Notice how it's been about 10 months since the last update? Yeah, real life happened. Anyways, MistyMix89 gave me permission to write chapter 3, so here it is. It's just over 12 pages in Word, so hopefully it satisfies you all until we can get chapter 4 up. Until then, enjoy!
Oh, and by the way, see that box way down at the bottom? Yeah, that big one. Use it, please. It'll help us improve things that may need fixing, or if you just want to tell us how good of a job we're doing (if at all).
Chapter Three
We're Going with Plan B! A Frantic Night at Chez Leuphorie
Blue and Stan walked back over to where Yellow and Stacee were standing. Stacee was frowning slightly, while Yellow looked rather annoyed at Blue. Given how badly he – or rather, his Salamence – had messed up the plan, her frustration was rather justified.
"Well, that was a fiasco." Said Blue plainly, ruffling his hair.
"Why, of all Pokemon, did you have to use Salamence?" Stacee asked, giving her friend a neutral-faced stare that worked just as well as a look of disappointment.
Blue shrugged. "I thought it was appropriate for the situation."
"Idiot," muttered Yellow, arms crossed, brown eyes narrowed in contempt at the tall boy.
Sensing Yellow's anger, Stan quickly shifted the conversation, saying, "I'm sure we can think of another plan. I mean, Blue still won, and he has to take Misty out on a date now… is there anything we could do with that?"
Moments passed in silence, the four of them thinking furtively.
"I don't think another jealously ploy is going to work." Stacee said.
"Especially since he…" Yellow glared at Blue again, but the boy had his eyes closed in thought and didn't notice. "Had to go and mess up this one."
"This dinner date's our best chance, then," Stacee continued. "If we can just figure out something that will work…"
Blue opened his eyes and looked around at his friends. "I have something… if you're willing to hear me out." He smirked at Yellow, who stuck out her tongue in response. "Let me dodge out of the date — yes, Yellow, I know I messed up and I shouldn't get off scot-free — but have Misty show up anyways. Meanwhile, we tell Ash to go to the same restaurant, under some false pretense: interview, another date, whatever. We'll bribe the staff to have them sit at the same table."
"And you don't think Misty will have an outburst after what happened?" asked Stacee, eyebrow raised.
"I do, but since we know she's got a soft spot for this lovey-dovey romantic stuff, she should cool down enough for her to enjoy the evening."
More silence as everyone absorbed this. It was a decent plan, except…
"Okay, Misty loves the romance," admitted Stan. "But Ash doesn't."
"He doesn't understand how important it is to her," added Yellow, still glaring at Blue as if to prove a point. He simply blinked at her before turning to the others.
"Maybe he'll understand, in time. Or maybe even after seeing an outburst. As a last resort, though, we should look for a place that serves Blissey eggs for dessert."
"Why's that?" asked Stacee, but it was Stan who answered.
"People who eat Blissey's eggs are filled with a massive amount of happiness and contentment. It'll be a nice little thing to ensure they have an enjoyable evening."
"So we're agreed then?" said Blue, clapping his hands together. "Excellent. Shota-Man," he said, turning to Stan. "If you wouldn't mind doing some research on some establishments in town, that would be great, and the fancier, the better. Stacee, you'll have to think of some way to lure Ash there." The two nodded and went off together, leaving Yellow behind with Blue.
"And if you wouldn't mind," Blue said to her, ignoring her continual fuming gaze. "Come with me, please."
"Why?" She demanded, walking with him as he started moving back towards the pool where Ash and Misty remained.
"Because this may help you feel better." Blue walked up to Misty, smiling. It seemed that, when the mood suited him, he was more than happy in playing along. "Miss Misty, it is an honor to have your acquaintance this evening." Standing behind him, Yellow rolled her eyes.
Misty glanced at Ash (positively livid at Blue by this point, but like Yellow, he was ignored) before saying, "Um… thanks. So, we're going tonight, then?"
"If that suits you," Blue said, still smiling. "I'm having my friends do some research as to where we shall be dining, so I'll let you know once a decision is reached. Until then…" He gestured behind him to Yellow, who straightened up, alert. "I think Yellow will be more than happy to take you shopping, if you acquire some new wardrobe procurements."
No sooner had the words come out of his mouth did Yellow let out a squeal of joy, grab Misty by the hand, and practically sprint her out of the Gym. Blue watched them disappear before turning around to find Ash's steaming face right in front of him.
"I want a rematch," He demanded. Pikachu, perched up on his Trainer's shoulder, let out a sigh, ears dropping.
"Is this because I beat you or because I'm taking Misty out?" Blue asked, doing his best to keep a condescending smirk from unfurling across his lips. He could practically hear the gears chugging along in Ash's head before he answered.
"What does it matter to you? All I know is that you're just some guy who bursts in here, asks questions about my relationship with Misty, and then you start flirting with her!" He paused before adding, "And you beat me in a battle!"
Blue noticed Stan and Stacee out of the corner of his eye, ushering him over. "Y'know, Ash," he said. "There's a bit more to this than you realize. I'm sure if you dusted out your head you'd figure it out." With that, he turned and walked over to his friends, asking in a low voice, "What d'ya got?"
"Reservations for two at Chez Leuphorie, seven o' clock." answered Stan. "It's the newest joint in the city. They specialize in Blissey eggs."
"Great," Blue turned towards Stacee. "And how will we be luring Ashy-boy over?"
Stacee smiled rather deviously, pulling out a PokeGear from her pocket. She ducked out of sight into another room, followed by Blue and Stan. They found Stacee dialing a number, and she put a finger to her lips as she brought the device up to her ear.
"Yes, hello, is this Ash Ketchum of Pallet Town?" She was speaking in a very nasally voice. "Hi, this is Anita Replie for the Kanto Tribune… please, call me Ann… We've heard of your numerous achievements and wish to schedule an interview… You will? Oh, thank you! How does tonight at seven work? …Excellent! Meet me at Chez Leuphorie — you'll recognize it, it has the name in curvy pink neon lights on the front. Oh, and Mister Ketchum? …We'd like to keep this exclusive, so please don't go blabbing to anyone. Thank you so much! Okay, see you then."
She closed her PokeGear with a snap, grinning widely, as Blue and Stan stared with gaping mouths. "I think that deserves an Oscar, if I do say so."
"Sometimes I think you're the scariest one of us," muttered Stan as he and Blue followed her out of the room, Ash's whoops of glee echoing through-out the Gym.
Yellow and Misty returned to the Gym around five in the afternoon. Yellow looked considerably happier after spending a good chunk of the day with her idol, while Misty appeared worn-out and relieved to be back in familiar territory.
Stacee met them in the entrance hall of the building. "So did you two have fun?"
"Oh yes!" said Yellow, showing off the multitude of bags in her arms. Misty was holding a lot less in comparison. Stacee wondered off-hand how much Gym Leaders got paid. "I feel a lot better after getting to spend the day with Misty!" The dark-haired girl beamed at the redhead, who smiled somewhat wearily.
"I'm going to put these away in my room." Misty said, starting to walk off, but Stacee intervened quickly.
"Blue decided on where he'll meet you… at Chez Leuphorie, that new French joint, around seven."
"Okay, thanks." Misty said, nodding. As she walked away Stacee heard her mutter, "That explains the dresses I was told to buy…"
"Where're the boys?" Yellow asked, setting her bags down on the floor.
"Somewhere," Stacee replied with a shrug. "They didn't say where they were gonna be, and I didn't ask. More importantly," She continued, lowering her voice, in case someone came walking by. "I was able to set-up a fake newspaper interview for Ash at the same restaurant. Blue and Stan went over and got the staff to play along. We're all set."
"Almost," corrected Yellow, picking up a small black bag and handing it to Stacee. "Give this to the boys, its Ash's suit."
"Ash's suit?" repeated Stacee, taking the bag but not quite understanding.
"How do you think Misty will react when she sees Ash in a place like that in his usual clothes?"
"I'm more worried about how she'll react to seeing him there at all, but fair point," Stacee conceded, peering into the bag. "I'll go look for the guys now."
"Wait, wait!" Yellow handed over another, larger bag. "Give these to Stan and Blue."
"What for? You're not making them dress up, too?"
"I'm making all of us dress up." Replied Yellow in a this-is-essential-for-any-plan kind of voice. "If we're gonna watch the whole thing, we're gonna have to be in disguise, so Ash and Misty don't recognize us and realize what we're doing."
"Plus I don't think we bothered to pack different outfits." Said Stacee, looking down at her academy uniform. None of the Stalkers had changed, but they also had no idea how long they'd be staying on the Kanto mainland.
"I think half of these bags are spare clothes," said Yellow, peeking inside of each one. "I'll distribute these later, once we get back tonight."
"Works for me. I'm going to go give the guys their new gifts."
Meanwhile, Stan and Blue were attempting to solve a different problem. Their trip to the restaurant also served as a reconnaissance mission. They managed to procure a table by the kitchen, so Ash and Misty's dinner could be easily observed, or at least visually. There was still the issue of audio, and the boys shut themselves in a spare guest bedroom to brainstorm.
"We can't have each of us walking by the table in turn." Stan said, rubbing his baby-face chin. "It'd be too obvious, and rather suspicious."
"How about microphone equipment or something?" suggested Blue, sitting cross-legged on the bed, his baseball cap sitting on the small nightstand nearby. "It'd be rather unobtrusive, if we do it right."
Stan shook his head. "If we put it right over the table, we'd probably pick up more stuff from the other tables. There'd be too much interference."
"What about a small, personal microphone, then? Or maybe dismantle some baby monitors, and stick the audio retriever on Ash's clothes…"
"Maybe… but how would we power it? Baby monitors use giant batteries, don't they?"
"They make batteries that are flat, like coins. If we could get a microphone to stick to one of those, we could just put it on his body somewhere…"
"Just as long as you don't put it on his skin, I'm fine with it." Stacee said, poking her head in; Stan jumped about the foot in the air and Blue toppled over backwards, off the bed and out of sight.
"Dammit, Stacee… you nearly killed us!" yelled Stan, placing a hand on his chest to try and lower his heart rate, as Blue heaved himself off the floor, swearing liberally under his breath.
"Well, you're not getting off that easily," replied Stacee, holding out the bags. "Here — these are Ash's suit, and your costumes, for tonight."
"Our what, now?" asked Blue, taking the bigger bag from her, eyebrow raised as if he had misheard her, and a little wary after having been shocked into a non-consensual backflip, wondering if this was another prank.
"Costumes," repeated Stacee, and she explained Yellow's reasoning for the disguises. "Yellow and I have ours, too, so we're all playing along."
"And do we get bags to hold our candy?"
Stacee simply stared before turning to walk out of the room. "Just make sure all of you are dressed properly before you even think about setting foot in the restaurant."
"Hey, Stacee," said Stan, before the girl could leave. "Get Misty there a little earlier, so she and Ash don't run into each other before they're seated."
"Got it," She said, and the door closed shut behind her. Stan turned to find Blue examining the suit Ash would be wearing. It was nothing special: just slacks, a jacket, and a tie.
"We may have to rethink where to put the microphone," Blue said, looking up from the outfit, frowning slightly. "If we put it under the collar, or behind the tie, I think we're just gonna get a lot of fabric brushing together."
"Let's put it somewhere on the table, then." Stan replied, pulling the costumes out of the big bag and setting the larger of the two on the bed for Blue. "We'll be heading there with enough time to set things up beforehand."
"I'll make a run to pick up the baby monitors and batteries." Blue put the suit on the bed, picked up his hat from the nightstand and placed it on his head. "Anything I can get for you?"
"Get some pipe cleaners. I think I can make something fairly simple to hide the microphone."
"You do make some mean craftwork," said Blue with a grin, recalling a particularly realistic craft Spinarak that had scared the living daylights out of Yellow.
It was now a quarter to seven. The sun dipped towards the horizon, painting the sky with a variety of pinks, purples, oranges, and blues. The streetlamps lining the roads and sidewalks were starting to flicker to life, illuminating the pedestrians still milling about.
The restaurant known as Chez Leuphorie was rather modest, tucked between two other establishments. The real only exterior décor was a neon sign, flashing the name in bright pink. Inside, it was a standard design of an upscale bistro: soft chandelier lighting, deep orange-red wallpaper, the tables covered with white linen tablecloths.
All the wait staff, men and women alike, were adorned with black pants, black vests over white button-down shirts, with a final touch of red bowties. Among the waiters and waitresses were the disguised Stalkers, currently standing in the kitchen, talking over the clangs of pots and shouting chefs.
"Everything's in place," said Blue, turning the volume knob of the receiving baby monitor. "Misty should be here any minute."
"Ash will be here more around seven," added Stan, looking like the waiter costume was tailor-made for him. "And the maître d' will keep him occupied enough so he doesn't see Misty until he's sitting down."
"The pipe cleaner flower was a nice touch," noted Yellow, standing on tiptoe to peer out of the porthole windows of the kitchen doors. "And the microphone's hidden there?"
"Of course," said Stan, beaming.
"Lucky we got some real flowers to hide it with." Stacee twirled a stand of her hair between her fingers as she spoke.
"Wait, she's here!" cried Blue and Yellow at the same time, Blue standing over the monitor, and Yellow peering out the window. Stacee and Stan rushed over to the window, just in time to see the maître d' leading Misty over to the table.
Misty was wearing a simple red dress, nothing too extravagant. The most noticeable change, however, was that her flame-orange hair was not tied up in her usual side ponytail, but instead cascading down to just above her shoulders. A small handbag was clutched in her hands.
"Wow, how'd you convince her to do that?" muttered Stan to Yellow, whose brown eyes were gleaming so bright he half-considered shielding his eyes.
"I guess I can be very persuasive," Yellow replied happily.
"How's the microphone working out?" Stacee asked Blue, who had just come over to steal a peek.
"I'd know more if I could get her to say something." He said, turning aside to let a waiter by. "Although, if this guy's going over there…"
Indeed he was. The waiter stopped at Misty's table, leaning over a little to talk to her easier. "Anything I can get you, mademoiselle?" came the waiter's voice through the baby monitor, albeit electronically filtered.
"Just water for now, thank you." Said Misty's voice, and the Stalkers all grinned in triumph as the waiter slipped back into the kitchen behind them.
"Well, I was bound to have a good idea sooner or later." Blue joked, adjusting the volume slightly so that Misty wouldn't hear herself talking from the kitchen.
"If this dinner works, then maybe we'll share that sentiment." Said Stacee, elbowing her friend lightly in the ribs.
"We're about to find out; Ash is here!" Stan announced, his eyes wide.
Sure enough, the maître d' was leading Ash to the same table as Misty. Due to being engaged in conversation with the headwaiter, Ash didn't notice, but Misty sure did, and her eyes widened in shock. Ash took in the seat opposite her, and once the maître d' walked off, he stared back.
"What are you doing here?!" They cried in unison, causing the other patrons' heads to turn in their direction.
"I'm supposed to be on a date!" hissed Misty before Ash could answer for himself. "What are you doing?"
"I was asked to be interviewed!" replied Ash, a hint of pride in his indignant voice.
Misty scoffed, crossing her arms. "That's a laugh! Who'd want to interview you?"
"Well…" He paused, thinking hard. "Lots of people!"
"Your mother doesn't count," said Misty matter-of-factly, and she smirked as Ash glared at her. "She's only one person anyways."
Ash pouted for a moment, eyes darting around at the other tables. Then a small grin spread across his lips. "Y'know that Blue guy isn't here."
Misty glanced around quickly before replying. "I-it's still early. He should be here soon."
"Well, there aren't any other tables around…"
"Then you'll have to move and do your interview somewhere else, Mister Pokemon Master." Misty said, the last three words carrying a particular mocking tone.
"I just said there aren't any other tables." Ash stared at his friend with a particularly blank face, which for him was saying something.
Misty stared back, unable to understand what he was trying to say: and then it hit her like a Bullet Punch to the face. Were we set up? She thought. It can't just be coincidence we ended up at the same place at the same time… the same day those four people showed up.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the waiter, although it was a different person than the one who brought Misty her drink earlier. The new waiter had disheveled hair, with small white flakes visible on his scalp. His eyes looked hazy and disoriented, and he spoke with a heavy, bored-sounding voice. "So, uh… can I, like… help you?"
There was one thought that flashed through the minds of Ash, Misty, and the Stalkers in complete unison: who the hell hired this idiot?
"Who assigned this pizza delivery reject to their table?" whispered Stacee to her friends.
"No clue," replied Stan in a low voice (or at least as low as his voice could get). "But this doesn't bode well, does it?"
Yellow didn't look as worried as the others. "Misty will put him in his place. If anything," she added hopefully. "Ash will see how passionate she can get."
"I think he knows enough of that by now." Blue said, as Ash and Misty's orders came drifting in through the baby monitor. "Although, does anyone else have the feeling they stepped into a bad fanfic?"
Pizza Reject Waiter drifted into the kitchen with the orders, then shuffled back out to the tables, dragging his feet as he went. Stacee, Yellow, and Stan exchanged glances, unspoken worry drifting between them. Then a loud, rumbling sound shook them out of their reprieve, and they all turned towards where the sound came from: Blue's stomach.
"Dammit," He said, looking down at it with a grimace. "In all this excitement, I skipped lunch…" He stared over at the chefs, bustling around stoves and ovens. "Hold this…" He thrust the baby monitor into Stacee's hands and drifted away, weaving between cooks, and disappeared.
Stacee turned up the volume slightly to hear Misty saying, "…That wasn't 'hamburger supreme', Ash. You ordered a 'Hamburg steak'."
"It's still meat." Said Ash dismissively. "Besides, what did you order? 'Boo-ya-base'?"
"It's bouillabaisse. Seafood bouillabaisse. I haven't had any in a long time..." Misty trailed off, staring at some undefined space, fondly reminiscing.
"Huh…" Ash leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand. "I never figured you'd eat seafood, with being a Water-type Trainer and everything."
"There's more to me than you might think." Misty snapped, turning back to face him. "Besides…" Her eyes narrowed. "If you knew me well enough…"
"I just find it a little weird, that's all…" Ash rubbed the back of his neck, glancing up at the ceiling. "On the plus side, at least I know that you wouldn't mind going to a sushi joint with me or something, ha ha."
The Stalkers were practically frozen at this revelation. Stacee and Stan traded looks of wide-eyed surprise, while Yellow clamped her hands over her mouth to stop herself from screaming in delight.
"Ohmigod, did he really say that?" She whispered, smiling widely.
"This thing isn't defective, is it?" murmured Stacee, holding the baby monitor up to her ear and shaking it, as if she could hear parts rattling around inside.
"The waiter's going back," said Stan, watching as Pizza Reject Waiter passed through the doors, tray in hand. Stacee and Yellow squeezed next to him, the porthole window fogging up with moisture from their breaths.
"Your steak," He said, unceremoniously placing the plate in front of Ash. "And your escargot."
Misty's eye twitched, and she slowly turned her head up to the waiter. A vein was throbbing on her temple, and Ash backed away from the table slightly, as if he could feel the heat radiating off of her. Pizza Reject Guy seemed unfazed.
"I didn't order this." Said Misty, in a voice of very forced calm. "I ordered the bouillabaisse. Not… this."
"It's still shellfish." Said Pizza Reject Waiter, scratching his head. A flurry of dandruff drifted from his hair to the floor.
"Take it back," demanded Misty, now standing, a finger pointed at the plate. "Now."
"I already put it down. Can't take it back." Another scratch, followed by more dandruff. Ash tried to count the flakes before they reached the floor.
Misty smiled a deadly, venom-laced smile. "Is that the restaurant's policy?"
Pizza Reject Waiter shrugged. "My policy."
Stan had to leap aside as Pizza Reject Waiter came toppling into the kitchen, a plate stuck to his face by crushed snail. A few survivors sought refuge in his pockets, leaving behind trails of slime. Yellow shuddered at the sight and turned away.
"What restaurant serves stuff like that?" Misty sat back down in her chair, fuming. She crossed her arms and watched Ash practically inhale a full third of his steak at once. He noticed her staring.
"What?"
"You could offer me some of your food." She said pointedly.
Ash looked down at his plate, as if he expected to see a different entrée sitting there. "But it's my food." He said. "I ordered it."
"It's the gentlemanly thing to do." She bestowed him a fake smile. "Then again, I know you're all too eager to stuff your little face with food."
"I told you before," grumbled Ash, returning to his plate, trying not to look at her. "My face isn't little."
Blue finally returned, although his stomach was still rumbling. He looked severely irritated. "Can you believe this?" He grumbled, standing next to the rest of the Stalkers. "We get in good favor with this place and they won't even let me taste anything unless I'm a paying customer."
"There's some leftover escargot if you're interested." Offered Stacee, motioning to Pizza Reject Waiter, who hadn't moved since his dramatic re-entry into the kitchen.
Blue spared a glance before replying, "I'd rather eat Misty's cooking," which earned him a sharp jab in his side, courtesy of Yellow. "So how's it going?"
Stacee brought him up to speed, handing him back the baby monitor. "Anyways, they're busy eating. Misty finally got what she ordered."
"And the world's destruction is delayed once again." Remarked Blue, as the baby monitor squawked with Ash's voice:
"Hey, Mist: I'll trade you a bite of my steak for a bit of whatever-it-is you have there."
Misty almost dropped her spoon in shock: Ash Ketchum, offering to share his food? What in the world was going on today? She looked up into his eyes and, realizing he was being genuine, relented. "Oh, alright."
She reached for a second spoon, but Ash said, "Do it with what you have, I just want a taste," And held out his fork with a bite of steak speared onto the end.
Yellow almost fell over in the kitchen. "What is he doing?!" She squealed. "Is this an indirect kiss?" Her eyes darted from Stacee, mouth agape, to Stan, who had stumbled backwards as if he had been punched, to Blue, now slumped against the wall on the floor, looking very dazed.
"He probably doesn't know what he's doing…" said Stan slowly, staring out of the porthole window of the kitchen door. "He just wants the food…"
"Ssh!" hissed Stacee. "Look, look, they're —"
Everyone (save for Blue, too hungry to move) crowded around the window, watching with bated breath as Ash and Misty traded bites of their meals with the utensils they had been using. Misty's face was almost as red as her hair, and she sat back in her seat, chewing slowly, watching Ash, who had his eyes closed.
Yellow let out a hushed "yes!", and Stacee and Stan looked at each other in jubilant disbelief. Blue could only muster out a weak "yay", his stomach growling louder than before.
"This is the best thing ever," Yellow said, trying to resist dancing in the middle of the kitchen and knocking over any hapless chefs who would have walked into her.
"Although, as usual, Ash has no clue what he just did." Said Stacee, peering out of the window. "Misty looks a little peeved."
Just after she said that, Ash's voice came in through the baby monitor. "Mist, you alright? You're all red."
"Of course I'm all red, you idiot," Misty had her head down, speaking in a forced, even voice. Her fists were clenched, resting on her knees, and she seemed to be trembling. "How could I not, after what you did?"
Ash blinked. What did he do? He just offered to share his food; isn't that what Misty was upset about earlier? No wonder Brock couldn't get any girls, they were so complicated. "I don't — "
"Of course you don't!" snapped Misty, glaring at him. Her eyes, colored brilliantly clear aquamarine, narrowed at him. She could feel tears welling up but forced them down. "That's what pisses me off the most about you… you don't understand anything other than Pokemon! Would it kill you to show some decency towards others?!" Guess it's harder to cry when you get angry, she thought, still glaring hard at Ash, who was, damn him, staring at her like she had just grown a second head.
Then his expression shifted. "Well, what pisses me off most about you," He said, pointing an accusatory finger at her. "Is how you always — always! — find fault with me!"
Back in the kitchen, Yellow, Stacee, and Stan all simultaneously slapped their hands to their foreheads; Blue's head merely dropped to his chest, only to have it snap back up after the latest rumbling.
"Sorry to ruin your daydream," Misty replied, her blood boiling, rage bubbling up, aching to burst out of her. "But you're not perfect! Far from it!"
"And you are?" Ash demanded, leaning forward. "Well, no wonder you yell at me all the time…"
"I'm hardly perfect! Just look at what I'm doing now! If I was perfect, I wouldn't be yelling at the man I…" She caught herself, suddenly aware of what she was about to say. Her anger was slowly subsiding, eyes widening in shock. Across from her, Ash's face softened, twisting into bewilderment.
"The man you what?" He asked quietly.
"Yes, yes, the man you what?!" demanded Yellow, shaking the door in desperation to hear the answer. Stacee pinned her friend's arms to her sides to prevent their cover from behind blown.
"I didn't say anything," whispered Misty finally, her face a bright red, turning away and becoming very interested in the carpet pattern.
"Yes you did," pressed Ash, leaning in more, eyes alright in curiosity. "What am I? 'The man you…' what? 'The man you' what?"
Suddenly furious again, Misty whipped her head up to face him, glaring so hard it was hard to believe laser beams weren't shooting out. "I said if I was perfect," she shouted, "I wouldn't be yelling at the man I love!"
It was as though time had frozen completely. Everyone in the restaurant, even the near-comatose Blue, was staring at their table. Not a single sound could be heard, as even the chefs had stopped cooking. Ash was utterly dumbfounded, gaping at his friend with his mouth wide open.
Abruptly aware that she was now the center of attention, Misty grabbed her handbag and dashed out. The last sound audible from her through the baby monitor was a something between a gasp and a sob. All eyes shifted to Ash, who was mouthing what he had heard. With a jolt, he stood up and rushed after her, almost stumbling over the table. "Misty, wait…!"
As the chatter of conversation and clatter of silverware began anew, the Stalkers all exchanged worried looks. Yellow seemed absolutely devastated, brown eyes welling up with tears. Stacee ran her fingers through her hair, looking rather pale. Stan, already pale to begin with, was beside himself and turned to face the wall. Blue, still slumped on the floor in hunger, heaved a heavy sigh.
"Well," he said finally, voice hoarse, "guess I won't be allowed to participate anymore, huh?"
To be continued...