Battleship Down
By Nichole (Neko-chan) Johnson
Rating: PG (Oops! Did James say the 'd' word?)
Categories: Humor (well, depending on your sense of humor), romance
Disclaimer: Naturally, though I may wish, I don't own Jesse,
James, Meowth or the rights to Battleship those other people do, so if you're them don't sue me, yadda, yadda,
yadda!
Summary: A late night (or is it early morning?) game of
Battleship becomes the start of something more.
Author's Note: I was just sitting at home on one of those
boring I-have-absolutely-nothing-to-do summer days when this popped into my
head. It probably took me only 3 hours
to write—a lot less than it took for my other stories—and I personally think
it's my best so far. I'll let you
decide for yourself ^_^
"B-3," says Jesse, leaning her chin in her hands out
of boredom. I can sympathize, barely
able to stifle my own yawn.
"Miss,"
I reply, blinking rapidly in an effort to chase away the second Jesse in my
vision.
Lazily
she marks off the point on her board, trying to stifle a yawn of her own. She has been a good sport so far about
staying up with me all night, but I can tell her patience is wearing thin. Trying not to make her snap at this point is
like walking on thin ice during a warm spell.
When Jesse's tired, she's cranky.
And we
were out of coffee.
Sprawled
haphazardly on the chair next to me, Meowth has already lost the battle with
sleep—playing cards from a recent poker game scattered haphazardly across his
chest and head. I glare at him, jealous
that he can sleep and I can't.
Well,
as much as I can glare while trying to keep my eyelids from gluing themselves
shut.
"James! Your move!" snaps Jesse's voice, breaking
into my sleep-deprived thoughts.
At
least she doesn't look as tired when she snaps.
"Uh," I
answer intelligently, looking for a good spot on my board. Rows upon rows of black dots! How could I ever pick one?
A-1. That had to be it. Jesse probably put her ships in the corners. After all, she obviously wasn't as smart as
I was—none of hers were in the middle.
Just as
I'm about to utter my brilliant deduction and ruin her little scheme…
"Snap
out of it! Either pick a point or let
me go to bed already!" growls Jesse, hitting me with a shower of red and white
plastic pellets. Her hand is balled up
in a tight fist and her eyebrow has that familiar twitch to it. I know that look. She's mad.
Probably
knew I was about to score a hit.
"A-1,"
I say hastily, unable to hide the smugness in my voice. Jesse just rolls her eyes for some reason
and regards her board with a bored expression.
Uh, no pun intended.
Not
because of me, of course. Probably just
because she's tired.
Unless
I just hallucinated it. I shake my head
vigorously. I think I need
caffeine—Jesse's beginning to multiply again.
"Miss,"
she mutters again in a dull, monotone voice.
I sigh and mark A-1 off on my board.
So much for my brilliant corners-theory. She must have lined them up on the bottom.
All of
a sudden, said person bangs her head down on the table.
Hah! I
think. She's given up all hope of ever
finding one of my ships. She must
realize that I'm too smart for her and have already figured out her brilliant
line-up scheme.
Or she
just passed out from lack of sleep.
"E-4,"
comes her mumbled answer to my unvoiced thoughts, causing me to smile
confidently to myself.
Until I
look at my board, that is.
"Hit,"
I mutter darkly, viciously stabbing a red pellet into my discovered ship.
Jesse
raises her head from the table, a cruel smile on her face.
If
anything makes Jesse happy, it's ruining my good mood.
And
hitting me and insulting me and making me dress as a girl…
"Really?"
comes her not at all surprised reply.
Rub it in, Jess, rub it in…
She
taps her chin thoughtfully with one ungloved finger, taking her time picking
the next shot, and I find myself staring.
The
evil look is gone, replaced by a look of careful concentration as her deep blue
eyes scan the playing board calculatingly, considering and dismissing points.
Meanwhile,
my eyes have gone from simple staring to tracing the curve of her lips and the
soft slant of her chin. And staring
into those ocean-like eyes.
Those eyes…
Whoa,
snap out of it, James! What are you
thinking?! You're angry with her,
dammit!
"F-4,"
she says finally, turning her gaze on me and snapping me out of my reverie.
I avert
my eyes—fighting the sudden urge to take her in my arms and kiss her—and look
at my board.
"Hit,"
I respond emotionlessly.
I look
up to see her proud grin. Winning no
longer matters, only that grin. And
those eyes…
Whoa,
whoa, whoa! screams my brain. This is
not happening! She's my friend!
But my
eyes don't care. So what if I'm losing,
she's gorgeous!
No, no,
no! This can't happen! This is the
entire reason I'm doing this! The
entire reason I can not fall
asleep! Because tomorrow—
"G-4."
Her
voice breaks into my thoughts like a droplet hitting a pool. Mentally shaking myself and pushing my
conflicting emotions to the back of my mind, I bring my attention back to the
task at hand.
"Uh…hit,"
I mutter, adding another red pellet and not at all surprised. Jesse giggles happily, making my heart ache.
"Who's
the smart one now?" she says smugly. I
blink, biting my lip.
My
heart desperately wants to lean across the table, grab her hand and tell her
how seductive she looks when she's being smug, while my mind desperately holds
me back.
Don't
get attached, James, it screams. You
have to protect yourself…You have to protect yourself from rejection.
The
entire reason I am sitting here, playing Battleship at 1 o'clock in the
morning, one leg asleep and the other halfway there, barely able to keep my
eyes open.
Trying to
stall. Trying to make the day never
come. Struggling in vain to delete it
off the calendar and never again see that dreaded February 14th
staring me in the face.
What
cruel person came up with Valentine's Day, anyway?
A hand
waves in front of my face.
"Hell-ooo? Earth to James!" says Jesse in a singsong
voice. I blink. "Well, you're alive. What's the matter?" She narrows her eyes at me suspiciously and
I can feel the panic rising in my throat.
I force
a smile. "Just shocked that you're
beating me," I lie. She snorts and
rolls her eyes.
"James,
I've been beating you all night! At
Clue, at Scrabble, at Gin, at War, at poker, at Monopoly, and…and…"
"Outburst,"
I add helpfully. She grins and my heart
tightens painfully in my chest.
"James,
that's seven games I've beaten you
at, and you're shocked that you're losing?!" she continues in disbelief.
My mind
is whirling. Can't let her think
something's wrong!
"I
guess I'm a little tired," I say—not entirely a lie—feigning
embarrassment. Jesse snickers.
"Well,
you can't go to sleep until I've beaten you," she says, picking up a red
pellet. "D-4."
I
sigh—taking the pellet from her—Jesse mistaking it for a sigh of defeat. I guess it is in a way; she sunk my
battleship.
"One
down, four to go!" she proclaims happily.
Meowth
stirs in his sleep, knocking a few playing cards to the floor and muttering
something about a filthy Persian.
Probably
dreaming about revenge. I'll have to
ask him about it later.
In the
meantime…
"J-3."
"Hah! Miss!
F…5."
"Hit."
Jesse
grins again triumphantly, twisting the knife in my heart even more.
Oh, how
I dread the day! Every Valentine's Day
we exchange the same cards: "To my best friend and a great partner!" in bold purple letters, bought from the Team
Rocket Headquarters store. Then we
would hug, chase Meowth for a hug too, and Jesse would refrain from hitting me
for a day.
"F-6."
"Miss."
I
pause, cringing at the memory. "To my
best friend…" Every year that familiar
card felt like a worn-out lie.
"James,
it's your turn."
"F-3,"
I reply, naming off a random point.
Jesse curses lightly.
"Hit."
I
blink, caught off guard.
"Uh…F-2."
"Miss…G-5."
"Hit."
I
couldn't stand to give her that card again.
I couldn't wake up and say, "Happy Valentine's Day, best friend!" and
give her a friendly hug and chase Meowth with her and walk downtown for
breakfast past all the happy couples. I
couldn't snicker over my coffee again while Jesse mocked those same couples
through the café window, the whole time wishing we could be like that.
When
tomorrow came…I don't think I could pretend not to love her again.
"H-5."
"Hit,
sunk."
Jesse
absolutely glows as she gives me a triumphant grin. It's meant to mock me and make me upset, but it means all the
world to me.
And in
that instant, all of my stubborn resolves seem to sink with that ship.
Slamming
the lid down on my board determinedly, I push my chair away from the table and
stand up.
"James! I've only sunk two ships. I haven't won yet!" objects Jesse, mistaking my determination for anger.
Ignoring
her confusion, I take her by the hands and pull her to her feet.
"James,
what are you doing?" she asks in confusion.
Instead of answering, I take her chin in my hands.
And
with all the passion I can muster with my heart beating like a drum, kiss her
full on the mouth.
I can
feel her shock—her whole body going rigid with it and her jaw setting in my
hands. Then it melts away—having lasted
only several heartbeats—and she leans into me, wrapping her arms around my neck
and returning the kiss.
After
what seems like a long time but not nearly long enough, she pulls away and
looks me in the eyes.
"What…what
was that for?" she breathes, looking amazed.
No longer nervous, I smile and kiss her tenderly.
"Happy
Valentine's Day, Jesse," I whisper. Her
eyes brim with tears.
"Happy
Valentine's Day, James," she murmurs happily, resting her head on my shoulder
and hugging me tightly.
Meowth
shifts and murmurs again in his sleep, another card fluttering to the floor.
Pulling
out of the embrace, Jesse looks at me again, a feral grin on her face.
"Don't
forget," she says, kissing me again, "I still
have a game to win."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sooooo, what'd ya think?
Kind of a simple romance, huh? I
thought, if I made it less mushy by adding some irony or humor to it, maybe all
you romance-haters would actually read it.
Did ya? If ya did, did you like
it? And did all you pro-romantics like
it too? Stop nodding your head like a
goofy car ornament and E-mail me! I
can't read minds! (Wish I could
though…) =^0^=
