A/N: It was about time I wrote a filler. Have fun reading Ash and Misty go on their very first date!

Chapter 9 and a half: Filler

First date

Today was my first date with Ash.

It didn't feel all that different from the way we used to wander through cities as teens—except now, I could kiss him.

Not that I ever wanted to back then, but… yeah.

"Did anyone follow you?" Ash whispered in my ear as we hugged.

I couldn't help but giggle. "No, Mr. Spy From Mission Impossible."

"Right? It's like we're actual spies!" he said, grinning.

We pulled apart, exchanging goofy smiles.

I glanced around the park. At eleven in the morning, it was still fairly quiet, and I hoped the places we were headed to would be just as low-key.

"Okay, put your mask back on now," I said to Ash, spotting a group of girls in the distance, walking toward us.

Ash groaned but obeyed, pulling the mask back over his face. He turned to check on the approaching group, and seeing they were still far enough away, he quickly turned back to me, slipped the mask off again, and kissed me right on the lips.

A tight knot formed in my chest. I held his face, pulling him closer as his arms tightened around my waist. His warmth was grounding, the press of his lips against mine as dizzying as the first time. I closed my eyes, letting myself savor it for a moment longer. Just one more second. Just him and me.

But then, I heard footsteps drawing near. My heart screamed for more of his kisses, begging me to stay safe in his arms. But my head—the one that had learned to survive on fear—won. It always won.

I pulled back quickly, my fingers trembling as I tugged his mask back up. Strangers' glances pierced me, sharp as knives. Every passerby felt like a secret journalist trying to catch us. Every whisper seemed to tear at my edges, picking me apart just for existing in the same space as Ash.

He wouldn't understand—not the fear, not the weight of it. How could he? The world adored him. But to me, it felt like it was always watching, waiting for one wrong move, one wrong look, one kiss too long.

The girls passed by without even a second glance, whispering and giggling about something they were too indulged in to notice my flustered face, and I let out a relieved sigh.

"That was close," I whispered.

"Totally worth it!" he grinned.

I smiled meekly.

It took me a while to get over it.

My heart pounded in my chest, but I wasn't sure if it was because we were out in public or because this was my first real date with Ash. Or maybe it was because I'd put way too much effort into my outfit—a skirt, a Kalosian beret, the whole look—trying to be the kind of girl he'd go crazy for.

But he hadn't said a word about it.

No compliment. No lingering gaze. No look.

I knew the look—the one he gave me when I wore a bikini back at the gym, when we battled, or when I stole his clothes. But today, when I actually tried, it was nowhere to be found.

It really was like when we were teens, and I didn't know if it was good or bad.

"So," Ash said from behind his mask, walking closer to me as we both walked towards my car. "I know you like the classics."

"Huh?"

He didn't reply until we were settled in my car, me in the driver's seat because the car was relatively new and I didn't want to say goodbye to it yet. Not that I was calling him a bad driver– he was okay– I just loved this baby-blue-four-wheeled-princess way too much.

"The classics," he repeated, buckling his seat belt.

I gave him a blank look. "What are you talking about?"

"A movie, a stroll to the ice cream shop, and driving around until we find some random place to eat." He counted each on his fingers.

I chuckled. "Where'd you get this idea?"

He shrugged. "I have my sources."

Ash took the lead on our date, so our first stop was the movies. He wasn't wrong—I did love the classics. They were timeless, after all. Yet, none of my previous boyfriends ever dared to take me on a simple, classic date. With my reputation as a top gym leader, they always took me to fancy places—which, don't get me wrong, I loved—but this? This felt better. Though, I might be biased since it was Ash. Honestly, he could've handed me a twig, and I would've accepted it with a smile.

"Love At First Sight?" I read aloud the movie title as he bought the tickets from the counter. "Can you handle this stuff? You don't have to just because I love rom-coms."

He smirked. "It's alright, we have the back row anyway."

A butterfree fluttered in my chest. I slapped the tickets onto his arm. "Idiot," I muttered, but I couldn't help the goofy smile that spread across my face.

We took the last corner seat, a bucket of popcorn between us. It was perfect: a corner of a big, dark room where no one could see us and we could see no one. The movie was a classic romantic comedy, and I swear I watched the first half with my full attention.

We finished the popcorn in record time, barely fifteen minutes in, then I tried resting my head on his shoulder. That didn't work too well since we were about the same height. He chuckled at my awkwardness and instead leaned on my shoulder, but that wasn't quite comfortable either. So, we just held hands, sitting as close as we could.

On the big screen, the couple was caught in that slow, torturous pull of longing—their lips hovering, fingers grazing, tension thrumming between them like a live wire. I had read moments like this in books, dreamed about them, but nothing compared to the real thing.

Because the source of all my happiness and yearning was sitting right beside me.

The next thing I knew, we were looking at each other, the movie flickering across his face, casting shadows over his jawline, his slightly parted lips.

His gaze dropped to my mouth.

That was all it took.

The first kiss was soft, perfectly in sync with the movie's rhythm. But then—then it deepened. He tasted like popcorn. The music swelled in the background, each note pulsing through my veins, and suddenly, we weren't just kissing softly.

Ash's fingers traced the side of my neck, tilting my chin just enough for him to press in closer. His lips parted, teasing me, until I followed his lead, gasping as his tongue brushed against mine. The movie blurred into nothing.

I barely registered that I had shifted in my seat, legs brushing against his, knees knocking together. He chuckled softly against my lips, and the sound sent a wildfire through my stomach.

Somewhere in the background, the lovers on screen finally gave in to their passion. But Arceus, that didn't matter.

Because I was too busy losing myself in him.

"People will see us," the heroine of the movie said. I was taken aback by the synchronisation of the movie and our current situation.

Ash laughed against my mouth.

"It's not the people whose arms you find peace in, do you?" the hero of the movie responded smoothly.

"I'm all yours then," the heroine replied weakly.

Ash burst out laughing. "I never realised how unrealistic the dialogue was," he said, chuckling. "Who even talks like that?"

I looked at him, biting my lip. "Maybe it's a little unrealistic…" I countered. Did he hate the movie? Did he hate this kind of romance? I should keep that in mind in future.

His eyes widened in realisation, like he'd just read my mind. "Does that mean—"

"Shhh!" I lunged, slapping a hand over his mouth. "No!" I whispered, now smiling despite myself.

My hand on his mouth could not stop him from laughing. He gently removed my hand. "That turns you on, doesn't it?" he asked, smirking.

I felt myself shrinking in my seat as I leaned away from him. I knew I was blushing, so the darkness was helping. If he thought this was unrealistic and cringe, then I'm glad he couldn't hear me constantly monologuing in my head– it was way more dramatic than the movies I watched.

He laughed.

I furrowed my brows. "What?"

"Make me yours, angel. Nothing else matters," the hero said, more dramatically than ever.

Ash cleared his throat, then leaned in slow—way too slow. His breath brushed my cheek, and when he spoke, his voice was low, deep.

"Make me yours, Misty."

Arceus help me. I could only stare back.

His cheeks turned pink.

"Work with me, woman," he pouted. He cleared his throat again. "Okay, take-two, and action. Make me yours, Misty," he said, sounding so hot that the actor of the movie was nothing compared to him.

My entire body short-circuited. Heat flashed through me, my stomach twisting up so fast it was dizzying. I didn't even think—I just grabbed his shirt, yanked him in, and crashed our mouths together.

When the lights turned back on, I could finally see his face. I couldn't not laugh at the sight.

"Oh my—" I gasped, doubling over with laughter. "Ash. You look—" I couldn't even finish the sentence.

I pulled out my phone and flipped the front camera. His eyes went wide.

His mouth was a crime scene. Lipstick smeared everywhere—chin, cheeks, even a streak near his nose. Foundation painted around his mouth. He looked like a toddler who had gotten into their mom's makeup.

He snorted, pulling out his own phone. "Your turn."

I looked. And I think I might've peed a little when a fierce laugh escaped my mouth.

My foundation was smeared, my lipstick half-gone, and my hair looked like I had just been in a storm.

"Where did my makeup go?" I chortled. "At least I don't look like a clown," I added, teasing him.

He scrunched his nose, smirking. "Because you look like the clown's girlfriend."

We both burst out laughing.

His phone buzzed.

For a second, I expected him to check it—but instead, he silenced it without even looking at the screen. Just tucked it away and turned his full attention back to me.

My chest went warm.

After spending some time in front of the washroom mirror, we were finally out of the movie theater, with our disguise on again.

The popcorn disappeared in my stomach and I was hungry again. It was way past my lunchtime, and I assumed Ash's too (although, Ash never needed it to be lunchtime to be hungry.)

The café we took a walk to was small and cozy, tucked away in the quiet corner of the main market. The scent of fresh bread and something deliciously fried filled the air as Ash and I slid into a booth in the hidden corner. The second we picked up our menus, his eyes lit up.

"Oh man, they have triple cheeseburgers and triple chocolate pancakes?" he said, practically vibrating with excitement. "How am I supposed to choose?"

I smirked, resting my chin on my hand. "By using that tiny bit of brainpower you save for food-related emergencies?"

He grinned. "This is an emergency. I'm starving."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help laughing. "I'll get the pasta. And if you get fries, I'm stealing a few."

"Oh, so you're the thief in our disguise plan," he said, waggling his eyebrows. "I knew it."

The food arrived quickly, and the second it hit the table, Ash was already taking a large bite of his burger. I twirled my pasta around my fork, watching him with amusement as he all but melted in happiness.

"Okay," he said through a mouthful,"this is so cheesy."

I snorted. "You sound like you just discovered the meaning of life."

He swallowed and grinned. "Pretty sure I just did."

Shaking my head, I took a bite of my own food, humming in appreciation. "Alright, I'll admit it. Good choice, Ketchum. I don't know why I never knew about this place."

"See? I do have great taste." He leaned back smugly.

"Oh, please," I teased. "You'd eat a fried shoe if it came with a side of fries."

He gasped in mock offense. "Only if it was seasoned properly."

I reached over and swiped one of his fries before he could react. He let out a dramatic gasp. "Did you just—"

"Yep." I popped it into my mouth with a smirk.

Ash narrowed his eyes playfully. "Alright, it's war now, Mist."

Before I could react, he snatched a bite of my pasta, grinning. I gasped. "Ash!"

"You stole my fry!"

"That doesn't mean you get to steal my food! I just ordered pasta for one person while you ordered for a village!"

He waggled his fork at me. "I thought sharing was part of dating or something."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so now you remember we're together? Where was that energy when you stole the last bits of popcorn back in the theatre?"

Ash blinked, then smirked. "Oh, I remember we're together. Pretty sure I reminded you a few times at the theatre."

My face went hot, and his grin turned downright smug. "Here goes our Champion's ego," I shot back.

He snickered. "But you can't deny it."

"You know what else I can't deny?" I asked.

"What?"

"You being a thick skulled mankey."

"Aww, c'mon! A thick skulled mankey would never be so good at–"

"Why would you bring that up here!"

He snorted. "It's your fault you gave into your desires. You're too weak!"

"Let me give into my current desire," I said, smirking. Then I did the only reasonable thing—I grabbed a paper napkin, scrunched it into a ball and threw it at his face.

He laughed, dodging easily. "Bad shot." He took a big gulp from his milkshake and the classic white milkshake mustache on his upper lip made his smug face funnier. "You can't catch me!"

I snorted. "Not when you look like the Mafia Boss from Candyland."

He laughed.

"Let me just…" I grabbed another paper napkin and wiped it off his face, he sat patiently as I did so.

"Is that Ash Ketchum?!" We heard a little girl's shriek from somewhere in the cafe, and we both ducked, lowering ourselves down on the table. I touched the beret still.

"Yes, honey," followed a motherly voice. "That's him on the TV!"

We looked at each other and took a sigh of relief. But we didn't know what to do next. Do we sit back up? Would they recognise us– him? Would they recognise him?

"This is nice," Ash murmured. "Just like spies."

I smiled, stroking my hair so it framed my face more. "Yeah. It is." But it wasn't. It wasn't fair to him. Even if he made a spy game out of this sad act of cowardice by me, it wasn't nice of me.

The world outside was still loud, still busy. The little girl and her mother were probably still there. Ash's face on the screen was probably still there. Me not being a part of all this was still true. And it hurt.

But then Ash nudged my foot under the table, a small grin still playing on his lips, like none of it mattered—as if, right now, the only thing worth focusing on was this silly game of ours. He made it so easy to forget the rest.

"You know what they do in spy movies to get the attention off them?" he whispered.

"What?" I whispered back.

He smirked before answering. "Make out, obviously."

I giggled softly.

Maybe that's why, even when the world felt too big and too far away, there was no one else I'd rather be with.

The moment we sneaked out of our booth and walked outside the cafe, Ash pulled his mask back on, and I slid my sunglasses over my eyes. Back to being spies, back to playing pretend.

The streets of Cerulean were alive with the hum of city life, the golden afternoon light making everything look warm and familiar. Vendors called out their daily deals, kids zoomed past on bikes, and the distant sound of a street performer's violin wove through the air.

Ash stretched his arms over his head and let out a dramatic sigh. "Alright, where to, Agent Waterflower?"

I glanced around, my gaze landing on a row of antique shops along a quieter street. The glass storefronts glowed invitingly, filled with old trinkets, vintage books, and forgotten treasures.

"Do you wanna check that place out, Ash?"

Ash didn't follow my words. He just shook his head. "I'm not Ash. I'm Agent…uhh…Thunder. Yes, Agent Thunder."

I giggled, "Thunder? Okay…then, I'm Agent Storm."

Ash's eyes lit up. "Ooh, we'll be called Thunderstorm together!"

"That's right!" I held his hand as we walked toward the antique shop.

"It'll be like treasure hunting. Do you think I'll find a pirate hat in there?"

"You'll only be allowed to wear it with an eye patch."

"Of course, Misty, I'm not uncultured."

The first shop we wandered into smelled like aged paper and cedarwood. Wooden shelves were stacked with dusty tomes, old maps, and delicate glass figurines. Ash immediately got distracted by an entire section of vintage Pokémon League memorabilia.

"Oh man, look at this!" He held up a slightly worn poster of an old Indigo League tournament, pointing at the faded image of a much younger Professor Oak standing next to a tough-looking Tauros. "This is so cool. Imagine being in a time where this was peak battling."

I leaned in, grinning. "I dunno, I think the best trainer of all time is still making history."

Ash turned to me, and even behind his mask, I could tell he was grinning. "Flattery will get you everywhere, you know."

I rolled my eyes, nudging him toward the register. "Then buy it already, Agent Thunder. I wasn't talking about you anyway. I was talking about this dork named Ash."

"Ha, ha."

He did buy the poster, of course, and by the time we left the shop, he was still buzzing about it. We wandered into more stores—one filled with odd little music boxes, another with stacks of postcards from all over Kanto.

At one point, I found an ancient-looking fishing rod propped in the corner of a shop, and Ash burst into laughter. "Agent Storm, it's calling to you."

I scoffed, crossing my arms. "I already have a perfectly good rod, thank you very much."

"Yeah, but this one is vintage." He grinned. "Imagine the history."

"Imagine me whacking you with it."

"Not very professional of you to whack a fellow agent." He laughed but wisely backed away.

By the time the sun started dipping below the skyline, we had gathered a handful of small trinkets—a couple of postcards, the League poster, and a tiny glass Starmie I'd found in one of the shops.

It was nice.

But as we reached the car, reality crept back in.

Ash stretched, cracking his neck as he leaned against the hood. "Back to the station? I can catch the

evening train."

He started walking towards the door of the car. I tugged the corner of his jacket. The words were on the tip of my tongue before I even fully thought them through.

"You could stay at the gym again," I said, watching him carefully. "It's the weekend anyway."

He turned to me curiously, his expression unreadable. Then he smiled—smaller this time, softer. "You sure?"

I shrugged, playing it cool. "Yeah, I can make space for you in my bed."

His laugh was warm, easy. "Alright, alright. Twist my arm. I gave Pikachu a heads up anyway."

I smiled, feeling a wave of giddiness all over me. "Let's pick my Pika-Pal from the Pokemon Centre then?"

Something about having him here—something about waking up to him—made all the difference.

As we got into the car and I started the drive back, the city lights flickered past us, blending into the night. I opened the windows and the chilly air tingled on my skin. We were out of the market and were now on the quiet road towards the newly inaugurated Pokemon Centre near the station. Now with more trees than buildings taking upspace, I felt better. The night sky looked pretty–not as pretty as Pallet's sky, but prettier than it's ever been.

Ash's phone buzzed in his pocket. I glanced at him briefly before turning my attention back to the road. He pulled it out, checked the screen, and muttered, "Crap," before declining the call.

I raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Should I be concerned?" I joked. I shifted gears, pressing the accelerator now that we were out of the buzzing market.

"No!" He fidgeted with his phone. It buzzed again. He cut the call. Again.

"Ash." I slowed down just a little. "What's going on?" I asked, feeling this was more than a joke moment.

"Hey, don't stop the car! We need to get to the Pokémon Center!" he said hurriedly.

I flipped on the turn signal and pulled over anyway, switching on the parking lights. Turning toward him, I folded my arms. "Alright. Why are you acting weird all of a sudden?"

He shrugged. "I'm not."

Buzz.

I shot him a look. "Pick it up if it's important. You ignored your phone all day." If he was doing to give me his full attention, I'd naturally feel guilty to hog all his time.

"It's no one important."

I arched an eyebrow. "Who is it?" Unfaithfulness was never a concern with Ash. What was though, was him ending up in classic Ash situations, and I was just afraid this was one of those. What if he accidentally got on the bad side of a real mafia gang like one does? Or worse, what if he made friends with them?

"No one."

The phone buzzed again.

I let out a dramatic sigh. "Ash, unless your phone suddenly gained self-awareness, someone is calling

you."

"Why does it matter?"

I didn't answer. I just reached over and snatched the phone from his hands before he could react.

The screen flashed: Gary Oak.

"Gary? " Ash blurted. "I mean, of course it's Gary."

I took a sigh of relief. "Unless you're secretly sleeping with Gary, I don't see why you're so panicked right now."

Ash let out a nervous chuckle. "Of course not."

Before he could protest further, the phone buzzed again. With a defeated sigh, he put it on speaker.

A loud, way too excited voice filled the car.

"Wassup, A-Dawg! How's it going with Red?"

Ash groaned. "Hey, man."

Gary snickered. "So? Is she all over you already, or do you need more tips? Just don't mess it up, Ashy-boy."

I turned to Ash, barely holding back my laugh. "He's your source?" I whispered.

Ash pouted. "He was the best shot I had!"

Gary's voice cut in again, smug as ever. "What was that, Ashy-boy? Is Red listening?"

I finally lost it, cracking up. "Yes, Gary. Red is listening."

"I feel betrayed, Red. You called me your brother." His mock sadness instantly reminded me of the dumb rule he and Ash had about sisters being off-limits.

I shook my head, leaning closer to the phone. "Semi-friend, remember?"

"Of course you flipped now." Gary snickered. "Anyways, have fun bangin—"

"Shut the fuck up!" I shrieked, breaking into a fit of giggles. "Don't forget my boyfriend is stronger than your flimsy-ass!"

Gary cleared his throat. "But now that it's established you're dating my sister-like-friend—"

"Semi-friends," I corrected.

Gary ignored me. "That means I get to break the rule too, okay, Ashy-boy? Just remember this in the future."

"No, you don't!" I interrupted. I shot Ash a look. "Don't fall for his postdiction agenda!"

He tilted his head, confused. "What?"

"Ash, he's dating your cousin."

"WHAT?!" Ash practically choked on his own breath, eyes widening in horror. He grabbed the phone from my hand and stared at the screen like Gary could physically feel his glare. "With who?! Which cousin?! WHEN?!"

"How many cousins do you have, you dork? And Misty, you're a real back-stabber," Gary deadpanned and immediately hung up.

Ash turned to me, still frozen. "Did I—did I just find out through you that Leaf is dating Gary?!"

I shrugged, barely hiding my grin. "Guess so."

He ran a hand down his face. "Oh my Arceus. I need a minute."

I shrugged. "Hey, Gary's a nice guy."

We stared at each other before laughing at my statement.

"He's semi-nice at best," Ash said between laughs. "But why would Leaf date him?"

I shrugged. "Sometimes we end up falling for people we never thought we would. And… he probably is like a brother to me. So you broke the rule too."

Ash rolled his eyes. "Can't believe you are in cahoots with Gary. It was just a stupid rule. I didn't care about it anyway."

I smiled, and for a moment, we just sat in silence.

Then, Ash shifted in his seat. His fingers drummed lightly on his knee, and he exhaled slowly. "Hey, Misty…"

"Hmm?" I placed my hands on the wheel again, but I didn't start the car.

He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. His voice was softer this time. "Did you… did you enjoy today?"

I turned to look at him.

His cheeks slightly flushed, his lips parted like he was holding his breath. I don't know why, but he reminded me of a beautiful lanturn. Bright, warm, and always leading me somewhere safe.

I smiled. "It was our first date, Ash. And even if we had to stay low-key, it was the most fun I've had in a while."

He sighed. "I was afraid I wasn't up to your standards." He scratched his nose. "Gary told me I needed to step up my game, or I'd repeat my mistakes."

"Ash, I—" I took off my beret, running a hand through my hair. "Of course I had fun. You're making an effort in the right direction…" I should've too. "And that's enough for me."

He leaned back on his seat, exhaling in relief. "I'm glad."

"Although," I pointed out, smirking. "You never complimented my outfit."

He sat up straighter. "Your outfit?" He looked at me, scanning me from head to toe. A small smile played on his lips. "You look beautiful, Misty," he said with a steadier voice. "You–you always do." He hesitated, then shrugged. "I thought this was a part of the disguise, though. I thought you're pretending to be someone else. But… it doesn't matter because you look pretty even in my ugly shirts. And…I usually think I don't need to say it because you must already know– you're the prettiest girl in the world."

My heart skipped a beat.

"You are so sweet!" I squealed, immediately unbuckling my seatbelt.

Ash barely had time to blink before I grabbed his face, squishing his cheeks between my palms. "Mmf—Misty?!"

Then I peppered kisses all over his skin.

His eyes widened."Mphf–"

His face flushed, a small giggle escaping his lips.

When I finally pulled back, I smirked at his reaction. "Do I make your heart flutter?" I teased, chuckling. "Can you not stop blushing around me, Pallet Town?" I poked his cheek, watching his ears turn an even deeper shade of pink. "Were you trying to impress me all day?"

His hands caught mine, holding them against his cheeks. "Yes," he admitted, his smile shy, his cheeks burning.

I wrapped my arms around his neck with a smirk. "Smooth moves, Ketchum."

He groaned, burying his face against my shoulder. "Yeah, right…"

Just him and me, in this little car. Dim lights, peaceful silence.

Cringe much? It was either this or nothing, so why not, right?

I'm almost, ALMOST done with the next chapter, I'll try to post it befor my birthday this month (turning 23 does something to a girl, like what do you mean I'm the adult? Wasn't I 19 just yesterday?)