Disclaimer: I do not own pokémon.

Author's Note:For those of you who read A/N's, I'd like to tell you how this story came into being. The way I formulate fics is simple…I take a thread of thought, and ideal, that inspires me…and as time goes on, it branches out, fills out, and twines together, creating a tale in my mind. This one began to grow from the intro music and images from the anime series "Ghost in a Shell: Stand Alone Complex". The first night I discovered it, I was fascinated by the image of a woman like the Major, haunty and sleek, but so very cool to aspects of her own world. Another image swiftly joined that one: of a demon and angel together…a forbidden romance gambit. It was something I had never done before and wished to try…so I began to write it down.

Originally, "Angelic Shadows" was a religious work. Cassandra, after a few fumbling attempts, was raised to be something of a weapon of a cult, sent to murder the demon that had wandered into the region: Mewtwo, of course. But that idea shriveled up. I realized that no one was going to be interested in it…that I was, in fact, bound to be flamed.

So I searched around, looking for some popular ideas. I came up with two things that Mewtwo fans enjoy thoroughly enough to forgive a love story: Team Rocket, and Ai. Suffice to say that those subjects led to some very interesting places, and set up the foundation of this fic. In the second brainstorming attempt, there was time travel, and apocalyptic events concerning a certain character that still comes up later. It was more a defying destiny piece than anything else.

In fact, with that concept in mind, I began to post this story. But then another, far more intriguing and troublesome realization came to me. With its implications in mind, I revised the prologue, and then continued…and, quite recently, the final plot element stepped in. Something that would make the fic part from a drama piece to an actual STORY.

And that's where I stop for now. I'll continue this in the next chapter…otherwise I'll spoil you.

Previously:Cassandra fell into drug withdrawal…which led to flashbacks that all too well revealed some of the worst parts of the assassin's life. As Mewtwo tries to handle her condition, Psyche begins to suspect something is very amiss from how he's acting…he's not himself, and it troubles her. Later, after the worst is over, Mewtwo reveals that Cassandra is very much like the girl he once knew and perhaps even cared for…and Cassandra, somewhat changed, asks for him to end her life. However, Mewtwo cannot grant this wish…and so they fall back into their usual bickering. But Cassandra's certainty in being able to kill Mewtwo has shifted…and towards the end of the withdrawal, her dreams reveal something even more shocking: as a child, Cassandra knew Amber, the very same girl who Mewtwo shared his first few months of life with.

CHAPTER 10: VERITY

"Have youANYtaste in good tea? This stuff is what you'd buy at a supermarket…," Cassandra muttered, half-engulfed in the cabinet she was rummaging through. The thin packets were from corporate companies, which valued the quantity of their product, not its quality. It made her wish to growl and spit expletives…come on, there had to be something better than-!

(Those were left behind by the previous tenants. The quality tea leaves are on the top shelf,) Mewtwo said, reading a thin novel about matters concerning gestation and childbirth.

Psyche was currently a day overdue in her pregnancy, so she could start having contractions at any time now…she was already showing the signs of discomfort that preluded the event. He was in the process of preparation…he had been witness to a birth before, to the arrival of the young ones clones Rhyhorn and Nidoqueen had created. But there was a vast difference here. They had barely needed assistance, and had asked that Mewtwo leave after a time. The act was supposed to be a private thing…and he had obeyed their wishes gladly, thankful that he had no obligation to watch the process. He would protect the offspring, yes, but all the same…it had not felt comfortable, to be near so intimate a thing.

Psyche, however, wanted him to be there in case something went wrong…and he would not deny her his help. The fact was that despite the amount of instinct that would run her, this was Psyche's first time going through childbirth. It was far more likely something would go amiss this time than in any other that might follow if she once again found her mate. So, understanding that, the clone was brushing up on the process she would go through, noting the important bits…his ears focusing on the yet somewhat weak woman who was searching through his supplies.

Cassandra was still weary from her withdrawal, drained in both body and soul…but at the same time, she was too stubborn to let others care for her longer than necessary, flatly refusing their aid. As a result, she'd adamantly dragged herself out of bed, showered, gotten dressed, and tried to eat something: a nectarine. She'd almost gagged it back up, but managed to control her stomach…and now she was looking for something to sooth her senses. To warm her fingers and blood.

She found what she was looking for, "Ah…you have the expensive stuff. Roselia's Green Tea…that works for me. Got the same stuff at home…where's the mint…?"

He glanced at her…she was fingering through the box, through the peach and berry flavors, trying to find the peppermint. She grinned as she found one packet, plucking it out, putting some water on to boil. Her long ebony hair was slick, clinging to her skin with wetness and brushed back over her ears, lying cool against her neck. Her sweater and jeans similarly hugged her, trying to defend her against the chill of the room, even though the kitchen was warming with the heating stove. Her feet were bare…she was obviously unconcerned with spilling scalding water onto her small toes. She held her hands over the kettle, trying to absorb its heat…her eyes were not cold, and her lips were tucked up to one side with a hint of a smile.

She was coping well with her cravings for her medication…if anything, instead of being irritable, she was being positively…lovely. A strange description certainly, however…much of her ire seemed to have melted away unless she was provoked by something. And much of the time, Mewtwo made a point not to talk to her and risk her scathing tongue. A part of him was still wondering about the peck to the face she'd dealt him…. He knew she had done it to express that she was grateful to him, but still, it aroused his confusion.

But regardless of that curiosity, he had discerned one thing: it seemed that like him, she wasn't eager to say words of thanks. And he knew well enough that words in themselves were swift to be misinterpreted, or fade into meaninglessness through repetition. Wonderful examples of this shame were phrases such as "I'm sorry" or "I love you"...words that were supposed to mean so much were rendered impotent by being uttered so often and without meaning.

He suspected that she too, was unwilling to speak those words. Only if she meant them, deeply and unfailingly, would she dare. And here, there was no need for her to say such things. Not to him…or him to her. For simply put, neither of them was in a situation that possessed the need to murmur those words.

…Not now, at any rate.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched as she dipped the teabag into the steaming water, the essence of mint diffusing throughout the hot liquid. She stirred the mix occasionally, long minutes passing…then, the beverage was deemed ready. She flicked off the stovetop, picking up the kettle by its black, plastic handle. To his surprise, she placed two mugs on the table, pouring them both a cupful of the newly made tea. She warmed her slender hands on the pale ceramic cup, blowing a cooling breath on the hot surface of the green liquid, sipping her drink…her eyes gazed to no specific point in the room, and certainly not at him. After a time, he too drank…there had been no residue in the bottom of his mug before she had filled it, and she was drinking of the same source. So unless she had immunity to a drug she might have slipped into the tea, which he doubted she would risk exploiting due to her frailer condition, the tea was safe. Indeed, there were no adverse effects to him as the minutes passed…she had meant no harm by the gesture.

After a time, she spoke, "…You have good taste."

…In what? He glanced at her, (What do you mean?)

Cassandra took another sip of the revitalizing drink, "It's a small chain of stores that grow the type of tea leaf for this brew. As a result, it doesn't come cheap, though it's well worth its price. I…can't stand many types outside this brand. Mind you, I haven't been drinking tea for a very long time, but this still remains my favorite."

He contemplated that declaration, (…So because I agree with you on this point, you deem that I have good taste? That infers that you, even in your inexperience, have a skill at telling what is quality tea and what is not. A bit arrogant of you, Cassandra.)

She shrugged, "Whatever…it's just a pleasant coincidence, that's all. Seems one good thing came out of taking this mission: I'll be able to steal your tea after you're dead!"

He nearly snorted, (How charming…but I would think with your occupation you are well paid. At least enough to purchase expensive tea.)

Her mood mellowed as she answered, "That's true…I could have anything I want. My funds are virtually unlimited…but frankly, I prefer not to use them."

Mewtwo raised an eyebrow, (Is that so? And why is that?) He asked.

…Because it wasblood money, earned by the lost lives of others. A soul, apparently, was not priceless, but had a number, a dollar worth. That was why she wouldn't use those funds so lightly…but she did not say that. Instead, she waved the question away, "That should be obvious for someone at intelligent as you're supposed to be. Besides, can't you read my mind?"

(I prefer to avoid such invasions. You never know what is in someone else's mind…it can scar you quite easily if you pry into deep thoughts that are not your own. Besides…you have potent mental barriers, woman. Tearing them down would serve of little purpose to me…and it would likely render you insane from the forced entry,) he explained, sipping his tea and meeting her eyes, (…And if your thoughts are only a confusing mesh of fantasy and reality, I would be able to pry very little coherent thought from you. It isby fareasier to maneuver you into letting bits of information slip…you do not even notice that.)

She peered at him, her mouth curling into a displeased sneer, a snarl beginning to hiss out of her mouth, "I havenevertold you anything I didn't wish to."

(Of course not. But you have let personal facts slip. That you are partial to mint tea is one of them,) Mewtwo stated, watching with some hidden amusement as her eyes narrowed.

Cassandra leaned back into her chair, pressing her fingers to her eyes for a moment, "…By god, this is so screwed up! The situation is completely unconventional…it's an assassin's worst nightmare when their target defies logic; when their behavior is off to an extent that makes a lunatic seem sane. I'm supposed to be a profiler, butyou'rethe one doing the profiling. Well, damn you, Mewtwo…."

The corner of his mouth twitched, (…I am long since damned, for more reasons than you could know. Now tell me, what more might you take from me when you leave?)

'When'…? Over her mug, she gazed at him…her eyes reflected in the surface of the tea, their color of grayish-green, like a dying stem of a night-blooming flower, "Mewtwo, understand…I was joking about stealing from this lair of yours. I am not someone who takes trophies. They can lead back to me, and I find that as undesirable as my superiors do. But you seem to comprehend that I can't go back empty-handed…."

She looked him over, slowly, her eyes sweeping his form, "My boss wants confirmation of your death by my bringing back something of your body. It's a gory detail I take no pleasure in…but photographs can be faked, as can fatal wounds. It will probably have to be some sort of vital organ. Your heart perhaps, or maybe your lungs…I don't know. But your body won't be left whole…and the rest of you will doubtlessly have to be disposed of."

"If I don't do this, I can't go back…and I have a deadline to keep before reinforcements come."

…It was her way of telling him there would be no escape unless he made one…by destroying her, and fleeing. But even then, he might just be tracked down again. More people and pokémon would come after him. And despite his powers, he could not hide away and fight forever…eventually, some sort of end would have to be made. It was him…or it was the one who headed the people coming after him. Team Rocket's Giovanni…the head of the snake. Kill him…cut him out of the equation…and Mewtwo would befree.

But Cassandra could tell Mewtwo none of this straight out…she could only let him infer the situation. Yet no matter how he looked at it, things were bad for him….

And though Mewtwo would not allow her to know it, he knew what was facing him very well.

Perhaps even better than she did….

(I doubt I will care what happens to my body once I am dead…the idea that it will torn open and picked through does not appeal to me, but if I am a corpse, then there would be nothing I could do about it. However…I do have one request.)

"And what is that?"

He stared right at her, his eyes hard as he told her his final desire, (In the event that this happens, that you take my life and steal some integral piece of my insides…burnthe rest. The idea of bring buried and having insects and scavengers feast on my remains disgusts me. If I must nourish the Earth that I was brought into without the consent of nature, let it be in different manner than that…allow my ashes to stir in the wind, still unbridled and unable to be repossessed.)

(…Do you understand what I am saying, Cassandra?)

From her stare, her eyes fell at all she saw in him then. At the fierce need he possessed to remain as he was now, free in a way she could not bear to face. For Cassandra knew she could never follow on a similar path to his. Unlike Mewtwo, she would remain what she had been for so long now…loyal and in servitude to Giovanni, as a weapon and nothing more. To rebel was not worth it in her case. After all, what was waiting for her there outside of the organization? The answer was simple…there was nothing andno one…and to top that off, there would be the persecution from both sides of the world, of the dark and light.

So her answer to him then was quiet, almost withdrawn as she wondered on what it might be like, to hold that defiant resolve as he did, despite its heavy price, "Yes…I do."

More than he could ever know….

And in that moment, the woman thought that if she could, she would try to grant his wish…to set him aflame, and allow him to continue to defy enslavement even in death.

Without another word, they drank the rest of the tea, savoring the mild, bitter flavor, the gentle brush of aroma and taste, drinking down a heat that could not touch their cold insides, which had known true warmth in times nearly forgotten and certainly unknown to the world….

Eventually, and without a great deal of warning, the quiet state of tranquility was broken as a sharp cry rose from the living room…the waves of pain emitting from Psyche's aura washing over the two empathic beings. Of one mind, giving their actions no thought, the two darted from their seats to go to the smaller feline's side. They found her sprawled out on her side in her makeshift nest, her lavender body shuddering with contractions. She hissed at them for a moment, peering at them with narrowed eyes, before seeming to recognize them, not clawing at them as they reached out to her to try to sooth her, to make certain nothing was amiss.

"Es…espe," she muttered, "You both had better call a truce…if you fight while I'm like this, I swear, I'll scratch both of your eyes out."

Mewtwo set a soothing paw on her side, (You need not worry…nothing of the sort will happen, will it, woman?)

Barely hearing him, Cassandra nodded, and then rose, saying she was going to get hot water and some clean towels. When she came back, she checked the Espeon over, feeling for each kit, parting the creature's legs to spy the tiny "bubble" that represented the first child in its amnion being born. Mewtwo knew that his companion's steady breathing and lack of panic was promising. Things were going fine so far. He could sense no distress from his friend, simply a bit of nervousness beneath the layers of instinct that guided her body as she brought her children into the world.

After a few pushes, the first slimy bundle slid from its mother…a Skitty, tiny and frail, stirred inside the watery sac it was held within. With her far more delicate fingers, Cassandra cut the amnion bag open, clearing out the kits mouth and patting its tiny body to make sure it began to breathe and move about. It chirped noisily, which was a rather encouraging sign of health. Mewtwo swiftly took the little being, setting it next to Psyche's belly. Its eyes weren't open, but it cuddled up to her soft warmth swiftly…and so the process began all over again.

The three worked in silence, save for a few sniping comments the enemies gave each other…mostly about Cassandra's intimate checking over the psychic mother, which she thought was more appropriate due to her own gender in spite of Mewtwo's close relationship with the being. But the arguments were barely even half-hearted…the two midwifes were too occupied in helping Psyche, who in honesty was by far less anxious then they were, even though they kept their emotions hidden.

The truth of the matter was merely that despite her efforts, Cassandra felt something alike to sympathy for the pregnant feline. She did not know why, yet still, she was willing enough to help. After all, if she was to kill the clone, the least she could do was see that his friend was well and with her kits. She did not need more innocent blood on her hands, despite the threats she had made against the female pokémon. And as for Mewtwo…well, he had long since associated Psyche as something of a replacement for his two closest fellow clones, Meowthtwo and Pikatwo. Like her, they had once debated with him, and in had been his seconds-in-command despite their later rebellious attitudes. They had set themselves apart in numerous ways…their independent natures being just a small part of that.

And Psyche's willingness to stay beside him, despite his oddness, had made her endearing to him in a platonic sense. Her attitude at times had been comforting…for one, he had not been completely alone, and even when annoying, she had been…appealing (though he would hardly admit it to her).

There were…other reasons. But he couldn't loose himself in his thoughts right now, could he?

In the end, there were four kits. Three of these were Skitty, the baby form of their father, a Delcatty. For two of them, their heads, backs, and sides were vivid pink in color, their faces, small bellies, and tiny feet creamy tan. All of their ears had tuffs of fur at their points, and their tails were heavy and of a round oval shape, the tiny gold spherical extensions soft to the touch. They were also all female, though one was of the shiny form of the breed, her fur a darker red. The last infant was a small, male Eevee…and luckily for him, he would not have to fight his siblings for a teat, their number the same as the number of glands available to them. No one would be left out on the nutritious milk their mother would provide for them…so after Psyche had licked them clean of amniotic fluid, they cuddled up to her, latching on, suckling their first meal…she proceeded to eat their amnions, the empty sacs rich with nutrients that would help restore her strength.

Both Mewtwo and Cassandra helped to check each of the kits and their mother over…all seemed healthy, if exhausted. The placentas had come out whole and intact, so the risk of poisoning and infection for the mother was not an issue. The umbilical cords had, fortunately, not coiled around anyone on their way out, instead being chewed off by Psyche. In all, the birth had gone very well. The three counted their blessings…finding a full four nuzzling up to their single parent.

The clone and his enemy sat back then, watching and listening as the kits cooed and finished nursing. Nothing was said…yet it was a strangely warm moment, watching the tiny family curled up in their nest of towels and blankets in front of the couch the adults leaned against. A couple hours had passed since the process had begun…and another few would pass before either Mewtwo or Cassandra would rise.

Both would probably say they were simply staying to make sure everything was truly well; that the critters would remain content and comfortable, and no hidden negative conditions would arrive given time. But this would be a lie…because in a world so full of darkness and death for the two of them, new life was astounding and something that aroused wonder…something to look on almost wistfully, with the knowledge that they would never know what it felt like to raise offspring, to have the experience of parenthood. Admittedly, neither downright longed for it…it was one of those matters they shoved from their minds, not allowing themselves to think about. Or if they did, they acknowledged that such a thing was not for them. There was far too much against both of them to allow such a thing…it would be unfair to the children, and hence, undesirable to them.

For them, there could be no new life, for so many reasons….

And so they looked on, almost yearning, yet forcefully keeping themselves detached. They were outcasts, after all. To be lonely was inevitable and likely just. For they could not fit within the populace…and they would doubtlessly sully anyone they dared to touch. It was a horrible truth, a crime of existence itself…yet it could not be altered. It merely was.

However…there are always loopholes to fate, if one knew where to look, and dared to step out and walk upon such a path….

But it would take some time before either was ready to take that chance, and accept the consequences of their choice….

For now, they merely watched as the fluff-balls began to jerk about, testing their limbs with what little strength they had. Blindly, the Eevee fell out of the nest, tumbling to where Cassandra sat. Now contrary to common belief, touching a baby animal, whether wild or tame, will not make their parents abandon it. They might fuss somewhat, but they will still accept it readily enough. So Cassandra took the kit in her hands, a hand beneath its fluffy tail and about its belly. It squeaked at her, a small pitiful cry of confusion…and Cassandra gave the little one something rare and indescribably beautiful:

A true, genuinely happy smile.

She chuckled a little as she gazed at him, "You remind me of my own Shadow before he evolved…he was a bit on the small side too."

With those words, the furry brown and white newborn began to squirm and whine. "Oh, now don't fuss. I'll put you back near your mother, okay?" And with that declaration, she placed the little male back in the nest.

The smile faded, and yet there was a warmth which remained in her eyes that was striking and undeniable…and seeing it, Mewtwo gazed after her as she retired to her room. His face was blank, yet all the same…something leaked through the mask. A vague emotion that softened his eyes just so, unable to be easily paired with a name. It hinted at something deeper, something Psyche had suspected for awhile was there, though what it was escaped her. For weeks since the assassin's arrival, she had debated with herself its identity and its affects on him. Did he feel Hunger now? Fondness? Longing, perhaps? Whatever it was, the human was too tired to notice it, desiring only for a nap in that moment.

But Psyche, always wary and watchful, saw all.

Her kits swiftly falling into sleep and cuddling up into the fur of her now flat belly, her eyes narrowed, "…Espeon," she murmured, "…I've had enough of this. Spill it, Mewtwo."

He turned his eyes to her, ('Spill' what?)

She rose, nuzzling her kits into sleep and into the warm of the fabric that surrounded them, "Espeon, espe." She said, hopping out weakly towards him, "Something is wrong with you. You've been acting strangely ever since that woman arrived, and I want to know why that is."

He stood abruptly, not looking at her, (…I am afraid you're mistaking my discomfort for having a human here who desires to kill me for something else.)

Psyche did not have to use her abilities to sense his evasion…and frankly, weary and still aching from the hell her body had only too recently gone through, it pissed her off. What was hisdeal? Why couldn't he just spit out a goddamn explanation? "Espeon! Espe-." She shook her head with an angry snarl, "Don't give me that psychological CRAP, Mewtwo! I know you're lying-."

The clone was caught between irritability and the desire to scoff at her and laugh. He chose irritability. (Do not be delusional. You are not powerful enough to probe my mind to tell such a thing clearly-.)

"Es. Espeon, espe!" She growled, "No. But there ahundredlittle things you've done that validates my thoughts!"

He didn't respond…he wouldnotrise to her bait as she desired. Seeing this, she pressed on, "Espe,es,es…," Her forked tail lashed, "This human isdifferentfrom the others to you, somehow…."

Thatgot his attention, though he refused to give her the benefit of seeing it. Yet he peered at her out of the corner of his eyes, as though daring her to go on….

She did.

"Espeon, espeon. Espe,espeones…." She ranted, pouring out the incongruities to his behavior that had arisen since the woman had come. "You refuse to hurt or kill her, despite the threat she poses to you. So far, you haven't made any attempt to interrogate her to find out who sent her and why. You are willing totouchher and chase after her in completely baffling ways! You ask for her help, you heal her, you talk to her about matters that aren't any of her concern. Youbickerin an almost playful manner, and let her do as she pleases. And most striking of all, youcomforther…youholdher, feeling fear when she's distressed. You, the great and mighty Mewtwo, afraid for a member of the race he supposedly hates!"

She laughed at this last, letting her opinion on this matter show through. Mewtwo stared, not able to say anything in his own defense…though his rage shown clearly at her accusations.

But Psyche wasn't finished yet, "Espe…esespeon! Espeon es," she hissed, her eyes glinting, "And if that all weren't enough…if that could all be considered some sort of act…there's the way you looked at her just now. As though you were hurting with some sort ofyearningI can't decipher. It's not even the first time I've seen you gaze at her like that! Yet all the same, these things tell me that she's not as despicable to you as you want everyone else to believe."

"Es…esespe, espeon," She chuckled wryly then, "No…if anything, she seemsdesirableto you, though for the life of me I can't understand why. I can't see you falling for anyone or craving her, least of all your enemy. So I'mobviouslymissing something here."

Mewtwo could stay silent no longer, (…It…is NOT your concern!)

"Espe, espe," She snorted, "I knew you'd say that. I guess I'll just have to bring it up to her then, since it concerns her well-being-."

(NO.)

With that one ferocious word, his tail lashed out, striking her firmly in the side. The blow was not hard enough to hurt terribly, but hard enough to knock the wind out of her. When she stopped tumbling, she found that they had both been transported to the roof. Mewtwo's eyes shown with fury and malice as he seethed onwards, his voice low, cold, and firm, (You will suggestnothingto her! You will leave her be and cease this questioning of my motives! That woman is already suspicious of my actions as it is…and you cannotpossiblycomprehend the consequences of your actions if you dare provoke the situation.)

With those declarations, his roaring quieted…and he cursed her, (Damn youPsyche, leave it be…!)

Yet that was something Psyche couldn't do…because his rage made it clear that not only was he was truly hiding something, but that she was obviously getting far too close to whatever it was for his comfort. "Espeon," she spoke in almost a plea, "Mewtwo…please, just tell me. I'm your friend…and I can tell that whatever it is, it's hurting you. You're trying far too hard to deny it…and I'm fairly certain I'm not the only one who sees it."

…She cared for him so much. He had taken care of her, given her a home…and somehow, in someway, she wanted to repay that. If it meant tearing a thorn from his paw, as the saying went, she would do so.

He did not respond…and so she tried again. "Es…espe," she murmured, "Please…confide in me, just thisonce."

Mewtwo stared off into space…shivering, but not from the cool night breeze, which smelled of the sea, salty and murky, its depths unknown and holding a darkness that many could not hope to pierce. Those deep waters were similar to him in that way…full of shadows and secrets, of things no creatures of the daylight could hope to fully understand of feel sympathy for. After several more moments, he sighed wearily, and bowed his head, putting a paw to his brow, (…You…will not stop asking me, will you?)

"Es. Espe es," she said, without a smirk, perfectly serious…joking now would not help matters, "No, I won't. If it's in front of her next time, I don't care."

His entire body stiffened…he was obviously trapped now, and he couldn't get out of the snare unless he wished to maim her mind...and he could do no such thing to one of the few beings on this planet he could consider a friend.

"Es…esespe?" Psyche murmured at his reaction, something she's only previously suspected dawning on her, "You…knowher, don't you?"

He had definitely teleported them out there for a reason…it was obvious he didn't want the woman to accidentally overhear. Confirming this fact, the clone looked away purposefully, his paws clenched, (Do not be absurd.)

His voice didn't mean it though…he seemed frailer somehow, weary and defeated. His companion's eyes softened, "Es…espe?" she said, "God…you reallydo, don't you?"

The answer came with reluctance, as though it were a shard of shrapnel torn from bone, (…Of course I do…and I know her quite intimately at that.)

What…? Was that why he hadn't bothered to question the woman…? Psyche did not understand fully the implications of what he had said…but she did not need to interrogate him anymore. His willpower had snapped with that one confession, and like a leak in the hull of a vessel, the structure of defense would continue to weaken until it collapsed in on itself. Though he knew he would later regret it, the truth was certain to follow on the heels of this breach in secrecy…so he threw up one last line of protection, a frail thing in the hope she would abandon her quest to pry out his shame from him. Quietly, he inquired, (Do you truly wish to know, Psyche? Truly…?)

"Es," She nodded, thankful that he was at last going to tell her what was haunting him. "Of course."

His tail swept threw the air…he gazed up at the sliver of the moon, the light seeming to catch all of the lines in his face. He seemed terribly old in that moment, ancient in years he had not let lived. For a second, before his silence broke completely, he allowed himself to remember why….

The violin music died…the sixteen-year-old opened her beautiful eyes, pulling the ivory bow from the strings, "…Did you like it?"

He rose, stepping to her…curling his arms about the young woman, savoring her warmth in a way no one else could ever know. (It was a beautiful piece…what inspired it, dove?) The young clone asked as she set the instrument aside.

His beloved just smiled and turned around, curling her arms about his neck…something soft wrapping around them both, stroking at his back. Mewtwo caught his own scent in her dark hair, on her skin, a pleasant thrill going through his stomach at the discovery, at the proof of their closeness.

"…You," she murmured her answer against his mouth….

And he felt something that he knew, even then, that neither of them deserved….

Happiness….

(Once, Psyche…I had a mate.)

"Espeon, es…?" She blinked, not quite comprehending his meaning…it was a shocking declaration, yes, one that would normally short-circuit her brain, but…, "What exactly are you trying to say? What's that have to do with Cassan…?"

And that's when she saw it…her eyes widened, and she took a step back from him….

No…dear Legendaries, he can't mean…!

And Mewtwo's mouth just quirked a small, bitter grin, (You understand now, don't you Psyche? But I will say it aloud to confirm your thoughts.)

(Once, I had a mate,) Mewtwo told, staring up at the cold, pale moon, who knew his every sin and remained unforgiving of what he'd done, (…And her name was, and remains, Cassandra.)

(The very same woman who is sleeping inside…and the very same human who Giovanni sent here to end my life.)

Author's Note:(Cue dramatic music.) Da, Da, DUN! Wait…what? Didanyoneout there see it coming? Or did I pull it off without anyone guessing beforehand? Funny part is, I told you all in the prologue that this happened, but no one caught it, ;). Now before I forget, for those who would be so kind,please review. If you won't, well, thanks for reading this far. The chapters, after all, are quite lengthy.

At any rate, for those of you who were speculating about Mewtwo's secret, who I rather teased in my own way…I apologize. It's the first time I've had anyone trying to put together a puzzle in my story, and inevitably, I found myself trying to help and smirking all the while. I hope I wasn't obnoxious about it…I don't mean to be!

As for the next chapter, it'll be the explanation…it'll probably belong, but I can't wait to write it all down!

At any rate, you all may have noticed this, but I've been seemingly constantly altering the summary for this story…and even tiny things in the previous chapters have been subject to tweaking. Why do I do this? Well, correcting spelling/grammar mistakes for one…I seem to have had this thing for commas…which bugs me now, reading back, because it makes things stagger. For another, I'm trying to see how I might draw more readers and coughreviewerscough. Mostly, I'm improving what I can, but essentially, I'm not changinganything. As for the shift in the genre…well, this story is still angst and dark…but there is more science fiction in it than not.

Well…see ya'll later. And again, REVIEW!

Please don't make me make up a cute, irresistible rhyme…lol.

- WiseAbsol