It wasn’t anything special, shiny and red. The rubber on the handlebars so comfortably worn that she most likely wasn’t the first owner. I had leapt onto the seat without a second thought and began to pedal off into the direction she had pointed out. The good boy I was raised to be would have asked politely. My mother tried the best she could, but manners were something I threw out the window in most situations. A near dead pokemon in my arms was one of those situations.
I honestly didn’t mean to burn it up, the spearow came after us and I tried to distract them. If we want to get technical, it was Pikachu that ruined the bike, but who can blame him? Not I and certainly not the girl. Yet she followed me all the way to Viridian City with her charred bike on her shoulders. To her, the bike meant freedom and I had taken that. She wasn’t going to let me get away with it either. Suddenly the duo of my Pikachu and I became a trio. Then a quartet when our other friend Brock joined in, but this isn’t about him. This is about her.
Her. Misty. With the pin straight orange hair and freckles so small you could hardly see them across the bridge of her nose. Her eyes weren’t quite blue and they weren’t quite green but they had the power to see into the depths of your soul. She almost never wore dresses, opting for shorts instead. Her temper was as short as they come, but she could be sweet when she wanted to be which was hardly ever. When I became a pokemon master there were tons of girls that wanted me. Nice girls, beautiful girls, the sort of girls that would stay home and do all the cooking and cleaning like my mom does. A nice life, hot shot trainer who goes out and sees the world with his wife waiting patiently for him at home. The funny thing is that I didn’t want these girls; I wanted Misty. And Misty isn’t the sort of girl that waits for anything patiently. Although, she waited for me.
For 10 long years she waited for me to realize that we had something special. She knew, but then Misty’s always been smarter than me. Not that I’ll ever tell her that. She’s known since we were 11 that I was her soul mate. I took longer, I didn’t see it until we were 21, but oh, we made up for the lost time. I was glad it took me so long to realize Misty and I were made for each other. It meant that both of us had been with other people. She wasn’t the first person I kissed, or even the one I lost my virginity to. Those milestones were experienced with other people, same with Misty. The fumbling hands and awkwardness that comes with your first time was gone, leaving us the opportunity to fall into a passionate rhythm. Besides, when it’s your soul mate, you don’t have time to worry about that sort of stuff.
We married quickly, after only dating for a 7 months. Partly because there was no point in waiting, we knew that we had found The One. Partly because we found out that Misty was pregnant. No, it wasn’t the ideal. Generally you date for awhile, get married, and the kids come a little later. Nothing was ever perfect, but it worked. Our son came first, a few years later he was joined by a sister. Our last child, a spunky red head like her mother, and my secret favorite; came as a shock to us both.
Imagine, a dorky little kid from Pallet Town growing up to become one of the youngest pokemon masters and marrying the girl of his dreams. And it all started with a bike.
My attention was brought back to the real world by a voice. I turned my head slowly meeting up with her eyes. Not quite blue, not quite green, and they were laughing at me. My gaze fell to the floor; her shoes were well worn yellow flip flops, her footwear of choice since having 3 kids to chase after. I followed her up taking in the jeans and yellow polo shirt until finally catching her gaze again, grinning.
“Did you figure out what we should get Jake?” she asked crossing her arms over her chest.
Oh, yeah. The reason I had found myself standing in the…appliance…section…I could feel my face turn red as she raised an eyebrow at me. I was usually pretty good at picking out gifts for our children, but this was different. This was Jake’s 10th birthday and we wanted to make sure we got him something special that he could take with him on his own journey; which he was eager to start.
“I can’t think of anything good enough. Maybe we should go with your idea and get him a backpack full of supplies…” I trailed off kicking myself for not coming up with something better. Misty sighed, disappointed as well and started to walk towards the camping aisle for a backpack. In a flash it hit me, the perfect gift. I grabbed her hand roughly and started to pull her toward the back of the store.
“Ash! What are you…” she asked running to keep up with my quick strides. I stopped abruptly pulling her in front of me gazing at the racks with a grin. It took Mist a second but once she realized what I was thinking, she laughed out loud.
“He might need one to meet girls.” I joked.
“He’s going to roll his eyes and groan when he sees this.” She shook her head, still laughing.
I didn’t respond, it was true, our children had heard the story of how we met so many times they could tell it as if they were there. Still, I walked down the aisle eying every bike I passed until I saw it. Red, with a tiny bell and black rubber grips on the handles. Nothing special, but it was perfect.
a/n: I had to post it, I was reading a lot of hints lists and I kept seeing the bike over and over again that this short little thing popped into my head. It's only a little over 1,000 words and pure fluff. I wrote it in one sitting so let me know what you think. I know that Ash and Misty may be a little ooc, but they're also in their 30s, it's called growing up.