Here's chapter 4! Sorry again for taking so long about it – you guys are great (and very patient). Enjoy!

A Bushel And A Peck

The morning's clouds had already disappeared by the time Drew reached the end of the path leading from the Viridian gym. With a final backwards glance, he swung the gate closed and sauntered up the road. It was one of those rare occasions when his mood and the weather were in perfect accord; the sky was a canvas of sheer blue, against which the roofs of buildings crowded as though trying to absorb as much sunlight as possible. The wind picked up slightly, causing Drew's coat to billow. He allowed himself a self-satisfied smile; he happened to know that he looked his most dramatic in a moderate breeze.

Speaking of dramatic, he seemed to have made quite an impression on May. Whether a good or a bad one was up for debate, but Drew had always held the opinion that it was better to simply be memorable, and let events work themselves out from there. And there could be no doubt that May would not be forgetting him in a hurry. At the very least, he imagined that the handprint on his face would jog her memory when next they met.

And meet again, they would. A thrill of anticipation ran through him at the thought. Now that the task ahead had been reduced from seemingly impossible to merely very difficult, the sense of enthusiasm that always accompanied one of his infamous crazy bets was beginning to stir. That was what had drawn him to gambling in the first place: not the money, not the notoriety and certainly not the company, but the challenge. Pokémon training was his first love, but winning tournaments had lost their attraction some time after placing first in Hoenn's Grand Festival for the third year running. Pulling off a victory against all the odds for his latest wager, however, was one thing he never got bored of.

And this time, there was more to it than that. Drew's steps slowed as he lapsed into deeper thought. He had to admit, there was something about May that intrigued him, on a level beyond that of an obstacle to manipulate. He'd expected resistance, but he hadn't expected to enjoy whittling down her defences as much as he did. If he hadn't already had a strict purpose in mind in coming to the gym, he could have happily spent hours sitting in her father's office, heckling away with her. He'd found himself taking a genuine interest in what she did and how she reacted. It was vaguely unsettling, but in a pleasant sort of way.

Oddly, it seemed to help that she'd been so utterly unimpressed by his status as a Festival champion. Most women found his fame interesting enough to give him a second glance no matter how rudely he behaved towards them, but Drew got the impression that May would have detested him even if he'd put on his best Sunday manners and called her 'milady'. After spending so much time surrounded by fans and flunkies, he couldn't help but find her contempt refreshing. And the fact that she was beautiful certainly didn't hurt…

Drew frowned as he reached the traffic lights. He was beginning to sound like an idiot with a crush. It wouldn't do to get attached to May when he was supposed to be focussing on winning his thousand bucks. It was humiliating enough that he'd been roped into the biggest sucker bet ever devised by a man who'd seriously thought that any sane person would fall for a wager about cheesecake - the last thing he needed was for word to get out that he'd gone soft over some gym leader's daughter. It was going to take all his ingenuity to pull off this bet, and he couldn't afford any distractions. No, better to go back to thinking of May in terms of a complication, like he had when Ash had first pointed her out.

That said… there was no reason why he couldn't have a little fun at the same time. The remembrance of the way May's eyes had flashed when he'd called her boring rose in Drew's mind, and he grinned to himself.

He could tell that it was going to be an interesting couple of days.

---

Ash hurried down a backstage corridor of the Cerulean gym, moving through a jostling crowd of extras and technicians. Nobody paid him any attention - they were all making last-minute preparations for the evening's show. For once, Pikachu was absent; Ash was here primarily to visit Misty, after all. It tended to be somewhat off-putting when, in the middle of a kiss, he happened to look up and see the yellow rodent sitting on top of the dressing table, sniggering at him.

Squeezing past a gaggle of costume designers, he finally stumbled out into an empty corridor. Instead of the usual aquariums that lined every other wall, this part of the building contained a row of pay phones. He collapsed in front of one and rummaged in his pocket for a quarter.

"Oh… two… seven… three… seven…" he mumbled, reading off a small piece of paper clutched in his hand. "Eight… six… one… six… seven… one." There was a clicking noise as the phone connected him; then it started to ring.

Ash could hear music in the distance - the show must be near its end. He vaguely recognised the tune, having dropped by for one of Misty's rehearsals a couple of weeks ago. This meant he only had ten minutes to finish up the phone-call and get back to her dressing room.

Finally, someone on the other end of the line picked up. The image of a lab coat-clad man with unruly brown hair and sharp features appeared on the screen. "Hello?"

"Gary!" Ash breathed a sigh of relief. The last two times he had tried that number, nobody had answered. "Gary, I need to ask a favour."

Gary leaned back in his chair, smirking. "Let me guess. That cute little League-cop is putting on the pressure, and you need a place to run your matches. Am I right?"

"Yeah, that's right. Please, Gary, can I use one of the store-rooms at your lab?"

Gary steepled his hands together, peering over the top of them at Ash. "Well, you know the rules. A thousand bucks, in advance."

Ash winced. "Uh… could I give it to you later?" he asked, hoisting a winning smile onto his face. "Since it's me?"

"Since it's you? No."

Ash's face fell. "Aw, c'mon, Gary, I'll have the money by tomorrow at the latest."

Gary looked sceptical. "How do you know?"

"I made a bet with somebody. Does it matter how -"

"Well, how can you be sure that you're going to win?"

"Because it's a bet I know I can't lose. Look, I'm meant to be getting the money tonight anyway, this is just in case he delivers late."

"If you're the one he's going up against, I wouldn't be so sure he'll end up having to deliver at all. What's the bet?"

Ash sighed. "I bet him he couldn't take this girl to Vermillion City."

"And how do you know he can't do it?"

"'Cause she's not the kind of girl that goes to Vermillion City."

"Where does she go, then?"

"Nowhere!" said Ash exasperatedly. "Look, just trust me, OK? I'll win. She's his total opposite. She'll probably just yell at him, if he even gets close enough to ask her."

Gary snickered. "Yeah, because Misty never yells at you at all."

"That's different!"

Gary shook his head. "Sorry, Ashy-boy, no deal. You can never be sure of anything wherever women are concerned. I'd have thought even you would have realised that by now."

This wasn't going anywhere. Ash decided to give in. "Fine, fine," he grumbled. "Can I at least tell everyone that's where the meeting is?"

"Not until you've got the money," said Gary firmly.

"Alright! Jeez! See you tonight."

Ash put down the receiver, muttering assorted curses, and hurried back up the corridor to the reception desk. A bored looking woman in her mid-thirties greeted him with a nod.

"Hi, Mr. Ketchum. Show's almost over. You'll be wanting Miss Misty's dressing room, right?"

"Yeah." Ash took the key from her outstretched hand. "Thanks!" he called over his shoulder, setting off towards the performer's quarters at a jog.

He made it through the door of Misty's room with a minute to spare, the sound of applause echoing faintly through the walls. Quickly, he grabbed a nearby book and flung himself into a chair. In no time at all, he heard the sound of footsteps and chattering as the chorus girls arrived in the corridor. The next moment, the doorknob turned and Misty entered the room, slightly flushed from exertion. She was wearing a skimpy Delcatty costume, complete with fluffy tail and glued-on patches of fur.

"Hi, Ash!" she beamed, pulling off the headpiece and dumping it on her dressing table.

Ash caught himself staring, and blushed slightly; the one time he'd seen the Water Flower's latest routine, it hadn't been in costume. Misty dressed so casually on a regular basis that seeing her in a skin-tight Delcatty outfit was something of a surprise – not that he was complaining.

"Hey, Misty," he said, getting to his feet.

Misty crossed the room and gave him a lingering kiss. "Happy anniversary, sweetheart. What are you reading?" She took the book out of his hands.

"Er," said Ash, his mind a blank.

Luckily Misty spared him from answering. "Oh, it's the book my doctor gave me," she said, peering at the cover. "I didn't know you were interested in that kind of thing."

Ash tried to look at the cover without Misty noticing. Unfortunately, leaving school at the age of ten hadn't done wonders for his reading skills, and the title of the book contained a lot of long words. "I – uh – didn't know you were either," he hazarded.

Misty screwed up her nose. "I'm not. I went to see Dr. Chelle again about my cold – I've tried everything he suggested last month, and nothing worked. So then he thought that the problem might be caused by psychology."

"Psychology?" said Ash, alarmed. "You haven't got that, have you?"

Misty rolled her eyes. "Psychology, Ash. It's how to figure out what's going on inside people's minds."

"Can't they just tell you themselves?"

"No, because they don't always know. It could be subconscious."

Ash decided not to further embarrass himself by asking what 'subconscious' meant. However, Misty's words had sparked an idea. "Say… would that book be able to tell you why girls go for certain kinds of guys?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean – could it tell you why a girl might like a guy that she wouldn't normally be interested in?"

Misty smiled at him. "Ash, no matter how terrible a guy might seem, that's no guarantee that some girl won't fall for him. Just look at us."

Ash suddenly felt a little less confident about the bet than he had done five minutes ago. Drew couldn't possibly win, could he? Even if he did manage to conceal from May that he consorted with criminals on a regular basis, Ash was sure that she was far too straight-laced to go off to Vermillion City with a total stranger… right?

Misty chose that moment to cut into his musings. "Ash?" she said tentatively. "Um, my sisters say that starting Monday, they're going to take a break from performing to refurbish the gym. I was wondering… since we'll have a few weeks to ourselves… maybe we could finally get married?"

Instantly, Ash felt the icy grip of panic closing around his throat. "Married!" he yelped, running a finger under his collar. "Well – uh – we were going to get married at some point –"

"Then why not make it this point?"

"Um –" Beads of perspiration prickled at Ash's forehead. "It's just – don't you think it's kind of sudden?"

Misty gave him one of her best Looks. "Hmmm… let me think," she said, placing the tip of one finger to her chin. "Seven years… sudden… you know what, Ash? I really don't think so."

"But, Misty, marriage is a big deal," Ash pleaded. "What if we're not ready yet?"

Misty folded her arms and glared at him. "I'm ready, Ash. And I don't know why you're not. I mean, this is ridiculous! Who stays engaged for seven years? And anyway… I'm getting worried about your mom."

Ash frowned. "My mom? Why, what's wrong with her?"

For some reason, Misty now looked incredibly nervous. "Oh, boy," she muttered. "Uh… Ash… I've never told you this before, but… the thing is…"

Ash was beginning to feel rather alarmed himself. Had his mom been taken ill? Disowned him? Run off with Tracey? What could the matter be?

"The thing is," Misty repeated, studiously avoiding his eyes, "your mom… well…" She took a deep breath. "She… kinda thinks we're married already."

Ash blinked. "Why?" he said, slowly.

Misty cringed. "Because, uh, I told her we were married already."

For a long time, Ash found it difficult to get words out. Misty took advantage of this to plunge on: "You see, Ash, what you have to realise about your mom is that –"

Words returned to Ash rather abruptly. "What I have to realise?" he snapped. "She's my mom!"

"Yeah, but the thing is, people in Pallet Town have this… mindset –"

"People in – Misty, I grew up in Pallet Town! I know all about people in Pallet Town!"

Misty continued to ignore him. "It's an old-fashioned place, you see, and everyone there is rather, y'know, traditional. Set in their ways. It's different for you and Gary, because you travelled around since you were ten, but your mom isn't like that. I don't think she'd like it if you were engaged to me for seven years."

"So you told her we were married?"

"Seven years, Ash!" Misty protested. She looked rather flustered; if it came to it, Ash felt the same way. "In Pallet Town, people just don't do that – they all get married!"

"Then how come it's such a small town?"

"Very funny," said Misty, glaring at him. "You tell me, then - what was I supposed to say?"

"The truth would have been great!"

"Well, if you'd just married me earlier like you should have done, then we wouldn't be having this problem!" Misty yelled.

Ash turned away, throwing up his hands. "Oh, right, so now it's all my fault. What a surprise. You're crazy, do you know that?"

"Oh, yeah?" Misty retorted. "This coming from the guy whose brilliant idea, after the League took away his trainer's license, was to start setting up matches illegally? Sure, I'm the crazy one."

This was getting into dangerous territory. "But I didn't go through with it, did I?" said Ash quickly.

"Only because I talked you out of it. So if you think what I've done is stupid, just remember your own track record, Ash Ketchum!"

Ash knew there would be no winning this argument. "Fine, I get the point," he snapped. "Anything else I should know about?"

Misty went bright scarlet. "Well… now that you mention it…"

A sense of imminent dread took hold of Ash. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear this.

"Um… OK – see – what happened is…" Misty mumbled, gaze fixed firmly on the floor. "After about a year – um –"

"After about a year… we got a divorce?" said Ash hopefully.

Misty screwed her eyes tightly shut. "We had a baby," she whispered.

Ash sat down heavily. The room was beginning to spin. "B – b – we – baby?"

"I had to, Ash!" Misty pleaded. "Your mom just wouldn't have understood if we hadn't!"

The 'ran off with Tracey' option was beginning to look really good right now. "Misty, how could you!" Ash wailed. "How am I meant to pretend to everyone back home that I have a six-year-old kid?"

Misty waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, don't worry about that. I can deal with that kind of stuff."

"No, you can't! What if mom puts me on the spot?"

"That won't happen. I've… been taking measures."

Ash almost asked her what measures she'd taken, but decided that such an act of masochism would hardly improve his mood. Although, now that he knew the truth, a lot of things were beginning to slot into place. It gave him an explanation for why Misty had managed to mysteriously come down with the chicken pox for the last five Christmases, for one thing. Also why, whenever he had announced an intention to visit home, she had suddenly remembered some urgent appointment that he simply had to take her to. And why, on the one occasion when he had managed to phone his mom, she had kept dropping in references to 'the little bundle of joy'. Ash had just assumed she was talking about Pikachu – which, on reflection, must have made his end of the conversation sound extremely strange.

On the other hand, he supposed it couldn't hurt to at least get some more information. If he was going to have to pull off an elaborate deception for the rest of his life, it would be better if he knew all the facts now.

"OK, what kind of a baby was it?" he asked in a defeated tone of voice.

"It was a boy," said Misty. Ash noticed that she was grinning fondly. "I named him after you, Ash."

"Um… thank you?"

"You're welcome."

"So… where is Ash junior supposed to be right now?"

"Right now he's at boarding school in Celadon City. One of the best in the country."

Nothing but the best for her fictional son, Ash thought. Misty was nothing if not devoted, as her time spent taking care of Togepi had proved. If he hadn't been so mad at her, he would have found it rather sweet.

"Um, Ash?" Misty looked as though she were steeling herself. "That's… not all, Ash."

Ash had a sudden foreboding that he was about to get a lot madder. "Don't tell me he has a little sister!"

The expression on Misty's face said it all. Ash looked around stupidly for Pikachu; maybe if he were shocked into unconsciousness now, he'd wake up and find this had all been a horrible dream.

"All these years, Ash – your mom believes in big families," Misty defended herself.

Ash took a deep breath, forcing every scrap of resolve to the forefront of his mind. "Just… just give me the grand total," he said in a voice that wavered only slightly.

A tortured look crept over Misty's face. Very slowly, she raised her hand, with all her fingers extended. "Five," she whispered.

Ash nearly burst into tears.

"But it doesn't matter," Misty went on hurriedly. "We can get married! Then it won't have to be a lie any more."

Ash shot her an incredulous look. "Are you kidding? What am I meant to tell my mom I did with the five kids – traded them for a Sunflora?"

"Just leave it to me. I'll take care of everything."

Somehow, Ash doubted that. He wasn't looking forward to the next family reunion.

"Please, Ash," Misty begged. She clasped her hands under her chin and gave him the sad blue eyes routine. "Please let us get married. It'd make me so happy…"

Ash hated it when she put him on the spot like that. "I'm just not sure it's a good idea," he said uncomfortably.

Misty dropped the act. A thin line of irritation furrowing her brow, she strode over to her dressing table and yanked the bottom drawer open. "Look at this," she commanded, taking out a long, thin package and waving it at him. "What do you think this is?"

Ash read the label. "'Sally's Wedding Shop'. Beats me."

"It's a wedding veil. I've had it for three years. I haven't shown you, because it's supposed to be bad luck." Misty paused. "Want to see?"

"Bad luck!" said Ash quickly.

"Well, there you go!" Misty put the box down, crossed the room and took his hands in hers. "I've already got the veil. All we need now is a license and a blood-test."

"Blood-test?" said Ash, pulling a face.

"Yeah. We have to, it's the law." Misty patted his arm. "Oh, don't worry, Ash - you've got blood."

"What a city," Ash grumbled. "First they close my tournament, then they open up my veins."

"Ash, you never even started the tournament," said Misty, giving him a strange look.

Ash quickly backtracked, cursing himself for making the slip. "Of course not. And you know why not? Because I love you."

He knew from experience that there was no quicker way to disarm her. Sure enough, Misty was now grinning sappily. "Aw, Ash. I love you too. OK, we'll talk about this later."

Relieved to be off the hook for now, Ash pulled her close and kissed her. Now this was more how he had planned to spend their anniversary.

About thirty seconds later, the door banged open. "Misty, I need to borrow some earrings, like, right away," said Violet loudly, breezing in with her hair in rollers. "Oh, sorry."

Ash and Misty sprang apart, blushing; Ash promptly tripped over a chair leg and fell over.

"Violet!" Misty snapped. "Can't you knock?"

"I said sorry," Violet wheedled. "And anyway, why would I need to knock?"

"Because," Misty hissed, "it is polite to knock when going into the private dressing room of an engaged person!"

Violet abandoned the act of penitence and stuck her nose in the air. "Like, as far as I'm concerned, you're in here alone. So, can you lend me some earrings? Pretty please?"

Misty sighed. "Oh, fine. Third drawer down. Inside the blue box."

While Violet busied herself at the dresser, Misty stood with her arms folded, grumbling to herself, and Ash rubbed his shins. None of the three elder Water Flowers were particularly fond of him these days. He supposed it was sisterly solidarity on Misty's behalf - or perhaps this was just the way they acted towards any man who walked around with his shirt half-hanging out of his jeans.

Finally, Violet straightened up, a pair of pearl earrings gleaming in her palm. "Thanks, little sister," she said cheerfully. Then her gaze fell upon Ash, and grew icy. "You!" she intoned, pointing an accusatory finger. "I had a date all lined up for tomorrow night, and he, like, cancelled - all on account of you and your dopey Pokémon tournament!"

Ash froze. At his side, he could sense Misty tensing in shocked realisation.

"Honestly, Misty, I pity you," Violet said, shaking her head.

With that bombshell dropped, she turned and swept to the door, pausing to rap twice on it smartly before she left.

In the dead silence that followed, Misty slowly raised her head and looked at Ash. Her eyes contained the promise of pure murder.

Equally slowly, Ash lowered himself to the ground, trying to pour every ounce of contrition he could muster into his gaze. "Misty, look at me," he implored. "I'm on my knees!"

Misty's expression did not alter, although her eyes narrowed to slits. "Get up," she growled through clenched teeth.

Ash leapt to his feet. Dawdling would not help him win back any points.

"How long?" Misty demanded in dangerously controlled tones.

When in doubt, lie like hell. "Just – just a few weeks –" Ash began.

"How. Long."

"- Or months…"

Quick as a snakebite, Misty struck out with an arm and grabbed his ear. "Ow, ow, ow!" Ash yelped. "Eight years!"

Misty released him, her face contorting in a kind of pained grimace. For a moment, Ash thought she was going to cry; but instead she fumbled for a handkerchief in her pocket and sneezed into it.

"Eight years," she stated flatly in a muffled voice. "Eight years, you could have been studying to get your license."

"Hey, I was trying!" Ash protested. "But I couldn't just not train in all that time, could I?"

Misty took a step towards him, her eyes like gimlets. "If you were really trying, you could have been training legally for years by now!"

Ash thought this was a bit much. "This coming from someone who didn't even have to take those tests?"

That was the wrong thing to say. Ash had to duck quickly as Misty aimed a blow at him. "You could be arrested!" she yelled. "What then, Ash? How did you plan to keep up your training in jail?"

"I'm not going to get caught!" Ash argued, folding his arms. "I've gotten really good at this –"

"Oh, that's a great thing to be good at!" Misty really was starting to cry now; she sneezed again, and swiped furiously at her eyes and nose with the handkerchief. "That's a really – achoo! – useful skill - achoo!"

She was forced to stop talking as five violent sneezes wracked her upper body. Ash was beginning to feel quite scared for her – he'd never seen her in this state before. "Calm down, Mist," he urged, temporarily abandoning caution and gathering her into his arms. He felt her whole frame jerk against his chest with each sneeze. "You're making yourself upset. I love you, OK? We'll talk this over tomorrow. I promise, things won't seem so bad then."

Misty pushed him away from her. "I don't believe you any more!"

"But I –"

"Get out!" Misty raised a trembling finger towards the door. "I don't even want to look at you right now!"

Ash's heart sank. He could tell that she really meant it. He debated refusing to leave until she listened to reason, but something told him that unless he had a death wish, that wasn't a great idea. Instead, he heaved a sigh and trudged towards the door.

When he reached it, he paused and directed a long, pitiful gaze at Misty. "Just tell me what to do to make this up to you."

Misty raised her head and held his gaze for a long moment. "Marry me."

Ash bit his lip, and remained silent. A part of him wanted to say yes – but it wasn't quite strong enough.

Misty turned away. "That's what I thought."

"There's… one more thing I need to ask you," Ash said hesitantly.

Misty stood still, arms folded. Ash took that as a sign to go on. He licked his lips, opened his mouth, and blurted, "You didn't name all our kids after flowers, did you? Because I wanted to veto 'Petunia' -"

Misty swung around again, her face contorting with fury, and began to reach for an empty vase on the table beside her.

"Just checking. I'll go," said Ash quickly.

He turned and made a run for it. The vase barely missed his head as it smashed against the door.