Pokemon belongs to Nintendo, 4Kids Entertainment, Warner Brothers, and Satoshi Tajiri. I am not
profiting from the production of this fic.
This is the winning fic from Zero's Fan Fic Challenge, and damn was I surprised! But I'm not going to
complain.
-----
"I'm sorry, sir, we're booked for the weekend," stated Biru for probably the twelfth time that evening.
The tourist huffed and threw his duffel on the floor. "What do you MEAN? You mean you can't squeeze
me in somewhere?"
Biru plastered on a syrupy smile and repeated, "I'm sorry, sir. It's a busy time for Vermilion, with the
Festival of the Raichu just ending. Maybe next time you should call ahead and make reservations?"
The man growled and stomped out of the lobby of the little inn. Biru shook his head. The morons one met
in the hospitality business…
In truth, there was one room left at the Vermilion City Shady Lane Inn, although Biru would never have
offered it to a man such as the one currently storming down the sidewalk. One room, with one bed, one
chair, and very shaky plumbing. It was Biru's personal policy to keep that room open as often as possible--
one never knew when one would truly need an open room.
Sighing, the elderly Japanese man settled down in the rickety oak chair. He spread a magazine on the
flaking Formica counter and steeled himself for the night.
Three articles later, he heard the squeaky hinges of the main door announce the arrival of yet another irate
potential customer he would, no doubt, deny the privilege of his final remaining room. A blast of cold air
stirred the drowsy atmosphere of the dusty old hotel, ruffling the pages of an undisturbed newspaper resting
neatly on a watermarked old coffee table. Biru pulled his sweater tighter around his shoulders and shifted
in his chair, dreading yet another argument.
"Excuse me, sir?"
The old man glanced up, and was immediately enchanted by the striking profile of a beautiful young man.
He wore a long, dark trench coat, the shoulders darkened and soggy from the wet slush pouring down in the
night outside. His hair was a radiant blue, though dirtied with spots of snow that melted and traveled down
the cerulean strands like so many icicles. The boy's eyes were what caught Biru the most, though. A quiet
desperation played through them, but was nearly drowned out by the sparkling radiance of repressed hope
and joy of life.
Biru gulped. "Yes?"
"Um, I was…could… do you have any rooms? I know about the festival and everything, but we're..." the
boy glanced over his shoulder at his companions, a girl about his own age, her black jacket wet and clingy,
her red hair matted. She held a bedraggled and exhausted Meowth in her arms, attempting to look
uninterested as she studied a dime store printed painting.
"…We're cold. And desperate. If anything, could we sit in here for a while and warm up?"
In the recesses of Biru's age-withered heart, he felt a swell of sympathy wash through him for this forlorn
trio. They were nothing more than children, college students at the most, probably too excited about the
Festival to bother with such things as reservations and planning.
Biru grunted in resignation and fished for the key to his sacred last room. "Here you go, boy," he mumbled
as he handed over the rusted key.
The boy smiled gratefully as his companion breathed a quiet "Thank god…"
Eyeing the girl warily, Biru growled directions to the room and returned to his magazine.
Crazy kids.
---
Jessie stumbled out of the dilapidated bathroom, her bare feet slapping on the wet tile, while attacking her
hair with a towel. The air in the room dried her eyes with hot blown forcefully from a vent in the corner.
The whole place smelled vaguely of mildew, but she was immensely happy to be showered and warm. She
shuffled across the thin carpet towards the bed where James was propped up, rolled in a blanket. His wet
clothes were discarded on the floor in a soggy pile.
Jessie smiled and tossed her towel on the back of the single, sagging chair, careful not to hit Meowth and
elicit his feline wrath. "Cold?" she grinned as she bounced onto the bed next to him.
James smirked and hugged his blankets closer. "Not any more. You?"
"Chilly. Lemme in there."
He raised an eyebrow as Jessie crawled under the blankets and pressed herself next to him, shivering. His
skin was warm but clammy, the residual moisture from the snow still clinging to his fine, goosebumped
skin. His boxers and undershirt were still damp, but warm now, and the wetness seeped into Jessie's
pajamas where she pressed against him. "Jessica," he giggled. "I never knew you though of me that way.
Perhaps I should go change my shorts?"
Jessie rolled her eyes and kicked his leg, muttering something about irrepressible males.
James grinned wider. "Ah, but you mean irresistible, don't you?"
Jessie growled again and resolved to change the subject before this became dangerous. "So where did you
stash the equipment?"
James sniffled. "Locker at the YMCA. We've got dozens of rubber gloves and what must be miles of
shockproof tubing. There are three dozen specialty Ultra balls, a two fake ID's and a false pedigree for
Meowth, reinforced nets, enough cash for roughly three weeks—though God knows why the Boss gave us
so much, two rubber suits, and rubber underwear—you can never be too safe. And, in case someone gets
suspicious and searches the locker, a pair of old gym socks to make it look authentic." He grinned and
sniffled again.
Jessie snickered and shifted slightly, glad to finally be warming up. Yawning, she asked, "So, what are we
here for, anyway?"
"What do you think we're here for?" James laughed, gaining his characteristic squeal, "To catch! That!
Pikachu!"
Jessie glared. "No, what are we really here for, moron."
Breathing deeply, James continued. "What's wrong with catching that Ketchum kid's rat? It does wonders
for publicity." He noticed his partner still glaring at him evenly, waiting for an explanation. "Okay, okay.
The real reason? Festival of the Raichu. The Boss wants us to create as big a stir as possible to draw
attention away from some covert teams on the other side of town doing some reconnaissance into a lab or
something." He shrugged.
Jessie nodded, then asked, "What… what is the Festival about, anyway? It seems kind of arbitrary,
someone putting on a festival for JUST the Raichu. If there was a festival for every Pokemon, nobody'd
ever get any peace."
James answered, "I dunno. Raichu are pretty powerful and popular Pokemon. If you're really interested
I'm sure someone at the Festival grounds could tell you." He stretched, crawled out of the bed, and padded
towards the bathroom for his turn in the shower. His damp underclothes clung to his form, giving Jessie a
nice view from behind (A.N. Oh, hell yes!). Jessie blushed, although she knew James hadn't seen her, and
flopped back on a pillow, falling asleep almost instantly.
Across town, a dim light radiated from a basement windowpane. The snow in front of it appeared to have
been recently disturbed, as it was gathered in a thick, slushy pile pushed back from the pane. In the room
behind the window, two figures crouched over a sewer map. The tall, thin male was poring over the map
with a magnifying glass, following a pipe throughout the city. "…goes south about four miles, then east…
too low, would flood if the snow melts, so…" he mumbled to himself in his raspy monotone.
His companion, a thin blonde, sat in a chair next to him, twirling her hair around her finger and swinging
her feet listlessly. "Butch," she whined, her voice hushed. "Why can't we go out tonight? I don't wanna
sit down here, it's humid and it makes my hair all frazzly!"
"Quit complaining, Cass. You'll wake up whoever owns this damn house and we'll be looking at the map
in a back alley. You wanna freeze your pretty little ass off?"
Cassidy frowned and kicked at the table leg. She heard a tingling of a small bell as a large, black cat
appeared from under a nearby bookshelf and wandered its way towards the intruders, meowing absently.
Cassidy eyed the animal, frowning wider, and bit her lip.
"…Through downtown, just down the streets from the fair grounds… only we need to check for
construction…" Butch looked up. "Hey, Cassidy, fire up that laptop, huh?"
The girl huffed and sifted through the bag at her feet, pulling out a small, almost weightless field
reconnaissance module and flipped on the power, and slid it towards her partner. She leaned back in her
chair again, instantly bored.
Butch poked at the keypad several times, then sat down, shifting his gaze between the outspread map and
the laptop alternately.
The cat was now advancing on Cassidy. She stared at it, and it stared right back, its yellow slit eyes never
wavering as it slowly padded towards the girl. Glaring at the large, sleek black animal, Cassidy put her feet
up on the table and leaned her chair back, fastening her gaze on the cat. It drew closer, closer, ever stoic
and unemotional.
"Ha! Got it!" Butch cried quietly. Cassidy jumped, startled, and her antagonistic feline friend took its
golden opportunity, and leaped onto her lap, setting the girl off-balance. Cassidy, the chair, and the cat
clattered to the ground. "Shit!" breathed Butch, as he gathered all their belongings together as quickly as
he could and scrambled towards the window. He could hear footsteps upstairs now. "Hurry up, dumbass!
You're gonna get us caught!"
Jessie was amazed at how bright the world could be after the sky had cleared itself of all its congestion.
She stood outside of Vermilion City's Pokemon center, her hands mittened and warm and tucked into her
jacket and everything good in the world. She saw James approaching from down the brightly-decorated
street, his ears tucked into a black knit hat, a scarf wrapped around his nose. He sneezed as he approached
her.
"Got a cold, Jamesy?" she chirped. He sniffed again in response.
"I shoulda changed out of those shorts last night. It's all your fault," he snuffled, poking her in the side.
"Get everything we needed?"
"Yup, it's in the room at the hotel. You get everything from the locker?"
James nodded and stomped his feet against the cold. He squinted as he thought he saw Meowth in the
distance. "No," he thought. "Our Meowth has more dignity than to run around on all fours. And… what's
that in its mouth?" His gaze turned from scrutiny to amazement as the Meowth drew closer and he saw
that, indeed, it WAS the Team Rocket Talking Meowth, carrying a dead fish in his mouth. The feline
glowered at James' gawking and motioned for the two humans to follow him into a nearby alley.
James grabbed Jessie's elbow and dragged her along with him, nearly knocking the girl over since she
wasn't paying much attention. She followed him dumbly into the narrow street, stumbling the entire way.
James followed Meowth behind a Dumpster. The irate feline spit the glassy-eyed dead fish out
dramatically. "I feel so dirty! Look watcha made me stoop to!" the cat yelped, rising to his feet and
kicking at the fishy corpse.
James grinned and asked if Meowth had completed his itinerary. "Yeah, I did… I can't believe this. The
only freakin' talkin' Meowth in the world an' I'm reduced ta walkin' 'round on all fours…"
Jessie repressed a laugh as Meowth bristled. "Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, Jess," the Pokemon growled,
"I don't think you'll be laughin' when I fury swipe your little…"
Jessie giggled. "Ah! You forget! I have a black belt!" She struck a karate pose, mocking the cat.
"Why you…"
James sighed and grabbed the arguing human and cat and started towards the Festival, hoping to break off
this spat before it turned into an all-out battle.
In the relative seclusion of a back booth in a small restaurant, Jessie and James discussed their plan in
hushed tones. Both leaned forward across the table, their faces inches apart. Empty plates were discarded
at their elbows. Nearby diners dismissed the pair as lovers, their whispered plots discarded as nothing but
sweet promises and dreams, the intensity of their eyes seen not as professional or conspiratory, but as a
gaze upon the other's soul. The two held the ruse rather well; Jessie's occasional giggle and James' ready
smile only served to advance the theory. Meowth was back at the hotel with take-out boxes, having had
enough of the incessant cheeriness of the Festival's aura, leaving his partners to finish the plotting.
"The parade is at seven, and it ends just north of the Show Pavillion. We should have no trouble getting
there and into position, because everyone will be along the streets watching," James murmured, illustrating
the locations with pieces of rice on the tablecloth. "It shouldn't be a problem." He sat back, content with
having a foolproof plan.
Jessie nodded. "Are we supposed to get arrested, or do we run afterwards? Did the boss say?"
"We'll have the balloon, so we can leave the city by air. After that we'll probably rent a car."
Jessie nodded again, sipping her cup of tea. "When does this happen?"
"The big Raichu show is at eight. It's…four o'clock now. We're all set up. Nothing left to do 'till then."
"And we have money left?"
"Quite a bit, actually."
Jessie's eyes glinted with feminine mischief. "Souvenirs! Let's go!" She grabbed James' arm and led him
from the restaurant, practically dancing as she walked.
Trudging through the sewers, Cassidy's uniform had mud up to the knees. She whimpered quietly as she
followed Butch down the darkened corridors, her boots giving her very little traction on the thin film of ice.
She shivered miserably. "Why are we doing this anyway?" she whined as she pulled her foot from a
particularly unpleasant-looking lump of brownish substance.
"I told you before," Butch sighed. "We've been falling behind, and if we don't come up with some
dastardly plan to catch a lot of Pokemon soon the Boss is gonna get mad. You DO want to be the Top
Rockets, don't you?" His voice sounded even raspier from the harsh cold of the underground tunnels. A
painful wind ran through the sewer, freezing the two and making their very bones ache. "We're almost
there," he continued. "Just up a… no, here." He studied his map again, scrutinizing the tiny blue lines
representing the sewer tunnels. "Waitaminute, if that's over THERE, then we have to go…right…"
"Who're you?!?" came a voice from behind the two.
Cassidy yelled and jumped forward, plowing into Butch and knocking him onto the damp ground. She
spun around to face the voice, pulling her gun and leveling it at an old man in a shabby jacket.
"Who are you!" the homeless man yelled again, waving his ratty shopping bags at the two. "Go on, get
out!"
Cassidy yelped and jumped again, scrambling over Butch in her haste. Her partner also clambered to his
feet and began backing away from the crotchety old man, who was now flailing and shouting, his bags
swinging, the contents falling out and scattering on the ground. The two Rockets hastened their retreat as
the old man started throwing things. An old sneaker narrowly missed Butch's head and plunked into the
water-filled gutter, convincing Butch and Cassidy to break into a run.
Rows and rows of joyfully trimmed booths lined the streets of Vermilion, proudly displaying their crafts
and wares. Blues and yellows danced on awnings while reds and every imaginable color of purple decked
flags and banners and tents. Jessie was mesmerized by the spectrums playing over every surface, as the
smell of carnival food, of hot funnel cakes, cotton candy, fast-food booths and sweet potatoes filled the air.
She dragged James behind her, oblivious to his occasional objections and attempts to point her in the
direction of the hotel. There were much, much more productive things that they could be doing right now.
He re-ran that line in his head and found himself going places not appropriate for public thought. He shook
his head, trying to clear his mind of sexual innuendo and behave himself for once.
Jessie stopped and bought some Pocky, munching on the sticks as she looked around for what to do first.
"Jessie," James interjected, "We really need to…" he trailed off, entertained by the way her eyes flitted
from one stand to the next, drinking in everything they could. He was abashed by the way her cheeks
flushed in the cold, by the way she jumped up and down from one foot to the other while eating her Pocky,
making her look like a child.
"Hmm?" she asked, absently. Glancing up at his face, she caught him admiring her. His eyes widened and
he blushed, and hastily decided to contemplate his shoes for a while until the color drained from his face.
He waited for a reprimand or a snide comment from the defensive young girl, but none came as he
continued to watch the ground. Concerned, he looked up again.
She was smiling at him. Not glowering or glaring or threatening. Smiling. She held out the candy to him
and asked, "Pocky?" Her face was angelic, perfect, it radiated beauty in the dim glow of the setting sun.
He bit his lip and gestured over the girl's shoulder. "Let's go check out the games." She grinned now and
did a little hop-step, and bounced towards the game booths. James regained his composure and tried to
slow his heartbeat as he followed her.
Jessie was euphoric. He had been watching her. That look… nobody had ever looked at her like that. Her
mother hadn't been an affectionate person, and she had died when she was young. The little Jessie had
been forced onto the streets and had lived a rough, traumatic childhood. Every man she had ever known
had either pushed her around, or abused her, or worse, and she had resolved to always hurt them before
they could touch her, but…
James was different. His elegance and grace extended to physical contact, and every time they touched it
was airy and beautiful and perfect. She stopped short in front of a shooting game, causing the boy to bump
into her from behind. She glanced up, and saw him blush yet again.
Seeing him like that and knowing she had something to do with it… the thought sent a rush of warmth up
her spine and made her dizzy, almost light-headed.
James tossed some coins on the counter and was handed the little shotgun. He aimed carefully, zeroing in
on the target, leaning forward. Jessie leaned forward, too, trying to get the same view as he had. As he
pulled the trigger, he felt her touch the small of his back to steady herself and keep her balance.
His careful aim went to hell and he shot one of the large stuffed animals hanging from the roof of the tent.
"This is not good," he thought to himself.
The column of bright lights that was the parade receded into the distance as Meowth stood sentinel on the
rail of the Rocket Balloon. With all the giant inflatable Pokemon in the parade, the balloon had gone
unnoticed by the Festival patrons. The scratch-cat Pokemon could see Jessie and James in a stand of trees
nearby, ready for their entrance in an hour. Meowth watched the steady stream of people pass below him,
bundled in their thick Pidgey-down jackets, many of them arm-in-arm. Lovers, most likely. He tried to
block Meowsy from his mind and concentrate on the task at hand, which was… to wait. He sighed, and
hoped Jess and James were having more fun than he was.
"Heads up, James!" Jessie squealed as the snowball she had thrown smacked him in the neck. "Oops, too
late, I guess." She giggled and ran off, the blue-haired bishonen on her heels.
The two darted through the crowd in the square where the Raichu Show would be held. James tackled his
partner, wrapping his arms around her waist, and plowing the two of them into a passing stranger and
strewing his armload of food on the ground. Jessie immediately jumped behind James in a sorry attempt to
hide.
The man they had run into glowered. "Damn kids, all rowdy, thinkin' the world is yours just 'cause you
imagine you're in love…" he shouted at them, glowering.
James heard Jessie making quiet sobbing noises behind him. Enraged, he felt compelled to defend her
honor, so he did the best he could off the top of his head. "She's… my sister!"
The man's jaw dropped. "Eh… echhi! You're even more of a redneck than I am, and that's a stretch!
With your SISTER? Damn!" The man stomped off, howling.
Jessie was shaking now. James turned and gathered her in his arms in an attempt to comfort her, when he
realized that she was actually laughing. Tears streamed down her face as her body was wracked with
hysterics.
"Your… SISTER?" she snorted, hiccuping. "You hentai!"
James whimpered. "Everyone's against me…"
The Raichu show was beginning. Dozens of the best-pedigreed Raichu in Kanto were lined up for judging,
groomed, well-fed, and beautiful.
"Ready?" whispered Butch. He fingered the trigger for the explosives, eyeing the overhead grate that led
up to the Show Pavillion.
"Yep," mumbled Cassidy, unconcerned.
"Great. Five… four…"
"Three… two… go, Meowth!"
On cue, Meowth tossed an armload of stun-bombs over the rail of the Rocket Balloon. But the resulting
explostion was not the result of a stun-bomb, or even a dozen stun-bombs. The area surrounding the
pavillion exploded in flying shrapnel and clods of dirt, as two figures appeared.
"To infect the world with devastation!" shouted one, her words choked with dust.
"To blite all peoples within every nation!" called the other, froggy-voiced.
"To denounce the goodness of Truth and Love!" continued the female.
James' stared on incredulously. "Jessie, is that who I think it is?"
"To extend our wrath to the stars above!"
"Yes, James. I believe it is," Jessie moaned.
"Butch!"
"Cassidy!"
James glanced at his partner, his eyebrow cocked. "Shall we thwart their devious plans, oh great Jessie?"
"Team Rocket, circling Earth all day and night!" The duo was really getting into their motto now.
Jessie smiled. "Yes, James. I think we shall."
"Surrender to us now or you'll surely lose the fight!"
James whispered something to Jessie, and then stepped back into a stand of trees and pulled out his radio.
"Meowth, you there?"
The handheld crackled for a moment, and then Meowth's voice came through in a muffled, very confused
tone. "Yeah, yeah Jamesy, I'm here. What the hell is goin' on down there?"
"Butch and Cassidy. Here to try and get on the Boss' good side, no doubt. Listen, we've got a plan.
Remember those nets that we had?"
Butch finished up the motto, pleased with himself. There were almost a dozen Raichu lying stunned, even
within his immediate reach. He grinned widely, reaching to his belt. "Pokeball, go…whoa!" Butch
gasped as he was swept up into the sky. "What the…"
Cassidy watched, amazed, as her partner was whisked away by a large Meowth-shaped balloon. "Damn,"
she thought. She glanced around her, noticing an Officer Jenny heading in her direction. She backed up
slowly, contemplating what to do next.
She had just decided the best option would be to run like hell, when she was tackled from behind by a
redheaded devil.
The two girls hit the dirt with a thud, their adrenaline coursing. It took a minute for Cassidy to identify
who was attacking her. When she did, she fought with more vigor than previously.
Jessie. She had hated Jessie ever since Pokemon Tech, since joining Team Rocket, since before she could
remember.
Jessie had Cassidy by the throat in a headlock, but Cassidy managed to turn slightly and bite Jessie's upper
arm, causing the latter to howl and release her grip. Cassidy lunged for her lifetime rival now, reaching her
meticulously groomed nails under Jessie's jacket and ripping through her shirt, into the tender flesh over
her ribcage. Jessie managed to reach up and grab Cassidy's arm to flip her, but Cassidy had better leverage
over her and managed to land on top. Cassidy rolled over and pulled her gun, aiming it at the completely
helpless Jessie.
She could hear shouting in the background, but Cassidy blocked it out, focusing on her target and enjoying
every second of Jessie's fear. The blonde sneered, enthralled by the look of terror on her captive's face.
"You have no idea how long I've been trying to do this, bitch," she muttered. "Just looking for an excuse.
Well, here it is, huh? I'm sure as hell gonna take it."
The action on the gun clicked back. Jessie's short life flashed before her eyes. She was only eighteen, she
had so many years to live. She had so much to live for, for Meowth, for… James. She imagined him
looking down on her laid out in a casket, and how he would mourn for her and never know how much his
friendship meant in her sorry little life. Her eyes watered as she squeezed them shut and heard the roar of a
handgun at close range. She waited for the warm death to surround her, for the sickening, thumping smash
of an entry wound, for the shattering and splintering of bones as the bullet ripped through delicate tissue,
and the momentary numbness before the white-hot tendrils of pain snaked their way up her nerves.
Nothing happened.
Cautiously, fully believing she was already dead, she opened her eyes. She saw James, her James, her best
friend, with his arm bleeding profusely, kneeling on top of the prone form of Cassidy and wrenching her
arms behind her back. The girl was cursing at James, who very easily ignored her. He was breathing
heavily.
"You alright, Jess?" he panted. She nodded numbly, crawling to her feet and stumbling awkwardly over to
her partner's side.
"You got hit. Is it… is it bad? Are you okay?" She touched his arm gingerly as the crowd rushed in
towards them. Police and ambulance sirens sounded in the distance. Officer Jenny pushed through the
crowd, shouting orders, and James shifted his weight off of his captive so Jenny could put handcuffs on the
girl.
Jessie helped her partner to his feet. He stood shakily, holding his arm tenderly. "Here," she murmured as
she pulled his trench coat off of his arm, eliciting a gasp of pain from him as the wound was brushed with
rough fabric. "Let me see…"
"Jessie," he laughed. "I'm fine, it's just a… hey. What's wrong?" Jessie threw her arms around his waist,
sobbing, clinging to him as if separation would sever her heart from her body. "Hey, really, I'm fine…" he
said, puzzled. "Jess, it's just a flesh wound, I'm okay."
"No, it's just…" she gasped, trembling. "It's just… I would have never been able… to thank you."
It was snowing, James noted from the bubbling hot tub in the Super Deluxe Fantasy Suite in the ritzy
Vermilion City Articuno Resort. He swirled the dregs of his glass of wine around and reached for the
bottle to refill. Next to him, Jessie sighed, her own glass suspended lazily between her forefinger and
thumb, idly stroking the bandage around his shoulder with her free hand.
"More wine?" he giggled to her. They were already on their third bottle and probably should have stopped
drinking, but when the city of Vermilion offers to lavish you with the best it has to offer, you take
advantage of that.
"Sure," she smiled faintly. "Nice of the mayor to give us this room, huh? And the fruit baskets, and the
cheese platter, and the Key to the City, and the wine…"
"And the lobster tail!" called Meowth from the next room, where he was watching free movies and helping
himself to the complimentary mini-bar.
"Well," James shrugged, "You save the city's most popular festival, you get rewarded. I'd do it again.
Wouldn't you?"
"Never in a million beers. Er. Years," she snorted, holding out her wineglass for more. "Fill 'er up,
James, you sexy thing, you."
James grinned. "Oh, you wanna play THAT game, do you?"
Outside, the snow fell ever thicker, coating the trees, the rooftops of the inns and markets, the restaurants
and homes. Power would fail in the entire city the next morning from the thick, foamy flakes, businesses
would be shut down, homes inescapable. But in their quiet little reverie, surrounded by hot water, bubbles,
and comfort, Team Rocket couldn't have cared less.
profiting from the production of this fic.
This is the winning fic from Zero's Fan Fic Challenge, and damn was I surprised! But I'm not going to
complain.
-----
"I'm sorry, sir, we're booked for the weekend," stated Biru for probably the twelfth time that evening.
The tourist huffed and threw his duffel on the floor. "What do you MEAN? You mean you can't squeeze
me in somewhere?"
Biru plastered on a syrupy smile and repeated, "I'm sorry, sir. It's a busy time for Vermilion, with the
Festival of the Raichu just ending. Maybe next time you should call ahead and make reservations?"
The man growled and stomped out of the lobby of the little inn. Biru shook his head. The morons one met
in the hospitality business…
In truth, there was one room left at the Vermilion City Shady Lane Inn, although Biru would never have
offered it to a man such as the one currently storming down the sidewalk. One room, with one bed, one
chair, and very shaky plumbing. It was Biru's personal policy to keep that room open as often as possible--
one never knew when one would truly need an open room.
Sighing, the elderly Japanese man settled down in the rickety oak chair. He spread a magazine on the
flaking Formica counter and steeled himself for the night.
Three articles later, he heard the squeaky hinges of the main door announce the arrival of yet another irate
potential customer he would, no doubt, deny the privilege of his final remaining room. A blast of cold air
stirred the drowsy atmosphere of the dusty old hotel, ruffling the pages of an undisturbed newspaper resting
neatly on a watermarked old coffee table. Biru pulled his sweater tighter around his shoulders and shifted
in his chair, dreading yet another argument.
"Excuse me, sir?"
The old man glanced up, and was immediately enchanted by the striking profile of a beautiful young man.
He wore a long, dark trench coat, the shoulders darkened and soggy from the wet slush pouring down in the
night outside. His hair was a radiant blue, though dirtied with spots of snow that melted and traveled down
the cerulean strands like so many icicles. The boy's eyes were what caught Biru the most, though. A quiet
desperation played through them, but was nearly drowned out by the sparkling radiance of repressed hope
and joy of life.
Biru gulped. "Yes?"
"Um, I was…could… do you have any rooms? I know about the festival and everything, but we're..." the
boy glanced over his shoulder at his companions, a girl about his own age, her black jacket wet and clingy,
her red hair matted. She held a bedraggled and exhausted Meowth in her arms, attempting to look
uninterested as she studied a dime store printed painting.
"…We're cold. And desperate. If anything, could we sit in here for a while and warm up?"
In the recesses of Biru's age-withered heart, he felt a swell of sympathy wash through him for this forlorn
trio. They were nothing more than children, college students at the most, probably too excited about the
Festival to bother with such things as reservations and planning.
Biru grunted in resignation and fished for the key to his sacred last room. "Here you go, boy," he mumbled
as he handed over the rusted key.
The boy smiled gratefully as his companion breathed a quiet "Thank god…"
Eyeing the girl warily, Biru growled directions to the room and returned to his magazine.
Crazy kids.
---
Jessie stumbled out of the dilapidated bathroom, her bare feet slapping on the wet tile, while attacking her
hair with a towel. The air in the room dried her eyes with hot blown forcefully from a vent in the corner.
The whole place smelled vaguely of mildew, but she was immensely happy to be showered and warm. She
shuffled across the thin carpet towards the bed where James was propped up, rolled in a blanket. His wet
clothes were discarded on the floor in a soggy pile.
Jessie smiled and tossed her towel on the back of the single, sagging chair, careful not to hit Meowth and
elicit his feline wrath. "Cold?" she grinned as she bounced onto the bed next to him.
James smirked and hugged his blankets closer. "Not any more. You?"
"Chilly. Lemme in there."
He raised an eyebrow as Jessie crawled under the blankets and pressed herself next to him, shivering. His
skin was warm but clammy, the residual moisture from the snow still clinging to his fine, goosebumped
skin. His boxers and undershirt were still damp, but warm now, and the wetness seeped into Jessie's
pajamas where she pressed against him. "Jessica," he giggled. "I never knew you though of me that way.
Perhaps I should go change my shorts?"
Jessie rolled her eyes and kicked his leg, muttering something about irrepressible males.
James grinned wider. "Ah, but you mean irresistible, don't you?"
Jessie growled again and resolved to change the subject before this became dangerous. "So where did you
stash the equipment?"
James sniffled. "Locker at the YMCA. We've got dozens of rubber gloves and what must be miles of
shockproof tubing. There are three dozen specialty Ultra balls, a two fake ID's and a false pedigree for
Meowth, reinforced nets, enough cash for roughly three weeks—though God knows why the Boss gave us
so much, two rubber suits, and rubber underwear—you can never be too safe. And, in case someone gets
suspicious and searches the locker, a pair of old gym socks to make it look authentic." He grinned and
sniffled again.
Jessie snickered and shifted slightly, glad to finally be warming up. Yawning, she asked, "So, what are we
here for, anyway?"
"What do you think we're here for?" James laughed, gaining his characteristic squeal, "To catch! That!
Pikachu!"
Jessie glared. "No, what are we really here for, moron."
Breathing deeply, James continued. "What's wrong with catching that Ketchum kid's rat? It does wonders
for publicity." He noticed his partner still glaring at him evenly, waiting for an explanation. "Okay, okay.
The real reason? Festival of the Raichu. The Boss wants us to create as big a stir as possible to draw
attention away from some covert teams on the other side of town doing some reconnaissance into a lab or
something." He shrugged.
Jessie nodded, then asked, "What… what is the Festival about, anyway? It seems kind of arbitrary,
someone putting on a festival for JUST the Raichu. If there was a festival for every Pokemon, nobody'd
ever get any peace."
James answered, "I dunno. Raichu are pretty powerful and popular Pokemon. If you're really interested
I'm sure someone at the Festival grounds could tell you." He stretched, crawled out of the bed, and padded
towards the bathroom for his turn in the shower. His damp underclothes clung to his form, giving Jessie a
nice view from behind (A.N. Oh, hell yes!). Jessie blushed, although she knew James hadn't seen her, and
flopped back on a pillow, falling asleep almost instantly.
Across town, a dim light radiated from a basement windowpane. The snow in front of it appeared to have
been recently disturbed, as it was gathered in a thick, slushy pile pushed back from the pane. In the room
behind the window, two figures crouched over a sewer map. The tall, thin male was poring over the map
with a magnifying glass, following a pipe throughout the city. "…goes south about four miles, then east…
too low, would flood if the snow melts, so…" he mumbled to himself in his raspy monotone.
His companion, a thin blonde, sat in a chair next to him, twirling her hair around her finger and swinging
her feet listlessly. "Butch," she whined, her voice hushed. "Why can't we go out tonight? I don't wanna
sit down here, it's humid and it makes my hair all frazzly!"
"Quit complaining, Cass. You'll wake up whoever owns this damn house and we'll be looking at the map
in a back alley. You wanna freeze your pretty little ass off?"
Cassidy frowned and kicked at the table leg. She heard a tingling of a small bell as a large, black cat
appeared from under a nearby bookshelf and wandered its way towards the intruders, meowing absently.
Cassidy eyed the animal, frowning wider, and bit her lip.
"…Through downtown, just down the streets from the fair grounds… only we need to check for
construction…" Butch looked up. "Hey, Cassidy, fire up that laptop, huh?"
The girl huffed and sifted through the bag at her feet, pulling out a small, almost weightless field
reconnaissance module and flipped on the power, and slid it towards her partner. She leaned back in her
chair again, instantly bored.
Butch poked at the keypad several times, then sat down, shifting his gaze between the outspread map and
the laptop alternately.
The cat was now advancing on Cassidy. She stared at it, and it stared right back, its yellow slit eyes never
wavering as it slowly padded towards the girl. Glaring at the large, sleek black animal, Cassidy put her feet
up on the table and leaned her chair back, fastening her gaze on the cat. It drew closer, closer, ever stoic
and unemotional.
"Ha! Got it!" Butch cried quietly. Cassidy jumped, startled, and her antagonistic feline friend took its
golden opportunity, and leaped onto her lap, setting the girl off-balance. Cassidy, the chair, and the cat
clattered to the ground. "Shit!" breathed Butch, as he gathered all their belongings together as quickly as
he could and scrambled towards the window. He could hear footsteps upstairs now. "Hurry up, dumbass!
You're gonna get us caught!"
Jessie was amazed at how bright the world could be after the sky had cleared itself of all its congestion.
She stood outside of Vermilion City's Pokemon center, her hands mittened and warm and tucked into her
jacket and everything good in the world. She saw James approaching from down the brightly-decorated
street, his ears tucked into a black knit hat, a scarf wrapped around his nose. He sneezed as he approached
her.
"Got a cold, Jamesy?" she chirped. He sniffed again in response.
"I shoulda changed out of those shorts last night. It's all your fault," he snuffled, poking her in the side.
"Get everything we needed?"
"Yup, it's in the room at the hotel. You get everything from the locker?"
James nodded and stomped his feet against the cold. He squinted as he thought he saw Meowth in the
distance. "No," he thought. "Our Meowth has more dignity than to run around on all fours. And… what's
that in its mouth?" His gaze turned from scrutiny to amazement as the Meowth drew closer and he saw
that, indeed, it WAS the Team Rocket Talking Meowth, carrying a dead fish in his mouth. The feline
glowered at James' gawking and motioned for the two humans to follow him into a nearby alley.
James grabbed Jessie's elbow and dragged her along with him, nearly knocking the girl over since she
wasn't paying much attention. She followed him dumbly into the narrow street, stumbling the entire way.
James followed Meowth behind a Dumpster. The irate feline spit the glassy-eyed dead fish out
dramatically. "I feel so dirty! Look watcha made me stoop to!" the cat yelped, rising to his feet and
kicking at the fishy corpse.
James grinned and asked if Meowth had completed his itinerary. "Yeah, I did… I can't believe this. The
only freakin' talkin' Meowth in the world an' I'm reduced ta walkin' 'round on all fours…"
Jessie repressed a laugh as Meowth bristled. "Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, Jess," the Pokemon growled,
"I don't think you'll be laughin' when I fury swipe your little…"
Jessie giggled. "Ah! You forget! I have a black belt!" She struck a karate pose, mocking the cat.
"Why you…"
James sighed and grabbed the arguing human and cat and started towards the Festival, hoping to break off
this spat before it turned into an all-out battle.
In the relative seclusion of a back booth in a small restaurant, Jessie and James discussed their plan in
hushed tones. Both leaned forward across the table, their faces inches apart. Empty plates were discarded
at their elbows. Nearby diners dismissed the pair as lovers, their whispered plots discarded as nothing but
sweet promises and dreams, the intensity of their eyes seen not as professional or conspiratory, but as a
gaze upon the other's soul. The two held the ruse rather well; Jessie's occasional giggle and James' ready
smile only served to advance the theory. Meowth was back at the hotel with take-out boxes, having had
enough of the incessant cheeriness of the Festival's aura, leaving his partners to finish the plotting.
"The parade is at seven, and it ends just north of the Show Pavillion. We should have no trouble getting
there and into position, because everyone will be along the streets watching," James murmured, illustrating
the locations with pieces of rice on the tablecloth. "It shouldn't be a problem." He sat back, content with
having a foolproof plan.
Jessie nodded. "Are we supposed to get arrested, or do we run afterwards? Did the boss say?"
"We'll have the balloon, so we can leave the city by air. After that we'll probably rent a car."
Jessie nodded again, sipping her cup of tea. "When does this happen?"
"The big Raichu show is at eight. It's…four o'clock now. We're all set up. Nothing left to do 'till then."
"And we have money left?"
"Quite a bit, actually."
Jessie's eyes glinted with feminine mischief. "Souvenirs! Let's go!" She grabbed James' arm and led him
from the restaurant, practically dancing as she walked.
Trudging through the sewers, Cassidy's uniform had mud up to the knees. She whimpered quietly as she
followed Butch down the darkened corridors, her boots giving her very little traction on the thin film of ice.
She shivered miserably. "Why are we doing this anyway?" she whined as she pulled her foot from a
particularly unpleasant-looking lump of brownish substance.
"I told you before," Butch sighed. "We've been falling behind, and if we don't come up with some
dastardly plan to catch a lot of Pokemon soon the Boss is gonna get mad. You DO want to be the Top
Rockets, don't you?" His voice sounded even raspier from the harsh cold of the underground tunnels. A
painful wind ran through the sewer, freezing the two and making their very bones ache. "We're almost
there," he continued. "Just up a… no, here." He studied his map again, scrutinizing the tiny blue lines
representing the sewer tunnels. "Waitaminute, if that's over THERE, then we have to go…right…"
"Who're you?!?" came a voice from behind the two.
Cassidy yelled and jumped forward, plowing into Butch and knocking him onto the damp ground. She
spun around to face the voice, pulling her gun and leveling it at an old man in a shabby jacket.
"Who are you!" the homeless man yelled again, waving his ratty shopping bags at the two. "Go on, get
out!"
Cassidy yelped and jumped again, scrambling over Butch in her haste. Her partner also clambered to his
feet and began backing away from the crotchety old man, who was now flailing and shouting, his bags
swinging, the contents falling out and scattering on the ground. The two Rockets hastened their retreat as
the old man started throwing things. An old sneaker narrowly missed Butch's head and plunked into the
water-filled gutter, convincing Butch and Cassidy to break into a run.
Rows and rows of joyfully trimmed booths lined the streets of Vermilion, proudly displaying their crafts
and wares. Blues and yellows danced on awnings while reds and every imaginable color of purple decked
flags and banners and tents. Jessie was mesmerized by the spectrums playing over every surface, as the
smell of carnival food, of hot funnel cakes, cotton candy, fast-food booths and sweet potatoes filled the air.
She dragged James behind her, oblivious to his occasional objections and attempts to point her in the
direction of the hotel. There were much, much more productive things that they could be doing right now.
He re-ran that line in his head and found himself going places not appropriate for public thought. He shook
his head, trying to clear his mind of sexual innuendo and behave himself for once.
Jessie stopped and bought some Pocky, munching on the sticks as she looked around for what to do first.
"Jessie," James interjected, "We really need to…" he trailed off, entertained by the way her eyes flitted
from one stand to the next, drinking in everything they could. He was abashed by the way her cheeks
flushed in the cold, by the way she jumped up and down from one foot to the other while eating her Pocky,
making her look like a child.
"Hmm?" she asked, absently. Glancing up at his face, she caught him admiring her. His eyes widened and
he blushed, and hastily decided to contemplate his shoes for a while until the color drained from his face.
He waited for a reprimand or a snide comment from the defensive young girl, but none came as he
continued to watch the ground. Concerned, he looked up again.
She was smiling at him. Not glowering or glaring or threatening. Smiling. She held out the candy to him
and asked, "Pocky?" Her face was angelic, perfect, it radiated beauty in the dim glow of the setting sun.
He bit his lip and gestured over the girl's shoulder. "Let's go check out the games." She grinned now and
did a little hop-step, and bounced towards the game booths. James regained his composure and tried to
slow his heartbeat as he followed her.
Jessie was euphoric. He had been watching her. That look… nobody had ever looked at her like that. Her
mother hadn't been an affectionate person, and she had died when she was young. The little Jessie had
been forced onto the streets and had lived a rough, traumatic childhood. Every man she had ever known
had either pushed her around, or abused her, or worse, and she had resolved to always hurt them before
they could touch her, but…
James was different. His elegance and grace extended to physical contact, and every time they touched it
was airy and beautiful and perfect. She stopped short in front of a shooting game, causing the boy to bump
into her from behind. She glanced up, and saw him blush yet again.
Seeing him like that and knowing she had something to do with it… the thought sent a rush of warmth up
her spine and made her dizzy, almost light-headed.
James tossed some coins on the counter and was handed the little shotgun. He aimed carefully, zeroing in
on the target, leaning forward. Jessie leaned forward, too, trying to get the same view as he had. As he
pulled the trigger, he felt her touch the small of his back to steady herself and keep her balance.
His careful aim went to hell and he shot one of the large stuffed animals hanging from the roof of the tent.
"This is not good," he thought to himself.
The column of bright lights that was the parade receded into the distance as Meowth stood sentinel on the
rail of the Rocket Balloon. With all the giant inflatable Pokemon in the parade, the balloon had gone
unnoticed by the Festival patrons. The scratch-cat Pokemon could see Jessie and James in a stand of trees
nearby, ready for their entrance in an hour. Meowth watched the steady stream of people pass below him,
bundled in their thick Pidgey-down jackets, many of them arm-in-arm. Lovers, most likely. He tried to
block Meowsy from his mind and concentrate on the task at hand, which was… to wait. He sighed, and
hoped Jess and James were having more fun than he was.
"Heads up, James!" Jessie squealed as the snowball she had thrown smacked him in the neck. "Oops, too
late, I guess." She giggled and ran off, the blue-haired bishonen on her heels.
The two darted through the crowd in the square where the Raichu Show would be held. James tackled his
partner, wrapping his arms around her waist, and plowing the two of them into a passing stranger and
strewing his armload of food on the ground. Jessie immediately jumped behind James in a sorry attempt to
hide.
The man they had run into glowered. "Damn kids, all rowdy, thinkin' the world is yours just 'cause you
imagine you're in love…" he shouted at them, glowering.
James heard Jessie making quiet sobbing noises behind him. Enraged, he felt compelled to defend her
honor, so he did the best he could off the top of his head. "She's… my sister!"
The man's jaw dropped. "Eh… echhi! You're even more of a redneck than I am, and that's a stretch!
With your SISTER? Damn!" The man stomped off, howling.
Jessie was shaking now. James turned and gathered her in his arms in an attempt to comfort her, when he
realized that she was actually laughing. Tears streamed down her face as her body was wracked with
hysterics.
"Your… SISTER?" she snorted, hiccuping. "You hentai!"
James whimpered. "Everyone's against me…"
The Raichu show was beginning. Dozens of the best-pedigreed Raichu in Kanto were lined up for judging,
groomed, well-fed, and beautiful.
"Ready?" whispered Butch. He fingered the trigger for the explosives, eyeing the overhead grate that led
up to the Show Pavillion.
"Yep," mumbled Cassidy, unconcerned.
"Great. Five… four…"
"Three… two… go, Meowth!"
On cue, Meowth tossed an armload of stun-bombs over the rail of the Rocket Balloon. But the resulting
explostion was not the result of a stun-bomb, or even a dozen stun-bombs. The area surrounding the
pavillion exploded in flying shrapnel and clods of dirt, as two figures appeared.
"To infect the world with devastation!" shouted one, her words choked with dust.
"To blite all peoples within every nation!" called the other, froggy-voiced.
"To denounce the goodness of Truth and Love!" continued the female.
James' stared on incredulously. "Jessie, is that who I think it is?"
"To extend our wrath to the stars above!"
"Yes, James. I believe it is," Jessie moaned.
"Butch!"
"Cassidy!"
James glanced at his partner, his eyebrow cocked. "Shall we thwart their devious plans, oh great Jessie?"
"Team Rocket, circling Earth all day and night!" The duo was really getting into their motto now.
Jessie smiled. "Yes, James. I think we shall."
"Surrender to us now or you'll surely lose the fight!"
James whispered something to Jessie, and then stepped back into a stand of trees and pulled out his radio.
"Meowth, you there?"
The handheld crackled for a moment, and then Meowth's voice came through in a muffled, very confused
tone. "Yeah, yeah Jamesy, I'm here. What the hell is goin' on down there?"
"Butch and Cassidy. Here to try and get on the Boss' good side, no doubt. Listen, we've got a plan.
Remember those nets that we had?"
Butch finished up the motto, pleased with himself. There were almost a dozen Raichu lying stunned, even
within his immediate reach. He grinned widely, reaching to his belt. "Pokeball, go…whoa!" Butch
gasped as he was swept up into the sky. "What the…"
Cassidy watched, amazed, as her partner was whisked away by a large Meowth-shaped balloon. "Damn,"
she thought. She glanced around her, noticing an Officer Jenny heading in her direction. She backed up
slowly, contemplating what to do next.
She had just decided the best option would be to run like hell, when she was tackled from behind by a
redheaded devil.
The two girls hit the dirt with a thud, their adrenaline coursing. It took a minute for Cassidy to identify
who was attacking her. When she did, she fought with more vigor than previously.
Jessie. She had hated Jessie ever since Pokemon Tech, since joining Team Rocket, since before she could
remember.
Jessie had Cassidy by the throat in a headlock, but Cassidy managed to turn slightly and bite Jessie's upper
arm, causing the latter to howl and release her grip. Cassidy lunged for her lifetime rival now, reaching her
meticulously groomed nails under Jessie's jacket and ripping through her shirt, into the tender flesh over
her ribcage. Jessie managed to reach up and grab Cassidy's arm to flip her, but Cassidy had better leverage
over her and managed to land on top. Cassidy rolled over and pulled her gun, aiming it at the completely
helpless Jessie.
She could hear shouting in the background, but Cassidy blocked it out, focusing on her target and enjoying
every second of Jessie's fear. The blonde sneered, enthralled by the look of terror on her captive's face.
"You have no idea how long I've been trying to do this, bitch," she muttered. "Just looking for an excuse.
Well, here it is, huh? I'm sure as hell gonna take it."
The action on the gun clicked back. Jessie's short life flashed before her eyes. She was only eighteen, she
had so many years to live. She had so much to live for, for Meowth, for… James. She imagined him
looking down on her laid out in a casket, and how he would mourn for her and never know how much his
friendship meant in her sorry little life. Her eyes watered as she squeezed them shut and heard the roar of a
handgun at close range. She waited for the warm death to surround her, for the sickening, thumping smash
of an entry wound, for the shattering and splintering of bones as the bullet ripped through delicate tissue,
and the momentary numbness before the white-hot tendrils of pain snaked their way up her nerves.
Nothing happened.
Cautiously, fully believing she was already dead, she opened her eyes. She saw James, her James, her best
friend, with his arm bleeding profusely, kneeling on top of the prone form of Cassidy and wrenching her
arms behind her back. The girl was cursing at James, who very easily ignored her. He was breathing
heavily.
"You alright, Jess?" he panted. She nodded numbly, crawling to her feet and stumbling awkwardly over to
her partner's side.
"You got hit. Is it… is it bad? Are you okay?" She touched his arm gingerly as the crowd rushed in
towards them. Police and ambulance sirens sounded in the distance. Officer Jenny pushed through the
crowd, shouting orders, and James shifted his weight off of his captive so Jenny could put handcuffs on the
girl.
Jessie helped her partner to his feet. He stood shakily, holding his arm tenderly. "Here," she murmured as
she pulled his trench coat off of his arm, eliciting a gasp of pain from him as the wound was brushed with
rough fabric. "Let me see…"
"Jessie," he laughed. "I'm fine, it's just a… hey. What's wrong?" Jessie threw her arms around his waist,
sobbing, clinging to him as if separation would sever her heart from her body. "Hey, really, I'm fine…" he
said, puzzled. "Jess, it's just a flesh wound, I'm okay."
"No, it's just…" she gasped, trembling. "It's just… I would have never been able… to thank you."
It was snowing, James noted from the bubbling hot tub in the Super Deluxe Fantasy Suite in the ritzy
Vermilion City Articuno Resort. He swirled the dregs of his glass of wine around and reached for the
bottle to refill. Next to him, Jessie sighed, her own glass suspended lazily between her forefinger and
thumb, idly stroking the bandage around his shoulder with her free hand.
"More wine?" he giggled to her. They were already on their third bottle and probably should have stopped
drinking, but when the city of Vermilion offers to lavish you with the best it has to offer, you take
advantage of that.
"Sure," she smiled faintly. "Nice of the mayor to give us this room, huh? And the fruit baskets, and the
cheese platter, and the Key to the City, and the wine…"
"And the lobster tail!" called Meowth from the next room, where he was watching free movies and helping
himself to the complimentary mini-bar.
"Well," James shrugged, "You save the city's most popular festival, you get rewarded. I'd do it again.
Wouldn't you?"
"Never in a million beers. Er. Years," she snorted, holding out her wineglass for more. "Fill 'er up,
James, you sexy thing, you."
James grinned. "Oh, you wanna play THAT game, do you?"
Outside, the snow fell ever thicker, coating the trees, the rooftops of the inns and markets, the restaurants
and homes. Power would fail in the entire city the next morning from the thick, foamy flakes, businesses
would be shut down, homes inescapable. But in their quiet little reverie, surrounded by hot water, bubbles,
and comfort, Team Rocket couldn't have cared less.