A/N: Hey everyone! Contrary to popular belief, I AM alive! Yes, I know I said that I would try to get this out sooner. And yes, I know that that was in March. Heh. Please, forgive me. I was hoping that I would get a chance to write during the summer… which I did. But, it was, err… for another fandom (Teen Titans). Heh. My apologies! I found this chapter half-written on my hard drive and then felt really guilty about not continuing this fic - plus, I checked my email, and a couple of people reviewed, which made me feel even MORE guilty. So here you go!

Dedicated to all those who read and reviewed the first two chapters. Seriously, without all of you, this would DEFINITELY have stayed half-written on my hard drive!

And so the moral of the story is -- if you ever want me to pick up a fic and finish writing it, just bug me about it, I'll feel guilty, and tah-dah!

All disclaimers can be found on Part One.

Heh. OK, onto the story!

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Operation: MATCHMAKER
By: xSPiNx
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Chapter Three: A Friendly Wager
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"We're finally here!" Ash dropped his bags and ran excitedly to the front door, Pikachu bobbing uncontrollably on his head.

"Pika!" The pokemon squealed excitedly, enjoying the ride.

After a day of backpacking and camping through Viridian Forest, the trio of pokemon trainers had finally made it to Pallet. And in just enough time. Misty had had about enough with all the weirdness that had been taking place.

For one, Ash had been acting exceptionally weirder than usual. Whenever she asked him exactly why they were traveling to Pallet Town, he would shoot her a goofy smirk and a mysterious answer of "You'll see, Misty." And both of these things could infuriate a girl to no end, especially when stuck in the forest. And, with no outlet to vent her frustration in the forest, Misty was this close to taking out her mallet, whacking first, and asking questions later.

And two, Brock was acting about as weird as Ash was! He was acting very sneakily, and Misty suspected that he was hiding something as well. He would disappear every so often with lame excuses, and come back acting more suspicious than ever.

Pair that with the sudden disappearance of Team Rocket, (whom she had seen daily for the past couple of years), and Misty didn't know what to think. She was just glad that she finally had somewhere to stay with a soft bed, a hot shower, and most importantly, a sane mind. Sure, Mrs. Ketchum's constant reminders to Ash to change his underwear were a tad bit… excessive, but right now, Misty was not going to be picky.

Plus, it would be nice to have another female to talk to.

"Ash!" Mrs. Ketchum's warm voice could melt a glacier. "How are you? How was the trip? Are you hungry? Do you have enough money?" She stopped her assault of questions for a split second to try and fix Ash's messy hair. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Ash's companions. "Brock, Misty!" She cried, her arms outstretched. "How have you been? I'm so glad that you were able to make it!"

"We're good, Mrs. Ketchum." Misty replied, beaming. Ash's mom had the unmistakable air of a parent. She always wanted to make sure that everyone and everything was taken care of.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Come in!" She beckoned, extending her arm towards the door. "I was expecting everyone to arrive a little bit later, but it'll only take me a minute to fix you something to eat."

"Oh no, it's fine mom-"

"Nonsense! Growing kids like you need to have something to eat!"

"You're right, Mrs. Ketchum," Brock cut in quickly, a sly glint in his eyes. "Lemme give you a hand in the kitchen. Ash and Misty can get settled down. And, you know what?" Brock shot Ash and Misty a sugar coated smile. "Ash can even give Misty a tour of the house!"

Mrs. Ketchum's eyes lit up. "Yes, that's a fantastic idea! Ash, would you mind…?"

"But, mom--"

"Thank you, Ash," Mrs. Ketchum added, her smile unwavering. Ash sighed. He knew better than to disobey his mother. Plus, the sooner he could get out of there without his mother reminding him to change his underwear the better.

"It would be my pleasure," Ash nodded grudgingly.

"Misty will be staying in the guest room," Mrs. Ketchum added helpfully, ignoring her son. "Brock, you can put your things in Ash's room."

This statement hung in the air for a moment as Ash thought about it. "Wait a minute," he finally replied. "My room? So where am I going to sleep?"

Mrs. Ketchum had everything thought of. "I've set up a futon in your room, Ash, so you can share with Brock." Brock's eyes lit up mischievously at this, but no one noticed. Mrs. Ketchum continued. "It should be just like when you camp out!" She disappeared behind the counter as she bent over to gather her various cooking supplies. When she reappeared, her arms were overflowing with ladles, pots, pans, and other utensils. Ash could barely see her from beyond the mountain of cookware. In fact, if he didn't know better, he would have thought that the massive mound of pots were talking to him.

Ash scratched his head. Now there was a thought. He wondered if there were some weird, undiscovered pokemon that resembled pots and pans. After all, there were things that resembled rocks, animals, plants… so why not cookware? And if it existed, he had the perfect name for it: Potosaurus. Or something like that…

Suddenly, the giant mound of cookware started talking, and Ash jumped nearly a foot in the air. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Sighing deeply, Ash turned slowly to Misty, who was leaning awkwardly against the kitchen counter. "You can follow me," Ash grumbled again. He started walking up the stairs to the second floor, but a light tugging at his right leg stopped him. He looked down and was greeted by a stern looking Pikachu, who looked like someone had just stolen his prized bottle of ketchup.

Ash suddenly felt guilty, although he had no idea why. He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Pi pika, pikachu? (Shouldn't you help her with that?)" Pikachu's eyes shot quickly to Misty's belongings. Her book bag lay at her feet, it's pockets bulging with supplies. Alongside it was a slightly larger bundle which appeared to house some of Misty's clothes, as well as camping equipment including her tent. Misty struggled in vain to lift them herself, and almost succeeded, but the balancing act proved to be futile, and the bags came crashing down back to the floor.

Ash sighed. "Aww, but Pikachu…"

"Pikapi… (Ash…)" Pikachu growled, the red sacs of static electricity on his cheeks glowing dangerously.

"You wouldn't."

"Pi, pika. (Oh, I would.)"

"Look, Pikachu," Ash hissed, "If she made it through the forest with all that stuff, she can make it up the stairs to the guest room."

"Pikapi! (Ash!)" Pikachu scolded sharply. The static from the pokemon's cheeks continued to sparkle.

Ash sighed, turning his back to his pokemon. "Fine." Turning to Misty with an overly forced smile, he held his hands out like a kid asking for candy. Misty looked at him quizzically, still trying to balance her luggage in her hands.

"Err, I can take that for you, Misty. If you want, that is." He added the last part hopefully.

Misty dropped her bags in surprise, and unfortunately, they landed right on Ash's feet. "OWW! WHAT THE--"

Ash's howls of agony were quickly -- and fortunately -- interrupted by Pikachu, who chose the perfect moment to shock his owner. "Pi, pikapi. Pikachu chu pi pika? (Wow, Ash. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?)"

Ash feebly emitted a noise that sounded like a squeak. Trying to cradle his feet in his hands, he ungracefully fell to the floor, burnt to a crisp. Another weak squeak escaped his lips, and he shot his faithful pokemon (whom he was now looking eye-to-eye with), an extremely deadly look.

And to put the icing on the cake, from the other room, Ash could clearly hear his mother calling. "Oh, and Ash, I forgot! Don't forget to change your underwear! Every. Single. Day."

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"Stop pushing, James, they might hear us!"

"But Jesse! I wanna seeeee…"

Jesse rolled her eyes. That voice! How did she put up with it? The constant whining, the complaints… it was enough to drive a girl crazy! "Wait your turn!" she snapped huffily, shoving his head out of the way and into Mrs. Ketchum's prized flower garden. James sat stubbornly on the ground, picking flower petals out of his teeth and pouting like a little kid.

After a couple of days of strategizing, (which were, in actuality, a few days of Team Rocket spitting out random ideas only to be rejected flatly by Brock), Jesse decided to take things into her own hands. After all, she was the one who invited him to join them. She was the one who ran things. So why should she be listening to him, anyway?

Squishing her face closer into the windowpane, Jesse squinted her eyes to try to get a better view of the interior of the Ketchum household. Luckily for her, the curtains were drawn to allow sunlight into the room, but from what she could see, the room she was unoccupied. It was, however, furnished very cozily. Across the window on the other side of the room was a television, and across from that was a very comfortable looking overstuffed sofa. On either side of the sofa sat two plush looking armchairs. The walls were decorated with various pictures of Ash and his family.

"Jesse, over here!" James called from another window, interrupting Jesse's surveillance.

"What now, James?"

"Look, there's Brock! Do you think I should say hi?"

"JAMES!" Jesse hissed dangerously, bolting over to the window her partner was standing at and nearly bowling him over. "If you draw any attention to us, I'll make sure it's the last thing you do."

James, whose arm was halfway raised to knock on the window, lowered it guiltily.

"Let me see, James."

"But Jesse," her partner pointed out triumphantly, "what about waiting your turn?"

Jesse rolled her eyes again, and promptly proceeded to reintroduce James to Mrs. Ketchum's flowerbed. "Fine," he muttered from below her, rubbing his head. "We can share."

That problem resolved, James got back on his feet and smashed his face closer to Jesse's in a feeble attempt to see anything he could from the small kitchen window. From what he could gather, the window was located just above the sink. Across from the sink in the middle of the kitchen was an island counter, where the stove was located. And, in front of the stove, with his back turned toward the window, was Brock, merrily stirring away at a skillet and whistling a random tune.

"I wonder if he can sneak some of that food out to us…?" James mused.

"Oh, don't be silly James -- ooh, is that a cheeseburger?"

"I think so, Jesse!" Brock did an elaborate flip with whatever was frying in the skillet, and the contents of his cooking started to sizzle. James started to drool, wide eyed. "Jesse?" He whined again, tapping her on the shoulder. "I'm hungry. Can we get something to eat?"

Sighing, Jesse almost smacked him into Mrs. Ketchum's flowers for the third time, but a rumble from her stomach stopped her. "We'll see, James. Meowth's off trying to get spare change as we speak, so maybe we'll be able to buy something." She turned to her right, to give her partner a comforting pat on the back.

It was at this exact moment that the two Team Rocket members noticed just exactly how close they were to each other. Because they had to squish their faces together to get a good look through the window, now that they were looking right at each other, their faces were only separated by about an inch. In fact, their noses were almost touching.

James shot Jesse a goofy grin, which, for the first time, made Jesse's knees shaky. "Good," he said. "I'm hungry."

Jesse could only nod, at a loss for words. James turned back to the window, licking his lips as he looked thoughtfully at Brock's skillet. Now that Jesse's knees had regained their full functionality, they had her thinking. Why, exactly, did she get weak at the knees a couple of seconds ago?

She glanced to her partner in would-be crime again, and her stomach rumbled again. Hunger, she decided, did weird things to her head.

"Look, Jesse," James pointed out, oblivious to the stare he was getting, "Brock's coming over to the window! I wonder if he's bringing any food?"

Suddenly, Jesse felt a sharp pain in the side of her head as Brock swung the window open, inadvertently slamming Jesse and James into the soft, damp soil of the flower garden.

If Jesse wasn't trying to be undercover, Brock would have gotten an earful. But, luckily for the would-be breeder, Jesse was trying to lay low. "Pull another stunt like that, Slate, and it'll be your last," she hissed dangerously, calmly picking a flower out of her hair.

"Sorry," Brock apologized hastily, dropping his voice. "But what are you two doing out here? I thought that we decided that I would go through with Phase One of the plan alone."

"Listen, twerp. You are the one that's working with us. I think its time for us to call the shots."

"Yeah," James agreed. "And the first thing we're asking for is a cheeseburger!"

Never missing an opportunity, Jesse didn't even look as she knocked James out of the way of the window. "Actually, the first thing we need to know is where everyone is staying. How do you expect us to play matchmaker if we don't know where our targets are?"

"And," James popped in from under the window, eyeing Brock distastefully, "a change of clothes. That apron is delightfully tacky." He wrinkled his nose at Brock's choice of apparel.

"What's wrong with my apron?" Brock asked huffily. He looked down at it fondly. It was white, with pink flowers and laces adorning the outside. Across the front of his chest was red scrawl saying "Kiss the Cook."

"Oh, nothing," Jesse replied her words oozing with sarcasm. "Anyway, where are the lovebirds staying?"

Brock opened his mouth to answer, but quickly turned over his shoulder after hearing the distinct sound of Ash and Misty starting one of their famous arguments. "Oh no," he groaned. "I'll meet with you two sometime later! I gotta break up a fight!" With a swift slam of the window, he was gone.

"Well, that was useless," Jesse growled.

"I know! We didn't even get any cheeseburgers!"

Jesse face faulted. This time, she was the one getting acquainted with Mrs. Ketchum's flower garden.

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He was so going to get her back. Sure, she had everyone else convinced that it was an accident, but he knew better. She was standing about a million feet away when she had dropped her bags, so the only way they could have possibly landed near him would be if she threw them. You had to get up pretty early in the morning to pull the wool over Ash Ketchum's eyes.

"I'm telling you, Ash," Brock said for what must have been the millionth time. "She couldn't have possibly thrown them!"

The two trainers had settled down in Ash's room, which, Brock had noted, was decorated like it housed a four year old. The walls were painted a light baby blue, and were covered with posters of trainers and pokemon. Little cardboard cutouts of various pokemon hung from string from the ceiling. The bed, which Brock was lounging on, was lined with sheets that had baby pokemon on them, like Jigglypuff and Clefairy. In fact, Brock was half expecting the bed to be in the shape of a racecar or something, but to his dismay, it wasn't.

It was shaped like a Charizard.

"How would you know," Ash accused from his position on the futon, still bitter over earlier that morning. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "For all I know, you could have been in on it, too. After all, you were the one who arranged the whole 'tour of the house' thing…"

Brock only sighed. "She could barely lift her own bags, let alone throw them at you."

"That's what she wants us to think."

"But did you have to be so hard on her? I think you might have hurt her feelings when you called her a 'clumsy little runt.'"

"Ka pikachu? (You think?)" Pikachu snorted from the foot of Ash's bed. It was a good thing for the little rodent that Ash didn't notice, or else he might of recalled that it was in fact Pikachu's idea for Ash to help Misty with her bags.

This time, Ash shrugged. "I was trying to help! And then she goes and throws her things at me. Am I not supposed to get mad if someone throws their luggage at my feet?"

"For the last time, Ash, she didn't throw--"

"And what on Earth could she have possible packed in those bags? They felt like they were full of bricks. It makes me even wonder why I'm going through all this trouble just for her--" Ash caught himself, mid sentence, then turned to Brock with a guilty expression on his face.

But it was too late. Brock had already heard what Ash had started to say. "And why exactly are you going through all this trouble, again?"

"No reason." Ash shifted in his bed guiltily.

"Ash."

"Oh, um. I was just, err, talking about… trying to help her out. You know. Carrying her bags for her to her room, and things like that." He flashed Brock a quick grin, then cocked his head toward the door, straining to hear something. "Gotta go, my mom's calling me!"

"Chu, pika… (Yeah, right…)" Pikachu snorted.

"You know, Ash," Brock said smoothly, "I could tell Misty that you're planning something."

Ash, who was halfway out of the door, stopped dead in his tracks. "That would work," he stuttered, "if I were planning something. Which, I'm not."

"Sure you're not."

"Pika pika, pikachu (Sure, that's believable.)" Pikachu chortled, obviously amused at the fact that his trainer wasn't paying any attention to his comments.

"I'm not!"

"Well, I'll tell you what, then," Brock countered swiftly. "I promise I won't tell Misty anything if you make me a deal."

"Fine."

"Aha!" Brock cried, jumping up from his bed. "If you weren't planning anything then you wouldn't have agreed with me but you did agree with me which must mean you are planning something so tell me what you're planning or else I'll tell Misty that you're planning something and then you won't even get a chance to finish planning what you're planning!" Brock convulsed into a heap on his bed, panting.

Ash was silent for a while. Then, in a confused voice, said: "Huh? Can I have the shortened version, please?"

Brock sweat dropped. "I know you're planning something. And, I won't tell Misty as long as you agree to make a deal with me."

After a while, Ash spoke up. "Fine! Ash Ketchum never backs down from a challenge. What is it?"

Brock smiled mischievously. "You have to be nice to Misty for a whole week. Starting with an apology for this afternoon. You really hurt her feelings, man."

Ash's face dropped. After a while of thought, he triumphantly raised his fist in the air. "I'll do it! But, on one condition. If I win, then you have to give up hitting on all the random Joys and Jennys for one week too."

"Hey! Don't drag them into this!" Brock replied, fighting back a dreamy look in his eyes. "What do you have against them, anyway?"

"It's embarrassing. C'mon, Brock-o. If I have to be nice to her, then you have to give up something too."

"Chu ka pikachu pika cha pikachu. (Five bucks says both of you don't make it past Thursday.)"

"Fine…" Brock grumbled. He stuck his hand out grudgingly. "Deal?"

Ash took it, and shook it firmly. "Deal."

To be continued…

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A/N: First off, I have to ask you wonderful readers something! At first, this chapter was a lot lengthier, but I decided to cut it down into parts. Would you prefer shorter chapters (around this length), or longer ones?

Haha, wow I really had a lot of fun writing this part, and hopefully everyone enjoyed reading it, too. Even though I felt like the dialogue and writing was a little bit rushed and went in circles at the end, I really wanted to get this part out before I start moving all my stuff, or I would have never posted it. Tell me what you think! REVIEW PLEASE! As an author, I live on them. And you wouldn't want me to disappear again, would you? Eh… never mind, don't answer that.

Btw, I might not update this as frequently… I move into my dorm room soon (AHH! IM STARTING COLLEGE!) and I definitely think that I'm going to need some time to adjust. Plus, I have another fic in the working (if you watch Teen Titans, check it out! It's called "Beauty and the Beast Boy.") But, if school hasn't totally taken over my life, I might crank out a couple chapters.

Until next time!