=Author's Note=
	I can't tell you how severely disappointed I was with 'Dexteria'.  After I 
published it, I thought to myself "Cyberwraith, old boy, that really sucked.  
Start writing better."  Well, this is my 'better writing' attempt.  Oh, just one 
helpful hint; when imagining the voice of Gracie, think Fran Drescher from TV's 
"The Nanny".  I hope you enjoy my first AAMRN attempt!

=Legal Disclaimer=
	Pokémon is a registered trademark of Nintendo and Game Freak Inc.  I claim 
to have no ownership of any of them little critters, nor the characters we all 
know and love.  Any resemblance to a real person, dead or alive, is probably a 
hidden joke within the text and should be summarily be dismissed from any court 
of law as an attempt of slander because I don't have enough cash to cover the 
legal fees.  Lather, rinse, and repeat.

BadgeQuest #7
The Master's Ball

**Saturday**

	The sun shone brightly over Pallet Bay, casting a warm glow across the 
cold blue waters.  The Magikarp were playing across the ocean, breaking the 
surface of the sea to wave at the sky and breathe in the fresh air before 
disappearing once more into the murky depths.  Sea Pidgeys trilled and sang, 
swooping and diving, trying to capture a Water type for a meal.  A cool breeze 
wafted through the air, stirring the trees along the high cliffs on either side 
of the seaport.  The brown vertical sandstone represented a sort of gateway into 
Pallet Town, a doorway to the sleepy hamlet.

	Ash took all of it in, swallowing the landscape with his eyes as he stood 
on the bow of the freighter.  It had been a long eight months of travel, and a 
lot of hard training.  His backpack sported eighteen new badges, shining 
brightly as only new badges could.  Pikachu and Togepi were playing at his feet; 
Pikachu held Togepi up in front of it, the tiny mouse's arms stretched out to 
their limit.  Ash sighed, grinning.  It had been a mistake to let Misty take 
Pikachu to see 'Titanic' eighteen of the twenty times she had gone.  Once in a 
while the effects would crop up.  Just a month ago, he had caught the electric 
mouse spitting over the railing of their hotel.  He shifted his attention back 
to the harbor as the ship made its excruciatingly slow approach.  

	"You're up early." Misty's voice came from behind him unexpectedly. 
"Whacha thinking about?"    She had been standing behind him for several 
minutes, taking in the view as well.  More than one view, in fact.  "Or is this 
just one of those 'quiet pauses of reflection' that heroes sometimes take?"

	Ash chuckled.  "No heroes here, just me."  He turned, leaning against the 
railing.  "It just feels good to get back to the island."  He gave his companion 
the once-over.  She was dressed in her usual fashion; a pair of jeans, an 
oversized T-shirt, her hair drawn back behind her ears, except for that singular 
lock she kept by her temple.  "Guess I'm a little anxious, too."

	"Whatever for?" she flashed him her patented sardonic grin, leaning 
against the rail next to him.  "I mean, it'll only be your second-no wait, 
'third'-year as returning League Champion."  She tilted her head back to look up 
at the cloudless, clear blue sky.  Her grin was still firmly in place.  "You'll 
only have every active member of the Indigo League gunning for you, trying to 
take you down.  And of course, the majority of fans will be watching, waiting 
for the heroic underdog who takes down the long-standing champ to replace him.  
Why be anxious about that?"

	He gave her a withering glance, which she promptly replied to with a 
raspberry.  Down by their feet, Togepi had grown tired of their 'Titanic' game, 
and was now running about the deck.  Pikachu ran after the dancing egg, trying 
to catch it before a patch of wet deck caused it to slip and slide overboard.  
As always, though, Pikachu was merely wasting its time; harm seemed to leap out 
of Togepi's way, no matter how great the danger.  The egg child narrowly avoided 
running off the ship like a rotund lemming, veering off to the side at the last 
moment.  Pikachu tried too late to skid to a stop before it suffered the fate it 
was trying to protect Togepi from, and was careening towards the deck's edge.  
It squeezed its amber eyes shut, screaming "Pikaaaaa!  Piiiiikaaaaaa!"

	Brock's strong hand scooped the hydroplaning Pikachu before the Pokémon 
could plunge into a watery grave, lifting it up into his arms.  "Pikachu, you 
goof, you know better than to run on a wet deck." he scolded the yellow 
thundermouse gently.  "You'll set a bad example for Togepi!" Togepi wrapped its 
small arms around Brock's leg, cooing softly.  Pikachu just clung to Brock's 
vest, heaving and waiting for the adrenaline rush to tone down.  Brock simply 
chuckled, scratching the Pokémon behind its stiff, fear-frozen ears.  The tall, 
dark-skinned young man walked over to his friends, giving the pair a smile.  
"Man, it'll be great to get some home cooking after all those months of fast 
food."

	 Ash nodded.  His head was filled with all of the comforts of home; fresh-
baked pie, cooling on the windowsill; Mr. Mime, waking him before dawn with a 
gentle vacuuming of his face; remnants of a huge meal sitting before him as he 
leans back, barely able to move with his bulging stomach; Misty...

	The young trainer blinked.  Misty?  Where in the world had that come from?  
It had been happening a lot lately...much too often to be healthy, normal.  She 
would pop into his mind at random, appearing amidst seemingly innocent thoughts.  
During the middle of a meal, walking through a strange city, jolting him awake 
in the middle of the night...there seemed no end to the mental tapestry the 
Mistress of Water was weaving in his head.  It was becoming maddening, haunting 
him, tantalizing him, driving him insane.  He pushed himself off of the railing 
and back onto his feet.  "Think I'll freshen up before we hit land." he excused 
himself, beating a hasty retreat for their cabin.

	The instant Ash was out of sight, Misty's shoulder's sagged, and she 
heaved a frustrated sigh.  Her eyes swept upward towards Brock questioningly.  
"Brock, why does he keep avoiding me?"  Pain and sadness crept into her voice, 
noticeable only to those who knew Misty best.

	Brock laughed, waving her off.  "He's not avoiding you.  Don't be silly."  
Why was Ash avoiding her, anyway?  This wasn't like them at all; they hadn't had 
a fight in days, almost a week!  Something was starting to go sour.  "You're 
imagining things." he consoled her.  The Rock Master wasn't sure how much longer 
he could keep quiet.  A stupid oath, that was all that was stopping him. Stupid 
to anyone but him, that is.

	Misty turned out to the sea, staring forlornly at the Pallet shoreline.  
It had happened not to far from here, all those years ago.  She could remember 
that rainy, stormy night down to the smallest detail; his face, his eyes...how 
mad they had been at each other.  She had never felt so angry, so entirely livid 
at anyone before.  She had broken it off with him right there on the beach.  It 
had been the end of their relationship...or was it the beginning?  After they 
had stopped seeing each other, their friendship had become strong, much stronger 
than it had been before they had become a couple.  "Maybe I should just try to 
get over him." she mused.  It wasn't the first time she had thought about it.  
Nor was it the first time she had mentioned it to Brock.  Or the second time.  
Or even the twenty-fifth time.  "It would be a huge mistake to try again, 
wouldn't it?"  Pikachu and Togepi stared up at her, blinking curiously.  Togepi 
didn't quite understand what was going on, but Pikachu did.  Like Brock, he had 
played witness to the strange happenings between Ash and Misty for the past two 
months.

	Brock rolled his slanted eyes, invisible behind his eternal squint.  He 
said the same thing he always said; "I don't know."

	"I mean, so what if I have feelings for him?" she continued, ranting as 
she always did.  It was starting to make Brock miserable.  "It's not like I 
haven't hid those feelings before, right?  And anyway, he was a lousy boyfriend!  
Always canceling dates, flirting with other girls, making excuses..." She 
slumped down.  "Do I really miss that?"

	"I don't know."  Brock's head was pounding.  It was the seventh time in as 
many days that this conversation popped up.  Maybe he should just tape-record 
the phrase 'I don't know' and play it whenever Misty started using him as a 
sounding board.

	She was now into the third phase of the conversation; anger.  "That jerk!  
That stupid, inconsiderate, lousy excuse for a trainer!" she swept a hand down 
furiously, enraged by her own feelings.  "To blazes with him, and to blazes with 
me!  I don't need him anyhow."  She sighed, and looked to Brock again.  "Do you 
think he still likes me?"

	"I don't know."

	She ignored him.  "I'll bet he doesn't.  I'll bet he's just waiting to 
hook up with some cute, vapid, bubbly blonde beginning trainer.  She'll play 
coy, and ask him cute, stupid questions like 'Oh, how's this Pokyball thing 
work, Ashy?' or 'Can you help me with my Oddish, Ashy?', and then she'll kiss 
him on the nose, and they'll get married, and I'll die cold and alone, and 
they'll bury me at sea, and a Gyarados'll eat my body."

	Brock groaned inwardly.  If he had to listen to this one more time, he 
would throw her to the Gyarados himself.  Rather than feed her to the fishes, he 
opted for his usual response.  "Don't worry, things will be looking up soon."
*		*		*

	Things were really looking up as far as Ash Ketchum was concerned.  He, 
Misty, Brock, and Pikachu were walking along the well-beaten path towards Pallet 
Town's world-famous research lab.  The Pokémon trainer wanted to check in with 
his longtime mentor before going back home.  Maybe Professor Oak would have 
something new for him to test, or a new Pokédex upgrade.  Something to make 
Dexter slightly less annoying would be a godsend.  He walked with a skip in his 
step, forgetting about his romantic dilemmas for the moment.  It was a beautiful 
day, and nothing could go wrong.

	Professor Oak greeted his young friends from the lab's side entrance, 
waving and smiling.  "Hello, come in, come in!" he smiled, shooing them in the 
door.  Ash was about to return the Professor's greetings, then stopped dead in 
his tracks.  The small living area in the lab, with the coffee table, 
television, and couches, was filled with dozens and dozens of boxes.  Large 
ones, small ones...they formed walls and walls of brown cardboard that obscured 
the rest of the room from view.

	They were silent with confusion.  Brock was the first to recover, "Uh, 
Professor...what's going on?"  He scratched his head in puzzlement, picking up 
one of the boxes.  It wasn't unbearably heavy, but it wasn't exactly 
featherweight either.  "What the heck is in these things?"  Pikachu leapt off of 
Ash's shoulder and began to hop from box to box, trying to see inside the sealed 
containers.

	Before Oak could respond a pair of burly, unkempt deliverymen dressed in 
orange jumpsuits shoved their way past the Trio, laden with more boxes.  "This 
is the last of them, Professorrrrr..." he checked his clipboard for the name, 
"Ark.  Sign here, please."  He handed the clipboard to Oak, who made a point of 
signing his name large enough for the slow-witted box lugger to interpret.  The 
move failed.  "Thanks Mr. Ark.  The rest of 'em are out back, like you asked.  
Have a nice day."  He and his companion exited the room, rudely slamming the 
door behind them.

	Oak sighed, turning to Ash, Misty and Brock.  "That's right, you haven't 
heard yet."  He flashed a grin at them, winking.  "I have a very lovely surprise 
for you three.  It's just what you need after several months of traveling."  He 
began walking around the boxes, leading them towards the far end of the 
building.  "Come with me!"

	The aging Professor led them out the other end of the lab, out into the 
Oak Institute's Pokémon natural reserve.  Most of the reserve was filled to 
capacity with all sorts of Pokémon, constantly being studied by Oak and his 
assistants.  The first few hundred yards, however, had been cleared, and was 
dotted with more of the strange boxes.  Ash was still confused, a feeling he 
didn't like too well.  "Professor, I still don't understand.  What's going on?"

	"About time you got your worthless butt back on the island, Ash."

	Ash whirled around, angered by the insult.  He saw the culprit standing 
behind him, his face hidden by a huge box.  However, once the figure set his 
heavy load down, Ash's rage quickly changed to surprise and joy.  "Richie!"

	Richie smiled at Ash, tugging on his heavy cap.  He wore a pair of 
coveralls and a teal T-shirt, and looked fatigued.  The poor trainer had been 
hauling boxes for Professor Oak all morning.  "So, how's our favorite League 
Champ been lately?"  He gave Ash a wink.  He was just as competitive with Ash as 
Gary was, but he was much nicer about it.  The two had been friends ever since 
their first League Games together, five years ago.  "I hear you're trying to get 
all the badges in the world now."  Ash nodded in confirmation, getting a laugh 
of incredulity from Richie.  "Oh man, do you set the bar high, or what?"  They 
laughed together.

	"So what're you doing here?  Shouldn't you be at the Indigo Stadium by 
now?  The Games are only two weeks away."

	"Well, I would, but Professor Oak here asked for my help." he chucked a 
thumb in the old scientist's direction.  "I figured it wouldn't be nice if I 
left the poor guy to set up for the Master's Ball all by himself."

	"Oh, well that-The WHAT?" Ash was horrified.  He exchanged glances with 
Brock, who was feeling an equal terror growing in the pit of his stomach.  Not 
the Master's Ball.  Anything but the Master's Ball.  They had dodged that bullet 
this year...hadn't they?

	Professor Oak stepped in.  "They're holding the Master's Ball a little 
later this year.  Next Thursday, in fact.  It was my turn to host it, so I chose 
the lab."  He gazed out at the flat surface of the reserve.  "I thought a 
moonlit dance under the stars would be the perfect thing for all of our tired, 
hard-working guests.  I already answered for each of your RSVPs...Oh yes, I 
almost forgot; escort is mandatory."

	"Oh my God, next Thursday?  That's less than a week away!" Ash was really 
panicking now.  He was pacing in circles, becoming more frantic with each 
passing moment.  "We can't go to the Ball!  We'll have to un-RSVP!  No, it's too 
late for that.  I know!  We can have an excuse.  No one can dance with a broken 
leg.  Someone break my leg!!!"  Pikachu mimicked its trainer, running around 
wildly.

	Brock grabbed Ash by the shoulders, shaking him furiously.  "Ash, get a 
hold of yourself!  No one is going to break your leg.  I'm just as scared as you 
are, but let's be reasonable; there's no time to come up with an excuse, and 
there's no time to find dates."  He stood proudly, looking off into the horizon.  
"There's only one honorable thing left to do."

	"Skip town?"

	Brock nodded.  "Bingo.  I'll grab our luggage."

	"I'll make the airline reservations."


	Misty sighed as Ash and Brock began springing into action.  She missed 
going to the Master's Ball, the League's annual black-tie dance for Gym Leaders 
and League Masters.  Not that she couldn't understand her friends' abhorrence of 
the social event; Brock could never find a decent date, and was always paired 
with some awful, awful woman he met in some Pokémon Center.  As for Ash...well, 
he couldn't get a date to save his life, not since she dumped him.  Somehow they 
had always managed to dodge the dance before it happened.  This time, though, it 
seemed the dance had hunted them down.

	Ash asked quickly if he could use Professor Oak's videophone, then made a 
beeline for the door leading back into the lab.  Throwing the door open wide, he 
saw Gary Oak, Professor Oak's irritating grandson and Ash's greatest rival, 
blocking the exit.  Ash, Misty, Brock, Richie-even Pikachu-forced down a sneer 
of contempt at the sight of the braggart.  The corners of Gary's mouth turned 
upwards with amusement at the sight of the 'Loser Squad'.  "Well, if it isn't 
the soon-to-be-replaced League Champion."

	Ash gritted his teeth.  He didn't dare tell Gary off right in front of the 
Professor.  "Will you 'please' excuse me?  I need to use the telephone."

	Gary swaggered through, pushing Ash out of the way.  "So, pulling your 
usual disappearing acts right before the Master's Ball, are you?"  He smirked.  
"It figures.  A lame doofus like you can't even get a girl to look at him, much 
less dance with him."

	"I, uh...-" Ash needed to think quickly.  He couldn't stand the thought of 
Gary getting the better of him in anything.  "I just came back for the dance a 
little early.  When I heard it was going to be in Pallet Town, I couldn't wait 
to come home!" It was amazing how quickly the hot air flowed from his mouth.  He 
could have filled Team Rocket's balloon in mere moments!

	"You know you have to have a date to get in, right?" Gary ribbed him, 
folding his skinny arms across his chest as he looked down at Ash.  Ash would 
never forgive his genes for making him shorter than Gary Oak.  Of course, 
beating the self-proclaimed titan of Pokémon at his own game helped to make up 
for it.  "So who's it gonna be?"  His eyes flickered towards Misty.

	"It's a surprise." Ash retorted.  He looked back at Misty and Brock.  
"We're all going to the dance, right guys?"  They stared at him incredulously.  
"I said 'RIGHT GUYS'?"

	"Oh yes." Misty said dully.

	"Absolutely." Brock gritted his teeth.

	Richie smiled.  "I'm gonna head up to Indigo Plateau a little early.  
Though I'm gonna be sorry I missed this Master's Ball."  He winked at Ash.  "It 
sounds like it's gonna be a blast."

	Pikachu sighed.  Ash was always miserable before a Master's Ball, which 
meant that he would make everyone else miserable.  "Chaaaaaa..."
*		*		*

	"Mo-om, we're ho-ome!"

	Ash, Misty and Brock walked through the front door of the Ketchum 
residence, setting their luggage down gently to the side.  As always, the house 
seemed to shine with a spotless gleam to it, no doubt thanks to Mr. Mime's 
tireless and somewhat frantic cleaning methods.  As if on cue, the clownish 
pantomime Pokémon turned the corner of the entryway, running and crying out with 
joy.  "Mime mime mister mime!"  It leapt up into Ash's arms joyfully.  He 
returned the greeting, grinning at the foolish Mr. Mime.  Pikachu glared 
jealously at the two from atop Ash's luggage, but only for a moment.  He knew 
Ash wouldn't neglect his first Pokémon...and if he did, a little voltage would 
quickly cure him of that.

	"Mrs. Ketchum?" Brock called out, peering up the stairwell.  "Mrs. 
Ketchum, are you in?"

	Ash's mom rounded the corner as Mr. Mime had done a moment ago, smiling.  
She carried a well-read volume in one hand and a pair of reading glasses in the 
other.  Ash's mother had a face that not even time could weather; ever-smiling, 
bright, cheerful, with well-sculpted cheekbones and smooth, tanned skin.  
"What's all the fuss about?" she asked teasingly.  "It's almost like you're 
coming back after forever!"  She laughed, setting down her things, then wrapped 
Ash in a bear hug that threatened to crush the boy.  "Oh, I'm so glad you're 
home."  Her voice grew stern, "Though it wouldn't hurt to write me more than 
once a month, you know!"  Ash looked away sheepishly.

	Misty cleared her throat.  "Thank you for offering to put us up, Mrs. 
Ketchum."  She nodded cordially, truly grateful.  Mrs. Ketchum was very 
different from her own mother; she was understanding, pleasant, and fun to be 
around.  Not that she didn't love her own family, but it always felt like she 
was coming home when she visited this house, much like Ash felt.  "We'll try not 
to be a bother."

	Ash's mom waved her off.  "Enough with the politeness, Misty."  She hugged 
Misty, giving her a peck on the cheek.  "You know you and Brock are as welcome 
here as Ash is.  Heaven knows you live here almost as much as he does now."  She 
smiled, glancing over at Brock.  "Speaking of the little heartbreaker..." she 
grabbed Brock in a hug next, which he gladly returned.  Like Misty, he always 
enjoyed a chance to visit Mrs. Ketchum.  A little mothering now and again never 
hurt anyone, did it?  "My goodness, Brock, how you've grown!  I can barely get 
my arms around you now!"

	He blushed.  "Yeah, I guess so." he stammered.  
They all laughed, and went into the kitchen to sit down.  After a standard round 
of milk-and-cookies, they began talking for hours about their adventures off of 
the island.  Ash was very careful to leave out some of their more harrowing 
escapades with Team Rocket so as not to worry his mother.  As he neared the end 
of their compacted version of the past months, his expression became forlorn 
with a sudden realization.  The change of mood didn't escape his mother.

	"What's wrong, dear?"

	He moaned.  "I almost forgot.  I have to figure out what I'm going to do 
about next week!"  His face fell into the communal plate of cookies, now empty 
save for a few crumbs.  "Oh man, I can't believe I had to open my big mouth."

	"I can't believe it either." Misty cuffed him upside the head with 
disgust.  "Do you have any idea how hard it'll be to find a dress for the 
Master's Ball on such short notice?"  She downed the rest of her milk, unaware 
of the white mustache that remained on her upper lip.

	"About half as hard as it'll be to find a date." Brock slipped into 
depression, resting his head on the countertop.

	Mrs. Ketchum, however, was delighted.  "The Master's Ball?  'The' Master's 
Ball?  That's wonderful!"  She clapped her hands together excitedly, jumping up 
and down.  "Oh, I just love dances!  They're so elegant, and beautiful, and-" 
she sighed.  "Is there anything more wonderful?"  She grabbed Ash's arm, tugging 
on it.  "Come on, we've got to start getting ready right away!"

	"Mo-om!" he cried out, yanking his arm away.  "Calm down, will you?  The 
dance isn't for another week!  Besides, only Masters can go.  You can't get in 
unless you have eight badges."

	"Or you're a Gym Leader." Misty reminded him, still oblivious to her 
embarrassing upper lip.  Ash rolled his eyes.  How was it that she never, not 
once missed an opportunity to point out when he was wrong or what he had missed?

	Ash's mother was unfazed.  "Oh, that doesn't matter.  Preparation is half 
the fun!  Besides, I'm happy for you!"  She sighed, clasping her hands together.  
"They're so romantic.  An enchanting evening made for true love."

	Her son leaned back.  "It'd probably be even more romantic if any of us 
had dates." he mumbled.  He gave his last chocolate-chip cookie to Pikachu, who 
sat patiently on the floor waiting for someone to drop something.  The tiny 
Pokémon accepted the cookie with a gleeful 'Pika!' and began greedily cramming 
it between its tiny, needle-sharp fangs.  Next to ketchup, Pikachu adored 
chocolate.

	Mrs. Ketchum waved her son's pessimism off like a fowl odor, laughing.  
"That's your problem, I'm afraid.  I can only do so much, after all."  She 
checked her watch, then looked out the window at the now darkened sky, unlit by 
a sun that had set hours before.  "Oh dear, it's getting late.  You three should 
be off to bed, there's so much to do tomorrow."  She began walking off towards 
her bedroom, ticking various tasks off on her fingers.  "We have to get Ash's 
tuxedo dry cleaned, rent a tux for Brock, find a good hair-and-nail place for 
Misty, give Pikachu a bath..."

	Ash couldn't help but smile.  At least one of them was excited.  He looked 
down at Pikachu, who was drowsy after a full stomach of cookies and milk.  He 
picked the Pokémon up, intending to carry it up with him to his room.  Misty, 
however, beat him to the punch, running to the threshold of the stairs.  "You 
get the couch tonight, Ash.  I'm crashing in that disaster area you call a 
room."

	Ash grumbled.  Then he smiled coyly.  "Goodnight.  Oh, and Misty?"  He 
scratched his upper lip innocently.  She frowned, confused, then touched her own 
lip, still coated with a dry milk mustache.  She wiped it off with her sleeve, 
then stuck her tongue out at him and ran upstairs.  He chuckled, stroking 
Pikachu on the back.  He received a purr of contentment from the yellow rodent 
in response, giving him another reason to smile.

	Brock winked at him.  "You still like her, don't you?"

	"No!" Ash cried.  "No, don't be silly.  No.  No...Yes."  He grumbled 
again, cursing his own jumbled thoughts.  "Okay, there, I said it.  Happy now?"

	"Not yet."  Brock circled around the island counter, arms folded across 
his chest.  He smacked Ash on the forehead.  "You haven't figured it out yet?"

	"Figured what out?" Ash rubbed his head, kicking Brock in the shin with 
annoyance.

	Brock sighed, disgusted.  "Do I have to put things in plain English for 
you?"  Ash continued to stare at him with that confused deer-in-the-headlights 
look.  "Okay, here goes; TAKE-HER-TO-THE-DANCE!"

	"What???" Ash was shocked.  "Are you nuts?  She'd never go for that!  I'd 
have to be crazy or something to ask her to the Master's Ball."  He continued to 
pet Pikachu, trying to avoid Brock's piercing gaze.

	"Ash, this is a golden opportunity."  He grabbed Ash by the shoulders, 
trying to get him to realize just how serious he was.  "Chances like this don't 
just walk up and smack you in the face every day."

	Ash sighed, thinking about it.  His mind raced, weighing the insanely 
small possibility of a future with Misty against the almost certain humiliation 
of discovering that she would rather impale herself on a blunt steel rod than go 
out with him.  "Tell you what; I'll ask her if," he held up a finger for 
emphasis, "IF, I don't have a date by Wednesday, AND if she doesn't have a date 
by Wednesday.  Okay?"

	Brock nodded.  He walked over to the stairs, cracking his knuckles as his 
bare feet padded across the tile floor.  "Sounds like a plan."  He gave Ash a 
friendly wave and a smile as he started up the stairs.  "Night Ash.  I'll give 
your regards to your nice, soft, comfy guest bed."  He chuckled with only a hint 
of malice in his voice, just enough to tease the League Champ.  "May visions of 
angry, abusive red-haired nymphs dance in your head." he misquoted and mangled a 
line from the old Christmas story.

	Ash shook his head.  "Good night."
*		*		*

**Sunday**

	Ash, Misty and Brock strolled lazily down the beaten path towards Pallet 
Town's market district.  Pikachu rode atop Ash's reversed League cap, taking in 
the beautiful sunshine.  There was not a lot they could do today besides window-
shop, since most of the stores would be closed until after the weekend.  Still, 
it was worth taking a look around, if only to kill time.  Anything was better 
than staying at the house, waiting and waiting, feeling the anxiety eat away at 
them.

	The silence was starting to get to Misty.  Neither Ash nor Brock had said 
a single word since setting foot outside of the Ketchum residence.  Was there 
something going on that she didn't know about?  She decided to end the silence.  
"It's a lovely day."  Brock nodded, grunting his agreement.  Ash continued to 
lead the way, oblivious to her, and to the favorable conditions.  Misty tried 
again.  "Maybe after we go into town, we can find a nice spot for a picnic.  I'm 
sure your mom would like to come along, Ash."  He glanced back at her without 
slowing down, giving her an indifferent shrug.  She could feel the redness 
climbing into her face as she grew angrier, more frustrated.  Maybe he just 
needed a good ol' fashioned 'whooping'.  The idea was sounding better by the 
minute.

	Ash's mind was racing as they rounded the bend, the town's commercial 
district a quarter mile away.  The glimpse of irritation he had caught on 
Misty's face hadn't gone unnoticed.  Was she mad at him?  What had he done?  It 
didn't matter right now, he had bigger things to worry about than Ms. 
Temperamental fuming behind him.  Where in God's name was he going to find a 
date on such short notice?  The obvious place to start his search would be with 
all the girls he knew.  How many did he know?  One.  With that option spent, he 
went to Choice Two: There must be some girl out there who would want to go to 
the dance with him.  He just had to find her.  Maybe it was time his position as 
champion of Indigo league started to pay off...

	"Looks like we're blasting off again!!!" the familiar, but unexpected, cry 
rang out, interrupting both Ash and Misty's silent musings and bringing the 
teenage trio's attention skyward.  A small bead of light twinkled in the clear 
sky, like a careening comet marring the soft blue with a flash of white as it 
soared above their heads.  As it drew closer it was plain to see that it was no 
celestial fragment, but instead a triplet of airborne travelers.  Their path 
took a dip back towards the earth as gravity got the better of them, sending 
them straight into the ground with a terrific crash not ten feet away from where 
Ash stood.

	"That lousy kid!  Why couldn't he just hand over his Pokémon like a good 
little twerp?" James moaned as he hauled his battered carcass out of the newly 
formed crater.  "I feel like a bus just ran over me."

	Meowth squawked in pain from underneath the blue-haired imbecile.  "How do 
you think we feel?  We're underneath ya!"  He desperately clawed at James, 
trying to get the Rocketeer to move faster.  "Get off, get off!"

	Jessie's method was much more effective than Meowth's; she simply shoved 
James up out of the hole, then climbed out after him.  "We'll get him next 
time."

	Ash scratched his head with puzzlement.  Misty, momentarily forgetting her 
anger towards her indifferent friend, walked up behind him.  "Something wrong?" 
she asked.

	"Not really.  I've just never seen it in reverse, that's all." Ash said, 
smiling.  Brock chuckled at this, which caught the attention of the Rockets 
three.

	"It's the twerps!" Jessie cried.  She leapt to her feet, hand going inside 
her jacket in search of a Pokéball.  "This time, you kids will fry!"

	"Uh, Jessie?" James took out his own battered Pokéballs, holding them in 
front of him.  "Our Pokémon were already beaten by the twerp's friend, 
remember?"

	"Friend?" Ash mused, smiling.  "You guys must've run into Richie on his 
way to Indigo Plateau.  Looks like he came out on top."  Now Misty chuckled 
along with Brock, unable to help it.

	"Ohhhhhhh!" Meowth burned with anger.  Still, it wasn't enough to warrant 
another fight, one that they had absolutely no chance of winning after their 
last defeat.  Sometimes it didn't pay to be the bad guys.  "We'll deal with you 
later!"  He grabbed Jessie and James and ran off.

	"We're blasting off again...again!"
*		*		*

	"Will you go out with me?"

	The girl looked at Brock with a mixture of disdain and curiosity.  Sure, 
he was handsome enough; a great build, rich tan, and a nice (if bizarre) head of 
hair.  But there was something about him, something she couldn't quite place her 
finger on...desperation, that was it.  He was desperate.  He was swimming with 
the stink of panic.  "Um, no.  I don't go out with freaky strangers with freaky 
hair, sorry."  She pivoted on her heel and walked off, making sure to tease him 
with a sway of the hips.

	Brock let a breath of frustration escape his lips.  That made twenty-three 
in a row, but who was counting?  Their loss.  Dauntless, Brock scanned the thin 
crowds and spotted another potential winner.  He nudged Ash, who was standing 
next to him, cradling Pikachu.  The poor power-packed Pokémon was pooped after a 
day of poking around the shopping centers.  "What do you think of her?" he asked 
Ash.

	Ash looked up slowly.  He was tired too, and beyond caring at this point.  
It had been a while since he had been to Pallet Town, and even longer since he 
had tried to get a date here.  Actually, he had never tried to get a date here.  
It hadn't been an issue before now, and it seemed that all the cute girls 
already had boyfriends here.  It didn't help that he was still annoyingly short.  
If he had Brock's height and build, he might get somewhere.  Apparently, the 
'short, dark and handsome' look wasn't in right now.  "Yeah, she's okay, I 
guess."

	"You wanna take her, or should I?"

	Ash shook his head.  "No, you go ahead.  Good luck."

	Brock grinned, strutting off with just enough swagger in his step to make 
him wobble.  Ash couldn't help but grin for a split second.  He had to admit, 
failure wasn't in Brock vocabulary...at least when it came to women.  He wished 
he could be that confident, but after five failures his own self-assurances were 
starting to wear thin.  Ash hadn't tried to use his position as Indigo Master 
yet.  Truth be told, he would rather win this one as Ash Ketchum; teenage Romeo 
and not Ash Ketchum; child prodigy.   He looked up at Pikachu, clinging to his 
inverted cap sitting atop his head.  "So what'cha think, Pikachu?  Think 
anyone'll want to go out with a guy like me?"  Pikachu winked at him, giving him 
a 'Pika!' and a claw's up.  It helped a little bit, but not much.  His vision 
drifted over to Misty, who was looking into the window of a darkened dress shop, 
long since closed for the weekend.

	Misty.  The one person...girl...he wanted to ask the most.  The one he 
didn't dare try to ask.  He felt like he was thirteen again, trying to ask her 
out for the very first time.  Blast it all, this was the type of thing that was 
supposed to get easier with age!  He was already fifteen, how much older did he 
need to be?
*		*		*

**Monday**

	"What do you-"

	"I don't care."

	Misty scowled, putting her hands on her hips.  The dresses she held in 
either hand slumped to the floor in her momentary lapse of frustration.  "Ash, 
you aren't being very helpful."

	Ash groaned, clutching his head.  "I don't care.  After sixty-three 
dresses, I can't even *bring* myself to care, okay?"  Pikachu was lying on top 
of his hat, batting at a loose lock of Ash's hair with extreme boredom.  It 
'Cha'ed softly, moaning.

	"It hasn't been sixty-three, you big liar."

	"Wanna bet?  I've been counting."  He cracked his knuckles, trying to 
avoid her glaring eyes.  It didn't work.  Somehow it never did.

	"I'll ask nicely one more time, Ash Ketchum." Her voice was slow and 
deadly serious.  She held up the one in her left hand; it was a sparkling green, 
low-cut at the collar and had a slit all the way up the thigh.  "This one," She 
held up the other; an aquamarine beauty with a high collar and a long, flowing 
skirt that hung by her ankles.  "Or this one?"

	Ash looked straight into her sea-blue eyes and chose his words carefully, 
deciding upon the kindest answer he could think of after six hours of shopping 
for dresses.  "I-don't-*care*.  Whatever *you* think will be just *fine*, okay?"

	She rolled her eyes.  "Useless.  Where's Brock?"
*		*		*

	"So anyway, there'd be a free dinner in it for you also...and you'd get to 
meet some of the most influential people in the Indigo League!"

	The brunette raised an eyebrow at Brock.  "So let me get this straight; 
for twenty bucks, dinner, dancing, and meeting a whole bunch of important 
people, all I have to do is go out with you?"  Brock nodded eagerly.  "So, in 
essence, you'd be paying me off?"  Brock nodded a little more slowly this time, 
wary.  "So, I'd be like a prostitute?"

	"What?  No, no no no no!" 

	His dissuasions came too late to stop her hand as she slapped him hard, 
snapping his head around.  "Pig." she sniffed as she strutted off, leaving him 
babbling and apologizing desperately.  His hands dropped to his sides, the 
corners of his mouth taking a similar dip.  How many was that?  Forty-five?  But 
who was counting, right?

	"Brock!  Hey Brock!"

	Turning around, the Rock Master spotted Ash and Misty running out of one 
of the clothing stores to meet him at the mall's tiny food court.  Pikachu clung 
to Ash's hat, trying desperately to stay aboard as the young Champ bounced up 
and down.  "Hey guys.  What's the good word?"

	"The word is 'taste', and I need yours." Misty quipped before Ash could 
get a word in edgewise.  "Happy Boy over here doesn't want to help me pick out a 
dress anymore, so I thought maybe I could use your excellent judgement."  She 
gave him a sunny smile, clasping her hands together.  "Please?" she added in a 
singsong voice.

	Brock frowned.  "Can't you see I'm busy trying to get a date."  His eyes 
twitched.  "I swear, I'm getting offers left and right here.  It's crazy!"  He 
whistled innocently, rocking back and forth on his heels.

	The female component of their group rolled her eyes.  "Fine, you and Ash 
can stay out here and pick up girls.  I have some shopping to do."  She placed a 
hand on her hip.  "I'm sure Pikachu will want to help me."  She pulled Pikachu 
off of Ash's head and placed it over her shoulder.  The tiny yellow mouse 
squeaked, waving its claws and trying to wriggle free.  Had it been anyone but 
Misty, the Pokémon probably would have fried her.

	 Brock's eyes darted over to a young group of girls, none of them more 
than seventeen years old.  They were standing by the vending machines, talking 
and laughing, showing each other what they had squandered their money on.  The 
Rock Master nudged Ash, pointing them out.  "I'll bet I get at least one out of 
that whole group. Think so?"

	Ash smiled smugly.  It was time to try out his title.  "Actually, Brocko, 
I think I'll take this one."  Brock stepped aside, grinning and waving his hands 
politely.  Taking as deep a breath as possible, Ash strode over to the group 
with his best swagger and his biggest smile.  "Hi there, ladies."

	They regarded him with curiosity.  At least, Ash hoped it was curiosity, 
because it certainly wasn't interest.  One of them, a tall blonde with a nose 
ring, spoke first.  "And you would be?"

	"Here goes." Ash thought.  His insides were tumbling with nervousness.  
Outside, though, he remained cool as a cucumber on ice.  He examined his nails 
with a fair amount of boredom, trying to act nonchalant.  "I'm Ash Ketchum.  I 
thought maybe one of you ladies would like the pleasure of accompanying me to a 
dance this Thursday."  Hopefully, his name would be enough.

	It wasn't.  "Ash WHO?" the blonde asked, confused.  She didn't appear to 
be the intelligent type.  "Like, am I supposed to know who you are?"  She stared 
at him, beginning to grow amused.

	Okay, they didn't recognize his name.  That's okay; once they figured out 
just how important he was, they would be begging for a date.  "You know, Ash 
Ketchum.  The Indigo Champion."

	"Indigo?  Isn't that some sort of, like, color, like purple or something?" 
the blonde said with distaste as she scratched her nose.  Her friends snickered 
at Ash's expense.

	"Indigo.  As in the Pokémon League?  The biggest League in the entire 
world?"

	"Oh.  Sorry, I only date, like, football players."

	Ash blinked.  "Well, how about the rest-"

	"Soccer players."

	"Uh..."

	"Basketball players."

	"Tennis players."

	"Swimmers."

	The last one didn't bother to make an excuse to expend Ash's feelings.  
"Like, why on earth would anyone want to date a skinny runt like you anyhow?"  
They all laughed, picking up their bags.  He could still hear their laughter and 
snide comments as they left.

	"Poor little twerp."

	"Being Champion of a color must be tough."

	"I didn't even see him *wearing* any Indigo."

	"Hey, I, like, thought Indigo was more of a pink."

	Ash's head dropped nearly to his chest.  He could feel the tears of 
embarrassment stinging in his eyes, but he refused to let them out.  Willing 
back a river of pain and winding his hands into tight fists, he walked back to 
where Brock stood.  His old friend slapped him on the back, trying to comfort 
him, but Ash just smiled.  "They were washing their hair on Thursday."

	"All of them?"

	"Yeah, you know; one of those girl thing, I guess."
*		*		*

	Ash's mother was there to greet them as they trudged into the house, their 
heads hung with dismay.  Pikachu seemed to be the only one of them with a little 
happiness left in his heart; he leapt into Mrs. Ketchum's arms and purred as she 
began to gently stroke the Pokémon's back. "So how was your day?"

	"Terrible." Misty groaned, rubbing her aching back.  Seven different 
stores and nearly a hundred dresses, and not one single dress that looked good.  
Either they made her look like a twig, or they made her look like a Snorlax with 
a glandular problem.  "Worst day ever, hands down."

	Brock was much less verbal about it, answering with a grunt.  Ninety-seven 
rejections...but who was counting?  Still, if this kept up, Pallet Town would 
run out of women very quickly.

	Ash didn't even bother answering.  The humiliation that the heartless 
group of teenagers had left him with still stung.  He was feeling about as low 
as he ever could.  Things couldn't possibly get any worse.

	"MIME!!!"  Mr. Mime, armed with his broom, dropped unseen from above and 
began attacking Ash.  Apparently the trainer was too dirty for Mimie's tastes.  
Ash sputtered, backing up wildly.  "Mime mime miiiiime!"

	"Okay, okay already, I'll take my shoes off!"  He slipped out of his 
sneakers quickly, shoving the Pokémon off.  Misty and Brock followed suit, not 
wishing the same thing to happen to them.  Ash rubbed his eyes wearily, trudging 
up for his room.  He and Misty had come to a sort of agreement after his long 
night on the hard couch; as long as he wasn't a pervert, he could sleep in his 
own room.  It sounded fair.

	Mrs. Ketchum made an amazingly insightful observation. "You guys don't 
look so good."  She put Pikachu back on the floor and began feeling their 
foreheads.  "Maybe you should take it easy tomorrow."

	"Too much to do." Misty muttered, half asleep already.  "Gotta find a 
dress.  Gotta get my nails done.  Gotta find a hairdresser."  Her head nodded 
forward, and she began to snore, asleep on her feet.  Ash managed to catch her 
as she tilted forward, stopping her rapid descent.  

	Mrs. Ketchum shook her head.  "Poor dear.  Ash, would you...?"

	He sighed.  "Sure, no problem."  He grunted, starting up the stairs with 
his slumbering encumbrance.  "Maybe you're right, Mom.  A break would probably 
do us some good."  He glanced down at Brock from atop the stairs.  "Feel like 
going to see Professor Oak tomorrow?"  Brock shrugged, nodding.  "Great."  He 
dragged Misty into the bedroom, whistling for Pikachu.  His Pokémon hurtled up 
the stairs and made it into the room before Ash shut the door.

	"Good night!" Ash's mom called up to them.
*		*		*

**Tuesday**

	"Good morning!" Professor Oak smiled as Ash and Brock entered the lab.  
They were both drenched by the storm outside, which had appeared out of blue 
skies without warning.  Pikachu leapt to the floor and began shaking the water 
out of its coat.  Pikachu didn't mind rainstorms most of the time, but this one 
hadn't even produced any lightning, the blasted thing!  Ash took off his hat, 
mopping up the water on his forehead with the back of his gloved hand.  Then he 
did a double take; Oak had a pair of towels and a nice serving of hot tea ready 
for the two of them, as well as some crackers for Pikachu.  He hadn't even told 
Oak that they were coming.  How did the old guy do that?

	"How nice of you to visit me, gentlemen, especially when I know things are 
a bit hectic for you." the Professor continued, handing them each a cup of tea.  
He led them into the living area, choosing to sit in an old wingback chair.  Ash 
and Brock sat down on a weathered couch, while Pikachu chose to stay by Ash's 
feet, munching on the biscuits Oak had generously provided.  "So tell me, how 
goes the preparations for our little Master's Ball?"

	Ash decided to lie through his teeth.  "Couldn't be better, Professor!  
Everything is taken care of, right down to the last detail."

	"Having troubles, I see."

	Ash shook his head.  It never paid to try to pull a fast one on old Doc 
Oak, so why even bother trying?  "Truth be told, Professor, we're helpless and 
hopeless."  Brock nodded in agreement, sipping his tea. His face contorted with 
disgust, and he quietly set the tea down.  If Oak noticed, he didn't say 
anything.  Ash set his own tea down, deciding to trust Brock's palate rather 
than risk his own.  "Dates are scarce, tuxedoes don't come cheap, and I still 
have to find a way to show up G-" he stopped, remembering exactly whom he was 
talking to.

	Oak smiled.  "Don't worry about my grandson; I know he has a bit of an 
ego, but you're not in competition with him."  Ash thought otherwise, but kept 
silent.  "And as for the rest of your troubles," Oak continued, "Perhaps you're 
trying too hard.  Sometimes it's best to leave these things up to the fates."  
His eyes sparkled.  "That reminds me.  I recently acquired a pair of items that 
you two might be interested in."  He called out to one of his many lab 
assistants.  "Gracie, could you bring in the painting, and the book too?  Thank 
you Gracie."

	Brock's jaw dropped as the assistant walked in, an oversized picture frame 
underneath her arm and a large, moldy book in hand.  He had never seen this 
assistant before; he would certainly have remembered someone so beautiful.  She 
had curly, raven black hair that cascaded just past her shoulders.  Her pale 
ivory skin shone in the dim light, offsetting her crimson lips and chocolate 
brown eyes.  She was thin, but not skinny, with a pair of long, slender legs.  
Brock was out of his seat quick as lightning, rushing over to her.  "Here, let 
me help you with those."

	"Oh, thank you." the woman said gratefully.  Ash and Brock cringed; her 
voice was awful!  It sounded like a high-pitched squawk and was worse than nails 
on a chalkboard.  It was almost as if someone was trying to kill an air-raid 
siren, only it wouldn't die.  Ash wondered how anything natural could sound that 
terrible.  "That was getting heavy." her grating voice continued.  He wondered 
how anyone on Pokémon Island could have acquired a Brooklyn accent.  Only one 
other person he knew of talked like that, and he was a cat!  She took the 
painting from Brock and set it against the wall next to the Professor, while 
Brock placed the book gently on the coffee table.  Gracie headed for the exit, 
taking one last look back to bat her eyelashes at Brock before leaving the room.

	Brock was petrified with shock.  "Uh...excuse me, please."  He bolted from 
the room like a bullet after Gracie.  Ash and Professor Oak chuckled together 
good-naturedly.  Then Ash happened to glance at the painting that Oak had been 
intent on them seeing, and froze.

	It was a woman... a beautiful woman.  Her jade green eyes seemed to 
radiate a multitude of emotion; confidence, serenity, warmth, and love all 
wrapped into one peaceful gaze.  A thick band of raven hair cascaded past her 
shoulders and down towards her ankles, swaying in an unseen wind that tossed the 
edges of her clinging, translucent white gown.  "It's her..." Ash murmured.  
Inch for inch, it was the woman from his dreams.  It was unsettling, like seeing 
a snapshot of his subconscious smacked right in front of him.

	"Do you like her?" Oak took a sip of his own tea, then set the glass down.  
"I picked it up for quite a sum at a recent auction in Viridian City."  He 
crossed his ankles and leaned back, admiring the painting.  "It's the work of an 
ancient Pokémopolitan prophet by the name of Ma'kala...a blind prophet, in fact.  
He also wrote these."  He held up the book sitting on the coffee table.  "The 
Foretelling of Ma'kala."  The old professor chuckled.  "A bit foreboding, if you 
ask me."

	"Professor..." Ash tried to speak around his own amazement, "Professor, do 
you know...who she is?"

	"Hmm?"  Oak looked up from the moldy book.  "Oh, yes, of course.  This is 
his interpretation of the legendary Pokégoddess."

	"Poké-goddess?"

	Professor Oak nodded.  "That's right.  The Pokémopolitans believed that 
she descended from the heavens and created all Pokémon.  She was a deity of the 
ancient Pokémopolitan race, watching over them and their empire. "

	Ash looked harder at the painting.  The woman-the Pokégoddess?-was painted 
onto a pure white background, which had acquired a fine coating of grime over 
the years.  However, there was one other thing he couldn't quite understand 
about the painting; hanging above the Goddess's right shoulder was a series of 
six dark red circles.  There was one in the center surrounded by the other five 
in a pentagram fashion.  If he looked closely, he could make out ruins written 
in deep black letters on them, but he couldn't read them.  They were in no 
language he had ever seen.  "Professor, what are those circles?"

	"What?"

	"Those six red circles, the ones with the funny writing on them.  What do 
they mean?"

	Oak stared hard at the painting, scrutinizing the portion Ash was talking 
about.  "I don't rightly know, Ash.  I'll have to look for its mentioning in the 
texts.  There are some very peculiar things in this book, you know."  He leaned 
back, cradling the book as he gently opened the pages.  "A lot of nonsense about 
the Apocalypse, and the like."

	Ash's head whipped around so fast it was a wonder he didn't develop neck 
problems.  "The WHAT?"

	"You know, the Apocalypse; the end of the world."  Oak chuckled, flipping 
through the pages.  "I've only managed to translate a bit of it so far.  Let me 
see...ah, here it is!"  He cleared his throat and began to recite.

	"A black power will come, blanketing the world in evil darkness.  The 
Children of Evil will awaken, giving rise to disaster.  Their death will signify 
the coming of the Despised One, whose power will bring a terrible fate upon the 
world.  The Dark Mortal shall unlock the Demon Ball, freeing the fearsome wrath 
of the beast.  They who defeated the Children of Darkness, the Disciple, chosen 
of the Goddess, will face the Despised One.  He alone will determine the fate of 
the world...destruction, or redemption."

	Ash was ashen, pale with fear.  He wouldn't have believed a word of it, 
but the woman...the Pokégoddess herself had told him the exact same thing in 
fewer words, with fewer details.  He felt a chill run down his spine.  All this 
destiny talk was creeping him out.  "Boy," his voice quavered, "I'd hate to be 
this Disciple guy.  Sounds like he's going to be toast."  

	Oak laughed.  "Even if this Disciple person exists-which I highly doubt-he 
would have the entire power of the Pokégoddess behind him.  I hardly think 
anyone with the power of Fate itself would be incompetent enough to lose a mere 
fight, Ash."

	Ash rubbed his chin thoughtfully.  Maybe this whole destiny thing could 
help him.  "Fate, eh?  Hmmmm..." A brilliant plan began to form in his head.
*		*		*

**Wednesday**

	The alarm clock droned noisily, waking Misty from the perfect dream.  She 
had been sweeping across the ballroom floor in Ash's arms, leaning her head 
against his chest.  Then Ash had spilled punch on her dress.  Well, almost 
perfect was better than nothing.  She rolled over, savoring the feel of the soft 
downy bed.  She would have to compliment Ash on the comfort of his top bunk; it 
was doing wonders for her back.  She climbed down and tapped the cutoff for the 
alarm, yawning and stretching.  What a great night of sleep!  Now it was time 
for some mid-morning shopping.  Her eyes flicked to the clock's face.

	Twelve-thirty!

	 "Oh my GOD!"  She hastily pulled on a pair of pants, struggling 
momentarily with the belt, then rushed out of the room and down the stairs.  
Mrs. Ketchum was sitting at the kitchen counter, humming as she sipped a mug of 
coffee and read the local newspaper.  Misty ran right past her, making her way 
for the door.  "Oh God, How could I have slept so late?  I set the alarm for 
seven!"

	"Hold it right there, missy!" Mrs. Ketchum's voice commanded, halting 
Misty in her tracks.  "I very much doubt that you've had a decent meal in the 
past three days, so you're going to sit down and eat something right now before 
you rush off."  She laid out a plate and a glass, then went to the 'fridge to 
rummage for food.

	"But-"

	"Sit!" Ash's mother brought back a pitcher of milk and a stack of cold 
hotcakes, which she promptly placed in the microwave to reheat.  Misty 
reluctantly took her seat, shifting uncomfortably.  "Ash and Brock wanted to get 
an early start today, they're already down at the shopping center.  You can 
catch up to them after you've had some breakfast."

	"Mrs. Ketchum, I really appreciate that you worry about me, but there's so 
much I have to do...I still haven't found a dress, and I need to make an 
appointment at the Lé Nails Fantastic, and-"

	"Convince Ash to go to the dance with you?" Ash's mother added casually as 
she pulled the hotcakes from the microwave and placed them on Misty's plate.  
Misty's jaw dropped, her mouth opening and closing as she tried, unsuccessfully, 
to form words.  Mrs. Ketchum smiled at her, handing her the maple syrup.  "It's 
all right, dear.  Brock filled me in on the whole situation last night."

	Misty gratefully accepted the syrup, heaping a generous helping onto her 
stack of pancakes.  "Well, I guess I need to add 'Murder Brock' to my to-do 
list, don't I?"  She began to scoop mouthfuls of pancake in, hardly bothering to 
chew.  It was amazingly similar to the way Ash ate; rapidly, without thought of 
cleanliness or appearance.  Misty must have unknowingly picked up on his bad 
habits as time had gone by.  

	Mrs. Ketchum sighed, walking around behind Misty.  She produced a brush 
and began to stroke Misty's hair, untangling the horrific mess atop the Water 
Mistress's head.  "Don't be so hard on him, dear.  After all, we're both looking 
out for your best interests."  Misty's hair now brushed, she pulled out a pair 
of small hairclips; one for her ponytail in the back, and the other for the 
small lock she kept by her temple.

	Now it was Misty's turn to sigh.  She pushed the remains of breakfast away 
and began helping Ash's mother arrange her hair.  "What's the point, really?  
Ash and I are through, there's no way he'd take me back.  Not after the way I 
dumped him."  Ash's mom raised an eyebrow at this, but kept silent.  "Besides, 
if he was going to ask me, he would have done it by now.  I'm just a loud, 
obnoxious, nagging, skinny redhead to him, a friend at best."

	"Misty," Ash's mother put the finishing touches on Misty's ponytail, "Have 
I ever steered you wrong?"

	"Well...no."

	"Then trust me on this one; he'll say yes."  She stepped back, getting a 
good look at Misty.  "There now.  That should do for a day of shopping.  We'll 
figure something a bit better for tomorrow night.  Run along now, you've got too 
much to do to waste your time listening to me prattle on."  She began to clean 
up the remnants of Misty's breakfast.

	Misty nodded.  "And Mrs. Ketchum?"

	"Yes, dear?"

	"Thank you."  Misty stood on her tiptoes and kissed Ash's mom on the 
cheek, then ran out the door.

	Ash's mom smiled.  "You're welcome, Misty."  She sighed contently, then 
began mopping up the counter.  Mr. Mime appeared out of nowhere to aid in the 
cleanup, vacuum in hand.  "Oh, so now you're awake too.  I suppose you'll be 
wanting breakfast, won't you?" Mimie nodded vigorously, laughing happily.  
"Well, you're in luck; I think there's just enough pancakes left for the both of 
us."  She walked back over to the 'fridge.  Cleanup could wait another few 
minutes, after all.
*		*		*

	"Ash, I still don't get it..." Brock scratched his head, holding the small 
blindfold.  Pikachu sat perched atop his head, trying to get comfortable among 
all of the sharp, pointy spikes conglomerated among his follicles.  It was 
certainly different from Ash's hat; the electric Pokémon hoped that it would 
only be temporary.

	Ash grinned.  "Brock, I know it sounds stupid-"

	"And dangerous-" Brock interjected,

	Ash ignored his friend, continuing on, "but believe me, Fate is smiling 
over Ash Ketchum like you wouldn't believe!" He pointed across the way to the 
small shopping complex.  The place was jam-packed with women off all kinds, 
scrambling and clawing at each other to get in.  "Look, Marcy's is having a sale 
today, right?"

	"Right..."

	"So that place is filled to capacity with all sorts of beautiful women, 
right?"

	"Right..."

	Ash beamed, proud of the plan he had worked out.  "So, it's simple.  You 
tie that blindfold onto me.  Then, I walk over there, totally blind.  If destiny 
does its job, the first person I bump into will be who I was meant to go to the 
Master's Ball with.  Simple, no?"

	"Simple minded, you mean.  Ash, are you sure about this?"

	Ash turned around defiantly, pointing to his skull.  "Less talking, more 
tying.  Come on, chop-chop!"  Brock shrugged, wrapping the handkerchief around 
Ash's eyes, then knotting it tight.  "All right, I'm good to go.  Now, just 
point me in the right direction."

	Brock sighed.  "Ash, wouldn't it just be better to ask Misty?"

	"Brock, there's no chance in blazes that she'd say yes."  Ash would have 
much rather taken Misty to the dance, but the odds of her agreeing were one in a 
million.  "To her, I'm just some over-lucked, no talent, brainless, loud oaf."  
His voice was sad for just a split second before he recovered.  "C'mon, let's do 
this."

	Brock grabbed Ash's shoulders, taking careful aim.  He saw a particularly 
beautiful bunch standing just on the edge of the frenzy and decided that it 
would be as good as any.  "You sure about this, Ash?"

	"For the last time, yes!  And hey, if this works, maybe you can try it 
too."

	Brock smiled dreamily, releasing Ash.  "Sorry, I've already got a date."  
Gracie, Oak's beautiful lab assistant had said 'yes' to his proposal...to go to 
the dance, that is.  He still couldn't believe it; it was like a dream come 
true.

	Ash shrugged and began to strut off, totally without sight.  "Your loss."  
His feet pounded on the pavement as he swaggered on.  "Poor fool, I'll be 
swaying with my soul-mate while he's stuck with that gutter-voice banshee." he 
chuckled under his breath once he was sure Brock was out of earshot.

	A few of the girls regarded Ash curiously as he came nearer.  As bad luck 
would have it, Brock had pointed him at the same group that had rejected the 
League Champ two nights before.  The one with the nose ring elbowed her friend.  
"Say, like, isn't that the one Indigo guy?"

	"Yeah, I think so.  What's Mr. Purple-Pants doing?"

	The nose-ringed blonde scratched her head.  "I dunno, but he's coming this 
way.  Maybe we'd better give him some space.  He doesn't, like, look like he's 
looking where he's, like, going."  The entire group stepped back in unison, 
allowing Ash a clear path past them.  Unwittingly, Ash walked past them without 
knowing how close he had come.  He walked on, moving past the shopping center 
and out onto the sidewalks of downtown Pallet.  Brock and Pikachu, seeing that 
Ash's plan had failed miserably, chased after him, shouting and calling out his 
name.

	"Hmmm...this is taking longer than I thought." Ash murmured, putting one 
foot in front of the other.  He came dangerously close to being sideswiped by a 
passing bicyclist that yelled at him.

	"Get off the sidewalk, you freakin' maniac!"

	"Hey, I'm walking here!" It must have been someone's jealous boyfriend, 
Ash decided.  Oh well, that just meant one single girl eliminated from hundreds.  
His odds were still pretty good.

	Brock sprinted after his sightless companion, Pikachu hot on his heels.  
For a blind guy, Ash could move pretty fast!  Where did he..."There!" Brock 
shouted, pointing.  The blood drained from his face as he saw where Ash was 
heading; Main Street, Pallet Town's most bustling channel for traffic was about 
to swallow their friend up whole.  "Oh my GOD!  Pikachu, can you stop him with a 
Thunderwave from here?"  Ash would be mad, but they could afford to weather some 
of Ash's rage if it meant saving his life.

	Pikachu squinted, then shook its head sadly.  "Pika...pikachaaa." It 
trilled negatively, looking up at Brock.  Powerful as it was, Pikachu just 
couldn't push a Thunderwave across that span of distance.  Besides, some poor 
pedestrian might step in the way and become paralyzed.  Then their problems 
would be doubled.

	"Too late!" Brock screamed, pointing out at the street.  Ash had already 
stepped out into traffic.

	Ash, oblivious to his lethal surroundings, trudged on.  "What is the 
freaking holdup?" he grumbled as cars, busses and motorbikes roared past him at 
speeds better than fifty miles and hour.  "You'd think I would have bumped into 
something by now."  A double-decker bus honked as it sped by, barely swerving in 
time to avoid crushing the youthful Ketchum.  "What's all that buzzing, anyway?"  
He looked around, tempted to pull off the blindfold.  "Must be some killer 
mosquitoes, or something.  It's that time of year, I guess."  He shrugged and 
continued on, already halfway across the intersection.

	Brock stood on the roadside, covering his narrow eyes in horror.  "Tell me 
when it's over, Pikachu.  I can't bear to see Ash turned into street pizza."  
Pikachu scolded him, it's own claws covering its tiny brown-black eyes tightly.  
"Oh God, oh God, we can't let him die twice in one year!  Mrs. Ketchum is going 
to have a stroke!" he moaned.

	Miraculously, Ash managed to cross the highway with little more than the 
curse of foul-mouthed drivers ringing in his ears and a coating of exhaust fumes 
dusting his clothes.  "Boy, there sure are some hotheads at the mall today..." 
He plodded down the sidewalk, reaching the corner of the next street.  As chance 
would have it, something-or rather, someone-ran full-bore into him, knocking the 
both of them down.  "Ah-ha!" He ripped off the blindfold, ready to greet his 
'mystery date'.  "Hel-" he cut himself off, spying a shock of familiar red hair 
adorning the crown of the crashed girl.  "Oh."

	Misty sat up, coughing and dusting herself off.  "Oh, jeez, I'm terribly 
sorr-" she too stopped as she realized who it was.  "Eeee..." She got up, 
placing her hands on her slender hips.  "Ash Ketchum, what in blazes are you 
doing here?  And what's with the cloth?"

	Ash got up, looking down at the blindfold in his hand.  "Well, I was-" He 
stopped for a moment, playing back what he had just tried inside his head; he 
couldn't tell Misty what he was doing.  She would never let him live this down 
if she knew.  Now that he thought about it, it 'was' a stupid plan.  Why hadn't 
Brock tried to stop him?  It was Brock's job to make sure he didn't make a fool 
of himself, blast it!  "Uh, nothing."  Where was Brock, anyway?  And Pikachu, 
for that matter; they should have been here by now.  He looked around, taking in 
his surroundings.  "Hey, this isn't the mall."

	"Good deduction, Sherlock."  Misty rolled her eyes, shaking her head.  "I 
was just on my way there now.  There's a major sale at Marcy's, and I want to 
get there before it's picked clean."  Her expression softened just a bit.  
"So..."

	"Yeah..." Ash nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.

	"Found anyone to-"

	"No, no, not yet."

	Her hands folded behind her back as she looked down at the ground.  "Me 
neither...Too busy with other stuff, and-"

	"Yeah, tell me about it."

	The two of them stood in uncomfortable silence.  Neither of them could 
stand to look at the other, almost ashamed to even bring it up.  Ash finally 
worked up the courage, forcing the rising bile down in his throat.  Right now he 
felt about two inches tall and half as brave.

	"Uh, so, do you wanna-"

	"Really?  I mean, uh-"

	"Oh, if you don't-"

	"No, that's be fine.  I mean, it's not like-"

	"Yeah." Ash laughed nervously.  There were another few uncomfortable 
moments of tense peace as neither one of them moved, still avoiding the other's 
eyes.

	"Well, I guess I'd better-" Misty started.

	"Yeah, okay."

	"See you tonight?"

	"Sure."

	Misty walked off hesitantly.  She barely avoided getting plowed down by 
Brock and Pikachu, who gave her a quick nod and wave before rushing over to Ash.  
Brock leaned against his knees and panted, trying to catch his breath.  "Ash, 
are you okay?" he managed to wheeze.  Poor Pikachu had to prop itself against 
Ash's leg until it regained enough oxygen to 'Pika'.

	Ash shrugged.  "I'm not sure what you guys are worried about, I'm fine.  
How'd I get here, anyway?"  Brock gritted and gnashed his teeth.  "Well, it 
doesn't matter anyhow.  Misty said yes."

	Brock blinked, pausing in his quest for full lungs.  "She said yes?  All 
right, that's great!"

	Ash shrugged.  "Didn't seem to happy about it.  Guess it shows how high I 
rank, huh?"  He sat down on the curb.  "I don't get it, why didn't it work?  
Destiny should've placed my fated date right in front of me.  Instead," he 
snorted, "I ended up smacking into Misty."  The trainer sighed.  "There's Fate 
for you."

	The corners of Brock's mouth twitched upwards.  "Yeah, what a shame."
*		*		*

**Thursday**
(The Big Day)

	Misty stared, unblinking, into the reflection of the mirror.  She stood 
atop the Ketchum's shag tub mat inside of their bathroom, letting the soft 
fibers snuggle up in between her toes.  A soaked, sopping blue towel clung to 
her figure, trapping in water rather than soaking it up.  It made her skin feel 
clammy and cold against the morning chill that permeated the house.  Her hair 
was tangled and disarrayed, having been hastily dried with the towel that she 
now wore.  She stared at the mirror from across the sink, past the steam coating 
the reflective surface.  Her eyes probed every feature, every detail, every inch 
of the reflection.  Day in, day out, it was always the same person staring back 
at her.  But not today; who was this person?  

She looked deeper, peering at her.  The girl staring back at her had orange-red 
hair, just like a carrot.  She hated carrots; not only did they taste terrible, 
but also were a disgusting, hideous color.  Dull blue eyes that hung on either 
side of her snubby, pointy nose like a pair of ugly aqua orbs.  What a nose, 
too!  It was ridiculous, almost comical, the way it curled up just slightly at 
the end.  Her gaze went down further, taking her past the neckline.  Her body, 
what a joke; it just couldn't seem to make up its mind; was she a girl, or was 
she a woman?  Somewhere in-between, awkwardly frozen like some half-done 
sculpture left to gather moss by a disgusted, lazy artist.  Her body was a big, 
heart-wrenching joke, funny to the entire world but that poor little girl.  What 
would Ash have called her?  What was that word he always loved to use?  Scrawny.  
A big, scrawny joke.

This girl was new to Misty; she didn't know this stranger, who stared back at 
her through the mists of the mirror.  She was ugly.  She had no confidence, 
because she didn't have enough skill or talent to be confident about.  
Everything about her was wrong, all wrong.  That nose, those eyes, that 
hair...the poor dear didn't stand a chance.  Misty pitied her deeply.  There was 
only one person she pitied more:

Herself.
*		*		*

"Misty!" Ash's fist pounded on the door.  He shivered, trying to wrap his 
bathrobe tighter around himself.  "Will you hurry up already?  You've been in 
the bathroom for an hour!  I gotta GO!  MISTY!"  Pikachu stood next to his feet, 
chattering with laughter.  It imitated Ash's 'dance', chuckling at his expense.  
"Oh, you think that's funny, do you?" he nudged the Pokémon with his toe, poking 
it into Pikachu's side.  Pikachu jumped, rubbing its ribs indignantly and 
grumbling at him.  Ash turned his attention back to the door.  "Sometime before 
the turn of the CENTURY, Misty!"

Ash's mom shook her head, smiling.  "Yell a little louder, dear.  I don't think 
all our neighbors can hear you just yet." she quipped as she ascended the 
stairs, tossing a bath towel at Ash's head.  He pulled it off of his face and 
dumped it on Pikachu, who was laughing even harder at him now.  "Is Misty all 
right in there?"

"Yeah, she's fine.  I heard her singing in the shower a little earlier." Ash's 
eyes became dreamy as he recalled Misty's beautiful performance of 'I Want To 
Tell You' while she was bathing.  He brought himself back to reality, resuming 
his pounding on the bathroom door.  "She'd be a lot better if she let OTHER 
PEOPLE USE THE BATHROOM!"

He was totally unprepared when Misty opened the door.  He had to stop his fist 
in mid-air, lest he pound Misty's face in.  With the way the corners of her 
mouth hung down, a major contusion might have been an improvement on her 
expression.  Her eyes were cold, melancholy to the utmost degree.  Her skin, 
damp and unnaturally pale, gleaming in the sunny dawn.  Ash began to grumble, 
"Finally!" but stopped; All she was wearing was a sopping wet towel that barely 
covered her 'coverables'.  "Jeez!" he whipped his head around, trying very, 
'very' hard not to see too much.  "Misty, you're half-naked!  What were you 
doing in there?"

"I can't go." Her voice was flat and dull, filled with pain.  She didn't even 
look at Ash; she just stared straight past him.

"Huh?" Ash was again caught off guard.  "What?"

"I can't go to the dance.  I'm sorry."  She began to sob, running down the hall 
as she clutched the towel around her.  The door to Ash's room slammed behind 
her, echoing through the tiny hallway.  Ash just stared at the closed doorway 
with shock, not quite registering what happened.  He seemed almost on the verge 
of tears, but managed to hold them back somehow.

"Well, I guess I should have known." he said bitterly.
Ash's mother, however, was flabbergasted.  She hadn't expected anything like 
this.  "What do you mean, honey?"  She climbed the rest of the stairs slowly, 
not sure of what to do.

Ash was shaking, but he didn't know why.  Was it rage, disappointment, or was he 
just crying?  He would never know.  "She'd rather stay home, and be labeled a 
dance-dodging dateless wonder, than go with me."  He turned, half running, half 
stomping down the steps.  "I guess it shows how much I'm worth, huh?"  Pikachu 
looked back at Mrs. Ketchum for a moment, then scampered after Ash.

Ash's mom glanced back at her vanishing son, then turned to Misty's new refuge.  
"This may take a little more work than I anticipated."

Brock exited the guestroom, clad in sweatpants and an old tank top.  He was 
rubbing the sleep from his eyes, grumbling with annoyance.  "What's all the 
commotion about?"  His bare feet thumped against the hardwood floor as he padded 
over to Mrs. Ketchum.

	"Oh, nothing special." Ash's mother assured him.  "Just a little problem 
with the kids, that's all."  She pointed first to Ash's door, where Misty sat 
moping.  Then she gestured downstairs to the unseen Ash, off doing heaven-only-
knew.

	"Which one do we talk to first?"

	Ash's mom thought about it for a moment.  "Misty.  Ash will be easy enough 
to deal with."  Brock nodded and began walking towards Ash's room, but Mrs. 
Ketchum stopped him.  "Hold on there, hombre.  Where do you think you're going?"

	Brock was completely confused now.  "But you just said-"

	"I didn't mean right now, silly, and certainly not you!" she gently cuffed 
him on the head.  "Fixing this will take a woman's touch.  You just keep an eye 
on Ash for me."  Brock nodded in agreement, taking off downstairs after Ash.  
"We'll see if we can't fix this yet..."
*		*		*

	Misty, long-since fully clothed, sat atop Ash's bottom bunk.  She was 
dressed in a sleeveless yellow shirt and a pair of cutoff denim shorts.  It was 
an outfit that she hadn't worn for quite some time now.  Her hair, her glorious 
red hair, was bunched up in a large, awkward clump that shot off of the side of 
her head, like a mutated ponytail.  It was her old hairstyle, the hair of a 
child.  Somehow it felt appropriate.  She sniffed, clutching her knees close to 
her chest.  Her mind was racing with a mixture of self-pity and anger, anger 
toward her own stupidity.  What had she been thinking?  She couldn't, she 
wouldn't, face Ash ever again.  Tears ran down her cheeks, tiny waterfalls of 
pain that she could no longer bottle up inside.  She buried her face into her 
knees and began to sob, the flow of emotion becoming unstoppable now that it had 
been released.

	A soft, gentle tap sounded from the door, interrupting her tears.  
"Misty?" Mrs. Ketchum's muffled voice was filled with concern, "Are you in 
there, dear?"

	"No.  Go away."

	Mrs. Ketchum opened the door slowly, sticking her head in first.  She gave 
Misty and encouraging smile as she entered the room.  "Misty, why don't you come 
out?  All of us are worried about you."

	"Really." Misty stated dully, not believing.  She didn't care what 
happened to her anymore, so why should anyone else?  "So where's Ash?"  She 
looked up, gazing at the pair with her bloodshot, tear-filled eyes, the rims of 
which red and puffy from crying.

	Ash's mom sat down next to Misty, her hand folded in her lap.  "He left 
the house a little while ago.  I think he needs some time to himself.  You know, 
he's very upset that you don't want to go to the dance with him."

	Misty very nearly smiled.  "I hope the goofball didn't go out in his 
bathrobe."

	Mrs. Ketchum giggled.  "No, Brock was nice enough to loan Ash a set of his 
clothes."  She began to chuckle harder.  "It was actually a bit funny; Ash, 
standing there, wearing clothes that were three sizes too big for him."  She 
burst out into laughter, "The poor dear."  Misty's own frame was shaking with 
laughter.  Then it became half-laughing, half-sobbing.  Within seconds, she had 
reverted completely to crying and wailing.  Ash's mom quickly embraced her in a 
tight hug, patting her on the back.  "There, there, dear.  If you didn't want to 
go to the dance with Ash, you should have just been honest.  He would have 
understood, and I'm sure any grudge would have worn-"

	"NO!" Misty shouted, startling Ash's mom.  "No," she said again, this time 
more softly, "It isn't that.  It isn't that at all."  She broke Mrs. Ketchum's 
embrace gently, beginning to walk the length of the room with slow, shuffling 
steps.  "Your son...Ash...he's great.  I mean, there are times when I can't 
stand the little dipstick..." She looked quickly to Mrs. Ketchum, her eyes 
growing wide.  "No offence..."

	"None taken."  The elder Ketchum smiled broadly.  "I won't dispute you 
just yet."

	"But he's...just wonderful.  He's understanding, and empathic, and brave, 
and cute..." She stopped, pointedly looking at Ash's mom.  "You aren't going to 
tell him I said any of this, are you?" her tears halted momentarily.

	"My lips are sealed."  Ash's mother was still confused.  "I don't 
understand...if you like Ash, then what's the problem?"  She folded her arms, 
trying to maintain a non-threatening demeanor.

	Misty's gaze wandered across the room slowly until it came to rest upon 
Ash's full-length mirror.  She walked over to it, her feet dragging on the hard 
wood floor as she crossed the room, until her frame filled the reflection of the 
mirror.  "The problem is...me."  Mrs. Ketchum responded with questioning looks, 
hoping for a more thorough answer.  Misty looked back to the mirror, sighing 
disgustedly.  "The Waterflowers come from a long line of beauty and grace." She 
pulled a worn, dog-eared picture out of her back pocket, staring intently at it; 
it was an old family photo, taken about a year before she and Ash had first met.  
The photo depicted Misty and her three sisters standing outside the Cerulean 
City gym, underneath the gigantic Dewgong figurine.  Misty stood in front of her 
taller sisters, scrunched tight in the middle.  "Just look at my sisters; 
Violet, Lilly, Daisy...they're all beautiful."  She threw the picture down 
disgustedly.  "Then there's me, the runt of the family, little Misty 
Waterflower, the poor youngest daughter that missed out on all the looks."

	Mrs. Ketchum finally understood.  She got up slowly, walking up behind 
Misty.  "Dear, you've got it all wrong."  She bent down to pick up the photo.

	Misty's tears were once more streaming freely from her eyes.  "Do I?" her 
voice shook, barely under control.  "Just look at that photo.  Just look at it!"  
She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to look at herself in the mirror.

	Mrs. Ketchum put a hand on Misty's shoulder.  "I am looking at it.  Do you 
want to know what I see?" Misty sniffed, turning around.  "I see a little girl 
standing in front of three older sisters who had a pretty big head start on her.  
I see a brave girl who set out on her own, even after everyone else told her 
she'd fail." She smiled at Misty.  "I see a girl with as much courage, 
intelligence and inner beauty as I've ever seen."

	Misty's tears did not stop.  "Maybe...but that doesn't change-"

	"It already has."  Mrs. Ketchum turned Misty around gently so that she 
faced her reflection in the mirror.  She held up the photo so Misty could see it 
in the reflection.  "This little girl isn't you anymore, Misty."  She set the 
photo down on Ash's desk, which rested next to the mirror.  "You've grown so 
much since then.  I've watched you blossom into a beautiful young lady, every 
inch as attractive as your sisters and five times as talented."  She undid 
Misty's offshoot hairstyle, letting the girl's mane of fiery red-orange hair 
drop to hang just below her shoulders.  "Can you see her?  She's right in front 
of you."

	Misty sniffed, finally smiling.  Maybe if she squinted really hard...and 
if she used her imagination just a touch..."I can." she whispered, "I can see 
her."  There she was, standing right in front of her; a beautiful young woman 
was gazing back at her in the reflection.  She had long slender legs, a wiry, 
curved figure, beautiful sea-blue eyes and gorgeous red hair cascading down her 
shoulder.  Misty whirled around, wrapping Ash's mom in a tight hug that nearly 
broke several of the woman's ribs.  "Thank you..." the Mistress of Water cried, 
this time with tears of happiness.  "Oh, thank you so much."

	Mrs. Ketchum stroked the girl's head, ignoring the pain in her ribs.  "I'm 
glad we've gotten that straightened out."  She pulled the chair from Ash's desk 
over to the mirror and gestured for Misty to sit.  "Come on, we have to make you 
look fantastic for the dance."  She produced a hairbrush as the Water Mistress 
sat down.  Ash's mother began to stroke Misty's hair with the brush, running it 
through the tangled red locks.  She sighed.  "You know, I've always thought of 
you as the daughter I never had."

	"Really?" Misty was surprised, and very flattered.

	"Mm-hmm." Ash's mom nodded.  "Ever since I was, oh, about your age, I 
dreamed of having a beautiful little girl who I could have tea parties with, and 
who I could teach to be a woman."

	Misty looked at the elder Ketchum through the mirror.  "Were you 
disappointed when Ash was born?"

	"Oh, heavens no." Mrs. Ketchum grinned.  "Ash was a wonderful little boy, 
everything a mother could ever hope and dream for.  The day he was born, I 
stopped wishing for a daughter."

	"How come?"

	"Because what I really needed was a wonderful daughter-in-law who could 
keep up with him."  They both laughed at this, each of them knowing all-to-well 
how Ash could be.  "I'm surprised you've lasted this long with him, Misty.  I 
know what a handful he can be."

	Misty smiled.  "Well, I can't take credit for all of it; Brock does quite 
a bit in reigning Ash in, after all.  Pikachu too, though most of the time he 
just follows Ash right into the thick of things."

	Mrs. Ketchum stood back, giving Misty's follicles a final once-over.  
"There.  I've done all I can with it.  It's all up to the stylist now."  She 
winked at Misty.  "I took the liberty of making an appointment for you.  It's in 
an hour, so you'll have to hurry."

	"I guess I'll have to change for the dance in-town." Misty said.  She 
looked longingly at her beautiful red dress, wrapped in plastic and hanging over 
the end of the bed.  It had taken her days to find it, but hopefully, it would 
be up to the task.  Then she looked back at Ash's mom, rubbing her arm 
uncomfortably.  "I guess I should get going..." They stood in a moment of 
silence, both not quite knowing what to say.  Finally, Misty rushed towards her, 
wrapping her in another bone-crunching hug.  "Thank you," she whispered, "For 
everything."

	"You're more than welcome, dear." Ash's mom whispered back, kissing the 
teen atop her head.  "I'll always there if you need me."
*		*		*

**Thursday [night]**
(30 minutes to dance time)

	Brock stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his bright red bow tie.  A 
little to the left...no, now more to the right.  There, it was perfect.  He 
stepped back, taking in the view; a black, spotless rental tux hung off of his 
muscular form, giving him an eye full of class in the mirror.  "You are gonna 
knock her off her feet, Brock-O!" he said to the reflection, throwing on some 
cologne.  A light tapping came on the door to his guestroom.  "Come in."

	Mrs. Ketchum stepped into the room, dressed to kill in a beautiful, 
shimmering emerald evening gown and matching handbag.  She took one look at 
Brock and whistled.  "Hey there, handsome." she winked at him.  "Looking good, 
Brock.  You all set?"

	"Mrs. Ketchum?" Brock's jaw dropped.  He rubbed his squinted eyes and 
looked again, not quite able to believe that this was the same woman that gave 
birth to Ash Ketchum.  "I didn't know you were going too..."

	She smiled, placing a hand on her hip.  "Professor Oak asked me to 
accompany him in chaperoning the dance.  He's such a sweetie."  She adjusted his 
carefully placed bow tie, fixing the angle he had placed it at.  "So, is 
everything set?  Did we manage to fix *all* of the emergencies?"

	"Ash is in his room now, changing, and Misty should be on her way now."  
They high-fived each other. "We are 'so' good." he grinned.  The beefy Rock 
trainer exited the room.  "Speaking of which, I'll go check on Ash."

	Brock traversed the few feet from his room to Ash's door and knocked.  
"Hey Ash, you in there?"

	"Yeah. C'mon in." Ash's muffled reply answered from inside the room.

	Brock opened the door and entered Ash's dimly lit sanctuary.  "Hey, buddy, 
are you all-AUGHHHHH!" Brock screamed in horror.

	"What?" Ash was lying nonchalantly on the bottom bunk of the bed, leaning 
back against a pile of pillows he had stacked up behind himself.  He wore a pair 
of ancient, stained and tattered jeans and a Vermilion Victreebell's jersey.  
His hat was on the other side of the room, sitting on the floor.  Ash held a 
deck of cards in his hand, which he attempted to flip, one by one, into the 
carelessly discarded hat.  Pikachu sat next to him, chewing on the joker cards.  
"Something wrong?"

	"What in the name of Mew do you think you're doing?" Brock was hysterical, 
though he wasn't really sure why.  It was probably seeing all of his and Mrs. 
Ketchum's hard work fly away in a fit of slovenliness that turned his face 
crimson with anger.  "Misty will be here any minute, and you aren't even ready 
for the dance!"

	"Yeah, so?  She doesn't want to go with me anyway." Ash's voice was bitter 
as he tried to throw the King of Hearts into his hat.  "So what's the problem?"

	Brock moaned, cradling his face.  "The problem, you half-brained Magikarp, 
is that she 'does' want to go with you!  So get your butt in gear and get ready, 
got it?"

	Ash got up, jostling Pikachu as he rose from the bed.  "Brock, that's the 
thing.  She thinks she does, but she really doesn't.  No one could want to go 
with me."
	"Oh lord, please not this." Brock murmured.  It was like Misty, only 
worse.  "Why not?" he groaned.
	Ash's eyes hung towards the floor.  He stood in front of his mirror, the 
same mirror Misty had stood in front of mere hours before.  "Look at me.  Just a 
skinny, brainless twerp.  I'm surprised Misty is even my friend."  He snorted.  
"I'm about as dateless as you, you know that?"

	"Hey!" Brock cried indignantly, "I have a date!"

	"Yeah, the Banshee from Oak's Lair."

	Brock shook his head.  "Ash, Ash, Ash, you poor, superficial fool.  You 
need to look past the first glance."  His eyes grew dreamy.  "If you look deep, 
past her admittedly gruesome voice, you see that she has a very incredible 
body."

	Ash rolled his eyes.  "You're right.  I should try to be less shallow, 
like you.  My mistake."  He turned away to look out the window, sighing.  
"Mistakes.  I've made so many of them...more than my fair share."  Pikachu, done 
with the joker cards, ran up to Ash and tugged on the boy's pant leg.

	"Pika?  Pikachu."

	Ash picked Pikachu up, holding him.  "I can't even remember how many times 
I've stumbled along the way...how many times I've screwed up royally.  It's a 
wonder I haven't cost anyone their life."

	Brock laid a hand on his shoulder.  "Making mistakes is part of learning." 
He smiled, "But you're right, not even I know how many you've made.  I haven't 
even 'been' there to see all the mistakes you've made as a trainer."  He saw a 
small dot in the distance, traversing the trail out to the Ketchum's 
neighborhood.  It had to be Misty.  "But there's someone who 'has' been there.  
She's seen every mistake you've made, every folly, and every triumph."  He 
rubbed Ash's head, much like an older brother would.  "She's always been there 
for you, just like me.  You gonna let her down?"

	Ash still looked unconvinced.  He too saw the figure in the distance, now 
almost close enough to see clearly.  Brock picked up a pair of binoculars from 
Ash's dresser and peered through them, trying to get a better look.  Once he got 
them focused, he was floored beyond words.  "Ho-lee moley!"

	"What?"  Brock handed the binoculars to Ash so he could get an eye full.  
Ash was even more stunned than Brock had been.  "T-t-that...I-I-I..." he gulped.  
"She has red hair like Misty's...but that CAN'T be Misty...can it?"

	Brock just shook his head.  "Brother, if you disappoint someone who looks 
like 'that', you need your head examined."

	Ash began to panic, jumping around.  Pikachu leapt from his arms, 
chattering at him.  "Oh my God, oh my GOD!  She'll be here in less than a 
minute.  Brock, SHE'LL BE HERE IN LESS THAN A MINUTE!"

	Brock grabbed Ash, slapping him.  "Get a hold of yourself, man!"  Brock 
looked down at Pikachu.  "Pikachu, I have a very important mission for you."

	"Pika!" Pikachu drew up at attention, throwing Brock a salute.

	"Pikachu, I need you to stall Misty for as long as you can.  I don't care 
what you do-sing, dance, mug her-just keep her away from this house as long as 
you can."  Pikachu scampered off, heading out the room and down the stairs as 
fast as its little mousy legs would carry it.  "Okay Ash, we have our work cut 
out for us."

	"What're we going to do?"

	Brock looked grim.  "Something never attempted before..." he scowled, 
dragging Ash roughly towards the bathroom.  "We're going to have you ready for a 
black tie affair in less than four minutes, or die trying."
*		*		*

	Misty walked along the dirt path, adorned in her sparkling red dress.  
Despite the lack of preparation, she was pleased with it; the high-collared, 
flowing dress eliminated the possibility of anyone getting a good look at 
something they shouldn't, but it had a seductive slit running all the way up to 
her mid-thigh, and clung to her in all the right places.  Her hair was piled 
atop her head in a beautiful mass of curls, brushed back behind her ears.  A 
playful braid hung down from her left temple, as it always did, only now frilled 
and with a satin ribbon.  Her make-up was in place, Celadon City perfume gave 
her the scent of a princess, and her Pokémon were secured in the matching 
handbag that swung from her delicate hand.  Psyduck occupied one of Silph Co.'s 
new Hyperballs, firmly locked and double-locked.  Hopefully it would be enough 
to keep the moron contained.

	She drew closer to the Ketchum residence, mere steps from its door.  She 
forced herself to breathe normally, instead of the heaving, nervous gasps that 
she oh-so-desired to take.  "It's all right.  Just a few more steps...ring the 
doorbell...and try not to puke all over your dance partner."  Pulling herself up 
to her full height (Which was a mere centimeter taller than Ash.  Where was the 
justice in the universe?), she put one foot in front of the other, walking up to 
the Ketchum's porch.  She was about to ring the doorbell when a small yellow 
blur leapt from the bushes, startling her.  "Oh!"

	"Pika!  Pika ka chaa!" Pikachu cried joyfully, leaping into Misty's arms.  
"Pikachu.  Cha, ka-cha chooo ka-cha, Pi pikacha."

	She smiled, catching Pikachu.  "Yes, I'm very happy to see you too, 
Pikachu.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go inside."  She set the Pokémon 
down on the porch's railing and reached for the doorknob.

	Pikachu's mind whirred as it recalled Brock's words.  * I don't care what 
you do-sing, dance, mug her-just keep her away from this house as long as you 
can. *  "Cha!" The mouse would start from the top of its list and work its way 
down.  Pikachu began to warble, garbling its own version of the Indigo League's 
anthem.  "Pika pika, pi-pi-ka cha, pi pi pi pikachuuuuu."

	Misty raised an eyebrow at the tiny rodent.  "Are you okay, Pikachu?  You 
aren't sick, are you?"  She turned again to the doorbell, reaching out to push 
it.

	Time to try again.  "Pikachu!"  The electric mouse began to stamp and beat 
its feet on the porch railing, still warbling out its miserable solo.  "Pika-
pika, pi-pi ka cha, pi pika, pi-ka-chuuuu."

"Pikachu, really now.  That's enough, you're making a terrible racket." Misty's 
hands were on her hips as she scolded the Pokémon.  "What if one of the 
neighbors complains?  They might ship you off to the pound, or something worse!"  
She began to reach for the doorbell again, her finger growing 
closer...closer...Almost there...

Pikachu had run out of options.  "Pikachu!" the Pokémon leapt from the banister, 
snatched Misty's beautiful red handbag in midair, and hit the deck running as 
fast as it could.

"Hey!"  Misty took off after Pikachu, running back and forth across the yard 
trying to catch the playful power-packed Pokémon.  "You come back here, you 
dirty little vermin!"  She prayed that Ash wasn't watching this from his window, 
cackling at her misfortune.  "When I catch you, I'm going to make a purse out of 
you!"
*		*		*

	"Bro-ok, why can't we just use the shower?"

	Ash cowered in the bathtub, shivering; the poor trainer had been relieved 
of his clothes and was now under an aquatic assault.  Brock stood opposite Ash 
on the other side of the tub's rim, commanding his friend's Wartortle.  The 
feather-tailed turtle was spraying its own trainer with a devastating stream of 
freezing cold water while Brock ran a stiff bristled brush over Ash's skin.  "No 
time for showers, we need to hurry."  He glanced at his watch.  "Three minutes 
left.  Let's move!"  He yanked Ash from the tub, still dripping and sputtering, 
pulling him up with one fluid motion and wrapping him in a towel.  "C'mon, let's 
hurry."

	"Brock, we'll never make it!" Ash whined as his rocky friend dragged him 
across the hall and into his room.  "I'm still sopping wet, and she's almost 
here."  He glanced out the window, spotting Misty as she ran across the 
neighborhood after Pikachu.  His Electric type had something small and red 
clutched in its forepaws, but he couldn't make it out at this distance.  "It's 
hopeless."

	"You aren't quitting yet." Brock pulled one of Ash's Pokéballs off of the 
boy's dresser and activated it.  "Let's get a move on, Charizard!"  The 
containment device produced Ash's fiery, towering lizard of flames.  Charizard 
snorted, sending a thin stream of fire out of its nostrils as it searched the 
room for trouble.  All it could see was a sopping, dripping Ash and a stern, 
scowling Brock.  "Charizard, dry Ash off with Flamethrower!"

	Charizard shrugged, complying.  It sent a stream of not-too-hot flames out 
at Ash, instantly evaporating the water on the trainer's skin.  Then it left the 
flame there just a half-second longer, simply for kicks.  "Charizard!" Ash 
screamed, getting singed beneath the torrent of flames.  The lizard chuckled, 
but stopped obediently.  Ash frazzled but dry, scowled at Charizard.  "I saw 
that, buddy.  You're pulling triple training for the next week."  Charizard 
leered at Ash, sticking its long pink tongue out at the trainer.

	"Shut up, Ash, we don't have time." Brock threw Ash's tux at him, smacking 
the boy in the face with the black material.  "Put this on, and hurry!" the 
burly Rock trainer turned around, his arms folded across his chest.

	"All right, all right."
*		*		*

	Misty scratched her head thoughtfully, looking through the Ketchum's 
shrubbery.  Now where had that nasty little rat gone?  She had seen him run into 
the bushes..."Ah-ha!" she cried, jumping at one of the tiny plants.  Before she 
could make it there, Pikachu shot out of the bushes at lightning speed with its 
Agility, a waning trail of sparks left in its wake.  "Blast it, come back here!" 
she screamed, giving chase.

	"Pika-ka-pika!" Pikachu shot back, sticking out its tongue before 
continuing the chase.  It desperately hoped that Ash was hurrying up.  The poor 
mouse couldn't take much more.
*		*		*

	"Are you done yet?"

	"Will you keep your pants on?" Ash grumbled, putting the finishing touches 
on his tux, "I'm done.  Jeez."

	Brock turned around, looking at his watch.  "Excellent.  And we even have 
a minute to spareeeeeAUGHHHH!" Brock smacked his head with frustration.  Ash's 
tuxedo was properly in place, he had no problems there.  However, the filthy, 
battered cap that covered his head of tangled, slightly damp hair would be a 
challenge.  "Ash, you moron, you can't wear your hat!"

	"Why not?" Ash grabbed his hat protectively.  "This hat's like my best 
friend."

	"I'll try not to take offense at that..." Brock said dryly, snatching the 
hat off of his friend's cranium.  He pulled another of Ash's Pokéballs from the 
dresser and opened it up.  "Let's see what we can do."  Pidgeot, Ash's gigantic 
bird Pokémon, was released from the ball with a gust of wind and a bright flash 
of energy.

	"Pidgyooooooo!" it trilled, whistling at Ash's get-up.

	Brock produced a small white handkerchief and stood behind Ash, folding 
the cloth into a small band.  "Okay Pidgeot, Gust attack!"

	Pidgeot drew its wings back and blasted Ash with a powerful wave of air.  
Ash staggered slightly, squinting in the terrible torrent of Pidgeot's personal 
storm.  His hair began fluttering back, flapping in Brock's face.  As he had 
planned, Brock grabbed Ash's hair and wrapped it together, bunching it up and 
tying it with the pocket-handkerchief.  "Okay Pidgeot, that'll do!"  When the 
Flying type's hurricane died down, Ash's hair fell down in a neat, trim ponytail 
that hung just above his shoulder blades.  Brock stepped back to look at his 
handiwork.  "Not great, but it'll have to do."

	"So that's it, right?" Ash asked wearily, trying to recover from the 
windstorm.  He leaned against Pidgeot, who nuzzled him and trilled happily.

	"Almost." Brock grinned.  "I almost forgot the most important part."  He 
pulled the last Pokéball from Ash's dresser.
*		*		*

	Pikachu sat leaning against the house, panting pathetically.  Misty had 
come dangerously close to catching him a dozen times in the last few minutes.  
It never though someone could move so fast in high heels!  The electric mouse 
checked left, then right; nothing but bushes.  It sighed heavily, adjusting the 
burdensome handbag that it had stolen.  Thank goodness it had lost her-

	"GOTCHA!" Misty's cry took Pikachu completely by surprise as she leapt out 
of the bush closest of him, her slender fingers latching onto one end of the 
handbag.  Pikachu tugged on it, but couldn't get it away from her.  In 
desperation, it powered up for a Thundershock.

	"Piiiiii....Kaaaaa...."

	Misty's voice was low and malicious.  "You do it, and it'll be the last 
spark you ever make.  Got me?"

	"Piiiii." Pikachu powered down, cowering as it released the handbag.  
Misty 'hmmf'ed, standing up and throwing the strap of the bag onto her shoulder.  
She checked herself over once more to make sure she still looked perfect...well, 
presentable, anyway.  Everything looked all right as far as she could see.  
Gathering up her courage and steeling her nerves, Misty strutted up to the door 
and reached for the doorbell...
*		*		*

	"Okay Bulbasaur, give him a good shot!"

	Bulbasaur, Ash's tiny plant/frog Pokémon nodded, barking in understanding.  
"Bulba!"  Drawing itself up to its full height, which was just over a foot, it 
let loose with a spray of organic herbs from the apex of its oversized bulb onto 
Ash.  Ash shut his eyes, coughing, hardly daring to breathe.  Then he took the 
tiniest of whiffs, preparing to be paralyzed or put to sleep.  He opened one 
eye, taking a deeper breath.

	"Hey, that's not too shabby."  He reached down, patting Bulbasaur on the 
head.  The lizard-like Pokémon took the kudos with pride, rubbing against Ash's 
pant leg.  "Great job, Bulbasaur.  I didn't know you could do fragrances."

	Brock nodded.  "Okay Bulbasaur, step two!"

	Bulbasaur squeezed its eyes shut, shivering with concentration.  
"Bullllll...Baaaaaaaaaa..." Ash took a step back cautiously, afraid that his 
poor Bulbasaur was going to explode, or something equally as unpleasant.  
"Saur!"  Bulbasaur's eyes snapped open with triumph as a small flower sprang out 
of its bulb's opening.  "Bulbasaur!"

	"Wow!" Ash applauded, plucking the flower from Bulbasaur's back.  "That 
was awesome, Bulbasaur!"  He looked at the tiny, delicate flower; it was s 
beautiful blue rose that almost shimmered in the twilight that seeped through 
the window.  Each delicate petal curled upward, forming a breathtaking swirl in 
the center.  The flower emitted a soft, sensual aroma that tickled Ash's sinuses 
with a pleasant tingling.  "It's perfect!"

	Ash's heart froze as the two most wonderful tones rang throughout the 
house.  *Ding-Dong! *  He was unable to move, unable to breathe, for several 
seconds.  His mind was racing; what would he say?  What would he do?

	"I'll get it!" his mother's voice sang from out in the hall.  She walked 
towards the stairs, humming a tune.  Without warning, a blur of black and white 
shot past her, spinning her in place and moving down the stairs at superhuman 
speeds.  "Oh dear!"

	Ash skidded as he hit the slick hardwood floor.  His arms spun like 
pinwheels as he lost his balance, stumbling forward towards the door.
*		*		*

	Misty tapped her toe with impatience, fidgeting uncomfortably.  What if he 
didn't like the way she looked?  What if he already found someone else to go 
with?  She shook these thoughts away.  'Don't be stupid,' she thought, 'It's 
unthinkable that he found someone else.  Isn't it?'  Her hands were shaking as 
she wrung them.  What was taking so long?  She reached out to ring the doorbell 
again, wondering if anyone was home.  Her hand jerked back as a loud thump shook 
the door.  Something must've banged into it from the other side.  After a 
moment, the door swung open.  She put on her best, brightest smile, expecting to 
see Mrs. Ketchum.  She was taken aback when it was Ash who stood on the other 
side of the doorframe.

	"Uh...hi." Ash mumbled.

	"Hi."

	Ash was absolutely stunned; He had never seen Misty look like this.  Her 
dress was perfect.  It was better than anything he could have imagined.  The 
high collar looked almost regal...and her legs!  His gaze traveled upwards, 
gazing upon every breathtaking inch.  He had never really noticed how feminine 
Misty had become.  She was beautiful!  And her hair...her glorious, amazing red 
hair was gracefully curled atop her head, save for that single, wonderful braid 
she kept in front of her left ear.  He knew he was staring...he just didn't 
care.

	Luckily for him, Misty didn't notice that he was staring.  She was too 
busy taking her own looks.  Incredible!  His head was hatless, his hair drawn 
back in a manly ponytail.  His tuxedo was perhaps a size too small...but that 
was only because he had grown so much since he wore it last.  My, how he had 
grown!  Misty couldn't believe it.  After all this time, she had never realized 
just how masculine Ash had become.  He was handsome!  As her gaze drifted lower, 
she saw a beautiful blue rose clutched delicately between his fingers.  Misty 
desperately hoped that the flower was for her.

	They would have stood there, content to stare at each other for hours, had 
Ash's mother not interrupted them.  "Oh, Misty, you look wonderful!  Doesn't she 
look 'wonderful', Ash?" she suggested heavily to her son as she descended the 
staircase.

	"Huh?  Oh, yeah!  I mean, uh, you look...great." Ash stuttered, straining 
to find the right words in his befuddled mind.  Misty merely blushed, looking 
down at her feet without saying a word.  "Really, uh, really great."

	Brock fell in step behind Mrs. Ketchum, plodding down the stairs eagerly.  
"Hey, looking good, Misty." he leaned against the doorframe.  After another 
uncomfortable moment of silence, he kicked Ash in the back of the leg.

	"Oh, right." Ash held up the blue rose.  "Here," he muttered into his 
chest, "This is for you."

	"Real smooth, Romeo." Brock muttered under his breath.

	Misty, however, wasn't phased by Ash's lack of verbal grace.  "Thank you." 
she whispered, taking the rose from his hand.  Her fingers brushed his, sending 
a jolt through them both.  "It's beautiful."  She placed the delicate flower in 
her hair, trying not to destroy the work that the stylist put into her head.  
Ash smiled, relieved that she liked it.  He made a mental note to ask Dexter 
just what other tricks Bulbasaur was capable of.  Thankfully, he had left the 
device up in his room; if this date was going to be a disaster, it was going to 
be Ash that screwed it up, not his jabbering Pokédex.

	Brock grinned, glad to see that things were finally falling into place.  
"Well, let's hop into the car and get moving!" he rubbed his hands together 
eagerly.

	"Actually, Brock, I'm afraid there won't be room enough for all of us in 
the car."  Mrs. Ketchum walked into the kitchen and came out with a small tray 
of appetizers.  "I thought Professor Oak would enjoy a platter of my Lemon-
Sardine Twists, so I whipped one up.  They'll have to go on the back seat, which 
means there'll only be room for two in the car."  She smiled sweetly at Ash and 
Misty.  "Would you two mind too terribly if you had to walk to the Master's 
Ball?"

	Brock snorted, taking the tray from Mrs. Ketchum's hands.  "This tiny 
thing?  Jeez, I could carry this on my lap, no problem!"  He laughed.  "We'll 
have plenty of room."

	"Now Brock, you know how delicate those Twists are." the elder Ketchum 
said slowly, hoping that Brock would catch on.  "They'll have to sit on the back 
seat."

	"Really, Mrs. K, these things will be fine.  I'm not sure why-" Ash's 
mother clipped the extremely dense teenager upside the head, trying to knock 
some sense into him.  "Ohhhhh."  He turned to the anxious lovers in the doorway.  
"Sorry, she's right.  Looks like you'll have to hoof it to the Professor's."  He 
winked at Mrs. Ketchum, who only rolled her eyes upward with frustration.  She 
snatched the tray of edibles from Brock and walked out the front door, an 
unusual sway in her hips and a smile pursed on her lips.  Brock followed suit, 
flashing a grin at Ash and Misty.  "Don't take too long."  He left his friends 
standing speechless, not sure of what to say or do.

	Pikachu hopped back up from the bushes, jumping onto the porch's railing 
with a grin on its face.  "Pika!"  It bounded into Ash's arms.

	"Hey!" Ash caught the mouse clumsily, staggering back.  "I was wondering 
where you got to.  Here, put this on."  The trainer pulled a small black bow tie 
out of his jacket and handed it to Pikachu.

	Misty scowled at Pikachu, eyeing the mouse carefully.  "You know Ash, 
Pikachu was acting really crazy a few minutes ago...I think maybe you might want 
to leave him home."

	"Crazy, huh?"

	"Yeah, he stole my purse!"

	Ash pretended to be shocked.  "Pikachu!  Bad Pikachu, bad!  We'll see to 
your punishment after the dance, you little thief."  Pikachu just moaned, 
glaring up at its trainer.  Chances were good, it was going to be a long, 'long' 
evening.
*		*		*

	Misty's heart raced as she walked side by side with Ash down the beaten 
path.  The sun was just beginning to set over the horizon, casting a warm violet 
aura across the sky.  The open fields and clearings smelled of wildflowers, 
giving off a pleasant aroma as they walked to Oak's lab.  It was still and 
quiet, save for the gentle trilling of unseen Caterpie singing their songs of 
love and play in the forests beyond.  With Ash at her side it made for a very 
romantic setting.  It was like something out of a dream, or a dime-store romance 
novel marked down to a nickel.  Fantastic fantasies played wistfully through her 
mind; Ash would hold her hand, clasping it tightly and walking shoulder to 
shoulder with her; Ash would wrap his arms around her waist, drawing her close 
in a gentle embrace; Ash's lips drew nearer to hers, his eyes filled with love, 
lust and desire as he kissed her... So just why wasn't the goofy little moron 
saying anything?  He just walked alongside her, once in a while looking down at 
Pikachu, but never at her.  Perhaps he needed a jump-start.

	"Ash..." Misty said in a full, throaty voice.

	Ash tried desperately to keep the shaking from his own voice as he 
answered.  "Yeah?"

	"I...It's a beautiful evening, isn't it?" She hadn't really thought of 
what 'she' wanted to say, and was slightly embarrassed at her own hesitation.  
Her hand nervously clenched and unclenched by her side, shaking like a leaf.  
She forced it still, willing it to lay flat on her thigh as she prayed that Ash 
hadn't noticed her twitching and fumbling.  She looked down at Ash's hand and 
was surprised to see it clenched tight, tight enough to turn his knuckles white.  
Why wasn't he holding her hand?  She might have to take the initiative on this 
one.  She let her hand slowly drift away from her hip.  Slowly, very slowly, she 
let it move closer towards Ash.  If she bumped into his hand...

	Ash's mind was racing every bit as fast as Misty's, though with half the 
confidence.  His heart was pulling a double-time beat; it felt like it might 
leap out of his chest and bounce ahead of them.  What should he do with his 
hand?  He unclenched, relaxing his hand and letting it hang by his side.  Very 
cautiously, very quietly, he let it jut out, just a little bit.  Maybe if he 
brushed his hand against hers... 

	Pikachu looked up from its place next to Ash, shaking its tiny, mousy 
head.  Those two were hopeless; their eyes locked out in front, with their hands 
flapping around at their sides trying to find the other's hand.  It was 
laughable at best, and this was most definitely not their best.  It was time for 
Pikachu to take matters into its own claws.  "Pika!"  Pikachu leapt upwards, 
latching onto each of their hands simultaneously.  At first, they both jumped, 
thinking that the other had taken their hand.  Then they looked down.

	"Pikachu!" Misty cried out, failing to keep the disappointment out of her 
voice.

	Ash looked down at his thunderous partner.  "What're you doing, Pikachu?"

	"Cha!"  Pikachu grunted, taking either hand and slapping them together.  
The tiny mouse dropped to the ground, grinning at its own ingenuity.

	For a moment, Ash and Misty stared down at their intertwined hands with 
shock.  Red slowly seeped into Ash's complexion, his face becoming uncomfortably 
warm.  Misty blushed as well, giving Ash a small smile.  Ash cleared his throat 
uneasily, "Well, if he's that insistent, how can we refuse?" he rationalized 
lamely.

	"How indeed?" Misty chuckled, sighing happily.  For the rest of the walk, 
they remained in silence.  Neither one felt that it was the right time to say 
anything.  They maintained the blissful silence, linked tightly hand-in-hand.
*		*		*

"Ash!  Misty!  So glad you could make it."

	Professor Oak greeted his young friends at the door with a warm smile, 
bowing politely.  "Welcome to the Indigo Master's Ball, Mr. Ketchum and Ms. 
Waterflower.  So pleased that you could make it."  He clapped his hands 
together, rubbing them vigorously.

	"Uh, gee..." Ash said, rubbing the back of his neck with embarrassment.  
Pikachu looked up at Oak, puzzled at the researcher's formality.  "Thanks, I 
guess.  Why the polite act, Professor?"  Misty jabbed Ash with her elbow.  She 
gave him a quick scowl, then looked back to Oak with a gracious smile splayed 
across her lips.

	"Thank you for your auspicious hospitality, Professor Oak." Misty thanked 
him, bowing humbly.

	Oak clapped his friends on the back.  "Now that the formalities are out of 
the way, why don't you check your Pokémon and start the fun?"

	"Check our Pokémon?" They harmonized in confusion, each reaching for his 
or her Pokéballs.

	Oak nodded.  "We have a one-Pokémon-per-trainer rule at this year's dance.  
No exceptions, I'm afraid."  He held his hand out expectantly.  With a great 
deal of hesitation and reluctance, Ash unstrapped his belt and handed it to the 
aging scientist.  Misty reached into her purse, drawing out a single Pokéball, 
then handing the handbag over.

	Togepi was released from its ball, popping back into existence with a 
bright flash.  Misty looked over to Ash and shrugged.  "Might as well keep one 
that's travel-size."

	Oak pocketed the lose spheres and threw Ash's belt over his shoulder.  
"You may want to go around the building, the inside is quite crowded.  I had no 
idea so many people showed up to these things!"  They stood in silence for a 
moment.  Oak scowled, "What do you think you're doing here, talking to a foolish 
old man while there's fun to be had?  Get going!" he turned them around and gave 
them a hearty push in the right direction.  Somehow Misty managed to maintain 
her precarious balance atop her ruby pumps, mostly through clinging to Ash's 
arm.  Pikachu and Togepi scrambled after their trainers as the couple made their 
way around the gigantic research laboratory.

	Ash sighed, swallowing the last of his fear.  This wasn't nearly as 
difficult as he thought it would be.  A hint of a smile came back to his 
expression as he led the way around towards the rear of the building.  "I wonder 
why the Professor's so worked up." he quipped.  "After all, the Master's Ball 
isn't that big of a-" as they rounded the corner, Ash's voice became a squeak, 
"Deal..."

	'Romantic' didn't begin to describe the setting that Oak had constructed 
for this year's Ball.  The lighting-if one could call it such a thing-was a 
handful of burning lamps, casting mysterious shadows across the flat, packed-in 
earth and accenting the bright moonlight.  There was just enough light to see a 
person's face if you were very, 'very' close.  Tables dotted the perimeter of 
the dance floor, each one tucked away inconspicuously.  A DJ's table rested 
against the rear of the house, piping music into dozens of speakers set up in as 
many locations.  Several groups of trainers mingled here and there, with a 
minority swaying gently to the music across the main stage area.

	"Ash, is something wrong?" Misty asked, looking at him with concern.  She 
was just as surprised with the transmutation of Oak's field as Ash was, but took 
it much better.  "Ash?  Ash, are you all right?"

	"Fine." his voice cracked.  Clearing his throat, he tried again, "Fine."  
He pretended to look around, searching for something, all the while re-gathering 
his nerves and trying to swallow the fear that had vomited back into his soul 
with a vengeance.  "Have you seen Brock anywhere?"

	Misty's sensitive ears rang with a grating, high-pitched laughter that 
made her cringe.  "Oh God, who is that?  She sounds like Meowth, but even that 
freaking cat was never that irritating..."

	"That's Brock's date." Ash said glumly, trying to pin the source of the 
laughter.

	"You're kidding."

	"I wish.  C'mon." He lead her, along with their Pokémon, over to one of 
the mingling groups.  As expected, Brock and Gracie were conversing with a 
gaggle of trainers.  Oak's newest assistant was thoroughly enjoying herself.  
Brock, on the other hand, appeared to be in need of several sets of earplugs.

	"Oh, Brockie, that was such a funny story." Gracie's horrible voice grated 
between laughs.  "Oh, I could laugh all night!  HA!"

	"My...pleasure." Brock muttered.  His face brightened when he saw his two 
friends walking up.  "Ash!  Misty!" he waved them over.  "Gracie, you remember 
Ash...and this is Misty, his girlfriend."  Misty punched Brock on the arm, but 
didn't bother to deny anything.  "Say, Gracie," he looked to his date, taking 
her hands, "Would you like some punch?"

	"Oh, I'd love some!"

	"Great, the table's over there." he pointed towards the house.  "I'll take 
one too."

	"Oh...okay." his date blinked.

	Misty chuckled, taking Gracie's hand.  "C'mon, I'll give you a hand.  Ash, 
keep an eye on Togepi."  She led the research assistant off, leaving Ash and 
Brock alone.

	Brock waited until they were out of earshot, then slumped over, sighing 
with relief.  "Thank the Goddess." he groaned.

	"What's the matter, Brock?" Ash ribbed him, "I thought you just had to get 
past her voice to see the beautiful person that she is.  Don't tell me that 
you're as shallow as me now."

	Brock gave him a glare that would make a gargoyle blink.  "I stand by what 
I said, Ketchum.  The only trouble is, I'm still trying to get past the voice!"  
Ash laughed, patting the Rock Master on the back.  Together, they went to sit at 
one of the tables on the edge of the clearing.  "It's rough, buddy, and not just 
on me."  He whistled, calling Vulpix over.  The poor fox Pokémon popped out from 
under a chair, trotting over to its trainer and jumping into his lap.  Brock 
stroked Vulpix's reddish-brown fur.  "The poor little guy went off like a shot 
as soon as she said "hello".  I don't know if he'll ever be the same."

	Ash picked up Pikachu and Togepi, placing them on the table.  Pikachu 
queried Vulpix with a 'pika'.  The fox merely shuddered, snuggling deeper into 
Brock's lap.  Ash shook his head.  "Yeah, well, you aren't the only one with 
problems.  What am I gonna do?"

	"What do you mean?  You're here at the dance, so you dance.  Isn't it 
simple enough?"

	Ash snorted, throwing up his hands.  "How?"

	"Exactly how dense are you?" Brock swatted Ash upside the head.  "You go 
over to her, you say something to the effect of "Hey, let's dance," and you 
dance!"

	"Um..." Ash blushed nervously.

	"Oh God." Brock's voice grew low and deadly as he whispered hoarsely to 
Ash.  "Tell me you know how to dance."

	Ash remained still for a moment.  "Are we talking about traditional 
festival dancing?"

	Brock face-faulted, letting his head drop against the metallic surface of 
the table.  "Why me?  Why always me?"

	"Think you could teach me?"

	"You're on your own for this one."

	"Ketchum!" a partially familiar voice barked, catching their attention.  
Ash looked over with dread, praying that it wasn't who he knew it to be.  
Standing before them was a quartet of trainers: a young, aqua-haired vixen with 
round rimmed glasses; a towering man-mass of muscle and power; an ancient, 
slight old woman with snow white hair and a plethora of wrinkles; a mysterious 
tall figure with spiked hair and a cape adorning his shoulders.  It had been the 
vixen whom had spoken, scowling at Ash with a mixture of loathing and arrogance.

	"Lorelei..." Ash nodded to the younger woman, continuing on to greet the 
rest of the Elite Four.  "Agatha...Bruno...Lance..." Bruno was the only one to 
greet Ash back, giving him a smile and a nod.  Pikachu growled at the foursome, 
sparking at the cheeks.  "What brings you here?"

	"What do you think?" Lorelei snapped at him.  "We just thought we'd greet 
the 'current' League Champion." she stressed the word "current", sneering at 
him.  "I hope you're doing well on that insane quest of yours."

	Ash sighed.  "Look, is there a reason you came over here, or are you just 
going to stand there and get on my nerves?"

	Agatha shook her cane at Ash angrily.  "We've had just about enough of 
you, boy.  You're a menace to the League.  Lucky for us, you're on your way 
out!"

	"And what's that supposed to mean?" Brock's voice rose in defense of his 
friend.

	"Young Gary Oak is the favorite to win this year." Lorelei said matter-of-
factly.  "I have a feeling you won't find it so easy this time, Ketchum."

	"They said that four years ago, Lorelei.  I wouldn't count your champions 
before they win."

	Lance had stood quietly the entire time, like an ominous statue.  He chose 
to speak up, talking with low, guttural tones.  "You lose."  With that, he 
turned on his heel and walked away.  Lorelei and Agatha quickly followed, giving 
Ash one last scowl for good measure before taking their leave.  Bruno chose to 
remain behind, gesturing in apology with his massive hands.

	"I'm sorry about that, Ash."  He chuckled, extending his hand.  "You know, 
they really do hate you." he chuckled.  Ash gladly took the man's hand, trying 
to match the powerhouse's grip as Bruno pumped his hand up and down.

	"It's okay, Master Bruno." Ash said warmly.  "I'm used to it by now."

	Bruno's face grew serious.  "You might want to be careful, my young 
friend.  Gary Oak has sworn to take the League Championship from you this year, 
at any cost."

	Ash waved the large man off, scoffing, "Gary's just a big bag of wind.  I 
can handle him, 'and' the misaffections of those three."  He smiled.  "Thanks 
for the warning, though.  I imagine it isn't easy to be my only friend among the 
Elite Four."

	Bruno laughed.  "Your friendship comes at a high price, Ash."

	"Tell me about it." Brock quipped, grinning.  This drew a grunting chuckle 
from Bruno, which soon grew into raucous laughter.  Brock joined him, slapping 
the larger man across his broad shoulders.  Ash couldn't help but smile, adding 
to their laughter with his own.
*		*		*

	Misty poured up the second glass of punch, being very careful around her 
brand new dress.  Gracie sighed with pure content, already possessing her two 
cups of fruit juice.  "Oh, this is such a magical evening.  Brock is just the 
cutest guy, isn't he?"

	"Huh?  Oh, yeah.  Sure.  Cute, right." Misty grunted, glancing back.  What 
was her damage?

	"Hey, you.  What's your name, Hazy?" An obnoxious and all-too-familiar 
voice taunted her from behind.

	Misty cringed, dropping the glass into the punchbowl.  "The name is 
'Misty', Gary Oak." she swore under her breath, trying to resist the urge to 
pound the living daylights out of the smug trainer standing behind her.  "What 
brings you out from under your rock at this hour?"

	"Oh, sharp wit.  Careful you don't put your eye out with it." Gary winked 
at her.  He was clad similarly to Ash; a black, spotless tuxedo with his 
customary good-luck pendant hanging around his neck.  A pair of his vapid, 
airhead cheerleaders stood on either side of him, grinning like mindless dolls.  
"Misty it is, then."

	Gracie gave Gary a warm smile.  "Hi there.  Are you a friend of Ash and 
Misty's?  My name is Gracie."  She obviously hadn't had the displeasure of being 
introduced to the Professor's grandson yet.

	"That's great.  Go tell someone who cares." Gary waved her off, slipping 
his arms around his cheerleaders' waists.  Gracie became flustered, stuttering 
and backpedaling quickly.  Once she was gone, Gary waved his cheerleaders off.  
The girls obediently stood off to the side, like trained dogs, or those Seel you 
could see at Discount Sea Land.  "So, you actually showed up for the dance this 
year, did you?"

	"That's right." Misty turned her nose upward, fishing the dropped glass 
out of the punchbowl.

	Gary's gaze traveled down Misty's set of sensual curves.  "Glad you did."

	"Really." Misty 'hmmf'ed, finally retrieving the sunken glass.

	Gary smiled warmly, placing his hand on her shoulder.  Misty instantly 
stiffened, dropping the glass into the punch once more.  "Oh yeah.  You know, 
I've had my eye on you for quite a time now..." He took another look up and 
down, "And I gotta tell ya, I like what I see."

	Misty turned to face him, coming in close.  Gary's hand tightened on her 
taut, muscled shoulder as she drew in closer to him.  She gave him her sexiest 
smile, leaning in close until her mouth was right next to his ear.  She began to 
whisper softly, "Gary, I'll give you exactly three seconds to let me go.  After 
that, I'm going to make you cry like a little girl."  The arrogant teen 
immediately released her, taking a step back.  Misty gave him a wink, which 
caused him to scowl.

	"I wouldn't take my affections so lightly, Waterflower." he said, holding 
up a finger in warning.  "Big things are coming my way, and I could use someone 
to ride to the top with me."

	"So get another cheerleader, Oak.  I'm not up for grabs."

	Gary sneered, regaining his air of confidence.  "That's right, I forgot; 
you're Ash's little slave girl."

	"I can still make you cry, Oak."

	He folded his arms across his chest.  "Think about it; what can that 
little twerp offer you that I can't give you ten times over?"  Misty's mouth 
opened, then promptly closed as she became stuck for an answer.  She turned red 
with fury, glaring at Gary without a word.  "That's what I thought." he said 
smugly.
*		*		*

	Ash stopped, already halfway to where Misty stood.  It was tough to pick 
her out in the dim lighting among the crowd...there, standing by the punchbowl.  
She was talking to someone; who was she talking to?  He squinted, trying to make 
out the person.  It was a man; he had brown hair...spiked.  Gary!  Why on Earth 
was Misty talking to that big bag of wind?  She seemed agitated enough...Wait!  
He watched as Gary put his hand on Misty's bare shoulder.  She turned to face 
him...they drew in close.

	"What in blazes?" Ash growled, feeling the fury build up in him.  His 
teeth gritted together as he saw the two standing intimately together.  
"Pikachu," he addressed his Poké-partner standing by his ankle, "Can you hit 
Gary with a Thunder Blast without frying Misty from here?  Before Pikachu could 
respond, Ash was surprised from behind, grabbed by the shoulders and spun around 
without warning.

	"Sur-prise, honey!" Ash's mom cried with excitement as she hugged Ash 
tightly.  Ash had just enough time to yelp with surprise before his mother's 
grip squeezed all the air out of him.  "So, how are things going?  Didn't 
Professor Oak do a fantastic job with the décor?  Where's Misty?"

	Ash gasped, finally breaking his mother's iron grip.  Coughing, he pointed 
over towards the refreshment table.  "She's over there." he grumbled, "With 
Gary." He felt like washing out his mouth after saying 'His' name in the same 
sentence with 'Her' name.

	Ash's mom frowned, looking over; Gary and Misty appeared to be having a 
heated discussion.  From the looks of it, Misty was having a very hard time 
keeping herself reigned in.  "So?  What are you waiting for?"

	Ash snorted.  "What's the point?  She's-"

	Before he could get another word out, his mother grabbed his ear and 
yanked on it, bringing him painfully close.  "Now you listen to me, Ashlan 
Terrance Ketchum: that girl has been through a lot to be here with you, and I'm 
not just talking about the beauty salon."  Ash tried to squirm free, but his 
mother held fast to his ear.  "Now here is what you're going to do; you're going 
to go over there, you're going to rescue her from Gary's clutches, and you are 
going to show that girl the most romantic evening she's ever had.  Understand?"

	"But-"

	"UNDERSTAND?"  Ash nodded weakly.  "Good." His mother released her hold on 
his ear, relieving the immense pressure.  Ash sullenly rubbed his ear as his 
mother smiled down upon him serenely.  "You'd better hurry, chop-chop!"

	Ash managed a small smile.  "Yes, mother."
*		*		*

	"Get lost, slime ball."

	Gary smirked, blocking Misty's escape route.  "You still don't get it, do 
you?"  He winked at Misty, who threw him a withering glare.  "This is your last 
chance for salvation from Ash."  His arms folded across his chest.  "What's he 
got on you to make you follow him around like a trained Growlithe, anyway?

	"I have my reasons." Misty shot back.  She tried to go around him, but he 
still blocked her path.  The Mistress of Water had taken nearly all she was 
going to take from this piece of tripe; Professor Oak or no Professor Oak, she 
wasn't afraid to beat him within an inch of his life.  "Will you 'please' get 
out of my way?"

	Gary didn't budge.  "I'm not moving until-"

	"Beat it, Oak."  Ash placed a hand on Gary's shoulder from behind.  "The 
lady is with me."

	Gary whirled around, his fists at the ready.  "Well well well, if it isn't 
our hailed League Champion." the towering trainer spat.  "I was just engaging 
the lovely lady in conversation."  He glared at Ash, who glared back at Gary.  

	Ash pointedly walked over to Misty, taking her arm and linking it with 
his.  Misty blushed at this, surprised that Ash would make such a bold move.  
"Let's not play games, Oak; you don't like me, and I definitely don't like you.  
But leave her out of this, got it?"

	Gary 'hmmf'ed, snapping his fingers.  Obediently, his cheerleaders raced 
to his side and linked their arms around his waist.  "Whatever you say, Ashy-
Boy.  It doesn't matter anymore; I've already won."

	"Won?" Ash asked, confused.

	Gary looked at either of his cheerleaders, then back at the couple.  "You 
must not play Poker, Ash.  If you did, you'd know that three of a kind always 
beats a pair of losers!"  With that, he strutted off with cheerleaders in hand, 
laughing at his own twisted joke.

	Misty sighed in relief.  "Thank God." she groaned.  "And thank you, Ash.  
I thought he'd never leave."  She leaned over, kissing Ash on the cheek.  The 
poor befuddled trainer turned three different shades of red, his eyes wide with 
shock.

	"I-I-I-I...It was n-nothing." Ash stuttered.  He swallowed hard, trying to 
keep calm.  His pulse must have been going at five times its normal rate, and 
his palms were uncomfortably sweaty.  "S-s-s-so..."

	Misty looked down, abashed.  "Yeah?"

	The compound filled with a slow, rhythmic beat, softly playing from the 
surrounding speakers.  They could feel the base beating in their bones, sending 
a tingling sensation up their spines.  Ash looked at Misty, struggling to find 
the words.  "Would...Uh, would you...with the moving, and the swaying...I mean, 
uh, would you..." he looked helplessly out at the dance floor, then back at her.  
"Uh, would you like...to..." Frazzled, he turned another three shades of crimson 
as he scratched the back of his neck with embarrassment.

	Misty giggled, taking Ash's hand.  "I'd love to dance."  Together they 
moved from the sidelines into the very heart of the dance floor, making their 
way around the other couples that had picked up the beat themselves.  Misty 
looked longingly into Ash's eyes as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, 
her heart skipping a beat.  Ash, however, merely held her on either side of the 
hips, keeping her at a distance.  They began to sway awkwardly, not even 
remotely in any semblance of unison and without grace or coordination as the 
precious music played on.

	'Oh man, I hope I'm doing this right...' Ash prayed silently.  He narrowly 
avoided planting his huge feet on Misty's delicate toes, managing to throw them 
further out of sync.  Swallowing his pride, he continued on, trying to make 
conversation.  "I...uh, I really can't believe what a great job the Professor 
did with the place.  It's really...great."

	Misty frowned.  'What in the world is he doing?  There's enough space 
between us for a third person, for heaven's sake!'  This wasn't at all the 
romantic dance she had envisioned with Ash.  'It's almost like...' Realization 
dawned on Misty as Ash stumbled once more, keeping her at an even greater 
distance.  'He doesn't know how to-'

	"Maybe Professor Oak'll have some new upgrades for Dexter...something I 
can use for the league, or-"

	"Ash." Misty said softly.

	"Yeah?"

	Misty stepped in close, pressing up against her secret desire as she 
wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.  Ash took a sharp breath in, his 
nervousness duplicating itself again and again in the blink of an eye.  Misty 
leaned her face in, nearly touching his nose with hers.  She looked deep into 
his eyes, deep into his twin, amber seas.

	"Just shut up and hold me."  She laid her head against his shoulder, 
melting into him.  Ash's nervousness, his anxiety, vanished in a heartbeat.  He 
smiled, encompassing her waist with his arms and keeping her close.

	"I think I can handle that."
*		*		*

	Meowth whistled, impressed with the setup in the clearing of the Oak 
Compound.  "Wow, dat's some setup da Geezer's got der."  His head peeked over 
the ridge on the northwest end, surveying the target area.  The talking cat 
Pokémon turned back to his partners, expressing his doubts.  "I dunno, dat place 
is crawling with da best trainers for sixty miles.  Do we really wanna try to 
rob dem?"

	Jessie waved him off, laughing softly.  "Meowth, don't be silly.  The 
twerp and his Pikachu are ripe for the picking."

	"Besides," James added, "They may be able to beat three of us-"

	Jessie cackled malevolently, finishing James' sentence, "But let's see how 
they do against three dozen of us."  Together they looked back at the small army 
of black-clad figures, blending in with the dark surroundings of the night.  
Their Rocket soldiers grunted, saluting Jessie and James and readying their 
Pokémon.

	Meowth rubbed his paws together.  "Let's see who blasts off this time, 
twerp!  Ha ha!"
*		*		*

	Brock looked on at his friends, dancing among the crowd.  He very much 
doubted they were even listening to the music anymore.  Mrs. Ketchum stood at 
his side, happily observing the same situation, with the same conclusion.  She 
looked over at her younger friend.  "We do good work, Brock."

	"That we do." Brock agreed with a grin.  Then he frowned, checking left 
and right with just a hint of panic in his expression.  "Uh-oh."

	"Brock, what's wrong?"

	Before Brock could answer, Gracie's voice rang across the area in search 
of her date.  Several people cringed, while others fled in fear.  "Brocky, where 
are you?  You promised me a dance, my sweet little Brocky!"

	Brock shuddered, looking at Ash's mother with dread.  "Hide me." he 
pleaded.  Mrs. Ketchum laughed, taking Brock's hand and dragging him onto the 
dance floor.  Before Brock could even blush with embarrassment, she placed his 
hands on her hips, then took hold of his shoulders and began to dance with him.  
The poor Rock trainer looked as if he was going to have a heart attack, but he 
kept his mouth shut as Gracie drew nearer.

	"Excuse me..." Gracie tapped Mrs. Ketchum on the shoulder as she swayed 
with Brock in her arms.  She successfully managed to block Brock from Gracie's 
view, keeping him out of sight of Oak's young assistant.  "I'm sorry to bother 
you, but have you seen a tall, dark man with pointy hair walk by here?"  Mrs. 
Ketchum shook her head, smiling.  "I'm sorry, please forgive me." Gracie bowed, 
walking off to continue her search.

	Brock heaved a sigh of relief, looking at Ash's mom with gratitude.  
"Thanks a lot, Mrs. K.  I thought I was a goner there, for a sec."  He paused 
for a moment as they continued to dance.  "Um, you know, you don't have to dance 
with me anymore...I can probably avoid Gracie all night now."

	"Don't be silly, Brock." Mrs. Ketchum's laughter rang lightly like a 
beautiful bell, "I haven't been dancing in ages.  You're quite good, you know."  
She winked at him.  "Every woman likes to have someone big and strong hold onto 
her once in a while, you know."

	"M-M-M-Mrs. K!" Brock wheezed, his face turning as red as his Vulpix.

	She laughed again, this time at his embarrassment.  "You're so easy, 
Brock.  Don't worry, I don't want to marry you.  Just keep dancing, you big 
lug."  She hugged him tightly, giving him a peck on the cheek.

	"Yes ma'am." Brock gulped.
*		*		*

	Misty sighed softly with content, happier now than she had ever been.  At 
long last, the romantic evening she had envisioned with Ash had come true.  She 
wasn't sure how long they had been dancing; she didn't care.  For all she knew, 
the music had already stopped, but she didn't care.  Lifting her head off of 
Ash's shoulder, she met his soft, amber eyes with her own aquamarine gaze.  
There was a spark in his eye, a glimmer that she could remember from their days 
together, long since past.  'Oh God,' she thought, 'He's going to kiss me...' 
Closing her eyes, her head leaned slowly forward, crimson lips pursed.

	Ash, in the meantime, was completely unaware of his 'glimmer'.  'Oh God,' 
he thought, as Misty's lips drew nearer, 'She's going to kiss me.  Oh God, oh 
God, oh God...'

	'How should I handle this?' Misty's mind raced, 'I gotta make sure this is 
perfect...should I leave my mouth open?'

	'Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God...'

	'What about my tongue?'  She paused for a half-second.  'Will that just 
make me seem easy?  But if I don't, he'll think I'm cold...'

	'OhGodohGodohGodohGod...'

	Misty swallowed, taking a deep breath.  'Okay, here goes...' she leaned in 
again.  Her fingertips caressed the back of Ash's neck, teasing him playfully.
Ash closed his eyes, praying.  'Oh God, if ever you've helped me to not ruin the 
moment and screw everything up, let it be now.'  His head jutted forward 
awkwardly, searching for Misty's lips.  After an eternity, after several brief 
seconds, their lips gently brushed together.

"Ha haha hahahaaaaaa!" a high-pitched, obnoxious laughter filled the compound 
from above, tearing the eyes of young couples skyward and interrupting the most 
important moment in Ash and Misty's life.  They separated, looking up at the 
dark night sky.  A huge, hideous balloon that resembled the disembodied head of 
a Meowth hung a mere fifty feet above the dance floor.  A Pokémon who greatly 
resembled the balloon hung over the edge of the basket, cackling at the people 
below.  "Get ready for a biiiig surprise, chumps!" Meowth gloated.  As he 
chortled, a pair of ominous figures leapt from the basket, traversing the fifty-
foot span with the help of gravity.

"To protect the world from devastation!" Jessie landed on one knee unhurt, 
having had great practice at falling over the years.  She rose, sneering at the 
trainers present at the dance.

"To unite all peoples within our nation." James followed suit, coming down in a 
forward roll and tossing out his Pokéball.  Weezing, his gaseous, hideous 
collection of toxins, was released from the containment sphere with a bright 
flash of light.

"To denounce the evils of truth and love," Jessie released her Lickitung.  A 
pink, clownish lizard produced from the wash of sparkling energy, giving the 
crowd a four-foot long raspberry with its floppy tongue.

"To extend our reach to the stars above."  Weezing began spraying a thick fog of 
black smoke, blinding the masses with a choking haze.
"Jessie!" 

"James!"

"Team Rocket blasts off at the speed of light!"

"Surrender now, or prepare to fight!"

Meowth leapt from the balloon, landing on James' head.  Poor James was driven to 
the ground, his cranium smashed into the relatively firm dirt.  "Meowth, that's 
right!" Meowth exclaimed, taking his bows atop the mass of blue hair beneath his 
feet.  James promptly stood, grabbing Meowth and flinging him away.

"Now, hand over all your wonderfully trained Pokémon, 'Masters', or we'll have 
to have a ball!" Jessie cackled.  Most of the trainers shrunk back in fear.  
Three of the trainers, however, refused to back down.

"Don't you have anywhere better to be?" Ash coughed and choked on the thick 
Smokescreen that Weezing had laid out for them.  "Like somewhere far, far away?"  
Pikachu was back at his side, sparking at the cheeks and grinning with the 
prospect of some action.

Misty stood by him, trying to appear as menacing as she could as she wobbled 
atop high heels.  "That's right!  You've blown it for...uh...a lot of young 
couples in love!"  She picked up Togepi, scowling at Team Rocket.

Brock and Vulpix managed to spot the malevolent trio through the haze as well.  
"And now we're gonna blow it for you guys!"

"Vul!"

Jessie placed a hand over her mouth in mock-fear.  "Oh no, it's the twerps.  I 
guess we're done for now."

James folded his arms, grinning.  "Psyche!"  He snapped his fingers.  Within an 
instant, dozens of figures dressed entirely in black began to pour from the 
balloon's basket, like clowns coming out of a small car.  Before they could say 
"outnumbered" there was a small army of them, standing between Team Rocket and 
Ash's crew.  "We brought along a few other friends, courtesy of Team Rocket."

Meowth blew a shrill whistle.  "Now go get 'em, boys!"  The black army gave 
their leaders a grunt, then ran forward, releasing their Pokémon.
Ash's eyes widened as the Rocket assault force charged them, easily outnumbering 
them a dozen to one.  "Ho-boy..."
*		*		*

	Professor Oak stood inside of his research lab, watching the scene unfold 
from his upper-level window with a knowing smile on his face.  Outnumbered or 
not, he knew that Team Rocket would be getting away empty-handed tonight.  The 
old man looked over at the storage rack he had set up for the dance, filled to 
the brim with all kinds of Pokéballs.  It was his responsibility to guard them 
from the Rockets, who would be arriving-

	The door to the lab flew in, followed by a pair of the black Rocket grunts 
and their Pokémon; a Sandslash and a disgruntled Poliwrath.  Once inside, the 
Rockets took one look at Oak and began laughing.  Taking out a whip, the one in 
front addressed the Professor with as much contempt as possible.

	"Okay old man, hand over those Pokéballs and we'll let you get back to 
bed." he cackled maliciously, cracking the whip in the air.

	Oak chuckled, facing the two miscreants.  "I'm afraid you picked the wrong 
laboratory to rob, my impetuous young friends."  He snapped his fingers, then 
turned around with an air of confidence.  The Rockets took a step forward, 
trying to convince the geezer of the danger he was in.

	"Listen old man-" Before he could finish his threat, the lackey was cut 
off by a pair of very disturbing sounds.

	"M-m-m-muk!"

	"Koo-Kieeeeee!"

	In an instant, a large, toxic Muk and a huge Kingler appeared from thin 
air, standing between the Rockets and Professor Oak.  They leered menacingly at 
the intruders, snapping and oozing towards the unwanted guests.

	"Kingler, Muk, please show these gentlemen how we treat unwelcome guests."

	The crab and pile of goo complied happily, snarling at the Rockets.  
Uncertain of these new players, Sandslash and Poliwrath backed up slowly until 
they were up against the wall.  Their trainers did the same.

	"Koo-kie!"

	"Nooooooooooo!"
*		*		*

	"Pikachu, Thunderbolt!"

	The electrifying lightning mouse sprang forward, powering up.  Being on 
the front lines, Pikachu had its pick among the plentiful targets; Golem, 
Rapidash, Rhyhorn...the army of Rockets had an impressive array.  "Pika!" The 
thunder mouse let loose with a devastating blast of electricity, blasting the 
front line; a half-dozen fell, only to be replaced by another wave.  Pikachu 
backed up desperately as a Vileplume charged it, spraying a cloud of Stun Spore.

	"Vulpix, Fire Wall now!" Brock ordered.  Vulpix barked, spraying a searing 
column of flame across the ground between Pikachu and the Vileplume, turning the 
ground into a molten channel.  Before the gigantic flower could stop, the red-
hot earth began spewing flames, sending a vertical wall of red fire upwards.  
Vileplume ran through the fire, catching aflame.  It began screeching, running 
around frantically.

	"Thanks Brock." Ash wiped his brow, then turned back to the battle.  The 
Golem and Rapidash were bearing down on Pikachu, trying to catch the mouse from 
either side.  "Pikachu, Thunder Spin!"

	Pikachu began to rotate, scrunching down and crackling with power.  When 
Golem and Rapidash were almost on top of it, Pikachu's electricity exploded 
outward, catching the living boulder and the fire horse in a whirling tornado of 
lightning.  Rapidash was electrocuted, screeching in pain as it fell to the 
ground, writhing and twitching.  Golem, immune to the voltage, was thrown 
violently into the air, only to land on its trainer several feet away.  Pikachu 
stopped the attack, panting with exhaustion.  Unfortunately, Team Rocket was 
just warming up.  The mouse leapt back into the fray, with Vulpix hot on its 
heels.

	"Ash!" Misty yelled, catching one of the Rocket trainers on the jaw with 
her left hook while holding Togepi in her right arm, "This isn't working!  
Pikachu and Vulpix are getting tired, and we're still outnumbered!  We need our 
other Pokémon."

	Ash growled, watching as Pikachu and Vulpix battled with at least a dozen 
Pokémon, each one bigger and meaner than the last.  Pikachu was obviously 
tiring, and Vulpix's fire was cooling off.  "We don't 'have' our other Pokémon 
right now!"  He turned back to the cowering crowd, still huddled in the shadows.  
"How about some backup, huh?" Ash screamed at them, but none of them were 
willing to risk their Pokémon to fight the infamous Team Rocket.

	A brawny man stepped forward, the crowd parting to accommodate his 
impossibly broad shoulders.  "I'll help." Bruno said, pulling out his single 
Pokémon.  "And so will Hitmonchan!"  Tossing the ball, he released his 
Hitmonchan.  The piston-punching Pokémon was produced from the Pokéball with a 
wash of bright light.

	"Chan!"

	"Hitmonchan, it's time to mix it up!" Bruno said, pulling off his tuxedo 
jacket and ripping the sleeves off of his shirt.  Together, they bounded into 
the fray, swinging madly.  A few of the Rockets backed up, frightened of the 
newcomer.  Several of them pulled their Pokémon from the battle, running for the 
balloon.  The rest of them, however, charged forward, trying to overpower to 
brawny fighter.

	Lorelei clenched her fist tightly, shaking it at the Rockets.  "We can't 
just let Bruno have all the fun, now can we?"  Pulling out their Pokéballs, the 
rest of the Elite Four joined the battle.

	"Cloyster!"

	"Gengar!"

	"Dragonair, go!"

	Together, their three Pokémon helped turn the tide of battle; Gengar began 
encircling the remaining Rockets, scaring the daylights out of them with its 
gleeful cackling and insane ranting.  In the meantime, Cloyster and Dragonair 
were freezing up the competition with their Ice Beams.  Soon, a large group of 
Rocket trainers, with their Pokémon, occupied a large chunk of ice in the center 
of the dance floor.  Only Jessie and James remained, sweating nervously with 
their Lickitung and Weezing.

	Bruno started forward for the panicking Rockets, but Ash stopped him with 
an outstretched arm.  He was fuming, his face red with fury.  "Hold on a second, 
Bruno; these clowns are mine.  I have a score to settle."  Bruno hesitated, then 
nodded, giving Ash an encouraging smirk.

	"Hope a little guy like you can handle them." he chuckled.

	Pikachu leapt up onto his shoulder, giving him a 'Pika' of readiness.  Ash 
flashed Bruno a quick grin.  "Just watch."  He ran out, screaming a battle 
charge.  Brock, Misty and Bruno stood in his wake, shaking their heads.

	"Is he always like this?" Bruno asked, laughing.  Misty just sighed, stars 
in her eyes as she admired the would-be hero.

	"You have no idea." Brock muttered.  Then he frowned, looking around.  
"Wait a minute, where's Meowth?"

	"Hahahahahaaa!" The cat sprang from the shadows, leaping at the group with 
his claws extended.  Before they could react, Meowth ripped little Togepi from 
Misty's arms and sprinted off, the egg child crying and wailing as it was 
jostled away from its mother.

	"Togepi!" Misty screamed in horror, her arms outstretched.
*		*		*

	"Lickitung, slurp that stupid rat silly!"

	Lickitung charged at Pikachu, slurping wildly.  "Licki!"  Pikachu flew up 
into the air, countering with Agility.  Before the pink gecko could react, 
Pikachu let loose with a dazzling Swift attack from above, catching Lickitung in 
the head.  Lickitung staggered, dazed from the blow to the noggin, and tripped 
over its own tongue.  "Lick..." It lay on the ground, slumped over, tongue 
hanging limply out of its mouth.

	Pikachu smirked, landing nimbly on its toes.  "Pi-pi-chu!" It razzed 
Lickitung.  As it gloated, James' Weezing was able to sneak up from behind, 
catching it with a Tackle.  "Cha!"  Pikachu was lifted up off of the ground, 
riding up on Weezing as the bag of gasses drove it upward.

	"Pikachu!" Ash growled.  James merely stood there, laughing as he twirled 
his rose.  "Pikachu, Thunderbolt!"

	Pikachu charged up, blasting Weezing with a barrage of electricity.  
Weezing screeched as it spun out of control, crashing into one of the torches.  
Pikachu bailed out as the Poison type caught fire, escaping the shrieking ball 
of flame.  James ran over to his poor Pokémon, beating the fire out with his 
jacket.  Weezing whimpered pathetically as its trainer lifted the hefty set of 
spheres.  Jessie had her own battered Pokémon in her arms, rejoining James.

	"You'll pay for this some day, boy!" James grumbled at Ash as he pulled 
his back trying to lift Weezing.
	Jessie looked at their troops; the ones that hadn't been knocked 
unconscious by the Elite Four were retreating towards the balloon, pushing and 
shoving each other out of the way.  "Uh, maybe some 'other' day, James." Jessie 
lamented, returning Lickitung to its Pokéball.

	"Maybe you're right, Jessie."  They gave Ash a smile and a wave, then 
began sprinting for their Meowth balloon.  After much shoving, biting and 
clawing, the entire Rocket regiment had piled into the balloon and lifted off, 
floating lazily towards the night sky.  Meowth shoved several of the black 
lackeys aside, making his way over towards Jessie and James.

	"Well, we may not have gotten Pikachu..." the cat said, "But I still got 
dis!"  He held up Togepi, who was trilling pleasantly, emitting a soft, strange 
light.

	"Meowth!" Jessie squealed, clasping her hands together, "That's 
wonderful!"

	"At least we're not leaving empty-handed," James sighed.  Then he raised 
an eyebrow at Togepi, who was glowing even brighter.  "Say, I don't remember 
this thing being a night light, do you?"
	"It sort of looks like..." Jessie gulped.  "Self Destruct?"
*		*		*

	Ash and Pikachu rejoined their friends, who were cleaning up the remaining 
Rockets with the help of the Elite Four.  He looked upward at the receding 
Meowth balloon with annoyance.  "They're getting away." he grumbled.

	Misty was hysterical.  "And they have Togepi!"  She stared at the balloon, 
tears brimming in her eyes.  "They took my little Togepi!"  Her tears made way 
for a glare of rage.  "If I ever get my hands on those three, I'll-"

	Before Misty could finish her threat, the balloon erupted in a huge ball 
of fire, completely obliterating the aircraft in the blink of an eye.  Team 
Rocket, along with their black-clad brethren, flew out of sight crying their 
famous phrase.

	"Looks like Team Rocket's blasting off again!"

	Ash, Misty, Brock, Pikachu and Vulpix gazed at the rapidly vanishing cloud 
of fire, awestruck.  Without warning, a small charred object dropped into 
Misty's arms, emitting a screeching, wailing sob.  "Togepi?" Misty hugged the 
smoked egg tightly, rocking it back and forth.  "Oh, Togepi, how awful!"

	"Wow." Ash said, scratching his head, "What an egg-citing way to end a 
dance."

	Brock groaned.
*		*		*

	Mrs. Ketchum leaned against the side of the building, sighing contently.  
"Well, this certainly has been an exciting evening, hasn't it?"  Misty nodded, 
still cradling Togepi.  The tiny egg had finally stopped crying and had fallen 
asleep, much to her relief.  A quick trip to the Pokécenter would fix 
everything, at least for little Togepi.

	"Yeah, just great..." Misty said, gazing up at the stars.

	Mrs. Ketchum blew out a breath of impatience.  "Oh, for heaven's sake, now 
what's wrong?"  She shook her head.  "Did Ash do something to upset you?"

	"Hmm?  Oh, no, nothing like that." Misty said.  "It's just...I can't love 
him."  Mrs. Ketchum blinked, unable to understand.  Misty tried again, "Ash and 
I, we're good friends.  We're best friends."  She looked back up at the stars, 
sighing wistfully.  "I almost lost my best friend once, when I started going out 
with him.  I can't risk it again."
*		*		*

	"Okay Ash, give me every filthy little detail, and don't leave the good 
parts out." Brock ribbed Ash as they stood out on the remnants of the dance 
floor.  "C'mon, spill it!"

	Ash waved his friend off.  "Hey, come on!"  He picked up Pikachu, placing 
the Pokémon on his shoulder.  "Nothing happened, okay?"

	"Are you meaning to tell me," Brock said, full of incredulity, "That you 
danced 'that' close to her, spent 'all' that time worrying, and you didn't even 
'kiss' her?"
	Ash held up his thumb and forefinger, keeping them a half-inch apart.  
"This close."

	"You're an idiot."

	"Thanks." Ash rolled his eyes.  "I dunno Brock, I think maybe I'm just 
going to forget about it."

	"WHAT?"

	Ash looked up at the night sky, gazing at the breathtaking stars.  "You 
don't understand.  When Misty and I broke up, I was a mess; you remember, don't 
you?"  He looked back at Brock, his eyes filled with the memories, the pain that 
he had felt.

	"Yeah, but..."

	He sighed, turning back to the stars.  "Brock, getting over Misty was the 
hardest thing I've ever had to do."  His eyes fell on one particular star...the 
same one Misty was gazing wistfully upon at that very moment.

	"I don't think I could get over her again."

End

Next-		BadgeQuest #8
		The League Games, Part I

-Quiet Hindsight-
	Wow, that was a long story, wasn't it?  I hope you enjoyed it.  If you 
feel like complimenting me, feel free to e-mail me.  If you feel like bitching 
me out, I guess you can e-mail me too, but I won't be as happy to see your 
letters ;)  I'll have some more AAMRNs out as the series develops more, they 
should prove to be interesting.  Danke schön and good night, everyone!