A Night To Remember
Misty stepped into the garden, her new dress shimmering in the moonlight. The party had been thrown in honor of her, the gym leader of Cerulean City. She surveyed the surrounding area with pride. The fling had been planned by her closest friends: Ash, Brock, Tracy, Gary, May, Max, Drew, Dawn, and her sisters. Not to mention Mrs. Ketchum, who had let them hold the party at her house and decorated everything herself. In Misty's opinion, Ash's mom had done the job well. Candles, hung from a dark green canopy, scented the air and lit up the garden in their flickering, elusive light. Softly bright flowers graced every table, where the guests chatted amiably.
The guests, for that matter, were either relatives, friends, her friends' families, or gym leaders. Nearly everyone invited was there. In one corner, Winona was advising Falkner on raising Taillows, Wattson and Lt. Surge were relating their experiences with shocking Pokemon, and Claire was showing off her Dragon Pokemon to Lance. Misty was sure the last two had something going on between them.
"Hey, Misty!" Her favorite dark-haired friend rushed up to her, his hair messy as ever. He whistled when he saw her dress. "You look great."
She blushed. "Ash!"
"It's the truth!" He laughed, dark eyes shining. Over the years, he'd come a long way from the clueless, immature kid with only a rebellious Pikachu and a wild dream. Now he was more of a young man who'd found his place in the world. And what a place he'd found! He was the Elite Champion in all of the Pokemon Leagues and the owner of a collection of gym badges from all over the world. The fame he had gained was legendary. He really had grown into a hottie...
Misty suddenly realized that he'd been telling her something and had ended with, "Isn't that great?"
"Uh, yeah, great!" she said, not sure what she was agreeing to.
"Helloooo!" He laughed, his voice ringing pleasantly. "I was telling you about May and Drew," he explained.
Misty immediately brightened with curiosity. "What about them?" she asked eagerly.
"Well..." Ash said slowly, relishing his power over her, "I heard from my mom who said she'd been told by Norman who told her Max had hinted to him that... Drew's thinking of proposing to May!"
Misty gasped. "Really? Does May know?"
"Probably not." Then his eyes gleamed mischieviously. "I hope not."
"What are you planning?" Misty asked suspiciously.
"Nothing." The expression on his face told her otherwise, but she decided to keep quiet.
Suddenly Brock's voice rang out, saying, "Dinner is served!" There was a rush to the buffet table, and there were several exclamations of delight as the guests sampled the cooking. Misty laughed. "I guess they've never tasted Brock's cooking before!" Then she realized that Ash had already grabbed a plate and was practically shoveling food onto it. She stared, flabbergasted, then shrugged and dived into the throng herself. If her past experiences with Brock's cooking had taught her anything, the food would be gone in a few minutes. No point in being the hostess if she was going to starve.
--
"All right, everyone, ready for some dancing?" Mrs. Ketchum, decked out in a gauzy dress, flicked a switch. Immediately the lights dimmed, and some slow music started to play.
"Mom, do whatever you want; just don't embarass me," Ash whispered loudly. Delilah Ketchum gave a silent laugh, shook her head, and, smiling, pointed at someone across from them. What Ash saw stunned him.
Lance was saying something to Claire. Then he took her hand, and she blushed. Ash's jaw dropped. He had never seen Claire blush! The nearly undefeatable Dragon Pokemon trainer, Claire! WHAT WAS THE WORLD COMING TO?!
"Now that you understand what I mean, I guess you should take care of your own business with the hostess," Mrs. Ketchum said slyly, and walked toward some new arrivals to welcome them. Her son stared after her, then finally let her words sink in.
"Hostess...?"
He disappeared into the crowd. Mothers sometimes understood too much about their children, he thought.
--
Misty sat away from the dance floor, stirring her drink. The ice tinkled softly against the glass as she sighed.
"I thought so," she said aloud to herself, "I knew those two Dragon-lovers had something going on."
A hand touched her shoulder, startling her and making her drink jump into her lap with a splash. She gasped in shock at the cold liquid that poured down her dress, then cried out sharply and glared at Ash, who was, of course, the one who had caused it.
"Ash!" she shrieked at him. "I told you before not to scare me!"
"You never said anything like that to me!" he protested.
"Yes I did!"
"No you didn't!"
"Yes I did, I remember it clearly! I told you just last Saturday when you made me drop that vase!"
"You didn't even see me last Saturday!"
"Well, you're an idiot!"
Ash opened his mouth to say something, closed it, and muttered, "This is useless."
Ashamed, Misty nodded. She didn't remember the last time that she'd stopped an argument between them. Maybe he really has matured, she thought.
They sat in silence for a while, listening to the music and watching the dancers sweep across the floor. Finally Ash said, "Want to dance?"
Misty looked at him, startled. "What?"
"You know what I said."
Misty was speechless. Numbly, she nodded. Ash laughed and pulled her to her feet.
"Come on, don't be shy! It's just a dance." Their eyes met, brown against blue. "Just one dance."
"But... but... my dress is wet!" To her exasperation, she found that it was drying. She tried a different tack. "I don't know how to dance!" she protested, as he put his hand on her waist.
"Misty," Ash said patiently, helping her onto the floor, "I saw you dance with Gary before."
Misty's eyes widened. "How did you know about that? It was at the Indigo Plateau! And he only did it to save me the shame."
To her relief, he laughed. "Yeah, I know you two don't have any chemistry. Thankfully," he added. "I would never live that down: my greatest rival going out with you."
"Why?"
"Well..." He shrugged, but Misty never had a chance to ask further, because they were suddenly there.
He pulled her into the dance, their feet moving in time, weaving in and out of each other. Around them there was the sound of voices and glass and shoes on floor, lowered by the rosy, dim light. Misty watched Ash's right arm, not wanting to know if her face had reached the same shade of red as her hair. He really had changed. There had been a time, years ago, when she had been taller than him, but now his head rose an inch above hers. Somewhere along the road, he had become a young man, and the knowledge was startling. Suddenly Misty decided the silence was too stifling.
"Did you watch the first episode of the show that you were interviewed for?" she ventured.
"Yeah. It was pretty accurate, actually. I told them how we met; remember that day?"
"Of course! Especially since your Pikachu decimated my beautiful bike." She smiled wryly at the old sore subject. "It was brand-new."
"You know, the kid who acts as you is pretty good," he said quickly, changing the subject too abruptly. "I can't believe that you gave them your old outfit!"
"Neither can I," she said absently. Then she said, "Y'know why I still kept traveling with you and Brock? It wasn't really because you owed me a bike anymore."
Ash looked at her sharply. "Really?"
"Yeah. It's because I knew I'd miss you... guys," she added quickly.
He looked thoughtful.
The music ended, and Ash led her away from the crowd. She didn't notice where he had taken her until something leafy brushed her face.
"Mistletoe," he said, grinning, as he sat her down in a chair.
"Ash! It's not even Christmas yet!" she spluttered.
"The rules apply outside of Christmas."
"No, I'm not going to do it," she said firmly, and tried to pull away from him.
But in the end she yielded. Somewhere, sometime, it had become so natural, so inevitable that there was no doubt about it. When Misty finally pulled away, her azure eyes shone and a sigh escaped her lips. Ash studied her face as he held her waist, his dark gaze flickering over her features. Somehow she had gotten into his lap, the fabric of her dress twisted until it came up to her knee, her shoes lying on the floor, unoccupied.
"Ash," she whispered.
"Yeah?"
"Sorry I always argue with you."
"It's fine." He laid his forehead on hers and closed his eyes. "It was my fault."
"I continued it." Then she laughed softly and laid her mouth on his, warm and forgiving. "Let's not argue about arguing."
"Right."
And two souls were one in the moonlight, while others danced away the night.
--
I'm hoping that you readers out there will give me feedback, but no pressure. I've edited this so that it's not so choppy and more descriptive. Plus more romantic. Personally, I think this is the best work I wrote in six (or seventh?) grade. The rest is just a bunch of junk that I don't have published.