What you need to know:
Zenith: the highest point or state, by dictionary dot com.
She giggled, he giggled, darkness enveloping the two of them. Each was tangled in the sheets, each helpless in their laughter at the wild night they had. Ash had been at his party, Misty at hers, and each had snuck away, up to the attic of the small farmhouse in Oak's reserve, and set up sleep bags. It was there that they proceeded to breed like wild bunnies, fast and furious and wild and so many times that even the bunnies compared to in this metaphor had stopped to gape at the two.
Why was this so remarkable? Well, at fifty, one does not expect wild, breeding like rabbit kind of nights. Maybe once, but that's generally reproductive sex or sex because, well, it's just something grown ups do but all children know that their parents do enjoy it. They did it to make a baby. That's it. Their father never did anything dirty to their mother. Ever. Banish such wicked thoughts from thine heads before you cry.
More remarkable than their above bunny breeding status was their marital status, about to be changed. No, not through divorce, but the fifty year olds were about to be married. After all the long years of dating, of loving, of drinking and dancing and adventures and romance, the two were ready to settle in each other's arms. Granted, they might as well had been married for the past thirty some years, but details were to be ignored.
"Ash," she murmured quietly. "Do you want a baby?"
"…Crap," he muttered, hand wandering to her stomach. "When did it happen?"
"No, you dolt. I mean, do you want to adopt one. I don't want to be sixty eight by the time the kid is grown. I didn't want to have one, and I'm glad we never did, I just…what if we adopted a baby? A teenager, because teens have parents this age and we could…we could take care of the poor thing. No one ever adopts teens, but it'd be a nice thing to do. You'd get a little trainer, maybe. We could find one that likes training and he could be your legacy."
"What brought this up?" he responded.
"Well, we're getting hitched tomorrow. Shouldn't we talk about stuff like this? This is the end of our single, swinging lives and the start of boring Ash and Misty. Ash and Misty that don't have a traveling gym but are stationary in Cerulean training nieces to take care of water pokémon and living boring, boring lives. Ugh, marriage sucks."
"We're not going to suddenly change," he chuckled. "It's just a piece of paper. We never got around to it. Trust me, we've been married since we first said I love you."
"Which, strangely enough, was after the first time we slept together," she remarked. "But what do you think about adopting?"
"I think," Ash drawled, drawing her in, "that we are in the best part of our lives. We can do whatever the hell we want. We can adopted, we can have one, we can adopt and work on making one. We'll get to it. The most important thing to remember is that I love you, you love me, and we're getting married tomorrow. This is the best part of our lives, you know that. This is the highest of highs, perfection in motion."
"No more Shakespeare, Ketchum," she teased, nuzzling into his neck. "Ash, there's olive oil in my bag."
He chuckled, remembering the day, and snatched up the bag, and they relished in this singular moment, this night, the zenith of their relationship.
And that's the end, lovely readers, A to Z. A little alphabet book of AAML. I hope you enjoyed it!
Hugs and Love,