Next! Glad your enjoying it people, *wonders what mr_pikachu is thinking oO*

Chapter Two—Never Send a Boy To Do a Girl’s Job



Ash continued smiling brightly as Angie and her mom exchanged a quizzical look.

“I’m sorry, dear, but I think you have some misinformation,” her mom said. Ash’s hopes plummeted—sheesh, he hadn’t even made it through the front door. He didn’t know whether he should be thankful or annoyed. He hated failing, but for once, he didn’t think he’d mind, as long he could take off this stupid bra.

But then Mrs. Tanner said, “It’s not Angie’s birthday.”

“Oh!” Ash said, giggling as he jumped right back in the act and feigned embarrassment. Come to think of it, he was embarrassed, but it wasn’t for that reason. “I’m so sorry,” he said, attempting to make his voice even higher. “I didn’t realize—my mom told me it was a birthday party. I’m so embarrassed...”

Angie and her mom exchanged another look “That’s all right, dear,” her mom said kindly, though her bewilderment was still obvious. “This is all just a misunderstanding, I think. Your mom...umm, can you remind me who she is?”

“Mrs. Master,” Ash said quickly. “Umm, Ima Master. And I’m Ashley.”

“Right, Ashley...” her mom was still at a loss for words. She mouthed his ‘mom’s’ name to herself, her brow creasing, and while she was mulling it over Ash decided he’d better do something, fast. As much he would have liked for that action to be ‘kill Brock,’ he gave another effort to gaining entrance to the slumber party. But thinking of Brock gave him an idea. As Brock was reciting to him before he left, rule number twenty-three in Brock the Love Master’s Book of Romance was: Bribery will get you—everywhere.

Ash lifted his gift again and said, “Here, Angie. I bought this for you, so I’d still like for you to have it.”

“Why, thank you!” Angie immediately warmed up to him, and Ash had hope that his plan was actually working. Wow, Brock was actually right about something? Scary thought.

“You’re so sweet,” Angie continued. “Here, why don’t you get your suitcase, and I’ll show you to the den. That’s where all the other girls are.”

Victory!

As Ash knelt down to pick up his suitcase, he shot a glance over to the bushes and discretely stuck his tongue out. The bushes shook in response, and Ash grinned. He had to admit—sure, he was dressed as a girl, but hey. If he ever decided to drop the pokémon master thing, at least he could make it in acting.

“So, how are you doing?” Angie asked as they walked down the hallway. She kept casting questioning glances in his direction, probably trying to remember where she had seen his face before. For his sake, he hoped she didn’t remember...not accurately, at least.

“Fine,” Ash said. “Are you having a nice party?”

“Oh, sure,” Angie said. “We’re watching a movie right now, and I just came upstairs to get some—oh!” she said, a look of realization on her face, and Ash jumped, crossing his fingers that it his true identity hadn’t just been discovered.

“I almost forgot,” she said. “Can you wait here for a second, while I go another bottle of soda? We’ve got pizza and chips downstairs, too, if you want some. And the pizza just got here about fifteen minutes ago. My mom was mad because they were thirty minutes late. They had to give it to us for half price, and we’ve got plenty left over.”

“Neat,” Ash said. Neat? That was an understatement. Brock had been so occupied with prissying Ash up that he had forgotten to make dinner. Ash wondered if it was unladylike to devour half a pizza. “Sure, I’ll wait. Do you need help?”

“Nah. Be back in a second.” She left him in the hallway, and Ash looked around. Angie’s house was similar to his, though it was slightly larger and the furnishings were more upscale. His mom would really like it—he felt guilty for a moment, like he always did when he thought about how much his mom spent on him. Training to be a pokémon master cost a lot of money, money that could otherwise be used on nice things like interior decorating. But his mom did it because she loved him, and he loved her for it.

Of course, if she knew what he was doing right now, she’d be killing him...

“Okay, ready to meet the other guests?” Angie said as she returned. He nodded and followed her downstairs, his palms turning sweaty at the thought of what he was about to pull off. He absentmindedly wiped them on his dress, and the quick glance Angie gave him at this action reminded him not to do that again. Sheesh, this was hard—they reached the bottom of the stairs and Angie opened the door and announced their arrival.

“Hey, everyone, I want you to introduce you to—Ash!”

She knew!

Ash was temporarily blinded by panic or insanity, either one would work. He had the bitter aftertaste in his mouth that he usually only felt after one of Pikachu’s thundershocks. “Uh...” he said.

“I mean, that’s what I call her,” she continued. She turned to Ash. “You know me. I always have to give everyone a nickname.”

Whew. “Right,” he said, but his smile was rather weak. Once his heartbeat stopped beating quite so rapidly, he was able to look around. There were four other girls at the party, including Misty. They all sat around a big screen TV watching what was probably some sort of chick flick. Three of the girls were on the floor in front of the TV, and they diverted their attention from the movie long enough to see who he was, then turned back to the screen. Misty was on the sofa by herself, though, and she smiled curiously at him when he looked at her.

“That’s funny...” she said. “You look kinda like my other friend Ash. Except he’s a guy.”

Great, just great. That was all he needed, for either her or Angie to figure out the resemblance. His pulse accelerated again. He was a goner. He was searching his mind for a reply when she suddenly clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes widening.

“I mean,” she said, laughing nervously, “not that you look like a guy or anything. Just that you could be related.”

Ash’s eyebrows flew up in surprise. Huh. And she called him dense.

Angie and her friends snickered, and Misty flushed. He still needed to get on her good side—on everyone’s good side, actually, if he was going to carry this off successfully. So he tried to help her recover from her blunder. Let’s see, how would a girl reply to this?

“I don’t mind,” he said, “as long as he’s cute.” He grinned to himself...strangely enough, Brock could be right again. It would be fun to figure out how Misty talked about him when he wasn’t around...wait, why was she still blushing?

She shrugged, smiled, and said, “Well, I wouldn’t tell him that, but...”

Huh?!

Ash was sufficiently startled—had Misty just called him cute?—that he almost missed when Misty continued speaking. “By the way, I’m Misty,” she added, and Ash remembered that he wasn’t supposed to know her.

“Hi,” he squeaked, and his voice was even higher than he intended it to be. Gosh, it was warm down here, his face was burning. This was going to be a weird night. Not that he didn’t already know that...

“You can call her Mist,” Angie informed him, “and let me introduce you to the others. That’s Jess, Natty, and Zildy. I’ll let you guess what they’re short for...especially Zildy.” She grinned.

“Nice to meet you,” Ash said, and the other girls said hi or waved and then turned their attention back to the movie. Misty smiled at him again, though, before she did, making him flush once more. Lucky for him, she didn’t appear to notice as she curled up with a pillow and watched the TV with an almost wistful expression. Ash was struck with how small and lonely she looked there—he realized with a jolt that he and Brock had automatically assumed she was going to have fun tonight. But was she...?

Of course she was. He was just paranoid because he was wearing a dress. But ...once he had gotten some pizza, and Angie (despite the look she gave him for getting four slices) acted the gracious host by pouring a drink, he walked over to the sofa and sat down next to Misty. In spite of her uncharacteristic candor, she was still the only one he knew, and it was least awkward that way. Misty smiled and sat up to give him more room.

“Thanks,” he said, attempting to speak lower so that he didn’t interrupt the movie and maintain his girlish voice at the same time. The result made his throat sore. He nodded at the screen, trying not to yawn at the make-up bottles, curling irons, and panty hose displayed on screen. “What are we watching?” he asked.

“The Princess Diaries,” Misty said.

The Princess what? “Ew...” he began.

“What?” Misty gave him a startled look. Oh yeah. Girls liked random fairy tale stories.

“Uh...awwww!’” he said hastily. “I’ve been wanting to see this movie.”

Misty perked up. “Me too!” she whispered in a conspirative voice. “I felt silly when I was the only one who hadn’t seen it, but my two best friends are guys. I get overruled a lot of the time, you know?”

Ash was too busy trying not to smirk to answer. Misty was too stubborn to call him a best friend to his face, but it was amusing to see how nice she was to him when she didn’t know he was around. Of course, the feeling was mutual—but for once that night, he was the one with the upper hand. He just nodded they both settled back to watch the movie.

...Well, attempt to watch the movie. As he quickly discovered, girls never just watch a movie. They dissect it. He didn’t know why he had bothered being quiet earlier. Even as the movie was approaching what he would have thought would have been one of the climatic moments—for a girl, that is, guys could care less about a screen kiss—there was a steady stream of chatter. Right before the guy and girl’s lips met—

“Look at his pimple!” one of the girls shrieked, laughing into her pillow. He racked his brain; he was never good with names. Jess, he thought it was. Jess turned to Zippy—no wait, that sounded like a Disney song, Jess’s friend was Zildy—and they exchanged a girl-type moment as they wrinkled their noses at each other.

“Man, she has big feet,” Angie said, not even answering Jess as the next screen shot was a close-up of the girl’s feet. Ash wasn’t sure why this camera angle was important to the plot, but it must have been the shoes, because as soon it showed,

“Cool sandals, though,” Zildy said. Ash took a moment to puzzle over girls and their obsession with footwear. He liked his sneakers too, but he wouldn’t feature them in a movie.

Ash tuned them out for most of the rest of the movie—it was just as well, all that girl stuff was putting his mind in a daze anyway. Come to think of it, at the rate things were going, it was astonishing he hadn’t tranced out earlier. He tried to act alert when the movie finished and they started discussing it. Considering they had already talked throughout the whole movie, though, Ash wondered when they had had time to figure out the plot. It may have helped that they weren’t exactly talking about the plot...

“Wasn’t that the prettiest dress she was wearing? I want one just like it when I go to prom,” Angie sighed. Ash didn’t know what prom was, but didn’t bother asking. More than likely it wasn’t going to be a pokémon competition.

“Oh, you’d look good in a dress like that, Angie,” Natty complimented, and the other girls nodded in agreement. But then again, Ash got the feeling that anything Angie said or did would be perfect to them.

“Well, I liked the dress she wore to the state banquet,” Misty said. “It was such a pretty blue.” Ash nodded because he thought he was supposed to and hoped no one remembered that he hadn’t even arrived by that point. But Jess gave Misty a critical once-over and shook her head.

“Nah. The color would clash with your hair,” she said. Ash looked to see Misty’s reaction, and it was as he thought—she looked bugged. But there was a hint of sadness to her annoyance. He was probably just imagining things, but he wondered again if she was having any fun. The only time he’d seen her smile was when she was talking to him.

“Maybe if it was white...” Ash offered hesitantly, and Misty looked over at him, still not smiling, but at least willing to listen. “Kinda...like, um, a wedding dress?”

That worked. Girls could be always be counted on to talk about babies and weddings, not necessarily in that order. Misty brightened immediately. “Yeah!” she said. A soft smile played about her lips, and he knew she was daydreaming—he should know, she definitely did enough of that on their journeys. But then she directed her attention to him. “You’re right. Thanks.” She smiled at him, and he felt really warm again. Was it him, or did Angie need to fix that thermostat?

Angie herself was thinking. Ash could practically see the light bulb go off above her head as she slammed her palm down on one of her pillows and looked at them emphatically.

“I have an idea!” she said. Uh-oh...she sounded exactly like Brock had, right before Ash had been forced to wear a bra. Nothing good could come of this. “Let’s have our own make-overs!”

Make-overs...involved make-up, didn’t they? Boy, those two were made for each other...too bad for Angie that Brock would be dead by the time he finished with him!

His was the only less than welcome reception. “Wow!” Zildy said, sighing in happiness. Zildy was the most admiring of the mob...err, other girls. “I’ll help you, okay, Angie?”

“All right!” Jess said. She looked around and her eyes settled on one of the other guests. “Partners, Natty?”

Misty looked over at him. “I guess that leaves us,” she said good-naturedly.

But he already had a make-over...Ash gave a quick shake of the head and then nodded reluctantly and reminded himself that he was supposed to be excited about this.

Angie went to the bathroom to get her make-up case, and everyone else pulled out their cosmetic bags, except for Ash...and Misty. She looked distinctly ill at ease. “I forgot...I left mine at home...” she said uncomfortably.

There was a way out of this thing, after all. He tried not to act too relieved. “I did too,” he admitted...well, failing to admit that he didn’t have one in the first place.

“Oh, do you need some?” Angie said. She brought what looked like a large pocketbook over to them. “My mom’s an Avon lady, we’ve got plenty!” she said cheerfully.

Drat.

Ash gazed at the vials and compacts in front of him with a look that was a combination of fear and distaste as Misty arranged bottles of nail polish to her heart’s content. “I think you’re a winter,” she told him, holding one particular shade to his skin for comparison.

“A what?”

“Cool shades look good on you,” she told him. “They have blue as a base,” she said in response to his blank look. “Like this. See?”

“That’s pink,” he told her, and she looked at him in exasperation.

“I swear, that was something like my Ash would say,” she told him. He blinked. Her Ash? He supposed she had to have some way to tell ‘them’ apart, but that sounded remarkably affectionate. As did the giggle she gave after she said it.

“I don’t wear make-up very much,” he said. As in, never. Minus that picture of him playing with his mom’s lipstick when he was eighteenth months old...he paled at the thought of someone like Brock finding it. He really should find and destroy that picture before it fell into the wrong hands...

“Oh, then do you care if I teach you?” Misty asked. Ash couldn’t really do anything but shrug and watch helplessly as Misty made a fool out of him yet again. She picked up a headband and took it upon herself to adjust Ash’s hair for him. As her hands brushed the side of his face, he nearly jumped out of his skin. He wasn’t expecting them to be so soft...and warm...

“Your hair is pretty,” she said, and Ash was startled out of his trance.

Thanks, it’s not mine—no, he couldn’t say that. “I like yours too,” he told her.

She made a face. “My sisters always used to make fun of me,” she said. “They said I was hot-haired and hotheaded.”

Boy, did he wish he could use that against her sometime. But ‘Ashley’ had to be a good little girl...

“But yours is different,” he told her. She frowned, and he realized she may not have taken that as a compliment. “I mean, you look like...like...” What else did girls like besides babies and brides? “...a model.”

“Really?” she said, obviously both surprised and pleased as she brushed a lock of her own hair behind an ear self-consciously.

“Yeah. Especially when you wear it down,” he added sincerely. Misty tilted her head to the side, confused, and belatedly Ash remembered that since Misty had had her hair in a ponytail all night, he wasn’t supposed to know that. “That is, I think it would look good that way,” he added in a rush. He fidgeted with the collar of his dress nervously. Man, he was really burning up...and his bra itched...

Misty ignored his discomfort. “Thanks,” she said, giving him another one of her smiles, then picked up one of the torture devices...make-up brush, close enough. “Here, close your eyes, I’m going to put some eyeshadow on you. Do you like this color? It will bring out your eyes.”

It was brown...Ash looked at it suspiciously. Wasn’t all eyeshadow blue? Was Misty playing a trick on him? “I...guess...” he said uncertainly.

“Close your eyes,” she reminded him.

He did, slowly. After a moment he felt the softest pressure of a brush on his eyelid. He twitched.

“Don’t move,” she scolded him, and he sucked in his breath and told himself to calm down. But it felt weird...he was getting goosebumps, and he wasn’t sure if it was the idea of wearing make-up, or the idea of Misty applying his make-up, that was causing them.

“There,” she said in satisfaction, and he opened his eyes. He tried to look at the little hand mirror Misty had laid out, but she saw him doing it and hid it. “Nope, not until we finish,” she said cheerfully. He caught himself before he sighed out loud.

“Now do this,” she said, and puckered her lips so that she looked like a fish. He twisted his lips into a weird smile instead, prompting her to explain, “It highlights your cheekbones so that I can put blush on them.” He had to give her credit. He never knew putting on make-up was so involved.

He puckered his lips, feeling extremely ridiculous as he did, and Misty carefully applied a layer of blush. “Now keep them puckered,” she said, and picked up a tube of lipstick.

But he unpuckered them long enough to give a weak protest, “I have lip gloss.”

“Oh, this is lip gloss,” she said, showing him the tube. “It just has a pink tint to it. Is that okay?”

No, it wasn’t. “Sure,” he said. Might as well complete the torture. He held himself perfectly still again as Misty painted his lips.

“Done!” she said and, acting as though she was handing him a scepter instead of a toiletry item, ceremoniously passed the mirror to him. She smiled at him. “What do you think?”

He picked up the mirror, gave it a wary look, then gathered his courage and looked in the mirror. Oh...dear...mercy. He really, honestly and truly, looked like...a...

Girl.

He blinked, searching for the most tactful way to avoid the question. “I...”

“PILLOW FIGHT!”

The shout covered the sound of his voice even to his own ears, and he felt a whack! right against the side of his head. There was strange savior, if not exactly fair. Angie and Zildy had teamed up to tackle an unarmed Ash and Misty, and Jess and Natty, after seeing what was going on, quickly joined in.

“Ash, catch!” Misty shrieked, laughing, as she tossed him a pillow, then turned her attention to pounding her nearest assailant. He grinned to himself; he knew from experience that she could take care of herself in a pillow fight. Not that he was all that shabby, either; he deftly caught the pillow in one hand, lifted it to throw at someone—only to get whacked upside the head again before he could defend himself.

His vision was suddenly obscured by his hair. Before it had time to register, he got hit once more. With time moving surrealistically slow, he felt himself begin to panic as his wig shifted and began to fall off.



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Sorry this was late, --''' couldn't get computer off sis without force and I rather not do that ^^'''.