The stars were up when Misty opened her eyes but the light from Ash's lamp illuminated their little camp; casting a warm glow over the clearing and washing his hair to brown. She watched him for a few moments, he hadn't noticed she was awake, and as he rummaged through his pack she smiled softly. He handed something to Pikachu, who gave a happy squeak before nibbling away.

"How long was I asleep?" she asked quietly, still basking in the numb comfort of sleep. Ash patted Pikachu on the head and flopped down next to her, arms behind his head as a cushion. After a moment he glanced over at her and gave her a grin.

"About an hour," he said.

"Oh, sorry," she glanced at him apologetically and he shrugged.

"Don't worry about it, Mist."

"No! I promised you a fun weekend and then I go and fall asleep on you."

"Well," he grinned at her again, "It was fun listening to you snore."

"Ash!" she lifted her arm as if to bat him, eyes wide, then gasped in horror. "Do I snore?"

"Like a Snorlax," he laughed. Misty groaned and hid her face in her hands.

"Don't worry about it," he nudged her lightly on the arm, "It's cute."

She opened one eye slowly.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, once I realised it was coming from you and it wasn't an earthquake."

"Ash!" this time she did hit him, whacking him hard on the arm with the back of her hand, "Do I really snore?"

"Of course you don't," he chuckled, sticking his tongue out at her. She felt the white hot burn of fury rising in her cheeks but it was short lived; he was grinning at her in a way that meant she couldn't stay angry.

"Grow up, Ash," she muttered, but her eyes shone happily.

"Nope," he replaced his head on the ground and shut his eyes, "I don't turn eighteen for another month. I'm acting like a kid for as long as possible."

"Knowing you, Ash, you'll still be acting like a kid when we're forty."

"Don't you mean when I'm forty and you're –what?- forty-four?"

He rolled away quickly, narrowly avoiding the fist which landed where his head had been. On his feet he dodged her again, darting to the other end of the clearing.

"Pika!" Pikachu piped up in encouragement, his paws pointing towards Ash.

"Hey! Whose side are you on Pikachu?" Ash cried, hiding behind a tree.

"Mine!" Misty grasped the tree trunk and glared at him round the side, "He knows I'm not that much older than you!"

She felt suddenly flushed, both with anger and embarrassment that Ash may have made a genuine mistake. But as he put his hands up in mock surrender she could tell he was toying with her. She put her hands on her hips and regarded him with suspicion as he emerged from behind the tree.

"How old am I, Ash?" she snapped menacingly. Ash gave her his most endearing smile.

"Whatever age you are I'm sure you look good for it," he said, giving an elaborate bow. It was s few seconds before he looked up and in that time she felt her face pale from an angry red to a flushed pink and he flopped back down; patting the ground next to him and laughing.

"I'm glad we came, Mist." He propped his head up with his elbow resting on the ground and smiled up at her as she moved to join him.

"Me too, Ash," she murmured in reply, "Just like old times."

"Wasn't that the point?" he cocked his head slightly.

"Yeah," she said simply, but her voice took on a new, quieter tone. He leant forward.

"What's wrong?" she found she was suddenly unable to express herself and felt his hand on her arm.

"Mist?"

"It's nothing," she murmured, attempting a smile. But he saw through her and frowned, studying her face in the firelight. For a moment she refused to meet his gaze, finding her nerve had suddenly evaporated. Eventually she felt him shuffle next to her, looking up at the sky as he waited for her to be ready.

"Ash?" she broke the silence that had started to become tense. He looked at her plainly, waiting for her to continue. There was something so open and honest about his face that she found strength from his gaze. "If I tell you something will you promise not to hate me?"

He chuckled good naturedly and looked at her with big brown eyes. She paused, eyebrows drawn together, and his smile faltered. Suddenly serious, he leant forward and mirrored her expression.

"I could never hate you, Mist," he murmured, taking her hand. The gesture was innocent enough but she drew some comfort from it and moved to sit up; he followed suit, his expression shifting from vague curiosity to one of both confusion and concern.

"Mist?" he said her name softly, reaching out to cup her cheek. She knew as far as he was concerned he touched her like a friend; he had no idea that the way he said her name, the nickname only he had the privilege to use, made her melt a little. Or that she wanted much more than a friendly caress on the cheek. His hand guided her face to meet his eyes- so gentle that for a moment she could believe that it meant it almost tenderly- and he smiled, his mouth lopsided.

"Tell me," he breathed, and just for a second she thought he knew, but his eyes searching her face for an answer told her otherwise. He was still none the wiser. Still confused.

"I-" she averted her eyes and took his hand from her face. She took a deep breath and exhaled the words she had been both longing and dreading to say to him.

"I love you."

The ensuing silence was broken only by Pikachu, who squealed in delight and dislodged himself from his perch in celebration. Ash gave no reaction at first, but after a few moments he fell lightly on his back.

"So much for still being a kid," he said finally, so quietly she was unable to gauge any emotion in his voice. Assuming the worst she lay down next to him and rubbed her face with the back of her hand.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, tears threatening to spill over onto her cheeks.

"Don't be," she looked up and saw he held a grin bigger than she had seen all day, "It's about time I grew up," he moved to face her, "You said so yourself."

Then, his expression faltered and his face grew solemn.

"In the films this is where the guy says it back," he said pensively, as if he were merely testing the words. Misty smiled sadly at him.

"You don't have too, Ash," she said softly, "It's okay. You can't help not falling in love with someone any more than I can help… falling for you."

He frowned slightly, meeting her gaze and for a moment she thought she might have gone too far.

"It's not that, Mist. I want to. I really do. It's just… I'm not romantic, Mist. I don't know if what I feel is love."

Misty said nothing, even though her heart was pounding. She was thankful his words led themselves to silence; it could mean ruining everything now if she spoke too rashly…

He seemed not to notice the tension building up inside of her, but instead leant over to grab his sleeping bag and, more carefully than she would have thought him capable, tucked it round them both. They lay in the stillness for a moment until she heard Ash take a breath.

"Mist," he whispered, "I'm not sure what love is. But I know I'd rather be with you than without you, and not in the same way as my other friends," he paused, pensive, "You mean more to me than May… and Dawn… and even Brock. I mean, they're my friends but you," he looked at her with a smile, "You're my best friend. I know that I'm happiest when you're around and that when you're gone I'm miserable," his voice grew daydream-like, "I know I'm lucky you didn't wake up to catch me watching you while you slept. I've missed that. When we're awake we can drive each other crazy but when you're asleep… I realise none of our arguments matter. 'Cause when you're asleep you're beautiful, and when I'm asleep I get to dream of you. I know I do that a lot…" he flushed red.

"Ash," Misty found her voice and reached out for his arm. He squeezed her hand but the look he gave her, eyes shining, made her keep quiet.

"You've always been more than just a friend, Mist. I'm sorry I can't say 'I love you' but, if you'll let me, I'll figure it out. Because you've always been there for me and I'll do anything to make you happy." He trailed off and sat up slightly, eyes burning into hers.

"You just did, Ash," she whispered and closed her eyes, a strange sense of satisfaction awash over her. She could wait for the words; she had been waiting for years with little hope, a while longer with all the hope in the world would do no harm.

She closed her eyes and basked in the warmth of both the flush in her features and the campfire he had tended earlier. She felt him shift beside her, felt the security of his body lying next to hers.

At peace, she opened her mouth to emit a soft moan of contentment just as his lips met hers.

As first kisses went theirs was clumsy; the soft collision of noses and cheeks couple with her small squeak of surprise. He placed his hand awkwardly on her side, jolting as he brushed past her breast. But still she grinned and she felt him do the same against her mouth. After a few glorious moments she tried to pull away to meet his eyes but he held her firm, their lips finally finding a comfortable pattern. When he did pull his lips away she sighed.

"Say it again," he murmured, drawing back enough to study her face. She cocked her head to the side and he brought his lips back down to her, brushing hers gently.

"Say it," he urged again softly, his lips barely touching her skin.

"I love you," she felt him sigh against her and press his lips, once, softly on her cheek.

"It'll be fun figuring this one out," he whispered.