Just a quick little one shot I wrote after I came up with the idea last night. I'm actually quite proud of this! Remember to rate and review, please? :)

Oh, and I don't own Pokemon. That'd be awesome though...

Outside, the world is quiet. Everything is hushed and at ease. Wild Pokémon sleep peacefully in various places; in trees and behind tall grass, by small lakes and flower beds. Certain creatures, however, prefer the nighttime, and stay awake amidst the darkness. Hoothoot and Noctowl stand proudly on thick branches, soft noises emitting from their beaks and reverberating throughout the air. And then, there are certain beings who are stirring in the hours of darkness, but they don't particularly care for it.

Tiredly opening the door to his house was an example of this kind of individual. Stepping inside, making sure to stay completely silent as to not disrupt his sleeping family, the young man glanced at the clock that hung above the kitchen's doorframe. Its face was gently illuminated by the fragile white light that shone through the windows, just the right amount for him to read the time.

12:30 AM.

The man groaned inwardly, and turned his attention towards his shoulder. There, a small yellow Pokémon slept happily, his ears bobbing up and down ever so slightly as he let out short, shallow breaths. Playfully rolling his eyes, the young man scratched behind his partner's head, and left the mouse on his favorite place to snooze: the living room couch.

Looking back once more at the content Pokémon, the trainer started sluggishly up the stairs, reaching the top after what seemed like an eternity. Taking a deep, soothing breath, he rested his hand on a metal doorknob, and twisted it to open the door. Walking into the room, he willed his eyes to adjust to the total darkness, which they did in a very untimely manner.

As things became clear, however, a gentle whine reached his ears. He leaned in; making an attempt to figure out which side of the room it was coming from. When another, nearly identical noise sounded, he knew it was coming from the left.

Shuffling over, he placed both hands on the white railing of the crib, staring at the person who rested within.

The infant was, in fact, whimpering softly, although her eyes were closed. She was completely submerged in the dark, save for a sliver of light shining upon her little face. The glow revealed her red hair, bright as fire, and her pale complexion, which was not quite translucent but nowhere near tan. The baby's head shifted further towards the right, and the small shaving of radiance quickly grew to cover half of her features. At this, she squeezed her eyes shut even tighter, the cry from her lips increasing in pitch as she began to flail her tiny hands.

"Shh," the father soothed. He positioned a hand on her cheek, allowing the tips of his fingers to brush the child's supple hair. Very gently, he gave the girl's head a little push, turning her face to the left, and back into the cover of dusk. To this, the baby let out a long, contented sigh, and returned to her quiet slumber. The young man smiled boldly at his feat, and checked quickly on the silent boy at the other side of the room before walking back into the hallway.

Yawning, the man suddenly remembered just how tired he was. Deciding now was the time to go to sleep; he headed towards his own bedroom. Unfortunately, his eyes had not adjusted to the darkness of the new room, and he ran right into the end of the bed. Nursing his now throbbing knee, the trainer hobbled over to the left side of the mattress, his pain instantly disappearing as he noticed the sleeping figure across from him.

In truth, it was hard to make out any of the person's features, but he knew who it was, and that was all he needed. He could see her hair draping her shoulders, and her shape covered by the sheets under which she slept. What he couldn't view, however, was her face, which was obscured by an object held in her hands, and was the only thing being illuminated in the area due to its white color.

Giggling quietly to himself, the young man reached over and gently took the item out of the woman's fingers. The loss of the material in her palms caused the young woman to stir, and subsequently open her eyes. She moved them to the left, taking in the sight of the man stripping off his dark collared shirt to reveal his muscular build.

"Ash," she finally spoke, her voice tired but airy.

"Misty," he whispered, looking back at the woman, "did I wake you up? I'm sorry, but I needed this," he held up the white item: his t-shirt.

"It's okay," Misty shook her head, still watching as he slipped on the top. He stepped out of his sneakers, socks, and pants so he was only left with his boxers, and jumped into bed next to Misty, who in turn rolled on top of him. Ash glanced down, laughing gently as she buried her face into his chest.

"Why'd you have my shirt?" Ash asked curiously.

"Are you mad?" Misty grabbed at him.

"Not at all. Just wondering."

"Well, you haven't been home all week. And…your shirt smells like you. So, I decided to sleep with it. Don't judge me."

"No worries," Ash kissed the top of her head, "I'd never judge you."

"You come home so late at night, when I'm already fast asleep," Misty murmured, "and by the time I'm up in the morning, you're gone. The only times I've seen you the past few days is when I have to get up for one of the babies, and by "see you," I mean look at you sleeping."

"I know, I'm really sorry," Ash frowned, "you don't know how much I hate being out all day and all night. I've missed you too, Mist. And why don't you let me get up every once in a while for the twins?"

"Because you need your sleep, Ash. The four to five hours you've been getting isn't nearly enough."

"That's true," Ash mulled before sighed, "I miss sleeping."

"When will they stop making you do this?" Misty whined softly.

"I have no idea," Ash touched the small of his wife's back, "hopefully soon. I think it's just because the Indigo League is coming up."

Misty now rolled off of Ash, propping herself up on her elbows. The ebony haired master's heart fluttered as the young woman raised herself directly into the single lane of moonlight, all of her features becoming illuminated and clear.

Her medium length, fiery red hair, which matched her infant daughter's perfectly, was soft and neat. It looked shocking against her ivory skin; so light that it let off a gentle glow. What radiated the most, however, in the stark moonlight, were her eyes, their dark, emerald shade sparkling with pure love and innocence.

"What is it Mist?" Ash asked quietly, touching the upper halves of her arms.

"I'm just looking at you," she responded in a whisper, "you have a much darker complexion than I do, you know. So you look awfully nice in the nighttime."

Can she read my mind or something? Ash thought to himself with wide eyes. Misty's expression shifted from content to confused.

"Is something wrong Ash?"

"Huh?" Ash blinked, "no. Why?"

"After I said you looked nice, your eyes got massive. Almost like you were freaked out."

"Oh," Ash breathed, before laughing, "No, I'm fine. It's just…"

"Just what?" Misty interrupted.

"I was just kind of thinking the same thing about you."

"You were?"

"Yeah. Well, kind of. When you sat up like that…you just look…" Ash struggled to find the words, and Misty began to giggle as he tried.

Sighing lovingly, Ash finally stated, "Let's just say you look even more beautiful in the moonlight than you do in the dark."

As quickly as she'd started, Misty's laughter ceased, and she stared back at Ash with her green eyes. Ash pressed his shoulders back, preparing for the connection of Misty's fist with his chest. But instead, he was pleasantly surprised as Misty leaned down to press her lips against his; giving the young man a delightful yet passionate kiss. As she rested her body on top of his, Ash blissfully shut his eyes, taking a deeply important mental note:

Always thank the moonlight.