Author's Note: You guys are getting this chapter now because my beta reader is super awesome. That's all I can say about it. LOL. Actually, I bused most of this out like a week ago. I was seriously on a writing kick and couldn't stop. Now however, I will have to take a break till spring break arrives. Yes, spring break is coming up. Yay! Just a couple more weeks of school and then I may be able to post more for you guys. AND I am currently working on chapter 2 of Junk of the Heart. Haven't forgotten about it! Hopefully that too will be uploaded soon.

Also, in case anyone was interested, I wanted to let you all know I posted a poll on my profile a few days ago. It basically asks what story you as readers would like to read next once I complete Sunlight's Return. Of course, the results of the poll won't ultimately determine my decision, but will give me insight on what you guys are most eager to read. :) So please, feel free to vote!

Thanks for being so patient and please enjoy! :)

DISCLAIMER: Pokémon belongs to Satoshi Tajiri. My oc's belong to me. :)

Sunlight's Return

Chapter 6

A Plan in Motion

The groaning of rampaging Tauros and cries of grazing Mareep in the distance filtered Dani's ears.

She had risen early that morning, earlier than Ernest even had. Dashing out to the stalls before the sun was beginning to skim its rays across Pallet, Dani excitedly began the usual routine on the farm and surprised Ernest happily as he eventually found her halfway done with the mandatory chores. There was no other place Dani preferred to be than there on her grandparents' little slice of heaven, and found true enjoyment in raising the Pokémon with such appreciation and tentative care. The sloshing in the mud and slipping on overalls, she supposed, was just a taste of what it felt like to truly be a breeder; a professional and reputable breeder who knew all the ins and outs of certain Pokémon care.

Soaking in her deep thoughts while milking a grazing Miltank, a cast of a human shadow caught the lavender-haired girl off guard. Green eyes wandered upward as she caught sight of a midnight-haired ruffled boy standing before her in the barn filled with the scent of hay. Dani grinned at her cousin and then at Pikachu who was perched cheerfully on his shoulder.

"Glad to see you remembered not to sleep in," she jokingly remarked, tending to squeezing richer, creamy milk out of the udders.

Ash grew a similar smile, catching on to Dani's cheekiness. "Very funny. I actually didn't get much sleep last night," he stated, stretching his arms up. The touch of the sun's warm rays on his arms was soothing.

"Oh?" Dani inquired, still working. "Got a lot on your mind?"

By this time, Ash's hand was gently traveling across the back of the tame Miltank's back. "Kind of..." As the teenager's thoughts trailed off, the sound of dribbles of milk hitting the metal bucket echoing in the red coated barn, Ash's eyes wandered elsewhere. Removing his hand slowly, he watched a peculiar scene unfold. Occurring directly outside the barn's open doors, towards the open field, the trainer observed his grandfather wrangling the crying and scurrying Mareep. This wasn't abnormal, but what was, was whom Ernest was using to corral the downy creatures.

Ash raised an eyebrow curiously. "What's Grandpa doing?"

Blowing a strand of hair away from her eyesight, Dani briefly glanced up then back down at the barely filled bucket. "He's trying to teach Sweetie how to herd," she explained plainly. "But I don't think he's catching on well."

"Sweetie? Why's he trying to make him do that? Aren't Rex and Fly-"

"They're getting older Ash," Dani reminded, painfully at that. "Fly is so stiff, she can hardly move, and Rex isn't too far behind. They're ready for retirement, and Grandpa's seeing if Sweetie can take over. If that doesn't work, then he has to go buy some new Jolteon from a breeder."

It was inevitable to think Rex and Fly would live the lifespan of humans. They were quite frankly old, and had been working past their age of retirement. The Jolteon were as loyal and hardworking as they were to their flock, and were at last winding down and could no longer be motivated to work based on the earnings of pats and treats. Even when they were together, Rex and Fly had become much less rambunctious, barked less, and their greetings to Ash happy and pleasant, as they were no longer consisting of constant licking of the hands and continual jumping. They weren't the same pair of Jolteon Ash and Dani used to play out in the field with as toddlers. They were elderly, and fully deserved to live out the rest of their lives in peace and quiet, with many opportunities of being overly spoiled.

None of that Ash could deny.

But a Leafeon trying to corral a herd of electric types... Sweetie was the kept offspring of Rex and Fly, the one Eevee pup ten-year-old Delia begged to keep when her parents were in the midst of handing them out to other trainers and farmers. But instead of following the same traditional formula, Delia used that small moss rock Jay had brought back from his internship in Sinnoh and used it on her even-tempered Eevee. It was, at the time, a good choice, seeing while taking a class from Prof. Oak Delia was very engrossed in the working of grass types. However, when she left home, married and pregnant, Sweetie, as she so befittingly called him, had become more of a companion to Leah. He always ventured and helped her out in the garden or lay at her feet while she read or cooked. He never really was ordered to go out and do any manual labor. Though by the looks of it, he was trying...

After a short pause, Ash smiled. "Then I'll help," he decided.

Dani quit squeezing the utters of the chewing Miltank and looked up. "How are you going to do that?" she inquired, intrigued.

"You want to be a breeder, Dani. What's the first thing a trainer can do to help integrate a Pokémon into a new working environment?"

Integrate and a new working environment? Either Ash was reading more books or someone had been helping in the expansion of his vocabulary. Nonetheless, Dani grinned faintly at the thought of her once young, naïve cousin and considered Ash's posed question.

"I guess Grandpa would have to see if Sweetie would be eager to work in the first place," the breeder-in-the-making reasoned logically. "If he's not, then most likely he won't be a good candidate for the job. Sweetie is awfully timid, but then again it's not like he's totally disinterested in the Mareep."

Ash nodded back, agreeing with his cousin's thoughts. "Then if Sweetie's interested we just have to figure out a way to help him get into the groove of things 'till he's comfortable with it. And for Grandpa not to have to watch him so much," the teenager added, wincing softly at the sound of Ernest's frustrated hollering.

Dani too heard this, and was still a tad surprised her cousin was so eager to take it all on. When Ernest was agitated, he was never fun to deal with, and a very confused and inexperienced Sweetie didn't sound like a good choice to throw into the mix. Yet here was Ash, excited to take on the challenge and help out.

"You really want to do this?" Dani dared to ask again, continuing to milk the heifer. "It may sound easy but I don't think any changes are going to happen overnight."

"I know that," Ash agreed, seeing her point, but his optimism didn't waver. "But still, why not? You could help me. And maybe Tracey could, too. I think it would be beneficial to all three of us as trainers in a way. And besides," he carried on, now staring back outside of the barn. Ash took in another breath of clean air and sighed inwardly. "I'm gonna be stayin' home for a while. I need something to keep me busy...that involves Pokémon," the trainer finally admitted, not able to resist a short chuckle.

Dani smiled at this. She should have known better. Ash would stick around for anything Pokémon related, especially if it meant helping out his family. It would definitely be a good outlet for him during his stay, and Dani couldn't argue that it wouldn't be a great opportunity for her as well. She loved the farm and all its little wonders, and relieving Ernest of a headache was probably wise for all of them.

Not too long after, Dani came to a decision. "Okay. Let's help Grandpa then."

Ash's smile finally bloomed, his excited stance bouncing Pikachu on his shoulder. "All right!"

"Pika, pika!" the mouse agreed.

"But before we help Grandpa, you can help me clean the Rapidash stalls," Dani suddenly suggested, picking up the bucket from underneath the milked heifer. "I haven't gotten to that yet."

Ash's smile drooped. First it was his mom with the chores and now Dani? At least he could visit the Rapidash, and a quick jaunt around the property did sound tempting to take. Agreeing without a fight, Ash joined Dani by her side and began their way out. However, as their exit started a faint noise erupted inside the Miltank-ridden barn.

A bale of hay rustled, almost sounding as if a hiss originated from within its straw. Then, an abrupt sneeze ensued with the toppling of what sounded like small feet. Batting off a thick layer of hay, none other than Meowth popped out of his hiding place. A large frown was plastered on his furry face as he watched the twerp and his cousin stroll off to another forsaken barn, and groaned at the smell of livestock.

Dis ain't fair! the cat grimaced. While Jessie and James get to stuffin' deir faces, I gotta be here in dis stingy old barn watchin' for nothin' AND gettin' bitt'n to death! Just a couple of old Jolteon dat can't work anymore, a Leafeon dat doesn't know up from down and some stubborn Miltank-

Midway through Meowth's mental rant he stopped. The casting of a subtle shadow caught his eye in the upper level of the barn, as if something was doing a balancing act across one of the support beams. A Pokémon, to be precise, that was well known for its great reflexes and landing on its feet without fail. As he spotted the creature, he caught the flash of her fluttering eyelashes and soft meow. She was probably the one that gave him fleas, but now he didn't care.

Meowth finally found something worthwhile during his time of spying. And he liked it without denial.

A silly, hazy, and toothy grin slipped from his mouth. Oh- she's cute!

Tired feet ached and brains were fried from the searching of the supposed Thornfield Hall Bed and Breakfast.

Various paths were taken down paved walkways and stops for cars delayed their venture over. But it didn't stop Misty or Brock from pressing forward. After straying far away from the festival's corridors, they eventually believed to have located the temporary dwelling of Ash's father and Drake. The building was, without question, unidentifiable if searching for its residents by the virtual world. All that kept coming up was a beer-themed bed and breakfast located on that specific road, which left the two trainers to assume that business somehow disappeared and was replaced by this- distinctively decorated foundation.

Glancing between a map and the establishment before them, Brock's eyes finally settled on Misty. "I think this is the place they said they were staying at."

She nodded back in agreement, and then her gaze trailed to the blooming rose bushes engulfing the stairwell to the front door. "I'm surprised it's a bed and breakfast and not the Pokémon Center," Misty acknowledged, her eyes sweeping across the scattered flowers.

"Probably was full," reasoned Brock as he rolled up the map.

"Yeah."

At that moment, Misty found herself itching to enter the dwelling but hesitant all at once. Questions begging to be answered pounded in the trainer's head as she fought off her natural instinct to think twice. As much as she hated biting back her words, finding out the full truth left Misty anxious. She wasn't sure exactly why, after all, her speech of aid had rather been both convincing to Brock and even herself. Her heart persuading her to offer her services in any way she could, but her head screaming Team Rocket and a man on the run for ten years was something no one would willingly tangle with.

Yet here was Misty, her friend by her side as they stood with anticipation and a mixture of rising exhilaration. It was thrilling and somewhat terrifying. And neither one was keen on communicating their current feelings on the subject.

Twisting her mouth, Misty's lingered her attention back to the front door, then to Brock again. But she got nothing. "So... should we go in?"

Brock kept staring straight ahead. "I suppose we should- Oh. Just, uh, hold on a second." He pried his phone back out of his pocket again, and quickly began pushing buttons. "'Gotta make sure my mom didn't send me a text this morning."

Misty made a face. "Your mom? Or a girl, Brock?"

Okay, so he wasn't checking to see if Lola left him a message. Between wrangling the kids up for breakfast and feeding herself, she was more likely to call around early afternoon. That, or even later. But Misty didn't need to know that. Then again, she probably already picked up on the phone call patterns...

Brock's eyes nervously darted. "Let me speculate just for once without crushing my hopes!" he desperately cried.

His pathetic plea seemed to silence Misty, though that didn't stop her from giving him a look. A look in which he ignored as he anxiously checked his messages. Maybe that girl from his nursing class would call him, and maybe even program his number into her phone-

There were no messages from any girl. But Brock didn't look depressed or utterly saddened that his hopeful love interest decided not to message or call him back. Instead, Brock bore a look of seriousness; a firm stare he wore as he focused on the message, scrolling down with his phone and slowly creasing brow. Misty anxious dipped her toes forward to get a closer peak, though her subtle invasion of privacy was cut short by her friend's speedily gazing at her.

"Looks like I got a message from Ash," he stated bluntly. Then, his gaze dove towards her burnt red short's pocket. "Check yours."

Misty lowered her brows. "Why?"

"Who's the person Ash always associates with me? Who our remaining traveling companion was?"

Misty smiled at that. The recognition of being the original trio was sweet and sentimental. Bringing up such a brief memory made Misty remember how much she missed those days of being just kids, going on crazy adventures with Team Rocket chasing after them, and always knowing she had friends who had her back no matter what kind of silly squabbles erupted between them. Simply recalling all those years ago caused her to replay the meetings of her dearest friends. Brock at the gym and then Ash... Thinking back on that day she fished that messy dark-haired boy out the river, Misty found him to be an irresponsible, inexperienced, and a rash trainer with little to no patience or thought. But now... she clearly had misjudged. And she wasn't shy about admitting that.

Reaching for her phone, Misty did as Brock ordered and was surprised as to what she uncovered. Ash didn't just leave her a text message; he left a voice-mail. Not that him calling was a bad or strange occurrence, but the timing with his father's appearance was too uncanny to be overlooked. That, and the message he left her was very...peculiar, that the fluttering in her stomach couldn't be explained.

Eventually, once she finished listening to the message, Misty spoke. "Me too," she said.

"This is too ironic," he snorted.

Panicked sea-green eyes flashed up at Brock in a hurry, an impending fear riding heavily in Misty's gut. "What should we do, Brock?" she asked outwardly. "What do we say? He asked me if I wanted to come over sometime, and he was so weird about it, too..."

Closely, Brock watched Misty's slight shake of her head and trailing of words. What did she mean by weird? Out of concern and curiosity, he held his hand out.

"Let me listen."

There was slight hesitation, but Misty went ahead and placed her phone in Brock's palm. A biting of her glossed lips followed as she watched him put the phone to his ear, listening to the message himself. He appeared plain and quiet, not easily readable as she anxiously waited by. What was the matter with her? It was just a message, a message of Ash simply inviting her over to catch up like old times. Nothing new or different. So why- why did she feel like something was changing? Was it the fluctuation in his voice, his word choice, the lack of cheeriness and confidence in his tone?

The movement of Misty's gaze to the pavement caught Brock's attention, and he watched his younger friend closely with peculiar eyes as the message wrapped up. Brock was certainly surprised. At first, he wanted to say: 'Well all be damned. Ash finally made a move.' However, Brock decided not to, to prevent the loss of brain cells at the pounding clenched fist. He was dealing with Misty after all.

"He left you a message," he stated plainly, looking to her with an unreadable gaze as he handed the phone back over.

Misty raised a brow as she took the device from it. "Yeah, why?"

"He just texted me."

"So?"

"So, that means somethin', Misty."

The wrinkling of Misty's forehead took over her expression as anxiety ensued. She didn't like where this was going, and felt the conversation was too ridiculous to entertain. "No, it doesn't," the redhead countered, faint irritability riding in her vocal cords.

However, it wasn't enough to dismiss Brock's pursuing of the subject. "I think I know a little more about what goes on through a guy's head than you do," he argued swiftly without much debate.

It wasn't over on Misty's account, though. The implications in her view, was like looking for something that was never there to begin with. Brock may have believed he earned the rightful title as "Love Doctor," and that being a male himself, he had the capability of decrypting the words Ash was attempting to communicate. As if it was the "guy code" or something... Shaking her head again, Misty shot him another serious expression.

"Brock," she firmly started, "Ash and I are friends. Just friends. There's nothing more to it."

"I know," he nodded understandingly. "But I think it means something that he took time to leave you a minute long message, while he wrote me a brief one."

Misty simply rolled her eyes at that logic. "It's Ash, Brock. His fingers were probably cramping up or something. Or he didn't know how to spell a certain word."

"Sounded like all the words he said would be pretty easy for him to spell to me," her friend responded nonchalantly, although knowing his reply was scratching at the surface of her agitation.

"You know Ash doesn't have a big vocabulary," she retorted boldly, her temper beginning to flare with narrowing brows.

Yet Brock kept up his studying, silent as the grave as he stared. Then, he spoke with resolution. "... You still have feelings for him, don't you?" he more so stated than questioned.

Misty visibly stiffened, eyes wandering to the side with no intention of glancing back. A pooling of blush skimmed across her cheeks as she kept her stare downward. These old feelings... Were they really old? Or just- dormant? Confusion was far too dominate for her to think straight, causing Misty's flustered mind to conquer her face. "I- I don't want to talk about this," she at last declared in a definite breath. "Let's just go in already. We can deal with him later."

Brock remained unmoved as he continued to observe his uncomfortable friend, unsure of what to say. It was silly to him that they had subtly danced around each other for so long, and frankly, he didn't see why his two best friends couldn't come to terms with reality. Where was the harm? If anything, the change could be a good thing. Scary, yes. But good nonetheless. Before the knowledgeable Pokémon doctor in the making could assure Misty rather than rattle her, they were graced with the presences of others. The two men they had sought after that morning.

Walking down the front porch of the establishment, Jay and Drake froze in their tracks, shocked by the teenagers' ironic appearance. Silence took over the air briefly.

Sooner than later, however, Jay looked to his brother and bared a faint smile. "Well, that was easy."

Among the many occupied tables across the Butterfree Inn dining hall, one in the far back corner spurred a joyful pair who was beyond grateful to have their stomachs filled with a pleasing meal.

Wiping any last remaining crumbs from his upper lip, James released a sigh of satisfaction. "Boy, that hit the spot! That veggie pesto sandwich was divine!" he exclaimed, patting his full gut as he leaned back in his chair. "Meowth sure doesn't know what he's missing! Wonder what he's up to right now?" he soon pondered, cocking a thoughtful look.

Jessie was busy rummaging through her jean pocket, gleaming down as she pulled something from it. "Probably chasing a barn Rattata," she replied sarcastically, as if Meowth was supposed to adjust to his new environment in a mere couple of hours.

Not staring off because of her comment but because of the contents revealed in Jessie's hand, James watched his partner's hand slam onto the tabletop. He raised a surprised brow, continuing to watch her carefully as she discreetly adjusted the rim of her dark red wig, without it revealing any strands of brilliant magenta. That morning, Jessie delivered their disguises to James that she had somehow scrounged up, which didn't shock the man at all; however, what puzzled James was how she decided to handle their scheme, and her insistence to pose as average costumers who could afford to pay the bill.

Swallowing, James posed a question. "Hey, Jess?"

"Yeah, what?"

"How did you get the money to pay for our meal?"

Jessie's blue eyes gleamed down at the thin pile of cash and change next to the bill, and with no flicker of emotion she answered. "Don't worry about it. All you need to do is play the part of a sap when the twerp's mom comes over."

When the twerp's mom came over? James bit his lip, trying to recall the elaborate dialogue exchange Jessie had elucidated on their walk to the inn, after dropping Meowth off at the Parker's farm. But somehow, it was ringing a bell. "And how did my part go exactly?" he dared to ask, meekness showing through weak clenched teeth of a smile.

As expected, a groan of annoyance flew from Jessie's mouth. "I told you on the way over, James!"

"Yes, but that old lady selling peaches on the sidewalk distracted me. They looked absolutely scrumptious!" he countered, hoping it was a reasonable excuse. He was so hungry, and that white-haired woman was kind enough to let them sample one peach for free. And too blind for her not to witness the theft of another plump fruit of juiciness. "Though," he continued to comment, going off on another tangent, "her outfit was rather atrocious-"

"Fine, I'll run it by you one more time." As much as she agreed about the elderly woman's outdated wardrobe, that was not the discussion at hand. And Jessie didn't have much time before Donna Reed would bounce over, pleasantly expecting the payment to be ready.

"When she comes over here for our bill, we'll somehow get into a conversation about our 'life,' claiming we're broke, near homeless, and got married right out of high school as we struggle through community college because our 'parents' refuse to lend us aid. And that's because they were against us getting married so young. Do you understand why I'm suggesting this scenario?" she at last asked, hoping the load of information was ingested in one gulp without further repeated questions.

Cupping his chin with his hand, James pondered momentarily. "I believe so," he nodded reasonably. "We sound like pathetic folk she'd easily take pity on- at least listen to. But Jessie, how will we know this story will relate to the twerp's mom enough for her to hire us out of pity?"

That James made a valid point of. It was one thing to grovel and run a list of a hundred complaints about their supposed "life" to a willing listener, but was any of their "turmoil" enough to earn a job purely out of pathetic compassion? If that was the case, James believed that it had better been a damn good story, even for the likes of Glinda the Good to fall for.

At his questioning Jessie grew a smirk, giving him a quick wink before explaining. "My women's intuition tells me she's one of those girls who married her 'childhood sweetheart.' That's why. That and I've heard the twerp talk about her before."

"In what context?"

"In that she was some farm girl who got married off to a rich snob," Jessie groaned back. "Don't you remember anything about visiting the twerp's other grandparents?"

The mention of the twerp's well-endowed grandparents was plenty to snap James out of the continual questions, and in doing so called attention to himself with a shrill shriek. "Eeek! Don't you remind me about that!" he ordered sharply, more so than in a frightful manner. Though his aggressiveness spoke out of a fearful response, not wanting to be reminded of his childhood that was similar to a Natu being locked up in a cage. "You know I'm sensitive about any home with a barking headmistress, expensive candlesticks, furniture you can't spill anything on and the eerie feeling that your fate has been decided for you since you were in the womb!"

Jessie snorted at her partner's overly dramatic testimony. "Well excuse me if nice things don't bother me!" It may have been a traumatic and not so flowery childhood as most would imagine, but for Jessie, a life of being spoiled and coddled sounded much more pleasing than living in a shack, having snowballs as her favorite treat, and her hair as her best friend... Not that she ever minded any of her quirks. "After coming from a house with practically a dirt floor and no window shutters-"

"Mamma-twerp's coming over!"

James unexpected declaration hushed the both of them, ending their silly altercation with lowered eyes as Delia gracefully pranced over to the pair. She grinned a friendly smile, her pose soft and words spoken sweetly from her genuinely kind mouth. Her overly cheery disposition made Jessie's skin crawl with rising anticipation.

"So, was everything okay?" the agents heard 'mamma-twerp' ask.

"Oh yes!" Jessie was the first to exclaim with a fake smile, adjusting her voice to a lighter level than her usual tone. "Absolutely delicious!"

"We enjoyed every bite of it!" James did the same, only he deepened his already lower voice.

Delia kept her smile the same as she nodded, then posed another question. "I'm so glad. Is there anything else I can get you two then?"

Anxiously, the agents shared a glance. "Actually, I think we've had our allotment," Jessie replied on behalf of both of them.

They only had so much money...but the strawberry cheesecake and blackberry pie on the dessert rack did look awfully tempting... No, they couldn't.

"Well then, thank you both for coming," Delia graciously spoke, removing the payment off the table. "We appreciate your patronage."

Before an attempt at leaving was made on Delia's account, with swift and desperate fingers Jessie clasped her hands together in an eternally thankful pose. She was wearing one of the many faces she used while "acting." "No, thank you for offering such affordable prices," she gushed boldly. "My hubby and I can hardly afford a single meal in Viridian with all its outrageous prices!"

"Hubby?" James croaked softly, nearly choking on his own spit. He remembered they were posing as a married couple, but the pet-name was too sudden for him to process. At least, for some strange reason it startled him...

Delia nodded back all the same, still using a very neutral tone. "Yes, Viridian can be a little expensive sometimes."

"And not in just their food which, by the way, is much lower grade than yours." It never hurt to add a few dashes of brown-nosing when needed. As long as it wasn't obvious to the person one was so effervescently kissing up to. "You see, the apartment my sweetie and I are renting out- the one that we can hardly pay for, well- let me just say," Jessie decided to whisper with a slightly bitten lip, "it costs four times the worth of a measly meal in Viridian."

"Oh, my!"

Just the kind of reaction the agent was wanting and expecting! Cautiously suppressing her self-satisfaction over her cleverness, Jessie continued her act without even a crack of a smile. "Hmhm! Only place that had open housing. And our landlord is so greedy. Isn't he, hon?"

"Uh, yes!" James hastily answered, a forced smile hiding his urge to cough repeatedly. "Yes, he's quite the cheapskate."

"Oh, and the smoke!" Jessie embellished, on a roll with the entire scenario. "With the way he puffs those expensive cigars and those loud parties going on downstairs, I don't know how on earth we'll be able to have our own little one!"

"Little one?!"

James nearly stopped himself short of a mad holler before officially ruining their brilliant scheme in the making. And had to swallow his gulp full of water very carefully. A sharp glance was hurriedly whirled his way, piercing blue eyes and faint gritting of teeth as if an order for him to keep his mouth shut. He never meant to almost blow their cover with his unrehearsed exclamation. The mention of an unborn baby was never in the plan, nor did he think Jessie would go as far as to suggest that. Even if it all was pretend, the wanting of a child with her made him cringe a cringe he had never before.

Thankfully, for both the criminals' sake, Delia either dismissed or simply overlooked James' sudden exclaim from possibly choking again. "Do you both work?" she instead inquired innocently.

The harsh expression worn on Jessie's face softened into something pathetic and lowly. "Sadly, no. I'm trying to go to school to become a- chiropractor and my husband just got laid off."

If either one of them was going to have an imaginary career it was Jessie. She wasn't about to be deemed as some housewife while James was the one earning an education and engaging in social and economic debates. Not that Jessie knew much on either subject to begin with. Though she knew enough to know where to properly place the blame for their "misfortune."

"You can thank the rut in our economy for that," she spat wittily, both with bitterness and implied humor.

Auburn eyebrows lowered. "I'm very sorry to hear about that. Going off on your own for the first time can be rather difficult." Delia out of anyone could speak for herself.

Jessie wanted to grin at that knowing of that. "It's been a hardship," she carried on with a sigh, saddened blue eyes looking to James as if searching for some empathy and love. "And our parents refuse to give us a loan or help us find work! They're not very happy with the match. It's coming to the point where I might have to quit school and- well, I don't want to even think about living on the streets."

With a quivering hand and lip, Jessie averted her gaze to the side and reached for something in her pocket, bringing whatever it was close to her eye, and then twirled back to Delia with a full fledge of tears in the making. "All those things you hear on the news!" she suddenly exclaimed with gusto. "It's terrifying to imagine, let alone experience!"

And she could speak from experience on several occasions. Then again, living in such an atmosphere toughened her up to a whole new level.

This of course, was unknown to Delia. As Jessie went on blubbering and James depressingly gazing down at his empty plate, a sympathetic feeling stirred within the kind woman. The couple before her was rather- peculiar, but they seemed relatively harmless. And who was she to judge? There was plenty of... unique people in Pallet itself, and bearing an understanding of their hardships was enough to win her over. Too ironic to a point, but nevertheless Delia found comfort in seeing another couple similar to her and her husband's (but with much less eccentricities) struggle with burdens relatable to their past ones. She recalled what the feelings of panic, fear, and overall anxiety were like as a newlywed, and how challenging it was to putter through the chaos and swollen ankles without feeling like the world was tumbling down upon her. All the help Delia did gain during that difficult period was greatly appreciated, and with her personally having a baby on the way at the same time, she was twice as thankful for every bit.

Gentle chestnut eyes gleamed down at the struggling couple, the woman's warm heart brewing with an act of kindness in the making. It was the least she could do as a Good Samaritan, right?

"Say," Delia soon started with an upbeat tone, a soft, friendly smile gracing her face, "we might have some positions opening here for waiters and waitresses. We have a big event coming up, and we could use any extra sets of hands who are dedicated to the job."

Jackpot.

As if a light switch had been flicked on, Jessie's tears ceased immediately and with full enthusiasm, she reached for Delia's hand and snatched it in her tight grasp. "Ma'am, I cannot thank you enough from the bottom of my heart and express to you how much we appreciate this! Right?"

"Yes, it's quite kind of you!" This time, James answered on cue. He was baring a tamer version of his "wife's" zealous thankfulness. "My wife and I would be very much obliged if you'd let us have an interview."

"Why don't you two come in tomorrow morning then?" Delia suggested, her heart lightly soaring at their eagerness. "Do either of you have any experience in the restaurant business?"

"We do! I believe I have our food handler's cards in here..." Releasing Delia's loose hand, Jessie dove for her decoy purse, rummaging through it to provide proof. "Have to carry my husband's things around," she explained with a faint laugh. "He loses everything!"

Delia just smiled back. "Oh, I see. Don't worry about showing me now," the woman insisted with a wave of her hand, ending Jessie's long searching through her purse. "If ten o'clock works for you, we can have our meeting then. Of course, you'll be interviewed by the owner so you can bring your cards and resumes in then."

James stared with wide eyes, first looking to Jessie for an explanation. But he received nothing, so hoping he didn't appear panicked, looked back to Delia. "You're not the owner?" he asked plainly.

"Oh, no." Delia shook her head. "My mother is. But I'll put in a good word for you two..." She paused for a moment, which slightly left the couple unnerved till another smile grew on Delia's lips. "You know what? Don't worry about the bill," she waved, handing the money back to James.

His eyebrows arched in surprise as his hand lay limp. "Really?"

"Really, it's on the house. Have a nice day, you two, and thank you for coming." Soft footsteps began their exit away from the table, and a single glance to each other ignited gleeful and wide grins on Jessie and James's faces. That is, till the voice of a princess rang through the room again. "And, I'm sorry," Delia suddenly approached the table once more, promptly Jessie and James to act casual again, "but I didn't catch your names."

The one thing Jessie forgot to devise. She didn't need to look to see James nervously gazing at her from the corner of her eye. Damn. Why did she always have to be the one to remember all the little details?

"Uh... Jason and Celia," she finally decided. They seemed like typical names and names that screamed a cute couple with sunny dispositions, pies wafting on their kitchen windowsills, and a movable trailer they took when camping. Yeah, those names sounded like an ordinary couple that would make someone like Jessie gag.

"Jason and Celia Catchen," she repeated, adding in a last name. Delia's name-tag was helpful in that part. "We've been smitten with each other ever since he walked me home in the rain our freshman year because my umbrella broke. It was fate! Remember that darling?"

Another contrived story conjured in less than two minutes. How did Jessie she do it? James thought, but kept his wondering to himself. "Oh, yes! I remember like it was just yesterday!" he added just as merrily.

"Well then, Jason and Celia, I will put you both down for ten o'clock tomorrow."

This confirmation only furthered the agents growing grins.

"Wonderful!" exclaimed James as Delia waved goodbye with a twirl.

"And thank you again, Miss!"

"Please, call me Delia," the woman corrected promptly before strutting off again.

Jessie contained a devilish giggle as she wiggled her fingers with her forced waving. "Thank you, Delia!"

If she could have cackled like the Wicked Witch of the West, Jessie would have, and without a care, even with Delia freezing in her tracks for a moment. That couple's names...it had to be a coincidence. Continuing her walk, Jessie at last released a faint shrill of a chuckle and admired her looks through the clear crystal of her water glass. She couldn't help but lavish herself with self-credit. Not that her ego needed any more of it.

James, on the other hand, while delighted the plans went through, gave Jessie's satisfied look a raise of his brow. "Well, you're quite the conniving little manipulator," he commented, his arms folded over his chest. "You got us interviews and a free meal."

"So I fibbed and put water-droplets in my eyes," his partner snorted with no guilt, as well as revealing what exactly she was reaching for in her purse earlier...not to his surprise. But who was James to complain? At least the plan was in motion, even if it did require a few fibs and fake tears. Nevertheless, if all went well, Giovanni would hopefully be pleased. "At least we're guaranteed to be hired now. And I can keep this cash for other things."

A blank stare crossed James face as he watched Jessie flip through the kept crisp green bills, already beginning to fantasize her next big shopping trip with just fifteen dollars. There were still a couple of things on his mind...

"Say," he finally spoke up, "why did you give me the name Jason?"

Was it really that important? If anything, Jason sounded more believable than Alfonso or Sebastian. It didn't take much creative genius to think of that one.

"I don't know!" Jessie shrugged with an annoyed huff as she tuck the money into her purse. "It just sounded right."

Quickly as they appeared, Misty and Brock were shuffled into the bed and breakfast.

They were bypassed by Nancy after Jay told some ludicrous lie that Misty was his daughter, and that he was visiting her and her friend under the pretenses of his and his wife's splitting up. His visiting rights apparently were very short. Drake, of course, had no part in it but did not stop his crafty brother from brewing the fib either. If it could get them away from the nosy owner and all the other guests, then by all means Jay had control over the entire scheme.

Eventually, the trainers were led back into the brothers' sanctuary from all the commotion downstairs. It was, however, not as pleasant on the eyes as Brock and Misty would have hoped. Calling the room a 'sanctuary' was a stretch. Clearly, they were desperate to stay there.

"This place is uh...interesting," Brock awkwardly said, gawking at his surroundings. He had never seen anyone decorate a room with flowers so distastefully before.

Jay looked over his shoulder momentarily as he went away packing his belongings. The stark decor made him shudder. "It wasn't our first pick," he muttered sourly, shoving some potion and extra pokeballs in his duffle bag.

"We're surprised to see you two," said Drake, leaning against the dresser with his arms folded over his broad chest. "Thankful, actually," he added with a little smile.

Brock's brows rose. "How so?"

"We were coming to look for you," Jay answered, still bitterly zipping up his bag. Nancy and her hundred questions as he pushed 'his daughter and her friend' up the stairs must have gotten to him.

Both of the trainers shared a quick glance as they stood off to the side.

"That's what we were doing," Misty spoke up first, surprised.

Finally, Jay stopped fiddling with his bag. Then, he gazed up at her. "Really?"

"Yeah."

Icy blue eyes traveled back down to his bag. "Huh. Guess we're on the same page then."

With steady knees the master rose back up, all eyes peering on him as he reached full height. What exactly did he mean by "on the same page"? It was becoming rather suspicious that Jay and Drake were looking for them, too, and it only made sense that the brothers were seeking them for similar reasons...

"Not exactly," Misty corrected, cutting to the chase. "What do you both want with us?"

"A small favor," Jay answered, no details falling from his mouth.

Again, questions stumped Misty and Brock's mind. They shared another side glance, and pondered only for a moment before turning back to the two men. This time, Brock took charge in speaking. "How small are we talking?"

A sudden pause swallowed the room. Brock, in particular, stared at Jay oddly, then to Drake, waiting for the response he was expecting to receive. It appeared Drake felt tempted to talk, but instead, Jay gave a thoughtful look and posed a question in return.

"Why were you two looking for us?" the master decided to throw back. He was being polite about it, but a sense of cocky curiosity filtered his vocal cords. "You haven't clarified that."

It was the third time Misty and Brock looked to each other. Saying they were confused by Jay's response was an understatement. They comprehended what he was asking; there was no failure in computing in that department. What they were befuddled about was why he felt the need to hear them out first.

Eventually, the trainers looked back at them. "We wanted to offer our assistance," Brock replied openly, with nothing to hide. "Mr. Ketchum, you said that Team Rocket was after you, so...if there's any way we can help, where we won't get in the way, please let us know. We're just concerned if- what you're caught up in is gonna affect your family."

A faint smile graced Jay's face. They could be trusted.

Soon, the master allowed a bigger smile to slip from his lips. "Then you answered your own question."

Surprised, yet somehow not at all, Misty's eyes widened. "You want our help?"

"If it's not too much trouble," he replied, a twinge of seriousness taking over his voice. "I don't expect either of you to agree to any of this, or that the possible danger won't turn you away. Drake or I wouldn't want to see either of you get hurt."

Danger? Hurt? For as long as they fought against the organization, Team Rocket was a cakewalk to Brock and Misty. Sure there were times where it seemed the criminals really amped up their game, but in the long run things always turned out for the best. The heroes always won, with their loved and cared for Pokémon by their sides. However...maybe in this instance it was going to be different. Much different. Either Ash's dad wasn't a talented trainer at all or he was so skilled because of the resistance he built up against Team Rocket. After all, they weren't just dealing with the bumbling trio of Jessie, James, and Meowth. Cassidy and Butch on the other hand...they were a close second.

But Misty and Brock weren't ready to discount anything yet. They agreed silently that it was for the best to hear Ash's father and Drake out. Then from there, they would ultimately make their decision in the supposedly dangerous participation.

"What do you have in mind?" Brock promptly asked, open for discussion but still with a cautious guard.

Jay didn't read into the young man's careful nature, and soon went on with his proposal. He had been thinking, after all, how to approach his son's friends on the matter. "If it's possible, I'd like to ask you both to travel to Pallet. While you're there, I need you to find the appropriate time and talk with my son and wife."

"What about?" Misty posed, anxious for an answer.

Jay smiled very faintly at her eagerness. "I'm getting to that," he said calmly. "I need you two to tell them that I've left for valid reasons. That I've been protecting them."

"From what?" the girl continued to pursue.

That Jay found difficulty explaining in full detail. It was, in a sense, still hard for him to talk about, though he knew Brock and Misty deserved a reasonable explanation. At this moment however, the less said the better.

"From something far greater than our average imagination can comprehend," Jay summed up, seeming to suffice the questioning trainers. They fell silent as he reached for his duffle bag again, searching for something that neither one anticipated. Pulling it out slowly, Jay at last revealed the mystery item, and instantaneously the trainer's mouths fell open. "This is a genuine feather from the legendary bird Ho-Oh," he stated without a single stutter as he held it up by the tip of the quill. "I believe Team Rocket needs this to help fulfill their mission. That mission, however, is still unknown to me."

Waving the feather back and forth slowly in the air, the two trainers were able to get a full look of the magnificent find. It shimmered a new color every time the light hit the barbs of the feather, capturing an effervescent glow of a brilliant color. It was as if seeing the basic colors Brock and Misty knew be renewed into something twice as exquisite and beautiful to gaze at. Red, yellow, orange, green...they all mingled together harmoniously with glittering sparkles glistening across the surface.

Brock continued to gawk at it in amazement. "C-can we touch it?" he dared to ask.

"Sure."

Jay passed the feather over to them gently, and with a careful hand Brock took it in his grasp. Delicately, Misty ran the tips of her fingers over the feathering, feeling the foreign texture most Pokémon scientists and professors would kill to feel. And here was she, just a water Pokémon gym leader, and she was one of the very few touching an authentic Ho-Oh feather. At least, it was claimed to be. But it appeared too real to throw out any accusation of falsehood.

"This is amazing..." Misty soon murmured, mesmerized by it all.

As dazzled as Brock was, too, he still felt a rumble of uncertainty in his gut. It made perfect sense for Team Rocket to want this rare and highly valuable feather, but what would be their use for it? And why did Jay have it? How did he out of all people get his hands on it? And if the feather was such a burden, why didn't he simply- get rid of it?

"Why didn't you try destroying it?" the Pokémon doctor in training questioned, looking both to Jay or Drake for an answer. "Sure it's an artifact, a beautiful one at that, but is it worth keeping with Team Rocket constantly after you?"

"I've tried that," Jay faintly sighed. "You can't destroy it. It's not brittle at all. And you can't burn it, electrify it, cut it apart with a leaf attack, or use any sort of attack on it. Nothing can destroy it. So my only hope is to entrust it into your hands. This feather will be your proof to my story and should hopefully secure my family's safety as well as yours."

"So this is the item- This is the item Giovanni wants from you?" It never hurt to double-check, but Brock was positive this was the "item" Jay was mentioning at the restaurant the other night. Unfathomable as it all sounded...

"I believe so," Jay replied. "There's no other logical reason why he'd be after me other than what happened to his mother and what I have. She, um...well, she didn't make it. Let's just put it that way."

She didn't make it? Misty was the first to steal everyone's attention with a shrill gasp, her sea-green eyes shaking at the understanding of Ash's father's words. Did he... Did he really-

"You killed her?" she blurted uncontrollably, and regretted her words by the time they were spoken.

Jay lowered his eyebrows, urgent to clear the air but never panicked about it either. He knew in the end he had done nothing wrong and that Madame Boss's death was ultimately not his doing, but her own. Still, it sounded bad at first.

"No- not exactly. Listen, I can tell you the heavier details later," the master insisted, slightly on edge. "All you need to know is a long time ago I accidentally got mixed up in Team Rocket's scheme and the original founder, Giovanni's mother, wanted to use me to summon Ho-Oh so she could use the bird for her corrupt selfish desires. Needless to say, she got what she deserved. And in the end, I got this," he concluded, referring to the feather still in Brock's grasp.

"From Ho-Oh?" Misty asked. She wanted to make sure she was following everything correctly. It was simply too much to process!

Jay nodded with a tired sigh. "Yes."

"You're telling us you actually made it come?-"

"Listen, I know it sounds far-fetched and I probably sound like someone who needs to be checked into a mental hospital, but I'm telling you the truth." His idea of cutting to the chase never meant to be harsh, but Jay was growing exhausted of the questions, even though they were valid and deserved to be asked. He just prayed continuously that Ash's friends would trust him.

And thankfully, someone was there to lend the tired man aid.

"He is." The teenagers' eyes suddenly led back to Drake, who bore similar seriousness as his brother with a twinge of sincere honesty. "It's all true and we wouldn't lie about it," he insisted evenly.

"I swear I'm not messing with you guys." This time, Jay's voice sounded more passionate, a true glimmer of desperation seeping through that icy gaze as he held theirs. "I need your help, but in order for me to get that, we need full cooperation on both of our ends. I promise I will tell you more in detail, in time, but as of now that's the fastest version I can give you," he continued to explain, stony-faced with sternness. "We don't have much time before Team Rocket shows their face again. We've got to get moving to ensure you guys' safety."

There was no denying any of it. Jayce Ketchum wasn't faking, and if he was, then that meant he was a damn good actor. But Brock didn't think so. Misty didn't think so. No. The credible feather, Drake's testimony, and the look of distress in his eyes that begged for some kind of resolution, for everything to finally be resolved...

For him to see Ash and Delia again.

After a short pause, Brock nodded steadily. "Okay."

A look of relief and bona fide thankfulness graced Jay's expression. "Thank you," he breathed, withholding his want to rejoice. "Once you get to Pallet, I will disclose all the details for you to tell them. I don't expect for you to tell them immediately, but sooner than later is preferable."

"But why can't you tell them the truth?" Misty suddenly questioned, still confused by that part. "I know you said it's for their safety, but what are you and Drake going to do-"

"Don't worry about us," Drake assured. "I think the Pokémon League will believe us with our credibility."

"Your credibility?" she repeated with another astonished look. "As in plural?"

"I'm a newly high-ranking trainer of sorts," Jay clarified, hoping it would be enough.

"Like a Pokémon Ranger? Or a champion?" Brock posed.

Jay sighed again. There was no getting around those two. It felt he either had to tell them everything or nothing at all. "Was a champion, never was a ranger."

Jay's explanation still wasn't enough to suffice their curious minds, though, and with one look of "go ahead and tell them" from his brother, Drake was hopefully able to cease any further questioning. Or possibly invite a whole slew of new ones.

"He's going to be the next Pokémon Master," Drake bluntly stated, unable to find any other way of confessing the truth.

The next Pokémon Master? The trainers were thrown for another loop, but then again, with all these secrets being disclosed was this new one much of a shocker? Maybe it wasn't the biggest one, but it was up there; knowing this now made Misty and Brock wonder how talented of a trainer Ash's father was. To be deemed as a Pokémon Master meant he was the best of the best, better than even any of the Elite Four members. There hadn't been one in over fifty years, and he was the next one to earn such an incredible title?

Having difficulty fathoming this new discovery Misty threw out another question. "Going to be or are?"

"Technically I already am, but the ceremony at the Indigo League will make it all official," the master stated. "And if you don't mind, please don't spoil the news to Ash and Delia. Unless you absolutely have to."

There was another expression of pathetic insistence that Brock didn't see the need to fight.

"Understood," the young man said.

Continuing on with the plan, Jay took in a deep breath. "I can't step into Pallet or speak to either one of them till I know they're safe. Giovanni forced me to leave by threatening their lives, and while it all could be a bluff I take it very seriously. He wants me to do something for him, use this feather or whatever, and I can't take any more risks than I already have. Drake and I are hoping the league will believe us, and somehow get the police involved for them to handle the matter. Until then do not breathe a word of your knowledge to anyone. For your own lives.

"However," he breathed again, a flicker of something positive glimmering in his eyes, "there is one person you can turn to in Pallet if you need help or need to communicate with me."

"Who?" asked Misty. This was something she was definitely interested in hearing.

"Go to Prof. Oak," Jay instructed. "He knows about everything. He's the one who's been helping me all this time and is currently conducting research on Ho-Oh. He's trying to figure out what Team Rocket's up to. I'm assuming you both know of him?"

Another shock neither one was expecting nor had time to mull over. Prof. Oak? He out of all people was the one in Pallet who was supposedly holding all these secrets, away from Ash and Delia? It made perfect sense with his diverse knowledge and reliability, but would he really conceal information from the Ketchum family without a pang of guilt or regret?

"Y-yeah," Brock sputtered first, stupefied. "We know him really well."

Jay smiled softly. "Glad to hear." His smile, however, wasn't enough to make either teen grin in comfort, urging the master to do more than simply be satisfied. Jay did, after all, want Misty and Brock to feel comfortable. And if they didn't, there was no need for them to pursue any of it.

Swallowing, he started again with a sincere tone. "I know this is difficult to process, but we all should probably get going and split up if we want this to work. And this would be your last opportunity to back out. So if you feel the need to, then do so. I wouldn't blame you, nor do I expect any of this from either of you."

He seemed so...fatherly, especially in Misty's eyes. She imagined the look Jay was giving her was something Ash once used to gaze up at and feel utterly secure with. Bearing faults or not, Jay appeared to be a good man and was obviously very loyal to his family. He cared about Delia and Ash enough to be on the run for ten years, and to accept whatever the future held for his own fate in the matter... It was outrageously risky and harmful to their lives, but Misty and Brock couldn't think of being selfish. Obviously, Jay wanted this badly, and if Team Rocket was planning on distorting the world and abuse the power of legendries for their own evil needs, then that was something neither trainer was about to stand aside and allow to happen.

Not on their watch.

For a long time they gazed at each other, and then with subtle nods looked back at the anxious men before them.

"No," Misty insisted with certainty.

There was no turning back.

"We're in."