Summary: Despite his better judgment, Brock agrees to an illicit affair with the Saffron City Gym Leader. That was his first mistake. His second was falling in love with her. His third was buying her a sea breeze on her birthday. Mangashipping.
Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon. If I did all of my shipping preferences would be cannon.
A/N: Thank you everyone for reading this kind of self-indulgent fanfic and the fact that nobody has mentioned all the unfinished fanfics that ought to have taken precedent over finishing this very niche one. I've used ATLS date conventions for this, basically for my own convenience and to keep track of what age everyone is supposed to be when. Basically Ash's birth is year 00 and so everything is relative to that.
2. The Forbidden Fruit: Citrus paradisi – The Fall of Man
~ One Year Earlier: April 3018
Tonight was a big night for Ash Ketchum, although it was nothing compared to the day that preceded it. The battle was most definitely a nail biter right down the last moment when his opponents final Pokémon fell and Ash was declared the Pokémon Master.
Tonight was the celebration of that victory and now that his body had stopped jittering with nerves, he could finally enjoy it.
"I'll see you there," Brock told the now Pokémon Master with a smile as he left Ash waiting in his hotel suite for Misty to get ready. He had intended to leave with them, but at the rate Misty was going it wouldn't be the case. He needed to leave now lest he keep his date waiting.
Yes, you heard correctly. Brock Slate – Casanova extraordinaire – had a date . . . with a female . . . a HUMAN female at that. After some extensive therapy, he had found a way to control himself around pretty females and even woo them on occasion.
And his date was one hell of a beauty. Long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, flawless complexion – she looked like she had stepped right out of a magazine (perhaps penthouse). The thought of Clarissa waiting for him at the venue brought a smile to his face. One that he wouldn't let be dampened by Misty's insistence that Clarissa was name for prostitutes and serial killers.
As he approached and saw her waving at him he couldn't help but think that Misty might have hit the nail on the head. Clarissa was dressed in an impossibly small red dress, matching sandals, and her hair full of volume. She was somewhat underdressed for the evening's event, but Brock was a guy, so he didn't really care.
He offered the blonde his arm and flashed his invitation at the doorman as he entered.
"Brocky?" Clarissa asked sweetly as they entered, fluttering her eyelashes at him. "Do you mind getting me something to drink?"
"Sure," Brock replied, flashing her a suave smile. "What would you like?"
Clarissa looked thoughtful for a moment, as though she hadn't actually considered the eventuation of Brock asking her such a question. "Just a beer," she responded, and Brock smiled and headed to the bar.
He wondered what cruel person's idea it had been to supply the event with an open bar. It seemed to him somewhat obnoxious to be serving an endless supply of alcohol when the guest of honour wasn't old enough to indulge in the substance (the legal drinking age being eighteen in Kanto and Ash being only seventeen and eight months). Others, namely Misty, did not share his thoughtful take on the situation. In contrast, Misty considered it a source of endless amusement, and would probably spend the evening ordering drinks she had no intention of consuming just to spite him.
Brock reminded himself to take pity on Ash at some point in the evening, and slip him a beer while his mother wasn't looking. Not that he thought Delia would mind, but just to be on the safe side it seemed like the sort of thing to be kept between the boys. He wasn't really sure how he was going to get it past Misty, but he'd come to that when he needed to.
When he returned from the bar holding his date's beer, she was gone. Across the room he could see her trying to chat up Gary Oak and Tracey Sketchit. Apparently 'up-and-coming breeder' just didn't cut it when a girl could be cozying up to 'world renown researcher and most eligible bachelor' Gary Oak, and Tracey just seemed to be able to draw women to him in an inexplicable way. He noted that Clarissa wasn't the only female in their vicinity and that the two men seemed to be ignoring all but the most persistent of the bunch.
Brock sighed and smiled wanly. He suspected that he should have seen it coming. True, Clarissa hadn't reacted to his advances as women had in his youth (something he was more acutely aware of thanks to his therapy), she hadn't exactly been throwing herself at him or that responsive to his attention at all. In fact, she had only seemed interested once he mentioned that he was going to the party for the new Pokemon Master.
Some - again, probably Misty - would say that he'd brought it on himself. That's what you get when you use your connection to the Pokémon Master to pick up women. You get fickle women, which were fine at the end of an evening, but did not make good dates unless you could be certain there was no one to outrank you once you got there. Brock was outranked, which he knew he would be; he just hadn't expected it to be by Tracey bloody Sketchit.
It was one thing to be dumped and similarly to be dumped for Gary – that much was expected – but to be dumped for Tracey?! It was beyond humiliating and the fact that Clarissa would rather spend her evening with 'bandanna boy' hurt more than the mere fact of ditching did on his own.
For christs sake! Tracey didn't even like girls!
Broken and humiliated, Brock realized that he couldn't just stand there looking morose for the rest of the evening. He spotted Ash and Misty – her flaming red hair like a beacon among those gathered – who had probably arrived whilst he was at the bar.
The two moved from group to group, exchanging pleasantries, and Brock smiled at how good they looked together. Misty's hair was up in a French twist and she wore an emerald, backless dress with a gaud skirt that hung to below her knees. Ash remained a little messy, dressed in a casual black tux with no tie. His arm never left her waist no matter how they moved, and Misty's body was always facing his. Brock wouldn't call himself an expert on body language, but it was hard to deny the clear message in theirs.
They were together now and everything about it seemed to scream as loud as their former denials.
They moved as a single unit.
He could see Misty's brilliant smile even though they were on opposite sides of the room. She was so proud of Ash for what he had done and this moment meant more to him for having her to share it with.
Misty was blushing now, which probably meant the person that they were talking to had commented on her and Ash's relationship. Instead of denying it vehemently like they would in the past, Ash smiled and leaned in to kiss her cheek, causing her smile to broaden. The relationship was new, but the feelings were as old as their friendship.
Brock scanned the room for familiar faces. May and Dawn waved him over to them. Ash's mother had been talking to the girls, but was moving to talk to her son and future daughter-in-law (Mrs. Ketchum was already making plans for a wedding and grandchildren) as the pair-of-the-evening slipped away from the well-wishers.
"Brock, you haven't changed at all?" May commented, giving him a bright smile. "That's a handsome tux."
Brock smiled, adjusting his lapels and striking a pose for the two girls who laughed at his antics.
"So how's life treating you guys?" he asked them. The two began gushing immediately, taking turns in enlightening Brock to what had been happening for them since he had last seen them – it had been three years since they had journeyed with Dawn, four since May.
May seemed to be doing well on the contest circuit, although the majority of her gushing seemed to be spent talking about her rival/boyfriend Drew who was – according to May – the very meaning of perfection. Dawn, on the other hand, had given up on contests to get into show business, which didn't surprise him at all. Brock had always suspected that Pokémon contests were merely a phase for Dawn.
As they gushed and he nodded along to their conversation, Brock began to feel increasingly awkward around the two. He was twenty-two years old, and the two girls were still in the first flush of youth in a very obvious way. They were standing around talking about some adorable movie star that Brock had never heard of, and it was going completely over his head. He realized that he didn't really have anything in common with the two girls anymore – especially Dawn who was nine years younger than him and out of the Pokémon world – and he was starting to feel uncomfortably his age by spending time with them. The words 'jail bait' easily sprung to mind.
He excused himself, spotting some older gym leaders across the room that he could freely converse with without being accused of anything indecent. The group he joined consisted of Lt. Surge and Koga of Kanto, and Danny of the Orange Archipelago who were together conversing about high speed Pokémon.
"Look, I know that deoxys are supposed to be the fastest land Pokémon, but what's the point of it being so fast if it's pretty much impossible to catch the things?" the army officer commented, giving a pointed look at Danny who was clearly about to suggest he just befriend one.
"Are you saying that Pokémon should only be endowed with abilities where it is convenient for us to make use of them?" the ninja master countered with a sly smile and a serene look in his eyes.
"No, I mean," Lt. Surge replied flustered, his accent becoming thicker as he spoke. "People are always sayin' that they're the fastest, but they're so rare that it's not like we could race 'em to prove it. We don't even know how long they can keep the speed for."
"He has a point," Brock interjected, trying to ease a bit of Surge's discomfort. "Tauros can be pretty fast when they're charging, but in a long distance race they'd lose to the likes of ponyta and rapidash even though the base and maximum speeds for Tauros are so much higher. All we know is the maximum speeds recorded, but no one has a clue what sort of stamina they have or the circumstances required to get to them."
"I accept your proposition," Danny nodded with an easy smile, "but I still maintain that nothing beats a bobsled in a downhill race."
The other three males face-faulted at his expense.
"So, who won the pool in the end?" Danny asked as they recovered, nodding his head in the direction of Brock's two best friends.
"Sabrina," Lt. Surge replied with a shake of his head. "Not entirely sure it was fair though. I thought there was at least another couple of years in it."
"No, I thought it would be sooner," Koga returned, shaking his head with a sigh. "I had this time two years ago."
"You think you were off?" Brock laughed. "I was sure when I left them alone together in the Orange Islands that they would have either killed each other or gotten married by the end of the first week."
"Hey," Danny argued. "I know things are a bit different in the islands, but even we wouldn't allow a couple of pre-teens to get married. At least not without parental consent."
"You'd have it," Brock laughed. "Delia loves the idea of her 'little Ashy' marrying Misty and has probably had it in her mind the moment she met her, and Misty's sisters would give their consent just to spite her."
"If he'd waited just one month I could have been rolling in Pokéballs," Danny said with a sigh. "Now I have to go catch Sabrina a lapras. I was so sure I'd win – I thought for sure he'd wait 'til his last battle, you know, make it meaningful."
The three men chuckled at Danny's whining; thinking of the Pokémon they themselves now owed the psychic gym leader. Koga had bet a voltorb, where as Surge had promised a magnemite, which he now had to procure from somewhere. Brock had promised a baby onix, and was glad that he had had the forethought to start breeding Steelix when he saw that determined look in Ash's eye.
"You should have known that Ash has absolutely no conception of romance," Brock told them. "I think he just woke up the day of his first match and decided he had to tell her without a thought to the potential consequences."
They all laughed in agreement, each of them thinking of evidence they could share of Ash's unromantic side. If the boy ever managed to do something romantic, it would probably be an accident rather than anything intentional.
"Where is Sabrina?" Brock asked as the thought occurred to him, pulling a miniaturized Pokéball from his pocket. "I need to hand over the spoils."
Each turned their head in a different direction in search of the psychic gym leader, but it was Koga who managed to spot her and pointed her out to Brock and the others. Brock gaped, not even recognizing her at first if not for the haunter that hung near her, occasionally frightening other guests just for the hell of it.
It was then that Brock realized it had been more seven years since he had even seen Sabrina who was at the time a frighteningly powerful sixteen-year-old psychic protégée who turned him into a toy doll just for the fun of it. The whole experience was not one of his favourite experiences from the early years of Ash's journey.
She looked nothing like the girl he remembered. Her long jade-black hair was cropped into a shoulder-length bob with an angular shaping, and a side fringe swept across her forehead. Her eyes were shut and a serene look was on her face as she sat alone at her table in pale purple halter-necked, 1950's swing style dress.
In short she was stunning.
Brock quickly masked his thoughts as he moved towards her – a trick he had been taught by a psychic ex-girlfriend who had complained that he kept her up all night with his thoughts. It was a useful skill.
Sabrina didn't even open her eyes as he sat down in the chair beside her and turned it to face her. "Just so you guys know," she said blandly, eyes still closed, but a small smile quirking on her lips, "I'm psychic. Not a pre-cog. I make shit move and occasionally read minds. I do not resort to looking into people's futures as a cheap party trick."
Her eyes finally opened as she spoke disdainfully of the fortune tellers. Brock was momentarily rendered breathless by the beautiful sapphire shade of her eyes. "That's an interesting trick you've got," she said, giving him a curious look and tilting her head to the side. "Where did you learn that?"
He chuckled somewhat apprehensively and told him of his psychic ex, finishing exasperatedly by saying "she said my 'incessant thinking' got on her nerves, but in the end she dumped me because she reckoned I was 'too secretive'."
Laughter escaped Sabrina's scarlet stained lips at the conclusion of his story. "You should know that sort of thing won't work on me," she told him with a sort of glee in her voice, "but I promise not to look seeing as you have gone to the effort. If your thoughts were keeping her up like that, she clearly did not have enough control over her own powers."
"I think she was an empath," Brock shrugged in response.
Sabrina shook her head. "There is no such thing: just high-level psychics that do not have the knowledge or control necessary to target their powers. Although obviously not that high if the masking trick was enough to stump her," she added almost smugly.
Brock laughed at her obvious pride in her abilities. "Is there anyone in the paranormal world that you actually like?" he asked, referring to her earlier comment directed towards fortune tellers.
She looked thoughtful for a few moments. "Medians," she replied. "Psychics are arrogant. Pre-cogs aren't even real. Teleportors are boring. And telekenesics take themselves too seriously. Medians are the only fun ones. I wish I was a median, then I wouldn't have to spend all my time with the rest of them."
"Medians?" he asked disbelievingly. "I thought all that talking to ghost stuff was just a farce."
"And yet you believe in fortune tellers?" she replied pointedly, her expression terribly serious. For a moment they sat in completely silence, eyes locked in some sort of battle, until suddenly the two of the both burst into flurries of laughter.
"I suppose you have something for me," she said, raising an expectant eyebrow in his direction. Brock nodded and rolled the Pokéball across the table towards her.
"So what exactly do you plan to do with all these?" he asked, gesturing to the pile of Pokéballs that lay in the centre of the table.
"There is a sort of outreach programme in Saffron where they give Pokémon to disadvantaged children in the community," she explained to him with a light shrug. "Anything gentle enough goes straight there. I'll trade the others for something more appropriate."
Brock looked impressed. "I never knew you were such a Good Samaritan," he commented.
Sabrina blushed and looked away. "I needed to make up for my past indiscretions," she told him almost sadly, trying to decide whether or not she should remind him of the fact that he wasn't exactly her first victim.
She looked up shyly and the two shared a brief look that wordlessly told her that all was forgiven with regards to being turned into a miniaturised doll. She sighed with relief and smiled slightly as she toyed with the Pokéball she had been handed. "Will I need to trade this?" she asked him curiously.
Brock nodded with a slight grimace. "As gentle as this onix is, even as a baby she's a bit big to keep around the house and she'll eventually be close to thirty feet," Brock admitted. "They're pretty handy around the gym, but not exactly the sort of thing you keep as a house pet."
She gave him a smile and promised to find her a good home.
Brock surveyed the room spotting the various other participants of the bet. "You should get something pretty good from Misty's sisters," he said encouragingly. "They only breed cute Pokémon, although sometimes their definition of cute is almost as twisted as Misty's."
Sabrina's laugh trilled out complacently, sending a thrill of pleasure down his spine. "It doesn't have to be cute," she told him, "just child and household friendly." She looked thoughtful for a moment, and then continued as she looked at her pile of eight or so balls, "do you think I have anything that Misty would be willing to trade for an azurill?" she asked thoughtfully. "I know her marril just had a couple of eggs, but I'm sure those are well sought after."
"Well I know that Danny's getting you a lapras," Brock replied, "and Misty would do practically anything to get one for herself."
Sabrina shook her head. "What is it with you boys and un-house friendly Pokémon?" she asked with a smirk. "Is this another of those size things where you try to see who can promise the biggest Pokémon?"
"Biggest or most dangerous," Brock replied with a shrug, not wanting to comment that he most certainly had won either way. "I wouldn't be surprised if about half the Pokémon you receive know self-destruct."
"Grrreeeat," she drew out painfully. "Any ideas of whose put what into the pool?" she asked him.
Brock nodded. "You should be getting a spinda from Max," he told her. "It's a very child friendly Pokémon. Judging by the markings on that Pokéball," he said, indicating towards a very pristine looking Pokéball with a yin and yang symbol on it, "you've already got Gary's growlithe pup – I just hope he house trained the thing before he gave it to you. Hmmm . . . you should be getting a starter from the professors so those should be safe, although you should try and get the fire-type from Elm as cyndaquil are the most tame.
"I have no idea what you're getting from Jesse and James," he admitted, "although knowing their skills it's probably something simple. You've probably already got Dawn's aipom in your pile somewhere, and whatever May waged is guaranteed to be small and cute."
She smiled widely at him. "You are a handy fellow to know, Brock Slate," she said in reference to his knowledgeableness. "I didn't even realize so many people were in on this."
"It started out small, and then it just spread as they travelled," Brock replied. "Jesse and James have been keeping track of it for the past few years seeing as they're always on call for it. There were close to one hundred Pokémon riding on this thing."
Sabrina gaped in surprise. "I was thinking maybe twenty something. I'm going to have to look for programmes in other cities."
At that point Ash and Misty made their way over, continuing on their efforts to talk to every person in the party. "I see you're collecting your spoils," Misty commented with a wry smile.
Sabrina returned the smile and stood up to greet Misty with a warm hug. "Gary let it slip," Misty explained before Sabrina could ask the question. "Anyway," the redhead continued, "can I get you two legal adults anything from the bar?" she asked them while sending Ash a smirk. Ash rolled his eyes in response.
Brock couldn't help but laugh at his best friends' antics. No matter what sort of relationship they were in, Ash and Misty were always going to be Ash and Misty, and being Misty's boyfriend clearly did not exclude Ash from her teasing. "How about a couple of cocktails?" he asked, looking at Sabrina for confirmation. The psychic nodded, and when Misty asked what in particular they left the choice up to her.
"I don't know why you're letting her get away with this," Brock chuckled to his young accomplished friend.
Ash just shrugged. "It makes her happy," he responded with a whimsical smile. "Anyway, Ma snuck me a beer earlier when Misty wasn't looking."
Sabrina shook her head as a giggle escaped her lips. "Isn't your girlfriend the one who's supposed to sneak you alcohol while your mother isn't looking?" she asked.
"Yeah, but who wants that kind of girlfriend anyway?" Ash countered.
"I'm glad you think that's a good thing," Brock told him. "In fact I'll be sure to remind you guys of it the next time you're at each others throats."
Misty soon returned with two vibrantly coloured drinks – one violet and the other an almost neon green – served in sugar coated martini glasses.
"What exactly are these?" Brock asked suspiciously, staring at the bright green drink that had been handed him with an incredulous look.
Misty sort of shrugged and smiled, allowing Ash to wrap his arm back around her once she was close enough. To be honest, Misty wasn't really much of a drinker herself and had only ordered the drinks in order to rub Ash's nose in the fact that she was old enough to drink and therefore more mature (which in no way proved her point). The drinks were nothing recognisable. Admittedly, she had just picked the prettiest coloured alcohol off the shelves, added a shot of gin and then mixed them until she liked the colour. Both drinks were then topped with lemonade.
She did, however, go to the trouble of naming her concoctions so they seemed legitimate, using their vibrant colours as the basis for the nomenclature. "That one is called 'Blue Hour'," she said, pointing to the drink she offered Sabrina that was the colour of dusk, "and that one is called 'Cerulean Emerald'," she finished pointing to Brock's.
They each smiled at her gratefully as she waited for them to taste, raising her eyebrow pointedly at their reluctance. "Bottom's up?" Brock suggested, smiling at Sabrina as the pair lifted their glasses. They were surprised that the concoctions were actually drinkable. They were surprisingly sweet and fruity. Brock's drink had a rather unexpected liquorice after taste that seemed to settle warmly in the pit of his stomach. He smiled at the redhead and complimented her on her selection before letting Misty continue in her unofficial hostess duties.
Brock spent the rest of the evening with Sabrina. She was well abreast of any and all the Kanto gossip, plus some from other regions. She knew who was dating whom, who was sleeping with whom, and who wanted to be sleeping with whom. Plus all the machinations of the league itself and who was about to stab who in the back for an unlikely promotion.
Misty came back to visit them every now and then with her latest concoction. The two suspected it was because they were the only ones brave enough to try what Misty offered them and so she was becoming accustomed to using them as her guinea pigs. Even the bartender had turned his nose up at the adult traffic lights (also known as the 'Undesignated Driver') she had come up with.
Five hours and just as many cocktail later, Brock and Sabrina stumbled into her hotel room to continue their conversation. They were both tipsy, but not quite drunk. The best description of their states was probably 'uninhibited' as both were able to be the truest versions of themselves.
Pleasantly uninhibited by alcohol, Brock found himself slipping back into his old ways. He grasped her hand in his two, and said the first thing that came to his mind, "I wish I had a rose with me," he told her desperately. "Because then I could prove to everyone that it really wasn't the most beautiful flower in existence. You're so lovely and fragrant, I bet people tell you that all the time."
Her reaction was unlike any woman he had ever attempted to pick up before. She blushed prettily, not even attempting to remove her hand from his, and then she laughed in an unrestrained manner.
For a few moments he just gaped at her response, and then without thinking he leaned in and silenced her with a clumsy kiss. She was stunned at first, but after a few moments she returned his kiss and drew him closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. Brock took that as a sign to continue kissing. They haphazardly began moving towards the bedroom, shedding items of clothing as they went. By the time they reached the bedroom, she was down to just her underwear, and he to his pants.
Pressing down into the bed, matters seemed to escalate as drunken hands fidgeted with clasps and zips and the last vestiges of clothing were removed. With all barriers removed, things continued unabated to their usual conclusion – two figures coming together in a darkened hotel room.
Brock lay on his side facing the wall when it was over. The feelings of inhibition and bravery were wearing off along with his alcohol buzz, and they were replaced by anxiety and regret. He was sure that he had made a fool of himself, and he was sure that he had taken advantage of her in some way. He silently admonished his own stupidity.
The feelings of anxiousness seemed to overpower the earlier feelings of utter bliss that receded to the back of his mind, and so he did what he always did when he was feeling nervous. He began to talk, babbling about anything that came to mind like the fool he knew he was.
"My favourite type of Pokémon is totodile," he said, his voice breaking through the stillness. He spoke into the wall, and didn't turn to face her, although he was sure she was listening to him by the small gasp like noise she made. "I think most people think my favourite Pokémon is onix, but it's not; it's totodile.
"And I'm pretty sure there's something disloyal in me saying that," he continued, his voice faltering slightly as he realized how stupid he probably sounded. "I'm a gym leader for Pewter and here I am saying that I like a water Pokémon that's not even native to Kanto, but I like them. They're pretty cool," he shrugged.
He felt the mattress shift as she turned to face him and did the same. She looked as nervous as he did, and for that he was somewhat grateful.
"I'm not really sure I have a favourite type of Pokémon," she admitted, glancing briefly at his eyes and then looking away. "I haven't really travelled that much, so I only really know the Pokémon that can be found around Saffron and it's mostly psychic. I saw a phanpy once, I thought it was pretty cute."
"Ash had one that he raised form an egg," Brock told her. The conversation was making them both more at ease as it progressed, and he was grateful when he saw a small smile pull onto her lips.
And that was how it began. At some point Sabrina had come up with their arrangement, and at the time it had seemed reasonable to Brock. He wasn't really looking for anything serious, and neither was she. They had good chemistry and they had a good time together – that was all that mattered.
It was rare for them to see each other outside of their trysts – although they shared a circle of friends and acquaintances, both lived busy lives and their schedules rarely aligned. But whenever they came together, they would spend the quite moments in the afterglow quietly conversing with their heads close together until one or both of them fell to sleep. They'd fallen easily into the routine, like any creatures of habit.
It was easy enough to begin with.
Sabrina would call him every once and a while, they'd meet somewhere between Saffron and Viridian, and they'd spend the night together. Sometimes they'd see each other at conferences or event with their shared group of friends, and they'd acknowledge one another as the colleagues/acquaintances they were and nothing more.
For a while, everything went smoothly and according to plan. Things would have continued to do so if it weren't for him and his pesky feelings. He looked forward to seeing her just to talk to her - he longed for the conversation and the chance to see a version of her that no one else knew.
Soon he was almost resenting the physical side of their relationship. He wanted to be with her – there wasn't anyone else in the world that he would rather be with at any moment in the day. But he wanted to be more than just her occasional lover. He wanted to be a friend, a companion, a partner even. Someone who could share her life with her.
But this was the only way he could be with her, and the simple truth was that, more than a year later, he couldn't be without her.
~ to be continued ~
Now that all of the set-up is out of the way, we can start moving forward with the story. Next chapter picks up from where Chapter 1 left off.