Hey everyone! It's been a while since my last one-shot, and I wanted to do something for Christmas, so this is it! I've never written Airplaneshipping before even though it's one of my three Pokemon OTPs, so I thought this would be fun.
And it was fun.

A friend gave me a one-word prompt, which was Wine. I liked how this turned out.

So, enjoy, and have a Merry Christmas!

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon.


"Elesa."

The model and gym leader looked up. In front of her, three Skylas stood, each with a hand on her hip and a disapproving expression on her face.

"I didn't know you could learn double team," Elesa said. Honestly, it was a miracle she wasn't slurring. Her sentence was promptly followed by a hiccup.

"I –what?" Skyla bent down to look under the table. "Oh, man, Elesa, how much have you had to drink? Please tell me this is it." She wrinkled her nose.

Elesa shook her head, slumping over on her mink coat. "Three more bottles in the kitchen."

"I know you can hold your liquor much better than I can, but this really is overdoing it, you know." The flying type gym leader sighed, taking a seat across the table. Slowly the three Skylas merged into two, which was a definite improvement. "Alright, what was he on the scale?"

"Nine point five for definite jerk," Elesa said, scrunching up her nose. "What kind of guy even breaks up on Christmas eve, anyway?"

Skyla took a moment to reply to that one. "If I could refresh your alcohol-blurred memory a little, there was Roark last year…"

Even in her drunken stupor, Elesa could recall Roark with perfect clarity. He was, after all, Skyla's most recent boyfriend, and even though they hadn't been together in a year –as Skyla herself had just pointed out –jealousy wasn't an easy thing to forget. He'd measured a seven point nine on their scale –their breakup had been more mutual, but the date they'd broken up on hadn't worked in Roark's favor either. "Skyla, honey, you're not still hung up on him, are you?"

"What? No!" Skyla huffed, and pouted in what Elesa was sure was a subconscious effort. She was just so adorable, Elesa thought. "It couldn't have worked out. He was too attached to the ground; I was too attached to the sky. We weren't even on the same land half the time –and neither of us could stand the long distance."

"At least you know what your problems were," Elesa mumbled, reaching for the glass of wine. It was hard to tell where it actually was, though, seeing as the room was spinning. "I didn't even know we were on the outs."

"Such is life, I suppose," Skyla said, in a perky way that told Elesa she really wasn't bothered by how life was at all. She picked the bottle of wine Elesa had been after off the table and set it down on the floor behind her. "Being a gym leader will pretty much interfere with everything that starts with an R and ends with an E. Nobody else quite gets what a gym leader's schedule is like."

"Probably why you and Roark lasted as long as you did," Elesa remarked. "You were both so busy you kept missing each other."

"Well, I suppose –hey! I resent that!" Skyla scowled. "You need to be involved to make a relationship work!"

"It's not like I don't try," Elesa retorted. "But the holiday season usually means an influx of challengers. I'm lucky to have gotten time off tonight."

Skyla made a face. "Don't I know it."

Elesa suddenly realized that Skyla was a gym leader as well, and that her schedule would have been equally unmanageable. "Speaking of, how did you get away tonight?"

The redhead waved a hand. "The last scheduled challenger tried to challenge me with an arsenal of grass pokemon. The battle was all of five minutes."

"I wish I were that lucky." Elesa slumped over on the table, pushing her glass towards Skyla. "How many badges have you given out this week?"

"Three, I think," Skyla replied. "Why?"

Elesa groaned. "I've had to give out five," she complained. "And about seven others came close."

"Don't worry about it," Skyla chipped. "Haven't you had, like, thirty-odd battles this week? Five losses is better than decent. If it makes you feel better, though, Roxie's given out sixteen this week alone."

"Sixteen?" Elesa repeated, scoffing. "What is she, drunk?"

Skyla giggled. "I think that's you, Elesa," she said. "Roxie's been busy with the band gigs, though. She's not getting much sleep."

"I bet Burke's got a headache," Elesa said. "If Roxie is letting trainers slip past her like that, he's got to be flooded by rookies."

"He's holding up fine," Skyla said. "I'm more concerned about you."

Elesa stared at her. "Me?"

Skyla gave her a sheepish smile. "Honestly? You don't look very good."

"I'll live." Elesa pushed herself up to prove her point. "In fact, I'm feeling better already."

"I wouldn't push it if I were you," Skyla reproached. She let out a sigh. "I guess we're both single again."

Maybe it was the wine, but Elesa suddenly found herself spouting words that were bound to get her into nothing but trouble. "Or we could not be single together."

Skyla blinked slowly. "Huh?"

"Even you're not that dense, Sky," Elesa drawled. "But if you really need further clarification…"

She leaned across the table, closing the space between the two of them in a slow, deliberate fashion that gave Skyla plenty of time to move away. Much to her pleasure, though, Skyla didn't move –and yet when their lips should have touched, hers met nothing but air.

A finger tapped her on the shoulder, and Elesa turned to the left to realize that she had gone for the wrong Skyla. Drat. And she had been so sure.

"I'm over here, silly."

Skyla leaned forward, and this time, their lips met without a hitch. It wasn't a long kiss –in fact, by Elesa's standards, it was only one step above a peck on the lips, but it was a kiss nonetheless, and it was somehow all they needed it to be, tenderness and passion behind both their lips.

"You know," Skyla said, when they broke the kiss, "you're drunk."

"Oh, please," Elesa said. "Like all the wine in the world could make me want you more. There's no point in you getting drunk too, but feel free to help yourself to the wine."

The kiss that followed was only the second of many that they would share that night.

And by morning, there was no more wine.