This marks one of the few times when I got an idea for the pairing almost right after it was suggested. :o

This one's actually one of my personal favorites. No, the fact that it's the longest one so far - and longer than several BF chapters - has nothing to do with it. :P

To-do list: FranticShipping, GracefulShipping, KantoContestShipping, PreciousMetalShipping, Ash's PikachuxPaul's Electabuzz, TickleShipping, CemetaryShipping, EphemeralShipping, BayShipping, ShoppingShipping, LazyPervertShipping, LucarioxDelcatty, EgyptianFurShipping, SpecialJewelShipping, ColosseumShipping, NostalgiaShipping, RangerShipping, RepairShipping, IpanemaShipping, SylphShipping, ElegantShipping, NidoranMxNidoranF, StreetShipping, PokeShipping, LuxioxEspeon, LightrockShipping, ClapShipping, FireredShipping, GinsuishouShipping, EmpiplupShipping, ContuckyFriedShipping, RafexMay, MahouShipping, LilBlueShipping, BlenderShipping, AuraSightShipping, JackiexRui, JackiexEmok, AccordShipping, PenguinShipping, ChoosenShipping, QuestShipping, TurtwigxCyndaquil, RubusShipping, LunarEclipseShipping, TorterraxSnorlax, Who'sOnTopTonightShipping, IronWillShipping

SoulSilverShipping – Silver & Lyra (K+)

Birth

Two newborn babies slept in neighboring cradles in Cherrygrove Hospital's maternity ward. One bore the start of chocolate-brown locks; the other had tufts of crimson.

Age One

Mrs. Sakaki smiled. "See?" she crooned, dabbing at her little boy's face with a linen napkin. "It wasn't really icky at all, was it?"

He smacked against the tray of his high chair. "Yech," he spat, scrunching up his face.

She sighed to herself as he helped him get out. If only the boy's father were here, she told herself. If only there was more to my husband's life than his organization. Taking care of little Silver would be so much easier with his help. She shrugged, kneeling and setting her son down on the living room floor beside his many toys. Still, I suppose he feels obligated to—

A series of frantic knocks jolted her out of her thoughts. Frowning slightly, she straightened up again, striding out of the room. "I'll be right back, sweetie," she promised, throwing a reassuring glance over her shoulder.

The knocking continued to pound relentlessly on the front door; in fact, she noticed vaguely that it increased in frequency as the seconds passed. "Very well, very well, I'm coming," she muttered to no one in particular, grasping the silvery handle and turning it.

She started in surprise: a young woman stood there on the front porch, attempting to keep a hold on the convulsing toddler in her arms. The woman's dark hair was disheveled, her clothes dirty, her face tear-streaked and pleading. Mrs. Sakaki had heard rumors of common people living in huts in the nearby forest, but she had always brushed them off. Apparently there was some basis to them after all.

All this passed through her mind in a second; in another, the strange woman stumbled forward, just managing to keep her choking daughter from tumbling from her grasp.

"You have to let me use your phone!" she begged, eyes wide with anxiety. "She's choking, I don't want her to die, please help, just let me dial, please …"

Well, common people or not, Mrs. Sakaki knew a desperate situation when she saw one, so she nodded and hastily ushered the tearful woman indoors, through the lengthy entry hall and into the living room. Little Silver glanced up curiously from his toys as his mother snatched up the phone, punched in 911, and waved at her visitor to sit. The woman did so, sinking weakly into a sofa and releasing a pent-up sigh.

Half an hour later, the medics gave their last assurances to the women that the toddler would be just fine, leapt back into their ambulance, and rolled out of the driveway again, lights no longer flashing. Mrs. Sakaki couldn't help but smile as her visitor embraced her daughter, crying silently.

"Thank you," the woman whispered.

"Please, it was no worry," she replied, stooping down to kiss little Silver's forehead. "As a favor from one mother to another. I am Ariana Sakaki." She extended a slender hand, wedding ring sparkling slightly in the light. "I believe I missed your name. After all, I can hardly expect to keep in contact with you otherwise, now, can I?"

The woman's face lit up. "I'm Talia," she said, shaking the offered hand. "Talia Hart. And this …" She smiled down at her bleary-eyed daughter. "Is my lucky little Lyra."

Ariana smiled.

Age Two

"Now, what comes after two?" Talia asked again, seated before the two toddlers. Her clothes were in much better repair now; in spite of repeated attempts to decline Ariana's offers, the redheaded woman had insisted that she help her friend in making her financial struggles a little easier, dropping in a good word or two for every potential employer. She was grateful for the help, but was still feeling quite overwhelmed by the turn of affairs. It was so hard to believe that she now owned a phone!

"Tree!" Silver exclaimed.

"Fwee!" Lyra said, half a second later.

"That's right!" She lifted up a couple of fingers, counting as she did so. "One – two – three! Aren't you both so smart?"

"Yeah!" they chirruped, smiling at each other.

"Macaroni's ready!" Ariana called from the kitchen.

Squealing in anticipation, the two struggled onto their little feet, anticipation lighting up their fingers. Talia smiled. Little children seemed to prefer simple foods to the rather costly gourmet baby mush Ariana had bought prior to their friendship. At least now she was giving something in return.

Age Three

"I don' wanna go!" Lyra wailed, tears streaming down her face as she plopped down on her bed. "I don' wanna leave Silvoh fohevoh! Mommy, no …"

"Oh, sweetie," Talia crooned, sitting down next to her and pulling her close. "Is that what you were worrying about? New Bark Town is interesting Silver's mommy, too." She lowered her mouth to her daughter's ear, as if imparting a deep secret. "In fact, I think they're going to move there, too."

Lyra looked up, still sniffling. "Weally?"

"Really. And you and I can live in a great big house next to Silver and his mommy, and we can have parties and sleepovers with Silver and with all the other kids in the neighborhood!"

She wiped her face with a sleeve. "Silvoh'll be dere?"

"I'm betting on it."

"Good." She nestled against her mother's side. "Den I'll come."

Age Four

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you …"

The light of eight candles brought the faces of the people surrounding the cake into dim focus; the back porch light remained uncontested as the main source of light, washing gently over the yard. Children giggled and shrieked, excited to finally get to dessert, while smiling parent chaperones kept an eye on them in case things got too out of hand. Silver bounced around on his stool, eager to blow out the candles, birthday hat sitting atop scruffy red hair. Lyra waited only slightly more patiently, leaning so far forward that Talia had to keep reaching over her shoulder and pull her braid behind her back again, away from the flickering flame.

Lyra was still surprised, and immensely pleased, that her best friend shared her birthday. There was something special about that, she thought, eyes glinting in candlelight. Something unique, a kind of magic that linked them together. Her world was small; how many other four-year-olds could have the same birthday?

"Happy birthday, Silver-and-Lyraaa … happy birthday to you!"

Everyone cheered; some put in that obligatory addition, "And many more~" while other cheered for the birthday kids to make their wishes already. She glanced at Silver, who seemed to be thinking about his wish. They were special, birthday wishes were. Maybe, when two kids made their wishes at the same time, they were extra powerful. It made sense.

I wish me and Silver'll always be bestest friends, she thought. Forever 'n' ever 'n' ever.

She puffed out her cheeks, and the two of them extinguished their candles.

Age Five

"But Silver!" she protested, trotting behind him, "they're just kiddin'! There's no such thing as cooties!"

"I guess," he said sheepishly, glancing around as if worried other boys were going to mock him. "I've been pals with you forever, and I'm not dead yet … but they'll pick on me, like callin' me a girl!" He looked disgusted at the thought.

"What's wrong with girls?" Lyra asked, arms folded.

"Oh, you're okay," he added hastily. "You're fun, you get into trouble, you're not scared of bugs. You're more like a boy. I mean ones like them." He pointed at a few figures in dresses skipping rope in the far-off playground. "They're all cootified."

Lyra made a face. "Yeah, you're right. I guess I'm really a boy. Girls are gross."

"Really gross," he agreed.

"Like, super-ugly-snot-nosed gross."

"Yeah."

And from that day on, Lyra was the local tomboy.

Age Six

"I want to catch this Pokemon on my journey," Lyra said matter-of-factly, showing off a book she'd found at the library. She pointed at the colorful pictures on the page, while Silver looked over her shoulder. "And this one, and that one too. But especially this one. It's called …" She squinted, trying to figure out the pronunciation over a drawing of an elegant blue wolf. "Soo … suey … coon? Suey-coon. It's the most powerful water Pokemon ever."

"I thought they weren't real," Silver said, frowning slightly.

"They're legendary. But they're still real. I heard something from somebody about how this one guy is going all over the place looking for Suey-coon, and he wants to catch it and be the greatest thingy ever. Or something. I dunno."

"Huh." He looked thoughtful. "Wouldn't you need normal Pokemon first, though?"

"Yeah. I still can't decide what Pokemon I'll pick, though. They were giving away these flyers at the new lab, and they had stuff on the starters on them. I'm gonna take either the fuzzy one or the blue toothy one. The green one is too girly." She stuck her tongue out.

Silver nodded. "I know I'm not taking it! Don't worry, there's still, like, a million years until we start our journeys. Lots of time to decide."

"I guess." She gave the blue creature a final glance before shutting the book. "I'm hungry. Are we going to your house for lunch?"

Age Seven

"Mom and Dad are getting together again," Silver finally revealed, scowling.

Lyra smiled. "Isn't that good news? I thought you wanted that to happen."

"I did."

"I don't get it."

He didn't say anything for a while, just kicking his legs slightly as they dangled out of the tree house. She just sat beside him, waiting patiently.

At length, he sighed moodily. "Dad wants Mom to move to Kanto," he said. "Something going on over there or whatever. She's going to drag me along." He scoffed. "It's stupid."

Lyra felt something drop out of the bottom of her stomach. "But you're my best friend!" she blurted. "We're supposed to be together all the time! You can't just go, it's all crazy!"

"I know," he grunted. "But there's no arguing with Mom."

She folded her arms. "Hmph. It's no fair."

"Really no fair," he agreed, glaring at the forested landscape below and beyond. "It's a billion times funner here with you than over in stupid old Kanto." He shifted, withdrawing something from his pocket. "Here, I want you to have these."

Lyra stared at the little cutting of flowers grasped between his fingers. "Flowers? Ew, you better not be turning into a girl, Silver."

"They're not just any old flowers," he insisted. "They're forget-me-nots. To help you remember me. And they're blue, so they're not really girly." He looked away again. "I don't want to forget you, Lyra."

She nodded, understanding. "Okay," she said, taking them gently. They were kind of pretty, but not exactly in a girly way. "I'll keep 'em. And every time I see them, I'll think of you." She smiled at him. "Forever 'n' ever."

He managed a smile. "Forever 'n' ever."

Age Eight

Lyra pulled the letters from the mailbox, leafing through them half-heartedly. She hadn't heard from her old friend for a long time … two months, was it? Three? She reached the last one, and her heart sank: there was her own letter, returned to sender. Again. She'd never reach him at this rate.

She sighed, turning and heading towards the front door. Maybe the new kid would be willing to play. Ethan, Talia had said. She shrugged mentally. It couldn't hurt.

In the tiny little vase on her windowsill, the forget-me-nots were wilting.

Age Nine

"Our organization is in ruins," the man muttered, stalking about the room tensely. "All of them defeated by a mere boy. Even I have lost to him. I see no point in continuing it."

Ariana tried to reach out to him again. "Giovanni, we can still—"

"I will not be arrested like a common criminal!" he shouted suddenly, smashing his fists against a table.

"Maybe if you felt like running, I—"

"When I want to hear your opinion," he growled through gritted teeth, "I will ask for it. In the meantime, be silent!"

Seated outside the room, back to the wall, Silver gritted his teeth. That man – he could hardly think of him as father – had no right to talk to his mother that way. But he couldn't do a thing about it. Harsh lessons at Giovanni's hands had taught him that much.

"Purr?" his father's Pokemon asked, padding up to him.

"Hush!" he hissed. The sleek Persian fell silent.

He couldn't decide what he was supposed to do. Giovanni had promised him many things, each more outlandish than the next, for the day when Team Rocket at last conquered … but it had never happened. A couple of rookie trainers had seen to that. Now they had nothing.

Trainers … his eyes roved towards his Persian, standing still and watching him plainitively. He could become a trainer. Travel the land without a care for what happened here in this stinking place. Get a Pokemon with some power to it, one that could help him. One of Oak's starters … no. They were too close to Pallet Town. Word of the thievery would get out, and Giovanni would connect the dots, deduce his location, and swoop in to punish him.

He shuddered at the thought, quickly casting about for another solution. Johto, perhaps? Yes, of course. Considering all the hassle it would take to get to a region … sure, Giovanni would never think to look for him there. And they had a lab there, too, with its own starter Pokemon. Not to mention that, for whatever reason, he felt a grudging surge of excitement at the thought of going to Johto. He couldn't see why – the region meant nothing to him, nothing – but he still felt inexplicably drawn to the place. He decided to trust his gut on this one. It was all or nothing.

"Purr?" Persian meowed quietly as the boy got to his feet, determination etched onto his features.

"See you, Persian," he murmured, patting the big cat's head absently as he slunk towards the vast entry hall. "I'll be celebrating my tenth birthday as a trainer."

And he headed off for freedom.

Age Ten

"I mean, the whole coming-of-age thing is exciting and all, but training isn't everything!" Ethan was saying. "Breeding's got the whole range of possibilities! There's grooming, and feeding, and breeding too, obviously—"

Lyra suppressed a sigh, keeping her eyes fixed on the lab up ahead. Ethan meant well, but he just didn't understand that breeding held as much interest for her as wading in a cutesy cotton candy cloud. Give me a tough road over a cushy thing like breeding any day.

"I can still save a place for you in the program if you're interested!" he called after her as she stepped off the road and onto the walkway leading up to the lab.

She just rolled her eyes.

Inside, the nerdy-looking professor guided her around for a bit, droning on about Pokemon and whatever else he could think of, before he finally and mercifully led her towards a tray holding three Poke Balls, each with an elemental symbol over it to distinguish the Pokemon within. He started to tell her about said Pokemon, but she cut him off hastily, explaining that she'd already studied the three starters and knew a fair amount about them, at which point he just gave up.

Chikorita was definitely out – way, way too cutesy. As for the other two … she rubbed her chin, thinking over it. Something flitted across her memory, the color red. It was only momentary, but somehow she felt herself drawn to that scarlet shade. Red. Right now she wanted red.

"I'll take Cyndaquil," she said, and the professor exhaled in a badly-disguised sigh of relief.

She hadn't gone twenty steps from the lab when a loud crash and a cry of alarm brought her swiveling around, dashing in the direction of the unexpected commotion. Near the back of the lab, where window glass lay scattered across the grass, she noticed a red-haired boy her age attempting to scramble up the fence. It didn't take a genius to see what happened.

"Hey, you!" she shouted, causing the boy to topple off the fence in surprise. "Yeah, you, with the guilty conscience! What d'you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" the boy replied coolly, brushing himself off slightly before attempting to pull himself over the fence again.

"Oh, no you don't!" she exclaimed. "Cynthie, take him down!"

The boy sighed, dropping to the ground again and removing his own stolen Poke Ball. A second later, a blue crocodile materialized, glancing about curiously for a moment before getting pummeled by the fiery rodent's flying tackle.

"Get up and Scratch it!" he barked, turning and finding handholds on the fence for the third time. When he reached the top, however, he saw to his dismay that the Cyndaquil had been relentless in her barrage, resulting in a thoroughly unconscious Totodile.

"Nice job, Cynthie!" Lyra cheered. Then she turned to the boy again, as he wordlessly recalled his Pokemon. She frowned slightly, thinking. Something about him was intriguing her, though she couldn't put her finger on the reason why. "And where're you going?"

"Away from you, girl," he replied, swinging his legs over the top of the fence.

"The name is Lyra!" she clarified, before indignation was replaced again by curiosity. "And you are …?"

The boy, who'd been about to jump to the other side, paused. He was staring at her, though not in a way that made her feel angry or embarrassed. He seemed instead to be somewhat confused, looking as though he were trying to memorize her face. She wouldn't have been surprised if his expression mirrored her own.

The sound of wailing sirens seemed to snap his mind back to reality.

"Silver," he said shortly. "My name's Silver."

And he was gone.

Age Eleven

Silver peered suspiciously into the darkness. There was definitely somebody coming this way. Idiots. Couldn't anyone let him train in peace?

He swung the flashlight beam into the other's face. He was rewarded with an angry shriek and a sharp smack.

"What was that for?" Lyra demanded, rubbing her eyes in an attempt to clear them.

"Why do you keep following me?" he asked, ignoring her question. He placed a hand on his injured cheek, gritting his teeth. She always agitated him.

"I don't follow you," she said, rolling her eyes. "I'm just exploring."

"So your little anti-Rocket campaign can be put on hold?" He scoffed. "Typical."

"They're not a problem," she snickered. "With that leadership …"

The memory of Giovanni's leering face floated to the surface of his mind. He pushed it away.

"Haven't you tried opening this door?" she asked, moving around him and standing before an imposing-looking iron door. She pushed at the deadbolt, but if it was moving, it wasn't being obvious about it.

"Old basements …" He waved a hand dismissively. "The only interesting things in here are wild Pokemon. And even then, a lot of them aren't up to par. In fact—"

The deadbolt slid free with an abrupt screeching sound, prompting the two to jump practically to the ceiling. Heart racing wildly, Silver turned to glare at Lyra, but she was already pulling the rusty old door open. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he joined her, and the two peeked into the room beyond.

Three enormous beasts gazed back at them.

The door flew open of its own accord; the beasts leapt, easily clearing their heads in a rush of wind, soaring through the air for several feet, hitting the ground running, going, going, gone, until even the sound of their mighty footfalls faded into echoing nothingness.

They stared after the creatures, eyes wide.

"Suicune …" Lyra whispered almost reverently.

The name of the beast stirred Silver's memory again, tantalizingly. In the midst of his stunned astonishment, he felt a twinge of annoyance. What was with this girl?

Age Twelve

"Can you stop showing off?" Silver growled, tapping his foot impatiently. "It's unbelievably annoying."

"So are you," Lyra retorted, but put her badge case away all the same. "Been a while, huh?"

"Sure." He shrugged. "Hard to remember."

She blinked. "What?"

"You know, with you popping up all the time, I tend to lose track." He strode away nonchalantly. "I have places to be. See you later, girl."

She glared after him until he'd turned a corner and left her sight, though the word remember lingered in her brain for far longer.

Age Thirteen

"C'mere!"

"Urk!" she gasped as a hand snagged her by the back of her shirt, pulling her into the broom closet nearby. She managed to get in a punch to the jaw before the door completely closed, plunging everything into blackness.

"Ow!"

A red beam flashed, releasing the slender, fiery form of Cynthie the Quilava. In the light of her flame, Lyra's angry expression and Silver's fresh new bruise were both plainly visible.

"What the hell was that for?" she growled, taking a step towards him.

"I didn't know it was you!" he exclaimed hastily, holding up both hands as if to protect himself. "I was just going to knock out the first Rocket I saw, I swear!"

"And you manage to nab the only fake one in the middle of a hundred real thieves," she huffed. "Nice going. Probably blew my cover—"

"Look, if it makes you feel better, I'm sorry, okay? Now, I guess you were going to get to the Tower—"

"Wait, wait, wait. Did you just say you were sorry?" She ogled him as though he were some fascinating creature in a zoo. "Silver the Snooty, saying sorry? Pinch me, Cynthie, I'm dreaming."

"I already said it," he said tersely.

She rolled her eyes. "Great. If you'll excuse me, I need to go find another way to get into that Tower." And she was out the door before he could get in another word.

He sighed, slumping to the floor. With Cynthie gone, everything had been swallowed in shadow again.

Not that he cared. He was considering what would happen when Lyra made it to the top of the Tower. Ariana would be there – his mother, the infamous Rocket Executive. He didn't know what exactly had occurred there since he'd fled, but he knew that, villain or not, she was still the closest thing he had to family.

He wondered vaguely how the confrontation would go and found himself surprised that he was putting his faith in Lyra to win it.

Age Fourteen

"Silver Sakaki~" she sang, skipping over to him.

He shook his head to himself. She could be so disgustingly cheery at times. And she was showing off again. Typical.

"Where have you been hiding?" she asked in an almost accusatory tone, putting her hands on her hips. "I thought you were going to cheer me on against the Elite Four. I didn't hear you yelling for me."

"I don't yell for anyone," he replied, half incredulous that he was repeating such a silly statement. "Isn't it enough that I was there … Champion?"

She grinned. "Well, at least you called me that."

"You're gloating again, you know."

"Am not!"

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Are—" He caught himself. "I can't believe I'm arguing about this. You are gloating, girl. Word to the wise: people'll appreciate your achievements more if you don't shove them in their faces."

"I came here to talk to Silver, not some Zen dude," she said, rolling her eyes. "How're things?"

He remembered a time when he would have simply sneered at that question. Now he simply nodded thoughtfully. "Fine."

Age Fifteen

"Mr. Sakaki?"

The two glanced up from their conversation to see a weathered-looking youngish man approach their bench, a blue frog striding through the grass alongside him.

"Oh, business and whatever. I can go—" Lyra said, starting to get up.

"You will not," Silver interjected, pulling her back down. "We haven't finished talking. Yes, I'm Silver, what seems to be the problem?"

"Silver," the man repeated with a nod. "I'm Looker Handsome, private investigator. I've been following a rather macabre case, and we ended up making a … distressing discovery." He shifted uncomfortably. "We found your father, Giovanni Sakaki, at the bottom of Tohjo Falls. Evidence suggests suicide."

He said several other things, but Silver didn't appear to have heard. By the time Looker had given his condolences again and departed with Croagunk, his head was buried in his hands, fingers clenching hair like a lifeline.

Lyra still didn't know a lot about his past, but she did know that Silver's relationship with his father hadn't been a particularly smooth one. With that in mind, it was hard to understand why he appeared to be grieving for him. If Giovanni was really as cruel as she'd heard, why would Silver bother mourning?

Still, she sat beside him as the sun crossed to the lower western sky and sank beyond the horizon, respectfully silent in the midst of chirping Kricketot, then the somber call of Hoothoot, then the soft fluttering of Zubat wings. Hours passed, and neither moved or spoke.

It was very late, or else very early, when Silver finally sat up straight again and sighed. "Thanks for sticking around," he muttered. If he had cried at all, the darkness masked his tears.

She squeezed his shoulder. "What are friends for?"

Friends? He mulled over her words, attempting to pull himself out of his despair. Friends were for weaklings. He didn't need one, he assured himself.

And yet, sitting there in the darkness, he found that he did.

Age Sixteen

They stood atop a mighty cliff, gazing down at Tohjo Falls. The mighty waters gushed earthward, throwing the light into misty rainbows that shimmered and sparkled.

Lyra hoped Silver wasn't thinking morbidly about this. He seemed to have gotten over the news of his father's death, but it had to be difficult standing just feet from where the man had plummeted the year before. Sometimes she wondered if Silver blamed himself for the tragedy. She hoped not. It wasn't his fault.

"You know," he said after a long moment, "as far as dying goes, he didn't have such a bad one. Might've even been exciting, with all the shrieking air and pounding water flying past." He smirked slightly. "Power to the end, huh, Dad?"

He shook his head, almost chuckling as he touched Lyra's shoulder and turned away.

Age Seventeen

Silver drummed the edge of the fence impatiently. Shouldn't she have come home by now? It was almost ten. He glared into the darkness, counting every second that flitted by as he waited for the first sign of approaching headlights. That date of hers had better watch his step.

Soon he was watching the car pull up in front of the house, belching gasoline, as Lyra emerged from the passenger's seat. She waved goodnight to the driver, and Silver couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. Everything was fine. She was okay.

"Silver?" she asked, walking onto the porch as the car drove away. "What're you doing here?"

"Making sure you got home safely," he replied.

She scoffed. "My mom's just inside waiting. I'm pretty sure I don't need two people watching the clock for me."

"You never know."

"Oh, come on, Silver. Ethan Solo's not a bad guy. It was just a date, nothing serious." She stared at him shrewdly. "Kind of weird that you should be worried about me."

"I wasn't worried!" he said defensively. "I was just …" He glanced around, fishing for a word. "Concerned."

"Concerned," she repeated, smirking.

"Whatever." He shook his head, stalking quickly away before she could needle him about it anymore.

Age Eighteen

"And then Arceus summoned this enormous blast of windy shadow, or something, and there was the egg!" Lyra gestured wildly for emphasis, almost knocking over her soda. "Can you believe it, Silver? Cynthia doesn't think something like that's going to happen again in, I dunno, a couple hundred years. It was utterly incredible, Silver." She took a deep breath, then sighed. "I wish you could've seen it."

He nodded, not mentioning that her happiness at the memory easily made up for it.

Age Nineteen

He swallowed, hearing the doorbell echo within the house. Shuffling his feet slightly, he glanced at the purplish tulip to make sure it was still snug and secure in the flower box. He knew Lyra would have brained him if he'd brought roses instead.

Talia opened the door. "Yes?" she asked, smiling.

"Ms. Hart, I've, uh …" He held up the box, then realized she might misinterpret his gesture and instead continued speaking. "I've come for Lyra. I mean, to take her out. For the evening. For a date." He cursed himself silently, wishing he could be more coherent.

Her smile grew wider. "I know. She's mentioned it to me."

He sighed. Girls …

Then Lyra appeared beside her mother, and the thought vanished.

Age Twenty

"There's something about sunsets," Lyra mused, staring at the colorful sky with wondering eyes. "It's like, there are all these colors, in the sky, that logically shouldn't go together at all. Except they do. And it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"But not the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

She squeezed his hand tighter. "Oh, you," she giggled.

"No, I mean it!"

"I know, I know ..."

Grass and flowers brushed against their ankles as they waded through the meadow together, hand in hand, watching Pidgeotto soar above them, chasing each other on the breeze. Trees stretched towards the sky, branches thick with leaves. Lyra took a deep breath of crisp, cool air. What could make the scene more perfect?

A patch of color appeared in the corner of her vision. Turning her head, she noticed a patch of little blue flowers standing out from the surrounding grass. Silver, noticing her distraction, looked over as well.

"What do you know," he said, reaching down and plucking a few out of the ground. "Forget-me-nots. I didn't think they'd start blooming this early." He offered them to her, a miniature blue bouquet. "Don't forget to remember me, milady." He smirked, giving a mocking bow for good measure.

She snorted with laughter, pinching the flowers from his grip. "You're too kind, good sir," she said, playing his little game. "But surely you know blue is no color for—"

She froze, staring at the flowers. He shot her a surprised look, somehow understanding.

"No color for a girl," she breathed.

And suddenly a montage of memories flashed behind her eyes: opening presents, scampering about playfully, getting mud all over little clothes as she tossed dirt at shrieking girls nearby – all with a scarlet-haired little boy. Sitting in a tree house, taking a small flower much like these from the boy. And then long years of cold boredom, waiting to find herself.

Not realizing she'd lost it already.

"Don't forget me." Silver swallowed hard.

Lyra raised her eyes to meet his. "It was you," she breathed, a wondering smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "It was always you."

"Lyra …" he murmured.

She threw arms around neck, standing on tiptoes to plant her mouth on his, tears forming in the corners of her eyes at the joy of finally remembering. "I won't let you leave me again," she gasped, breaking away to pause for breath. She stared into his amazed face, and he simply grinned back at her. "No more forgetting. I'll keep you in my heart forever."

"Forever and ever," he echoed, drawing her close to him and resuming their kiss.

Age Twenty-One

Two newborn babies slept in neighboring cradles in New Bark Hospital's maternity ward. One bore the start of crimson locks; the other had tufts of chocolate-brown.