What if

Summary: She saw him first, but she 'was' the first. What happens when Misty and Serena meet for the first time? What crazy feats will they commit for love? Rated M for adult content.

Rating: M

Genre: Humor/Romance

sub-genre: Friendship/action/adventure

Disclaimer: I do not own pokemon in any fashion.

It should be noted that they are not ten in this story.

What if, Chapter 1:

Brock stopped in at Pallet Town after Ash's crippling defeat in Kalos.

He lost again.

For the sixth time in a row.

A deep yell came from the kitchen; the figments of a muffled swear screeching out from every possible orifice of the white house down the road. Up the road a way, the pokemon doctor in training froze, the map he was holding slipped from his fingers as he inhaled and smacked his lips. His brown hair gleamed in the summer sun and he gnawed on his bottom lip nervously; sparing only a brief glance at his red-haired companion who looked just as shocked as him.

...Clearly, Ash was not handling the loss very well.

"Do you think it's safe?" the nervous, red-haired Cerulean City Gym leader asked from her spot a pace behind Brock, who sucked in a breath of fresh-farm air to calm his nerves.

"It's just Ash...so, what ever it is, maybe he's not that mad." Brock tried, wincing as another yell shouted from the inside of the farm house.

"Right." Misty murmured regaining the trot of her step.

While Brock seemed unchanged in the eight years since the start of Ash's journey, Misty had not suffered the same stunted growth. Her hair was long, tied up in a high pony tail. Her face had long lost its flush, childish gleam, but instead was replaced by a woman behind sea-green eyes. Her shoulders were broader from years of swimming, and her barely-visible stomach was toned; matching her creamy, long, athletic legs. And that did not include where she had grown elsewhere over the years. But Brock, being the gentleman that he was—not to mention, sane—would never, even on his worst days, stoop to hitting on Misty Waterflower.

Not only were they best friends. She was entirely prone to hit him, or break limbs if he even tried it. So yes, while she was pretty to look at—he thanked the heavens she refused to showcase her body with an appropriate outfit. Misty wore a pair of ill-fitted short-pants that stopped a little ways after her knees; matched with a red v-neck t-shirt under an open, yellow, mid-crop vest with a blue collar that matched her jeans. To finish off the gawky assortment of clothing, she wore red sneakers with yellow lines drawn on each side.

Brock chuckled as they reached the door step. At least she outgrew the suspenders finally.

Misty was the first to raise her fist to knock by tapping her pale knuckles against the wooden door gently. Both trainers heard an assortment of shuffling from inside of the house, Delia's voice most prominently stood out, demanding that Ash stay where he was seated and if she heard him move she would... the words were muffled, but Misty could only wonder. She glanced at Brock worriedly.

It was a holiday in the regions of Kanto and Johto, so both trainers had the weekend of Ash's defeat off. After a short phone call with Delia, Misty decided to phone Brock and see if he was interested in visiting their old friend. Even though Misty kept in contact with Ash through email, it had technically been years since they last saw each other in person. Brock was no different. After Sinnoh region, and a brief depression—Ash went onto join the Unova league and Kalos region on his own. The first time he ever traveled without one of his old-friends, and both worried about him non-stop because over the last two years, Ash essentially stopped emailing the both of them.

Well...aside from his last week, letting them know that he lost. Again.

"Just a minute!" They heard an unfamiliar female voice call from inside of the house, followed by fleeing footfalls and the slam of the back door. Both former-companions eyed one another.

Urging her own bravery—toppled with the fact that Misty usually didn't knock when entering the Ketchum resident-she swung the door open slowly and peaked inside. Both mother and unknown-female were gone, so slowly, Brock and Misty slipped into the house, removing their shoes to escape the summer heat. The air-conditioned wind gusted them as they fanned their faces. Having not realized just how hot it had been outside until they found their way into a well ventilated area.

"Delia?" Misty called into the calm house.

Both Brock and Misty heard an elated shuffle from inside of the kitchen which was located to the right of the front door, followed quickly by a muffled swear. They shared another, worried look. Unlike Brock, who hesitated, hanging back at the door to survey the area; Misty sprung in to action, hopping up the short-lip of the stairs at the entrance, and racing into the kitchen.

Being who she was, she was ready to pounce, maim, or injure anyone that threatened her old friends; luckily, that was unnecessary as she ran directly into the body of another person; who fell backwards onto the ground with a loud thump and yelp. She remained standing only by sheer will and her intense grip on the kitchen door frame. Staggering, she shook her head to view the body that had tumbled before her and gasped.

"Ash?" She rushed to his side, where he held his nose and visibly winced—having bumped it against her forehead. He squeezed squeezed the bridge of his nose with his left hand while Misty fanned him, trying to move his hand just enough to check the nose. It wasn't broken, or bleeding luckily.

"Why is your head so hard?" Ash groaned.

"Why didn't you say anything when you heard us, you goof?" She scolded effortlessly, ignoring his comment as she helped him up into a seated position where he waved her off with his right hand—which was...

"Oh my arceus." She gasped upon seeing Ash's mangled hand. On cue, Brock turned the corner into the kitchen and equally paused.

"What the hell did you do?" Misty exhaled breathlessly as she and Brock lifted Ash from the ground—Ash chuckled as they limped him to the seat that was pulled out beside the table. Where he had been sitting previously.

"I got into a fight with the wall." Ash joked, rubbing beneath his nose with his left hand while Brock examined the other.

"By the looks of it, the wall won." Brock suggested while blinking his eyes open enough to view the twisted appearance of Ash's fist. Pressing his fingers against Ash's flesh, the raven-haired boy nearly screamed, biting his tongue instead. Blood traced his knuckle pattern and a bit of dry wall lodged between his fingers. His black glove was ripped in two places, and his knuckles were smashed—already bruising; that didn't include the possibility of a sprained wrist.

Standing away from the injury, as she was no doctor herself, Misty glanced around the kitchen, quickly spotting Ash's 'attacker': the wall beside the corded phone, between a shelf and the refrigerator. His entire fist appeared to have gone through the dry-wall because a hole about the size of both of Misty's fists was there. It looked like Delia, and who-ever that other person was decided to just pull his fist out rather than calling authorities; because flakes of the wall poked diagonally outward, dripping with small amounts of blood. Misty would not want to pay that repair fee.

Misty heaved a loud sigh, and Ash grumbled, preparing for the imminent scolding.

"So were you born stupid; or was this something that just happened?" She mocked him, raising her eyebrows. "Where did your mom go, anyways?"

"Up stairs, to find the first aid kit." he muttered, puckering his lips at her insult. "I'm not stupid." He offered flatly.

Brock set his backpack down, luckily having his own first aid kit. He motioned for Misty who knelt beside her companions as Brock guided her hand to hold Ash's fore arm up to keep it steady as he removed some of the dry wall, and dabbed the wound with gauze. She squeezed, and Ash's face grimaced slightly, amazed by her still powerful grip. From this angle, she could see the droplets of fresh blood soaking into the thigh of his jeans and she growled.

"Did you just do this?" She asked, giving him an evil-gaze. He couldn't match her stare for a number of reasons; the first being that she was oddly intimidating, the way her long eyelashes combed over her green eyes and her lips pursed; the second being that when Brock touched his fingers, he wanted to throw his head back and scream.

"Yes." He winced breathlessly as Brock cut off Ash's black glove.

"Gee, living with you, you would think Delia would have a first aid kit closer to home." She mocked, though slightly relieved that Ash wasn't as mad as he was in pain. Brock shared in her relief.

"Traveling with you I had to have a first aid-kit all the time." Misty twitched.

"At least I'm not the one that broke my fist on a wall." she argued, watching Ash sputter.

"At least I don't have red hair." He mocked, adjusting his hat for emphasis.

"That's not even an insult!" She shrieked shaking her head at him.

"STOP!" Brock shouted at the two of them, feeling a bead of sweat run down his head. "I can't concentrate with you two bickering!" He yelled, and both Ash and Misty fell into a silent trap where they shared looks of apology with one another; as they typically did. It was good to know that somethings never changed. They grinned.

A few minutes later, Brock had fashioned Ash with a wrap that would reduce the swelling as Misty hopped to the freezer to put together an ice pack. She tossed the ice pack at Brock, who caught it effortlessly and then placed it over Ash's wrist, where an alleviated sigh bellowed from Ash's chest as he leaned his head backwards in relief.

"So, why did you punch the wall?" Misty asked while washing her hands, having gotten a bit of Ash's blood on her fingers when she was playing-assistant. Brock followed the same suit. Ash flipped to straddle the back of the chair and lean his uninjured arm against the board to rest his chin down on top of it while he watched his companions.

"Well, it said some nasty things to me." He joked, that childish grin pressing over his cheeks once more. Misty snorted and rolled her eyes. Brock could only shake his head.

"No..." Ash pursed his lips, sadness taking root in his brown eyes. "I got rejected again." He mused sadly, fiddling with his blue-coat.

Misty leaned up against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest. Rejected by the league once again. Over the last year Ash had been applying for a position to train under a pokemon master so that he could take the tests and challenges to officially earn the title himself... but, applying without a league victory most always ended in failure—runner-up simply wasn't good enough.

"We're sorry to hear that Ash." Brock said sullen, watching as Ash bounced right back, swiping his nose. Ahh, that same endless confidence was like a contagious beam. Misty fought down her grin.

"What are you guys doing here, anyways?" He asked confidently, knocking the dull tension from the room. Misty rapped her fingers on the counter behind her and glanced at Brock, and then back to Ash.

"Your mom called and said you were going to be in town, so we decided to stop in." She chimed happily, watching his features relax slightly. The tension in his broad shoulders gone. She hadn't noticed before, when his hand was bleeding out; but he was a lot larger than his previous boy-hood years. His hair was messy still, layered spikes down his head, but his shoulders were broad and his chest wide. She touched her forehead thoughtfully where she had felt Ash's nose brush against it earlier. He was probably even taller than her.

"I'm glad you guys could make it." He sung happily while Misty's heart skipped a beat. And his voice. For a moment, she wondered if he noticed how differently she looked—but kept the comment to herself.

"We wouldn't miss it, man." Brock cooed happily as he maneuvered his way through the kitchen to sit beside Ash. Misty followed, sitting opposite of him.

"So do you know where you're going next?" Misty questioned, dusting off her red shirt to remove the wrinkles as Ash winced to turn at them. Ash never stopped; when he lost, he picked his feet up and tried again.

"I haven't decided. I need to win a championship before I apply again." Ash mused pathetically, cradling his chin in his fist. Brock snapped his fingers. "But I've already competed in all of the championships in this pokemon league, and I don't feel like traveling to the other side of the world..."

The small group shared a brief expression of grief, before Brock sat up.

"Why don't you-rejoin the Kanto league, Ash? It's been eight years since you competed last." Brock offered, placing his fist in the opposite hand for emphasis. Misty perked up hearing this.

"That's not a bad idea. They are several new gym leaders through the entire region since the Elite-Four changed last year." She whistled, catching Ash's attention. At that moment, whether she noticed it or not, he saw the change in her once-boyish features, replaced now with womanly feats. He remarked her womanly aspects with a slight blush.

"You didn't get the position then?" He asked pushing down his strange emotion, watching her carefully as her face flushed an uncomfortable pink while she glanced towards the open kitchen door.

"No." She grimaced. "It's essentially the same as you. I need to win more because I reapply."

"Doesn't help that your sisters ran the gym into the ground." Brock muttered beside her while leaning forward against the table, the three of them recalling their life events up until now, a glum cloud hung over their heads.

"How about you, Brock? How's school?" Ash asked quickly, trying to save the moment. The last thing Ash wanted to do was wave depression into what should be a happy reunion!
"Difficult." Brock groaned, stroking his hair. He was enrolled in summer classes because he fell behind the year prior—having been absent from a formal study for years while he was traveling with Ash, he struggled slightly to keep up with the intense regime. Together, as if embodying the brood of their adult lives, they sighed; seems like noting was getting any easier.

"At least I haven't had any walls attack me..." Misty grumbled from across the table, cracking her eye open to smirk slyly at Ash who pursed his lips angrily. Her best attempt to patch the mood.

Ash scoffed, "At least I-"

"Oh my goodness you all made it!" Delia's voice cut through the enmity, drawing the three trainers attention to Ash's mother who held a large first aid kit.

"Yeah, and Brock already patched me up." Ash motioned to his wrapped wrist, raising it with a wince. Delia's face twisted before she sighed happily at the appearance of his fixed wrist.

"You should see a doctor, Ash." Brock eyed his friend, knowing that he might need an x-ray of some sort.

"It's fine." Ash grumbled, glared daggers at Brock.

"A doctor! You think so?" Ash sighed at the pitch in his mother's voice. "I'll go grab my coat!" She rushed back out of the kitchen, leaving the gym leaders to snicker while Ash sighed.

"Thanks, Brock..." He grumbled, flopping his wrist down onto the table. It felt fine; aside from the intense, dull ache provided when ever he wiggled his fingers. He didn't need to go visit the hospital where they would poke and prod him with needles; it wasn't like his wrist was broken; he could still use it... Maybe.

"I dunno, Ash, it looked pretty bad. It couldn't hurt to go." Worriedly, Misty tossed out with lowered eyebrows. Ash grinned at her calm, affectionate tone.

"Gee, Mist, did you grow a heart in the last four years?" His toothy grin brought the devil out of her eyes, and her face fell from a timid expression to one of intense anger. Brock laughed nervously.

"I've always had a heart, Ash Ketchum." She growled, cross with him. "You know I worry." She warned while crossing her knees over the other as a short-unaware blush crossed over his cheeks at the admittance.

Before he could speak, however, as tadition would have him; a blonde girl rushed into the kitchen breathlessly. Her hair was cut short, hovering right above her shoulders as a red bollard hat rested at the top. She wore a chic pink dress with a droopy red sash that hung to the sides of her hips. Her legs were covered by black tights; but the most eye-catching feature about her, was the blue, slightly out of trance with the rest of her clothes, ribbon tied at her collarbone. She was a bit shorter than Misty by comparison, a bit slimmer where Misty was muscular.

"Okay, I found that..." the blonde held up the white rose with red thorns she gathered from the meadow outside of his house and Ash had to stifle a knowing laugh. "...flower your mom asked me to get." She heaved, having rushed outside. Delia approached behind her and then chuckling herself, she quickly turned, as if rethinking her availability.

Misty and Brock followed with a quick 'ahh' and nodded simultaneously. Delia's go-to solution when Ash got in trouble and someone with a weak stomach, or 'panic mode' was around was to send them away to find something in her garden that will 'help' while the woman patched her son up. A feat Brock, Misty, and most likely all of Ash's traveling companions were a victim of at some point.

"Who are these?" the girl asked, turning red as she tucked the flower behind her back to hide it; apparently having caught on right away that it was only a task to busy her while Ash's wrist was wrapped. Ash met her nervous look with a bold grin that made Misty's stomach churn. He looked at her with such adornment in his chocolate eyes that Misty's heart skipped a beat.

"These are my friends; Misty and Brock." He motioned to the two of them with a nod of his head. "This is Serena, guys." He gestured to the blonde girl who clicked her heels together.

"Ash has talked a lot about the both of you! It's nice to meet you both!" Serena chirped, politely bowing to introduce herself. Misty quirked an eyebrow, having never seen such a reaction from someone before, and Brock's lips twitched as he nodded approvingly.

"All good things, I hope." He mused, pressing his hand against his chest. "As good as you, I hope." He purred with a quirked eyebrow, preparing to stand up to 'properly' greet the blonde female, but Misty beat him to the punchline.

"Whoa there, Brocko." Misty kicked him beneath the table, landing a solid hit on his shin. He fell forward, pressing his face against the hard surface of the table while Serena blinked her confusion. Ash laughed awkwardly as the pokemon performer approached him, having disregarded Brock's reaction entirely. Serena placed a hand on his shoulder delicately. A hand that Misty couldn't take her eyes off of.

"Is your hand better?" Serena asked sweetly, opposed to Misty's rough nature.

A nonchalant nod came from Ash who showed her the bandage that Brock used to wrap his wrist. What was that feeling bordering the back of Misty's chest? It was so unlike what she felt around his other female companions. As she watched the two briefly interact, the way Serena's touch lingered very slightly and her cheeks took a rosy color to them; she blew out air right away, lessening her lungs. While most people might have taken days, weeks, occasionally months to acknowledge such a sweet, light touch; Misty was faster to the ball game. As was Brock who also noticed the immediate flirtation from Serena.

"Are you two dating?" Brock asked suddenly, gesturing between the two of them. Ash blinked at Brock and then looked up at Serena before a large red blush coated his cheeks. Serena followed the same suit, but appeared to have had her mind check out at such an aggressive suggestion.

"No!" Ash nearly shouted, and Misty could visibly see the arrow stab Serena as she swayed away from the dark-haired boy. "Why would I do something like that?" Ash questioned nervously, eyes wide. Serena appeared to be uppercut with the harsh truth. Brock chuckled and shrugged his shoulder.

"You are old enough Ash. It was just a question." Brock mused playfully, but the accusation and theory still made Ash cross his arms and purse his lips uncomfortably.

"I am not old enough." Ash denied even though he clearly was at the age of nineteen, old enough to have a girlfriend. Misty watched the finishing blow land on Serena's head while she dramatically, but noticeably leaned up against the kitchen door frame and held her face painfully. The gym leader couldn't take her eyes off the blonde, and the corner of her mouth twitched.

At least Misty knew why Serena made her so uneasy.

She was in love with Ash.

Author's note:

I know they probably wouldn't fight. But for the sake of this story. They're going to fight like cats and dogs (at first). I just wanted to revisit this idea and have a bit of fun in a way I haven't seen often on this website. A fair fight. A distraction from my more committed and serious projects. edit 2.24.16; This story is about Misty and Serena; not about which shipping is better. It's a little bit of fun and all the shippings are nice; so let's get along guys. Don't read if you're of the faint of heart, but do read if you wonder what these two crazy kids are up to! -hearts-

hashtagshippingsarefun!

I dare you to vent in the reviews about who is better. Lol.

BUT BE RESPECTFUL!

Lots of love,

NINT