I have serious respect for this shipping (no punintendo ;D). /SHOT

So RespectShipping caught my attention a few months ago when I was cruising YT and found a video that was really cool *A* I can't remember what it was called now (since I forgot to favourite it), but it really made me consider the possibility of this being a legit shipping. And then I realised it had very few moments.

I was kind of saddened by this, but then upon stalking the archive for all sort of slash ships, (Boulder, League, Pallet, Coma, you name it) a wonderful idea of a "behind-the-scenes" fic emerged. And now here I am.

Word prompts: Run. Linger. Heartbeat.

1: Roses Are Lame, Roses Are Blue

-Fallarbor Town, November 6th, 2003-

As Ash's taillow slumped onto the ground in defeat, Brock raised his arm in Drew's direction.

"Taillow's unable to battle! Roselia wins! The victory goes to Drew!"

Ash visibly growled, teeth bared, cheeks flushing with humiliation. It was bad enough that he'd lost this battle, but to lose to a petty coordinator who devoted his life to making his pokemon's moves look pretty was the tip of the iceberg. Not to mention Ash had been training since he was ten, and two years from now he was still getting his sorry butt kicked by amateurs.

"Argh… Taillow, come on back," Ash scowled in a venomous tone, holding out his pokeball. His taillow croaked weakly in reply before being returned to its ball. From the corner of his eye he spotted May staring, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Woah," she said in a quiet voice. "I can't believe Ash lost…"

This for Ash to hear really stung; since the beginning of his journey in Hoenn, Ash had almost been like an inspirational figure to May, as she'd relied on him to guide her way to victory and ambition from the get-go. Her shock made the situation worse, especially as Ash was mainly battling Drew to reassure her that her rival was nothing more than a big talker.

Drew's smug face grew, if possible, even more smug, and he tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. "Believe it. I'll explain why."

Oh, really? Ash was all ears.

"In any pokemon contest," Drew began, "you have to be on the same wavelength with your pokemon if you wanna win. But that can be trickiest part about it."

Ash's frown deepened.

"Because when a trainer gets confused," he continued, "so does his pokemon. But that's the true essence of teamwork."

May's expression changed from disbelief to dismay.

Now, Ash was usually a good sport. Even if he felt hurt by a loss, he'd normally suck up his pride and congratulate that person on their victory. But with Drew, he didn't want to be the mature one. Something about the haughty look on the coordinator's face set Ash over the edge.

So he did the best thing he could in a situation like that: flipped the bird in the victor's direction and walked away, so swiftly even Pikachu hadn't seen it coming.

"Ash?!" May cried in shock. She'd never seen him acting like such a sore loser before, and as her role model, this was a little worrying. If he couldn't even handle a simple loss, how would she be able to cope if Drew was the one who kicked her out of her second contest?

"That wasn't very mature!" Ash heard Brock call sternly, but by this point he was beyond caring. Let Brock say or do as he liked.

The last thing he heard before the automatic doors to the contest hall opened was Drew's voice, as annoying and arrogant as ever, saying snidely, "At least if I were in his shoes I'd be able to handle such a poor loss."

Ash remembered there were times when he got riled up by the people he battled.

Gary, for instance. Gary was always smug upon winning battles against him, and looking back, he was right to be; he always had more experience and strategy, whilst Ash, back when he was a newbie trainer, often relied mainly on luck and wits.

Times had changed since then and he'd begun taking his battles a lot more seriously, training for hours on end every day, but that didn't stop him from still thinking at times that Gary had been the better trainer, even if Gary had repeatedly told him since the Johto League that he hadn't been cut out for competing against somebody as rowdy and determined as Ash.

Did this make Drew his new rival? Since he'd arrived in Hoenn, Drew was the only recurring trainer he had met up with, so it seemed like that was the only logical conclusion. But still…

"No." He shook his head fiercely, finally locking the door to the room he shared with Brock and flopping down on his bed. "Drew is May's rival and I'm not low enough to take that from her."

He understood that in the past he'd had Ritchie as a rival as well, but for some reason it just seemed like annoying May and proving to be better than her was all Drew truly cared about.

Besides, Drew was a coordinator at heart, and Ash refused to get so riled up with his overconfident attitude to consider quitting his quest to enter the Hoenn League and take up coordinating.

Since, initially, wouldn't that make him May's rival as well?

Rivalries that went three ways never seemed to work out well, as he'd seen in the television dramas he'd watched as a kid, like Slateport Girls and Chansey and Me.

He buried his head in his pillow, sinking into the feeling and letting the pent-up anger go.

Why was he letting his temper get the better of him, anyway? This wasn't the first loss he'd had, that was for sure. He'd convinced himself, upon stepping foot in Hoenn, that he'd grown out of throwing tantrums every time he lost.

But then again, that was before he'd met somebody as annoying and prissy as Drew. In this moment, Gary didn't even seem to come close.

Get a hold of yourself.

"Stop being stupid," he told himself suddenly, forcing himself to sit up. "You should be cheering on May," he muttered, "not wallowing in a teeny little loss."

He made an effort to stand and unlocked the door, opening it a fraction. As he did, Pikachu tackled him to the ground with a loud, "Pika!"

"Haha, hi there Pikachu," he laughed softly. As his pikachu's relieved look morphed into that of disapproval, he lowered his head, shame-faced. "Yeah, I get it, I get it… I was a really sore loser earlier. I let you guys down. Especially Taillow…"

He sighed. "I don't know what came over me, Pikachu. It was stupid to get so irritated, I can admit to that… But…"

Ash shook his head and stood up. "…I suppose I should clean the slate with Drew, huh…"

Not yet, though. Still too soon.

Ash hadn't spotted Drew while the group had gone into town to get a bite to eat from the fast food place famous and recommended by Grace for its cheese-smothered French fries and chilli combo. Ash's suspicions were that Drew was eating in one of the fancier joints, alone, perhaps in one of the places so posh it required trainers to put their pokemon away before dining.

As the group chatted amongst themselves (Brock trying desperately to impress Grace with Max grabbing his ear whenever his passes were too forward), May turned to face Ash with a look of concern on her face.

"Uh… Ash?" she spoke up at last, gingerly. He paused, cheese-covered fry suspended on the end of his lower lip like a cigarette.

"Yeah?"

May fidgeted uncomfortably for a moment and Ash stared at her food carton to distract himself while she composed herself. Instead of going for the chilli like the rest of them (something to do with it being a really heavy food - must have been a chick thing), she'd opted for a dainty cheeseburger and salad. This was infuriating Ash earlier when she'd been stealing fries off of him, but he realised at this moment she simply wanted a healthy complexion for the contest tomorrow and decided he wouldn't say anything the next time she stole a fry out of his carton.

"Uh… well…" She fiddled with a piece of lettuce for a moment before glancing up at him. "What happened back there?"

"Back there?" he echoed. She glanced around nervously.

"You know, when you and Drew were…" She trailed off, but the point was made.

Ash sighed. "I… I don't know. He was pissing me off, so I made my point and walked away, I guess. And I suppose that's all there is to it…"

May bit her lip. "…It kind of startled me," she admitted. "I mean, you've always been such a role model to me, and… I'd never seen you act so immature before. I'm sorry, Ash, I don't want to sound mean, but… but you were acting like Max when things don't go his way - minus the hand gesture and all."

She sighed and closed her eyes. "It just got me thinking. If I can't count on you to handle losing like a man, how can I expect to cope with a loss myself? You're so much better at battling than me, Ash, and I'm sure if you tried you'd give me a run for my money as a coordinator, too. But if you can't win a battle against Drew and fly off the handle… how am I going to do tomorrow when I have to face him in the area of training that he's best at…?"

She lowered her head. "I don't have any confidence at all, Ash."

Instantly he felt a pang of guilt in his chest; after all, it was his fault for losing and acting like such a diva that May was feeling so down in the dumps right now. He reached across the table and squeezed her arm.

"You're going to be fine," he promised. "I shouldn't have thrown a fit like that… and I'm sorry if it scared you. I was out of order, and I can admit to that. I'll apologise to Drew later, if it'll make you feel better."

She looked up at him as he spoke again. "But remember, May - whatever happens out there, you're not me. You have a good chance at beating Drew because you're a confident coordinator with a boatload of talent. You need to be sure of yourself, because you'll blow them all away. Okay?"

She nodded slowly, managing a tiny smile.

"Thanks, Ash," she said softly, reaching across the table to steal a fry off of his plate. "I sure hope you're right."

It was after dark when Ash heard the sound of a roselia's petal dance from outside. Forcing an eye open, he caught sight of the petals gently drifting past the window and landing in scattered clumps on the balcony. So Ash, being Ash, decided to investigate. He wasn't the only one awake, it seemed.

"A-Ash!" May hissed. She had just finished changing into her pyjamas and was pulling the bedclothes over her. "What are you doing? It's really late!"

"I could ask you the same question," he whispered back. "Contest nerves?"

She nodded guiltily.

"I think I'll be okay now, though… I'm getting some sleep. Where are you going?"

He shrugged. "Getting some fresh air. I'll be back in a few minutes."

May sighed and closed her eyes. "Well… okay then… goodnight, Ash."

"Night, May."

As she rolled over to face the wall, Ash quietly unlocked the balcony doors and stepped out into the cool night air. Instantly he could see a few storeys down Drew was commanding attacks from the balcony, his roselia balancing on the edge and complying with his demands.

Ash poked his head over the side to glance down at him.

"Keep it down, would ya? I'm trying to sleep!"

Drew looked up, saw who he was talking to and his face split into a confident smirk.

"Is that so? Then why did you tell May you were going out for some fresh air?"

Ash frowned. "What the…? You were spying on us?"

"Not exactly. You guys have loud voices, you know. I'm surprised you didn't wake up the other two in your room."

Now it was Ash's turn to smirk. "So, I'm supposing you're practising because of contest nerves too then? It's a shame I can't sympathise with you, since I've never been jittery before a battle… then again, I've also never been in a contest, either. Is it more pressure?"

Drew kept his composure. "Yeah, definitely. Battles are normally one on one, with only a few travelling companions as witnesses. Contests are broadcasted live on television, and since Hoenn has a reputation for being the first region to house contests, it attracts fans from other regions as well. But of course, I've competed so often my attitude to contests comes naturally. I'm not worried nor afraid, Ketchum. But last minute practising is the best way to prepare your pokemon for the competition. Pressuring them to meet deadlines is a very important thing, so you don't have to worry about them flunking out."

Come to think of it, Ash hadn't really thought about contests as such a big deal before. Not that he'd ever admit that to somebody like Drew. That'd be almost as wimpy as giving in.

"So, are you up for the challenge?" Drew smirked. Ash blinked.

"Huh?"

"An old coordinator friend of mine was supposed to compete tomorrow, but they came down with something and had to cancel. Which means one spot is open," Drew said. His eyes met Ash's. "Are you going to enter?"

Ash grimaced. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm a trainer, not a coordinator."

"Is it just that?" the green-haired coordinator countered. "Are you really that afraid of losing? Or is it that you think being a coordinator is a sissy profession?"

"I… I never said that." Ash frowned and broke eye contact.

"But you thought it. Right?" Drew's smile deepened. "I can tell, you know. You're thinking, 'It's okay for May to be a coordinator because she's a girl'. So you think contests are all about sparkles and beauty?"

"Not to be funny," Ash shot back, "but as far as I've seen, contests seem to be all about the sparkles."

Drew gave a short laugh.

"At least you're honest. Coordinating is a lot more than just pretty attacks, you know. It's strategy. Coordinators can see battles in a whole new light by learning through contests. Like, a trainer might only see a rock tomb as an offensive attack to trap your opponent. But what if it became a defence attack as well, and your pokemon used a rock tomb attack on themselves to shield their bodies from whatever attack the opponent was conjuring up?"

Ash stared.

"So you see," Drew continued, "that's why I beat you in that battle. Contests teach you to think outside the box, and though you might not know this, gym leaders and champions tend to encourage this. It might just be your advantage one day." He flicked a strand of hair back. "Feel free to thank me in advance."

"I'll do no such thing until I see it with my own eyes," Ash snapped, though he was already beginning to see in his previous battles where he could've easily worked out strategies based on watching other coordinators in action. "Anyway, uh… I was being a bit of an asshat earlier. I'm sorry… it was wrong of me to act like such a sore loser. You won fair and square…"

"No apology necessary," Drew smirked, that smug expression back. "It was quite refreshing to see you act out like that, actually. I was surprised that you had such an immature side to you. And here I was thinking you were a good sport who was nice to everybody…"

"I normally am," he retorted, face warm under Drew's gaze. "I… I don't know what happened. It was strange. Normally when I lose I'm okay with it, but today… I saw you standing there, taking my strategy in your stride without any trouble at all. And it annoyed me." He clenched his fists. "You're a coordinator, Drew! And I'm a trainer! I've been battling for two years, and you're a year younger than me and not even a proper trainer! Yet you still wiped the floor with me and had room to be cocky. I… uh… it just irritated me, that's all."

He hung his head in shame, but glanced back at Drew again as he heard him begin to laugh.

"That's the Ash Ketchum worth getting to know," he chuckled. "Instead of hiding behind that façade of being peppy and a good sport all of the time, isn't it more fun when your true emotions surface? Certainly for me, it feels like more of a victory when I get through to you in a way that your friends can't."

Ash's heart raced. In less than a day Drew had picked apart exactly what his closest friends had never once spotted, despite over two years of travelling.

His chest clenched.

"…So what now?" he found himself asking. "Is this it? The reason I won't partake in the contest tomorrow is because I don't want to rival May. It's her first chance to do something special and stand out… I can't take that away from her." He swallowed. "But as for you, I could gladly take you apart piece by piece right now."

Drew's face broke into a grin.

"Then consider us rivals," he said carelessly, flicking a strand of hair back. He held out his hand for Ash to stare at for a moment, before heading back into his room. For a moment Ash lingered in stunned silence, wondering if that was it, if the cocky brat was once again going to leave him to bite the dust.

But then the green-haired boy emerged again, grin gone. His face was now suppressed into an unreadable expression. Silently, he pulled a rose out of his pocket and twiddled it between his fingers for a moment.

Then, "Roselia… take this up to dear Mr Ketchum here." He caught Ash's eye and smiled slightly as his roselia darted up onto Ash's balcony and handed him the rose. "Consider this a parting gift, since my pokemon will be too wiped after the contest to battle you tomorrow. The next time our paths cross, we'll find time to battle. I promise."

And then, without another word, he recalled his roselia into its pokeball and headed inside, giving Ash a slight wave without making eye contact. Ash stood out on the balcony, bewildered, clutching the rose in his trembling hands as his heart refused to slow down.

"What was that?" he murmured. Heading back inside and locking the door, to his relief he saw May was fast asleep and sighed, picking up his bag and reaching inside it for his journal, a small parting gift his mother had handed him, forcing him to promise to write in it from time to time ('so that one day, his kids would have something to look at when their wonderful father marvelled in the tales of his many adventures').

(That said, if he was nearly as deadbeat as his own father, Ash was sure his kids would want no such thing.)

He reached for the last page of the journal and tore off the lower part of the stem so the rose fit inside the page of his journal, and he abruptly shut it, tight enough to crush and preserve the rose. And then he picked up a pen and scribbled down the day's events.

6th of November.

Lost a battle with my first Hoenn rival, Drew. I acted like a sore loser, but our fight has been forgotten. I've also been instructed to think outside the box (or 'like a coordinator') during battles for a more satisfying victory. Apparently my more immature side appeals to some people (not that I'd ever admit I have such a side to that smug prick's face).

He put his journal away and slid into his bed, careful not to disturb Pikachu, who was sound asleep at the foot of his bed. As he allowed his head to hit the pillow, he remembered the events of the day, green hair and rose petals the last thing on his mind as he drifted into an easy slumber.

He couldn't say he was unhappy about May's victory, but seeing Drew's disappointment still made his mouth sting slightly as he recalled the words the two had exchanged the night before.

"I'm going to get my beauty sleep before we head towards Lavaridge Town," May smiled, before heading off into their room.

"And I'm going to check out the gift shop and see if the beautiful girl from earlier is still working her shift," Brock added with a faint blush on his cheeks. Max sighed.

"Guess I'll have to be his chaperone then," he sighed, before trailing after Brock. Then he turned back. "Ash, Pikachu, do you guys wanna come? I think they're having a sale on pokeblock."

Pikachu uttered an excited noise and hopped onto Max's shoulder. Ash laughed and followed the two as Max began chattering happily to him about the contest and Brock rehearsed pickup lines.

As the group approached the elevator at the end of the corridor, the doors opened to reveal Drew, casually leaning against the inside of the elevator with earphones in, blasting out loud music. This genuinely surprised Ash, who had always imagined Drew to be the type of person who would prefer classical music to rock, but everybody had their own way for dealing with losing, and listening to music reflecting his mood was obviously one of Drew's.

"Hey," he said, waving as they entered the elevator. Drew gave a curt nod and abruptly turned away, turning his music up louder.

"He's just being a sour loser because he lost," Max said matter-of-factly, folding his arms and pouting. Brock laughed nervously.

"I think you mean sore loser, Max."

As the two continued to argue which was the correct saying, Ash absentmindedly rubbed behind Pikachu's cheek and watched Drew attentively. The green-haired coordinator seemed slightly angered by their presence, which he could understand; after the loss he'd faced yesterday, he realised that sometimes being alone helped.

But sometimes wasn't the same as always.

As the elevator opened Brock and Max headed over to the gift shop. Ash set Pikachu onto the ground and allowed him to patter off into the store.

"I'm going to keep Drew company," he called to Brock, who could barely hear him over the noise of his beating heart as he came face to face with yet another pretty girl behind the counter. Max turned to stare at him with a confused look on his face.

"But Ash, why are you being so nice to Drew? He's May's rival," he pointed out, brow furrowed. Pikachu watched silently, almost with a mutual understanding.

"Drew's still a good person, even if him and May are like oil and water," Ash said simply, shrugging. "I'll meet you guys back in the room. In the meantime, keep our resident horndog under control, okay?"

Max shrugged, not quite knowing what that word meant but understanding anyway that it was aimed towards Brock.

"Suit yourself, I guess," he said quietly, before disappearing behind the shelves. As Ash turned around, Drew was already melting into the crowd.

"Drew! Hey, Drew, wait up!"

He raced up to him and reached out to put a hand on his shoulder when Drew turned around, slapping him away.

"Don't touch me," he snapped. "I want to be left alone right now."

Ash frowned.

"But Drew… there's nothing to be ashamed of. You put up a good fight and you know it."

"It wasn't good enough, because I lost," he spat. "And that's all there is to it."

"You gave it your best," Ash countered. "Though, as quoted from you, it's very refreshing seeing such an unguarded side to you, Drew. I think that's worth thinking about, don't you?"

"Leave me the fuck alone," Drew snapped, and Ash took an uncertain step back; he hadn't expected Drew to curse quite like that. "What do you know about contests, anyway? Even if my rate for entering contests is becoming clockwork, I always feel honoured to be there and not once have I taken my place there for granted! A careless loss is an embarrassment, a let down to all of the people who couldn't enter because of the slot I filled. My loss could've been their win and that is the frustrating part." He shoved his earphones back in. "So don't act like you know what it's like. Gym battles can be retaken at any given point in time. As for contests, they only happen every so often. I can't take my spots in those contests lightly. I know that now."

As he pressed the play button and began blasting out loud music, instead of trying to convince Drew to think otherwise, Ash simply took one of the earphones out of Drew's ear and put it into his own, scrunching up his face at the volume hurting his ears.

"I didn't realise you were into Black Sabbath," he said. "Didn't strike me as your style. I was expecting something classier, coming from you."

Drew raised an eyebrow. "And what, in your opinion, is classy enough for my ears?"

Ash shrugged, mind blank.

"…Cocteau Twins?" he offered. Drew rolled his eyes.

"You're such an idiot."

"Rolling Stones? Kansas? David Bowie?" Ash tried desperately as Drew began shaking his head slowly.

"You don't get it, do you?" he laughed shortly, pausing his music player. "You don't get anything about me."

"I know you're just shying away from me because you think I want to battle you," Ash replied. "And because you're embarrassed about your loss. And because you're embarrassed about how our conversation ended last night."

"What happened last night?" he asked, feigning innocence. "I don't recall us having any sort of conversation last night."

"But we… uh…?!" Ash frowned, wide-eyed and tight-lipped, before giving in and sighing. "I give up. I can't win when it comes to you, Drew."

Despite his best efforts, a small smile tugged at Drew's mouth and he closed his eyes, flicking a strand of hair back. "At least we can both agree on something."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ash demanded. "I was trying to cheer you up! This is the part where you say I'm wrong!"

"But you're right. You'll never win against me, and that's a fact." Drew allowed himself to smirk knowingly, tipping Ash over the edge.

"Maybe it's a good thing that May won."

Drew stopped smirking to stare at him, caught off guard.

"What?"

"Perhaps," Ash continued, "it's a good thing that May beat you at something. Maybe if she carries on winning it'll knock you down a few pegs."

Drew frowned.

"That's not funny. I'll lose my pride as a man if somebody as wimpy as her becomes a recurring rival."

"She's already chosen you as her rival, so I don't think you have a choice," Ash pointed out. "And besides, you already lost your pride as a man when you chose twirling in contests over striving to battle."

"Again with the sissy jokes, Ketchum?" he chuckled, closing his eyes and shoving his hands, rather ungracefully for Drew's standards, in his pockets. "You know, that joke's going to get old eventually."

"I'm just savouring it while I can," Ash shot back, eager to be on terms as close to friendly rivalry as the two could get, having not known each other for very long. "The next time you dress up for one, maybe you should get your flygon in a tutu?"

"Yeah, if you want Flygon to look stupid. That's the same as having your pikachu put on some of May's make-up."

"It's not stupid," Ash said quickly, deciding not to mention that May often tested out new make-up on Pikachu's arms to see how it looked before applying it on herself.

Drew grinned. "Really? Then how about this? Look here - the next time we battle, your pokemon have to show up in drag."

Ash spluttered loudly. "Um, no way!" He shook his head. "No. Fine, fine, I'll stop including your pokemon in the sissy jokes. But I'm still not giving you any mercy, mister."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

At that moment, a loud intercom message sounded over the din of the crowded lobby.

"Drew Blakeslee, you are receiving an incoming call from LaRousse City. Please head over to a videophone and insert your pokdex identification code in order to be put through."

Drew flinched.

"LaRousse City?"

"My hometown," he shrugged. "Must be my folks." He turned to face Ash and offered a small shrug. "I'd better be going. Until then…"

"Right!"

Drew stopped in his tracks and craned his neck to face Ash. "Do you still have the rose?"

Ash's heartbeat quickened slightly. "Oh, the rose? Yeah, I still have it."

Drew's expression softened for a moment, before flickering back to composed indifference.

"Good to know. I'll see you around."

"Yeah…" Ash watched, a little deflated, as Drew faded into the crowd and headed over to the reception. Sighing, he rubbed the back of his head and decided to return to the shop, where Max was hanging around outside with Pikachu.

"Max! What's going on?" Ash asked as Pikachu hopped onto his shoulder with an excited cry. Max shrugged.

"The girl at the cash register actually likes him back so I gave them some peace. They're probably going to eat out for dinner or something." He handed him a bag of colourful pokeblock. "The lady in the store said this would make the velvet lining the inside of his ears softer," he explained. Ash grinned.

"Wow, thanks a lot, Max!"

As they began walking towards the elevator, Max tugged on Ash's shirt.

"Hey, Ash?"

"Yeah Max?"

"Uh…" He fidgeted a little. "What did you and Drew talk about?"

Ash smiled a little and stroked pikachu's paw, which was nestled against the crook of his neck, with his index finger. "I just told him what he needed to hear." Upon seeing the younger boy's disapproving 'there's something you're not telling me' expression, he added, "I also let him know May's future victories are going to give him a run for his money."

Max, now satisfied with this answer, dropped the subject and chose to chatter to him happily about the different grooming brushes and pokemon food they had in the store, and Ash allowed his mind to lazily drift back to the scent of rose petals still lingering on his fingertips.

He wondered if the smell of roses ever truly went away.