Wet Carpet
By: Manna


The Microfic/Drabble Meme
Requested by: Sarajayechan (Livejournal), Sara Jaye (FFN)
Prompt: "Shelter from the storm."
Pairing/Characters: Ash/Misty
Fandom: Pokémon


Damn it, damn it, damn it.

16-year-old Ash Ketchum had managed to acquire, at least mentally, a slightly colorful vocabulary. But honestly, he couldn't help it… He'd finally found the time to come back to Cerulean City to visit his best and admittedly cutest childhood friend, and wouldn't the world see fit to let the clouds overhead turn dark before they dumped a thousand gallons of doom on his head?

He'd thought about her all the way there, wondering if she still looked the same, talked the same, was the same. He fervently wished that she hadn't changed at all, but he knew better than to think that. The most recently photographs he'd gotten hold of were testament to the fact that some changes were definitely good, but he tried not to dwell on that fact too often… His cheeks had a tendency to heat up unbearably hot at the mere mention of her name, now, let alone…

He sighed and tried without success to shield his face from the onslaught that the rain and wind brought him. Damn it all if the weather hadn't ruined his hopes of taking her out somewhere to reminisce about the supposed good old days that really weren't so great after all.

Except, he admitted to himself, for the fact that she had been by his side. That was the one thing that made those first couple of years so wonderful.

He'd been certain to call ahead…though he couldn't wait that one extra day to see her and would be terribly early—he supposed it was a social blunder, but he really didn't care, and he hoped she wouldn't either.

But why did the weather have to be so horrible? He was glad Pikachu was helping his mother bake cookies… his little buddy would be miserable in the cold, wet, early-summer rain. He shook his head, water flying from the top of his hat and his hair, and then, suddenly, he was there.

The sign for the Cerulean City Gym hung a little lopsided, and the building looked even worse than when he'd last seen it, but he was never happier to be there then he was at that moment. He hurriedly rushed inside and sprinted down the side hall to where he knew she'd be.

He didn't even knock before he flung open the door to her old bedroom—the one she'd been so insistent that he stayed out of whenever they'd stopped by the gym before.

She was lying on her bed in a t-shirt and shorts, her hair loose and slightly damp from what he assumed was a shower. She had one leg crossed over the other, and he deduced from the book in her hands that she had been reading one of those infinitely stupid romance novels, again.

She looked up, clearly startled to see him there, dripping in her doorway from the top of his head to the soles of his shoes, and she blinked confusedly at him, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to form some sort of comprehensive sentence.

He took his hat off of his head—a lot of good it did, anyway, considering his soaking wet hair—and shook his head to attempt to remove it from his eyes. He failed, but smiled at her lopsidedly anyway, wanting nothing more than to flick her forehead between the eyes with his finger and tell her he was planning on letting Pikachu ruin another bicycle of hers if it would make her follow him around again, but he settled on just smiling, dripping like he didn't care he was getting her carpet all wet. "Hey, Misty," he said, unable to say more lest he voice everything he didn't want her to hear.

Suddenly, she was across the floor and pushing him out of her room, scolding him for everything he'd ever done in his life and telling him she'd skin him alive for not calling her more often, for not updating her regularly on his adventures, and most of all for not even sending her one picture.

He just grinned lazily and let her push him towards the kitchen, though once they were there, he turned around swiftly and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. "I've almost missed that," he told her, his tone teasing though he meant every word.

And then, she was blushing and pulling away and yelling at him for getting her clothes all wet, because darn it, Ash, I just took a shower, and his smile grew bigger the redder her face got, and that only annoyed her more, resulting in a never-ending circle of smiling and face-reddening.

Though at least her carpet was mostly spared.


Author Notes:

Not much to say, here. I'm pretty out of touch with the Pokémon fandom, but as stated above, this piece was a requested one, and I couldn't resist, of course. I've always wanted to write an AshxMisty since I do support them, and the opportunity presented itself in the form of a meme circling Livejournal. I hope you enjoyed it, and if you've got the time, I'd love a review; constructive criticism is always appreciated! Thank you for reading!