Chapter 3

"WHAT! What do you mean 'it won't start'!" Misty wailed, chewing her fingernails as though they were snack crackers. "DO SOMETHING! FIX IT!"

"I can't," Gary snapped, steadying his hands on the dead steering wheel. "I'm a Pokemon guy, not a car guy."

"But you are still a guy," Misty seemed to think that she was pointing out something that would make a difference. "Don't you have some innate instinct on how to fix cars?"

Gary turned to face her; regret glistening like dark crystals in his eyes. "Misty, I am naturally good at everything – except fixing cars."

"Can't you at least try?" Misty pleaded miserably. The car dome light cast dreary shadows across her fair face and highlighted the desperation that she was feeling. Gary wished that he could help her, but he knew what his honest answer was:

"No."

"Why not!"

Even frozen she was bossy! "Because, genius, unless you have a flashlight stuffed inside your panties I have no way of SEEING what's going on under the hood! My car has no hood light!"

". . . oh. . ." Misty sniffled, shivering miserably on her seat. "You know, Oak, this never would have happened if you hadn't been-"

"Ohhhh, no," Gary cut her off, raising a finger to indicate silence. "We are NOT going to play the blame game. No way, no how."

Gary knew that Misty was battling fiercely with her own wits in order to keep from verbally biting his head off . . . although, at the rate her temper was escalading Gary was afraid she might run out of fingernails to bite and then actually bite his head off. That was not a pleasant thought at all; Gary determined that he would much rather freeze to death.

"Damn," Misty cursed, her teeth chattering. "I'm freezing and I'm starving! I'm probably going to DIE out here!"

"Chill out, drama queen," Gary snickered slightly to himself, realizing his unintentional pun.

Misty shot him another potent glare from her –seemingly endless- stash.

"Here, I've got food," Gary reached across her lap and unlocked his glove compartment. Inside were two Right Time candy bars. Gary retrieved only one of the bars and then hastily shut and re-locked the compartment. He did NOT want Misty to snatch the second bar -- it was his. "Here we can share this," he offered, hoping that she had not noticed the second candy bar.

Misty scowled loudly. "Hey! Wait a second; there are TWO bars in there. I want my own!"

"Nope, sorry," Gary fiddled with the wrapper.

Misty's grimace deepened. "Oak: I am starving! Besides, Right Time bars are my VERY FAVORITE! I can't even buy them anymore because the manufacturer discontinued them!"

That snagged his attention: "Misty, YOU like Right Time bars?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "I love them! I know that most people think they are disgusting, what with the mint flavored peanut butter and all, but I adore them! Ash and Brock always tease me for buying them."

Gary grinned. "Yeah, my sister harasses me all the time for eating them too; she thinks they are nasty."

"I haven't had one in months! Where did you get them anyway, Oak?" She was currently eyeing his glove box as though the contents were of equal value to a Master Ball. Gary frowned cautiously . . . Mental note: Misty Waterflower is not to be trusted around chocolate.

"These are the last two Right Time bars in existence. I got them directly from the manufacturing plant by special order. I have been saving them for an important occasion. Therefore we may share this one bar right here," Gary waggled the candy in her face, "and the other I am going to save for myself to enjoy privately."

A vein began to throb on Misty's forehead. Gary was surprised he didn't see steam blasting from her ears and flames from her eyes.

"Isn't our being stranded grounds for an 'important occasion'?" Misty was actually snarling like a rabid Granbull now . . . only, Gary decided that she was much cuter. "Oak, I am NOT in a great mood. I am starving and I WANT my own damn Right Time bar!"

"Here," Gary handed her the smallest half of his bar. "Have this and be grateful that I'm even sharing at all."

Misty snatched the bar piece and crammed it into her mouth as though it were a mere gumball! She practically swallowed it whole! Gary was quite displeased that she did not even take the time to savor it. All those years spent traveling with Ash must have caused his gluttonous Snorlax-like behaviors to rub off on her.

As Gary finished enjoying his own half of the candy, Misty's hands suddenly came out of no where -- she was frantically reaching at him in attempt to steal the car keys from his hand! She wanted to unlock his glove box!

Gary recoiled, guarding the keys to his glove box as though they were the keys to unlocking the meaning of life.

"GIVE ME THOSE KEYS, OAK!" Misty roughly seized a fistful of Gary's hair. "Unless you want to be sporting a bald spot you'd better hand those keys over! A bald spot may hurt your 'ladies man' reputation; of course, you could always go the comb-over route . . .!

Gary flinched, his eyes wild with alarm. "You wouldn't dare! Let my hair go!"

Her grip tightened. "I am not kidding, Oak! I'll yank it right out by the roots!"

"Okay, okay! I give up, I'll give you keys."

"That's a good boy, submit to my authority and hand 'em over." Her fingers dangled in his face, itching to unlock his glove box and thieve his very last Right Time bar! What a greedy brat!

"Okay! I'll give them to you as soon as you loosen your grip, even a little as a show of semi-good faith," he knew that he sounded desperate but he didn't care, when it came to his hair he was not afraid to lose some dignity in effort to save it.

To Gary's relief the padlock Misty had on his hair lessened. He took this opportunity to ensure that she would never get her greedy fingers on his candy bar!

With Jolteon-like reflexes Gary cocked open the car door and hurled his keys into the abyss of snowy darkness! Misty's horrified shriek resounded in his head until he thought that his brain had been liquefied. Next came a solid punch to his right shoulder, followed by a slap across the face.

"OAK! YOU WOULD RATHER LOSE YOUR KEYS THAN GIVE ME THE CANDY BAR! OH MY GOD!" she struggled to catch her own breath through her screams. "We will never find your keys under all this snow!"

Gary nodded affirmatively, nursing his sore shoulder. "Oh well, I've got plenty of spare keys back home. The car won't start anyway, they are of no use."

"You are unbelievable and I hate you," Misty hissed, leaning into the seat cushion as though it were her only companion in the world. She refused to look at him.

An uneasy silence slinked by, but Gary was not phased by the awkwardness -- he was rather getting use to it. But a nagging guilty voice in the back of his mind told him that he should break it. Thus, Gary cleared his throat: "Um, so do you want to play a game to pass the time?"

Misty sighed. "Sure, why the hell not. Anything to keep my mind off of freezing and wanting to commit manslaughter."

Gary forced a clumsy smile, rubbing his hands over his chilly arms. "That's charming. Anyway, how about: I spy with my little eye? That's a good game. I'll go first," he cleared his throat again. "I spy with my little eye something that is white."

SLAP!

"Ouch."

Misty raised her hand, threatening to strike him again. "YOU IDIOT! Do you HAVE to pick SNOW!"

Gary rubbed his tender cheek protectively. "Well, since snow is the only thing that I can see, what else am I supposed to choose?"

"I refuse to play that game," Misty stated matter-of-factly. "I have a better game idea. Give me your hands."

Gary raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Why?"

"Just do it," Misty insisted in her usual no-excuses manner. Gary started thinking that, perhaps, if her gym leader career fell through that she would make an excellent drill sergeant for the Kanto army. "C'mon, Oak! Do it already." Gary hesitated for a few moments, but then relinquished his hands. Misty positioned them so that they were both sticking out in front of him as though he were a policeman stopping traffic. Next, Misty proceeded to clap her own hands against his in rhythm to a song that she progressed to sing: "Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack, all dressed in black, black, black. She asked her mom, mom, mom for fifty cents, cents, cents. To see the Phanpy, Phanpy, Phanpy jump over the fence, fence, fence. They jumped so high, high-"

Gary's face was constricting deeper into horror with each verse. Without warning he recoiled his hands, his head quaking back and forth with fierce disgust. "No! No way! I am NOT playing any girly clapping games. My sister use to subject me to them when I was little. I hate those games. Playing those so called 'games' are the source for some of my most humiliating childhood memories."

"Oh, now who is being dramatic? These games are fun, Oak."

"No way." He folded his hands behind his back so that she could not reach them.

"You are impossible!"

"No, you are impossible!"

". . ."

". . ."

Misty exhaled loudly, gnawing her fingernails again . . . maybe she was starving? Oh well, he still wouldn't share with her. "Okay, fine, we won't play any clapping games," she plopped her head against the window in defeat.

"Thank you." Gary sighed with relief. "And we won't play I spy either."

"Good. Well, at least we agree on something."

From the corner of his eye Gary watched Misty as she shivered beneath the dim fluorescent glow of his dome light. Her lips were quivering; her entire petite frame was trembling wearily from the cold. Every time she exhaled a puff of hot steam was physically visible in the air. The temperature was steadily dropping every moment; the polar chill seemed to be slurping the heat right from their exposed skin. It was definitely getting to be below freezing outside of the car, and – if Gary had to guess – inside it was only ten or so degrees warmer.

If another vehicle didn't pass by soon to aid them . . . Gary shuddered, he didn't want to think about what could happen to them tonight. It was best not to dwell upon the possibility of freezing. Right now the temperature within the car was still tolerable; it was uncomfortable, but tolerable. They just needed to keep warm and keep their wits about them until another vehicle came along. And one WILL pass this way, Gary assured himself. A truck has to plow this road eventually.

Without considering the possible consequences, Gary reached forward and took a hold of Misty's tiny hands. She eyed him curiously as he gently rolled her little fingers beneath his own. Her hands looked like those of a porcelain doll next to his large tan ones. Her fingers were stiff and chilled like small icicles; he was surprised that she hadn't complained about how numb they must have felt.

Misty's jade sight was still fixed inquisitively upon him; Gary smiled up at her reassuringly. In a moment she relaxed, allowing her hands to enjoy the warmth of their contact.

"Feel better?" Gary asked quietly, stroking her knuckles.

For a nanosecond Gary thought that he saw Misty's cheeks flush . . . but he couldn't be sure because she quickly pulled her hands back and cast her face downward. "Hey, give me back your hands, I'll warm them up," Gary offered, perplexed as to why she was allowing herself to freeze.
Misty smirked up at him, sheer challenge glimmering in her eyes. "Did I fail to mention the kick in the groin you'll be receiving if you touch me again?" she batted her eyelashes innocently.

Gary's brow wrinkled with dread and he held his hands up defensively. "Misty, you are so charming. You must go out on so many dates," he was certain to drench every word with sarcasm.

She cracked a smug grin. "Well, as I recall: before you drove us into this tree you were boasting that you were the master of seduction, and I just want to make certain that you don't get any ideas."

"Threatening to kick me in my stuff is a pretty good way to ensure that," Gary cringed . . . just imagining how hard she could probably kick was terrifying! Then, an intriguing thought tickled his brain: "I'm curious, Misty, why would you make that 'comment'? Are you worried that perhaps I could seduce you?"

Misty pointed a finger toward her mouth and imitated a gagging sound. "In your dreams."

Gary's eyes flared with challenge. "Do I sense a game of 'truth or dare' in our near future?"
Misty bolted forward in her seat, leaned into him, and matched his defiant stare. "You could not seduce me anytime – ever," she sneered. "Okay, Oak, how's this: I dare you to try it, right here and right now! C'mon, pretty boy, work that famous Oak magic and make me melt. Heck, I'm freezing my buns off; I could go for some melting," she leaned back in her chair and playfully waggled her eyebrows at him.

Misty Waterflower was the biggest pain in the ass that Gary Oak had ever met in his entire life – and that was saying something because he knew Ash! But . . . she was also the most alluring young woman he had ever known . . . and when she teased him with those striking green eyes . . . he felt . . . vulnerable. He felt like he was being tested, constantly sized up. He was use to girls stuffing their phone numbers into his hands, following him around like love-sick Growlithe puppies, flirting with him and laughing at all of his jokes. But Misty was not like that at all. She mocked him. She insulted him. She bossed him around. She tried to steal his candy bar. She even threatened to kick his stuff for god's sake! Most girls offered to do much kinder things to his stuff . . . and yet . . . despite her clear mental instability: he had never before been so intrigued by anyone . . . so immediately drawn to anyone before. It was . . . unnerving. No woman had ever been able to challenge his will like Misty could. She was carelessly bending his emotions like origami! Gary had never exchanged more than two words with her prior to this day, and yet she knew him unbelievably well. She knew exactly how to push his buttons, and - what was more fascinating still - was that he also seemed to instinctively know how to press hers as well.

Gary had never before wanted to win a dare as badly as he did in this moment. "You asked for it, Misty. And in return: I dare you to resist me."

Misty laughed so hard she almost choked. "And if I win? Do I get the Right Time candy bar?"

Gary hesitated. That was HIS candy bar. He did NOT want to share it with her, no matter how captivating she was. But . . . he was very confident about his abilities. He had never failed at seducing a woman before . . . granted Misty was totally unlike other women, but, she was still a hot-blooded female. And - he reminded himself that - he was a good-looking, highly skilled and experienced young man (modesty was not his strong point) . . .

. . . Gary's goal was not to sleep with Misty in his car – he was a gentleman despite what his reputation proclaimed. But he did want to kiss her. He did want to touch her. He wanted to get her flustered, to want him, to give in so that he could abruptly stop his advances and embarrass her. Only then would she be forced to admit that he was right. Proving her wrong was suddenly as important as a tow truck.

Gary nodded, confidence oozing from every pore. "Fine, if you resist me then you can have the candy bar -- once I locate the key to the glove box that is. And when I win, my prize will be hearing you say: Gary Oak, you are the master of seduction!"

An even more hysterical laughing fit seized Misty. She looked ridiculous: she was laughing and shivering at the same time. Gary shot her with nasty glares until she calmed down. "Ohmigosh, whatever, fine, fine," Misty's giggles were subsiding. "Let's get this show on the road, Oak. I'm sitting here all alone and freezing. Warm me up, baby!" her voice was dripping with mockery.

Gary silently clenched his jaw, it was going to be very difficult to get her into 'the mood' if she was preoccupied with ridiculing him.

"I will. But first," Gary turned towards her slowly, releasing a calming breath. "First I am going to tell you how I am going to kiss you. That way, when it happens, you'll be prepared."

Misty rolled her eyes, but nodded, encouraging him to continue. She was looking at him politely; somehow she had managed to hush her gigging fit.

Gary swept his fingers through his tall spikes of hair; he noticed that Misty paid casual attention to how his fingers gently frisked through the strands. Misty twiddled her thumbs on her lap.

Gary slowly slid in closer to Misty on the seat; their bodies were only a few centimeters apart. He lowered his head, allowing his bangs to brush against her forehead. Gary gazed lustfully into her eyes, blatantly communicating the dirty thoughts in his head. Misty blinked uncomfortably, severing their eye-contact. Her thumb fidgeting was becoming more intense.

Gary was not deterred.

"First," his voice grazed her ear as a husky breath. "I would caress your face like this," he reached up and brushed a feather-light finger down her jaw line; his fingertip barely skimming the smooth skin on her face. "Next, I would run my fingers through your hair," his right hand was now behind her neck, he could feel the Goosebumps on her skin but he was not yet sure whether they were to his credit or the colds.

Gary raked his hand up and through her hair, massaging her scalp as he went. Her hair was supple like ginger velvet. His fingers ached to never let it go. He could feel her shoulders tremor ever-so-slightly as his fingers continued to stroke her. Gary was encouraged by this, he continued: "Then," with his other hand he gently tilted her head backward . . .

. . . Misty's eyes fused with his now, her blazing emerald stare was like a tropical storm: raging with anxiety, apprehension and . . . something else . . . something that pushed Gary onward, aroused him, and lured him over a very dangerous edge.

Gary dipped his head below her chin; inhaling and grazing his lips down her throat. "You smell sexy," he whispered. His hand now cupped the back of her head, and he could actually hear Misty's heart racing beneath her ribs; her sizzling breath pounded against his forehead. He was supposed to be the one in control, and he was . . . but he suddenly felt that, if she were to look at him again with those stormy eyes, he would be powerless to stop touching her.

Her skin, her scent, her hair, and her eyes -- they were like drugs that he suddenly needed . . . "Then, I would do this," his voice was a low moan; his lips tenderly caressed the soft flesh on her throat, his mouth moving upward toward her chin. The taste of her skin had shoved him over that dangerous edge. He was free falling and he loved it! He wanted more . . . Gary's lips hovered over hers, their sultry breath beating upon each others mouths; their breath swirling, flirting, mixing together.

Misty eyes were bewildered . . . more sensations than Gary could name were swirling within her emerald orbs. He wanted to stay like this, searching her eyes until he could identify every single one of them, feel every single one of them.

"Stop!" Misty's hands were on his chest, shoving him away. Her face was flushed a deep rewarding scarlet. "Who do you think I am? One of your bimbo cheerleaders?"

He had successfully flustered her, he had embarrassed her. But he hadn't gotten to her like she had gotten to him . . . a part of him felt very satisfied, but another part was disappointed . . .

Gary forced himself to retain his usual nonchalant facade. "Sorry," he willed his heartbeat (and other awakened areas) to relax.

"Sorry!" Misty squealed, highly irritated.

"Hey, Misty, you're blushing. I guess I win."

"I am NOT blushing!"

"Your face is almost as red as your hair."

"That is not the color of blush -- that is the color of RAGE tainting my face!"

Gary faked a yawn, shifting his position on the driver's seat. "Deny it all you want. I won."

"No, I wasn't seduced by you." She was really itching for a fight.

"That's because you pushed me away."

"Exactly, if your seduction had been working I wouldn't have done that, now would I?"

Gary grit his teeth; this argument was getting old . . . and it was frustrating him to debate. He was secretly very disappointed in himself for being disappointed in the outcome. "You were turned on by me. You let me kiss your throat," he pointed out.

"I was just trying to give you a chance; I didn't want to completely crush your ego."

"You were turned on. I could hear your heart beating; I could see that look in your eye." But, he was just as stubborn as she was. If Misty wouldn't drop the issue then there was no way that he possibly could. She was driving him crazy . . . and he liked it.

Wow, she really HAS made me nuts!

Misty face wrinkled with horror. "Look? What look in my eye?"

His face was unflinching. "You wanted me to, not only kiss you, but to pull you into the backseat and freak with you like crazy."

Gary raised his hand and successfully blocked her oncoming slap, he was getting good at predicting when she would try and hit him. Misty tried to smack him again but Gary grabbed her wrist and held it firmly. Misty's eyes widened, but not with rage . . .

"You still want me to." With her wrist in his hand, Gary gently pulled Misty toward him.

She relaxed, allowing herself to lean toward his face . . .

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AUTHORS NOTE: Thank you ALL so much again for reading this story! I wish I could bake you all a batch of cookies and muffins to show my gratitude. There is only one chapter left (I told you it was a short story) so please don't forget to take a moment and leave me a review. I am very anxious to see what everyone thought about this chapter. A little comment goes a long way! Maia