Chapter 7

Ash shined the golden GS ball as they walked along the path back to his house. The air was cool and crisp, signifying that fall was just around the corner. It was late afternoon by the time they caught sight of Delia Ketchum's little pink house.

Misty's legs felt like they would fall off, but her mind had been preoccupied most of the day with what she saw in Tracy's sketchpad the night before. She didn't tell him what she saw, she was too afraid to. She just wanted to pretend like she didn't see it. He reached over and grabbed her hand as they got closer to the house.

Ash felt a burst of energy as he ran towards the house. "Mom! I'm home!" He opened the front door and announced his arrival.

"Is that you, Ash?" A fimiliar voice sounded from the kitchen. Misty immediately froze, and so did Ash. They exchanged a glance and Tracey wasn't sure why.

"Brock?" Ash asked, dropping his backpack on the couch.

Brock walked around the corner, and Misty's grip on Tracey's hand loosened.

"Hey guys! Welcome home!" Brock said, ruffling Ash's hair. His eyes then fell on Misty, and their gazes locked for a second.

"Hey Misty," he said, unsure of how she would respond.

She couldn't find her voice, her heart felt like it was going to be out of her chest.

"B-Brock," she said, her voice almost a squeaky whisper. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm baking a cake, it's in the oven right now. I was hoping to get it out before you guys arrived," he said, avoiding giving her a real answer. He saw Tracey standing beside her, protectively, and he had seen that they were holding hands when they entered the house.

"You must be Tracey," Brock said, offering his hand out. Tracey hesitated for a moment, then gripped his hand with all of his might and assertively shook his arm. "I'm Brock. I'm Ash and Misty's friend."

"Yea, I know," Tracey said, letting go of his hand and putting his arm around Misty. Brock looked at her for a moment before returning to the kitchen. "Did you guys want some tea? I just made some." He made three cups of hot tea and set them down on the kitchen table.

"It's very hot. I just made it, so be careful," he told them, opening up the oven to check on his cake.

"Brock, I don't understand, what are you doing here?" Ash asked him, taking a sip of his tea. "You're supposed to be on Valencia Island learning about all the unusual Pokemon!"

"I did," he responded. "It was time for me to leave. Sometimes there are more important things in life than Pokemon, Ash." His gaze fell on Misty when he said that, and she adjusted uncomfortably in her chair.

Delia walked in from outside, and smiled. "Oh, Ash! You're finally home!" She hurried over to him and kissed him on the forehead.

"Mom, you're embarassing me!" He said, looking over at his friends. Brock laughed and handed Delia a cup of tea.

"Oh, Thank you, Darling," she said, taking a delightful sip.

"How long have you been here, Brock?" Ash spoke up.

"Oh, he's been here about a week," Delia answered for him as he got his cake out of the oven. "He's been a huge help around here. He cooks dinner, makes delicious cakes, he does the dishes, he cleans the house. I think I might just have to ask Lola if he can be my son." She smiled.

"Hey!" Ash yelled, and she patted him on the head.

"I'm only kidding, Dear!"

"I'm just doing my share of work," Brock said, starting to wash the dishes. Tracey rolled his eyes. He just liked to please women, in more ways than just cleaning their house. He could tell Misty was distracted, confused and angry with Brock.

Delia finished her tea and set it back down on the saucer. "Well, I must finish my gardening before it gets dark. Brock, do you need any help with the dishes before I go outside?"

"No, Mrs. Ketchum, don't worry about a thing. I got it!" He said, buried up to his elbows in soapy water.

Brock stopped momentarily as he made eye contact with Misty. Tracey practically forced her out the door, away from Brock. Delia busied herself with pulling weeds from the ground as her son and his friends sat down at the back porch table.

"Did Brock say why he left Valencia Island?" Ash asked.

Delia shook her head. "No, but he insisted on staying here and not going home. I assume he and Professor Ivy had a falling out."

Misty looked uncomfortable at the mention of Brock's relationship with professor Ivy. Delia noticed this and stood up. "Misty, how have you been? Have you been doing alright?"

She was a bit surprised, but she nodded her head. "Yes, Mrs. Ketchum. I've been doing good."

"Yea," Tracey said, grabbing her hand. "I've been taking care of her. She makes me incredibly happy." He kissed her cheek and Misty felt uncomfortable.

"Well, that's sweet," she said. "Weren't you guys supposed to go see Sam-I mean, Professor Oak tonight about something?"

Tracey nodded, enthusiastically. "I've been dying to meet Professor Oak!"

"Oh, yea, I almost forgot!" Ash reached into his backpack and pulled out the GS ball. "Let's get this to him right away!"

...

Tracey had bombarded the professor with tons of questions. The professor happily answered them all, and offered a tour of his lab to Tracey. Ash, of course, followed a long, but Brock had his mind on other things. Was Misty in love with Tracey?

Brock waited patiently until Tracey was just to distracted by the professor to notice. Then he touched Misty's shoulder, for the first time in 6 months, he touched her and she felt her heart skip a beat. Those warm hands hadn't touched her in so long. Ash and Tracey walked ahead with the professor.

"Misty, can we talk?" He asked.

"I don't really want to talk to you," she replied, without having to even think about it. Brock expected this, he knew she was angry with him. And she had every right to be.

"Misty, please...just talk to me. I don't usually beg, but I'm begging you to please just talk to me," the desparation in his own voice even surprised him. Misty looked up at him for a moment and agreed. They exited the lab and settled in the shade of a large Oak tree just outside the lab.

Brock didn't quite know how to begin or what to say, he walked back and forth for a while, until Misty sighed, agitated.

"Brock, I don't really have time for this. My boyfriend is going to be looking for me any minute and he doesn't need to see me talking to you," she said, folding her arms across her chest.

"Do you love him?" He asked, looking her in the eyes. His face held a seriousness, and an anticipation.

"I don't know, Brock," she said, looking away from him. "Why does it matter to you anyway? You left me!"

"And I'm sorry! I made a huge mistake!" Brock declared. "I was stupid, and I was so afraid of being rejected by you that I just...ran. I'm sorry that I hurt you." He brushed a strand of red hair away from her face, and she loved the feeling of him touching like that. He was so soft and gentle, yet firm and strong at the same time. He smelled of cologne and body wash, that familiar scent that she always loved.

"Brock, what happened between us...whatever it was, it's over now," her voice was unsteady and unsure. "I'm with Tracey now."

"I know, and I don't want to disrespect that," Brock moved closer to her, his strong, lean form loomed in front of her. "If you're happy with him, I'll leave you alone. I talked to a guy at this little Tiki Bar the night I left Felina. He said he talked to you the day after we were together, and I told him how I felt about you. Misty, I knew I had to come back here and find you."

"Did you love her?" She asked.

"No," Brock answered, without hesitation. "I've always loved you. Since day one, it's always been you." He moved closer to her until her back was pressed against the tree.

"You love me?" She asked, sounding unsure.

"I'm in love with you," his hands moved from her waist to her hips and he pulled her close to him. "Do you love me?"

"I-I-" She stammered, a mix of nervousness and arousal made her mind foggy. "I'm with Tracey."

"I didn't ask that," he whispered softly. "Do you love me?" He hooked his fingers in the belt loops of her jeans and pulled her towards him, his lips hovering just over hers.

"Ahem," a voice from just a few feet away caused them to jump apart. Misty feared it was Tracey at first, but it was Gary Oak. She wasn't sure which one was worse.

"Whoa!" Gary said, grinning. "I always thought you had a thing for Ash. I'm surprised to see you out here making out with Brock."

"We weren't making out," Misty corrected him, tartly. "I was just going back inside to be with my boyfriend, Tracey." She stormed off, and Brock sighed, leaning against the tree.

"I gotta hand it to you, Brock," Gary said, putting his hands in his pockets. "You've got balls going after her when she's got a boyfriend."

"I'm not scared of Tracey," he said, kicking a pebble across the yard.

"You should be," Gary lit a cigarette, and offered Brock one. He declined quickly.

"Why?" Brock asked.

Gary took a drag, and breathed it through his nose. "He's posessive as hell. If he sees you trying to get in Misty's panties, he'll probably kill you. He has this weird obsession with my grandpa, too. I don't know, the guy just creeps me out."

"I love her," Brock said.

"She's gotten pretty hot," Gary said, taking another drag. "I'll give you that. But I wouldn't risk being castrated over it. You're playing with fire, Dude."

...

Professor Oak and his grandson, Gary, had decided to join them for dinner. Misty made sure that she sat at the opposite end away from Brock, who kept exchanging glares of disdain with Tracey the entire time. Samual Oak stood up about half way through dinner and tapped his glass.

"Everyone, Delia and I have an important annoucement to make," he said, smiling over at her as she stood up beside him. "Ash, your mother and I have decided we're getting married Christmas Eve of this year!"

Ash's eyes grew wide. "W-what?"

Gary looked equally as surprised. "You mean Ash is going to be part of my family?"

"That's right, Gary," Samual said, smiling at his grandson. "So you two better learn to get along."

"That will never happen," Ash said, folding his arms.

"Ash..." Delia said, in a sweetly yet scolding tone.

"I'll try..." he said, giving him a disgusted look. Gary returned it, and then leaned over to Brock.

"Tracey fucking hates you, Dude," Gary told him.

"I know he does," Brock said, seeming to be the only one who wasn't shocked by the announcement. He knew they were sleeping together the night he arrived here. "Misty's still attracted to me, I know she is."

"So go for it," Gary said, underneath the chatter of everyone else. "If you love her, you have to fight for her."

"I plan to," Brock said in a tone that told Gary that he didn't need any advice. He knew what he was doing. Delia showed Misty her ring.

"Oh, it's beautiful Mrs. Ketchum," she said, smiling.

"Maybe Tracey will get you a ring just like it someday!" Delia said, blushing.

Tracey laughed. "Someday when I become a Pokemon researcher like Professor Oak!"

Samual laughed. "Oh, to be young again...Gary, would you go upstairs and get my pipe, please? I believe I left it on the nightstand the other night." He winked over at Delia and she gave him a kiss.

"Sure, Grandpa," he said, quickly making his way upstairs. However, he was distracted. He wanted to know more about this Tracey guy, and so, he stopped off in the guest bedroom where all of their things were. Tracey's backpack was full of sketchbooks, most of them full of Pokemon, and then some of Misty, which Gary found to be creepy. He was obsessed with her. He looked through the rest of things and found another sketchbook that didn't look as used as the other ones. Most of the pages were blank, but flipping through he saw a picture, and he flipped back. A guy, who he didn't recognize, appeared to be laying on a floor with blood pooling all around him.

"What the fuck?" Gary asked him to himself. He kept flipping, and flipping until he saw a sketch made of Brock, a knife sticking out of his chest. He was a fantastic artist, very realistic drawings, which made it even creepier.

He quickly closed the book and let the nausea subside. My God, what had he found?

He sat there for a moment, until he was startled by heavy footsteps behind him.

"Gary, what are you doing?" Brock's voice broke the silence of the room and Gary felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

"Brock, you gotta watch out, dude...this guy...he's fucking sick," He clumsily opened the sketchbook and showed him the picture. Brock grabbed the pad away from him to take a closer look, then looked up at him in disbelief.

"Oh My God," he mumbled.

"He's obsessed with Misty. He's drawn hundreds, maybe thousands of pictures of her..." Gary flipped through his other sketchpad. "She's in danger, we're all in danger if we don't get this guy out of this house."

Brock knelt down beside him and opened up Tracey's bacpack. Condoms fell onto the ground and Brock felt his heart sink.

"Jesus..." Brock picked them up and saw that the box had been opened. "They're having sex...he's having sex with her!" He raised his voice.

"Shh!" Gary said, covering his mouth. "Calm down! He's going to hear you and then we're all dead! Look for a weapon...or something."

Brock gathered his bearings and continued to look through the backpack and he pulled out a small felt box. He immediately opened it and revealed the most beautiful diamond ring.

"Gary..." he showed him and Gary shook his head. "He's going to ask her to marry him. God damn it..."

"Brock, you gotta protect her..." Gary told him. "He's going to hurt her...possibly kill her and you, and probably Ash...and as much as I hate to admit it, I don't want that dimwit to die. I won't have anyone to embarass!"

"Misty is the love of my life, I'd never let anything happen to her," Brock said, closing the ring box and putting it back into his backpack. "Pack up his stuff, go grab the Professor's pipe. We just have to act natural."

...

Delia and Samual had retired to bed, and the entire house was quiet. She could hear the faint sound of a shower running from across the hall, and she knew it was Brock. Ash had fallen asleep a short while ago, and Misty was getting pretty tired herself.

There were only two guest bedrooms, one that Brock occupied and another one, which Misty reluctantly agreed to stay in with Tracey. Ash slept in his own bedroom. Misty busied herself with rubbing herself down with lotion and Tracey laid back against the pillow, watching a re-run of Family Fued.

"So, that's Brock, huh?" He asked, startling her a bit.

"Yes," she said, not looking at him.

"Pretty handsome guy," Tracey said, absently staring at the television.

"Not really," she said, nervously. She knew he could tell she was lying.

"Misty, do you still love him?" He asked, straight-forward.

"Tracey, don't do this," She begged him. "I'm tired, I just want to go to bed."

"We can go to bed, just answer the question," he said, his tone becoming irritated.

"I don't need to answer any of your questions, Tracey!" She stood up and faced him, he jumped to his feet.

"If you want to run around with some desparate house husband that has a thing for older women because he has mommy issues, than you go right ahead! If you want a real man, you can stick with me!" He said, gripping her shoulders. "You won't even fuck me! You almost fucked him, but you won't even come close to having sex with me!"

"I'm not ready for that!" She struggled to get away from him.

"Then what good are you to him?" Tracey asked, his grip becoming tighter. "Why would he even want you? That's why he left you for Professor Ivy. She might look like a dog, but she gave him some pussy. You were just useless to him!"

Misty couldn't help but cry. Tears streamed down her face and she tried to pull herself away from him. "Let me go, Tracey. You're hurting me!"

"Stop struggling!" Tracey said, his anger mounting. "You're crying over Brock, huh? That must mean you still love him!"

"Just let me go!" She begged him.

"God damn it, Misty," he pushed her against the door, and slapped her across the face. The room spun for a moment, and her face felt like it was on fire. She leaned against the wall to regain her balance and she looked at him, through the bluriness of tears as the spilled down her cheeks.

"Misty..." his voice was calm. "I'm..I'm sorry. I don't know why I did that." He approached her, but she cowered from him, reaching for the doorknob.

"No!" She said, turning the knob. "No, you stay away from me!" She ran out into the hallway, and she realized she had nowhere to go. Everyone was asleep. It was dark out there. Delia's room was dark and quiet, her and the professor were asleep by now, they apparently didn't hear Tracey's yelling. Ash was sound asleep in his room, and Brock...he was in the shower. She could still hear the water running.

She was scared, and her instincts urged her to run into the bathroom and be close to the one person she knew would protect her. She was angry with him, and she was trying so hard to hate him right now, but she just wanted to feel safe.

The bathroom door opened, and Brock was a bit startled. He remembered what Gary had said to him earlier, and he pictured Tracey outside his shower with a knife. He cleared the soap from his face, and slowly opened the curtain. He was surprised to see Misty standing there in her silk, light blue outfit she always wore to bed.

"Misty, you scared the hell out of me," he said, smiling.

"I'm sorry," she said, trying not to cry in front of him. She stepped into the shower with him and wrapped her arms around his neck, crying so hard she almost stopped breathing.

Brock was in shock, but he wrapped his arms around her back and kissed the top of her head, that was quickly becoming soaked by the warm water. "Hey, hey, shhh...What's wrong?"

"I've just missed you so much," she pressed herself against him, her clothes were clinging to her body.

"I'm here now. I'm never leaving you again," His hands were all over. The silk fabric of her clothes clung to her body tightly and Brock felt himself becoming aroused, but he didn't want to scare her off. He was completely naked and he knew it was going to be difficult to hide from her.

"Did you mean what you said earlier?" Misty asked, looking up at him. His hands grasped her hips and lifted her shorts up, appreciating every inch of her curves.

"I meant every word," he whispered, pulling her towards him. "I love you, Misty."

He looked into her eyes, and she looked up at him. "I love you, too. I've loved you since I first saw you."

"Please forgive me for being such an idiot," he peeled the silk fabric of her shirt away from her waist. She shivered at his touch, the warm water soothing the goosebumps she got from him. She took an appreciative look at his body. He was so defined, strong, solid. His skin was a deep brown, warm and smelled so good.

"I'm still mad at you," she said, softly, as his lips hovered against hers. He teased her a bit, letting his hands explore her body more.

"That's alright," he replied. "Sometimes that makes it better." He pressed his lips against hers softly, at first, and she responded to him more aggressively. He pulled off the silk top and slid off her shorts, pressed her back against the tiled wall, and lifted her legs up around his waist.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered against her skin. He kissed down her shoulders, to her breasts. She closed her eyes and let out a soft moan of pleasure. Brock supported her legs with his arms and he lifted her a little higher, until he was eyelevel with her waist.

"Brock, w-what are you doing?" Misty asked, looking down at him.

"What I should have been doing to you for the last year and a half," he softly kissed the delicate skin and made her quiver with anticipation. She felt his tongue tease the sensitive bud, softly at first and then quicker and quicker.

"You taste so damn sweet," he moaned and pressed her lips against her again. She panted heavily, her fingers delving into his hair as she felt tha familiar feeling of climax mounting up inside of her. God, she wanted to hate him. She wanted to be disgusted by his touch, she wanted to be reminded of how much he had broken her heart, but all she could do was close her eyes and enjoy the feeling of him pleasing her like this.

"Oh my God! Brock, Yes!" She moaned out rather loudly as she felt her orgasm approaching. Everything felt so good. Brock was an expert with his tongue, knowing just where to touch her and how to please her. He steadied her against the wall and slowly inserted his finger into her, until she flinched in pain.

"Ow," she yelped quickly and he looked up at her.

"You're still a virgin?" He asked, feeling relieved. She hadn't had sex with that psychotic asshole.

She nodded shyly. "Is...that a bad thing?"

"Not at all," he smiled up at her and tasted her again. He enjoyed the way her innocence tasted, and he reveled even more in the fact that he was the only man in the world that ever got to taste it.

"Don't stop!" She begged him. He softly kissed the soft bud and that action sent her over the edge. She tried to keep quiet as she felt it building up inside of her, in jerky snaps conducted by the rhythm of his tongue. He sucked on her clit, as if to taste every drop of sweetness she had. He felt her body stiffen and she threw her head back against the wall.

"Oh, Brock! Yes! Yes! Yes!" She moaned in complete ecstacy. It was much longer than last time, more intense. After she had calmed, he lingered there, and licked all the way down her inner thighs, kissing just by her knees and looking up at her. Slowly, he let her stand on her feet, but her legs felt like jello. He held onto her for a moment, and she leaned against the wall for support.

Brock was still very clearly aroused, and she looked down at it, a deep blush came to her cheeks.

"Sweetheart," he lifted her gaze up to meet his. "Don't ever think that you have to have sex with me to get me to love you. I love you now, and I will after. Don't ever let any man ever make you feel differently about that."

"Brock, I don't want to go back in there and sleep with Tracey," she said, as he handed her a towel.

"Did he hurt you?" He asked. "I'm gonna kick his ass."

"No, Brock, please..." she begged him, grabbing on to his arm. "Not now. It's past midnight...you'll wake everyone up." As if her loud moans of complete sexual pleasure didn't already do that.

Brock opened the bathroom door, half expecting Tracey to be standing there with a knife, or a gun, or God knows what. But the hallway was empty, quiet, and dark.

"Then you're sleeping in my bed tonight," Brock slipped on a pair of boxers and picked up Misty's wet pajamas. "You can wear something of mine. You don't have to go back in there and get your clothes."

He led her quickly to his bedroom and locked the door. He handed her an over sized tshirt and a pair of boxers. "That should be comfortable enough to sleep in...unless you just want to sleep naked."

"I thought you said we didn't have to have sex," she said, grinning at him.

"We don't," he said, laying back on the bed and switching on the television. "It'd be nice, though."

"I'm still mad at you," she said, turning her back to him and letting the towel fall to the floor. His eyes traveled from her bare back, where he long, damp, red hair trailed down her back to her very round derierre. She smiled back at him, and felt a sense of satisfaction seeing the gaze he kept on her body as she pulled the shirt of her head. It came to her knees, and smelled just like Brock. She sat on the edge of the bed and slipped on the boxer shorts, as she felt him slide up behind her and kiss her neck.

"So, you are going to torture me, huh?" He chuckled softly next to her ear, and she felt her whole body shiver. He was so sexy, it drove her mad. "You'll have to forgive me someday."

"Someday," she promised him, pulling the sheets down and feeling comforted by the fact that she actually got to sleep in a real bed for the first time in a while. Brock turned out the lights and switched off the television, and he wrapped his arm around Misty, pulling her close to him.

"I will promise you one thing, I won't ever let anyone hurt you," he said, closing his eyes and he finally felt sleep overtaking him. She was back in his life and he wasn't going to lose her again.