Disclaimer – I don't own Pokemon. By the way, this story is rated PG-13 for language and stuff, however most of this is outside of the actual fic, therefore if you don't read either the authors note I occasionally put at the beginning or the thing I write at the end you should be ok.
Ages:
Ash – 18
Misty – 17½
Brock – 21
Karate, Kung Fu and Forty-Seven Other Dangerous Words(or 'Spy Games')
Part IMy name is Ashton Satoshi Ketchum, man of mystery and international spy, but for the sake of things just call me Ash. I can't tell you much more than that, I don't want to put others in danger and I've already told you too much. All I can say is that I am part of an organization called Excalibur so secret that not even the government knows it exists.
But that's not really what this is about.
This is about her.
I admit I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, some worse than others, but this is by far the worst of them all.
I fell in love.
I didn't mean to, I didn't plan it, it just happened. I tried not to, I really did, I tried to push myself away from her but ended up pushing myself closer to her, it was futile and I only fell deeper under her spell no matter what I did.
I first got into the spy business when I was twelve, yeah, I know that's a little young to be a secret agent but here I am 6 years later still going strong.
I got into this whole thing by accident, but its no accident that I'm still here. I was trying to avenge my father's death, which had happened five years earlier, when they spotted me trying to get his killers, a large and powerful illegal drug corporation called Team Rocket, and making them pay for what they had done to my family. I know it's not the smartest thing to do but I guess I was young, impetuous and angry.
I was seven years old when I watched two Rockets shoot my father so when I recognized one of them five years later I just couldn't stand back and watch them hurt more innocent people and Pokemon.
I guess that Excalibur liked my style.
Well, it turned out my dad was a spy long before I was born, before he met my mom. He went by just the one name and it's a name that still strikes terror in the hearts of evil today, Cypress. I guess it was kind of my destiny to become a spy and break the very same rule as my father.
Never, under any circumstances, fall in love.
We're the reason that they created that rule.
My dad fell in love with an herbalist from a small seaside town. Delilah Azalea Sage. My dad left the spy industry, took up a regular job and changed his name to Michael Ketchum and for a long time we all just lived happily ever after, but then that didn't last too long and this is no fairy tale.
So I guess it's my turn now to play the hero in the legacy my father left behind.
But then that's not what this story is about either. This is about Misty.
Misty Kasumi Waterflower, the girl that sits across from me as I speak curling a strand of her copper coloured hair around her perfectly manicured index finger. She stifles a yawn doing a much better job of listening then I am. But then she hasn't been in this business quite as long as I have. She hasn't sat at this very same table for six whole years hearing the Rockets unchanging plots.
I pretended to make notes anyway, pretend that I'm not watching her instead, but I am, I always am. I pretend that our four years together as partners has brought nothing but friendship. I pretend not to worry about her when I don't see her and I pretend not to feel my heart breaking in two when she cries. I pretend not to think about her constantly, the clear cerulean green of her eyes, the rose red colour of her lips, the perfect strands of auburn spread through her hair, the smooth touch of her perfect creamy skin, the . . .
"Ash Ketchum!" she cried jarring me from my thoughts. "Did you even hear what I just said?"
"Oh I'm sorry Myst. I was just . . ."
"Daydreaming?" she asked smugly finishing off my sentence.
"I was listening," I argued.
"Really? Then what's out next mission?" she asked smiling ever so sweetly with that permanent glint of mischief in her eyes. God I love her smile.
"To save Pokemon from being mutated, used, abused or just mistreated in general by Team Rocket and hence destroy their latest scheme which chances are is so completely and utterly senseless that it probably would have failed without our help and destroy their latest headquarters while kicking a little Rocket ass just for fun," I rattle off the top of my head in the one breath with very little thought. (A/N: I dare each and every one of you to try that, it is not easy)
She glared at me. Sometimes I wonder what she's thinking about while she's doing that, I mean she can't really want to kill me that much, can she? I wonder what it would be like to be able to read Misty's mind.
"Lucky guess," she said distastefully, "but that doesn't prove anything."
"But I was paying attention," I whined. Misty hates it when I whine, but that's just all the more reason to do so, she looks so cute when she's annoyed.
"Really?" she asked disbelieving in a bored tone. "Then why don't we just take a lil' ole squiz at your notes."
I looked down at my page and hoped to god that I wasn't blushing at the words I had absentmindedly scrawled across my page. Misty Kasumi Ketchum, Mrs. M Ketchum, Misty and Ashton Satoshi Ketchum, Mrs. Misty Ketchum, Misty Kasumi Waterflower Ketchum, Misty K. Ketchum Waterflower, Mrs. M. K. Ketchum Waterflower.
"Fine," I said looking up and hiding my notes. "You win, I wasn't listening."
Misty smiled smugly.
"So what's the plan?" I asked.
"Well that's why I was trying to get your attention genius," she sneered still gorgeous as ever.
"Well lets get started then," I said a slight edge in my voice as it came out much louder than I had intended it to.
"Fine then."
"Fine."
"Fine."
"Fine," I said again my voice getting louder. I'm not sure why, I didn't even think I was angry, I guess I was just caught up in the heat of the moment.
"Fine," she echoed her eyes flaring dangerously and her red hair much redder than usual. She sure is beautiful when she's angry.
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
"FINE."
"FINE!"
Brock Slate walked in stopping at least the yelling part of the squabble. He's one of our fellow spies and kind of like an older brother to Misty and I.
"Is everything ok? I . . ." Brock asked trailing off as he recognized Misty and I standing opposite each other in fighting stances.
We barely acknowledge his presence with a nod and just continued to focus on one another.
"Oh its only you two," he laughed. "Gee, I thought someone might have been hurt or something with all the yelling that was going on in here."
We both turned and refocused our glares on Brock.
Brock chuckled to himself. "You know if I didn't know any better I'd swear you guys hated each other."
"And what's that supposed to mean Slate?" she asked angrily pronouncing the last words distastefully her trademark Waterflower glare spreading across her perfect features. Misty always reverted to last names when she was really angry as if she didn't want to dignify them by using their first. I've been called Ketchum on more than one occasion but I think that after a while she just got lazy and started sticking with Ash no matter how angry I got her.
"N-n-nothing Misty," Brock stuttered nervously backing away slowly. "No sudden movements," he muttered quietly to himself.
Misty either didn't notice or was far too caught up in her yelling to care.
"It better be," she snarled.
I couldn't help but laugh, sure Misty could be terrifying but I never really thought she was that bad. It was positively halairious, I mean, Brock, a 21-year-old guy cowering from Misty and using his clip board as means of protection.
"And what are you laughing at?" she asked haughtily. It seemed all her anger towards Brock had suddenly been refocused on me.
"Don't worry Myst, I wasn't laughing at you."
"Then what?" she asked her eyebrows raised suspiciously.
"Him," I said hiking my thumb in Brocks direction. "He's 21, over 6ft tall, well armed and a guy and he's cowering from you unarmed, 17 ½ and practically harmless."
"Oh," Misty replied carefully placing her mallet back in her bag. Brock ran out of the room while her back was turned.
"Now what were we talking about before Brock so rudely interrupted us," I said jokingly in an aristocratic accent.
Misty giggled. "The way I remember things we weren't exactly talking," she laughed.
It was strange how Misty and I could be at each other's throats one minute then just be like this the next. Just best friends, no yelling or screaming, just the two of us joking around like nothing had even happened.
"So how do we get past the guards this time?" I ask trying to distinguish the different ways that we usually use. "We may need more than our basic ass kicking skills to penetrate them this time."
"What makes you think they've learnt their lesson?" she asked.
"Because, its how we've gotten in the last ten times," I told her. "I figure there's at least one person in Team Rocket with half a brain."
"I don't," she replied, "but seeing as you insist, how about we put them on ice."
"Not going to work this time," I told her. "Its already too warm, they'll thaw too quickly."
"I guess," she said. "Anyway, you said Lapras wasn't feeling well, Vaporeon can't do twenty guards on her own."
"What makes you say twenty?" I asked. Misty and I had this sort of bet going on for each mission where we bet on how many guards we would have to beat this time. The winner's prize was to have the loser as their slave for a day. Misty was my slave last week.
She shrugged. "Just call it a hunch," she said with a sly smile.
"You know using psychic Pokemon is against the rules," I replied. "And Psyduck counts."
"Are you accusing me of cheating Mr. Ketchum?" she asked eyes wide with mock shock.
"I wouldn't be standing upright if I was."
"Then I'll take that as a no," she smiled. "So ideas?
"Sleeping powder I guess," I said shrugging my shoulders.
"Uh-uh," she said shaking her head, her copper hair brushing lightly across her bare shoulders. "I heard rumors that they've discovered how to protect themselves from your Pokemons unique form of sleep powder. It's too risky Ash."
It's strange the things you notice. I'm supposed to be sitting here working out a plan for stopping Team Rocket yet again, yet all I can think about is how beautiful my name sounds when she says it.
I nodded thoughtfully trying to look like I was thinking about what she had said and trying to devise a plan, not the sound of her harmonic voice whispering my name in my head and how I could make her say it again.
"I've got it," she said so suddenly I felt myself jump noticeably
"What?" I asked.
"Hypnosis," she said proudly. "It's flawless, it's not like anyone in Team Rocket has a mind strong enough to fight it. I'll use Togepei you can use Hypno. It's so simple I'm surprised we never used it before."
"You know," I said as a second idea came to mind. "Maybe we could hypnotize them into believing that Team Rocket didn't exist."
"I was just going to make them cluck like chickens, but that'll work," she said with a smile.
"So what's the deal this time anyway?" I asked.
"Team Rocket have kidnapped some of the best Scientists in the country," she told him. "We're not sure of all the details but they're in grave danger and they're working on some kind of machine or drug or microchip to turn Pokemon against their masters. It's said to be irreversible."
I cringed. "So your saying that if we mess this up, we're in deep shit and not just with the boss."
Misty nodded. "We have to get rid of anything even remotely linked to any research or practical work going on in those labs and we have to make sure that it never gets past a prototype, and that's worst case scenario."
Suddenly a small yellow Pokemon in the chair between Misty and I woke up diverting our attention slightly from our 'impending doom'.
"Finally Pikachu," I said. "How in gods name did you manage to sleep 24hrs straight without feeling hungry?"
Misty replied before Pikachu got the chance. "Maybe unlike his master, Pikachu doesn't live for his stomach."
"I do not," I replied crossing my arms over my chest and getting ready for another round of verbal abuse from both sides.
Misty smiled coyly. You never quite knew what would happen next with Misty. She had a short fuse, but that didn't mean she always blew up in your face. Most of the time she was cool, calm, witty and malicious and that was when you should be most afraid, be very afraid.
"Well you better rest Ash. We don't want you daydreaming in the middle of our mission, do we Pikachu?" she asked reaching down to stroke the Pokemon who curled into her touch. "Come with me Pikachu and I'll get you recharged. I'll wake you up at seven, k?" she finished as she bent low so Pikachu could jump onto her shoulder and walked out the room.
'How am I ever supposed to get to sleep now?' I wondered to myself as I walked to my room. 'If I try to get to sleep, I'll think about her and won't be able to stop. If I actually get to sleep, which by the way is quite unlikely, I'll dream of her. And when I wake up she'll be the first person I'll see, which is probably the main reason I can't get to sleep in the first place.'
Actually, that doesn't sound too bad.
Surprisingly, I fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow. A sleep haunted by images of a certain redhead.
End of Part I
Voila! This is of course the first chapter done of what shall be referred to as Spy Games because I'm far too lazy to write out the whole title, or copy and paste it from the title. Fuck, I am lazy.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed and it wasn't as dreadful as I suspected this being my first attempt at the 'Mission Impossible' type story, Misty of course being said impossible mission.
Please review.