A/N: So some of you might have noticed that I changed the rating to 'M.' I only did that as a precautionary measure for possible adult themes and language (I'm not planning anything for later per se. It's just that I mention sex more than I originally intended when I first started this story).

Anyway, I hope that you all enjoy this chapter. It's longer than the others so far. A little side note, La Boniche was an actual local restaurant to me up until a few years ago when it went out of business. They had changed the traffic flow in downtown in the next city over where it was located, and a lot of businesses were hurt by it. It was a bit expensive, but not as exclusive as I make it to be in the story. I really did love having duck whenever I went. It was always so good.

Sarah

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon or any of it's characters.

5. La Boniche

Ash paced around the hotel lobby later that night. The receptionist kept eyeing him suspiciously, but he ignored her. He was wearing a casual marina-blue short-sleeved buttoned shirt with khaki shorts. He did have a suit upstairs in his closet, but that would have been too much. He had wanted to look nice, but not too nice. There was this newly found desire to impress her, and it was perplexing him to no end.

'She was getting married,' his brain kept going over and over again—like a record player with a broken needle skipping over the same grooves of the vinyl. Brock had left hours ago for the clubs, determined to find some girl to hook up with before the night was through. Ash wished that he had his determination when it came to women. So far, he only had that with Pokemon. He continued to walk back and forth in front of the counter. In this moment, Ash would have rather been faced with rampaging Gyarados.

His thoughts had been consisting of 'don't panic' and 'she's getting married' when she came through the lobby doors. His head turned slowly, and he felt his heart leap in his chest when her countenance came into his vision fully. She was wearing her hair down like she had before. It flowed down past her shoulders, ending at the small of her back. She was wearing a strapless periwinkle dress that went down to her mid-thigh and open-toed kitten heels to match. He hadn't expected her to look this nice. He felt a bit stupid for trying to be so casual.

He could barely hear her greet him over the hammering of his heart. He took several deep breaths, attempting to get a grip. She was talking, but it was as if his life were stuck on 'mute.' After a few moments of her chatter, she paused, realization that her words were not reaching him settling in. She waved her hand in front of his face.

"Ash, are you even listening to me?"

"Huh?"

She sighed. "Some things never change."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," she replied as they walked out of the lobby and through the automatic doors. It was starting to get dark outside. "It's just that you're in your own little world. Thinking about all the Pokemon you want to catch before you have to go home?"

"No," he said as the balmy summer air hit his face. He started walking in the direction of the restaurant he had planned on taking her. She followed close to him, half jogging in order to keep up with his longer legs.

"Well, what does go on in that brain of yours, Ketchum?" she asked with a smile, linking her arm with his. He almost forgot to keep breathing when she did.

'You,' he wanted to say. Why did she have to do that to him? Tempt him—without meaning to—when she was not available nonetheless. It felt like his brain was about to explode, but all he could think about was how desperately he wanted to grab her by the shoulders and kiss her. Though, it occurred to him more than once that she probably didn't even want that, being engaged and all—so he refrained.

"Believe it or not, Miss Waterflower, I do think of more than just Pokemon."

"Oh?" Her heart gave a jolt. Could he…? No! Impossible! But maybe…

"Well, there's my mom and stuff…" he replied sheepishly. 'You're such an idiot.'

"Of course." See? She should have known better. What was wrong with her? This was Ash they were talking about here. He wouldn't recognize the opposite sex even if she dressed up in a giant Dragonair costume. Why was she having these thoughts anyway? She was supposed to be getting married!

The rest of the walk to the restaurant was spent mostly in silence on Ash's part. Misty did most of the talking, pointing out places on the island that were new or her favorite to visit. He drank in every bit of her—the way she walked, the way she fiddled with her hair while she talked, her laugh—everything. He was starting to get drunk on her, pushing away the thought that it was only for this one night.

Misty couldn't help chatting incessantly. It was the one thing that somewhat alleviated the knot in her stomach. What if Rudy found out about her "date?" Knowing Rudy's feelings about Ash, maybe she should have declined his offer in the first place.

"Well, here we are," said Ash, speaking for the first time in several minutes. "La Boniche."

They were standing outside of a small black building with bay windows on either side of the heavy oak door. A single pane of glass sat inside of it, nestled adjacent to the handle. La Boniche was a French provincial restaurant tucked away in the busy shopping district. It was quite exclusive. Misty had only been there once in her life—it had been the place that Rudy proposed to her.

"Ash, we're eating here?"

"Yeah," he said, frowning. "Do you not like French food anymore?"

"No, that's not it," she replied. Was he that dense?

"Then, what's the issue?"

"Well, other than the fact that this place has like a six-month waiting list?"

"Oh, does it?" Ash said as he held the door open for her.

She stared back at him, one of her eyebrows raised. She hesitated for a moment before walking into the dimly-litentryway. It was virtually empty except for the posh-looking hostess standing in front of an ornate walnut podium. No one else was there because there was no such thing as waiting for a seat at La Boniche. What was Ash thinking?

The hostess narrowed her eyes at Misty. "Can I help you?" she said in an exasperated tone.

"Ash Ketchum," Ash said, coming up behind Misty. "I called this afternoon."

Her expression was skeptical, but she shuffled some of the papers on the podium until she pulled out a magenta sticky note. She scrutinized over it before plastering the fakest smile Misty had ever seen.

"Right this way, Mr. Ketchum," she said, walking through the doorway to the dining room, not bothering to grab any of the menus sitting in the holder on the podium.

The two followed her through the packed dining room. Couples in fancy clothes chatted over the candlelit tables while they ate their five-star meals. The hostess kept walking until she got to a door that said "Employés Seulement."

She led them through to the kitchen. The two immediately felt the sweat begin to form on their foreheads as they followed her into a corner with a small table, covered by a white tablecloth. Sitting in the center as a sea glass vase, holding a single red rose. Surrounding it were two formal table settings with more forks than with which Ash knew what to do.

"A place at the chef's table like you requested," she said over the shouting voices right next to them.

"Thank you," Ash said as she left. Ash pulled out the chair and waited for Misty to sit before he slid into the booth on the other side. He was about to speak when he was interrupted.

"Ash!" An older and boisterous man said as he approached them. He had graying facial hair and was wearing a white chef's jacket. "It's been too long."

"I know. I know," Ash replied. "I've been really busy."

"I saw it in the paper! Champion, eh? That's impressive, no?"

"I guess, but I'm still the same guy."

"But of course."

"Hey thanks for doing me this favor."

"It's no problem. I mean we need to make the evening enjoyable for you date, no?"

Misty was about to speak, but Ash beat her to it. "Oh no, Rene. It's not like that. She's just an old friend from when I was a kid."

"I see," he said.

"I hope that's not a problem."

"Of course not. Although," he added before leaving. "Sometimes childhood friends make the lovers."

He left without another word. Ash cleared his throat, hoping that she wouldn't pay attention to the blush that had begun to creep upon his face. Misty shifted uneasily in her seat. The only sound that transpired was that of Ash's beating heart. It was so loud that he was sure that she could hear it.

The appetizer course had come and gone, and yet all that remained was that silence between them and the noise of the kitchen. It continued like that for some time. After the sous chef had come to take their plates away before the next course, Misty finally opened her mouth.

"So," she said. She took a sip of her giant glass of pinot noir. "You know the chef here?"

"Uh yeah," he replied. He grabbed his own glass, and started downing it. He took the bottle and poured himself another glass. One of the Misty's eyebrows rose. "We met back after I had won my badge from Trovita. Tracey and I helped him out of a jam with a bunch of wild Beedrills terrorizing his customers."

"Oh wow."

"Yeah, he says that he owes me his business, but I don't know about that."

She hadn't heard that story yet. She felt a twinge of sadness following the end of his tale. She wondered why he had never told her that story. Before they had lost touch, he had pretty much been in the habit of telling her everything. It wasn't that she had missed out on that adventure (On the contrary. She was relieved. Beedrill—no thank you!). She realized that she had really missed him.

The main courses came while Misty had been contemplating her life up until that point. She silently cursed at Ash for coming back into the picture now of all times. She couldn't help but stare at his dopey smile as she took a bite of his filet mignon off of his plate. It was good, but her duck a l'orange was amazing. Her cheeks grew red when their hands brushed. 'Married—you're getting married,' she reminded herself.

"So, how have you been?" Ash finally asked.

Married. She was getting married. He wanted her to come out and say it. It didn't seem real until then. She needed to say it.

"Fine. Everything's been fine."

Should she tell him? She shouldn't have been there even. Rudy would be upset if he knew what she was doing. What did it matter though? The dinner was innocent—two old childhood friends catching up. Still, he could be so jealous sometimes, especially when it came to Ash, she recalled. Hadn't it been enough that she had chosen to stay on Trovita? Wasn't he satisfied with her saying yes?

"Everything going well with—" Ash swallowed. "Rudy?"

He would force it out of her, even if it killed him. Though, he knew that she had every right to refuse. He hadn't kept in touch with her. It wouldn't be fair to expect her to share anything with him. He could only hope to be let back into her life in some way.

"Things are good," she said with a smile. She took a deep breath before continuing. Might as well get it out there. "Actually, Rudy and I are getting married on Saturday."

There it was. She was really getting married—to Rudy. It wasn't that he didn't believe Brock. It was so surreal. Hearing her say it didn't make anything better. What was wrong with him? She was his friend. He should have been happy for her. So…why wasn't he?

"That's great," Ash said with a forced smile, trying to act pleasantly surprised.

Something was off about him. Misty chewed on her tongue. She expected some sort of shock or surprise, but there was nothing of that sort at all. Whatever it was that Ash was trying to convey, she could see right through it.

"You already knew, didn't you?"

"No, Mist I—"

"Oh save it, Ash. You're still a terrible liar."

"All right, fine," he sighed. "Yeah, I already knew about it."

Her expression fell. A crease formed between her eyebrows. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Brock told me not to!"

"He told you?"

"Yeah," he replied, scratching the back of his head. "He mentioned it while we were catching up this afternoon. He said that's why he was here—because he was invited to your wedding…It would have been nice to hear it from you first, you know."

His words cut Misty a bit. It wasn't her fault that they had lost touch with each other. He was the one who lived like a nomad. Her number hadn't changed in the decade of living on this island. It was much easier for him to contact her than the other way around.

The thought had crossed her mind—sending him an invitation. It would have been simple enough. Mailing it to his home in Pallet Town would have at least given it a chance of reaching him in time. She was sure that his mother would have mentioned it the next time that he had called. The thing that had stopped her was Rudy. Growing up, any mention of Ash would produce the foulest expression upon his face. She hadn't even dared to bring up his name when they going over the guest list.

"I'm not the one who stopped calling," she said stiffly.

"I know," Ash said softly.

There was something in his expression that got to Misty. Her heart gave a lurch. It had not done that in many years—not since she had been a young girl traveling with a brash raven-haired boy.

"I shouldn't have let our friendship go by the waist sides."

"Then why did you?"

"I honestly don't know. I mean—I don't know—"

"What is it, Ash? You can tell me."

But he couldn't tell her. How could he tell her that he could no longer stand it with Rudy in the picture? He couldn't reveal that her fiancé got under his skin when they were younger. That would mean admitting to—well he still wasn't sure what that was, but it couldn't be good, could it?

"I was just so busy, that's all," he lied.

'You idiot,' he said to himself. 'You could have at least told her about the few attempts you made to call her.'

Even though he hated this weird feeling in the pit of his stomach while doing it, the last few times he had attempted to call her—sometime during his stint in the Sinnoh League—Rudy had always been the one to answer, and he had always given some excuse about Misty being busy with this smug look on his face. Without giving Ash a chance to reply, he would end the call. He couldn't know for sure, but Ash could have sworn that he was purposely heading Misty off to answer her calls. After about four or five times of this frustrating experience, he gave up for good. He needed to focus on his dream and lose all of the troublesome distractions.

"Uh well, it looks like you were, Mr. Pokemon Master."

"Oh, do you have to call me that?"

She smirked at him. "Well, it's true now, isn't it?"

"I guess," he replied. "It still doesn't feel real to me."

"How come?" Misty grabbed the half-empty wine bottle and poured herself another glass. She lifted her eyes from watching the red liquid flow down the side of the crystal.

Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the food. Whatever it was, Misty was experiencing euphoria that she hadn't felt in a long time. Having Ash in front of her seemed right for some reason. Talking to him came so effortlessly. She could just go with the flow and not worry about what to say next to keep the conversation going.

When she had finished pouring the wine, Ash reached out for it, his fingers resting over hers. Misty felt a jolt of electricity through her fingers and up her arm. Her hand recoiled. Ash made no notice of this as he proceeded to pour the remaining contents of the emerald green bottle into his own glass.

"A few years ago, I almost gave up on Pokemon," Ash admitted before taking a sip of his wine. The taste was a bit strong to his liking, but he needed it to calm his nerves around the woman in front of him. Did she have to go around breaking hearts wherever she went?

Misty choked on her drink. "W-what?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

He sat his glass down on the white linen back in the center of the red ring that had formed over the course of the evening. He thought to order another bottle. If he had to sit here with the knowledge that his date was a betrothed woman, he might as well get wasted. He got a line cook's attention and pointed to the empty bottle. The cook rolled his eyes, but walked away and came back with a bottle of pinot noir and a corkscrew. He popped open the cork and replaced the empty bottle in the ice bucket. Ash muttered his thanks as the cook sauntered back to whatever he had been doing. Ash grabbed the new bottle and topped off his glass. He pressed it up to his lips and took a big gulp before setting it back down.

"Well…" he began. "I think that at some point it felt like it was something that would always be unobtainable. So I thought, 'what's the point?' If I was never going to make it, then what was I doing?"

"But you did keep going," Misty said. "And look what happened."

"I guess it was good that I didn't quit then," Ash said with a sheepish grin.

"What made you continue?"

"Umm," he paused for a moment, debating. Should he tell her?

"Oh c'mon," she said. "You can tell me."

"Well," he took a breath. "To be honest, I thought about you."

"About me?" Her heart skipped a beat.

"Yeah," he said, the ghost of a smile present. "Just that you would have kicked my ass if you knew that I was thinking about quitting. So that's probably what kept me going at least until it seemed that I would actually be getting somewhere with it."

"Yeah, I would have," she replied. "I'm glad you didn't."

"I should have called."

"You should have," she said, her voice steady. "But there's nothing to be done about that now."

She went for the bottle, a mixture of emotions swirling around. She poured herself another glass, the buzz of her previous one still within her. It felt so easy with him. It took no effort to keep a smile on her face. Why did she always feel so carefree around him? Being with Rudy, by contrast, felt so serious. It was romantic at times, but others it was a bit of a chore. Rudy kept her up on this pedestal from which she was never allowed to come down. With Ash, she could feel her wings beginning to spread so she could fly.

Their dessert course had arrived. Two perfectly sized chocolate soufflés sat in front of them. Each white ramekin rested upon a small dessert plate, garnished with whipped cream and raspberry coulis. Misty dug her spoon into the chocolate goodness and put it into her mouth. She closed her eyes and gave a soft moan. It was so good!

She took her time with it, savoring each bite. After what was only her third tiny scoop, she glanced across the table to see Ash was almost done with his. She paused as he shoveled his over-flowing spoon into his mouth.

"You know you might enjoy it more if you slowed down."

"But it's so good." His eyes lit up, and she couldn't help but beam at him.

"But it would be better if you savored your food."

Ash shrugged his shoulders and continued to eat at his current pace. Misty sighed and shook her head. She placed her spoon down on the plate and picked up her glass and took a big gulp of her wine. The thought of Rudy was progressively fading away, leaving her alone in the candlelight with the beautiful boy in front of her. For a moment, she forgot all about the wedding.

She ate the rest of her soufflé in silence. Was she doing the right thing sitting here with Ash? It was starting to feel like a date to her—something that was not supposed to happen. They were just old friends. She was getting married.

"Are you ready to go?" Ash asked, shaking her from her thoughts.

She gazed down at her empty ramekin. "Uh sure."

"Unless you want to order another bottle of wine."

"No, no. We should be going. It's getting late. I have to get back to Trovita."

They left some money for a tip, thanked the chef for the delicious meal, and meandered through the dining room and into the balmy air outside. The warm breeze was a bit sobering, but not enough. Misty staggered a little, losing her balance and nearly falling. Ash caught her with one of his arms.

"Whoa," he said, steadying her. "You sure that you're okay to drive a boat?"

"I need to get back though." She bit her lip. Rudy was going to kill her if she didn't show up that night.

"Not like this though," he said latching onto her arm. "I can't let you go. You could get hurt."

"But—"

"No," he said firmly. "We can figure something out at the hotel. Maybe they'll have an extra room or something. C'mon."

He held onto her arm as they moved away from the restaurant. If Rudy found out about this, Misty was a dead woman walking. She tried to put that thought behind her as she let Ash lead her down the boardwalk toward The Sleeping Shellder.

"That should do it," Ash said as he dropped one of the pillows from the bed onto a freshly unfolded cot. A single pink blanket with a satin edge covered the starchy white sheets.

"Are you sure that you don't want to sleep in the bed?" Misty's voice came from the bathroom. "Don't you have a lecture tomorrow?"

"Don't worry. It's fine," Ash called back. "It's in the afternoon anyway."

When they had gotten back at the hotel, they were informed that there were no other rooms available. There wasn't even a room that Ash could have swapped with two queens instead of the large king that lay before him. The solution was to squeeze a cot in the room next to the bed. Misty hadn't been too keen on the idea at first, even if Ash elected to take the cot. What if something happened? She quickly shook the thought from her head. What could happen anyway? Even if she were single, Ash would never think of her in that way anyway.

"Sorry I don't have anything better for you to wear."

"It's fine," Misty said as she emerged from the bathroom wearing a black t-shirt that hung off one shoulder and shorts that were tied on the side with a hair elastic. "What are we going to do if Brock eventually shows up?"

"He can sleep on the floor."

"Pika!" a voice piped in.

The two looked over to see Pikachu sitting on the bed. His ears perked up at the sight of Misty. He bounded to the end where they stood.

"Well, look who's finally up," Ash commented.

"Hey there, Pikachu," Misty said as she scratched under his chin.

"Cha!" the electric rodent squealed in delight.

"Did you want something?" Ash asked as he picked up the phone. "I'm going to order some room service."

"You're still hungry?" she asked.

"A little," he admitted, shrugging. "Anything for the lady?"

She grinned. "Maybe a bottle of champagne."

"Coming right up."