AN: Disclaimers, etc. from Chapt. 1 apply here. Please re-read if you feel the need to refresh your memory regarding the whole 'ownership' issue. This fic is still for Chelle.  I own Chelle-sama.  I own her soul!  *insert evil laugh*

Chapter 3: Back To Square One, Sort Of
 

"I'm nervous...oh no I'm not...I'm nervous...oh no I'm not..."

"Honey, why are you shredding that poor chrysanthemum?" Professor Hale's voice was amused and Molly looked up to see her father's familiar, comforting grin.

"Because I'm not nervous." She plucked another petal. "Oh, yes I am." She sighed. "He said a week, Dad...and that's all it should take on Route Twelve. So why's he late?"

Her father's smile faded. "Molly, you do know how he feels about Misty, right?"

"Yeah, Dad, everybody knows. I think even Brock and Misty know. I know."

"I thought you might." He pushed Molly's feet off the sofa and sat down, pulling the abused blossom out of her hands. "Maybe you should get out of the house for awhile. And away from the Ruins." He added as Molly glanced at her laptop.

"What if he shows up while I'm gone?" Molly winced at the fluttery-edged panic in her tone. "I mean--"

Spencer rolled his eyes. "You'll be coming back. I'm sure he won't have a heart-attack and run off if you're not here."

Molly heard herself giggle. "You're right. You usually are." She got to her feet. "So, what do you want me to do? Mow the garden? Weed the grass?"

Her father stood and kissed her forehead gently. "Why don't you take the boat into Roseate and pick up your new Onix? Brock called earlier and said it's ready whenever you are."

"Yes!" She cried jubilantly. "Alright! He's going to be so helpful in the Ruins. You don't think it'll be scared in there, do you? I mean, it is just a baby. Hm. I'm going to have to give him a name, aren't I?"

"Not Rocky, please Sweetheart." Her father sounded mortified. "You've got a Teddiursa named Teddie, a Vulpix named Pixie and a Mantine named Manny. Please don't torture this one too."

"Dad!" Molly laughed. "They're not that bad!"

"They are so. I'm just ashamed I have such an unimaginative daughter." She laughed again as her father hung his head in mock shame. "I can't show my face in public."

Molly hugged her father suddenly. "Thanks, Papa." She headed for the door, grabbing her rucksack on her way. "I'm going to go catch the three-fifteen boat. If..." She rolled her eyes. "Ugh, listen to me. Look, if Ash shows up or anything, you can reach me at Brock's."

Her father was eyeing her bag. "Let me guess; if he turns up then you'll be home for dinner, but if he doesn't I can expect not to see you until he's here?"

"Well, I never did go on a Pokemon journey." She said, slipping out the front door and breaking into an excited run. "Bye Dad! I'll be back as soon as I can!"

Even running didn't stop her from nearly missing the boat out.

"Mistress Molly." An old man, Horace, the ticket taker, laughed. "When you gonna be on time, little girl?" He let her onto the Umbreon Fleet with a smile. "If your Papa hadn't called, you would not be on my boat! I'd have left you behind to swim with fishes."

"Oh he didn't! Dad still treats me like I'm four." She shook her head. "Next time, Horace, you just let me miss...maybe it'll teach me to be on time."

Horace nodded. "I do just that, next time." He patted her arm as he showed her into a seat. "Your Papa, he says you want seat facing Route twelve." The old man winked. "He thinks maybe you find what you're looking for and come home tonight."

"He didn't!" Molly was caught between amused and aghast. "Horace, he didn't say that, did he?"

He laughed. "You your Papa's angel, Mistress Molly. Tell you something, I buy you raspberry ice to make up for your beastly Papa, hey?"

"I can buy an ice for myself, Horace." Molly smiled fondly. "You held the boat for me."

Horace patted her arm again. "Is okay, little girl. I always hold boat for you. When the Umbre was going under I hear tell it was some scientists kept her afloat. Besides, one day, I wear you down and you run away with me." He winked. "You keep watch for that thing you looking for, I get you your treat."

Molly shook her head, smiling, but kept one eye on the winding road beside the river. She didn't see any familiar figures on it, though she did wave to some of the travelers. She made small talk with Horace and some of the others on the boat and grew more and more impatient to reach Roseate City.

She nearly hopped off the boat before it stopped. "Bye Horace! I'll see you later!" She called, waving.

Horace waved back. "Probably not today, hey. Mister Brock, you make sure you tell Mistress Molly to name that new Pokemon something nice." He called and Molly turned to find Brock standing on the pier behind her, waving.

"Will do, Horace." He yelled back. "And Misty said to tell you that she'll run away with you soon."

Horace laughed as the Umbreon Fleet set off again. "She stole my heart, that girl. You hang on tight there, Mister Brock or I take her up on that offer."

"I will." Brock called after him. He smiled at Molly and began walking up the bustling main street towards his home. "Misty sent me down to the market to get some windflower tea. She's been a bit out of sorts lately, she says it'll help. Which, I might add, is the same thing she said about the Silver-Needle tea." He shrugged. "I don't mind going if it's for her though. It's been two months and I'm still counting my lucky stars that she agreed to marry me in the first place."

"You're a good guy, Brock. I bet Misty feels the same way." Molly blinked suddenly. "Wait, you're getting windflower tea? And Silver Needle?" She bit her bottom lip to hold back a grin. "If they don't work, tell her to try meadow-saffron. My mom swore by it."

"I'll do that." Brock grinned. "Thanks, Molly." He paused briefly as they reached the end of his driveway. "Misty's got her version of the Unown events written up for you, by the way. She was hoping that you'd bring Ash with to pick it up." Molly watched him glance at her out of the corner of his eye as he dug his house keys out of his pocket. "So, I guess he was pretty busy in Greenfield."

Molly stopped and laid her hand on Brock's arm. "He's not there yet." Biting her lip she plunged on. "If you're thinking what I think you are...it's not that. He'll probably be a little peeved that I didn't wait for him."

Brock nodded. "Good." He looked down at his keys and then put them back in his pocket. "Walk with me a bit yet?" He set off for the paddocks next to the house. "I know that the wedding was rough on him." He said, sighing. "I don't know if you realize it, but Ash has some pretty deep feelings for Misty."

"Yeah. I know. We talked about it a bit just before I told him I had some feelings for him." Molly kept walking as Brock faltered. "That's why I invited him to Greenfield. I want to try to get to know him. I want him to get to know me. He won't forget Misty, I know, but maybe...well, just maybe."

"Good luck." Brock whistled. "Seriously, what he feels for Misty has its roots in friendship; and honestly, if he's going to have a relationship I want it to be with somebody he likes as a friend too." He caught up to her and slung an arm around her shoulder. "But I have faith in you, Molly. When it comes to turning Ash's heart around you're the only one I'd put money on." He pulled her to a stop outside one of the biggest enclosures.

Molly leaned on the rail. "So...which one is mine?" She couldn't keep from smiling as four baby Onix, no larger than she, romped over each other and the grass. One of them roared as loudly as it could, obviously enraged, before slamming itself down on an unlucky sibling. Molly winced. "Tell me it's not the vicious one."

Brock prodded at the aggressor with a pole whose end was wrapped in a water-soaked cloth. "It's not." He succeeded in pushing the Onix through a gate into the other half of the pen. "Nope, that one is going to go to a trainer in Silver Mountain." He latched the gate closed and then offered her a blue and yellow pokeball with the Roseate City Gym and Breeding Center logo on it. "The one that got whomped on was...Rocky?" He hazarded shrewdly.

Molly, as she looked at Brock, had the feeling that her eyes were two horrified saucers as well as the unique notion that she was gaping like a magikarp. It was Misty's voice ringing across the yard that brought her up. "Don't tease, Brock." She was laughing. "Hi, Molly. Your father called us when you left home; he wanted us to remind you that if you, and I am quoting, 'Doom that poor creature to life as Rocky I'll never be able to hold my head up in polite society'."

"Just for that I'm naming it Spencer. Dad had better hope it's a boy." She took the proffered pokeball and aimed at the writhing mass of rock. The remaining three had wrapped around each other. "Hang it! How am I supposed to get the right one?" Three sets of blinking eyes seemed to smirk at her. "Spencer's a fitting name for whichever one of you belongs to me." Molly called to them.

Brock laughed and lifted a set of pan flutes from a hook on the stile. The notes that floated out of the reeds were silver-bright and dreamy. The three pokemon separated and curled up in the grass beside each other. The banished Onix put its head over the gate and closed its eyes. Brock grinned. "You pretend you're their momma, that's how." He pointed at the one in the middle. "Come on." He told it. "Come to Brock."

It did, twisting in pleasure as Brock stroked the base of its horn. "I've never, ever, heard your Onix make a noise like that." Misty was staring at her cooing husband and the ecstatic pokemon. "And I've lived with it."

Brock drew Spencer into the pokeball and handed it to Molly. Even though it wasn't her first pokemon, Molly felt a thrill of emotion. "Thanks." She murmured. "I'll take good care of him." Brock nodded, putting an arm around Misty and leading them up to the house.

"I know you will." Brock smiled sweetly. "I wouldn't trust you with my babies' babies if you didn't take the very best care of them. You love them. That's good enough for me."

"Don't avoid the question, Breeder-boy." Misty said suddenly. "Trade secret or not, you're explaining how that flute sounds like your roaring, moaning, loud-mouthed Onix."

Her husband winked, put his grocery bags on the porch and jumped over the rail. "Wow, looks like Nutkin and Chippy Hacke are up to mischief again." Grinning he headed back for the fields, turning to wave and call, "Be right back, ladies."

"I'll get it out of you yet!" Misty called after him. He kept walking, whistling, and Molly watched Misty's eyes go unfocused and soft. Love was sweet, she mused. And newlyweds were a bit too saccharine.

"Nutkin? Chippy?" She asked, grabbing the bags and meandering into the kitchen.

"Ah, Brock's got issues." Misty grinned, shaking her head. "They're a pair of odd-tempered furrets. Want some tea?" She offered, shaking the canister enticingly.

Molly tucked her tongue into her cheek. "Nope. Not yet, anyway." Misty rolled her eyes and put a kettle on to boil. Molly leaned against the counter. "I wouldn't mind getting my hands on your event report. Brock said you had it ready."

"It's over on the table." Misty nodded toward it. "I wanted to ask Ash a question or two about it, but I figured you'd rule that out." Molly watched as she measured tea leaves. "He's pretty busy in Greenfield, huh? He was a bit sore that we didn't get to see the ruins the last time we were there; I imagine he's having a ball poking around."

"He's not there yet." Molly sighed. "He must have left later than he'd planned; I didn't even see him on Twelve."

"He left on Wednesday." Misty frowned. "I called his mom Friday. He should have been there by now, it's not like it takes two weeks to..." She trailed off and then swore softly to herself. "Listen, Molly, you brought your pack with, right? Sleeping bag and stuff?"

Molly blinked. "Yeah, I thought I might meet up with him, but like I said, I didn't see him."

A light flashed in Misty's eyes. "He's so stubborn." She muttered. "Can you steep that for me and put it in a travel mug?" She asked, pointing to the tea. "I need to talk to Brock for a second." She marched out the door before Molly could answer.

"Okay." She said to nobody in particular. "That was weird." She hummed as she finished the tea and began wiping up her spills. "They'd better not be having an 'intimate discussion' or else I'm leaving." She told the dishcloth as she rung it out.

"We weren't." Misty leaned in the doorway. "If you've got everything, I'd like to give you a ride somewhere."

"My days are just not normal." Molly said agreeably, following Misty to the car.

The ride out of town was silent; Misty seemed lost in thought and Molly was content not to disturb her. "Molly? I'm right in thinking that you're in love with Ash, aren't I?" Misty said finally. Molly sucked in a sharp breath.

"You're observant." She replied, not meeting her eyes. Forests and fields flowed past her window.

"You're no slouch either." Misty agreed dryly. "You're pretty darn aware of Ash's feelings for me." She let out a breath. "I was already in love the day I met Ash." Molly couldn't help turning to stare at her and Misty smiled. "I met Brock at one of the League Gym Association Family Fairs when we were little. We spent most of the day together, running around and laughing and battling. And I knew then that there wasn't ever going to be anybody else for me. It's sappy, I know."

"But, Brock traveled with you, didn't he? I mean, if you and he..."

"Oh, he didn't. He hit on every single girl we ever met, including Professor Ivy." Misty smirked. "But it didn't matter. I liked him, even as I loved him. Does that make sense? We were friends. We still are."

"Yeah." Molly whispered. "I get that." Fields had given way to houses and tidy neighborhoods outside her window. "It sounds nice."

"It is." Misty agreed. "But I think that it really threw Ash for a loop. It must have seemed to him that Brock and I fell in love overnight. Abrupt, out of the blue." She parked the car at a rest-stop near what appeared to be the beginnings of downtown...someplace.

"Where are we?" Molly asked, looking around.

"Medial City." Misty got out of the car and Molly followed her. "There's a fork in the path," She said, pointing, "maybe three miles up. Take the left and there should be a campsite after only a few more miles. It's Route Seventy-one, the long way into Greenfield."

There was subtext to that statement; miles deep. "Let me guess." Molly sounded tired, even to her own ears.

"Yeah, it was one of our last trips alone together…after that we usually had somebody traveling with us." Misty caught her eye. "We got lost a lot." She smiled before turning serious. "Molly, Ash is mule-headed and stupid, but he's also really honest with himself and brave. I don't think he planned on taking this way over to you," She snickered, "Either physically or meta-physically, but I think he might just be saying goodbye to some memories. I think. So go up there and help him lay that to rest, make some new memories, and if he's brooding, hit him over the head with a frying pan."

Molly laughed, surprised. "Will do." Greatly cheered, Molly realized she was singing to herself only when she reached the campsite. The empty campsite. She tried not to be too disappointed; after all, Misty was most probably right...Ash would probably show up soon she told herself optimistically.

"Or not." She muttered irritably, three hours later. "Where in heck is he?" She continued. "It's almost dark out and this is the only..." She paused. Dark? The sun wasn't supposed to set for another hour. "Just great." She growled. "Now my watch is broken. Things just can't get any worse today." She was wrong. The sky opened up and began to pour. "I don't have a TENT!" Molly yelled at the sky. Venting felt good, even if the cold water didn't, and so Molly kept at it.

Twenty minutes later it was still dark, still raining, and Molly was soaked to the skin. And still shouting. "And I will NEVER be DRY again!" She yelled into the rain. "There's not a SINGLE dry place for MILES!"

"Well that's not true." Ash's voice came from behind her. "If you'd hold Pikachu I can get the tent set up. It's not much, but it's dry and Flareon might let us roast marshmallows over his flames."

"Ash!" Relief, and more than a little gratitude, flooded Molly's voice. A sudden thought hit. "How long have you been standing there?"

He smiled. "Since before the ultimatums, but probably after the swearing." He crossed the clearing and handed her his jacket. "Careful. Pikachu isn't in the best of shape right now."

Molly peeped into the folds of the jacket and was met with a sleepy, worn-looking Pikachu. "Kaaa." It sat up straight as it looked at her. Its ears twitched and then crackled. "Pika!" It thrust its head out and looked around.

"Hey Pikachu, I'm over here. Molly doesn't have a tent. I don't think she's ever been out camping...she's upset by the rain." Ash turned briefly and made a face at her. The Pikachu in her arms regarded her seriously for a minute before wrinkling his nose and ducking back into the safety of his owner's coat. Molly had the distinct impression that both males were laughing at her.

"I've been camping!" She complained, watching as Ash set up a tent with quick, easy motions. Obviously tents were familiar territory.

"Probably in the Ruins. That's the same as staying at home." Ash winked at her and then bowed as he lifted a tent-flap. "After you."

"I'm tempted to stay in the rain." Molly laughed crawling inside. "Wow. You must not travel much." The tent was dark and musty smelling.

"I used to do a lot, actually. But I've always hated the tent." Ash fastened the flap after himself. "I like sleeping under the stars. Besides, I hate taking the tent down; you have to be so precise in folding it or it doesn't fit in the harness. We used to make Brock do it, when he and Misty and I were all together. It's probably why he wanted to stay with Professor Ivy. Misty and I almost never used the tent after that."

He bit his lip and Molly felt a brief pang. "It shows." She said drolly. "You said 'marshmallows'." She reminded him, poking him in the leg. Pikachu crawled out of his temporary habitat and began to rummage in Ash's backpack.

"Chu." It muttered darkly tossing something green and fuzzy out. "Pi-chu!" With a tug that sent it rolling, Pikachu hauled out a bag of trail mix. It looked at Ash impatiently. "Pikachu?"

"Well, it's not my fault you're a greedy, sugar-monster." Ash said companionably. "You had an addiction firmly in place the day Professor Oak gave you to me." The Pikachu rolled its eyes. "Ha. You did so. And they are so in there, I've been feeding your habit for almost ten years." Ash reached across and pulled a bag of marshmallows out.

Molly giggled and they both turned to look at her. Ash smiled at her. Pikachu shrugged and began sorting through pokeballs. "Ten years, huh? He must be one of your first. Why hasn't he evolved into his Raichu form yet? He's sort of...well...old to be a Pikachu. Actually, from what I've read, he's sort of old in any sense of the word."

"He's my very first." Ash beamed. "And my very, very, very best friend." He paused and smiled lopsidedly. Molly couldn't resist smiling back at that grin. "And he is very old. He just doesn't like to admit it."

Pikachu huffed, offended. "Well, you're cute and everything. And you seem to be really friendly and smart and all that. But it's true." Molly offered. Pikachu pointedly ignored her and opened a pokeball. A large flareon jumped into the tent, curled up and went to sleep. He provided a nice, comfortable warmth and glow to the tent. "Thank you." She told it, and Pikachu. A quick trip through her bag produced several slim metal pipes. "Great! I've got our 'sticks'." She told Ash, skewering a marshmallow.

"What is it?" Molly was pleased to note that, despite a skeptical look at the make-shift stick, he'd plopped a marshmallow on the end and was roasting it over the flareon's back.

"Core-sampling tube. We use them at the ruins to determine age and help identify possible locations of Unown activity. Neat camping stove." She grinned at the snoozing pokemon. Pikachu flicked one ear at her and set his head on her knee. He was staring. "No." Molly answered the question she thought she saw in the pokemon's eyes. "If you're so young, toast your own."

"Ka-chu. Pikachu. Pika." The look that Pikachu sent Molly was both long-suffering and gleeful as he picked up his own sample-tube.

"I love him." Molly grinned. "He sounds just like me." She felt her heart stutter as Ash dimpled at her; she had to swallow before she could ask, "What did he say to me?"

"He said he hopes there are big rocks under your sleeping bag tonight. Pointy ones." Ash smiled again. Pikachu shrugged. Molly looked at the ground and then at her sleeping bag. She didn't have a good feeling about it.

"Just sitting here is moving in the 'uncomfortable' direction. Something tells me that this isn't going to be one of those 'Princess and the Pea' type things, is it?" Even the hot, gooey sugar in his mouth didn't muffle Ash's laugher. And, Molly reflected, she wouldn't have it any other way.