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.

15. The Forbidden Fruit: Citrus paradise – Deliverance

It didn't take them long to get things the way they wanted in their new home and settle into the new surroundings. For both of them it was the first time that they'd lived in an actual house, and not in a gym or apartment or living on the road going from Pokémon Centre to Pokémon Centre as Brock had in his youth. Although living in the fully detached structure didn't take all that much getting used to.

What struck Sabrina more than anything else was the fact that this was a home. Not just a place to be sheltered and fed, but a place to grow and nurture and make her own. A place where she would come to at the end of the day and be welcomed by rich scents of hearty stew or roast dinner and the soft murmuring of friends and family.

Without even meaning to, her nesting instincts had kicked in. She blamed Brock in part, as it was on his insistence that she'd finally gone on maternity leave just 8 weeks out from her due date. Suddenly she had a lot of time on her hands and the irrepressible urge to launder and re-launder all their baby things and clean every available surface in preparation for the baby.

"I'm glad your husband put his foot down," her mother said from the seat beside her while they folded the re-laundered stack of onesies. Said husband was currently at the gym taking on some of the more general and mundane responsibilities of gym leader on her behalf while one of her alternates battled in her place.

Sabrina scowled, not at all in agreement.

Her mother just laughed at her expression. "Oh dear, you're just sour because it's the first time he's not let you get your way," Sophia teased her with a bright laugh. "You'll see he's right.

"You know first babies always come early," she added by way of explanation. "And with you in a cleaning frenzy like this, I'd say your little man" -she smiled at the endearment - "is not too far away."

"He better not be," Sabrina answered warily, her hand moving gently over her stomach. "I need him to stay where it's safe for at least the next 8 weeks. I'm not ready for him to be here yet. We don't even have a name."

Sophia waved off her concerns with a flick of her hand. "Sometimes a name doesn't come to you until you know who it's meant for," she said, sounding wise and philosophical in that sanctimonious way that all the psychics around her always spoke. "You were going to be called Morgan, you know. And then I saw you and I knew exactly the name – I just had to convince everybody else of it. You were Sabrina-for-now right up until the moment the birth certificate was signed."

"Still, I want him to stay where he is for as long as possible," Sabrina protested, her arms folding over her stomach. At seven months she was finally looking pregnant in a way that couldn't be disguised by a floaty top or a strategically placed pattern.

Her mother smiled sympathetically, sharing in the unsaid sentiment. There was only so much that you could protect your child from once they were in the world. Right now he was safe from all of that and she just wanted to keep him there for as long as possible.

"You and Brock are going to be such good parents," Sophia told her with a warm smile. "Whether he comes next week or holds on 'til Christmas, you won't be ready," she added with a laugh. "In fact you could have ten more children and you still won't be ready for what the next one comes up with.

"But you'll have each other and I know that whatever happens, the two of you will be able to get through it together."

Sabrina smiled, comforted by her mother's reassurance. In the end, there was nothing that would ever prepare her and make her feel ready for having a child and being a mother. The only thing that seemed to give her even the modicum of confidence to face the challenges that were ahead of her was knowing that she didn't have to face them alone.

"I don't know what I'd do without him," Sabrina said, putting those thoughts into words and speaking them aloud to another person for the first time. "He's been amazing through this whole thing, even with all the changes that we've been through. His life haas changed in more ways than mine - new city, new job, new house.

"And our lives about to change again and it scares me," she admitted, her voice becoming quieter. "But I think of how much scarier it would be if I didn't have him to support me. If I had to do this with anyone else …"

"He's been good for you," Sophia agreed, nodding thoughtfully. "I should have known that you were seeing someone sooner – you've been so much more at peace with yourself for the past year. Now that I know how long you were together, the cause seems rather obvious."

"Really?" Sabrina asked, surprised to learn that there had been any noticeable change in herself. Then again, her mother wasn't the only person who had pointed out how bad her subterfuge had been in pretending she wasn't in a relationship. In fact, the only person she'd managed to fool in that respect was herself.

Sophia nodded and smiled knowingly. "I think you both bring out the best in each other," she said, with an air of wisdom. "He has a calmness and constancy about him – I think you need that sometimes to keep you grounded. He's very easy going – he probably needs to be around you," she added with a laugh that made Sabrina scowl at the jest, "– but he knows when to stand his ground and when he needs to push back.

"And I think he needs to be pushed too, sometimes," she continued in a slightly more speculative tone, not knowing Brock nearly as well she did her daughter. "He needs some of your drive – someone to make him take risks and step out of his comfort zone."

Sabrina thought of the Breeding Centre in Viridian. It was a comfortable existence, but there was only so far that the business could expand in Viridian given the highly competitive market and within the constraints of his partnership with Suzie. He'd needed a reason to take a chance and strike out on his own, and she'd given him that when she agreed to be his wife.

"That's why I think the two of you are such a good match," Sophia finished, smiling at her own conclusion. "You balance each other. Your strengths are the other's weaknesses."

"You don't wish he was from a psychic lineage?" Sabrina asked, the words coming out unbidden before she could think too much of them or the bitter way they coated her throat.

Her mother frowned at her. "I take if you've spoken to your father recently," she queried, though it was hardly a question, guessing the source of this inquiry. Both knew that Sabrina cared little for psychic lineages. Harold Le Fay, on the other hand, thought it the only thing worth considering when it came to marriages.

As Sabrina nodded, Sophia cooed sympathetically and wrapped her in a hug.

"I don't know why I let him upset me," Sabrina admitted bitterly. "I guess I thought that I could tell him about Brock and his grandson, and that he'd actually be happy for us."

Sophia pulled away, forcing Sabrina to meet her gaze as she said firmly, "Nothing can make that man happy, Sabrina." Her expression was almost stony and conveyed layers of meaning. "You and I," she said more gently, "we've both tried to make him happy – in so many ways – and all it ever did was make us miserable instead."

Sabrina nodded. This was nothing new for either of them. The both of them had been nothing but a disappointment for the great Harold Le Fay.

"I don't know why I thought this would be different," she said sadly, her eyes flitting away from her mother's firm gaze. "Nothing I've done has ever been good enough.

"But he just …" she began to say, trailing off as though the words – terrible as they were – refused to come out. "He thinks it's all some huge mistake."

"Oh, Sabrina, princess," her mother said, gently holding onto her hands. "I wish things had gone the way you wanted. I'm so sorry, darling."

"He always … I can't …" she began, struggling to find the words. "He gets into my head," she eventually confessed. "And I can't shake the thought that somehow … maybe he's right?"

"About Brock?" Sophia asked, surprise evident in her voice and her expression creasing into a frown. "Sabrina, I know that nothing was as you planned, but – "

"No, not like that," Sabrina said, not even letting her mother voice the suggestion. "Not Brock. Never Brock," she added with certainty. For all her fears and uncertainties about the future, that was the one thing she could be sure of.

But she continued, her certainty unravelling as she confessed her concerns and put the things that had been bothering her into words. "More like … me," she said in a small voice. "Like maybe Brock is the one making the mistake."

Whatever strength was keeping her sobs at bay crumbled as soon as the words left her mouth and she swayed into her mother's embrace like a falling tree. It was as though finally speaking the words aloud had broken a dam on her emotions that she hadn't allowed to be breached. She buried her face against her mother's chest and let herself be comforted as she confessed to the terrible nightmares that had been dogging her ever since the visit with her father.

Almost every other night since the restaurant, his insidious taunt had followed her into sleep, haunting her dreams with her deepest fears and worst case imaginings. She saw herself and Brock turned into little toy dolls – just like the one she'd turned her own mother into during the worst point in her lust for power. She saw the complete destruction of the gym that she had built and rebuilt, her beloved Pokémon practically mindless zombies following the orders of their power mad master. She saw a tall, male figure cloaked in darkness, a shell of a human being, holding a porcelain doll in his arms much like the one in which she had placed her own emotions.

She'd wake in tears, crying out in fear and anguish. And Brock would comfort her and reassure her with his stoicism and his belief. As long as Brock was with her, it felt like she could do anything - that there was nothing that they couldn't face together. But then the thought would weasel back in and she'd have another nightmare before long and the cycle would start all over again.

Choking back her sobs, Sabrina attempted to put all of her fears into words. "I don't know what's going to happen and the baby – he's so strong already," she said brokenly. "You don't know the things that he can do. And Brock is so good – he doesn't deserve – he deserves so much more …"

She lifted her head, eyes watery with half unshed tears as she finally made herself say it out loud. "What if he's like me?"

"Sabrina," her mother began, but Sabrina cut her off before she could go further.

"I don't want … I don't think he realizes," she said, stringing together her unfinished thoughts until she could finally form a coherent sentence. "I don't think he realizes what it could mean. And I don't want that for him. I just want him to have a normal life with a normal wife and baby – and I can't give him that."

"Oh, princess," Sophia cooed softly, her words full of pity and comfort. She spoke quietly – barely louder than whisper – but with total conviction. "Even on your worst days you are the best thing that ever happened to me.

"I wish – I wish I'd been strong enough to stand up to your father back then," she continued, guilt heavy on those words. "And I know how scary this all seems right now.

"Whatever else happens," she said, her eyes glistening with tears, "your little boy is going to be the luckiest boy on the planet. He will be the most dear – he'll have you and Brock and all your friends looking out for him. He'll have me and his other grandparents and his aunts and uncles and all your Pokémon.

"There will never be a day in his life when he doesn't feel loved and cherished," Sophia promised her sincerely.

Sabrina nodded, feeling some of that weight lifting from her with those words.

"And whatever it is that you think that Brock deserves," Sophia continued more firmly, "that's not up to you, Sabrina. You and the baby – you are what he wants."

That night she had a dream.

From the start it was different from the other nightmares that she'd had. For one thing she was aware that she was dreaming, although she had no control over the dream plane – so to speak – despite the feeling of lucidity.

The second difference was one of perspective. She was down low, looking up. And when she glanced down at her hands they were a shade or so darker than her own, and much smaller – like those of a child. She had never dreamed that she was in the body of another person, and the concept did not appeal to her on any level.

She was sitting down in a familiar room and it took her a while to realise that she was sitting in the lounge downstairs. There was another boy in the room sitting in the middle of the rug, his eyes closed as he moved a set of toy blocks into randomly arranged piles, building them and unbuilding them with swift, assured movements of his hands. Like her, the boy had an olive hue to his skin. His hair was dark brown, almost black and cut short. He couldn't have been more than four or five by her guess.

There was no denying the family resemblance when she looked at this boy. He was a little tiny Brock with a strong square jaw and soft smile. She looked for signs of herself in the boy – maybe his nose was a bit more narrow like her own or his lips more full – anything to tell her whether she'd contributed to the beautiful looking child before her.

Confirmation came a moment later when he opened his eyes – eye glowing an eerie blue. All the loose objects in the room were encased in a similar glow and everything but the furniture was lifted up by half a meter. The objects hung in the air for a moment, and then they started to move, swirling quickly through the air around them, dipping up and down as the mood struck.

'No', Sabrina thought to herself, eyes watering as she watched the scene play out just like every other one of her nightmares. This was not what she wanted for her children. She didn't want them to go through the same things she did. She didn't want them losing themselves to this power and being absorbed in the consuming need for control. She'd had to cut off a part of herself just to keep her powers in control, and she didn't want her son doing the same.

There was nothing she could do to stop it, her powers seeming null in this form. Books, photo frames, tirnkets, and toys all kept swirling around the room at high speed, and her son just sat in the middle of it all, not even seeming aware of what was happening around him.

"Henry!" a voice called out, and Brock was suddenly appearing in the doorway looking slightly distraught. It was an older Brock – maybe ten or so years – with features more refined by age. He looked – from her suddenly small stature – tall and imposing, the light from behind highlighting his figure as he stepped into the room, ducking to avoid the speeding objects until he was able to reach the boy in the centre, lifting the child easily into his arms.

"Henry, what are you doing?" he asked, frowning in concern. The blue glow dimmed as his words reached the child, and everything around them stopped mid movement and dropped suddenly to the ground.

"Huh?" the little boy asked, blue eyes blinking at his father in confusion. Brock nodded over his shoulder, gesturing to the mess behind him. "Oh that," the boy replied sheepishly.

"Yeah that, Henry," Brock replied with a stony expression. "What did we tell you about practicing without your mother?"

"I know, dad," the little boy sighed, "but I wanted to show her how good I'd gotten."

Brock gave him a reassuring smile and gently gripped the child close in a hug. "I know you do, buddy," he replied, "but until you've got complete control over things you're just going to have to be patient and wait for your mom so she can help you.

"Now let's get this all cleaned up before mom gets back, okay?" Brock suggested, lowering little boy back down to the ground. "You too, Mal," he said, waving Sabrina over from where she stood in the doorway.

She joined the two of them in the living room, watching in awe as Brock treated the whole occurrence as though it was part of the norm and nothing to be concerned about. When he looked in her direction she couldn't help but smile back at him.

"I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, Mal," Brock responded automatically, although not without meaning. "C'mere, little man," he said, wrapping herself and the other little boy up together in a single embrace.

She woke gradually after that, other small snippets of a life together easing her back into wakefulness. As she returned to consciousness she felt more settled than she had in weeks.

Finally she understood that whatever dark future she was imagining in her nightmares was simply impossible.

Her son would likely match her in terms of psychic ability and even if he didn't it hardly mattered. What mattered is that he would never have the lust for power that had driven her to cut her soul into pieces. He wouldn't need it like she had.

Because he would have Brock.

And whatever parts he inherited from her – her powers, her drive, her shrewdness and singlemindedness – would always be tempered by the best parts of Brock, a man who was patient and caring and almost pathologically selfless. Her son would be loved unconditionally regardless of how powerful he was or what he achieved.

He would be loved by both his parents.

She would ensure it.

And so would Brock.

Feeling calmed by that knowledge she lay back down beside her husband, curling into his side and gently urged him awake.

He came to groggily at first, and then with a start as he realised that she was the one waking him.

"Did you have another nightmare?" he asked, his brow furrowed with concern as he turned towards her wrapped her in a protective embrace.

"Sort of," she answered with a small smile, "but I know it's going to be okay now.

"I was worried," she admitted to her husband. "I was scared he was going to be just like me."

"Sabrina – " Brock began to console, but she cut him before he could continue.

"It's okay if he's like me," she said, the words truer than she ever expected them to be, "just as long as he like you too.

"And I think we should call him Malachi," she added, almost as an aside as another part of her dream lingered in her mind. "Mal for short."

"He sounds perfect," Brock whispered back almost reverently.

Feeling her eyes well with tears, Sabrina continued. "I never thought I could love something this much," she said, her words catching in the back of her throat. "You and our son … you are the most important …

"I love you," she finished, having no better words than those to convey her feelings. She smiled through her tears, knowing that Brock had known her feelings long before she'd been brave enough to utter them aloud.

Smiling back, he kissed her gently, whispering "I love you, too" into her hair as he coaxed her back to sleep.

~ Epilogue

Malachi Joseph Yamatto Slate was born in the early hours of the morning on November 1st. As predicted by his maternal grandmother he was several weeks early, but other than that his birth had been somewhat uneventful.

Although they'd agreed on the name Malachi, it wasn't until she was holding him in his that she knew for sure. The moment that she met the silver-eyed gaze of her sleepy baby boy she knew that this was Malachi – Mal for short – and that none of the other names they'd been considering would ever fit him so perfectly.

Learning to parent was hard, but they learned together. And just when they thought they were getting good at it, the twins – Soraya and Ethan – showed up to show them they still had a lot to learn. The twins were a handful and chock-full of psychic ability that they would eventually learn to master under their mother's careful tutelage.

And so it wasn't until almost three years later that Brock was able to open the Slate Breeding Centre in Saffron City. It had taken longer than they'd anticipated to bring the business together, but Brock didn't regret taking his time in setting up his business or the time that it had allowed him to spend with his family by taking things slow and building the contacts he needed along the way.

No, his only regret was inviting Ash and Misty Ketchum to the grand opening. Who – in typical Ash and Misty fashion – had stolen the show with the unintended announcement that Mal, Ethan, and Soraya would be meeting their new best friend in the not too distant future.

~FIN~

And that's a wrap. Thank you again to everyone who favourited, alerted, reviewed, and read this very self-indulgent piece of fanfiction. As much as I adore this ship - which I think I am basically the captain of - I think my main motivation in writing this was giving Brock a bit of care and attention and devoting a multi-chaptered fic to his character and happy ending

Based on some notes I made, I think my intention was for Brock and Sabrina to have a second wedding in the epilogue, but I decided short and sweet was the way to go with this. Plus I just love the idea of Ash obsessing about his and Brock's kids being best friends and Ash and Misty ruining important moments in Brock's life.

I'm trying to make an effort right now to finish some of my WIPs, so hopefully I'll have some more completed fics to share with you soon.