Disclaimer: I do not own pokémon. I do however own the OC's in this fic.

Author's Note:To the few who reviewed, thank you very much. I'm grateful to receive your responses.

Also, a friend of mine mentioned he thought my chapters are quite long. He's right, but I've been doing this, and will continue doing so, for a good reason. I don't want this story to turn out super-long like my other ongoing Mewtwo fic. I'd like to keep it under twenty chapters. The bad part of this, I realize, is that many potential readers will discontinue reading, or be put off (or uninterested) because of the length. However, I figure that at least the ones who continue to read are genuinely interested and are enjoying the story.

This is I'll have you know right now, a drama in a way. (Though I stubbornly refuse to put that in the genre.) In future chapters you'll see what I mean.

Anyhow, enough of my talking. Read and enjoy!

For future reference:

'aaa' – Sounds, like an alarm and such.

"aaa" – Song lyrics (there will only be a few of these in this fic).

"'aaa'" – A character's quoting.

'aaa' – I am quoting (I don't think there will be any of this, but just in case…).

Previously:After a near deadly battle, the Team Rocket agent is struck into unconciousness by the rightly shocked clone. After she awakens, Mewtwo attempts to question his prisoner...but has no luck succeeding in getting some answers from her. So, he requests that his roomate, the pregnant Espeon named Psyche, and another pokémon, do the interrogation instead. Oddly, before he even resorts to more persuasive, albiet violent, tactics. It also seems he knows more than he says...for he's already aware of the fact that Cassandra was sent by Giovanni.

CHAPTER 3: JUST ANOTHER FACE

Her cries, Mewtwo noticed, had ceased for quite some time now. Either she had fainted from the pain, or Psyche's will had broken, despite her anger. The small feline had always been reluctant to truly injure another being in any way, her worst being a curse and a few scratches. And even then, she would always apologize about the damage later.

Several hours passed in silence, in which the clone, despite how tired he was, could not find sleep. He snarled at himself, exasperated at that. Would his insomnia never cease? Or would his thoughts, so numerous and solemn, keep him awake until utter exhaustion struck? Perhaps resting though was futile. After all, there was so much to think on….

…The day would pass him by before he looked at the clock upon his wall, nearly starting at what it read. 8:27 PM…how had the hours fled by so quickly? He rose, somewhat growling at himself, deciding not to let more time slip by. There was no use dwelling on pointless efforts, on things that could not be helped. He blinked as he exited his room, pausing at the sudden change of light.

The evening's tone seemed to spite him, bathing the main room in a deep pinkish glow. It was a color, which he'd learned to be associated with many things. Femininity, sensuality, love…. All the words, if he were to say them now, would come out as poison. It was not as though he had anything against the first. He was not a sexist. But the others left a bitter taste in his mouth, reminding him of things he'd prefer not to recall. He'd seen many things in his short life, and comprehended them in full, even without his psychic intuition.

Crossing the room with purpose, Mewtwo logged on to the computer he'd created, hacking into various files from other locations in the city. Scanning their contents, it didn't take him long to find what sought. Soon enough, he shut the system down, walking out onto the roof. He stood there for a short time, breathing in the cold air, watching the sun drift into the city's horizon. Then, seeing the last rays of sunlight fade, he flew slowly from the spot, keeping out of the neon lights as they flickered on. He had a quick errand to run…. One which would be of much use in the next few days, he believed.

When he came back, the moon almost fully risen in the sky, he did a quick search of the contents of his thieving. There was little to worry about, he found. The clone placed the stolen things into the empty room, where he took the time to work on for a few moments. Then, reentering the living area, he gazed around with more focus.

Buzz, he observed, had left, though Psyche lay upon the couch, a bit away from the human. He awoke the feline gently, not wishing to rouse her too far from sleep. She was in need of it, after all…. The pregnant cat briefly summarized what had occurred; and the little she'd discovered. For one thing, the girl had a sharp mouth. Undoubtedly, she'd been raised in a coarse environment. To Mewtwo, this came as no surprise. For what killer had grown in anything else? Certainly none that could be easily recalled.

As Mewtwo told her she could leave, she sluggishly went to her room, where he guessed she would remain until noon the next day. This was a very good thing in his opinion, given what he had decided to do about…their "visitor".

He crossed over to where the assassin sat slumped in the chair. His sharp eyes quietly observed her, almost probingly, as though trying to memorize every detail. The thought almost made him chuckle wryly. However, despite the blood and dust smudging her, he had to admit…she was quite beautiful. Like a rare, dark gem, holding a scorching fire inside. A black opal perhaps…. Her dark hair, reaching to about her shoulder blades, framed her delicate face, quite pale in comparison. She had a small nose and fragile mouth, with high cheekbones and a single chin. And under her thin dark brows were two finely shaped eyes, though fierce as she'd gazed at him. He recalled their cold luminance, so like a type of bright metal. Her ears were not pierced. And as far as her skin went, it was scarcely erred, a stroke of luck for her. That or she'd had lemons shoved down her throat throughout puberty.

Continuing, Mewtwo observed that the rest of her was also fair, with only a few flaws he could spot. Her form was quite slender, though not to the point of being too thin. In the few places her skin was exposed, he could see that her muscles were well toned, as would be necessary for someone of her occupation. She'd have to be as physically fit as possible. He'd guess her to be about six feet in height, as she was about a head shorter than he was. Her flesh was pale, likely from the lack of exposure to the sun's rays, though her naturally tan complexion countered that. Coffee-and-cream…she could be of Latin descent. But, of course, he mused, he didn't know her heritage in the least….

In all though, she appeared healthy.

He took note of her clothes then. What she was wearing wasn't the usual Team Rocket uniform. Though it retained the black coloring; that was all. It was a surprise to see her to be wearing jeans, but she did need to blend in, at least for a time. The dark material hugged her thighs and above, flaring out slightly around her ankles. There were signs that the red 'R' insignia had been upon the side pockets, but had been removed for some reason. Giovanni must not have wished for all off his victims to know who had ordered their demise, apparently…including him.

It was another thought that made the clone wish to laugh. Thatclearlywas not the case!

Her shirt, he noticed, on the other hand, was made of a more…silky material. It hugged her form comfortably, the sleeves billowing out after the elbows to conceal weapons, which would fit inside the sheaths she'd had on her forearms before he'd removed them. He supposed such baggy sleeves might get in the way, but they had their uses. The neck cut, since her back had to be left open, consisted of going around her neck in a thin strip, alike to the choker slightly above it. It showed an appropriate amount of her collar, and her shoulders, crisscrossing to form a diamond shaped exposure that ended just above her cleavage. While she wasn't completely modest, she had her limits. And behind, to keep the whole thing from falling away was an 'X' of black material, attached to the top and bottom sides of the clothing, exposing her back, and leaving space for her wings were she wished them there.

Such an interesting feature, those wings….

Dismissing the thought, he looked again at the choker. He'd already observed that it was made of mostly black wire, twinning in a creative and fluid pattern. For thermoelectric power mostly likely. All were attached to the deceptive iron colored clasp, the brain of the device, and that held the gemlike decoration, the storage unit. Last, he noticed her dark boots that completed the outfit. It seemed to fit her personality well, in its entirety.

Yet with those observations made, one fact flared back to life in his mind. She was marred with scraps, bruises, and cuts…. Plus, some of her flesh had been burned by the electric shocks she'd been given. Mewtwo stepped closer, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to repel some of the thoughts whirling in his head. He could not think on them now, not here…. Opening his eyes, he felt an unpleasant pang go through him, looking at her. Her injuries…the hurts he himself had mainly inflicted, were the cause.

Mewtwo reached out a paw, but hesitated. After another moment though, he shook his head, having made the decision already. He would not change it now, no matter the outcome. He'd learned Recover shortly after leaving Mt. Quena, for several reasons, to give himself insurance in the more hectic world. It was time to use that ability on someone besides himself however.

Even though he had his misgivings, he reached out, touching a scrap on her face gently. A part of him seemed to twist at the feeling of her skin underneath his fingers immediately. Repressing his emotions though, he continued, and began the process of making her hurts disappear….

Darkness…pain…her skin seemed inflamed from her wounds, the warmth being anything but pleasant. The heat of it made her feel sickened, as though it were acid that turned in her stomach. In the shadows, she curled up slightly, letting herself drift within the black fog of her mind. She wished, almost desperately, for something cold, an icy liquid in which to be submerged. It seemed her prayer was answered, a strange thing as she'd so long been ignored by anyone on high. Something soft, cool, brushed against her skin, making the ache fade. She was reminded distantly of another comforting touch….

A young child…sunburned at the beach. Aloe gel, smelling fresh and crisp, coming straight from the plant…. The feeling of relief as slender hands rubbed it into her pink limbs, back, and face…. A woman with curly light brown hair, her expression scolding, and yet within her silver eyes, there was an amused sparkle. She smiled, stroking the girl's dark wet hair. Gentle…so gentle…happiness…peace….

Yet another part of Cassandra rebelled against the feeling of touch. She struggled, another memory surfacing. This one was, in contrast, not so innocent and kind. It reminded her that she hated the pressure of fingers against her skin... In her dreamscape, she twisted her form, a small moan of distress escaping her lips. Even if aiding her, she revolted against the sensation. No…no…NO!

In confusion, Cassandra slowly began to awake, her consciousness being prodded by the clone's healing. As her eyes fluttered open groggily, it took her a moment to focus her gaze. When she did though they widened, a number of emotions beginning to rise in her throat. Mewtwo then, not noticing that she'd awoken, proceeded to heal the cut across her bare naval, his fingers traveling across her lower stomach muscles. His actions and the feeling of fur against her sent a sharp shock through her, a cry rising in her throat.

"…You…PERVERT! Get away from me!" she shouted, a wide-eyed look on her face. She swiftly brought her legs up in the same moment, kicking him in the face, making him fall back in shock away from her. She curled her legs up close to her quickly, trying to eliminate the exposed feeling she'd just had. 'Formal', huh? Who in the world had labeled him that?

She watched as he picked himself up from the floor, rubbing his jaw gently. He gave her an irritated look, walking over to her again. She quickly regained her cool composure, but gave him a sharp glare. Her only discomfort was that her arms were tied behind her back. She suddenly realized the fact that her legs had been unbound; not having made the connection even as she'd struck him. Why…when had that happened…?

(I must pity your doctors, woman. How badly do you beat them for giving you medicine, or binding a wound?) He asked then, a trace of anger evident in his voice.

She snarled at him for that, "Youarenotmy doctor freak. And those I do have don't grope me!"

He stared at her for a moment, (…I did no such thing. I was merely healing you, that is all.)

Her eyes narrowed, "I can heal on my own, thank you very much."

They stared at each other for a long, tense moment, before Mewtwo bowed his head in exasperation, a paw to his brow. She was stubborn, fiery, lethal…a harsh combination indeed. She wouldn't even accept help when it was offered…at least not by him. How utterly ironic that was….

As he opened his eyes, he went behind her, making her spine crawl, the feeling of his eyes on her back. Cassandra twisted her head around to see what he was doing, watching him edgily. Then, to her shock, he leaned closer, using his powers to snap her bindings. As they fell away, she swiftly brought her hands in front of her, rubbing her sore wrists. She gave him a long, questioning look, tracking him with her eyes as he went in front of her again. A bit irritably, she realized he could have just as easily done that where he now stood. The whole point had been to make her nervous….

"…Why?" she asked, seeing him gaze at her oddly for a few moments. Cold yes, but there was something else about it that made her internally squirm. How odd, to be unsettled by something so simple and unthreatening….

Was he said next would aggravate her horribly, adding to her already present anger.

(You are of no threat to me any longer.) The clone told her, sounding almost bored.

On impulse, she hissed at him, "Excuse me? I-,"

(Be quiet. You are without weapons, your wings are gone, and you have no way of contacting anyone for aid. In physical strength, you might be strong enough to give me a good fight, but you would not be capable of defeating me. And in the event you found some other way of accomplishing your mission here, I could easily make you submit with my powers if I wished.) He stated the facts coolly.

Mewtwo gave that a few seconds to sink into her mind, then repeated himself, (So, as I said…you are of no threat to me.)

This most displeased Cassandra, the truth in his words. It shown on her face, but she kept her voice tightly controlled, without emotion, "So what will you do with me? Teleport me to the nearest police station?" Dare she even hope he'd be stupid enough to send her away, to give her a chance to rehash the situation and get what she needed?

He shook his head, (No. I still haven't found what I wish to know from you. And until then, I intend to keep you here-.)

"Like hell you will! I'm not going to be stuck in this hole-," She began to cry in outrage, interrupting him, and crossed her arms defiantly over her chest.

He snorted at her, cutting her off, (You will die in the attempt to escape. While the pokémon in the lower levels don't care for me in the least, they are quite fond of Psyche. And in threatening my life, you've threatened hers as well. They would have no qualms about tearing you apart and ending your existence. Even a person such as yourself could not defeat them all; at least not without lethal injuries,) He told, (And seeing as how you likely have to avoid being spotted, going to a hospital is not a choice you have, is it?)

She said nothing, but her scowl was enough of an answer to his words.

The bluntness of his tone gave off a sense of harsh honesty. He'd given this a fair amount of thought. And he was right, though it caused her much displeasure to admit that, even to herself. Not that she would ever agree with him aloud, but still…it was evident that the situation had taken a nosedive. Even in her vexation, her agent persona could see that.

She surfaced from her thoughts, glaring at him, "You plan to keep me captive then, until I tell you what you want to know? And then what? Will you kill me?" she inquired.

He paused, growling a bit under his breath, (I'm not a monster girl, despite what you may have been told. I won't lock you in some cold, dark room and refuse to give you food.)

Cassandra couldn't help but laugh, "Really? Well then what will I be kitty cat? Your quest?"

She threw out the term as an ill-humored joke.

Mewtwo however, was perfectly serious in his next words.

(…As a matter of fact, that is precisely what you'll be.) He declared boldly. Then, seeing her shocked look, and thinking on how a prisoner was usually treated, he went on, (Unless you would prefer the other option…it is your choice.)

…In her surprise, what he was saying took a bit to sink in…but when it did, the assassin simply stared at him for a couple long seconds.

Say what?

She couldn't help but blink, completely thrown, "…Come again?"

What's he playing at…?, she wondered, trying to analyze his expression.

He turned his face away from hers, (You heard me perfectly well. Mind you however, you will have to care for yourself. I am not about to treat you as royalty after you tried to end my life. Whether your…stay here, will be comfortable or not, is up to you.)

"Are you kidding me?" she wondered aloud, recoiling, unable to believe what she was hearing. What he was saying was…just not logical! Her mind had a difficult time accepting this turn of events.

Mewtwo gave her a severe look, (I do not joke, human.)

I can believe that….Still, her mind wasn't grasping the offer well. Was this a trick? If it were, she supposed she was going to fall headlong into the trap then. After all, passing by this…opportunity, would only be more unreasonable, greater in foolishness. Besides…though she could handle it, another interrogation did not appeal to her.

Those thoughts in mind, her previous inquiry floated to her lips; the response from him being far more important to her than this insane announcement. After a few moments more of staring, she asked it, "Fine…say I go along with this…'guest' idea. You still haven't answered my question. Will you kill me after this is over?"

He'd turned away from her after he'd seen her stand, but hesitated then, (…That has yet to be decided….)

She did not like the 'maybe' he implied there, though accepted it. Even a 'yes' would have been better however, because she could have prepared and braced herself. Not knowing even an ounce of what to expect annoyed her deeply. She'd been trained to deal with it, yes, but it left her on uneven, shifting ground. Plus, in the event that the answer was a 'yes', she refused to go down without a fight.

Seeing her delay to follow, he quietly said, (Stay there, if you will. However, there is a room prepared for you,) He told, not looking at her.

Cassandra's bewilderment only increased, but intrigued, she began to walk behind him. 'A room'? Just how long had she been unconscious? It was something she couldn't possibly begin to guess. And why would this clone give her even a scrap of hospitality, after she'd attempted to murder him? The torture had made far more sense!

Mewtwo led her shortly to the where she knew the empty bedroom to be. Entering it after him, and turning the light on, she saw the bed had been freshly made, much of the dust elsewhere having been swept away. And there, upon the mattress...!

(You may stay here-,) Mewtwo began just before she called out at what she saw, interrupting him.

"My suitcase! How did you…?" she trialed off, quickly going over to it.

(You might want to inform your contacts to think of better aliases for you. 'Selena Bracken' died fifteen years ago. Between hacking and the search programs, discovering where you were staying was simple enough. It did not take much effort to get your belongings from there. For a hotel with supposedly excellent security, it was ridiculously easy to break in,) the feline commented, watching for her reaction. He sensed a sharp irritation and…something else rise from her when he mentioned her cover name. But she shook it off quickly enough, proceeding to open the case.

Anger was the first and strongest of the emotions the crossed her face then, "You…you went through my things!" she cried out.

She looked about ready to slap him, (Yes… And it was quite a good thing I did, given everything I found inside, Cassandra.)

She froze as she heard her name, not even bothering to disguise her shocked reaction. As she straightened, she didn't notice the angry flash in the psychic's eyes as he reprimanded himself within his mind. The room suddenly seemed too small for the young woman, and though she fiercely battled with herself to regain control, she couldn't stop her voice from wavering slightly.

"How…?" she began quietly, not able to finish. Her name he shouldn't know. Out of her initial surprise though, fury flared. He had no right in know anything about her! Her anger made her question stronger, and she started again, "How do you know my name?" she almost yelled.

He answered her calmly, ignoring her tone, (Psyche's interrogation, though it wasn't as effective as I had hoped, did manage to glean a few facts from you. Your first name was one of them.)

Her stomach seemed to fill with ice, and she knew she paled. Like air in a suddenly released, untied balloon, her rage left her. She couldn't tell whether he was telling the truth or not, since he kept his aura, his spiritual signature, hidden from her. To conceal herself before she'd attacked she'd done the same. Cassandra couldn't even tell what he was feeling or thinking. Had she truly given something of herself away? She…couldn't recall much of when thosepokémonhad questioned her. Only scarce images, the pain of feeling the electric shocks running through her system. The Thunder Punches, an incredible achievement for such a young creature, had been the worst. The clone could be lying though, trying to trip her up. Mewtwo could simply be guessing.

But it was one heck of an accurate guess then.

He approached her, breaking her out of her thoughts, but before he could speak, she snarled at him, "Get out."

He regarded her for a moment, and then gave a curt nod, (As you wish….)

She followed him carefully, driving daggers in his back with her eyes. However, the clone didn't seem to feel her murderous gaze, but hesitated before exiting the door, (One more thing woman.) he began, turning his head to look at her, (If you dare do any harm my companion, or the kits she is going give birth to very soon, I will not hesitate to kill you. They are not a part of this, understood?)

"As long as she doesn't get in my way, you don't have to worry." She threw the words at him, saying them evenly, and meaning every word.

His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. The door clicked shut behind him as he left in silence.

Cassandra couldn't help but scowl after him, more displeased than ever. It only grew worse as she discovered the other weapons she'd hidden to be stolen from her as well. The clone was a thorough creature; that she couldn't deny. And it quite irritated her, in truth. Not because it made her job more difficult (though that frustrated her deeply in its own way), but because it meant that he wouldn't be easy to trip up. Giovanni had not said this job would be a simple one, but she was beginning to wonder if she was going to need aid. If she could do this, alone….

The woman scoffed at herself then. She may be in a bit of trouble, but she would be fine. There was no reason she couldn't complete this mission on her own. And save in the first years of her training, she had always been solitary, ever since…her childhood had abruptly ended. Closing her eyes, she pushed the thought away. Her mind obeyed, going onto an alternative subject….

Soon enough though, she found something that broke through her own musings, which Mewtwo had seemed to forget to take. Or rather, something he missed when searching her case. The bottle of pills was still there…. As the handful left inside rattled around, she looked at it almost bitterly, reminded of why she took them.

Cassandra placed the medication back under her clothes, lying down in the bed provided for her for a while. Closing her eyes, she listened to the wisps of sounded that leaked through the walls. The pokémon's padded footstep, almost silent, could be heard, wandering about the house. She would kill him, Mewtwo. Kill him, or die trying. That was inevitable. It would not be that difficult, when the time came. It would not hurt her to do it. They held no ties to one another after all. As long as it remained clear to her the basic facts, that he was her prey, her enemy, his death would not burden her any.

If she didn't know him, he was just another face.

"Espeon?" Psyche said bluntly to him, from where she sat on the kitchen floor, watching him carefully, "You healed herandare letting her stay?"

The clone did not look at her, (Yes.)

"Es?"

He answered her in monotone, (You forget, my friend, that I do not need to explain my actions to you. Make of it what you wish, but I hold no remorse.)

"Espeon?" her eyes narrowed slightly, "Taking a liking to her, have you?"

This time he did look at her, (She is human,) He said solemnly, as though this were answer enough. The knife near him sliced on its own upon the sanitized cutting board. He turned his amethyst eyes towards the cupboard, bringing out a small bowl from its depths, (…Leave it be Psyche. My reasons are strictly my own,) He stated.

"Espe. Espeon," She lifted up her nose at him, "Fine. You can be a secretive jerk, but that won't give you any points with the kits, I'll have you know."

The change of subject, and what it was about, made Mewtwo look at her with softer eyes, (Perhaps not. But we will shall before long, shan't we?)

Psyche quirked a smile at this, gladdened by his attitude. After he'd found out she was pregnant, he'd been most miffed. Uncertain of what he should do. While he had handled clone Nidoqueen's term with fair ease, having no issues with her mate's and her decision, they had been under his protection. His duty to them, and their children, was obvious. Psyche's little surprise though had caught him off guard, a rare thing indeed. He still didn't know how well it would work out, to have a handful of little felines scurrying about the place.

No matter however. They had discussed it for hours after she'd told him, and their decisions had already been made about what to do. Mewtwo had to contemplate now though, how indeed things would turn out with the assassin here. Would she kill him, leaving Psyche alone? Or would the woman get tired of Psyche's protective, bothersome presence, and kill her, along with the kits, as she'd so slyly threatened? It was a thought that made him growl, his paws clench. If she were to murder him, so be it. But the others were innocent…and they deserved the chance to live.

He set a bowl of diced grapes and strawberries in front of his friend, seeing her eager expression. Her cravings were of mostly sweets, and usually she'd prepare her own meals. This however, was his way for making up on the occurrences last night. Her lack of sleep, her struggles as she'd tried to give him at least some protection. And yet, against a dark angel, how could she? Such a small creature, versus such a dangerous person. Still, the gesture was there. As she gobbled down the sugary berries, he sat next to her, stroking her down her spine. Psyche's ears flickered at that, accepting his actions.

They stood a bit later, Mewtwo removing the bandage upon his shoulder. The cut had disappeared, leaving only a smudge of crimson as a trace. His body's regenerative capabilities had always been remarkable. That, added to knowing Recover, helped greatly. Still, he was not an immortal. There were chances of infection or worse.

Throwing away the white cloth, he washed the blood away in the tap, letting his fur dry on its own. As the Espeon curled up on the couch, falling into another one of her frequent naps, he sighed, covering her form with a light blanket. He pondered whether it safe to leave her there, considering their "visitor". But then he shook his head minutely. Cassandra had given him her word, or as close as she could. He would have to trust that the human wouldn't be stupid enough to go against his will and hurt the little feline.

Weariness began to settle in soon after. His insomnia, for once, seemed to be failing. The clone had no desire to fight sleep, knowing it to be a rare gift. Especially when nightmares did not threaten him. Even though he couldn't say whether such dreams would come this time, given the circumstances, he went back into his room, settling down in his hammock. A few white and brown few feathers flew from the hole in his one destroyed pillows, but he only watched them float down to the stone floor. As a few caught each other in the air, curling and spinning about one another in a gentle, slow manner, almost intimately, his eyes began to close, a saddened emotion beginning to fill him. He pushed it away though, denying himself to feel such sorrow….

It would serve no purpose…he knew that well.

As he shut his eyes, the feathers settled together on the floor, like snow so peacefully falling.

Author's Note: Be kind andreview! This was shorter than my last couple of chapters. You'll be happy to know that I have a chunk of Chapter 3 already done. It was originally going to be incorporated into this, but I decided against it for a number of reasons.

Well, see ya'! And be kind and review!