Welcome to the second chapter!

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The featured story for this chapter is Misty the Matchmaker by AngelicFairy. "Misty is a successful matchmaker at 22 and everything's going smoothly until one day, a stranger enters her shop. She seems to know him but can't tell who he is. He keeps coming back, wanting a match, but not with someone else. He wants a match…with her."

Thoughts: I've read up through chapter nine on this story, and I think it's really good. The story features a lot of throwbacks to old characters, and the way that Ash and Misty's story develops is funny and enjoyable.

This story currently has 2 reviews, 5 favorites, and 4 followers. Thank you!

As always, hate of any kind will not be tolerated. I don't care who you are.

"Ash, will you please hurry up? We're going to be late, and it'll be all your fault!" Misty yelled, pounding on the bathroom door.

Her husband's muffled voice came back at her, equally as annoyed. "Mist, I'm going as fast as I can. You know that it takes me a while to shave. I can't cut myself."

She huffed, "I thought you said you finished shaving ten minutes ago!"

"Yeah, well now I'm trying to get my hair the right way."

Misty groaned and gave up. Taking a few steps back, she sat down rather heavily on the bed. There were times when she was almost 100% positive that she'd somehow married a woman trapped in a man's body. Ash took more time in the bathroom getting ready than anyone she'd ever known.

That included May, too, who always had to re-do her makeup at least three or four times before she was satisfied.

Deciding to make good use of her time, she re-checked their luggage for the third time. Misty was a careful traveler, always making sure that she and Ash had everything and anything they could possibly need. Ash always said that she over-prepared, but she never listened all that close to the advice of someone who got lost going to the grocery store.

Sure enough, the suitcases were just as perfectly packed as they were the last time she checked. Ash had all of his clothes and hygiene items stowed away, as did she. Their shoes were perfectly arranged in the shoe bag, and their swim gear was organized neatly in the swim bag.

Misty was debating whether or not she should start bringing them downstairs when the bathroom door finally opened. She whirled around, ready to make some snide comment about his arrival (she and Ash were particularly good at that), but stopped mid-breath.

Her husband, in all of his childish glory, was standing before her dressed in what had to be the most gaudy, tourist-y, revolting outfit she'd ever seen him in.

He was wearing a bright blue Alolan shirt with little orange Alolan Exeggutors on them over a yellow zebra shirt. His pants were what she could only describe as a cheap powder blue color. And as if it couldn't get worse, he was wearing pineapple socks with sandals.

It took her a whole three minutes to find her voice. "Ash..."

He shot her a beaming grin. "Isn't it great? I found all of this stuff at Wal-Mart yesterday!"

Misty felt like she was going to throw up. "What exactly made you think that this-" she gestured at his whole outfit "-was a good idea?"

Ash's smile died a little. "You don't like it?"

She cringed. "Ash, honey, those clothes do not go together. Absolutely not."

"But these are all 'sunny vacation' clothes!" he protested. "The signs at the store said so."

Her head fell back, her eyes focusing on the spinning ceiling fan as she tried to suppress a mixture of annoyance and laughter. "Just because they're all one type of clothing doesn't mean that they all belong together."

"Well," he said defensively, "I'm changing that rule. I think it looks good, and that's all that matters."

This time, Misty looked at him, entirely serious. "You mean that you're sticking by this?"

"Yeah."

She stood up. "Ash Ketchum, I am not walking into a public airport with you looking like that." She pictured all of the people there staring at them, trying to contain their laughter as Ash strolled on past. Now, Ash never really was bothered by what others thought of him, and she admired that. But regardless, she wasn't about to watch him make a fool of himself.

"Why not?"

"Because," she drawled, "everyone will stare, and the paparazzi will go nuts. Every magazine from here to Unova will be plastered with this atrocity of an outfit."

He folded his arms. "Well, maybe that's a good thing. Maybe I'll start a new fashion trend. Zebra print and Alolan shirts, with bright pants of course."

Misty shuddered as she thought about a thousand crazy fan boys and girls dressing in outfits like that. That was just what the world needed at that moment.

Looking at Ash, however, she could tell that he really did feel his outfit. Whether it was simply his excitement over the reunion bleeding over into his fashion taste or just his goofiness in general, she didn't know. She did know, however, that she wasn't about to force him to wear something that he didn't want to.

Well, for the most part.

She grabbed the sides of his Alolan shirt. "Just do me a favor. Button this up."

He looked a bit confused. "Huh?"

She stepped back. "I will not let that hideous shirt be out for everyone to see. So, button your Alolan shirt up. That way, we both can be happy." He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. "I mean it. I don't want my excitement over this trip to be ruined by that shirt."

He sighed and did as she asked. As he did so, she spun on one foot and walked back over to the bed, scooping up the two suitcases. She was about to leave the bedroom when a strong hand grabbed her arm.

She looked over her shoulder, finding her face a mere inch away from Ash's. "I can take the suitcases," he offered. "You take the shoe bag and the swim bag. And your purse."

She pursed her lips. "I'm fine."

He let go of her arm to grab the suitcase in her right hand. "I'm not kidding, Misty. I know that you can, but you won't. Not right now."

Knowing perfectly well that Ash could be just as stubborn as she, Misty let go of the luggage. Her husband swept them up himself and headed out of the room. Grabbing her own bags, she followed.

The pair headed down the stairs and stopped by the front door. While Misty did a quick sweep to make sure that the water was turned off and the security systems were armed, Ash snuck his way into the kitchen.

Now, Misty had told him several times that he was not to bring any snacks to the airport. The airlines had banned the possession of outside snacks recently, primarily to try and force people to buy the snack boxes that they offered mid-flight. Anyone who was caught trying to bring outside food onto the plane would have to throw it out, and as a result would be delayed in security.

Ash, however, truly believed that he was perfectly capable of sneaking a snack or two past the nosy security personnel. He would probably end up buying a snack box or two anyways, so it wasn't like he was costing the airline any money.

He whipped open a cupboard, knowing that he had to be fast. There was no telling when Misty would be back, and she'd be expecting him at the front door.

He shifted through all of the boring stuff to get to what was in the back. He often hid his favorite snacks way in the back of the cupboard, right where his wife couldn't reach them. The cupboard was just high enough so that Misty, who had ended up 5'5 tall, couldn't reach the very back without help.

A smile broke out on his face as he discovered what he'd been looking for. He felt the hard corners of the box and pulled it out, the sun striking its glorious blue front. Ash eagerly reached into it, pulling out the second to last package.

When they'd first come out, he'd expressed disdain at the idea of mini Oreos. What was the point in shrinking a good thing? But after realizing how easily he could sneak them both past his wife and into places where he wasn't supposed to have food, he'd grown to love them more than almost any other snack out there.

"Ash?" The Pokemon Master froze as he heard Misty call out his name. Fast as a Pidgeot, he thrust the bag of mini Oreos into his shirt pocket and rushed out to meet her.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him as he approached. "What were you doing in the kitchen?"

Fortunately, his mind actually managed to come up with a believable answer. "I was just checking to make sure I'd unplugged the toaster."

She seemed to believe him. "Okay. The water and security are all set. Now, you're absolutely sure that you fed your Magikarp last night and remembered to lock the garage?"

He nodded. "Definitely. I'm trying to get those 'karp to grow into big, huge Gyarados. I wouldn't forget to feed them, ever. And as for the garage, I checked it after breakfast this morning."

Misty nodded. "Guess we're all set then. Let's go."

Lucy was really getting tired of Brock's chattering.

It wasn't often that her husband went on and on about things, which told her that he was just the slightest bit excited. She was happy about that, of course, but at the same time her left eardrum felt like it was about to pop.

She was too reserved to say anything, though. She was Brock's foil in a lot of ways; while he was spontaneously emotional, very well-versed in the subjects of Pokémon medicine and breeding, and great with kids, she was steady, of average intelligence, and awkward with the kids.

All in all, that pretty much meant that she usually ended up listening to her husband instead of the other way around.

"-and the time that we found that lost child in the Safari Zone who'd been raised by the Kangaskhan," he was saying. "I wonder if they'll remember that? I told you about that, didn't I?"

She gave him a somewhat-distracted look. "Um, yeah. Yes."

He frowned. "Are you listening to me?"

Lucy nodded, beaming a broad smile at Brock. "Of course! I always do!"

He seemed to believe her. "Anyways, I bet everyone will have so many stories to tell. Us included. I don't even think Gary's wife has met you yet!"

She wrinkled her nose. "Did Dawn really have to invite them?"

"Yeah," Brock answered, as if the answer was obvious. "Gary and the rest of us are all on good terms now, even if he still fights with Ash sometimes. It'd be rude not to invite him."

Her eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror, where she caught a glimpse of her sleeping children. "I don't have an issue with Gary. I have an issue with his wife. She's going to be a bad influence on our children." She lowered her voice. "I mean, she's an exotic dancer!"

Brock, knowing that his wife was too focused on the road to notice, rolled his eyes. "Luce, it's fine. She's not going to be working at the reunion."

She pursed her lips. "I just don't want any of her bad influence rubbing off on our children. They're much too young to even begin to understand her... line of work."

"Which is exactly why they'll be fine," Brock argued. "Even if she does say something, they're too young to understand. Besides, they'll have other kids to busy themselves with. They'll hardly be around her at all."

"And what about you?" she questioned. She could feel the surprise reverberate off of her husband. "Can I trust that you won't go oogly-eyed in front of the kids the first time you see her?"

It took Brock a while to respond. He milled over his response, trying to figure out the right way to word it. When it came to his impulsiveness around women, he had to tread lightly. He was not unfaithful, of course, and he knew that his wife trusted him to never go beyond just looking. Even still, she could get quite sensitive over the topic.

At last, he said, "I'll try my very hardest. You know that."

She pursed her lips, but accepted his response nonetheless. It was honest, and that's all she ever really asked of him.

"Besides," he suddenly added, his tone a tad lighter, "Strippers aren't really my type. I'm not a fan of sharing my woman, or of watching her take off her clothes around a bunch of other men."

Lucy felt her cheeks heat up. "Brock," she chastised, "do you really have to talk like a high school boy? Honestly."

He smirked. "'I'm just teasing."

She huffed. "Well, for the record, I don't like sharing my man, either."

"So then neither of us have to worry."

"Yep."

For the next hour or so, everything was relatively quiet. At one point, A.J. had woken up and popped the all-too famous question: "Are we there yet?". Lucy had, with a mixture of irritation and amusement at her son's eagerness, informed him that it would be at least six hours before they arrived in Sunyshore City. The young boy groaned with disdain, but the darkness in the car combined with the soft music Brock had playing quickly lulled him back to sleep.

Lucy and Brock were fortunate. Many of their friends often complained of loud car rides that featured such joys as throwing food, fighting, and making a general mess of the back seat. For the Harrisons, they were able to go quite a distance before any of that even became a possibility.

Now, when they actually arrived at their destination, it would be a totally different story. A.J. and Dean would be completely rested after a long night of nothing but sleeping, giving them plenty of energy to run about and likely do the exact opposite of what Brock and Lucy wanted them to.

Lucy supposed that was good, since kids had to be kids. Brock always said that a little mischief and a lot of play makes a childhood. Listening to his tales of the heroics and mishaps he and his friends got into as kids, she couldn't deny that he just might be right.

Even so, she was sure they were in for one hell of a weekend... in more ways than one.

We're almost there! I wonder what kind of trouble a goofy Ash, a still-flirtatious Brock, an arrogant Gary, and his stripper wife will get into.

To explain the whole "Brock moons over other women but isn't unfaithful" thing, my headcanon is that, after years of chasing after many different women in the hopes of scoring a girlfriend, gawking at every beautiful woman he sees is basically ingrained into Brock's personality. He retains the flirtatious side of him from his younger years, but makes up for it by being a faithful husband who saves all the best comments for Lucy, and of course a great father.

See you next time!

- Nony