Slumber Party
Chapter Five—We'll Always Have the Bathroom
Ash sat on the bathroom floor with his head between his knees, staring at the tile miserably. He alternated between self-pity and loathing. Forget love not being easy—liking someone was hard enough. It would figure that by the time he got over the shock of knowing Misty liked him—and then got over the shock that he actually liked being liked and wanted to like her back—she would hate him.
She didn't kill him after all. She cried, which was even worse. Last night she had even cried herself to sleep, not that he would know; he had been forced to sleep on the sofa when Misty locked him out of his room. He only found out that morning because Brock told him so at breakfast. The older trainer, having been in on the trick, wasn't being treated much better by Misty, but since he wasn't the one she had a crush on, she had grudgingly allowed him to sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor.
Ash tried to apologize over breakfast, he really did. But over the course of the night Misty's feelings changed from tearful embarrassment to silent anger, and so she made an appearance at the breakfast table only to ignore Ash's presence completely. She went back to barricading herself in his room straight afterwards. And as for Ash, he hadn't exactly been grounded, because his mom had forced him to admit the reason for Misty's behavior, which was that she liked him but thought he had betrayed her. Which, of course, had forced him to admit in turn that he liked her back. Once his mom got over cooing, ruffling his hair, and pinching his cheeks so hard that his face was as red as Misty's hair, all because he had a crush, she assumed that he had seen the error of his ways and was paying the price for it. She also told him that Misty would eventually forgive him—though Ash had his doubts.
But his mom was also pampering him every moment she got, and though Ash would normally appreciate it, his ankle was all but better and he preferred to be allowed to mope. And then Brock was acting like a colossal pain by both sympathizing and teasing him for his dilemma, of which neither action was appreciated. So he might as well have been grounded, because since he couldn't retreat to his room, Ash had sought refuge in the bathroom until his mom stopped pinching or Brock stopped singing any and every song that had the word girl in it, whichever came first. Pikachu kept him company for most of the morning, though when Ash got bored, decided it would be cool to be have a toilet-trained pokémon, and tried to convince Pikachu to 'pika poop' in the toilet, Pikachu had abandoned his trainer in favor of Ash's mother. Ash's hunger drove him out of the bathroom soon afterwards, and he wandered out to the kitchen long enough to get a sandwich and left for the bathroom again when Brock started crooning I'm Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman. And to think, this was the guy they looked to for expert advice on their journeys.
Later that afternoon, as Ash counted the raised bumps on the ceiling, his mom knocked on the door to inform him that she was going into town to run some errands, and that he'd better not be making plans to waste any more toilet paper—her one grudge against last night's activities, as after all, think of all the people in the Orange Islands who had outhouses and would love to have Charmin in their bathroom. She also told him to stay off his ankle, make sure he washed his face and had changed his you-know-whats, and—since he was already in the bathroom—would he please clean the toilet? So Ash poured bleach in the toilet, temporarily forgetting that his bathroom wasn't well ventilated, and then had to lean out the second-story window for a half hour, gagging at the smell. When it finally dissipated and he was back to sulking on the floor there was a knock at the door. With his mom gone, it could only be one person—Ash was suddenly fed up and decided to let him have it.
"Brock!" he yelled. "No, I will not help you with your make-up, I don't care if that dress makes you look fat, and for crying out loud, would you quit bugging me about tamp—"
"Ash Ketchum! I already know you borrowed my bra, but if you even dared to look under the counter at my supplies—"
"Misty!" Ash gulped and his face turned red. He didn't even want to think of Misty and tampons in the same sentence... "I didn't touch them, I swear, I just thought you were Brock!"
"Sure, that makes sense," she grumbled. "What would he need them for?"
Oh boy. That was even worse. Ash tried to ignore that remark. "I thought you weren't talking to me."
There was silence as she was caught off-guard and then curtly replied, "I'm not!" Of course, technically she was right. She wasn't talking, she was yelling.
"Then what are you doing?" he asked.
"What do you think I'm doing? I have to go to the bathroom. Otherwise I wouldn't be standing outside the bathroom door," she said, and the door in reference was unable to block the sarcasm in her voice.
He didn't really want to face either her or Brock. He preferred to keep his head, and whether
by decapitation or insanity, he'd lose it with both of them. "Can't you use my mom's?"
Another silence. "Forgot about that," he heard her mumble,
and he heard her started to walk away and then turn back. "Wait a minute! I shouldn't have to!"
"Misty!"
"It's your fault you're stuck in the bathroom anyway, so the least you can do is give me the courtesy of choosing whichever toilet I want!"
Girl-logic. There was no use arguing with it. "All right, but be quick."
He opened the door and reluctantly gave in to the fact that, with the opportunity in front of him, he should try again to apologize. And it wasn't that he didn't want to apologize; he just didn't want his nose broken when Misty slammed the door in his face. "Misty, I—" he began.
She didn't even look at him as she brushed past and shoved him out into the hallway. "I'll be as long as I want!" she said haughtily. Seconds later he heard the lock click. He sighed and walked to the other side of the hall to wait her out. Knowing Misty, she'd find a way to get mad at him because he overheard her pee. Why was he putting up with this? Oh yeah, because he liked her. Supposedly.
A noise down the hall distracted him, and he recognized the sound of Brock's humming. Shoot...all he needed was for Brock to pin his arms to his side and force him to sit through another chorus of Pretty Boy again...he willed Misty to hurry up, knowing it was a lost cause. Misty spent more time in the bathroom than a constipated pokémon would. What did girls do in there, anyway? That was one thing that even dressing as a girl would never help him figure out...
The toilet flushed, the door opened, and Misty started to walk out, her nose wrinkled disdainfully. "Why does the bathroom smell like chlorine..." was all she was able to say before Ash saw Brock out of the corner of his eye and freaked.
"Get inside!" he said, pushing her back and darting into the bathroom himself. He slammed the door so forcefully it made the mirror rattle, and then locked it behind him.
"What do you think you're doing?" Misty asked, her voice dangerously low. He knew to tread carefully—he usually got pounded about now. But the threat was great enough for him to take the risk.
"Shh..." Ash motioned frantically. "Brock's outside."
"So?"
"So, unless you want to have
Brock serenade you with Britney Spears songs, shut up!"
"Don't tell me to shut up," she said, but the warning had effect. They crouched next to each other silently until Brock passed by. Ash heard yet another few measures of Cinderella, but it could be worse. Much worse. As the music (if it could be called that) faded away he allowed himself a sigh of relief.
"He's gone," Ash told Misty, and tried to take advantage of the situation again as he attempted to get her to talk to him. "Misty..."
"Forget it, I'm leaving," she said acidly, and put her hand on the doorknob. He heaved another sigh, this one frustrated. This had to stop—he reached out and caught her wrist with his hand, taking her by surprise. Good, confusion was an excellent start.
"Can we talk?" he said. "Please—I've told you I was sorry."
Misty recovered and shook his arm off. She put her hand back on the doorknob in annoyance. "There's nothing to talk about. Besides, sorry isn't enough."
"But what can I do?" he pleaded. He wasn't above begging—after all, he'd already degraded himself by wearing a pink dress. Begging was the least of his worries. "Misty, I didn't mean to hurt you. Isn't there anything I can do?"
"No," she said flatly. "Just let me be. Maybe I'll forgive you, eventually..." She cast him a dark look. "But probably not. I'm leaving."
She pulled forcefully on the doorknob, but it didn't budge. That did what neither Ash's mom or Brock had successfully been able to do since last night—it distracted both Ash and Misty from their argument. Only for a moment, though. They both looked at the door as Misty frowned and tugged on it once more. When it didn't move, she turned to him, exasperation quickly turning to anger. "All right, what did you do to the door?"
"I didn't do anything to it!" he protested. "What are you talking about?"
"It's stuck."
"Well, it was locked."
"I unlocked it, you dimwit!"
"Let me see." Misty stepped over to accommodate him, crossing her arms over her chest as she did. She tapped her foot impatiently as he reached down and yanked at the doorknob. It jiggled maybe a fourth of an inch but still refused to turn. He leaned back and pulled harder on the door. Still no luck.
"It's not moving," he said.
"That's what I just told you, you stupid idiot!" Misty snapped. She looked suspiciously like she was trying to keep from strangling him, though why she would restrain herself, he didn't know. He cringed and scratched his head. Great, they were stuck in the bathroom. This was not going to help matters.
"It's never done this before," he said. "What do we do?"
She sucked in air furiously, but Ash didn't think she was trying to calm down. "We have to call for help and admit that we're stuck in the bathroom together, dork," she said sharply. "Now look what you've done. You were worried about Brock singing to you—what's he going to do when he finds out you're stuck in the bathroom with me?"
That was not a good thought. "Do we have to tell him?" he asked nervously.
"Of course! How else do you expect to get out of here?" she asked, and she did punch him for that remark. Ash winced and rubbed his shoulder as he answered.
"We could climb out the window..." he suggested. "My head will fit through it..."
"What do you know, miracles do happen," she said, rolling her eyes. "And I won't even ask how you know that...seeing as we're on the second story, you dork!"
"But there's a tree close by..."
"No!" She shouted, yanking on her ponytail. She always did that when she was really annoyed. Considering how hard she was pulling, it looked like she would be bald before she forgave him. She continued, "I will not let you kill yourself before I get a chance to kill you first." Ash sighed. He always knew it.
"But then what do we do?"
"I already told you..."
A scratching at the door interrupted them. Ash brightened—that was the way Pikachu indicated that he wanted in a room. At least Pikachu forgave him for his stupid actions. The scratching stopped, and then there was an inquisitive "Pika?" outside the door.
"Pikachu!" Ash cried in relief. He ran over to the door and jiggled the handle. "Pikachu, we're stuck! The door won't open. Can you do something?"
"Pika!" Pikachu shouted his agreement outside the door. "Pi...ka..."
Misty's eyes widened and she temporarily forgot herself. "No, Ash, let go of the door...!" she said urgently. "Metal conducts electri—"
"CHUUUUU!"
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh...."
"—city," Misty finished lamely as Ash went flying backwards and crashed into the toilet—for the second time in as many days. He looked up in a daze. "Are you okay?" she asked in concern
Ha, Misty did still care about him. He smiled at her as he tried to sit up and said, "Yeah..."
Misty caught herself. "Too bad," she said, sticking her nose in the air and turning her back to him. Ash sighed again and slumped back down.
"Hey, what's going?"
Ash didn't know if he should be happy or seriously depressed to hear that voice. Misty didn't look thrilled, but she took what she could get.
"Brock!" she shouted. "Help us out here, we're stuck!"
"What do you mean, stuck?" Brock asked.
"I mean the door won't open! Ash managed to get us stuck in the bathroom!"
A silence, then a snicker. "You're stuck in the bathroom with Ash?"
"That's what I just said, stupid!"
"Together?"
"Brock! Just shut up and get us out!"
And then there was a new a voice. "Who's yelling?"
"Tracey?" Ash groaned. "What are you doing here?"
"Professor Oak sent me on an errand. I should ask you the same. What are you doing?"
"I'm stuck in the bathroom."
"With Misty?" There was a longer silence—then a chuckle.
"Oh, shut up and help Brock!" Ash snapped.
"Help me do what?" Brock asked.
"Open the door, you fool!" Misty screeched, and Ash covered his ears. Misty turned around and glowered when she saw him. Oops.
"What?" Ash said weakly. "It echoes in here!"
Misty pulled his arms down roughly. And she had said he had a big head—hers looked ready to explode. "That's it!" she yelled. "I've had it! Get out of my sight!"
Ash looked around uncertainly. There was a slight problem with that. "Umm...Misty...we're stuck, if you hadn't noticed..."
"I don't care!" she yelled. "Get...get..." she spotted something and shoved him away. "Get in the tub if you have to! Just go away!"
"Misty...!"
"Don't forget, this is your fault! And pull the shower curtain around you!"
Ash buried his face in his hands. It wouldn't do any good to make her angrier than she already was, so...without a word he turned around and, grimacing, sat down in the tub. Eww, it was still damp. He pulled the curtain around him, feeling ridiculous in the process. He heard Misty give a hmph and then lower the toilet lid so she could sit down herself.
"Misty..."
"Did I tell you that you could speak?"
"You didn't say I couldn't."
"Well then, shut up!"
Ash sighed and did. He wondered if Misty noticed he had stopped arguing. He didn't mean to pick fights with her. It just happened. For a moment all he could hear was the sound of metal striking metal as Brock and Tracey worked on opening the bathroom door. If they had heard the argument, they had wisely decided to stay quiet—which led him to believe that they hadn't heard the argument. Though he wasn't sure how they could have missed it. He dared to speak again. "Are they making any progress?"
"Why are you talking?"
"Can't I even ask a question?"
"No!"
"Fine!" Ash leaned against the side of the tub and pouted. He was extremely uncomfortable, but he didn't want Misty to have the satisfaction of hearing him fidget. He'd settle for a backache.
"Hey Brock?" Misty called after a moment. "Are you making any progress?" Ash opened his mouth to protest, thought better of it, and smirked instead.
"Getting there...I think part of the lock mechanism was rusted and broke. We're trying to see if we can spring the door before resorting to taking the doorknob off," Brock said. "I don't think Mrs. Ketchum would be too happy to come back from town and find a hole in her bathroom door."
"Why not? There's one in Ash's head," Misty muttered. Ash gritted his teeth and didn't say anything. This was hard, but for once he was being smart. The silent treatment worked both ways. He heard Misty shifting restlessly in her seat, and he knew she was wondering what he was doing.
"Hey, what's going on?" A perky, feminine voice entered the fray. Good grief, just invite everyone to see his humiliation. Who was going to show up next, Gary?
"What have you gotten yourself into this time, Ashy-boy?" another boy's voice said. Oh, good grief, it was Gary. Ash was going to jump out the window now—right after he took that stupid Ashy-boy and shoved it down Gary's throat.
"Angie!" Brock's voice jumped two octaves as he fell in a lovesick swoon. "My British blossom! What brings you to this side of the Isle?"
"I live here, remember?" Angie said pleasantly.
"In this house?"
"No, Brock, just in Pallet."
Brock was undeterred. "Good! Then let me give you a tour of the house!"
"Brock!" Ash and Misty yelled simultaneously. He heard Misty jump up and run over to pound her fist on the door. Ash tried to get up himself, but slipped on the tub and banged his knee instead. Well, that was nice. Now he'd have a bruise on his knee to match the one on his ankle.
"Brock?" Tracey sounded confused. "Aren't you going to stay and help?"
"What was that?" Angie asked. "It sounded like Ash and Misty..."
"No, it's nothing..." Brock said hurriedly. "Here, let me show you the kitchen first...and it just so happens to be the furthest room from the bathroom, how about that?" Their voices faded away with the sound of footsteps.
"Nothing?! Nothing is what will be left of his life when I'm finished with him..." Misty yelled. Ash covered his ears again and was thankful that Misty couldn't see him through the curtain.
A slight rattling sound was heard. "Don't worry guys, I'm still here..." Tracey said as he continued to wrestle with the unyielding doorknob. "And so is Gary. He's going to help."
"He is?" Misty asked, surprised enough she didn't even sound mad.
"I am?" Gary asked. "I just came to deliver a message for my grandfather..."
"What a coincidence, so did I," Tracey said dryly. "Here, have a screwdriver."
"Well, thanks guys," Misty said, sighing.
"Yeah, thanks," Ash echoed, frowning. Great, now he was going to owe Gary a favor. The last time that happened he had ended up with his underwear flying from Professor Oak's weather vane.
"Did I give you permission to speak?" Misty asked.
Ash hit his head with the palm of his hand. He was tired of this—whether she still liked him or not, he wanted his best friend back. And he wanted her to stop insulting him...okay, to insult him without malice, at least. He stopped trying to appease her and played the offensive. Misty would forgive him or he would die trying—which, considering her state of mind at the moment, was quite likely.
"Misty, this is crazy!" he said. "This has got to stop..."
"It's your fault," she reminded him.
"You've told me that already, but it's your responsibility to accept my apology! I can't do it for you!" he said in frustration, then cowered and closed his eyes as he waited for her to stalk over and pound him.
"Ash!"
Boy, she was mad. One...two...three...the curtain was going to open any minute now, and the next thing he knew she'd have hit him so hard he'd be trying to dig his head out of a crater on Mars. So he waited. And waited. And waited...
He opened his eyes. Finally! Something he said had gotten through to her. She couldn't retort to that...there was hope. He may even be able to finish the apology he had planned. He sat up and cleared his throat.
"You know, I don't understand why you're so mad," he began. Which, if that was the best opening line he could come up with after six hours in the bathroom, was pretty pathetic.
"Because you lied to me, you idiot!" Misty said, shocked enough at his stupidity that she sounded more disbelieving than angry. He hurried on with his apology before those emotions reversed.
"No, I didn't," Ash countered. "Everything I told you as 'Ashley' was true."
"What, so you do have a crush on Brock?" she said sarcastically.
"What?...NO!" Ash shouted, blushing. Of course. She would have to bring that up. He took a deep breath. "Besides that."
"Like what?" she challenged. He had learned something from that slumber party—he paused before he answered, because he knew it would drive her crazy. Misty didn't take secrets very well...he grimaced. He should have remembered that before the slumber party, not afterwards. On second thought, he'd better go ahead and say something.
"Like..." This was really going to throw her for a loop. "That I think you're pretty...and nice..."
The silence that followed that statement made him wish he could see her face, but he didn't dare move. "You didn't say I was nice," she said quietly, and that was the first thing she said since yesterday that wasn't dripping with sarcasm or anger. Not only that, but she was keeping her voice down so that Tracey and Gary wouldn't overhear them. And she was still thinking. "You think I'm pretty?"
This was surprisingly easy—there was a valuable lesson in this, Ash decided. Next time Misty was mad at him, all he had to do was give her a compliment. Pride was easier to swallow than a mallet.
"You were the one who became friends with me at the party when no one knew me," he reminded her. "You came to help me when I got hurt and didn't abandon me. Yes...I think you're pretty."
Darn it, was that a sniffle? Surely she wasn't crying, he was being nice to her! Girls were crazy...they cried at the drop of a hat, when they were happy or sad, and then got mad at guys if they didn't know what was wrong. Or right. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine," she said, but her voice was wavering.
"Are you sure?" he asked, and started to try to peer around the curtain.
"Stay in that tub!" she ordered, her tone once again strong. He let the curtain fall back and sighed. Yup, she was fine.
"Hey Ash?" she said, more softly. "You never answered my question."
Ash furrowed his brow—darn girls and their ambiguous statements. He thought over the previous conversation and didn't remember any questions; he would have to risk an if you don't know then I'm not going to tell you answer. "What question?"
Misty was still calm; that was a good sign. "The one at the party."
Ash rolled his eyes...that cleared things up a lot. "Which one?...Oh." It dawned on him. Misty said it anyway, her voice meek.
"Do you have a crush on anyone?"
Oh boy. His hands started sweating. She did still like him. And since that was supposed to be a good thing, why was his heart pounding so hard? His brain knew he liked her back; now somebody just needed to tell his body that. He gulped. "I...I couldn't have answered you at the party anyway."
"Why not?"
"Because. I didn't know I did."
"What does that mean?" she asked, confused.
"It means..." Ash swallowed again, his mouth tasting dry. Misty was about to kill him or kiss him—he wasn't sure which was worse. "It's no fun liking someone who doesn't like you back."
"Ash..." she whispered. Uh-oh, sounded like the latter. He wished he had a breath mint. Especially knowing his next words.
"But if you find out that this person likes you...then you don't have to be scared to like them back."
He held his breath, waiting for her to speak. He had been a hypocrite; boys were just as crazy as girls, to go through this just to get a girl. Misty was quiet for an excruciatingly long time.
"How do I know you're not just saying that to make me feel better?" she finally said. She wasn't accusing, just timid.
Here it came...he was so nervous, he hoped he didn't throw up on Misty instead of kissing her. That would not be good. "I'll prove it," he said. "But you have to let me out of the tub first."
"Why?...Oh." It was her turn to be taken by surprise. She didn't answer.
"Misty?" he asked for permission again, and then cautiously moved the curtain. She didn't yell to stop him, so he dared to pushed it all the way off to the side and slowly stepped out of the tub.
He looked at her, and knew in an instant that he was forgiven. The anger in her face was gone, replaced with a look that was just as anxious as it was hopeful. That still didn't calm the nervous fluttering in his stomach, though. When she saw him looking at her, she bit her lip and offered him a quivering smile. He was almost knocked dizzy with a revelation—girls were just as scared of this 'liking' stuff as boys were. They sure hid it well. In a strange way this encouraged him—but not enough. He was sure his grin was just as shaky as he said, "I'm not very good at this..."
"You're supposed to close your eyes," Misty told him. There were rules to this? Good grief, he'd had enough trouble learning to tie his shoes. He'd never get the hang of kissing...
"You're the one sitting down. You close them first," Ash countered. Anything to delay the inevitable. Misty looked like she was about to protest, thought better of it, and then closed them. She held her breath. Ash gulped. Maybe if he waited long enough, she'd pass out from lack of oxygen...
No, he was going to do this. He took a deep breath and then leaned over and took her by the shoulders—she tensed at his touch, then relaxed when he squeezed her shoulders gently. Amazingly, it made him feel better to comfort her—he liked being the one to make her happy. Maybe there was more to this 'liking' stuff than he thought...it calmed him just enough that he gathered the courage to put his face closer to hers, and then took another deep breath, closed his eyes, and...
Click, then slam. The door crashed open.
"Hey, we finally got it....ALL RIGHT!"
At Tracey's whoop Ash and Misty immediately broke apart, Ash losing his balance and crashing backwards to land flat on his rear. His face went hot, and Misty's nearly matched her hair. He glared at the door to see Tracey, Brock, Angie, and Gary staring in at them with goofy expressions on their faces—and sheesh, even Pikachu had turned traitor, scurrying into the bathroom and giggling at his trainer's predicament. And Ash had thought the slumber party was bad. Misty stood up, still blushing furiously, but Ash stayed where he was. There was no point in standing; the other guys would make sure he died of embarrassment any position he was in.
"Took you long enough, Ashy-boy," Gary said, giving him a thumbs up.
"Aren't they cute?" Angie squealed.
"Almost as cute as you," Brock agreed.
"I've got to draw this!" Tracey exclaimed, and whipped out his sketchpad. "Hey Ash, could you do that again?"
Ash buried his head in his hands. This was all Brock's fault. He was going to kill Brock.
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A/n: Ack! Don't kill me yet, one more chapter to go...I haven't excluded the possibility of a kiss. But interrupted ones are funny to me! ^^ And we got a Gary cameo finally (Pikajenn, Arrow, are you still reading? That was for you... ^_~) This chapter is dedicated to Dana-chan, because we either have the same thought process or were separated at birth. And also because she's writing an Eldershipping fic, whoah-oh! Everyone read "Woke Up One Morning," because it's dedicated to me! Okay, okay, and Latonya Wright, but ya know...I get excited at seeing my name... ^_^
Oh, and I like these little surveys, and have forgotten to do them for the last two chapters, but E2K's comment reminded me to poll everyone for their favorite episode this chapter. I think it's apparent that I like "Pokémon Scent-sation"...I've only written two stories based off it. lol What's yours? Drop me a note in the review box, and see you next week!
Disclaimer: I don't own pokémon...or Angelstars, Latonya Wright, Spruceton Spook and Sharon M. for that matter. But I thought they deserved another plug, anyway. ^_^
