As much as I would like to take credit for the poem Samuel reads to Delia in this story, I can't. It's "The Progress of Love" by the English poet Robert Dodsley (1703-64).

What a miserable day, thought Delia Ketchum as she glanced out the window. It was one of those dreary November afternoons: cold, damp, overcast, and now a steady rain was starting to fall.

Good thing I'm in here and not out there, she sighed as she sipped her hot tea and warmed herself in front of the fire that was crackling in the fireplace. As she sank down on the sofa ready to curl up with a good book, she was startled by a knock at the door.

Now who in the world could that be, she wondered. Ash wasn't due home for another couple of hours.

As she opened the door, she was surprised to see a drenched Professor Oak standing on her front porch.

"I'm so sorry to inconvenience you, Mrs. Ketchum," he said apologetically. "I was riding past your house on my bike when the rain started and was wondering if you'd let me stay here for a few minutes until the storm passes."

"Of course," she said as he stepped inside and stood dripping on her floor. "What in the world were you doing outside on a day like today?"

"I was on my way back from Viridian City. Nurse Joy wanted some of the fever elixir I've concocted for a sick Nidoran, so I thought I'd ride over and take it to her. I didn't plan on the rain, however."

"You're shivering," Delia noticed. "Go down the hall to the bathroom and take those wet clothes off this instant. You'll catch your death of cold."

"Oh, that's not necessary, Mrs. Ketchum." He didn't want to put her out any more than he already had. "I'll be fine."

At that unfortunate moment, he sneezed.

"That's it." Delia grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the bathroom. "Clothes off, now. I'll bring you some towels to dry off with."

By the time he had opened his mouth to protest, she had already shoved him into the bathroom.

"Leave your wet things in a pile on the floor," she ordered as she shut the door. "I'll toss them in the dryer."

Meekly, he did as he was told, but stopped when got down to his underwear.

Surely she didn't mean underwear too, did she? No, of course not. Surely not.

He was pondering what to do next when the door slammed open and in barged Delia carrying an armful of towels.

"Yahh! Mrs. Ketchum!" Professor Oak yelped and jumped behind the shower curtain.

"When I said clothes off, I meant everything, Professor," she said as she put the towels down on the countertop and picked up his wet clothes. "That includes underwear, too."

He stood there staring at her. Was she going to just stand there and watch until he had complied with her request?

"Professor Oak," she said wearily. "I've been married before and I have a son. I've seen it all before."

Yes, but she had never seen what he had before.

"Uh, Mrs. Ketchum, why don't you wait outside and I'll hand them to you?" This situation was embarrassing enough as it was.

"Fine," she said as she closed the bathroom door and stood outside. A moment later the door opened a fraction and he handed her his underwear. Delia stifled a laugh when she saw the boxer shorts with the large red polka dots.

Behind the door, Professor Oak cringed. Why on all days had he chosen today to wear those?

"Dry yourself off, Professor," Delia said, biting her lip in an attempt not to burst out laughing. "I'll see if I can find you something dry to wear."

As soon as she left, he immediately locked the bathroom door. He wasn't going to have a repeat of what happened before.

A few minutes later, Delia knocked at the door. He opened it a fraction and peeked out.

"Your clothes are in the dryer," she informed him. "I had a hard time trying to find something that would fit you, but here are two choices. Number one," she held up a white robe with pink frills, "if you don't mind the frills. And number two," she held up a white t-shirt and blue sweat pants. "I wore these when I was pregnant with Ash."

No choice there. He pointed to the second outfit.

"That's what I thought. Pink isn't really your color, anyway." She handed him the clothes. "Finish getting dressed and have a seat on the couch when you're done."

---

"Those fit you well, Professor," she commented when he came out of the bathroom. As he sat on the couch, she handed him a cup of hot tea. "Drink that."

"Thank you again for your hospitality, Mrs. Ketchum," he said as he sipped the tea. "I'm sorry to have to put you out like this."

"No problem, Professor. Would you like some hot soup?"

"That would be splendid. Thank you." As she went into the kitchen, he settled back on the couch.

I could get used to this, he thought as he sighed contentedly.

This was the life: it was freezing cold outside (by now it was starting to sleet), but here he was curled up on the sofa in front of a roaring fire in the cozy little house; soft music in the background; Mrs. Ketchum fussing over him, feeding him hot tea and soup. He yawned and stretched out on the couch.

A few minutes later, Delia appeared. "Here's your soup. It's still hot, so be care…" She stopped in mid-sentence; Professor Oak was asleep on the couch, snoring softly.

How cute, she smiled as she put the bowl of soup down. Quietly, so as not to wake him, she unfolded the quilt that lay on top of the couch and covered him with it.

---

What a nice nap, Professor Oak thought as he awoke. He was surprised to see that someone had covered him with a blanket while he was sleeping.

Wasn't that nice of her, he smiled as he yawned and stretched. He rubbed his eyes and glanced at the clock on the mantle. It read four-thirty.

Four-thirty? Then that means that I've been asleep for…nearly two hours!

Professor Oak kicked off the quilt and sat up. He hadn't even meant to fall asleep in the first place, it was just that he was so nice and cozy lying there and he had meant to close his eyes for just a second.

Delia entered the room with a bowl of soup. "Hello, Professor Oak," she said cheerfully. "Did you have a nice nap?"

"I..uh..," he stammered, embarrassed at having fallen asleep on her sofa.

"You looked so comfortable lying there that I hated to wake you," she smiled. "Would you like some soup now?"

"Oh, no thank you," he said hurriedly. "I have to get back to the lab. I wasn't planning on staying this long. I've already taken up more than enough of your time today."

"Oh, it's no bother at all, Professor. Why don't you eat some soup while I go get your clothes out of…"

She stopped and gave him a funny look. "Professor Oak, are you feeling all right? You look a little flushed to me."

Now that she mentioned it, he did feel a bit warm. "Oh, it's probably just from lying under the blanket."

She leaned over and felt his forehead. "Professor Oak, you're burning up!" she exclaimed. "I'll go get the thermometer."

"Now we'll see if you have a fever or not," she said as she came back downstairs with the digital thermometer. "Open your mouth."

"Mrs. Ketchum, I…mmph." She shoved the thermometer in his mouth while he was still speaking.

"Now keep your mouth closed. No talking."

"Mrs. Ketchum…"

"I said 'no talking'!" She gave him a look that said that she wasn't kidding, so he sat still until the thermometer beeped. Delia's eyes opened wide as she read it.

"Oh my, one hundred one! You're definitely sick, Professor. Go upstairs to Ash's room and lie down, and I'll be up in a couple of minutes."

"Mrs. Ketchum, I appreciate your kindness, but I think I really do need to head back to my place. I've already been enough of a burden to you today as it is." As he stood up and started for the front door, she blocked his path.

"You're not going anywhere, especially not out in the cold and sleet with a one-hundred-and-one-degree fever. The only place you're going is upstairs to bed. Now march." She pointed to the stairs.

He knew it was pointless to argue with her, so he accepted defeat and went upstairs to Ash's room.

---

He was lying on Ash's bed reading a book when Delia entered the room carrying an armful of bottles, medicines, and various other items.

"What are you reading, Professor Oak?"

He quickly hid the book under the sheets. "Uh, nothing." His face turned red.

"Let me see." He reluctantly handed the book to her.

"The Valley of the Voltorbs? I didn't know you liked children's novels," she said with amusement.

"Well, the author does seem to have a lot of knowledge about Pokémon in their natural state and habitat. And besides," he said with a sheepish grin, "it's a pretty exciting story."

She handed the book back to him. "I think Ash has all of the novels in the Pokémon Journeys series. Remind me to ask him to let you borrow them sometime. Now then, let's take care of you." She sat down on the edge of the bed and handed him a couple of aspirin. "First, let's get that fever down."

He swallowed the pills, wincing a little.

"Is your throat sore? Let me take a look." Delia found a flashlight in the pile of bottles that she had dumped on the table next to the bed. "Open wide." She peered down his throat. "It's a little red, nothing too bad. Now take your shirt off."

"What?" he said, taken aback at her request.

"You're congested, so you need some vapor rub. Now will you take that shirt off or do I have to do that for you?"

While the prospect of her taking off his shirt was an interesting one, he decided to do it himself.

"This will fix you right up," she said, unscrewing the lid of the jar of vapor cream. "You know, you can't be too careful. You could easily get pneumonia riding around in the rain and cold like that."

At that unfortunate moment, he coughed.

"See? I hope it's not too late already." To his surprise, she leaned over and rested her ear against his chest.

"Now take a deep breath."

Well, this is nice, he thought as he inhaled. Maybe being sick wasn't so bad after all.

"Now breathe out."

As he exhaled, he slowly lowered his chin so that it ended up resting on top of her head. Her hair was so soft.

Very nice indeed.

"Well, everything sounds okay in there," she said as she sat up. "But your heart's beating a bit fast."

With a twinge of guilt, Professor Oak realized that he had been enjoying the examination probably more than he should have been. "Oh, I…I wouldn't worry about that, Mrs. Ketchum. It's just a normal physiologic response to fever." And to having a pretty woman lying atop your bare chest.

"Well, no matter. This should help things." She started massaging the vapor cream on his chest with slow, smooth strokes.

Professor Oak leaned back on the pillow and closed his eyes. This alone had been worth getting sick for.

"Now, do you need anything else? Professor Oak?" He was lying there with contented grin on his face.

He quickly opened his eyes. "Uh, no. I think I'm feeling much better now."

Much, much better now.

"Okay, then you lie down and rest for a while. I'll check on you later."

After she left, he picked up the book he was reading but found out that he couldn't think of anything else but those soft hands of hers caressing him.

---

Delia was on the phone when she heard the door slam.

"Yes, that's right. I'll send him right over tomorrow. Good-bye."

"Hi, Mom," Ash said as he bounded up the stairs. A minute later he came back down with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Why is Professor Oak asleep in my bed?"

"The poor man was out riding his bicycle and got caught in the rain. Now he's sick and it's up to us to take care of him."

"Why?"

"Because he doesn't have anyone else to take care of him and he got sick at our house, that's why."

"Is he going to stay here all night?"

"He's going to stay here as long as it takes for him to get well."

"But where am I going to sleep?" Ash whined.

"Well, you certainly can't sleep on the other bunk in your room because Professor Oak needs some peace and quiet. You can sleep downstairs here on the couch. And you'd better get a good night's sleep because you're going to be busy tomorrow."

"Huh?"

"I just got off the phone with the lab, and you're going to be going over there tomorrow to help take care of the Pokémon while Professor Oak is sick. Since tomorrow's Saturday, he won't have any researchers or students around to help out. So I volunteered you."

"You did what?!" Ash stared at her in disbelief.

"No back talk, young man. Professor Oak has done a lot to help to with your Pokémon training, so the least you can do is help him out this once."

Ash didn't mind helping out Professor Oak, but he did mind being forced to do it.

"But Mom…."

"Get your friends to help you. I'm sure Misty and Brock would like to give you a hand with the Pokémon at the lab."

"Oh, all right," Ash grumbled.

---

When Delia checked on him again Professor Oak was sitting up in bed, engrossed in The Valley of the Voltorbs.

'As the menacing Rhydon drew closer, roaring savagely, the Voltorb hissed and crackled, building up a powerful electrical charge…' That's not going to work, Professor Oak thought, shaking his head. Electric attacks are ineffective against ground and rock-type Pokémon.

"Professor?"

He jumped, startled. He had been so caught up in his book that he didn't notice that Delia had come into the room and was standing next to the bed.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to see if you'd like some soup." She placed the tray she was carrying on his lap.

"Now open wide," Delia said as she offered him a spoonful.

He was about to tell her that he wasn't so sick that he couldn't feed himself, but stopped. It was rather nice having someone worry about him again: taking his temperature, fussing over him, feeding him soup.

I could definitely get used to this, he sighed as she spoon-fed him the hot soup.

Delia also had to admit that she enjoyed having someone to take care of again. Since Ash was gone so often on his Pokémon training journeys, she was rather lonely. Having Mimie around helped, but there were times when she would rather have another person around to talk to. Professor Oak was a good friend; he sometimes stopped by her house just to talk or let her know how Ash was doing. She often wondered if he was as lonely as she was.

"Delicious soup, Mrs. Ketchum. You're an excellent cook," he said as he finished the last spoonful.

"Well, thanks, Professor. Chicken soup was always Ash's favorite. Do you need anything else? More vapor cream?"

Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!

…No, stop it, Samuel. You're taking advantage of Mrs. Ketchum's kindness.

Oh, come on. Don't you want her to touch you again?

…Yes, but not under false pretenses. I don't really need the medicine.

You know you want her to.

…Well, yes, but…

She has such nice, soft hands, doesn't she?

He had been fighting a growing attraction to her for months. The problem was that he wasn't sure she felt the same way about him the way he did about her.

Ignoring the voice of temptation in his head, he politely declined. "No thank you, Mrs. Ketchum. I think I'm fine for now."

…Well, you just blew that chance. Nice move, Romeo.

"Well, let me know if you need anything else. I'll check on you again before I go to bed. Here's your book back," she said, handing him back The Valley of the Voltorbs. "I'll let you get back to your story."

Now where was I, he wondered as he flipped through the pages of the book.

She had done it to him again. The thought of having her touch him again had made him so flustered that he couldn't remember what page he had stopped on.

---

Just before she went to bed, Delia decided to check on Professor Oak one more time to see if he needed anything. She opened the door a crack and peeked in. He was lying on his back with one arm flung across his chest. Under his arm was a book. Curious, Delia quietly tiptoed over to the bed and looked at the title. The Forest of the Farfetch'd. He had already finished the first book and was halfway through the second one.

Smiling, she made a mental note to buy Professor Oak the next book in the Pokémon Journeys series. Then being careful not to disturb him, she gently felt his forehead. The medicine had worked; his fever was down. Satisfied, Delia turned and started to leave.

"Delia…"

Oh no, I woke him up, Delia thought. She turned around to apologize to Professor Oak, but his eyes were still closed.

That's odd.

"Delia…" Professor Oak murmured again.

He's talking in his sleep, she realized. And he's dreaming about me.

Intrigued, Delia stood over the bed waiting to see if Professor Oak would say anything else.

She didn't have to wait long.

"Delia…you're…so sweet."

Awww, isn't that nice of him to say that, Delia thought as she leaned over the bed.

"I think you're pretty sweet yourself, Professor," she whispered in his ear.

Silently, she tiptoed across the room and shut the door.

Even though he was still asleep, Professor Oak smiled.