A/N: Sup, everybody? This is yet another unfinished fanfic that I've decided to add to my growing list. Hopefully this one won't take long because it's only supposed to be a friendly, little two-shot of my lovely Pokemon OTP. Neoshipping angst, yay! And total fluff in the next chapter, soo yeah. Enjoy, all you lovelies out there!
"Cassie, what is it? What's the matter?"
It wasn't every day that Cassidy was this emotional. In fact, it had been a long time since Butch had seen her shed tears. Yet, here she was, sitting on the tattered velour bedspread on the brink of a breakdown in a three and a half star hotel off the coast of Vermillion City.
They were stationed there, waiting for the next set of commands from Giovanni, Team Rocket's tyrannical leader. Cassidy had wanted five stars and her own Jacuzzi. Butch needed a smoking area that was at least within short walking distance. But Giovanni had other plans for the duo, the duo who had began to lose their luster in the heartless, cruel eyes of the one who used to commend them substantially for their peerless efforts.
Butch pondered the possibilities for her quasi-meltdown. Could it be because of the lack of pampering, spa treatments, and room service? Or was it something bigger? Butch cocked his head to the side, his teal-green bangs falling gently over his soulful mahogany eyes. He looked deep into his partner's violet irises for the answer, but could only manage to lose himself in their beauty.
Cassidy sat there for a few minutes, unspeaking, quivering slightly. Her lip shook, and she bit it to avoid any further representation of human emotion.
Finally, she uttered quiet words. "I have something to tell you, Butch."
Something to tell him? Butch moved closer, a small grin forming on his lips, his features uplifting at this new development. Cassidy never had anything to tell him unless it was good, so naturally, he assumed it must be great news. So great, perhaps, that she was in joyful tears. Blissful tears. Romantic tears. His heart started to beat at a pace that was uncomfortable at best, and made his head swim like a Goldeen in a drunken stupor. His excitement was perhaps a little deluded, the notion that Cassidy, the most beautiful, sought after agent in all of the team, could possibly be in love. With him. But even still, he hoped, and he wished and he held his breath waiting for her to continue.
"I slept with Giovanni." Her face fell to her arms as finally, sobs began to erupt from her, shaking sobs that didn't cease. They were the only noises in the room that filled the silent void.
Butch sat dumbfounded, like he had been punched in the gut. He couldn't move, he felt numb, and he blinked. Once. Then he looked at the woman he had loved ever since they'd met, longing for an explanation. But even more so, longing for this to all be a horrid nightmare.
"I'm so sorry, Butch. He told me that he'd make us great again, that we'd be even more successful than before, to relive the glory days, and I… I just couldn't refuse."
Couldn't refuse? The words stung him more than any other barrage of bad news ever had before. He had to deal with his father leaving, his mother dying… but never this. Cassidy was the one thing in his life motivating him to carry on, and for her to brutally betray him like that was a treatment worse than torture. Or even death. Even though he'd never told her exactly how much she meant to him, he was certainly planning it, and now he felt as though all his heartache had been in vain.
So many yellow roses had been thrown into the nearest river as a result of him chickening out. So many love letters burned by his lighter. And too many sleepless nights thinking of all the words he could say to her to let her know of all the feelings he held bottled up inside of him. He did love her. More than anyone could ever understand, and now, mentally, he was on the edge of a cliff about to jump. About to give up.
"Why, Cassidy?" Though he had many questions, it was all Butch could say as his eyes stared blankly at the floor.
"I-I don't know, okay? I just feel so… so dirty now. I never wanted to be that Team Rocket member who used sex to get to a higher position. That was always Domino's area of expertise." She sniffed. Finally the tears had stopped, but Butch was far from better. He continued to stare, saying nothing and to some extent, feeling nothing.
"But I made a mistake, and I'm sorry. Right now, I don't want you to be mad. I need somebody to help me get through this. Because at the rate that news travels, every one in the god-blessed organization will know about my selfish act. I'm not sure how I will be treated— how we will be treated."
Butch still couldn't mange any type of response. He cupped his pallid face in his hands and rubbed vigorously at his eyes. No amount of cigarettes in the world could stop the pain he was experiencing. And now she expected him to suddenly be all right and ready to shield her from the nasty looks and comments that everyone would surely pay her? He clenched his teeth and seethed in anger.
"So you just take me down with the sinking ship, eh Cassidy? You want me to just be fine? Like everything is peachy-keen! How selfish are you exactly? I-I thought you cared about me!" Butch's face turned red, and burned from the venom boiling in his blood. His words were poisonous, he knew it, but at that moment all he cared about was making her see how much she'd hurt him.
Cassidy blinked in astonishment. Butch had never yelled at her like this. Granted, he had yelled, especially after countless times of getting his name wrong, but never with such brutality. Even after their many heists were busted by Richie and his gang of insufferable twerps. Even after it was blatantly her fault for certain failures, but he had never been this upset.
Tears began to form in her eyes again, but to Butch's amazement, she did not falter like he wanted her to. Never once did she stutter and struggle to find any sort of wording that might possibly show him that she was hurt too. That she… loved him too. She merely stood from her sitting position and marched out of the room and out of the hotel into the darkness. She didn't even bother to say another word.
Butch sat hunched over on the bed. It had been a couple of hours since Cassidy had stormed out. Her clothes were scattered in disarray along the floor, his were piled neatly on his suitcase. That was just another difference between him and her.
Cassidy was untidy, disorganized, and impulsive. You'd never know what to expect because she was headstrong and bull headed, constantly rushing into situations without thinking. Butch was the strategist. Thinking and thinking, over-analyzing, and rethinking. That's all he ever did, hiding in his tame, misunderstood shell. Cassidy brought him out a bit more.
It had been that way ever since they'd met. Ten years ago, at the Rocket Training Academy. There were both students, aged 14, and ready to launch themselves into the dangerous world of high-class crime. She was in-your-face, adventurous, and very popular. He was the misfit, constantly being picked on by the other kids. They'd get his name wrong on purpose, and it never used to bother him. Until one day, he snapped. Cassidy was the only one to talk to him afterwards, because they had been assigned as partners. All the other kids were too afraid of him and avoided him at all costs.
"Cassie…. You were the only one who made me feel accepted. You never once made me feel like I wasn't wanted, like you were being forced into befriending me. You just… did." Butch whispered to nothing and stared at his hands. They were clean, though slightly cracked and calloused from years of wear and tear and heavy lifting of sorts— bags of stolen Pokeballs, to be exact.
Cassidy's hands were always so soft. Even though he'd never dare to admit it, he'd always wait until she fell asleep, then stroked her hands gently as to not stir her awake. It felt incredible, her skin. He longed for it now, and clenched his fists when he realized who had previously touched her.
"That bastard." Butch hissed. How dare he promise Cassidy success and glorification in return for her perfect body, her flawless features. And they never did get a phone call for a new mission, or any sort of promotion or even a raise. Cassidy's actions had gotten them nowhere, and now, she had to live with the indescribable guilt for the rest of her life.
At that moment, Butch began to cry. Tears flowed from his eyes and dripped sluggishly to the floor below, as he regretted treating her with such disrespect. He never should have yelled at her. And now that he was all alone and begging to feel her in his arms, he regretted not chasing after her the moment she left.
He ripped a piece of paper out of his journal and began furiously scribbling. Maybe he would never gain the courage to tell her himself, but he could always write it. He was very good at writing and he enjoyed it, so much so that it was the only career he wanted to pursue other than his current one. And Cassidy would read the words and be swept away. She'd forgive him just as fast as he'd forgiven her. Hopefully even faster. His hands began to cramp from the relentless outpour of written emotions, his paper was flooding with ink, his heart was aching with desire and angst.
"Oh, Cassidy." Butch said aloud, breaking the tension in the air surrounding him, letting the name roll slowly off his tongue. He finished the last period in his letter and signed his name. No need to reread it for typos, it was a good, raw letter. Everything he had always wanted to tell her was crammed in that one page, and Butch just hoped it would be enough.
He decided to wait for her return. Chasing, he figured, would only make him seem desperate, and he realized that a woman needs her space after an argument. As guilt-ridden as Butch was, he was also filled with a giddy excitement, that of a teenaged boy. His love of ten years was finally going to know the truth, she just needed to find her way back first.
Butch looked at his watch after some time had passed. It read 1:45am. It had felt like such a long time since the fight, yet it had only been five hours. Five hours of contemplation, tears and silence. Butch was still wide awake. Laying face to the ceiling, he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on getting a little bit of sleep. His mind was foggy and cluttered with too many thoughts, so he tried to focus on only her.
Cassidy. Her luscious, blond locks separated into two pigtails, flowing and swimming though the air, soft to the touch. She always smelled of vanilla, which happened to become Butch's favourite scent in the world. Her eyes were two gigantic saucers of the purest amethyst, sparkling in the sunlight. She didn't even need makeup to be beautiful. Then his eyes ventured down her body, carving every curve out with his hungry gaze. He felt her hand reaching out for him and touching him, sending shivers down his spine and his heart down a frantically fast rollercoaster ride. Her touch, it felt so close, so real, so unbelievable. Then her voice, saying his name, a delicate tone that rang like music in his eardrums. Somehow, it was like she was really there.
Then he woke up. His eyes shot open and disappointed him with the realization that the beautiful dream lived too true to its name. Just a dream. But the hotel was different. And he swore he could smell the faint scent of vanilla.