Hello, everybody!

This whole thing is really experimental for me. I want to try different styles and, most importantly, I want to see if I can make something original out of all these clichés.

A little boy, blonde haired and blue eyed and the cutest little thing he had ever seen, tugged on his shirt sleeve and asked, "Are you a Pokémon Master?"

"Uh-huh. I'm here in Cerulean to bust Team Rocket," Ash replied, smiling at the child as Ash settled on the soft, rubber like substance that circled the Cerulean Gym's pool. "See, when you're a Pokémon Master, you get to be a superhero. You run around and beat up bad guys, but you make money from it. It's like being Iron Man."

"Why doesn't Leader Misty call you Master Ash?"

Ash laughed, realizing the kids in Misty's class had never heard the girl referred to as anything other than Leader Misty, and had only heard her address him as Master Ash when she first introduced him to the group. The boy was completely confused by the laughter, and Ash explained, "Because the last time I tried to get her to call me Master she threw the toaster at me."

"Are you married?"

The laughter stopped and the boy blushed. "We're friends."

"Why do you live with her if you're not married?" he insisted.

"I don't live here. I'm visiting. You know, like how you'd visit your grandma."

The boy didn't even hesitate to respond, "My grandma's dead."

Ash face softened. "I'm sorry."

"Her heart 'sploded. I never met her," the boy said calmly, then abruptly changed the subject with, "Do you kiss Leader Misty?"

"No, I don't."

"Do you have sex with-?"

"No!" Ash yelped, face red. "I'm here on business and visiting my friend!"

"Don't yell at the littles, Ash," Misty scolded, walking in with a huge bin of juice boxes. She wore a pair of jean shorts and a bright yellow bikini top. "One for each of you, and, Andrew, I've got milk for you. Your mom says you have to drink that first."

The master gestured wildly at the boy next to him. "He asked if we were having sex!"

"Kids are weird, Ash." She shrugged.

"After talking about his dead grandmother who apparently had an exploding heart!"

She rolled her eyes, passing out the juice boxes as the kids lined up. "Alright, make the kid cry, but you get to deal with his parents when they yell at you. I've learned to pick my battles."

He crossed his arms and pouted. "They probably don't even want to be trainers."

"I want to be an astronaut," said another girl, sipping her juice. "Are you two married?"

"She wants to be an astronaut! Why is she at a gym?"

"So I can teach kids water safety and make myself the pocket change that made your birthday gift an ultra instead of a great ball," she retorted. "Besides, they may be crazy but they're pretty cute."

He frowned. "They talk about dead people."

"Kids are fascinated by death, ugly people, and anything messy, and they have to loudly point them out whenever they see them."

"Are you married?" the little girl pressed.

Misty sighed. "No, Becky, I'm not married."

She took a long draw from her juice box, then swallowed as a little dribbled down her chin. Musically, the little girl taunted, "Do you like him?"

She blushed. "No, Becky."

"Then why are you blushing?"

She blushed deeper. "I'm not blushing."

"No," Ash contributed, raising his hand slightly, "you're definitely blushing."

"Not helping, Ash."

He grinned. "Not trying to."

"Alright," Misty clapped her hands, spinning on her heel to the rest of the kids, who seemed much more interested in the pool and their juicebox than the romantic life of their professor. "Who can tell me a water safe-put your hand down, Ash."

"But I know a water safety rule," he argued, beaming in a way he knew would push her buttons.

The redhead gritted her teeth and glared out at the children, "Who can tell me a water safety role?"

"Don't drink the water!" Becky shouted, her chin and chest and bathing suit now sticky with apple juice.

"That's true, but let's name one we talked about," Misty asked. Hands flashed in the air, and she pointed to one in the back. "James?"

"Always know where the side is," he said.

"That's right. When you're in the pool, know where the closest side is so you even got out in a hurry if you have to. What's another one?"

Another kid from somewhere in the middle didn't wait to be called and blurted, "Swim with a buddy."

Misty nodded, back into the easy rhythm of the lesson. "That's right. And if you're in one of the pokemon pools or areas where plenty of pokemon are said to hang out, try to bring at least two or three friends with you. Anything else?"

"Don't bother any pokémon."

"That's right, it could be wild."

"Or it could be training with someone," Ash popped up. "A trained pokémon could be just as dangerous as a wild one."

"That's true" she agreed. "Can anyone think of another one?"

"No rough-hounding, or playing around," Becky chimed.

"Roughhousing, Becky. What's the last one?" Misty said.

"Swim with a buddy!" Becky repeated the previous rule, her hand flailing about in the air.

"Thank you, Becky," Misty sighed. "But I was looking for always have an adult nearby. So, we're going to wrap up the day with what to do when someone drowns."

"If they drown, aren't they dead?" Ash asked. "So shouldn't you buy a coffin? Alert the next of kin?"

"You have to do CPR," another child corrected. "But Leader Misty already told us we're too little."

The boy arched his eyebrow. "So what do you do?"

"Call 911."

"Well, maybe you should know so you can tell someone big what to do in case they drown, because a lot of adults don't know what to do. Probably not a lot of adults in Cerulean, but I'm sure at least one of you will do something worthwhile and leave this town."

"Ash," Misty warned.

"I'm not lying! It's not like I said they'd be worthless!" he argued. "I like Cerulean, I just think that they should try and-"

She cut him off. "I don't see how you're one to be talking. I traveled with you for years, and I don't think you could read a map, let alone save a drowning person."

"Are you and Master Ash having a lover's spat?" asked the boy who had first tugged on Ash's sleeve.

"We're not lovers, and we're only teasing!"

Ash ignored him and promised, "I could save anyone! I know CPR."

"Well, that's good," she said, sounding unconvinced. "Doubt you're certified."

"You could certify me."

"I don't have the dummies out, and I'm not going to grab one for your sake, especially since I have a lesson to teach."

"Misty, they're four. Their job is to call the police. Do you kids know the address?" Immediately, the group recited the address in an almost musical chant. "Look, see? Your brainwashing finally stuck."

She crossed her arms stubbornly. "I don't care. I'm not getting the dummy."

"Lay down, then."

"What?' she gasped, looking appalled.

He giggled. "You be the dummy. Lay down and whenever I'm supposed to breathe I'll say 'breathe' and whenever I'll push down I'll only push a little. I've used the dummy. I know how hard you're supposed to push."

"This is insane!" she cried. "I'm not doing this!"

"I don't care. I just want to prove I can do it."

"No," she snapped. "I'm not letting you hover over me, touching me face and my chest area."

"Come on, Mist! I won't touch anything I'm not supposed to."

Forgetting she was in company of children, she growled, "How would you know? The doll was flat."

"Because you're so much…" he began sarcastically, then laughed nervously and asked, "Kids, wanna see us do CPR?"

"Yeah!" shouted Becky, throwing her hands up.

"See? They want to learn all about CPR."

"Becky has a disorder. The girl would cheer if you told her the world was about to end," Misty retorted.

"Oh, come on," he whined lowly, looking at her with the biggest eyes he could manage. "Certify me!"

She weakened a bit. "Why do you even want to be certified?"

"So I can be sure I'm doing it right and save lives."

"You just want to prove you can do it."

"If I did, that's not a crime."

She sighed, laying on the floor. "Alright, Ash. You walk in the gym and see that I'm lying on the floor, unconscious. What do you do?"

He grinned. "Pikachu, thun-"

"Ash!" she shouted, sitting up quickly, glancing around for the mouse she had forgotten was resting upstairs. "Don't you dare!"

"You asked."

She crossed her arms. "You gonna do this or not?"

"You have to make sure the scene is safe. No rampaging gyarados or loose electrical wires or time bombs. The usual."

"Is the scene safe?" she asked impatiently.

"Unconscious teenage girl in bikini." He chirped, "Don't see anything wrong here."

"Ash."

He got to his knees. "So, Misty, are you faking unconscious or are you really dead?"

"I'm really unconscious," she replied.

"I don't think KO'd people talk."

"Ash," she growled, gritting her teeth once more.

"Alright, do you have a mirror on you?

"A mirror?" she asked incredulously.

"It's easier to tell if you're breathing that way."

"For the sake of time and my sanity, let's say that I'm not."

"Okay." He scooted close to her and picked up her wrist, pressing his two fingers down. "Your heart beats slow, Misty," he said in awe.

"It's called being in shape, tubby."

"You look cute like this," he said with a wink Brock had told him was flirtatious, then laughed as she blushed. "See, that's a normal pulse."

"Was that necessary?"

"Hey, it was that or scaring you, and I don't have a bug type on me. So, considering your heart is beating, I really should just breathe for you or check if something is lodged in your throat."

She resisted the urged to slam her head on the floor and knock herself out. "My heart isn't beating, you checked my throat and it's clear, what now?"

"Two deep breaths," he said. "Pinch your nose, tilt your head back, breathe."

"Do everything but the breathing." She sighed.

"Why?"

She sat up a bit. "Do you want your certification or not, Ketchum?"

"Yeah, Ketchum!" Becky encouraged.

"Becky, he's Master Ketchum to you," Misty scolded.

Then he pinched her nose softly and used his other hand to push her chin back, just enough to open her airway. She tried to control her shivers as she felt where the calluses on his hand contrasted with the soft skin of her face, even more so when he whispered, "And then my mouth is supposed to form a seal, so the air can't get out, then I breathe twice and watch to make sure your chest inflates so I know the air is really going in."

She shook him off. "Don't make a boob joke."

"I won't in front of the kids." He gestured at the awestruck children.

Becky leaned over to one of the girls and whispered, "This is more romantic than Cinderella!"

"You have weird kids here."

Misty shrugged. "Cerulean's a city of romance. It's the cape up north that does it."

"So, do I do the chest pumps, that I won't joke about because of how extremely mature I am?"

"Have you used a dummy?"

"Yeah."

"How far down do you press?"

"Until it clicks. From here," he posed his body, then leaned forward, "to here."

"And why don't I want you to do that to me?

"Because you don't want me touching you," he deadpanned.

"Medical reason," she deadpanned back.

"I'd snap your ribs."

"Crack. I doubt you'd snap them." She rolled her eyes. "So press lightly, and do the chest pumps in a way that will let me breathe tomorrow."

He swallowed. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Because I don't want to get hit."

She glared. "Then don't touch anything."

"Not like there's anything to-" He grinned awkwardly again, nothing her anger.

"I'm not feeding you tonight."

"Lace fingers, lock elbows," he said in a rush, then set his hands on her chest. "Then you push."

"Are you allowed to do this is you're not married?"

"Yes," the two said, blushing again.

He pumped at the regular, brisk pace he was supposed to, then sat back and said, "Then two breaths."

"Do it."

"I already did it."

"Do you want your certification or not?" she said exasperated, slamming her fist on the floor.

He crossed his own arms. "I want dinner."

"You're impossible!"

"Fine, cranky." He pinched her nose, tilted her head back, and kissed her.

For a moment her whole body went rigid on the floor, her feet popping off the ground in surprise then, slowly, they fell to rest against the floor, not caring how ridiculous it must have looked for Ash to be holding her nose and kissing her in a room full of small children who were all laughing like a cartoon had pulled a hilarious gag with ended with the character in some physical pain. Well, all except for Becky, who stared at the scene as if witnessing a holy ritual.

Ash pulled away, blushing. "That's a no in front of the kids, huh?"

She sighed, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of her. "Not to mention that is not the proper way to breathe."

"No certification, then?" he asked.

"That's okay!" chirped Becky. "If you fail you just have to practice."

And the blushes returned.

So, I hope that was a fun twist on the typical CPR story!

All pairings are accepted, and I'm open for suggestions as to what to write next.

Also, I plan on changing my name from Bittersweet Romanticide to Sovereign of Mediocrity.