In this fic, I've explored a lot of Jessie and James' respective intimacy issues and struggle to navigate their new relationship. Also, they join the mile-high club. This fic is set in the same alternate canon as "Cinque, Diece, Venti" and "Bases Loaded" - basically, Jessie and James started a friends-with-benefits relationship sometime in Kalos, with the unspoken understanding that there are some feelings on each side, but haven't yet discussed exactly what they mean to one another.

Please read and review! Thank you so much to MadiYasha for editing the first bit of this, particularly the Meowth dialogue.

From his window seat, James watches the sky shift from watercolor sunset to dusky twilight to inky night. Safely ensconced aboard a commercial jet, he's suspended among the drifting clouds, high above the ocean between Alola and Kanto.

Most of the other passengers have drifted off and are now snoring quietly, heads lolling against windows or onto the shoulders of their seatmates. A few, like the twerp's teacher, leaf through paperbacks or magazines by reading lights. Indeed, nearly every traveler seems to have surrendered to the solemn stillness. Everyone, that is, but James' teammates, whose whispered quarrel has just crescendoed to a terse and very audible argument.

"You seem to have forgotten that I'm the leader of this team!" comes Jessie's voice, dripping acid. "So I'll be presenting our progress report to the boss."

James' cheek is pressed against the small window, eyes squeezed shut in a dogged attempt to ignore his teammates, but he can almost see Meowth roll his eyes. "If anyone's presentin' anyt'ing t' da boss, it'll be me," the cat pokémon counters. "When he sees dis crystal on my wrist, he'll know dat I call da shots now!"

Jessie and Meowth have been at it like a seviper and a zangoose almost since the moment the team boarded the flight from Hao'oli to Viridian. First Meowth was sitting too close to Jessie, then Jessie was chewing the ice in her drink so loudly that Meowth couldn't get to sleep. James had given up trying to play referee nearly an hour ago, after the book of sudoku puzzles Jessie had swiped from a newsstand had failed to distract him from his teammates' ceaseless bickering. Since then, he's drifted in and out of daydreams, hat pulled low over his face to maintain a semblance of seclusion.

He wishes that Wobbuffet were here. The blue pokémon's perpetually cheerful countenance is a natural foil to Jessie's fiery rages. But thanks to both absurdly high ticket prices and his partner's recent shopping spree, they had only been able to afford three seats in coach, so Wobbuffet remains enclosed in his pokeball.

He sighs quietly, curling tighter against the wall and away from the argument. Shivering slightly in the overly air-conditioned plane, he's warmed by a favorite daydream of Jessie, bloodred hair riotous against black satin, one arm draped elegantly across a bare hip, indigo eyes beckoning. No, not a daydream, he reminds himself. A memory. The Jessie in his memory has just kissed him against a brilliant Kalosian sunset, and now, her eyes full of unspeakable passion, will make wordless love to him until the ache of losing the Kalos crown is eclipsed by crystalline pleasure. In his vision, her lips arch into a smile, then part –

"If you hadn't squandered your potential on learning human speech, maybe we'd be able to actually use the crystal!" Back to reality. The subject of his fantasies is far more ferocious and, somehow, twice as breathtaking. But he can't waste time admiring her now, not while Meowth's claws shimmer dangerously and the passenger in front of them glares in exasperation and Jessie's voice rises ever higher in pitch and volume.

"Well if you wasn't such a lousy trainer –"

Jessie lunges, but James is quicker. Shaking off his dreamy haze, he slings a desperate arm across the seat to separate his teammates. "H-hey, hey now," he says, eyes darting between them. "Maybe I should sit in the middle for awhile?"

Meowth scowls darkly and Jessie vibrates with suppressed rage, but then they both slump, resigned, and James unbuckles his seatbelt and switches places with his friend. Reaching into his pocket with trembling fingers, he produces a packet of bubblegum and unwraps two squares.

"Want one?" he asks Jessie. In lieu of an answer, she fixes him with a disdainful expression, so he turns and offers the sweet to Meowth instead.

"Nah, Jimmy, I t'ink I'll try ta get some sleep," the cat pokémon grumbles. "Have fun tryin' ta deal wit' dat," he continues, voice lowered conspiratorially.

James winces. Jessie has been high-strung and irritable since they received the summons from headquarters, and has cagily evaded every one of his attempts to coax her into conversation. Instead, she's taken refuge in both furious tirades and bruising kisses. "I'll certainly do my best," he says, and a curious smile creeps onto his friend's face.

"Bet I know one way you could cheer her up," Meowth says, whiskers gleaming even in the dim light. James can only cough, startled, but his friend chuckles and curls into a ball in his seat. If it weren't for the orange Alolan shirt, James might have mistaken him for an ordinary meowth. "Night, Jimmy."

Suffused with hot mortification, James turns to his right to find his partner haranguing a stewardess. "What do you mean there's a two-drink limit in coach?"

The stewardess licks her lips before responding, and James cringes. Jessie, he muses, is like a magnet: her unrepentant passion is by turns terrifying and captivating. He finds himself hopelessly attracted to the very traits which repel others, and wishes that he could tell her so without dealing yet another blow to her already fragile heart.

Jessie's death grip on the tray table signals an imminent tirade, so James chances a second intervention. "I haven't ordered a drink yet, though. I think I'd like one, please," he says, attempting a charming smile.

It does the trick; Jessie twists to face him, an unreadable expression on her lovely face, while the stewardess nods in apparent relief. "Of course, sir. What can I bring you?"

James focuses on his partner's face as he answers. "Gin and tonic, please, extra lime." Jessie's lips purse in amused gratitude, and James can't help beaming at her.

She twists around once more to address the stewardess, her voice lighter now. "And we'd like a blanket, too." Pausing, she glances meaningfully at James, and he feels heat rise in his cheeks. "My partner is cold," Jessie adds, almost affectionately.

The stewardess nods and retreats, leaving them alone with their thoughts and with one another. James is desperate to engage Jessie in conversation, but something steals his voice. The word partner swirls around his brain, fraught with hopeless implications. Nearly ten years ago, fate made them friends, and five years later, coincidence made them partners. Now, lingering magnetic energy has made them lovers. But while Jessie is ardent, even forceful, with her physical affections, she still balks at the prospect of emotional intimacy.

He loves her. The only constant in his life swells in his chest, as simple as a summer's day and as constant as the constellations.

"You'll get wrinkles if you keep frowning that way, you know," Jessie interrupts, and he's startled out of another reverie. She's shifted in her seat to face him completely, one high cheekbone resting on the seatback, sharp eyes scrutinizing his profile.

He turns to face her. "You're the beautiful one, dear." A grin spreads across her face, and he returns it in kind. Glancing down at his lap, he fumbles with the unwrapped gum. "Sure you don't want one?" he offers again.

"That's such a childish habit, James," Jessie declines, shaking her head, but there's no malice in her tone. James shrugs and pops both pieces into his mouth, teeth sinking into the sugary pink candy.

By degrees, Jessie allows herself to relax into the seat, mood buoyed by both her partner's guileless green eyes and the warmth of the gin fizzing through her system. But as a wave of turbulence hits, she's consumed by the same creeping anxiety she's been wrestling with since her team was summoned for an audience with the boss.

The demons she'd buried so deeply in her youth had haunted her shadow in Kalos, but Alolan sunshine had banished even her most persistent ghosts. She should have anticipated that the journey to Kanto would reawaken shades of the same paralyzing uncertainty. The prospect of explaining away her failures as a member of an organization she's begun to care little and less about worries her, as it always has, but this time there's something more. Something she dreads, something she doesn't dare confront. She bites the inside of her cheek, momentarily shutting her eyes against the devotion in the face before her.

Jessie's expression changes only minutely, but James doesn't miss the panic that flickers across her face. He wants to ask her to confide in him, but he knows that acknowledging her vulnerability will only cause her to recoil. Instead, he catches her hand in his, stroking her trembling fingers.

"I'm here, Jess." His words are quiet, and Jessie's first instinct is a nasty retort. But something loosens within her, then, and she clings to his hand to keep from burying her face in his chest.

The darkness recedes, and she draws a quavering breath. James is awake and alive and by her side, and his eyes brim dangerously with adoration. Another breath, and the familiar scent of rosemary and sodapop fills her lungs. She almost manages a smile.

But a sneering voice inside, the one that made its home in her heart when she was only a child, won't leave her alone. He doesn't love you. No one ever could. All at once, she's back on that lonely parapet, swaying in the shadow's thrall.

"Jess!" James's voice is a fervent shout, jolting her back into the world. The passenger in front of them startles, and turns to glare at them again. "Jess," James says again, this time in a whisper. His eyes glimmer even brighter now, and she almost recoils in disgust and shame. "Won't you please tell me what's bothering you? I want to help, please, I just don't know how. Please, show me how."

He would crawl across scorching coals for the desperate chance to make her smile. Jessie feels a hollow thrill at her own power over him, and flicks her eyes mockingly upwards. "Why, nothing at all, dear," she answers, attempting an air of flippant tartness, but the words are tainted with uncertainty.

"Jess," James says a third time, gravely serious. He isn't fooled, not even a bit. The facade is crumbling down about her, but it isn't nearly as agonizing as she once imagined. Jessie rolls her eyes again, wishing she could toss her tied-up hair.

"It's just that bitch Matori," she spits, her flaring passions finally sparking to life. That was good, she reasons, and it isn't even a lie. "When I get to headquarters, she'll pay," she vows theatrically, and James' nose crinkles in amusement.

"Of course she will, sweetheart." Jessie's stubborn disdain for Matori isn't truly what's on her mind, but her blue eyes shine with enthusiastic fervor for the first time in days, and James exhales in shaky relief.

"You were so worried about me, weren't you?" she taunts, and he nods, beaming. Jessie smirks triumphantly, the delcatty who's got the cream, then suddenly turns serious. "What the hell do they want this time, anyway?"

"I don't know," he admits. "But whatever it is, you'll handle it. You always do."

"I always do," she echoes softly, a bit of the old ridiculous vanity in her voice. Just like that, the world shimmers with rosy possibility once again. How does he always know just what to say? She's dizzy with joy, and it's not just the gin. Somehow, the fondness in his green gaze dispels the momentary agony of exposing her fragile telltale heart.

"Will youse two stop yappin'? I'm tryin' ta sleep!" Meowth scowls sidelong at the pair, shattering their reverie.

"Sorry, sorry," James hurries, twisting in his seat to meet his friend's eyes, hands still clasping Jessie's.

For her part, Jessie is silent, pursing her lips and fixing the cat pokémon with a poisonous glare. She and her partner haven't been speaking loudly enough to wake him; on the contrary, they've both been careful to keep their intimate exchange muted. Meowth has been spying on them, she realizes, embarrassment and fury prickling at her skin.

"Eavesdrop much?" she finally says through gritted teeth.

"Don't flatter yaself," the cat pokémon scoffs. "I've gotten used ta pretendin' ta sleep around youse two, anyways –"

"Meowth," Jessie growls, feeling her cheeks blaze. Between them, James lets out a startled squeak.

"Awright, awright," Meowth begins. "What I'm tryin' ta say is… Jimmy's right, Jess. None of us woulda made it dis far wit'out you pushin' an' demandin' every step of da way." He heaves a sigh. "I guess… I didn't mean any 'a dose nasty tings I said earliah."

"You're apologizing?"

"Well, ya know what dey say. Never go ta bed angry, an' all."

Jessie's mouth twists in amusement. "That's for marriage, Meowth, not for - well." Does James stifle a gasp at the sound of the word marriage, or has she imagined it? Her heart jumps in her chest, just once. "I suppose you haven't been entirely useless in Alola, either." This is as near to an apology as Meowth is going to get, and all three know it.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't get mushy on me, now." He curls up and closes his eyes again, the tip of his tail swishing lazily.

The stewardess returns with the blanket and the drink, and Jessie thanks her sincerely, with none of her usual charming condescension. As soon as the woman's back is turned, James passes the cocktail to Jessie, and she sips it gratefully while returning his conspiratorial smile. He's so damn adorable, she thinks, tucking the blanket around him and tracing his flushed cheek with a lazy fingertip before pulling away.

"I – I wasn't that cold, you know," James says, sounding a bit breathless.

"You're always cold, rich boy," Jessie teases. "Not like me. I'd be at home even in a blizzard." To emphasize her point, she shrugs her cardigan off elegant shoulders, crushing an ice cube between her teeth and remembering icy crystals melting on her tongue.

James hums sympathetically, then leans close, his head beginning to droop onto her shoulder. "May I?" he asks.

Jessie smirks, a curious warmth spreading through her. "Oh, all right." James can't suppress a little squeal of joy, and Jessie rolls her eyes as he enthusiastically cuddles close.

She and her partner are hardly strangers to physical affection. After sharing a twin bed at Pokémon Tech, an air mattress during their disastrous year in a bicycle gang, and even a sleeping bag on especially chilly nights, they've grown accustomed to curling up together for warmth or for comfort. And while dressing the two of them in dozens of disguises – layers of scarlet petticoats, a slick leather jacket, an ivory silk bridal trousseau – Jessie has learned the curves and contours of her partner's body as well as she knows her own. But when she feels his breath warm on her skin, his lips moments from her neck, she realizes that his intentions are far from innocent.

Drawing a shaky breath, she sips at her drink, the floral taste of gin intermingled with sharp lime. James is nuzzling at her neck like some sycophantic slut, the tip of his nose stroking up and down her skin and driving her absolutely mad. She's momentarily paralyzed, her heartbeat stuttering into acceleration, warmth coursing through her veins and threatening to consume her.

"Jessie." Oh, fuck, he's whispering her name in that velvet voice of his, and the heat is pooling between her thighs now.

Is he trying to seduce me? No, no, he wouldn't dare, she tells herself, nibbling frantically at her straw. Despite her most carefully constructed walls, she's forced to admit that she wants him with an intensity that frightens her. How novel that he should return her desire in even greater measure. Not that she's become overly attached, of course! It's just an overwhelming fondness that morphs so effortlessly into scorching passion. Just a secret creature comfort. No matter how many unseen heartbreaks he suffers on the other end.

She should shove him away, should scold him for his presumption. She doesn't.

After all, the sight of her partner shivering with cold wasn't the only reason she had asked for a blanket. No, she craves this closeness, this precarious and delicious game. Besides, dominating him so thoroughly always provides a welcome distraction to her dark moods. James sighs against her neck, and Jessie feels a smile snake across her face. Might as well give him what he wants, she reasons, swallowing the last of her fizzy drink as her heart thuds in her chest. What we both want.

She starts slow, inching one hand under the thin blanket to grasp his bare knee. James responds so beautifully, his entire body jerking against her. Encouraged, she slides her fingers up past the hem of his shorts, stroking his trembling thigh through the fabric. He whines quietly against her neck, and she squeezes his leg while pressing a kiss into lavender hair.

"Oh, oh," he whimpers softly, and her core pulses in response.

"Oh," she echoes, her hand brushing against a very sizable erection. Jessie hadn't expected James to react so strongly to a few tentative touches. But there's the evidence of his arousal, twitching against her fingertips as its owner practically sobs into her hair. She traces the outline of the cock through his shorts, once and then twice, her caresses more determined the second time, pleased to feel it twitch again and grow impossibly larger. Her own core is soaked, pulsing insistently now, and she trembles, imagining in an instant everything she could do to the man shaking beside her.

Even through his layers of clothing, James' erection throbs against the warm pressure of her palm, his hips rutting desperately into her touch in the same rhythm as his breathy gasps against her neck. Inhaling the cloyingly sweet scent of bubblegum, Jessie starts a lazy pattern, groping up his shaft to swirl her fingertips across the head of his penis, then down again to give his balls a gentle squeeze. She turns slightly to look at her partner, taking in the sight of his trembling frame, the slender column of his throat, the tapered curve of his jaw, his flushed cheekbones, his lips...

His lips are positively delectable. Jessie allows herself another private smile as she envisions how pretty they'll look smeared with her lipstick. She wants to kiss that rosebud mouth until it's bruised and breathless, wants to mark those slim hips with her nails and teeth.

She wants to use him so thoroughly that he'll never be able to imagine leaving her side, wants to remind him over and over again that he belongs to her alone. She wants his delicate hands all over her, his cock deep inside her –

Heart in her throat, Jessie undoes James' shorts with practiced fingers, the metal teeth of his zipper opening one by one. And there's the swollen head of his cock, peeking out of the elastic waistband of his underwear so boldly that she almost giggles in delight. She rolls the cockhead lightly between her thumb and forefinger for a moment, marveling at the softness of his skin, then roughly grasps his shaft.

"Ah!"

And James moans. His needy cry echoes throughout the cabin, and Jessie releases her grip on his cock. She's rewarded with a smaller, disappointed-sounding moan, and she shudders in perverse pleasure. The passengers are utterly, terrifyingly still for a beat, and then a shriek of laughter rings out, followed by a chorus of feminine giggles – the twerpettes, she realizes through a haze of tipsy embarrassment. Enflamed by maddening arousal, she rises from her seat and stalks down the center aisle towards the small lavatory.

He'll get the hint. If he knows what's good for him.

Barely conscious of the hum of scandalized conversation beginning all around him, James stares dully at the blanket barely concealing his rapidly-softening cock. In a matter of moments, everything has gone dreadfully wrong, and he's entirely to blame.

The gum has turned to sour ash in his mouth, and he spits it into the empty cup on Jessie's tray table, feeling a familiar lead weight beginning to settle in his abdomen. Wavy lines shimmer at the edges of his vision, and he drops his head into his hands, counting his breaths to keep the hysteria at bay. In, two, three, four, out, two, three, four. He's still shuddering uncontrollably, he realizes miserably, but it's from panic rather than pleasure.

He's never been able to control himself when it comes to her. This is an unavoidable truth; he was smitten at sixteen the second he caught sight of her scarlet hair rippling over the collar of her uniform blazer. With her intoxicating scent surrounding him – heady jasmine perfume and an acrid hint of the cigarettes she fails to hide from him – he had allowed his lecherous urges to mar a rare moment of emotional intimacy.

Now Jessie is probably furious, and rightfully so. Even after watching her tear herself apart with worry over their journey to Kanto, he had returned her affection by slobbering all over her neck and pitching a tent in his shorts. She deserves so much more than this, than him –

"Everything all right?"

James' head snaps to see the stewardess standing next to his row, concern on her pretty heart-shaped face. He crosses one leg over the other, hoping that she won't notice his shameful predicament.

"Y-yes, thanks for checking on us, there's just been a minor mishap, nothing to fret about." Oh dear, he's babbling, and his voice sounds like that of a child who hasn't quite finished crying.

The flight attendant makes a neutral hum of concern. "I'm glad. I was a little worried when I saw your girlfriend rush off so suddenly."

James chokes on his breath. There's a rustle to his left, like fabric against fur, and then a sly snicker, but the flight attendant appears not to notice. "Just let me know if the two of you need anything else." She smiles politely once more, then walks towards the front of the cabin. James remains rooted to the spot, head reeling.

The word fiancée is still suffused with shadowy nightmares of blooming belladonna and ivory hands at his throat, and the word wife is a pantomime of a marionette in a navy suit, a witch in white taffeta pulling his strings. Partner evokes a steady simplicity, filled with memories of furtive glances across firelight and clever rhymes recited back-to-back.

But girlfriend is altogether unfamiliar. The word is both terrifying and thrilling, and James bites his lip to keep from testing it on his tongue.

Girlfriend might be a rowboat navigating uncharted seas, a word of whispered ardor at sunrise and a secret kiss at sunset and a clandestine tango by moonlight.

Is Jessie my girlfriend?

"Girlfriend? That'll be the day." Meowth answers his unspoken question for him, and James whips around, irritation needling at his skin.

"Shut up, Meowth," he bursts out, knowing that his cheeks have gone as red as Jessie's hair. Meowth regards him cooly, flicking his tail from side to side. The cat pokémon's good-natured barb strikes at the heart of his insecurities, but his silence is even more unsettling.

James sighs, not quite ready to surrender to the wave of contrition rising in his chest. "I'm just worried about Jess, is all. I-I messed up and made her angry, and she's been gone for nearly ten minutes now." He swallows, nervous tremors still running through his limbs. "I hope she's all right."

Meowth smirks at him, eyes gleaming in merriment. James briefly wonders if his friend witnessed their little display of indiscretion, then decides that he doesn't much care. "Dere's only one way to find dat out," the cat pokémon tells him. "Go check on her. It'll get youse two outta my fur, at least. What's a cat gotta do to catch foahty winks around heah?"

James smiles at his friend. "I think I'll do that."

Hastily zipping his shorts, he rises from his seat to stumble down the narrow aisle towards Jessie, apprehension rising in his chest.

The glowing sign on the lavatory door reads "occupied," so James raises a hesitant fist to rap against it, three times in quick succession. "Jess?" he ventures. There is no response. "I'm so, so sorry –"

Suddenly, the door swings halfway open. A well-manicured hand grabs him by the collar, yanking him inside and swiftly locking the door again. James finds himself slammed up against the wall adjacent to the small sink, blinking against the harsh fluorescent light.

He fumbles for the right words, but then he catches sight of his partner and all is lost.

"Oh," he breathes.

Perhaps Jessie isn't angry at all.

Silhouetted against the blue-toned light inside the tiny room, she stands before him adorned in nothing but a pale pink bra with panties to match, her remaining clothing crumpled at her feet. With her hair swirling about her shoulders and the interplay of light and shadows falling across every curve, Jessie is positively ethereal. She regards him through half-lidded eyes, the crimson bow of her mouth curving upwards. Under the scent of her jasmine perfume, James can smell feminine arousal.

She's been waiting for him. Jessie, his goddess, is so overcome with desire for him that she's been touching herself in a filthy airplane bathroom. Every tempting inch of her skin is within his reach, and James yearns to touch and taste until he's finished the job for her.

"Jess," he sighs rapturously, staring at the pink silk lingerie accentuating her full breasts and hips. "That's lovely; where'd you find it?"

Jessie takes a single step forward, hooking her thumb under the waistband of his shorts to massage his hipbone. "The Hao'oli Mall, the day Mimikyu and I landed there," she says. With her other hand, she pulls at one silk strap until it slips off her shoulder, exposing a rosy areola.

So that's what happened to the activity funds...

"If you're good, I'll let you wear it for me sometime," Jessie continues. She teases her nipple with a fingertip, tugging the fabric to one side to show him the pebbled stiffness.

His cock throbs eagerly at the thought, and he groans softly, too embarrassed to respond.

"Now. How would you like to join a very exclusive club?"

"Jess, I love you, but –" James cuts himself off as panic flashes across Jessie's face. He takes a deep breath, then continues, "– but this is the worst idea you've ever had."

Jessie glances at the ground, her hands falling to her sides. When she looks at him again, her eyes shine with renewed fierceness. "Don't act so shocked. You started it, after all," she counters. She takes another half step forward, and then they're pressed together, so close that he can feel her heartbeat.

"Me?" he squeaks, feeling heat rise in his face. "You asked for the blanket, dearest, I just –"

"Shut up," Jessie snarls, then captures his lips in a savage kiss. Gin and desire make her clumsy, and James nearly giggles as her pointy nose bumps against his long one. Undeterred, she takes hold of his hips and pulls his pelvis flush against her own, grinding into him as her lips work furiously against his.

"I'm pretty sure this is – ah! – illegal," he pants, pulling away to catch his breath.

Jessie smirks. "We're criminals, James," she answers, then gives him another heated kiss. Her lips are soft and pliant this time, waxy lipstick smearing over both of their hot mouths. James sucks her lower lip gently into his mouth as he tangles one hand in her hair, and that makes her moan.

She breaks their second kiss to flash him a smile, rocking her hips against his. "You do want this," she says, acquiring a dangerously sultry tone. "You want me so badly, and everyone can see it." She slides her pelvis up and down the length of his clothed cock, so close that he can feel her heat. "You're blushing, panting, practically drooling all over yourself, and oh." Her pitch dips wickedly on the last word, just as she shoves a clever hand down his shorts to meet his throbbing erection.

"Baby, you're already dripping for me," she purrs, using the hot slick leaking from his cock to tease the sensitive head. James can't help thrusting blindly towards her, and she giggles, cruelly withdrawing her hand. Bringing her fingers to her mouth, she swipes one fingertip across her full lower lip. When her tongue darts to lick up the glistening precum, he's certain that he'll expire on the spot. "You just can't help it, can you," she taunts, and James quakes against her, unable to suppress a loud moan.

"Keep it down, they'll hear," he says, more to himself than to Jessie. His partner only laughs, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it from his body with practiced ease.

"But that's what you want, isn't it?" she asks, pulling his face down to hers with a hand at the back of his neck. Right against his lips, she whispers, "You want everyone to hear you fuck me while you moan like a whore."

James is sure he'll scream aloud, but Jessie is quicker. She kisses him a third time, stifling his needy whines with a swirl of her hot tongue. There's no chance of turning back, not now, not when she's already debauched and debased him so thoroughly. His partner is going to use him in whatever way she pleases in this tiny airplane bathroom, and he'll fuck her like the obedient toy he is, consequences be damned. Struggling out of his shorts and underwear, he lifts one of Jessie's legs to help her straddle him. He tugs her panties to the side, and –

"Not yet!" Jessie hisses, pushing him off her. More gently, she guides his hand to her hip. "You're going to give me some attention first," she tells him, and he grins, helping her tug down the thin straps of her panties, then flinging the garment away. She wraps her right leg around his hip to open herself up to him, exposing the soft pink silk between her thighs.

It's James' turn to smirk. His cock isn't the only thing that's dripping, he discovers, stroking the coarse crimson hair at the apex of Jessie's mound. The erect bud of her clitoris peeks from between pink lips, and even in the dim light of the bathroom, he can see the nectar clinging to her thighs. Like a ripe pecha berry, he thinks wryly. The musk of her arousal is so overpowering that he can almost taste it, and he longs to drop to his knees and bury his face in her. She'd wrap her thighs around his head and steal his breath, and he'd drink up every last drop, hot and sticky-sweet.

"We don't have much time, in case you've forgotten," Jessie warns him. "Stop staring and touch me already."

If time was truly of the essence, he'd be fucking her by now. But James knows better than to argue. Whether on the battlefield or in the bedroom, Jessie is a creature not of logic, but of ruthless passion. That passion glows in her eyes as she bucks her hips towards him again. Jessie won't beg – she never begs – but her desperation is intoxicating, and pride swells in James's chest as he slinks his fingers down to her soaked, trembling core.

One swipe through her labia and his index finger is coated in sticky juice. His partner emits a tiny gasp of desire, arching into his touch as he uses the lubricant to massage her clit in teasing circles. Her lovely breasts deserve some attention, too, so he uses his free hand to tug her bra down to her ribcage, freeing her cleavage with a gentle bounce. "Ah, that's so good, don't stop," Jessie urges as he begins to massage one ample breast with his free hand, and his cheeks flush from the praise. His partner makes a sound that sounds suspiciously like a whimper, and James rewards her by sliding one finger fully into her heat.

She's already so close, he marvels. He can tell by the way she's twitching around him, her wetness dripping onto his palm. Ignoring her heated glare, he removes his finger to smear that wetness all over her plump lips, delighting in her resulting moan.

Jessie arches against him as he penetrates her again, with two fingers this time. "Sweetheart, you're so close, aren't you?" he whispers, and Jessie rocks into him in answer, fucking herself on his hand. Stealing another kiss from her cherry lips, he begins to rock in tandem with her, grinding his pelvis against her thigh. Her bare skin is wonderfully warm against his cock as he thrusts against her, and she flexes her thigh obligingly to increase the pressure. Soon a slippery wetness aids him, and he realizes with a twinge of shame that he's dripping precum again.

Raising a hand to James' face, Jessie strokes his cheek with her fingertips. He feels the faint rasp of her nails on his skin, and shivers with pleasure. "Aw, baby," she manages, her voice breathy with arousal. "You're humping my leg like an arcanine. Maybe I should make you come just like this, hmm?"

James feels his eyes widen, his hips bucking even more frantically into Jessie despite himself. She laughs cruelly, reveling in the power of her filthy suggestions. "J-Jess, dear," he stutters. "You wouldn't."

She would. She could so easily make him her pet, could let him rut against her a few moments more until he came all across the curve of her alabaster thigh.

"Enough talk," she orders, caressing his lower lip with a fingertip. Almost unconsciously, his lips part against her skin. "Suck." With that, she shoves two fingers past his gasping lips, and he hollows his cheeks enthusiastically, trying to replicate her actions when she pleasures him with her mouth.

"Such a good boy," Jessie murmurs, and he swoons against her, loving the feeling of her long fingers sliding deeper into his throat. They rock together for a long moment, two of her fingers in his mouth, two of his buried in her pussy. Her walls begin to tighten around his hand, and she squirms down on his fingers, chasing her orgasm.

There's a knock at the door, and James chokes around Jessie's hand, paralyzed by terror and arousal.

"It's occupied, can't you read?" Jessie snarls, giving one last furious thrust of her hips. And then she's coming, eyes rolling back and walls squeezing his fingers to force them impossibly deeper. The door separating them prevents the unknown passenger from witnessing the sordid scene, but whoever it is can probably hear both Jessie's groan of satisfaction and James' muffled whimper. Jessie has always loved performing, after all, and there's no better audience than a captive one.

"Sorry," says the person at the door; James thinks he recognizes the fire twerp's voice. With his lips still wrapped around Jessie's fingers, he remains motionless until he can no longer hear retreating footsteps. Undaunted, or perhaps uncaring, Jessie rides out her climax on his hand, reckless moans falling from her lips.

James withdraws his fingers gently, muttering apologies as his partner catches her breath. Lightheaded from the thrill of nearly being caught, he staggers back, tripping over one of Jessie's sandals in his haste to collect his clothes.

But Jessie has other plans. With a swish of her naked hips, she turns to face the mirror and braces herself against the sink with both hands, standing on tiptoe and spreading her legs as far apart as she can in the enclosed space. Tossing him a lazy, satisfied smile, she arches her back to draw attention to the curve of her ass. She's presenting herself to him, a deadly submission attack.

He places a tentative hand on the small of her back, meeting her eyes in the mirror. Jessie raises a brow, and James finds the nerve to position himself between her legs, his erection nestled in the slippery cleft of her pussy. "D'you want to...?" he breathes, and she arches further into him.

"Yes," Jessie murmurs, sliding against his shaft. "Oh, yes, James."

He dares to grasp her hips as she moves against him, her tender folds teasing his cock. She lingers against him at the apex of each thrust, letting the head of his cock slip just inside her entrance, and then out again with a soft pop. He's so close to being buried inside her... The prospect makes him dizzy, and he grits his teeth to keep from ruining her game with a swift snap of his hips.

Jessie moans, still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. It would be so easy to come again; one deep thrust, just there, and she'd lose herself in bliss once more. But where's the fun in that? It's much more amusing to tease him into submission, to bring him nearly to the brink before giving him exactly what he wants.

And she wants it just as badly. She grinds along the length of his shaft one final time, smearing the weeping head of his cock against her lips in a messy kiss, then arches her back just so...

Oh.

She can't suppress a fluttery sigh of delight. Her core echoes her, clutching against him eagerly. There's nothing in the world as good as this, as good as the feeling of her James, buried so deep inside her that she can't tell where her body ends and his begins. A perfect fit. But thoughts like these are too dangerous to entertain, so she dismisses them with a toss of her hair and a buck of her hips. Pure, primal pleasure is safer, anyways...

It's easy enough to convince herself of this. Jessie moans lewdly, half for James' benefit, as she eases herself back onto his erection. Soon she's fucking herself on his cock, enjoying the feeling of her ass slapping against his pelvis and the sight of her breasts swaying gently in the mirror. The thrill of being ravaged in such a public place only heightens her arousal, and she stretches easily around his thick shaft.

By now, James is clutching at her hips and making pretty little mewling noises against her neck. Jessie gazes at him in the mirror, admiring his flushed cheeks and scarlet-stained lips. "Jess... oh, Jess!" he whines loudly.

He's too far gone to realize that he's nearly screaming her name. Jessie smirks as she continues her ride, flattered by his helpless state. "Shut up, or I'll make you," she warns, but a dark part of her hopes that he's too far gone to obey her.

James shudders against her. "Jess, Jessie," he continues to chant, softly this time.

She meets his eyes in the mirror. "Fuck me like you mean it," she commands, and he complies, bucking greedily into her. As the tempo of his thrusts increases, so does the smack of flesh against flesh. James' eyes roll back in his head as he watches her ass bounce, and Jessie arches up to tantalize him.

"Yes, harder, you can do better than that." Cruel, desperate words pour from her lips. She couldn't stifle them even if she wanted to. "Pull my hair," she orders, and he obeys in an instant, grasping a handful of her mane and giving it a sharp tug. Her head is wrenched back, and her throat tightens with the strain. A choked cry escapes her, the pointed pleasure making her eyes sting.

She blinks away the mist. In the mirror, she's the goddess she's always believed herself to be, smoldering with power as she takes her pleasure. The woman before her blazes with undisguised lust, and she's never seen anything so stunningly gorgeous.

Green eyes glimmer over her shoulder, and tenderness strikes like a knife to her heart.

And James is gorgeous too. Something about him is so unbelievably beautiful that it hurts to look too long. The darkness slithers up her throat now, flooding her mouth and pressing against her lips, and she fears that she'll break apart. James has seen this darkness, has been both captivated and tortured by it. But rather than running from it, he embraces it, cradling it close to his chest like the most beloved treasure in the world.

He's never left her, not once, not even when she shoves him away to keep from begging him to stay. None of her romantic flights of fancy matter anymore. Perhaps they never have. This is real, and she despises it, and she wants it more than anything on earth.

She moans out in confusion and agony and adoration.

Would it be so terrible, to love and be loved?

But her breath fogs the mirror then, and her question is left unanswered, chased away by James' maddening thrusts.

By now her partner is convulsing against her, hands tight at her hips to anchor himself as he fucks her for all he's worth. He's completely lost himself in his mission to satisfy her, and her core throbs in response to his amorous determination.

"Jessie, Jessie," he moans, her name a litany on his lips. His cries soar into a falsetto, so piercing that she's sure everyone aboard the plane can hear. They can't be caught, not now, not when she's so close to her second climax. She's got to find some way to shut him up.

She spots her panties lying crumpled on the edge of the counter. "I warned you," she growls, snatching the scrap of silk and shoving it into her partner's mouth.

James moans lustily around the gag, but it serves its purpose, muffling his cries. Jessie braces herself against the sink as the force of his thrusts increases. Her partner reaches to rub the sensitive bud of her clit with his free hand, and she's torn between arching up into his hand and grinding back to meet his sloppy thrusts. And he's pounding into her now, and she's sure that she's never felt so good in all her life. It's too intense, too much, and she's soaring into the stratosphere, hurtling towards the brink –

There!

"James!"

Her second climax blooms lush and sweet until it overtakes her in an unrepentant blaze. James follows suit, bucking his hips bucking his hips uncontrollably as he floods her pussy with hot cum. She rides out her savage pleasure, savoring every last bit of it as she spasms around his cock. Someone's voice is screaming in ecstasy, and without even an ounce of shame, she realizes that it's her own.

A horrible, ringing silence descends upon them, and surprisingly, James is the first to break it.

"I thought you said we had to be quiet?"

"Shut up," she responds automatically, but her voice is airy, almost tender. Even as she and her partner break apart and struggle to catch their breath, a shimmering warmth spreads through her body. James presses a kiss to her bare back before fumbling to collect his clothes, and Jessie shivers.

She turns to face her partner as she hooks her bra into place and tugs her pants over her trembling legs. He's grinning dopily at her, so distracted by her beauty that he's buttoned his shirt up crooked. If only moments like these could go on forever…

James finds that all of his trembling nervousness has evaporated. There's something like rapture on Jessie's face, and he can't resist placing a tender kiss on her parted lips. When he pulls away, she clings to his shirt. He imagines recklessly that perhaps she needs him to be strong this time.

"Jessie?" he begins. He's taken so many impossible risks tonight. Surely one more can't hurt.

"Yes, James?"

He clasps her hands in his, feeling her pulse beating in time with his own. "That stewardess... she called you my girlfriend." Jessie freezes, her lapis eyes brimming with something unreadable. Boldly, he plunges forward, knowing it could mean the ruination of everything he holds dear.

"Do you think... maybe... you could be?"

Her lips part to offer him salvation or to strike the killing blow.

"James, I –"

There's a knock at the door. James never gets his answer.

He and Jessie put on quite a show, he supposes, and their audience has finally responded to the leading lady's performance. The furious pounding on the door could almost be applause; the shrill shrieking of the stewardess could be a cry for an encore. Jessie straightens and flings open the door, revealing row after row of shocked, scandalized faces.

And she strides into the fray with her her head held high and her crimson hair flowing behind her like the cape of an empress. James trudges after her, staring at his shoes. Whispers swirl all around him, and he can't ignore the words.

"I can't believe they actually –"

"Lucky bastard, just look at her –"

"Settle down, class, we've still got five hours to go –"

The stewardess brings up the rear as they process to their seats, muttering something about indecent exposure and interference with the flight crew. Nausea swirls in James' gut as he imagines a future in which he and Jessie are given a life sentence for fucking in an airplane bathroom. The boss won't waste organization money bailing them out, of course. They're his worst field agents, bar none. What better way to get rid of them than letting them rot in jail?

He hopes that they'll at least allow conjugal visits...

When they reach their row, Jessie flounces down into the middle seat as if it's a throne. James stammers out an apology to the stewardess. In his lightheaded state, he thinks she tells him that he and his team are no longer welcome on Alolan Airlines: "Passport to Paradise!" He wants to laugh, but he's afraid that his mirth will quickly turn to sobbing.

Horrified murmurs buzz around them as James straps into his seat for the rest of the flight. Glancing to his left, he takes in the sight of Meowth curled into a tight ball, lost in dreamland – or at least pretending to be. It's a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

"Well, that was fun, wasn't it?" Jessie says dazedly. She appears to have taken no notice of the stir that she's created, much less James' state of paralyzed embarrassment. Heaving a blissful sigh, she lays her head onto his shoulder. In a matter of moments, she's snoring softly against his shirt.

James gazes fondly at the woman beside him, soothed by her gentle breathing. Her hair falls in suggestive disarray and her pale skin bears a telltale flush. A thread of drool slips past her crimson-stained lips, blotted by his kisses.

Jessie often refers to herself as "the most beautiful woman in the universe." She's right, of course.

"Darling girl," he whispers into her hair, wondering how she'd react to the term of endearment if she were awake to hear it. His Jessie, who rescued him and became his best friend a lifetime ago, who might be his girlfriend, who will always be his partner.

For a moment, they're the only two people in the world, hurtling through uncertain darkness.

Whatever awaits them in Kanto, they'll face it side by side.