It had started so simply; the evening was wonderful, and all three of them acted much closer than they had done in months—that's what happens when one receives an unexpected victory in their job. Upon delivering the stolen rare pokémon to Team Rocket headquarters, Giovanni had presented them with a hefty paycheque, most of which was already saved in their meagre bank account, but the humans had treated them to fine food and enough alcohol to knock out a lamp post. As the night wore on, Meowth left the party to partake in a night's hunt even though he wasn't especially hungry on this occasion. Something positive had changed in the atmosphere, and he didn't want to be the unwanted third wheel whilst their moods were like this.
Jessie had, for some unknown reason, decided to challenge her partner to a staring contest in spite of their highly intoxicated state of being, throwing in the clause that each time someone lost, they had to remove an item of clothing. She knew she didn't have a hope of winning when she lost the first four consecutively, so she used foul tactics to ensure she didn't lose the next. As suspected, his eyes immediately flew to where her hand was on her person. He became wise to this trick, and in spite of having to suppress his overdriven hormones by not enjoying a free porn show, he won the next couple of matches by pretending to be drunk enough to know she was a transvestite, even though he knew for a fact from what he'd seen that she wasn't.
She was down to her last item of clothing, and he wanted more than anything to watch her exposed chest, but he knew if he won this round the reward could be greater. She decided to cheat again, by sitting on his lap with her legs enticingly wrapped around his waist so he could feel most of her pressed against him. She felt part of him pressing against her and she looked down for a second, knowing instantly she lost. He slid his fingers around the material and eased the last item off; savouring every second of it, as he knew it would probably be the only chance in his life to do it. She challenged him to one final round, where he replied she had nothing else to lose as his eyes wandered over her body. She tilted his head upwards to make eye contact with her before revealing that there was still one thing she could lose. The hungry look was visible in both pairs of eyes when she lost by blinking, yet they satisfied it with means other than food.
The next morning he'd woken up first, and the first thing he did was stare at the sight in his arms in disbelief; he'd thought it had just been a very satisfying dream induced by the alcohol he'd consumed (miraculously he wasn't suffering with a hangover). She looked almost serene in her sleep, so he avoided movement in case it woke her up; he finally felt ready to tell her how he felt about her whilst sober, praying she wanted something more than casual sex. When she woke up, however, his plans leapt out of a fifty-floor building and were squashed by all between it and the ground. She took one look at him and groaned, saying she'd thought it had just been a drawn-out nightmare.
Maybe she's just got a really bad headache or something; she didn't mean that, surely?
She shot him one look of disgust to question why he was still holding her before she stood up as quickly as she could with minimal staggering, heading towards the smouldering ashes of the campfire to gather her clothes up again. She touched herself once and spat a comment out at him that degraded him for making her bleed. He was crushed by her actions—she'd been the one to lead him on for it! He hurriedly pulled on the clothing beside his sleeping bag that he'd worn up until the point they'd made love and joined her to question her total change of heart, yet all he received in response from her was an uppercut and a demand for him to leave her alone until he knew how to be a half-way decent lover.
Her comments were icier and more frequent by the end of the day; with each hurtful word or punch she felt less human with the way she treated him, but was far too proud to admit she regretted her attitude. She felt it was just as dangerous to turn back as it was to continue so she battered his self-esteem relentlessly. After a couple of days, he'd had enough of her treatment and began hating her for it, thinking he wasn't as worthless as she implied along with his own change of heart. She'd crossed the line by too many paces this time.
****
Meowth sat on the windowsill in the tiny kitchen, looking out into the night with his midnight blue irises, wondering how his friends went from best friends to arch nemeses in the span of two weeks. His tail flicked irately against his will; partly because he was stuck in the middle of a sticky situation, partly because he was certain something was in the woods near them that shouldn't be, yet he had no proof to soothe his thoughts that the latter was non-existent. He'd initially thought Jessie deserved everything she got from the way she'd treated James, but upon hearing her screams a quarter of an hour ago he didn't know to what extent he'd exacted his revenge. At least he knew they were both alive from the footsteps his sharp hearing detected, plus the soft whimpering he heard his female friend emitting intermittently. Suddenly the soft noises stopped, and he heard the gentle walk of the injured woman violated by sharp intakes of breath, the kind one generally makes when in discomfort. He asked her how she was as she soaked a cloth under the tap; her response was showing him the lacerations. He visibly winced as she did whilst applying the cloth to her nether region. He could almost hear her thoughts praying that James wasn't about to return, his own joining her for the moment, until she'd cleaned herself up and let the pain subside a bit first. His tail had inconspicuously picked up speed and fluffed out as his other friend became acquainted with his other friend.