So I couldn't wait to start seeing fanfiction pop up and thought I would kick it off with one of my older pieces. I do plan on trying to start again with some new material, though everything I've written for FFnet has been Rocket-related. You'll probably see me barraging the Adult section more then the general fanfiction, but I've always felt pretty good about this piece. Comments and/or critiques are always welcomed.
Rumor Has It
Rated: Teen
Pairings: Rumishipping (JamesxJessiebelle), Rocketshipping (JamesxJessie), OC/OC
Warnings: Brief and/or vague references to sexual activities. Jessiebelle.
Status: One-shot. Complete.
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"And so I told him that a lady of my breeding simply couldn't go around flaunting her haunches like some scarlet woman from one of those brazen novels…you know the type, Clarice. Oh shut your mouth. I know you do because I found one of those naughty, knicker-wetting novels in your valise just this summer when we went to the lake house," said Lydia, stirring her tea with her spoon and ignoring the look of utter horror on her blonde friend's face.
"That…I…that was…it was probably Nana's!" Clarice exclaimed, clutching her white gown in her plump fingers and crinkling the material into balls in her palm.
Snorting, Lydia cast Clarice a look of utter distaste. "Everyone knows your Nana can't read, Clarice."
Jessiebelle smirked from her seat upon the ottoman while silently fingering her tea cup with dainty fingers. While Clarice and Lydia were hardly bosom buddy material, they were useful for standing beside at balls when Jessiebelle intended to look more gorgeous than usual. Clarice had a subtle beauty in her face that was entirely destroyed by consuming cakes and candies and cookies by the dozen. She was the tiniest at her feet and always wore the most hideous, unfashionable slipper-like shoes to try and emphasize such a fact. As for Lydia, there could not have been a more unfortunate woman. At the age of twenty-nine, she was still not betrothed and was unlikely to be in the near future. Her black hair was already lined with white creases and was pulled so tightly back from her forehead that her entire face suffered. With such beady eyes and such a thin nose, she appeared every bit like a Stantler.
She often wondered how they bore it…being beside her beauty and having none for their own.
"Lydia!" Clarice squeaked, popping her tiny feet up and down on the wooden floors in a fit. "You are ever so mean to me! Is she not being the most unfair creature on this earth, Jessiebelle?"
Coughing lightly, the redhead looked up. "Such smut will rot your brain, Clarice. I must concur with Lydia."
The bouncing blonde looked absolutely aghast and Lydia let out a shrill laugh. A small part of Jessiebelle almost felt sorry for Clarice. She would have been ashamed to admit that a number of those horrid novels even now sat hidden underneath her bed in an empty hat box. She had found them at some rundown library that her parents were attempting to restore as a humanitarian effort. And while she cared nothing for the storylines, which were silly and utterly improbable at the very best of times, she could not help but mark several pages that she returned to when the nights were at their darkest and her parents and the rest of the households had retired. In the lustful looks and the tender touches of the heroes and their beloved heroines, Jessiebelle became utterly lost. Every story was eventually fitted to her needs with a sharpie and her rampant imagination…the lover with blue hair grazing his shoulders and shielding his fiery green eyes and the woman with red curls. Oh how she had blushed! Oh how she had dreamed over and over again of James fitting his mouth to her own or running his fingers through her hair or touching her willingly and wantonly. A sweltering sensation overtook her body at the mere thought of it all.
Sighing and finding no companion to come to her defense, Clarice changed the subject. "Did you hear of the ball the Bingleys will be holding next Sunday? I heard there will be no less than twenty eligible bachelors there! Will we not be the most happiest of all the women, my Lydia and my dearest Jessiebelle?"
A tension rose in the air. Lydia licked her thin lips carefully before setting her cup on the tiny table set in the middle of the room. "Undoubtedly. I am under the impression that Sir Edward Dunnavant will be attending…and your dear Archibald, Clarice."
"Archibald! Oh, Archibald!" Clarice cried, fanning herself with her hand. "And yes! Your Edward! What joys! His whiskers have grown a most handsome silver since the last time we saw him!"
Jessiebelle could not contain a snort. "Dunnavant? Why he can't be a day younger than forty-six."
A lesser woman would have been sporting holes in the back of her head from the look in Lydia's dark eyes. Jessiebelle merely sipped on her tea. Clarice, whom for all her education could no more tell Plato from Pliny, gasped.
"But, Jessiebelle! Were you not invited to Edward's lush birthday celebration? He has just turned forty-three, you foolish thing!"
"Silence, Clarice!" Lydia shouted, shaking slightly with her fury. Shrinking in her chair, the blonde sunk her hands in between her knees and sulked. Composing herself and sporting a rather mischievous grin, Lydia turned back to Jessiebelle. "And who is your beau as of late, Belle? We haven't heard a thing from your side in a while."
She sniffed. "That's because I am as good as a married woman, Lydia. Yah know as well as I do that I am betrothed to James Rochester."
"Oh! I heard he's devilishly rich," said Clarice.
"That's not all I've heard," sniped Lydia, her entire body stiffening for an attack. "I heard he ran off. Left his family for good. I also heard that he has been cavorting with a redheaded woman with no prospects and no title to her name."
Clarice leaned forward in her chair until Jessiebelle was sure she would fall out of it. "Ran away? My! My! I had always heard that he was travelling the country!"
"For the past ten plus years? Really, Claire!" Lydia screamed.
"I heard it from his own mother's mouth!" said the blonde.
Lydia scoffed. "Of course you did, you blithering dolt. What else would she tell you?"
The entire time Jessiebelle had sat stunned and silenced with fear. Then the dark-haired harpy turned to her once more with accusing eyes and she had no choice but to respond. "Dear, Lydia, I have no idea where you obtained such erroneous information, but I can assure you that James and I
will be married."
Lydia sat there as if expecting more with that ghastly half-pleased, half-teasing smile on her face. "And the girl?"
"I have no knowledge of such a person. I can only assume that my dearest has acquired a maid to assist him with…"
"Yes, she's been doing a lot of assisting as it seems," Lydia cut in, smirking. The room went quiet save the sound of Clarice nibbling upon a crumpet. And then the blonde seemed to sink into the conversation like a log and she tilted her head to the side.
"I must take Jessiebelle's side here, Lyds," she said, smacking her lips and ignoring the crumbs of crumpet dotting the outside of her mouth. "Without proof, your story seems like nothing but pure scandalous riff raff."
Pursing her lips into a tight smile, Lydia reached for a bell sitting atop a small stand beside the loveseat and rang it three times. The shrill noise made Jessiebelle jump and brought one of the butlers into the room with a grand salute.
Lydia's smile was bright and brittle. "Johannes, please bring me the Poké Times from Monday, if you would be so kind."
"As you wish, Miss Heartley," Johannes replied, bowing once to each woman present and dashing off again.
Jessiebelle did not falter for a second. Her eyes remained steadily trained to the window even when Clarice huffed impatiently at her side.
"Lydia! Whatever are you all about? The Poké Times? I want to talk about the ball!"
Without shifting her gaze, Jessiebelle knew Lydia's eyes stayed securely on her. "You will see in a moment, Clari…yes, Johannes! My many thanks."
In a flash, the tray was presented to her and the newspaper peeled off from the silver platter. Johannes bowed again and left again and the sound of the door shutting might as well have been the sound of a coffin closing to Jessiebelle's ears. Lydia made a grand display of running her fingers across each article before opening the paper wide and settling her eyes upon the middle of the page.
"Ah yes. I knew it was in here somewhere. Ehem…'James Rochester and Jessica Morgan of the crime syndicate known as Team Rocket were arrested Sunday afternoon following a failed burgla…'"
"Team Rocket!" said Clarice, holding her hands to her mouth and casting a horrified look in Jessiebelle's direction.
"Did I stutter? Really? Must you interrupt everything I say? Worrisome Chatot," Lydia spat, knitting her brows together in a deep frown. "I could and probably should go on, but I believe the lovely photograph that accompanies the article should corroborate my story. If you would, ladies."
With those four little words, Lydia creased the paper at its spine and turned the offending page into the light of the room. Smack in the middle of the page was a black and white photo of James and Jessie as they had stood as they recited their motto. Not an inch could be found between their cheeks and their fingers meshed together as they held their hands out toward the camera. James's free hand could be seen settled on Jessie's exposed midriff, but the girl was no better. Her hand rested on his belt and the pad of her gloved thumb hooked itself over and into his pants. They sported identical looks of fierce determination in their eyes and their lips both smiled slyly as if they shared a secret none but they could ever know.
Before she even had time to truly process the picture in its entirety, Clarice was wailing. "Stars and swift attacks! My smelling salts…I need my smelling salts! Oh the impropriety!"
Lydia crumpled the paper against the loveseat as her hand smacked the pillows. "Shush! If anyone should be fainting here, it's Jessiebelle! You weren't engaged to him!"
Her lips quivering and her eyes turning to her redheaded friend, Clarice whimpered. "Her grubby hands are all over him! Oh, Jessiebelle!" With that, the girl threw herself to the floor beside Jessiebelle with a plop and began to cry and create a ruckus.
"Do contain yahself, dah," Jessiebelle said, flicking her hair back with a cool smile. "The girl is of no consequence."
"No consequence?" Lydia snarfed. "Yes…I suppose your fiancé making the beast with two backs before he's wedded and to a nameless, no good nothing could be called a mere trifle. Don't be daft. He's as good as gone."
Jessiebelle laughed lightly. "Oh, Lydia. My Jameson is just workin' with the police to have her arrested. Could there not be a more obvious plot? Yah get worked up over the silliest things, dearie."
Clarice squealed. "Yes! Yes! The truth of the matter comes to light!"
Lydia's lips twitched into a sneering smile. "Mmm…yes. That makes ever so much more sense. I'm glad we got that all cleared up now."
Jade eyes met black ones in a simmering battle of wills. Neither let up…neither turned away or even blinked for several minutes that seemed to drag on for days.
"You know, Belle," said Clarice with a rather noisy shift on the floor, "if James
has run off and if I may be so bold…Charles is still…"
"No."
"But he is ever so fond of you! You haven't even read the sonnets he composed for…"
"
No."
"Oh but his flatulence problem is not nearly as noticeable as…"
"
NO!"
Clarice's mouth clamped shut as Jessiebelle's normally pale face colored to the shade of her dress.
"Charles," Lydia snorted, straightening out the newspaper with her spindly fingers. "I would throw myself off one of daddy's yachts and let Magikarp slowly gnaw at my bones before marrying your brother."
As if they'd debase themselves trying to swallow down such putrid meat, thought Jessiebelle with a raised nostril.
Letting her eyes rest on the utterly offensive photograph once more, Lydia sighed. "But really, Belle…wouldn't it be wiser to pursue a man who actually expresses interest in you? Charles might be out of the question, but I am sure that you could find some other beaux that are not as inept or immoral as your current options."
The laughter caught all three girls off guard. Jessiebelle could feel her entire body shake with the sensation and yet, at the very same time, she felt nothing at all. "I don't have options, sugah…I have James."
The other girls blinked at her stupidly and she sighed. This entire conversation was just a waste of her breath. What did she care if they believed her? She had James's entire family on her side. What more did she need? Their contract had been signed years and years before and was completely binding. Sure, he was a flighty, fidgety, and fumbling little thing, but she knew that he loved her deep within his heart where none but she and he could see. His time spent in Team Rocket would be exactly what he needed to realize that her constant companionship and devotion were exactly what he had always desired.
And yet…yet…
He'd come back to her at long last. She could have wept with joy if it had been ladylike. He looked exactly as he always had…so handsome yet so fragile. Yes, everything was exactly the way she had always imagined it.
Except for a grown woman and a mangy Meowth both bathed in shapeless black costumes.
And then all she could see was her – Jessie the Meowth had called her –and the exposed skin of her hand clasping her beloved's mouth. When he broke from her grasp, she could make out the girl's pointer finger grazing his parting lips and felt her insides churn. He'd made some protest…some meager attempt to escape. Back went the hand…back went the palm feeling the touch Jessiebelle alone deserved.
Then she was in Sinnoh…rushing out the front door at the first words out of Cheeves's mouth. The summer home had been abandoned along with a magazine left haphazardly dangling off a couch. One of those silly, girly magazines all the schoolgirls gathered over. Cheeves apologized a thousand times and happened to throw in that there just might
have been a woman with Master James. The Rochesters had shared a terrified glance at one another before turning to her.
And then there was the last time…the time that she had been closer than ever before to becoming Mrs. James Rochester…he was willing to go with her. They were about to start their lives together. He had innocently asked to say goodbye to his friends…why not humor him? He'd said his goodbyes to the children and walked toward her
. When his hand grasped hers without a single hesitation, the strangest sensation crossed her chest. She would liken it later, much later, to taking a knife straight to the heart. She saw pity in his eyes – yes, pity – and then the brat sent his Pikachu and his thunderbolts hurtling everywhere and she felt herself running to his side without the slightest hesitation.
There was pain so sharp and searing. It meant nothing. As soon as they landed, she threw herself into his arms and immediately felt as though she would vomit. He smelled…different. The scent was far too sweet and far too flirty to be his. No…
It was hers.
The smell had the same effect as a red cloak to a Tauros. Her head reeled…her skin itched…her entire body rejected the smell. Her silent fury gave James enough time to wriggle from her grasp and stumble to his feet. He gathered up Meowth in his arms and ran before she could regain her footing. And so the chase began…after a while, seemingly disappointed with his partner's speed, Meowth jumped down and began to run of his own accord several paces in front of James and the air was full of his cries to cease and desist. The air cut across her face and her heart raced. Just a little bit longer and he would tire…then she would use the strength of her love and cross the small space between them. She would capture him and…
A flash of red hair snapped in front of her line of sight. Her
.
"James!" Jessie cried.
"Get Sahvipah!" Meowth shouted, shaking his paws furiously about his head.
Jessie nodded and the next thing Jessiebelle knew was a horrible and overwhelming darkness. Spiraling to her knees, she reached out her fingers for her lover like a blind woman.
She heard Jessie's voice far closer than before. "James! Are you okay?"
"Yeah. We're alright now. Just don't stop running!"
She was losing him. She reached to her side and realized Vileplume had been left behind and her breath caught in her throat. Hurtling her body upward and lunging herself forward as if in a stupor, Jessiebelle managed to escape the smog just in time to see the retreating forms of the Rockets. She could make out his right hand firmly settled on her upper back. As if her gaze was palpable, he turned his head and their eyes met.
It was as if God himself was bestowing on her the most powerful and precious knowledge known to mankind.
Fear.
It was written in his eyes…in his frowning lips…in his entire face. He was afraid…afraid of her
. He followed her out of fear…he obeyed her out of fear…he remained with her and with Team Rocket out of fear. A calm washed over her like salve on a heated wound. Time was all she needed. He'll be mine yet…he'll be mine…he'll be mine…
"Belle?"
She awoke as if she'd been lost in a dream and the room came back in focus in a rush of frilly dresses and a frightening quiet. Clarice, whose small voice had somehow managed to penetrate her musings, was now seated beside Lydia with a fresh plate of crumpets in her lap. The shock on the girls' faces was heavy and made Lydia's cheeks seem ridiculously limp. Jessiebelle tilted her head and clenched as she felt her throat begin to itch.
"Glad you decided to join us…where were you?" said Lydia, blinking as if stunned.
Jessiebelle's mouth twitched and her eyes fell to where Lydia and Clarice's arms could be found clasping onto one another. But below them…
"Where did you say my James was arrested at again?"
The girl's swallow was hard and dry. "I didn't."
"I…I believe it was in Kanto," said Clarice. "Didn't the article say that, Lydia?"
"I believe you are correct, Clarice," said Lydia, relaxing slightly. "But enough about that pish posh…the ball…"
She didn't realize she was standing until she saw the girls looking up at her wearing identically confused faces. "I believe I will retire fah the day, if yah both don't mind."
Lydia frowned. "It's barely past noon! Why in the world would you…"
"Lydia. Weren't yah listening tah yahself at all? My fiancé is in trouble. As his future wife, it is my duty to be by his side through these toughest of times."
Eyes wide with alarm, Lydia struggled to keep her jaws from clenching. "Of course. Well…the best of luck to you."
"Yes," added Clarice. "The very best of luck."
"I do declare yah'll act as though I'm being foolish. Yah some silly things. I'll have Nigel start packin' my things then. Ta-ta!" And with that she was off and out the door before another eyelash blinked.
The two girls left in the drawing room looked at one another. Clarice shivered.
"Should we…I mean…if she's really…won't it look bad on
us?" she said, placing a plump hand at her chest. Lydia shrugged, though shakily.
"Let her go on wild goose chases and turn into another Maiden's Peak," Lydia returned, stiffening her lips in a thin line. "Every bit of attention off of her is attention that could go to us. And if she does decide to go after her own beaux again…well…we'll definitely look better by comparison, won't we?"
The blonde bounced up and down and smiled slightly. "Indeed! Indeed! Perhaps Archibald would even get some competition!"
A blush had barely enough time to creep across the girl's face before Lydia snorted. "I believe we've had enough ludicrous ideas for one day, don't you?"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jessiebelle smiled sweetly as the elderly Nigel heaved her suitcase upon his back with a huff.
"Thank yah kindly, Nigel. I'm assumin' yah retrieved the information I asked fah?"
Somehow the aid nodded and began a slow and torturous stamp toward the door. "Indeed, Miss Jessiebelle. Master James was taken into custody in Nimbasa City in the Unova region."
Had Nigel turned around at that moment, he would have seen the most feral smile sunk into his mistress's mouth. "Lovely. And the necessities?"
"Nail file…shovel…blowtorch…all packed. But I hardly see how they will be necessary, madam," said Nigel, taking the steps one at a time down the grand staircase.
"Mmm…well…one can never be too prepared, now can they?"
"Most assuredly. One cannot," Nigel replied, groaning as he settled his foot on the next wide platform.
There was enough room now so that Jessiebelle could walk past him freely. She did so and approached the front doors where Lydia was waiting with Johannes. It was a grim parting party with Johannes's long face and Lydia's horrendously dreary gown and its awkward lump of black lace at the neck. The girl held her arms open and Jessiebelle hugged her lightly before pulling back and curtseying.
"My sincerest apologies for my sudden departure, Lydia. I am in the highest hopes that I will call on ya within a couple weeks with my dear James," said Jessiebelle with a simper.
Lydia took in a deep breath and raised her shoulders. "I do hope so…Jessiebelle…you do know how I loved Parsifal…don't you?"
The redhead smiled brightly. "Of course I do, Lyds. I do believe that yah made ya affections known to everyone. How is his son, by the way? Eliza always had the widest hips…it couldn't have been a difficult birth. I daresay little Percy will have a playmate by this time next year."
Jumping as if slapped, Lydia opened her mouth and then promptly shut it. She lowered her head and glared at the floor. "I just wanted to warn you…it's not the same by any means, but…"
"What did you say? I must confess…I don't really get yah drift. Do try and train with someone…I can send my Millie over. She's a prune of a thing, but she'll teach you how to get yah words across real clear like," said Jessiebelle. Lydia merely closed her eyes and turned her head to the side.
"Johannes! The door, dear man!" cried Nigel, stumbling as he reached the floor and balancing himself just in time to keep from toppling over. Johannes, ever faithful, let the front doors open wide and came over to the other aid to take one side of the suitcase. As they managed to get out the door, Jessiebelle nodded.
"Yes. Well…we'll be calling on you soon, Lydia. Do thank your father for having me over. And dear Salvador must send the recipe for his crème brulee to one of our chefs. It was simply divine," she exclaimed.
A moment passed before Lydia nodded. "Indeed…indeed…have a safe trip, Belle."
"Thank yah, honey!"
And with that she was gone in a flourish of skirts and red curls. The limo took off down the driveway and Johannes returned and closed the front doors behind him.
"Is everything alright, Miss Heartley?" he asked, regarding her with kind eyes.
"It will be…won't it, Johannes? Everything always seems to work out the way it was supposed to…whether we can see the reason for it or not. Things are simply what they are…they can be nothing more and nothing less," she said, clasping her left hand over the right and curling her fingers into her skirt.
Johannes thought for a moment and nodded once. "Indeed. That is an astute observation, madam. But…if I may make my own observation…Miss Rittenhouse has inquired about dinner…again. I do believe she will eat us out of house and home."
Lydia let out a weak laugh. Her eyes never left the window where she could just make out Jessiebelle's limo turning out into the block. "An astute observation if there ever was one."
Edited by pokemypoke - 4/7/2012, 23:59
You caught her character and the posh, snubbery world around her very well. I also have to say that I like your writing style a lot 