Agent Limit

by Cortega

It was just after dethroning the Indigo Champion that Ash Ketchum vanished. Five years later, with Team Galactic and new Plasma joining forces to forge a terrible new world, a team of agents from the International Police rises to combat this new threat: five men strong they are, each one a powerful and deadly warrior... And one unlike any other, a man of thunder and steel. REVIEW!

4. Dead Ringer

Some of you may be confused about the order of time. Since the five regions plus Orre—at the time of this writing—are so disparate, each must have their own time zone. Here's how I've set it up.

Kanto Standard Time (KST) 12:00 AM

+5 Hours Hoenn Standard Time (HST) 5:00 AM

+4 Hours Sinnoh Standard Time (SST) 9:00 AM

+5 Hours Unova Standard Time (UST) 2:00 PM (14:00 Hours)

+6 Hours Orre Standard Time (OST) 8:00 PM (21:00 Hours)

+3 Hours Johto Standard Time (JST) 11:00 PM (23:00 Hours)

+1 Hour KST 12:00 AM

And remember people! REVIEWS MAKE ME WRITE FASTER! It's simple psychology: if I get more reviews, I remember to write more of this, leading me to write more of this, then publishing it so that you can write me more reviews. This continues cyclically until I either collapse out of sheer exhaustion or I finish the story. Hopefully the latter.

/

Chapter 3: Dead Ringer

Giant Chasm, Unova, 12:28 PM UST

Looker gazed over the crater with a wistful sigh, "Ah, I love the smell of acqua santa and napalm in the morning, [1]" He breathed, leaning on a tall wooden frame, tinkering with a pulley around which was wrapped a wire, leading away and sloping downward toward a similar frame on a tall pillar in the forest center.

N regarded his companion with some nervousness. His nervousness was due to the fact that he was sharing a ledge with Looker, which made him a prime target if a witch decided to target them. The fact that Looker had made him wear a mauve shirt did not comfort him in the least.

"Can I seriously take this off?" He asked, picking at the Starfleet logo embroidered on the fabric.

"Only if you want the fangirls to swarm you, Ensign," Looker coolly replied.

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

"It's fitting for you," Looker moved, crouching, to the precipice of the ledge, scanning the area around before looking down to see if there was a haystack down below. Disappointed that he wouldn't be able to execute a Leap of Faith here, Looker moved back, "The locals couldn't tell us anything more than 'it's down there?'"

N shrugged, "Nobody who went down there's come back yet."

"How utterly cliché," Looker murmured dryly, turning his head to survey the landscape of forest and stone, "Do you think that I'll be able to absorb whatever she throws at me?"

"I would hope so," N answered, shrugging a second time.

Looker hummed to himself for a moment, "The ruins still stand. Are the zip-lines sturdy enough for use?"

N shrugged again, "I don't possess a hookblade, so I can't tell."

Looker grinned roguishly, "Eh, fuck it; only one way to find out."

He took a running start, and leapt.

0000000000

No. 12, Rue de Plumet, Pallet Town, Kanto, 8:29 PM KST

Paul glared balefully at the group that was, miraculously, still sitting in the living room, "Don't you people have jobs or something?"

A resounding "no" was the answer.

Legend had finished polishing the fifth of her twenty-seven rifles, and was currently moderating a game of "Twenty Questions," with Haro as the Answerer.

"Is it larger than a house?" Dawn asked.

"Answer is both/neither affirmative and/nor negative."

"Is it a warm color?" Misty asked.

"Negative. You have one question remaining."

It was May's turn now, and she bit her lip nervously, "Is it a boat?"

"Negative. Subject is an Einstein-Rosen bridge."

"Dammit!" Gary cursed loudly.

"Language," Delia scolded from the couch next to Giovanni's, "Don't make me wash your mouth out with soap!"

Paul sighed as he sat on the armrest of Giovanni's chair, a quick muttering diverting the smoke from the Rocket Boss' cigar away from him, "Why are you all still here? I already told you everything you asked."

"You didn't tell us why he ran away," Misty reminded him angrily, "Or why he joined the International Police."

Paul shrugged condescendingly, "Not my tale to tell, I can only tell you part of the story."

"Then who can tell us the rest?" Brock asked.

"Legend could, but she won't, even under torture. Looker could, if he was here and you had him enough fine Venetian wine to bribe him with, but he isn't, and all the wine in the world isn't enough to match his price. And Lightning might if you asked him, but he's not here. Limit could, but he won't ever do so since he can just delete it from his memory, then reload it later. And our commander could, but he's unreachable."

May frowned, considering, "We've met Legend, and we heard Looker say something about Lightning, but who's Limit? You didn't tell us anything other than that he's an Agent."

"Vladimir Limit is one of the highest-ranking agents of the International Police," Legend answered lazily, "He has fought countless dangers, made many friends among the political, social, and economic elite, and he makes a damn good eggplant parmesan to boot!"

"That… doesn't actually tell us anything," Brock said.

"Well," Legend sniffed, "it's not my fault that you're a bunch of philistines."

Paul nodded, then blinked, "Legend, did High Command airdrop your supplies? Weapons and such?"

Legend smiled wolfishly, "Of course. I've got Jamie and Tyrion assembled and all the ammo ready. They won't be able to strike at us again."

"Good," Paul said, lacing his fingers and resting his head on his interlocked hands, "With Looker absent and Limit delayed, we're operating at forty percent strength. If we come under attack again, we'll need to be even more serious about it and try to minimize damage. Understood?"

"Understood," She drawled, "Anything even remotely suspect comes within five miles of us, I'll put a fifty cal in its head."

Dawn seemed confused, "Jamie and Tyrion?"

Legend grinned, "They're my babies; Jamie's a fifty cal Barrett M107A1 anti-materiel sniper rifle. Tyrion's a bit smaller, a .300 Winchester magnum L115A3 Long-Range Rifle. I do love them so."

Paul nodded, then turned to Delia, "Once Satoshi's returned here, we can focus on forming a more coordinated defensive grid. For now, we'll have to rely on myself and Legend until the Rocket garrison arrives. How long will that be?" He asked, turning to Giovanni.

"Another week, give or take," The Rocket Boss yawned as he leaned back, "It takes time to move that much equipment."

"Good," Paul murmured, "Now, what's Limit's status?"

Legend checked AgentBook, "According to his last update, he's 'sitting around doing nothing contemplating what the fires of hell would look like.'"

"He's fine," Paul waved a hand dismissively, "And I think that's everything. What now?"

Legend leaned back, "We need to plan our next move. We've got an agent in Unova and one in Johto and one god-knows-where. We could use them to gather information."

Paul nodded, "Very well. Looker is to be extracted in three days by Sumeragi Fei Koya and Limit via a Pelliper-class gunship. He's currently taken a mission from the Order, but once complete, he should be able to collect information through his… usual means. Limit will be extracted via gunship in one day, so in the meantime, I'll transmit a request that he work through the night to collect data." He narrowed his eyes and focused as his irises transmuted to a glowing-webbed silver color.

Legend grinned madly, "Just don't interrupt him while he's—"

"WHOA!" Paul cried out toppling sideways onto the floor, severing his connection, "Wow, I didn't even know legs could bend that way! I'm really impressed…"

Now Legend was curious, "Who was that?"

Paul propped himself up on his elbows, breathing heavily in shock, "I didn't get a very good look, but I think it was Jasmine."

"I always though she looked a bit more flexible than she appeared…"

Paul nodded uncomfortably as Legend helped him to his feet, "I think I'll just leave him an urgent memo on Legion's system, so he can get on it when he…finishes."

Legend put a finger to her chin, "Well, he's certainly 'getting on' Jasmine."

Paul pursed his lips, "Yeah. Yeah, he is; now about Looker—"

"How'd he get into her pants anyway?" Legend bulled on, seemingly oblivious to Paul's discomfort, "I always thought she was, like, really shy. I wonder…"

"Legend, I don't actually want to talk about this."

"Oh. I'm sorry," She replied, unrepentant.

Paul sighed, "It's getting late. We'll send out the alerts by nine PM. Legend, set Haro on watch for the night."

Legend nodded and took the robot up under one arm, "I'll sleep in the loft, next to the rifles. I'll move over to Oak's lab tomorrow."

Paul nodded, rubbing one eye, "I think I'll read a few more chapters of Death and You before turning in. What about you, Delia, Giovanni?"

Giovanni stretched and yawned, "I'm feeling particularly elderly tonight, so I think I'll turn in early."

Delia smiled, "I'll be up a bit longer to fix Silver his lunch for tomorrow, then I'll turn in too."

Paul nodded, then turned to the remaining group, "We definitely don't have enough rooms for all of you."

Misty grinned, "That's okay. We're used to sleeping outside."

Paul blinked, horror dawning in his eyes, "No."

May frowned, "You can't tell us what to—"

"No means no," Paul said bluntly.

Now Max was frowning too, "That's not righ—"

"I have a seven-foot-long sword, do you really want to argue with me?"

Max took a step back, "Not really."

"Good," A thought occurred to Paul, "Where did you guys stay last night?"

Brock frowned, "We… sorta camped out at Gary's place…"

Paul blinked suspiciously, "So why do you want to camp out here? Go back to Gary's and come back when you make more sense."

"That's… well…" Gary hummed to himself for a moment in confusion before Misty spoke up for him.

"He doesn't really want to stay there. Too many reminders of the Professor."

Paul rubbed the bridge of his nose, reciting the scripture of a long dead empire in an effort to calm himself, "Alright, fine, you can camp in the area behind the house, a ways out, but only under my supervision. I'll need to arrange you to maximize defensive capabilities in the event of another attack," He narrowed glowing-silver eyes at them as he turned his head, "You are competent battlers, I assume. Gym Leaders are the regions protectors, so I'll tolerate no weakness from any of you. Understand?"

Without meaning to, they sat up a little straighter, "Yes!"

He blinked, eyes returning to their usual violet, "Also, you'll need to cook for yourselves. Delia's far too busy to deal with all of you. Additionally…" He turned to Brock, "Don't you have a wedding to prepare for?"

Brock froze, mouth open, and his eyebrows rose—at least, Paul was pretty sure they were eyebrows. They weren't technically above anything but still—"I have to go make a call," The Gym Leader managed to force out.

Paul nodded in satisfaction as Brock fled, "That was easy," Then he turned to Misty, "Now, Misty, I don't want to alarm you, but Looker is quite fond of Bug-Types."

The Cerulean City Gym Leader froze in place, "B-b-b-bugs, y-you say?"

"Oh yes," Paul said, scowling and nodding theatrically, "Why little Sheldon the Shedinja could be lurking behind you at this very moment…" Misty seized up, then quickly pelted out the front door of the house, impressing Paul, "Huh, I thought I'd have to break out the Shedinja mask too…" He turned to Dawn, "I think I'll let Pikachu make a nest in your hair, make it easier to control his electrical discharge. Shame about the messiness, though; you might never be able to brush out the spikes." He grunted in satisfaction as she, too, fled the house. Turning to Max and May and Gary, he snorted, "I don't suppose I have to threaten you with your darkest fear for you to get the message, do I?"

Ever the braver of the three, May stepped forward, glaring, "What can you possibly do? You barely know us!"

Paul smirked, "That may be true, but I have a keen insight for deducing my enemies weaknesses. For you Max, I would exploit your deeply-buried self-doubt and the feeling you have of not being good enough. With you, Gary, I'd make use of your guilt over Ash's disappearance and your grandfather's kidnapping. And you," He turned to May, eyeing her with something bordering on contempt, "With you I'd simply tell the entire story of why Ash left in the first place."

May stiffened, glittering tears pooling at the corners of her eyes for a brief moment before she blinked them away and left the house sullenly, a confused Gary and Max following her.

Paul closed his eyes and tilted his head back, "Speaking truth while presenting an impression of what is not truth is a skill we have honed well, is it not, Legend?"

"It is," She said as she headed toward the staircase.

"Then why does it feel like lying?" Paul murmured, "I don't even know the whole story anyway."

0000000000

Giant Chasm, Unova, 1:05 PM UST

Rocky spires towered around him, the green grass beneath his feet rustling reassuringly in the wind. Somewhere in the distance of the Giant Chasm, he heard the crack of stone and the tumble of rock as a cliff collapsed onto itself. As he gazed up at the tall pines around him, Looker wondered why his family didn't have a more normal trade, like pottery. Probably because it was considered less intense and less life-threatening by the bunch of adrenaline junkies he laughingly called his relatives.

Looker sighed wearily from his kneeling position, slightly tired by the battle that had been raging for the last two hours, as he gazed up at the hovering witch, "So much for the element of surprise. I don't suppose you'd like to negotiate?"

The girl smirked. She was probably a bit older than him, slim but well-fed, likely from the supplies she reaped from her victims, all long legs and black hair: a girl that would make most men swoon if not for the sneer plastered across her face, "Negotiate with an inferior human? I think not. People like you and, these two," She shook an unconscious N and Hilda in midair pointedly, "Are beneath me."

Looker blinked up at her disdainfully, "Ah! Fuck this; now I understand why the Order despises people like you," At her questioning glance, he continued, "You use the gifts given you by God for selfish ends."

"I don't need to be lectured by someone as inferior as yourself," The witch pronounced regally, "There's nothing you can do while I have your two friends as my hostages."

"You're right," He said, standing and dusting off his jacket, "Victory would be difficult in this situation, wouldn't it? That's why," He smiled maliciously, "I'm going to win."

The witch backed off fast, sure he was going to try something, but when he simply reached into his jacket, she decided it prudent to attack first. Dropping Hilda and N to the ground, she focused all her power on the Agent and hurled all he psychic power at him.

To her surprise, nothing happened, her attack passing through him as though he weren't even there, "What are you?!" She screamed.

Looker smirked as he drew a long throwing knife from his jacket, "I'm a witch hunter. Think of me as your natural predator, strega![2]"

With that, he let his aura unfurl, a writhing black storm of energy rising around him, adhering to his limbs like a suit of armor. As the black energy flowed across his body, Looker closed his eyes, drinking in the witch's fear as she realized who was after her, who he was.

"You're the Devil of Venezia," She whispered in fear, then in anger, "You're the one who killed my sister!"

He opened his eyes, twin silvery orbs glowing menacingly in the noonday sun, "Did I? I wouldn't remember. There have just been so many deaths!" Unbidden, his powers rose to the forefront of his mind, shedding his morality as his hunter's blood awakened, roiling in his veins, "There'll be no mercy for you, witch, not now after you've awakened il cacchiatore.[3]"

With that, he charged. For any other man, it would have been folly, but shrouded by a Dark-type aura and hunter's blood as he was, it was mere child's play. As he drew near, the witch panicked, hurling splinters of stone at him as she shredded a nearby rock with her powers. Reacting, he moved so fast as to vanish from sight entirely, only to reappear behind her, hookblade extended and slashing at her neck for the kill. Wrathful at this interloper, she threw herself to the side fast enough to avoid the majority of the slash, but the blade's point carved a shallow, narrow cut across the skin of her neck.

"I'll kill you for what you did!" She snarled, splintering a fallen log and hurling the shards at him—or at least, at the place that he had been.

"Better men than you have tried," He replied as he appeared in front of her, stabbing her through the hand with one of his knives. With a shift of his arm, he swung the blade down and into the ground, pinning her by her hand, "This foul errand was begun by blood," He pronounced with ceremonial finality over her now-screamed pleas for mercy, kneeling down beside her, "By blood let it be undone." He swung his hookblade, and the battle was over.

As Looker stood, removing his knife from the witch's hand, Hilda stirred and sat up, "Well, that was one hell of a fight."

"You were awake the whole time?" Looker asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"I was waiting to see if you needed backup," She replied smartly, "In case you forgot, I have hunter's blood too."

"Yes, but you're much weaker than I am. By a whole fucking lot."

Hilda had always been the prettiest of the family. It might have been a bit weird for Looker, her cousin, to think so, but there was still something captivating about the clear blue of her eyes, and something in her spiraling brown hair that made Looker feel kind of creepy for noticing. She stood shakily, dusting off her denim skirt and the black jacket he'd given her for her twelfth birthday.

"The fact that I'm weaker than you is your father's fault for compounding his blood—which was already extremely strong—with that of an equally strong woman. Basically, you are the result of two of the most powerful people on the planet." She scowled in jealousy, "Why couldn't my mom and dad be as strong?"

"Bad enough your brother Hilbert complains to me about this, now you have to do so as well?" Looker was at N's side in an instant, nudging him with his foot, "Hey, Natural," He snickered, "Get up."

N gradually dragged himself upright , gripping Looker's hand to haul himself up, "My name's not that funny."

"It is, it really is," Looker disagreed, "Why your mother let your hippie father name you I will never understand." He sighed as he stretched out under the noonday sun, "It feels glorious to be alive and not dead like this witch! Speaking of 'which…'" He ignored the groans of his comrades at his lame pun as he proceeded to chop the woman's head off with a single slice of his knife, so fast as to be unseen by then naked eye, "We gotta take this head to the Lacunosa police chief. That bounty was sure worth a pretty penny, and my predecessor, Beladonis Looker, always taught me to never turn down free money for something that you've accomplished as long as it's offered and not demanded."

"Your predecessor?" N raised an eyebrow.

Looker smiled, "Back during the first Galactic uprising, seven years ago, I was just finishing my assessment to become an Agent. My mentor, the Looker that Brock Harrison and Dawn Berlitz knew, was the Agent assigned to the case at the time. He was a right old bastard, too."

"Looker, do you read TV Tropes?" Hilda asked dryly.

"Of course, why do you ask?"

"Because you're the Roguish Male to Paul's Noble Male."

Looker gave the idea some thought, then nodded, "Che é corretto.[4] Now let's get over to Lacunosa," Wrapping his arms around N's and Hilda's waists, he breathed in preparation, "Don't let go or you might lose an arm."

Then they were gone from sight.

0000000000

Glitter Lighthouse, Olivine City, Johto, 9:30 PM JST

Limit tossed a wicked grin and a wave over his shoulder to an extremely flustered Jasmine as he vaulted over the lighthouse railings, dropping a hundred and fifty feet straight down before landing with an enormous thud, cracking the pavement as he landed and knelt. Standing and dusting himself off, he nodded respectfully to the new crater in the sidewalk and straightened his coat as he walked off into the sunset. Well, he had done his damndest, and the light house windows had held all throughout the act… barely.

'I told you I could get laid faster than you,' Limit One taunted.

'Shut up, Number One! I'm off my game today!' Limit Two whined.

Engaging his link to Legion, Limit searched for anything that might have come up while he was… busy, "Huh, request from Paul to gather information on Team Galactic's movements. Might as well get on it," He paused a moment, realizing his double entendre, "Heh, 'get on it.'"

'Well, you certainly 'got on' Jasmine.' Limit Two added jokingly.

'That sounds like something Legend would say.'

Limit blinked, then decided that the only way he'd be able to fulfill Paul's request would be by going to a pub and mingling with the other consumers. And by "mingling," he meant "get roaring drunk until someone spills something worthwhile."

It was five hours, two bottles of scotch, and fifteen shots of tequila later that he found himself tailing a particularly suspicious-looking man from a peculiarly seedy bar. It wasn't that he disliked the guy, it's just that his facial-recognition scan had turned him up as a member of Team Plasma.

As his quarry turned off the mildly-lit street and into a darkened alley, Limit quickened his silent footsteps, then kicked his target in the back of the knee, sending him to the ground. Quick as lightning, he wrapped a strong arm around the man's neck, cutting off his choked cry, and slid his sword under the man's chin, the long blade sliding out and locking into place over his hand, "Make one wrong move and I'll have your head," He hissed viciously.

He slackened his grip around the grunt's neck to let him respond, "You never get away wi—AGHK!"

"I don't want to hear your posing, "Limit interrupted as he choked off the grunt's response, "I just want to know which Plasma you work for, Ghetesis' faction or N's?"

"As if I'd have anything to do with that filthy traito—URK!"

"A simple yes or no would have sufficed," Limit pressed his blade against the grunt's throat more insistently, "Well, now that I know you're an enemy, I suppose the interrogation can begin…"

So, dragging the criminal back to the hotel room that Charles had graciously offered to pay for when he'd said he was going over to Olivine City, Limit plied the information out of the suspect with threats, violence, electroshock persuasion, and the figures of the stock market from that day.

The sun rose on a new day as Limit was finishing his interrogation. The hotel room was nice enough, if not for the Plasma grunt tied to a chair by the low table. The single bed hadn't been used, and there was a reasonable probability that the hotel staff could clean up the mess, and that the grunt would recover. It wasn't like anything permanent had been done to him.

"Now, last question, I promise," Limit said to the thoroughly beaten and shocked Plasma Grunt, "How can you prove that you actually know where Charon is hiding? Have you ever seen him there?" At the grunt's nod, he narrowed his eyes, "What does Charon look like?"

The grunt twitched, "What?"

Frustrated, Limit flipped the table end over end into the other wall, "What country are you from?"

"What?"

"Do they speak English in 'What'?"

"What?!"

"ENGLISH, MOTHERFUCKER, DO YOU SPEAK IT?!" Limit roared.

"Yes!"

"Describe what Charon looks like."

"He-he's white!"

"Go on…"

"He's bald!"

"Does he look like a bitch?!"

"WHAT?!"

Rolling his eyes, Limit unholstered his pistol and shot the man in the shoulder, "What'd I say about saying 'what,' motherfucker?!"

It was in times of great frustration that the line between Limit One and Limit Two could blur, enabling him to simultaneously play both good cop and bad cop. Unfortunately for the grunt, he was all bad cop right now. Hooking his earpiece over his ear, he connected the call to Koya swiftly, "I need someone to come pick up a perp I'm leaving in my hotel room. Charles knows where it is, you can ask him."

"Understood, Agent. How are things on the ground?"

"Well enough," Limit replied, as he left his hotel room (and the unconscious Plasma grunt), "On my way out from the contest that Charles forced me into, I stumbled upon the most remarkable travel-supplies shop!"

"Really now? What was so remarkable about it?"

"Well, as a matter of fact, they don't often sell many traveling supplies at all; whole business never really took off, and they almost had to shut down before the owner decided to start up an… alternative product line."

Koya was wary now, "What kind of product?"

"Well, sir, you know how Mrs. Goodshow is always complaining about how Charles is always off on business and how she never has any time alone with him anymore?" Limit asked, stepping into the elevator.

Koya didn't like where this conversation was going, but sheer morbid curiosity spurred him onward, "Yes…"

Limit grinned as he stepped off the elevator and into the hotel lobby, glancing at the great digital display that proclaimed the time to be 6:30 AM, "Well, there was this one called the Devastator, and you wouldn't believe all the settings it has. Give one to Mrs. Goodshow, and I guarantee she won't be missing Charles at all."

"Limit, I have to go. I have to go bleach my brain—I mean, do important stuff vital to my sanity—I mean to the safety of the world. B-b-bye."

'I'm impressed,' Limit Two said, 'You managed to make Sumeragi Fei Koya stutter."

"We can make Sumeragi Fei Koya stutter, and yet we still don't understand why all Pokémon attacks explode…" Limit mused as he exited the hotel, "Such are the mysteries of the universe." And so the Agent of the International Police walked off in the direction of the morning sun… until he remembered that the gunship he was supposed to catch was in the other direction, at which point he turned around and walked off with the sun at his back in as dignified a manner as he could.

0000000000

Royaux Villa, Undella Town, Unova, 10:30 PM UST

Caitlin sighed as she looked out the window of her darkened villa bedroom, her shoes in one corner and her hat in another. Tiredness and boredom filled her as she sat down on the plush mattress. She was often filled with such thoughts in recent days. She hadn't had a decent challenge in months, and her psychic powers had been somewhat troublesome lately, giving her headaches and worsening her sleepiness. She sometimes wondered what good it was to have a gift you couldn't control. Then she cursed herself for being so selfish, so self-centered.

She was broken out of her musings by a quiet tapping sound at her window. She frowned; her bedroom was on the second floor and from her vantage point, she could see nobody on the ground. Opening her window, she leaned out, the cool sea air washing over her as she searched in vain for the source of the disturbance, "Hmm, I guess it was nothing."

"Not nothing, but thank you for opening the window for me. I would have had it in a bit," Answered a quiet, warm voice behind her.

She stiffened as a pair of arms slid under her lace cape, holding her close. She felt a puff of heated air on her ear as he pushed aside her voluminous blonde tresses to rest his chin on her shoulder. A hard, lean body pressed against her back, conforming to the delicate shape of her spine. She reached out gently with her psychic powers and felt nothing, bringing a small smile to her face. It was him, one of the only people she could never read, never dominate.

"I was surprised to see you awake at so late an hour," Looker breathed across her ear, "Una signora like you needs her rest. [5]"

She slipped a dainty hand between his two where they were clasped around her waist, reveling in his life, his warmth, "I… I couldn't sleep," She managed, "I was… musing."

She leaned back against him as he brought a hand—the left one, she thought—to caress the pale skin at her neck, ghosting over her as though afraid she would break at the slightest of touches. Lacing his hand with her own, she grasped it with almost as much gentleness as he. He was always gentle with her, had been ever since their second meeting. His right hand slid up her flat stomach, looping a finger around the tie to her long white blouse and tugging in equal measures of patience and insistence. As the garment came loose, he slid it off of supple shoulders and let it fall to the ground.

"It's been a while since you last visited me," Caitlin managed to murmur, "Here I've been, the maiden languishing in her tower, while you and your comrades go gallivanting around the world, saving damsels and fighting evil as you go. Are you sure you haven't found a more comely girl?"

Looker grinned against her neck, "The day I find a more comely woman than yourself, dear Caitlin, is the day that Paul admits he is capable of smiling." He pressed another kiss to her neck as he caressed the length of her arm with the fingers of his left hand, the sensation of his touch searing her as though he were fire made flesh.

"Oh Kyurem Above, Leonardo! It's been too long, so long I'd almost forgotten how—ah!" She gasped, open-mouthed and shuddering, soft pink lips parting in a desperate intake of breath as he dragged his right hand up her abdomen to cup her breast, his thumb kneading at her soft skin through the fabric of her gown.

"I have missed you very much, dearest Caitlin," He whispered almost reverently as he undid the silk cape around her neck and let it fall forgotten to the ground.

"Show me, then," She breathed back, barely daring to whisper in the darkened room.

By the time she managed to drag in a breath, his nimble fingers were unlacing the back of her wine-colored evening gown and his warm mouth and sharp teeth were at her neck, making every moment one of blissful anguish. She cooed in slight dismay when he needed to remove his hand from her breast, but whimpered earnestly when it returned, this time caressing her nipple through the dark red silk of her dress. Her eyes, of that breathtakingly clear and vibrant blue, met Looker's own, steely-blue and glinting mischievously as he continued to kiss and suck and nibble and bite at her fragile neck.

"Oh I will, Caitlin," He murmured against her pale skin as he finished unlacing her dress, "I will show you."

His jacket was the first thing that hit the floor as he tugged apart the back of her gown. Looker embraced her, pressing against her with eyes bright silver, pouring all his want and need across the connection they had, both of mind and body.

They'd never had a normal relationship; nor would they ever. Theirs was a strange balance, she cool and dispassionate, a young woman bored with the world, he mirthful and fiery and almost searing with passion, for life, for his world, for her. She considered him, mulling over his personality even as he slid part of her gown off her shoulder, pressing his lips against hers. He was a paradox unto himself. It seemed unkind to think of him as such, but it was the truth. He was always so calm, so contained, yet beneath that exterior raged a hurricane of emotion, a storm in a bottle. She giggled softly—an uncommon occurrence—at her poetic inanities, but she couldn't help it. Logic just didn't apply to this man.

His dichotomy didn't end there, of course. He was kind to his family and cruel to those who hurt them. He would linger and worry and fret over the slightest of injuries she may have sustained, but would rip and tear apart any who caused it. He could be her roguish lover one moment and her knight in shining armor the next. He loved her, and that mattered most.

Looker paused his ministrations as he read Caitlin's thoughts, then gathered her more closely in his arms, "I do love you, Caitlin. Can you feel it?"

With her powers, with the darkness that enshrouded him dissolved, she could. Like the dreamsmoke she sometimes used to help her fall asleep, it was intense and powerful and almost overwhelming. She knew how much he loved her, little selfish girl that she was, and knew what kind of dangers he threw himself into. She knew how severely he could be hurt, still remembered that day that he'd collapsed across her doorstep, blood weeping from near a dozen gashes. She still remembered holding him and sobbing against his chest, fingers twisted in the tough fabric of his jacket, her dress and cheeks and hands and hair stained red with his blood, still remembered his eyes—blue like hers, but darker—locking with hers, filled with so much fear and desperation that it hurt to remember. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes as she tossed her head, hair clinging to her shoulders and neck and back, sticky from Looker's kisses and damp with a sweat that had absolutely nothing to do with the temperature.

He blinked as he felt her self-loathing and guilt wash over them both and his arms tightened around her, holding her so close she could feel his soothing heartbeat hammering against her back, "Don't ever think that, Caitlin," He told her as he pulled down the other side of her gown, his deft fingers leaving a trail of heat along the curve of her collarbone as he pressed his lips to it, "Don't ever think that I don't know what danger I go into. Don't ever think I regret a single wound or scar. Don't ever believe that any of my blood is on your hands."

She nodded, leaning back against his hard frame as he worshipped her other shoulder, "How is it you can love me, Leonardo?" At his confusion, she let a few tears spill over, "I can sense the truth in everybody, the awful truth. I know I'm not normal, and I act selfishly though I don't mean to. So please," She turned away from him.

"Hey," It was him again: her shining knight. She felt his two fingers under her chin, lifting her head and turning it toward him, "I love you. That's all that matters."

He turned his head and kissed her deeply. Half-turning, she kissed back just as heavily, her hands bunching in his white hooded shirt with need and want. She was dazed and drunk on his aroma, chamomile and cardamom. When she unzipped his shirt around the strange insignia on his chest and cast it aside, she ran her hands over the dozen or so scars across his torso, the reminders of battles fought and battles won. He kissed her again, eyes alight with emotion as he slid her gown off her shoulders, letting the silk fabric pool around her delicate feet, leaving her in naught but her undergarments, lacy things of silk, colored a navy blue as dark as the night sky.

Their first meeting had not gone well; in fact, it had been disastrous. Few relationships were prefaced by several attempts to kill each other, despite Pokéwood's desperate attempts to persuade people to the contrary. The fact that they were even able to function around each other was a miracle in and of itself.

She would have mused a bit more, but Looker's sharp bite to her ear shattered every last sliver of concentration she had as she threw her head back in a shocked gasp, every synapse and nerve aflame with sensation. He released her ear as she turned her head back toward him and captured her lips with her own, kissing her deeper, harder than he had before as he fumbled with the clip to her brassiere.

"Stupid, damn contraption," He muttered in one quick moment as she drew back for breath.

He kissed her again, hungrily, and she felt a slight give as he succeeded and cast away the most hated form of underclothing he would ever lay eyes on. She drew a shuddering breath as he rolled the pointed nub of one nipple between his left thumb and forefinger, heat pouring off his hand, the one at her breast and the one sliding down her flat stomach.

She exhaled as he slid his hand under the fabric of her panties, finding her wet with arousal beneath his fingers. She groaned and tossed her head back as he slid one finger inside her and reached back herself, slipping her own hand down the iron-hard flat of his stomach to glide beneath his waist, finding him hard and ready. He gasped as she stroked him with one long forefinger and she smiled slightly in the triumph of breaking his composure. That triumph was short lived as he crooked another finger inside her, giving her cause to press back against him, pinning her hand against his groin and pressing insistently.

"Are you sure you want to play this game, Caitlin?" Looker murmured huskily, crooking his fingers again and sending a startled mewl sprawling from her lips.

She ran her fingers up and down, earning a surprised groan from the man behind her, the man who had heated her up to such heights of bliss, "I am a woman in my own right, Leonardo," She managed to say, "I've been playing this game as long as you."

"I know that," Looker insisted in as level a voice he could force out, the strained effort obvious in his tone, "But you've already got your whole hand around my cock, whereas I—" He dug his fingers in a little deeper, drawing yet another gasp from her, "Have yet to use to three of my five fingers."

He withdrew his fingers, sticky now with her arousal, and she watched as he slowly, languidly brought them up to his lips, licking each digit clean individually, sucking on his littlest finger before gradually freeing it with an audible pop. He was teasing her, taunting her, and it only aroused her even further. She squirmed against him futilely, but getting a strangled groan out of him as she rubbed against his groin.

"Leonardo," She half-moaned, half-whimpered, "Please…"

He growled low beside her ear, voice almost dripping with need, "Damn it all, Caitlin. You always did know how to rile me up."

He undid his belt with haste as she bent slightly to discard her underwear. Fast as usual, his lips were at hers by the time she stood straight again and he pressed her back against her own bedroom wall hard, one hand lifting her leg up around his hip, the other tangling roughly in her hair as his kissed her insistently. He rubbed against her frustratingly, giving her little shocks and jolts of pleasure but not enough to satisfy. She took the game into her own hands, hands looping around his neck and shoulders as she too rubbed herself against him, earning herself a series of groans and gasps, sending the hand in her hair raking along the length of her spine, leaving searing lines down her back. She squealed softly at that, and for Looker, the sound of her voice alone was overwhelming. He groaned once against her lips, then whirled and tumbled her to the bed, blond hair running around her like rivers of liquid gold as he thrust.

The world seemed to shatter when Looker entered her. Caitlin arched her back and let out a soft keening sound, one hand fisting in the covers of her bed, the other gripping Looker's forearm, nails digging into his skin as she pulled herself halfway up, feeling she'd almost die if he stopped. She buried her head in the curved of his shoulder, hair spilling about her like sunlight given form. It was so good, so raw, so primal. She lost her breath as he kissed her, his sudden shift hitting something inside her that sent heat cascading through her body. The world narrowed to what was around her, the pleasure she felt within, the lips pressed against her own, and the heat, searing her so wondrously that she could have been set on fire and wouldn't have noticed.

Her gasps and squeaks and moans were broken when the heat reached its peak, when he leaned forward again and hit that burning ache just right, setting lines of wildfire running through her as she screamed a name, his name, and she felt every muscles in her body tighten around him as she clung to him tightly; nothing else mattered, nothing else existed but the liquid fire coursing through her form.

He could not hold on long after that, his release sudden and intense as he drew a shuddering breath and nearly howled as he made one last, forceful thrust, leaving trails of searing-hot nerves in his wake as he flooded her with that same heat of his body. He fell across her, red in the face and wincing slightly at the welts her nails had left in his arm, gasping and huffing as he struggled to piece together his broken snark and composure. She too fell against the bed, utterly spent as she lay back, flushed and radiant, stroking his hair as she drew heavy breaths of fresh air into the burning lungs of a body overloaded with sensation.

Looker managed to prop himself up on his forearms, withdrawing from her and leaving her cooing in contentment as he crawl up onto the bed with her, pulling and maneuvering her under the covers as she curled up slightly, drawing her legs up beneath her as she traced the scars on his chest.

"Leonardo?" Caitlin murmured tiredly, already feeling sleep tug at her consciousness.

"Hmm?" He turned toward her, lacing his fingers with hers.

"Promise me you'll always come back alive."

His eyes, those blue, blue eyes, searched her own and he nodded, "I promise you," He murmured, leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to her brow, "Now and always…"

0000000000

No. 12, Rue de Plumet, Pallet Town, Kanto, 8:37 AM KST

Legend sat back as she finished her daily maintenance on her rifles. Tired and satisfied with her work, she sat back and sighed with a bottle of bourbon in one hand and an oil-stained rag in the other. The loft of Delia's house had a decent command of the surrounding areas, with few houses rising high enough to disrupt her aim significantly. She would have preferred setting up at the top of Oak's windmill, but it was too far from the house for the benefit of the additional height to outweigh the detriment of delayed action.

The loft was more analogous to a miniature four-sided gazebo set atop Delia's house, accessible only via a ladder that led up from a utility closet on the second floor, making Delia's house the tallest in the area. Legend had set up a sort of mobile sniper's nest in the loft, with Tyrion covering the path into Pallet Town and Jaime the sea route to the South. The arrangement made sense, to use the .300 Winchester covering the route most likely used by infantry and the 50 cal Barrett covering the route most likely used by materiel forces. Besides, in the event that she needed to, she could easily move either of the rifles to fire on the enemy. If she didn't need to aim carefully, she could fire one with each hand, or if she did, set Haro to controlling one while she manned the other.

It was the knock on the trapdoor that drew her out of her musings, "What do you want, Dawn?" She asked, unlatching the hatch's deadbolt without looking up from the latest issue of Rifles Monthly.

As the blue-haired girl came up from the house, she seemed pensive, "How did you know it was me?"

Legend looked up from her reading, eyes flashing from storm grey to bright silver, "I evaluated the sound wave caused by your knock and after using wave propagation analysis, determined the force with which you knocked. Noting the fact that males tend to use the bottom of their fist when knocking in nervousness, as evidenced by the slight discrepancy in the rhythm of your knocks, I determined that the knocker must be female. And judging by the slight scuffing sound I heard as you ascended the ladder, I was able to recognize the same sound that the soles of your boots had made before. Since there was no inconsistency in the footsteps, indicating that you were comfortable with the shoes, it was a reasonable assumption that it was you, and not May or Misty wearing your boots."

Dawn stared at her, wide-eyed, "Wow. How'd you do that?"

Legend gave a bark of laughter, "Call it a gift."

She didn't need to mention the fact that Haro had come to the same conclusion as she had and could have confirmed her deduction if she'd needed him to. Nor that she could have simply checked the security cameras posted in and around the house if she'd needed to. She didn't need to, of course. She had her gift.

"Gift?" Dawn asked, perplexed.

"Something like that," Legend admitted, "We all have one, each of which segregated us to our various focuses of combat. With my ability, I'm much more adept at long-range combat than any of the others, which is why I was designated as the team sniper. Looker is our close-combat fighter—Limit too sometimes—Paul the heavy assault expert, and Lightning acts as our mid-range support."

Dawn fidgeted a bit, "Do you have something else I can call you by? If you're ok with it, of course!"

Legend chuckled, "Nah, it's been my name for a while. It makes me feel much too close to my bitch of a sister."

"You don't get along?" Dawn asked sympathetically.

"Nah, too much alike, so my dad said anyway. Of course, that was before his GN Cannon exploded and killed him, so now he'd probably say something like 'you could change… I couldn't so you'll have to do it for me…'"

"I see," Dawn bit her lip, "I—"

"I know why you're here, or rather, why May sent you here," Legend said dully, tossing Haro high into the air and catching him again and again as the little robot beeped in glee, "Haro's monitoring the surrounding area, so I heard your early morning conversation," She ceased moving and let Haro fall into her hand with a smack, "It wasn't her fault that he left; not the way that Paul and Looker think of it. Ash told me that part of his tale, entrusted it to me, and me alone, to keep… She's not a bad girl, and she wasn't entirely to blame. Half the blame lay with Ash, and he knew that, he told me so. He didn't return because… Lugia Below, I'm not sure you'd understand. It's like he had this obligation to help people, this self-imposed quest. Maybe that's what killed him in the end: altruism…

"I'm afraid I can't tell you anything. Why he joined Interpol, what he did during his service, why we were in Orre, what he said at the end, where he is now, nothing… All I can tell you was that he… he was magnificent. In a fight you could hardly believe your eyes how fast he was, how agile. Looker's been fighting his whole life, and even he was impressed with Ash's… ferocity. It was like watching a dragon in battle, just…" She trailed off, eyes alive with light and memory.

"Sounds like you really liked him," Dawn observed quietly, filing away what Legend said about may for further investigation; she was going to find out what happened to her mentor, the first boy she'd ever loved, if it killed her.

Legend's mouth curled into a mirthful grin, "He'll always have a place in my heart, yes," She replied, "But I've had my eyes set on someone else for a long time."

Dawn was in her element now as her face split into a grin, "Who's that?"

"I'm not saying," Legend laughed, "That would be telling," She blinked wistfully, "I suppose it was a foregone conclusion, but still…"

Dawn nodded in understanding, "I get it. I know how you feel. There was a boy I liked when I was younger—"

"Ash," Legend said dryly, "It was Ash. It's always Ash."

Dawn blushed at legend's curt summation, "H-how did you—"

"If you knew how many times I'd had to fend off one rabid fangirl or another, you wouldn't ask that question. As it is, the things they wanted to do to him. The horror, oh the horror…" Legend shuddered, "It was mortifying. Never was the same after all of that. Wherever Ash is now, I hope there aren't any fangirls with him."

"And Satoshi?"

"Ah! The kid, adorable one, that," Legend smiled, "Dead ringer for his daddy, too," She blinked hard and squirmed uncomfortably, muttering under her breath, "Ho-Oh Above, who writes this bullshit?"

Luckily for her, Dawn didn't hear that last part, "Did Ash ever tell you who his mother was?"

Legend drew breath, as if to speak, but stopped and pursed her lips, "He didn't."

Dawn blinked with something resembling sadness, then stood, brushing off her miniskirt, "Well, I won't hold you any longer, Ms. Legend—"

"Courtney," Legend said suddenly, "You can call me Courtney; if you want. Used to be an admin with Team Magma, but I jumped ship after Maxie went off the deep end. Threw my lot in with Interpol and joined Ash's team. Been friends with Looker and Paul ever since."

Dawn smiled, "'Kay then, Courtney," A thought occurred to her and she frowned, "What was Ash's codename?"

Legend paused, then smiled, "That's a story for another time. I might tell you one day, but not today…"

Dawn took the answer philosophically and went back down the trapdoor. As her footsteps retreated from Legend's hearing the Agent smiled and raised her bottle to the morning sun, "Wherever the hell you are, Ash, I hope you're free. You've earned that much."

0000000000

221B Solomon St., Nimbasa City, Unova, 4:41 AM UST

Hilbert Castle woke with his senses ringing in alarm and his hunter's blood singing a song of death. In the following two-point-five seconds, he did three things. First, he analyzed his position and his immediate surroundings. He was lying on his bed, the blankets pushed haphazardly to the foot of the mattress. The door lay off to his right, with a bedside table littered with the debris of a hundred emptied pockets situated between the two. His left arm was pinned beneath a sleeping Satoshi, while his right remained completely free. Second, he analyzed any possible dangers. Noises in the hall, and downstairs as well. Two, possibly three. He motioned to Serperior, who had already awakened. The great serpent nodded, then slithered as quietly as he could to loop around the door frame, positioned perfectly to slip out or aid Hilbert when needed. Third and lastly, he took a deep breath and readied himself for what he was about to do.

He followed his first instinct and threw himself sideways across his queen-sized bed, wrapping Satoshi with his left arm and scooping up the pistol he left between the two pillows with his right hand as he rolled off the other side of the bed as the door flew open. Aiming without really seeing, Hilbert had put four silenced incendiary bullets in the Plasma grunt's chest before she'd even had time to raise her own gun. This was no suppressed gun either. The Order had figured out the secret to true silencers long since, a secret only sold to individual militaries for a high price, the International Police being one of them.

Blindingly fast, Serperior slipped out the door in a flash of green. A startled choking sound and a spatter of blood, and Hilbert knew that there would be no trouble from the second Plasma agent. Holding an awakened and frightened Satoshi close, he slowly inched around to corner and down the stairs to survey the scene. Serperior lay coiled on the ground, doing his damndest to be inconspicuous. It wouldn't have worked very well if anyone had tried to look for him, seeing as his mouth was still dripping blood from when he'd ripped the Plasma grunt's throat out halfway down the stairs. Hilbert nodded to his, patting the Regal Pokémon on the head before shifting Satoshi a bit higher on his chest, the boy now fully aware and watching for any danger. The last one was going through his kitchen. 'Typical,' He thought, 'She sends her two grunts up to do her dirty work while she steals all my food. Damn bitch.' He flicked his wrist, deploying his own hookblade, similar in design to Looker's; he wouldn't forgive this. First she'd tried to have him killed, along with Satoshi, and now she was eating his food?! Dropping Satoshi in Serperior's cushioning coils, he motioned for the two to be silent, then simply walked out into his living room.

"Morning," He said conversationally.

The Plasma woman turned to him startled, her open-mouthed shock evident even through her face mask. He'd never really liked the ninja-uniforms they'd instituted since he'd kicked Ghetesis' ass a few years back, "What are you doing still alive?!"

Hilbert didn't take the time to respond. His hunter's blood was awake and humming with bloodlust. He wasn't near as fast as Looker, but he was a damned sight faster than the Plasma woman when she drew her pistol. By the time her weapon was unholstered, he'd already wended his way around the counter and snatched up a knife he'd left on the counter the previous evening. By the time she'd brought the gun to bear on his previous position, he was already past her guard, hookblade flashing out to knock the firearm from her hand. She was clearly a novice—she hadn't even had her weapon out—but she was here to kill either him or Satoshi. He wasn't about to let that happen. He stabbed the knife through her right hand, her weapon hand, and slammed her to the ground, slamming the length of the blade that protruded out the back of her hand into one of his wooden cupboards, pinning her in a sitting position and dislodging her mask.

Ignoring her cry of pain, he stood, moving across the kitchen to the small drawer where he kept paper and pens. He took out a sheet and put a pen to his lips in thought, "This location is compromised. I'll need to get Satoshi out of here, probably to an Order bunker." He wrote a quick note to Looker explaining his plan in a code language that only they knew, then grabbed another knife from his drawer and approached his captive. The grunt was red-haired and might have been pretty if not for the rage and hatred etched into her face, "I'll only ask you once: why did you come here?" At the defiance in her eyes, he interrupted her before she could speak, "Don't think I won't hesitate to… convince you to tell me. I filled one of your agents with a clip of incendiaries and my Serperior tore out the other one's throat. I won't balk at torture. My father taught me one that was good for getting information because the subject has complete control over when it stops. I take your hand—your good hand—" He gripped her left hand forcefully and splayed her fingers on the ground, "And each time you refuse to answer my questions, I take off one joint of your fingers. I like to start with the littlest finger, because it causes unimaginable pain, while still letting the subject call it off while the more, ah, critical digits are still intact." He deployed his hookblade, "Why did you come here? Answer me and I'll make your death a quick one."

She looked him in the eye, glaring boldly, then looked at his blade, poised over her hand carefully, then again at his remorseless eyes, "We were ordered by our great leader—"

"Spare me your bullshit about how great Ghetesis is. I kicked his ass and that's that."

She snarled, "I don't see why he sent us to take care of you! You're nothing compared to our glorious leader. We will liberate the Pokémon you so cruelly oppress and—"

Hilbert didn't wait for her to finish her sentence and stabbed her in the chest, just above the left breast and through the heart, pinning the note to her body. She drew a ragged breath as she fell unconscious. She would be in no pain, and brain death would occur within minutes. Hilbert growled angrily as he went back to the stairwell, picking up Satoshi as Serperior surveyed the place for any damage. They couldn't stay. Ghetesis knew where he lived, and he wouldn't be able to come back until all of Team Plasma was dead or disbanded. At least they didn't know about Satoshi

He whipped out his videophone and dialed an old friend. He was going to pay for this. After the eighth ring, a bleary, tired, unfocused face filled the screen. Hilbert honestly thought that no one ever imagined Elesa like this: cranky, tired, and pretty as hell, "Elesa." He murmured.

"Hilbert?! What the hell are you calling me for at this hour?! Do you know what time it is?!" She half-screamed at him.

"I was just attacked in my own home, Elesa."

That managed to calm her, though she still struggled to rub the sleep from her eyes, "You gotta be kidding. Someone was dumb enough to attack you?"

"Three people actually," Hilbert replied, "I have to leave the house for a while. Can you make sure nobody disturbs it until Looker gets here?"

Elesa rolled her eyes, "Fine, I'll do it now, just lemme sleep…" She punched out a short message to the police and hit her pillow as soon as she was done.

He nodded, and she was asleep before he hung up, "That's done, then," He murmured, noticing that Satoshi was asleep against his shoulder. He held the boy more securely and turned toward the front door. They hadn't come in through there, so where— "Ah, the skylight," He looked up, seeing where the glass pane set in the ceiling above the front door had been pried open, "I thought I'd had that issue fixed. Tch, no one's perfect I guess," Looking over his shoulder, he called out, "Let's go Serperior. I want to be at the bunker by the time the sun comes up." The snake attended him, and they dashed out the front door as though Darkrai himself were after them.

0000000000

Royaux Villa, Undella Town, Unova, 6:24 AM UST

She was naked when she awoke, warm under the heavy covers of her own bed. She raised her head and pulled herself upright, hair falling across her bare shoulders and back pillow like liquid gold, sticking in damp curls around her neck and her upper back where they'd been soaked by Looker's kisses or her sweat, and felt the stickiness of Looker's seed where it had leaked out between her legs. She saw Looker already awake, pulling his pants on. He turned slightly as she stirred, grinning impishly at her luminescent blush when she realized that the sheet had fallen from her chest when she'd sat up, baring her breasts to the morning air and his gaze. Bunching the covers to her neck in a sudden display of modesty, she let out a tiny squeak that only widened his smile. That damn smile, the one that could melt through the icy walls she'd built around herself like they were nothing.

"Mi dispiace, [6]" he murmured softly, sliding an arm through his shirt sleeves and zipping it up around the emblem of his order, "I didn't mean to wake you."

She blinked at him, slightly reproachful, "Were you just going to leave the woman you'd so lovingly bedded? Without even a note?"

His eyes were warm when he leaned down to kiss her, one hand toying with her hair as the other tossed his jacket over his shoulders in that sexy way of his that deepened her blush, tingeing the tops of her breasts a rosy pink, "Of course not; I would have dressed, then woken you," His smile dimmed a bit, "I'm afraid I have to go. I got an alert from Elesa that something had happened in Nimbasa with my cousin, but that he's safe. Mi dispiace," he apologized again, "I might not see you for a bit. Things back at Pallet have been getting pretty crazy with old Brock getting married."

"Brock?" Caitlin frowned slightly, "Brock Harrison? The one Lucy's marrying?"

Looker blinked, "Sí, how did you know?"

"I'm invited to her wedding, obviously. We were friends when I acted as the Castle Maiden, before I… lost control," Caitlin answered, moving one hand to hold Looker's in her own, "Knowing Lucy's fiancé, that wedding will probably be a nexus for trouble."

Dawning realization seemed to break across Looker's face, "And information," He breathed, "Elites from all over the world will be there. It'll be one of the most secure locations on the planet, and simultaneously a hotbed of farmable info and chaos."

"Chaos?" Caitlin asked softly.

Looker grinned, "With so many different people, conflict is bound to crop up from time to time," He donned his jacket and sighed, "I have to go now. I need to retrieve Satoshi from wherever Hilbert's taken him and then catch a Pelliper gunship back to Kanto with Limit," He seized her with uncharacteristic roughness and pressed a searing kiss to her lips—the heat of his mouth hotter than the heat on her cheeks and breasts—hands tangled in her hair, "Goodbye, Caitlin. When next we cross paths, I'll sing you a song to remember, te lo prometto. [7]"

He took a step back, closed his eyes, and flew through her open window. She sighed as she fell back onto her pillow, still exhausted from the previous night's exertions. She thought about going back to sleep, but a fleeting thought of Looker's grin dispelled any such thoughts. She slid out of her great bed as gracefully and gently as she could, not wanting her legs to collapse beneath her, and tugged on a robe the color of lapis lazuli; he'd always told her how beautiful she looked in blue, how it drew out the blue in her eyes. As she finished tying the knot around her waist, she heard a knock at her door.

"Come in," She called.

Her valet Darach, black-haired and dressed formally, opened the door slightly and leaned in, "My Lady, breakfast is ready."

"Thank you, Darach," She replied primly, the reserved Caitlin of old once again, "Cynthia plans to depart tomorrow, correct?"

"Indeed, My lady," Darach replied, raising an eyebrow in question and pushing his glasses a little farther up the bridge of his nose. It was unlike Lady Caitlin to forget such things, or to ask after them for confirmation.

She nodded, "Pack my things, Darach. I'll be going to Lucy's wedding a little sooner than I thought. We leave tomorrow."

Darach nodded formally, but still had to ask, "May I ask what triggered this change of plans?"

Caitlin looked out the window with something resembling an expression of longing, "A visit… a visit from someone very important to me."

Darach merely nodded, "As you say, My Lady. I'll have the servants finish the packing by midevening."

"Thank you."

0000000000

Pelliper-class Gunship, Registry EE010-IP, En-Route to Unova, 9:39 AM UST

Limit groaned blearily as he stirred from his nap. Going over twenty-four hours without sleep was easy for him, but even he needed to get some rest in every now and then. He sat upright from his leaning position as he looked around the cabin. It was simplistic, as he'd come to expect from the Interpol's vehicles, all smooth grey walls and reasonably comfortable leather chairs, with either side of the cabin functioning as a blast door both to allow troops to disembark and to protect them from antiaircraft fire. There were six of them, four in the rear of the cabin, toward the tail of the gunship, and two toward the front, with a small doorway one either side of them. It was across these two that Koya had draped himself, while Limit had slept across the four aft-side seats.

"What've I missed?" Limit grunted, seeing that the cabin's holographic projectors had already been activated.

Koya blinked and waved a hand, causing a three-dimensional topographic layout of the Unova region to materialize, "At approximately 4:45 AM Unova Standard Time, the resident of one Hilbert Castle was invaded by three agents of Team Plasma."

Limit stiffened, "Satoshi—"

"Is perfectly safe," Koya bulled on, "Hilbert repelled the attack and took the boy to an undisclosed location. He left a note pinned to one of the bodies, but it's in some sort of code we don't have time to crack. Looker's on his way now and will send us the location once he decodes the letter, said it's a secret language they made up as kids."

"Right," Limit nodded, quieting some, "Good. Then we'll rendezvous with him at the location he designates?"

"Obviously," Koya said, "Likely an Order safehouse or bunker. Looker, with all his phenomenal speed, will get there first and retrieve Satoshi and Hilbert, if he wishes to join us."

"Understood," Limit murmured, "What of the situation in Pallet Town?"

"Looker's determined that the best way to gather information would be a Brock Harrison's wedding. Gym Leaders and Elites from around the world will be in attendance, and all of them will be receiving information from their proxies back home. As such, your team is being rotated off the Pallet bombing investigation and being reassigned as information management at Pewter City."

"Seems like a cushy job," Limit grunted, "Too cushy. Why so easy?"

"Because the author wants to speed this along and this was the best way he could think of," Koya replied, sipping from a cup of tea that hadn't been there before, "He's really rather awful."

"I hate him," Limit declared.

"Me too!" Yelled the pilots from the cockpit.

"So we've all decided that we hate Cortega? Good, fuck that guy," Koya said, "Now on to things that matter: we're out of earl grey tea and hair gel back at headquarters. Relay the request for more tea to our suppliers and the hair gel order to my metrosexual second cousin Sergio. He can get us all the hair gel we need."

Limit nodded, "Legend has been complaining that her supply is running low. How else will she maintain those unusually stable side-bangs?"

Koya blanched, "I'll put in the order immediately."

0000000000

Nimbasa City, Unova, 10:21 AM UST

Looker landed beside the policeman standing guard at Hilbert's door with a thud, startling the young man.

"You! Who are you? Identify yourself!"

"Maybe you should have asked that before I relieved you of your weapon, badge, hat, and wallet," Looker commented idly, juggling the aforementioned items.

The policeman wailed in anguish, almost sobbing, "I'm sorry! Please don't kill me!"

Looker sighed, "I really hope the other officers aren't like you. No wonder Unova's fucked…" He handed the other man back his effects, then displayed his own badge, "I am Agent Salacastern Looker of the International Police, and you will let me pass, stronzo."

The inside was a mess. Hilbert had obviously left immediately and not bothered to set right all his scattered possessions. Looker's hands drifted across this object and that, black energy tugging at his fingers. Here a rifle on the floor, dropped by one Plasma agent when his throat had been torn open, there a half-dozen bullet casings, laying by Hilbert's bed where they'd been spent when he'd killed the first grunt. All this Looker learned through his aura.

The dark aura was neither good nor evil; it simply was. The dark embodied dreams and thoughts and memories. Darkness was the absence of light. Things that went unsaid and unseen and unheard were darkness: a significant look, a subtle nod, a whispered word, all darkness. Light was obvious; even the blind can tell where there is light. But dark was subtle. Dark was the things that one kept to oneself.

And yet, with his dark aura, Looker could feel the memories in the objects around him, in the door when it had been flung open by the enemy, in the casings, when they had been spent and ejected, and in the knife, as it had cut through the young woman's heart. Looker had come full circle through the house, back to the kitchen, where the Plasma woman lay dead, pinned to a cabinet by one knife and pinned with a note by the other. The decoding was swift: just a set of coordinates, but one Looker knew well.

He opened his direct line to Koya swiftly with his earpiece, "Old man, it's me. I've got the location." He gave the location in a doubly encrypted form, using a seemingly nonsensical combination of numbers and letters that made sense only when translated by a top-clearance agent.

From Nimbasa he traveled south, forgoing the dubious comfort of Route 4 for the harsh winds and sands of the empty desert. Listing slightly eastward, he made good time on his way to the designated location, evading the wildlife where he could, mercilessly defeating them when he couldn't. At last he came upon a high dune in a particularly nondescript area of the desert. Once he'd made his ascent and slid down the other side, he turned toward the thick steel door set in the back of a cleft in the sands. Giving his retinal and voice recognition, he gained access to the first room of the bunker. Therein he found the guards.

"Brycen, Koga, you're here?" He asked quietly.

The nearer of the two, former Pokéwood star and Gym Leader Brycen of Icirrus City, stepped forward in a combat-ready stance, "Indeed, High Master. Koga was on break from the Indigo League when the alert came down, and I brought myself here as well."

The ninja Koga stepped forward next, scarf fluttering behind him in the bunker's artificial breeze, "Illusions and technology could provide a spy access to the bunker with your appearance. To verify your identity, we must test the only thing an imposter cannot fake." His eyes narrowed and he and Brycen surged forward at nearly inhuman speeds, each readying a strike.

Looker smirked, unsheathing his hookblades, "Let's dance, i miei fratelli. [8]"

He blocked Koga's first kunai as the ninja tried to stab him in the ribs, and deflected Brycen's flat-palmed jab away from his ribcage with his gauntleted left arm. Catching Koga by one of his bootstraps, Looker slid under and through the split of Koga's legs, flipping the ninja end over end. As Brycen readied his next strike, Looker reversed direction, swinging his hookblade swiftly, ferociously. Brycen had little time to react and was barely able to fend off Looker's blow as Looker held his other blade to Koga's throat.

"That's enough, the battle's been decided."

Brycen and Koga disengaged, still facing Looker, turned away from the new voice, "Is that your judgment, Master Hilbert?"

"It is," Hilbert Castle replied, "I know my cousin's style of speed and combat anywhere, and he is one of the few Masters or High Masters to wield a pair of hookblades, and the only one to achieve grand mastery with them besides Grand Master Castello."

Looker nodded, "I've come for Satoshi. The gunship will be here in a few hours. And you," He looked Hilbert in the eye, "I think you should come as well. It wouldn't hurt to have backup that I trust."

Hilbert grinned easily, "Running around with you, blowing shit up? I've got your back. Before we go," He reached over his shoulder and withdrew a long object from his backpack, tossing it to Looker, "You said you'd be needing this, before you left for Lacunosa. Here it is."

Looker clasped the sheath reverently, "The Sword of Cyrian of Ash, the Timethief, Hand of the King to King Ashura ." He gripped the hilt of the sword and drew it in one swift motion, the sword's blade almost glowing a sapphire blue.

"It's yours by right and act, Leonardo," Hilbert said, "Use it well."

Looker nodded, then bowed his head, "Grazie Hilbert."

His cousin smiled, "You've earned it Looker, for better or for worse."

"For better, I hope."

Hilbert pulled him into a rough embrace, thumping him on the back before pulling away to pick up Satoshi. Then he frowned, "You smell like orchids.

Looker blinked guiltily, then mustered up his most nonchalant manner, "Orchids? What are you talking about?"

"You saw Caitlin, didn't you?" Hilbert smirked knowingly.

Looker reddened in embarrassment, "Vai a farti fottere!" [9] Then he sighed, "Se è la briga di tradurre questo, probabilmente avete troppo tempo sulle vostre mani…" [10]

Somewhere, deep within the recesses of Looker's psyche, Libido chuckled quietly. Bound in chains and weighted down, guarded by Honor, Discipline, and Propriety night and day, Libido knew the day would come when he would slip his bonds and take the throne in Looker's mind once more. It was inevitable; for on that day, when the dragon called Lust was woken, when it battered the white knight called Reason into exhaustion, then would one link give, and Libido would be free once more, it was inevitable. Libido laughed long and loud, because Libido had won, and Libido would always win.

0000000000

No. 12, Rue de Plumet, Pallet Town, Kanto, 9:24 PM KST

Paul had to grudgingly admit that Ash's friends knew what they were doing. When he'd given them their formation orders after a brief survey of the surrounding landscape, Brock and Misty had immediately seen the sense in his fortification plans. Even May understood, having used something vaguely similar to—but far less advanced than—his design in her last contest at Saffron City where she'd managed to beat Dawn by a narrow margin in a difficult triple battle. Even Max understood some of Paul's reasoning behind the configuration.

So as a sort of apology, he had conceded to eating dinner with them as they sat around their campfire, following his standard patrol at sunset. Fortunately, they seemed to have moved on from bombarding him with questions about Ash and (unfortunately) started bombarding him with questions about everything else.

"Then what happened?!" May asked excitedly, leaning so far off the edge of her chair, that Paul was almost certain he'd have to perverse satisfaction of seeing her fall off of it.

Predictably, his luck didn't work out that way, and he sighed before continuing his story, "Then the man in the black coat with the blue and grey eyes simply left without a word, to rock other faces, master other universes, drink other kegs of vodka. Some say he was a king; some say he was a god. They were both right!"

Brock mused for a moment before mustering the fortitude for another question, "So, where have you been for the last ten years, Paul?"

Paul blinked at Brock, "What do you mean?"

Brock sighed, "Well, I've only seen you once before you came to Pallet since Ash beat you in the Sinnoh League, and even then we didn't have much time to catch up."

"Ah…" Paul drawled in realization, "You mean the time we crossed paths at that Pokémon Center in Petalburg City? That must have been… what? Seven years back? Eight?"

"Something like that," Brock chuckled, eyebrow quirking, "Something like two or three years after the Lily of the Valley Conference."

"That long ago?" Paul snorted wryly, "That Conference was ten years ago. I'm probably a thousand times stronger now than I was then… Well, since then, I trained and trained for years, went all the way up Mt. Silver once, only to find that someone had already taken it."

Dawn raised an eyebrow, "Who else would be crazy enough to climb up that frozen mountain?" Then she saw the amused smirk Paul was giving her, "Oh, no," She muttered, "Oh, you've gotta be kidding me… Of course he'd have been crazy enough to…" She sighed loudly as realization dawned on the rest of the group.

Paul managed to restrain himself to a booming chuckle as he saw the understanding in the eyes of everyone else, "Yep! Ash Ketchum! Kicked my ass, too. But I could have—" Paul froze, eyes burning silvery, wide-eyed for a brief moment. Then he nodded and narrowed his eyes, "Understood." As his eyes faded to their normal violet, he turned towards the house and shout up at the loft, "Legend!"

"I got it too!" She replied, "Looker, Satoshi, and Hilbert are all en route. Limit got off the gunship."

"He told me that he had business to conduct and someone to see," Paul called back as he stood, "Any new orders?"

Legend stilled, eyes flashing a shining gray, "Yeah, from Looker and approved by Koya. We're to attend Brock's wedding."

Paul raised an eyebrow as the lowing silver faded from Legend's eyes, approaching one wall of the house, "Looker handed down those orders? He must be serious. Did Limit say why?"

Legend's mouth quirked upward at the corners as she answered, "A beautiful and regal woman gave him inspiration."

Paul blinked, "Ah. That makes waaay too much sense; that damnably reckless hedonist…" He sighed, gripping a window frame as he began to scale the wall, "So the Orchid will be coming? How soon?"

Legend ran the calculations in her head, "By my math, eighty-six hours from the time of Looker's departure."

Paul compared that with his current plans and nodded as he attained the roof, "That eliminates half a dozen undesirable scenarios. Very well, then, Legend, have your gear ready to move in an instant and inform Giovanni and Delia that Satoshi is on his way home with Looker. Knowing that crazy bastard, he'll probably drop him off at school in the gunship."

"He does spoil that boy rotten, doesn't he?" Legend laughed without a single iota of remorse.

Paul snorted, falling into a seat beside Legend in the loft, "Indeed," He pulled a small figure from his pocket, a stocky, tower-shaped piece of glass that he twirled between his fingers, "The next step is to harvest information. Have our information regulation supplies ready for airdrop and make sure Pikachu is comfortable."

Legend quirked an eyebrow, "Where is Pikachu, anyway? I haven't seen him this whole chapter!"

Paul snorted, scaling the wall, "He's mourning the loss of his beloved ketchup bottle by the recycling bin in the kitchen. We finished it off this afternoon."

Legend snorted, "My arm is not long enough for the jerk-off motion that is in my soul," At Paul's extremely disturbed side-glance, she elaborated, "Looker said that once, but he never told me what it meant."

Paul sighed, "It means that there is no tangible way to express the amount of disgust, disbelief, disinterest, or wastefulness one feels about something; it's usually accompanied by a jerk-off motion."

Legend chuckled as Paul demonstrated said motion and took a beer from her ice chest, "Well, you and I both know what'll end up happening at the wedding—this is a (sort-of) disappearance fanfic after all."

Paul rolled his eyes, "My arm is not long enough for the jerk-off motion that is in my soul right now."

"Ready to be brutally murdered?"

Paul gave her a significant side-glance, "What do we say to the God of Death, Legend?"

She grinned, "Not Today."

0000000000

Undella Town, Unova, 5:32 PM UST

Limit set his face in a grim mask as he strode out of the misty forests of Route 14. He'd had to fend off more than one ambush by Team Plasma, and he hadn't bothered letting them escape his wrath on two feet. The lucky ones got away on one foot. The luckier ones had died quickly. He wouldn't dwell on what he'd done to the unlucky ones: they were terrorists, and had the situations been reversed, they'd have done the same to him. But he'd given them a clean death when he'd finished with them: a sword through the heart, a sudden stop; they'd fought him well, and they'd earned that much respect from him. He, Vladimir Limit of the International Police.

He was a great, monstrous bear of a man—a fact that his black longcoat failed to diminish—towering six-foot-six with thick and powerful limbs and eyes that missed little. The journey across the desert and through the forests to Undella Town had been little challenge, though it had tired him some. He'd have to rest up before going to retrieve the Crown.

Undella was a tiny little resort town, and as such, it didn't take long for him to find the Royeaux Villa. The Royeauxs were one of the richest and most powerful families in Unova and Sinnoh, had ruled as kings in Unova's ancient past, and in fact were still the royal family of Unova, if only symbolically. It had been they who had built the great temple at the bottom of Undella Bay. There he would find the third fragment: the Crown.

When he'd rapped on the door to Caitlin's villa, he'd expected a maid to answer, or Darach, her valet. He'd not expected Caitlin to appear herself, flushed, out of breath, and radiant, blonde hair spilling over her shoulders like molten gold as she leaned on the doorframe with one arm, staring at him in half-comprehension. Limit blinked at her as the scent of orchids washed over him. He'd never seen Caitlin look so… normal.

Caitlin coughed and doubled over for a moment, wheezing as she braced herself against the wood of the doorframe. The sleeves of her pink gown were smudged with ink and her pink hat was askew, threatening to tumble off her head if she tilted it the wrong way, "Remember how you once wanted to be Champion?"

Limit gave her a long look, "…yeah…"

"Don't… Ever… If it's this hard being Elite Four, it'd have to be torment to be Champion. I don't know how Alder does it."

"I thought Iris was Champion," Limit observed.

Caitlin waved off his comment, still panting, "Drayden dethroned her three years ago, and Alder toppled him last year. Big news at the time. You never knew?"

"I work in space, Caitlin. We're busy up there doing… awesome space stuff. No gravity, and lasers."

"Lovely," Caitlin commented, still breathing heavily.

Limit raised his uncovered eyebrow, "What happened to you? I know for a fact that it wasn't Looker, because I just put him on a flight to Kanto six hours ago."

Caitlin gestured behind her, where Darach was frantically ordering servants about, "We're packing for our trip to Kanto. I got a full blast of this madness when I tried to get involved. Zekrom Above, my feet hurt," She sighed and looked up at him wearily.

Taking pity on her harried form, Limit gave her a rueful smile before sweeping her off her feet and into his arms, one hand under her bent knees and the other supporting her lower back as she rested her head against his shoulder, hair trailing below her as her hat fell to the ground. Limit stooped enough that she could reach one long pale hand out to retrieve it, then proceeded into the house. With Limit a good foot taller than her, she seemed almost diminutive in his arms as she cradled her poufy hat against her chest. When he deposited her on the couch, her hair splaying out across one of the sofa's plush cushions, he lifted her legs and placed them across his lap as he sat down.

When he pressed a thumb against the sole of her foot and dragged it down the length of her arch, Caitlin gave a groan of relief, "That feels so good," She informed him, "How have you been?"

"Alright," Limit grunted, shifting his grip on her foot such that his fingers pressed against her sole and his thumb on the top of her foot, "Been busy trying to track down Cyrus. He went to ground almost immediately after he reappeared."

Caitlin muttered a response that dissolved into a sigh as Limit continued to massage her foot, "What brought you all the way out here? Couldn't you have gone with Looker to Kanto?"

"The Crown," Limit grumbled simply.

"Ah," She breathed in realization, "Then you'll be coming with me and Cynthia?"

"Exactly," Limit answered, drawing a shudder of gratitude as he smoothed a pressuring finger along the inside of Caitlin's wearied arch.

She giggled a bit and hand to resist the urge to snatch back her foot at the slight tickling sensation his fingers brought, "Very well, then. You'll of course have to dine with me tonight—Leonardo would never forgive me if I failed to show you every hospitality I could—then I suppose you'll go diving for the Crown?"

Limit nodded, "That's the plan," He murmured quietly, pressing his thumbs against her heels.

She nodded and sighed, sinking into the cushions, "Good, good. I'm feeling tired. Tell Darach to keep the noise down, will you?"

Limit nodded as Caitlin dozed off, gently maneuvering himself out from under her legs and going to speak with Darach. In a low voice, he outlined his plan for the next twenty-four hours, and asked for his full cooperation, as well as that of the servants. While the servants busied themselves fixing dinner, and while Caitlin slept on the couch, Darach and Limit poured over a map of the world, plotting the route the Orchid would take. When they had finished, the cook's assistant, a petite maiden with hair like spun-fire, informed them that dinner was ready. Dismissing Darach to retire for the evening, Limit roused Caitlin with a gentle burst of aura.

Rising from her sleep gracefully, she yawned and stretched before standing, "Mmm, that feels much better."

"Dinner's ready," He told her, standing and walking around the couch, "I gave Darach the rest of the evening off; we leave tomorrow morning."

"Good," Caitlin extended her arms above her head, straining them to work out the lethargy instilled in them by sleep, "What are we having?"

"Ducklett and Onion Soup," Limit smiled, "Looker said it was your favorite."

Caitlin flushed pleasantly, then raised the back of her hand to her cheek, feeling her own warmth, "Even when he's halfway across the world, Leonardo can do this to me," She murmured in wonder.

Limit's grin widened, "He has that effect on people. Even if he's on another continent entirely, he can still jerk Paul around."

She smiled amusedly, "So he's said."

Limit nodded as they made their way to the dining room, a richly furnished space with more chairs than Limit could think of uses for. They sat together at one end, chatting companionably as they spooned soup into their mouths. He amused her with the more palatable tales of his missions as she detailed much of the world's current events to him. She smiled when he cracked a joke and laughed when he planted a brotherly kiss on her cheek. In another life, if he'd ever wanted a sister, it would have been Caitlin Royeaux.

He blinked when she took him by the hand, pulling him out of his chair, "Will you come see my garden with me?"

Limit smiled easily, "Of course, little sister."

"Little?" She asked pointedly, "We're of an age."

"Yes, but I'm bigger," Limit pointed out unapologetically.

Caitlin scowled at him for a moment before melting into a relaxed smile, "Well then, big brother, let's get going."

She led him out through a glass door in the back of the villa to a quiet retreat of red and green and violet and every color between. Behind the villa was Caitlin's garden, wherein she spent much of her time when she was not battling or reading or sleeping. Beside the door stood a small, elegant-looking cabin that held her gardening tools, and so it went unnoticed. Looking down, Limit noted the grass and smiled, lifting his right leg and tugging off his boot as Caitlin easily shed her slippers. When he had extricated himself from the deathgrip of his other boot and socks, he placed his bare feet on the mat of soft grass beneath him.

"Zoysia grass," He muttered, "Very soft; good choice, Caitlin."

"My favorite," She answered as she lay back on the grass, hair pooling around her like honey, "I've always loved this garden, even as a little girl."

"As I recall it, you were a little girl when we first met,"

"Hush," She chided, "You conquered my Battle Castle and defeated Darach with surprising ease. I would have battled you myself, if… well…"

"If a quick-witted boy hadn't beaten me to it… and beaten you," Limit said, "You were a bit petulant back then—arrogant even. I suppose it's my good fortune that I wasn't the one to beat you," He sat down beside her, "I hadn't yet developed my powers. I still lacked this," He brought his hand to the right side of his face, where his hair and eye were swathed in bandages, "And this," He tapped his wrist, "If I'd fought and beaten you, that psychic storm might have killed me."

"As it was…" Caitlin sighed, "No, I have no excuse. I was lucky that the first challenger capable of defeating me was also capable of resisting my powers."

Limit smiled down at her ruefully, then lay back, "Maybe it was luck. Or perhaps something more powerful… Perhaps it was predestined, after all…" Limit's grin twisted in something like amusement, but more savage, "Are you fond of riddles, Caitlin?"

"Am I about to hear one?" She asked in reply.

Limit snorted in laughter, "In a room stand three great men: a king, a priest, and a rich man. Between them stands a common swordsman of no extraordinary ability. Each great man bids he kill the other two. Who lives and who dies?"

Caitlin furrowed her brow for a long moment, blinking hard, "Depends on the swordsman, I suppose."

"Does it?" Limit smirked, "He has neither power nor wealth nor favor with the powers that be—"

"He has a sword, he decides who lives and who dies, he has the power of life and death!" Caitlin protested.

"But if it's swordsmen that rule, why do we pretend otherwise? Why do we pretend that rich men have influence, that politicians and kings can change our lives, that gods can alter our fate?"

Caitlin chewed on her lips sourly for a moment, stewing in Limit's retort, "I don't think I'm fond of riddles."

Limit laughed long and hard at that.

It was morning by the time Caitlin next was aware. She was in her bed, tucked safely beneath the warm covers, Limit dozing in a chair beside her bed. They'd talked away another hour in her garden of orchids before she'd fallen asleep. He'd evidently carried her to bed and tucked her in, then fallen asleep himself.

He was out of the chair before her feet even touched the floor, "You always managed to wake up before I'm out of bed," She pouted, "What's your secret?"

"Magical techno-spacey stuff," Limit deadpanned.

Caitlin shook her head, fanning her hair out around her into its usual style, then looked down at herself, noting that she still in the blouse she had been wearing the previous evening. When she eyed Limit, he snorted in amusement.

"You were fast asleep, and not much of a graceful waker," He chuckled, "I thought it wise to leave you as you were."

Caitlin closed her eyes, "Perhaps, though I do feel much better after a good night's rest. Tell Tanya to draw a bath for me and be at the boat by 8:30."

Limit looked to the small clock adorning Caitlin's wall, seeing that he had an hour, "Sure thing, little sis."

He headed out the door as Caitlin went for the bathroom, striding down the opulent halls until he found Tanya, Caitlin's lady maid, pretty as the dawn with rich brown hair that fell around her face in soft curls and hazel eyes that glimmered with mirth when she was in a good mood. She had a sharp eye and a sharper mind and she almost always managed to find a way to outwit Limit when put to the task. He was already quite familiar with her. Approaching from behind her silently, he grabbed her by the wrist and spun her around, pinning her to the wall with a kiss that she returned fully.

"It's been a while since I last saw you," She grinned wolfishly as she pressed against him, seeing that he had most definitely taken notice of her, "Too busy sleeping with other girls to have some fun with a real woman?

"Lady Caitlin needs a bath and I have an hour to kill. What say you draw one for her and then we go to the barn and find a nice soft bale of hay, and you can show me how much fun a real woman is," He murmured sultrily in her ear.

Limit was five and a half minutes late to the boat, and Caitlin greeted him with an upraised eyebrow and laughing eyes, "When did you become a remorseless womanizer, dear brother?"

He returned her amused look with his own, "When I decided that I'd rather live than die," He tapped his bandaged face, "I had a pointed reminder that life is cold and cruel and that death can come for us when we least expect it. If I'm to die, I'd rather do so content than dissatisfied. So I'll drink and eat and fuck until my heart gives out and I keel over."

Caitlin's eyebrow remained in its upward position, "I highly doubt that your heart will be giving out any time soon."

Limit gave a wicked cackle, "No indeed."

Their banter was interrupted by the arrival of another person. Tall, honey-haired, grey-eyed Cynthia grinned blissfully at them as she adjusted her black, floor-length coat, "Have room for one more?"

Limit's smile widened as he took in the sight of the older woman, "There's always room at the inn for you, big sister."

Cynthia mock-gasped and gave him a swat on the arm, "It's rude to mention a woman's age!" She scolded, then winced and clutched her hand, "Owie…"

"And that's why people don't hit me," Limit deadpanned again, "Because I've got arms of fucking Adamantium!"

Cynthia chuckled, then brushed her forehead dramatically, "Whatever happened to the sweet little boy who defeated me? When did he turn into this raucous, foul-mouthed nymphomaniac?"

Limit turned to her, his eyebrow raised now, "I decided to live while I could. You heard what I said to Caitlin?" Cynthia nodded, "Then you understand, big sister. I see no reason to hedge my words or curb my urges when I could be dead on the morrow. Any woman I sleep with knows she's not the first or last or only, I make that clear long before we hit the covers. If we fuck, it's because she wants to and doesn't care whether or not I take other women to bed, and the same holds true in reverse."

Cynthia gazed at him a moment longer before raising her arms, "Come here and gimme a hug, my little—pseudo—brother."

Limit embraced her and swung her around, "Pseudo? I'm your brother in every way but blood!"

Cynthia's grin widened as she held him at arm's length, "And his brother as well, I'm sure. Besides, it's not official until the knot is tied…"

"So it isn't," Limit replied, smiling easily, "C'mon, let's go before we're delayed any longer."

"It was you who delayed us," Caitlin snarked.

"Hush, Caitlin," He chided, "I'm channeling my inner Aquaman."

As the boat disengaged from the dock and headed out to Undella Bay, Limit reflected briefly that if he went to Kanto, it may indeed be the end of his secrecy. Even if Eric Felling had failed at trying to declassify his location (he was going to have to make that up to Looker sometime,) the fact remained that there was every chance this positioning would bring light to the darkness he surrounded himself with. But Dark was not evil, he reminded himself; it was merely the absence of light.

When the boat came to a stop and weighed anchor, Limit stripped off his longcoat, leaving him in only a tight-fitting white shirt that did little to disguise his figure, muscular as it was. His hat, too, came off, leaving his black hair to fall around his shoulders, long and ragged from his time in space, before he vaulted off the railings of the yacht and dove into the cool, clear waters of Undella Bay.

Affixing a rebreather to his face, covering his mouth and nose, Limit swam down quickly, strengthening his limbs with Aura to propel himself downward faster. His thoughts turned to the Pelliper gunship he had sent Looker and Satoshi off on as he entered the Abyssal Ruins, and for a brief moment, he worried that they may have been attacked. He quashed those fears immediately; Looker was there, along with Koya. They were two Champion-level combatants with enough armament and ammunition to bring down a large meteor. Everyone onboard would be fine.

Limit pushed his way past the last gate to ascend to the fourth level. There on a heavy marble pedestal sat his quarry, the Relic Crown, surrounded on all sides by deep chasms that reached into the depths of the sea.

So eager to return to the surface and get going was he that he didn't even pause to consider his environment. So single-minded was he that he didn't see the massive red tentacle that reached up from the dark until it wrapped around his leg and dragged him down into the depths.

/

There you have it, Chapter 3 of Agent Limit. And we didn't even get sued once, ain't that grand!

This part is slightly important! Anyway, I'm considering stopping these little quizzes, since it seems that nobody ever answers them. If you want 'em to continue, let me know, but if not, just stay silent. Or review. Tell me what you think. Reviews are what we writers live for. You can't write something if there's no feedback, not if your blood runs printer-ink black, goddammit!

Remember: REVIEWS MAKE ME WRITE FASTER!

Anyway, I'll give you the answers to last Chapter's quiz, then give you the one for this Chapter (and what may be the final quiz.)

CHAPTER 2 QUIZ ANSWERS:

1) Sure, you keep thinking that, Looker. 2) Very. Why not, right?

3) Because it's a reference to Assassin's Creed, like everything else Looker does.

4) Because Mars had a crappy childhood. All her friends were kind of dickish.

5) Because he's a trillion-year-old time-traveling wizard-dragon. He's Doctor Who, that's "WHO" he is.

We interrupt your quiz to tell you that Cortega has been summarily beaten for his crappy puns. Without further ado, enjoy the rest of his idiocy.

7) Because he's a man of God. And a little weird. Take your pick.

8) I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of my own brains EXPLODING.

9) It wasn't. 10) 70. 11) It's Halo 3: ODST, okay? I had a bit of a phase!

12) EXTREMELY.

Now, on to the QUIZ for this Chapter.

CHAPTER 3 QUIZ:

Why does the group suck so bad at 20 Questions?

Who are Jaime and Tyrion, and which House are they from?

How badass was it when Looker fought that witch? (You're not fooling anyone, Looker!)

Isn't it awesome how Limit can jump off a lighthouse and damage the ground instead of himself? (Remember, children, vandalism is a crime only if you're not an impossibly high-level secret agent!)

WHY THE HELL DO ALL POKÉMON ATTACKS EXPLODE?!

Hey! What happened to the Answer to Question 6 from the last Chapter?!

CaitlinXLooker; Thoughts? (Don't like, don't bother responding. It's not changing.)

Do you remember how Legend was Courtney in the original AL?

HilbertXElesa; Awesome, or just weird?

Why do my characters hate me so?

Why does Looker's Libido keep taking over his mind?

Who was the man from Paul's tale that he was telling the group around a campfire? (HINT: If you've read my other fics, you might know this.)

Who knows who Soren Bowie is?

From whom do the lines "What do we say to the God of Death?/Not today," come from?

Why are Limit's arms made of "fucking Adamantium," why does he have them, and will they be of any help against the vengeful Kraken that's no doubt attempting to devour his Wolverine-esque bod as we speak?

Do you guys actually read this, and/or even like these quizzes? They take a lot of effort to write, y'know…

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TRANSLATION NOTES:

[1]: Holy Water

[2]: Witch

[3]: the Hunter

[4]: That is correct!

[5]: Lady

[6]: I'm sorry.

[7]: I promise you.

[8]: My brothers!

[9]: Go fuck yourself!

[10]: (This one is not being revealed; consider it a bonus for those of you who are interested…)