A Fallen God

by JamesLuver

When Ash Ketchum is promoted to head of the Elite Four after its previous leader is killed, his first aim is to bring down Team Rocket. With the help of a band of faithful followers and Jessie, James, and Meowth, the ex-members of the organisation, he makes his preparations for war. But, as the allies' worlds are torn apart, Ash is not guaranteed a victory. ON HIATUS.

4. Happy Families

A/N: My characterisations of Jessie and James could be way off here...

---

4. Happy Families

Popeny Town, Flaviaosa.

21st August.

Sunlight streamed in through the small gap in the curtains, which had been badly drawn the preceding night. The figure in the bed groaned despairingly as it hit her face, rousing her from her dreams. The stirring disturbed the man lying by her side; he stretched out a pale arm to cut short the shrill trilling of the clock which had begun to ring, indicating the time. It was a Sunday, the only day of the week in which the duo could theoretically have a lie-in.

"'S'time?" Jessie said groggily, rolling over to look fully into the face of her partner.

"Half six," James mumbled, snuggling back into the warmth of the duvet. "Meant to change it, but I forgot."

"Trust you," Jessie said, rolling her eyes, lacking the energy to do anything else but struggle onto her side so that she was facing her lover. He shifted slightly so he could press his head into the crook of her shoulder, slipping his arms around her back to entangle his fingers in her knotted magenta hair, which spilled messily over the bed. Jessie closed her eyes contentedly at the feel of his hands moving in such a soothing way. In retaliation, she began to press her lips against his cheek in a way that she knew he couldn't resist, nipping at his ear for good measure. Pressed up against him, she could feel his reactions to her body. She gave a feral grin. Attempting to lull herself back to sleep was the last thing on her mind now.

"Y'know," she whispered seductively, tipping his head back so she could look pointedly into his eyes, "we've still got a couple of hours before Meowth comes in to wake us up. Why don't we…make the most of it?"

Now he was fully awake too, James could hardly ignore the pulsing sensation in his groin. Jessie could be very persuasive when she wanted to be; her hands drifted down his chest, moving in slow, circular motions towards the source of his sudden arousal.

Pausing only for a moment to check that the house was still silent, James grabbed his lover's hands before they could move any lower, lacing their fingers together as he rolled her onto her back. Her sleepy grin widened; it was almost cat-like.

"Now," she purred, "let's see what you're made of…"

---

Feeling distinctly hot and sweaty, James collapsed on top of Jessie. Her heartbeat was erratic, her breaths coming out in heavy pants. They were silent for a moment, collecting their senses, which were still scattered wildly above them.

"Well, I think you passed the test," Jessie gasped, running gentle fingers through his soft lavender locks.

"Mmph," he agreed, his face pressed somewhere in the region of her breasts. She shifted her position slightly to get more comfortable, and James surfaced long enough to flop himself down on the pillow next to her. Jessie gave that same wide smile and pressed her back against his chest, wrapping his arms around her waist and placing his hands on her stomach, resting her hands on top of his.

"So, did I pass with flying colours?" James smirked when he had enough breath to do so.

Jessie rolled her eyes at his immaturity. "Well, I'd hardly go that far…"

James looked hurt. "That's unfair! I'd say the way you were moaning clearly means I'm—ow!"

"You can shut up," she growled as he pouted and rubbed his arm where she had pinched him.

"Okay, okay, I'm shutting up!" he grumbled.

"Good," she said triumphantly, and leaned her head back to kiss him, stopping the pout which had reached his mouth. He responded immediately, forgetting that he was supposed to be annoyed with her. The kiss deepened, and Jessie found herself twisting her body, wrapping her arms around his neck and expertly guiding his gentle fingertips to her breasts…

"Dat damned, pat'etic excuse fer a rat!"

The door swung open with a bang to reveal what seemed to be a smoking cat. Meowth stormed into the room, coughing, his fur smouldering lightly. Behind him skipped a Pichu, looking thoroughly pleased with itself. Meowth glared over his shoulder, then turned back to his friends, only now realising that they were frozen in a very compromising position.

"Oh, jeez," he muttered, understanding just what they had been about to do as he had burst in. "Not again!"

Quickly, they parted, looking sheepish. The Pichu took it upon itself to wobble unsteadily into the room and let rip a tiny shockwave, frying the cat instantly and, consequently, itself.

"Dat does it!" Meowth screamed, his temper fraying. He unsheathed his claws dangerously, and tensed his muscles, ready to jump onto the irritating rodent.

"Sparks!"

The little voice was strident and panicky; swiftly, Jessie and James yanked the bed covers up as far as they could. There was a flurry of little feet and their petrified three year old scuttled into the room, her large sapphire eyes dilated with worry. The Pichu's ears flicked as he recognised the voice, then, emitting his name in a singsong voice, he pranced across the room and leapt into her open arms. Meowth attempted to pounce on him, but the girl stepped neatly out of the way and glowered at the feline in such a good imitation of how her mother did that he backed off almost at once. It was a comical sight, and James could not help but hide a badly disguised snigger.

"Dat's right, Jimmy," Meowth said sourly. "Laugh at me. At least yer not da one dat da rodent has a grudge against."

"Oh, come on, Meowth," giggled Jessie. Don't be like that. You know Sparks was only playing with you."

"Playin' is one word fer it," the cat muttered darkly. His fur still burned, thanks to the little rat.

The Pichu grinned innocently, and wriggled in the girl's arms. She promptly set him on the floor. He bounded out of the room, no doubt to go and cause more havoc elsewhere, Meowth supposed. He resolved to go and make sure he wasn't messing up his quarters, which the rodent had a very infuriating habit of doing.

"Back in a bit," he grumbled, and hurried after Sparks.

Once alone, Jessie turned to her daughter.

"What's the matter, Miya?"

Miya-Rose frowned and clambered, with some difficulty, onto the bed. A stray strand of her purple hair fell into her eyes as she did so, and she brushed it away with a whine. She'd been unfortunate enough to inherit her father's tresses, something which Jessie sometimes despaired over.

"Chickita birfday?"

Jessie and James exchanged amused looks. Ever since Miya had received Sparks as a present, she'd been harbouring after another Pokémon, this time a Chickorita. Even the valid excuse that her parents were reluctant to spend their money on luxuries such as more Pokémon had not deterred her from her quest of gaining what she wanted, a trait James often joked was definitely her mother's.

"Well, honey," Jessie said cautiously as the youngster sat on her knee, "we'll have to see what we can do, okay?"

Miya nodded, seemingly content with the answer, obviously oblivious to the fact that her next birthday was still an entire year away, having celebrated her previous one just a couple of weeks before.

"Good girl," she kissed her cheek and smiled warmly at James, still secretly in awe that the two of them had managed to create such a perfect child together. Motherhood had definitely mellowed the usually fiery-tempered ex-Rocket, and it was certainly a change for the better.

James felt for her hand under the quilt and winked at Miya, giving her a more concrete answer. "We'll get you a Chickorita if that's what you want, I promise."

Miya grinned brightly. "Kenkoo, Daddy."

"Anything for little Miya," he said, opening his arms and letting her cuddle up against his chest. Parenthood had been good for him too, Jessie thought. He was more assertive than he had been in the past, a trait that Jessie appreciated on him. Although she felt that James shouldn't be getting their daughter's hopes up too much just in case they couldn't deliver—even if Miya had an entire year to forget about this particular conversation—Jessie couldn't stop her heart from swelling. She loved seeing her partner and daughter together. Miya was so much like him; they shared the same hair, the same shaped face and features…but her eyes were definitely Jessie's. A little bit of both of them merged into one beautiful child. Miya smiled once more and clumsily wriggled off of the bed.

"See Sparks," she said seriously. "Uncie bad!"

"Yes, Uncle Meowth is very bad," James laughed. "Go referee the Poké-Battle."

"Now, where were we?" Jessie murmured as Miya left the room. She shifted closer to him, throwing her legs over him so that she was sitting on his lap. The intent in her expression could not have been more obvious. Mornings had always been a very good time for her, and she knew that James secretly enjoyed the fact that she was much more willing to allow him to be on top in the first rays of the sun.

Not this time, though.

James was staring at her wide-eyed, the hands gripping her waist contradicting his next words. "Jessie…we should be getting up…Miya will hear us…"

She cut him off there with a kiss. "Miya will be busy for a while with Meowth and Sparks. She's not going to be coming back here anytime soon. And I'm sure Meowth will keep her away from here if he needs to…"

"You are one persistent woman, Jess," he murmured in her ear as she succeeded in pushing him back into the warmth of the bed. Her response was to nip at his bottom lip mischievously, her hands resting on his shoulders.

"I'm sure Meowth will tell Miya we're a little bit…preoccupied…" she said flirtatiously…

---

James emerged from the bedroom a full hour later, a dazed grin still plastered across his face. He'd decked himself out in slacks and a shirt, which he'd only absent-mindedly half-buttoned. His hair was damp from the shower. Jessie herself was still getting ready for the lazy day ahead of them.

Miya was in front of the TV, eyes glued to the Pokémon match that was taking place. Growly, James' beloved Growlithe, was curled up beside her, his head on her knees, his eyes watching the battle with fascination. At Miya's side was Mime Jr., the baby Pokémon imitating her every move.

"Miya-Rose, what would you like for breakfast?"

She tore her gaze away from the screen for a second. "Toast, Daddy?"

"Of course you can, sweetie," he said, ruffling her hair. "It won't be long."

She nodded, hardly registering what her father had said, and James left, heading for the kitchen.

He found Meowth in there, grimly sorting through a box filled with random objects that he had collected over the years.

"Hey, Meowth," James greeted him good-naturedly. Meowth grunted and continued to hunt through his pile of valuables. Shrugging, James just shook his head and went about preparing breakfast for his family.

He was frying bacon when he felt a pair of slender arms wrap around his waist and a weight descend onto his shoulder. He jumped a little, jerked from his thoughts, and turned his head to find Jessie behind him, a coy smile on her face.

"Jess!" he whined. "You scared me there!"

She grinned. "You should be prepared for trouble. Next time I might…" she bent in to his ear and gave it an affectionate nip, "make it double."

"And what sort of double trouble would that be?" he said, lifting her left hand and kissing her fingertips, a silly grin on his face.

"Well, that would depend entirely on how good you are," she smirked as she laid her head on his shoulder, the fingertips of her right hand snaking their way under his shirt and tracing out the faint scars he had obtained from their years in Team Rocket. James closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation, tightening his grip on his partner's soft hand.

There was a strangled cry from the living room, startling the pair of lovers. Jessie pushed away from James and turned towards the door.

"What in the name of Mew was that?" she said.

"I don't know, Jess," James replied, "but it sounded like Meowth."

"What's the furball gone and done now?" she sighed heavily, but before either of them could comment further, the cat, who had left the kitchen only minutes previously, screamed again.

"Jess, Jim, get yer butts in here now!"

Now pretty mystified, the duo obeyed the cat's command, and together they entered the front room. Miya was still sitting in front of the TV with Mime Jr. and Growly. However, the TV programme was no longer the Poké-Battle one.

It was the PokéWorld TV news station.

"…And now we're crossing over live to Zodorio City's Royal Hospital, where our correspondent, Anna Thompson, currently is. What has been said on the matter, Anna?"

"What's this abou—" Jessie started to say, but Meowth silenced her with a harsh hiss.

"Thank you Zoë," Anna said, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "This, indeed, is a tragic story. According to our sources, Mark Anderson, leader of the Elite Four here in Flaviaosa, was rushed into Zodorio City's hospital at approximately ten yesterday morning. It was reported that he had suffered severe gunshot wounds. The staff attempted everything in their power to save him, but Mr. Anderson died at about three yesterday afternoon. Police are treating the case as murder."

"Fuck," breathed Jessie, ignoring the fact that Miya was in the room and glancing over at James, who had sunken in a kind of horrified stupor next to her on the sofa, his emerald eyes fixated on the TV screen. "Isn't he the guy who messed up our plans the day the brat beat the Elite Four?"

"Da very same," Meowth said heavily. "But who da hell moidered him?"

"What details do you have, Anna?" questioned Zoë, tilting her head slightly.

"Well, the police aren't disclosing much at the moment," the woman confessed. "All we really know is that Mr. Anderson was shot in the park yesterday. Two of his Pokémon died at the scene of the crime."

"And there's no sign of the killer?"

"None yet. The police are doing everything in their power to scour the scene of the crime to come up with any evidence that could be vital to this case, but so far there has been nothing. What they are asking for is for everyone to keep their eyes peeled and report anything that might have been seen to them immediately."

"And I'm sure this is the question that is on the minds of many of the citizens of Flaviaosa this morning," continued Zoë. "Just who is succeeding him? The favourite for this has always been Andrea Davies."

Anna shook her head. "Believe it or not, rumour has it that none other than Ash Ketchum, the youngest Elite Four member to date, has been thrown into leadership." The image switched to one of the young man shoving his way through the crowds of reporters, cap pulled low over his eyes, Pikachu hurrying after him. "Unfortunately, Mr. Ketchum refused to comment on the goings on, and this morning did not make a statement. Neither Miss Davies nor Miss Holmes have deigned to speak out either, and at the moment their current location is unknown. We'll keep you updated on this shocking story as it progresses. Back to you in the studio, Zoë."

"Thanks for that, Anna," Zoë concluded. "I suppose all that we can hope for at the moment is that Mr. Ketchum will be able to deal with the pressure of taking over the reins and leading the whole region. And now, in other news…"

"Dere ya have it, den," Meowth said quietly, switching off the television, much to Miya's indignity. "He's dead."

"Sweet Arceus," James, biting his lower lip anxiously.

"D-Do ya reckon da boss did dis?" Meowth questioned shakily, hopping onto the sofa between his friends. Four years of being free of Team Rocket had not taught the feline that Giovanni was no longer da boss, but his human companions had always let it slide.

"Of course that bastard did it," Jessie snapped, running a hand absently through her hair. "Who else would have the brains to pull this off perfectly?"

"I dunno," the cat admitted grudgingly. "Maybe one of da oders? Like Magma? Aqua? Galactic?"

"Magma and Aqua disbanded years ago," James reminded him unhappily. "That goes for Galactic, too. We were the only organisation that really roamed all over and managed to keep going."

"Well, so long as dey don't t'ink dat we did it," Meowth huffed.

James glanced from his partner to his daughter sitting on the floor, who was surveying her parents with large, inquisitive sapphire eyes. "I'm sure that's not the case, Meowth. We gave up that part of our life years ago. Most people don't even know where we are, anyhow—"

Jessie interrupted by sniffing the air with a dubious expression on her face. "Can you smell something?"

Meowth raised his furry face and took a deep drag of air. "Smells like boinin' ta Me-owth."

"Damn," James leapt to his feet. "I forgot the breakfast!"

As he hurried out of the room, dreading the state of the food, Jessie by his side, he distinctly heard Miya say, "Uncie…what does fuck mean?"

Jessie grimaced, obviously hearing it, too. "It's a bad word, Miya-Rose, so don't ever let me hear you saying it again!" she called over her shoulder, denying Meowth the chance to give what might have been a terrible explanation at their expense. James couldn't help smirking.

This was their life now, and not even the death of Mark Anderson was going to spoil their day off together.

Besides, there was always the minute chance that it wasn't connected to their pasts in any way.

---

He cursed as he attempted to prise the top off a bottle of water with his one good hand. It was no use. He swore again as he caught his crushed fingers against the trunk of the old oak he was perched beside. He doubted he'd be able to work them well for a few more weeks yet. His leader was ruthless when it came to dealing out punishments.

Where his partner was he did not know. He wished she'd hurry back, though. He could feel his eyelids drooping—having had no sleep since he'd arrived here early yesterday afternoon, he wasn't surprised at this. He just wanted to sleep. His targets had shown no sign of doing anything interesting—well, with the exception of the preceding evening which had been sufficient enough to keep him awake—and they would, undoubtedly, be doing nothing for the rest of the day. It was Sunday, after all.

The day of rest.

Half an hour's worth of sleep wouldn't hurt him, surely? Just half an hour, until his partner returned…

He slumped against the rough bark of the tree, reassuring himself that he'd only shut his eyes for a moment.

He was fast asleep seconds later.

---

James leaned down and nuzzled his face affectionately against Jessie's neck as he collected the dirty dishes from the table. That was something else Jessie had noticed over these past few years; her partner was always making a point of letting her know his adoration of her, as though the day that they'd left Team Rocket and almost gone their separate ways still haunted his mind heavily. At one time, this might have annoyed the her, but not anymore. It felt nice to be loved. She watched Miya skip into the living room with her Pichu, leaving her parents alone.

"I'm just going to head out to the village to see if I can pick up a paper," James said, dropping the crockery onto the working space beside the sink. "There might be something else in there about that Elite Four leader that wasn't mentioned on the news." Doubtful, but it never hurt to check.

"That's fine," Jessie said as she stood, making her way over to the sink and stacking the dirty plates more neatly. "I'll get Meowth to help me out here, you get off."

"I'll be back soon," James said, and after giving her a quick kiss on the lips and whistling for Growly, he made his way outside into the sunshine.

Upon hearing the sound of her master's voice, the Chimecho which had been sailing pleasantly in the wind, playing with the rest of the Pokémon, began to float over, singing her name in a melodious fashion.

"Good morning, Chime," he grinned, reaching up to take the Pokémon in his arms when she reached him. Chimecho nuzzled against him affectionately, then wriggled free to wrap herself around her master's head like a strange bandana. Clearly she wanted to come along for the journey.

With a bit of persuasion, James had managed to convince Jessie and Meowth to return to his summer house in Kanto to check on his Chimecho's health. Both Nanny and Pop-Pop had been overjoyed to see their Li'l James safe and well, and had welcomed all three back with open arms. James had explained that their days in Team Rocket were well and truly over, and both had expressed their relief that he had managed to escape more or less intact. He had also shyly told them that he and Jessie had fallen in love with each other.

At least you've finally come to your senses, Pop-Pop had said simply, and Nanny had nodded in agreement before looking Jessie up and down.

You make him happy, she'd stated, and had said no more.

They'd stopped over for a few days, and Chimecho had left with them. Jessie hadn't been exactly thrilled to have the Pokémon tagging along with them again, but she'd persevered when she'd realised how happy James was because of the psychic type's presence.

The slight morning breeze was refreshing after days of the unrelenting heat wave that this part of the region had been suffering from. James hummed cheerfully as he trekked through the field behind his house. They lived a mile or so away from the nearest village, and this isolation suited them perfectly. There was no one around to disturb them. The villagers liked them well enough, but were not interested enough to pry. Growly loped beside him, his tongue lolling out, evidently enjoying the exercise as James climbed over the style and continued on down the road.

The first year after the two of them had left their life of crime had been difficult to say the least. In the beginning, they had found it hard to get jobs, and the opening few months had found them struggling to earn sufficient wages for them to survive on. The only house they could afford was an inadequate two roomed flat to rent. They practically lived off discounted rice from the local shop, with James bringing bags of cheap food home from the PokéMart for their Pokémon. Even Meowth did his part; begging dejectedly on street corners until some soul took pity on the pathetic creature and dropped a small amount of change in front of him.

And then, totally out of the blue, the bombshell exploded, leaving the trio with more than the worry of paying the rent.

It had started out as a typical day in the household. It was late November, the start of the bitter season in Flaviaosa. Both Jessie and James were suffering from colds—one taking it better than the other—and even Meowth, with fur as thick and warm as his was, had a sniffle. Jessie was the worst affected and spent most mornings locked in the bathroom emptying the contents of her stomach, but not one of the three read anything into it. After all, she spent most of her working time outside in the harsh cold, walking Pokémon for lazy rich folk for a meagre salary.

However, a week later when Jessie's symptoms showed no indication of easing, a worried James, despite his girlfriend's protests, phoned the local doctor's surgery and arranged an appointment for her, hoping there was something that could be prescribed to her to help her recover.

The following Tuesday found the two of them sitting in the small waiting room, Jessie's head resting against her lover's shoulder, feeling uncharacteristically tired. It seemed like aeons until the little consultant, Doctor Leaiw, called her forth. James gave her hand a squeeze as she stood shakily and followed Leaiw back to his quiet room. James picked up a magazine and began to leaf through it without taking anything in.

Twenty minutes later, Leaiw re-entered the waiting area and beckoned James to him. His heart rate picked up as he nervously threw the periodical down and wandered after the specialist. What if Jessie had something incurable? What if it was cancer? What if she only had a week left to live? Was there a sign he should've picked up earlier?

By the time they reached Leaiw's room, James had worked himself into a tearful state. Positive that his beautiful girlfriend was about to drop dead at any moment, he launched himself at her, almost knocking her off her chair as he sobbed, "It's not fair! I don't want you to die of pneumonia!"

Jessie exchanged a dumbfounded glance with Leaiw before she smacked her lover around the head, a thing she had not done in a very long time. He whimpered and shot back, his eyes filled with hurt.

"I'm not dying, you numbskull!" she growled. "I'm much too young and beautiful for that!"

James blinked, sniffling, as the news slowly sank in. "Y-You're not dying?"

"I just said I wasn't, didn't I?"

Doctor Leaiw opened his mouth and spoke in his soft Kanto lilt before James could reply. "There is some news, however. Would you prefer to tell him, or shall I?"

Mystified rather than scared now, James looked from one to the other, perturbed. What was going on?

"Be my guest," Jessie muttered, running her hand consciously over her stomach. Leaiw nodded understandingly and turned to James.

"Sir," he began soothingly, speaking unhurriedly so he had the lavender haired man's full attention. "I have good news for you. Your girlfriend here is expecting a baby."

James' jaw dropped dramatically as he swung around, awaiting confirmation from Jessie. She nodded, an expression of despair fleetingly crossing her face.

"But…how?" James asked wildly, staring back at Leaiw.

"I don't think we really need to explain exactly how this baby came about," Jessie snapped, pulling at her hair in agitation. This was all they needed; they could barely afford to feed themselves…

James' face flamed. "I just meant that we were always…careful," he muttered.

Leaiw clucked gravely. "Protection isn't always one hundred per cent reliable, no matter its form. It's very possible to fall pregnant whilst using protection. Now, Miss, there are a few things inside this leaflet which may help abate the morning sickness, and I'll refer you to the hospital for your first scan in a couple of months. Are there any questions you want to ask?"

James shook his head mutely, still looking as though the doctor had told him he was due to grow another head, and since Jessie did not seem inclined to speak either, the little expert ushered the pair out of his room.

Before he closed the door on them, he said, "I know having a child can be a lot of stress for young parents. But believe me…you won't regret ever having it."

It was true. Although they barely made enough money for themselves and had never really considered becoming parents even in the future, neither Jessie nor James could bring themselves to consider an abortion—after all, it was not the child's fault, it was their own carelessness. They would keep the baby and find a way to tackle their financial status.

Meowth took the news that he was to be an uncle very well; nevertheless, he still found himself sporting a black eye for taking a joke about Jessie's inevitable gained weight too far.

James soon grew to love the small wonder he had helped conceive, and at every opportunity could be found running his hands gently down Jessie's quickly expanding stomach. As a couple they had become much closer, with Jessie being less domineering and James more assertive. However, they rarely had time to indulge in any sort of intimacy. James worked every hour he could do at the local PokéMart, dragging himself home late in the evening with no energy to spare except for downing a quick meal and crawling wearily into bed.

Even this did not solve the ever increasing money problems.

"Hey, guys," Meowth voiced one morning over the breakfast table halfway through the seventh month of Jessie's pregnancy, "I don't suppose yer've been able to come up wid any solutions to our money concerns, have ya?"

"You should know we haven't," James muttered, resting his head against the tiny wooden table in the cramped kitchen as he picked listlessly at his breakfast. He had only just returned home after a gruelling night shift and was in no mood to be reminded of their rather dire situation.

Jessie shook her head from by the sink. Now that she was as far along as she was, she had been forced to give up her walking job. She could barely make it from the bedroom to their tiny sitting room without feeling out of breath; walking overly energetic Pokémon was asking for far too much in her current state. Although neither human had voiced it, this further dip in the money coming into the household was worrying them beyond anything.

The cat's eyes twinkled mischievously. "An' dat's where ol' Meowth comes in, see? I've bin t'inkin' 'bout dis a lot recently…"

"Oh, joy," Jessie muttered. "Let's hear it, then."

"Well, Jimmy comes from da upper class society, right? His family's completely old fashioned. Dey wanted him ta marry some cute redhead ta get his inheritance…but see…" He turned to the young man in question. "Ya've already got anuder knocked up redhead. Yer parents are gonna be grandparents. Surely if dey have any honour, dey'll do da right t'ing an' let ya break off da engagement ta dat harpy an' allow ya ta marry da goil of yer dreams who so happens ta be carryin' yer baby? An' dey can't allow ya to woik fer a measly six bucks an hour. Dey'll hafta give ya somet'in'. An' a liddle somet'in' ta dem is a whole lot more ta us!"

Jessie eyes shone. "When you put it like that…if we do it your way, Meowth, we may never have to work another day!"

James frowned slightly as he mulled it over. "I suppose so…" He sounded less than impressed.

"What's wrong?" Meowth asked. "Don't ya want to give ya kid da best start possible?"

"Of course I do," he snapped. "I just don't know if I like the idea of asking my parents for help…you've met them, they're insane! I don't want to end up married to Jessibelle!"

Meowth waved a paw casually. "Ah, dat ain't gonna happen. Jessibelle or not, they're gonna have a little grandkid to continue da family line on once dey're gone. Dat's what dey wanted, right? So it's what dey're gettin'!"

"Nothing's going to happen to you, James," Jessie added confidently, warming to the idea with the temptation of money. "Meowth and I will be there to make sure of that."

The prospect of being defended by a heavily pregnant woman and a cat that couldn't fight to save his own life was not one that James relished, but the sway of their money problems being answered ultimately forced him to nod his head in agreement.

"Great choice, people!" cheered the feline. "No more livin' off a hundred dollars a week, an' certainly no more beggin' on street corners! Now, when's yer weddin' ceremony gonna be? Just say da word, Jimmy, an' Jess'll be jumpin' inta a white dress straight away." He hopped strategically out of Jessie's way and headed for the cramped sitting room. "Actually, scratch da white t'ing. She can't wear dat colour no more."

"Slow down!" James yelped. "Who says we want to get married yet? I don't want that sort of commitment!"

At his words Jessie was confronted with the painful memories of the incident that had occurred at James' summerhouse home some years prior, where James had yelled that he'd rather die than marry her. That had seemed like such a long time ago when they'd first hooked up, and James hadn't even freaked out when he'd found out that he was going to be a dad, yet the mere thought of marrying her had him sprinting for the hills. Just what in hell was wrong with him?

Scowling darkly, Jessie left the room. She was in no mood to argue with her partner over the subject, but she resolved to get to the bottom of his rather hurtful aversion of marrying her. And perhaps she'd save a slap for him later.

Two days later, the three ex-Rocket members found themselves outside the gates of the biggest mansion in the whole of Flaviaosa. James had confided that his family owned summer homes just about everywhere, and this was where they would be staying for the month. So it was with more than a little nervousness that James buzzed through the gate. A heavily accented voice was his reward over the static intercom: "Hello?"

Hopkins, that infernal butler.

James gulped, his voice high and squeaky. His childhood homes had a negative effect on him, bringing back all the cold, distant memories of a bruised past. "Are the owners of the house in the near vicinity?"

"The lady of the house is nearby. Is she suitable?"

"She's perfect."

"One moment, please."

The three of them waited in silence as Hopkins retreated.

The next voice they heard was the unmistakable one of James' mother's heavy southern accent, perfectly cultivated. "Hello?"

"Mother? It's me. James."

There was an extravagant intake of breath and a moment's pause. "James?"

Did she really need to repeat what he'd just told her? "Yes, Mother. Please may I enter?"

Jessie raised an eyebrow as she heard the suppressed Southern lilt working its way into his voice, but did not comment as his mother choked, "Of course, mah deah. Ah'll send Hopkins down for yuh."

"There's no need, Mother," James replied hastily. "We can walk."

"Nonsense. A proper gen'leman should wait for the car."

There was a click as the gate unlocked for their admittance. In single file, they trudged in. Meowth watched the gates seal themselves after them. He just hoped they wouldn't need a quick escape. Apparently James was not going to wait for the car, for he had already started making his way up the long driveway, and Jessie hurried—or waddled, since she was already fit to burst with their child—to catch up with her long term partner, slipping her hand into his sweaty one. She squeezed his fingers reassuringly, her smile oozing confidence.

"Don't worry, James," she said convincingly. "Those snobby gits will have to cough up. They can't let their grandchild grow up in near poverty. And I can't wait to see the look on old Jessibelle's face!"

James nodded, less sure, but let himself relax as he felt the tenderness in her touch. Whatever his devious parents tried, he would not allow them to force him to marry Jessibelle. He loved Jessie with all his heart. There was no way he'd let his parents touch either her or their child. Speaking of touching…James blushed as he imagined the disapproval etched onto his parents' faces as he explained the situation to them. Sex before marriage was frowned upon in the upper class society—what the hell would they say when he told them his girlfriend was pregnant? Disappointed would be the understatement of the century. They'd probably berate him for an hour on the improper way of going about life. James could almost hear them now, telling him that while it was acceptable to court a girl, it was not correct to take her to bed before the wedding night. In their books, it was probably only just all right to hold hands with a member of the opposite sex at this stage. With no desire at all to marry the woman chosen for him, they would still expect him to be saving himself.

They were in for a shock.

At a bend in the road, a limousine purred around the corner. James stopped short as it came to a rest beside them. The door was flung open and Hopkins the butler flew out. Tears of joy pooled in the corner of his eyes.

"Master James, you've returned home once again!" he said happily through his megaphone, before his eyes landed on Jessie. At once, his expression morphed into one of pure horror as his gaze slid from Jessie and James' joined hands to Jessie's swollen stomach. It was quite clear that the butler had worked out just what had transpired during the years since he had last seen his young master. He said nothing else as he opened the back of the limo for James, though the glowering look he fixated the pair with was enough to turn the young man crimson with embarrassment.

Meowth broke the silence as the door was slammed after them.

"Well," he said, settling himself comfortably in the leather seats and casting a knowing eye on the pair of them, "dis is gonna be interestin'."

The drive up to the front of the summerhouse mansion was made in silence. James drummed his fingers nervously against his pants, staring straight ahead. He was trying to work out the best way of appealing to his parents—the thought of which terrified him to near paralysis—but each lame attempt was dismissed. Besides, no matter how eloquently he put their delicate situation, the fact remained stark: he and Jessie had been fooling around and now there were consequences.

Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all.

Eventually, the car pulled up outside the summerhouse. James gulped as the door was pulled open for the trio to exit. Hopkins' face was stony as his eyes burned into the young couple and their Meowth.

Standing outside the door, waiting to greet their son, were James' parents. The look of satisfaction on their faces shone brightly as James stood humble, terrified, in front of them, but soon their own expressions morphed into ones of revulsion as Jessie rounded the car. Her delicate state was more than clear to them.

"James, what is the meaning of this?" spluttered his father, his eyes growing to the size of saucers as he took in the female half of the former Team Rocket. "Why have you brought this girl along with you? Explain yourself!"

James could feel his knees banging against each other as he glanced up sheepishly. "She's my partner."

His mother's eyes narrowed. "Partner? What do yuh mean by that?"

He could feel sweat cumulating at his temple. "Surely you remember her. She is—was—my Team Rocket partner. We did missions together."

His parents regarded him through narrowed eyes. Behind him, he could feel Jessie's gaze scorching a hole through his skull. His sweating began anew. It was too difficult, asking him to tell his parents that he was an expectant father.

Jessie took it upon herself to take over. "Oh, we've been doing more than just missions together."

At the sound of her voice, both of her lover's parents rounded on her.

James' mother wrinkled her nose delicately. "She sounds so common. James, why would yuh associate yuhself with such a person? And what is the meaning of bringing this…harlot heah when she looks ready tuh burst?"

"Who are you calling a harlot?" Jessie growled. "I'll have you know that I have more class and style than anyone from this side of town!"

Meowth sweatdropped. "Hoo boy, dis is gettin' good."

"And for your information," Jessie continued, while James slouched back in abject terror, seemingly tongue-tied, pointing to her stomach, "this is the end result of your son screwing me senseless."

For a moment, Meowth thought that the two of them would keel over. James' mother was actually clutching her heart. James himself had gone a puce colour, unable to meet either of his parents' eyes. In contrast, Jessie was standing proudly, arms folded across her chest, determination in her features.

"Son," James' father said calmly. Too calmly. "I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that this common harlot is lying."

James refused to lift his head. Sweat trickled from his temple. His whole body was shaking.

"Son!" barked his father. "Answer me!"

"S-She's telling the truth," he said softly. "Me and Jessie…well, we love each other. The baby is mine as well as hers."

His mother gave a horrified wail and promptly collapsed. His father managed to catch hold of her, turning to glare venomously at the trio of ex-Rockets.

"You, sir," he roared, levelling an accusing finger at James, "are a disgrace to the family name! All your mother and I have ever wanted for you is for you to settle down and marry in order to continue the family line! You would never have needed to worry about the issue of money, and neither would future generations! Yet you insisted on running away and joining that ridiculous team, and now…now you have crossed the line even further! Did it never once dawn upon you that while you were…fornicating with this whore, you have a fiancé here waiting for you to return? How dare you besmirch her honour in such a way?"

James hung his head, the words stinging him far greater than he'd ever admit to. All he'd ever wanted was for his parents to accept him for who he was, but it seemed that even the chance of bonding over a grandchild was impossible now. Jessie, on the other hand, was furious.

"I'm not a whore!" she hissed. "Just because we've had sex doesn't mean that I seduced him into bed! I love him and he loves me and now we're having a baby, whether you like it or not! I would've thought that you'd be pleased that your son has settled down. And what does it matter who he chooses to spend his life with? You're still getting an heir out of it, aren't you?"

"I can't understand it!" James' mother moaned weakly. "Why would our dahlin' James do somethin' like this? Does he really hate us so much that he'd take up with some lowlife street trash just tuh get back at us?"

Jessie's eyes flashed, an all too familiar vein popping out on her forehead. Pregnant or not, Meowth half-thought that she'd spring forward and attack the two pompous idiots for daring to insult her. She didn't, however; instead, she rounded on James and snarled, "Some use you are, James! You're supposed to be defending my honour!"

James gulped visibly, paling even further, if it was possible. However, he did peek around Jessie's shoulders and mumble tentatively, "She's not street trash, Mother. Jessie's been there for me for a long time now, and it's true that we love each other. We never planned for the…the baby to happen, but it has."

"Forget it, anyway," Jessie growled, taking hold of James' arm and turning away. "It's clear that they want nothing to do with us or the baby, and there's no use trying to reason with them." She glanced over her shoulder, casting Meowth an evil look. "This is the last time I ever listen to one of your bright ideas!"

"Well at least I come up wid ideas!" Meowth retorted, as Jessie began to walk away, dragging James along with her. "T'anks for da hospitality," the scratch cat said, spinning towards James' angered parents. "We'll probably not be seein' ya around…dough I really t'ink dat it's bad for youse geezers dat yer never gonna meet yer grandchild. Lemme tell ya, dat kid is gonna be beautiful an' if it turns out anyt'in' like dose two nuts, youse will be lucky to have it."

"Meowth, let's go!" Jessie called from a distance. "We'll just have to do it our way now!"

"Comin'!" Meowth hollered after her. He turned towards James' parents one last time. "We've been scrimpin' an' savin' fer mont's now so dat da kid'll have somet'in' decent to start its life off wid. But Jimmy can only do so much, an' wid Jess bein' unable to woik now, dey're strugglin' more dan ever. Dey didn't want ya to forgive 'em or nutin', dey just wanted a little bit of money to cushion 'em for a few mont's while dey get back on deir feet. I t'ink you owe it to 'em."

James' parents could only stare.

"Meowth!" Jessie sounded as though she would murder him if he didn't heed her.

"All right, all right!" he shouted back, before turning tail and following his two companions.

The three of them made their way slowly down the driveway of the huge estate.

"That was a complete waste of time," Jessie growled, folding her arms across her chest and scowling darkly down at the feline.

"At least we didn't see Jessibelle," James offered tentatively, shrinking back a little when Jessie turned her glare on him.

"Well, that would've been the icing on the cake, wouldn't it?" she snarled. "I can only imagine how much worse that would've turned out if that harpy had been around! You couldn't even stick up for me in front of your lousy parents!"

"I'm sorry, Jess!" James whined. "It's just that my parents terrify me. Ever since I was a tot they've been determined to change me, and just seeing them makes all the bad memories come back, and I can't stand it!"

"You'll be terrified of me in a minute!" she snapped back, punching his arm.

"All right, quit fightin', youse guys," Meowth sighed, stepping in before a verbal slanging match could ensue. "Yer supposed to be mature adults now dat yer havin' a baby, so quit actin' like kids."

Jessie raised her eyebrow disdainfully but said nothing, to the cat's immense relief. The last thing he wanted was for Jessie to start on him. The trio finally reached the end of the gate and, feeling more disheartened and worried than ever before, turned in the direction of home.

It was dark when they finally reached their little three roomed apartment.

"I'm getting showered, and then I'm getting to bed. I'm exhausted," Jessie told her friends as they stepped over the threshold.

"Good idea," James agreed, following her into the bedroom.

Jessie raised an eyebrow. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked, watching as he began to strip himself.

He frowned. "Getting ready for bed. What does it look like?"

"Oh no, you're on the couch tonight, mister," Jessie shot back at him.

"Wha—why?"

"Because you were such a wimp today! We're back to square one now, and we've not got long before the kid arrives!"

"It's not my fault!" James whined. "They're not your parents, you don't understand!"

Jessie shot him an icy look. "That's right: they're not my parents, because I don't have any!"

Awkward silence for a moment. James looked dumbfounded.

"When I've finished my shower," Jessie said quietly, voice shaking in an effort to keep her temper, "I don't want you in here." She was gone before her lover could answer.

Meowth had been standing quietly by the door, watching the exchange. At the sight of James' lost expression, the Pokémon sighed and moved in to tug at the lavender haired man's leg. "Come on, Jimmy-boy. I'll make room for you on the couch tonight."

"Thanks, I guess," he sighed, allowing the cat to lead him out of the room.

When Jessie had finished showering, she changed into her nightgown and tossed her clothes onto the wash basket. Before she clambered into bed, however, she popped her head around the door to check on her two boys. The shower had cooled her ire considerably, but she was too proud to retract her word and ask James to share the bed again. In any case, he seemed to be comfortable where he was now, curled up on his side, with Meowth strewn across his legs.

She withdrew her head and closed the door behind her.

Later that night, there was a soft knock on the door. Jessie was jerked out of a gentle snooze and heaved herself up groggily, peering owlishly through the darkness.

"Jess?" Her lover's voice was no more than a whisper. "Are you awake?"

"Well, I am now," she called back quietly. "What's wrong?"

Slowly, the door creaked open and James entered, careful to make no noise. He padded cautiously over to the double bed and crawled under the covers, snuggling close to her.

"You're cold," she complained, half-heartedly pushing him away; her body betrayed her as she nestled her swollen being against his. "What are you doing here, anyway? If I recall correctly, I said I wanted to be alone tonight."

"I was scared," he whimpered. "The shadows in the living room kept looking like Jessibelle. I can't sleep in there! Besides," he added, "Meowth's not much of a comfort."

"Oh, fine," she grumbled, hiding a smile, secretly glad that he had made the first move to return and that they weren't leaving this to stew until the morning. "Just make yourself scarce before Meowth wakes up. I can't have him thinking I'm going soft."

"Agreed," he murmured in her ear, already closing his eyes, soothed by her presence. "I love you."

"I know."

"And you're so beautiful."

"You've flattered me quite enough these past few months, James," she groused. "And I'm decidedly not beautiful, not when I look like a Wailmer!"

"No one can resist my charms," he mumbled sleepily. "And I still think you're beautiful." Companionable silence for a moment. "Jess?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry for not sticking up for you earlier. You know, with my parents." He sighed. "I guess I wasn't really prepared to see them again, and I didn't know what to say."

"It's okay, James," Jessie said. She found one of his hands under the duvet and gave it a squeeze to show that she really had forgiven him.

More silence.

Then Jessie lifted her head from the pillow to hover it over James'. She stared at him quietly for a moment before prodding him in the side.

"James?" she whispered. "Can I ask you something?"

He cracked open one of his eyes in confusion. "Sure. What's wrong, Jess?"

She fiddled with a stray strand of her hair for a moment before turning her attention back to him, clearly nervous about something. This only piqued James' curiosity further.

Finally, she said, "James, why don't you want to marry me?"

The question caught him as unexpectedly as a kick to the stomach, and he shot up with wide eyes, almost smacking his head against hers. "What?"

Jessie had turned her gaze to the patterned bed sheets. "You heard me. Every time someone mentions that word you freak out! Is the image of us being married that terrible?"

"No, of course not!" her partner yelped at once.

"You don't need to lie to me," she told him.

Running a hand through his hair, James shifted tentatively. His hands moved to his pyjama top, unhooking the buttons shakily. Jessie was confused: what did undressing have to do with not wanting to marry her?

James discarded his top, then slowly turned around. Jessie was confronted with the white ribbon of scars that snaked their way like a group of Seviper down his back, the ones that he had somehow earned through his time in Team Rocket.

"James…?" Jessie was uncertain now, reaching out with a finger to trace one of the thin lacerations. He shivered at the hyper-sensitive contact, then glanced over his shoulder at his partner.

"These scars," he said softly. "I…I lied to you, Jess."

"Lied to me? What do you mean?"

"I mean that I never got them through Team Rocket. I've had them for much longer than that." He shivered, though the room was far from cold. "Jessibelle…she did this to me. It was part of my training before the…the wedding."

Jessie could only stare in horrified wonder as the truth of his words sank in. Cautiously, she reached out her fingers once again, listening to the scars' horror stories as she did so.

"Arceus," she breathed.

Now she was seeing them through brand new eyes, the lacerations seemed a million times worse. How much pain had these caused a young James? An unwanted image of him curled up, sobbing as Jessibelle smashed her whip against his back, cleaving flesh from bone, flashed through her mind, and Jessie pushed it away hurriedly. That was something she did not want to dwell upon.

Instead, she focused on what these scars meant. "That's why you're afraid. It's not just the thought of marrying me; it's the thought of marriage in general!"

He nodded, pulling his shirt back on. "If…if you want to get married, I will," he said softly. "It's just…it panics me, Jess. I try not to let it, but…but whenever I think of it, I'm reminded of these, and why I got them."

It felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from Jessie's mind at the realisation that she wasn't part of the problem. She snaked her arms around his waist and pulled him back down into the warmth of the bed, pressing her lips against his cheek, relieved beyond anything she'd ever admit to.

"Marriage isn't that important to me," she said softly. "I'm sure we'll cope without it. It's not like we can afford it, anyway. Staying as partners sound good to you?"

James nodded, smiling tentatively. "Sounds great to me, Jess."

Silence descended upon them once more, and he found his eyes drooping once again. Jessie smiled and swept his hair out of his face.

The last thing he heard before he drifted off was, "Don't think I won't kick you out if you snore, though!"

The next morning, a blank envelope and a Pokéball lay on their doormat. Inside the Pokéball was Growly, which had James welling up. Inside the envelope was a cheque. A cheque with enough money to ensure that they would never have to worry about their finances ever again. Neither Jessie nor James were sure just what had happened to make his parents change their minds about the situation, but they weren't about to complain now that they could finally afford a nice house for themselves. Meowth just smiled knowingly, deciding not to gloat. He knew just what had been the winning factor for the trio: himself.

There had also been a note concerning the issue of Jessibelle. Apparently she had been away, holidaying in the Orange Islands with her family when Jessie, James, and Meowth had dropped by those few months before Miya's birth. James' parents had taken it upon themselves—extremely reluctantly, no doubt cursing their good-for-nothing son to high heaven—to break the news to his former fiancé that he would now not be marrying her because he had a duty to another girl and their child. Accordingly, Jessibelle had been both hysterical and distraught, and it had taken her weeks to come to terms with the fact that she wasn't getting her dahlin' James all for herself.

Still, at least that was one task James hadn't had to carry out himself.

James came out of his reverie with a start; Growly was barking joyfully and scampering off. He opened the door to the small village shop and entered. The sound of amiable chatter met his ears as he passed through the wide open door to see the smiling faces of the shop owners.

"Morning," James greeted them, choosing one of the papers and bringing it to the front to be paid for.

"Morning," they returned, laughing a little at the comical sight of the young man with the Chimecho wrapped around his head, and the woman bent down to scratch Growly behind his ears. The puppy Pokémon whined happily.

After paying for the paper James turned towards home, unconsciously smiling at the thought of his family waiting for him.

The money that his parents had sent him had allowed them to move from their grotty apartment to the house they owned now, in this quaint little village. However, instead of splashing the money on all manner of extravagances as they might have been prone to do in the past, both Jessie and James had agreed that the best thing to do was to store the money for Miya in the future, whilst keeping enough for themselves to be certain that they would never be in danger of poverty ever again. Besides, James argued, he didn't want to feel as though he owed his parents too much. By retaining their own jobs, Jessie and James were able to carve their own path through life.

Despite his parents sending him the money, James had never actually met them in person since that rather disastrous day before Miya's arrival.

He hummed to himself as he thought back on the morning of Miya's birth. His parents still to this day disapproved of the direction his life had taken, and they had yet to meet their granddaughter face-to-face, but they had been intrigued by her, there was no denying that.

"I think you may just have broken my fingers," James only half-joked as he finally managed to prise them from Jessie's death grip. He flexed them slightly, as though to test them.

"I can't believe you screamed louder than me," Jessie muttered tiredly, unable to tear her eyes away from the baby girl latched onto her breast. After nine agonising hours of labour, the magenta-haired ex-Rocket had given birth to this beautiful child. The nurses had promptly whisked her away to clean her up, and had handed her back over to her emotionally-wrought mother just minutes ago. Now the baby was enjoying her first ever feed.

James felt an unimaginable level of love for both Jessie and their daughter as he gazed upon the two of them. He reached out with a shaking hand to tentatively caress the baby's cheek.

"I can't believe it," he said in awe. "Look at what we've created, Jess!"

"Perfection," Jessie replied softly, finally turning to look up at her partner.

His heart swelled even further from the look in her eyes. Sweat had matted wisps of her hair to her temples, the rest of it cascading untidily down her back. She was not wearing any makeup because the arrival of the baby had caught her unaware. Dark shadows circled her eyes. And he had never seen her looking more beautiful. "I love you, Jessica."

"I love you too," she echoed, something she rarely did, and James slid his hand to cup her jawline, kissing her so softly that she almost melted beneath him.

"Hey, is it safe ta come out yet?"

The two of them parted to find Meowth peering out from beneath the bed where he had hidden during the delivery. Pokémon were not allowed in this part of the hospital, but Meowth had been adamant about being there, so James had snuck him in under his shirt and shoved him under the bed at the first opportunity.

"Yeah, they've gone now," James said as Jessie returned her attention to their baby.

Meowth hopped onto James' lap to get a better view of the girl. "She's cute," he commented. "Ya musta done somet'in' right, Jimmy!"

"Oh, shut up," he grumbled as the cat jumped onto Jessie's knees. The baby was staring straight up at her mother unblinkingly with huge, mesmerising blue eyes. She had finished feeding and was lying there quietly.

Jessie turned her head slightly, noticing the longing look on her partner's face. Though she was loath to part from her girl, Jessie knew that James had as much right to hold her as she did. And besides, she was secretly looking forward to seeing the two of them together.

"Would you like to hold her?" she asked softly.

James hesitated. He would love to hold her more than anything else, but he was afraid, too. He had no experience dealing with children, let alone babies, and he wasn't sure that he'd be able to hold her without dropping her. The last thing he wanted to do was end up hurting her.

Obviously sensing the problem, Jessie said, "You'll be fine. Look, just hold your arms like I am now and it'll come naturally."

Nervously, he did as instructed, making his arms into a cradle, and she nestled the baby into them, making sure that he was supporting her head carefully. Whilst the exchange was happening, the baby made no sound, content with being passed from mother to father.

"Looks like she's as docile as James is," Meowth noted with a grin. "Phew, dat's good news. At least we won't have a miniature Jessie ta deal wid!"

"Watch your mouth," Jessie snapped at him, and Meowth poked his tongue out at her. James ignored the exchange however, completely consumed by the tiny bundle in his arms. Lavender fuzz lightly covered the top of her head. Her eyes were half-closed now; she was clearly about to fall asleep at any moment. She was so tiny and fragile and beautiful. James had already lost his heart to her.

"What do you think we should call her?" Jessie said softly into his ear, and he started. She was leaning her chin on his shoulder, gazing down at the precious bundle in his arms with bright-eyed wonder.

"I t'ink ya should call her Meowthirina in honour of me," the cat piped up. "I'm da top cat, after all!"

"We're not giving our daughter such a stupid name," Jessie retorted.

"Although I was thinking of calling her something in honour of someone," James said tentatively, flushing when he felt Jessie's questioning gaze on him.

"Oh?" she said. "Who's that, then?"

His blush intensified. "I was thinking it might be a nice gesture to call her Miyamoto, in honour of your momma," he mumbled.

"Miyamoto…" she echoed, looking down at the baby. Then she looked up at her partner with a quiet resolve. "But I want this kid to be able to grow up without thinking that she has to live up to her grandmother's memory. I want her to be her own person."

"So…not Miyamoto?"

"Maybe just Miya," she said softly. Then she gave a little grin. "Miya-Rose."

"Miya-Rose?"

"Well," she grinned slyly, "I know how much you love that flower, and…" She lowered her voice, as though the baby would understand her. "She was conceived that night we did it on that bed of rose petals."

"Oh, brudda." Meowth smacked a paw against his face as James flushed scarlet. That was an image the feline certainly didn't want. To break the rather suggestive tone that the conversation had taken, Meowth voiced a thought that immediately cooled the duo's amorous recollections of that fateful night. "Hey, Jimmy, shouldn't ya ring yer parents an' let 'em know dat yer've had a goil?"

James' eyes widened, clearly panicked. Obviously his parents hadn't even crossed his mind. But, of course, they had a right to know about this—Miya-Rose was, after all, their granddaughter, and they had sent the trio a cheque for enough money to set them up for life, even if it had been with great reluctance.

"I suppose I ought to," he sighed, glancing at the video phone which stood in the corner of the room. Meowth nodded and hopped over to the screen while James handed Miya-Rose back to Jessie. He then joined his feline companion, his shaky fingers punching in his parents' number quickly.

There was static on the screen as they waited for the call to be processed. James glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, biting his lip. It was half-past six in the morning. It was doubtful that anyone but the servants would be up yet.

Finally, the screen cleared, and Hopkins' face came into focus at the other end. His rather sleepy expression sharpened at once when he realised that his young master was on the other side of the connection.

"Master James! What is the meaning of this?"

"Hello, Hopkins," James replied tiredly, feeling a little more comfortable knowing that a screen was separating him from his childhood home. "Would it be possible to speak with Mother and Father?"

"Master James, it is far too early to be disturbing your parents! I must insist that you call back at a more respectable time—"

James stepped aside, allowing the butler to see Jessie sitting up in the bed, cradling Miya-Rose tenderly in her arms. At once his eyes widened as he realised the implications of this call.

"I shall put you through to your parents at once," he said, and the screen went fuzzy for a second time.

It was several minutes before the screen cleared again to reveal James' mother and father dressed impeccably in their extravagant clothes.

"What is the meaning of calling at a time like this, son?" James' father demanded, clearly irritated.

"I'm sorry, Father, but it couldn't really wait."

"Well?" prompted his mother, "what is it, James?"

"Jessie's had the baby. You've got a granddaughter."

Both of them seemed to be stunned into silence as they stared at their son.

"A granddaughter?" James' mother finally managed to whisper. She looked as though she was about to faint. "Is she there with yuh?"

James nodded, and stepped aside again so that the two could see the same sight that Hopkins had seen just moments before.

Jessie felt uncharacteristically self-conscious as James' parents scrutinised both her and their granddaughter. She wished she looked more presentable—if she had, at least they wouldn't have been able to sneer at the way she looked. However, much to her surprise, they did not seem inclined to comment on her. They were too fixated on the child in her arms.

"Well," James' mother breathed finally, "she looks just like you did, James deah. Bring her over heah so we can have a better look."

James nodded, then cautiously took his daughter back from Jessie. She gave him a reassuring smirk, watching as her lavender haired partner tentatively presented his daughter to his parents. They nodded in approval as they soaked her up.

"She looks even more like you than I originally thought," his mother commented. "I hope she doesn't have your hair, though," she added, casting a critical eye over James' mussed tresses. He went to swipe the stray strand of hair from his face at once, only for it to fall stubbornly back into place.

"I assume you weren't present for the birth?" James' father said suddenly, as though the thought had just occurred to him.

James felt the sweat collecting at his temple. Of course he'd been present for the birth. He hadn't wanted to miss it for the world, and the way Jessie had been crushing his hand—and snapping that she was going to kill him for getting her into this predicament in the first place—had ensured that he hadn't been able to escape. Nevertheless, he knew that his own father and every other man from the other side of the social class had sat patiently outside the delivery room, waiting for a sign to crack open the cigars wrapped in either blue or pink paper in celebration.

"Nope, I waited outside," he said brightly, hoping that they didn't detect the slight quiver in his voice, a characteristic of when he was lying to them.

They seemed more preoccupied with the way he spoke. "James, deah, don't say 'nope'. It's not very proper."

"Sorry, Mother."

Her eyes widened as though she'd only just noticed. "And where is your weddin' ring?"

"Wedding ring…?" James looked confused.

"You did do the right thing and marry the girl before the child was born out of wedlock, didn't you?" James' father pressed, frowning in a disapproving manner.

It was something that he hadn't thought of, but he tried to smile confidently. "Of course we're married. It's just that we didn't expect her to arrive tonight and we didn't have time to put them on again before coming here." Well, that sounded lame.

Miraculously, however, this seemed to pacify them.

"What did you decide to call her, anyway?"

He glanced back at Jessie to see her trademark smirk. Whether it was because of his lie or the story behind their child's name, he couldn't tell. "Miya-Rose."

"Miya-Rose?" There seemed to be a hint of distaste in his father's voice.

"Yes," James said defensively, knowing that Jessie was feeling the same way he was. "After Jessie's mother and the time she was—"

"The time she was what?" His mother narrowed her eyes.

James blushed. "Never mind. Anyway, I think we should be going now. I think Miya-Rose wants Jessie." It was true: the baby was screwing up her face as though she was going to begin wailing.

"Then we'll let you go," his father answered.

"I hope you raise her properly," added his mother.

"You can visit her sometime," James offered tentatively.

Both parents wrinkled their noses in a refined manner, making it quite plain that they would not be visiting their granddaughter in her home for as long as she lived. "Perhaps."

And with that, they signed off.

"Well," Meowth said, curling up into a ball as James handed Miya back to Jessie, "dat was a cosy reunion."

Now, three years on, Miya-Rose had still not met her grandparents in the flesh. She had spoken to them on birthdays and Christmas, but that was the extent of her contact with them. Nevertheless, it did not seem to bother her too much and James wasn't really going to complain about not having to see them, either. After all, they still had huge differences which divided them.

And he didn't need them. Not really. In the beginning, and even sometimes when he'd been a member of Team Rocket, he'd wondered why his parents hated him so much that they point-blank refused to even attempt to heal the rift between them. It had hurt him more than he'd ever dare to admit that they hadn't loved him enough to accept him for who he was. Deep down, he'd never be able to forgive them for that. He still loved them—they were his parents, and nothing was ever going to change that—but he had his own family now, and Jessie, Meowth, and Miya made him happier than anyone else in the world.

He was lucky to have such a wonderful family.

---

He was smacked upside the head to bring him back to the world of the living. With a weary groan, he opened his dark eyes to find his partner glaring at him.

"Wha—?" he started blearily.

"You're a useless observer," she growled. "You were meant to be keeping an eye out while I was away!"

"You can't expect me to keep awake all night while you go sleeping around, and then stay awake all day," he snapped back. "It's not fair."

"I'll have you know that my sleeping around has won us vital information from the town's mayor," she said. "I now know that she works for the local Pokémon day care." The words were spat distastefully. "She's been with that dope for at least as long as she's lived here, and their brat has just turned three."

"And of course the only way to pay for this information was to act like a whore," he sneered.

He received another slap for his troubles.

"Shut the fuck up," she growled, her broken fingers aching painfully. "I'm not a whore!"

"Whatever," he said indifferently.

The woman straightened to her full height and glowered down at him, making him draw back just slightly. She was formidable when she was angry.

"I used to like you," she said coldly. "Before these past few years, before you started to be a real bastard. Why have you changed?"

"I'm not the one who's changed!" he yelled after her as she stalked off. "It's you!"

No answer.

"I used to like you, too," he muttered darkly, under his breath. "Now I can't even bear to look at you!"

---

"I'm back!" James sang as he opened the back door. Growly raced into the room, barking madly, and James heard the surprised exclaim from his partner as the puppy leapt onto the sofa beside her. He followed, leaning against the door frame, smiling softly as he watched her petting the puppy behind his ears. Chimecho unfurled herself from James' head and, after nuzzling against him for a moment, floated off to find the rest of the duo's Pokémon.

"Have you looked in there yet?" Jessie asked, gesturing at the paper in his hands and receiving a cold nose to the side of her face when she ceased stroking Growly.

James flopped down in the armchair beside her, looking a bit uneasy. "I have, yeah. Nothing new in there, though."

"Hmm." Jessie began to frown in a pensive manner.

"Where's Miya-Rose, anyway?" He quickly changed the subject, not wishing to dwell on the murder at this very moment.

"She's scolding Meowth somewhere," Jessie grinned. "Apparently he's been terrorising Sparks again—also known as trying to take back something the Pichu stole."

"I'm sure he's overjoyed." James teased. "It's bad enough when he gets what for from you!"

"Watch your mouth," she growled in reply.

"All right, all right," he smiled.

Jessie decided to let it slide, hiding a smirk of her own. "Now, what are we going to do today? I don't feel like lying around here, tempting as it is."

"I thought you'd say that," James sighed regretfully. "Although lying around can be very pleasurable—"

"James!" Jessie was not moved by his attempt at suaveness.

"Fine, fine. How about we go to the park? Miya would enjoy it, and it gives Meowth a chance to escape her wrath."

"Sounds good to me." She heaved herself from her seat. "Give me a moment to sort myself out."

He grinned cheekily at her again. "That's it then. It'll be past Miya's bedtime before we even make it out of the door!"

This time, she tugged sharply on the piece of hair that always fell into his eyes, but she couldn't bring herself to mind his bantering.

After all, they wouldn't be the same without it.

---

She took a shaky drag on her cigarette, exhaling the smoke slowly. The nicotine steadied her nerves, but she hated being so reliant on it.

Like she was on him.

Their new relationship was almost unbearable, tormented by bitter arguments and harsh behaviour. Still, she usually ended up in his arms, their blood mingling, their hearts beating in a united march of hatred.

There was only a fine line between love and hate, and she had already experienced it, had been torn apart by it.

She stopped walking. Threw her cigarette end on the ground. Made her way up the neat path to Mr. Jonathan Taylor's front door. He'd breathlessly told her to call on him if she was staying in the area. She did not like him, with his sweaty body and nervous ways, but she needed release.

She needed to forget, live in another moment, if only for a while.

---

Jessie watched her daughter chase delightedly after her pet, giggling. James smiled beside her, his hand finding hers. Meowth was sitting on his lap, one paw resting against his furry chin.

"Mommy, ice-cweam?" Miya sang as she skipped up, her face flushed. Sparks leapt up onto the bench too, squeaking winningly at Meowth. He did his best to ignore him, but it was proving difficult; the rodent was pawing at his face in a most annoying manner.

"Of course you can, honey," Jessie smiled, patting her purple curls affectionately. "Tell Daddy which sort you want."

"How come I have to go?" whined James, but quickly stood when he noticed his lover's raised eyebrow and the silent warning it carried with it. "C'mon then, Miya-Rose. Want one, Jess? Meowth?"

"I'll have a double chocolate cone," Meowth piped up at once, greedily licking his lips at the prospect.

Jessie sighed dramatically. "I have a funny craving for strawberry. Bring that."

He nodded. "Right you are."

"Daddy!" Miya said impatiently. Sparks leapt onto her shoulder and regarded him with innocent eyes.

"I'm coming, hon," he said endearingly, and with a last wink at Jessie and Meowth, he took his daughter's small hand within his own.

Meowth grinned. "Who's bettin' dat strawberry ice cream never make its way back over here?"

---

He leaned against the wall. Closed his eyes. Breathed evenly. In, out, in, out. This mission was driving in some hard-hitting home truths. He was over thirty, didn't have a girlfriend, didn't have a family, and was most likely to never have either. In truth, he was jealous of what Jessie and James shared. How had it been that they had managed to settle their differences and get it together? They'd had a knack for arguing fiercely with each other, but they had also had a chemistry in their working relationship that ran deeper than just the platonic kind. He had noticed that over the several times he'd encountered them during their Team Rocket days.

Yes, he was still jealous. Plain and simple. That bumbling duo had everything he craved for: love, acceptance, and a family to call their own.

He lit a cigarette and breathed in the smoky fumes, grateful for the distraction. He did not want to dwell on what he was missing out on. It hurt too much. His parents had always had such high hopes for him. What would they think of him now? He glanced, out of habit, up at the sky. They'd be disappointed. No parent ever wanted to see their child fall off the straight road into a life of crime, drugs, and sex. Each of the three categories had become an irreplaceable part of his life. It was who he was now.

It was who he would always be.

"Do you want vanilla or strawberry, sweetheart?"

With a jolt of horror, he realised his quarry, the one he was meant to be watching, was barely fifty metres away, purchasing ice-cream from the little van. He gave a sharp intake of breath and ducked around the corner, just as James glanced up, staring in astonishment.

For a moment, he was certain he had been seen.

Then James squeezed the little girl's hand and walked towards the shop he was lurking beside. He shrank back into the shadows, clamped his eyes shut. If he was caught now, he was as good as dead.

James continued past, explaining something to his daughter. She was listening raptly, craning her neck so she could see her father's face, a look of utmost adoration upon her own features. She was the spitting image of him.

Would my kids have looked like me?

Once he had passed the alley, James cast a glance back. Nothing. No one. He shook his head. Surely his imagination had been deceiving him. He couldn't have seen…not here, surely? It was just his imagination…

…Right?

---

"When will I see you again?"

She hated men like that; the desperate sort who longed to possess a woman. Casual men were a lot harder to come across nowadays. And she knew Taylor was married, had seen the conspicuously hidden photos of faded holidays and weakening memories.

"Soon," she promised hollowly and, pulling her dress down as far as it would go, she pushed open the garden gate and stepped out onto the empty street.

She wouldn't see him again. He had served his purpose.

Unknowingly, unwittingly, he had triggered off the events of a murder.

---

"Here you go, Jess." James handed her the half-melted ice cream distractedly and released Miya's hand. She scampered off to play with her ball nearby, Sparks at her heels.

"Whatsa matter, Jimmy?" Meowth asked, licking his chocolate ice-cream. "Youse look like yer've seen a ghost!"

"Hmm?" James said vaguely.

"You've got this really weird look on your face," said Jessie.

Meowth snickered. "He always looks like dat."

"Thanks," James said sarcastically, attempting to relax his face muscles. I was imagining it…I had to have been…

"James?" Jessie raised a slender eyebrow. "Are you okay? Do you feel well?"

"I'm fine, Jess. Honest." Once more he looked in the direction of the alley he could see in the distance.

Nothing.

---

He sprinted as fast as he could back towards the residence that he was supposed to be monitoring, ignoring the strange and disapproving looks he was receiving from the villagers as he passed through. Luckily, their house stood alone. There would be little chance of being recognised if he kept away from the general activity of the village, though the disguises he and his partner were donning would also reduce the odds of this happening.

He slowed his pace once he'd reached the fields, forced himself to breathe rationally. There was no way for James to prove what he might have seen—he was an expert at hiding away and pretending he didn't exist. He had spent most of his life doing that.

His partner was already back in position, unmoving, watching the house even though no one was in it.

He said, "Do you think we should scout around the outside of here while no one's in?" No apologies. That was how their relationship was now.

She shrugged. "Do whatever the hell you like. I'll stay here if you wanna go check it out."

And that was it. End of conversation.

He dithered for a moment, racked his brain for something to say. But what could he say? There was nothing he hadn't tried already. Why should he bother anymore? She had never made the effort to reach out to him. Why should he be the only one struggling towards the fading beacon that represented the remnants of their relationship?

With one last glance, he turned and left.

---

It was dark when Jessie and her family returned to their home. She had one of her hand slipped into James'. His other arm was occupied by their daughter. Meowth rode on his shoulder.

"Fun day, Daddy," Miya said happily, clinging onto her Pichu.

James smiled. "That's great, honey."

He had decided not to worry just yet about the incident outside the alley. He had told himself that there was no way that they could be out here. Not after all this time.

"Pichaa!" exclaimed the little rodent, and hopped to the ground, his ears flicking. He stopped short, body tense, eyes darting.

Meowth gave him a sceptical look. "Nice try, fuzzface. Youse can't scare me dis easy."

"Why do you think he's trying to scare you?" questioned Jessie.

"I t'ought you was s'posed to woik wid Pokémon?" snorted Meowth. "Sparky-boy is tensin' his muscles, right? Dat generally means a Pokémon is scared. But dere's nut'in' ta be scared of 'round here—no trouble can reach us dis far out. Prolly heard a Ratatta or somet'in'."

Jessie frowned. "I dunno, Meowth. I guess you're right."

"Ya guess? Of course I'm right. I'm still da Top Cat!"

Jessie laughed good-naturedly, but James said nothing.

Sparky-boy is tensin' his muscles, right? Dat generally means a Pokémon is scared. But dere's nut'in' ta be scared of 'round here—no trouble can reach us dis far out.

Was Meowth one hundred percent correct with that statement?

Jessie and Meowth had once said that trouble could be kept out of Team Rocket, but Team Rocket couldn't be kept out of trouble. And, strictly speaking, a part of their Team Rocket past had never truly died…

You can't keep Team Rocket out of trouble.

And if that was so, James reflected nervously, then trouble was not so very far behind.

---

She sat as still as possible, hardly daring to breathe, certain that the Pichu could see right through the bush—to her. She had only shifted her position slightly. She'd forgotten that the electric rat species had super-sensitive hearing. She heard the distinctive sound of the cat's voice, and then the humorous giggles of the bitch.

She begrudged their happiness. They did not deserve it. What had they ever done to earn it? They had never completed extravagant and dangerous missions, had never risked their lives for the greater good, had never contributed to the growing success they were achieving.

If anyone deserved that happiness, she did.

She had the scars of missions that had almost destroyed her. She had brought countless Pokémon into the organisation so it could bloom. She had endured more than her fair share of famine and intense training for the New Dawn.

She had obliterated the love for her partner in order for her career to flourish. Though, she snorted, some career it had turned out to be.

If she could destroy the love of her nemesis, then maybe that would be revenge enough. For now, she had to wait.

---

James lay on his back, arms folded behind his head, staring at the dark ceiling. His mind was all over the place. Had he really seen who he thought he had? If so, what did they want with him and his family? They had been true to their word, hadn't they? So why would they be here? There was no reason. No reason at all.

At that moment, his partner slipped into the room, cutting short any deep, meaningful thoughts that he might have had. She crawled onto the bed beside him, snuggling up to his shoulder.

"Should I be worried?" she said playfully, trailing her fingers lazily up his stomach.

The touch was very distracting. "Hmm? Why?"

She shrugged. "You're thinking about something. Usually it leads to disaster."

"Thanks, Jess. That does wonders for my confidence."

"You're very welcome. So, what were you thinking about?"

"Y'know, just stuff. Miya-Rose, us."

"And that's why you're looking so serious?" she grinned. "Had I better get ready for a whirlwind split? C'mon, be honest with me here. We swore never to keep secrets from each other. Anything you have to deal with, I have to deal with. It's always been our way, even back in Team Rocket."

It was rare for either of them to bring up their past anymore, although it had happened far too many times today. Something about the way she said it made James want to tell her everything. He was scared, he was worried. He needed to unburden himself to her, like he'd done when they were just partners in crime.

But he couldn't.

"Really, it's nothing," he said, turning onto his side and pushing Jessie's hand away. "I don't want to talk about it. Don't worry yourself."

"Fine," Jessie said heatedly, sitting up, evidently not liking being given the brush off. "Don't talk to me about it, see if I care. But don't expect me to listen when you do want to talk!"

And with that, she waltzed angrily out of the room, leaving James alone and confused.

---

Her companion returned at long last. He glanced at her once, before moving quietly to the back of the house so that he could see the kitchen. She followed reluctantly and crouched in the shrubbery, at least a metre away from him. She didn't want to be with him any longer than she needed to anymore, but this was their mission. They were in it together, whether they liked it or not.

The lights were on. The little family was seated at the table. Jessie and James sat at opposite ends, neither speaking nor looking at each other. Jessie was stony faced, her partner sad and worried. The little scratch cat looked uncomfortable, downing his food as fast as he could, as though it was the last meal he'd ever eat. Only the child remained oblivious to the tension. She seemed to be chatting away animatedly about one thing or another, her parents gracing her with short, strained answers.

Her partner gave a snort of contempt, and looked at her once before standing.

"You stay and watch here," he said shortly. "I'll watch the front."

She was about to answer back, but he was gone, melting into the night like a curse. With a few well-chosen words, she sat down in the bushes and waited.

He reclined against a tree, closed his eyes, and sighed heavily. He hated her. Hated her. Yet he hated cutting her off, estranging himself from her too. At one point, there had been an unspoken understanding of their feelings for each other, but that had changed the very day that they had been promoted. He wasn't sure if it was entirely her fault, but it felt good to blame her. Still, a small part of him often wondered what it would've been like had they just continued on as they were, and he sometimes, when alone at night, yearned for the old days.

They had been far better than the new ones.

Nothing could be salvaged from their broken relationship now, he acknowledged sadly. All they could do now was hope that the New Dawn wouldn't darken and swallow them up in its unforgiving hold.

---

"Meowth?"

The feline looked up from his place in front of the TV, where he was curled up waiting to see if there were any developments in the case of the Elite Four leader. Apparently, there weren't any at this stage. Jessie was standing in the doorway, frowning a little.

"What's da matter, Jess?" Meowth asked, sitting up and muting the sound so he could turn an inquisitive stare on his friend.

She sighed and made her way into the room, flopping down onto the sofa. "It's James."

Meowth had figured as much from the way that the duo had not spoken to each other during dinner. "Jimmy? Why, what's he done?"

She cast a glance towards the door to ensure that her partner was still busy tucking Miya into bed. "There's something on his mind, and he won't tell me what it is."

Meowth smirked. "Well, James always has da same t'ings on his mind…and dat's food, Miya, an' sex wid youse. If ya can't woik out which one it is, I feel pretty sorry for ya."

Jessie rolled her eyes, huffing with irritation. "It's not like that, furball. This time it's…it's something different. Something a lot worse. I don't like it when he blocks me out, and I don't like it when he lies to me, either. There's something bothering him, and he won't tell me what it is."

Meowth stretched out languorously. "Ah, I wouldn't worry about it, Jess. Ya know what James is like. He likes ta t'ink of himself as all tough an' stuff, but he's a big softie at heart. He'll crumble an' tell ya all soon enough. Just be patient wid him."

She sighed. "I suppose you're right. I guess I was a bit harsh with him earlier."

Meowth unmuted the television, winking at her as he did so. "Den what are ya waitin' for? Go tell him ya feel bad an' den da make-up sex can begin!"

"Meowth!" Jessie yelled, tossing a cushion at him, but she couldn't help blushing a little.

Because Meowth had just voiced her thoughts.

---

She was waiting outside Miya's room when James emerged. Waiting until he'd closed the door behind him quietly, she asked, "Did she go down okay?"

Noticing that her tone of voice was no longer confrontational, James breathed an internal sigh of relief. "Yeah, she was out like a light. Today must've really tired her out."

Jessie nodded, then turned and made her way down the corridor to their own room. James followed. Once inside, Jessie began to pull her shirt over her head, throwing it haphazardly into one of the corners. She then began to slide her skirt slowly down her body, raising an eyebrow as her partner followed her every move. When she'd accomplished that too, she sat herself down on their bed, leaning back on her hands.

"Jessie…" James swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "What are you doing…?"

Tendrils of hair fell into her face in a becoming fashion, and she brushed them out of the way. "We had a fight earlier, right?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it much of a fight—"

"And what always happens after a fight?"

The way she was running a hand provocatively down her side made it difficult for James to think. "Um…I dunno…"

Jessie smirked widened, and she reclined suggestively against the pillows. "We make up."

Comprehension finally dawned on him. "Oh, right!"

"So, let's start making up."

It was surprising how fast James could move sometimes. Within seconds, he'd crossed the room and had trapped Jessie's body underneath his own. She sat up on her elbows as his hands slid around to unhook her bra, catching the warm flesh underneath and sending enticing shivers up her spine. He grappled for only a second with her knickers, and she settled back down, sighing gently. Slowly, James began to leave a trail of kisses on her neck. Jessie gave an encouraging moan as his mouth travelled lower, towards her chest. He toyed with each of her breasts, massaging one with his fingers as his hot mouth covered the second, his tongue over her nipple, tasting the salty sweetness of her skin. Every nerve of Jessie's body was on fire. She needed him.

Quickly, she pushed herself up, dislodging James as she did so. He gave a whimper of protest, which she silenced with a kiss of her own, sliding her hands under his shirt, feeling the smooth delicacy of his stomach with her fingers. She straddled his hips with her legs without breaking contact with his mouth. James whimpered again in the back of his throat, his hands sliding over her naked back. They broke off the kiss. James fumbled with the buttons on his shirt while Jessie hungrily pulled off his belt, and…

…And, at that point, the woman tore her gaze away from the window with a sound of disgust, while her partner continued to watch the couple, a perverted interest adorning his features.

---

Meowth padded outside, dragging a bag of garbage behind him, which he dumped in the trash can. He twitched his ears and gazed out in the direction of the fields. He could see the grass blowing gently in the breeze. Inside the house, the rest of his Pokémon friends—Growly, Seviper, Wobbuffet, Chimecho, Yanmega, and Mime Jr.—were sound asleep.

Suddenly, he heard something.

It was almost inaudible in the air, a sigh on the wind, a whisper in a different tongue. Curiosity piqued, Meowth followed the sound around to the back of the house where the foliage was much denser. The noise could no longer be heard, but Meowth had an inkling that whatever had caused it was still in the vicinity. His night vision did little to help him penetrate the thick undergrowth, and the feline paused, dithering. What if it was just his imagination playing tricks on him? It had happened enough in the past.

Yet, this time, Meowth was not so certain.

Something, somewhere, was definitely not right.

He swished his tail, his brow furrowed as he tried to make his mind up. Should he go back inside and pretend that nothing had happened, or should he investigate just to make sure?

On any other night, he would have chosen the first option, but something tonight was stopping him. Pokémon instinct or something else, Meowth was not certain, but some unknown force carried his paws forward as he began to search the immediate area, his heart reluctantly speeding up as he became aware of something monitoring his every move. Where was it? The normal type whipped around and plunged blindly into the bush on his left, his eyes shut tightly. There was a cry of pain as his claws came into contact with something soft and fragile. He opened his eyes, shocked, to find himself staring at some sort of bloody face. With a howl of terror the scratch cat leapt backwards, almost falling over himself in a desperate attempt to put as much distance between the creature and himself. He had been expecting many things, but definitely not a human.

A human, watching the house.

Watching their every move.

---

The digital clock's face flickered, the numbers changing to signal the new time: twenty past ten. The gentle sound of even breathing told Jessie that her lover had succeeded in drifting off to sleep, one of his hands resting on her bare hip, the other lost in her sea of magenta hair. He looked so at peace with the world. She let out a barely perceptible sigh of contentment. For all of the uncertainty currently hanging above their heads like a lethal sword, for all of James' sudden secrecy, she was happier than she had ever been in her life. It was far too sappy for her to admit out loud, but during the quiet reflection period in the wake of their lovemaking, the thought was something which made her smile. It was with that thought that she closed her eyes and tried to drift off to sleep.

Seconds later, the terrified yowl pierced the air. Jessie shot up, instantly vigilant, but James slumbered on, oblivious to the night-time mystery. There was the slamming of a door somewhere downstairs, the frantic jingling of the keys, the flurry of padded feet…

Silence.

For a moment, Jessie sat quite still, her ears straining to hear other tell-tale signs of some sort of ambush. Nothing. She was unwilling to move for fear of finding something unwelcome. Nevertheless, careful not to disturb her sleeping partner, she swung her feet over the side of the bed and threw a thin robe over her naked body as she did so. Her footsteps were muffled on the soft carpeted floor, and she quietly opened her bedroom door, poking her head out and staring hard. Nothing out of the ordinary. Growly slept stretched out beside her daughter's room, his head resting lightly on his front paws. Surely if something was terribly wrong, the loyal puppy would've alerted them by now?

Miya's door was ajar.

Silently, Jessie made her way across the landing and peered into her child's room. The young girl's eyes were closed, her delicate lashes brushing against her silky skin. Her breathing was quiet and even and so blissfully alive. Sparks was curled up by her head, his furry paw resting atop her tiny hand. Her Pokémon, her protector. Jessie's heart swelled with even more love as she bent in and placed a tender kiss upon her forehead.

The night she had found out that she was pregnant with Miya, she had lain in bed beside James, both angry and envious that he seemed to be able to sleep while she could not, her heart pounding sickeningly fast, her eyes wide as she'd stared into the darkness. She and James had been making love for almost a year, ever since a rainy night a few days after they'd initially hooked up, when they'd been cold and miserable and hungry from their attempt to reach the nearest town on no income. The ground had been saturated with water and the sky had been rumbling ominously overhead, but there had been something electric about the atmosphere that had not been coming from the lightning: in the way that he'd kissed her breathless, in the way that his body had pressed against hers, in the way that his hands had felt like flames against her soaking skin. So the two of them had given themselves over without abandon in the mud and the grime, moving clumsily together in their first experience of this new phenomenon, with Meowth lying obliviously nearby. They had been as careful as they could in the times after that, with both Jessie and James taking measures to ensure that any unforeseen circumstances did not arise.

They still had, anyway.

That night, when she'd discovered that she was pregnant, Jessie had cried herself to sleep self-pityingly, her lover's hands resting against her flat stomach. She had had no idea how the two of them would cope. James had had no experience with kids, and could not ask his parents for advice because they did not care about him. Jessie herself had had no role model in her life. Ever since her momma had died, she'd had no true mother figure in her life.

How was she supposed to express love for a child when she didn't even know how it felt to be loved like a daughter? How could James be expected to express love for a child when he didn't know how it felt to be loved as a son?

She had grown to like the thought of being a mother eventually, and James had helped her a lot with that. Seeing how excited he was about their imminent arrival had affected her too, and she had found herself to be just as eager. Their child had only made her love James more.

Of course, Miya-Rose had also brought her problems. After the initial exaltation of finally holding her for the first time had worn off, Jessie had been struck by how little she knew about babies and how to care for them. More times than she cared to admit, she had wept in self-loathing at her daughter's crib, terrified of raising her wrong, unsure of how to get her to stop crying. James had been a huge help then too. More often than not, he had calmed Jessie herself before sweeping Miya into his arms and taking her away until she was feeling better prepared to cope. It was times like those that had made Jessie wonder half-admiringly, half-horrified, how Miyamoto had coped with raising her alone.

Now, Jessie felt silly for ever doubting her ability to love her daughter—or James', for that matter. Miya was such a sweet bundle of fun that it was impossible not to adore her. James certainly worshipped the ground upon which she trod.

There was a whimper.

Slowly, Jessie stepped back. She'd recognise that sound anywhere.

"Meowth?" she said softly, squatting beside the bed. She lifted the sheet that hung down, hiding the underneath of it from view. Crouched there, eyes dilated with an animal-like fright, was the cat. His fur stood on end, his whole body shivering.

Jessie frowned, her heartbeat unwillingly speeding up as she gently pulled the shaking creature out into her warm arms. "What were you doing under there?"

It seemed he was unable to speak.

"Well? What brought out the scaredy cat in you?" Jessie's half-jibe did nothing to provoke an answer from the feline. He merely lifted his head and clambered more securely onto her knees. He could tell her his discovery, but what good would that do? It would cause her to panic. He wondered if James knew something about this too. He would speak with his friend tomorrow about his fears, and see if James confirmed them. He must have had a good reason not to tell Jessie, and therefore Meowth would keep quiet as well. It wouldn't do any of them any good if they all spent their time worrying. No, the best thing to do would be to keep Jessie blissfully in the dark. Besides, Miya was bound to notice if both of her parents were scared and confused. She was a clever kid.

Bearing this in mind, the scratch cat said, "Honestly, it was nut'in', Jess. I was takin' da trash out when dis real big Snubbull jumped me. Ya know what dey're like. I've had enough bad experiences wid 'em in da past."

Jessie did not fully believe her long-time comrade—no Snubbull could've had that effect on the poor scratch cat, no matter its size—but she decided not to voice her suspicions.

"Oh, right," she whispered.

"So get back ta yer lover boy. No doubt he's wonderin' where da hell ya are." Meowth gave a wicked grin, winking, a shadow of his old, assured self showing through.

Jessie smirked in return. "For your information, James is asleep. Now, c'mon. I can't leave you here."

Meowth nodded, and followed her out of Miya's room. Jessie closed the door quietly behind her, then tiptoed back to her own chamber. The cat leapt onto the bed and curled up into a tight ball, yawning in satisfaction. He was still nervous, but his two friends had a calming effect on him.

Jessie slipped the gown off of her body and padded, naked, over to the window, straining her eyes as she stared into the dense foliage. Meowth had told her he had been taking the trash out when the incident had happened. She could just see the can from her window. She narrowed her eyes and scrutinised the ground as best she could. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw something moving. She pressed her nose against the glass, but it was gone in a flash, hiding amongst the bushes where she could not see. She could not penetrate the night. She needed a Persian's vision for that.

A foreign sound distracted her from her mission. A sound she had not heard in a long time, and a sound the normal type Pokémon coiled up in her room would deny in the morning.

Meowth was purring.

With one last futile glance out of the window, Jessie turned away and slid back into the warmth of the duvet. Her heart was hammering loudly in her head. She was so sure that there was something out there, so sure it was human…

"Whatsamatter?" James slurred sleepily as she placed her slim arms around him, rousing him from his dreams. She placed a whisper of a kiss on his mouth, hugging him close to her. She could not shake off those unsettling images of the creeping figure…

"Your heart's going a mile a minute," he mumbled drowsily, his hot breath tickling her ear. "What's wrong?"

Despite her unnerving suspicions, Jessie decided not to relate her thoughts to him, at least not then. A reluctant part of her was still feeling sour at him for keeping something from her, but the greater half of her knew that James would panic if she told him what she might have seen. Jessie wanted to find out why the hell someone was out there before they did anything stupid. Maybe the person needed help. Still…why did that give them the right to sneak about their property at half past ten at night?

"I was just thinking about you." She tried the seductive tactic instead. "You were rather spectacular tonight."

James snuggled close to her, wrapping his own arms around her petite waist. "Just tonight? You seem to think I'm rather spectacular every time."

Jessie rolled her eyes. "Goodnight, James."

"Night, Jess," he yawned, burying his head in her skin, not even registering the cat on the end of the bed. Jessie nestled herself against her lover's chest and closed her eyes, but her frantic mind could not rest, replaying the moment she had seen the stature. Had it been tall? Short? Male, female?

It looked as though she'd be in for a sleepless night.

---

He stayed quite still, breath bated as the young mother peered out of the window, sure that she had seen him. His partner crouched beside him, growling under her breath, agitated and fearful. If their target chose to pursue her suspicions, and she found them…well, their lives would not be worth living. They would lose more than the feeling in one hand if they did not pull off this mission successfully.

A few moments later, she disappeared from view, and the duo in the bushes waited motionlessly, wishing, praying to remain undiscovered…

No one came.

The night breeze ruffled their hair as they relaxed their bodies, breathing easier, daring to move their limbs once again.

"I'm sure she saw you," the female hissed, turning her head so she could glare severely at her colleague.

"And how is that my fault?" he growled in return, glowering angrily. "You were the one who bloody well made me go out there to check if the cat had gone!"

The weak blow caused him to wince as her fingertips came into contact with the deep gashes from the feline which decorated his pale cheeks. The woman spat some well-chosen words through gritted teeth as her fingers shot with a white hot pain, courtesy of her ruthless leader.

"Don't let it happen again," she snarled quietly, her gaze flickering back to the dark house. "Do you want him to break our other hands?"

"Of course not," he snapped. "But I can't help it if the stupid cat went and told her, can I? We'll just have to complete the mission earlier than we planned to if he has."

This new assignment had destroyed what little remained of their relationship, but what could they do to stop it? They had accepted their new status those four years prior. There was no way they could get out now, no matter their feelings.

They were in too deep, drowning in their lies and in their deceit. Every time one of them clawed weakly for the bleak sunshine, something would pull them back, whether it was a new project or their co-workers themselves. Then they'd find themselves back where they'd started: the bottom of the ocean, with no breath left to stake another fight for freedom and survival.

And there they'd struggle, until Death took pity on them and claimed them as His own.