Note: Sorry these stories seem to be far apart, date wise. Life has been pretty hectic. A few days after I submitted the first part of this story, things came up. Read Crash and Burn to find out the whole story. Then finals, then I had a five page essay due in two days. You get my drift. So just wanted to apologize.
Same ages as last time.
Ash: 23
Misty: 23
Brock: 25
Jesse and James: 30
If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. And if they don't, they never were
-Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet
Last Dance: Pt.2
All she could remember was feeling pain. It surrounded her, ripping her limbs in agony. Her head pulsed, and her brain went numb. Few thoughts came to her mind. Confusion; Fear. Those were the only things.
Misty opened one eye, but then quickly shut it again. Her head throbbed in pain, and she didn't want to open her eyes and see what had happened. Unconsciousness was so much more friendlier. She laid there for countless minutes, hoping that her throbbing head-ache would lead her deeper into the unpresent state. It didn't. It only left her stomach churning and her thoughts wondering. Groaning, she lifted herself up. She opened her eyes and cursed. Her eyes watered quickly and she felt herself turn on the edge of bitterness. Someone had done this to her. Whoever it was would pay.
Looking around, she bit her lip. She was surrounded by a tube like structure, keeping her in a confined area. No doors, no locks, just round plastic. Misty squinted. She could see beyond the wall, even if it was a bit blurry. Someone was behind her door. A man. She was about to jump to her feet, but thought better of it. Her drowsiness would pull her down just as fast. Mumbling to herself, she pulled herself against the wall while shouting, "Hey, you, can ya get me out of here?"
The man looked up, and then smiled cruelly, "Well, it looks like someone has woken up."
Misty squinted against her pounding head-ache. The man was shrouded in the shadows, though it was a person, not some kind of hallucination. Light didn't exist in the room beyond her, yet in her own room it was almost blinding. She eased her head back against the wall and looked around suspiciously, "Where am I?" She asked before averting her attention towards the man in front of her, "And who are you?"
The man chuckled gutturally and said, "How rude of me." He paused while he waved around his surroundings, "Welcome to Team Rocket headquarters. You are now our property."
Her eyes popped open, and her head jerked forward, "What?!"
"I said that you are now property of Team Rocket headquarters." He cocked his head in confusion, "I hope that that tranquilizer didn't leave you delirious."
Misty pulled herself up on her elbows, "What do you mean that now I'm 'property' of Team Rocket?"
The man raised his eyebrows in a nauseating way, "I mean what I say; you're now property of me and the rest of the Team Rocket staff."
Anger and confusion swept through her mind all in one thought. "Over my dead body," She growled.
He reached out and started stroking something next to him. The something purred pleasurably, as if it thought that this man was the most wonderful person alive. "Oh, you will be quite dead, Miss Waterflower." He shrugged calmly, "That is if your dear friend doesn't come and get you."
Putting her right hand against the side of the wall, Misty was able to stand and glare at the man sitting across from her, "Wait. Would you want to run this whole thing by me in slow motion, so that I can understand."
Standing up, the man came to the front of the glass measurably. He stopped in front of her and stared. After a few brief moments he shrugged, "I don't suppose why not." Taking small strides across the room, he started to lecture, "As you can probably figured out that you weren't shot in the back for no reason. I had to um...borrow you for awhile." Misty was about to speak, but he raised his hand in defense, "Let me finish. Now where was I? Oh, yes. I had to borrow you for awhile, just until your friend came and 'picked you up' shall we say?"
Trying to keep herself propped up against the wall, Misty cringed her brow, "What friend are we talking about here?"
The man threw his head back and laughed, "I'm quite surprised that you wouldn't know Miss Waterflower." He chuckled and stopped suddenly, pausing to think. "I thought that with all your wonderful knowledge of Pokémon that you could make a descent educated guess. Now, who would I want to come to Team Rocket Headquarters? Perhaps an inspiring young man, a person who would make a valuable contribution to Team Rocket?" He stared at her lethally, trying to make the stubborn young woman think clearly, "Perhaps a new, fresh, Pokémon Master."
Something in Misty's brain snapped, making her almost cry out loud. Fear in her eyes, she stared at him and whispered softly, "Ash. You want Ash."
He chuckled lowly, "That's right, young lady."
Suddenly all that hate and anger came out as she threw herself at the glass, "You son of bitch!" She pounded on the glass, "Let me out of here, damnit."
The man looked the least bit alarmed, if not slightly amused. "Such language," He said shaking his head. He walked to the front of the glass, and cocked his head, "I would have never have thought that the little scrawny brat that lived ten years ago would be any use to me now." He raised an entertained eyebrow, "Looks like I was after the wrong thing all this time."
Misty stopped pounding on the glass and wiped away furious tears. Glaring, confusion set in. "What do you mean by that?"
His eyes twinkled slightly under the dim lighting, "Surely you remember your trainer days?" The young woman nodded, "I think that you would remember that Team Rocket always tried to steal that pathetic Pikachu? Yes? I thought so." He glanced at her and smiled evilly, "I suppose I should have been after the girl that was following him, not his measly pokémon."
She remembered. She remembered the pitiful attempts that the couple tried on taking Ash's Pikachu... and what was their names again? Jacklyn or Gerald or something to that affect. They never did succeed, and never did she ever hear from them again. Yet, that wasn't important at the moment. This man wanted Ash to side with him, to become his little pet on a leash. She felt steam rise, "He'll never find me. You'll have to kill me."
"Oh, he'll find you. I already have that all planned out." He shrugged, "Now all you'll have to do, Miss Waterflower, is wait." With that, he turned and headed for an exit.
Jumping to her feat, she called at him, "Hey, where are you going?!"
He stopped, but did not turn around, "I'll be leaving now. Get some sleep, you'll need it. I will see you again tomorrow." He hit a button, a door slid, and he walked out.
Misty watched him leave. Brow cringed, she silently bid him a bitter farewell. "And you can go to Hell yourself, Mr.TeamRocket." As she crawled to the ground and curled herself in a ball, she felt like going there herself.
~**********~
Monotonous music played in the background, making the setting seem more formal. A young woman appeared on the screen, fresh face and beautiful smile. Her blue hair surrounded her face, making her seem like just a teenager. Looking up at the camera, she smiled.
"Hello, and welcome to Channel 8 six o' clock news." She shuffled through her assortment of papers before speaking again, "Tonight, police have been investigating the mysterious kidnapping of Misty Waterflower, gym leader of Cerulean City. Clues were found on the scene, including Team Rocket tags and indetification cards. Police cannot yet release the codes that were imprinted on this card yet, until further evidence in found that confirms this case. Tonight we have the pleasure of talking with Police Force: Officer Jenniiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeee..........."
The television was turned out swiftly, as something hit it. A small object cluttered to the floor, and echoed through the large, dank hallways. Ash watched the object fall, and stared at it bitterly. Moaning, he put his head in his hands, trying to make the events of last night fade away. He still had his tuxedo on, the collar hanging limply around his neck. Last night had been a trip to hell and back. Reaching out across the small coffee table parallel to him, he picked up his cup and drowned it. He stroked the stubble that had gathered on his chin, and he heard footsteps enter the room he was sitting in. Looking up through blood-shot eyes, he saw Brock enter the room, a coffee cup in his hand.
Brock took a sip before speaking, "Did you get any sleep last night?"
Ash just made a sound that resembled a grunt and a chuckle mixed together.
Brock nodded, "Thought so." He walked up to the couch and sat down. Placing his coffee cup down, he rubbed his head, "I didn't get much sleep either."
They sat in silence for quite awhile, both trying to collect thoughts. Last night had been a nightmare. Finding Misty gone, knowing her body could be anywhere on the planet. Knowing that perhaps she wasn't just missing. Perhaps she was dead.
Brock watched Ash cover his face in his hands. He was taking this worse than Brock thought possible. Turning to the controller of the Television, Brock spoke. "Have you watched the news this morning?"
Ash didn't even look up, "Yeah," He punched something mentally in his head. "Dammit Brock, they make it sound like she's dead."
Brock stared at him for a brief second, before taking another nervous sip of his coffee. "You know Ash, she could be dead."
Head shooting up, Ash gave off a lethal stare. "Where did you get that kind of idea?" Brock started to speak but Ash cut him off, "Don't answer that. All I know is that Misty's alive." He stared off into space, "She has to be."
Much to his dismay, Brock had run out of coffee. He looked nervously at his hands, before realization set in. He gave Ash a strange stare before asking, "And how would you know for sure? They say Team Rocket probably took her. God, Ash they never are compassionate." Hurt flicked through his eyes, "Not lately at least."
Brock had expected a immediate answer. Instead, silence reigned. The room stood in rushing time, yet you could hear the hum of a coffee pot in the distance. Suddenly, Ash spoke in a semi whisper, "I can feel her Brock."
"What?" Brock thought the after affects of no sleep were starting to take action.
"I can feel her. She's alive." Ash looked at him. Brock stared. He hadn't seen that kind of stare since his childhood days, the kind of stare that sent chills through his enemies spines.
Brock smiled bitter-sweet, "If you say so, I believe you." He shook his head, "But come on Ash. How are the police ever going to find her? Even if it is Team Rocket, no one knows where their headquarters are."
Silence filled in a few briefs seconds. They were the kind of seconds that you could feel the concentration and pressure. Suddenly, Ash head flew up. "Brock, do you remember that couple that kept stealing my Pikachu back when we were still traveling together?" Brock looked at him strange, but nodded. "Maybe they could help us."
It took realization to settle in. Brock jumped up, "Ash, are you crazy?! If you're going to do what I think you're going to do, I don't approve of it. You could get killed."
Ash obviously hadn't heard him, for he was already off the couch and pacing the room, "What were their names again? Jody...Jacklyn...no, its....John...."
A coffee cup cluttered to the floor, yet it was ignored. "Ash, it's too dangerous. Let the police handle it."
Ash gave him a stare, "Do you honestly think they're going to do anything about it? Now what were their names...Jamison...Jennifer...damn it started with a J..."
"It was Jesse and James. Jesse and James." Brock folded his hands across his chest. He knew it was useless to fight with Ash when he was determined.
Ash smiled and grabbed for the phone. Before his hand got there however Brock grabbed it, "Think about it Ash. You getting killed isn't going to save Misty."
He nodded, "I know Brock." They stared, before Brock removed his hand. Almost clumsily Ash dialed on the phone. It rung once..then twice..before someone answered it. "Yeah operator, I need the Jesse and James residents."
~*********~
The phone rung lazily, and Jesse looked up from her cooking. James was laying sprawled out over a old couch, near the small cordless phone. Sighing, she yelled from her pot of steaming contents, "Would you get that James?"
No answer.
Jesse sighed and turned the oven's tempature down. Taking her apron off, she walked up to the phone and picked it up, but not before giving off a silent stare at James. Hanging the receiver in the shallow of her neck, she spoke lazily into it, "Hello?"
A nervous voice sounded on the other end, "Is Jesse or James there?"
She rolled her eyes, "This is Jesse speaking." She took a quick glance at her finger nails, "Look I'm not interested in buying anything from you."
"What?" The other side asked, confusion mixed in it. "Oh, never mind. Jesse, you probably don't remember me, but I want you to shut-up and not interrupt. This Ash Ketchum, from Pallet town."
Jesse's eyes opened wide, and she nearly dropped the phone. "You're Ash Ketchum? THE Ash Ketchum?"
The other end sighed, "Didn't I tell you not to interrupt? Oh well; yeah it's me. Does that name ring a bell?"
She nearly found herself choking, "Of course it does. You're only the most famous pokémon trainer in the world right now."
"I'm not talking about that. About ten years ago."
She started to find herself going on the edge of impatience, "What the hell are you talking about?"
The disembodied voice sounded equally inpatient, "Remember Pikachu? The one you always tried to steal?"
Memories started to flood into her brain. The endless road, the pesky pre-teenagers, and the scratchy Team Rocket uniforms. "You -- you-- you're the twerp?"
The other end of the phone sighed reluctantly, "If that's what you want to call us." It was silent for a few rare seconds, while realization and memories started to settle in. "Listen up," a voice suddenly broke the silence, "I need your help."
Jesse chuckled, "You need our help?" She shook her head slowly, "What could we ever do?"
Silence reigned. "I need you to take me to Team Rocket Headquarters."
Her mouth fell agape, and her throat went suddenly dry. "Why do you need to go there?"
"I can't talk about it now. Meet me at six o'clock at the coffee shop on Trail Street. Don't be late."
Jesse nodded before she started to realize what she was being told. "Wait, if you want help, I know a good source."
The voice on the other end sounded anxious, "What is it?"
She quickly dug through her magazines and memo notes on the coffee table, before she found the name. "He's good, or at least that's what I'm told. His name is Mr. Gary Oak, and he lives on Second Street, near the crossing." She listened for awhile until she heard nothing but silence on the other end. Shrugging, she put the receiver down. She turned around and looked at James, still snoring loudly. Smiling smugly, she smirked, "That's what you get, James, when you don't answer the phone yourself."
~**********~
Ash looked in the rear-view mirror for the hundredth time on Main Street. Sighing, he watched nervously at the stopping cars waiting patiently for their turn at the stoplight. Leaning back in his chair, he turned to Brock. "I really don't want to do this."
Brock nodded silently, and said nothing more. They sat in complete silence for minutes before they moved foreword in the car. Smoke sputtered in a careless fashion and they sped along the dirt road, watching shop signs pass them by. Ever since Ash had become the new Pokémon Master, Pallet Town had become one of the top tourist places in the world. Companies had rushed beyond reason, to get a single store on a small stretch of land. Life was hectic here now, and many former Pallet Town residents moved on to uncrowded places.
They turned on a small street near an intersection before Ash rolled down his window and stuck his head out. More personal stores were located on this side of town and small privately owned restaurants were lined in a fashionably way along the corner's of land. Seeing his destination, Ash turned the car into a small gravel parking lot, making stones kick the side of the car. Stopping, he looked straight at Brock, "Well here goes nothing."
Brock smiled bitter-sweet and shrugged. "Maybe he won't remember you."
Ash rolled his eyes, "I only wish."
They opened the car doors only to open the store door. The air was stiff and foul, while a small ceiling fan spun in the center of the room. A small desk was located in the back of the room, with someone sitting in a chair next to it. He had crazy brown hair and a small arrogant smirk that looked like it would never go away. He was working on a small pile of papers and didn't even look up at the duo who had just walked into the room.
"Welcome to Oak's Detective Service. What do you want?" His voice sounded rough, as if he had been breathing to much foul, heavy air for too long.
Ash spoke first, "Can we speak to Mr. Gary Oak?"
The man looked up, "You're looking at him." He stared at Ash, eyelids squinted. "Haven't I seen you before?" Leaning back in his chair, he seemed curious.
Ash gave a stare back and curled his lips, "Gary, it's Ash."
The young man looked hard at him for a few brief seconds, shock spread across his features. Slowly but surely a small smile began to spread across his lips, "Well it looks the loser is finally back."
Ash felt his face go red, "I am not a loser!"
Gary only nodded, "Sure, sure, kid, whatever you say." He smiled nastily. "And it looks like you came for help." Nodding at the TV, which was now playing the news, he sneered, "I can already see it coming."
Ash was about to say something, but then shut his mouth just as quickly. He stared before speaking, "Look Gary, I don't want to get into a fight now." He sighed, "I need your help. I really do. Now if you can stuff your arrogance up your ass for a few brief seconds, I'll let you know what the plan is."
Gary gestured for him to go on.
"Look, I don't have much time. The police are bound to catch onto our plans somehow. Misty is gone. I know where she is, but I need you to get us there. Can you help?"
Putting his hands behind his head, Gary lifted an eyebrow curiously. "What's in it for me?"
Ash folded his hands across his chest, "The satisfaction of working with me."
Gary smiled good-naturely, "If that's all, I don't want the job." He turned to his stack of papers and started working.
Frustrated, Ash threw his fist down on the desk. "Would you stop being so damn stubborn?! I need your help. Look I want to work with you just as much as you want to work with me, but I promise some stupid reward will be paid to you. Now do you want to help me or not?"
Alarmed, Gary looked up. He leaned back in his chair before scratching his chin. "If you want my help, Ashyboy, I guess I'll give it a try." He tilted foreword, "But if we don't find her, we don't find her. I can't make you any guarantees."
Ash smiled, "That's more like it." With that he extended his hand. Gary gave him a double take, before taking the hand and shaking it.
~************~
Misty woke up to a pounding head ache. The floor seemed to vibrate, and the lights were too bright. Pushing herself up, she heard a small chuckle coming from the edge of the room. Moaning, she leaned against the glass. The man had come back, just as he had promised.
"Good morning, Miss Waterflower." His voice was scratchy and sounded like a broken record with the same sarcastic tone.
Pushing her dress out, she frowned. "Leave me alone."
The man simply smiled nastily, "I thought you enjoyed company."
She stood on her feet, and found them to be shaky. Her whole body tingled, and she felt like throwing up last night's dinner. "Well I guess you were wrong." She said finally, trying to heave enough sarcasm to match his own.
"Well, well, well. If you don't enjoy my presence I think I might as well leave." He stood up. "I will send someone to give you you're food at noon."
"I'm not hungary," Misty said, tilting her body against the glass.
"Then you'll just have to starve," The man said, before heading to the door. "Have a good day, Miss Waterflower."
Misty looked at him glowingly, before a thought suddenly popped into her head. "Wait a second. You never told me your name."
The man chuckled gutturally, "I suppose I didn't. How rude of me." He stared at her, and Misty could swear she could see his eyes glow. "Some people call me Boss, but you can call me Giovanni."
~*************~
End Pt.2
Thanks for the feedback on the last story, but I appreciate all kinds of feedback on this one.
