Chapter 1

The air started turning colder in Pewter City, and each morning Misty found that getting Fiona to school was becoming easier and easier by the day. Fiona didn't cry as much, or ask to her stay around the classroom as long. This morning, Fiona didn't even have her mother walk her to class. Misty had returned home after dropping Fiona off at school. The house was empty, and a mess. Dusting, and dishes needed to be done, along with laundry and vaccuming.

By noon, the late September air seemed to warm up a bit. She was busy putting clean bed sheets on the bed when she heard the front door open. She walked half way down the balcony stairs and saw Brock had walked through the door, flipping his keys around on his finger absently as he looked down at the newspaper.

"Brock, you're home early!" She said, smiling. Their Eevee, who was just a pup, came out of Fiona's room where she had been sleeping since Fiona went to school that morning.

"Yea, not many matches scheduled for the next few hours," his eyes traveled from her pretty face to her long legs, that she was showing off in a pair of jogging shorts. "I figured I could come home and kill some time here."

He kissed her, nudging her up the stairs to their bedroom and pushing her back onto the bed.

"I just washed the sheets," Misty said, not really wanting to mess them up, as Brock unbuckled his jeans, letting them hit in the floor with a loud clank. Then she him standing there in nothing but a pair of boxers, and she didn't care how the bed looked.

"Good. Sex is always better on clean sheets," he kissed her softly, stripping off her shorts and panties in one swift motion, and lifting her top up to kiss her naval and let his tongue taste her sweet skin there.

She giggled and looked down at him. "That tickles!"

He chuckled, giving her a handsome grin as he looked up at her. "I know another place I can tickle you at."

She closed her eyes, and threw her head back as she felt his soft, skilled tongue taste her. He kissed her there, sensually and smiled at the way she moaned and squirmed beneath him.

"You can be as loud as you want," he reminded her, loving the way she was begging him to take her.

She felt him thrust deep inside her, and she pulled him down , kissing him, enjoying the feeling of his weight on top of her, and the slightly painful pleasure. He lifted himself up, grinning down at her, he placed both of her ankles on his shoulders and thrust himself as hard as he could inside of her.

"God, I fucking love you," he whispered, kissing her smooth legs, the sounds she was making were driving him closer and closer to the edge.

Then a voice came from the doorway of the bedroom.

"Don't you know that's how you got pregnant in first place, Misty?"

Brock almost didn't notice it at first, but nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw a woman standing near the door. She was red-headed, older, and wore a fitting black dress with white buttons that served to purpose other than looks down the middle.

Misty's haze-filled mind took a moment to register, and she shreiked, grasping for the quilt that was abandoned on the floor to cover herself up with. Brock fumbled around for something, anything, to cover himself up with. He held his shirt over his erection -or what was left of it- and looked at the woman standing in his doorway.

"W-who are you?" He asked, then looked at Misty who was staring at the woman, a look of shock on her face.

"It's my mother..." she said, clutching the quilt tighter to her chest.

"You really should learn to lock your doors. Anyone could just walk into this beautiful home and steal something..." She grinned, and put her sunglasses up on her head. "Or catch you having very hot sex."

Brock reached down and picked up his pants, careful not to turn around and let his wife's mother -who he had never met- get a glance at his ass.

"Mom, what are you doing here?" Misty asked, trying to wash away the embarassment she felt.

"I was in town, and Violet told me you lived here, which I figured since I heard you married Flint Harrison's son," she smiled at him and offered her hand. "I'm Rose Vaughn."

Brock shook her hand with his free hand, realizing her was still standing in front of her completely naked, except for the balled up tshirt around his junk.

"I have to say, Misty," Rose said, sitting down in the chair in front of Misty's vanity, checking her reflection. Beautiful as ever. "I didn't really know what you would see in any guy from Pewter City, but you got yourself a real hottie, here."

"Mom, can...can we at least get dressed?" She asked, and Rose stood up, blushing a bit.

"Oh of course. I'll just go downstairs and put on a pot of coffee," she waved at them and left the room and Misty looked over at Brock, who let the shirt fall away. He fell onto the bed next to her and sighed.

"Oh my God, this is embarassing," Brock said, and Misty leaned over.

"It's not that bad, really...she's seen my sister's doing worse," she said, and Brock looked at her, through tired eyes.

"I've never met this woman before. She didn't even know what I looked like, and the first time she sees me, I'm fucking the hell out of her daughter. I probably looked like the horny midget from Austin Powers!" He chuckled. "She probably hates me."

"She's not like other moms..." Misty said, wincing uncomfortably. "She's very open about sex and stuff like that. She thinks there is something wrong with couples who don't have sex reguarly. And you don't look anything like that midget."

As they finished getting dressed, a voice called from the bottom of the staircase. "Oh, when you two are done having sex, can you please fix up the guest bedroom for me? I do want to get a shower and perhaps read a bit before dinner."

"Guest bedroom?" Brock buckled his belt.

"Oh God, she's staying here?" Misty buried her face in her hands and Brock looked down.

"Well, I'm going to have blue balls for a week..." he sighed, and exited the room, smiling down at Rose. "Of course." He called down to her in a louder voice than what he was using to speak to his wife. He then turned to face Misty and pulled her aside into the guest bedroom.

"We'll just kick her out tomorrow, and tell her she can't stay here," Misty said, pulling blankets from the closet.

"Misty, you haven't seen your mother in forever..." Brock told her, as if she needed a reminder. "Don't you want her to stay?"

"Not really," he voice was barely over a whisper. "I haven't seen her since I was 16. I'm 23 years old. She hasn't spoken to me in 9 years and then she just shows up...in my bedroom...while I'm screwing my husband? That doesn't even make sense."

Brock sighed, and fluffed up the pillows on the bed.

"I should have locked the door," he smoothed out the sheets on the bed. "Alright, we'll tell her she has to get a hotel tomorrow, but she's here right now, so let's try to be polite."

Misty glared at him, annoyed. "You are so much of a better person than I am."

He wrapped his arm around her waist and led her into the hallway. "That's why we make such a perfect team. A perfect balance."

Rose rounded the corner from the kitchen, with a can of Cerulean Coffee in her hands. "Oh, I didn't know people in Pewter City drank our world famous coffee! It's absolutely exquisite isn't it?"

"It's my favorite!" Brock announced, pleased to see the coffee pot was almost done brewing. "You want a cup, honey?"

"I can't," she said, checking the clock. "I have to go pick up Fiona. It's already past 2:30, and she cries if I'm even a moment late."

"Well," Brock looked at Misty and then back at her mother. "I can go get her. I mean, if you want to stay here and spend some time with your mother. I have to be back at the gym at 4 o'clock anyway."

Misty glared at him again. No, she had wanted to leave, but what was she supposed to do now? Brock poured himself some coffee in a thermos and grabbed his jacket, kissing Misty goodbye, he waved at Rose and rushed out the door. He wanted to make it there early so Fiona wouldn't cry, thinking they had forgotten about her.

Misty heard his truck pull out and then he was gone, and she was alone, with her mother. She decided to have a cup of coffee, though she was pretty sure she needed something other than coffee to get through this awkward conversation she knew she was about to have with her mother.

"So," Rose said, warming her hands on the coffee mug. "Do you and Brock typically have sexy afternoons like this?"

"Mom," Misty rolled her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see you," Rose said, smiling at her, tossing her long red hair, much like Misty's behind her shoulder.

"Mom, you haven't seen me in 9 years," Misty said, and Rose looked down at her coffee, straight black and bold. She knew this was coming, and she knew it had been long overdue. "I was 16 when you last saw me, and even then you were only there to see Violet, Daisy and Lilly. You barely even spoke to me."

"Darling, I was a different person back then," Rose said, softly, seeing the anger welling up in her daughter like this.

"You didn't even bother to talk to me. Or even try. You didn't ask me who I had a crush on. What I liked. What my hobbies were. Things that mothers are supposed to ask their daughters...you didn't ask anything about me. It wasn't like I never existed!" Misty clenched her fists, and tears threatened to sting her eyes.

"Misty, I am so sorry," Rose reached out to touch her cheek, but Misty recoiled, almost in disgust.

"I don't know," she said, looking at her from across her kicthen. "I really don't know you. You're just the lady who gave birth to me, but you aren't really my mother."

Rose watched her, waiting for her to continue. She knew Misty needed to get things off of her chest.

"You didn't come to my wedding when I married Brock in Porta Vista," she said. "And I know, -I know- Violet or someone told you about it. Brock almost got killed by some crazy bitch who was obsessed with him. Did you hear about that one?"

"I couldn't make it to your wedding, Sweety," Rose said, shaking her head. "And I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Misty. I really am. I want to make it up to you."

"What about when I was pregnant?" Misty placed her hands on her hips. "Brock's mother threw me a baby shower, and talked to me when I was scared. And she came to the hospital with me. And she helped me take care of Fiona when she was sick, and she told me how to check the temparature of her bottle, and how to bathe her...and..." she trailed off as tears stramed down her face.

"Misty...I..."

"All the things that you were supposed to do for me!" Misty cut her off, wiping the tears from her face. "And now, you just show up and expect to let you stay here?"

"Misty," Rose got up from her seat the kitchen island, placing her coffee cup aside. "I'm sorry for everything that I did, or didn't do. I've made mistakes, honey. I have not been the best mother to you, or any of you girls, really."

She grabbed her daughter's hands and Misty had let her. No matter how much she hated her mother, she still had this need to have a relationship with her.

"Where were you, Mom?" Misty asked, her eyes fixed on her mother's face. She was still youthful in a lot of ways, but she could tell she had still aged a lot in last 9 years.

"I have nowhere else to go," Rose said, this time, tears were welling up in her eyes. "I couldn't make it to your wedding, because I was in a hospital..."

"A hospital?" Misty asked.

Rose nodded. "Rehab. I was in rehab," she saw the look of shock on Misty's face.

"For...for what?" She asked, taking a seat at the kitchen island.

"I met a man when I was traveling the world," she smiled a little, and wiped away a tear from her eyes. "I was in love, but he had a problem. A drug problem. One night, I got really drunk, and I tried it, and after that I was hooked."

"What...drug was it?" Misty hesitated on the question.

"Cocaine," Rose answered, hiding her shameful face behind the coffee mug, but then she looked at her daughter straight in eyes. "I was addicted to cocaine."

Misty shook her head. "Mom, why didn't you tell me? Do the others know about this? Have you told any of my sisters?"

Rose nodded her head, shamefully. "Violet is the one who got me put into rehab. Charley was abusing me -he was the man who got me hooked, the man I loved- anyway, Violet found out about it and got me into rehab so I wouldn't die."

"H-how long were you in there?" Misty asked, noticing the age on her mother's pretty face.

"6 years," her mother replied. "I was released 6 months ago, but with Daisy being pregnant now, and Violet running the gym...Lilly's got the baby now...I just...I had nowhere to go. Misty, you're the only daughter left that has a place where I can stay."

"Mom, I have a 4 year old daughter," she said. "I can't..."

"You can trust me, sweetheart," Rose grabbed her wrist and smiled. "I'm done with drugs. I swear. I don't even drink anymore. I won't hurt your baby. Don't be like Lilly and think I'll bring drugs around your baby."

"I-I have to talk to Brock about this," she said. "Before I can let you stay here. We have to make this decision together."

"I understand," Rose finished off her coffee. "It's your home, together. And you have a precious baby to protect. Can I atleast get a shower and something to eat?"

Misty nodded silently and her mother smiled, in her elegant way. She always had a way to maintain her dignity about her, no matter what was going on her life. She supposed that's why she had went through so many men in her life. She had an elegant charm about her, like an old hollywood starlet, or a New York Socialite. And she was pretty, and she knew it.

Still, Misty was't sure how felt about her mother staying there with them. After all, she hardly knew the woman.

...

Fiona looked at the clock, nervously. The little hand was already on the three, and it had taken forever to get there, but it finally did, and her eyes scanned the room for her mother. Other children had gotten a big yellow bus to go home, and still other children were being picked up by their parents, but where were hers at?

They had gathered the children in the gymnasium, where Fiona had class just a short hour ago, and parents were lined up, single file by the door, picking up their children, one by one. The loud echoes in the gym, of the other kids playing as they waited, made her more nervous. She sat by the wall, her legs hugged to her chest.

Brock waited in line in the hallway, trying to look over people's shoulders to see if he could see his daughter, or more importantly, so she could see him and not flip out like Misty said she had been doing. She seemed to be having separation anxiety, which concerned him, but he was told it was perfectly normal in happy children.

A little girl came and sat next to Fiona.

"Hey, are you OK?" She asked. She was wearing purple overalls, with matching barettes in her hair. Fiona's dark hair was in pigtails, with pink barettes and a pink outfit.

"My mommy isn't here yet," Fiona said, her eyes glancing up at the clock. The big hand was past the five now, and she felt panicked.

"Don't worry. My mommy can take you home if yours forgot about you," The little girl said. "My name's Holly. What's yours?"

"Fiona," she replied, smiling a little, despite the feeling of pure terror that had overcome her. "Do you think she really forgot about me?"

Another kid ran up to his father, and after each of her peers went home, she watched.

"No," Holly said, shaking her head. "My mom never forgets about me. She's our teacher."

"What?"

"Yea," Holly shook her head. "I usually stay around and play in the gym until everyone else goes home, and then my mom takes me home. She wouldn't let us spend the night in here or anything."

Spending the night here terrified Fiona beyond anything she had ever felt before. Just then, when she thought he terror could grow no more, she saw her father and leapt up. He was second in line, and she just came into view. She ran to him and hugged him tight, and he smiled, lifting her up in his arms.

"Daddy!"

Mrs. Castillo smiled at him. "Can I see an ID please?"

Brock looked at her blankly for a moment, and then reached for his wallet with his free hand, supporting Fiona's weight with his other arm.

"Handsome," she said, holding out the clipboard. Brock chuckled and signed his name on the clip board. "Fiona is an absolute angel, Mr. Harrison."

"I wish she was the same way at home," he said, laughing. "Thank you."

He turned away from her, but Fiona wiggled, struggling to get down. "Daddy, wait I have to say goodbye to Holly."

"OK," He said, putting her down and following her into the gym. "Who is Holly?"

Fiona ran over to the little girl who now sat alone, and Brock waited by the wall. Mrs. Castillo smiled over at him again, a blush on her cheeks.

"Seems like Fiona and my daughter are friends," she giggled.

"That's your daughter?" Brock asked. "You're Mrs. Castillo...Fiona's teacher, right?"

She nodded. "Please, call me Eve. That's Holly. My daughter."

"You're very lucky to get to spend all day long with your kid," Brock said, as he waited for Fiona to say her goodbyes. "My wife is having a hard time adjusting being away from Fiona. They both seem to be suffering some separation anxiety."

Eve Castillo nodded. "I see that a lot. Sometimes the parents have a harder time adjusting to preschool than the kids do, but they get used to it. When they go to grade school, it should be completely gone by then."

Her eyes lingered on Brock for a moment, and then she felt something, or someone run into her.

"Mommy, can I go over to Fiona's house and get in their pool?" Holly asked, and Fiona eagerly begged Brock.

"Not today, Holly," Eve said, signing out the last of the students. "We have a lot to do today."

"Today's not good for us, either, Fiona," Brock said, apologetically. "But...maybe this weekend. We usually hang out in the pool on the weekends anyway. And don't worry about anything, both Misty and I can swim, so everyone is safe."

Eve sighed. "Alright. Maybe Saturday afternoon, but only if you are good, Holly."

"Same goes for you too, Young Lady," Brock looked down at Fiona. "Thanks Eve. I'll see you around."

I will definitely be seeing you again, Eve thought to herself as she watched Brock exit the building with his daughter.