The stadium was dark, cold, and foreboding; even, Ash mused, for Team Rocket. Standing at one end of the arena floor, the boy clenched his handcuffed hands into fists and shivered despite himself. He kept a steady glare at the man standing smirking across the arena length from him. Giovanni stood casually, hands in his pockets. A single Pokéball rested at his feet.

Ash looked down at his only Pokémon. He had only been allowed to use the one Pokémon, and Pikachu had been drugged by the Rocket guards after the fourth time it had shocked them. The effects of the sedation were wearing off, but Ash’s eyes narrowed in concern for his little friend. "Pikachu," he murmured quietly. The Pokémon looked up at him through sleepy eyes and smiled weakly. "We’re gonna win this, okay?" The yellow mouse nodded slowly. "Okay." Ash grinned in spite of the situation and raised his head to glare at Giovanni again.

Giovanni shifted his head slightly. "Shall we begin?" he asked the boy quietly, smiling slightly, raising his voice only loud enough to be heard.

Ash jerked his head ‘no’. "Not until Pikachu is ready," he answered back emotionlessly.

Giovanni nodded once and resumed standing quietly. The man may have been evil in its purest form, Ash mused, but he was patient. And as the boy stared at the almost amused expression on the infamous face, he felt a shiver run up and down his spine. The subordinates of this man had regarded him with an almost godlike terror. Ash was brave, but he was beginning to understand why.

Two Rockets gathered despondently outside the arena entrance.

"This really sucks."

"Yeah, it does."

"Well, what if he wins the battle? The boss’ll let them go, right?"

"Do you really think Giovanni’ll follow up on the deal like that? If the kid wins, the boss’ll probably kill him to protect his reputation."

"Well, if the kid wins, at least the boss’ll understand what we go through everyday."

"Not anymore. Those days are over, my friend."

"Oh, yeah..."
The girl shifted uncomfortably. "To tell the truth, I kinda..... I kinda don’t really..."

"Want it to end this way? You’re getting soft." The boy smiled shyly.

The girl shoved him. "Oh, shut up. I’m not getting soft. But I dunno, I’ve kind of liked how our life has been going on lately. I mean, sure, we’re mocked a lot more, we’ve lost our reputation, but I-"

"Don’t really care? Me neither."

"Yeah..."

"Well, then we have to do something."

The girl paused. "That’s maybe the smartest thing I’ve ever heard you say," she laughed. "But how do you propose we get about doing that, Sherlock?"

The boy tapped the side of his nose and winked. "I have a plan."

The girl grinned. Then her face fell. "Does it-"

"No, no holes," the boy answered quickly.

The girl grinned again. "Well, let’s hear it then."

It’s funny how the simplest of plans are sometimes all you need.

The yellow Pokémon struggled to its feet and, breathing hard, uttered a strident, "PikaCHU!"

Ash grinned. "Okay, Giovanni, let the battle begin!" he called out across the stadium.

The man inclined his head in a nod. With one gesture of his hand, three Rocket guards scurried forward to remove the handcuffs from the young boy. Rubbing his wrists idly, the boy nodded at his Pokémon, who gazed up at him calmly. "Let’s go, Pikachu."

"Ka."

The tension, fear, and hatred vanished from Ash as he prepared to do what he did best. Turning his hat backwards, he flung a hand out in front of him and pointed. "Pikachu, GO!" he cried.

The electric mouse leaped into the ring. "Pika!"

Giovanni stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Let’s see what you’ve got, Ash Ketchum," he murmured. "Persian, go!"

Without so much as a move from the man, the Pokéball at his feet burst open in a flash of light. A Pokémon formed inside the ring. As it materialized, Ash’s jaw dropped.

Because this wasn’t the same Persian as before. That had been some lap pet, a domestic creature. This was a true Pokémon. It was a fighter. It was a killer.

It eyed Pikachu with a maniacal glint in its slitted eyes. Sinewy muscles rippled under its velvety coat. It raised a huge paw and four dagger-like claws flashed. Its long tail lashed twice, the red charm on its forehead shone blood-red, and it opened its powerful jaws to reveal two rows of sharp, white teeth. It yowled then, a sound that reduced Ash and Pikachu both to quivering piles of jelly.

Giovanni smirked proudly. "Let the battle begin," he agreed.

If there was one thing she wanted less in the world at that moment, it was to open her eyes. Life’s hard, though, Misty concluded, as she struggled to a sitting position and cracked her eyes open.

Thank God she had been given one of the worse cells in the prison. There was almost no lighting here, only a faint yellow glow shining from some hidden source down the hall. Nevertheless, it was enough to give her a massive headache. "At least if my head splits in two," she muttered, "I won’t have to look at the light anymore."

"Yoo hoo, girly."

Misty jerked her head to the direction of the sound, and immediately regretted it. Massaging her temples so hard, they were in danger of being punctured, she strained to make out the mystery person.

"Bet you’ve got one heck of a headache, huh?"

It was a Rocket guard. The unfamiliar man leered at her.

Misty groaned. "Yes, how did you guess?"

"Eh, just observant. Me mother always said I was."

Misty sighed and squeezed her eyes shut. "Oh, really?"

"Yep." The guard scuffed his feet on the dirty, concrete floor. "You’re with that Pokémon kid, right?"

"Ash?" Misty sat up straight and leaned toward the guard, acutely aware of a quickening of the breath.

"Yeah, that’s ‘im. Heard the news?" The guard chuckled to himself.

"No, no, I, uh, no, what, um, what news?" she stammered in attempted casualness.

"He’s picking a fight with Giovanni ‘imself!" The guard could stifle himself no longer and burst out laughing. "Can you believe it? That scrawny little thing? Against the Team Rocket boss?" The guard subsided in a fresh fit of laughter.

Misty’s eyes narrowed. "Yes, I can believe it," she forced through clenched teeth, glaring at the man.

The man stopped abruptly. "Watch yer mouth, girly," he threatened, "or I’ll shut it fer you."

Her eyes became fiery slits. "Just try it."

With a menacing grunt, the guard pulled a key ring where it hung from his belt, and, pausing to select the right key, unlocked the cell door. Pulling the door open, he stood in the doorway to smile cruelly at the helpless girl. "I ‘spect your headache’ll be a lot bigger when I’m through wit’cha." He pounded a gloved fist into his hand and stepped towards the girl.

An enraged cry escaped the girl’s lips. As the guard stopped, confused, Misty whipped a foot out, sweeping his legs out from under him. The Rocket fell to the ground with a thump, cursing as he did. "I’ll kill you fer that, you little-"

Before he could scramble to his feet, the girl grabbed his head and, wincing as she did so, pounded it once against the concrete floor.

The guard’s body went limp instantly.

Misty gasped. "Did I. . . . kill him?" she whispered to no one in particular, breathing hard with instant anxiety.

The guard answered with a muffled groan.

Misty heaved a relieved sigh. "Well, now that that’s taken care of," she said brightly, "we can get on with the good stuff."

Hooking a finger through the key ring the guard had dropped, she cheerfully began to sort though the keys there, testing each one on her chains.

"Giovanni, I don’t know why, but I’ll never let you battle Ash alone."

"Pikachu, dodge it! Use agility and dodge it!"

"Pika!"

The huge cat raised its paw again, lethal claws extended, and swiped down at the little mouse.

This time, the Pokémon zipped out of the way.

"Great! Now, thundershock!"

The yellow mouse clamped both paws on its checks. "PiiiiiikaaaaaCHUUUUUU!" it cried as it sent a small, but powerful nonetheless, bolt of electricity at the cat.

The Persian narrowed its eyes to slits as it was struck by the attack. Growling under its breath, it waited calmly until the electricity had stopped surging through its body, and then shook itself thoroughly. It turned towards the terrified Pikachu, grinning. "Purrrrrr...." it growled smugly.

Giovanni’s mouth twitched upwards into a brief smile. "I do believe you’ll have to do better than that, boy."

A Rocket member crouched outside the cell where only moments before, Misty had been trapped. Chuckling, the Rocket unlocked the door and poked the side of the unconscious guard inside.

"Psst! Wake up!"

The guard stirred. "Ow..." he groaned. "I’ll never look at her the same way again."

"I wish I’d been here to see it. You okay?"

The ‘guard’ pulled the black cap off his head, letting his shoulder-length hair free. "I guess so..." he murmured, peeling the putty nose off his face. "I’m surprised she didn’t recognize me."

The Rocket laughed. "Oh, stop scrounging for compliments. You’ve always been good at disguises."

The ‘guard’ grinned. Rubbing the back of his head, he winced. "So, where to next?"

The Rocket helped her partner up. "Here’s where we part company. I go down, you go up."

"Gotcha." The ‘guard’ stepped towards the cell door, and stopped. "Hey!"

"What now?"

The ‘guard’ felt at his side. "That brat took my gun!"

Misty hurried down the hallway determinedly, remarkably calm, considering the situation. And as she ran through the empty corridors, she reflected on her current state, and quite a few questions went through her mind. Why did she care so much about Ash? Well, that was easy enough. He was her friend. But Brock was too... and she wasn’t nearly so worried about Brock...

She banished the thought from her mind in an instant. ‘That’s dumb,’ she thought. ‘I’m especially worried about Ash because he’s battling Giovanni at the moment, that’s all.’ And she left it at that.

Which triggered a fresh new wave of questions to wash over her. Why was Ash battling Giovanni? Where were they? Was Brock there? Was Ash all right?

And, most importantly, How the heck am I going to find them in this huge building?

During life, we are all faced with problems, big and small, but few are as easily solved as Misty’s was then.

As she stopped dead in her tracks, belatedly realizing she had no idea where she was going, a lone young Rocket came stumbling down the hallway, whistling brokenly and hiccuping occasionally.

Misty waited until the oblivious Rocket had weaved his way close enough to her, and then leveled the stolen gun at his head.

It was Dillenger’s day off, and he and his partner Calamity had gone to town. They hadn’t had a free day for as long as they could remember, so they had done everything at town they could think of that day. For Dillenger, that consisted of stopping in at every bar and sampling whatever the bartender recommended. After the seventh bar stop, Calamity had gotten so disgusted with him that she left to shop by herself. So drunk that twice he barely stopped himself from asking an Officer Jenny to give him a ride to the Team Rocket Headquarters, Dillenger finally made his intoxicated way back to the HQ by nightfall. As he stumbled down the hallway on his way to Calamity’s room to apologize, praying in a rather slurred way under his breath that she would forgive him, he suddenly felt the cool metal of a standard Team Rocket handgun barrel on his temple. He sobered up in an instant.

"Look, I REALLY don’t like killing people, but I’ve had an incredibly trying day, and I could use some help."

Dillenger eyed the young girl holding the gun to his head, terrified. His throat suddenly dry, he croaked quietly, "What do you want?"

Misty couldn’t help grinning. This was going to be so much easier than she had even hoped. "Directions. By any chance, do you know where Giovanni battles trainers?"

Dillenger knew all too well. When he had first entered the Team two years ago as a young recruit, he had gotten the fantastically unpleasant job of mopping up the blood on the arena floor after some of the Boss’s more violent victories. He nodded slightly. At the sudden movement, Misty instinctively jerked the gun threateningly. The blood drained from the Rocket’s face and he squeezed his eyes shut in horrified anticipation. When the blast didn’t come, he cracked one eye open. "Follow me."

He was too caught up in winning to realize he was destined to lose.

Giovanni was just too strong. The Persian was just too powerful. The entire situation was just too hopeless for Ash to even begin to fantasize that he could get out alive.

But for some reason, it didn’t matter. Though the poor Pokemon had been battered, bloodied, and wounded to the point where one just can’t go on any longer, Pikachu refused to give up, and Ash wouldn’t give surrender a second thought. It was hopeless, true. But just try telling Ash Ketchum that.

Pikachu tried to dodge the fury swipes, it really did. But the Persian was still strong and untouched; Pikachu, on the other hand, had little strength left. The Persian set upon the weakened Pokémon with a series of fast, brutal, bloodthirsty swipes. As its claws raked deep gashes into the mouse’s weakened body, and as it heard the Pikachu’s almost inaudible cries of pain, it grinned malevolently and slashed faster and deeper. The bloodlust shining in its yellow eyes, it yowled, a sound of complete and utter triumph.

Ash turned his head quickly, the scene too unbearable for him to watch.

Giovanni’s eyes glinted, and he allowed himself the faintest of smiles.

Pikachu shuddered weakly as the blows rained down on its pitiful body. It had stopped feeling the pain long ago. It had taken itself beyond its limits, beyond the pain barrier. But now, as it submitted to the violent attack, it could feel the strength, the will, and the life ebb out of it. It was happening. It was dying.

It closed its eyes and concentrated, concentrated on not giving up, on not blacking out, on winning, winning for Ash, and for itself. Drawing strength from some unknown reserve, deep inside of it, it took a deep, shuddering breath. The Persian, aware of an unusual change in its victim, paused in between raking swipes to study the Pikachu curiously.

Pikachu struck.

"PIIIIIIIKAAAAAAACHUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!"

The cry that tore from the Pokémon’s lips rang with newfound strength, and renewed determination. The Persian had time for one startled ‘Purr?’ before it was blasted backwards by an incredible Thunderbolt. The cat Pokémon skidded across the arena floor, coming to a stop at Giovanni’s feet. The man’s eyebrow twitched, and he regarded Ash with a unreadable expression.

Ash didn’t notice, though. He was staring at his Pokémon incredulously. Pikachu stood there, breathing heavily, its paws clenched into tiny fists. It stood there silently, glaring defiantly at the prostrate form of Giovanni’s Persian. Ash drew in a deep shuddering breath.

In the chill of the HQ basement, a Rocket pressed the button on a solitary Pokéball. Accompanied by a cracking sound and a flash of red, the Pokémon formed. "CHAA-" it began to cry, but was cut off by a frantic "SHHHHHH!!" from its master.

"Look, if you ever did anything right, it has to be now. It’s very important that you pull this off. Got it?"

Detecting the urgency in its master’s voice, the Pokémon swished its tail in understanding.

The Rocket grinned. "Good. Now here’s what you gotta do..."

"Pikachu..."

The Pokémon gave a little jump, as if it was surprised, and turned to the sound of the voice. "Pikapi?"

High in the beams of the HQ arena’s ceiling, a Rocket called out his only Pokémon. "I’m going to need a little help, so you’ve got to be really careful. This is the most important thing you’ll ever do for me, so don’t screw up. Please."

The Pokémon glanced at its master apprehensively, but dipped its head in consent.

The Rocket smiled and patted his Pokémon on the head fondly. "All right. Get ready, because we gotta do this quick...."

"Pikachu." The boy’s eyes shone with unshed tears. "You did it, Pikachu."

The Pokémon smiled at its master. "Pikapi. Pikachu."

‘Ash, we did it together.’

The Persian, unheeded by the boy and his Pokémon, raised its head weakly and mewed pitifully. Giovanni’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits. He caught the eye of one of the Rockets guarding Brock, who was grinning at Ash and Pikachu from his imprisonment near the arena door. Giovanni nodded slightly. The guard’s eyes widened, and he whispered something quickly to the Rocket next to him. The Rocket nodded grimly and motioned to the four Rockets flanking him. They simultaneously pulled out their handguns and watched their boss gravely, waiting for a signal of some sort.

Brock caught his breath, and glanced feverishly at his young friend. He groaned inwardly.

Giovanni, ever observant, followed Brock’s gaze curiously to Ash, who still stared at his Pikachu, oblivious to the Rockets slowly approaching him. Giovanni began smiling again, eyes glinting with evil.

Outside the arena, a Rocket and a girl approached the entrance. The lone guard raised an eyebrow. "Dillenger? Isn’t today your day off?"

The Rocket shrugged it aside, trying desperately to disguise his anxiety and fear with nonchalance. "Er, mind letting us through, Tom? I’ve got to talk to Giovanni."

The guard looked at Dillenger as if he were nothing short of raving mad. "Are you crazy? He’s in the middle of a battle!" The guard leaned in closer. "Dillenger, he’ll kill you for sure."

The Rocket tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He was seriously considering making a run for it when he felt the girl poke the gun into his back. "It’s important, Tom," he said hastily, breaking out in a cold sweat.

The guard sighed and turned to unlock the heavy arena door. Pausing to think, he turned back to them, adding as an after-thought, "Who’s the girl?"

Dillenger opened his mouth to answer, but found his throat was too dry to speak.

"I’m a new recruit," the girl thought quickly. "Giovanni asked to see me straight away. Dillenger’s showing me around."

The guard grinned suddenly, as if everything had become perfectly clear. "Oh, I getcha. Well, welcome aboard, though I can’t imagine why Giovanni’d call for you in the middle of a battle."

Misty shrugged amiably as she hurried Dillenger through the open door, doing her best to conceal the handgun from the guard. "I dunno. Strange guy, I guess."

Everything happened at once.

Pikachu, smiling triumphantly up into its master’s eyes, noticed the Rockets first. "Pikapi!" it shrieked shrilly. Ash whirled around and gasped at the sudden knot of Rockets surrounding him. The Rockets, caught off guard, cursed and fumbled for their guns’ safety triggers, aiming at the ten year old boy.

The arena door burst open and Misty ran into the room. Half of the guards around Ash turned and cursed again. Brock gaped at his friend. "Misty?" he stuttered. "How’d you get here?"

She flashed a quick grin and fired her gun at the ceiling, drawing all Rocket attention away from her endangered friend. "Long story, Brock."

Deep in the basement of the HQ, a lone Rocket stared at the metal box, weighing options in her mind. Finally she decided. "It’s got to be done," she said quietly, to no one in particular.

Giovanni glared at the newcomer. "Kill her! Kill them both!" he shouted, furious.

The Rocket high in the rafters watched the mayhem below through slitted eyes.

A gloved hand flung the small box door open, and then grasped the handle of the switch there.

"Prepare for trouble."

The lights in the arena flickered, then shut off completely.

A collective ‘gasp’ of surprise sounded around the room.

The Rocket flung the explosion down towards the milling crowd below him.

"Make it double."

There was a crack, and then a boom, and suddenly the guards preparing to shoot Ash were flung every which way, as the bomb, that had appeared almost magically, exploded. Ash himself was thrown several feet, landing painfully in the middle of the arena ring.

"Ash!"

He found himself being helped to his feet by two people around his age. "Brock?" the boy asked, dazed. He squinted at his other rescuer. "M-misty? How did you -- where did you -- why?"

The girl grinned despite herself. "I’m here to help you, Ash."

He smiled and opened his mouth to tell her.

"KILL THEM!!" Giovanni roared suddenly. Ash looked up to see several of the guards climbing to their feet painfully, scrabbling for the guns they had lost in the blast.

The three friends froze in the middle of the room. Already, one Rocket had his gun trained on them, and several more were regaining their composure. They watched, Brock terrified, Ash weary, and Misty defiant, as Giovanni approached them slowly. He smiled cruelly, "You see, Ash Ketchum," he said softly, so quietly that the boy could barely make out the words. Nevertheless, the sound echoed off the walls of the silent arena, and seemed to be taunting him, over and over again. "I always win. Always."

He smirked once, then turned to the nearest Rocket, mouth open to give the command.

Another bomb rocked the walls of the arena, exploding amongst the regrouped guards, sending them flying again. At the same time, Ash thought he could hear a quiet wheezing noise, almost completely masked by the bomb’s explosion. The next instant, the room filled with thick gas, choking and blinding them all.

"Don’t let them get away!! Don’t let them get away!" Giovanni bellowed, frenzied, but to no avail. The three friends, Pikachu perched on Ash’s shoulder, somehow stumbled their way through the gas-filled room, past the guards milling about in utter confusion, found their way to the back wall undetected, led by instinct, almost, where it seemed a familiar snake Pokémon had used its acid to burn a hole through the wall; climbing through to the outside world, they struggled away from the building, until they could at last collapse to the ground at the HQ gate, exhausted.

"We did it," Misty gasped. "I can’t believe it. We did it."

"Purrrrr...."

Eyes wide in horror, the three whirled to face the Pokémon. The Persian sat between them and the gate, smirking smugly. Not the killer. The Top Cat. Giovanni’s personal Pokémon. It regarded them through slitted eyes, then opened its mouth, preparing to yowl, to summon the guards, to give the three friends’ position away. Ash’s squeezed his eyes shut in panicked anticipation. They’d gotten so far, only to be stopped by this lap pet?

"Mee-owth, I been waitin’ a long time fer this," came a voice from behind them.

A cream-colored blur hit the Persian, cutting the yowl off in its throat. Between victorious Fury Swipes, Meowth cried to the astonished trio of trainers, "Go on, get outta here!" They stared for a second or two at the two cats clawing and biting each other, Meowth exuberant in his ultimate triumph. Then Ash, feeling almost numb, found himself being dragged through the gate by Misty, Brock stumbling behind them, crashing through the forest that hid the HQ from view, following an almost-nonexistent path. The three trudged on, walking and walking as the forest around them began to swallow up the huge building behind them, less and less of it showing until, finally, the Team Rocket Head Quarters vanished from sight.