Author - Warlordess

Notes - Hm, I've had this idea in my head for awhile now and I've started drafting it out in a notebook when I could find the time. I'm closing in on the end in that notebook so I started typing it up. . . and I figure it makes for a good Thanksgiving gift; to all of my lovely lil' reviews who haven't given up on me yet. (Though they probably should.)

// Characters / Ages //

Ash / 15

Brock / 18

Misty / 16

//

Title - "Good Enough"

Summary - Guys will never truly understand how to talk to a girl. They will always mess up somehow. . . but there are chances every now and again for miracles.

//

Brock stared at the picture of the redheaded girl in front of him. He was sitting in the office of Nurse Joy (she'd offered it to him when he'd asked to make a private call, knowing there was going to be no privacy in the public lobby), conversing on a vid-phone with an ex-traveling partner; Misty Waterflower. She just happened to be an "awesome" Gym Leader from another region, and the "best" Water Pokemon trainer, and a girl with a "secret" crush on another traveling partner - one, Ash Ketchum.

Secret. Yeah.

"So. . . you're saying he did that again?" She looked just a little bit disgusted at the thought of it.

"Well, actually, it was - um, ah - Pikachu. Ash was a couple miles away. Team Rocket had tried to take his Pokemon again so they got separated. It was awhile later that I met up with Ash and Pikachu found Dawn."

Misty surely thought someone would have pressed charges by now. She knew she should have when she had the chance, but no, she had to be graceful and forgiving and--

"Wait; Pikachu, huh?" For some "secret" reason, she felt a bit better now. "Well, that's good. I was starting to think he was destroying random girls bikes by way of landing a relationship."

"Ha; cute, very cute."

"So. . . what's she like?" Brock swore Misty's tone had just dropped a few notches and she suddenly had this look on her face that screamed he tell her about any feelings the two kids might have for each other.

"It's not what you think. After Pikachu destroyed Dawn's bike, she had to help him out because he was so exhausted and ended up holding onto him until Ash caught up with her. Then they just ended up getting along and she stayed. Honestly, she's got no experience; Ash is just helping her out. Sort of like another 'coach' I remember. . ." Brock grinned and Misty turned red.

"But I meant that! And. . . I was pretty good!"

"Yea, you defended yourself with that for two weeks, maybe. And only when another girl was hitting on Ash. You know, they never actually liked him. They just knew I was too old for them, and they were intimidated by my devilish charm."

"You go ahead and think that, Brock."

It was quiet for a few seconds too long after that. Misty didn't know what to say that wouldn't come off as possessive. Ash hadn't talked to her in months and she was growing more and more upset, aggravated, and disheartened.

"You know, I've tried to get him to talk to you. He always comes up with some stupid excuse. . . like he's sick, or busy, or on his way to the PokeCenter to pick up Pikachu and he'll get to it later."

"But he's obviously lying. Can't we do something about it?"

"Misty, he's a human being in the twenty-first century with free will. What should I do? Strap him to a chair, tell him you're on the line, and force him to speak?"

". . . I'd do it for you. . ." Misty gave an edgy shrug of the shoulders.

"I - I have no doubt that you would, really, but you and I aren't the same person. Therefore I can’t be held liable for making the same choices as you."

"Unfortunately."

"Maybe so, but then who's going to be the one arrested for aggravated assault, or kidnapping?"

There was a sudden knock on the door behind Brock and both participants of the call jumped. Neither had been expecting that, and neither one really wanted to deal with an interruption at this point.

"Brock, it's me. Nurse Joy told me you were in there." Ash. How perfect was that? Brock turned eagerly to Misty and gestured at her to make a decision. It was a good a time as any to tell the boy off for ignoring her for so long. But Misty shook her head. She suddenly wasn't in the mood.

It had nothing to do with the fact that this proved even more so just how much Ash was avoiding her. . . She just. . . figured she could save it all for later.

"Fine; I'll put you on hold--" Brock was already turning around as his arm roved across the top row of keys. A moment later, everything was black.

Misty breathed deep and fell away from the main desk, collapsing into the chair behind her. She was suddenly left alone with nothing to do until Ash was done with Brock. The Gym was closed and her sisters were overseeing the maintenance to the arena (the reason why the gym was closed). All of a sudden, she heard something.

"Alright, Ash. Come on in."

Wait; hadn't that call been muted? Misty blinked, confused, before leaping to her feet and towards the vid-phone monitor. She heard the creak of a door muffling its way through the speaker phone and she automatically tried to block out the fact that she was eavesdropping.

"Um, yeah; I just. . . had something to say." It was Ash. . . ! Oh, and he sounded the same as always. Misty's mind blanked for just a moment before coming back full blast. Maybe if she could hear them. . .

"What about?" Brock.

. . . Then they could hear her, too! She opened up her mouth to say something - anything - to get their attention, but the thought died in her throat at Ash's next words.

"It's about Misty."

There was a moment of silence in which Misty knew Brock had been taking an awkward glance at the monitor on his side, thinking about how the girl Ash wanted to talk about had been right there. . . but he didn't know she still was.

She knew it was wrong, that it was immoral and invasive, but she had to know. What could Ash need to say about her now when he hadn't wanted to talk with her for so long. . . ?

". . . What about Misty?"

"Well, I mean, I know you've wanted me to call her for awhile now and - maybe you haven't noticed, but - I've been avoiding doing that."

"Oh no, believe me, I've noticed."

"Oh, heh. Uh, but you dunno why yet, right?" There was a few seconds of quiet in which Misty imagined Brock shaking his head. "It's 'cause the last time I did, I felt really. . . bad."

"Bad? Like how?" Brock asked while Misty fumed. Had Ash just insinuated that she made him sick?

"I dunno, it was just uncomfortable, really. It was like I ate some bad pizza, but I never threw up." Misty gagged. Had Ash just compared her to a stomach virus?

The nerve of it all.

"And it only came and went when I talked to her. . . so I stopped talking. I feel great now, except for the guilt, anyway." Now she didn't know what to think. Was she really making him sick? Sick enough so that he ran away at the thought of talking to her on the phone? What had she become to him now? First, an acquaintance; then, a friend; and now. . . had she been reduced to nothing more than a food-borne illness?

"What do you mean? What happens to you more specifically?" Brock was asking questions. Good. That meant they might get to the bottom of this thing. Maybe then she and Ash would be able to talk again.

"My stomach hurts, for starters. I feel nauseated and my throat clenches so I can't really breathe well, and I can't talk. And my heart starts beating so fast it hurts. I feel like I won't be able to stand. That's just how it's been for awhile now. I don't get it, Brock; I never used to be allergic to her. Why now? I mean, she's Misty! My best friend!"

"No offense, Ash, but it sounds like your best friend is poisoning you." Brock joked. At first, Misty was insulted, but she couldn't help thinking over what Ash had been saying.

A pained stomach, nausea, hard to swallow, and a heart that just wouldn't beat normally. . . The fact that these symptoms sounded so familiar left a bad taste in her mouth. And at the same time, she felt like all of her wildest dreams may have had a chance at coming true.

"Poisoning me; I thought something like that, too, but every once in awhile, I think I should be doing something differently. I mean, it's Misty, right? She'd understand if I told her I never wanted to talk to her again 'cause she made me sick. . . right?"

"Ash. . . honestly, I dunno. I think the probability of that happening is slim."

Misty felt herself glower. She would totally understand how Ash felt! And after she hit him over the head for his poor choice of words, she'd even worry about him! A little, though; not to the degree that anyone would begin to think suspiciously about any "feelings" she might have for him.

Yeah, best friends were called best friends for a reason. And the reason was so that they would always be what they were and nothing else. Feelings didn't change, they weren't supposed to. So she shouldn't be so happy that it seemed they were, anyway, disregarding the realistic views of any social life.

But she was.

"So. . . do you know what I have, or what I should do?"

"Okay, look at it this way, Ash; what do you feel now? I mean, about avoiding Misty?"

"Guys shouldn't talk about their feelings anymore than necessary, Brock," By the sound of the sigh Ash made ten seconds later, Misty assumed that Brock had been glaring at him, edging him along, "but I guess, if I had to feel anything, it would be guilt. And fear. And maybe some weird. . . hollow. . . something I just don't get. I've never felt it before this."

"Okay, okay. . . so much for not talking about your feelings. . ." Brock muttered. The only reason Misty heard it was because she was standing right behind him, and she still had to strain her ears. Something told her Ash hadn't heard a thing. "Well, not that I'm going anywhere with this now but how do you feel about Misty?"

"Misty? Hah! Hah, hah; c'mon Brock, what are you expecting me to say? She's my best friend! She's been that for years! She's a good person, we like the same stuff, she always puts up a good fight, she's someone to talk to and someone I trust, she gives me a level head most of the time - but she's always had words of advice or comfort when I really need them. She's brave, and takes responsibility, so I respect her and we share a lot of the same dreams. . . Oh, but her cooking sucks."

Misty blinked. If Ash had thought that about her all this time, how come he'd never said anything to her face? Other than the quip about her kitchen skills, the comment had been full of things she'd hoped to hear from Ash for years. In fact, though she was a little disappointed that the only time he could say all these things was when she wasn't around, she flushed a bit at the thought that he actually seemed to feel the way he did.

"Alright, time to narrow it down. What about May, Dawn, Gary, or I? We all have those qualities don't we?"

"Well, May and Dawn are creative but hardly a challenge. Gary's always been anything but a sympathetic ear, and - no offense, Brock - you're a great guy but you're a little too obsessed for me to be able to appreciate you the way I could."

"Wait, what am I obsessed about?" Brock asked blankly. Misty was sure there were a few crickets chirping in the background. A moment later, one of her two friends cleared their throat - (she wasn't sure who) - and Brock continued speaking. "Right, so you're saying that Misty is. . . hm. . . preferable to us, in general? That you like her qualities best?" Another few uncomfortable seconds later, he continued. "It's okay, Ash. I won't be insulted or anything."

"Uh, okay, I guess. . . but I dunno. I mean, Pikachu and my mom come first, but after that. . . yeah, I guess she would be. Why? There's nothing weird about that, right?"

"Well, look at it this way; you appreciate a girl you've been friends with for only a few years (and that's including the two or so you haven't seen her in) more than most other people you may have known your entire life. Sounds pretty weird to me. But only if you look at it head-on. Ash, you say you get sick when you're around her, but it sounds like an anxiety attack to me, and your anxious only when you talk to Misty. That's why you stopped, right?

"I'm just gonna be completely honest and come out with it; I think you like Misty. I think you're attracted to her. I think you've reached your hormonal peak and your mind has made the decision that Misty is the girl you wanna hold, throw down on the couch, make out with--"

"--Agh! Stop talking!" Ash suddenly shouted and Misty, as red in the face as she imagined him to be right now, mentally saw him with his hands over his ears. "Brock, I'm not you and Misty isn't a pretty girl!"

Misty's head snapped back up at that comment. What a blow to the ego. Surprisingly, somehow, Ash felt the same as her.

"I - I mean. . . she isn't one of. . . your. . . pretty girls. Uh. . . but she's. . . pretty, I guess. Ah, yeah. . . uh, definitely. Maybe. A little bit." She couldn't even begin to guess the look on his face as he said this.

"Okay, that settles it. Ash, you're into Misty. You should call her and tell her so she knows it. I can almost guarantee it'll make all your symptoms disappear if you do. Then again, it might not be till after the first date. . . but whatever. You'll feel better, she'll feel better, and the world will be a better place."

"O - okay, but don't you think I should plan it out more? And I'm nervous so can't you give me some advice on how to--"

"--Nope, sorry, I've got nothin'." Brock said in one rushed breath. "Okay, see ya later, Ash." There was some rustling and Misty distinctly heard the shutting of a door crippled with Ash's continued yelps for help on the matter and Brock's refusals. A couple seconds later, Brock returned to her range of hearing, still murmuring about it. "Kids; I'll never get 'em. . . I'm getting too old for. . . this. . ." His voice tapered off as if he'd just discovered something. "Oh. . . crap." He sighed; the next thing Misty knew, she was staring at him again.

"So, you heard everything, huh? Well, I guess I should say it - be expecting a phone call. At least now we both know what's been happening, right?"

"Uh, you mean how Ash has finally caught up with the rest of his age group? Sure. . ." Misty replied. She was still in shock. Biting sarcasm helped with that.

"You know you're looking forward to the time he tells you how he feels. I know I've been waiting for the conclusion to this whole thing for years. Though I still don't get what I'm so obsessed over. . ." He finished in a mutter.

"I. . . dunno. I never thought it'd actually happen. Did it actually happen, Brock? Did Ash just agree that he liked me? I. . . dunno what to think. I dunno what to do. What should I do, Brock? What?!" Misty said in a tone that was suddenly sharp with a level of anxiety of her own.

"I mean, c'mon; obsessed? I just happen to have an attraction to beautiful things - beautiful women. How wrong is that?"

"'Cause I just can't think straight now and I never even imagined that it could happen and - thanks a lot, Brock, this is your fault!"

"But obsessed is a bit of an extravagant term for it, isn't it? I could think of a ton of different ones that would make just as much sense, let alone apply more."

"If you hadn't made him talk about his manly feelings and stuff then I wouldn't be here in this situation! So thanks! Oh. . . but, I guess, without you, I would have never gotten a result, and Ash would forever be an overly-developed preteen with a gravely dangerous interest in Pokemon, so. . ."

"I mean, geez, 'fetish' sounds better than obsession right about now! I know I said I wouldn't be insulted but he went a bit far with that one, didn't he?"

". . . thank you."

"But, anyway. . . Wait, what?" Brock blinked and his mouth opened wide, fish-like. "What'd you just thank me for?"

But Misty had gone silent, and a weird smile suddenly blossomed on her face.

"Brock. . . I have an incoming call. I'm gonna have to go. I'll call you back later."

"Huh, but. . . what'd you thank me for! Tell me, Misty, 'cause I may never experience the after-effects of being congratulated on dating advice again!"

"Sorry, I can't talk anymore for now. . . I think I'm gonna be spending the rest of the night letting Ash sweat it out since it's been so long since we talked. . . before I let him in on the truth." She winked and hung up.

Brock continued to stare for another five minutes before snapping out of it and slamming the receiver down, then going to look up a thesaurus' definition and synonyms to the word, 'obsession.'

//

Notes - Best. Fairytale. Ever. Right? Lol. I thought it went well. It seemed like I got off track a couple times throughout the dialogue, but it all fit in well with the plot and with the humor I was trying to make out of the situation. I think I remember a bit of repetitivity, too, but we'll all just have to deal. I still think this is a good one, thus why I'm posting it.

Reviews make my weekends of 30 hour shifts between my two jobs just a little bit more bearable, so. . . please review! :D