Here's chapter two, at long last. Hopefully future updates won't be quite so far apart - and there you go, now I've jinxed it. Expect the next instalment in the year 2006. Anyway, that's enough babbling from me. On with the fic!

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The Oldest Established

The first words out of Brock's mouth were, "Did you find a place?"

"Keep it down, wouldya?" Ash hissed, looking around frantically as though Jenny was going to leap out from behind a pillar and arrest him. "No, I didn't. I don't know what I'm going to do."

He let Brock drag him into the waiting area, which luckily was empty. "There's nowhere free," Ash repeated, to underscore the point. He set down his cup of coffee on the table. "I've looked everywhere."

Brock nodded grimly. "You're going to have to be careful, Ash," he said. "Giselle's on to you. She's going to be breathing down everyone's necks. I bet she's got people looking out for you in all the cities around here – it's probably thanks to her that the usual places have dried up." A dreamy look stole over his face. "That woman sure is thorough..."

Ash waited a few seconds, and then waved a hand in front of his friend's face. "Hello, Earth to Brock. What am I going to do?"

Brock looked slightly annoyed at having his reverie interrupted. "Well, I guess there's always Gary," he said shortly.

Gary had moved back to Pallet Town two years ago and started his own research lab as a branch of his grandfather's. Professor Oak was now getting on in years, and appreciated the help. Gary had reacted with some amusement when he first learned of Ash's position, but had offered to loan him the use of his lab if a crisis ever arose. The only problem was, Gary being Gary, any help from his quarter was going to come at a price: specifically, one thousand dollars. It wasn't that Gary needed or even particularly cared about the money, but he and Ash had a history, and he couldn't resist needling his old rival once in a while.

"I can't afford to pay Gary," Ash complained. "I'm broke! I couldn't even get a present for Misty." He grimaced. "She isn't going to be happy when she finds out..."

"Would that be why you haven't returned any of her calls?" Brock asked shrewdly.

"Something like that," Ash admitted.

"What's the occasion, anyway?" A look of alarm sped suddenly over Brock's face. "It's not her birthday, is it?"

"Nah, it's our anniversary," said Ash, smiling proudly. "Me and Misty have been engaged for seven years today."

Brock looked as though he were trying to find the best way of phrasing what he wanted to say. "Um, Ash, I don't know if you realise this, but usually when people get engaged, the plan is to eventually get married."

Ash began to choke on the sip of coffee he had just drunk. Brock reached over and thumped him on the back until he could breathe again. "I'm just saying," he protested at the scowl Ash was sending his way. "Misty's not exactly the patient sort. You can't put it off forever."

"Well... I was going to marry her sooner or later..." Ash mumbled.

"Ash, it's been seven years. I think it's a bit late to be sooner."

"But when I first proposed to her, you said we were way too young to be getting married!"

"Yes, and you were - back then. I didn't expect you to take me to heart to this extent. You're twenty-three now, Ash."

Ash squirmed. It wasn't that he didn't love Misty, but there was something about marriage in general that sent off panic-signals in his brain. He wondered if it was genetic – he had once overheard his mother complaining to her friends about the length of time it had taken her to persuade Mr. Ketchum Senior to tie the knot. "Well... I'll talk to her about it later," he said uncomfortably. "What are we gonna do about the tournament?"

To his relief, Brock let the marriage-matter drop. "I guess if you don't have the money to pay Gary now, you could always try to earn it somehow."

"Yeah, that'll work," said Ash sarcastically. "Come on, Brock, if there was a job out there for me that paid a thousand dollars a day, I'd have retaken those stupid League exams years ago. I need a different plan."

The two men lapsed into silence, each preoccupied with his own thoughts. Pikachu soon got bored of watching them, and scampered off in search of a bottle of ketchup; Nurse Joy could usually be relied upon to provide one.

Before a plan could spring to either of their minds, however, they were interrupted by the door sliding open. An excited, pimpled face appeared around the edge, beaming from ear to ear; Ash recognised its owner as one of the regulars in the tournaments.

"Hey, Ash! Fancy running into you here!"

"Hey, Benny," Ash replied dully. He wasn't really in the mood to deal with a hyperactive teenager.

Benny didn't seem deterred by Ash's lack of enthusiasm. "You'll never guess what!" he burbled, pushing his glasses further up his nose. "I've been telling everybody – I just saw Drew getting off the train into Viridian! The famous co-ordinator!"

That got Ash's attention. "Are you serious?" he exclaimed.

"Sure I'm serious! And what's more, I think he's coming this way! To the Pokémon Centre!"

Brock let out a long, low whistle. "What's Drew doing coming near a Pokémon Centre?" he asked. "I thought he was rolling in it."

Benny shrugged. "Who knows? The important thing is, I bet you could persuade him to come to the tournament, Ash! This could be the biggest night of your career!"

Ash chuckled bitterly. He was about to make some dark comment on the likelihood of there even being a tournament, when the germ of an idea suddenly came to him. A famous co-ordinator was in town... and he was rich... and he was the kind of guy who might enjoy a few secret Pokémon battles...

"You really think he'd come, huh?" he said thoughtfully.

"Sure he would!" said Benny. "He's always hanging around at places like yours! The police have tried to arrest him dozens of times, but he always has an alibi – they'll never catch him, that's for sure."

Ash nodded, half to himself. "Thanks, Benny," he said. "I'll ask him."

Benny looked ecstatic. "Wow, I'm going to meet a famous co-ordinator," he breathed. "I gotta go tell my mom!"

With that, he vanished. Ash gazed after him, wheels turning in his head.

"Say, Brock?"

"Mmm?"

"What if I found this Drew guy, and asked him to come to the tournament – and then I borrowed the thousand off him?"

Brock folded his arms, considering. "Well, Ash, there are two tiny flaws in that plan. Firstly, why would Drew loan a thousand dollars to a guy he doesn't know? And secondly, how do you plan to pay it back?"

Ash's face fell. "Oh yeah." It looked like he was already back to square one.

"I think you're on the right track, though," Brock added. "You just need to find a different way of getting the thousand off him."

Ash stared at him. Surely Brock wasn't suggesting he steal it? Unlicensed Pokémon battles were one thing, but theft?

"How much do you know about Drew?" Brock said.

"He's a co-ordinator... and famous... and rich... and called Drew?"

"So, not a lot?"

"No," Ash admitted.

Brock segued smoothly into 'lecture' mode. "Drew is one of the most successful co-ordinators alive. Of course, there aren't that many co-ordinators with licenses – they were hit pretty hard by the League's exams – but this guy was doing well even before those laws were passed. He's made a pile of cash, so now he spends his time travelling all over the world."

"Sounds like things worked out pretty well for him."

"Yeah, they did. Now he's influential enough to get away with pretty much anything. Well, you heard what Benny said."

"So he wouldn't have a problem with..." Ash trailed off, giving Brock a significant look.

Brock rolled his eyes. "Ash. We're alone. You can say it."

"Right." Ash coughed. "So... how do I get him to give me the money?"

"Well, the other thing that Drew's famous for is as a gambler. He likes to make weird bets on things – which raindrop will beat another down a window, or which lump of sugar a fly will sit on; y'know, crazy stuff. He usually wins, too - he has an amazing amount of luck. I heard that one time he was sick and wouldn't take any medicine, because he'd bet some guy that his temperature would go to a hundred and four or higher."

"And did it?"

Brock smiled. "Went to a hundred and six."

"Wow, that's pretty lucky," Ash remarked. Suddenly, realisation struck. "Are you saying I should bet him a thousand bucks on something?"

"Well, I can't think of any other way to get hold of that kind of money. If you lose, though, you're in big trouble."

Ash just laughed. "Oh, come on, Brock, I'm not afraid of a little bet! I'd take him on any time, on anything!" He rested his chin on his hands, abruptly making the shift from confident to pensive. "Now I only have to think of a bet I know I can't lose..."

"That's what I thought," said Brock dryly. "Any ideas?"

Ash considered. "You said he likes crazy bets, right? Do you think I could get him to put money on you scoring a date with Nurse Joy?"

For some reason, Brock glared at him. Ash had meant it as a serious question. Some people sure were touchy.

"Well, something to do with the Pokémon Centre, anyway." He cast his mind over normal Centre activities. Getting Pokémon healed... staying the night... eating in the cafeteria...

"Food," he mused aloud. "I could make a bet about food."

"Now there's a surprise," Brock smirked.

Ash ignored him. "What kind of food does the Pokémon Centre sell?"

Brock began to count on his fingers. "They do pasta, meat sauces, eggs, toast, strudel, cheesecake..."

"Oh, yeah." Ash smiled in fond remembrance of many a good meal. The cheesecake was particularly delicious. He happened to know that Brock preferred the strudel, though...

Aha.

"That's it!" he cried, banging his fist on the table. "That's my bet!"

"What?"

Ash rubbed his hand, a plan formulating in his mind. "Brock, could you go to the kitchen and ask them how many pieces of cheesecake and strudel they sold yesterday?"

Brock stared at him, bemused. "What do you want to know that for?"

"Never mind, just go!"

Brock gave a sigh of resignation, stood up and headed towards the kitchens. Ash knew that it would take a while for him to return; both of the cooks were women in their twenties. That gave him some time to wait for Drew.

He walked back into the lobby, where he found Nurse Joy shooing Pikachu out of the door to the canteen. It hopped into Ash's arms, three sachets of ketchup clutched triumphantly in its paws.

"We've gotta hang around for a bit longer, Pikachu," said Ash, taking one of the packets and tearing it open.

Pikachu didn't seem too concerned with the wait, now that it had the ketchup to tide it over. It gave a tiny "chu," and started cheerfully guzzling away. Ash drifted into a corner, where he could keep an eye on the door without being too conspicuous. His patience was soon rewarded; no later than two minutes after taking up his post, the doors swung open, and a man stepped inside.

There could be no doubt that this was Drew. He wore a dark blue suit that probably cost more than Ash's entire wardrobe, with six Poké-balls clipped onto the belt. His steel-blue eyes glimmered with intelligence and, if Ash was any judge, a hint of arrogance, too. He strolled up to the reception desk with an easy grace, retrieving a wallet from his pocket and flipping it open.

Ash began to sidle closer, prepared to stage a fame-struck recognition and invite Drew to get a bite to eat. However, before he could take more than a couple of steps, somebody tapped him on the shoulder. Annoyed, he turned around, and recognised the Pokémon Centre's receptionist.

"Are you a Mr. Ketchum?" the woman asked.

"Yeah, that's me," said Ash.

"I have someone on one of the pay-phones for you."

Ash shot a glance back at Drew, who was writing his signature for Nurse Joy. "Er... could I call them back in half an hour?" he asked.

"The lady on the other end of the line told me that if you said that, I was to inform you that, ah, 'there's a mallet over here with your name on it, so quit stalling and get a move on'."

That could only be Misty. Ash peered at the reception desk again in desperation; Drew had just thanked Nurse Joy and was now heading into the cafeteria. He really didn't have time - but he couldn't keep blowing Misty off, either...

"Oh... all right."

This would have to be the quickest conversation of his life. Ash hurried into the next room, where a row of phone booths stood. The nearest one displayed an image of a red-haired woman, drumming her fingers on the tabletop.

"Hey," said Ash, sliding into the chair.

Misty jumped. "Ash! Where have you been? I've been trying to get hold of you for three whole days."

"Oh... I've been around." Anxious to avoid further questioning, Ash flashed a huge smile and said, "Happy anniversary, Misty!"

She smiled back, looking greatly relieved. "Happy anniversary. I got you a present." She reached below the level of the screen, and held up a medium-sized box. "You wanna wait 'til I see you in person, or open it now?"

Ash had never possessed a scrap of patience where presents were concerned. When he was a child, his mother always had to attach a bell above his door so that he couldn't sneak downstairs at four a.m. on Christmas day and unwrap everything.

"Open it now!"

"Pi-pi-pi!"

Laughing at his and Pikachu's enthusiasm, Misty slid a finger under the join and peeled away the paper. Underneath was a cardboard box, the lid of which she removed, to reveal -

"A belt?" said Ash.

It was indeed a new brown belt, with fasteners around the edges to hold Poké-balls in place.

"There's a poem, too," said Misty, pulling out a piece of paper and holding it up to the screen.

Ash read it aloud. "'Sugar is sweet, and so is jelly - so put this belt around your belly'."

"My sisters wrote it," Misty confessed.

Ash could believe that. "It's... nice."

"Pi-kachu," muttered Pikachu, looking revolted.

"Well, we can swap gifts when you come by the gym tonight. You did say you'd visit, didn't you?"

"Yeah," said Ash, shifting in his seat. "Um, Mist? About your present..."

"Hmm?"

Ash hesitated, plausible and not-so-plausible excuses running through his brain. "I wanted to get you a wrist watch made out of solid gold, with diamonds and rubies set all around it."

Misty gasped. "Oh, Ash! You shouldn't have!"

"Then that's OK!" said Ash, brightening. "I didn't."

Misty face-faulted.

"Sorry," said Ash sheepishly. "I've spent all my money on rent - the newspaper stand isn't doing so well right now." Privately, he had to admit that it would likely do better if he weren't always busy with the tournament, but he didn't imagine that Misty would look kindly upon that reasoning. He'd gone to great lengths to conceal his doings from her for the past eight years, and he had no intentions of breaking the habit now.

Misty climbed back into her seat, looking disgruntled, but clearly wanting not to spoil their anniversary by yelling. "Well... never mind," she said. "I guess you can make it up to me some other time." Suddenly, she gave a huge sneeze, making Ash and Pikachu jump. "Sorry – it's this stupid cold –" She patted her pockets for a tissue.

For the last few months, Misty had suffered from a persistent cold that refused to relinquish its grip on her, no matter how many remedies she tried. The phenomena had baffled Ash, Brock, Tracey, Professor Oak, Misty herself and every doctor in three cities.

"Oh yeah, how is your cold?" asked Ash.

"The same," Misty sighed, her voice even more muffled than normal due to her face being buried in a wad of Kleenex. "Lily is making me hang seaweed over my bed – she reckons it'll help. I tried to tell her she's thinking of how to figure out if it's going to rain, but she wouldn't listen. I'll tell you, Ash, if you can find me a cure, that can count as your anniversary and Christmas present to me."

"You got yourself a deal," Ash joked. Upon reflection, he added, "Although I'd probably just forget or something..."

Misty finished blowing her nose and snorted, "You don't have to tell me that. Oh well... I guess if we're going to be married, I should probably get used to you forgetting to buy me stuff."

It was Ash's turn to fall off his chair. Pikachu leapt on top of the phone just in time. "Piiii-ka!" it snapped at its trainer.

Ash hauled himself upright. "Ow! Heh, sorry about that. Uh... the seat must be slippery." He chanced a quick glance at his watch. Four precious minutes had already gone by. "Listen, I really am sorry about the present. But I swear, some day the stand will take off, and you'll have more diamonds than Madam Muchmoney!"

Misty smiled fondly at him. "Ash, don't worry about it. I know it's been hard for you, not being able to train Pokémon all this time. I'm just glad I'm a gym leader and didn't have to take those tests – they sound totally unfair."

Ash could tell she was trying to show solidarity, and was grateful for it. Misty may be blunt by nature, but sometimes she knew exactly what to say.

He had just opened his mouth to tell her this, when something poked him in the back.

"Sixty portions of cheesecake, and seventy-five of strudel," Brock's voice hissed in his ear.

Ash froze. "What did you say?"

"Sixty cheesecake, seventy-five strudel," Brock repeated.

"What are you talking about?" asked Misty.

"Nothing," said Ash automatically. "Are you sure?" he whispered to Brock.

"Yeah."

It was all coming together. The Pokémon Centre's cheesecake was famous throughout Viridian; Ash would never have believed it could sell worse than another dessert. "Perfect. OK, thanks, Brock."

Brock nodded, waved to Misty, and hurried off.

"Ash, what was that all about?" asked Misty, the first traces of suspicion appearing on her face.

"Just collecting some figures... helps me suss out the market," said Ash in a slightly high-pitched voice.

Misty didn't look convinced. "Right..."

"Hey, Ash!"

Ash turned around. One of the tournament regulars, a man named Harry, was marching towards him.

"Any news?"

"Er... not yet," said Ash, aware that Misty's eyes were narrowing. "I'll keep you posted."

"I'm getting impatient, Ketchum," Harry growled before sloping off again.

"And that?" said Misty, her tone distinctly frosty.

Ash blurted out the first excuse that came into his head. "His wife's having a baby."

"Then why was he asking you?"

"He's nervous – it's his first wife," Ash babbled as he craned around to look at the cafeteria doors. "Well, I have some stuff to take care of – I'll see you tonight, 'kay?"

Misty glared at him. "Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"Of course not! I just don't want you to be late for your rehearsal, that's all. Is Daisy still threatening you with the Geodude suit?"

"No, we've moved on to Oklahoma rejects." Misty looked slightly pacified. "Oh, OK. See you tonight. 'Bye."

She put the phone down. Ash let Pikachu jump onto his head and hurried towards the cafeteria, casting his gaze around as soon as he stepped through the doors. To his overwhelming relief, he soon caught a glimpse of green hair at a table near the wall. It looked as though Drew was tucking into a full meal.

Keeping his target in the corner of his eye, Ash made his way to the front of the room and ordered a piece of cheesecake. He then trekked back the way he'd come, making a detour that would take him past Drew's table. Upon drawing level, he glanced down and gasped.

"Say, aren't you that co-ordinator who's been in all the papers?"

Drew looked up. Even when surprised, he managed to retain an aura of implacability. "That's right," he drawled. "But please, don't shout it. I'm trying not to get recognised."

Ash got the distinct impression that if Drew were recognised, he wouldn't object to it in the slightest, but decided to keep this thought to himself. "Would you mind me sitting here?"

"I suppose not."

Ash thanked him, eased into the chair opposite and took the cheesecake back from Pikachu, watching Drew closely. "So, what brings you to the city? If you don't mind me asking."

"I'm really just passing through, Mr....?"

"Ash. Uh, Ketchum, I mean. Ash Ketchum."

"...Mr. Ash Ketchum. I'm heading for Vermillion City tomorrow - there's a fund-raiser held on the St. Helena, and I'm invited. Only for the most eminent Pokémon trainers, of course," Drew added with undisguised smugness, casually flipping a lock of hair off his forehead. Ash was strongly reminded of a much younger Gary.

"Sounds like fun!" he said. "Say, have you tried the cheesecake here? They sell a lot of cheesecake."

Drew looked puzzled at the sudden change of subject. "No... Maybe some other time."

Ash tried to hide his disappointment. He cast around for something else to talk about, ever aware of the dwindling amount of food on Drew's plate. "So, uh, where are you off to after Vermillion?"

Drew paused to think, managing to give the impression that he had so many social engagements that he found it difficult to keep them all straight. "I have to catch a ship back to the Hoenn region on Monday – there are contests to attend, and I'd hate to miss them – but before then I have a whole day to kill. I was thinking of looking at some of the cities around here. Cerulean, maybe. They do these shows down at the gym."

"Yeah, I know those!" Ash exclaimed. "My fiancée's in them."

"You have a fiancée?" Drew raised an eyebrow. "At your age?"

Ash felt a sting of annoyance at the condescending tone - especially as, by his reckoning, Drew was a year or two younger than he was. He would have dearly loved to say how old he was when he proposed. Fortunately, his rational mind reminded him that keeping Drew in a good mood was essential if he wanted to get his thousand dollars. Speaking of which... "Are you sure you don't want any cheesecake?"

This time, Drew gave him a distinctly odd look. "Very sure, thank you. Is it your job to advertise for this place or something?"

"Huh? Oh, no," said Ash. "I just, uh, really like the food."

"I... see."

He was losing it. Ash took a forkful of dessert himself, hoping his growing worry wasn't apparent. "So, you're from the Hoenn region, aren't you?" he tried. "What's it like there?"

"Pretty similar to over here," Drew replied, still regarding Ash as he would somebody who wore his underpants on his head.

"I was planning on going there once, years ago," Ash explained. He smiled faintly in reminiscence. "Back when I'd just finished with the Johto League."

At this, Drew's ears pricked up. "You're a Pokémon trainer?"

"I was," Ash said, a note of bitterness creeping into his voice. "Before they took away my license."

Pikachu, who had remained silent thus far, poked its head out from under the table to give its trainer a commiserating look. Even Drew looked grudgingly sympathetic. "Can't you take the tests again?" he asked.

Ash pulled a face. "With those entrance fees? No way."

Judging by Drew's expression, he had never had that problem. Now that Ash thought of it, odds were that Drew's riches weren't solely the product of his success as a co-ordinator; he must have come from a wealthy family to begin with. It seemed incredible to him that Drew, who surely would have been too young to pass the tests first time around, had been given all the second, third and fourth chances he needed – whereas he, Ash, had lost everything, and the sole reason behind all this was money. Still, there was no use in brooding. Some people got lucky, and others didn't; Ash wasn't petty enough to hold a grudge over someone else's good fortune.

"You know what... now I think of it, there are a few differences between Hoenn and here," said Drew suddenly, not quite meeting Ash's eyes. "The drinks over there are better. And co-ordinators are more respected."

Perhaps it was Ash's imagination, but Drew sounded slightly friendlier now. "It sounds like a nice place," he said.

Drew nodded. "But they're a lot stricter about training laws, too, so it balances out. Not that I had any problems there, but... you know."

"Yeah," said Ash. "Maybe it's a good thing I never went there."

"You could just about get away with raising Pokémon without a license in the forests and isolated villages, but only an idiot would try it in the towns," said Drew. "And if you did it in front of one of the gym leaders, forget about it. They'd lock you up soon as look at you. Those guys take themselves way too seriously."

Ash chuckled. "I can believe that. I've met one of them."

Drew looked up in interest. "Which one?"

"Well, I didn't meet the actual gym leader... just his daughter. They've moved in across the road."

Ash gave a brief account of the incident with May. By the time he'd finished, Drew looked half-amused, half-scornful. "Sounds like she's just as much of a prig as her father," he snorted.

Ash made an indeterminate noise in reply. He felt a little guilty for bad-mouthing May; he couldn't help recalling that he'd used to be every bit as self-righteous, back when he was a kid. That was before he'd come to realise that he couldn't always depend upon the law to be just.

"You'll want to warn people to avoid this part of the city in the future, then," Drew remarked. "Hoenn gym leaders are like vigilantes. Wouldn't want anyone to wind up in jail."

Ash hesitated for a moment to check for eavesdroppers, and then leaned across the table. "I guess I can tell you... I'm not exactly retired from training myself, if you get what I mean," he muttered.

Drew snickered. "You don't say. I never would have guessed you had it in you. Explains the Pikachu, at any rate."

"And... since we already brought it up..." Ash dropped his voice to a whisper. "I hold these, um, meetings every week. For the others who aren't allowed to train. There's one on tomorrow, and I know you have a license and all, but you're welcome to come." Suddenly, Drew's earlier words came back to him. "Oh yeah, except you'll be in Vermillion..."

"Sorry. Maybe next time I'm passing through."

"Eh, no problem," said Ash. "Hope you're around some other time." He just hoped that Benny hadn't already spread the word to every unlicensed trainer in the city that a famous co-ordinator would be attending the next tournament. "Oh – and, uh, if you do go to Cerulean, I'd really appreciate you not mentioning this to my fiancée. She doesn't exactly know about it."

"I get it," said Drew, smirking. "An upright sort of girl, is she?"

"Yeah... but mostly she'd kill me for wasting time when I could be earning the money to pass the tests again. Least, that's how she'd see it."

"Huh. Sounds to me like she's used to getting her way."

Ash laughed. "Yup, that's Misty."

"I suppose you'll be getting married before too long?"

"We all gotta go sooner or later," Ash replied, shrugging.

Drew grimaced as though he'd just swallowed a mouthful of lemon juice. "You think so? I say that a guy can fight it."

This remark was so diametrically opposite from everything that Brock had ever told him that at first Ash thought that Drew was joking. "You do?"

"Of course." Drew gestured with the fork in his hand to mark the point. "In fact, it's essential to fight it. Marriage is a cage. Get into it, and you might as well be dead."

Ash blanched. "It's that bad?" he exclaimed.

"And worse," said Drew. "But hey... if you really want to, don't let me put you off," he added, clapping Ash on the shoulder.

"I don't want to!" said Ash quickly.

Drew tilted his head to one side, regarding Ash with mild curiosity. "Why'd you propose to her in the first place?"

Ash cast his mind back. "We'd just had a fight over something stupid. I wanted to make it up to her, and Brock told me to think of something really romantic and just do it. So I asked her to marry me."

Drew looked torn between amusement and exasperation. "For future reference, expensive dinners and flowers work just fine," he said. "OK, so how long now have you been engaged?"

Ash coloured slightly. "Erm... seven years."

Drew dropped his fork. "Seven years?" he echoed. "I'm impressed. The longest I ever heard any guy make it was four. But you'll be sucked in eventually – they always are."

Ash turned pale. The nameless terror that he associated with marriage had just become a lot sharper. At this rate he'd be a gibbering wreck by the time he met up with Misty. He had to get his mind off the subject; any new topic of conversation would do.

"Really, you have to try the cheesecake!" he blurted.

Drew heaved a sigh of irritation. "No," he said flatly.

"But –"

"Listen. Watch my lips moving. If I wanted cheesecake, I would have gotten cheesecake. I don't see how I can make that any clearer."

"Just a little bite!" Ash implored. He pushed his own plate towards Drew. "You'll be doing yourself a favour."

Drew groaned and rolled his eyes. "You're not going to let up until I say yes, are you?" he said, voice heavy with resignation. "Fine. Give it here."

Ash complied, smiling from ear to ear. Drew reached for his clean dessertspoon and scooped a small mouthful from the side Ash hadn't touched.

"So, what do you think?"

Drew chewed and swallowed, looking faintly impressed. "You're right, that is good."

Ash beamed. It was time to work in the bet, quick. "Yup, Viridian City Pokémon Centre cheesecake is famous around here," he said. "Although there are some people who think the strudel is better. Weird, huh?"

Drew had evidently decided that playing along would be the best strategy here. "I admit it'd be pretty hard to top the cheesecake."

"So, tell me – which one would you reckon this place sold more of yesterday? At a guess."

"At a guess? I'd have to say that it sold far more cheesecake than strudel."

"Wanna bet?"

Drew blinked. "Say what?"

Ash tried to tone down the eagerness in his voice. "Do you want to make a bet on it? Just a friendly one."

Drew sat back in his chair, expressionless. "How much?"

"One thousand dollars."

A flicker passed over Drew's visage, as though he were trying to stop himself from laughing. "I'll tell you something, Mr. Ash Ketchum," he said. "When I was ten, setting off on my Pokémon journey, my father told me a story. He said, 'Son, I'm going to offer you some valuable advice. One day in your travels, a man is going to come up to you with a brand new deck of cards, on which the seal has not yet been broken, and tell you that he can make the Jack of Spades jump out and squirt cider into your ear. But I must warn you – do not bet this man. For as sure as you stand here, you're going to wind up with an ear full of cider'. Now, Ash, I'm not trying to accuse you of clocking the Pokémon Centre's desserts -"

"Would I do a thing like that?" said Ash guiltily.

"- However, I'll bet you that same thousand that you didn't know your Pikachu has just poured ketchup all over your cheesecake."

Ash let out a yelp; there was a mad scramble to gain control of the ketchup sachet, culminating in Pikachu dropped its prize and bolting.

"Aw, Pikachu!" Ash wailed, looking dismally at his ruined pudding.

"Bad luck, my friend," said Drew, calmly returning to his own meal.

Ash put his head in his hands. "I don't have to give you a thousand bucks now, do I?" he moaned.

"I think we can call that one quits."

Ash supposed that was a small comfort. He peered at the cheesecake again, pulling a face. Maybe he could scrape off the top layer...

"Ash?"

Ash looked up. Brock was standing beside the table. "What's the matter with you?" he asked.

Ash merely groaned in reply.

"It's probably stomach ache," said Drew. "Cheesecake backed up on him."

"Oh, right... that must be why they told me they sold more strudel yesterday," said Brock.

Ash began to bang his head on the tabletop.

"Er, well, I'll just leave you guys talking," said Brock quickly. He turned to go, then stopped. "Oh yeah, and Ash, don't forget you're meeting Misty tonight after the Water Flower's show."

"Yes, dear," said Ash automatically. "Aargh! I mean, yes!" He flapped a hand at Brock to get him to leave. Brock complied, shooting worried glances over his shoulder as he went.

"'Yes, dear'?" Now Drew was looking concerned for him, too. "That's husband talk if I ever heard it. Ash, you're trapped. You've got yourself a girl who could prove impossible to unload. You'll need to move now, before it's too late - otherwise, you're doomed."

"I don't want to unload her!" Ash protested. "I love Misty. And I like being engaged to her. It's just the marriage part that worries me."

Drew shook his head. "Take it from me, if you don't take measures you'll be stuck, forever."

Ash squirmed. The way Drew put it, he was going to have to choose between marrying Misty and losing her. He knew which one would be worse, but he couldn't say either option filled him with unbridled joy. "There's no way to just carry on as I am?"

"Nope."

Ash gave a glum sigh. "Then I guess I'll have to get married. At least Misty will be pleased."

Drew rolled his eyes. "What is it about girls that makes guys lose their spines? It's pathetic."

Ash felt as though he ought to defend himself. "It's not losing your spine; it's learning when to give in. And it's not really that bad. If you ask me, you just have a thing against women."

"No I don't!" said Drew, stung. "I just don't see what the big deal is about them that could make a guy willing to give up everything and... I dunno, open a vegetable stall or whatever suicide-inducing job she picks out for him. Why bother? What could you ever get out of it that would be worth it?"

A few possibilities sprang to Ash's mind that made his face turn crimson. Carefully avoiding mentioning these, he said, "But it's... don't you think it's nice to have a girlfriend? I mean, when you're going around the place, doing contests or whatever, don't you think it'd be great to have someone there to spend the time with?"

For a fraction of a second, some unidentifiable emotion flickered in Drew's eyes. When he next spoke, though, he sounded perfectly normal. "Like I said, I have nothing against women, girlfriends or otherwise. I just think that a guy should have them around only when he needs them – and they're easy enough to find."

"Not girls like Misty."

Drew heaved a dramatic sigh. "Ash, you're in love, and that makes you naïve. I'm not. And I can tell you for certain that all girls are the same."

"Oh yeah?" Ash retorted. "Then how come you don't have one? Seems to me like a party on the St. Helena would be a pretty useful time for one to be around – so why are you going alone?"

"I choose to travel light," Drew replied coolly. "But if I wanted a date for the fundraiser, I could get one. No problem."

"Not a real high-class girl," Ash insisted.

"Any girl! You name her!"

Like a bolt of lightening, an idea struck. Ash sat frozen in his seat, his brain suddenly running a mile a minute. "Any girl?" he repeated, trying to keep his voice steady. "And I name her?" He leaned forward, grasping the edges of the table. "Will you bet on that? Will you bet one thousand dollars that if I name a girl, you'll take her to the St. Helena tomorrow?"

A glimmer of doubt appeared momentarily on Drew's face, but was quickly overridden. "You've got yourself a bet," he said, shaking Ash's hand.

Ash stood up, beckoned, and headed for the cafeteria doors. He marched into the lobby, straight past the reception desk, and came to a halt by the window looking out onto the street. His timing was perfect; a large moving van was parked on the opposite side of the road, from which three men struggled with a large cabinet, supervised by a tall man and a blonde, round-faced woman. Ash's target sat on the low wall behind them, picking at a hangnail with a bored expression.

Ash pointed. "I name her."

Drew followed Ash's gaze, and blanched. "Her?" he echoed, appalled.

Ash was enjoying this. "Miss May, formerly of the Petalburg City gym."

The little colour that dwelled in Drew's naturally pale cheeks had by now completely evaporated. With a groan, he slumped against the nearest wall, raising his eyes to the heavens.

"Father," he sighed. "I've got cider in my ear."

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I'm guessing that anyone previously unaware what pairings are going to be included in this fic has by now figured it out. ;) Stay tuned for the next chapter, in which Drew begins his pursuit of May, with mixed results. (Oh, and any comments on how I portrayed Drew would lead to my undying gratitude – I probably don't know his character yet as well as I ought to.) Thanks for reading!