Pokémon: The Vision of His Future Chapter 2 A Task Set, a pokémon fanfic

Now

Outside the home he had grown up in, Ash fidgeted by the station wagon. Pikachu, Misty's Togetic, and his mother's Mr. Mime (nicknamed Mimey) were still his only companions. Where were the girls? It was getting late and they still had a long car drive to go. He felt a stab of guilt in his heart; if he'd just remembered the whole thing to start with, they could've had a nice, normal plane flight or a bus ride as Misty preferred.

Finally Delia appeared on the porch: alone. At the unspoken question in Ash's eyes, Delia piped up, "I think Misty needs some more time to recover, dear. Go ahead without us. We'll just have some nice soup and quiet time together, don't worry about us!" She smiled reassuringly as Delia clasped her hands together before her chest in a girlish fashion, radiating innocence and confidence.

Ash bit his lip as a few hairs on the back of his neck sprung up. But even as the sudden suspicion of his mother crossed his mind, Ash mentally sent it packing with a blast of renewed guilt. He couldn't help but feel like he'd caused Misty's bout of sickness, although he was at a loss for exactly how.

For a split second he considered staying with Misty anyway; but no. If nobody went, that would eliminate the reason for the whole trip to Pallet Town. Might as well get something accomplished. Ash knew lots of people developed teleport sickness if they used their Pokémon to travel too much; hence how vehicles of every sort were still commonplace.

And although the variant of motion sickness had come on strong, it was no more fatal than a bad stomach flu or cold. Perfectly ordinary things that Delia had nursed him through in his own youth. Misty would be in very capable hands.

He called back, "Tell Misty I'll only be out for a couple of hours. I'll pick her up some medicine from the Pokémart on my way back, too. Be back soon, okay?"

Delia nodded, accepting Ash's decision calmly. "Of course, sweetheart. Go and make our humble little Pallet Town proud, now!"

As his mom turned back into the house, Mimey and Togetic followed her. Ash got in the family car and with Pikachu riding shotgun, set off for the opposite end of town. Ash knew he couldn't get a trip from Togetic anyways. Teleport only worked on line-of-sight or if a Pokémon had physically visited a location before. Since Misty had kept her distance from the Morgan family the last few years, her little Normal- and Flying-Type would be no help. Besides, Ash felt no need to push his luck courting teleport sickness himself any further today.

One trip across town later and Ash was nearing his goal. As his car began rolling down the street in the twilight, Ash took advantage of the slight downward slope to get a good look at the gym.

The city itself had been growing rapidly over the last five years or so. Which made it a real wonder how the Morgans had gotten so much land; the multi-building facility was already surrounded by other completed, working businesses whose construction hadn't been delayed. Or maybe the size of the grounds wasn't such a big surprise after all. Ash could easily recall lazy childhood days wishing his little burg had a Pokémon Gym of its very own. Looked like a lot of financial backers felt the same way.

The gym's multiple buildings reminded Ash of a quiet college with clean, straight lines, earthy colors, and plenty of well-groomed greenery across its grounds. He had to admit that for a place that hadn't officially begun its first semester yet, the Pallet Town Gym looked respectable, professional, and self-assured to the hilt.

Until he got a closer look. Several of the rows of shrubbery had been carefully trimmed to resemble the three most prominent figures of the gym. And there were a few statues of those selfsame personages scattered here and there along the walking paths. Just past the main gate, in the middle of the parking lot's circular rotunda, was a huge fountain depicting the trio as well. The main gate itself was a monolithic affair of sturdy oak, ringed by blazing torches, that reminded Ash of an old movie starring a giant Primeape on a rampage.

The main gate was thrown open to allow dozens of people to mix n' mingle. Their shadows were caught and thrown by the various lights into a thousand sparkling jewels flowing across the trees. It looked like a pretty good turnout. Maybe this would be fun after all. A gentle gust of wind carried a nice whiff of something smelling very tasty through Ash's open window.

"C'mon, Pikachu!" Ash smiled broadly, "let's be good guests and get plenty to eat!" "Pi-Pikachu!"

Shortly after passing through the main gate, Ash found himself directed to a parking spot by a flashlight-waving valet. He blushed; as he approached, the young man could see his name on a sign reserving the parking space for himself in big, bold letters. Right up front too; for a split second, Ash hoped his tardiness would allow him and Pikachu to mingle into the crowd unnoticed anyway.

But of course not. Anybody who'd taken the trouble to clear a spot for a guest of honor would surely be waiting for him to arrive, wouldn't he?

Ash barely had time to shut off the car's lights and ignition before his door was gently but firmly pulled open. He grinned sheepishly at his friend as James helped Ash out of the car.

James Morgan was beaming point-blank at the Pokémon Master, "Hello, old friend! So glad you could make it after all! I was becoming concerned; until I realized your little plot!" Clad in his own light blue tux with shiny metallic lapels, James winked broadly at Ash. "Fashionably late as well as fashionably dressed, of course! A man after my own heart."

Ash had to laugh. "Thanks, pal! But I think we both know the truth, here."

"Certainly," James assured with a straight face, then bent down to greet Pikachu on a somewhat even footing. "Not a bad cut to your jib either, I must say, my good Pokémon," he assured the Electric-Type.

Pikachu chirped a happy greeting as the three stepped onto the curb. And why not? Sometimes the human's ostentatious nature could grate, sure, but he had a deep and true love of Pokémon that made Pikachu feel patient now that he'd gotten to know James.

The fall of Team Rocket years ago hadn't just been the loss of a job to James. It had been much more. It had almost been a spiritual epiphany; a freedom of his very soul. Without the need to impress anybody (save, perhaps, his wife) anymore or to try and embarrass his rich parents with dirty deeds, James had finally gotten to fulfill his life-long desire. To be an ordinary Pokémon Trainer; learning, loving, and laughing with his Pokémon in one big happy family. And of course, thanks to that aforementioned wife, they had a few new additions to the human side of that family one month ago.

Some friends, such as Ash and Pikachu, had only sweetened things further. Now, with their Pokémon Gym finally opening, James was nearly bursting with warm pride as everything he had worked hard to make for so very long was coming true.

Yet for a second a look of true hurt framed his wide green eyes. "Oh, dear," he observed, "I had hoped that your charming betrothed would finally let bygones be bygones after all. I do hope it wasn't anything I said at our last meeting---?"

"Nope," Ash was quick to assure, "She wanted to come, but she got sick."

"Really?" James' eyebrows flew up; Ash noticed that the slightly taller man had somehow gotten his one errant lock of hair off his forehead and into the rest of his blue hairdo where it belonged for the evening. Probably some of his wife's industrial-strength hairspray. As the trio strode down the sidewalk, James slipped an arm around Ash's shoulder to lean close.

Conspiratorially, James whispered, "Is she vomiting?"

"Yeah," Ash confirmed.

James continued, "But no fever?"

"No fever," Ash said.

James added, "No chills either?"

"Nope, none of those either," Ash replied.

James had been politely but briskly steering them toward the main building's door. Now he pulled away, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as his eyes sparkled over his shoulder at them. "Really. Interesting set of symptoms, there. How droll. I'm not sure if I should express sorrow for her condition or congratulations."

Ash was taken aback. "It's just teleport sickness."

For a second, Ash had the distinct impression James was choking back a laugh behind his hand. But he didn't get a chance to grill his friend; James' free hand was pushing him through the gym's main door and right into the limelight.

Jessie Morgan descended on him swiftly. Before she reached him, Ash had a couple of seconds to take in the way her low-cut evening gown clung to her. The narrow shoulder straps and thigh-high slit on one side of the flowing skirt gave her a touch of class to go with her sexy sass. Said sass was definitely being supplied by the way she was stalking over to him, high heels clicking and earrings swinging; the bright red of her dress and shoes matching her hair. Which, Ash was shocked to notice, Jessie still had cut off at her shoulders in short spikes. Perhaps the new hairdo wasn't just a pregnancy fad after all.

James' better half paused mere feet from Ash, propping one of her wine-red gloved arms on her hip; the other under her chin as she observed tartly, "Well, well. So glad you made it, being a guest of honor and all. No entourage this evening?"

Ash noted a group of reporters in her wake. Video cameras and more traditional flashbulbs were plying their trade as he responded, "Sorry about that, Jessie. It was an unavoidable delay. Please, accept my apologies." He knew that the reporters were here to cover the gym's opening; but Ash also knew from long experience that any other gossip they could acquire (particularly on a Pokémon Master) was fair game.

So Ash leaned close to Jessie, putting her between himself and the reporters, to add much more quietly, "Misty got really sick and Mom stayed home with her."

Jessie's eyebrows quirked. "Really? Hmm, too bad your little redhead isn't more like me. I'm fit as a Machamp." With a wide grin, Jessie stepped back and waved an arm to indicate her fabulous figure. Obviously, Jessie had applied her workout regimen religiously since giving birth. Her waist was tight and narrow; the only gains seemed to be in the right places, making Jessie's reborn curves more dangerous than ever. Pictures flashed and cameras whirred as Jessie beamed at her public.

Ash had to admit that even though Misty had finally bloomed long ago, Jessie still had a distinct advantage in the hourglass department. The sudden realization that he was, indeed, studying Jessie's figure made Ash break into a blush. Something Jessie's keen blue eyes didn't miss. Her gaze danced and her lips turned up with amusement.

Ash threw off her look and tried to regain his poise, replying, "So am I forgiven or not?"

Before his co-Gym Leader could reply, James put a hand on Ash's shoulder to address her. "I daresay the matter is settled. Let's adjourn to the banquet table, shall we?"

That sounded like a very good idea to Ash. He stepped forward, but Jessie shook her head once sharply; earrings swinging again. "Oh, no-no-no, husband dear," Jessie smiled a slow, wolfish smile, "Such an insult can only be answered one way in a proper Pokémon Gym."

Ash moaned aloud, raising his hands desperately. "C'mon, Jessie! I said I was sorry. Look, we just got here! I don't want to battle right now---we haven't had anything to eat in hours!" Pikachu backed up Ash's sentiments with, "Pikachu!"

Jessie took a couple steps closer to her husband's side, her wry yet steely gaze never leaving Ash. James let go of Ash to step up to her, reinforcing her position. Jessie purred, "My, my. What a whine that was! How unbecoming for an adult, much less an important Pokémon Master. Does your mother know you still do that at your age?"

Ash's hands unconsciously balled into fists at his hips and his face was probably red, judging by the burning sensation---but he ultimately refused to be goaded. Jessie did have one point; he was an adult now and he should behave like one.

Even if she wasn't.

But he found himself saying, quietly and coldly, "You were a lot nicer before---uh, that is---" It seemed much too dirty pool to finish the sentence; Ash found his momentary anger flowing away at his own half-completed accusation.

Jessie smirked at him via the side of her mouth the reporters couldn't see. "You mean when I was pregnant?" she replied too softly for the newshounds to hear, "Yes, yes, I noticed it myself. My hormones were all out of whack and I was just full of maternal love for the whole wide world; what can I say?" Her smile grew larger, sharper, and her voice returned to a normal volume as Jessie added, "I feel much better now."

Meowth popped up near Pikachu. Tugging on his own tuxedo shirt's tie (but still lacking any pants), the Pokémon grinned at Ash and Pikachu alike, "Heh, too bad for youse two. Da Big 'B' is back, and boy, has she gots an itch!"

James was forced to physically cut between his wife and his friend with a chopping motion of one hand. "Now, now. We're all Pokémon League professionals here. And we all know what bad form—not to mention bad luck—it is to have a match on a gym's opening night. There's always tomorrow for such things."

His words were true. To James and Pikachu's evident delight alike, Ash and Jessie softened visibly. Suddenly thunderstruck with inspiration, James added, "Ooo, and don't forget the future Mrs. Ketchum, Jessie! Once she's feeling better, the four of us could have a Double Battle!"

"Wonderful!" Jessie quickly moved between her husband and Ash now, drawing an arm around each man's shoulders. She clasped the boys close to either side, her firm grip eliciting polite (if insincere) smiles to echo her own, as the trio still faced the waiting cameras. Jessie proclaimed, "You heard it here! The Pallet Town Gym's first ever Pokémon battle will be a Dream Match! Be there at 9 o'clock tomorrow morning or be square!"

An energetic burst of flashbulbs blinded Ash momentarily. Pikachu was privately glad he was so short for once; he'd been left out of the pictures and the glare alike. James whispered to Jessie, "Tomorrow? I meant in a couple of days, dear---"

As the reporters bent to their instruments to recap for the live audience, Jessie released her hubby. But she kept her grip on Ash tight. He was the same height as her under normal circumstances; but tonight her stiletto heels put Jessie way up there by comparison. She was forced to stoop notably for an even gaze. Her eyes were narrow and her voice low as she hissed, "I've been dreaming about beating you for a long time."

Ash managed to keep his gaze locked to hers from the start, responding, "Yeah. Ever since we met, I'd say. Keep on wishing, Jessie; maybe Jirachi will hear you someday."

Instead of snarling, Jessie grinned at the thought. As Jessie swept away in a swish of skirt to attend to other duties, James obediently fell into step behind. But a touch on his elbow from Ash stopped the elder man short. "Hey, buddy," the youth added to one half of the gym's leaders, "Sorry about that. I mean, uh, I didn't mean to pick a Pokémon battle with her---or stare at her, or anything---"

James waved the concern away, smiling honestly and broadly, "Ah, but she did, now didn't she? Oh, don't let that bother your pretty little head, Ash! I know full well my loving, faithful wife just likes to rattle you any way she can. One of her little idiosyncrasies, you know. She's so flamboyant!" James turned back, admiring how his lady love was still controlling the chaos of opening night from afar.

But only for a moment. When James turned back to Ash, there was more than an echo of Jessie's predatory look in his own eyes. "Besides, I daresay I might enjoy a rematch with you and Little Miss Red. For old times' sake, hmm?" Leaving Ash to ponder that, James calmly moved off to rejoin his wife.

Meowth chortled, "Good luck to yas tomorrow, kiddo. Yer gonna need it," before joining his friends.

The renewed grumble of hunger from his hopeful belly reminded Ash where his priorities lay at the moment. Shrugging off the whole thing for now, he nodded to Pikachu and the pair headed for the buffet together.

A pretty blonde woman in a clean white uniform appeared to bar the way. "Excuse me, Mr. Ketchum--?" she chirped hopefully. A sealed envelope and a nicely folded piece of paper was in one hand; the other held her pen at the ready.

Ash moaned (inwardly this time). "Please, miss, just let me grab a bite. Then I'll give you an autograph, okay?" The girl giggled, "Oh, no, sir! Well, actually, since I need you to sign for your message, I suppose I do need your autograph after all."

"Oh," Ash replied, "Thanks. Guess I owe you an apology." He signed the lady's receipt sheepishly. "No worries, sir," she grinned right back, "You enjoy your dinner, now." She passed the envelope over before taking her leave politely.

Ash tucked the envelope under his arm as, at long last, he finished his trip to the food. After passing an apple down to Pikachu, the young man proceeded to start loading up a plate. He found his curiosity warring with his hunger, however. Soon, with a grumble, Ash decided to compromise. The envelope was ripped open one-handed as his fork continued spearing grub for his plate.

It was hard to unfold the letter and read it while still loading up his dinner, but an old food-handlin' pro like Ash managed it.

At least, until what he was reading truly sunk in.

Ash's fork hand froze. He held the letter up to the light, rereading it quickly. It said exactly what it had the last time:

"Master Trainer-

Blackthorn City Gym. Tomorrow. This letter will reach you no later than 6 o'clock; hurry to the airport and you will catch the last flight.

Bring your Earth Badge if you dare.

I'm waiting."

No signature. For a second, an image of Sir Lawrence Talbot the 3rd floated across Ash's mind. But no; despite being behind the recent events at Sternbreak Island, Lawrence III hadn't been present at the hospital afterwards. He'd missed that particular confrontation. So the part about a Gym Leader badge Ash had earned long ago couldn't be luring him into a trap.

No, the letter had to come from the real deal.

From Giovanni, his father.

A glance at his watch merely confirmed what Ash already knew. Misty's illness had already put him way past the 6 o'clock deadline. No airplane for him. But Ash knew another set of wings that just might fill in. Absently, he crumpled up the letter before pitching it into a nearby trash can.

Ash noticed Pikachu was tugging on his pant leg insistently, gazing up with wide brown eyes. "Pika? Pika! Pikachu!" The half-eaten apple lay at Pikachu's tiny feet, forgotten.

"C'mon, Pikachu," Ash said quietly, "We've got some more old friends to see tonight."

--Then--

Twenty-four years earlier---

The hand of Madam Boss slapped a clipboard down on her desk. The resulting clatter, not to mention knowing what the report on the clipboard said, didn't do anything to dislodge the wiseguy smirk adorning Giovanni's face. He remained seated in a visitor's chair across from her as Madam Boss fumed.

She was still an extraordinarily beautiful woman. Besides her dedication to keeping herself fit, Giovanni also admired her fashion sense. A dark red business suit, cut to fit her shape snugly, overlaid a jet-black skirt. Her stockings were dark too. Almost as dark as the waves of hair spilling across her shoulders and down her back.

But her most striking (and mysterious) feature was her eyes. Madam Boss' long dark bangs cast a shadow over them, masking her gaze when she wished. But only when she wished. It was almost like she could control the shadows of her face by her sheer willpower alone. Giovanni was still at a loss for exactly how she did this; he suspected his boss had some sort of latent Psychic ability.

At the moment he was under the full power of her revealed stare. And he could see reflected in her dark brown eyes that pondering her bangs was the very last thing he should be concerned about at the moment. Should've been, anyway. Madam Boss was gripping both armrests furiously now and her one leg, demurely crossed over the other, was bouncing her foot with increasing sharpness. Any other Team Rocket employee would've recognized the look as an imminent explosion of rage and run for the hills.

But he knew her better. She wasn't truly angry---not yet.

"This has got to stop, Agent 7," The Boss stated in a no-nonsense tone, "I have had more than enough of your promiscuity over the years. You are very fortunate that none of those girls have—gotten into trouble. Yet. You are an intelligent and talented agent. If only your dedication matched your other qualifications--- You know better than this."

For the first time since he'd been summoned to her office that day, Giovanni felt a little fear at the way she referred to him. Giovanni took a moment to smooth his Rocket Executive's uniform as he regained his composure. To his credit, the moment's weakness never showed on his face. "Agent, Moth---Madam?" he asked nonchalantly. The look in the woman's eyes had forced him to change his statement mid-word. This was to be a strictly professional meeting. "Have you changed the rank titles for our organization?" he finished hopefully.

Yes, Giovanni knew Madam Boss well; but then again, the reverse was also true. Her full lips slid sideways into a little half-snarl, half-smirk. "No, you have simply been demoted." She was pleased to see that Giovanni's mouth actually dropped open in shock. "But don't worry," she assured him in a voice carefully devoid of actual sarcasm, "you always did wear an agent's uniform well. You will do so again."

"An agent," Giovanni grumbled as anger started to color his features. He grabbed his own armrests angrily as he added, "And to what wonderful assignment do I have to look forward to, Madam?"

Madam Boss relaxed enough to steeple her fingers before her and let her bouncing foot rest. "You've heard of Professor Samuel Oak, I'm sure." It wasn't really a question, but Giovanni nodded anyway as curiosity replaced some of his anger. The lady continued, "We extended an invitation to join Team Rocket through a dummy corporation a few months ago. When told what sort of work he would be doing, he refused."

Now Giovanni grinned. "And you would like a more—persuasive—invitation extended? That would be enjoyable, after all. Does he have any family members I can 'work' with?"

The Boss' shoulders drooped slightly with disappointment. "All this time as an executive," she sighed, "and such brutality is still your first response. Have I taught you nothing over all these years?"

Giovanni quickly amended, "I'm not implying anything like what happened on my last assignment, Madam. I meant in terms of blackmail, perhaps, or possibly kidnapping---" He broke off at the angry wave of her hand.

Madam Boss leaned forward a little, her intense stare never leaving his face. "Do you think we need to employ such strong methods against Oak? Do you?"

Giovanni searched his memory for a reason. The subject had been a formidable Pokémon Trainer, right up there with Agatha of the Elite Four, before retiring to merely study Pokémon quite a while back. A straight raid would be difficult. Not impossible, but difficult; although Giovanni was sure he could handle it anyway. He ended up saying, "I'm quite capable of just stealing anything you wish, but I thought it would be more subtle otherwise---"

Again she broke him off; this time with a small sigh. "Agent 7, do you know if Prof. Oak actually has anything worth stealing? Before spending half Team Rocket's budget on a large operation against him? Hmm?"

Giovanni had had enough of sticking his foot in his mouth. He slowly shook his head 'no', glaring at her from beneath taught eyebrows.

Madam Boss let her hands rest on the desk, "As I was about to explain before you interrupted, your mission will be a long-term reconnaissance. The professor is in need of a new assistant and you've already got an interview at the end of the week. Get that job. Then, watch Oak carefully and let us know if he is on to anything worthwhile. Outside agents will take care of any extractions deemed necessary, allowing you to continue in your position for some time—provided you don't raise Oak's suspicions."

Feeling his stomach drop down a couple inches into his body, Giovanni asked, "How long is long-term, Madam, if I may be so bold?"

"At least a year," she responded firmly.

"A year!" Giovanni snapped as he found his feet at last.

Madam Boss leapt to her feet as well. Her high heels dug into the deep carpet like claws as she rounded the desk on him. "Yes!" she snarled, "a year! And be thankful that's all that I've given you! Do you realize what I would've done to anyone else—anyone else at all—in Team Rocket if they'd drawn as much attention to themselves as you have? Or would you rather clean the Tauros enclosure by yourself, with your tongue, for a year!"

Giovanni leaned back from her, unconsciously and automatically ducking away from her. Yet, despite his own resentful pose, the wheels had already begun turning in his mind. Yes, the assignment was a rebuke in many ways; but it could also be quite plum. Who knew what Oak had up his sleeve? Giovanni would. And he would be the one to present it to Madam Boss.

Perhaps, if he truly impressed her, he could regain his executive's position in record time.

The Boss was watching him carefully. It could be that another Psychic talent of hers was reading his mind. Her anger dissipated as quickly as it had flared. She could take a moment to reassure him somewhat. With a tenderness few in Team Rocket would've thought her capable of, Madam Boss reached out to clasp Giovanni's elbow.

Softly, she intoned, "You are twenty years old now. It is past time for you to grow up. Pay attention, for I have no desire to turn over this organization I've built to anyone but you—yet I will if I have to."

She was tall, even without her heels. Giovanni was forced to look up a little to meet her gaze. Sudden fear flashed in his own eyes as he pondered her statement. "That day won't come for a long time. I'll be ready by then."

"Will it?" Madam Boss responded gently, "Will you? Then you'd best start now. Go, my son. Make me proud at long last."

For the first time in a very long time, Giovanni was tempted to hug her. There was something strange about her attitude all of a sudden. Something—dare he say it?--sad. But they were both adults, now, and he thought better of it. Instead Giovanni set a stiff upper lip as he backed away from Madam Boss' touch. He gave her a Team Rocket salute, which she swiftly returned.

He could feel Madam Boss watching him the entire way out of her office, feeling her hope and her fear alike riding on his shoulders the entire way.

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