Chartreuse

James awoke to a foot being pressed painfully down on his chest. "Jessie, stop," he said, swatting groggily at the foot. But when he opened bleary eyes to get a better look at his attacker, he found himself staring up at a very grumpy looking Misty.

"YOU INTERRUPTED MY BEAUTY SLEEP LAST NIGHT!" she roared.

"I did not, it was Jessie!" James said testily. He squirmed a bit more to try to extricate himself from this highly awkward trap, but Misty was surprisingly strong. James was getting grumpier by the second, as he realized that Misty had interrupted a dream that he had been enjoying very much. Jessie had been giving him the ***Super Slippery Team Rocket Wet Lap Dance***, and smelling good, and—suddenly just what sort of a dream he had been having really sunk in, and James frantically tried to cover up his rapidly spreading blush with the flap of his sleeping bag. Unfortunately, it was pinned firmly down to his chest, and virtually immovable.

"Why are you blushing?" said Misty, finally lifting up her foot. James gasped for air and curled up into a little ball, thinking about doughnuts and refusing to answer.

"He's been doing that a lot lately…" muttered Jessie, sitting up.

"What, curling up into a fetal position or blushing?" asked Brock, who was standing beside Misty. Peeking out of his sleeping bag, James got the uncomfortable feeling that Brock was trying to surreptitiously look down the front of Jessie's nightgown.

"Both," replied Jessie as she sighed and flopped back onto her pillow.

"I have not!" James protested. He ventured out of the protective refuge of his sleeping bag to glare at all present. He found it interesting that Ash, the peskiest pest of all, wasn't there. "And whose beauty sleep was disrupted? I don't like being stepped on, thank you!" James began to pout. This was no fair. But he had to admit, Jessie was smelling wonderful this morning. This thought set off another intense blush.

"Just what were you doing to her last night?" Brock asked, leaning forward to look James in the eye. Though it was somewhat difficult to tell exactly where someone with lines for eyes was looking.

"Brock, grow UP!" Misty elbowed him in the side, hard, and Brock fell forward onto James, twitching.

"Ooo!" James screamed, extricating himself from beneath Brock and leaping up out of his sleeping bag. "Don't do that, Misty! You almost killed me!"

"And…sounded like…you…almost killed…Jessie…" gasped Brock.

With the suddenness of a striking arbok (not Jessie's arbok), Jessie flipped over onto her other side and whammed Brock in the head with a mallet. James had to admit to himself that it was pleasing.

"Shut UP, pest! I'm trying to get back to sleep here, and for your information I just happened to have a bad dream last night, James was in it, and I was a little freaked out when I woke up!!" She leapt up and glared down at him, clearly too annoyed to go back to sleep. She gave James the "okay now, let's get dressed simultaneously and make it look all cool" look, and they both flung off their pajamas to reveal Team Rocket uniforms.

"How do you do that?" asked Misty incredulously.

Ignoring Misty, James gave Jessie a bewildered look. "I was in your nightmare? What was I doing?"

"Umm…you were an evil carnivorous clown who was devouring small children at a daycare and laughing maniacally while you did so?"

"Oh…" James shuddered. "Freaky!"

"So…" gasped Brock, clutching his side. "The whole 'James! Get back I say! You stay away from me!' thing had nothing to do with you trying to rape her?"

"BROCK!!!" The collective roar escaping from three throats was joined by a collective stomping on Brock's head.

"Ugh, no wonder they replaced you! You're sick! I think I want Tracey back!" Misty spat.

"Only in the mornings! I haven't had my coffee yet!" whined Brock. "I'm still half asleep you know, and hey, when you get to my age, you always think the worst of situations…I think it's called Adolescent Paranoia…"

"That's true…" said James thoughtfully. "You know, when I was his age, I always thought that Meowth coming in late from whatever he does at night was an axe murderer entering our house to butcher us in our beds…"

"You still do," said Jessie disgustedly. "And then you fall out of your bed, screaming, and I have to go get water from the bathroom and splash it on your head to calm you down!"

"Well, I'm not much older than I was then, you know! And after you splash me, which does nothing to help, you realize how scary Meowth sounds too and we both start screaming and cling to each other for dear life! It happens every night when we're at home, you can't just go around denying that you're just as scared as I am and—"

"Um…excuse me?" said a very twerpish voice.

Jessie and James turned to look at the newcomer, identical surprised looks on their faces. James noticed that Brock had managed to pull himself back up to a standing position, and he and Misty were staring at the once-squabbling Team Rocket with completely blank expressions. Next to them stood a very short and annoying brat, otherwise known as Ash.

"Why are we over here, instead of at our own camp?" said Ash. He looked way up at his friends curiously.

Misty broke out of her trance. "We're making them PAY for waking me up in the MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!"

"What was that you said about wanting Tracey back, Misty?" said Brock, sipping the coffee that Ash had so thoughtfully brought him, and beginning to act relatively normal.

"Oh…um…nothing!" Misty said, laughing nervously and scuffing her slipper on the ground.

"Whoa, delayed reaction!" cackled Ash. "I wasn't even here for Misty's comment about Tracey! Don’t worry, Brock, he wasn’t that much better than you."

"Ash, shut UP!" Misty screamed, kicking him maliciously in the shins.

"I thought everyone hated that kid! And what kind of guy is named Tracey?" asked James.

"Oh, shut up, James, you wear women's clothing," muttered Misty.

"It makes a good disguise!" James screamed defensively. "You never recognize me when I'm in a dress, do you? Admit it!"

Misty and Brock looked skeptically at James, and it was clear what they were thinking. Ash, completely oblivious to the whole thing, was staring up at the treetops innocently, probably looking for some sort of a bird pokemon.

"I'm not gay!" yelled James defiantly. "For your information, I am a metrosexual, an entirely straight guy who is extremely comfortable with his sexuality and therefore entirely able to get in touch with his feminine side! In fact, I have a really big crush on…this one girl," he finished lamely, turning bright red for the umpteenth time that morning.

"Ooh, who?" squealed Misty, darting very obvious glances in Jessie's direction. Jessie wasn't even paying attention anymore. She was too busy loading her hair with ***Super-Sticky Team Rocket Industrial Strength Hairspray***.

"Um…none of your business," said James. He stuck his tongue out at Misty.

"What? You have a crush on…a girl? Eeeew! That's so gross! Cooties!" spat Ash, bursting out of his little trance.

"Oh, come on, Ash! That's nothing! As of this moment, I have…" Brock flipped through his notebook. "A crush on 217 girls, and I'm deeply in love with at least 23."

"EEEEEEEEWWWWW!!!!" shouted Ash. Pikachu chose that moment to hop out of the bushes and onto Ash's bare foot.

"Pi?" asked Pikachu.

"I'm not the one you should suspect of being gay…" James said behind his hand to Brock and Misty.

"Yeah…you do wear girls' clothes, Ash," said Misty, looking at the twerp appraisingly.

"What?" said Ash, "I have no idea what you're talking about! What's gay? And that dress thing was…a good disguise!"

Misty, Brock, James, and Pikachu had stopped listening and started staring open mouthed at Ash as soon as he said "what's gay?" This was the age of highly accessible cable TV, after all.

"JAMES!!" a very loud voice yelled right into his ear.

"What?" said James, ceasing to stare at Ash.

"Come on, let's get into the nearest town and play golf!" said Jessie, tugging on his sleeve.

"Golf?"

"Hey, aren't you going to try to steal Pikachu?" asked Ash, looking disappointed.

"Heck no. We were just stalking you, that's all. It's fun," said Jessie, starting to pull James past the twerps in the direction of the nearest town.

"By the way," said James. "What's the name of the town we're going to?"

"Oh! It's Doughnut Town!" said the unfortunate Ash.

Jessie's eyes flashed, and she released James' arm to attend to more important business. The poor twerp never even knew what hit him.

Three hours later, James was lining up for the first shot of the 17th hole at the Doughnut Town Golfing Place.

"Now, James," said Jessie, who was ahead of him by 54 shots, and well under par. "Don't swing too hard. You might throw out one of your shoulders, again." James had had several shoulder dislocations during this particular game of golf. They had hurt badly, but he had insisted that the game go on and had had Jessie just pound them back into place with her mallet.

"Um…okay. I'll try. Again," said James. He lined up the shot, and took a swing. The ball flew through the air in a beautiful arc—straight for another golfer's head. "Fore!" cried James desperately, but it was too late. He had just knocked out his fifth person that day.

"Oh, James, you're hopeless," sighed Jessie, pulling out her cell phone and calling the paramedics. Again.

"I didn't mean to," muttered James. Checking to see that Jessie wasn't looking, James picked up the ball, walked over to the hole, and placed it inside. Put-put was just too difficult not to cheat sometimes!

"Okay, James," sighed Jessie as she somehow stashed her phone inside her jacket. "My turn?"

James nodded.

"Where's your ball?" Jessie asked suspiciously.

"Um…well, I took another shot while you were talking on the phone, and hit it in the hole!"

Jessie looked at him skeptically for a moment, then just nodded and scribbled something on her score sheet. She lined up to make the put, and hit the ball gracefully, sending it rolling perfectly into the hole. The ball didn't even leave the ground! She walked over to the hole to fish out their golf balls, and handed the blue one to James. "Do you even want to do the next hole, James? I'm ahead of you by 55 shots. Do you want to just call it good and not risk any further injury to yourself and others?"

James eyed the windmill that guarded hole 18. He doubted that he would ever be able to get past that thing. "Um, yeah. That windmill looks pretty scary! Can we go for ice cream?"

A small smile appeared on Jessie's face. Was she laughing at him? "Sure, James. We can get ice cream. Cold Stone or Baskin Robbins?"

"Ooo, Cold Stone! They give you more, and I think they have a jelly filled…uh…d-word flavor," he replied excitedly, walking with Jessie to drop their red and blue balls down the tube that acted as the last hole.

"Well. I guess it's settled, then."

Cold Stone was just down the street from the Doughnut Town Golfing Place, so in no time Jessie and James were standing in line, getting ready to make their orders.

"Um…Jessie?"

"Hmm?"

"You might want to go into the bathroom or something when I make my order…I don't want to provoke any vicious attacks, or anything…"

"Oh. Don't worry about it James. I'll just do my best to ignore you."

"Um…okay. If you promise not to hurt me or the general public."

"I promise, James."

By that time, it was James' turn to order, and of course he ordered jelly-filled doughnut flavored ice cream. James looked at Jessie cautiously to see what her reaction to this was. He thought he saw her eye twitch a little, but that was all. James mentally applauded her as she ordered a strawberry blonde. She hadn't hit anyone! Jessie was getting over…whatever her problem was!

"Good job, Jessie!" cried James as they paid for their ice cream. He took his gigantic cone and Jessie took hers, and they went outside to sit and enjoy the beautiful spring weather.

"For what?" asked Jessie, spooning a large amount of ice cream into her mouth. James knew there was no way that she would actually lick and ice cream cone. It would ruin her lipstick.

"Well, you didn't go bonkers when I said 'doughnut'!" There it was again. The eye twitch. It must have been hard for her to hold it in, but Jessie was finally getting some self control! Maybe James wouldn't have to be hit so much anymore! Or maybe the word "doughnut" just wasn’t' such a hot button anymore. Either way, it added up to less pain for James.

"No. I didn't."

"Why's 'doughnut' so bad, anyway?" Eye twitch. "I mean, so it was the location of your bad dream. So what?"

"James."

"You don't refuse to talk to me, and I was an evil clown! So 'doughnut' really shouldn't bother you."

"James."

"Besides, it was just a dream. I just think you're being a little irrational, that's all." James was getting a little carried away with this, and he knew it. But he wasn't getting hit!

"James!" It looked as if Jessie was going to leap forward and throttle him. James was a little surprised, because she had been so unusually calm, but instead of contemplating it he did what anyone with any shred of intelligence would do. He hid under the table, air-raid style. But the blow from Jessie never came. James ventured cautiously out from his hiding place, trying to see what was keeping her from diving under the table with him and hacking him to pieces with her paper fan.

Jessie was just standing there, frozen. Her mallet was poised in her hands, and her head was turned so that James couldn't see her eyes, but he had the feeling she was staring at something.

And then he realized what it was. Officer Jenny was walking down the street, screaming into her megaphone. Jessie's head turned to follow Jenny's path. Naturally, James could see why Officer Jenny would disturb Jessie. They were wanted criminals, after all. But normally Jessie wouldn't be standing there, transfixed. Instead, she would probably glue a mustache to her face, have James do the same, and engage in an activity that's good for hiding faces, like playing cards. The way Jessie was standing there now, Jenny could easily see and identify her in an instant.

"Hey everyone!" Jenny was yelling. "Guess what time it is?"

As soon as Jenny finished the question, Jessie was off like a shot, mallet raised above her head. James was now witnessing the reverse form of police brutality. Jessie was beating Jenny to a pulp! James ran up behind her to see if he could get her to stop. Jessie had completely snapped!

"Don't you dare say anything involving asterisks! How dare you! HOW DARE YOU!"

"Please…" whimpered Jenny. "I don't know what you're talking about! I was just going to say that it's free doughnut time!"

That really set Jessie off. With a scream of rage, she began beating Jenny even harder. James knew he had to intervene.

"Jessie! Stop it!" he shouted, putting his arms beneath Jessie's armpits and lifting her firmly away from her victim.

"Let me go! Let me go!" Jessie screamed, kicking and trying to bite James through his glove.

"No! You've totally snapped, Jessie! Calm down!" James nervously eyed Jenny, who was saying something hurriedly into her intercom. Almost immediately, police cars pulled up around them. "Now look what your insanity has done, Jessie! You do know that we're wanted already, don’t you?"

James felt Jessie go limp. She leaned her head back against his chest, panting. "I'm sorry, James! That dream…I just…snapped." She squirmed a little. "Let go. That hurts."

James let her slide down to the ground and watched as the police approached. All the way to the police station, he couldn't shake the feeling that this strange behavior of Jessie's was only the beginning. His good smelling partner that he liked a lot—heck, she might even be his good smelling partner that he loved, since he really didn't know the difference—was going crazy.

* * *

Jessie slid down the wall of the cell into a sitting position. As usual, they had put her in a cell along with James, but she wasn't quite sure whether she liked that or not, right now. She felt ashamed for her behavior earlier that day, and had the feeling that if she talked to James, he would bring it up. So she didn't want to talk. She really didn't know what had been wrong with her. That dream was really getting to her, more than any dream ever had before. Oh God, she thought. Maybe it's because it wasn't a nightmare at all. Maybe I…like James and I'm not letting myself accept it or something… Jessie shook her head. She was slightly afraid of the fact that she had been about to mentally spout out a long string of psychological mumbo-jumbo. There was no way that that stuff applied to her!

Jessie sighed and looked over at James. She supposed that now was as good a time as any to tell him what she had been thinking about quitting Team Rocket. In this dirty cell, it seemed like a very good idea. I guess I should feel lucky, Jessie said to herself. She'd gotten off relatively easy, because James had insisted quite firmly to the police that she was going insane. She supported his statement by babbling about peanuts for a while, just to make sure they believed him. She had no idea what the penalty was for beating a cop, but she was sure that she didn't want to find out. But, as she and James were wanted criminals, here they were in this stupid cell, trying to ignore the strange statements of the unseen inmate in the cell beside them.

"James?" she said, deciding to make this quick.

"Hmm?"

"I want to quit Team Rocket."

"Okay." Jessie waited for her statement to sink in. "WHAT!?"

"Well, you said that you wanted to, too."

"But you hit me for it!"

"Oh, come on, James, what did you expect me to do?"

"Good point…" James stared at her incredulously. "You sure?"

"Yes! I'm tired of being a bad guy and always getting arrested and blasting off and URGH! Why can't we just be farmers or something?"

"Farmers..?"

"You know what I mean!" Jessie pulled two shovels out of the air, and threw one to James. "Here! We've been here long enough. Time to dig out."