I CHOOSE YOU

Mewtwo and Sabrina have been together for a year. But when Mewtwo meets Newtwo, Sabrina wonders if he's found his real match. A romance fic.

Natsume was waiting for Mewtwo under the covers of the bed when he returned. She stared up at him with an inviting smirk, and that grin widened when he drew back the light blanket and sheets over her. Naked, porcelain skin greeted his gaze. She shivered and whispered, "Either come here or put that back. It's cold in here."

"Says the woman lying naked under the covers," he pointed out as he crawled into the bed next to her. He reached out and ran his paw down her side. Her skin felt warm in comparison to his. But then, he had decided to go out on a spring night in Unova, when snow and ice storms were still commonplace, even this late into the year.

She made a small noise of complaint at his touch – "Your paws are icy!" – but even so, she did not move away from him.

He smirked at her, weaving an arm around her waist and drawing her closer still. "Warm me up?"

The light in her red eyes danced, her smile turning devilish as she murmured, "Maybe I will." And she did, kissing at his muzzle and then down his throat. Her fingers traced along his collarbone and the ridges of his chest, while she hitched a leg over his hip and ran it down his own legs. For not the first time, he wondered how an ex-shrine maiden could be so willing to be with someone like him. But he did not question it as grabbed her lifted leg beneath the knee and rolled her under him. He nuzzled at her neck and breasts and nipped at her shoulders, and groaned and salivated when she rubbed at the bulge between his legs. It didn't take long for the arousal to have its full effect, and there was a moment of vulnerability when she glanced down between them to look at his manhood. But she liked what she saw – "That's a good boy" – and his confidence returned in full. He pressed against her and moaned at the pleasure of his fingers wrapping around him, and ran through a list of things he could do to return the favor.

The red, silky sheets were soon clinging to them both, but they didn't mind. Her skin was slick against his fur, which in itself was damp from snow and sweat. There was heat, too – blessed heat that drove the chill from his body and left them gasping. He'd pushed her hands up and away, not wanting to let her finish him like that. He stroked her between her thighs until his fingers were drenched, until she was keening against his shoulder and grinding against his touch. He slid a finger into her, then two, rocking his paw against her clit until she moaned that she needed more, that she needed him.

"Turn over then," he whispered.

He memorized the way she looked then – one arm curled over her head, her other hand touching her breast and stomach, her cheeks flushed, eyes glassy, her lips parted in a pant. He wouldn't be able to see her expression when he mounted her. While they had experimented with a number of positions, taking her from behind had proven to be the most comfortable for them both. Besides, he'd be able to get all the way in her this way. So she nodded and got onto her hands and knees, leaning into the pillows and presenting her backside to him. He licked and nipped her down her spine, watching the shiver crawl along her limbs. Then he guided himself to her sex and thrust in, hard and deep, and relished the sound she made as he did. He stayed like that for a moment, leaning over her and encircling his arms around her from above. He squeezed at her breasts, feeling his nipples firm against his palms, and then swept them down over her stomach and between her legs, running a finger over her clit.

She moaned and rocked back against him, and then in a low, throaty voice, somewhat muffled by the pillows, said, "Gods damn you, fuck me already."

He laughed and did as told. He straightened and grabbed the curve between his hips and legs, drawing back and thrusting back in, dragging her into him as he did so. He rolled back his head as the pleasure of it, sighing in satisfaction, and continued moving into her. She rocked back against him in the same rhythm, eager and hot and wet and so, so firm around him.

Of course, keeping a slow pace could not last. Need outweighed the desire to draw the act out, their movements quickening and growing much more forceful. He leaned across her back, panting into her hair and biting at her neck as he pumped into her. She, in turn, slammed back into him, gasping oaths that would have burned in her parents' ears. He pressed her down, changing the angle, hitting her just where she needed to be hit, and felt a smug glow of satisfaction when she shouted and shuddered around him, her skin erupting into goosebumps as she came.

Now it's my turn, he thought with a grin, and began pounding home into her slick heat, feeling the pressure and the pleasure of it build and build. He listened to her moans, taking some pride in that fact that she liked this, and gritted his teeth as he began to feel so close. Almost there. Over the sound of his breaths and the ringing in his ears, he heard Natsume say, "Ah Mewtwo, Mewtwo. Do it, finish it, oh gods!"

She rocked back sharply and he thrust in with equal force, and that did it – he came in her, hard, and it was a long moment before he could bring himself back together again. They'd sunken into the covers by the time he did, with him still lodged in her and breathing hard against her back. She was doing the same into the pillows, her hands grabbing fistfuls of the sheets, and she made a quiet, protesting noise as he pulled out of her. He lifted himself from her and settled back down onto his side, facing her, and she turned on her side to look at him. Her face was flushed and sweaty, her eyes were dancing, and he wondered if any sight could appeal to him more than Natsume right after he'd fucked her.

Maybe Natsume right before he fucked her. It was really a hard choice.

She reached out then and flicked him on the nose, which made a rather uncharacteristic and embarrassing yelp escape him. As he rubbed at his muzzle, giving her an offended look, she smirked and murmured, "Dirty kitty. That's awful language."

"Says the woman who demanded I fuck her and cursed throughout the fucking." She'd read his thoughts again. Once, that would and had disturbed him. Now it was just one of those things that they did without entirely intending to – especially when it came to having sex.

"I never hear you complaining," she pointed out, rolling onto her back with a sigh. His nipples pointed to the ceiling like tiny, rigid peaks. She glanced at him and smirked. She never really understood why he found her breasts so fascinating, but then, they were mundane to her. Though come to think of it, he wasn't certain why he enjoyed them so much either. Really, though, his favorite part of her body was probably her legs – the firm muscles and the miles of smooth skin. Of course, what was between then was rather nice, too. And her stomach. And her hands. And her eyes and hair. Actually, he tried to think of a part of her body he didn't like and couldn't come up with anything. He vaguely recalled not finding her all those appealing from a physical standpoint when they'd first met – at least, he'd understood her to be aesthetically pleasing according to human norms, but it had taken rather longer for him to think about her in a sexual way. He simply hadn't been that type of creature.

Of course, once he started to see her like that, it had all gone downhill from there – if sharing her bed could be considered going downhill. There were some real perks to their relationship, after all – among them the rather pleasant afterglow he was currently suspended in.

She turned back to face him, tucking an arm underneath her head and running the fingertips of her other hand over his knuckles. "So, did you find that anomaly you decided to skip dessert for?"

"I rather think I did enjoy my dessert. But no," he admitted, lacing his finger with hers, "I did not find the psychic we sensed. She fled when she sensed my approach."

"Ah. That's too bad," Natsume said, looking at their hands. Then she met his eyes and gave him a reassuring smile. "Perhaps she will be alright on her own, though. After all, if she could sense and successfully evade you, she probably does not have much to worry about from others."

"Perhaps. I think I might stay a day or two more, just to be certain."

"Oh." There was a note of disappointment in her voice, then. She understood, though, and did not try to dissuade him. Instead she said, "I'll let everyone know you will be coming back late. You'd best bring something nice with you, or your wards will be most put out."

He snorted. "They are not all children," he reminded her – needlessly, because she knew that as well as he did. Yet still, she might have a point – his wards had asked him to bring something back for them, since few, if any, would ever have the chance to go to – or return to – Unova in their lifetimes. The distance was simply too far to travel between on a mere whim, even for those who made a habit of teleporting from one end of Natsume Kurosawa's lands to the other, regardless of how unnecessary it was to do so. Then again, he supposed that was another expression of the freedom to do as they pleased – and given he made a habit of bedding a human woman, he couldn't judge them for such a minor bit of questionable behavior.

Sometimes he wondered at how much his life had changed in the last few years.

Years ago, after his fellows clones had dispersed and he'd traveled far from Mt. Quena, he'd settled in Unova – thinking that surely, this time, his past could not catch up with him. He would have a fresh start in a new land, in a bustling city that he could spend years exploring and lose himself among the crowds (in a metaphorical sense, at least – he never risked walking amongst the humans. Flying over them was much more appealing anyways). He had been glimpsed, of course – he knew that stories had been told about the cloaked, moonlight roaming pokémon. Some groups of trained had even made it their mission to find, battle, and capture the elusive pokémon. Yet no human had gotten near enough to even make the attempt – and in time, Mewtwo, missing his family of clones more than he'd thought he could, had slowly made a new family for himself. Psychic pokémon from all over Unova – and eventually from lands farther than that – had flocked to him. Some had wanted him to be their teacher, but most had come to him for protection. He had somehow, without realizing it, developed a reputation for being the kind of person that, "Though aloof and really prickly," nonetheless did everything he could to keep his flock safe and happy. And if, for some reason, Mewtwo offered some offense, they could leave at any time.

Mewtwo had learned much from the incident at Mt. Quena. How to let people go was one of those things.

It had been about three years into his stay when the city had held its first convention for psychics. He'd warned his charges to remain reclusive until it had passed – the city would be crawling with psychic pokémon trainers and masters and breeders, all looking for potential stock for their teams or centers. Some had gone out for precisely that reason, of course – the allure of the strength found in partnering with a human and the glory of battles were alluring to some. Others had heeded his advisement to the point where barely he'd been able to locate them. He had circled through his unmarked territory, keeping watch for any who might intend to harm his people or him.

At it had turned out, though, someone else had advised those trainers and master and breeders to avoid doing what he'd feared. In fact, the only human who had wandered into his territory, her psychic aura blazing, had been a woman from a noble, Kantonese family. Natsume Kurosawa had sat on a bench on one of the path of the national park bordering the city, had pulled out a paperback novel, and had read about halfway through it by the time he'd decided there was no risk in confronting her.

When he'd stepped out from the trees, his cloak wrapped securely around him, she'd smiled and said, "You must be the moonlight wanderer I keep hearing about. I'd wondered if you were ever going to come out and say hello."

"I see my reputation has preceded me. Yours, on the other hand, had not. Who are you and why have you come here?"

She closed her book and leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. She'd been wearing a lot of black – black shoes, black leggings, and a black skirt. The red blouse, though, brought out the strange color of her eyes: a deep crimson, like the color of jujube berries in the autumn or the deadly, poison berries of the winter. "How surprising. I thought you would recognize me. But I suppose it has been six years, and we never met in any official capacity." Seeing his confusion, she explained, "My name is Natsume Kurosawa. I am the Gym Leader of Saffron City, who specializes in psychic types. I knew your – who I can only assume was your master, Sakaki. Admittedly, I did not know he had you in his possession – I would have inquired into your training and well-being if I had. However, I did feel your destroy his – shall we say, private base? Yes, that will do nicely. I meant to track you down after that, but then there was that awful storm, and by the time I realized you were in Johto, you'd vanished once again."

He hadn't been certain what to say to that. She laughed after a moment and shook her head. "You made little attempt to hide yourself from psychics, then and now. Admittedly, I was surprised to find you here, but it was a pleasant surprise. You've traveled far from home."

At that he'd bristled and said, "Kanto was never my home."

"Perhaps not," she admitted. And then she'd stared straight into his eyes and said, "But it could be."

"I sincerely doubt that." He had been content in Unova at the time. He'd given no thought to returning to Kanto at any point in his future. What was the point in going back when he could continue moving forward?

"Please listen to my proposal first before you decide that," she'd said, leaning forward and set a hand on the bench beside her.

He continued standing. After a moment, she shrugged, and had explained her proposal to him. She was a Gym Leader, but also the headmistress of an academy as well, where she – among others – taught psychic children how to use their powers and provided them with an education. She was facing a few problems at the moment relating to that. The first was that she, had the headmistress, had many tasks to attend to – which would not be a problem, if she didn't also need to be more involved with the recruitment process and the protection of her charges. She had delegated these tasks to others, but there were maybe one or two human psychics who could match her caliber. As such, it took multiple staff members to guard the grounds, which meant there were less people to attend to squabbles that happened within the dormitories – but he didn't want to know about that. The point was that she didn't have time to chase out the lurkers like she once had, years ago when her class sizes had been much smaller. She also couldn't check to see if all of the new students were safe to allow around others, so there had been one or two incidences where abuses of power had occurred and expulsion had been the only option. The end result of the latter had, in one way or another, reflected poorly on the academy and her in the past.

More to the point, though, her academy was only attracting human psychics – and both Mewtwo and she knew well that psychic pokémon could be and were just as in need of assistance as anyone else. The problem, as Natsume saw it, was that there were no powerful psychic pokémon on the grounds that weren't partnered with humans. The implication of that was that the only way a pokémon could come to the academy was in a pokéball, which was not Natsume's intention. As such, when she'd heard the rumors of the dense psychic population in this forest, which was guarded over by an even more powerful pokémon, she'd been intrigued. If he would come and stay on her lands, then perhaps the psychic pokémon in need might be willing to seek out the academy as well. They would see that it was a place where psychic pokémon were respected, where they would be safe and taught by one of their own. They would see that she was willing to provide for their needs, and that she had no intention of harming them or trying to capture them. She just wanted to help in what little of a way she could.

But she could do a lot more for them if Mewtwo teamed up with her – in the business sense of the term, of course.

"I will be here for the week. Please take your time in making your decision." She'd told him where she was staying and had then walked back up the path, not giving him a backwards glance.

Had she not given him that week, he would have turned her down immediately. As it was, he spent the first two days furious at her gall and certain he wouldn't consider her request. He had no reason to return to Kanto and every reason to avoid it. While Sakaki no longer remembered him, the very proximity was asking for trouble. Of course, Team Rocket had also expanded considerably over the years. He'd heard that there had been glimpses of them in Unova itself, butting heads with Team Plasma both in battle and on the ideologies. Moreover, it was not as if his wards were perfectly safe here – there had been one or two captures in the past. He was only one person; as powerful as he was, he could not be everywhere at once. What Natsume Kurosawa was offering was a scenario not all that different from his current one: he was guarding over an unmarked territory, which his wards could leave as they willed, or stay and have the security of knowing they probably would not be used by humans. However, what Natsume Kurosawa was offering was added protection: her lands were officially private grounds, which were punishable by an extremely large fine to trespass into. There was also the very real threat of psychics attacking the invaders in they threatened one of the residents. Admittedly, that was the case here as well, but humans tended to pay more heed to their own kind, despite the fact that pokémon were rather more lethal.

He'd consulted his wards on what they wished to do. His students were willing to follow him, as were many of the lone pokémon was had no ties to the land. Others, who had created families of their own, were much more split on the subject. Some were willing to make the move for the continued – and strengthened – protection the arrangement offered, while others were dismayed at the suggestion. Why move when their home was here? It would be one thing to move to another part of Unova – but this arrangement would require them to move to a new continent, where many of their species were not native to. What if they wanted to seek out mates later – or if their children wished to? What if some of them needed to find or create their own packs when they were old enough? What if they could not survive there due to not having the proper food or habitat or other resources? The last question was easy to offer a solution for, but the others were real problems he could not resolve.

Yet what angered him was when those same pokémon not only expressed dismay, but seemed to resent him for potentially leaving them behind. They wanted him to stay so they could be safe – which was understandable, but he had also never intended to become such a guardian, tied to this land and to these people. They had come to him on their own, and now it seemed as if they wished to use him for what he could offer them. It was a nuance to their relationship that he had not seen before – his fellow clones had never tried to enforce an obligation onto him, despite the fact that they'd had more of a right to. After all, he had created them – but in the end, when he had let them go, they had done the same for him. They had wanted to be free to pursue their own lives, and they had welcomed him to do the same.

To be fair to his new wards, while a majority were uncertain about the move, it was a minority that resented him for this. If the move was made, then most would be thankful that his protection had lasted this long, and not blame him for wanting to move on. Some would even be willing to go with him, so long as he confirmed that Natsume Kurosawa was good on her word. So over the next few days, he had researched the woman. The Kurosawa family, to his surprise, had ties to the imperial family – too distant to have any claim to the throne, but enough to be esteemed and rather wealthy. Natsume Kurosawa herself was the heir to the main branch of her clan, and had a rather prestigious history. After what seemed to be a turbulent adolescence, she had taken over the gym and founded her academy. She'd also earned degrees in psychology and advanced pokémon studies, and spent some of her free time volunteering at Saffron's Shinto Temple. She also apparently enjoyed reading and hated violent storms – that was in her bio as well. Really, if she had any shortcomings in terms of what could be desired in an heir, it was that she hadn't married and produced some heirs of her own, yet. There was a rumor in one of the forums that she was betrothed to some man named Goyō, but there was no hard evidence for that.

All in all, what he discovered was that Natsume seemed a perfectly respectable person.

That being said, he wasn't certain he would be willing to join her. After all, doing so would bind him to her and the psychics of Kanto in what seemed like an irrevocable way. He would not be able to leave on a whim. He would have to commit to this occupation, with no foreseeable benefit to himself. In fact, he would lose something – his ability to roam as he wished – and his wards would have to make an even more drastic change. Moreover, what had he to gain by returning to Kanto? What would be there that would make up for the nightmares associated with his past?

He explained all of this to Natsume Kurosawa, who had sat on the end of her hotel bed, a cup of tea in her hands. After a long moment, she'd looked at him and asked, "What is your name, by the way? I forgot to ask."

He'd blinked and then frowned in annoyance. "My name is Mewtwo. Have you been listening to what I've been saying all this time?"

"I have." Then she stood, coming within a foot from him, and said, "And I think you're making a mistake, Mewtwo."

"Excuse me?" Who was she to question him? He had made his decision not to-

"You think your current life is the one you want. But I think you are fooling yourself. Yu say you want to roam freely, but you have stayed bound to this city willingly for years and only want that freedom when your bonds are point out to you. You also say you want to be alone, yet you welcome company whenever it is offered, letting you relationship grow to the point where you cannot easily let them go. For someone who claims to be a lone wanderer, you are far more connected to the world and its people."

She went on, "I think you want to find a place to belong. I think you want to find a cause and a family to dedicate yourself to. And I think you will not be happy until you find those things. I'm offering all of this, if only you would agree to become my partner."

The word "partner" made the hair along his spine prickle up. He clenched his hands into fists and hissed, "Another human once sought to make me his partner. Instead he used me, treating me as if I were nothing more than his slave."

"I am not Sakaki," she said firmly. "I admit, I want you to join me for what you can do. But like any position, you would be compensated. More than that, if it turns out you hate it – if it makes you miserable – I would be willing to let you go. I just want you to try and see what happens."

He hadn't known what to say in response to that, but her words resonated with him. A place to belong – a purpose – a family – he'd longer for all of that for ages, and it seemed she knew just how to sell the job to him. It almost seemed too good – too tempting – when she put it that way.

She reached out, resting her hand on his forearm – he shifted back and away, and she smiled slightly, a little disappointed, and said, "I'm leaving in the morning. If you change your mind, let me know and I'll make travel arrangements for you."

He hadn't said anything. Instead he had returned to his territory and didn't contact her in the morning. Natsume had waited as long as she could, but had then sighed and boarded her place.

A week after her arrival home, she'd witness what would only be considered a psychic pokémon migration into her lands. When she'd gone to investigate, Mewtwo had stepped for the trees and had given her exasperated – but also slightly mocking – look. "I am afraid it takes more than twelve hours to move whole families. I expect you to provide for their needs. It will cost you."

"That can be arranged. Is there anything you need for yourself, Mewtwo?" she'd asked, relief washing through her.

He'd stared at her for a long moment, seeming to assess her – but had ultimately replied, "I will let you know if there is. Now if you will excuse me, I need to rest."

She must have followed him to the grove where he' decided to spend the night, because he'd woken up half a day later with a blanket draped over him.

Over the next few years, he had settled into his role as the guardian of Natsume's lands and the teachers of the psychic pokémon who arrived on the grounds. He'd grown to respect his new partner greatly. Then he'd grown to favor her company, for she had a sharp mind and a warm spirit, and a fondness for books and debate. Then he'd grown to value her more than any other – which many had informed him was suitable in a mate. After all, pokémon did not necessarily have the concept of a business partnership – they saw him and Natsume interacting, saw the traded glances and smiles and little touches, and saw behavior suitable in mates. The idea had initially proven ambivalent to him – and he'd found that looking at her in that way certainly made him notice more things: the way she interacted with men. The lithe build and the tone muscles. The way her eyes shined when she laughed. How nice her little touches felt. And he'd started noticing when she wore loose robes, or those skirts, or those tight blouses.

Of course, by the time he'd really begun to consider superfluous benefits to their relationship, he'd mired himself in arguing with himself over her being a human. He'd also struggled to come to terms with the fact that he wasn't as asexual as he had thought. The concept of sex in general was nerve-wracking – he'd never thought of himself engaging in it, for one thing. For another, there seemed to be no indications that she cared for him in return. So he had attempted to set his desires aside and focus on his occupation and their friendship instead.

But then, one night in midwinter, as a blizzard blazed outside the gardener's cottage he'd repurposed, she'd come to him bearing soup and a soft smile. She'd been covered in snow, and after he' closed the door behind them, she'd shed her scarf, gloves, jacket, and boots. She'd gone over to the hearth where he'd started a fire, while he'd gotten some bowls for the soup. They'd eaten silently, and he'd looked at her face, flushed from the wind and the cold, and the snow melting in her hair. The droplets sparkled, and he later hadn't been certain why he'd done it, but he'd set his bowl down, leaned over to her, and had threaded his fingers through her hair. She'd stared at him, but smiled.

"Do you remember when you said I should let you know if I ever needed something?"

She'd reached up, setting her hand over his, and replied, "I do. And since then you have been frustratingly reticent on the subject."

"I think I have found something I need."

She'd leaned towards him. "Oh really? And what is that?" She'd been mere inches away from him.

And he'd closed the distance between them, pressing his cheek to hers and nuzzling at her hair, and whispered, "You."

She'd given an uncharacteristic giggle, but had said yes and had let him take charge, guiding him when need be. He'd pressed her down into the blanket they'd spread out before the fire and slowly, surely, they'd peeled away her clothes and the occupied themselves with exploring one another. The remaining soup had been left to go cold, and admittedly that first time hadn't been perfect. They'd been uncertain, and the attempt to kiss had been far too awkward to repeat, and she'd pinched his arm with her when she'd tried embracing him. Then there had been the sex itself, which been a continuation of that. He'd nearly come in her hands, and they'd wanted to mate face-to-face – and had. But his hips and thighs were wide, and while flexible, Natsume was only so nimble. The strain had left her sore for days afterwards, and his thrusts had been rather shallow and unsatisfying. But they'd completed the act and had laid side-by-side afterwards, contemplating it.

"…I do not believe that was how that was supposed to go," he'd admitted to her.

She hadn't stopped laughing for a long time after that, before she'd taken his hand and said, "We'll get better at it."

And they had.