I don't this one sucked too badly. Even though it took like forever to get done. But here I am posting at night, like usual, and it's only 11:30! New record. XD

Vixen

As a man of less than many words, Ash Ketchum was proud to say that he knew the two most common definitions of a vixen.

The first was an ill-tempered woman, while the second was a sexually attractive woman.

The Pokémon Master knew these definitions not from looking in a dictionary, but by looking at his own wife. Misty Ketchum was the most shrewish, loudmouthed, sex goddess in Cerulean City.

Well, she wasn't the same sex goddess to everyone else as she was to Ash, but it was all still true.

Not that Ash would ever tell her that.

Oh no, she already knew. And the feisty gym leader constantly used it to her advantage.

"Ash, I've been telling you for the last three months that I want the master bathroom painted!" Misty sighed across the breakfast table one sparkling Sunday morning over a slice of toast.

Ash didn't bother to look over his Pokédex before answering.

"Babe, I've been telling you for the last three months that I'm busy!"

"Busy? Busy doing what?" Misty guffawed, shoving her last bite of toast into her open mouth. "Making out with Dexter?"

Ash indignantly set the red device down on the table and folded his arms.

"Ha ha, you're so funny. What's the big deal with the bathroom anyway? I think it's a nice color."

"It's white, Ash."

"What's wrong with white?"

"It's boring!" Misty exclaimed, watching Ash stare blankly at her from his position at the other side of the table.

"Misty, if that's some sort of racist comment, I really don't think it's funny."

Misty slapped her forehead to prevent herself from slapping her husband. Tilting her head up towards the ceiling, she dramatically asked, "Oh, why does he still have to be so dumb?"

"Hey, I'm not dumb!" Ash cried even more indignantly than before. "I'm just... a little slower than you, that's all!"

Misty sighed and dropped her head into her waiting palms.

"I'm sorry, Ash, I'm just frustrated!"

Hearing his wife's apparent distress, Ash swallowed what was left of his pride and rose from his seat to approach her. He grabbed her slender shoulders and gently pulled her out of her seat and into a tight embrace, letting her forehead rest against his broad chest. Misty said nothing, as she occasionally did when she was more upset than angry.

She also did this when she was trying to get her way, which Ash still didn't always pick up on.

Ash just held her tighter, looking over her head with ideas of trying to make his wife less upset with him entertaining his thoughts. Of course, Ash rationalized, that was a ridiculous plan of action for the only way to make Misty happy was to do what she wanted. Running his hand through her soft, red bedhead waves, he found the courage to swallow the pride he thought he had already swallowed.

"This isn't because I'm a bad husband, right?"

"Mm, no," Misty murmured, shaking her head in a negatory fashion against his chest. "You're a wonderful, perfect, sexy husband. I just wish I had a prettier bathroom..." Ash instantly realized he had no pride left to swallow to begin with.

Just like every other married man in the world.

The following Saturday, Ash was dressed in his oldest shoes, his oldest pair of jeans, his oldest black T-shit, and one of his red League hats placed backwards over his messy spikes. He stood on top of a sea of newspapers in his and Misty's master bathroom. An open can of mint green paint was sitting atop the bathroom counter, which had also been covered for protection.

I wish she would have just let me hire a painter... but no, it's too "impersonal."

The walls themselves had the first coat of paint freshly applied. Ash had to admit that while the morning of painting had been unexpectedly difficult, he was pretty proud of his work so far, despite the fact that Misty had conveniently disappeared that morning to go "window shopping" (Ash had a slight suspicion that she actually wanted to replace the windows in their home), Charizard thought it would be funny if he popped out of his Pokéball to surprise his trainer with a flamethrower—an antic by which Ash was neither amused nor anticipatory—, and Pikachu was merrily pressing his paint-dipped paws against the newspapers, even though the Pokémon Master explained to him that his fur would be temporarily stained.

By the end of the day, Ash was just glad he'd gotten more of the paint on the walls than on himself.

Surveying his work, Ash placed his green-stained hands hands on his hips and looked around the room, making sure he hadn't missed any spots.

"Pika!"

The Master-turned-painter looked down to his left and saw his yellow companion sticking his small, greenish arms up in the air like a child asking to be picked up. Ash sighed and obliged, sifting through Pikachu's soft yellow fur, only to find the unholy amount of mint green paint he had failed to previously notice.

This won't do... Misty will kill me if she sees that stupid green paint in Pikapawprints all over the carpet...

"Looks like someone needs a bath!" Ash giggled in spite of his slight disdain.

"Pikachu!" He closed his eyes and waved his lightening bolt tale happily.

"Man, you're like Misty with the way you love water, huh?" Ash asked, carrying Pikachu toward the doorway. Pikachu simply nodded as Ash slipped his sneakers off on the newspaper and stepped into the carpeted master bedroom, making his way to the downstairs bathroom to give his starter a very necessary bath.

Half an hour later, once Ash had done his best to wash the minty stains out of Pikachu's yellow body, he stepped into the shower to wash the minty paint off his body. Over the water, as well as his scrubbing and humming, Ash failed to notice Misty's return home.

Pikachu, on the other hand, found her immediately.

"Pikachupi!"

The gym leader was in the middle of removing her strappy spiked stilettos when the yellow Pokémon greeted her in the foyer. The first thing she noticed when she stood up to her full, unadulterated height were copious spots of faded green present all over Pikachu's body. Smirking to herself, Misty placed her black leather jacket on the coat rack and directed her attention to Pikachu.

"You're all green! I take it you helped Ash paint the bathroom?"

Taking Pikachu's happy nod and the green stains as proof enough, Misty wandered toward the sound of running water and found her young husband in the shower of their ground-level bathroom, Pikachu prancing along beside her.

"Okay, Pikapal," Misty trilled. "I gotta go talk to Ash while he's in the shower. You don't mind, do you buddy?"

Pikachu exhaled and knowingly walked away.

Humans and their mating rituals.

Misty, on the other hand, had already disappeared behind the bathroom door.

"Honey, I'm home!" she said unnecessarily, smirking once again. Ash poked his soaking head out around the curtain and grinned.

"Hiya, Misty! Didjya' see the bathroom?"

"No," Misty purred over the sound of the shower, pulling her royal blue top over head to reveal an deceivingly innocent white bra. Ash raised an eyebrow. "But I did see the green Pikachu and I figure if you got nearly as much paint on the wall as you did on him, you did just fine!"

"Um, thanks?" Ash watched her slip out of her tight white jeans with interest, forgetting about the paint still chipping off his wet face.

Soon enough, Misty's naked body was pressed against his as she enticingly kissed his neck under the scalding water.

I always get my way, Misty thought devilishly, letting her tongue graze across her lover's throat. And I even get to have fun afterward!

Ha. Misty wins.