Late, late update. Sorry. I want to finish this story, but I have no idea where I'm going with it. I do need a break from Lull, though. Yes, I shameless plugged a story.

I'm planning on revising this thing. Mostly the "Sean/Dean" plot line because, well, reading it over it sounds lame. I'm just going to make him unrelated to Archie because that's lame and probably get rid of that acronym thing. I think it'll be much more believable (and less coincidental) if I do that. But we'll see.

I'll admit it; I was tempted to write a smut AU (as in what could have happened) to continue off the last chapter. You all tempted me to do it. XP We'll see. Maybe I will if you lot keep bugging me about it. D:

Enjoy!

...

Wednesday – May 16h, 2012

...

"Mm ... what time is it?"

There was a grunt, followed by the ruffle of bed sheets. Something rattled on the chestnut nightstand as the figure lifted itself from the bed, grasping the cold plastic of the pokénav.

"Ten minutes 'til ten," the deeper voice replied before flopping back down onto the bed, shaking the mattress. His hand was still clutched around his pokénav as he let out a loud snore, closing his eyes again.

"Ugh. Slept in later than I wanted." Brendan felt May lift her figure from the bed as she rolled onto her back before sitting up, stretching her arms over her head. Giggling a bit, she reached over and lightly poked Brendan in the head, hearing him grunt once more.

"Why must you torment me?" he muttered, rolling back onto his stomach and burying his head in his pillow.

"You make it so easy." Brendan felt May move toward him, lying on top his back and pressing her lips against the side of his neck, gently kissing it. "Good morning," she whispered, her breath tickling his ear. "And thank you."

Brendan turned around slowly, shifting May to his side as well, and stared at her. Her brown hair was sprawled across the pillow, tangled; it kind of reminded him of a taillow's nest. "For what?" he asked, his eyes still closed. "I didn't do anything."

"Exactly," she replied hastily, still lying on top of him. She tucked a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear. "You could have, but you didn't."

"May, I have a lot of respect for you," he murmured. He shifted his body so he laid on his back, the girl falling on top of his chest. He rested his chin on his chin and stared down at her, trying not to breathe his morning breath on her. "I didn't want you to regret doing something you may not have wanted to do." Oh, the irony. He cringed at it a bit, his eyelids closing in on each other, but he played it off by rubbing his eyes with his fingers. When he opened them, he stared at the ceiling of his motel room, watching the ceiling fan circulate a cool breeze through the room.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

His left hand gently clenched the bedsheets. He wanted to kill Wally at that moment. Not only was he thinking of the green-haired prat when there was a beautiful girl in his bed, he implanted his evil "This is wrong!" morality babble in his mind. Yes, they didn't do anything, him and May, but the fact that he could have easily could have (and believe him how easy it was and how hard it was not to) was what troubled him. This is what he wanted. He wanted May. He wanted May with him. And she was with him. But she wasn't at the same time. She was suppose to be with someone else, even if she was lonely and even if she was the one that made the move on him not once, but twice.

His mind flooded with memories of last night. Oh, god.

He quickly shifted his body, causing May to drop back down to the mattress, and turned his back toward her, crossing his legs at the knees and hoping that his ... troubles would soon die down. Think about Wally again and his stupid cheater talk.

He heard the bed creak and felt May's warmth leave his back as she sat up. She adjusted the strap of her white tank top and turned toward the window, which was covered with a heavy, red cloth. "No answer, hmm?" she teased, stretching her arms over her head and resting the flat of her palms on the top of her messy hair. She yawned and licked her teeth before closing her mouth. "Guess I'll go take a shower." She pulled the blankets away from her and crawled toward the edge of the bed before jumping to her feet. The folds of Brendan's flannel pajama bottoms that she had borrowed for the night draped down, covering her feet. She bent over, grabbing some clothes off the floor. "I'm gonna borrow your toothbrush!" she said in a singsong voice as she headed toward the bathroom near the front door, locking it behind her.

Feeling safer, Brendan rolled over to his back and stretched out, arms above him and bent to rest against the wooden headboard. As he closed his eyes, contemplating what he had just did – or could have done – he heard his pokénav give three loud beeps. He turned his head, staring at the lit up screen. It was indication that he had received text message – and apparently a lot of them as his pokénav continued to beep the longer he stared at it. Brendan grabbed the damn thing and managed to open his message box when rapid knocks on the front door caught his attention.

"Latios," he muttered, getting out of bed and kicking the sheets onto the floor in the process. He dragged himself to the door, scratching his belly, and opened it, not surprised to see Wally standing before him, one hand clutching a newspaper and the other clutching his pokénav.

"What the hell did you do?" was his demand, his eyes narrowed. He ruffled the newspaper in his hand and pocketed his pokénav. "I've been texting you all morning!"

"Hum ... I thought we were past that stage where we bragged about what we did." Brendan winked.

"I'm serious, Brendan." Wally stamped his shoes on the concrete before stepping in, closing the door behind him. It was then Wally took in what Brendan was wearing: nothing, with the exception of black boxers with green poké balls printed on them. "And for god's sake," he muttered, walking further into the room, scuffing his feet against the rough blue carpet with geometric purple circles. He pulled a dark green polo off a hanger from the closet near the bathroom and threw it at Brendan. "Put some clothes on."

Brendan caught the shirt and pulled it over his head. "Nothing," he replied honestly. He looked around, kicking back the blankets to find his jeans. "The dinner didn't work out exactly as I planned, so I ordered some pizzas and brought her up here." He motioned toward the empty pizza boxes encrusted with dry cheese lying at the foot of a table near the television as he slid into his jeans. "We got a little tipsy – well, she got a little tipsy. Girls are pretty bad at holding their liquor." He let out a laugh that quickly died down when he noticed Wally was still glaring at him. He zipped up his jeans and buckled his belt. "Anyway, it got late, and I was going to walk her home, but she wanted to ..." How could he politely phrase this? "Let's just say she wanted to spend the night here. That's it. Nothing happened." He sighed at this. "Nothing too bad anyway."

"Yeah, well, according to the tabloids, a lot more happened than just 'spending the night.'" Wally threw the newspaper on the table where a magazine slipped out. Brendan, while clipping his poké balls and pokénav to his belt, walked over and pulled the magazine out, staring at the cover. It was a blurry picture of him and May walking the path between Mauville and Verdanturf with his arm wrapped around her and her head pressed against his chest. In the corner, in a bright yellow circle with red font, was the promise of "More pictures inside!"

"Oh, come on." Brendan rolled his eyes, flipping the magazine open to find said pictures while sitting down in a chair near the table. "Like anyone believes this stuff." He managed to find the page, his eyes flicking back and forth across the photos. One was of him and May standing at the door of his hotel room, though it, too, was blurry thanks to the weather last night. The other was of him and May in their earlier days, as fifteen year olds. The tag line was "Childhood Love: Reignited?"

"Read it," Wally urged, taking a seat across from Brendan and crossing his arms.

He skimmed it, reading a few choice words. "Blah, blah, Brendan Birch is the son of blah, blah ... aspiring pokémon researcher who finishes his internship in a year and will be bestowed the honor of following in his father's blah, blah ... How does this tabloid know this much about me?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

"Things aren't that hard to find, Brendan. Keep reading."

"Something or another blah, Brendan and May have been recently spotted spending time with each other. Blah, blah, years ago the two were a couple but separated as the two followed different career paths ... blah, blah, what could have been a cute child reunion is quickly soured once everyone realizes that May is soon to be married in a few weeks this month." He sighed. "Fantastic. The media knows. These pictures don't really prove anything, though." He threw the magazine back on the table, staring at the picture of him and May as kids. Had it really been eight years? He still felt like he was that kid in the picture, grinning up at him with his bandanna askew and his clothes stained with remnants of the dinner he had just eaten.

"It doesn't matter." By now, Wally had picked up his copy of today's newspaper and was reading it. He peered at Brendan from over the top of it, wrinkling the paper at the middle with a crinkling noise. "It still puts the idea of it into readers' heads. Not good. None of this is good, really, but that tabloid makes things ten times worse."

"So is this all over Hoenn?"

"It's a local tabloid, so no, but I'm sure they have a website. Haven't checked." Wally swung his backpack around and opened it, revealing stacks of paper in the back pocket. "I took all the ones I could find, but there might be more out there."

"Thanks." Brendan let out a sigh of relief, ruffling his hair in hopes of cleaning it up.

"Don't feel too relieved. There might be copies out there, still–" Wally turned his head when he heard something click behind him, followed by the creak of an opening door. He quickly grabbed the copy of the tabloid off the table and shoved it into his backpack, zipping it up. "Oh, May. You're here," he said nonchalantly as he hung his backpack over the back of his chair. He turned his head toward Brendan, placing his newspaper down. "You didn't tell me that." Brendan could sense the tension behind that forced grin.

May gathered her wet, brown locks with one hand and wrung it out, letting the drops of water fall into her other hand. "Yeah. I crashed here. Was too tired to walk home," she replied with a smile, releasing her hair from her grip and letting it drape against her shoulders, dampening the collar of her polo. "It's nice to see you again. What have you been up to?"

"Gym renovations as usual." He motioned for her to sit in the seat in between himself and Brendan. "How was ... what did you two do last night?"

Such an awkward question, but Wally seemed to relish in it, smirking. "Dinner," was Brendan's stern reply as May took the free seat, running a hand through her tangled hair.

"Right. Dinner. How was that? You cooked, didn't you, Brendan?" asked Wally, staring at Brendan and leaning back in his seat, raising his eyebrows for a second. "Brendan's learned to be a pretty good cook, May. You know that?"

"No. I just learned that yesterday. I wish I got to taste it, but ... um–"

"Mishaps happened," Brendan interrupted, glaring at his friend.

"Mishaps, huh? That sucks." Wally was smiling now, his nose starting to crinkle. Brendan had learned this was Wally's way of holding back his laughter.

"It does."

"I hope you found something else to do to occupy your time."

"We did, thanks."

"I'm hungry," said the oblivious May, unaware of the awkward tension between the two boys. "Have anything to eat?"

"There's a fruit basket on the counter near the bathroom," answered Brendan, not taking his eyes off Wally who had now had to bite his lip to contain his laughter. He made motions with his hand, the ever popular slicing motion across his neck. Wally replied with the classic middle finger motion, grinning.

"Quit being an asshole," Brendan said under his breath.

"Oh, fine. Ruin my fun," he whispered back, pouting, staring at the side of the room.

May had rejoined the two boys, an apple in hand. She rubbed it against her jeans before taking a bite out of it, juice dribbling down the sides of her mouth and running down her chin. "Mmm ..." she mumbled between her closed lips, wiping at her mouth with her fingers.

Brendan knew Wally wouldn't keep his word: "Was that the noise you made last night?" asked Wally jokingly.

"You're fucking dead," Brendan quickly replied, standing up, knocking his chair to the ground.

May almost choked on mouthful of apple but managed to swallow it. "Brendan, calm down. I mean ... it is kind of suspicious that I'm still here, and it's obvious that he was joking. At least he better be joking ..."

Wally smiled innocently, his eyes still staring at the side of the room.

"Nothing happened, though," she continued, gripping her apple firmly in her right hand. "Right, Brendan?" She directed her attention from the grinning Wally to the fuming Brendan who had both his hands on the table, leaning into them.

"Right," he said through gritted teeth.

"Was just friends catching up, that's all." She took another bite out of her apple and swallowed it after a few chews. "You know, I think all three of us should hang out today," May suggested. "It's been awhile since we've done that. Are you busy today, Wally?"

Brendan gave a few shakes of his head, a clear sign that said "You better be fucking busy," but Wally nodded. "For you, May, I have all the time in the world."

"You were always such a sweetie, Wally. I'm glad to see that didn't change." May smiled and placed her half-eaten apple on the table. "Think we could pick up a quick lunch somewhere, though? The apple is kind of ... gross-tasting."

"Of course. I'm sure you two must be starving." Wally stood up, May following suit. "Let's get out of here. And get over yourself, Brendan."

"Do you see my shoes? They're white sneakers," asked May as Wally lead her to the door, kicking back the sheets that managed to find themselves on the floor. Brendan had remained firm in his spot, staring at the backs of his friends, his teeth still grinding together. If he could last the day without babbling his feelings toward May, babbling what had actually happened to Wally, babbling how fucking guilty he felt about what actually happened, or not killing Wally in some horrible, twisted death that would probably involve Wally's throat and whatever Brendan had at hand in the moment, it would be a miracle. With a sigh, Brendan pulled himself together, grabbed his wallet and bandanna off the dresser, and followed the two out the door, throwing his shoes on over his feet.

"Diner?" suggested Wally as Brendan closed the motel room, jiggling the doorknob to make sure it fully locked.

"Yum," she replied, licking her lips.

The three walked silently down the sidewalk, which eventually lead to the busy Mauville streets. Brendan was a bit behind Wally and May for a mixture of reasons. One was to keep Wally safe from himself (he was just out of arm's length) and another was to eavesdrop on their conversation without his crude interruptions. Wally was once a shy kid, one who could barely say "Hello" to others, but he had since worked on it. It had been, after all, a good number of years since the once sick kid caught his ralts with May's help. He was now able to conjure up conversation about, well, anything. The interesting thing about Wally, Brendan noted as he tied his bandanna around his head, was his ability to empathize with others, even if he hadn't experienced the same thing. Maybe it correlated to his being sick thing, he didn't know. He was undeniably honest, at least when it came to emotion. He knew that despite being a jackass to him at times, he would always have his back. His back currently needed information.

"Can't say I haven't been curious, May," began Wally, lifting his head to stare at the sky. It was still overcast from the night before, the gray sky making his pale face paler, but it had at least stopped raining. "How long have you known Sean?"

May accidentally kicked a puddle, sending drops of water flying. She hooked her thumbs on her belt loops, her knuckles brushing against the pokénav clipped onto the outside of her pocket. "Um, only a few months actually. But it felt right, you know? People think I'm stupid for getting engaged so fast, but I can't help how I feel."

Brendan snorted but luckily the two in front of him didn't hear him. They passed the outside of some shops. Brendan stared at his moving reflection, the tired twenty-three year old staring back at him in dismay. What did you do last night? it asked him.

"Gotcha," said Wally, stopping in front of the diner. He placed a hand on the metal railing of the door and pushed it forward, making the bell that hung from the top of it chime pleasantly. "How old is he?"

"Twenty-six."

"Oh, so not much older than us."

"Yep," she said, walking past Wally to enter the diner. She smiled at a passing waitress who was carrying a pitcher of water. Wally had entered after her, and Brendan caught the closing door, pushing it further so he could enter as well. He let it slam shut behind him, creating a short breeze that ruffled some of the papers on the wall above the cash register.

"He was ... always apart of his water reservoir business? Is that it?" Wally followed May again, who was now following another waitress to an open booth.

May slid into the booth with ease, making it squeak under her jeans. "Yeah. He's been apart of it for years now," she answered as Wally and Brendan took the seats opposite of her. She nodded politely and smiled as the waitress handed her a menu. "Family-owned. He was a trainer, though, but he didn't take the pokémon league challenge. He likes water-types, obviously." She placed the menu down on the table and looked at it, her eyes flicking back and forth to look at her food options.

Brendan and Wally did the same. "Have you ever visited his business?" asked Wally, his head down, playing with the corner of the laminated menu, bending it back and forth.

"Not yet. It's not like a zoo type of water reservoir. They take care of wild water pokémon that have gotten hurt and release them back into the wild once they recover. They also clean up the beaches. That's what Sean tells me anyway." She laughed lightly. "I never really pay attention when he talks business. A bit too mundane for my tastes."

"Sounds like he does good work for Hoenn then – just water, please." Wally looked up at the returning waitress who waiting on them for their drink order. "I'll take a cheese omelet as well, thanks."

"Iced tea for me, please." May handed the waitress her menu. "And I'll just take a stack of pancakes with a side of scrambled eggs."

Brendan had dazed out by now, staring out the window, his chin resting against his fist. "Uh, just coffee," he said, whipping his head around, startled when Wally nudged him in the arm. "And a ..." He quickly read over the menu, picking the first thing he saw, "breakfast burrito combo." He handed back the menu before resuming his pose of thoughtfully gazing out the window at pedestrians.

"So ... are you excited about getting married?"

This caught Brendan's attention, but he didn't turn back around, staring at a young trainer play with his treeko. The grass-type scampered around his trainer's legs, and the trainer spun around, trying to keep around with him but ended up tripping over his feet and falling on his behind.

"Oh ... yes," she replied. Brendan couldn't help but notice the hesitation in her answer. "He's a wonderful man. I'm very lucky."

That was a far cry from "I love you."

"I can't wait, really," she added.

Or could she? It took all his might to bite his tongue and not ask.

"I am a little nervous, but I guess everyone is before the 'big day.'" She let out another light laugh.

Brendan had slowly turned his head back around in hopes that it wouldn't catch the attention of Wally or May. He stared into May's face, noting her expression, a mixture of nervousness, happiness, and something else he couldn't place a finger on. Was she feeling guilty, too?

"Yeah," replied Wally, unraveling his utensils from its napkin container. The utensils clattered against each other before landing on the shiny table top with a muffled thunk. He played with the fork, gently pressing his palm against the top of it to make the bottom portion stand up. "Well, I'm happy for you. " The waitress had come back with their drinks. Wally lifted his cup of water. "To many happy years."

"Thanks." May unwrapped her straw and placed it in her iced tea. She stirred it, letting the ice rattle.

Brendan had opened his mouth, and an "I ..." found its way out his mouth, but he quickly closed it once Wally snapped his head toward him. He instead looked past May's head toward the other patrons sitting at the counter. Some had swiveled their chairs toward their booth. They whispered to each other. Their eyes were ... suspicious. Disbelieving. Angry. Or maybe he imagined that. Did they know what happened last night? Stupid tabloids. Stupid last night. Stupid him.

And then the anger hit him, surging in his belly and building its way up. How was May acting so calm? Did she just use him for some fun last night? He wouldn't mind if it was another girl, usually, as he always enjoyed a bit of 'fun' as well, but this was May, the only girl he really had feelings for. But she just brushed it off, like dirt off clothing, and let it float away to dissipate into the air until there was nothing left.

"I'll be right back. Gotta use the bathroom. You two have fun." Wally got up from the booth and walked past the table, heading toward the exit where the restrooms were located. May took advantage of the alone time and placed a hand on Brendan's hand, making him jump up slightly in surprise.

"What's wrong?" she asked, leaning over the table. "You've been acting funny all morning."

She couldn't be serious. "I don't know, May," he muttered back, making sure that other patrons couldn't hear him talk. "Maybe it's the whole you jumping me last night thing and then blowing it off. How are you just ... sitting there? You're ... you know. Engaged."

May slowly pulled her hand back and placed it in her lap. "Look," she whispered back. "It was a mistake, and I shouldn't have done that last night. Just we've been hanging out a lot lately, and all the nostalgia has been catching up, and I ... I couldn't ... It was a mistake, Brendan. I'm sorry. It means nothing. We can't do anything more."

"You know how I feel about you," he replied angrily. "I've been honest about it ever since we reunited. And to toy around with my feelings like that?"

"I'm sorry," she repeated in an urgent, more hushed, tone. "Like I said, the nostalgia hit me hard. Please ... please just try to forget about it."

Brendan just noticed the mug of steaming coffee in front of him. He grabbed a few bags of sugar out of the contained and ripped them open, pouring them into the brown liquid. "You know I can't," he said, watching the white crystals sink into his coffee. "And I don't think you can either. I'm not going to imply anything, May. I told you I'm not trying to steal you away–" Ah, more lovely lies to add onto his guilt, "–but you know as well as I do that nostalgia wasn't making you act that way."

"Don't do this, Brendan. Not here," she hissed. "It was nothing. It can't be anything more."

Brendan pulled out his spoon from its napkin confinements. "Fine," he simply replied, stirring his drink, letting it clink against the blue ceramic. He pulled his spoon out and placed it on the table before grasping his coffee by the mug's handle and taking a sip out of it, testing its heat before taking a bigger swallow. Channel your anger into the coffee, Brendan. The last thing you want it to make her angry with you again, or better yet feel guilty about what she did – rather, could have done – with you.

Wally, along with the waitress from earlier, had returned from his bathroom trip and sat down, staring at May's angry face before turning his head to look at Brendan, who was still drinking coffee with his eyes closed. He could read his body language, though: tense shoulders, stiff back. A stressful conversation had taken place while he was gone. "Uh–"

"We're okay, Wally. No worries," May replied before Wally could asking anything, forcing a smile on her face as the waitress set her stack of pancakes and eggs in front of her. She placed her napkin in her lap and held her knife in her right hand and her fork in the other, starting to cut into her fluffy, buttery pancakes. "Right, Brendan?"

It was the second time she had asked him that today. Brendan placed his mug back down on the table and moved his utensils so the waitress could place his food in front of him. "Right," he answered dryly.

Wally gave him a look, a look that said "We better to talk about this later" before turning his attention toward his omelet, poking the middle of it with his fork. Brendan did the same with his food and couldn't help but see a face out of it, a melancholy look that probably matched the expression on his face. He didn't believe May, of course; last night, and the days before that, proved that he was no longer "nothing" to her. But still ... He looked at the window again, his stomach churning with all sorts of emotions that filled him up and made him gag at the sight of food. There was a small part of him that believed her at the same time.