Author - Chibi / Warlordess
Disclaimer - I don't own Pokemon. At this point, that's a very good thing, seeing as I barely have enough time to spend writing up my fanciful fics, let alone if I owned the actual series. . .
Notes - I have a sickness. I obviously have a sickness. I've started a new fic when I have so many others in progress. Then again, "Illicit Saints" and "Blind" might as well be on hold. . . and I've already got the first eight chapters of this fic all planned out. Gods, this fic might actually be one of the longest (chapter-wise) yet. But please read and review and tell me if you think I should continue this immediately.
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Pokemon - "The Strangest Kind of Love"
Chapter Nine - "That You Know What You Want"
Fic Facts:
Summary - Many years into the future, Ash and Misty are both looking to settle down. The only issue is, neither one is very good at keeping a relationship going. Then, by odd convenience, they end up moving in together. . . Pokeshipping fic.
Rating - Teen. Or PG-13. Whichever works for you. The rating is alluded to the fact that there will be adult fluffiness, alcohol, and pregnancy, eventually. Plus it just feels right.
Characters and Ages -
Ash / 23
Misty / 24
Brock / 26
Tracey / 25
May / 19
Drew / 20
Gary / 24
Delia / 45
Professor Oak / 49
(Note that not all of these characters will be that important.)
The idea for this fic was created in August of 2005.
This fic was officially started in March of 2006.
This chapter was officially started January 17th, 2008.
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Tick. Tock.
It's been said that an hourglass is the perfect visual depiction of time as it stands, as it moves forward. The sand that has fallen already is the past, the sand currently escaping to the bottom of the device is the present, and the sand waiting its turn to fall is the future.
And each grain of sand is a moment of joy, of fear, of anger, of sadness. . . a moment of your individual life. Every grain hits the bottom of the hourglass one at a time, except for under special circumstances. You never know it until the time passes where you realize just who is most important to you because two grains or more falling at once means that your time has been intertwined with someone elses, and it can only happen if that person means more to you than anyone else.
Then again, it is only a theory with no way to prove it true or false. But beliefs are beliefs and they are hard to defer because, for those, a person needs faith as well. And faith keeps you from ever giving up a belief; it would be a part of you already.
Ash Ketchum of Pallet Town had crossed paths with many people, made many allies and enemies - some who knew him better than his own family. However it would be wrong to turn a head and assume that all of these people meant enough to him to earn a chance to become a grain in his hourglass. Not even Misty had reached that plateau yet, but she wasn't discouraged, seeing as she had never learned of such a theory.
A person whose grains of sand - whose time - would join with his. . . it would mean that they were inseperable, and in the literal sense of the word. Because once your time is brought together with that of another individual, and your hourglasses have meshed (even if only slightly). . . you had no choice in the matter but to remain with them for eternity; the kind of eternity with moment after moment of joy, fear, anger, and sadness.
And though Misty Waterflower had not gained that wondrous position yet, Ash couldn't help feeling more attatched to her now than most other times he'd been alone with her. A womans' tears were beautiful. Maybe that was why Brock left so many women to cry in fear of him; because a woman crying out about her greatest worries and fears and rejections. . . was an artistic masterpiece. Or so Ash thought as he stared down at Misty sitting on his couch, suddenly trying very hard to hide her face behind one of his cushions so that he might not see.
All he could do was stare; he couldn't help it. Misty had a look that said she definitely didn't want to be seen, that she was wallowing in her miseries, that the fact that he was watching her made her feel more than uncomfortable - it was like she was on display.
"S - sorry. . ." Ash finally stated with a grunt, although he wasn't sure what he was sorry for. All he knew was that his best friend was glaring at him in a threatening way and he suddenly felt as though he were the bad guy. And Ash Ketchum hated more than anything to be the bad guy. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing at all; why do you keep looking at me? You're making me feel wierd, like I wanna hit you really hard to make you stop." She dropped her gaze from him in order to stare interestingly at her toes. Ash stared at them for a moment, too, until he realized that there was nothing very entertaining about them.
"Sorry," he repeated, stepping over her and taking a seat on his couch. He laid back in a lazy way and waited for a few seconds before saying anything else. Misty wasn't sure if this was because he was waiting for her to make the first move towards conversation or because he simply didn't know what to say; both were rather Ash-like possibilities.
Misty didn't want to talk, to be fairly blunt. She'd done enough talking, especially with Ash, for the rest of the week. Plus she didn't want to feel anymore stupid than she already did. Anything she had to say would be utterly repetitive by now and she didn't want to be laughed at.
"Is it my fault? Does it smell that bad in here?" Contrary to five minutes ago, when Ash had first walked in and been completely blown away by her appearance, he sounded like he hadn't been fazed at all now. He gave a very low chuckle at his own joke, as though it were more for her benefit than his.
Misty was finally looking at him again, but she was frowning disappointedly. Apparently he wasn't that funny.
"Oh, hah hah. No, Ash, this time it has nothing to do with you. . . so maybe it's time for you to finally butt out! 'Cause you always say something great to lift me up and then somehow, I get torn down again. . . So let me be angry and hurt in peace."
"Angry at me? Hurt by me? What'd I do this time?"
The question left the air thick around them and Ash was sure for a moment that Misty was refusing to answer. It especially seemed like it when she suddenly reached her feet and brushed past him, knocking his heels from the coffee table where he'd spread them out lazily before and walking towards the kitchen.
And then she stopped at the video phone and picked up the receiver.
"Hey, wait! You can be mad all ya want, Myst, but that's just wrong to go and start making a call when we're talking! I mean, even ignoring me shouldn't include doing something like that!"
"Idiot! Ignoring you means going about daily life activities inspite of your disturbance, doesn't it? Still. . . that's not what I'm doing."
It was out of pure curiosity that Ash also rose from his seat on the couch and joined her by the phone. She was dialing a familiar number now that he could see the keys she was pressing, but it only confused him more.
"Wait. . . why are you calling the voicemail?" He asked, but she simply pressed the speakerphone button and slammed the receiver back down.
"Main menu; to hear new messages, press one. To hear saved messages, press two. To hear your automated message, press three. To change your automated message, press four. To repeat menu options, press five." A female tone sounded electronically from the monitor. Misty grunted begrudgingly, awkwardly finding her way to the number two button and pressing it.
As far as Ash could remember, he'd not saved anything for a year or so now. . .
"Misty, this is - like - Lily! Daisy said something totally strange earlier today and I just wanted to make sure it was a joke so I'm calling you to verify it. . . Misty? C'mon little sister, I know you're there; you have nothing better to be doing, right?" A slightly familiar tone of voice rambled on over the machine. "Well, whatever. . . Just - like - make sure you call me ASAP!" There was a beep and a new message began playing.
"Misty, it's Lily again; I'm getting ready to go to work but I thought I'd - like - try and see if you were there to take this call. . . I mean, you do know it's been almost two weeks since we talked, right? And you still have to come home. Look," there was an exasperated sigh before the woman moved on, "the boss said he'll keep your job open to you for another four days but, after that, he's gonna have to give up the hours to another employee. . . Little sister, you've totally gotta take your shifts back! We - like - can't afford to let you let them go!"
Another click, a timestamp, and a new voice took over.
"Misty, this is Violet. Daisy said it's not a joke, no matter how much we laugh about it. She keeps trying to take the phone from us, though, so we can't help thinking that she doesn't want us to talk to you and find out the truth. There is another story to this, right? You'll be back soon, won't you? Just make sure you - like - prove Daisy wrong and act the responsible one; I. . . we. . . know you're capable of it."
Another click.
"Misty! C'mon, it's not funny anymore! We're getting tired of your games and we expect you home by the end of the week! Remember, your shifts are almost gone!"
Beep.
"Misty! Stop - like - playing and answer the phone! I'm tired of you avoiding us!" Lily's voice was clearly unsatisfied by the fact that none of her messages had been returned.
"Yeah, Lily and I have suddenly been told we need to pay to live in our Gym! Daisy said that it's not her fault, which means it wasn't her idea - it was yours, wasn't it?"
"How could you stab us in the back like that, huh? Like, you need to come back and help us pay this debt off, and then you need to set Miss-Blonde-Head-Case Daisy right! She's on a total freakshow-patrol and won't let us touch the Pokemon unless we're taking 'em to the Center!"
"If you don't answer us by the end of the day, we're gonna. . . we're gonna. . . um. . ." Violet's tone was suddenly unsure and Lily picked it up in her place.
"We're - like - totally gonna come to Pallet and pick you up ourselves!"
"Yea, so take responsibility for yourself and get your own butt back down here so we don't end up spending all of our hard-earned cash on you!"
Beep.
"Misty, we mean it--"
Beep.
"We're not kidding, little sister! Your stubborn personality is driving us crazy--"
Beep.
"End of messages." The automated woman's tone said and even Ash drew in a deep breath.
"Whew, I thought they'd never give up. . ."
"They haven't yet. Those last three messages were from today alone. They. . . they just won't let me go! UGH!"
"So. . . what's the problem? I thought this whole thing was settled already." Ash shrugged and watched Misty for a reaction. Unlike what he'd been hoping for (although he didn't really know what that was either), she only sniffled and drew her hands into fists out of frustration.
"I - it was supposed to be! But, as it turns out, Daisy doesn't really know how to handle Lily and Violet any better than I do and she can't stop them from making calls, even if those calls are to harass me! I was ignoring them at first but then. . . they've been trying almost two times a day! I can't keep pretending like I'm not here, I can't keep acting like I'm not getting the messages, and I won't keep avoiding them!" She screamed out in rage, almost pounding a fist into the wall beside her. "But. . . but. . . I don't know what else to do. Daisy tried to stop this from happening, she tried to derail the stress I would feel when telling them but. . . they would still have their own questions and worries, and those can only be answered by me. . . right?" She looked up at Ash and sighed dejectedly again.
"Misty, how old are you?"
"What? You never ask a woman that question!"
"No, really, humor me here," Ash coughed once, twice, and waited for her glare to subside.
"Twenty-four years old. . ." She gave in, praying for his death in the same breath.
"Right, you're an adult, aren't you?"
"More than you'll ever be."
"Hm, ignoring that. . . you know how to deal with life, don't you? And you know when a situation has ended on your part, right?"
"Well, I. . . maybe. . . But does it really sound like it's over?"
"This is a bad joke, isn't it?" Ash laughed and picked up the receiver again, dialed his voicemail, and waited for the main menu to start up again before pressing the number two button.
"W - what are you doing. . . ?"
"Oh, nothing. . . just deleting these messages that mean absolutely nothing for you now."
"Wait, what? Those are mine! Stop!" She tried to reach out and pull him away from pressing the numerical delete button, but he practically slapped her hand away.
"You already talked to Daisy and set up your longterm stay here; this, therefore, makes you my roomate and your other sisters, no matter how hopeful they may be in wait for your nonexistant return to Cerulean, have no reason to be calling you like they are. But you're the real surprise in this, aren't you, Myst?" He asked, laughing in a sarcastic way under his breath.
"Wh - what's that supposed to mean?" Misty crossed her arms, now more aggravated than upset in any other form.
"Why are you keeping these stupid things?" He asked while nodding to the terminal in front of him as he finally deleted the fifth message.
"I. . . I don't know. . . but they're mine, from my relatives, and I'm still wondering why you're getting rid of them!"
"Because you don't need them, because your part in this issue ended after you finished your conversation with Daisy awhile ago, because you're only keeping these stupid - pointless - things to make yourself feel guiltier about leaving your sisters behind!"
"And just why the hell am I not supposed to feel guilty?!" She shrieked as loudly as possible, finally ending the climax to their argument. Ash suddenly looked pleased as he finished with the last of the messages and then looked up at her in a way that said he'd clearly won.
"You're allowed to feel as guilty as you want, Myst; I obviously can't stop you, can I?" He asked, first eyeing her and then eyeing his phone. "But you're being stupid about it. You're being immature and you're acting like you're anchored to this problem that you've already faced awhile ago and should have gotten past by now."
"But. . . just because I've done what I thought was right doesn't mean that. . . they're voices won't hurt me; it doesn't mean that their words don't cut me. . ."
"You're a good person."
"I know that!" The redhead snarled in a way that said she dared him to keep going trying to make her feel better.
"You're smart and reliable, and responsible despite what they say."
"I - I know that, too! Why are you telling me these things now?!" She stomped her foot and glared at him but found time to hide the red that was gracing her feminine features.
"Because you must not have ever heard them enough."
"Huh? Look," she started, looking down and burning a hole in the carpet, "just because my sisters haven't treated me right doesn't mean I don't know how good a person I am! And the last person I want telling me these things is the one who told me the exact opposite for most of the four years we traveled together!"
"Oh, so now it's come down to us and how we've gotten along together since we were teenagers, huh? Well, ignoring the fact that an argument can't be fully conducted by one person," and Ash looked her up and down before continuing, "I'll move on. I won't apologize. It's in my blood, something that says I'm not allowed. But I can tell you honestly that, after the first few weeks of your annoying, girly voice and your bug issues and your obsession with getting that dumb bike back, I sorta got used to you. I might have even started to like you."
Misty blinked at him as though waiting for him to continue. She was red still, but it almost looked as though she were about to burst out into laughter.
"Okay. . . fine," he shrugged with a sigh, "I thought you were really cool when you battled people like Giselle, even when you lost. You took it hard, exactly like someone who was trying their hardest should; and you moved on, exactly like someone so serious about their dreams should. I thought you were responsible, making sure Brock didn't get deported from the country because of the thousands of sexual harassment claims he retained, and you kept me from dying a few times, didn't you? And you were smart when solving Blaine's riddles and pr - er, you weren't half-bad looking during times like the End of Summer Festival at Maidens' Peak." He coughed again and pretended to wipe his brow dry though there had really been nothing there. He'd only been trying to hide the blush from his cheeks.
"You know," he continued, looking up at her again, face clear, "you can stop me anytime you want."
"Eh, I know, but I'm kinda liking this. You always were slow on the uptake, Ash." She said, prodding him in the chest. "Even in Viridian, before I left, you waited until the last moment to say anything nice to me. . . Why else do you think I had such trouble accepting the fact that I had to go? It seemed incomplete, somehow, to leave on those terms we had to face. . ." She stared riminiscently at the place just above one of his shoulders, as though she wasn't really seeing it, and then jumped back to reality at the sound of his next cough.
"Well, whatever; I guess I can get over it all a little easier now. . . So, you'll be saying these things to me everyday from now on, right?" She asked with a laugh before jogging up the stairs.
Ash blinked, comprehending about twenty seconds later that, even though she was running away from him, she might have been expecting an answer to that.
"Er, no, probably not. . ."
"Well, it's a good thing I recorded it all, then!" She yelled back towards him, before shutting the door to her room, leaving Ash to only hope that it was a joke.
She was pretty good by now at those awful ones. . .
After the matter was finally, finally closed, Misty chose not to save or respond to her sisters calls. They did not see fit to travel out to Pallet Town to drag her back to Cerulean themselves, and Ash and Misty were sure that Daisy had put her foot down in order to prevent that.
Ash now had the time to face his own epiphany, however. It was one he wouldn't dare be telling anyone anytime soon. Ever since the day he'd walked in on Misty in tears, it had hit him full-force, something that he suddenly found himself unable to deny, and he was worried about what it would lead to.
Falling for his best friend had come as a bit of a shock. . . Okay, it had been something that had almost made him fall back in collapse. Nevertheless, it wasn't as scary as it could have been, and it was almost familiar somehow. . . Almost like he'd been placed in this same type of predicament years and years ago. Maybe he hadn't realized it at the time; he was never any genius, after all. But now it seemed so obvious and simple. . .
You know, except for the fact that it wasn't so simple.
Misty was through with her sisters and had turned her attentions onto some more job prospects. Knowing that money wouldn't be much of a problem in general, she'd started looking for employment in Viridian, too, making sure that she left Tuesday afternoons open in case of any bi-weekly meetings. She didn't depend on Ash to relay messages and, instead, apologized to Brock and May as personally as possible over the phone, and they forgave her, also trying to catch glimpses of Ash over her shoulder to applaud his successful efforts in getting her to talk.
Ash, though. . . decided there were many other places he'd rather be. If nothing else, he found it almost impossible to look Misty in the eyes, especially when she tried to ask him if he was okay. Women must have been equipped with something men had missed altogether, he knew; considering he couldn't help but almost spill his guts to her at the suggestion.
Even worse - and possibly the one thing that ensured Ash keep his silence - was the fact that Misty's relationship with that Derek Martin was steadily becoming more and more serious. She disappeared once a week or so, overnight, and came back the next morning with a glow that he couldn't question. If nothing else, he didn't want to know what it was from. . . He had a feeling that it had nothing to do with helping the guy study for any exams. (Unless they happened to be on human anatomy.)
Misty kept her promise to May and Brock to not miss anymore of their meetings, but now her conversations with them all had been recessed to the same things she'd been saying for months, minus the intelligence of a twenty-four year old womans' calibur.
Ash didn't feel like banging his head against the hardest thing he could find was the right way to go this time, and he didn't think it would have any effect. He noticed his other friends' odd expressions as they stared him down out of the corners of their eyes, probably asking themselves the prayers he must have been chanting under his breath to maintain his saintlyhood.
Life at home seemed easier to handle, though. Ash and Misty were on the same footing again but that didn't mean they were around each other anymore than they had been before. Misty was busy trying to make up for not having a job just yet by accepting three or so interviews a week (depending on the availability on the companies parts), completing the chores that Ash couldn't be bothered with in between his work (not to mention he just didn't like them), the grocery shopping - only after a list was made and Ash had placed little stars next to the necessities. She also kept herself pampered in case she ran into Derek while she was out and - for whatever reason Ash couldn't understand - even when she was simply lounging or working around the house. Apparently she thought that her boyfriend would be able to hear it in her voice just how dirty or dusty she was if he happened to call.
Nevertheless, Ash found it easy to cope; or, at least it was bearable. He felt less than happy when he ended up seeing her sneaking out of the house looking picture perfect, but he knew it would be worse if his best friend knew he was dealing with these feelings in the sense that it would make everything that much more awkward. Because he didn't like the thought of that, he found himself picking up more free-lance jobs and losing more sleep. Oh, well; sleep was for people with no lives or expectations anyway.
It was early evening time when he just so happened to be coming back from one of those new jobs and he ran into Misty at the foyer. She was slipping on her Autumn jacket, but she looked eagerly up at Ash as he entered and stared at her.
"So, what do ya think? How do I look?" She asked, holding the buttons apart so that he could see the dress underneath. I was a cloth material, skin-tight, white with bright blue seams of crossing straps along her shoulders. It slipped down her breasts and stomach, waist and thighs in the most delicate way a dress could.
Ash stared. He felt his mouth opening but the action was something that took place before he could mentally establish he was supposed to actually say something, so he just gawked a few times before closing it again. All he could think was that, no matter how great this Derek Martin guy was, the effort Misty was putting into herself and her relationship with him was a waste. Surely he - Ash - would be far better suited for it? Hadn't Misty ever thought of how this whole situation would make him feel as a man?
. . . Of course not, because he wasn't really a man to her; just the best friend that was always there to make her day a little better, or worse, or. . . just exciting in some form.
"That means it's good, right? Good enough?" And without waiting for an answer, she began buttoning up her coat, sighing. Maybe she didn't think his opinion would mean much. Maybe she'd pulled that act a few seconds ago just to show off and make him feel miserable. Maybe Ash was just really, really tired now from all the work he'd been doing to keep himself busy and it was all finally catching up with him. No matter what the real reason for it was, though, Misty didn't wait for an answer. "Well, I hope so anyway. Derek and I are going out again tonight. You realize it's been almost five months since we first started dating each other?" She ended in a squeal, the only thing keeping her from literally jumping up in the air being the heels that she would surely slip on if she tried.
"Oh, really?" Five months. Five months since he'd told her he wanted her to stay there in his house with him - even if not in so many words - and five months since that lonely feeling he'd always felt when entering the old Ketchum home had started to disperse; slowly but surely. Three months since Misty had begun pulling herself away from him physically while Ash could only feel like his heart was being dragged along in the dirt of her wake. "Is this an anniversary of some weird, girlish sort, then?" He joked, and she laughed, sticking her tongue out at him.
"Yeah, right; I wish! Oh, but I have other good news!" Misty turned and walked as fast as she could while maintaining her grace, and Ash stood where he was, not sure if that meant he was supposed to follow after her. "I think I found something really good!" She shouted from the dining room, and his brow furrowed in confusion. She must have thought that he automatically knew what she meant, though, because she didn't elaborate.
"It's closeby and pays well, and it's in a very familiar environment!" She laughed again in a truimphant way as she reentered the area beside the front door, her left hand holding her purse to her shoulder and her right grasping a newspaper that had not been there before, he knew. Oh, she must have meant a job opportunity.
Misty grinned widely, stepping up in front of him and flipping through a few pages to find the right ad circled in red ink, but the next thing both of them knew, there was a horn sounding and she lost perspective.
"Ah! It's him, right on time!" She giggled flirtatiously and curled the ad back up in her hands before stuffing it into her bag. "I'd leave it here, but I wanted it to be a sort of surprise. It's kinda cool to think I could be working there of all places! Either way, I've set up an interview for the end of the week, and maybe when I get back tonight, I'll give you a couple clues so you can try and guess where it is!" She winked at him and breathed deeply after saying all of this in one breath, almost leaping at the door in her haste to throw it open again.
This was just in time for a dark-haired man to stand there, almost going rigid at the sudden action taking place from inside the home. It was Derek, and he smiled kindly at Ash as Misty walked out with him, both of them heading towards the car he owned.
"Ash, I'll see ya later! We're going out to eat at that Italian place downtown in the Square! I'm thinking I'll be back around eight, okay? So be expecting me! Then I can tell ya the news!" She stated in the most pleased way she could muster, Derek opened the passenger-side door for her to get in, closed it behind her, and she and Ash exchanged waves of farewell from where they held their positions.
He watched the two drive off before turning his back on the front yard, overenthusiastically slamming the door shut behind him. Okay, he may have been lying before; he might have been slightly resentful towards Derek - or even the fact that Misty's life was going so well with a guy who wasn't him in general. She acted like she didn't know, but it looked as though things were going really well for her. It was good in a way that said she might just be replacing him with this guy. She might just be moving out with this guy. She might just be falling in love with this guy.
Throwing the duffel bag of tools he always carried around with him for work onto the dining room table, he turned back the way he'd come and made sure he had his keys before walking back out. It'd been awhile since he'd let Pikachu come him, and even longer since the two had shared some valuable best-buddies time together.
The walk to the Oak Preserve was not long, probably close to ten or fifteen minutes. Still, had it been much colder, he might have chosen to leave the visit until some later date, possibly sometime when the temperature didn't include winter-weather-warnings.
He rung the doorbell and waited for Tracey to buzz him in. They greeted each other with familiarity and smiles that only age-old friends can honestly share with one another and Ash found himself glancing side to side at the lobby of the lab.
"So. . . where's the Professor?" He asked, unsure if he really wanted to know the answer.
"He had no appointments or interviews scheduled, and his experiments and things were caught up, so he decided to take a personal day. He doesn't get many of them now since I've become his part-time assistant. I'm working on my next book, you know?" Tracey said, sighing with an extra ounce of regret. Ash nodded and mentally wished his stepfather well. He didn't dare think farther into the matter than that, though, because thinking more on that man's free day meant thinking on what he was doing during this extra time. . . and if that extra time included his mom. . .
UGH. No. . . !
"I was even thinking of quitting, actually. . ." Tracey said under his breath, looking at Ash from the corner of his eye as though waiting to hear the younger man's opinion on such a thought.
". . . Really? Why would you do that?" Before Tracey could answer, though, Ash automatically responded, "For your books, right? Well. . . I mean, I wouldn't like the thought of the Professor having to devote even more of his years to the profession. . . but I can see why you'd wanna go and really begin to focus on your own dreams. . ."
Tracey smiled. Maybe someone saying that he wasn't doing the wrong thing was exactly what he needed to hear. Ash supposed that Misty couldn't have been the only person in the world hoping to have her options backed up by someone else she depended on.
"It's a shame about your dreams, though. . ." Tracey cleared his throat and Ash's eyes snapped back open. He didn't want to look up at the older gentleman and the Pokemon Watcher seemed to realize such a thing because he immediately withdrew the comment. "Uh, sorry. . . It just slipped. Er, anyway, you wanted to see Pikachu, right?"
The two men walked to the back of the lobby, starting on the narrow, circular staircase leading to the second, third, and fourth floors. They passed the doors leading to chemistry and biology labs and ignored the door labeled with Starter Pokemon names and options, finding themselves on the third floor and facing the Nursary.
"Pikachu sure gets a lot of experience in parenthood while she's here," Tracey joked, cautiously opening the door to refrain from spooking the young monsters. "It must have been all of that training with Togepi, though, that set her up for this. Now I'm just beginning to think her mothering instinct is kicking in."
The two entered and edged around the many small beds, some of which held eggs and others that held newborns. Some of the Pokemon slept together innocently, and others were still up and playing around, grabbing one anothers' tails or else shooting out sparks of fire or lightning or jets of water, all of which entered the air only about four inches before them.
"Er, aren't you worried that they'll catch the place on fire?" Ash asked, making sure to steer clear of even the slightest flame that could make his coat burst into flames.
"Ash, this is a professional establishment. We're sure to include non-flammable materials with the stable environment we secure for children. I thought that would have been obvious?" Tracey quirked an eyebrow and Ash ignored the underlying tone of distaste as the two of them finally found the particular basket they'd been looking for.
"Oh, no. . . Will I be able to get her out?" The raven-haired young man placed a hand awkwardly behind his neck. They stared down at the fluffy basket and sweatdropped at the acknowledgement that Pikachu was barely able to move while laying there, let alone escape the four or so child-like Pokemon who had grabbed a fierce hold of her tail or legs or ears in order to make sure she couldn't escape them.
Pikachu, too, seemed to be snoozing peacefully, but she was a very light sleeper and - at the very familiar sound of her Master's voice - her eyes eased open and she perked her head up.
"Pika. . . ? Pikapi!" She exclaimed, forgetting momentarily that she was being almost forcibly held down and leaping up with all of the strength of her hind legs.
The Azuril, Pichu, Torchic, and Igglybuff that had been holding so dearly onto her fell back and rolled onto their bottoms, beginning to break out into tears at the loss of their comfort-pillow.
"Ah, oh no!" Tracey said, leaping forward and picking up two of them, rocking them in his arms and humming softly. The sound was enough to ease them into quiet, and Ash followed suit, grabbing up the other two so that their cries wouldn't wake the others up again, shaking them around softly with an awkward grip.
It wasn't long until the quiet was restored. Ash signed out on a sheet by the front door and wished his friend a good night before taking Pikachu up onto his shoulder and beginning the trek back towards his house.
He entered the kitchen foyer area and allowed his Pokemon to jump from his arms onto the dining room table, and then hurriedly onto the floor. It must have been a girl-thing, even among Pokemon, that said that animals weren't supposed to be up on the tables or countertops.
Ash turned and took a moment to find the time glowing digitally on his microwave, locking the two locks on the door he'd entered from.
"So, Pikachu, it's six-thirty. It looks like it's just us for tonight, until Misty gets back, anyway." He and his buddy looked up at each other and he continued to ask, "Hm, what should we do? Other than pig out like guys do when they're on their own. . ." Pikachu glared threateningly up at him and growled, her cheeks sparking, "I'm kidding, okay? Man, your sense of humor needs to be more asexual, ya know?"
"Pika. Pi chu pikachu."
"I'm not kidding; how hard is it to think like me? You know, if the topic were how much ketchup you'd be guzzling down, there wouldn't even be any argument."
"Pi. . . ka! Chu chu ka pika?" She asked, turning her back on him and entering the living room, hopping up onto the couch and waving her tail at him almost commanding.
"Huh? You really want it now, huh? Well, lucky for you Misty figured you'd be by. When she did the shopping this week, she bought the industrial-size eighty ounce bottle." And he went to the fridge to retrieve it.
By the time he'd found his spot besides his buddy on the couch, she had already flipped the television channels to find something she liked, stopping on a Spanish soap opera.
". . . Y - you're kidding, right? This isn't only chic-flic-ish, it's Spanish chic-flic-ish!" He slapped a hand to his forehead and tried to grab the remote from her, but she fought back with a claw and a thundrous threat (literally), so he withdrew his hand and sighed dejectedly, until. . .
"Hey, Pikachu, I'll trade you the remote for. . . for this ketchup? They're both mine, bought with my money, so it should be an entirely fair trade on your part!"
Pikachu still didn't like the sound of that, though, so she sat back on her hind-legs and reared her temper to jump him and grab her precious ketchup for herself.
Needless to say, Ash learned a couple very valuable lessons that night, but he didn't dwell on the pain he felt while learning those. On the other hand, he also realized that even by replacing Misty's almost nonexistent presence with that of his favorite Poke-friend, that weird empty feeling still existed, and it only seemed to spread farther the more he sat there and glanced almost longingly towards the clock on the wall above the archway leading to the kitchen.
Pikachu was on her fourth Spanish soap opera and was so drunk on her favorite food that she was trying to quote the lines of the overly-dramatic characters in the show. Ash was drumming the fingers on his right hand against the armrest of the couch and steadily gazing at the clock.
It read 8:01pm.
A certain, almost hopeful, part of him thought immediately that something was wrong. Why, he wasn't sure. Misty had never specified that she'd be back by eight, only that that was the approximate timeframe. Even so, if that date had gone well-enough, he knew not to expect her back at all, but. . . but she would still call if something like that happened, right? She was never this irresponsible; especially when she, herself, offered a curfew.
Still, Ash didn't panic just yet. If nothing else, he was only hoping she'd walk in, pissed off but otherwise fine, and she'd walk up to him and say that she'd punched the shit out of her date and that he was an ass and that that obvious fact had suddenly hit her and she'd learned to deal with it. Even so, the thought of that scenerio running around in his head was even more of a hint that he was a little out of it.
8:11pm.
Still nothing to worry about, honestly. She was running a bit late. There was probably some traffic on the road, or she'd gotten caught up in the ladies room after the meal, primping herself as much as possible to make sure that the goodnight phase went just as well as the supper one.
8:23pm.
. . . God, that must have been some heavy-assed traffic they were driving through. . .
8:24pm.
Oh, c'mon! She was the one who said she'd be back around that certain time! There was definitely reason to worry, now! No calls, no messages, no news at all that said there was an explanation for her being almost a half-an-hour late. . . !
8:26pm.
That's it, he took it back. He must have been out of his mind telling her she was an uber-responsible person despite her sisters attempts to make her think otherwise. Unbelievable, he made one compliment and it must have gone straight to her head! Why else wouldn't she take the right road and at least call if she was going to be getting her brains fucked out by that stupid, dumb-assed, son of a. . .
"Ring ring ring! Phonecall! Phonecall! Ring ring ring! Phonecall! Phonecall!"
Ash jumped, hurriedly reaching his feet and almost bullrushing the phone, thinking it must have been her calling to scream at him because she could feel his negative vibes from all the way across town.
No such luck.
"Hello? Er, Ketchum and Waterflower residence."
"Yeah, Ash; I would hope this is your number, considering I've been calling it almost constantly for the past eight years." Brock's voice replied jokingly from the other line and Ash sighed disappointedly. Maybe he shouldn't have hoped so much that it would be her calling the curse him out. . .
"Oh, hey Brock. . . To what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked despondently, his head facing the keyboard of the phone, not even thinking of turning the monitor on in order to see his friend.
"Oh, nothing really. It was weird, though; here I was, sitting in my shop after hours, restocking and taking inventory, and then I got this sudden chill, and something was yelling at me to call you. But you sound miserable so maybe it wasn't just a feeling. . . What's wrong?"
"N - nothing!" The raven-haired young man tried to avoid the topic of his best friend who had had an obvious -thing!- for and how she was currently out with a guy whose head he'd like to rip off, but apparently Brock's ESP didn't stop at only the feelings of call-making.
"You've gotta be the worst liar I've ever met! I'm not even looking at you and I can tell you're about ready to punch a hole in your wall. And you'd better not because I'm not coming over to plaster it up."
"That's fine. If I do, I can just take care of it on my own, or don't you remember the work I do?" Ash asked, but it only caused his older friend to laugh truimphantly.
"Hah hah! I knew it! Now tell me why you'd want to punch a hole in the wall and plaster it up. . . ?" He eased briskly into the topic in a way that said he had almost completely mastered weazling answers out of companions.
". . . It's no one's business except mine. And Misty's. And. . . maybe her. . . boyfriend. . ."
"What's the matter? Did he threaten you?"
"No. . ."
"Did he threaten your Pokemon?"
"No."
"Did he threaten Misty?"
"No, and he'd better not! Ever! I'll kill the bastard if he does!" Ash exclaimed, turning red afterwards. There was no way that Brock wouldn't know by now. . .
"Wow, points for lack of subtlety." The older man noted in a guru-like tone of voice. "Do you have any other secrets you'd like to spill? 'Cause if none of that has happened, that still leaves you upset without a cause. So what is it?"
"I - it's not a secret, okay? I'm just a little freaked out. Misty said she'd be back around 8:00pm and it's. . ." Ash took a moment to glance up at the clock a good few meters above him but Brock beat him to it.
". . . It's only 8:34pm. . ." He stated in a way that said he couldn't believe what he - himself - was saying, "God, what's your malfunction? The girls' only been gone a few minutes longer than necessary, and so what if she ran over the timeframe she gave you? She's twenty-four years old, isn't she? She only gave you that time for your benefit, I'm thinking, so you've got no reason to be tanking on her for running late!"
"I - I know that, and I've kept telling myself that for the past twenty minutes or so, but you haven't lived with her like I have; Misty's a punctual freak! She's not the type to run almost an hour later than she planned - an hour later than she told someone who expected her by a certain time - and not call that person to let them know! A - and I know it's not my business, but you're right. . . It was for my benefit, I'm sure. . . so is this for me, too? This bad timing? Because I'm not sure how to react to it."
"Well, I can't tell you. Do you really think her punctuality is important to her? That, because she's running so late, there must really been a problem? Or are you just hoping for one? Because it sounds to my like you're looking for any excuse in the world that will allow you to punch the crap and spine out of this guy she's been dating. . ."
"Well. . . I mean, there's. . ."
"It's not that hard to answer the question. Do you think there's really a problem here, Ash? Or are you just being an idiot, jealous over something you can't help or control?" It was at this point that the professional breeder took a moment to break out into a light fit of laughter, "Hah! I - I just realized. . . Hah, Ash, you're so slow on the uptake!"
"W - what? That's what Misty said awhile ago. . ." He stated, thinking back on it but not much farther than to simply scratch the surface of the memory. "Still. . . if I were to be honest here and state my utmost confident of opinions, then I'd say. . . I really do think there's a problem. I know Misty, despite the few years we were separated from each other for. You can't learn to know someone much better than what you figure about them after living in the same house as that person for half a year. She'd have called by now, even if only to tell me that she's not coming home, or that she's sorry and running late. . . but she hasn't yet."
"Ash, it's 8:42pm." Brock said and Ash almost felt the need to look at his friend, unsure of the tone he was using in reminding him of the time.
"Yeah, so?"
"So. . . if you think there's a problem, then what are you still doing home?"
Ash hung up the phone without saying goodbye, wishing Pikachu well as he threw his coat back on and grabbing his keys from the kitchen table, running out the door. He didn't need telling twice, or reminding, or scolding on the matter anymore.
Misty had told him more than once that her dating anybody was her business. If it didn't actually interfere with his life, he had no reason to oppose her in her decision-making. But she had offered the information to him that night, and practically suggested that he wait up for her so that she could tell him of the news she'd been hoping to mention before leaving for her date. It was even more of a reason to think that something was wrong. . . She'd just been so excited. . . What had caused her to forget about that?
At least she'd mentioned the place she was going to eat with Derek, and he figured, like any other genius detective, that the last place he knew of her to be would be the first place to start.
He didn't think much more on the subject, and definitely not enough so that he thought about finding some form of transportation in order to reach his destination faster. It was the furthest thing from his mind, honestly, along with the people he passed by, the car that almost ran him down at a certain intersection when he refused to acknowledge the light changing.
It took him almost twenty-two minutes to reach the district downtown, on the edge of Pallet and leading into the short woods leading to Viridian, where Misty said she'd be. And every second of those he worried, worried in a way that he shouldn't have, couldn't have, had he really been just a friend of hers – a friend she'd lost contact with for almost five years. His eyes were suddenly tearing the ground in front and around him apart in search for familiar clothes, familiar hair, a familiar face or voice. He might have even seen someone else he knew, but he was so focused on finding Misty and making sure she was okay that he didn't really notice.
He was soon approaching the Italian restaurant Misty had mentioned, and was sooner wondering who he should talk to, if he'd be able to get anyone's attention. What would he say? That he happened to be looking for someone who'd been dining there that evening and who'd run about an hour later in returning home than she'd mentioned to him previously? Let alone the fact that this woman was twenty-four years old. . . Ash didn't want to be laughed out of the place. . .
Luckily, it didn't come to that. He hadn't noticed until he was standing right in front her, staring down at the top of her head that Misty was right in front of him.
She was crying her eyes out. She was crying her eyes out and hadn't seemed to notice him standing in front of her, and she wasn't really moving other than that. Ash was sure other people had passed her by, whether on the street or simply the customers coming and going from the restaurant. . . Hadn't anyone else supposed that she might need some help? Did they think she was simply the type to want the extra attention gained by sitting outside a public domain and losing all sense of reality like she was?
He finally decided to sit down beside her and, though he wasn't sure or not if it was the right thing to do, he immediately put an arm around her shoulder. It wasn't Summer, after all, and she was in such distress that she hadn't even put her coat back on.
She must have realized someone was there; at least, she wasn't prone to jumping at the feeling of a sudden touch.
"What are you doing here?" She asked. She must have also guessed it was him.
"You didn't come home on time, so Brock and I agreed I should follow after you and make sure you were okay."
She didn't ask anymore about Brock's involvement, rather liking the thought of dissolving more into her tears. It lasted like that for awhile, too. Ash didn't say anything more to her until she had eventually run out of cries. He felt awful, too, because just like the last time, she seemed to glow so much now, in a way that normal people didn't. He couldn't quite grasp how he was able to love her more when she couldn't even be bothered with talking to him at a time where he felt like if he didn't know what had made her so upset, he might just detonate.
". . . It's over."
"Huh?"
"You wanna know what's wrong, right? It's over. Derek brought me out to this place specifically to break it off with me tonight."
". . . Oh."
She sniffled a bit more and finally seemed to realize that, in the heat of her tears and his support, she'd somehow found her face pressed hard against his chest. It was uncomfortable, but it was still something she could bare to live with.
"Are you happy now? You didn't like him anyway, did you?"
"I. . ." He didn't feel like lying to her at this point was a good idea. "I'm ecstatic. But not for the idiotic reasons you might think."
"Oh, and what are those reasons, then?" She barked, suddenly looking angry.
"I. . . can't tell you. It wouldn't make the situation better right now if I did," he cleared his throat and Misty stared him down hard for a few seconds before finally sighing in despondence, "So. . . he just left you here, though?"
"No, he offered to take me home, and he offered to still be friends, too. But I didn't want that, either of them. I can't stand the thought of it, after all we'd been through together. We were dating for so long, I couldn't see him as anything more or less than that one person I could almost think of spending the rest of my life wi—"
"—No, don't say that. Please?" Ash asked, and she glared at him again in confusion. "Well, you'd be worse off if you couldn't learn to stop thinking that way, wouldn't you? And. . . if only for my benefit, just. . . don't bring him up with that title. If you wanna hear my opinion, he never would have deserved it."
"Derek Martin was a good guy! He was what I've been looking for for years! And I thought I'd finally grabbed it, and I couldn't see how it could end badly because the only reason it seemed to in Cerulean was 'cause I didn't have all that extra time for a relationship but. . . I guess I can't expect anything that great to happen to me, and to pan out, too."
"W – well, sure, if you think that he's the only good thing you could expect anyway. . . !" Ash stated with an edge to the tone. He was suddenly very aggravated.
"I don't want to talk about it anymore. I. . . let's go home."
"No, no! You. . . you're not thinking right because you're upset about it all now, and you're acting like you'd never be able to move on without him, but he's just a guy, and you've only known him for half a year! I mean, look at us; you've known me since we were kids and you seemed to be living fine during those few years I wasn't around. . . ! How can he be that much more important to you, more important than what we've got?" The raven-haired young man yelled, jumping to his feet.
Misty followed suit but perhaps she was too tired to shout back, because she spoke in barely more than a mutter.
"Just because I don't talk about it with you doesn't mean I wasn't hurt or upset or angry or afraid after all the time we spent apart. I worried over if you didn't care for me anymore, and I wondered almost constantly about May and Drew, and how Brock's business was going. I thought even more – though – about how you would be doing at home, alone, because your mom had moved out and you'd stopped training, so your Pokemon were living up at the Oak Preserve. . . I could never just stop thinking about you, Ash; you were always on my mind.
"And I'm sorry that you didn't try to think about it differently, like I've been thinking about it for so long." She threw her coat over her shoulders and was already on the move. "Now can we go? I'm cold and exhausted, and I need to go to bed before I start to. . ." And as though it were on queue, her crying started up again, but now it seemed even quieter than before. ". . . Why. . . ? I'm always fucking up, aren't I. . . ? If I – if I were May, or – or even your mom. . . ! Or Simone. . . I'd have better luck than I do now – probably twice as much so! When will I learn to accept my limitations? Things will always go wrong for me, no matter where I'm living or what I'm doing for myself. . . And, to think, for awhile I was blaming these things on my sisters. . ."
". . . Misty. . ." He said softly, not sure if there was anything he really wanted to say or not. Either way, she interrupted him before he got the chance.
"Let's just go home. . ."
The walk back to Ash's house was slow but made in solid silence. The two were more careful when crossing the streets this time, and Ash refused to look at Misty anymore than necessary. For obvious reasons, every time he did, he was reminded of what she'd said that night, and that only made her see red. Well, actually, it was more red-orange-yellow-black. . . It never really stuck to one color – one form of anger.
They walked swiftly and stealthily inside and Pikachu turned to face them suddenly with her ears twitching from the sounds they made as the walked into the living room. Misty threw her things down onto the couch too, and kicked at the floor before decidedly being too lazy to carry everything up the stairs with her. Ash understood and turned to his buddy.
"Pikachu, why don't you go up to bed with her tonight? She might need you to hold onto." He smiled down at her and the small electric rodent nodded, already halfway off the sofa and rampaging up the stairs two at a time.
Misty didn't bother to wash her face or remove her clothes. What was the point? So she fell torso-first against her small bed, sighing into the pillow she collapsed against and feeling the sudden but not fearful weight of Pikachu as she joined her there.
The redhead didn't even notice Ash standing right outside her door, waiting for her to fall asleep. And when she finally was (almost an hour later), he made slow progress in alleviating his anger by entering her room and advancing towards the datebook laying open on her vanity. He flipped to the back where the address section was and looked up the name and number he needed before running out of the room, down the stairs, and into the brisk night air again.
Derek lived much closer than he would have thought, considering where the guy went to school, and Ash was there in about ten minutes. The apartment building stood tall in front of him and he was pleased in noting he didn't need to be buzzed in after hours, like some other places. As sneaky as was possible for him, he dashed up the front stairs and into the building, jumping up to the second floor and standing in front of the guy's door for two minutes before making his move.
He really was going to do this, he decided with a faint nod, taking a deep, almost cleansing breath before knocking. That didn't last long though before he lost any slight ounce of patience he had, beginning to pound, then bang, and then kick.
"Hold on; I'm coming, I'm coming already!" Came a voice from beyond the door, and in good time, too. Any longer and Ash was sure he'd be talking to the neighbors about his poor social skills. "Jesus, can't it wait until tomorrow? It's after ten," was heard as the door flew open, and Derek and Ash stared at each other for a few seconds before one pair of eyes widened in honest recognition and a certain other persons' fist flung forward, only to come into contact with the wood of the door. Derek had tried to shut the door in his face, and the action had been cut off halfway.
"Shit. . ." The raven-haired ex-trainer muttered before shoving his way inside and ignoring the fact that Derek was fiercely trying to push him back out. "You son of a bitch! Look what you did to my hand!" He yelled, rampaging forward.
"What the hell are you talking about? Look what you almost did to my face!" The other man yelled back, stepping back towards the hall connected between his kitchen and living room, and ignoring it.
It was all Ash could do not to smash Derek's head against the plaster of the wall. He did manage, though, for at least a few more seconds. To help contain his fury, he wrung out his right hand behind his back, exciting the injury in his knuckles.
"I don't give a damn! Do you have any idea what she was looking forward to with you? How often she told me about wanting to see you and dating you and. . . ! You don't deserve to hear all of that, though, after what you did! You know, she was crying all fucking night!" He stated in disregard for the man's future on this realm. He stomped even further towards him and, maybe knowing there was no means of escape but still wanting to put the pain on hold anyway, Derek edged his way down the hall until he had his back jammed up against the door of his bedroom. And, despite the pain, Ash persevered and jumped Misty's new ex, sending him against the bedroom door, which happened to be slightly ajar. They both fell through and Ash landed on top of Derek, throwing his second punch to the guy's face, exactly where he'd been planning the first one to go.
"I'm sorry, too, okay? I liked her, but I had some other things to deal with and I couldn't keep seeing her! How is that my fault?" He attempted to say, the sentences spread into fragments as Ash implanted another fist in him.
"How'd you break it to her, though? You made it sound like it was her doing that made you need to end it with her! She wanted someone like you, got someone like you, and even that wasn't enough for you to realize what you had with her. . . !"
And Ash was suddenly disgusted with this man, and with himself, and he couldn't afford to touch him anymore, so he steadily rose to his feet and stepped back. He was proud of himself even more when he looked at Derek's face, proud of the damage he'd done despite the growing pain in his right hand from when it had been slammed against the door, and when it had repeatedly found its way to Derek's head. He stepped back to observe, saw the opposing force was still conscious, and spit at him.
"If you ever show your face to her again, I'll kill you. You never deserved her attention anyway, and you won't deserve it anymore now, either, even if it's only by making her cry."
And, just like a phantom, Ash was gone.
OoOoO
Notes – Oh my God, I'm done! Wahahah! I was so hoping all Pokeshippers would love the scene where Ash punched Derek out. I couldn't think of a fair explanation as to why he broke up with Misty, though, so I left it open-ended. He could be just an ass, or he could have had a valuable reason that no one cared to hear, or it could have been something in between. (I wanted to go for the something in between because it was realistic for the character I'd created and for Ash and Misty's reactions to it. I couldn't see Misty getting so upset, or Ash finding it in himself to beat the shit of the guy, when all he was doing was making sure his dad was okay after. . . say. . . a stroke. It would just be wrong, even if it would still hurt to know it was over, right?)
Wow, and this thing is almost eleven-thousand words! It's like Illicit Saints all over again! Hah! I want to say so much else, but I'm too excited in wait of posting this chapter up. So, despite the time crunching needed for me to run to my class right now, complete my homework, keep going to my other classes, deal with life, and the move I made last month in general, I'm gonna post this now. . . I might even start on the next chapter by the end of the night, but that's still in process, if you know what I mean.
Oh, PS, the last scene of this chapter was edited the morning after postage, and. . . I wanted to say I got a new job! Or, well, it's more like I got my old job back, but still. And I won't be paid as much, but I really only needed someplace to go and earn cash to pay my phone bill. I've been dipping into my savings account recently. . .
The last thing is the spoiler, right? Right!
Spoiler – Ash returns home without Misty's knowledge of the incident taking place at all, but next morning finds it that much harder by the fact that he can barely move his hand due to the swelling. If Misty finally figures out why he's constantly keeping it hidden away from her, what will she say? Not to mention that, later, in the process of some personal time, Misty gets a call on her cell phone from May, who says that Drew's kicked her out!
