Chapter One:

"It was such a pleasure serving you. Come back soon!" the magenta haired waitress gushed, swiping the tip off the table and stashing it in her apron. She bustled to the next table, smiling cheerfully and remembering she needed a calm demeanor. As if. Her manager must be kidding himself to think she wasn't the epitome of etiquette and eloquence.

"Watch where you're going," she hissed, practically using Tackle on the waiter who rounded the same corner carrying a tray full of choice steak, lobster, and other things she wasn't sure she pronounced correctly. That was another thing her manager didn't particularly like about her. Not that she cared.

The blue haired man held back a yelp as the plates slid, almost toppling over the side. He managed to reorient them and sighed in relief.

"What's all that noise?" she heard sharply from the kitchen.

"Nothing," both said at the same time, hurrying away.

"You're going to get us both fired," Jessie snapped.

"You ran into me!"

"Next time make sure you go through the right door."

"I was on the right side."

Jessie resisted the urge to smack him. At least she got to see him tremble underneath the weight of the tray. "Don't mess this up. We need enough money for our Pikachu Project."

James was about to speak, but a small figure peeked out the door wearing a chef's hat. "What are ya doin' out there? Da boss is getting Durantsy."

"You get back to work. And stop burning the food," Jessie said with venom. Meowth muttered to himself, careful not to catch his tail in the door as he went back into the kitchen.

"Jessie?"

"Yeah?" She was busy thinking about her tables and looked to find her apprehensive partner. "What is it, James? Spit it out."

"Don't you think we've been at this too long?"

"We have been working overtime. You know it's all about the money."

"No. I mean with Ash. I mean, the brat," he corrected himself hurriedly at Jessie's narrowed eyes. "It's almost been eleven years. He's not even traveling around anymore."

"He's just taking a break," Jessie said offhandedly, pulling out her tips of the day to begin to count them.

"It's been a very long break."

"Which makes it easier to follow him around and hold down jobs." Jessie grinned wickedly, waving the money in James' face.

He looked down, arms trembling from the weight of the tray. "I suppose. I only thought—"

"Why are you two chatting!?" A man peeked from the kitchen, mustache bristling in anger.

James and Jessie sped off in different directions, obeying every whim of their customers. Just as told, smiles and all. But James was feeling particularly melancholy, like a bottle cap that hadn't been shined and given its due attention. One that was a bit deformed and knew it was supposed to fit on a bottle, but would never be able to embrace its home again.

He tried to figure out what was bothering him. The anniversary was coming up, really. It was September after all. When was it again that they first tried to capture Pikachu? September twelfth? Fourteenth? Seventh? No, the seventh was yesterday. Was it the eighth?

If it was today, I'm sure Jessie or Meowth would have remembered. It's not as if we don't use any excuse to celebrate, however depressing it may be, James thought sullenly.

He helped clear one of Jessie's tables, removing the white cotton sheet that needed to be washed. It was the fanciest restaurant he had ever set foot in and it just so happened that he worked there. A lobster tank was suspended in the lobby for guests to pick their food fresh. Meowth was not a fan of killing the creatures—not after one had clamped onto his tail. As always, Team Rocket wasn't particularly good at what they were doing. Not when their ultimate goal was capturing Pikachu, at least.

James sighed and shook his head, clearing it as he went to take the order of table seven. He pulled out the pad to take notes on drink orders, trying to pull himself together before the guests would notice his grimace.

"Hello, welcome to The Cerulean Starlight . My name is—" and then James looked at who he was serving. Two 20-somethings. The young man's shirt was a bit ruffled and the young woman's hair was disarrayed from the wind. Both of them seemed a bit out of place, nervous, and a lot less snobby than the people James was used to serving. He took a deep breath, pretending not to pause, "Jaime. I will be serving you this evening. What would you like to drink?"

The girl fidgeted slightly in her chair. Upon sitting down she had immediately put her cloth napkin on her lap, gripping it tightly as if for support. It was odd to see her so nervous, but then again James couldn't remember ever seeing her in a dress. "I'm fine with water."

"Me too," the boy said, staring at the menu, his eyes widening a bit, most likely due to the prices. His face was hidden from his date.

James bid an almost silent goodbye, heart hammering, pushing his classy, unneeded glasses up to the bridge of his nose. He ducked behind the lobster tank, eyes above the waterline to observe the red headed girl chatting to the raven haired boy, who burst out laughing in a too-loud manner, causing other guests to turn and stare in offense. His mouth opened in embarrassment before forming a sheepish smile, which the red head rolled her eyes at.

The twerps were here.

In his section.

And they most certainly would not leave a good tip if they knew who he was.

James sank under the lobster tank, holding back a groan. It wasn't the tip he was worried about or even seeing the twerps. It was how his partner would react.

James did not know why Jessie was so incredibly, psychotically passionate about capturing Pikachu. His first theory was that she had been shocked one, or a couple hundred, too many times. But then again, so had he and, in his modest opinion, he was a great deal saner than the woman. Yes, Pikachu was powerful, but after so many years, wouldn't it be wiser to throw in the towel? They could have been raising their own Pokemon this entire time. Caught them, even. James had done his research. Poke Balls were much less expensive than giant robots of mass destruction.

Speaking of giant robots of mass destruction, Jessie would turn into one if she found the twerps sitting down for a lovely dinner. And not because they wouldn't tip well. What would most likely happen was that Jessie would wreck the restaurant in what she would call the battle of the decade. The battle would get them fired and stuck with a bill for all the damage done to the property.

James was tired of it. He didn't want to live his life stalking a child, who had grown up far more than he realized. They would continue losing over and over again. Catching Pikachu was clearly not meant to be. And, besides, if James was being honest, he quite liked Ash—more than Jessie and Meowth seemed to. Stealing Pikachu wasn't anything personal. And now, if they ever did succeed, in truth he would feel too guilty to break up such close friends. That would be like someone stealing his beloved Growlie.

He sighed. He didn't really like life working at this restaurant. But at the same time, life was stable. Better. He wasn't being electrocuted on a daily basis. He wasn't being searched for by authorities to be thrown into jail. His life had more purpose that actually mattered, where he could focus on his friends (at least when Jessie was not rampantly planning their next attack). Life was, even with all the money troubles, good.

For the first time James thought it to himself and knew he meant it with every fiber of his being—he didn't want to try and catch Pikachu anymore.

He almost slapped a hand over his mouth, as if Jessie would hear his thought somehow and come strangle him for it. But it was true. He did not want to ever try and catch Pikachu again as long as he lived. He was done. No longer would he blast off again.

James peeked through the tank again, holding back a squeal as blue eyes glared suspiciously through the water.

"What are you doing hiding behind crustaceans?"

"Nothing!" James tried to lower his voice, "I was picking out one for one of my tables."

Her eyes narrowed. "We are on thin enough ice without your daydreaming. We need this job for our mission. We need to catch Pikachu."

He forced his shoulders not to drop in hopelessness. "Of course, Jessie."

She gave him a coy smile before rushing to her own section. James watched her go, skin paling. Her section was on the opposite side of the restaurant. She had to walk right past the twerps' table on her way to the kitchen.

James straightened. He would make sure she didn't notice Ash and Misty, er, the twerps. And maybe, with time, he could convince his friends that catching Pikachu was not as ideal as they made it out to be.

His mouth squirmed. At least he hoped he could. 

Hello Readers!

Well, poor James is in a pickle.

Don't worry, Pokeshippers, Ash and Misty will be in the next chapters more.

Pokemon Question of the Day: Have any of you seen the Sun and Moon episodes with Brock and Misty? I have and I want to know what you think. Was Misty herself? Not enough Pokeshipping? Think they hinted at it a little bit? Think they'll return in more episodes? Mark that you're spoiling the episode if you're spoiling it so people don't accidentally read them!

I've realized I have now been a Pokeshipper for 19 years. I waited 15 years for Misty to come back on the show. I think it's safe to say I'll be a Pokeshipper for life.

Tell me what you thought of the chapter! Peace out!

-Flips

PS: This chapter is dedicated to Cora-chan who designed the cover. Isn't it amazing? You should check out her Pokemon story Bonds. It's not often that I recommend any reading (in fact, there are only two other stories on Wattpad that I love besides that one, which is saying how picky I am). Plus she's a really sweet person. :)