The Strangest Kind of Love

by Warlordess

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.

10. Makes You the Same as Always

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.

OoOoO

Pokemon - "The Strangest Kind of Love"

Chapter Ten - "Makes You the Same as Always"

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 February 14, 2008.

OoOoO

It was a bad idea. Ash didn't really think so, but he knew Misty would. And after she had finished nailing that reality into his head, she would continue to state why; Derek had been a good guy, he had had a reason and - though it had still hurt - she had been able to live with it. She would probably start crying, too, but Ash would be all the more convinced by her tears that he'd done the right thing. He would admit to himself (and only himself) that he was not the type of person to think things completely through. He'd never grown into that person, and he'd never grown out of the person he was - the off-beat type who would rather act first, and irrationally, and think back on the subject later.

Derek Martin sounded like a good person, even to him. Why had he gone so berserk, then? Why had he entered Misty's room without her permission and while she was sleeping as soundly as she could despite her distress over the situation just to find out the man's address?

Because Misty wouldn't have let him do what he'd been planning if she'd known; she would have probably hit him over the head with a frying pan in order to prevent him from even going out and wandering the streets with the thoughts he'd had going through his mind, each flying around a mile a minute.

What anger had Ash really felt he needed to take out on that guy?

The anger that said he'd upset Misty, made her cry, made her feel unlovable, untouchable, unnecessary. She had deserved it less than he had deserved to get his face beaten in. Ash would think back on it and realize that the time he'd fallen for Misty - or at least known of it - had been the time he'd seen her sitting there on his couch and crying her eyes out, unsure of what to do about her sisters harassment, threatening him with bodily harm to get him to stop staring, and holding a pillow to her own face to make sure he wouldn't see.

He had felt a bit guilty, though, when he'd finished with Mr. Derek Martin. Maybe he had had his reasons, maybe they had been very good, too; his father might have fallen ill, he may have turned victim to the stress and overload of twice as many courses at college as were recommended, or maybe he could have felt he wasn't giving Misty what she needed so he'd broken up with her for her sake. But Derek Martin seemed to misunderstand if that was the case. Misty had still been content with what she'd had with him, and she would have understood about seeing him less if he gave a reason. She said she respected someone who was like him, someone who knew they had a lot on their plate and wanted to be sure of what they could handle. Even so, no excuse was good enough for Ash in that moment he realized he hated Misty in tears, even though she still looked so beautiful. Nothing made him think about his actions, made him consider Derek's side, because Misty was miserable and upset and she had cared for a person - yet one more of so many - who had left her grieving for something she thought had been going so well.

So the amount of guilt and disgust Ash may have been feeling afterwards was clouded by the reasoning for his judgment. It was clouded, too, by the wrath he might be facing, especially when there was such. . . obvious. . . evidence towards his having committed the crime.

He was home and asleep after his meeting with Derek by around two in the morning. He was out cold almost immediately. . . but it didn't seem to last very long. Yes, he'd woken up to the sun shining in his eyes (annoyingly, he would add) but he couldn't figure out what had awakened him, and there was definitely something.

He turned over onto his stomach and his hand seemed to jump and throb and it hit him.

Holy shit, that hurt. . . !

He hurled himself out of bed and hit the floor from the hurry to remove that hand from under his chest and his body weight. When he took a moment to gather himself and blinked the sleep from his eyes, he also took the moment to look at the damage from the night before.

"Oh, man. . ." He groaned, noticing the familiar purple-red look of two of his knuckles. They weren't exactly the strongest bones of his body, and he realized quite suddenly that he was unable to fully bend his fingers. (Not that he could bend them at all without feeling something unpleasant.) They were worse than jammed - they were broken. The skin had ripped, too, and he knew for sure that, even if they weren't still bleeding, it would be no surprise to find some reddish hues igniting random areas of his sheets.

"A - Ash, are ya okay. . . ?" Came a voice from the other side of his door, and he almost hit the ceiling from the jump he made. Misty. "I heard this huge thump and I was worried. . . Is something wrong?"

"Uh. . . ah, yeah! I'm good, don't worry about me, Myst! Why don't you go get something warm to drink, or take a shower? You. . . might like that, it could make you feel better." Not to mention he could use that time when she was incapacitated to find some way to wrap and hide his hand from her. . .

"You don't have to tell me twice. . ." She grumbled and he almost laughed, "But. . . ! But Pikachu wants in. I guess she spent enough time comforting me last night, or maybe she wants to talk to you about it. . . or something."

"Y - yeah, okay!" And he reached his feet in a flurry and rushed to his door, pulling it open barely half a foot, just the size for his buddy to try squeezing through.

"Wow, do you have something to hide, or. . . ?" Misty tried asking, almost in the form of a joke, but Ash took her seriously and slammed the door shut again just in time for her to try peeking in. "Look, Ash, despite what you may think, I won't be pissed or upset anymore if you have a girl in there! Or any of those dirty magazines that Brock gave you when you were fourteen! I get it, you're a guy. . . Your sexual orientation doesn't have anything at all to do with me," she called from through the wood and he almost slapped himself in the forehead.

"Misty, it's not that, okay? I - I'm just. . . I sleep in my boxers! Yeah, that's it!"

"And. . . this is supposed to be new to me?" She asked and he actually heard her giggle. Well, it was a start that she found anything laughable. That meant that she wasn't as traumatized by the events from the night before. . . right?

"Just leave me alone, Myst!" He wanted dearly to throw something at her, but knew that his door would probably block the pillow he was eying. Yeah, most likely.

"Fine, fine; I'll just leave you and your manliness alone so that you can do whatever it is you have to do - whether that's masturbation or trying to tame your hair. Neither of them are things I wanna watch you attempt anyway." And he distinctly heard the realistic footfalls of her feet as she walked down the stairs.

He took his time in reaching his feet, seeing as he only had one hand to place on the ground to ease himself up, and then cautiously went to sit on his bed, drawing a deep breath.

Pikachu had run through as fast as she could when she'd had the chance, almost knowing that it was what Ash needed her to do, especially since he'd slammed it closed again and spoken with a high level of discomfort towards his best friend before.

"What should I do, Pikachu?" He asked his friend, and she quirked her head curiously before finally catching sight of the hand he was trying to hide even now and leaping onto the mattress to get a better look.

"Okapi, chu chu pika?" She asked, sniffing at it for a second and trying to lick it the way she'd literally lick her own wounds, but he ripped it away with a hiss.

"Sorry, buddy," he grimaced with a tight smile, "I don't think that will work in this case. But I don't want Misty to see, otherwise she might get ideas. . . and knowing her, those ideas will be right on the mark."

"Chu chu pika?" Pikachu stated with a point of her tail, repeating her question.

"I. . . don't like Misty crying. I hate to watch it and know that someone made her feel that way."

"Pikachu pika chu ka. . ." That translated like something closely related to, "duh!" It probably elaborated a little bit, though.

"Last night I finally did something about it, too."

Pikachu's ears perked as high as they could go and her jaw dropped open, apparently shocked at the news. Ash stared back at her and, almost ashamed, tried even more to hide his hand under the pillow misplaced beside him, but it hurt and so he immediately removed it from that place.

"Chu pikachu, Pikapi?"

"I was thinking that if she really deserved to cry about the loss then he did, too. I felt like a bad friend for not being there sooner even though I knew she needed me, and I feel even worse now because I know she's gonna kill me when she finds out about it. I might have made the wrong choice, I know it, when I went over there and beat the shit out of him without even the slightest knowledge of his explanation. . . but I still think that there was nothing else I could do to make myself feel better about it. I was probably wrong again, wasn't I? I'll never learn though."

"Pikachupi pika kachu." Pikachu stated confidently with a slight admonishing touch to it.

"Thanks for that vote, buddy," Ash said, reaching forward with his hand to scratch her behind the ears, but Pikachu continued before he could and he realized anyway that it almost wasn't worth the pain he'd bear if he tried.

"Pikachupi pika kachu. Pikachupi pika chu ka, pi chu, pikachu, pipi kachu ka!" And she nodded her head as she finished with all of the things she was sure Misty wouldn't mind doing to Ash when she found out about his harsh actions last night.

"Oh, thanks. . . !" He replied with fully - intended sarcasm. The last thing he needed was the shit kicked out of him, certain body parts forcibly removed, or to be maimed in all ways before he could think of anything to defend himself.

He heard humming from under his door, coming from the hallways as Misty (the most likely guess) walked by. There was the sound of a door shutting and she disappeared into the bathroom. Ten seconds later the sound of running water disrupted the quiet of the entire floor.

"Bin-go!" Ash stated, easing his door open slightly and viewing the hallways just in time to see the bathroom door close. He took his chance and ran out into the hall, on his toes and listening for anything that indicated Misty would be joining him before she'd finished showering.

Still, this gave him the time he needed to find something to hide his hand from her. While she had - most unfortunately - taken over the room where the first aid kit was held, she had not yet dominated the linen closet where the ace bandage was kept. So he wouldn't be able to place any ointment over the cuts; it was okay anyway that he could just put something over it so that it would lose its tenderness to the open air and keep itself out of plain sight.

Ash already knew he didn't think things over completely; he had admitted that to himself. . .

. . . But he didn't even begin to think that the wide bandage wrapping up his hand and halfway up his arm would be just as conspicuous as leaving that hand the way it'd been before.

That was until he was suddenly faced with his best friend exiting the bathroom in nothing but a towel - talk about cleavage - and the two of them were staring awkwardly at each other.

"Um, believe me - I have not been standing here, waiting for you to come out of there. Especially not to see what you look like naked. I'm not like that, I swear."

"Well, let's hope you weren't at least wanting me to come out of there as a man. I'd be a little upset if I found out you swung that way." Misty shrugged, suddenly acting as though standing there, dripping and feeling a slightly uncomfortable breeze, was nothing to be bothered by. As though her dearest friend of the longest time staring her up and down was normal, and something she looked forward to on a daily basis.

Personally, it would make Ash feel a little better if that were the case. As of now, he was alone - stranded - in this sea of bittersweet emotion. It was a hard enough conclusion to come to, that he felt feelings beyond friendship for his friend. Apparently, it was too difficult to define what she was to him anymore without growing impatient and uncomfortable. He only wanted to know what she thought. She was obviously perfectly fine around him now, even in current situations that made it hard for him in more than one way. . . But if she thought about it, if she were forced to sit down and do just that - like he'd had to, what decision would she come to?

"Ash," she said quite suddenly, and he almost jumped, though the two of them had been facing each other like that for the past five or so minutes, "It's not for nothing but you're kind of freaking me out staring blankly like that." She gave a laugh that ended in almost a choke and, just as she was turning away to run to her room, she looked back, "By the way, what's with the wrist brace? Have an injury at work or something?"

Perfect! That was a perfect excuse; he could so get away with using that for his own! Or, so Ash thought (it was so ridiculously simple that he couldn't believe he hadn't thought about it himself) until Misty shot it down on her own.

"No, no. . . You haven't had a job since before I left last night, right? And I know you weren't wearing anything on your wrist before I left for. . . that thing I had to go to last night."

Oh. So she was still bothered by it. Of course, how could he think otherwise? And she'd reduced the situation to something referred to as, 'that thing.'

"Um, yeah - I mean, you're right. Actually, it's from. . . uh. . ."

"That's nice, really, but can I go get dressed first? I want to put my hair back before it dries and frizzes out."

"Uh. . . definitely! You go do that, and I. . ." But Misty had already made a mad dash for her bedroom, halfway down the hall. Ash almost laughed. He'd escaped telling her for just a little bit longer, ". . . I'm going to figure out what the fuck I should be doing with myself before you kill me."

It was easier said than done. Pikachu joined her Master on his living room couch and he made a point to ease her tension by massaging her behind her ear with his good hand. The other was mysteriously hidden half behind his back, in a way that he found at least bearable as he tried to think of a solution to everything that would end with all of his bodily organs and functions intact.

Again, to reinforce the former statement, it was easier said than done. Misty was a compassionate person, even towards people she didn't like much. Ash hoped that Derek had now fit himself into that group of people. Even so, if she knew that he'd taken it upon himself to make that guy hurt because he'd made Misty hurt. . . Well, there was the slimmest of chances in his favor that stated Misty might be compassionate, yes, but compassionate towards him rather than the idiot guy she'd been dating, and who'd dumped her shamelessly even though she really cared for him. (It was the way he liked to think it had happened, so simplistic.) But the chances were far greater that, while she may still pity his injury, she'd want only more to add to it.

"You're really freaking me out."

They were sitting at the dining room table now, and Ash admitted that it seemed dream-like, how he'd found himself there. He looked up slowly, as though he was far too tired to lift his head, and stared back at her blankly.

"What are you talking about?"

Apparently Misty took her loss more to heart than Ash himself would have liked. He'd rather think that he could place Misty in a lighted world where painful things bounced off of her and drifted away uselessly, where she couldn't be touched, or impacted with situations and people who could make her angry, make her cry, make her feel the way she does now.

Ash had learned over the course of the few months he and Misty had lived together so far that she was far more involved in her personal appearance than she had been at age twelve. She would wear make-up (enough to make her skin look flawless, but not so much to make anyone who looked think she had fallen into a pile of wheat flour), she wore her hair back in more flattering terms (now that it was halfway down her back, she favored a French braid more than anything), and she actually cared about the things she wore because she knew statements were made between adults based on what you could afford to clothe yourself with.

Today, it just. . . didn't seem to matter. She had showered, yeah, but that was only to make sure that every bit of mascara that had smudged her face the night before was gone. She wore a tee-shirt and shorts, and her hair was still partially wet and laying flat against her back.

Despite that, Ash still thought he would prefer looking at her more than any other woman at the time - even those ones in Playboy.

"I mean, you've been staring at everything and nothing all day, you took Pikachu back to the lab early, and. . . you're eating with your left hand." He dropped the fork he'd been using to pick up a piece of the bell green pepper in the vegetable and beef stir fry out of shock. "What, you thought we would go through a decade of friendship and I wouldn't notice that you were right-handed?"

He knew to a point that right-handed people were more common anyway, that it could have just been a lucky guess. Maybe she was trying to psyche him out enough to make him face reality? But, at the same time, he had to admit that Misty was an attentive person for the most part. It was one of those things that differed between the two because he realized in that moment he hadn't thought of the small things to do with her that may have mattered.

Like the fact that she was left-handed.

"Oh. Uh, no; it didn't cross my mind. Sorry." And he ducked his head down and slurped up the beef and onion he'd pulled onto his fork, avoiding looking at her.

". . . You didn't answer my question."

"Huh? What? Sorry, I missed it."

"No you didn't. You dropped your fork when I asked it. That means the question held some significance for you." She coughed and put her own fork down as though boycotting the continuation of her meal until he answered her honestly.

"Oh, you mean. . . about my hand? Um, it's an old sprain. The pain started coming back last night."

"But you didn't put the bandage on until this morning? I don't buy it. I know you're lazy, and you like to put things on hold, but it had to hurt enough to think about wanting to do something about it, if you felt that kind of thing since last night."

"I. . . dunno, then."

"Let me see it."

"What? Why?"

"Because you're lying to me, I hate that, and apparently I'll have to figure out the truth for myself." And she held out her own palms expectantly, waiting for him to give in.

Which he did, almost immediately. What could he do if she wanted to see it? Fake vomit or something crazy to sidetrack her long enough for him to take that chance he needed to run away? Right. Even if he did decide it was worth it just to live for awhile longer before she slaughtered him in cold blood, it would draw the same conclusion either way.

Better to have it done sooner rather than later.

So he held his right hand forward, a couple fingers bent awkwardly from their stiffness. It hurt like a bitch to move them, after all, so he wasn't going to force it. Misty's brow furrowed as she began unwrapping from across the tabletop, and her eyes widened slowly more and more as the damage was unraveled.

"Ash, what the hell?!" She shrieked, staring at it disgustedly. The pointer and middle fingers were both a dusty violet, extending from the knuckles to the peaks of the nails. That wasn't all, seeing as all four fingers had been ripped of half of the skin or so, and dried blood scabbed along them all. "What did you do, bash it repeatedly against a wall out of complete boredom?" She threw up her hands in way of a defeatist persona, unable to imagine the reason for his condition.

"No, how stupid would that be?"

"Was it a Rock-type Pokemon? Or Steel-type?"

"No!"

"Well, then. . . it must have been some sort of fight." She crossed her arms and stared into his eyes accusingly, already firm in her belief, and he knew he couldn't lie to her so he just stared back.

"It. . . I mean, it kinda. . . I'll admit to being out of hand if you admit he deserved it!"

"What? Who the hell are you talking ab -- Ash, you didn't. You did not find Derek last night and. . ." Her forehead hit the table before he could think to defend himself at all.

"Um, no, no; it wasn't him! I mean, what did you think? What, I brought you home, made sure you were eased into a deep sleep by Pikachu's comfort, and took full advantage of the open access of your room by rooting through your personal things and finding your address book? And then I suppose you think I must have been unable to wait to avenge you, so I ran straight out the front door and downtown without even thinking about the consequences and ransacked his apartment while beating the crap out of him? Hah!" He laughed, but it was uneasy, and Misty's glare was fiercer with every second of his attitude that said they could just blow this off and never talk about it again.

"What were you thinking?" She asked in a surprisingly calm tone, but her eyes still told tales of death.

"I. . . don't know?" He asked, looking in every direction that wasn't the one she was looking back from.

"You could be arrested! Charges made, damage finances filed, felonies placed on your permanent record! And as if Derek wasn't already freaked out enough by me, my stupid as anything best friend had to kick his ass! Ugh!"

"Misty. . . were you thinking he'd take you back once he dealt with whatever it is he had to deal with?"

Misty blinked, and while she still looked furious, she was suddenly red in the face and quite embarrassed. And slowly the visible anger seemed to subside into a soft, longing expression.

"I - I mean, I hoped, yeah. . . but. . . I guess I kind of knew that there was next to no chance of that happening. Right?" Ash looked ready to answer, but she didn't give him the time he needed to do so, reaching her feet and slamming her hands down on the table. "But that doesn't give you any right to do what you did! Why would you go so crazy? You didn't think, right? Like you never do!" She slid back into her chair and placed her face in her hands.

". . . Myst. . . If it makes matters easier, I think he's too terrified to press charges or confront me on any level." Ash leaned forward and whispered as though it were a secret, "He almost pissed his pants last night."

Even if only for a moment, it had the effect on her he'd been hoping for.

"Heh. . ." She gave the slightest giggle but otherwise tried to show she wasn't pleased with what he said to her. She rubbed at her eyes frustratingly while stating in a clear tone, "Shut up, Ash; I'm mad - and I'm mad at you, so don't try and think it's all misdirected anger from what happened last night.

"I just. . . still don't get why you'd do it, though. Did you really hate him so much? He was a good guy, despite the fact that he never told me why he knew it wouldn't work out between the two of us."

He knew she'd think like that. He hated that she did, too, because it made him feel like the bad guy even more.

"I didn't like him; you're right. But I haven't liked him the whole time."

"Ash, you're a good person, and let's face it - the skills you portrayed as a trainer when you were younger were excellent but. . . I refuse to consider the possibility of your being psychic, too. There's no way you could have known this would happen between the two of us." And the statement ended in a sigh of resentment.

"You're on a roll tonight, Myst; right again. I didn't know anything like this would happen. Actually. . . I thought it'd work out with you and him. And I was pissed off.

"I hated that he made you cry and he made you upset and made you think you were unworthy of a relationship, even if it wasn't his intention. But. . ." It was at this point that her curiosity peaked and she looked him in the eyes, one brow quirked.

"But I thought that it was even worse that he made you happy."

Misty didn't know what to say to that. She was confused, angry, upset. Why couldn't Ash stand to see her happy? What about her being content with the way her life was going, on a personal level, had made him feel like adding to the ruin wasn't a bad idea?

She asked him as much and he looked away, red in the face. She was pretty sure she'd been here before, that she'd had this happen to her at least one other time in her life. She had been faced with her sisters' fairytale lives and been played into acting out the role of the least-liked character in those stories. . . and she'd been bitter because of it. It was even worse when she was at work, or out making runs to the post office to mail bills and things. Random people with their lovers and families and a happiness that touched and curled around Misty's own aura in a way that taunted her, saying she could only wish for something like that.

"Ash. . . I'm sorry, I guess."

"Huh?" He snapped back to attention and saw that she was serious, and he almost face-faulted. She thought it had something to do with her personally?

"I mean, I was happy for the longest time, and I didn't even think about how it might have affected you. I didn't think about how you handled being alone most of the time - after all, you always complained about this place being too big for just you and Pikachu's short-term visits. And I didn't think about your possibly being jealous because you didn't have something like that, too. . . Do you think that's why Derek broke up with me, though?" There was a small gasp as the idea hit her fully, "M - maybe he sensed the tension between us more than I did and thought it was for the best! If that's it, then maybe I can still. . . but then again," and she turned and glared at him for the first time in almost twenty minutes. Crap; and he thought he'd escaped that. . .

Still, the fact that she had the completely wrong thought process running through her head made him slap a hand to his (the good one), and he soon after reached his own feet in a near fit.

"I didn't do it because I was jealous of you, Myst! I did it because - if anything - I was jealous of him!"

Misty felt a sirenesque ringing in her ears that she couldn't deny. The way he worded it, it almost sounded like. . . like he had finally learned to reciprocate those feelings her fourteen year old self had had for him.

She felt the almost immediate urge to snort contemptuously. Of course; Ash had matured to that now, had he? It figures that it would be almost ten years too late.

She had outgrown him now.

Right?

Nevertheless, she fell back into her chair from a shock she hoped he didn't notice; but of course he did. She was staring at him as though he had foreign writing smeared in black ink across his forehead. At least that would be funny; this was somehow upsetting and annoying and. . . and endearing and unanticipated and not bad.

"I - I'm sorry, what? I'm - uh. . . I think I misheard." And she pretended to clean out her ears. It was a way out if Ash had ever seen one, but he suddenly didn't want to take it. He could face this; he'd faced worse after all. It only made sense that he would have to tell her sometime anyway, and it was out in the open now. He'd rather discuss everything at once and deal with the awkward surroundings, rather than wait it out and know that things might not get better because of it.

"I was jealous of him, Misty." And he wasn't even using his nickname for her! "He made you smile, made you want to be around him, made you not want to be around me much anymore. It was worse than being replaced. You had something with him that I couldn't stand to view as a third party. I wanted it for myself. It's why I never liked him, why I saw the break up as a chance to be taken. So I found his address and - and I ran to his apartment and. . . I made him pay for everything. Finally."

Misty found it hard - yet not impossible - to look up at her best friend and view the expression on his face. He looked guilty, true, but still valiant. He honestly thought he'd done it right. And even though she could be as upset with him as ever, it wouldn't convince him that what he'd done was wrong. She knew that, and her anger evaporated right there. She knew better than to waste it.

"So. . . what are you saying exactly? Are you, like. . . in love with me or something?" She asked with half a smile, and it seemed she was daring him to answer.

"Wha - I. . . I mean, no! It - I can't be, right? No, I think I'd know if I was!" He stated, but came around to her side of the table anyway, kneeling down in front of her and making sure she was paying attention.

"I'm just. . . infatuated. I guess. I want to be the one to make you cry and smile - but mostly smile, of course." He grinned good-naturedly at her and she found herself red in the face. "And I want to be the one you depend on most, at least for now. Even if May's standing right next to you, too; I want it to be me that you turn to when you need a shoulder to cry on or an ear to give a mouthful.

"I want to know that I won't be able to be mad at other guys for making you laugh irresistibly, for making me seem like less of a best friend and more of a roommate that doesn't really partake in your life. And I want to be mad at only you in a relationship between just the two of us, and you to be mad at me - especially so that we can have the best make-up sex afterwards," Misty was suddenly flustered and Ash waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"And I think the last thing I'd want to be sure of is that. . . I'd know you'd be sure I would never turn my back on you, or hurt you, or anger you intentionally. And I'd do my best not to do it accidentally either because, while I want to live, I also want to be the one person you know who's bound to bring out the best in you."

"Ash. . ."

He was such a stupid, stupid. . . superhero to her anymore; always saving her, always making her feel like her mistakes weren't condemning her. In fact, he made her feel safe and easy-going, and. . . and loved, and all things she shouldn't be acknowledging from a friend. Rather, those feelings were on a level that wasn't meant for a friend.

"Well, did the awkwardness just increase three times over, or is it me?" And he looked up into her eyes and gave a sheepish grin that said she could forget everything he'd just claimed to feel for her if she really wanted to.

"But I owe you an answer, don't I? And you, if you're human in any form, would want one." Misty cleared her throat and looked away from him, embarrassed and scared and uneasy. She didn't want it anymore, not for now anyway. She could live without those miseries she'd grown to know firsthand. She'd come to expect them, and she was so tired of them that she wanted to act like she'd never felt them coming upon her to begin with.

"I'm sorry, Ash; you're my best friend, and I don't want this to happen right now, and not with you in a way that could just be me on the rebound. You deserve more than that.

"Things weren't going well for me before I came to Pallet, and they continued to decline after that, too; all except for my relationship with you. It got better and better and I soon found it something to depend on. If I felt sad, you'd come to rescue me and if I was worried or pissed off, you made everything better. So now, when you want me to make you feel better, too. . . I can't do that to you honestly and completely without making it seem like I'm looking for. . . anything. . . to make it easier on me.

"I care about you too much to do that to you, even if you say now that it's enough."

Ash blinked and, strangely, he wanted to laugh. He should have known this was coming, after all. He'd been there for at least two of Misty's romantic endeavors, and their negative spiral after she had tried so hard to live her new life to the fullest.

"Yeah, yeah; I know that. Hah!" He threw his head back and decided that the underside of the kitchen table was more interesting than anything else. "Why even bother, right? I'm too late for everything, aren't I?"

"But. . ." Either Misty hadn't heard his last statement, or she had felt guilty because of it and wanted to make a difference, ". . . but you do make me happier whenever I feel down so I owe you something for that, and. . . I want to experience something with no strings attached, so. . . I'll kiss you now, if you think I'm worth it."

Ash wanted to feel on higher ground than he was, even after his rejection that wasn't really a rejection, but he knew that he would give anything for this moment to happen and he didn't have the heart to make Misty's last line about herself anymore true in her soul. So he only leaned a little further in and knocked foreheads with her.

Misty's cheeks turned scarlet in response like they would if she were a fourteen year old girl with a crush.

"Of course. Whatever you feel is right for now, go ahead. You know more about this romantic stuff than me anyway."

Plus, it was far harder to deny the fact that he wanted it.

Don't hold your breath, Misty thought as she pulled her face away and lent in a better direction that was inspired by her years of confidence gained by her other relationships.

Ash hoped he wouldn't be accused of expecting too much by pleading for more times like this between them at future intervals. That fearsome electric wash that showered him was addictive, to say the least.

OoO

The group of four sat in the booth that had almost literally become "theirs" in Viridian's bistro, and Misty and Ash continued to glance anxiously at the walls around them as May and Brock gawked.

"So, let me get this straight," Brock coughed and cleared his throat, drawing to the suspense before making his statement, "you guys are dating? Like, as in, sexual tension from decades past has finally come to a close and you're shacking up in one another's bed every other hour depending on if you're in the mood for close quarters or not? You see, May?" He turned to the youngest of the group, "Do you see now what a good fuck does for the system? If I wasn't bound by those stupid rulebooks of my group therapy, I'd be at it twice as much as them."

"Y - yeah, right; as if you could get laid before you were cut off from ogling, Brocko." May huffed and turned away, before asking her own first question, "But, really, it's true? I mean, do you guys know how long we've been waiting for this? It figures that the one time you two are brave enough to confess, it would be alone, in Ash's house, with no supervision or witnesses. . . Hn, what are you two doing in there?"

"Look, look - it's really not how it seems! Derek and I, we didn't end well. Sorry, May, I meant to call you earlier but it was all so sudden and it only happened a couple days ago. Yesterday overwhelmed me, too, so it was the furthest thing from my mind."

Ash glanced at his best friend, saw her expression of fear and nerves, and looked away again. He wasn't bothered by the fact that she was confessing the truth of the matter to their friends, and it wasn't a bother that it hurt him to know that what she said was the truth. He could deal with the fact that her comfort made up for his own masculinity and his own feelings being lost in transition.

What he wanted could be put on hold for now. So he voiced his own concerns on the resolution on the matter, and he voiced them on Misty's behalf.

"We're not together, we're not fucking like rabbits, and we're not exclusive." He made it sound like he didn't mind what they were doing. "We're taking a beneficial continuance in our relationship because. . ." Because it's what Misty wanted and he knew it was the best he could get from her, ". . . because no one else suited us and this is more convenient and. . . stuff."

Misty fidgeted and May looked her up and down from across the table. The redhead seemed a bit high strung in general, but it was to be attributed to her second failed relationship since moving in with Ash, and her longest one in term. May was sure that was it.

"It's going to be weird but. . . Ash and I also thought it would be nice to go out to eat, just the two of us, and have some fun." She smiled now, as though everything was suddenly okay and acceptable.

"Like a date." Brock nodded in affirmation of this conclusion but Ash looked away again.

"That's not right, I don't think, is it, Myst? That does sound a bit too exclusive, but. . . what else is there to call it, right?" He grunted but didn't look displeased by what turn the events had taken.

"I dunno; when this happened, I didn't think about what we'd actually call it." She snorted as though that were obviously the last thing to think about. "We were gonna head out later tonight, after this, because someone was a little short in scheduling time." And she looked to Ash now, who jumped an inch or so at the acknowledgment.

"Don't blame me; I'm the one who has an actual job." And he milked the comment for everything it was worth.

"Hah! You call wandering around town twice or so a week and looking for people in need of maintenance work a job?"

"Who are you kidding? I make money! You know what that is, right? The stuff we would be using to pay for that not-a-date we're going on tonight! But - oops! - I'm the only one of us both that actually earned enough!" He glared now, suddenly taking something she said offensively, "And whether you choose to think about it or not, I do have a list of customers who rely on me above anyone else when it comes to things like this!"

"Yeah, well. . ." And Brock and May tuned them both out from there on in, suddenly curious.

". . . Did they just pull that argument out of their asses?" The brunette haired girl asked as she giggled lightly, the lines under her eyes lessened as she stared.

"It makes sense; after this they'll head home and hit the sack together, taking out their frustrations on each other." Brock crossed his arms and nodded again, very sure of himself, "You know they've been winding down to this conclusion for years.

"By the way, May, are you feeling okay? You look. . . tired. Or something." And he looked genuinely concerned for her, even more so than he looked huntingly towards the waitress in her short skirt who happened to walk by their booth just then.

"Oh, me? Are you kidding? I'm totally okay. Besides, it's nothing I'm one hundred percent comfortable talking to you about, and Misty's been through much worse this week, I think. I don't want to concern anyone, not when at least a few things might be looking up for some people. . ." And she nudged her head in the direction of their other friends, who had yet to stop arguing.

"Okay, but just remember; what you feel is bothersome to discuss might just be exactly what we have these get-togethers for. Be careful, okay? We don't want you mixed up in the same sort of situation Misty's been in since before she left Cerulean, right?"

Misty had finally heard the turn in conversation and looked at her best gal pal from her seat next to her friend-with-benefits. She was suddenly aware of May's humdrum expression, as though it hit her differently with a change of light.

"He's right; I wouldn't wish my luck on anyone, May." She sighed and leaned forward, "Look, you're as close to me as Ash. I could call you my sister - much more of a sister than Lily or Violet. . . so if anything is ever really bothering you, feel free to call me on my phone, okay? And I don't care if your world is falling upside down or if you broke a nail. If you're hurting, just know that I'm here to help you through it."

The two young women smiled at each other and May knew it was something she should appreciate, having friends who would put her before themselves.

Later on, Ash and Misty would be found preparing for their date in their privates rooms at home in Pallet. It seemed unnecessary, really, to care about appearances and impressions to the extent that they were.

Misty was a lady, so dressing nice when going out at all was normal, but she was being slightly over-extravagant, and knowing this worried Ash. He would have been fine with jeans and a clean shirt of any sort, but the fact that Misty was really trying made it difficult for him not to join her in that.

What did she expect of him? Tame hair? Cologne? Clean-shaven? Would anything be enough, or would it all be too much? She would know he was trying to match her, he was sure, because she was Misty, and it was always easy for her to figure these things out. Impressions were difficult to change between them at this point anyway, right? Especially since they were such close friends already.

He knew he'd settled when Misty had agreed to kiss him with the additional no strings attached. And when she'd agreed to go out with him depending on the no strings attached. And the entire basis for this increase in their intimacy had been the fact that there were to be no strings attached. Maybe he had a point to make, and he knew it. Maybe that was why he was almost okay with it; he wanted Misty to see that, no matter what she'd allow herself to give him, it would be alright. Or maybe he was desperate. It was an unfortunate possibility, but it was a possibility just the same.

The fact that Ash Ketchum was - legally and emotionally - an adult now terrified those who knew him best. It was harder to know what to think of him, to know what to expect, because he was never willing to be second best or obvious anymore. And when there was something he wanted more than anything, he would take whatever he could get that would get him close to that thing. That was probably why he could live with this thing he suddenly had with Misty above all else.

Misty, for her part, felt she was reaching. This territory scared her, and she knew it was worse because, while she'd requested no strings, there were more hanging between her and her best friend now than any guy she'd attempted to date before. She and Ash had history, they were best friends after all. She knew it was more worrisome than anything else that she should be wary about anything and everything that could go wrong when dating her best friend. It didn't matter that they weren't exclusive. There was twice as much to lose now anyway.

Add to that the fact that she still had a huge interview to worry about later that week and the fact that she was constantly gripping at nonexistent conversation topics in her mind, and she knew right away it wouldn't work out. She knew what to expect from this, it wasn't the first time it'd happened to her.

If she was this worried about what to talk about while they were out, it would be near impossible to try and come up with anything. If she was this worried, she would be left with an awkward atmosphere between them that would probably be her fault. It would be like chowder, hard to water down with empty words that were used for just that, and not meaningful things that would make them feel closer than before.

She should curl her hair. She should focus on something else, and she knew that a hot iron would be something she'd have to pay attention to.

Misty was just about to place the aforementioned iron to her scalp when her cell phone rang. She jumped a few inches before looking down at the caller ID and recognizing May's mobile number staring back up at her in glowing insignia. A glance at the clock said it had been only three hours since the two girls had seen each other, give or take. . . What could May possibly have to say to her now?

But she told her best female friend that she was someone to depend on! She couldn't disappoint the Hoenn native now, of all times! And so Misty decidedly answered the call.

"Hello, May? What did you need?" She asked almost immediately. She heard strange noises in the background, rabid honking of evening traffic and sniffles from somewhere closer to the receiver.

". . . Are you crying? Why?" She asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer. There was a few seconds of muffled conversation from the other end and Misty's empty hand slammed onto the surface of her dresser in anger. "You're kidding me! God, where are you now? Huh? Really? Okay, okay. . .

"You don't need to keep apologizing to me, May; you're more important than this thing going on tonight. Don't worry. . . I'll be there in about ten minutes."

Misty hurriedly turned off the curling iron and pulled it from the wall to be on the safe side, then she ran towards her bed and grabbed her purse, stuffing her phone in there with one hand while pulling on the first pair of shoes she could find with her other.

She dodged a fallen pillow and reached her door, opening it up just in time to find a worried Ash staring back at her.

"Ah. . . ! I - I mean, what is it, Ash? Did you need something?"

"Wha--? No, I just. . . heard noises coming from your room and they sounded a bit. . . angry, so I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Misty found she suddenly couldn't look him in the eye, as though she expected him to be disappointed in the news he'd be receiving.

"I'm sorry, Ash, but we'll have to cancel our date.

"Drew just threw May out."

OoOoO

Notes - I'm so proud of me now! I've finished this chapter in relatively good time, and I got everything I wanted to happen done! Yes! I was scared it wouldn't work out that way, or that things would seem jumbled, but I think it went okay. I think Ash may have been a little too tender-hearted but I hope the Pokeshippers are okay with that. I thought that him acting that way was the one thing Misty may have needed after what I put her through last chapter. As for anyone wondering if Derek's reason for breaking it off with her will ever come to light, don't bother. I didn't plan on anything to do with it, not even him showing his face again, so it most likely won't happen. Hey, hey; did anyone notice a manga moment or two in there? I mean, like total shoujo manga moments, like the forehead touching and sweet words? I felt like Arina Tanemura expressing her characters through dialogue. Oh, you didn't know? I'm a huge fan of hers (though I think she needs to work on finger shapes in her manga).

I'm so happy though, still. Even through the depression of being told by three or so people in the past week that my sense of humor is not one to be desired (in the form of tense words or argument) and then my house getting broken into and two hundred or more dollars worth of merchandise stolen. . . Actually, to make another comment on the chapter, the argument Ash and Misty had at the bistro was basically my way of saying that, just because they're getting closer, it doesn't mean they won't still be themselves. Who's looking forward to that, huh? Yay!

Oh, let me take this moment to extend a public apology out to Kitten Kisses, who may very well be one of those people who takes the things I say the wrong way. If it helps, I've taken a few vows of silence recently. . . I'm trying to learn not to talk to anyone who may take what I say offensively, including a certain coworker and a certain staff member of the company I live with. (Believe me, the company statement sounds more complicated than it actually is.) Again, my apologies to you, Manna, and I hope that this chapter was okay in your grammatically-tuned, shippy, in-character book. Lol. I feel like I need to go back and edit every chapter to your liking now, since there seem to be so many things you don't like about what I read. By the way, remember to cut and paste your review if it comes down to it cutting off again this time around!

Oh, right; a few more things. . . Did anyone also notice how I was winding pretty deeply into the sexual jokes and thoughts? Adults have them, people, so it's hard to ignore, and Ash and Brock and everyone saying things like they were was basically my way of reminding the readers that I would be going there when the time came. There was something else, but I can't remember where that was, so I'll just make one final thing clear. . .

It seems like every chapter I finish gets a review or two from someone saying that it seems like everything is winding down to a close. I want to say right now to everyone that that is not the case. There are a few more trials that Ash and Misty need to face, like a certain thing I warned about in the rating area (I think that's where it was). Plus, what about Ash getting put in the hospital for his concussion? (That's not until the last chapter or so, but still. . .) Just to make sure everyone knows, we're not there yet, folks!

Wow, I just went rabid on author's notes again. . . It's been awhile since I've done that. Well, to make it better, I'll end these now and move on to a spoiler! How's that for furthering entertainment?

Spoiler - An interlude on Ash and Misty's relationship proves harsh for May's psyche as it seems Drew's rejection is too much for her to bear and she's not sure how to get past them. Misty and Ash alone are there to support her when she runs to them for help, but they find it hard - too - to focus on her problem when it seems they've got a big one of their own; how can they possibly move into the next stage of any relationship when they feel so awkward? Then they help confront Drew, although it seems like Ash is hiding something. . .