Jessie
Don't panic, Jess. I kept saying that to myself over and over. It wasn't like I hadn't been in this kind of situation before. Several times I'd been cut off from my chief, and I'd always made it out without getting killed. Barely, but I did it. The question was, could I get myself and James out alive?
I glanced over at my temporary partner. He leaned against the wall not half a foot away, thoughtful but unafraid, no doubt trying to sort a clear solution out of all of this. I knew that if I asked him, he would stay by me until the end. But with the end possibly drawing near, I couldn't ask him to do that. And I wasn't going to risk his life if there was a chance of survival.
"James?" I began. He turned to face me. I took a deep breath; this wouldn't be easy. "I want you to stay out of this case from now on. It's getting too complicated, and the fact of the matter is-"
"You don't have to explain," he interrupted. "I understand perfectly."
"You do?"
James' voice tone was icy. "Of course. The fact of the matter is that you don't need me anymore- I've given you enough information, and now as soon as you figure out a way to escape you can take the info back to your superior. Mission completed, end of story."
I stared at him in complete disbelief. "You really believe that?"
James shrugged. "I had a feeling from the very beginning. People use you, then they lose you; it's that simple."
"My God James, you have been hanging around with criminals too long," I told him. "I guess it never occurred to you that maybe I actually wanted to help you too. That I had every intention of trying to get you a job on the squad. That maybe, just maybe, I wanted to spend more time with you and the only way I knew how was to blackmail you and get you to help me out? Crazy as it may sound, but could it be that I liked you as more than a tool?" Somehow we'd moved closer together, so that there was very little space between us. "That I was attracted to you?"
I think I made the first move, but it was pretty much simultaneous. James and I had locked lips in an instant, arms around the other. I hadn't realized it until now how much I wanted him. Everything about him- from his newly developed mysterious quality to his natural friendly charm and good looks- screamed desirable .
We moved as one towards the bed, angling away from the wall. I had just about gotten his shirt unbuttoned when James pulled away.
"Jessie, Jessie," he repeated, holding me back. "This isn't right."
"What are you talking about?" I questioned. "We're two horny adults in love, so what's the harm?"
"Both of us are stressed and under a lot of pressure from this whole thing. We're trying to use sex as a way out of our problems," James explained.
"So?"
James put his shirt back on. "I'm leaving."
"James..." I started to persuade.
He flung open the door. "If I find out anything else I'll talk to you." As he turned to go, he added one last stinging comment. "I do love you, Jessie, but I'm not so sure if you feel the same way."
Then he was gone, leaving me alone with my own thoughts.
The veteran detectives down at the station used to talk about how everyone had a moment of weakness in their career. Under pressure, in a desperate situation, they would grab at anything they could find to ease the stress off a little. I had used my moment of weakness on the one person I truly cared about, and now he might be gone for good.
"Dammit Jessie, you are such a fucking idiot!" I scolded myself. "You did exactly what he accused you of: using him. Dammit! I really am a stupid bitch!"
I slammed my hand into the wooden door in frustration. I started to do it again, but stopped. James' last words hit me hard.
"I do love you, but I'm not sure if you feel the same about me."
Did I love him? I'd made a promise to myself back when my mother died that I would never get close to someone again- but hadn't I done just that?
And this was James, of all people. My best friend since I was eight, my punching bag, and the person I'd never even glanced at twice before. So why should I suddenly feel like this? Maturity? His new personality? Even I didn't know the answer to my own feelings.
"And why the fuck am I worrying about this now?" I asked myself.
Like it or not, I did have a mission to carry out; James or no James. I picked up my room key and walked out the door for my daily spying mission, trying my hardest to focus my mind on everything but him.

James
Butch caught Jessie, throwing her limp figure over one shoulder. There was blood in her hair, and it was impossible to tell if she was alive or not.
I whirled to lash out at Roger, but found my own arms pinned to my sides. While I had been in shock, he'd snuck up behind me and put me in much the same hold Jessie had been in. As I began to struggle, Cassidy stuck a gun to the side of my head.
"Don't even try it."
"So now what?" I asked, accepting the fact that my life was over.
"Now, James?" Roger hissed. "Team Rocket's reign begins again. We take over the radio tower and no one stands in our way."
"The police will stop you, just like they did to Giovanni," I told him.
"Those pigs don't have a clue, now that their precious spy is gone," Roger insisted. "You know, it's a real shame you didn't join with me. I could have used a mastermind like yourself... but that's life."
He covered my face with a damp rag. Things started to haze out within milliseconds. My knees collapsed underneath me; I was out before I hit the ground.

I woke up draped over a couch in a completely different room than I had just been in. The furniture was first-class, but there was something odd about it. Then it hit me: there was radio equipment lining the walls. I was in Goldenrod's radio station. I sat up, but had to lean back almost immediately. The pain in my head was horrible; I imagined Jessie couldn't be much better. My heart started racing. Jessie!
I made myself stand, then started to work out the stiffness in my legs while I tried to sort this out. I was in the radio tower, in a production room. Checking my jacket, I found my gun still there. Now I knew something was up. Roger had taken the pains to drag me to the station when he could have easily killed me on the spot, and I had a weapon too.
More games? That had to be it. Roger wanted a little sport before he got rid of me- or us, if Jessie still lived. I was sick and tired of his tricks; all I wanted to do was get Jessie and get out.
But chances were that wouldn't be an option.
I tried the door to the office. It opened easily. Stepping out into the hallway, I took a look at my surroundings. The walls were completely void of windows or doors- in fact, the only exits were on either side of the long hall. I tried the door nearest to me. Locked. Which meant that I only had one option, and more than likely it would lead me straight to Roger and Jessie.
Still, it was better than sitting around waiting for death to creep up around the corner. I opened the big paneled door and entered what had to be the producer's office. And behind the desk stood the one man I hated with every molecule of my body.
"Ah, James. So good of you to come. We were getting impatient," Roger said calmly.
My eyes took in the scene at once. About five feet away from Roger sat Jessie, held down my Butch. Both Butch and Cassidy had their guns pointed directly at her head.
"I thought about killing you," Roger said, as if reading my thoughts, "but first I thought I might have a little fun."
"What's the point? What're you trying to prove?" I demanded.
"Nothing except the simple fact that you and those like you are fools. To think you could actually escape the deadly crime web? You were born a delinquent and you will die one. Prove, James? I only want to show you how much of a idiot you really are."
"You'll kill me in vain, then, because I'll die knowing I did everything I could to stop a jackass like you!"
Roger chuckled darkly. "We'll see about that." He pulled out a 9millimeter and cocked it directly at Jessie. "The way I see it, there's about two ways you can get out of here alive." He paused for emphasis, then continued. "The first way is out that door. If you put down your gun and walk out, we'll let you go back to your own meaningless life. We will always be keeping an eye on you, but you'll be able to escape part of the crime ring. The other way out is by joining our side. I've told you many a time that having an ally like you would have its rewards. You pledge your allegiance to this team and your life is spared... for the moment, anyway."
There was more to it than that. There had to be. "What's the catch?"
"Either way," Roger jerked his head towards Jessie, "we kill her."
"You sick, twisted bastard," Jessie growled.
"You're too kind," Roger said viciously. He spoke to me, but kept his eyes and weapon on Jessie. "There is, of course, one other quick solution to this problem."
"And...?"
"You turn this into a suicide case and try to save Ms. Smitt yourself. You might be able to kill me, or Butch, or Cassidy, but there's three guns aimed at her and one of us is bound to pull the trigger. And then it's only a matter of time before you get yourself shot too. A noble death, some might say, but a stupid one nevertheless." He shrugged carelessly. "The choice is yours- you should consider yourself lucky to even have options."
"James, don't worry about me," Jessie said suddenly. "Get the hell out of here while you still can-"
Butch strengthened his hold, cutting her off.
"Do you have an answer?" Roger asked.
I looked around, trying to find a simple way out of all of this. I wasn't about to run off, but what was the point of trying to save Jessie if it was hopeless anyway? There had to be a something...
A golden flash caught my eye. Glancing down casually, I saw someone I hadn't thought to see ever again. Meowth was crouched underneath plush chair, seated in what I knew was a cat's attack position. He mouthed something I understood perfectly. "I've got a diversion plan- just wait a sec."
I gave the slightest bit of a nod, indicating that I'd gotten the message.
Roger sighed. "I grow tired of your unsureness. Give me an answer soon or I'll kill you on the spot."
Suddenly a white blur streaked through the air to latch on to the closest thing it could find. Meowth had attached himself to Cassidy's head.
She yelped, dropping her gun and trying frantically to get his claws out of her hair. This was the only chance I was going to get. Debating quickly, I decided that I would try to take Butch out first. He had a better range than Roger and was more likely to get Jessie. I began to pull on the trigger...
I heard two quick shots from Roger's nine mill. He'd shot Meowth and Cassidy point-blank in one hit, but I felt the second bullet before I saw it.
There was a splitting pain in my chest. Unwillingly I crumpled to the ground. I tried to stand, but my own body wasn't obeying me. The pain wasn't so bad anymore; it was numbing faster by the second. In fact, everything was numbing. I couldn't keep my eyes open.
Jessie...
No, too tired.
But she...
Just rest...
Game over.

Jessie
Everything happened so quickly it was like a giant blur. I saw James hit the floor, I heard Cassidy's scream. There was a thump behind me, and I knew both she and Meowth were down. Were any of them alive? It didn't matter anyway, I was about to join them as it was.
Or so I thought.
Roger spat contemptuously. "Stupid, noble idiot." He turned to Butch. "Go ahead and kill her."
I realized Butch had released his hold on me. "You- you shot her! Cassidy wasn't even doing anything and you-"
"She got in the way, just like that idiotic cat," Roger said, no pity in his voice. "That bitch wasn't good for anything anyway."
Butch glared at his former colleague. "You self-centered, mother fucking asshole! She backed you up even when you had nothing but a dream of re-building this damned team! And you can just shoot her like she's your arch enemy?"
"Ruthlessness is a virtue. Now, kill the spying bitch or I'll do it myself," Roger ordered.
Butch must have fired five times, though he probably only need two. Roger was dead before he hit the ground.
I heard the sound of a gun clatter to the floor. I didn't bother looking over to see what had happened to Butch, or Cassidy- the only thing I was worried about was James.
I raced over to him, desperately seeking a pulse. My trembling hands moved down his wrist until I found it. The slightest bit of a beat, but he wasn't gone. Yet.
Next I needed to find a bullet hole. That wouldn't be easy; there was blood everywhere. It had been hard to tell, but I was almost positive that Roger had shot him in the chest. Carefully I flipped the limp figure over, feeling around for a mark of some kind. I could only pray it hadn't hit an organ. There! I pulled off my coat and tried to stop some of the flow. It was next to impossible- the bullet must have hit an artery or something. I didn't know much about medicine, but I'd seen enough bullet wounds that I knew this was bad. I had to get him to a hospital.
"Butch, help me-" I turned, but stopped short.
Butch was slumped down on the floor next to Cassidy, head between knees. Making sure I had done what I could for James, I made my way over to him.
"Butch?" I said gently.
He looked up, a deep sadness in his eyes.
Realization hit me. "You've never killed anyone before, have you?"
He shook his head.
I didn't know what to do. Killing someone was never easy, but the first time was definitely the most mentally damaging. I turned my attention to Cassidy and Meowth. Cassidy's head had been grazed by the bullet- she was alive, and probably would be okay if we got her to a doctor in time.
The cat was lying a few feet away from her. I didn't have to find a pulse to know he was dead, the bullet hole in his head was enough proof. I cradled the cat Pokémon in my arms. He'd given his own life to save us; Meowth had stuck by us until the end. He was a better friend than I ever could have imagined.
"Is James alive?" Butch asked shakily. Apparently he'd recovered from his moment of shock.
I nodded. "For now. It doesn't look good, though. Cassidy should be all right." I stood up. "Come on, I need to call 911 and you're the only one who knows where the phones are."
Butch didn't move. Sighing, I offered him my hand. He snapped out of his trance, taking my hand and allowing me to help him up.
"Phones?" I reminded, getting impatient.
Butch nodded. "Yeah, over here."
He led me into a back room where the phone sat. Quickly I picked it up and dialed the number. "Yes... we have two seriously injured victims... the radio tower... Yes, I know damn well Team Rocket took over! This is first-class detective Jessica Smitt, I was sent here to... you know who I am? Then get the fuck over here!... Fifth floor, producer's board room... hurry.... thanks." I hung up. To Butch I added, "They're on their way."
"What should we do 'til they get here?" he wondered.
"Not a damn thing," I told him. "Pray that they make it, I guess."
Butch fumbled with a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out and started to light it up. As an afterthought, he added, "You want one?"
Some of the guys back at the station had gotten me hooked on them a while ago. I'd quit for the most part; I only smoked when I was under a lot of pressure. This qualified.
"Thanks," I replied, taking the one he handed me and lighting it.
We waited for what seemed like hours, but it couldn't have been more than five minutes. Finally an ambulance arrived, along with a shitload of police cars. Six surgeons, or whatever they're called, came into the room soon, accompanied by two of my closer cop friends, Tyler and Dena.
"Jessie?" Tyler questioned. "You're alive? I can't believe it-"
"You don't have to," I cut him off. "Just get these two back to the hospital."
The doctors had brought up stretchers, thankfully. They eased James and Cassidy onto separate ones, two people to a stretcher. The remaining duo looked from Meowth to Roger.
"What about-" one began.
"They're both dead," I said holding back a sob for the cat. "Take Meowth, please. I don't give a shit what you do with Roger; he's the team leader."
Dena jerked her head at Butch. "Who's he?"
"An ally," I lied. "All of them were. Butch over there killed Roger."
Tyler went up to him. "Thanks pal, you did the world a favor." Butch nodded absentmindedly. Tyler glanced at me. "What's his problem?"
"First kill," I explained simply.
Dena nodded. She put a hand on Butch's back and led him to the door. "Poor guy. I'll take him down to the station and let him get some rest..."
Butch pulled back. "No, I- I wanna stay with Cass. She's the girl who, who got shot."
I exchanged looks with my friend. "Let him. It might be better to let him stay with her as it is." I reeled back suddenly, caught by a wave of nausea and dizziness. Tyler and Dena rushed over to see what was wrong.
"You okay Jess?" Dena questioned.
I put a hand on her shoulder to steady myself. "Yeah... I'm all right now. I don't know what happened."
Tyler, who was standing behind me, announced, "I do. You must have gotten quite a blow to the head- the back of your skull's a mess. Probably a small concussion. Come on Jess, you're riding in the ambulance with Butch. We'll take care of the mess here."
I didn't try to protest. I wanted to be nearer to James anyway. All this time I'd managed to keep cool, letting my natural emergency instincts take over. Once inside the ambulance I just about broke down. It took every ounce of my remaining strength to keep something of a straight face. If I freaked out Butch would have some kind of nervous break down or something, and I couldn't let that happen.
By the time we reached Goldenrod hospital I was emotionally and physically exhausted. All I wanted to do was collapse in a chair, but of course that was impossible. I had to fill out some dumbass forms, get myself cleaned up, and even then I couldn't sleep. I was too nervous for Cassidy and James to do anything but sit by James' bed.
In a couple hours the doctors (I didn't bother getting any names) had decided that Cassidy would definitely live, but it was hard to tell if there would be any permanent damage; they wouldn't be able to tell until she woke up.
James, on the other hand, had a bleak diagnosis. Luckily the bullet had missed his heart, but had struck an artery. They'd had a time getting the blood to stop flowing, and by the time they were able to stitch it up James had lost an unbelievable amount of blood. No one knew if he'd make it through the night, and even if he did they needed to find a blood donor.
Naturally that meant I didn't sleep for an instant all night. I doubt if Butch did either.
The next morning he still lived, and step two came into play.
"We have to find someone who will donate, and fast," a male doctor explained.
I spoke without hesitation. "James and I are the same blood type. I'll gladly volunteer."
They were skeptical about my decision. I'd lost some blood in the past days too and losing more wouldn't do any good.
"I'm not going to die if I lose a little," I snapped. "He will."
No one could argue with that. The process was quick and painless- but at that point I was so exhausted you probably could have cut off my arm and I wouldn't have noticed. A day and a half of no sleep is too much, and a transfusion doesn't help. Despite my protests, my body just was too tired to stay awake anymore. I drifted off to sleep around noon, hoping that when I awoke this would all have been some terrible nightmare.

James
I was in complete and absolute darkness. That was my first and only thought for several seconds. Then, slowly, I noticed that something- it was impossible to see anything- was pulling at me. Without thinking I fought back, wondering who and what was going on.
Was I dreaming? No, this was deeper than even the deepest sleep. I had no idea what was going on outside of the small part of my mind that was thinking straight. But I couldn't be dead; death wasn't an eternal struggle in pitch black.
It hit me like a thunderbolt. I was still alive, thankfully, but clinging onto the barest strands of life. And what was fighting me? It could only be death itself. I'd heard once that even in your last moments your body struggles valiantly for life; that's what was happening to me.
I fought with all my heart and soul, but the strength was being drained from me all too quickly. At first I had been determined to survive, but soon I was too exhausted to really care either way. I felt myself slipping on the threshold of the netherworld... suddenly, energy! Sweet beautiful energy! I think, deep in my subconscious, I was thinking "blood donor" but most of me was so out of it I really couldn't say. All I knew was that I was gaining the upper hand in my battle; soon there was only the slightest bit of a tug. Then it stopped all-together. I'd won.
Exhausted but not weakened, I settled back down into the depths of a regular and dreamless sleep.

Author's note: Good? Bad? Too long? Etc? Whatever you wanna say you can send to Jayhawkfan13@aol.com