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A cool wind blew through the air, bringing with it much needed relief from the hot humidity. The tree branches swayed in the breeze as if performing a choreographed dance. All around, wildlife paused in silent testimony to the beauty of nature, which had been so savage only about two weeks earlier. This quiet serene moment was is direct contrast to the howling, fierce thunderstorm, the worst in years, which had preceded it.
A storm that had been hardly noticed by the young man standing slightly lopsided on the porch. He breathed deeply, leaning heavily on a pair of crutches. It had been quite a chore to get downstairs. Pain shot like fire through his left leg. James clenched his teeth. Two weeks! It had been two weeks since he had been shot. Apparently, the bullet didn't only graze his leg like he had thought. It had actually gone through part of his leg. Two weeks and he was barely able to get down the stairs. He shook head and sat down gingerly on a swinging loveseat hanging from the porch rafters. He sighed and rested his chin in his cupped hand leaning against the arm of the chair.
There I go again, thought James with another sigh, falling into melancholy. He missed Jessie. It was annoying, being left behind like he was. He hated having her run the jobs by herself. It was dangerous enough with two. But, he knew he would just be a liability now. He was useless. James groaned and let his head fall back as he leaned against the chair.
"Surely it's not bad as all that."
James reacted like lightening. He had his gun out of the holster, in his hand, and aimed at the speaker's heart faster than a rattatat would run when faced down with a meowth. The speaker raised his arms to show he was without weapons. James didn't care. He tightened his finger around the trigger anyway. Honor was dead.
"Easy, lad." The figure stepped out of the shadows. James immediately recognized him. "Just your ol' buddy Gengiess."
James lowered the gun into his lap and forced a smile. Gengiess was a good friend, true, but it had been beat into him over and over again that you couldn't trust anyone. Ever. Except Jess. He's trust her with his life and soul. But that was different.
"So, are you here to pity me? Maybe mock me?"
"Come on, James," sighed Gengiess as he sat down next to him on the loveseat. It swung and creaked under his weight. Gengiess was a big guy - over six feet tall. He had short brown hair that stood out in all directions on top of his head. On his face he bore a number of scars - badges of his existence. He had one brown eye and one green eye, both hard from experience. Gengiess wasn't ugly by any means. He had rugged good looks, as opposed to James' more noble face. James had a feeling Gengiess was in his late thirties, but it was hard to tell. There was not an pound of fat on him, everything being muscle. His arms and legs were as big around as logs. A large callused hand rested on James' shoulder as Gengiess administered what he believed to be a comforting gesture. Gengiess' mere presence made James feel even more inadequate, small, and useless. It must have shown in his face because Gengiess cleared his throat suddenly and dropped his hand to his lap.
"So, how are you feeling?" asked Gengiess after a minute, tapping James on the chest in a friendly sorta way.
"Do you really want to know, or do you want me to make something up?"
"Tell me straight, kid."
"Okaaay," began James with a sigh. He sat back and closed his eyes. "I feel like I got hit by a truck. My leg hurts, it's taking too long to heal for my tastes, I'm bored, I'm lonely, I'm worried about Jess, and God, I'm depressed."
"That all?"
"No," said James, opening his eyes and looking Gengiess right in the eyes. "I've really gotta take a leak and I can't get upstairs."
Gengiess blinked a moment, then laughed. "Now that, I can help you with, kid!" Before James could react, Gengiess swept him into his arms, mindful of the offending, bandaged leg and carried him into the cabin that was a Team Rocket Hideaway.
Sometime later...
James stared despondently into an half-empty coffee cup. He stirred the bitter drink with a teaspoon a few times, listening to the clinking sound. He sighed softly and looked up.
Gengiess was fussing around the kitchen. He had made the coffee earlier and was still puzzled as to why it came out so watery. In a last ditch effort, he added his secret ingredient - the ultimate cure-all for 'anything that ails ya', as he would say - scotch. James took another long pull of the coffee, pleased with the way it warmed his stomach.
Gengiess poured himself a cup (minus the coffee) and sat down across the table. He smiled at James and refilled his mug. Gengiess had a soft spot for the kid, even if he had passed him up in a number of training issues. James was an amazing boy. He could shoot well, drive well, was a master of disguise, and a great actor. Not to mention the fact that he had a great girl like Jessie. Or was it Jessie that had him? Gengiess was torn on that point.
An uncomfortable silence fell between the two. Gengiess was a fighter, a mercenary. Talking about things wasn't easy for him. But, he'd made the effort to come out here to thank his savior, so he might as well get it over with. He cleared his throat and James looked up.
"Well, kid," he began gruffly, "I don't know how to say this. Two weeks ago, when we were told to rob the NightStone facility, I didn't know what to expect. We hadn't hit it in a long time and had very little information on the type of security systems and manpower that it had. The plan we had seemed simple. Spunks would go in and grab the goods and also create a decoy. One of us would get the fake one and one of us the real stuff. The trick was, we couldn't know which one was which. If - no, when we started to come under heavy fire, the Joe with the decoy couldn't act like his package didn't matter. So, I didn't know if I had the goods or not." Gengiess paused. Tactical information he could do. Now, came the hard part.
"I know you volunteered for that mission. Without you, I couldn't have gotten away. I'm sorry that you got hurt." Gengiess paused again and made sure he had James' eyes. "Thank you."
James was starting to feel a little tipsy from the coffee. But the impact of what Gengiess had said hit him hard. He forced a cheerful smile and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.
"No problem, Geng. Think nothing of it." James countenance fell a second later. He stared back at his coffee cup. Another silence fell between the two.
"You know," began James after a minute, looking up at Gengiess' face, "I almost killed myself over bag of rocks." James thought for a minute he might laugh, but held it in because he feared the laugh might sound hysterical. He chewed his lip and looked down instead, feeling his emotions bubble up inside of him. He hated the way he was losing control. Finally, he gave up. He folded his hands on the table, cradled his head in his arms, and broke down into uncontrollable sobbing. Gengiess just sat there and watched him.
After awhile, James had grown silent. Gengiess stood up and rested his hand on the kid's back. His breathing was slow and easy. Asleep. Careful not to wake him, Gengiess carried James upstairs, tucked him into bed, and quietly left Team Rocket Head Quarters.
Later that Night...
Jessie padded silently into her and James' room. James was asleep in bed, still wearing his clothes. Jessie sighed a shook her head. Walking over to the dresser, she pulled out her soft, cotton pajama pants and a white tank top. She changed quickly and folded her Team Rocket outfit neatly, then tossed it into the hamper. Tomorrow was laundry day, that much was certain.
She crept quietly over to the bed and turned back the covers, slipping carefully under the sheets so as not to wake her partner. She rolled over on her side, facing away from James and closed her eyes. Suddenly, the bed moved and she found herself tightly wrapped in an embrace from behind.
"Sorry," whispered Jessie, turning over on her back to look at James. "I didn't mean to wake you." James said nothing, mearly studied her face in the low light of the bedroom. He caressed her cheek with his soft hand, then kissed her slowly on the lips. After what seemed a much too short time interval, though it must have been several minutes, James broke the kiss and met Jessie's eyes with his own.
"I love you," he whispered, pushing her hair away from her face with his hand. "I love you so much. I don't ever want to lose you."
Jessie caught his hand in hers and brought it to her lips, kissing it tenderly.
"You won't," she replied softly and kissed him again. Inside the cabin, it was warm, safe - comfortable. Outside, the wind began to blow. It was cold and strong - the tale-tell sign of another storm on the way.