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“Maybe it wasn’t love. Maybe it was just hope dressed up like romance… and I was desperate enough to fall for it.”
Jessie stared into the fire, the flames dancing with a life of their own… flickering, crackling, and hissing as if whispering secrets she couldn’t quite understand. She could see the embers appearing like faces, staring at her with quiet judgement and grief. She could almost hear them sigh in disappointment. And why wouldn’t they? She’d woven herself into a fairytale again, a fantasy of her own making. It wasn’t the first time, no. But never had it unraveled with such weight, never had it come so close to making her forget who her real friends were.
Quite embarrassing to think about... James… Meowth… they had always been there, through every misstep and every storm. And yet, she'd nearly thrown it all away for an illusion.
Now in the aftermath, the ache of unrequited love crept in again. Not because she had loved Dr. White deeply - she hadn’t. But it would have meant something, just once, to have a man choose her. To feel desired, even fleetingly. Just once, she wanted to be seen.
Lost in thought, Jessie barely noticed as James extended a small, slightly charred sausage on a stick toward her, one of the last scraps they had left after the chaos of the day. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could offer.
She turned away, the sight of it doing nothing to stir her appetite. Her stomach was already knotted with grief, too full of emotions for food to stand a chance.
James let out a quiet sigh. “Very well…” he murmured, not entirely convinced it was a good idea to eat her share, but unsure what else to do.
“I’ll take it if she won’t!” Meowth piped up without hesitation. With a swift hop, he snatched the sausage from the stick and chomped it down in a single bite.
Licking his paws with great satisfaction, Meowth declared, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to see if I can forage some berries for dessert. Still plenty of room for that.” And with that, he trotted confidently into the dark underbrush, tail swaying behind him as he disappeared into the forest.
The silence between the two remaining humans was heavy, stretched tight like a wire about to snap. James sat still, feeling the weight of unspoken words pressing down on him, urging him to say something, anything, but his mind remained blank. What could he possibly say? All he could think about was how close he’d come to losing her, his best friend, his partner in crime, the one constant in a life full of chaos.
He had wanted her to have happiness, truly. If Dr. White could give her that, he would’ve swallowed his own feelings and let her go. But the memory of her voice haunted him, calm, resolute, and without hesitation as she said she was staying. Not a flicker of doubt. That moment had carved something deep inside him, a quiet wound he didn’t know how to close.
And now, with the fire crackling between them and her just an arm’s length away, the ache remained. Not for romance, necessarily, but for the bond that had almost slipped through his fingers like smoke.
As the quiet moment stretched on, things started to feel increasingly awkward. James shifted uncomfortably, then reached behind to rummage through his bag. After a moment, he pulled out a bottle, amber liquid sloshing gently inside, the label worn and smudged but still legible in the firelight.
“When I was looking for Inkay and Meowth, I found this near the poacher’s truck,” he said, turning the bottle in his hands. It was clear it had been dropped in all that turmoil. His eyes lingered on the label for a beat. “Looks like some kind of whiskey,” he remarked, a faint smile curved his lips. “Reminds me of our time at the academy. Remember that silly drinking game we played with the other rookies on graduation day?”
Jessie turned her head just enough to get a look. A drink sounded tempting, if not for the taste, then at least for the distraction. But the mention of that night stirred something else. A grin crept onto her face before she could stop it.
“You mean the game you chickened out of because you didn’t want to reveal any of your deep, dark secrets?” she teased.
James chuckled, a little self-conscious. “Something like that,” he said, glancing her way. “I wouldn’t mind playing it again... Just the two of us this time. Not like we have anything to hide from each other anyway.”
Jessie gave a dry little laugh, soft but hollow. It hovered somewhere between nostalgia and a silent pain. Maybe they had shared more than most. But even so... maybe there were still things neither of them had ever dared to say.
With a swift twist of the cap, James opened the bottle and immediately recoiled from the sharp scent that hit his nose. He wrinkled his face in distaste, shaking his head as if the fumes alone were too much. Hard liquor had never been his thing, especially not straight from the bottle.
He reached for the battered tin cup resting beside him, pouring in a modest splash of the whiskey before grabbing the nearby water jug and topping it off. The liquid swirled into a paler amber, far more to his liking.
As he swirled it, Jessie extended her hand, holding out her own cup with a knowing smirk. “Afraid it’ll knock you out?” she teased. “I would drink that straight, but I guess not everyone is built like me.”
James cast her a sideways glance, unimpressed but clearly fond. “I wasn’t aware self-destruction was a flex.”
Jessie snorted. “Only when it looks this good.”
He shook his head and filled her cup anyway, diluting it just like his before handing it back to her.
“So,” Jessie said, holding her cup loosely in both hands. “Who’s going first?”
“Ladies first,” James replied gently, giving his drink a slow swirl.
Jessie gave a tired shrug. “Alright then. Never have I ever... pretended to be someone I’m not.”
She took a sip right away, no hesitation, no theatrics, just a quiet acknowledgement.
James glanced over at her, brow slightly furrowed, then sighed and took a sip himself. Even watered down, the burn was unpleasant, but he didn’t complain.
“Your turn,” Jessie said, her cheeks beginning to flush from the warmth of the drink.
James gave a thoughtful nod, then smirked faintly. “Never have I ever… beaten a Pokémon with my bare hands.”
He shot her a knowing look.
Jessie narrowed her eyes, immediately clocking the reference. “That wasn’t a beating. That was self-defense. And I’m still bitter about my hair.”
Still, she took a drink.
James chuckled into his cup.
Jessie leaned back slightly, cradling hers. “Well then. Never have I ever cried over lending my Pokémon to my partner.”
The smile slid right off James’ face.
“Oh, come on,” he groaned, lifting his cup with a pout. “They’re like my babies. Of course I worry something might happen to them if-”
He stopped himself mid-sentence, lips tightening. He didn’t mean to dig. But the way she looked at him told him she’d heard it that way.
“I just… I know I can be a little overprotective,” he admitted quietly, taking a small swig before lowering his cup in his lap.
“Very well,” Jessie said, swirling the contents of her cup. “Your turn.”
James exhaled, shoulders tight. “Never have I ever… broken something and blamed Meowth.”
Jessie didn’t even flinch. She downed a sip without hesitation. “Do you have to call me out like that?”
James smirked. “It was a very expensive gadget.”
“Worth it,” she said breezily, then leaned in a little, eyes glinting. “Never have I ever had the chance to be rich and turned it down.”
James’ smile faltered instantly. “This isn’t fair. I had good reasons-!”
He cut himself off, grimacing as he took his drink, face contorting at the taste.
“Doesn’t change the fact that you did,” Jessie replied with a shrug, almost too casually.
James shifted uncomfortably, starting to regret suggesting the game at all. The ghosts of his past lingered like smoke, especially her. He could practically hear Jessebelle’s voice in his head again.
And it wasn’t like Jessie meant it as a jab. Still, something about it got under his skin. Maybe because she’d never really asked what those reasons were.
He glanced at her sideways. She was sipping casually now, like they hadn’t all nearly fallen apart before.
His mind drifted to the cottage, how she’d stood there smiling, talking to Dr. White while the sun beamed at her. How he and Meowth had walked away, pretending it didn’t ache. She’d told the twerps she chose a life with the doctor… but never them. Not directly.
He didn’t want to hold it against her. Really, he didn’t. But apparently his mouth did.
“Never have I ever abandoned my friends for a guy I just met,” he said flatly.
Jessie’s head whipped toward him, stunned. Her eyes narrowed, lips tightening as she raised her drink and took a long sip.
The alcohol was catching up to her, warming her limbs and dulling the sting, though not enough to miss how bitterly James had looked at her just then. It still hurt him, no doubt. Maybe more than she’d thought.
There was a pause.
She should’ve let it go.
But something in her pushed her forward anyway.
“Never have I ever been jealous of my partner’s love interest.”
James blinked, caught off guard.
“What?” he stammered, ears tinting red.
He hesitated, turning his cup round and round nervously.
But then, slowly, and to Jessie’s surprise, he took a drink.
Jessie’s brows rose, something unspoken flickering in her eyes. She hadn’t expected him to admit it. Hadn’t expected him to feel that way. And now, suddenly, she found herself looking at him just a little differently.
There was a tense silence between them again, not awkward, but heavy, like the forest itself had gone still to listen in. Embers cracked softly in the fire. Somewhere out there, Meowth rustled through the brush, blissfully unaware of the slow unraveling taking place back at camp.
Jessie stared into her cup, the whiskey dark and diluted now, but still biting enough to remind her she was alive. And hurting. And warm in all the wrong places.
So many things left unsaid. So many questions that never quite made it past the filter of pride or fear. It would seem there were still secrets between them, more than either had realized. And this silly game, with its teasing edge and drunken vulnerability, was letting them slip through the cracks.
James, for all his usual restraint, seemed unable to stop now. His voice was quieter than before, touched with something raw and unguarded.
“Never have I ever… thought I’d find the one person I couldn’t imagine being without.”
The words settled between them and, slowly, James lifted his cup and took a drink.
The sight of it knocked Jessie’s breath out of her lungs, her fingers tightening around her cup. The question hung there like a dare, laced with implications she couldn’t afford to unravel. Her heart knocked uncomfortably against her ribs, unsure how to take the words. Unsure if they were meant for her, or if she only wished they were.
He looked at her, but didn’t press.
She didn’t drink.
She couldn’t.
Because she didn’t know what the truth was anymore.
Part of her had always wanted him - needed him, maybe. But he never seemed interested. Thought maybe that he just wasn’t into her. Or into anyone. But still… he stayed. He was always there. Loyal. Kind. Soft-spoken. Stronger than he looked.
And now, here he was, drinking to something so… personal.
She tried to make sense of him, of the flush in his cheeks, the unsteady smile, and realized that maybe she didn’t know him as well as she thought.
She wasn’t sure what she saw. Maybe she didn’t want to know. So she didn’t ask. She just leaned back slightly, her voice softer than before. “Never have I ever… wanted to kiss someone so badly,... but was too afraid I’d ruin everything if I did.”
And then, casually, like it hadn’t meant anything at all, she drank.
But her eyes didn’t leave his. The heat from the fire licked at her cheeks, but it wasn’t the whiskey making her flush this time.
James froze, cup halfway to his lips. For a moment, he looked like he didn’t know how to breathe.
Her words hit harder than she probably meant them to, unless she had meant them that way. And if she had… it changed everything.
Jessie was watching him now, not teasing, not playing, but searching. Like maybe she didn’t know the answer to this one. Like maybe he was the one keeping the secret now.
He looked down, swallowing thickly. His fingers curled tighter around the cup in his hand. “Jessie…”
It came out so soft, like it might fall apart on his tongue.
He took a small sip, more to buy time than anything, but then set the cup down with a faint clink and gave a bitter little smile.
“Never have I ever… kissed anyone.”
He didn’t drink.
Jessie blinked.
That wasn’t what she expected. Not even close.
For a beat, she didn’t know what to say. James didn’t look ashamed, but there was something in his eyes, something tender and bare, like he was afraid of how she might see him now.
Jessie stared at him for a long moment.
“…Really?” she asked softly, brows slightly lifted, not mocking, not disbelieving, just… surprised. And maybe a little heartbroken.
James gave a small, wry smile. “Yeah,” he said. “Really.”
He swirled what remained in his cup, the firelight casting a flicker over his expression, gentle, but haunted.
“There was one time,” he admitted, voice quieter now. “When Jessebelle tried to kiss me.”
Jessie straightened at the name, her mouth setting into a tighter line.
“I pulled away,” he went on, barely above a murmur now. “Said I didn’t want to. That it didn’t feel right. And she…”
He stopped for a moment, fingers curling around his cup again, as if holding onto it kept him steady.
“She bit me,” he said with a shaky laugh that had no humor in it. “Hard. Right here.” He pointed to the curve of his jaw just under his ear. “Then slapped me across the face and told me I was a disgrace. That no proper gentleman refuses a lady’s kiss.”
Jessie’s heart sank like a stone.
The fire crackled quietly between them, the only sound in the world for a moment.
Her expression had softened, eyes tracing the faint line of his jaw where he’d pointed. She imagined it, the sharp sting, the cruelty, the way it must have twisted his view of closeness, of what it meant to be wanted.
There was fire in her belly now, not just from the whiskey, but something protective and livid. “That’s awful,” she said. “That’s not… James, that’s not how that’s supposed to be.”
“I know,” he said quietly.
Jessie looked at him, really looked, and something in her chest ached.
“…Would you reject me too?” she asked, almost too quietly, not sure why the words came out at all. “If I asked?”
James looked at her then, eyes wide, a little dazed from the drink, but clear with something else, too.
“No,” he said, like it was the easiest truth in the world.
Jessie blinked.
“I wouldn’t,” he repeated. “Not you. Never you.”
She felt her breath catch in her throat but his gaze didn’t falter. It held hers gently, like something fragile he didn’t want to risk letting slip. She wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, facing each other, not moving, not breathing too loud.
The warmth between them wasn’t just from the fire. It pulsed through the space, blurring the world around them. Jessie’s lips parted, not to speak, but to take in the look on his face, the way his cheeks were flushed, the way his shoulders had lowered like he’d finally got rid of a heavy load.
Her hand moved before she even thought about it, resting lightly on his knee. Just that simple touch made James stiffen for a second, but he didn’t pull away. He tilted his head slightly, gaze dipping to her mouth and back, unsure, but hopeful.
And Jessie leaned in. Slowly. Not with a smirk, not with fire, but with something far softer. Something that trembled a little.
Their lips met, tentative at first, like a question neither had dared ask until now. But the moment they touched, something shifted. Something deep.
It was soft, barely a whisper, but it lit a spark under Jessie’s skin. Her breath caught in her throat, the warmth of him sinking into her with startling clarity. She could feel the slight tremble in his shoulders, the unsure press of his mouth against hers, like he was still afraid to take too much. But she felt it all the same, the way he leaned into her, the way he wanted this too.
And by Arceus, so did she.
Her hand slid up, fingers threading through the soft lavender strands of his hair, tugging him just slightly closer… gently, reverently, like she could draw him deeper into her.
James responded then, not with boldness, but with feeling. Arms wrapping around her, drawing her to him with a sudden fierceness, as if he’d been holding back for far too long and couldn’t any longer. He held her like she might disappear if he let go.
And Jessie, in his arms, felt the wall she’d built against disappointment crumbling around her.
The kiss deepened without them even realizing, mouths learning, finding rhythm, slow and aching. He tasted faintly of whiskey, warmth and hesitation and something wholly James. It wasn’t perfect, wasn’t practiced, but it was theirs. Real. Honest.
Jessie pulled back just an inch, enough to brush her nose along his, catching his breath on her lips.
Their foreheads stayed pressed together and neither moved for a long moment, as though the stillness itself was sacred.
The fire crackled softly nearby.
James swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like… I should say something…”
But Jessie, eyes still half-lidded and dazed with something unspoken, shook her head gently. “Don’t,” she whispered, and before he could even draw another breath, her lips found his again.
This time, it wasn’t hesitant. There was no questioning in it. No fear.
She kissed him like she meant it, like she was trying to make up for lost time. Her arms slipped around his shoulders, fingers curling at the nape of his neck as she melted into him, shifting herself onto his lap without even thinking. The motion was smooth, seamless, like they were meant to fit just this way.
James was no stranger to physical contact with her, but this time it sparked something stronger. He gasped softly against her mouth, caught off guard by the sudden electric pulse rushing through his veins. His hands found her waist, grounding himself. And then he kissed her back, with a kind of aching reverence that pulled her closer. There was a sudden awareness of how much he needed this. How much he had always needed her .
Jessie tilted her head, her parted lips inviting more. Every brush of his mouth against hers, every small sound he made, sent ripples down her spine. His hesitation had faded into something more certain now, and it undid her completely.
And for a moment, in the space between heartbeats and quiet gasps, the years of longing, of distance, of almosts and maybes, all of it, melted away.
They were here. Together. And neither one was holding back anymore.
Then…
CRACK.
A twig snapped somewhere behind them.
Both of them froze.
“…You’ve gotta be kidding me,” came Meowth’s voice, echoing just enough through the clearing to make them jolt. “I leave for ten minutes to grab you all some berries, and this is what I come back to?”
Jessie groaned softly, forehead thudding against James’ shoulder. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered under her breath.
Meowth emerged from the shadows, one paw holding a pile of berries, the other dramatically shielding his eyes. “Hey, don’t let me stop you. By all means, continue. Just pretend the emotionally exhausted feline third wheel isn’t here.”
James flushed furiously, arms loosening just enough for Jessie to sit back, though he didn’t move far. “W-we weren’t doing anything!”
“Oh please,” Meowth waved a paw. “I’m not blind, Jimmy. I seen less tension in a Machoke match.”
Jessie narrowed her eyes at him, though the edges of her lips were twitching with reluctant amusement. “Meowth. Timing.”
“What? You two were about one smooch away from turning this into a whole new game! I figured better to interrupt now before someone ends up losing their pants.”
James made a strangled sound. Jessie laughed, finally sliding off his lap and swatting Meowth lightly with a stick she grabbed from nearby.
“Ten minutes of peace, that’s all I ask,” she muttered as Meowth dodged and scampered just out of reach.
“I leave you two lovebirds alone and you go full soap opera on me. I knew there was something brewing! This is gonna keep me entertained for weeks.”
James buried his face in his hands. “Please don’t tell the Boss…”
Meowth grinned, his fangs glinting in the firelight as he popped one berry. “I make no promises.”