Jailed Body, Freed Heart

Chapter 6

Jessie pulled her top white shirt off, careful not to muss her hair, and threw it into a dark corner of her room. Sighing contendedly, she flopped down on her bed and closed her eyes. It felt so good to be back in her room.

It felt so good to have finally captured Pikachu.

Jessie frowned slightly. She was happy that she had finally proved her superiority over Ash, and she was relieved that they had managed to finally carry out Giovanni’s orders, but she wasn’t really that glad that she would never have to chase after the small group of friends anymore.

"Geez, we’ve been doing it so long, I guess I’ve gotten used to it," she thought out loud.

Arbok’s Pokéball lay unused on her bedside table. She reached over and called the snake out. "I’m getting bored, Arbok. We haven’t had a good fight in days."

"Cha-bok-a!" The Pokémon swished its tail in agreement.

Her eyes narrowed a little. "Come to think about it, you’ve never had a good fight in your life," she muttered bitterly.

The snake looked down sheepishly. "Cha. . ."

Sitting back up, the girl called the Pokémon back to its ball. "Come on," she sighed. "We’ll go see if Giovanni’s got another job for us yet." Leaving her white shirt in its corner, she attached the ball to her belt and strode out her door. Shutting it firmly behind her, she suddenly wondered what she would have been doing at that exact moment if they hadn’t captured Pikachu yet. "Probably digging some stupid hole," she murmured. Then she smiled a little sadly. "Ah, sweet nostalgia." Sighing once again, she set off for her boss’ office.

Ash plodded in front of the guard obligingly, his hands securely handcuffed behind him. His legs weren’t hobbled, but the guard had made it clear that one false move, and he would be more than happy to blow a hole in the boy’s head. Even without the gun, Ash wasn’t feeling up to making a run for it. The enthusiasm that had broken him out of his chains only hours before had once again been replaced by a deep depression.

"Turn here, kid," the guard said gruffly, motioning with his gun to a dark, narrow hallway. Ash turned without a word and continued walking, silent and passive.

Brock sat listlessly in his cell, fiddling with his chains idly. He had never been so bored, and he had never been so angry. There was nothing he wanted more at the moment then to throttle either James, Jessie (yes, even throttle a girl), or Meowth to death.

A noise made him look up quickly. James was there, watching him solemnly. Brock looked back down, filled with anger at the sight of his enemy. "What do you want, James?" he growled between clenched teeth, hands tightened around the chains.

"Ash had gotten himself in trouble." The young man’s face was neutral, neither gloating nor sad. "I just thought you might want to know."

Brock shrugged it aside. "I don’t trust you," he said honestly. "Now, really, what do you want?"

The trainer had already disappeared.

Brock sighed and lowered his head. As he did, though, something caught the corner of his eye. Looking harder, he saw a key, glinting in the weak light, sitting on the ground where James had been standing. Brock inched forward, straining against his chains, closer and closer to where the key lay. Stretching his arms painfully, taut against the chains, he managed to hook a finger through the key ring.

He let out his breath and relaxed against the pull of the chains. Examining the key, he looked to where it had been only seconds before. ‘James must have dropped it accidentally,’ he thought. ‘But I wonder what it’s the key to?’

"Only one way to find out," he muttered to himself. Although he doubted he would be so lucky, he inserted the key into the lock on his manacles and twisted.

The chains popped free.

Laughing out loud at his good fortune, he unlocked the chains on his ankles. In high spirits, he tried the door to his cell. The key turned in the keyhole willingly.

Pushing the heavy door open, Brock smiled determinedly. "Now to find Ash," he said, starting down the hallway.