"There comes a point in every teammate's life where you wonder how much your trainer loves you. It's a question that gets asked and answered in smaller ways every day when they show they care for how you feel or promptly get you an Antidote instead of making you wait to get treated at a Clinic for free. Then sometimes it gets asked in bigger ways, like if some rich kid offers to pay them a fortune for a championship-winning teammate instead of doing the work to train one themselves. And at least once in your lifetimes there will be the moments that truly define what you are. If they willingly choose to endure hardship or pain for your sake or to trust you utterly in a situation when they need to do what you say for once. Whatever happens then will mark the rest of your lives together - or apart."

"But if you're together long enough and if you're...'compatible' in certain ways...there's something about that question that builds up in your mind on a much deeper level. Full-blooded humans don't 'grow up' quite the same. They usually tend to move on to new things after a while even if they used to them love very much or even if moving on is a bad decision. That's why they start drinking sake instead of soda or why they 'divorce' the one they called their lifemate for years after some petty squabble. So no matter how many competitions you win or how much they say they care about you the question becomes like a voice that starts off as a whisper but gets louder over time. When will it happen? What day will it be when they finally say you're parting ways? Always in the back of your head is that little ghost haunting your every day that not even a chestful of ribbons and a backpack full of money can dispel. And so eventually you'll break. Especially if you have psychic abilities like us Gardevoir and can't help but hear their thoughts. You'll go mad trying to guess their intentions for the future or what they really think deep inside."

"For me the tipping point was one warm spring afternoon that the unanswered question finally came crashing through the mental defenses I'd carefully built up. A violent storm had torn through the city the night before and knocked out the electricity. We'd spent the night in the bathroom with flashlights as the wind howled around us. He hated storms as much as he feared them. A childhood full of nights interrupted by the wailing of tornado sirens, rushing pell-mell to the basement with one's parents and siblings tends to do that. So as we huddled in the only room in the apartment without a window I thought he might say something at long last. Reading between the lines of the fear he bravely tried to hide from me, I could tell he appreciated that I was with him and that he was far more worried about my safety. His parents' traditional upbringing had given him a 'white knight' attitude of old toward women over the years, even ones that weren't human. While he could - and had - ignored a wound that was pouring blood down his arm he would have been beside himself if I was hurt in the least because of the storm. I waited until we finally laid down in our sleeping bags, too tired even to stay awake from the cacophony of nature's wrath. The last thought he had that night was 'I care about you a lot, Slyvie', and I faintly hoped that when he awoke he might say more."

"But the next morning the power was back on...and everything was back to normal. He was up early to make our favorite breakfast (how that man got me so addicted to egg tortillas I'll never understand), check his computer for messages, impeccably dress for the new job he'd worked so hard to get and be off in plenty of time. And after I waved goodbye to him in the parking lot I was left alone yet again with the bitter irony of my heart broken even though he hadn't raised his voice or a finger at me. Nothing had changed. My part-time job I had just for a little spending money wouldn't start until half the day later. For a couple hours I wandered as aimlessly as a stray cat around the neighborhood. I don't even quite remember where all I went. All I could think about was how my question had gone unanswered yet again. The next thing that I clearly remember was coming back through the front door and my eyes falling on the display case with all the awards we'd won together."

"And that was how he found me that day...sitting on the floor with my hair unbrushed and my dress rumpled all around me, staring at the Pokeball I hadn't used in years except for the rare emergency. After all this time keeping my turbulent emotions in check to deny my own turmoil as much as avoid upsetting had broken me completely. I could keep up my calm facade no more. So there I sat, or rather half-sat and half-collapsed, too upset to even cry like I wanted to."

"We had been together for twenty years since that day so long ago when his parents took him to adopt me as a little Kirlia. It spoke to how much they made me a part of their family that I remembered almost nothing about those awful days alone at the shelter, after a Ranger found me in the arms of the mother who'd died fending off a pack of wild Pokemon. From the time we were first together he treated me more like a sister than a teammate; and in turn I'd learned not just to trust him but that I could openly challenge him to improve as a person. I met his friends and competed in contests to bring awards for the both of us, which he never failed to praise me for. More times than I could count he'd congratulated or thanked me even when I had to rebuke him for being lazy or for some thoughtless action. He cared for me when I was sick. Somewhat to the bewilderment of his parents, he insisted I learn in school alongside him. And he'd refused to trade me for any price to anyone...even to the point of violence against his own kind when one arrogant trainer tried to force him. We still never spoke of what had happened on a lonely road that fateful day; it was a burden we had silently agreed to carry to our graves."

"But as much as he cared for me in so many ways - he'd never said he loved me. From the day he learned to talk psychically I waited to feel that special bond coming back from him, but it never came. And as he grew from a boy to a man and girls went from 'icky' to interesting, I found my affection for him taking second place. Then one night he came home practically levitating in happiness from a date that had gone well with a human girl whose name I barely even knew. When he went off to work the next morning I started to get more and more melancholy until I simply took my Pokeball from the cabinet and sat in a heap, trying to think what I had done wrong. I remembered every journey, every gym badge and every battle that went wrong. I didn't make a sound or move a muscle until he suddenly came in the door at a run."

"Slyvie, you're so sad I felt you before I even got to the front door! Please tell me what in the name of Arceus is wrong?"

"Of course I was both startled and embarrassed to have him see me in such a state. But at his gentle words I heard a tiny flicker of hope. 'Felt'. He'd *felt* my distress psychically, which meant he'd kept up the training that had been so hard for him. And the minute he'd felt it, he had come running to me. I knew he cared from that and the worried look on his face as his emerald green eyes looked into mine...I saw the same adorable little boy who used to look up and ask me if his drawings were good or if I could teach him to 'do magic'. Human girls or no human girls, there was something about him that was still the same - but something that could change forever in a heartbeat."

"And so in that moment I risked everything. I put my whole heart and soul into five simple words."

"Master, do you love me?"

"He stayed by me for a minute without saying a word. Like he hadn't been shocked by my question but never thought it might come or what it would mean for us. So suddenly he picked me up, dress and all, to sit on the bed drying my tears as well as his own while we clung to each other like a drowning man to a life raft. All the silly things that meant so much to us day to day were all suddenly of no matter. So many things that a human girl would think important I couldn't care less about. All I ever wanted had both his arms around me as I shivered like a leaf in a breeze from long-hidden worry and fear releasing themselves, singing the same song we'd known since childhood."

Then he looked into my eyes in a way that made my heart flutter and whispered as softly as he could.

"Don't call me 'master'. I've always told you that you're not a slave and I'm not your master. And anyway, it'll sound bad when we go on dates."

All I remember of the day after that was letting out a half-strangled squeal and falling into his embrace. It wasn't the first time he'd caught me as I fell...but it was the first time he held me and looked at me in a truly different way. And it was only the first time of many more.

Now as I lie by his side in the cool of the night, I see his face half-lit by the moonlight coming through the window. Somehow it seems even more handsome than on that glorious day when my burning question was been answered in the way I'd hoped it would be. I see the mischievous faint smile of the practical joker I've known all my life, with the gentle green eyes that sparkle like flawless emeralds every time he looks at me, closed in contented sleep. It took us an entire quarter of a century to get here. But here we are all the same. First we were young teammates out to conquer the world. Now we've become best friends against whatever the world can throw at us."

I'll wait until the weekend to tell my love that we're going to be parents. Because if I tell him before that, I know him well enough to know that he'll go into work looking like he saw a Gengar in his sock drawer. We deserve a couple days to celebrate this new part in our lives together without being barraged by questions from the in-laws or congratulations from our friends. Because as much as I love him...he's just hopeless at keeping secrets."

"Especially once I tell him we're having twins."

"Gardevoir" and all other recognizable names, places, items etc. of the Pokemon franchise are copyright Nintendo of America.

Inspired by "Sad!" by Slugbox's original artwork at art/Sad-305293349