Angelic Shadows: Incomplete 2000s Edition

by WiseAbsol

With his memory of Mewtwo restored, Giovanni sends one of his Elite to kill him. While Agent Cassandra has no reservations about accepting the mission, there is much she hasn't been told about her target. This is an earlier version of the story, before it underwent revision in 2010. As such, it is incomplete, but it may be of interest to readers who want to compare the versions.

15. By the Firelight

Disclaimer: I do not own pokémon or the quote from the television seriesBONES.

Author's Note: Originally, this was supposed to be a rather short chapter, but it somehow bloomed into a seventeen-page entry that refused most of my attempts to prune it. Honestly, this chapter has the longest lead-up to two people having sex after deciding to…and on that note, yes, this entry contains what about ninety-five percent of you have been waiting for: Mewtwo and Cassandra resolving the sexual tension between them and expressing their affections and…I can't go on without flushing. Suffice to say this is your holiday treat from me, everyone! So yes, here is the warning for those who have problems reading such material:this chapter contains lemony content, or physical descriptions of sexual activities between a human and pokémon – don't read if you aren't comfortable with it. Personally, I adore this love scene, but I have a taste for them that others might not share.

Anyhow, besides that, I must address something that recently came to my attention. To those who talk to me over MSN, avert your eyes, least you will groan in exasperation. Alright, apparently the plot of this story has been deemed "an extended, laughable Cliché Storm that would make even non-tropersgroan" that is only salvageable because of the writing style and the characters. While this comment was actually more positive than not, considering it was made under a recommendation, I have to admit that I would have preferred if this could have been written to me personally rather than posted on a random website. Trust me, if this had been stated early on, I would have tried my best to avoid treading on more common ground. However, as it is, I am glad it's the plot this individual decided to pick at rather than other flaws I know this story possesses. If I could change these undermining weaknesses without destroying this fanfiction, I would. Sadly, I cannot do so, and even if I tried, the plot would not change greatly. Furthermore, I amtrying to be original, but…well, it's the romance genre. It's already been beaten to death and tried in every way you can imagine. Rather, if you are going to compare this story to others, compare it not to stories in general – you will inevitably find dozens of clichés in any work that way – but to stories in a category. In this case, it would be Mewtwo romance, and I assure you…this one is NOTHING like the others filling this site.

Anyhow, I am done ranting. Sorry that this had to happen in a cabin, but, well…it turned out that way (sweat-drops). Anyhow, I hope you all enjoy it - Merry Christmas everyone!

Previously: Mewtwo, at Psyche's urging, decided to forgo his and Cassandra's decision to stay out of each other's lives and traveled to Viridian City after her. Meanwhile, Cassandra triumphed over her drug addiction, and then began to work through her phobia of sex after beating her new spouse back when he tried to forcefully consummate their union. By this point, Mewtwo arrived to see the end of the struggle, and then offers to keep a promise he made to Cassandra when they were young: of taking her away from Team Rocket. Then, after being captured and an intense battle in the Viridian City Gym, Giovanni forces his goddaughter to choose between the organization and the clone. She chooses Mewtwo, who teleports them to safety before Team Rocket can lethally wound them. Afterwards, Giovanni orders his agents to hunt down and murder the pair. His plans to create weapons of war continue regardless of his ward's desertion.

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CHAPTER 15: BY THE FIRELIGHT

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"Here we are. All of us, basically alone, separate creatures just circling each other, all searching for that slightest hint of a real connection. Some look in the wrong places, some, they just give up hope because in their mind they're thinking, 'Oh, there's nobody out there for me.' But all of us, we keep trying over and over again. Why? Because every once in a while, every once in a while two people meet and there's that spark. And yes Bones, he's handsome and she's beautiful and maybe that's all they see at first, but making love? Making love, that's when two people become one."

"It is scientifically impossible for two objects to occupy the same space."

"Yeah, but what's important is we try…and when we do it right, we get close."

"To what? Breaking the laws of physics?"

"Yeah, Bones: a miracle. Those people, role playing and their fetishes and their little sex games, it's crappy sex. You know, at least compared to the real thing."

–Conversation between Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan.

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Forming the northern boundary of the Kanto region, rocky crags thrust up from the wild forests and hailed welcome to the frigid, blinding blizzards of winter. Even in the middle of November, the ice and snow had settled in thick, pale dunes across the mountains, and any who dared stray too far from the outskirts of the cities risked falling into a lethal sleep from exposure. As of such, few of man or monster's ilk found the concept of penetrating the frozen depths of the Mt. Moon Range alluring: no seasonal sport was worth courting death in the heights. No smooth slopes provided safe stretches for sledding or skiing, and hunting game proved nearly impossible, as many species migrated south or had begun hibernating well before this bitter month. Perhaps in the lush green of summer the peaks would prove agreeable, for they were rife with cascading waterfalls and scenic hiking trails…but such an Eden was buried now under a white, unforgiving desert. Only the most confident - or foolish - of creatures walked within the frozen terrain currently, for the deadly nights now lingered, the sun having ceased to crest over the peaks in weeks past.

However, to those fleeing danger, the difficult terrain offered a promise other than doom: sanctuary. Surely here amongst the crags was a place to hide, to heal, and perhaps escape the ones who surely pursued them…?

Such was one such being's hope as he appeared among the blackish skies, whose clouds warred again each other. Shrieking winds laden with scathing snow buffeted him and the one he held, for a moment stunning him in the shock of their force. He was blinded abruptly, for no moon or stars were detectable, and after the merciless force of the elements fully registered in his mind, he swiftly erected a psychic shield around them. Beyond blocking the violent assault, the glowing orb cast a faint, blue light into the murk smothering them. Shuddering in the sudden, wet cold, the male followed the illuminated flashes of nature's icy tirade whirling around them. It beat again the intruders of the heavens, attempted to plow them from their current altitude, and in its sheer power began to freeze the melting vapors gathering around the energy sphere. Frost began to crawl across the sides, reminding the creature that the barrier was not infallible - yes, he could keep them suspended here, difficult as it was against the wind current, but though the air within stilled and even warmed to an extent, but the spherical defense would only grow weaker as time passed. It was permeable, after all - it must be to provide fresh oxygen to the ones within it. As a result, the subzero temperatures would also seep in, a fact made visible by the creeping frost. Gritting his teeth against his own shivering, he felt his strength waver - the orb was tossed into the fray several feet, disorientating him, and he grappled to regain control over their position in the skies. He barely managed it; when they ceased tumbling, he cast out his senses, searching frantically for some semblance of shelter. They needed to land soon – to remain in this storm was suicidal! Beyond his own quivering muscles, he felt the female he held tremble, her form unconsciously huddling closer to him for warmth. Further insisting his need to find safety was the persistent flow of blood from her wounds: he needed to find her somewhere warm and dry, somewhere in which he could attend to her injuries – butwhere?

Lowering their altitude, he scanned the emerging landscape below fervently, trying to find in the gloom a haven to rest in for the night. Discovering none, his brow furrowed: all he saw were rigid cliffs, barren trees, and seas of ice. Essential minutes passed as he turned in place, analyzing the terrain with his keen vision and his extrasensory powers futilely…he noted that the female he cradled near was starting to breathe shallowly and her extremities were stiffening with the cold. She was attempting to conserve warmth and failing. Tightening his grip around her, he glanced down at her with worried eyes…he could not afford to linger here much longer. He would make one final effort to pinpoint a safe place in this region; if it failed, he would be forced to resort to long-distance teleportation once more…and after spending his energies so extensively in the past few days, first to reach this nation and then to battle as he had, his powers were nearly stretched to the point of failure. They might not reappear the next time…and if they did, but still could not find a sanctuary, it was all too likely that they would be captured…and such was the equivalent to death for them.

That dreadful possibility in mind, the male gathered and unleashed a wave of benign, yet blinding energy, the light of which temporarily washed across the miles below. As the light began to fade, his eyes dashed over the terrain, searching, searching-.

There! A handful of miles east lay a tiny clearing, which cradled what seemed to be a ranger's cabin. It would suffice their needs. In a reckless burst of speed, he flew towards the wooden abode, landing within the snow seven feet before its single door. The white dune nearly rose up to his knee joints, yet determinedly he strode forward, ignoring his numbing toes. Attempting to keep his wavering shield in place, he tore the door open to allow them entrance; its hinges shrieked in protest against the sudden abuse. As he leapt over the final bank into the lightless room, he swung the door snugglyshut behind them. Now immersed in quiet, the male breathed out a long, relieved sigh, which rose from his muzzle in a lilac mist. His eyes swiftly adjusted to the gloom as he glanced over the cabin's innards. It was scarcely furnished, possessing only one table in the dining area to the right, which contained a sink, counter, and cupboard space. As for the rest, firm wood made up the floors beneath his paws, and in the rafters were perhaps five rolled up blankets. On each wall, besides the one which he faced, were windows, the one near the door large enough for someone to perch upon its sill. Yet most importantly, the shelter wasdry, which was better than he had expected from what was clearly an abandoned building – he even spied a pile of firewood and kindling stored in one corner under a tarp, which looked eager to be burned. With what remained of his telekinesis, the male pulled the blankets from the rafters, unrolling and piling them onto the floor. He laid the wounded one upon them, burying her completely under the fabric to maximize potential warmth. She needed all the insulation they could provide her. In those same moments, he tossed a hefty pile of wood into the empty hearth, arranged the kindling carefully, and sent blue flames into its carbon heart. As the wood caught, the fire became golden-hued, and soon the sweet smell of burning wood, along with blessed heat and light, spilled into the room.

Relieved, but not quite satisfied, the male staggered into the dining area to check the pantry. Other than canned foods, which were well past their expiration dates, and a couple bottles of wine, the only reasonable sources of nourishment were packages of dried venison and fruits from the previous season. Opening the ration seals, he sniffed at them experimentally: they did not seem spoiled. Of course, he could not be so lucky as far as water went: the intake pipes no longer functioned, evidently having been cut off to avoid pipe damages from freezing fluids. Tossing the food packages onto the counter, he searched though the dishes in the cupboard, finding amongst them a dusty kettle. Grimacing, he went back outside, packing the tin with fresh snow. Returning inside, he placed the brimming container near the fire, the contents of which soon began to melt. As it did, he felt his aggravation melt also, and turning back to the female, he uncovered her, pleased to see she was regaining color. Shredding the hem of his own cloak into washrags, he sat beside her and began to attend to her injuries….

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Sometime later, the female began to drift awake, her body agitated underneath the stifling heat of the woolen weight above her. Opening her heavy eyes, she blinked up at an unfamiliar wooden ceiling; bronze light danced amongst the grain, shadows undulated in their wake, moving in the telltale flickering of firelight. For a moment Cassandra did not move, instead choosing to lie there, although sweaty and uncomfortable. It seemed she was still alive, and was now in a place far different that the arena she had last known. As the events associated with the battle site filtered into her brain, she closed her eyes slowly, accepting them and their consequences. She had made her choice…there would be no going back on it.

Lolling her head to the side to face the light, she remained silent as she spied Mewtwo standing beside the hearth. He was in profile, leaning against a forearm, which was pressed to the stonework of the mantel. His other arm was lifted, his paw clutching a chunk of jerky, which he tore into and chewed upon slowly. Glancing to the floor beside her, she found a small meal of dried meat and fruit laid out, a cup of water beside it. Hunger grumbled in her stomach, and so she reached out of the blankets tentatively, grasped a few pieces and stuffing them into her mouth. Salty-sweetness flooded her tongue, making her salivate, and she began to consume the meal greedily, sipping down the water soundlessly. All the while she watched him – he soon finished eating and stared into the fire with contemplating eyes. He had undone some of the ties of his cloak, so the front was partially split open, revealing him from collar to navel. His paws and tail also escaped the fabric confines, but he did not move, or even appear to realize that she was now awake, though she had eaten and drunken his offering. He was too lost in thought presently to realize…. And so her eyes swept over him once, twice…the firelight was doing some rather…interesting…things to his appearance, she noted. His features appeared warmer in the fiery glow, his fur silkier somehow, and he no longer held a ghostly parlor in tone. At the same time, the contrasting shadows and light made even the slightest of ridges and curves of his muscles firmer, more pronounced, reminding her that though he was a slender creature, he was most definitely male. She felt herself flush as she gazed at him, and realizing the implications, she tore her eyes from his form to gaze up into his face once more. He seemed to haverecovered from the battle…his injuries had vanished, no doubt thanks to his regenerativepowers; and he looked as if he were musing on some subject intently. Considering the past handful of hours, she couldn't blame him for that. So deep into his thoughts, it came as no surprise that he was proving inattentive to her waking.

Glancing around their surroundings, she found some amusement in the fact that they were in a cabin…as if the unavoidable firelight wasn't suggestive enough…. Once more, her eyes settled on him, and again came the damnable heat and a faint itch. Within her mind, she cursed him, and what adrenaline had obviously done to her system. Finally, she murmured aloud, over the crackling of the flames: "Mewtwo…where are we?"

Hearing her low voice, he turned towards her; his eyes softened minutely. His faint smile almost seemed peaceful, but was strained as he returned his gaze to the fire and answered her inquiry. (We are about three hundred miles north of Cerulean City, in the depths of the Mt. Moon Range. For the most part, this region is vacant and inaccessible during this time of year, and with this storm raging, no one should be able to pursue us immediately. Any roads that weave in this direction are now covered, and travel by air and foot is too reckless presently. Until dawn, we should be safe resting here…afterwards, we will doubtlessly need to move on.)

Cassandra tilted her head to look up at the ceiling. "…So you're saying we have tonight, at the very least?"

The clone did not answer for a moment; he had caught the full meaning of her words. Eventually he merely nodded once, and then quietly asked, (…How do you feel, Cassandra?)

In response, the woman sat up and winced soundlessly, and gave him a queer smile. "A little warm, but other than that…," she said, and trailed off, noticing abruptly that her jacket, shoes, and socks had all been removed and were sitting by the fire. Pulling her left heel to herself, she found it no longer bore the wound it had possessed, nor did she have the other gaping injuries she recalled having. Interesting…glancing at her companion, she raised an eyebrow. "You healed me while I was unconscious?"

Stepping over to her, the corner of one side of his mouth tucked upwards. Sitting down across from her, he watched her check over herself. (The worst of your wounds, yes…the minimal undressing was unavoidable, I'm afraid: your jacket and socks were soaked in blood. I washed them to the best of my abilities, but regardless, you yet retain your lesser injuries. Remembering the last time you awoke to me healing you, I had no desire to have the rude incident repeated.)

"I see…."

Her strange tone made him peer at her closer…her gaze seemed to be focused, not on the blankets beneath them, but on something farther away. He noted how the firelight danced over her complexion then, turning her dark skin into deep bronze, and threading her black hair with gold. All of her form, even her clothes, seemed softer and smoother…the dim light was the culprit, riding her of imperfections made more obvious in greater exposure. Her eyes though, they were what made him tilt his head slightly and stare: the silvery irises caught the hues of the flames, glimmering with pyrite and scarlet, which swirled in fiery waves around her pupils. Amidst his admiration, he felt a soul-deep sorrow clutch him, for his days with this creature were limited now, and each minute shortened their remaining time together. How long could they elude and survive the evil set on destroying them…?

Her gaze rose, catching his suddenly. Lifting her head, she released a soft, quiet breath and looking towards the windows said, "Heal me…all of my cuts and scrapes, heal them. We can't afford for either of us to gain an infection, not if we want to last more than a week on the run."

For an instant, Mewtwo hesitated out of uncertainly, for some of her lesser wounds graced near the private regions of her form. Should he use touch or not, knowing her previous reactions to intimate caresses? After all, he did notneedphysical contact to mend her injuries, though direct contact proved the most effectivein the process. However, answering his silent inquiry, she moved over, motioning for him to come closer. Coming to settle behind her, he started low first, grazing up her legs with his tail - that seemed less intrusive than fingers. Her hurts were easy to detect by sight, for they had burned or torn through her jeans. Finishing with her lower extremities, he loosely wrapped his arms around her, swiping a paw slowly across her stomach, the broken skin of which still leaked drops of blood through the scabbing. Unintentionally, as minutes passed and he discovered and healed her superficial injuries, his strokes, his embrace, became ever more sensual. Leaning back against him wordlessly, Cassandra closed her eyes, savoring the tingling sensations that arose as the slashes sealed; her nerves fired off at the slightest brushingsof his fingers. He was warm, she mused; as a feline, she supposed that Mewtwo's body was naturally at a higher temperature than hers was. She felt his palms weave up her arms, press through she sleeves…she felt him pull against the neck hem of her shirt, revealing her bare shoulder. Her eyes opened wide in surprise as his mouth, his tongue, brushed the area, making the stinging of the cut fade. Of course - he did not need to use his hands for this – the previous use of his tail was evidence of that.Anyphysical contact with him would encourage her cells to mend, for the healing energy dispersed off his skin, which was only lightly covered with fur. Evidently pleased that she had not given him any reproach for animalistic kiss, Mewtwo healed the last bit of marring, a bruise across her right cheekbone. His mouth brushed her face, not forceful, but light and warm.

He smells like mint, she thought; the sweetness was the natural odor of his fur, not an addition provided by scented soap….

Her companion paused then, wondering if he should cease his actions or continue. Cassandra had said nothing to dissuade him, and had seemed to enjoy his touches, but he was not someone who desired to pressure another for physical intimacy. After all, he had seen what force could do to a female, and as of such could not understand the appeal of it. What joy was there in seeing an unwilling mate shed the tears of pain? What joy was there in listening to her begging you to stop? What joy was there in witnessing her terror and hatred? Perhaps it provided a sexual predator a demented, cold form of satisfaction in triumphing over another creature so thoroughly, and the scent of blood provided sick delight. Yet to feel the one you yearned for fighting your presence, biting you, scratching you, doing anything within her power to shove the one boring into her away…no. He could not comprehend how anyone sane could gain joy from that; the assaulters' minds clearly did not realize the true form of ecstasy that could be derived from the act. They had never known the sensation of a lover holding them tightly, urging them closer…they had never heard their partner cry out their name in bliss…they had never felt their female movingwiththem until they could scarcely bear the pleasure of the rhythm. And afterwards, they had most certainly not been allowed to hold her, nor had they seen her smile. Mewtwo had, and to him those latter details brought him happiness in mating. Anything else was merely intolerable anguish.

His companion leaned more heavily against him, her muscles completely relaxed…she trusted him. What an oddity that seemed: they had been at each other's throats for weeks, had demolished one another's normal existences, but now they had utter faith between them. Mewtwo, his muzzle buried in her hair, wrapped his arms around her tighter, the insides of his legs pressed to the outsides of hers. Cradling her to him, breathing in her faint vanilla fragrance, he wondered if she was as weary as he was. Yet no, she could not be: she had slept these last few hours, while he had remained awake, watching over her. He was mentally and emotionally exhausted, his psychical powers weakened, his body nearly trembling with fatigue…but even knowing they were safe for a time, he had been unable to sleep. His mind had raced with contemplations of their next possible moves; ideally, he wished to keep them both alive as long as possible. But in the end…in the end, they might only have this one night of security.

The realization made his sorrow return in full, and leaning back against his coiled tail, he sagged slightly. What were they going to do? What couldhepossibly do that would truly protect her now that she'd…?

As the thought came to him, his heart hammered unexpectedly in his wonderment. A question rose in his mind, and quietly he reached up to stroke her hair gently. She turned to face him, just enough to look at his lifted paw.

(Cassandra…will you explain to me something?)

She looked back at him. "…If it's a question I can answer, yes."

The backs of his fingers brushed her face, coming to rest beneath her chin. (Why did you choose me?) He murmured. (Did you do so for your freedom, or…?)

He dared not hope otherwise. Freedom was her logical motive; it was far more reasonable than his own reasoning in coming for her…for Psyche had been entirely correct. The Espeon's words were more valid than he'd allowed himself to understand, for the notion they'd suggested had unnerved him. After all, if she was correct, it would mean that he washelplessto control his feelings for another being once more. As well, it meant reassuming the responsibilities of a mate, as her mate, the lover of a human…a strange human, to be certain, but still a human. Yet this he could have accepted…but now he was forced to face a consequence that truly frightened him: for his actions, he would be the cause of her death. Her discarded organization now regarded them as vermin and would exterminate them as such. He cared little for his own demise, but for hers,hers…!

Iftheysucceeded in murdering her, he would not pardon himself of the blame, for it would almost directly belong to him….

Cassandra, of course, already knew her answer to Mewtwo's inquiry; however, she could not say it to him. It was too fragile, too sensitive a declaration. Perhaps if they had not been in their present situation…but they were, and with so little time and hope, for her to murmur it to him now would only hurt them both gravely when their deaths arrived. So Cassandra would not say the three words that were her reason…she would not say she'd wanted to be near him for his warmth, his comfort, his affections….

Instead, she merely turned to him and said, "No…that's not why."

And then she leaned upwards and pressed her mouth to his. Tenderness and sadness mingled in the kiss, the blend heartbreaking in everything it conveyed between them: they would perish soon for choosing to be with one another. They would die because they'd wanted to be free to stand at each other's sides. Were the sacrifices of their lives worth this moment…? Perhaps, they thought, perhaps…. After an instant of the bittersweet contact, Cassandra began to pull away, and felt her companion's grip loosen around her. Yet within that second, she paused just as swiftly, and thought on what she had just murmured…it had been ambiguous, yes, but she knew what she did not have the nerve to say: that she had chosenhim, and nothing other than him - not even freedom. And if that was true, then why did she part from him? She had given upeverythingfor the short time she would be able to spend with this creature…so why not make the most of it? After all, they were very much alone in this place. They had several hours ahead of them in which there was no chance that they would be discovered, interrupted, and torn apart….

The realization was like an electric jolt shooting through her center, hot and startling – she jerked back in the shock of it. Mewtwo himself seemed to haveexpected the movement, for he made small motions of moving away to give her space. He was used to her physical rejection; although they had come close to sharing their bodies fully with each other in more recent times, she had never allowed them to consummate the union between them. Always at the last moment she'd closed herself off, though it proved painful for both of them to endure. Fear had barred her from surrendering herself to their mutual cravings…but now she wondered at that. What was it she feared: pain? Considering her occupation, that notion was ludicrous. Had the clone been correct to say that closeness terrified her? Again, that did not seem incredibly accurate; not unless that intimate proximity was a violation of her wants, a state forced upon her against her will. Yet not even Mewtwo could enter her without her consent anymore. Those who would attempt to force her to submit she could fight off successfully, and those who had unnatural power would not commit such a violent act without torturous repercussions. After all, for psychical beings the act of sex was not merely a union of the body, but of the psyche as well, and so the pain of the sufferer became the pain of the inflictor. And the clone, for all of his seemingly masochistic tendencies, did not enjoy pain. So what then was left that made her pause…?

Humiliation – that was it. She feared the shame of being used as an object of carnal pleasure, and in having a person inside of her who cared nothing for the stability of her soul. She feared being made into a toy and abused liked one, of being less than a person to the one she would give all aspects of herself to. In that comprehension, the woman felt her flesh warm as she looked back at Mewtwo, and then quickly averted her gaze, feeling her mouth dry with nervousness: because Mewtwo would never make her feel so inferior and worthless. Hence, simply put…she had absolutely no reasonnotto be with him completely. She had chosen him over her life in Team Rocket, over life in general…how hypocritical was it for her to continue shoving him away? Why would shenotlet him in when he hadalsogiven up everything for her? For god's sake, even now he wasn't trying to seduce her, though the situation was ideal for that form of surrender. No, he was far too honorable when it came to her, and that very nearly infuriated her; only her appreciation for such considerate gestures kept her from decking him and growling at him to pounce her already. His respectful regard was more than others had willing given, unless fear or obligation insisted they provide it. As of such, she supposed that madehima rarity, and terribly endearing to her.

So as her craving began to grow more insistent, she accepted it rather that repressed it…and that, she found, made quite a difference. A hint of excitement arose in the concept of being with him, and vaguely she wondered if he would even wish to, considering how weary he appeared. Yet not allowing that thought to level her sudden courage, she leaned up again to kiss his mouth soundly, allowing the desperate heat of it convey her desires to him. She felt him jerk minutely, surprised, and then she began to quiver softly as his embrace became firmer, almost possessive and unwavering. When the need for breath became too great to deny, she broke their kiss, gasping, and met his eyes: their violet depths glimmered with numerous emotions she couldn't interpret, but they seemed to be positive ones, which was encouraging. Still, she had to say something before they….

"Mewtwo, just…go slowly. My memories of when we were younger…sometimes they're clear enough that I can remember every detail, but in other ones I…I can't tell them apart from any dreams I've had, so…."

He cupped her face in a paw, his thumb caressing her mouth softly, making her lips tingle. (…If you are certain of this, I intend to savor it, so…do not worry. I will not rush you.)

Cassandra's mouth formed into a small, somewhat nervous smirk at that. "I'm sure, damn you."

He chuckled, his laugh short and low as he pulled her to him, brushing his mouth to hers. There was a deeper intensity to his voice as he murmured, (Then let us make some new memories together, dove.)

Before she could make a retort to his usage of the pet name, his mouth covered hers, and she swiftly forgot what she would have said in response. Their lips cradled each other, a little bit of tongue darting out, soft and sweet against teeth and mouth. One of Mewtwo's paws curled into her silken hair, which remained styled from her now meaningless wedding, and for a moment he grinned at the irony of her binding herself to one male and consummating the union with another. But such thoughts were smothered as she pressed herself closer to him, leaning her body into his hold. With him seated as he was, and her position on her knees before him, neither of their faces was higher than the other, ideal for their lengthy kisses. He wrapped an arm about her thighs, holding her firmly to him…she was breathing quicker, her heart beating rapidly…he forced himself to keep in mind that this was essentially their first time all over again. He found the thought not an unpleasant one, for the thoroughness their first night together had been absent in their explorations of one another in the two months after they'd initiated their first romance. After all, they had swiftly learned where everything was and went, and so a certain amount of the original thrill of discovery had been subsequently lost. Yes,otherpleasures had replaced that aspect as experience and skill were gained; however, he enjoyed memorizing her with his mouth and paws. God help him, he savored touching each inch of her before taking all of her for himself….

The sensation of her hands at his face returned him to the present, for which he was grateful. Her palms and fingers were gentle and soft as she smoothed the taunt lines of his brow. She stroked his muzzle, beneath his eyes, moved her hands behind his head towards the bases of his necks. Tingling sensations arose as she traced her fingers down the second one, making him shudder; he was intensely sensitive there. His reaction pleased her, and smiling she kissed him again, her hands slightly shaking as they found their way to his collar and ran across the bony plates of his shoulders and chest. He leaned back slightly to enjoy her gentle rubbing, and felt her begin to pull at the remaining ties of his cloak, her touch inching down his ribs, his stomach, and his midriff as she worked. He rolled his shoulders, releasing her long enough to slide his arms from their sleeves so his cloak pooled around his waist. This would do for now…feeling her fingers against his sides, running across his back, was delightful enough for the moment. Sighing, he pulled her against him, pressing his muzzle to her collar briefly, before letting his paws slide under her shirt. She lifted her arms then in an almost automatic response, allowing him to remove the now uncomfortably hot sweatshirt from her upper body. Not spending time to note it where it fell in the blankets beneath them, the clone regarded her undulating chest wordlessly before embracing her to him. It was wondrous, the sensation of her soft skin against his fur. He let his fingers wander across her flat belly, between her shoulder blades, and he hesitated only for a moment before stroking her breasts. She closed her eyes for a short while, tilting her head back, whimpering somewhat at the pressure. Smirking, he allowed his telekinesis to undo the fabric between them…his fingertips were, unfortunately, not dexterous enough for that work. Still, the undergarment was removed swiftly, and as he admired her, he saw the chain of her necklace against her skin, the decorative cross hanging above her cleavage. For some reason that struck him as somewhat comical: was she trying to ward him away somehow, as if he were a demon? Of course not; he had given that to her, after all. When he made the motion to undo it as well and set it aside, she stopped him, shaking her head…it was a material symbol of their bond. Why remove it as they completed it in other ways?

He let it be, and slowly ducked down and kissed at her navel, nuzzling her flesh and feeling her muscles grow taunt. Now she was the one bracing herself, her arms thrown behind her to keep herself from falling onto her back. A soft moan rose from her throat as his lips moved across her ribs, and then between her breasts…the sound became a sharp cry as his long tongue licked at her dark, hardening nipples slowly. She tasted sweet, he mused…like cream with a dash of salt from the thin sheen of sweat beginning to adorn her. When he ceased nipping at her, he lifted his muzzle, seeing her tan flesh had darkened as a flush had spread across it from internal heat…and then he noticed the first obvious scar. It stretched from beneath her choker at the left side of her neck and down across her chest, ending at her right breast. The pearly line had not been there when she'd been sixteen. Indeed, now that he searched for them, he noticed several new markings as he swept his gaze over her, many of which formed shallow creases in her back. Yet this one…someone had come close to her with a knife. Someone had tried to slash her throat, and she had only just managed to pull away in time to evade mortal injury….

His expression contorted as he breathed against it…she had endured so much pain…but no more. He would make certain of that…he would make certain she never gained fresh scars again….

He licked along this one, kissing occasionally, taking her shoulders in his paws as he nuzzled her, encouraging her to expose her throat to him. When she did, he found another reminder of the suffering she'd endured: that damned collar she had been forced to wear, the silent symbol of her being owned by her godfather, as nothing more than a prized pet or servant. Seeing it made him quiver in rage and disgust…for she was a slave no longer. That accursed man no longer controlled her, but the wretched choker was yet wrapped about her neck like a dog collar. He reached upwards, intent on removing it and pulling it away, freeing her fully from Giovanni's enslavement-.

She stopped him, a frightened look on her face. He then remembered the purpose of the binding: her wings. If he removed the choker, her dark, feathered wings would be exposed. The strange, twin limbs set her apart from other humans, marking her as a mutation…but why should she care if he beheld them? Did she think he minded them and what they represented: her ability to soar against nature's usual creeds? No; he had always savored stroking her pinions, had always enjoyed preening her…so why did she attempt to stop him? Did she mistakenly believe her wings disgusted him, though he had never once shown an aversion to them…?

Nuzzling her face with his, and kissing her eyes and cheeks, he murmured, (Let me do this…you needn't hide anything from me - especially not an integral part of yourself….)

And so her hands fell to their sides, and though she quivered as he concentrated on the clasp with his telekinesis, she did not stop him from removing the collar. She whimpered softly as he pulled it from her and encountered resistance to the action…he soon enough saw why she had not wished it removed. He scarcely noticed her wings appearing in black folds behind her when he saw the skin of her neck. The flesh once hidden beneath the choker was torn, blistered, and bloodied, almost certainly from being scathed and burned by the choker's hot wires and metal. Removing it several times a week was the only way to avoid damage greater than simple agitation, and he could not help but blame himself as much as Giovanni for her current injuries: he had forced her to wear the godforsaken device for the past month, never allowing her a reprieve from its harmful grasp. Cursing under his breath, he tossed the collar away violently, not caring if it broke. His sole concern was for her raw flesh, pink with scar tissue failing to heal properly. Damn her godfather…damn him to hell…!

Regulating his breathing, he whispered: (This will only hurt a moment.)

He reached beneath her hair, placing his palm against the back of the wound; she cried out at the stinging pain, but her gasp quieted as the flash of hurt faded as he allowed another Recover to wash through her skin, replacing the damaged cells with whole ones…and then he kissed her remaining hurts away until her neck was whole and smooth again. No more pain…he wanted her to feel no more pain because of her devil of a guardian….

He kissed her beneath an ear, his hands and tail rising up her shoulder blades to the base of her wings…her down, dark as thunderclouds, was incredibly soft against his fingertips. He ran his paws through her feathers, across the ridges, the tip of his tail brushing her wingtips. She sighed into his collar, her breath warm and moist; her pleasure at his touch emanated from her as she did. Her wings were incredibly sensitive…they could detect the tiniest shifts in the wind and in temperature, and so his touching them like this provoked nearly as much bliss in her as him caressing even more intimate parts of her body. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, clutching him close, dragging her hands along his muscles…was he purring? The thought fled her mind as his paws fell to her legs. They tickled against the soles of her feet briefly, raced up her lower legs, resting at the base of her thighs, before cautiously beginning to rise up. She closed her eyes, letting him continue, leaning against him as his fingertips skimmed over her rear lightly, then slowly graced between them. The pressure of his paws there - even though her jeans - made her quiver. Encouraged by her response, he eased a paw beneath her belt…she did not struggle away his palm run against the bare skin of her hips and thighs, nor as his hand slid between them, gracing the tender flesh and soft dark curls there. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she began to gasp at his fondling…she was slick to his touch, yearning for it. She displayed her readiness by next helping him to undo her belt and slip off her remaining clothing. The final bit of undressing was over in a matter of seconds as she laid back, both their hands pushing the garments down her legs. Like her other clothes, these were discarded, unless items now in the act they intended to commit. For a moment, Mewtwo admired her fully, smiling at what he saw. In minute ways she had changed, her form shaped fully into that of an adult's. Although her skin was marred with scars, he did not care...she was his partner. She always had been….

By God…I have missed you….

He drew her into his arms, and her naked form yielded to his, as if the very patterns of their muscles fit together. She was tense now, not in fear but in apprehension. He was not surprised – who would not be nervous? It had been years since they had done this: three years, in fact, and that was a long time in the life of a young adult. Holding her close, he traced the scars on her back, and felt Cassandra's hand slip again to him to rid him of his cloak entirely. Her fingers stroked at the base of his tail, up his thick legs, resting at his waist…they kissed once more, savoring the taste of it and the hot moist of each other's mouths. This…it was a good thing, what they shared...why anyone would call it a monstrosity was beyond their comprehension…. They held each other tightly, caressed one another, limbs rubbing, forms quivering, their breathes coming in what was closer to pants. At some point Mewtwo felt her reach down, rubbing almost painful circles between his legs. Blood pooled, the area growing hot enough to make him growl with pleasure as the smoothness of his anatomy bulged outwards faintly. Complete arousal would come to him soon, he knew…but he removed her hands for the moment, wanting to enjoy her just a little bit longer before completing them both….

His mouth trailed downward, his tongue licking at her skin, which seemed to pulse beneath his muzzle. He felt her arms wrap around him, felt her moving against him for the sensation of it…by the time he kissed her navel, he needed to pause. Her sweet scent had been strengthening in his descent, and now he realized with a start that he recognized it…and as it had always done times previous, he felt it begin to affect him. In the past, he had hated the aroma and how it had made him yearn for her; but currently it seemed fitting that this was the time of month when she was most vulnerable to carnal cravings. Automatically his muscles tightened, and he moaned quietly as his member slid free of its pelvic sheath. The wait would not be long now…but while it lasted, it would be torment for them both. They were aching for one another…the longing way they gazed at one another, the manner in which their movements had gained an edge of desperation, displayed that fact aptly. How much longer could they remain separate like this…?

Cassandra wasn't certain…as she leaned against him, feeling his length slide against the inside of her thigh, they both shuddered with yearning. Her own trembling had stilled earlier, but now he had taken up the involuntary shaking as he fought to keep himself from rushing forward and penetrating her. Running her fingers along him, she heard him hiss out in response…was it from pleasure or pain, or a mixture of both? She sighed against his neck, wondering why he hesitated now; they were ready…why didn't he move? Why did he continue to wait, prolonging the cold and their suffering…?

He was waiting for her, she realized suddenly, waiting for her consent. But he had it, and then some, for she wanted him desperately now despite her wariness. It struck her then that his need to hear her say "yes" wasn't right…he was always held himself back for her, never acting out of his own desire…and this was supposed to be an act between equals, between two parts of a whole, both sides joining together in mutual lust and affection. Yet he would not forge the connecting motion unless she allowed it, and while there was merit and value to that, it now proved an unnecessary and unwanted hitch in the act. No, she did not want his fear of forcing her to be an issue any longer…she did not want to make this difficult for him.

Besides, hadn't they waited long enough…?

"Mewtwo…."

She said his name quietly, capturing his attention…his back straightened as he lifted his face, and she kissed him tenderly, warmly. Her small nose pressed against the side of his muzzle as their gazes locked together, silver to amethyst. Continuing to peer into his face, she shifted position in his arms, keeping balance with her hands by grasping his shoulders to steady her movements. She slid one leg, then the other over his hips, her knees clasping his sides…her body hung over his, and she felt both their grips on each other tighten as she moved forward, feeling the tip of him prick into her sex. His fingertips dug into her hard as she slowly and deliberately slid herself down onto him, drawing him deep inside, stopping only when their hips brushed together. Her limbs locked around him tightly once they were joined…the feeling of him, hard, hot, and pulsing within her made her gasp sharply as her body arched into him. She murmured his name again, and wondered to herself that if what they shared was such an unnatural and perverse thing, then why,whydid they fit together as perfectly as they did…?

Her partner's arms wove around her waist, his hands at her hips as he pulled away slightly and rushed forward, moving himself into her core. The rocking of his hips into hers was slow at first as they both sought to grow used to the almost unbearable waves of pleasure washing through them with each thrust, but then quickened as need took over the rhythm. Skin moved slick against damp fur, soft cries of ecstasy were smothered against each other, in a residual habit from a time where silence equaled their safety. Fingertips dug into one another, limbs swept against each other, mouths kissed and bit and pressed passionately together. Their breathes were equally hitched, quick, shallow, and intermitted with moans of bliss…their hearts raced within their chests until they could beat no faster. Occasionally they murmured one another's names, and as the pace sped between them, their bodies moving together in ways learned and remembered, the rapture and grace between them built up deep inside, ever higher….

They had both nearly forgotten what it felt like to be so intimately connected with another being…yet now fresh experience burned the memory into them, one which would not fade in time. As they swayed together, Mewtwo murmured his mate's name…he had a way of saying the word in those moments which made her thrill and ensnared her full attention. She met his eyes fully…and in the entirety of the universe, nothing else seemed to exist but them in their private tryst, drenched in firelight and making lovetogether. For what else could this act between them be called? Blunter terms held none of the connotations descriptive of thefeelingin their mating…! They gazed into each other's faces as they moved together, the intensity of their displayed emotions almost frightening: the marrow-deep yearning, the blended happiness and sorrow, the pure, shared bliss…and something far more soulful, far more meaningful. Affection, warmth, and devotion mingled and deepened until the mixture bore another name…and discovering it in Mewtwo's eyes, Cassandra lowered hers and buried her face into his shoulder. She breathed him in, felt him stroking her hair, and watched his tail twist behind him in slow, erratic patterns. Neither of them would acknowledge in spoken words what that beautiful and bittersweet emotion was, although both knew in certainty that it was there between them.

After all, they were both empathic creatures…as close as they were now, they could sense what their partner felt, and each sensation, each emotion became superimposed on the other until their individual experiences melded into one. What walls had stood between them were lowered now, leaving them both vulnerable and fragile…and so they treated each other gently, not repelled by the faults each possessed…they accepted these flaws and embraced the other regardless. They passed no judgment onto one another when their souls were laid out bare before them…stains of sin were unavoidable in life, and rejecting each other now would be a naïve and heartless cruelty. So as heavenly minutes passed, they found something perfect in their complete liaison of body, heart, soul, and mind, a perfect pleasure, a perfect joy…:

They were not alone anymore. Each caress, each movement, each gasp drew them closer together, in a spell of bonding they were loath to break. As the final moments of the act approached, Cassandra clung to her beloved harder, her body writhing against his in desperate motions. Her partner slid one of his paws beneath her left knee, his other arm wrapping around her shoulders, each grip to hold her firm as she reached the highest point of her bliss. He then buried his face within the crook of her neck, his teeth sinking into her tender skin in a painless nip. His movements quickened further, becoming stronger and more erratic, the pulsing of it making the primordial sea they shared, already turbulent, heave in swells of ecstasy that threatened to drown them both. His angel succumbed first under the waves; the building pleasure within her crested, crashing down into her. As she quivered uncontrollably in his hold and arced into him, her wings folded him into their embrace, and a thought entered her mind, surfacing over the final waves of rapture….

Mewtwo…I….

She felt him follow her, his body tensing suddenly, his grip on her tightening enough to leave bruises, the growl of bliss he'd been voicing cutting off abruptly as he brought his full weight against her. As he shuddered, Cassandra clutched him tightly inside, feeling his warmth burst into her core; he had followed her into surrender, unable and not needing to curb the urge any longer….

As the waters began to settle and their movements slow, the thought completed itself in her quieting mind:

…I don't want to lose you.

With that, at last, they ceased to sway, and separated with reluctance. Their souls disentangled, and Mewtwo slid himself from his beloved's still burning flesh with a heavy sigh. Weakness followed them both now that their lovemaking was complete, and they leaned against each other for support, their limbs yet clutching one another firmly. Both of their forms yet experienced twinges of residual pleasure, physical echoes of the bond, and the perspiration over them helped to cool their heated forms. Their faces remained flushed, but their heartbeats began to return to normal and their breathing slow as silent minutes passed. Eventually Mewtwo realized the woman he cradled in his arms was trembling…and then a hot, salty droplet ran down his cheek. Lifting his muzzle, he pulled away just enough to gaze into her face. She…was crying. His brow furrowed as he leaned closer to her, gently kissing away the tears she was shedding. Why…? Why did she…?

(Cassandra…?)

She opened her eyes and stared for an instant into his face, before she curled herself up to him, her hand stroking at his cheek. Her mouth pressed to his, warmly, tenderly, and she smiled…but it was a sad smile. Quietly, she whispered, "Don't…. Let's just…enjoy tonight, okay?"

This might be the only night they had to spend together. In the coming dawn Giovanni might arrive…they might die…and she wanted to savor the time they had fully so she could face death without any regrets. Slowly she drew him down and lay out onto her back below him, her wings spread out beneath her. Her lover crouched over her, and closed his eyes as she ran a palm from his face down to the violet hue of his naval. They were both exhausted…but that did not mean they could not share each other again….

In the coming hours, the two joined a few more times, and writhed together within the soft covers of the blankets that made their bed. Each union proved slower and sweeter than the one preceding it, as dark hair and skin and pale fur mingled, as muscles coiled about each other, and eyes and mouths and bodies met. In those moments, as the two rose and fell against one another, as they clutched each other close, as they lost themselves in their mutual passion, they forged creations between them that, if revealed, would be viewed as unholy by those around them. Even then, the pair realized that within them the spiritual aspect of their bond became an almost physical tie, like a cord woven between them. Its ends were firmly wrapped around their beating hearts, and the inevitable breaking of the connection made them treasure it even more…. Yet at the same time, they made together creations they knew nothing of, creations that could alter their world if discovered. However, the pair remained ignorant of this, and so merely savored the night in which they freely could be as one. Tonight only their union mattered, of two opposing parts joining a complementary whole; one of female and male, human and pokémon, angel and demon, dark and light, fire and ice…and in their meeting arose their personal heaven on Earth, no matter what others believed it to be….

Resting across from each other later, they stared upon one another, their fingertips brushing skin and fur lightly in comforting, affectionate touches. Mewtwo traced the silver line of the chain necklace he had given her, and she closed her eyes, burying her face into the blankets beneath them as she turned over onto her front. He sat up, suppressing the dizziness the motion resulted in, and gazed down at her, running his fingers through her feathers and down across her back in random patterns. His beloved peered at the fabric she was clutching, warmed in her heart and core at his touch. Yet despair underlay her joy, settling like a dense fluid, thick and heavy, under bright water. How much longer did they have? How much longer would it be before the organization found them and she lost her mate? As the gruesome scenarios ran through her mind, she shuddered and curled her limbs close to her…she did not want to witness his death or be the cause of it...she couldn't bear that…!

Remembering the events preceding her decision to betray her godfather, she murmured softly, to no one in particular: "Giovanni is planning something terrible...and not just concerning his punishment for you or me, Mewtwo."

The pale feline's hand stroked between her shoulder blades as he thought on that. After a time, he replied, (Yes…that man is always plotting destruction in some form or another. But you and I are not heroes, Cassandra…it is not our task to save the land from his evil, though we turned against him. Surviving will be enough of a struggle for us…trying to level his empire is not within our power. No, dove…I would much rather spend what time I have left with you, rather than using it in an attempt to slay the dragon.)

…He was right. Still, she worried….

At some point, she rolled over to face him: his violet eyes were shockingly soft as he regarded her, his expression warm…but he too dreaded what was to come in the morning. She could see that in the creases around his brow and mouth, could sense it in his spirit. Their hearts ached for one another, longed for more time, but accepted what was to occur. At least they harbored the memories of this twilight to provide them solace…but would it be enough? They had to believe so…. Slowly then Cassandra rose onto her arms, and reached out to grasp the collar they had discarded earlier. Perhaps they should try to make a little more time for themselves... Yes, in the end, what she wished to ask Mewtwo to do would not distract Team Rocket from searching this region, but it would help keep the couple safe when they left this place. Turning towards her dearest, Cassandra held out her choker and stated, "The tracking chip...can you remove it?"

After a second of consideration, the clone nodded, and as he took it from her, his eyes glimmered with blue light. He levitated the device before himself, using minute, delicate motions of his telekinesis to undo the tinyscrews and clasps which held together its outer, metallic shell. Removing it, he peered into the item's inner mechanics, noting the various wires and operating chips; the energy conversion panel; the molecular disruptor device, which was attached to a flat-space panel, much like what was used inside poke'balls. All of the components were hideously bulky and outdated in the present year of the computer era, and could easily be improved upon...but ultimately, Giovanni had chosen not to tweak a mechanism that already worked sufficiently enough for his purposes. Finally, as Mewtwo probed the mechanical guts further, he found the minuscule, tan plug-in that represented the tracking chip. Removing it, he held it in his palm for a short moment before smirking slightly and, in a flash of azure, teleporting the traitorous component away. Reassembling the choker, the psychic returned the now mostly benign device to his mate.

"If I may ask, where exactly did you send the chip?" She said as she put the choker on wordlessly, allowing her wings to vanish in a flash of black light.

Her partner's smirk only widened. (South, to a frozen lake within the Seafoam Islands. I doubt Giovanni's agents will enjoy exploring the caverns, given the twists and turns, and given the ruler within, who will delight in luring them to their icy deaths. Having once lived on an isle near her domain, I heard rumors of her favorite pastimes...it seems only right to check unnatural violence with nature's own cruelty.)

Not knowing how to respond to the imagery, Cassandra merely sighed. "Well, at least now they'll have to work to find us."

Her mind now at greater peace, the woman lay back down, her back to her mate, and moved closer to his warmth, as if desiring him to curl up behind her. He did just that, pressing his chest and navel to her back, curling his legs by hers, and wrapped her in his arms and tail, his muzzle resting in her hair. For an indiscernible time, they watched the fire burn as they lay together like that, before Mewtwo noted his mate's expression, which was clouded with heavy contemplations. He kissed her cheek and asked her what troubled her. She merely looked back at him with a soft smile, and said it was nothing….

Yet as she felt him drift off behind her, and as she rested her arms on his, their hands coming to rest across her abdomen, she found she couldn't find sleep so easily as he…for now it was her turn to wonder how she could possibly save him from the wrath she had brought down upon them both. After over an hour, she fell into dark dreams with those worries in mind, and took comfort only in being able to feel her beloved breathing beside her so peacefully….

Before them, the fire flickered and cast its light over them, mimicking their ardor in golden heat….

---

Dawn was breaking in the east when Cassandra awoke beneath the covers alone, the sunrise's pale, blue light filtering in through the cabin's windows. As she opened her eyes, she groggily realized that the fire had gone out, and was now nothing more than a pile of cinders in the hearth. If it weren't for the fabrics that encompassed her, she knew she would be shivering with cold, her naked flesh proving little defense against the chill that pervaded the room. Slowly she sat up, wrapping one of the blankets around herself as she did so, and blinked as she gazed around the cabin. It seemed frozen in still life without the lively, flickering light of the fire, but soon enough she found what she sought within its walls: her partner sat on the sill of the largest window, staring out into the wintry landscape that surrounded their secluded tryst. The sky, she noted with a jolt, was of clear and perfect azure hue, with only feathery wisps of white within it. The snowstorm had passed, and while on any other day the current weather might have been regarded as beautiful, Cassandra now found the open firmament loathsome. Dread pooled in her chest - their time of safety was at an end. Evidently, Mewtwo had woken sometime earlier, perhaps with the intent of standing watch for the approach of the ones surely pursing them – the tracking device in her choker would ensure they would head into this region. Now that the weather was calm, nothing remained to hinder their advance. Cassandra's hands clutched the blanket around herself tighter at the thought…she had already planned and agonized over her next course of action, one she believed to be the wisest to pursue. But could she go through with it? Looking at Mewtwo, she felt her heart twist uncomfortably within her chest. Shivering from more than the low temperature, she rose to her feet and searched for her clothes, swiftly finding them and pulling them on.

Her companion, noticing her movements, regarded her current actions with a smirk, and called out: (Getting dressed so soon?)

Peering at him with a droll look, she chuckled quietly as she pulled on her dried socks. "What? You not tired of making the naked pretzel yet? You really are an animal…I envy your stamina."

His grin widened for a fraction of a second, before he turned his eyes back to the lightening firmament, searching for what had yet to invade the mountains.

Turning her back to him, the woman fastened her belt, and then slipped on her jacket and the loaded holster of her gun. In the pocket of the first she dug, searching for the seam within its depths. Finding the loose string, she began to tug at it gently, soon tearing a small hole in the fabric. A tiny pouch, barely large enough to hold a steel ball bearing, was stuffed amongst the padding. "How long have you been keeping watch?" she asked.

In an equally casual tone, the white demon replied, (I slept perhaps six hours after drifting off with you…so, about four hours now.)

She frowned, contemplating how drained he must be, both physically and psychically. "…You should have slept more, Mewtwo. It isn't healthy for you to-."

(As I mentioned to you once before, I am an insomniac. Furthermore, you were in more need of rest than I was, and I did not wish to force you to remain awake to keep vigil over me. Do not worry so, woman. Have we not already established that I recuperate far more quickly than you do?)

Soothing as he attempted to make his voice, she noted fatigue in its depths, and could see a dullness in his eyes that bespoke of weariness. As of such, his words provided her no great comfort or reassurance….

Reaching a finger into the pouch, she felt for one of the tiny tablets within the cotton lining. Out of his sight, the female pulled out one carefully: it looked harmless, as small and pale as a snow pea. Yet gulping down two of the tablets was suicide for a human, and coma inducing for most pokémon, who could endure the chemical abuse. The female tucked the sphere beneath her tongue – the outer shell was insoluble, needing to be crunched open to release the potent powder inside. It would only prove destructive to her if she bit down and swallowed. For a moment she peered into the ashes of the fireplace with half-lidded eyes, her body stilling under the weight of what she was about to do, before she walked over to her beloved. Feeling like a second Judas, she paused before the one who loved her regardless of the evil she carried within her soul, for he extended his right arm and invited her to his side despite her sins. She stepped forward and curled herself to him, the warmth of him flowing through his cloak like a poultice to her pain. Outside, the edge of the sun's brilliant disk illuminated the peaks and forests, and cast golden light onto their faces through the glass.

Would he forgive her?

She did not know, and in her uncertainty, for a fragile, fleeting instant she considered abandoning her plans, of spitting out the capsule and remaining with him, a loyal companion until death. But…to do so meant she would damn him instead of her own soul, and in doing so she would lose him utterly. Held by him, she pressed her face into his shoulder and mused that it was not fair. It was notfairthat they were doomed, that they were being forced to return to the shadows just after finding miraculous light within each other, a light with which they longed to form a future….

But existence was not fair - their lives were a testament to that fact.

Cassandra then silenced her writhing emotions and forced herself to cease stalling. To linger was to tempt fate and endanger him even more. So, softly she whispered her dearest's name, and after gaining his attention leaned forward, caressing his mouth with hers. With her back teeth, she cracked the shell of the capsule, and then slipped the disintegrating tablet into his mouth with her tongue. Breaking away, she clasped his jaws in her hands and held them tightly shut, tilting his head back as she did so. For a handful of seconds, he struggled to comprehend what she was doing and had done, and in those integral seconds the powder inside the capsule drained into his saliva, melting into a spiked liquid that he began to choke on as it pooled in the back of his throat. Breathing through his nose was impossible with the liquid there, and for precisely that reason Cassandra refused to let him out of her grasp. Although he swiftly attempted to push her away to regain the ability to open his mouth, to spit out the substance and to breathe, he was not forceful enough in his struggles, and his own body's impulses betrayed him. With panicked lungs needing fresh oxygen, his throat moved to swallow the fluid that was in the way, and as it went down and he could inhale once more, he stiffened and stared at his partner with wide eyes. As he began to tremble, she wrapped her arms around his torso, and half-carried, half-dragged him back to the blankets she'd recently left vacant. Settling him upon the covers and playing one over him so he wouldn't be chilled, she knelt beside him, watching with dull eyes as his body shook with convulsions. She could not meet his eyes, which she knew gleamed with the hurt of being betrayed, but held his paw firmly, unable to resist the gesture of solace….

(Cassandra…what have you…?)

In a dull, tired voice, she murmured to him, "What I gave you was a concentrated dose of a sedative-hypnotic, which usually renders an adult, human male unconscious for about eighteen hours. Considering your high metabolism though, I don't believe it will keep you under for more than a third of that. I…I apologize, but since I doubted you would let me go without an argument – an argument we don't have time for - this was the only way I could think of that would keep you safe. It will separate us long enough for me to draw the bastards away…after all, they're tracking me right now, not you."

The more she spoke the heavier her body felt, unwilling to move though her mind commanded it. Steeling herself for departure, she fleetly kissed Mewtwo's face one last time and said: "Please don't come after me this time. You told me I could chose my own path if I wanted, even if it was away from you, and that you'd accept it if I did. So that's what I…what I need you to do: I need you to go on living, without me."

And to drive the nails of her resolve into him, she whispered into his ear in a firmer voice: "Don't make me your only hope for happiness, Mewtwo…and don't try to save me. You'lldietrying, and I won't have that. I've lost too many of the people I cared about to that man; I won't let him kill you too!"

Then, finally, her strength broke – tears stung and flowed from her eyes onto his face, and she squeezed his fingers within her own. "Th-thank you, though," she murmured, "Thank you for trying. I wish…!"

No…now was not the time for sentimental declarations. As it was, there never would be a moment for them, but this was a time of haste and underlying regret. She would leave now before her will shattered completely, and her crumpling heart would take strength from the idea that at least he would be okay – heartbroken, perhaps, but he would escape Giovanni's wrath. Still, she wanted to lie beside him so terribly…but instead she pulled away from his warmth, stood, and turned away from him. With heavy steps, she went to the door and tugged it open; the brisk, frigid air froze the tear streaks on her face. A world of white stretched before her, contrasting her wretchedness with its purity, and made her feel akin to the most repulsive of creatures for this act of treachery. Though she warned herself not to do so, told herself it was best to walk away without showing a single sign of uncertainty, she looked back at him. His image imprinted itself into her memory: of him pushing himself up upon one arm, struggling to rise among the blankets, his being trying to make her stop from going through with the departure and failing in the task. Perspiration had broken out across him in his fight against the sedative, his eyelids drooped and his eyes shifted in and out of focus, and his paws clutched the sheets beneath him. His cloak twisted about his form, concealing the pale and deep violet fur she had felt against her skin in hours previous. And then his voice called out, soft and labored, (Cassandra…dove…wait. Don't….)

He nearly broke her resolve with those few words. But in the end, she merely clenched her hands into fists and said, "I'm sorry…I hope you'll understand someday."

Those words spoken, she stepped out into the snow and closed the door behind her. Before the notion of changing her mind could grip her, she began to run through the white dunes, waves of ice flying before her as she made her way. Beneath her clothes, which were scarcely proper for this frozen environment, she grew soaked and hot from the reckless exertion of her muscles, but she pressed onwards, making a path for herself into the iced forest. She did not pause to open the slits in the back of her jacket, through which she could thrust her wings; for though she would travel faster by air, for the next couple of minutes sheneededto feel her bodyburn,and be surrounded by thecorpsesof trees, rather than a bright and peacefuldawn. She needed to run away from him;neededto allow herself a moment to regain enough control over herself to cease her weeping. Only then would she fly from this place, for only then would the act be reasonable. As she struggled to compose herself, she could hear her heart pounding hard beneath her ribs, in a constant, thunderous rhythm, its beats in time with her racing steps as she made her way a fourth of a mile from the cab-.

No….

…That wasn't her pulse pounding in her ears.

The rhythm was far too slow for that!

With rising horror, Cassandra halted as she recognized the noise for what it was: a helicopter beating its blades in the still, cold air. She looked up through the bony branches of the trees above her, the witnesses to her so-called ungodly relationship with her mate, who seemed to beseech retribution from a deity above upon the pair for their indiscretions. And they would have it; Cassandra comprehended this as the sound became ever louder, echoing off the crags until it drowned out everything else. The roar reached its zenith as the black vehicle swooped through the air over the treetops above her, and for an instant the woman prayed it would discover her, hover there, and shoot her into bloody pieces rather than what she knew would truly occur. Her plea was not answered; the aircraft flew onwards hurriedly, the focus of its occupants upon another location…the location she had just abandoned. Without a thought to her own safety, Cassandra sprinted back the way she'd come: there was no way she could hope to arrive at the cabin before the vehicle reached it, no way she could drag the clone to safety, no matter how fast she ran. It was hopeless attempt, but still Cassandra ran, desperate to defend the life of someone far more precious to her than her own. In her mind's eye, she visualized the impossible: of reaching him first and waking him, and somehow finding a way to escape the ones who now threatened them. If she had known her old organization was this close…if she had known, she-!

The clearing of the cabin sprung before her, and over it hung the helicopter, menacing as a poisonous, hungry wasp above a harmless ant. As Cassandra sprinted forward, screaming, she watched as the bottom of the vehicle unhinged, watched as the missile-carrier lowered and aimed….

And then she watched, helpless to do anything more, as they fired.

Within an instant the cabin was obliterated, the blinding flash of its destruction impregnated with shards of woods, ash, and flames. Its explosiveforce knocked her from her footing, making her stumble and fall back into the trees. As her head struck the ice-encrusted tree trunk behind her, she blacked out for a few, blissful moments. Yet even unconscious, she could feel the stinging pain of burning debris and sharp twigs against her exposed skin, and greater than them the sensation of something deep within her snapping apart and wrenching a piece of her heart with it. Upon awaking she opened her eyes slowly…and they shot wide as she saw what little remained of the cabin was ablaze, its innards exposed to the smoky sky above it. The aircraft that had caused its ruin circled once before darting off, but Cassandra paid it little mind. She struggled to her feet and ran forward…she heard herself shrieking out a single word over and over again in a desperate, mournful scream. She dashed recklessly into the fire and cinders, her eyes reflecting the devilish flames surrounding her. He must be there somewhere…he could not be gone…! Yet little was recognizable among the incinerated wreckage. Regardless, she fell to her knees and dug her hands into the grey, searing ashes, refusing to believe them to be those of cremation, and in them she searched for something, anything of him. She found nothing left of her dearest, not even shard of bone or a seared scrap of his cloak. For a horrid second, hope began to form in her despair, like an embryo growing rapidly in the womb. Perhaps he had somehow teleported away in time to escape this destruction, perhaps he'd-.

But no,no,that was impossible! Although he had withstood explosions of this magnitude before, he had always done so using his psychical shield. However, she herself had left him even weaker than he had been, drugged and unconscious, incapable of using his abilities to defend himself…and as resilient as his physical body was, even he was made of vulnerable matter, of fragile flesh and breakable bone. It was not possible for him to have fled or survived this assault…and in evidence of that cruel, merciless truth, the empty place within her chest pulsed sharply, making her hunch over in anguish. Mewtwo…her Mewtwo…wasgone. Their bond, the metaphysical cord which had been palpable until seconds before the attack, now lay in tatters, no longer binding her to anything. From somewhere beyond the smothering darkness surrounding her, she realized she was weeping, calling his name, begging God to make his death void, begging for her partner to be alive in some distant region of the world. Yet truth overwhelmed her delusions, and beneath her inhuman howling memories of him surfaced: of his amethyst eyes gazing down into hers as he moved above her, filling her body with his…of the feel of his arms embracing her, firm and warm…of the scent of his fur in her nostrils as she buried herself against him…of the sound of his voice, filled with passion as he murmured her name…of the taste of his mouth on her lips, faintly sweet….

Yet now her mate was gone and dead, and her own will to livewas consequently foiled by his demise. Vaguely, she realized that soon she might possess the chance to join him in a fiery grave, for the scouting helicopter that had fired the lethal missile would return with the main force shortly. When they did it would be her turn to die, and in dying, she would follow Mewtwo into the abyss. All she needed to do was remain here, in the ashes of her love, and wait for them to arrive and send her after him…she might even thank them for the kindness. For what point was there in living in a world in which he no longer existed, in one in which her final possession – her connection with him – had been stolen from her…?

And yet something within her, so minisculeit was barely noticeable, like a kernel floating in a black ocean, was pleading for her to run...to live.

Staring into the ashes, she questioned that plea.Why? What's the point? He's gone…he's gone, and I enabled his destruction. I would rather die than continue to struggle now…and there's no reason to prolong the wait. I can't endure this world anymore…why bother fighting when there's nothing left to protect?

Regardless of her thoughts, that shard of her persisted in its cry:Run, run…live!

THERE'S NO POINT!Her soul screamed back…but the voice did not fall silent.

It retorted that her lover would not have wanted her to give up, and to that Cassandra laughed bitterly. Where could she go that Team Rocket could not find? Who could she go to that would not condemn her as a traitor or a murderer? Whether she remained here or ran, there was nothing in the universe she would gain by either route; the peace of oblivion would just arrive sooner if she did the former, and she would only suffer longer if she did the latter. What did continuing to survive matter when agony would prove her sole reward? And why, realizing those cruel realities, did she rise from the ashes and turn her back on the fire, as if honestly contemplating moving forward?

Run…run…RUN!

And then Cassandra Bracken did what she regarded as unthinkable:

She ran for her life.

---

…Nearly a thousand miles away, a wounded being thrashed within a cluster of thorny bushes, the barbed branches tearing into its burned flesh like razor blades. Its fur had been singed to the skin, its dark blood stained the snow beneath it, and it howled to the morose sky of the torment it experienced. Floating above it amongst the barren treetops, his pink form contrasting the grey-blue of the winter firmament, an elderly pokémon gazed down at the suffering creature with saddened eyes. It might be better if the being had died in the attack it had endured, but no…it had escaped its foes and survived against the odds. The watcher winced upon hearing its cries, upon seeing the physical and emotional anguish within its deadened, unfocused eyes. As it struggled to rise, it called out a single word, formed of three syllables, in a desperate, searching call. As the old one floated down to the child nearly dead from a combination of heat and chemicals and shock, he detected a trace aroma upon the younger creature, there beneath the sour stink of copper and smoke: it had recently been with a female – the Legendary could smell the tell-tale stench of the act, and understood now that the name it spoke belonged to its mate…the mate he never thought the demon would have taken for itself….

As the being began to collapse into the snow, the ancient feline grasped it within his telekinesis and teleported them far from the frozen land to a place in which he could tend to the injured one. At random, the recent memories of the other flickered in his mind as he sought to divine what had led to its sudden ruin, and they revealed in full what it had endured and done. As he pieced together the events of days just past, Mew's face contorted frightfully, and he cursed the child in his own language: "Damn you, brother…what have you done, you stupid, foolish boy?"

The creature did not respond…its thoughts were elsewhere, circling around the female: the young keeper of its secret heart.

As its elder began to move it into the mossy shelter, it screamed once more in the deepest throes of anguish, its fierce voice tearing through the warmer air like a frozen blade into yielding flesh: it yelled for the bird of peace. Displaying mingled mercy and kindness, the Legendary increased the air pressure around the wounded one suddenly, effectively knocking it unconscious. He knew well that no serenity would come to it now, and perhaps not for some time to come. It would be months before his ward regained the full use of its elemental abilities and recovered enough health to travel…and it would be even longer before it found what it was seeking in the ever-shifting world.

It would take five years, in fact. It would take half a decade for it to find its mate once more…and when it did, every detail of their lives would have changed.

Every detail…except for one….

---

Author's Note:…And here we say farewell to the romance genre! What we have later is not so muchromanceas two people honestly trying to cope in a relationship which is rife with misunderstandings and actual arguments…you know, a bit of realistic angst rather than the cotton candy mush that pervades this chapter. Anyhow, this entry experienced a few changes towards the end. For one thing, the last scene I tacked on: I wrote it just to clarify to everyone that no, I did not just kill off Mewtwo. None of you would read this if it was just about Cassandra…I wouldn't, frankly, even though she's my character. Fun as she is, I need my feline philosopher to amuse my muse. Other changes are thanks to the logical mind of Kayasuri-N, who informed me, after I asked her, that no, a handgun cannot be used to shoot the pilots of a helicopter and, in doing so, take that vehicle down. So, some of Cassandra's awesome factor was sacrificed for common sense. Damn...I wanted to pull a Die Hard stunt, but I'm not so lucky.

Oh well, we get to focus on Cassandra's character for the majority of the next three chapters. I fear I'm going to lose a bunch of my readers by doing this little bridge (since, again, you're not here for her, are you?), but it can't be helped. I'll try my best to slip in bits of Mewtwo, Amber, and Team Rocket to add some spice. At any rate, be forewarned I'm going to be turning some declarations in this story on their heads now that we're going into part two. I assure you, you'll like the new characters I'm adding if you stick around. I know I adore them (smiles).

Edit, 12-29-08:After having a few plot holes pointed out to me by Mai-danishgirl, I rethought this chapter and decided to make an addition: having Mewtwo remove the tracking device from Cassandra's choker and teleporting it away. This addition can be found after the love scene if you wish to locate it. I stuck it in mostly because I realized that Cassandra would not be able to escape the mountains if the device was still in place, and this helps smooth out events in the next chapter. As well, I tweaked the food portion to clear up the confusion there. I hope this helps. For the record, let this show everyone that I'm willing to redo aspects of the story if you guys find glaringly obvious flaws. I'm all for constructive criticism, provided it doesn't undermine the fic in total.

Well, happy holidays everyone! See ya' in the next chapter.

Sincerely,

WiseAbsol