it over his head. It clung to his neck, like a choker instead of dangling like it should have on a child, on someone who should have been wearing it.

"What's that?" she asked, wondering whether it'd be okay to reach out for it. She didn't know why she would even want to, after all. She had her own candy and she doubted that his would taste any better than hers. Still, his somehow seemed more tempting, though it hadn't seemed tempting at all for the brief moment it had been in his hands. Was she allowed to want the candy around his neck? Probably not, she finally decided, not unless they were dating.

He smiled, the action not quite reaching his eyes. "Candy necklace. Don't you remember? They were one of your favorites when we were ten. You always wanted to get them? I hated that you kept pulling me away from cool stuff so you could get these stupid things."

"But those are for little girls, not boys. Not boys your age either. Why are you eating them?"

He laughed. "You got me hooked on the stupid things. I have to buy one every time I see one, don't know why."

"Maybe the same reason you always use the lure she gave you whenever you go fishing," Brock suggested.

"That's because it works, not because of anything else!"

Misty was sure she was blushing despite the dim light and how his fists had come up to block his face, even though she wasn't quite sure why. It was ridiculous how the two of them could make them feel like she was ten again. She wasn't that prepubescent girl starting to get rounder in all the right places and completely confused as to why her heart did a funny skip whenever Ash smiled. She didn't like him. She had a crush on him once, but he hadn't grown up with her. He was stuck at ten and she couldn't love a ten year old. She needed a smart, mature guy to dirt and date, not Ash, not even if her heart did that funny skip just then that it hadn't done in years.

"You guys still blush! I can't believe it! Well, Misty, maybe, because she's always red because she doesn't have any melanin, but Ash?" He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Mew, Ash, I think I'll have to tell your mom about this!"

"No!" he gasped, face turning even darker. "You know how my mom is! You know how she'll get if you tell her something like this! It'll be hours on the phone while she tells me how great it is that I'm growing up and Misty would make a great wife and she always knew that we'd be together forever with white picket fences! I can't even mention you without her getting a smirk on her face like she knows everything!"

"She probably does," Misty said with a shrug. "It's alright, Ash. I understand that you're madly in love with me. I won't make fun of you too much, just when you're being really annoying or it'd be really funny."

"You blushed too!" he accused. "What would your sisters say about that?"

That stopped her giggling awfully quick, though Brock's laughs only grew louder. She protested, "They'd probably say the same thing as your mother, but it's only because old habits die hard. I mean, I'm probably not blushing near as bad as I used to, just like you."

"You're both as bad as you used to be! You're blushing to your ears! I can't believe you two still like each other. I would have imagined you'd have grown out of it by now."

"We never liked each other," Ash snapped, "Not like that."

"I hardly ever liked you as a person!" Which was much too strong a denial for her tastes and she quite hated feeling out of control. She hated having to remind herself she was sixteen, that Ash was a childhood crush, and that a childhood crush stays in childhood. He couldn't come back. He wouldn't be interested in dates or romance or even kissing. He had no adult potential, she was sure. There was no use in dwelling on him, no matter how tingly the ridiculous thought was.

"So…candy necklaces," Ash said awkwardly, circling back to the topic that started all the embarrassment and fingering the wretched thing around his neck. "You really don't remember? They were your favorite when we first started travelling together, unless you count chocolate."

She worked her memory to its best, but she was much too distracted with the images her imagination wouldn't stop conjuring. "Chocolate's in its own category, it doesn't count as candy. I guess I do, but I don't remember getting that worked up over them."

"Why'd you like them so much, anyway? Because you did get really worked up over them. I swear, you scared the people selling them. You would run into the store and grab half of what they had and slam your wallet on the counter while they counted them up – like a robber that pays. Was it because you liked the way they looked or the way they tasted?" He smirked. "There's no point in asking that question about the chocolate."

"Oh gees, Ash, I don't remember," she said, feeling frustrated that she couldn't. "You know me, it was probably because I liked the way they look. They probably could've tasted like pokémon food and I would have got them."

"You probably thought it made you look mature." Ash laughed. "You were obsessed with that, calling me a baby too. Bet it was because of your older sisters. You wanted to be just like them."

Still do, her uncooperative mind thought before she threw that out too. "I wasn't that bad."

"From what Tracey told me, yeah you were. Last I checked a few guys were your candy necklace around the Orange Islands." She didn't mind blushing at that one, even if it did earn another chuckle from Brock. "So, tell us, Misty, was it the need to be as perfect as your sisters that pushed you in your quest to become an adult, or were you merely getting your first cycle?"

"Oh, shut up!" she snapped, but she was laughing too. She had too much fun with them, too much immature, childish fun. If it was anyone else, she would have killed them for the menstruation joke. "You know, the fireworks are probably going to start soon. We should be getting back to the Ferris Wheel."

"We can race back!" Ash threw a competitive fist in the air. "Let's see who's faster now! We'll run all the way back to the wheel, it's not too far. On my count of three."

Brock argued, "Why your count? You were always the fastest, so nor you're even going to get to count? No way. If anyone should od it, it should be me. I always came in last anyway."

"No, I'm counting. But I'll give you and Misty a second's head start." This was as likely as Team Rocket promising to wait a week before they came back to be blasted off again, since it was so obvious they needed a break. Although they may have started out with good intentions, there was no doubt they were going to follow through.

"That's fair." Brock snorted. "You're still going to win, but that'll make it a little more embarrassing."

"Come on, guys," Misty moaned, standing a little straighter. "We're having a great time, why ruin it like this?"

"One…" Ash began, his smile growing.

"No! I'm not running! Don't even bother because I'll lose sight of you and have to walk alone and I'm not running!" She stomped her foot, which she thought made her point more effective but did quite the obvious.

"Yes you are. I haven't seen you in years, but if there's one thing I know won't change it's how competitive you are, especially when it comes to Ash."

"Two…"

"Stop counting! I won't run and you can't make me and if you run I swear to every god I've heard of I'll kill both of you! Don't you dare do this to me!"

"If you want to kill us, you have to catch us first!" The taller man laughed, clapping her on the back. "Like you'll have any luck doing that. Ten to one says the gym's made you soft."

"And three!" Ash cried, shooting off with Brock.

And Misty, who swore her feet were moving without her consent, shot off as well. But, Mew, was it ever nice. Her legs stretched and burned and eased into the stride. She was out of practice, severely, her lungs were crying with every breath, her heart pounded to pain and she couldn't help smiling. She was sure she had tried to keep in shape, tried to keep running her first month or so at the gym, but she had to let it go as time went on. How could she have ever let the feeling go? The adrenaline, the power, and the exhilarating, smashing thud as the three of them crashed into the wood gate of the Ferris Wheel - Ash first, Brock second, and Misty third – was such a great rush. Second to swimming, of course, but still fantastic.

"You guys are still slow!" Ash panted, leaning back against the fence.

"We can't all be gifted runners like you," Misty muttered, copying his pose. "I thought I did pretty well."

"Yeah, but your position sucked."

"How do you know?"

"I looked back. Your limbs were flying everywhere, pretty stupid looking, actually. It was pathetic."

"You did not! If you had tried you would have tripped over your own feet! Did too, and you looked hilarious. It was pretty obvious how out of shape you are."

"You're such a liar!"

"People passing us would look over and think, wow, the boys are great but that girl. She just proves that girls really can't do anything the way boys can."

"I hate you."

"Your terrible running actually promoted sexism."

"Why are you being such a jerk?"

"Candy," he said with a final pant, and yanked up the necklace so he could slide the stuff into his mouth and suck on it. "These really don't taste bad."

"Really?" she asked, not sounding too interested.

"Want to try?"

"Ew! Ash, your mouth has been on it!"

"I got you guys extras. They were only a dime each and I don't actually like them enough to eat all of these. 'Sides, there's plenty of parts I haven't put in my mouth. Want some, Brock?"

The older boy nodded snapped a piece off the extended neklace with his teeth, making a face that clearly said it was simply okay. Ash seemed a little more ecstatic about it, putting it back into his mouth and sucking on it like it was his new favorite treat. The Ferris Wheel spun above them, lights reeling and spinning and Misty could feel herself once again slipping into a bit of a fantasy, not a big one, but just her and Ash alone on the wheel. Granted, it was impossible in every sense of the word, but just achievable enough that one couldn't help hoping (though she really didn't want to hope) that it could really happen, that Ash would have enough romantic sense to realize how perfect the setting could be.

"I know that look," Brock said. "What are you dreaming about now? Another chocolate funnel cake?"

"Nah. I'm just thinking about how Ash doesn't have a romantic bone in his body and how he'll always be alone and he'll be that crazy old man down the street who throws pebbles at kids who got too close to his lawn and rant about how he could have been a Pokémon Master if only he hadn't wasted his time saving the world and goofing off when he should have spent every second of his time training."

"You have one of those?" Ash asked sarcastically. "Gee, I thought my neighborhood was the only one."

"We actually do have a guy like that. His name's Sal. When he's got his meds he's usually fine, but off them he'll drop pennies in boiling water and use gloves to throw them at us." The redhead frowned a bit at the memory of hot pennies bouncing off her neck, but forced a smile on when she saw the old conductor running the wheel, balding head shining as bright as his blue eyes.

"You kids going up for the works, right?" the carnival man asked, and continued when they nodded, "It's going to be gorgeous tonight, nice and clear. Either of you boys going steady with this pretty thing? If I was sixty years younger, I would take a chance."

Although Misty was sure he was the kind of man who called most girls a pretty thing and neither of the two boys were going steady with her, she felt the blush jump into her cheeks and ducked her head while the boys insisted otherwise. She had been hoping for flirting, but it was downright embarrassing, especially when it came from a man his age. She liked to think that it would have been different if her friends hadn't been there and he had been a charming young man in his teens, but a little voice reminded her that she would probably blush regardless.

"These two could be a couple if they set their mind to it," Brock said with a laugh. "I've been after them for years!"

"We're only friends," Ash said and blushed at the winking carnival man. "We've never been like that. Everyone thinks we'd make a great couple, but we're not together, and we wouldn't make a great one. If either of us ever thought it would be worth a shot we would have gone out just to shut them all up!"

He chortled, "I think you'd make a great couple."

"Just because we look nice together doesn't mean we'd make a good catch," Misty said, trying to recover from her embarrassment and fantasies, which were only getting worse with the conversation and the later night.

"I know that, but I've got a good feel for these things. You've got chemistry. I'm tellin' ya, you two bump and spark off each other. Bet you two operate as jerkily as this old machine, but that only makes it more exciting, right? I'm tellin' ya, it's a lot more exciting when you mix two chemicals and get an explosion than if you mix water with more water." Which was true, though perhaps not the best metaphor.

"Sir, we're a lot of things, but we aren't a couple. We argue a lot and we're great friends and we work pretty well together, but all the chemistry you're feeling is just between friends," Ash protested, now starting to smile as he changed the topic. "But you're right about the wheel. It's a lot more fun with all the little starts and stops. I thought Brock was going to throw up after we went on for the third time in a row!"

"You shouldn't go that many times."

"But it's funnier if someone gets sick on a Ferris Wheel instead of spinning ride. Brock didn't throw up though. He almost threw up. That's nowhere near as good as if he had actually thrown up." The boy sighed sadly, tapping his foot against a paper cup someone had dropped earlier. "We've eaten nothing but junk food all day anyway. If he could have thrown up at anytime, that would have been our best bet."

"Boys are disgusting," Misty stated.

"You didn't want to throw up? The ride's been pretty bad today. Saw a lot of kids blow chunks today."

"Oh, Mew, do you really have to-"

Ash puffed up his chest proudly, cutting off the girl: "I've done a lot of stuff way wilder than this. I go on a lot of adventures all the time. Flying on pokémon is why more exciting than anything you can build, and I've been through drops way higher than those towers, and without anything to hold onto either! Y'know, if you're pretty sure you're not going to die this stuff isn't near as fun."

"Oh, yeah, because almost dying and scaring all your friends half to death again and again is so much fun." Misty crossed her arms and glared at him from the corner of her eyes. "How could we expect a rollercoaster to top death?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Dotin' on you like a wife, see?" Pete said, pointing at them wildly.

"To be fair," Brock sighed, "He actually has almost died a million times or so, in pretty bad ways. It's hard not to snap at him for saying things like that."

"Still, I know these things." He paused, looking up at the sky. "You'll want to get on now if you want to see those fireworks."

Misty looking around her, face scrunching up. She had begun to wonder if they had come to early, if her watch was off or they had heard the wrong time. After all, the area around her was empty. No kissing couples, no excited daddy-daughter pairs were standing behind them, in fact, the entire area seemed to be cleared out except for the workers, almost leading her to the conclusion that it had ended.

"Are you sure?" she asked him. "No one's on line."

"People have gone down to the field to watch them. Never think t'ask if old Pete would stop the ride at the top so they could watch from the top. Much better view, I say."

There wasn't much time to agree or disagree with him, as a firework blasted off in the distance and they all charged up. Only Brock remembered to thank Pete as they passed him, scurrying into the tiny car that was just big enough to uncomfortably seat three - Ash first, Misty second and Brock third. A moment later, Ash and Misty were alone, the door was slammed and they were brought a little ways up. Behind them, Brock laughed and jumped into the next car, and the next moment they were zoomed all the way up to the top, starting and stopping as the machine struggled through its job.

They twisted around in their seats to yell at him, ignoring the perfect view of the explosives. Misty's voice was louder and carried a better worded message of: "I'm going to kill you if you don't get over here!" than Ash's, who mostly swore and ranted and didn't say anything that sounded particularly intelligent. In fact, as he often did when he was angry, he sort of sounded like a broken record from an old superhero cartoon.

"I can't jump over there!" He cried indignantly. "Have you seen how high we are?"

The height had indeed slipped her mind, and when she looked down her mind conjured up another quick fantasy of cuddling to Ash for support, so he could protect her from the long fall down, though both knew it was an obvious lie and she only wanted a hug. She focused back in with a furious, "Well, what'd you do that for? We were supposed to watch them together! It was supposed to be one of those beautiful friendship moment we'd look back on forever and cherish and tell our grandchildren!"

"It can be, only it'll be a romantic moment!" Brock suggested.

"Brock!" they shouted back together.

With a last, "Have fun!" there obviously wasn't anything to do about it. Daredevil as Ash was, he didn't exactly find the moment worthy of yanking out a flying type. It didn't help much that his faithful mouse companion had decided to leave him alone, leave them alone, and go with Brock instead. Both were feeling petrified of being unaccompanied in what they both knew was a romantic setting. With the high backed chairs and their comfortable spot up in the air, no one could see them, and no one could hear them over the fireworks.

There was nothing to do but watch the sky and suck so noisily on the candy necklace it made your female companion want to murder you.

"Could you stop it with that damn thing?" Misty snapped.

"With what?" he asked around the damn thing.

"Your stupid necklace!" she said disdainfully. "I can hear you snapping and munching over the fire-"

He cut her off yet again, this time sounding much more serious about a much more serious topic. He was sitting up, almost leaning forward, with his shoulders back in some sort of strangely good posture, moving quickly from his previously laid back stance. "Do you want to go? It's pretty obvious you don't want to be here."

"Neither do you, but Brock ditched so we don't have a choice unless you want to fly down."

"Not here here, I mean traveling with us. Are we just an excuse to get away from your sisters? I understand if we are. I'm sure they can get annoying, but you could have told us if we were. If we were just a way out, I mean."

He continued, but Misty had gone deaf, her ears pounding with the horrifying thought of not traveling. It was ridiculous, after all. She loved it more than anything else in the world, and she certainly would rather travel with them than with anyone else. She must have been doing something, though, to make him feel that way. Or…or that was simply because he was an idiot. This option made more sense to her and also kept her completely guilt free, both things she loved, so decided to accuse instead of ask.

"You moron, of course not!" But instead of ending it there and allowing both of them to go back to the fireworks, she stupidly continued, "What would give you that idea?"

"You usually yell at me, but it's gotten worse since you came back. It's like you hate me, but you don't want to say it. I've been trying to tell myself that you don't, that you wouldn't here come back if you hated me, but maybe you just hated your sisters more. Maybe you didn't like being here with me, but it was better than them, or maybe you had just come back for Brock."

"Don't be crazy! I came back for both of you, not just you, not just Brock. We've been friends for ages. If I couldn't stand my sisters or you, I'd strike out on my own. I love my sisters, even if they can be a pain, but I love being with you two a hundred times more." She turned to him and shook her head. "I can't believe you'd think that I'd use you guys like that! You're my best friends. I'd never do that!

"Then why have you been so mean to me? I never catch a break from you. I can't say anything, can't do anything, I half expect you to yell at me any day now for breathing in the wrong way!"

"I knew there was something I forgot to yell at you for," she joked.

"I'm serious." He was stony faced and gripping the rail so tight his knuckles had gone white, his back was only getting straighter and his muscles only getting tighter. "Why are you acting like you hate me if you don't?"

She shrugged. "I don't hate you. It's just the way I am."

"No. It's not. You're not that way with Brock are you? What's the real reason? What's wrong with me?"

She breathed deep and relaxed into the seat, glaring out into the fireworks. "If you really want to know, it's because I felt like during our time apart I grew up and you didn't. It's like I've become an adult and you're stuck forever as this ten year old kid and you'll always be that way. You're like Peter Pan and I'm Wendy. I left Neverland and grew up and you…you're still Peter, and you're all surprised when I come back all grown up."

"So you're an adult now," he said bitterly. "That's the funniest thing you've said for a while."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, what's grown up about you?" he growled. "How you're still trying to control everyone's lives? Or you're throwing a fit because things aren't going your way? Or how you get angry over the smallest things? That must be it. That's what I was taught being an adult was, not taking responsibility or helping other or accepting each other's differences, nothing stupid like that. Every after school special I always saw ended in Ralph getting his way by calling Susie names and beating her into doing what he wants her to."

His eyes flicked over to her. "Awfully quiet now, Misty. You're usually full of comments to prove me wrong."

"I didn't have the same role models you did," she protested icily.

"You're trying to pin it on your sisters. They weren't terrible role models. They weren't that bad. They weren't great, I understand, but they weren't all that bad. And hey, you could have had plenty of mine – my mom, Professor Oak, even Brock. Those were the people I looked up to. I didn't look at Gary when I decided who I was supposed to be. Why didn't you look at them instead of…instead of whoever you looked at."

She bit her lip. "I don't know."

"What would be grown up to you?" He released the rail and turned in the seat, trying to look her in the eyes she wouldn't meet. "What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know," she sighed. "Romance, maybe?"

"Do you think that might be the problem?" Ash said, the anger fading from his voice. "Do you…do you think that might be the only problem?"

"What do you mean?" she asked again.

"I mean my anger at Brock for leaving us alone wasn't….it wasn't just anger. I felt other things about being left alone with you and they weren't all about Brock. I'm guessing that you're not just angry at being alone here with me either." He swallowed, and in a much smaller voice, "I hope."

Hesitating, feeling stupid for asking it a third time, she asked again, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that things aren't so…sensible as you want them to be. A water type can learn electric moves, and there are moves like Curse that work different depending on the type of pokémon that use it." He sighed. "I mean the line between kid and an adult isn't thick. It isn't even there. Just because I like to play kid's games and eat candy necklaces doesn't mean I'm dumb enough to not realize that sitting at the top of a Ferris wheel with a girl with never ending fireworks is a really romantic thing that happens in a million chick flicks."

"So…" she said, fists clenching nervously in her lap. "We're in a romantic setting and you're not…entirely angry about it?"

"Yeah." And now his eyes wouldn't meet hers either.

"Even though it's a romantic situation with me?"

"Yeah."

"Oh," she said, and then: "I'm…I've been telling myself all night that I…I can't like you. I keep thinking, uh, romantic things about you even though I'm not supposed to, because you're a kid and immature and…"

She trailed off there, but he picked up the conversation: "What kind of romantic things?"

She sunk lower in her seat, closing her eyes tight and blurted the images that seemed to be painted across the inside of her eyelids, "Kissing."

"Really? Yeah, uh…me too," he said awkwardly, blushing just as badly. "I don't…you don't want to try it, do you?"

"No," she squeaked. "I, um, I think I'd probably die if we tried to. My heart's, uh, pounding pretty bad. I think it might explode if we tried anything. It's, uh, something nice to think about in the future though. We could try handholding at some point, and, um, work our way up to the whole kissing thing."

"Hear you," he agreed. "Candy necklace?"

Feeling nervous, she leaned forward and used the very tips of her fingers to pull it from his neck, bringing the candy to her lips. He stiffened at her touch, watching her from the corner of his eye, and flinched as she crunched one of the red circles. She moved away, letting the necklace snap back to his neck, and then, much to her embarrassment, he slowly held up his white bag.

"I, uh, was going to give you another one. I told you I brought extras, remember?"

Shrinking lower still in her seat, quite sure that her heart had stopped beating and killed itself in embarrassment, she spluttered a very nervous, very shaky, "Forgot."

Was that dialogue heavy crap? Be honest. I think it was. I don't know, it had this weird, awkward feel to it, but it kinda had to, because that was how the whole night was. I thought it was cute and kinda funny in some parts but…eh, I'll see if anyone likes it. It kept me occupied at the equator and it's always fun to continue to wear out my keys.

Oh, and I'm also trying to make sure I'm not an adverb addict. Am I? Do I use a lot of adverbs? Because I want to work on that if I do, because adverbs are mostly evil. –nods-