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"Pigeot, let's take this battle to the sky!"

Pigeot shot into the air, and instinct commanded Honchkrow to do the same. And instinct was where the problem started, as neither bird knew any further way to attack, feeling no hostility towards the other and only awaiting their masters' commands, they could only circle one another and keep out a close eye in case the other attacked. Their attention focused on their trainers, both looking up, and neither wanting to make the first move. Paul didn't because he knew the typical law of whoever attacked first often lost. Ash was unable to attack because he wasn't sure what he was allowed to do. Half way through his first command of taking the battle to the sky, he realized that some of his Kanto pokémon's attacks might not be lawful; something that changed when Paul's eyes met his across the battle arena, icy smooth, a stone cold stare that made his temper leap up and blot out the good intentions. He wanted to win. He needed to win.

He took the gamble and attacked first.

"Let's start this out with a Quick Attack!" Ash called up, his fists clenching at his sides.

Paul smirked at his mistake. "Honchkrow, dodge and think up a Nasty Plot."

Honchkrow wasn't overly agile, Pigeot had nearly double its speed. Perhaps Paul had miscalculated the distance or forgotten his stats, or maybe Ash's Pigeot had been trained better than previously thought, but whatever the case Pigeot managed to glance the creature's wing. It cried once and flapped wildly, trying to regain its lost balance but spiraling towards the ground. Pigeot closed in, hearing another attack called out from Ash, a Tackle. A dive in from the top caused the thing to cry out again, and the blow to the ground didn't help its condition.

But it was fine.

A few bumps and scratches, but not too bad for the blow. It shot up into the air, an angry fire in its eyes. Its wings flapped madly and it screamed at Pigeot, at first nothing but nonsense but soon harsh, angry words that caused Ash's face to tint. The bird continued its rant, having been a long time since it last took a hard blow. It ignored its master calling out to it, telling it to shut up and go back to the battle.

Ash took advantage of the situation, recovering from his embarrassment quickly. "Pigeot, use Twister!"

The winds whipped up, and the angry creature was caught in the winds, unable to break free but could only flap as it was tossed around the room, getting dizzy and nauseous, body taking little hits from the strength of the wind. The three people on the ground shielded their eyes, doing their best to keep their sight on the battle. The wind cleared a few moments later, with Honchkrow slamming into the wall and crumpling, eyes closed and body still.

For a moment, Misty was unable to breathe, gawking and taking in deep, excited and nervous breaths. No one had beaten Paul, not that she had heard of, in ages. And here, her little friend babyface, managed to knock out the first pokémon without a scratch on his own. Her arm went limp at her side, and the shirt she should have been waving to signal the battle's end acted like an old dishrag, slipping to the dust.

Ash startled her from her thoughts. "Misty? Misty! Don't you want to call it or do you think there's a chance it'll still get up and fight? Paul can't return his pokémon until you say it's a KO and I want to get this battle moving!"

"Oh, um, sorry." She blinked rapidly. "Honchkrow is unable to battle. A perfect victory goes to Ash Ketchum. The challenger, Paul, can now return his pokémon and send out another, or, if he wishes, to withdraw from the battle. Due to its significant loss, Honchkrow should be placed in a recycle bin to be given to a less experienced trainer."

"I'll send out another," Paul snapped, recalling the pokémon. He tossed the ball absently over his shoulder, letting it bounce off the wall and roll around the ground. "It seems like I've underestimated you, Ketchum. That was my fault. I lost control of Honchkrow. It was my newest pokémon, so you don't need to worry. Your other matches won't be nearly as easy. The rest are ones I've been with for quite a while, and they know how to keep themselves under control."

There went another pokeball, clicking open and returning to his hand in no time at all. The creature look like a hybrid between a scorpion and a bat, if either creature were metal of metal. It had monstrous crab claws, four metal balls that connected to a large steel pincher bug (earwigs) like tail. Large, metal batwings spread from its metal, two spiked chest, and swooped down to its tiny feet, suitable not for kicking or attacking, and barely for landing. Bat like fangs crept from the corners of its mouth, yellow, machine like eyes glinting. This was more menacing than the bird, seeming to be in a permanently angry state and eager for the sweat and blood of battle.

"I have to warn you, Ash," Paul said, his lips twisting up into a wicked grin. "Those teeth aren't made for snacking. This isn't a real battle Ash. Your pokémon will get broken, bruised and bloody. I suggest you fight with all you've got. Unless, of course, you like your pokémon in corpses."

"Better not kill them now," Misty growled. "I know what your intent was and you can't write it off as an accident."

"And who's going to believe you?" He returned. "It's your word over mine. I think I'll win. Gliscor, Thunder Fang! Aim right for the heart!" He smirked at the startled Ash across the arena. "With that kind of voltage heading straight on through the skin and right into the heart, your Pigeot might get off with barely feeling the pain before it croaks."

Gliscor leapt up, jaws spread with sparks tumbling around inside its mouth. Pigeot screamed and instinctively flew up higher, succeeding only in half dodging and getting the blow on its leg. The electricity went through its system, and the bird screamed. Gliscor dug its teeth in deep, drawling little trickles of blood from the talon. It closed its bat wings and dropped from the sky, dragging the bird along with it so they crashed into the dirt once again.

"If you want to play dirty I've got no choice!" Ash shouted. "Pigeot, if you can move scratch your talons inside its mouth! That'll make it let go! And if that doesn't work, use your free foot to Slash its face! Make sure you keep yourself safe, it's not about a fair battle! We've got a crazy on our hands."

"A crazy?" He snorted. "Sure, Ketchum, I'm a crazy! And you're-"

They were brought back to the battle by Gliscor's scream. Apparently unable to act on its own, its teeth continued to clench around the legs while the bird clawed at its throat and face, fluttering its wings in a Sand-Attack to knock up dust into its eyes. Its face scrunched up tight, obviously in pain but unwilling to back down without being given the command.

"Gliscor, let go, you stupid beast!" Paul shouted, watching his pokémon scramble away. "You could have at least used Harden! Use your Poison Jab instead."

Pigeot looked up, its wounded leg dangling above the ground, the bird perilously balanced on the other. It rushed forward, mouth wide open to rip the poor thing to shreds. But both Ash and Pigeot saw through the illusion, though the mouth was wide, there was no glow or sign of an attack. It was the tail that glowed purple, the tail that was preparing to flash forward and stab through the soft feathers and thing skin to the bloodstream beneath. There was a one hundred percent chance of poison in this one.

"Get up in the air and be sure to dodge its tail! That's where its keeping the poison!" Ash called. "Use your Wing Attack if its close enough!"

It shot forward, angling itself into the air. The tail missed, but so did Pigeot's wing. Both glided past each other. Pigeot turned in the air, coming back for a second chance at a hit. Though, as it closed in, Paul called out for an attack, an Ice Fang that grabbed the wing that dealt the blow. The wing froze, and Ash shouted for a Mirror Move, the beak slamming into Gliscor's chest before finally whipping over, its momentum carrying it skidding into the ground and knocking it out.

Ash reached for his pokeball, to return it, but Misty's voice made him freeze. "Ash! You are not permitted to bring your pokémon in until I've said." She turned back to face the center of the arena, eyes unfocused on the scene in front of her. "Pigeot is unable to battle. Victory goes to Paul…whatever the hell his last name is. The challenger, Ash, can now return his pokémon and send out another, or, if he wishes, to withdraw from the battle."

"Squirtle, I choose you!"

And out came the little, happy turtle. Shielded inside its pokeball, it had been unaware that it was facing Gliscor, the emotionless creature guided by the hands of a bloodthirsty trainer. No, this little one smiled. He was a blue green color, rounded head, with big brown eyes that matched his big brown shell. The underside was a lighter color, tan, and there was a dash of white that circles around the outside, and a tail that curled stretched just beyond its shell's end.

"Squirtle, it's not a normal battle," Ash said stonily. "He's…look out!"

The little turtle was hit into the ground by a Quick Attack, leaving Paul to snicker and Ash to glare. In a second the turtle was up, cheerful demeanor gone and glaring at his new foe. Ash called out a command for a water pulse, and Squirtle hit dead on. While its speed and attack may have lacked, aim was something the pokémon could be guaranteed for. Never was a hit off center, every one a bulls eye. That was good enough to send Gliscor back a few paces, and before it could attack again, Squirtle followed up with a crushing Aqua Tail, that wiped out the pokémon entirely, leaving it unconscious on the dirt floor.

"Gliscor is unable to battle. Victory goes to Ash Ketchum. The pretender, Paul, can now return his pokémon and send out another, or, if he's got half a brain under his emo purple lock, withdraw from the battle and crawl home with his big puppy tail between his neutered legs."

He glared. "You know, Ketchum, I'm beginning to think our judge has a bias."

"I'm beginning to see why," Ash retorted, leveling a stony gaze in Paul's direction. "Want to keep the battle going? I don't have all day. I'm a very busy guy."

"Growing crops?" He snorted, withdrawing his pokémon and reaching for another.

The pokeball clattered against the floor, opening to reveal the massive creature. Four, thick legs appeared to be tree trunk with three white rocks on the bottom of each for toes. Its face was not nearly as pleasant as the other turtle it faced, pointed and fierce, much like a real turtle. Green armor sat upon its pointy, angry head and read eyes glared from under it. White spikes jutted out from either side of its head. Three pointed rocks sat on its right side of its back, while a small tree sat on its left. A white rim separated the shell from the body, and a short, fat tail, brown on the bottom, green on the top, wagged slowly.

Ash's retort to this was reasonable. He recalled Squirtle, and released his Charizard.

This was a proud creature, coming out with a wild, screaming roar that caused both Paul and Misty to flinch, having never seen one of these near outlawed Kanto creatures before. Its body was orange with a tan spot that stretched on its belly down under its tail to the very tip, where a yellow and red flame burned brightly. Big, blue wings were tipped with orange and big feet looked only usefully for providing the beast with a thing to land on. Small arms seemed relatively pointless too, with three clawed fingers on its two hands. A long neck led to a dragon-like head, with two orange horn jutting out from the back, dangerous blue eyes, and a horrific mouth of glistening white teeth.

"Flamethrower!" Ash cried triumphantly.

The beast sent out a roaring, wild flame that burned on and on and on, while Misty and Paul shaded their faces from the heat, and Torterra promptly fainted, limp and little tree on its back still burning with not even a low moan to its name. It was a perfect, quick victory, which would have been much more triumphant if Charizard at that moment hadn't curled up and fallen asleep, deciding that its time for battle was over.

"What was that?" Paul cried indignantly. "He can't do that!"

Misty rubbed her temples. "Did we call no substitutions?"

"I can't remember but he can't do that!" The boy stomped his foot, looking very out of character and pouting. "He can't just bring out a pokémon like that! He's not even allowed to use it! That's not a Team Rocket issued Charizard and it's not in the proper ball so he can't use it! He can't do whatever he just did! He's supposed to fight until they're knocked out! That's cheating! I mean…what the hell was that!"

The girl pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes scrunching up tight. "Dammit, Ash, you can't substitute."

"But you never called it!" He protested.

"Alright! Fuck!" She glared at the two boys. "It's not like it's your first battle, either of you! Grow up a little! Ash, you can't use Charizard or substitute anymore. Put it away and bring out Squirtle. I'm sorry, but we're calling it now since I'm afraid Paul is going to cry about how you cheated and I don't want hit anyone else in the face. Don't try to do that to type trump. I don't know where you learned that, probably street fighting, which is illegal, babyface,and it isn't tolerated here."

"That's retarded."

"Just put the damn thing away," she snapped.

Ash did as he was told and released his Squirtle, and though both the boys were still pouting, the battle started up again as Paul released his.

This was a much more fearsome pokémon. Whereas Torterra just seemed to be pissed off at the world, Ursaring looked out of control. He was a bear, no other way to put it. He stood upright, and there were weird tufts of fur on his shoulder, but a normal bear it what he appeared to be. The only big clue was the ring of tan on its chest, perhaps something that came with the extra strength and new class of 'pokémon', the bear had evolved into this much more fearsome creature.

"Huh, that's from Kanto," Ash remarked calmly. "That's weird. None of you pokémon have been from around here. I'd figure a fancy guy like you got them all imported."

"Shoot yourself in the face," he snarled. "Ursaring, Sweet Scent!"

"You're an asshole," Ash muttered crossly, hoping the boy wouldn't see him scowl. "Squirtle, use Bite!"

Sure enough, the pokémon raced forward, but halfway there it began to wobble, its eyes blinked rapidly and it stumbled around the arena looking confused. Its trainer called out to it, but a lovely, sweet scent was drifting across its nose and its couldn't really focus. It felt a blow to its shell, and then they began at its face and body. More and more, a Fury Swipes attack, but the Sweet Scent continued, and in its high state, it didn't really care much. In fact, passing out was only an irritation because he couldn't much smell the aroma anymore, and was instead forced to surrender to the empty blackness that stretched out in front of him.

"Squirtle's out, and by the looks of it, Ash hasn't had his injection yet," Paul smirked. "Feeling a little out of it, country boy?"

"Shut it, Paul," Misty snapped, inwardly cursing.

No, Ash hadn't had his shot, and hers hadn't worked quite so well. She supposed it was the influence of the pills that day, as none of the injections she had gotten on pill days had worked. As long as she was fresh, no sickness, no nothing, but on a pill day…effects of things lingered. Her tongue slid in her mouth, feeling thick and heavy. Words still managed to function, as did her mind, but in a tired way that made her more cranky than a joyful delirium that Ash was in. Not as if she was high, but like she was coming down from one, or had a hangover from a wild night a drinking.

She stomped up to him, putting her hands on his cheeks and forcing him to face her. "Now, Ash, if you haven't got the injection the best way, the only way to override it is get a really strong emotion. Emotions have a tendency to released chemicals into your system. Most of these can counteract the Sweet Scent, which basically sends out happy chemicals from your brain. Your need to get mad or sad or horny. Can you do any of those lovely things for me?"

"Dunno." He shrugged, grinning stupidly.

"You're a worthless, good for nothing Eggborn and I hope you burn in hell you selfish, selfish asshole. It was good that your father died, probably committed suicide to get away from you and your ugly as hell mother. I haven't met her, but I'm guessing anything that spawned you can't be pretty. Your dad probably wasn't much better. I wonder if that pregnant whore Dawn is any hotter? Probably not. Had to pay Kenny to knock her up, didn't she?"

His delirious grin faded swiftly, and he glared. "Misty, what the fuck?"

"You angry?"

"No, I'm complimented you just ripped on me, my friends, and my family. Even my dad! Haven't you heard of respect for the dead?"

"Stay pissed Ash, I meant every word. You need to stay angry to focus, at least until you knock out Smoky the Bear. I would really, really enjoy a forest fire right about now. Please kill that stupid, stupid, creature so I can move on with my life and never have to be this close to you again." She smacked his face lightly, hoping to make his vision just a little more clearer and letting herself grab at a little of his contagious furry too.

She strode back to her spot, in the center of the arena, and called out the match again. "Squirtle is unable to battle. Victory goes to the dickhead Paul Nobody-Fucking-Cares-What-His-Last-Name-Is-Because-He's-A-Total-Dickhead-Paul. The challenger Ash Ketchum can use his next pokémon or withdraw from the battle. The easy thing to do is kick the dickhead Paul's ass for being a total dickhead."

"Real mature," he snapped. "Aren't you older than me?"

"I'm older than your mother," Misty growled, examining her nails. "Not to say that's a feat, her having you at such a young age and all, unlawfully, with some man who was later assassinated and leaving you to be an annoying dickhead who's only in Team Rocket because your mom was quite possibly one of the best agents that ever lived. Ever feel like you're just trying to fill in her shoes, Paul? I bet you do. I bet it sucks."

"How do you know that?" He asked, confusion flashing through the anger.

"I read your file, duh. I can go wherever the hell I want." She waved her outstretched palm at him. "Fingers registered without a rank. I'm at Giovanni's level. It's a fault in the program. I've brought it up with my superiors before but they never really seem to care. Ash, do you want to get on with the battle? Sweet Scent gives me a headache if it goes on for too long. I can already feel it's starting and I don't want to argue with someone while I've got a headache. It makes me bitchy."

Paul snorted. "Too late."

Ash took the moment to release a pokémon of his own. This one was a bulbasaur. Four squat legs were teal, blotched with a much darker greenish blue. The small monster had a bulb on its back, hence the name bulbasaur, which was a light, earth green. Its eyes were triangles, tipped so the points faces it slits for nose, and a bright red. Its head was round, but a bit squished flat on top, and green, tiny ears stood up, barely visible at the top of its head.

"Poisonpowder!" Ash shouted, wasting no time in diving head first into the battle.

A stream of purple powder soared through the air twirling around the Ursaring and making him cough. The creature winced, backing off and waving its meaty paws in front of its face. Another cry from Ash, and leech seed was released, urging yet another roar from the creature as vines wrapped tight around its body and glowed with a vicious red energy. In return, Paul yelled at it to Slash away the vines to set itself free, regardless of the fact that the seeds would stay in until Nurse Joy came to yank them out. This was swiftly finished up with a Faint Attack, making Bulbasaur tumble away and yelp with pain.

"Ursaring, grab it and toss it out of the arena while it's down!" Paul snapped vengefully.

"No! Bulbasaur, use your vines to hold it still!" Ash returned, and once Bulbasaur did so he continued, "Slam it into the ground with your vines, as many times as it takes!"

The pokémon shifted uneasily for a moment, not liking the 'playing dirty' scenario both battlers were practicing. But it followed the command, wincing as it began to slam the bear into the earth again and again. It was during this dirty playing when the bear stopped its Sweet Scent, Ash's senses swirled back to their proper place, and he noticed the pain the bear was obviously in. It made him want to throw up. Again.

"Wait! Wait!" He cried out, rushing forward into the arena and wrapped his arms around his monster. The bear was left hanging in midair, Bulbasaur's vines still wrapped around him and clutching his bruised body tight. "Don't! The fight's over and…I can't stand to play dirty anymore. He's got all the fight out of him, even if he isn't out. We can't keep doing this. If we're going to win, we're going to play fair. Unlike him."

Paul smirked. "Can we disqualify him for leaving the box?"

"What kind of street rules trained you, Ketchum?" Misty asked firmly, glaring. "Honestly, the shit you're doing! It's like you've never had a legitimate battle in your entire life! Where'd you learn to fight, in the alleys of Pewter? Dammit, Ash! You've got a farm boy accent and a street way of fighting! What the hell is you past like? I can't even take off for it, Paul! Its not in the damn rulebook! No one's ever been stupid enough to run out onto the field! Do you understand me Ketchum? You are breaking entire new boundaries of stupid! Do you get that? You're basically the dumbest person to ever live! You're so stupid we don't have rules for you!"

He grinned, patting his pokémon on the head and returning to his spot. "Well, that's an accomplishment, sort of."

"No, it's not," she glared, crossing her arms. "Paul, just call out your next pokémon."

"Magmar, let's finish this beast."

He tossed out a ball to reveal his next pokémon. This was a fearsome fire type. It stood upright like most of its counterparts before it, red feet connected two its body with short, black legs and big, yellow, round joints. Its body was round, the lower half yellow and making flickering flame like patterns as it worked its way up to the red. Two more yellow orbs connected to the red garlic clove kind of arms, red palms having five, white claws. Its head was rounded, two spouts of fire burning on the type of its head. Its eyes were small, directly over a duckbill. A long yellow tail turned red with flame at the end.

"Looks like the roles have switched, Ash," Paul snickered. "See, I've got the type trump now. You've got a first stage grass type, and I've got a final stage fire type. Who do you think will win? I've got my bets on Magmar, and I only gamble on sure things."

"No such thing as a sure thing, Paul," Ash laughed. "We've been up against worse odds, haven't we Bulbasaur?" The monster gave a gravelly, merry reply from its spot. "We've beaten bigger villains. You're not scaring us off so easily. Bulbasaur, let's start out with a Vine Whip!"

The creature did so, yanking back when the attack hurt it more than it did the pokémon before it. Magmar returned it with a Confuse Ray, bright white light shooting forward to twirl around the Bulbasaur, making him spin in a circle and loose his sense of self. It wandered in a circle, wandering back and forth, ignoring Ash's command to dodge the Flamethrower roaring towards it. The flame licked along Bulbasaur, not making it roar, but instead make its legs give out, not unconscious, but confused with pain and rays and the whole thought of battle. The confusion refused to wear off, not until Magmar closed in with another fire attack.

"Finish it off with a Fire Punch!" Paul cried, clenching his fists.

"Come on, Bulbasaur! Snap out of it! Dodge!"

Maybe it heard, and maybe it didn't, but it did manage to wobble out of the way of the attack, only getting a portion of the attack glancing off its side. This seemed to mostly snap it out of its confusion, and it retaliated with a Seed Bomb. Large seeds shot from its bulb, slamming into the Magmar and fending it off. It added a Synthesis, a surprisingly well worked Synthesis, that cured it of every wound it had acquired. When the bright, green light had vanished, Paul and Misty gaped at it, wondering what had happened.

"What was that?" Paul asked.

"A Synthesis attack, defensive move," Ash beamed. "And I think I know why it worked so well! Magmar's made up of the same energy as the sun, but in a much, much lower amount. So, whenever you send out your Magmar, it's like someone had use the attack Sunny Day! That means Synthesis cures Bulbasaur completely! That's why I was so cocky when you brought out Magmar. Even though it's got the type advantage, Bulbasaur is way more powerful than before. The playing field is practically even! Instead of just rolling over when faced like a type trump like you, Paul, I'm going to stand up and fight!"

Paul was fed up by this time, tightening his jaw and shouting out a final command, "Magmar, one more Flamethrower! As powerful as you can get it!"

The fire began to rage, shooting forward in a deadly flume, which Bulbasaur ran to avoid. Ash cried out his final attack as well, a Solar Beam. Normally, in this situation this was a horrible mistake. Misty winced at the order and Paul grinned, a wild, crazy grin that urged him to push Magmar to its limits, the Flamethrower growing until it had a foot long radius. It shocked them both when, just a second later, Bulbasaur had spun and shot an amazingly powerful beam of light into Magmar, knocking the creature far outside the ring and slamming it against the very glass Ash and Misty had walked through not too earlier. It too slumped, now unconscious from the dangerous attack.

Ash smirked as Paul recalled his pokémon. "I figured, since Synthesis worked so well, why wouldn't Solar Beam? And it did! It fixed it up in no time at all! So, I'll use another Syn-"

"You can't," she sighed again. "That is a rule. You can't use a recovery move more than once. It keeps the battles from going on for too long. If you sue that again you'll be disqualified. I'm sorry Ash, but I can't do anything about that. You can use it as many times as you want in the field, but rules are rules. You can't use it again. You can change pokémon now, if you want. You've got the option. Would you like to?"

"No," Ash said firmly. "I'm not risking having to use more pokémon than I need to."

"Suit yourself."

Out came the next pokeball, a Weavile snarling on the floor. This pokémon had a blue body, standing upright with three white claws on each foot digging into the dirt. Its two arms stretched into three much longer, deadlier claws than what lay on its foot. On its spiky head, a golden oval sat in the center of its forehead, eyes a glaring read. Its pink, feathered tail fluttered behind it, and a headdress of pink stood, curving above its head. Little feathers hung off the sides, about where its ears should have been, looking like some strange, exotic jewelry.

"You can attack first, if you'd like," Paul smirked. "It's not pa problem with me, you see, I figure since this is one of my strongest pokémon, and you can't win without your cheap tricks and Magmar out here, I'll let you take the first hit. What do you say, Ash, man enough to do it twice?"

"Alright," Ash said, wondering what trap he was falling into. "Bulbasaur, use Growl."

Misty winced on the sidelines, wishing she could stand behind him, cheering him on instead of having to be the impartial judge, though she wasn't too impartial, her callings were. Perhaps it was because there were so many rules broken it was impossible to catch them all. Still, she knew very well what Paul's favorite attack was with this pokémon, a trap that Ash fell right into, hook, line and sinker.

"Weavile, use Taunt," Paul commanded, looking much happier than he had now than at any point during the battle. Perhaps it was the trap Ash fell into, but it was more suspected that he was overjoyed to be using one of his favorites. This one was handed down from his mother. This pokémon had never been taken away from him, and didn't appear to ever be ripped away from him, not anytime soon with the way it performed.

"Taunt?" Ash asked, turning to Misty as the Weavile began to mock his pokémon. "What's that do?"

"It means your pokémon can't do any harm to his," she sighed. "You can only use an attack, like Growl, that isn't going to hurt Weavile. It should only last for two turns."

The Weavile gave a happy snarl and raced forward, grabbing the pokémon's bulb and leaving it no chance to escape. Slowly ice began to form around its glowing claws, making the Bulbasaur scream, the poor creature only able to Growl and slow the effect of the ever crawling ice. When it was frozen solid, the creature cackled and picked up the Bulbasaur, Flinging it out of the ring and aiming it towards Misty, the girl barely managing to duck as it whizzed past her.

"Hey! You want points taken off for aiming at the ref, asshole?" Misty snarled, holding up a threatening fist and shaking it at him.

"Wasn't me, genius," he snorted. "Weavile did it all by itself, didn't you, you sick little bastard? I gave it the TM for Ice Beam."

It snarled again, a cackling sound. There was a theory that stated all pokémon were kind, caring, loving creatures that wished no ill will, that they only followed their trainer's command. Misty had discovered this to be untrue. Perhaps all pokémon were born sweet, but she'd seen plenty that warped over the years. A creature that might have been taken into a basement, someplace Misty instinctively kept away from, and the mere thought of which made her stomach twist and face cringe. Weavile was one of these pokémon, that enjoyed not just the suffering of others, but pain to itself as well. He seemed to cast out a wicked aura, there was an air about it that her want to run from the room.

"Ash, bring out your next pokémon," Misty told him, hearing her voice tremble with restraint. She watched Pikachu come out unbidden, knowing it was her turn to shine and take down the creepy creature before her.

"His last pokémon," Paul corrected with a chuckle.

She glared. "Don't talk about what you don't know. It's not his last pokémon! He's got another one on him, I know he does! I've seen it!"

"No," Ash shook his head. "Misty, it's my last pokémon. Paul, if you knock out Pikachu, you've won. You're on your last, and I'm on my last. I only have five pokémon on me, so I can't take you in a six on six battle. But I can beat you in a six on five, and I will. I don't care what sick, disturbed pokémon you've got, and if I was you, I'd take that pokémon to Nurse Joy. There's something wrong with it, and it needs to be fixed. You shouldn't even be fighting with it if it's this crazy! Just look at your pokémon Paul, can't you at least feel what's wrong with it?"

"There's nothing wrong with it," Paul defended. "You're just jealous because you've finally seen a pokémon with real strength! Weavile, go grab Pikachu! Ice Beam the little rat again! We'll show this farm boy what real power is, how to be a real Rocket agent! If he's just going to faint any time he gets stressed out someone's going to have to whip him into shape, might as well be me! You ready for some pain, Ash?"

"Not quite yet, Paul," Ash grinned. "Pikachu's pretty fast, and she works pretty well on her own! Agility and Double Team! Let's see if Weavile can grab the right one!"

No one noticed Misty's eyes widen at 'she'.

Pikachu darted back and forth, easily escaping the Weavile's clawing hands. In no time Pikachu was just far enough begin running circles around the baffled pokémon. She used Double Team as she went. Several pikachus were running around it now, making it spin around with a frowning face and it tried to figure out which one was which. It dived for one, disappointed when the creature disappeared through its fingers, and the clones began to leap over him and turn the other way, making a bigger circle around the Weavile as she began to charge up for a powerful Thundershock. Ash seemed to be staying out of her way, and she was grateful for that. She wasn't much in the listening mood.

The beast in front of her was messing with her senses. The flare of evil, the sickness that flamed around it blocked out plenty, seeming to trap her inside her own mind. Her head seemed light, hazy, and the world was fogged around her with all her senses: all she could see and smell and hear was the wicked creature in front of her, all she could taste was the fear in her mouth, and all she could feel was the dirt under her feet.

She stopped and released it, sending a powerful stream of electricity through its skinny body. Unlike other pokémon, the weak who screamed and fainted, the strong or ground types that brushed it off. This one was different. Weavile tossed its head back and laughed, rolling on the floor like the electricity tickled instead of burned until all the electricity faded away. When it stood p, it was twitching slightly, remains of electricity still flowing through his system and activating muscles that should have stayed still. But one thing never changed. That wild, killer smile never so much as twitched and seemed to be the only part of its body unable to move.

"Pikapi," she said nervously, backing away from the pokémon with her body low to the ground. Her tail automatically drooped perpendicular to the ground, her ears fell back and hair raised on the back of her neck, doing the best to make herself look bigger than she really was. And when Ash gave her another command, teeth flashed in a dangerous snarl, eager to knock some sense into the terrifying creature before her.

Play fair.

She wasn't sure whether Ash had stated it now or if it was a memory from the talk Ash gave to Bulbasaur, but she was sure that, at some point, Ash had made it very clear that they would play fair…even when faced with a snarling, crazy monster who looked overjoyed to rip her stomach open and eat her organs, but she always did have an overactive imagination. So she went back to agility, scampering around the arena and building up the stat.

She cursed herself when she dived too close to Weavile and the creature used Night Slash, a ribbon of pain sliding down her side where the sharp claws met, not bleeding, but certainly bruising the tender skin beneath the fur and the bones beneath that. Now, as she spun to face him, she winced. The pokémon was a better battler than its master, that or very lucky. Turning burned now, bending the bruised bone and muscles in ways it would rather not go. Running circles around it was definitely a no go.

Thankfully, Ash noticed, and commanded her to back away. She did, farther and farther, the Weavile's eyes lighting up, thinking he had her on the run now. A moment later, she rushed forward with a powerful Slam attack before hurrying on her way to the other side of the ring, glaring at the purple haired boy behind her for putting her through this.

Thankfully, the attack seemed to knock the wind out of the crazy dark/ice type. It was on its knees, bent over, mouth open to laugh but unable to catch its breath to do so.

But it wasn't done yet. The wind turned chill and a sharp breeze whipped up, with little needle like ice shards smacking not only her, but Paul as well. The boy behind her shielded his face and cringed, muttering ferociously about an "Icy Wind attack".

She called out to Ash again, wondering what kind of pokémon would attack its trainer. Her heart raced in a terrified pace as the creature smiled at her through the snowier and snowier arena, slowly walking towards her like a serial killer in a horror movie, the only thing missing was a chainsaw, buzzing and flashing in its hands. A Quick Attack might have knocked her out of the arena, had she not grabbed a skinny arm in her mouth and bit, not to bruise or bleed, but to hang on.

Ash called on her to use a Thunderbolt, since he was already so close, and she did, tuning out the creature's crazy laughter and zapping until the Icy Wind had stopped, and she ran back to Ash, wincing a bit at the pain in her side. She guessed it helped that Ash promised to take her to Nurse Joy, their Nurse Joy, once they were done with the battle.

"We can finish it with a Volt Tackle," Ash whispered, lips barely moving as Paul began to rage at the crazy pokémon on the floor. "Can you handle that, or are you too hurt?"

She thought she said something about giving her a minute, though it was quickly discovered that she didn't have a minute, as Paul commanded a Taunt attack. The Weavile looked baffled, crazy grin looking a little confused as it glanced around the room, taking particular delight in a corner that no one was in, laughing and clapping its hands at the empty space. It pointed and beamed at Paul, somehow seeming to hope that its master would get the same pleasure, but its plan failed, and it was rewarded with a slap to the back of the head and a command of Taunt once more.

"Don't look," Ash told Pikachu fiercely. "You can't fall for the taunt if you don't look."

So she didn't.

She glared at the ground, curling and uncurling her toes. She wanted to look, oh how she wanted to when it made a taunting noise, but she continued to look down fiercely, storing up electricity and preparing for the deadly attack. She didn't lose her concentration, not even when it Screeched from across the room. No, she looked up only once she was running and there was no way to stop the attack. She ignored the pain that spiked with every step, and she rammed into him full force, sending the crazy pokémon into its nasty trainer and knocking them both out. Feeling accomplished she smirked.

"Good job, Pikachu!" Ash shouted, opening his arms for her to run to him.

"Good job, sweetheart," Misty agreed, patting her head as she ran past, kneeling down and beginning to check the pokémon and the trainer's stats.

The two ran together and began to celebrate, telling the pokémon in their pokeballs they had won, releasing Charizard and getting toasted, all in good humor. Misty sat and checked the Weavile's pulse, steady and calm. She checked for bruises, injuries, anything severe enough that would need a nurse, but there were none. The pokémon was fine. So, unconsciousness but still emanating the haze of evil that made her nauseous, she put it inside its pokeball and rolled it towards the wall, satisfied only when all nasty feelings had gone away.

Then she turned to Paul, who appeared to be much in the same state: uninjured, just unconscious, though the unconscious part didn't last for long. He sat up quickly and looked around, nearly knocking their heads together with the sudden movement.

"You were knocked unconscious. I'm going to ask you a few questions to see if you have a concussion, alright?" He nodded. She showed him the grin she stole from Ash, which gently changed into her own. "That wasn't the first question. I want to know: what your name is, where are you, what were you just doing, how many pokémon are you allowed to carry at one time, who is the leader of Team Rocket, and how much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?"

"Paul, battle arena, fighting Ash, six, Giovanni, and…" His face wrinkled in confusion. "Hell, I don't know."

Her grin widened. "It's a tongue twister. You're fine, don't worry. You may want to see Nurse Joy, though. Nothing urgent, but you did get all your pokémon knocked out so you're going to want to get them healed as soon as possible. And, in case you have forgotten, he beat you fair and square you cheating bastard. He didn't do a damn thing that wasn't in self defense and he barely injured your pokémon despite what that crazy thing was doing. He kicked your ass and he kicked it good. You ought to apologize."

He ripped away and went to run, but she was faster, rounding on him and snatching his wrist. "I said you ought to apologize. That wasn't a request, dipshit, it was an order."

"You're fast," he murmured absently, ripping his wrist away. "Still a fucking crazy."

"I don't care what you call me," she snapped, "but that guy over there is treating me better than anyone else has in a long time. If I didn't know any better, I'd even dare to call him a friend. But when it comes down to it, he's done me a damn big favor by keeping his mouth closed about something he shouldn't, something that would really boost his rep around here, so the least I can do to repay him is get you to say you're sorry."

"Hey, Farm Boy!" Paul called, looking at the still celebrating boy. "Sorry."

"For what?" Misty growled behind him.

"I'm sorry for ruining your reputation around here. You're obviously a lot stronger than we thought. If nothing else, you know how to battle. Still doesn't change you're a wimp and you're not cut out to be a Rocket, but you can battle. You and your farm boy accent."

Ash cuddled Pikachu close, beaming at the boy's back as he walked through the glass, "And you sound like a thirty year old man, Paul. Lay off the strength building drugs. The side effects are nasty. Bye, Paul! Hope you learned a lesson about battling! I know you can hear me through the glass! Even in the elevator! Just remember who beat who!"

He was still grinning like a moron when she came up to him, looking more curious than excited. "So, that was a pretty instinctual battle style. Been a long time since I've seen that." She smiled. "Looked like something right out Satoshi's story. You battle a lot like him, not copying his strategies or anything, but actually fighting like you're him reincarnated or something. That was really amazing. As long as I live I don't think I'll ever see someone who battles quite like that."

Pikachu wiggled out of her master's arms to sit between the two, eyes flickering back and forth. Ash was starting to get nervous, the mouse noted with delight. He clenched and unclenched his fists nervously, running his hands along his jeans, probably to get the clammy sweat off his hand, though he hid it by sliding his hands into his pockets. His face was bright red, but a light flush, like he was running or the Icy Wind had been whipping his face a few moments before. The sexual tension poured off of him in cute, nervous, hopeful waves.

Misty took a step forward, surprisingly tentative for her, Pikachu noticed, and met Ash's eyes. Quickly, she undid her ponytail than put it back up. Aside from that, Pikachu couldn't see any other sign of nervousness, not until she spoke and her voice gave a bit of a shiver. "Do you remember what I said I'd do with someone who could battle like Satoshi?"

Ash apparently did, as his face did flush now, deep and dark and red. "I remember something about that…but, you don't have to. It's not anything important and, heh, I did that for me. Pikachu, that's the way I always battle, isn't it?"

He battled that way for you, Pikachu lied to the girl with a large smirk. He's got a huge crush on you, absolutely huge! If he got the chance, I bet he'd propose.

"Why don't ya shut it, Jazzy?" Ash snapped.

His fury was quickly replaced with anxiety once more, as Misty took another step closer and quietly pulled his hands out of his pockets. She stared at the floor and held them, taking a deep breath and looking up at him. "I may be many things, Ash Ketchum, but I'm not a liar. I said that if I ever came across someone who could battle like that, before the war, when people battled like they breathed instead of like they were solving a math problem, I'd kiss them."

She looked up at him and smiled, and he felt like a girl when his legs almost gave out. Mew, she was pretty when she smiled. His mind seemed to blank, and he thought he stuttered out a stupid reply, something along the lines of: "I'm pretty good at math too."

She brought her lips up to his, nothing wild, but a gentle kiss. Ash didn't hesitate, eager closing his eyes and clutching the hands that held his own. He ached to push forward, but was too scared he would chase her off. His gut was twisting, pulse racing. His other kisses had been pleasant, cousin kisses compared to this. Her lips were nowhere near as soft, her hands were callused, and she didn't smell like flowers or lovely shampoo, but of sweat and stale worry and dirt from the battle before. But it felt right, and very, very nice.

Pikachu nearly killed him when he was the one to pull away and whisper, "Have you ever heard of Stealth, of the Rebellion?"

She blinked. "Yes, one of the best Rebellion agents, killed by 4574383."

Ash opened his eyes and, with no hint of remorse stated, "He was my father."

Misty dropped his hands and pulled away, eyes wide. For the first time, Pikachu saw real emotion in her eyes, not anger, or not any kind of desire to call Team Rocket, but scared he would attack, but hurt. There was betrayal in her eyes, and Pikachu honestly couldn't blame her. Of all the times her boy could have picked to tell her, now was not the best, not in the least. And Misty, unable to yell or scream with anger, echoed Pikachu's statements with a, "What?"

"A friend of mine, Kenny, is in this place. Pikachu and Meowth found him in the basement. After this battle I was planning on leaving, and I was debating on whether or not to take you with me." He clenched his fists and closed his eyes, turning his head away. "Misty, with that kiss…I don't know what made me blurt that. It was stupid, but I don't have much of a choice now. You have to come with me. I'll take you back to your room and you can pack up your bag."

"And what the hell makes you think I'm going to come with you?" She snarled. "I'll tell everyone you're a member of the Rebellion! "

He sighed, walking closer to her, pleased that she didn't back away. "And who's going to believe you, Misty? You've successfully blocked yourself from everyone here. My word's still going to be believed over yours. And even if you do manage to get someone to believe you, I'll be out of here before you'll be able to catch me. We'll be back to steal Kenny in no time. All we want right now is to get Kenny back, we're not attacking. We don't have the supplies."

"Fine," she hissed. "Then just leave me here."

"I can't," he moaned. "If I could, Misty, dammit, I would, but I can't! I just told you I'm part of the Rebellion, if you managed to get someone to believe you I…I don't know what would happen. I don't want to take the chance. You can't stay. You have to come with me. It's that or I have to kill you and I can't kill you! I can'[t kill a person! Please, Misty, can we just go and make this easier. I don't want to fight with you!"

She glared. "Make me."

"You killed Butch," he whispered. "You killed Butch. If you don't come with me, I'll tell. I'll tell and I'll run. I can't kill you, but they can."

The glare didn't lessen, but she didn't argue, and he couldn't only take from that that he had one. Her shoulder bumped his on the way out, and he had the nerve to snap at her to "watch where you're going". He finally got a taste of real fighting when she punched him in the groin, making him double over in pain and curl up on the ground. She walked away calmly, shouting out how he better not push his luck, as she was already a murderer and she was currently going down without too big a fight. He was damn lucky he had that information on him, the sneaky bastard, and she'd be sure to kill him when she got the chance, and she'd make it look like an accident.

(It's no big deal; you won't need it for a while,) Pikachu consoled him. (With a stupid slip up like that, it's going to be a long time before you get any action.)


I'm not dead yet! Sorry for the delay.
I just want to let you all know that I looked at some of the pokémon I had to describe and frankly, my only thought was, "Oh shit". But Ursaring…oh my goodness that's my new favorite pokémon! Do you know how often I'll use that? It's a BEAR. That's…that's all you have to say. It's a bear with a tan circle on its chest. Do you not love that as a writer? It's just a bear!
As for the pissed off Torterra…I have a turtle. She's not pleasant. I love her to death. I feed her. Love her. Give her a heating lamp. And she hisses and hates me. Hence, the scorched, barely mentioned angry creature.
And I don't much like Paul, not really, because he's very obnoxious and doesn't have a personality, unlike Gary, who was obnoxious with a personality. He's just insults glued to purple hair. So, er, Paul's not very popular. However, unlike the show, I gave him a reason to be an asshole, and I hope to continue to develop his character. Keep a look out for him! He'll probably pop up later.