Welcome to chapter three! This time we'll be going back to Dawn and Paul, just in time for everyone to start arriving!

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Northstar Pokeshipper - Pikachu's whereabouts will be explained later, but if you're dying for an answer, looking at the headcanons on my profile might give you a clue. Thanks for your review!

The featured story for this chapter is "Don't Forget Me" by YlvaWolf.

Summary: "Raised in a strict military family, Morag Ainsley has had few opportunities to make true friends. That all changes though when she is accepted to Naoki International Academy in Japan. She only has two years to forge new friendships with plenty of obstacles to overcome, and not just teenage drama. Sinister powers are lurking in this world, threatening humanity's very existence..."

Thoughts: I'm reaaaaaly enjoying this story so far. It's connected to a story written by another author on this site, Clarified Conundrum, but knowledge of To the Better You isn't necessary to enjoy this piece. The author is also very friendly and invested in the story, which is a major bonus! Check it out!

This story currently has 3 reviews, 5 followers, and 5 favorites. Thank you!

As hurriedly as humanly possible Dawn rushed around the event hall, setting silverware on the table and making sure that everyone's water glass was full. It was almost five o'clock- the scheduled time for people to start arriving. The hors d'oeuvres trays were done, the chef was starting dinner, and the music was on. At that moment, the quiet harmony of violins and piano was filling the room, doing a tad to soothe Dawn's frayed nerves.

For the majority of the day, everything had gone smooth as ice cream. She'd arrived fresh and ready at eleven, her arms piled with everything she'd need to get the room set up. She had taken the liberty of purchasing some toys for the kids, knowing that they might be bored during all the "grown-up talk". There was a room off of the main event hall that she'd promptly turned into a nice little play room for them.

Just after she finished piecing together a doll house for Iris and Cilan's girls, however, things went a tad sour. Paul, whom she had left in charge of Matthew, called her in a frenzy. Apparently, somehow, Paul had managed to break the bottle warmer, and Matthew was screaming for something to eat. So, much to Dawn's annoyance, she'd been forced to temporarily abandon her little project and race to the nearest department store to pick up a new bottle warmer- this one more durable, of course.

Then, as she was backing out of her parking space, some asshole flew up behind her and bumped the rental. Fortunately, there was no damage, but Dawn was still pretty pissed. And then, to top it all off, the elevator was down for maintenance, forcing her to take - and then fall down - the stairs.

Long story short, it was time for a break.

Dawn had insisted on Paul waiting until the very last minute to bring Matthew over. He'd been a bit disgruntled about it, having hoped to get some time in the sun, but relented when Dawn curtly explained that there were no other options. She didn't want her young son (or her husband, for that matter) getting in the way of what she was trying to put together.

Relief filled her as she placed the last fork into position. Finally, it was done.

Taking a moment, she surveyed the event hall, seeing it in its full decorated mode for the first time. The ivory-colored tablecloth fit wonderfully against a background of rich wooden walls and a grand, velvety red carpet. Two golden chandeliers twinkled in the light the other provided, casting an atmospheric glow down on the chairs below. The massive glass balcony doors betrayed a beautiful view of the ocean.

She was so absorbed in her surroundings that she nearly missed the rapping of a fist on the main door. Whirling around, she whisked herself over to it, wondering which of her old companions she'd be greeted by first.

It was only Paul.

The young Gym Leader looked impatient, holding Matthew firmly against his side. The baby's travel bag was slung over his shoulder, nearly bursting from the force of what was stuffed inside.

"It's five to five," he bluntly reported. "Can you please take him? My arm feels like it's going to fall off."

Rolling her eyes at her husband's wimpiness, Dawn carefully took their son from him. He stirred a little at the movement, but upon seeing that it was only his mother, buried his head down in her shoulder.

"He's tired," she murmured. A little more loudly, she asked, "So what did you two do all day?"

Paul walked past her and set the travel bag on the floor. "Sat around. He slept, I read. At one point I had Monferno practice its Flamethrower aim on a flock of Starly."

She blinked. "That's it?"

He gave her a look. "What did you expect us to do, throw a party? I can't train with a baby on my hip, and I'm definitely not going to be seen on the beach with him."

Dawn put her hands on her hips. "And why not? What's wrong with being seen with our son in public?"

He took a piece of candy out of his pocket, unwrapped it, and popped it in his mouth. "Nothing. I just don't want a bunch of stupid little brats poking at him and rude girls squealing and trying to hold him. Plus, I can't swim when I have him."

Relieved at his answer, she nodded. "Well, tomorrow morning I'll stay with him, and you can go to the beach or wherever you want to go. Thanks for staying with him. Aside from the bottle warmer thing, it really made everything go a lot more smoothly."

Paul pursed his lips to show that he heard her, but said nothing. His gaze traveled around the room, taking in everything that his wife had done. "This must have taken a while."

"It did."

She moved over to where he was standing and picked up the travel bag. "I'm just going to take this into the back room. If anyone shows up, answer the door, huh?"

"Yeah, okay."

As Dawn went to drop off the bag, Paul leaned against the table, facing the balcony. Nobody ever told him that being a father would take up so much of his free time. Between the Gym and Matthew, it felt like he never had any time for himself. He loved Matthew to bits, but there were times when he wished the baby was older and could be left alone.

A soft knock on the door startled him a bit. Turning, he walked around the table to the door. Grabbing the brass handle, he twisted it and pulled back.

"Yeah, babe, I got you," Gary said, running a hand through his hair. "I'll be back in a bit. Just keep your cool and don't worry about the Pokémon. Kukui will handle 'em."

He half-listened to the reply, knowing that it wasn't worth his attention. His assistant always was such a worrier. Gary swore that she couldn't do anything but dream up four billion ways that even the simplest task could go wrong.

As soon as she finished speaking, he pulled the phone away from his ear and tapped the button to hang up. His wife was waiting and he had zero time left for this.

Picking up his suitcase, he waltzed over to where Sally was waiting for him. The bubbly blonde had checked the duo into the hotel, and was presently eyeing a fancy bottle of wine on display.

Gary leaned up against the marble counter top, inching his head into her line of sight. "Maybe later we can crack that open. I'll pour us a couple'a glasses, put on some slow music, and see where it goes."

She giggled, a fruity little noise that caught the attention of anyone within earshot. "Cary, stop it! There's, like, lots of people everywhere!"

Yanking his leather wallet out of his pocket, Gary produced one of many credit cards. He slid it across the desk, raising his eyebrows at the lady across. "One bottle of wine for the lady, and a pack of gum too. And make it fast."

The woman looked like she wasn't sure whether to be intrigued or annoyed, but said nothing. As she went off to fulfill his order, Gary slipped behind his wife and wrapped his arms around her waist. He breathed down her neck, smiling in pure delight when she shivered.

"Hey," he whispered, his mouth close to her ear. "Did anybody ever tell you how fucking sexy you are?"

He could almost feel her heat up. "No."

He gave her a tight squeeze. "Not surprised. They were probably too dumbstruck by it to say anything. You have that effect on men. I've seen it."

She twisted her head so that her lips were a hair away from her husband's. "Then why are you still talking?"

"I'm the only one that's got the balls." He pressed his lips against hers, almost immediately feeling her ask to deepen it. He happily obliged, and within the span of three seconds he practically had her on the floor. She smiled against him, his hands beginning to roam.

Just when he was about to get to her favorite spot, some rude individual cleared their throat right behind them. Gary purposefully ignored it, wanting to give whoever the hell was trying to get in between him and his wife the pleasure of seeing more.

Half a second later, the person tapped rather forcefully on Gary's back. Irritated now, he swung his wife back upright and turned, shooting daggers.

A middle-aged coot was standing right there, looking down at the pair with disgust. "Do you love-struck children have to do that here, in front of everyone? It's disgusting and annoying."

Gary stuck his nose up at him. "It's the 21st century. Everyone kisses in public." A daring look crossed over his face as he added, "Or maybe you've been out of the dating loop too long to know."

The man's brow twitched. "For your information, I have a wife. And what you were doing there was most certainly more than 'just kissing'."

"Why do you care? You wanna join in or something?"

A split second before the grumbling man decked the Oak, the receptionist intervened. She slid her petite form right in between the two, a bottle of wine and a pack of gum in her hand. She had the bottle upside down and raised in her hand, ready to swing if necessary.

Quick as lightning, Gary grabbed her arm and eased it back down. "Whoa, whoa. Let's not get too excited here. This is a very expensive piece of fine culture, lady."

She shoved the gum and his credit card into his hand. "Please go to your room, sir. I'll have to call security otherwise."

Gary pretended to be offended. "Oh, my apologies. I didn't mean to upset a pretty little face like yours."

She scoffed. "Nice try. I've seen plenty of men like you, mister. Last chance. Take yourself - and your wife - and get out of here."

He shrugged. "Fine, fine. Whatever pleases you." He winked at her. "Just know that my door is always open." He grabbed Sally's hand and whisked her away, not bothering to acknowledge any of the guests that were now staring at them from every direction. They were just jealous.

Once they were in the elevator, Gary let some curses slip. How fucking dare that man, and that goddamned tramp, et cetera. In his mind, they had absolutely no right to just barge in between him and his wife. They were having a nice little moment, and they had to ruin it. Old people these days, running around acting like they never had sex in the back of a car or ran nude through a park at night.

"It's okay, Cary!" Sally assured him, wrapping herself around his arm. "I enjoyed it! Maybe we can continue it later, after we see everyone."

He gave her a small smile. "Yeah, baby, we can. Even if it has to be some place dull like the bedroom, it's better than nothing. At least we won't be bothered by some dumbass prune that way."

The elevator dinged, indicating that they had arrived at their destination. Gary found the first hotel worker he could and shoved all of his things into her arms, casually ordering her to take them to 205. When she started to object, saying things about how she was just a maid and whatnot, he slipped a hundred into her pocket and told her she'd be fine.

Leaving the young woman to figure it out for herself, Gary intertwined his and Sally's arms and took her in the direction of the event hall. They wanted to be the first to arrive. Sally wanted it that way; she wanted plenty of time to adjust to her surroundings before having to deal with a lot of people at once. Gary, on the other hand, wanted to push the boundaries of "casually late", so as to make the grandest entrance possible. He relented, however, after coming to the conclusion that it was worth sacrificing that for his wife's sanity. She had a great deal of trouble with new things, specifically if said things were thrown at her in rapid succession.

Walking straight up to the door, Gary gestured for Sally to do the honors. Looking happy to have been given the honor, she tapped against the door. Gary rolled his eyes, knowing perfectly well that such a quiet noise would never be heard by anyone. He decided to show her how it's done, but found himself staring into a pair of black eyes before he could.

Paul acknowledged them both with a curt nod. "You're both the first to arrive," he reported, skipping the traditional "Hey, it's so great to see you!". He stepped out of their way, revealing most of the room behind him. "Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. There's appetizers out. Everyone else should be here soon."

Gary didn't have to be told twice. He flew into the hall, diving right into the hors d'oeuvres the second he saw them. As he shoved shrimp into his mouth, Paul stood rigid beside Sally, who was gaping at the room before her.

"It's so big," she commented breathlessly. Slowly, her eyes drifted over to Paul. "Was it expensive?"

Paul shuffled his feet, trying to keep his eyes up. There wasn't a woman in the world that he feared the presence of more than Sally Oak. She was so incredibly attractive, but not in any kind of sweet or pure way. She was hot in the kind of way that made wives for miles nervous. Everyone took notice of her. It was impossible not to. It wasn't like she didn't flaunt it, either. She knew she was hot, and she liked it.

Paul liked it.

He scarcely realized that he had failed to keep his hormone-driven eyes on the north side until he heard the snappy voice of his own woman. He pulled his eyes away from Gary's trophy and rested them on Dawn.

"I said, why didn't you come and tell me that Gary and Sally were here?" she asked, her voice tart.

He stumbled a bit before finding his voice again. "Well, um, they- they just got here. A minute or two ago. I was going to come and tell you, but I didn't want to be rude."

He thought he heard her mumble something about that being a first, but wasn't completely sure. "Well, I can take over now. Why don't you go and see how Gary's doing, so I can catch up with Sally?" There was a distinct point behind her voice.

Returning to his usual demeanor, Paul just shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, sure."

As he wandered toward Gary, Dawn moved to stand a bit closer to Sally. She leaned over the girl, who stood nearly a head shorter than her. "I see you haven't changed much, Sally. I assume your job's still going very well?"

The blonde nodded, failing to notice the anger beaming off the blue-haired host. "Yeah, it is! You're right, though, nothing much has changed! Except, I mean, Robby quit. We've got a new manager. Ryan. He's nice. Everyone around there really is. There always trying to make sure we're okay." She swung her eyes around the room again. "You really did a nice job."

Dawn's anger faded as Sally complimented her work. She didn't mean anything bad. It's not her fault your husband's a typical man. "Thanks," she said. "It really took a while. Figuring out what would work best where was the hardest part. I had a certain image in mind; it just took me a while to get it to come to life. And then, of course, I had to pick out my outfit, and do my hair..."

Sally beamed at her. "Well, your dress looks great! The color goes really well on you."

Dawn blushed a little. "Thanks." Somewhat-absentmindedly, she ran a hand through her hair. "I didn't have much time to do my hair, though. Doesn't it look just awful?"

"I don't think so. Did you just get it dyed again? The color looks rich!"

She nodded, impressed. Sally was one of the few people who actually understood fashion; it was almost enough to make up for the fact that she was purposefully loose. Dawn supposed it came from her time on the stage.

The two women continued to chatter. Eventually, Dawn realized that she should make use of what time she had left before the rest of the guests arrived to finish fixing herself up. As she excused herself to re-do her hair for the millionth time, another knock came to the door.

Sally, being the closest, decided to do her hosts a favor and answer it. She opened the door with much excitement, eager to see who was arriving next.

"Brock!"