"Looks like Team Rocket's blasting off again!" the trio yelled as they flew through the air yet again.
They landed rather painfully on a dirt road miles from Ash and his friends, sliding a few feet before finally losing all momentum and stopping. They groaned as they layed there, trying to grasp their bearings and figure out what hurt and how best to get up. Jessie sat up first as usual, hissing as she felt her sore muscles protest.
"Well this is just great!" she hissed as she stood up, testing how hard it was to move.
"Those brats!" snapped Meowth, rising to his feet as well. "One of these days I'm gonna thundershock them and see how they like it!"
"That's not all we'll do," Jessie growled as she tugged on her skirt, desperate to preseve what little modesty the uniform provided. "Well James, what are you waiting for? Get up! We've gotta get moving to catch up to those twerps!"
To her surprise, he didn't jump to obey as he usually did, and her anger flared.
"Didn't you hear me? I said get up you big baby!" Soft whimpers met her ears, and her anger dimmed, replaced by a small amount of concern. "James?"
Meowth cocked his head, confused as to why the man didn't get up and complain about their failed mission as he usually did. A faint odor hit his nose, and he sniffed deeply, recognizing but unable to name the scent. His eyes widened as he realized what it was.
"Jessie, he's bleedin'!" he yelled.
Her eyes widened before she schooled her features, walking over and kneeling by her partner. She gently rolled him over onto his back, afraid to injure him more. A rather large scrape ran up his leg, his pants torn to reveal the deep cuts. More blood seeped from his left arm and side, apparently where he'd taken the brunt of the fall.
"Meowth," she called, "go find the first aid kit in the balloon. I'm fairly sure our camp is somewhere around here. He scurried off, and it was only when he was gone that she allowed her concern to show on her face. "James, look at me," she said, tone far gentler than normal.
Green eyes filled with tears cracked open to focus on her. Her hand came up and wiped away the tears beginning to leak from his eyes, her touch equally as gentle as her voice. He leaned against her palm, the touch comforting.
"Don't worry, you'll be fine," she said, a small frown marring her features.
"I know," he ground out through clenched teeth. "I always am when you're around."
She blushed, but didn't reply. It was silent then, the only sounds their breathing.
"I got it!" Meowth yelled, running up the road, causing them both to jump slightly.
"Good, give it here," Jessie demanded, voice once again hard.
The cat handed over the kit, stepping back to give her the room to work. Gently, she pushed back the torn pants leg and began cleaning away the blood, eyes flashing as she saw the depth of the scrape. His side was worse, and she actually had to pull out a rock that he had landed on before she could stitch it up, nearly growling in rage. By the time she got to his arm her blood was boiling and her eyes resembled flecks of ice. James was openly sobbing, his yelps the only thing breaking the silence.
Meowth watched, worried but confident that Jessie would patch him up. He almost felt sorry for the twerps if she ever got her hands on them. Everyone knew no one hurt James and got away unscathed, and this was the last straw for the firey redhead, that much was apparent from the proverbial steam rising from her head.
"There, all done," Jessie said, wiping off James' blood onto her skirt, uncaring of the potential stain.
She helped him sit up, noticing his wince as the stitches pulled. He leaned on her heavily, the ordeal wearing him out. She allowed his head to rest on her chest, her hand absentmindedly running through his hair.
"Thanks, Jess," James said, resting his hand on her thigh.
She hummed, though she wasn't really paying attention. Those twerps were so dead when she saw them next. No one hurt James and got away with it.