Blue Heaven
By Spruceton Spook
Part 19
Midnight Gala
"What about now? Can we dance now?" asked an impatient Misty for about the tenth time. The soft flicker of the tiki lanterns danced in her eyes and warmed her face with a golden hue.
Ash winced as he swallowed a piece of cake. He gazed out at the dozen or so couples on the dance floor, swaying to the flowing, upbeat rhythm of the standards that had replaced the wild pop and disco music of earlier afternoon.
"N-not yet," he replied, digging at the cake with his fork. "I'm not done with my cake yet. Can't you see?"
"Ash," Misty groaned, "that's the third piece of cake you've had!"
"'m hungwy!" Ash shrugged, his mouth full. "An' it's goo' cake!"
"How could you possibly be hungry?" Misty asked. "You had about three servings of dinner, not to mention all the appetizers before that. You're gonna explode!"
Ash narrowed his eyes, licking icing off his lips. "I'm growing."
"Yeah, to about two-hundred pounds by the time the night's over. Come on, can't we dance? You promised me we could dance after dessert."
As her voice peaked to a whine, Ash quavered. She wasn't going to let up, which was what he feared. Of course, he hadn't feared it the entire night. After they had set down for an hour at dinner, Ash was eager to do anything, even to go back to dancing. And they did; as the sun had begun to sink behind the mountains, and the first of the lanterns were being lit, the dance floor crammed with guests ready to dance the night away. Ash had fun leaping around to the pop and dance and the ever-energizing Electric Slide, but this...this was different.
Nobody was leaping around anymore. The music had softened. Everyone on that dance floor was connected, embracing, concentration set on the person before them rather than the invigorating stir of the music. It was...intimate.
He forced down another mouthful. "A-and we will, Misty. Okay? Just...finish your coffee and let me finish my cake, and we'll go out." The excuse didn't sound too feigned.
"Ash, I finished my coffee," Misty slurred. But Ash seemed to conveniently not hear her. It was also rather peculiar that he had suddenly gone from wolfing down his cake to delicately finishing it off in meager portions.
Oh, you! Misty sagged but smiled inwardly; she knew why Ash didn't want to go out there. It was clear as day, but as much as it irritated her, it made her body warm with endearment. You're so cute. All he needed was a bit of coaxing, and he'd go out there with her. That's what it all came down to. There was no way she would let the night end without their dance.
She knew what to do. "Fine, whatever," she grumbled. "If you're gonna sit there all night stuffing your face, then I'll get Brock to dance with me." She lifted herself out of her chair and craned her head to catch sight of Brock across the way, apparently engaged in a one-sided conversation with a very uninterested older girl.
"Brock!" she hollered. His head jerked at the sound of his name, but upon seeing Misty gesture frantically for him to come, promptly scowled and mouthed a "no." She scowled right back and beckoned him over grimly again. Brock shot her a very indignant hold-on-a-minute! look before adjusting his tie suavely and turning back to the girl.
"Uh, you're gonna hafta excuse me—" He didn't need to say anything further. He was talking to air.
His face reddening, he stomped over. "Gee, thanks a lot, Misty!" he hissed. "What do you want already? I was going to get a dance with her!"
"Yeah, sorry about that," Misty apologized impassively. "How about you dance with me instead, Brock?"
"What? Why?"
The disaffection in his voice made her start. "Why? You don't want to dance with me?" she asked, pained and stunned all at once.
"Oh! Oh, no no, I didn't mean that!" Brock sputtered. "Of course I'll dance with you! I—I just thought..." He trailed off, looking down at Ash shoveling another piece of cake into his mouth.
"Oh, Snorlax?" Misty said tartly. "He won't dance with me." That grabbed Ash's attention, but not before Brock spoke up incredulously.
"You won't dance with her?" He then smiled slyly. "What's wrong? You scared?"
Ash choked, struggling to swallow his food in order to defend himself.
Misty scoffed. "He cares more about his stomach than he does me."
"So what is that, like the tenth piece of cake you've had? Get up and dance with her!"
"No, it's the third!" Ash spat as soon as he swallowed, jumping to his feet. "And of course I'll dance with her, I'm not scared! I just had to finish my cake, and I did!"
"Hooray!" Misty cried joyfully, grabbing his wrist. "Good, then we can go dance! C'mon!" Within an instant, she was hauling him onto the dance floor.
Ash's testy glare quickly vanished as he realized the pitfall he had been led into. He didn't notice her turning to share a secretive thank-you wink with Brock, who returned it knowingly; he was nervously mindful of all the other people out there, his parents included. He was going to dance...in front of them? His excitability intensified as Misty stopped them, took his left hand in her right, and settled her other hand gently on his shoulder. Automatically, and despite his muddle, his other hand rested precisely where it belonged, grazing against the appealing smoothness of her dress.
"There we go," Misty grinned as they began to waltz spiritedly to the music. "Isn't this fun?"
Ash didn't have any time to grasp his bearings, but he managed to smile. "I guess," he shrugged.
"Well, either it is or it isn't," laughed Misty.
Ash continued to smile, but his eyes timidly wandered to his parents, rollicking in the center of the floor without a care in the world. His mother's smile lit her face in exhilaration; his dad was buoyant, practically gliding and bringing Delia along for the ride.
I want to be like that, too... "I—I dunno," he finally responded. "It's just that I've never danced like this before..."
"Aww! It's okay, Ash! You're doing great!" Misty assured.
"I am?" Ash brightened coyly.
"Of course you are!" she smiled. "You're not stepping on my feet. That's big."
Realizing this, Ash's smile grew, feeling significantly better with the simple praise. "I'd never step on your feet, Misty! Besides...I'm not moving my feet that much, anyway." He forced himself to admit the last part. His feet were barely lifting a centimeter off the ground, as if held back by stringy crazy glue.
Misty giggled. "That's okay. I like it just the way we're doing it."
"Really? Then I guess it is fun!" he proclaimed happily.
And it was the truth. In the few moments that followed, he was beginning to fall into the flow of the dance, letting the music drown out his uneasiness and arouse his feet. He squeezed her hand and stared into her shimmering eyes, and suddenly felt like he belonged out there.
"Thanks for coming out with me," Misty beamed. "I've been waiting all night for this."
"Ya have?" Ash didn't know why he sounded so shocked.
"Yeah. In fact—what am I saying? All night? I've been waiting forever to do this with you." Blushing, she looked away, clasping his hand a bit more strongly.
Ash smiled humbly, trying to fight away his own blush. "Well, I have to admit it, Misty. I wasn't really looking forward to dancing like this, but...I'm glad we are. I really like it."
"You were nervous?" she assumed.
Ash cringed. "Really nervous. And...I still kinda am, I guess. You know, with my parents probably watching us and all."
Misty twisted her head to look at Jay and Delia, but their attention was currently not on them. "And what's wrong with that? Are we forbidden to dance or something?" she chuckled.
"No, of course not!" replied Ash. "It's just—" He didn't want to say embarrassing, because it wasn't. He couldn't really find the word he was searching for to describe how he felt. What did it mean to be tense but proud at the same time?
"Just what?"
He paused awkwardly before saying, "Special." She cocked her head attentively, and he attempted to elaborate.
"It's special...kinda like when—well, like when you're opening presents on your birthday. It's a lot of fun, and it's exciting, but when everyone's watching you, and waiting for you to open the present and taking pictures and all that stuff, it feels...it makes you feel nervous, too, you know, with all those eyes on you watching you enjoy your special moment." Ash stopped and smiled uneasily, figuring he was making no sense.
But Misty smiled in comprehension. "Ash, I know exactly what you mean."
"You do?"
"Sure! I've kinda felt that way about our whole going-out thing in front of Brock. I'm so happy we're together, but after everything the three of us have been through together, it's weird...but it's special." She laughed as the word came up again. "Kinda like showing off but being embarrassed about it, too."
Ash couldn't believe what he was hearing. He felt nervous when it came to their relationship concerning Brock, but he never thought always-confident Misty felt the same way. They must have been putting on quite a show in front of their friend all these weeks.
"Sooo...then I guess it's special, huh?" he concluded redundantly.
"I guess it is," Misty agreed.
The song continued on, and with each passing second, Ash and Misty became lighter on their feet. Ash couldn't believe how much fun he was having, while Misty couldn't believe what a great dancer he was. She hadn't had much experience dancing herself, but Ash was smooth, graceful even—he didn't trip or shamble or drag his feet. She could feel that he was having a good time. They started to laugh loudly, their shrill, puerile voices declaring their dizzy enjoyment.
As the song blended into the next, neither showed any indication that they wanted to stop. Ash felt that he could dance forever with her. His legs were aching but his heart wanted to go on. He paid no heed to the mugginess of the humid night that seemed to swallow them whole, making his clothes damp with sweat. Happiness swarmed him, washing his mind of all the adverse events of the party as if they were just disposable figments of his imagination. And the familiar sound of the fresh song fed his energy all the more.
"Hey!" he exclaimed, his eyes widening in pleasant shock.
"Hey what?" Misty asked. Wisps of hair came loose from behind her ears, spilling over her perspiration-glazed face.
Ash answered her question as he began to sing along. "Whippoorwills call, evening is nigh, hurry to my blue heaven!"
Misty lit up. "You know this song?"
"'Course I do! My Blue Heaven."
"How d'you know it?"
"Give me a break, Misty! I grew up in my mother's house. I know all these songs!" Ash gleamed, then continued. "You'll see a smiling face, fireplace, cozy room, a little nest that nestles where the roses bloom..." Breathless from the dancing, his singing was choppy and slightly off-key, but ever so free and easy, making Misty giddy in hysterics.
"Oh my God, Ash!" she laughed, smacking his shoulder.
"What? You don't like my singing?" Ash giggled.
"No, I adore it!" Misty replied. "But you're probably making poor Frank Sinatra roll in his grave!"
Ash snubbed his nose in the air. "Yeah, right! He should be honored that I'm singing it! I love this song!" He rocked his head as he caught the end of the chorus, "Just Molly and me, and the baby makes three. We're so happy in myyy bluuue heaven!"
"Okay, okay, that's enough!" Misty had to catch her breath from laughing. Ash grinned, delighted that he made her laugh. His heart soared with indescribable rapture and satisfaction. They danced on.
"Actually," Misty said as soon as she could breathe, "you should love this song a whole lot more now." Her voice was abstrusely sentimental.
"Why's that?"
Gazing into his eyes for a moment, she declared, "It's the first full song we've ever danced to."
It took a moment for Ash to recall that they had begun dancing in the middle of the previous song. He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Hey, yeah. You're right, Misty."
"It's our song, isn't it?" she whispered, her teeth sparkling in the dim light.
Ash's smile went slack at the reality of this. Our song. All of sudden, an image sparked to his brain, if only for a split second: their wedding, their special dance, their song. A chill shot through him, and just as the final chorus of My Blue Heaven faded out, so did his eerie yet undeniably wonderful fantasy.
"I guess it is," he whispered in reply, his smile returning. Misty nodded slowly, and their eyes locked as they shared the extraordinary feeling of what they had just established. Neither doubted that My Blue Heaven would dissolve among the trivial events of the night.
"Ooookay, folks!" the DJ's dynamic voice purred. "We ask that you now clear the dance floor, because we've reached a very important part of this gorgeous evening. Thirteen years ago, a particular song brought two young lovebirds together, and tonight, we're all here to celebrate that love, to see and share in the happiness and joy it's brought this special couple out here."
Ash watched as his mother's face colored with slight embarrassment, dumping her head into Jay's chest. He embraced her with a laugh and kissed the top of her head as they stumbled around giddily.
"So here it is," the DJ continued, "the song that means so much to Jay and Delia, and exclusively for them." The bright spotlights from the DJ's booth dimmed idyllically, and Stars Fell on Alabama began to play. The other couples scurried off the dance floor.
"Uh-oh," Ash said hurriedly. The sweet tempo of the song that held such importance in his life flooding his ears, his stomach flip-flopped. "We'd better get off!"
Misty's eyes flared excitedly, as if they were about to get caught in mischief. "Yeah, you're right!"
Ash grabbed her hand, but as they started to trot off the dance floor, a voice called out, almost as a hiss, above the silvery tune. "Ash! Misty!"
They halted dead in their tracks, spinning around to find Delia and Jay, already joined in dance, grinning at them. Delia's face radiated.
"Stay," she bid. Jay nodded accordingly.
The two kids gawked, not knowing what to make of the invitation. Standing out in the middle of the otherwise empty dance floor, the rest of the party witnessing their blundering confusion, suddenly made them tremble in vulnerability.
"Stay?" Ash mouthed to his mom, his face skewed in panic. Delia nodded, then rested her head on her husband's broad chest.
"I...I think they want us to dance, too," Misty stammered.
"Dance?" Ash gasped, alarm gripping him. She answered in a way he wouldn't have expected. Without warning, she grappled him in the dancing stance, leaving him with no choice but to accept. He fumbled to find himself, but quickly began to dance with her, albeit clumsily. His heart was thumping out of his chest.
"We—we shouldn't be out here!" he whispered frantically. He could hear the soft murmur of the voices surrounding them, the audience that brought a flaming blush to his cheeks. He couldn't even look.
"But your parents want us out here," Misty whispered back. "We can't leave!" Despite this, a jittery smile pried at her lips as her head retracted into her shoulders. Her eyes looked desperate to stray but remained glued on Ash's.
"I—I know, but—"
"Shhh," Misty told him. A short laugh escaped her, and she squeezed his hand in reassurance. "It's okay. Just dance!"
Dancing was the last thing Ash wanted to do, but he complied. At once, the cumbersome burden that had afflicted his feet two songs ago returned, and his entire body clamped up. Although it was his mother's request that was the reason for them being out there, it just didn't feel right. This was their song—he and Misty didn't belong out there! It was supposed to be special for them.
It wasn't just that, however, and Ash immediately admitted to himself what was causing him the most distress.
"Misty," he mumbled under this breath. He scanned the crowd briefly. He wasn't sure if it was merely his tormenting imagination, but more eyes seemed to be directed at them rather than his parents. He could almost hear their thoughts: Awww, look at how cute! Aren't they sweet? He shuddered neurotically. "Everyone's watching us..."
"I know," Misty squeaked, hiding her face in Ash's shoulder. She was smiling, however, the thrill of the moment making her spine tingle. "Just don't look at them. Dance!"
"I wanna get off!" Ash persisted, but Misty hushed him.
"No, we can't! Your mom wants this. You'll hurt her feelings if we get off."
"But, Misty! I—I—" His words floundered. How could he tell her straight out that he couldn't bear to be seen this way? That no matter how much he enjoyed being with her, this was crossing the line? Up to that point, he loved dancing with her; he couldn't put into words how amazing it felt to hold her, be close to her, and romp around to great music all at once. But he had one solid word for what was happening now: mortification.
Reluctantly, he stole another glance at their audience, and had the unfortunate luck to spot Brock within its midst. There was a smile on his face, but as much as Ash feared, it wasn't one of teasing. It seemed almost...fond. At least he thought it was. He yanked his head back before he could get a chance to really scrutinize. His dread was visible.
"Ash, it's okay," Misty laughed lightly. She didn't feel entirely comfortable, either, but it looked as though Ash was ready to pass out. "Relax. This is fun!"
"It's not fun!" Ash hastily responded. "I—I mean, it is, but—but Misty, everyone's looking at us! They're watching us, I'm so embarrassed!" His face burned bright red. A blinding flash from a camera made him start.
Misty smiled. "Don't look at them," she repeated. "Look at me. Come on, let's enjoy this! Your mom's not doing this to embarrass us; she wants us to have fun! We're dancing to their song, Ash! We should be honored!"
Honored, horrified—same difference to him. It didn't matter what song they were dancing to. Ash could feel his innards twisting.
"Look at your parents," Misty whispered, another attempt to free his mind.
"My parents," he echoed, almost like he was in a daze. Inadvertently drawing closer to Misty, he threw a side-long glance at his parents. He couldn't get over how peaceful they were, how much they were indulging in the moment. Delia still had her head pillowed against Jay's chest, her arm looped loosely around his shoulders. Her eyes shut, she could've been mistaken for being asleep if not that her lips were moving along to the words of the song. Jay was just as content, and ducked his head to whisper something in her ear. Delia giggled, opening her eyes to gaze up at him, and they exchanged a short but deeply felt kiss.
They're having such a good time, Ash noted. They're so happy...even if everyone is watching them. They weren't afraid or embarrassed. It was like they weren't even aware that they were the party's current spectacle. Ash smiled as he watched them kiss again, dancing languidly in spite of the fact that Stars Fell on Alabama was not a particularly slow song. For the moment, he even forgot that he was dancing, too. He just loved to see them that way...
"Ash, sing," Misty suddenly said, wrenching him from his reverie.
"Huh?"
"Sing," she smiled. "I wanna hear you." Ash was brought back down to earth, and instantly his eyes lifted to inspect the gathering. She wanted him to sing? This was getting to be way too much now.
"Misty, I can't—" he began shakily.
"No, please?" she begged, her smile curving kittenishly. "It was so nice when you sang before. Please do it again."
How could he deny such a request? It was her glowing smile that captivated him, made the world around him blur. He could still feel the tender stares, but the impact her imploring eyes had on him made them suddenly negligible. Gulping, Ash achieved a wobbly grin, and began to sing, though not in the most harmonious fashion.
"My heart beat just like a hammer, m-my arms wound around you tight, and stars fell on Alabama last night..." His voice shook as he sung, but it didn't matter one way or another to Misty. The smile on her face broadened.
"Bet your heart is beating like a hammer," she said.
"More like a sledgehammer, if you ask me."
"Ash," Misty sighed, "you don't have to be nervous." Her voice was flowing and gentle.
"But Misty," Ash cringed, "I can't help it. How—how can you not be nervous? All these people are watching us..." Just the thought of it made him look down at his feet, the only place where he didn't need to face the guests or Misty.
"I know, it's a little awkward," Misty admitted. "But aren't you getting over it by now?"
Ash didn't lift his head. He didn't want to answer her question, either, because it wouldn't be the answer she wanted. All at once, he realized he was alone out there. Always-confident Misty was back. How did she do it? How could she ever manage to adjust to a situation like this? Ash wanted to know her secret—he needed to know.
"How do you do it, Misty?" He lifted his head to stare seriously into her eyes.
"What? Dance in front of all these people?"
"W-well, yeah. But not just that. How do you do it...you know, all the time? I mean, like now and—and whenever we kiss or we go out, y-you're never afraid of anyone seeing us, or nervous about it. You—you're always so...so fearless. You're not afraid to try new things, or—or talk about the future and things...things I would never dare talk about—like—like having kids and stuff..." He chuckled uneasily while she just grinned, hanging on his every word. He caught his breath, then added inaudibly, "I just don't know how you do it."
For a moment, she speechlessly contemplated an answer to a question she herself needed to elucidate. Finally, she gave him a crooked smile. "Actually," she said carefully, "it's not really how I do it...it's why I do it." She tried to bite back a smile. "Ash, there's a reason why I do stuff like this."
He stared at her, intrigued, and all of a sudden, she was blushing.
"It's why...it's why I can go on all these dates with you, and not care if you're clumsy, or that they're not entirely 'perfect.' And it's why I'm not afraid to kiss you in public, even though I won't ever until you're ready. And—and it's why I don't mind sleeping in the sitting room with those freaky pictures of your grandparents. It's why that no matter how much I was trying to convince myself I wanted to see you lose to Gary today, I wanted you to win. It's why I felt so bad for you when I saw how mad your dad was after the battle, even though I should've been glad that you got caught. It's why—why I've been traveling with you since the beginning, even though sometimes you can be the most annoying person in the world. And it's why...it's why I can dance with you in front of all these people and...and not be embarrassed."
By now, Ash was entranced, both by her lengthy recital and the way she was presenting it. It was hard for her to keep a straight face—not out of silliness, of course, but because what she was saying was overtly syrupy as much as it was serious. It was all leading up to something, Ash was sure of it, and whatever that was he was somewhat nervous of, just as Misty was clearly nervous of saying it. Forcing the hesitant word to his lips, he shivered.
"Why?"
A trembling but emotional smile lifted Misty's face, and she shrugged slightly, as if the answer was obvious. "Because I love you," she whispered.
The air in Ash's lungs was held stiffly as his body seemed to paralyze. All but his mind—it swelled, dizzy with endless thoughts coursing through it, each bearing the weight of Misty's four breathless words. Of course, she had told him other times that she loved him...but never like that, never more than just a casual, friendly remark. There was more in those words than there ever was before.
Ash knew he had to say something back, but the only thing his delirium allowed him was to seek clarification. "Y...you do?"
Her heart surging both from her passionate confession and the luster of humbled awe in his eyes, Misty's smile illuminated. "Mm-hmm," she nodded.
Ash swallowed the huge lump in his throat, and a tottering smile emerged on his face. "M-misty, I...well, I..." he started, not knowing at all how to finish. He wasn't sure if he could ever find the right words. Nothing was more powerful—and matchless—than what she had just told him.
Misty sensed his struggle, but contrary to Ash's immediate worry, it didn't disillusion her. Delicately, she reached up and covered his mouth with her hand.
"It's okay," she mollified him. "You don't have to say anything."
Ash's breathing was now steady but hard, shooting out warm and sharply against her hand. She could feel him ease under her touch. Taking her hand away, she revealed his smile, crooked with relief and benumbed delight.
"Just dance with me," she said, resting her head on his shoulder.
Ash accepted the closer embrace, wrapping his arm around her more tightly. He rested his head beside hers, his cheek brushing against her smooth, glossy hair and loving the feel of it. The four words continued to float wonderfully in his head, making his stomach dance elatedly, the four most amazing words she'd ever said to him.
Across the way, the two had gained another audience. Smiling fondly at what he was witnessing, Jay nudged Delia gently, and she lifted her head from his shoulder inquiringly.
"Look," he whispered, nodding in the kids' direction. Delia turned, and a doting smile came effortlessly.
"Oh my," she said, a hand covering her mouth. By then, both of the kids' eyes were shut, and they were swaying to the music gracefully and even a bit idly, completely absorbed in their own world of snug companionship.
"Oh Jay, they're so sweet," she gushed quietly.
"I know," he agreed. "Makes you kinda jealous, doesn't it?"
Delia gave him a silly face. "We're the ones who just got married!"
"I mean to be young again," Jay clarified.
That earned him another face. "Who's not young?" she demanded playfully.
"Oops! Me, babe, me," Jay laughed, leaning over to share a kiss with his wife.
"That's what I thought," she replied confidently. "Though I have to admit, this song brings back memories that feel like ages ago."
"And will continue to make memories for ages to come?" Jay raised his eyes.
As sappy as he said it, Delia couldn't hope for anything more. "For ages to come, yes," she replied, and they kissed again.
Ash opened his eyes just in time to see his parents break away from their kiss. He took a deep, reveling breath, not knowing what made him feel more wonderful—dancing with Misty or seeing his parents as happy as he had ever seen them. The two combined, however, made his heart soar with rapture.
As Delia settled her head back on his shoulder, Jay turned, and his eyes found Ash's. His son flinched suddenly, smiling embarrassingly at being caught watching them so affectionately, but he never tore his gaze away. He could feel his body tingle with pride as his dad gave him a nod and a praiseworthy thumbs-up from behind Delia's back.
At that, Ash beamed luminously, and returned with a spunky thumbs-up of his own. "Thank you," he mouthed to him. His dad winked, then went back to finish the dance with Delia.
Before they knew it, the song drew to a close, and the crowd ruptured with applause. Ash and Misty broke apart slightly, a brilliant blush streaking across their noses. A few hoots and whistles rang out, but neither of them needed to search the throng to know they originated from Brock. Ash couldn't even muster the guts to observe the crowd, much less his catcalling friend. Instead, he subtly surveyed Misty's radiant face and her crystal eyes that, unlike his, were roaming the audience modestly. He held her hands loosely and just stared at her, gazed at her. Wondering if he could ever tell her how he felt in a way that would leave at least half the size of the impact she left on him that night...if that was at all possible.
But until he found a way of accomplishing that, he hung on the memory of every word that had escaped her lips, the air of her impeccable happiness, the sight of her dazzling smile and beautiful face, the declaration that flew through him over and over and over again.
I love you, too.
Two hours later, the music stopped and the DJ packed up. The yard was still lively with chatter and laughter, which gradually tapered off over the next hour or so. By eleven-thirty, the last of the guests were on their way home, leaving the Oak property bare in the wake of a bustling day, as quiet and tranquil as it had been at sunrise.
Everywhere but the house.
"Can I please have another glass? Or just a tiny bit more? Pleeeease?" Ash begged in between an unstoppable fit of giggles.
"No, Ash," Professor Oak answered. He was doing all he could to hold the champagne bottle out of Ash's reach. The boy was perched on his tippy-toes, a smile extending his cheeks as he imploringly held his glass out for more. "You've already had enough. Be happy I let you have that much."
Ash slumped, but the smile was far from gone. "Oh c'mon, why not? Just a little bit more? Just a splash," he said, repeating a line his mom always used when she asked his dad to pour her more wine at dinner. With that, he executed the infamous puppy-dog look, his messy black hair falling over his glistening eyes.
"You've had enough," Professor Oak repeated pointedly. It was only after he had poured Ash a glass—and Ash had helped himself to seconds—that he learned it wasn't his first alcoholic beverage of the day. And it wasn't hard to believe that now—Ash was flying. "No more, not even a splash."
"Just a splash?" Ash grinned like a madman.
"No."
"Please?"
"No! Ash, what are you—stop it!" He held the bottle even further away as Ash tried to make a grab for it, leaning over the counter with fingers wiggling. Professor Oak just shook his head in amazement, throwing a quick glance at the other three kids and Pikachu sitting on the couch, smiling at Ash's antics.
"Is he always like this at midnight?" he asked, shocked.
Brock shrugged, laughing. "Only when he's on a caffeine or sugar rush. Or, uh, an alcohol rush."
"Which isn't normal for this time of night, believe it or not," Misty added, bouncing wide-awake Togepi on her knee. She laughed through a cringe as Ash's hand slid out from underneath him on the glossy counter surface, and he almost fell to the kitchen floor.
"Yeah, he's usually in bed by now," Brock said. "You've got him in rare form tonight, Professor."
Professor Oak rolled his eyes. "Lucky me," he said, Ash still dancing around him dizzily in hopes of securing another glass of champagne. He realized a bit too late what a mistake it was to offer the kids a final glass before bed in celebration of a wonderful day. Well, one-fourth of the kids, at least.
"Can I pleeeeeease have more?" Ash requested.
"No! No more alcohol for you tonight. You're going crazy." He quickly strode over to the refrigerator, Ash trailing, and placed the champagne atop it, then went in and pulled out a pitcher. "Here, have some fruit juice instead," he said, plunking it down on the counter.
"No, I don't want that!" Ash fussed. He tried to reach for the champagne, which resulted in the professor pushing it back further. "It's not tingly!"
"Then I'll put some club soda in it," Professor Oak said exasperatedly. He flipped his tie over his shoulder and began to rummage through the fridge while Ash continued to hop on his toes, winking craftily at his friends across the room.
Misty couldn't help but shake her head through the hilarity. "Aww, Ash, leave Professor Oak alone! Just come sit down!"
"But I'm thirsty, Misty!" he stamped his foot. He watched as Professor Oak took out the club soda and scowled. "I don't like juice."
"He's lying!" Brock said.
Ash's eyes widened. "Brock!"
"He has it every morning!" He gave Ash, whose hands were now on his hips, a smirk, taking a sip of his own champagne mockingly.
Professor Oak paused, holding both beverages. "Am I pouring this for you, Ash?"
Ash wrinkled his nose, and shook his head. "Nah."
"Fine," he sighed, putting them back in the refrigerator.
"Actually, on second thought, I do want it," Ash said, receiving a disgruntled look from the professor. "What?" he grinned, shrugging innocently. A smile jerked at the corners of Professor Oak's lips.
"Well, you know what? You're not getting anything now. Come on," he bid, giving him a push towards the couch. "Go sit with your friends. How come they're not bugging me?" Misty, Brock, and Tracey arched themselves proudly at that.
"But I want more!" Ash whined, giggling again. He planted his feet firmly on the floor, leaving Professor Oak to huff in surprise at just how strong the kid was. His friends stifled their laughter, which, of course, Ash noticed, encouraging his mischief further.
"You're not getting any more!" Professor Oak insisted. The aggravation in his tone was there, but it didn't hide the amusement that helplessly arose from Ash's humorous show. He was biting back his own laughter.
"Ash, come on," Misty chuckled, patting the couch cushion beside her. Tracey scooted over a bit to make more room. "Come sit down. Let's talk about today."
Ash pouted, but skipped over and plopped down beside her, the couch springs groaning and squeaking under his weight. It was enough to make Togepi cheep in alarm and Pikachu almost topple off the back of the couch.
"Geez, Ash!" Brock cried as his nose was splashed with champagne. "Calm down!"
Misty swiped the glass from Ash's hand. "I think we should take this away from you," she teased.
"Hey!" Ash yelped, leaning over in attempt to reclaim it but failing. "But I'm gonna get more!"
"No, you aren't," Professor Oak shook his head. He settled onto one of the bar stools at the counter, rubbing his temples wearily. In all honestly, he had no idea where Ash got so much energy after such a long day—alcohol aside. "You know, I should've suspected something when your mother approached me innocently, asking if you kids could spend the night."
"She didn't know I'd be like this," Ash grinned.
"Oh, she didn't?" Professor Oak smirked, finding that hard to believe. As soon as Jay and Delia left and even before the champagne, Ash had been bouncing off the walls. "You mean, she thought she was leaving me with an exhausted kid ready to go to bed?"
"Yup! But you got me, instead! Isn't that great?"
The professor dumped his head in his hand. "She never ceases to amaze me with the tricks up her sleeve."
"Yeah, she's pretty good," Ash agreed. The giggles took him over again. "But this'll be fun! We can stay up all night and talk about pokémon and the party and all that good stuff!"
"How about going to bed?"
Ash bobbed up and down on the couch tumultuously. "Are you kidding? I'm not tired at all! I could go all night like this!"
Professor Oak's head rolled in his palm again. "And I thought my grandchildren were bad."
"You think this is bad?" Tracey exclaimed. "You should've seen him earlier today—before dessert!"
"Oh, yeah!" Misty chimed, her hand flying to her mouth to keep her chortling in. "It was so funny! He got to the sugar cubes when they first put them out. We had to lock him in the bathroom to calm him down!"
Ash burst into uproarious laughter. "That was great!"
"No, that was ridiculous," Brock disputed, though he was smiling. "How many did you have, anyway?"
"Ummm, eight, I think?" Ash recalled whimsically.
"Eight!" Misty remarked.
"Yeah, talk about a rush!" he cringed. "If you hadn't locked me in there, who knew how crazy I'd've gone!"
"I don't even want to think about it," Misty said.
"I wouldn't imagine the bathroom to be the safest place to lock him," Professor Oak arched an amused eyebrow.
"Nah, Ash was too dumb to hurt himself in there," snickered Misty, drawing a glower from her boyfriend.
"Hey, let's just be happy that Ash decided to go on a sugar rush instead of starting another pokémon battle in the middle of the party," Brock remarked. The others hooted while Ash hid his crimson face in his hands.
"Just when I was beginning to forget about that!" he cried, giving his hysterical friend a shove.
"Aw, Ash, you don't have to worry," Misty consoled facetiously, throwing her arms around his shoulders. "We'll always be here to remind you about it if you forget."
"Gee, thanks a lot," Ash mumbled huffily, folding his arms. He did everything he could to force his smile away.
"Oh, look at that," Professor Oak marveled jokingly. "You got him to calm down."
That remark breaking Ash's will, he leapt up friskily and clutched his fists. "Can I have more champagne?"
Professor Oak groaned just as the telephone began to ring, making their heads rise all at once. "I bet I know who that is," he said to Ash.
"Mom?" he squealed happily.
"Well, I can't think of anyone else calling at this time of night," Professor Oak replied as Ash dashed to the telephone.
"Mama!" he answered it excitedly.
"Wouldn't it be funny it wasn't her?" Brock mused, drawing quiet chuckles from the rest.
But Brock was wrong. As the vid-phone's screen lit up, they all witnessed a very startled Delia reel back.
"How did you know it was me?" she giggled. All ready for the night, she was dressed in her pajamas, and the remainder of her beautifully set hair was gathered up in a sloppy ponytail.
"I know this stuff," Ash replied perkily.
"Oh, really?" Delia arched an eye at him. "Well, I know things, too. Just like I happened to know you wouldn't be in bed!" Her voice lowered to a scolding tone, but good-naturedly.
Ash bounced. "I can't go to bed, Ma! I'm not tired!"
"But it's midnight! What are you doing over there, anyway?"
"Drinking champagne!" he blurted freely. In the background, the others covered their faces and moaned.
Delia was silent for a second, a skeptical grin prying at her lips. Seeing her son, positively aglow, jumping in front of the screen giddily, she put two and two together. "Ash Ketchum, are you drunk?" she gasped.
Ash cowered, his eyes darting around innocently. "Um, noooo..."
"I think you are!" she begged to differ.
"Well, maybe just a little," Ash said, pinching his index finger and thumb together. He didn't remain the least bit ashamed, flashing his teeth in a tremendous smile.
"Oh, dear. What did I tell you about drinking anything else today? You're young, Ash—it takes more for adults to get drunk than a little boy like you, you know. You shouldn't've had as much as you did! I didn't even like your father giving you that beer, and now look at you! Smiling like a little goon!" she shook her head.
"Don't worry, Mom. I'm not driving anywhere tonight," Ash bubbled.
Delia couldn't hold back her laughter. "You rascal. No more tonight, you hear me? I don't want you getting sick."
"Professor Oak won't give me any more," Ash sulked. "He's mean."
"Good!" nodded Delia commendably. "But he has to be a little meaner and make you go to bed. When were you planning on doing that, mister?"
"Um, just as you called."
"Sure you were," she narrowed her eyes at him knowingly. "I mean it, Ash, I want you in bed. Dad and I are leaving at nine AM sharp tomorrow morning, whether you're up or not. You don't wanna miss us now, do you?"
Ash pretended to be hurt. "I would never miss something like that!"
"Oh, just like you would never miss getting your first pokémon?" Misty suddenly piped in.
"Oh, good one, Misty!" Brock congratulated her, the two slapping a high-five. Ash grumbled, shooting them a glare.
"Okay, Ash," Delia yawned. "Just wanted to check up on you, and I guess it was a very good idea. I'm gonna go, and I'm expecting you to go to bed right away. All right?"
"Sure, Mommy," he nodded, his head flopping back and forth.
"And no more alcohol!"
"No more alcohol," Ash assured, spinning around. "Right, Professor?"
"Don't worry, Delia," Professor Oak called, leaning over to give her a promising look. "He's in good hands. I'll lock my liquor cabinet tonight. You can sleep peacefully."
Delia looked satisfied. "Why, thank you! Will you make him go to bed, too?"
"I'll do it, Mrs. K!" Brock volunteered, hoisting his champagne glass.
"Me too!" Misty said.
"And me!" Tracey said.
Delia laughed. "Thanks, kids. Ash, you listen to them now."
"What!? I don't have to listen to them! They can't tell me to go to bed!" he cried indignantly.
His mother laughed. "They're older than you," was her playful reasoning.
"Yeah, Ash!" Brock pointed sternly at him. "Respect your elders!"
"Yeah!" Misty growled, adding to their fun.
"Oh yeah?" huffed Ash. "Well, respect this!" He pulled his eyelid down and stuck his tongue out.
"Hey!" Delia snapped though a chuckle. "That's enough of that. You need to calm down, which means go—to—bed. Don't complain to me tomorrow that you have a headache."
Ash looked confused. "Why will I have a headache?" Groans resounded from behind him.
"Let's hope you won't if you go to bed," Delia winked.
"Okay, okay, I'm going!" Ash gave in, waving his arm around.
"And calm down."
"I will!"
"Okay." Delia smiled fondly. "Good night, honey."
"Night, Mom," Ash replied, the two blowing a kiss to the screen.
"Love you."
"Love you, too."
"Nine AM!"
"Okay! Don't worry about it!"
"And no more drinking!"
"Mo-om! I won't."
She blew him another kiss. "All right. Bye!"
"Bye!" Ash hung the phone up and promptly collapsed to the floor.
Misty started to laugh. "Ash! Your mom said to go to bed, but not on the floor!"
"If I knew you were going to be so easy to put up, I wouldn't have prepared a bed for you," Professor Oak said.
Ash moaned like he was croaking, rolling onto his back and sprawling out. Pikachu went over and settled in a comfortable little ball on his trainer's belly.
"Come on, Ash," Tracey prompted. "You really should go to bed. You look wiped."
"Yeah, get up," Brock agreed. "It's been a long day."
Misty rose from the couch, arching her back to get the cricks out. Exhausted herself, she couldn't wait to hit the sack. "C'mon, Ash," she sang, poking him with her foot. "Let's get ready for bed before your mom calls again and finds you're still up."
"Meh. She won't call again," Ash smiled, shutting his eyes.
"I wouldn't bet on that," Brock smirked. "At least get into your pajamas in case she does so it'll look like you're making an attempt."
Yawning, Ash contemplated it. "I would like to get ready...but I don't think I can get up."
"Ash," Brock rose from the couch, "please don't make me drag you. I'm too tired."
"Maybe if we kick him once real good, he'll get up," suggested Misty, sticking her tongue out and bringing her foot back threateningly. Ash just opened one eye and grinned, daring her to do it. Misty gave him the same grin and waved her raised foot around.
"Actually, Misty, I wouldn't go kicking him if I were you," Tracey said a bit warily. "I mean, he did have all that champagne..."
Brock's face paled. "Hey, yeah. And he did eat all that food earlier..." he added nervously, catching on to Tracey's admonition. Misty's eyes widened in realization, while Ash looked up at them, bewildered.
"Okay, Ash, I really think you should get up now," Professor Oak jumped up hastily, suddenly wondering just how much the boy's young system could handle his drinking inaugural. "I don't need you damaging that new carpet I put on the stairs."
"Why would I—?" Ash's eyes became round upon his own realization. "Ohhhhh!" He sat up swiftly, and they all lurched in dread. "You guys think I'm gonna throw up?"
"Well, if you go sitting up like that, you just might!" Professor Oak warned, clutching his hair. "Now come on. If you go to bed, you'll be fine."
Tracey extended his hand down to Ash and helped hoist him to his feet. At that moment, Ash staggered, his face falling in a sickly manner.
"Oh man," he groaned, hunching over and clutching his stomach.
"Oh, no!" Misty exclaimed, panicking.
"Oh, great! Somebody get the garbage can, quick!" Professor Oak barked, and immediately, the room was helter-skelter.
But just as everyone began to scatter chaotically, Ash stood up straight, smiling broadly. "Nah, I'm just joking you guys!" he chirped.
They all halted and gawked at him, their shoulders slumping in aggravation.
"Ash!" Misty chided. "Don't scare us like that!" Ash just responded by doubling over with laughter, proving that, without a doubt, he felt fabulous. Maybe a little too fabulous, for that matter.
"Throwing up is nothing to joke about!" Brock grumbled.
"Yes, especially with my new carpet!" said Professor Oak. He returned from the kitchen area briskly with a plastic mixing bowl in his hands. "Here," he said, handing it to Ash. "Keep that just in case. I don't trust you anymore."
"No, I won't throw up, I promise!" Ash managed to say as he tried to catch his breath, offering the bowl back to him.
"Easier said than done," Professor Oak sighed. "Just keep it. It won't hurt."
Ash grinned, placing the bowl over his head. "Can I wear it?" he asked excitedly.
Professor Oak, too tired to deal with any more of Ash's wild behavior, waved it away indifferently. "Sure," he yawned. "Just as long as you go to bed."
"Yeah, Ash. It's really getting late now," Misty encouraged, taking his hand.
"Awww, but Misty, I don't wanna!" Ash was whining now, dragging his feet slightly as she tried to lead him towards the stairs.
"Too bad, you have to," Brock snorted with a grin, cocking his head authoritatively.
Ash shot him another glare, which wasn't entirely playful. "Says who?"
"Tell you what, Ash," a fed-up but clever Professor Oak answered. "If you go to bed right now, first thing tomorrow morning I'll give you your new Pokédex. What do you say?"
Ash left a trail of dust behind him.
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
Hehe, I loved writing this chapter.
Oh, and-err, disclaimer? Do I need one? Well, just in case, I don't own the fabulous song "My Blue Heaven." Uh…I don't know who owns it, ehehe. It ain't Ash and it ain't me, that's all I know. ;; Same goes for "Stars Fell on Alabama," too, of course. And all the other unrevealed songs they were listening to at the reception. You can have fun and create your own soundtrack for that.
Thanks for reading!
