After a near-death experience in a car crash, James miraculously walks away from it all without any severe injuries : not counting a rather nasty and deep scar on his forehead. As he finds out in hospital, as lucky as he is, some things aren't as simple as they look.

But while James slips deeper and deeper into darkness, Jessie and Meowth become involved in a scandal that none of them could ever believe.

:: Rating :: PG-13 (or M15+ for us Aussies), for language... yes, language... and I dunno...

:: Category :: Drama / Suspense.

The title reads : "The Last Lie", in case yo'ure wondering. I just wanted to be different =^-'= - I stole the idea from Linkin Park's, 'Reanimation'. Go me.

'You're It' is giving me some serious Writer's Block... which I've prolly mentioned below. I've had this idea lingering in the back of my head. And who cares if it's cliched? It's my turn.
The office was dark. Darker than most felt comfortable in. Two men were present in the particular room - at least, to their knowledge. One was wearing a sleek, crimson Italian-style suit and a sly smirk across his lips as he sat behind his ebony desk. He was shrowded in shadows of all shades, making his appearance obscure. The much younger man wore the standard Team Rocket : White Division uniform. His features were also unrecognisable by the black.

"You do realize that this has been kept a secret for more than a lifetime?" the man in the suit spoke up. His voice itself was dark.

"Yes, sir."

"I trust you. That's why I've chosen you for this assignment. You have a password. You're the only one who has it - not even me, for I trust you more than I trust myself. It is vital for the safety and well being of Team Rocket."

"I know, sir."

"If you even think of betraying me, I'll kill you slowly. I will target everything and everyone who you love. Starting with those precious partners of yours."

The second man didn't flinch. His expression remained neutral though the issue concerning his colleagues was a personal matter. Normally, he would bow his head in shame, but it was up to him to maintain their... existences.

"I understand, sir."

He turned to leave the private quarters, when his 'Boss' called to him.

"And for Christ's sake, don't forget the damn thing."

.:::::::::::::::: th li3 : [prolgu3 ::::::::::::::::.

It was a rather noisy spring night that evening. With the milk-white moon hanging overhead, the highway between Vermillion and Veridian was highly congested, a traffic-jam of cars were caught in speeds as slow as 5km/hr going northbound. Swarms of Zubat sped above them almost teasingly, casting shadows of their lithe shilouettes across the bonnets of road-rage-striken people's vehicles.

Police were directing traffic uneasily at the cause of the chaos.

A five car prang.

It didn't seem like much when you hear about them over the radio, but when the concept involved being late home, then that was definitely a different matter.

For most people, this was the case.

One car in particular had just made it's way out of the predicament and back on the road it home. It was a stylish, red convertible with it's black hood up. It cruised along the outside lane, with it's one-of-a-kind number plate: bitchy.

But it's occupant definitely wasn't the Christina Agruilera lookalike you'd expect. Instead, there sat a young, handsome man content on borrowing his partner's car for a day. Even if it was for work. He had a mop of floppy azure hair that was tied back in a ponytail, leaving thick locks of hair out to frame his chiseled face, complementing his gorgeous, emerald green eyes. The sleeves of his uniform were rolled up and his gloves discarded on the dashboard, underneath the Maneki Meowth ornament that his partner believed would bring money and good luck. A black shirt underneath his white overshirt showed off his lean body. He wore loose-fitting white pants over a pair of black boots that tapped to the beat of the music that was blaring out of the speakers.

The radio was set on 99.6FM, or HotFM, as everyone knew it as. Bodyjar's 'One in a Million' was turned up as loud as possible since there was no screaming scratch cat in the back seat telling him to switch the rachet off completely.

"Sometimes when I'm drivin' in my car, I wish that you could take the wheel..." he sang along, concentrating more on the song than the slightly congested road, "... but you're not there, it's so un-"

Suddenly he heard a faint ringing from the dashboard. It was almost undetectable, beeping crazily under the loud music. He blinked in surprise - but it was probably his partner, he concluded to himself after a couple of seconds. He quickly turned the volume dial on the radio as far as it would go and picked up the phone.

"Hello? Bona fide sex god speaking." He sang into the reciever in his loving way. After all, she _was_ his partner, and who would blame him for being such a bloody flirt...

But the voice that replied _definitely_ wasn't the person he was expecting. "Jimmy?! Youse was supposed to be 'ere half an hour ago!" He held the phone away from his ear, upon hearing the scratch cat screech at him.


"No shit it's Me-owth."

James rolled his eyes at the response. He held it back up to his ear again and reached for the McDonalds kid-sized Sprite sitting in the drink holder. After gulping down a couple of mouthfuls, he set it back down and spoke again.

"Lovely, now can I speak to Jess?"


The cat obviously wasn't in the best of moods as he called for his comrade to get her 'scrawny ass over to da phone before I Fury-Swipe ya inta oblivion'. There was a crash of something or other in the background and a 'move it, you oversized hairball' before someone else's voice rang in his ears.

"Is that you, James?"

James smiled to himself.

"Yeah," he verified, his voice sweet and suyrupy. 'Just the way she likes it...' he thought to himself, his smile quickly becoming a wide grin.

"Where's my car?"


"That car was my bloody birthday present!"

"From me!"


"So what?"

"It's still _my_ car, numbnuts!"


James frowned. Her car was currently doing a casual one hundred and ten kilometres per hour over the Veridian Bridge.

"Hey, is that Bodyjar I can hear?" His grimace disappeared at Jessie's sudden change of mood. Instead, he smiled warmly. He hadn't realized the song was still audible.


"Turn it up, will'ya?"

With a quick 'sure', he turned the volume dial again and let it drift away in the background.

"I love this song," he heard Jessie comment happily.

He laughed. "Remind me to buy you the single, okay?"

"Listen - make sure you don't trash my damn car."

"Why would I? I'm the one who bought it."

Jessie giggled in reply. God, he loved her so much. If only he could see her right now... Stumbling in his thoughts, James accidently knocked over his Sprite.

He groaned and muttered something incoherant under his breath. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a stray Zubat flew like a bolt of lightning in front of him, skimming the tips of it's wings along the bonnet of the convertible. He cried out in surprise and let go of his mobile to grasp the steering wheels with both hands.

"James? James? What the hell happened?" Jessie's voice squeaked from the phone.

It all happened in the blink of an eye. He was so near to home, too.

The car swerved into the right lane and back again, leaving skid marks along the bitumen highway. He narrowly missed a rusted, blue ute, making the owner beep his horn repeatedly. Although the wandering Zubat was out of the way, James had lost full control of the car.

It sped off the road in its owner's futile attempts of gaining power and crashed through the barrier lining the bridge before leaping onto the road travelling eastward below. At the time, they were making their way under the bridge. It slid across a couple of lanes and rammed itself into one of the many lightposts that lined the highway.

James blinked a couple of times to get rid of his surprise. He was sure that he was bleeding. He could feel it on his forehead. But he could also feel that it wasn't all that serious. He guessed he had just hit himself on the steering wheel.

Yeah - that's it.

He wasn't gonna die. He was going to be alright.

Bodyjar pounded away in his ears. He listened to the last repeat of the chorus and sang along weakly, mostly in reassurance. His eyes desperately scanned the floor in search of his mobile.

"They told me to breath, they told me to lie down ... I figured it out, you're one in a million..."

It wasn't there. It probally slid under the passenger seat or something. He'd just wait for someone to get him out of there, first. He suddenly felt drowsy.

Red blood stained his already slight vision as he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness...
A wierd ending to the prologue of my little drama... thing, but hey, if you don't like it, you can always complain about it. Anyhow, I'll also post chapter one up as well so you don't have to be left with the insane idea that James' gonna die.

He's not, silly. Whatever gave you that idea? Well, the whole thing is like a two in one story. Two ideas merged together... You'll see in Chapter One.

Oh - and 'One in a Million'? That kickass song belongs to Bodyjar [from the album 'Plastic Skies'] and they belong to themselves unless, of course, they're slaves of the underworld under the control of Satan. Which is a simply silly thought that only people like me think... oh dear.

Go ahead... steal Jessie's number plate, why don'cha? It only took me a day and a half to figure out by myself...

: Dstny Fx