The Boat That Rocket (Rocketshipping Fanfic)
Part 9
James went over to the woman and leant against the wall beside her. Her Pokémon's eyes glinted as it raised its head to look at him.
"I see you've brought your Arbok along with you again." James said, raising an eyebrow at the Pokémon which continued to stare at him.
"It seems to like you," the woman said, a hint of a smirk on her lips. "And I see you've brought…" she looked around as if searching for something. "No one. Again."
"I don't think I need my Pokémon to help pick up a payment."
She turned back to him. "Do you even have any Pokémon?"
James tensed at the question. To not have any Pokémon in this game was dangerous – risky and stupid. He touched the lone Pokéball in his coat pocket.
Seeing the movement, the woman made a noise in her throat and looked away. "Alphonse is pleased with your work again." She spoke monotonously, as if the words were rehearsed. Well, she does say it every single time
James started rolling the Pokéball around in his pocket, gazing out across the dark warehouse. He waited.
The woman reached downwards and took something from the Arbok that was curled around her feet. As usual, she had given the Pokémon the envelope to hold. She passed it to James and he took the envelope, opening it up to reveal a large amount of notes.
"This is more than I asked for."
"Alphonse wants to pay in advance for your next job."
He shook his head, passing the envelope back to her but she ignored it. "I don't take payment in advance. I've said this before." She continued to ignore the money. "Take it back and tell Alphonse to send the details like normal."
"'fraid I can't do that," she raised a finger. "You see, Alphonse has taken a liking to you."
James ground his teeth. This is bad. "And what does that mean?" But he knew, he knew exactly what it meant and he knew what she was going to say next.
"He wants you to leave your way of…isolation and join us. Become one of us, sort of thing."
"I'm not joining Alphonse." He said, his words firm and cold.
The woman remained silent, her brow furrowing. James sighed, and took out the correct amount of money he had asked for out of the envelope, dropping the rest on the floor.
"Thank you," he called over his shoulder as he walked away. "Tell Alphonse his service is always welcome."
As he reached the warehouse door he heard running footsteps behind him, a hand grabbing hold of his wrist and pulling him back.
"James."
Her voice was low, gentle and he turned to face her. Her expression surprised him and he automatically reached out to touch the hand on his wrist with his own.
"Jaime, what's wrong?"
She bowed her head, attempting to hide the tears that were welling up in her eyes. "I'm sorry, but…you don't have a choice."
"I make my own choices."
She bit her lip and looked up at him. "Alphonse wants you to join us," she spoke quietly. "You wouldn't be doing anything different – the jobs would be the same."
"I'd only do jobs for him though?" he mumbled. Why is she fighting back tears? Why is she looking at me with that expression? It looks more like her life is on the line, not mine.
"If I say no, what happens?"He thought he knew the answer – that Alphonse was threatening her, that death would be her punishment for failure - but her next words surprised him.
"He'll kill you," she whispered, bowing her head again.
James raised a hand to his forehead, rubbing his temple where an ache had started to form. "And how is that supposed to force my hand?"
Jaime seemed shocked by the question, a flicker of despair appearing on her face. "You would let him kill you? For your isolation, or your fake freedom?" Fake freedom? That's a strange way to put it. This is my freedom - it isn't fake.
Staring at his face, she tightening her grip on his wrist. "Please."
The word, the way she said it, stirred an emotion in his chest, something that felt nostalgic and it made him uneasy. "Please." She repeated, a whisper of desperation in her voice.
"Why do you care if I die or not?"
She suddenly released his wrist and retreated a step. He frowned. "Why is it always you that brings payment? What happened to Luca? Or Henrik?"
"I-I…" she stuttered, stopped and took a deep breath. "I asked."
What? She asked? What does that mean?
James decided he didn't want to hear an answer and turned away. "Tell Alphonse that if he wants me to be 'exclusive' – to do only do his jobs – he better be prepared to pay higher."
As he reached the warehouse door, he heard Jaime's shoes scrap across the floor as she spun around, his words finally clearing in her head. "You'll do it?!"
He paused at the threshold. If I do this, there's no going back…
"But I still won't accept payment in advance." And then he left, knowing that he had entered the part of the darkness that he had tried to keep a distance from and that there was no escape. Not anymore.
-#-
James was asleep on the old sofa when the knock on the door woke him up, the sound resonating in the sparse apartment. He stood up, walking to the door and put an ear to it. "Yes?"
"Alphonse has a job for you." The voice that came from the other side of the door surprised him and he didn't hesitate to unlock and open it.
Jaime looked up at him, her Arbok beside her, an A4 envelope tucked her arm. "Good morning, James."
He stared at her, stunned. It was normally a different one of Alphonse's men that came to give him job details each time and it was never someone he had seen before or would see again.
"Shocked by my beauty so early in the morning, Jimmy boy?"
Jimmy boy?! For some reason the name sent a bolt of electricity through him and he went back into his apartment, leaving the door open for her. He stood in the centre of the room, the back of his legs pressing against the coffee table. He swallowed, trying to get rid of the uneasiness that was rising in his chest.
Jaime and her Arbok followed him in, the door swinging shut behind them. She threw herself on the sofa, ignoring the protests of the old springs as she made herself comfortable. Her Arbok remained by the door, its eyes watching him, a trace of recognition in its gaze. That didn't help his uneasiness and he looked away from the Pokémon.
"So?" he asked, hoping to prompt an explanation.
Jaime waved the large envelope at him. "It's for tomorrow, at the Voltorb Club. Same idea as before – just keep an eye on everything to see if there's any bugs hanging around."
The muscles in his jaw tensed. "I didn't mean that."
Her blue eyes looked up at him and she sighed, lifting an arm to rest on the back of the sofa. "I'll be the one you gives you the job details and payments now."
"Only you?"
A flash of irritation passed across her face. "Yes. Alphonse decided to keep a secure connection to you. He likes you and he trusts both of us."
"He trusts you, huh?" he murmured.
"Yeah, something wrong with that?"
"What if I don't trust you?"
Jaime didn't reply. She looked hurt and James sat beside her.
"I do trust you," he said quietly. "Okay?"
She surpassed his expectations again by moving closer, resting her head on his shoulder. W-what's going on?
He kept his face emotionless but couldn't stop his entire body tensing, his attention focused on the warmth he could feel through his shirt.
"I asked Alphonse, so I could be the one to pass your payment on," her voice was soft and he could feel her mouth move against his shoulder. "He trusted me to tell you about his 'proposal'. He trusts me to be the connection between him and you."
"And why's that?" He breathed.
She was silent for a moment, as if she was hesitating, unsure whether to speak or not. "Because he knows…He knows how I feel about you."
How she feels? What does…?
James shifted so he could look at her. "And how do you feel?"
Her eyes held so many secrets, they had so witnessed so much darkness and hid so much pain, yet they remained clear as they gazed back at him. "I love you, James."
The feelings that had been forming in his heart, the confusion and uneasiness that had grown in his chest with their every meeting over the last three months since he had first met Jaime, suddenly rose into his throat.
He leaned in closer to her until he could feel her breath on his lips. "You love me?" he whispered.
She placed a hand on his forearm and moved her head in a small nod.
What is this – this happiness? I haven't felt this complete since I woke up from my coma. I found something, someone, that wants me and who will wait for me, not for someone else, someone who doesn't exist.
James closed the gap between them, touching his lips to hers. She returned the kiss, pressing back against him, her other hand moving to his chest.
I've become someone. I've found somewhere to belong.
-#-
Jessie blinked awake, groaning as she pulled herself out of bed, wiping the sleep from her eyes. She stood beside the bed, pulling at the hem of her nightshirt. She wrinkled her nose. I reek of alcohol.
She left her room, stumbling slightly into the kitchen. Looks like a bomb hit it in here. The bottles they had taken from the bar were in the sink, empty glasses on the counter, surrounded by half-eaten food.
"One helluva night, weren't it?" a voice slurred behind her.
Jessie turned around to see Dia leaning on the door frame, her face pale and her eyes barely open. She was wearing one of Jessie's nightshirts over the top of her blouse, as apparently she had been too drunk to care about removing it last night.
Jessie raised an eyebrow at the dishevelled state of the woman, smiling at the bird's nest on top of her head. "Nice bed hair."
Dia waved a hand at her, walking towards the sink to drink from the tap, swaying as she did so.
"Use a glass…" But Dia ignored her, water running down her chin, dripping onto her clothes.
She shook her head, sitting on top of the kitchen table. Her head was spinning and she felt slightly sick but she felt better than she had in a long time. She looked up the ceiling. "Thanks, Dia."
The blonde woman wiped the water from her mouth, shutting off the tap, and turned to her. "What are friends for?" she stretched her arms in front of her, muscles clicking as she rolled her shoulders. "Don't think I've drunk or eaten as much in a long time."
"Well, we did take a whole crate full of drinks…" Jessie remembered struggling up the stairs to her apartment with the crate that Steve had pushed into her hands before they left the bar. "I'll have to pay you guys back."
"No, no," Dia stood in front of her, hands on her hips. "It was a party, yeah? You don't have to pay anything."
Jessie hesitated but then nodded. Dia grinned, her white teeth almost matching the paleness of her face. "You feel better now, yeah?"
"Yeah…" she glanced at James' bedroom door, knowing that Meowth would be curled fast asleep on his pillow as usual. "I'm still going to wait for him. I can't just let him go, not like that."
Dia placed a comforting hand on Jessie's arm. "But you're okay now?"
She smiled at her friend. "Yeah, I am."
Dia nodded and then stumbled towards the bathroom, waving her hand in the air as she swore to never drink again.
I'll always be here. I'll always wait for you, James.
"This is your home…" she mumbled under her breath, closing her eyes as a wave of nausea hit her. You belong here.