So this story takes place between chapters 17 and 18 of Pokémon: Legacy, following up on that brief interaction between Donovan and Mary-Sue in Cerulean City. I debated long and hard about making it a chapter for that fic, but ultimately, I decided that it has nothing to do with that story, really, and is only a conclusion to Donovan Star's story - not to mention, it doesn't fit the tone of Masie's story at all - so I'm posting it as its own little oneshot instead.

Jessie sat on her bed late at night, a thick photo album cradled in her lap. Having the apartment to herself (aside from Meowth) had left her too much time and space to think, and even though she needed to prepare a brand new performance for her upcoming showcase in Kalos, one thing had kept her distracted.

A message, from someone from her past, delivered by her daughter:

"Remember Ballonlea."

Sighing, she opened the photo album to the very front page. The first pictures of her and James's life that they'd preserved for reflection had been of their wedding, and she smiled at the pictures of the two of them: her in a sharp, smart tuxedo, him in the frilliest, sparkliest wedding dress they'd been able to afford. Even after Jessebelle had agreed to let him go, the only way James had been able to stomach having a wedding was if he got to be the bride, and while Jessie had always dreamed of being the blushing bride in a gorgeous gown, somehow, going as the groom had turned out to feel right when the time came.

But…there was another, older picture, one they'd had to hide from their daughter, that Jessie still couldn't bring herself to part with. Chewing her lip, she carefully pulled at the faux-leather binding stitched over the front and back of the cover flap, revealing a slit and reaching into it to coax out that one secret, precious photograph.

Seeing it again sent a wave of emotion crashing through Jessie's chest. It was a picture of her, standing arm-in-arm with Rose and the petite brunette's new wife, Reggie, at their wedding, a wedding Jessie had gone to uninvited so as to give her friend the best possible wedding present a former victim of Starstruck Academy could get: news of Donovan's ultimate fate.

"Remember Ballonlea."

Oh, she remembered. She remembered how Donovan Star had spent every last penny he'd had to his name making the evidence against him disappear before disappearing himself, how James had had to work long and hard to track down any trace of the jerk. She remembered how they'd had to bank on a hunch based on some scarce evidence that someone had built something deep in Ballonlea Forest, hoping that it would turn out to be Donovan's hiding place. She remembered the little cottage in a small clearing in the foggy woods, taken care of by a few wild Indeedee who'd happily taken on caretaker roles for the once-wealthy man who hoped no one would ever find him. And she definitely remembered descending on the place from their balloon, and the look on Donovan's face when he'd realized that he hadn't managed to escape her wrath.

And still to this day, she remembered how, even as she'd pinned him down and started tying him up, he'd asked her to tell him something. How, when she'd refused, he'd begged her to come and find him whenever she might feel willing to answer his question, and promised that he would wait for as long as she needed.

Gazing at the photo that would look completely innocuous and innocent to anyone who didn't know the history behind it, the smiling faces of her friend and her friend's wife as they hugged Jessie, smooshing her between them so they could all three cram into the picture as they celebrated the news that Donovan was going to spend the rest of his life in a torture prison similar to the one he'd tried to trap numerous innocent girls in, Jessie wondered…why couldn't that have been the end of it? This picture should have been of the final triumph of Donovan Star's victims.

But somehow, he'd managed to reappear, to send Jessie a message via her own daughter, just to tell her…what? That he was still waiting to ask her something, all these years later?

"Remember Ballonlea."

It was hard to derive any other meaning from that message. He still wanted to ask her something, something so important that he would risk her fury and speak to her daughter just to remind her that he was waiting to ask it.

He didn't deserve her time. Whatever it was he wanted closure on, he didn't deserve it, Jessie knew that. But just the fact that he would dare say a word to her baby girl riled her, made her want to punish him again, make him pay.

And…maybe she was curious about what this question he was so desperate to ask her could possibly be.

With a sigh, she tucked the precious picture back into its hidden compartment and set the photo album aside on her bed. She glared at the floor for a long, heavy minute, then stood up and turned to grab Corviknight's Pokéball before purposefully walking out of her apartment building.

"Come out, Corviknight," she said once she was outside, though she couldn't muster the commanding tone she normally used when calling on her Pokémon; she tapped the button, and the massive bird materialized before her, crowing proudly.

It was late, and even in the city, there weren't many people out and about; still, Jessie hushed her partner, not wanting to draw too much attention.

"Corviknight," she murmured, "do you remember how we met?"

"Cor?" The flying-steel type blinked at her, but nodded. "Corvi."

"It seems we have one last meeting to have with…him," Jessie told it. "You'd think giving him to that hag would've been the end of it, but apparently not."

"Corvi!" Corviknight exclaimed, spreading its wings in alarm. "Corvi cor!"

Hurriedly, Jessie shushed it. "No need to wake the whole neighborhood," Jessie chided.

"…Coooor…"

"I just need you to bring me to that wretched mansion," she explained. "I'll handle the rest. He can't hurt me anymore, you don't need to worry."

"Corvi…" Corviknight cocked its head, then bowed it once before taking flight. Jessie lifted her arms, and her partner's talons closed carefully around them, lifting her into the air.

The cold night air above the city whipping Jessie's face was equal parts bracing and nostalgic; it tasted like freedom, like the days when she answered to nothing and no one. True, she still didn't answer directly to anyone - less so, even, now that she was actually her own boss - but there were certain expectations she had to conform to now that she was a law-abiding, productive member of society.

Not tonight. Tonight, I'm going to let loose, one last time.

James's childhood home wasn't far from Celadon City, ironically - it was a little west of Cerulean, so only a bit of a distance northeast of where the Joneses had settled. In what felt like no time at all, the expansive mansion was in sight, a few lights still glowing in windows that were dwarfed by the façade. Around the back was a garden, closed in by a high stone wall.

"The garden, Corviknight," Jessie said to her Pokémon. "Drop me off on the far side and perch on the wall right above me, then shout. I'm sure he'll get the message."

"Corvi cor!" the massive bird confirmed, and they descended. Jessie landed lightly just inside the stone enclosure, and Corviknight perched exactly as it had been told to do.

"COOOOOOORVIKNIIIIIIIIGHT!" it crowed loudly.

A shrill voice emanated from the mansion, audible even though the fancy stone walls of the building, though not enough so for Jessie to make out what was being said. Tapping her foot, she waited, and sure enough, after a few minutes, a door into the garden opened, golden light spilling out onto the carefully-tended plants.

"I'll take care of it, don't worry," a man told the inside of the house as he emerged. "Yes, yes, I promise, I won't be long…yes, of course."

That voice. A chill ran up Jessie's spine at the sound of that voice, and she immediately scowled at herself. After destroying him completely, moving on, and building a life all her own, after all these years, he would not still have a hold on her. Setting her teeth with determination, she waited for him to reach her.

Donovan Star, much to Jessie's disgust, had aged gracefully - even in the moonlight, it was plain to see that his features were as striking as ever, his curls of black hair perfectly coiffed and his lavish outfit free of even the tiniest wrinkle. But…he carried himself differently now, she noted with satisfaction: where once he'd been proud, bold, dominating in his posture, now he slunk forward with bowed shoulders, chin down, and there was a weariness in his eyes that made him seem far older than he was.

Though still handsome, he was now, clearly, a broken man.

"Jessica?" he whispered. "Is that you?"

"Donovan," Jessie said curtly.

He gasped softly and took a step closer. "I've waited so long," he said. "You…received my message?"

"You mean the one you told my daughter to give me?" Jessie asked hotly. "Oh yes, I heard."

"Your daughter is quite a vibrant spirit," he remarked. "She takes after you."

"Say one more word about my daughter and I'm leaving," Jessie snarled. "You have a lot of nerve even looking at her."

"I'm sorry." The words came so quickly, so easily, from lips that had once demanded perfection and pleas from his captives without remorse or mercy, and that soothed Jessie's anger slightly. "I just…I need to ask you something, and I was worried you'd forgotten. Please."

"Ask this question already," Jessie huffed, waving a hand. "If you're really that serious about it, you might as well."

"Please, Jessica," he pleaded softly, "please, just tell me: What became of my darling Serperior?"

Jessie blinked; whatever she'd been expecting, this wasn't it.

"I must know," Donovan pressed. "Please, I beg of you, tell me what became of it."

"Begging, are you?" Jessie smirked. "I think I like it when you beg, Donovan. Do it again."

The man who had once made that very demand of her didn't hesitate; he dropped to his hands and knees, head bowed so that his hair fell to hide his face. "Please, I beg you, Jessica," he rasped. "Please tell me my Serperior's fate. Please."

"Hmm…" Jessie tilted her head. It had been up to Giovanni what to do with the Serperior she and James had sent him, it wasn't as though she'd kept tabs on it. "I don't know for sure," she told him, and Donovan's breath caught in what sounded like pain. "I gave it to our Boss to do with as he pleased, after all. But…" She thought hard for a minute. There had been some mention of it, hadn't there? "I think…I seem to recall some mention of it being assigned to a squad of Team Rocket dedicated to terrorism, keeping our marks in line, and that it was doing an exceptional job at it."

"Thank you," Donovan gasped, rising to his feet; in the moonlight, his eyes shone with emotion Jessie hadn't thought him capable of. "Thank you, Jessica. That brings me peace, to know it's living its best life."

"As if I care for your peace," Jessie scoffed. But she hesitated, then asked, "You…really cared about that Serperior this much?"

"But of course," Donovan answered. "That Serperior was my life partner, my other half; without it, I might never have discovered who I was."

"And what a tragedy that would have been," Jessie sneered.

"It was part of me," Donovan went on, pressing a hand to his chest. "Not a day goes by when I don't miss it. But if it is able to terrorize people on a regular basis, then…I am glad for that much."

"Disgusting pig," Jessie grunted.

To her surprise, though, Donovan smiled at that. "Oh, Jessica," he crooned, and she fought back a shiver. "I knew the day I met you that you were special. It was my own youthful foolishness that blinded me to just how special you were, my ignorant belief that a woman couldn't hold that same dark spark as me and my Serperior."

"Who do you think you're talking to?!" Jessie hissed, taking a step closer to him, fire lighting in her veins.

"We aren't so different, you and I, are we?" Donovan said wistfully. "You delight in the dominion and suffering of those beneath you, just as I do. Perhaps, if I'd only been less of a fool, I could have made you my queen. We could have ruled together." He bowed his head. "I have well learned my lesson," he told her. "I do often wonder what we could have been, had I only learned sooner."

Jessie gritted her teeth; one eyelid twitched. "We're nothing alike," she ground out. "You asked for everything I did to you."

But he only chuckled softly. "I've seen you perform on television sometimes," he went on. "You are as splendid as I always knew you could be, and more. Yet you cast pearls before swine; the groveling masses don't appreciate your brilliance."

"And they would have if you'd kept me?!" Jessie spat.

"No." He shook his head immediately, again not hesitating. "I tried to break you, and though you would have been marvelous, it would have been a disservice to the world to deny it your fire. Again, Jessica, I have learned my lesson well: a woman can be just as fierce and commanding as a man. When we met, I was young, and foolish, blinded by my own biases. Can you ever forgive me my mistake?"

"Not a chance," Jessie stated.

He sighed. "We could have been so much more, you and I," he lamented. "If only I had seen what was right in front of me…"

"Did you tell me to come so you could ask about Serperior, or so you could ask me for a second chance?" Jessie asked scathingly; as she spoke, she turned around and reached into her pocket for a tube of her favorite lipstick.

"Serperior has always been, and will always be, my first priority," he answered. "But…if there was ever a chance you and I could reconcile…I have learned, Jessica. And you were always my perfect match; I was too blind to see it before, but I do now. I dream of leaving this wretched place with you, and of us terrorizing the world together, you and I." Though her back was still turned, Jessie could almost hear him smile as he added, "You can't honestly tell me you're content with living under the yoke of society?"

Despite everything, the words struck Jessie hard in the chest. Yes, she'd lamented giving up her criminal freedoms to become a professional coordinator, almost every day. How dare Donovan act like he knew her well enough to strike her in such a sore spot?

Seething, Jessie applied a few extra extra layers of her lipstick, then pocketed the tube and turned around, a wicked smile spreading across her face. Drawing a deep breath from her belly and straightening up, she mustered the most piercing stage voice she possibly could.

"Oh, Donovan~!" she projected, enunciating every syllable loudly and clearly. "You want me to run away with you?! What a dream that would be!"

Donovan flinched with every word, curling in on himself and hugging himself with terror as lights illuminated the nearest windows.

Still grinning, Jessie reached for him. Grabbing him by his stupidly perfect hair, she yanked his face close and forcefully planted her lips on his cheek, smearing it with her lipstick as thoroughly and messily as possible. Only when she was sure he wouldn't be able to clean it all off did she release him.

"Jessica…" he whimpered.

"Have fun explaining that to your hag of a wife," Jessie snickered. Then she hardened and added, "And if I hear that you've so much as glanced at my baby girl again after this, I will come back, and I will do worse." Not waiting for him to respond, she turned to the top of the wall. "Corviknight! It's time for us to go!"

"Corvi corrrr!" her precious partner proclaimed, and it dove down, catching her upraised arms and lifting her into the sky.

She couldn't help looking back on the scene she'd made, dearly wishing she could stick around and see what horrors Jessebelle would inflict on him. Just imagining him tied up in her torture chamber made Jessie grin; maybe the witch would skin him alive, and he'd die screaming…

They weren't so different, really, Jessie refused to be ashamed to admit: they both held wickedness and cruelty in their hearts, and sought to crush everyone they could under their heels. But, at the same time, they were completely different…if only in that Jessie, unlike Donovan, knew what battles were worth fighting.