03

Disclaimers still apply.

Major thanks to Kerrik Wolf for proof-reading and offering spelling and grammar abuse corrections for this chapter. All corrections are his, all mistakes are still mine.

[Chapter 3]

Micah stared morosely up at the pre-dawn sky, the air filled with that certain, sharp chill that only the hour right before the sun rose could really have. He had woken up and been unable to get back to sleep, so had given the idea up for lost and quietly nursed the embers of the night's previous fire back to life, using the small, cheery fire to ward off the chill both physical and mental. Worse, he'd woken up with a headache, and he was trying to work that off, as well.

That was how Nunnally found him. The Armsmistress calmly snuggled up behind him and manifesting her wings to give them both some added warmth. Micah was pathetically grateful for the physical contact as he closed his eyes and unexpectedly worked back tears.

"Master?"

Micah took a deep, shuddery breath, let it slowly out. "Sorry. It's just... I think I picked this morning to have everything crash down on me."

Nunnally said nothing, and simply hugged him tighter.

After a moment to collect his thoughts, he went on. "I think... I don't know. I think up until this point I had it somehow, in my brain, that I'd be able to quickly sort all this out. That I'd be able to wrap everything up nice and neatly into one short adventure and then I'd be on my way home." Pause. "I don't really know how that idea got stuck in my brain, honestly. I -hated- stories like that. Wizard of Oz, the Labyrinth, the endings always came across as a sort of backhanded curse, to be thrown from a world of magical wonder into the drab, mundane world. And here I was, making the same assumption."

Nunnally snuggled her head next to his, her hair tickling his neck. "What changed your mind?"

"Back in my home world," Micah went on softly, "Winter break should almost be over. That means that college will be starting up soon. And if I'm not there to take the classes I'm signed up for, and no one thinks to un-register me, my grants will drop and my academic life will be ruined." Silence. "Four years of self-motivated effort, all down the drain. I was close. So very close. All the money I earned and put into it, all gone, like dust in the wind. So even if I -do- go back, what good would it do me? I'd be returning in shame and as a failure. Realistically, I understand otherwise. Emotionally, however..."

Nunnally, for her part, said nothing, simply holding him tightly.

Apparently, 'nothing' was the right thing to say.

Micah's expression firmed. "Alright. Introspective moment is over. Go get Euphy and Cornelia up. If I have to suffer through morning, they do, too."

Breakfast was a mix of wheat bagels, peanut butter, caribou jerky and hot chocolate mix in boiling water. Not exactly high-class, but they were still effectively poor until the funds for the sold pokegirls filtered in. Micah had quick-sold them to the government, which effectively meant they were bought at the lowest price feasible, as opposed to going to auction and being bought-up individually. Unfortunately, this meant that he was on the Capital League's payroll, and they liked to horde their money till the last second.

As Micah stirred the cocoa powder into his mug, he absently thought aloud, "Maybe I've been going at this the wrong way." He frowned, and nodded slowly, sipping at his hot drink. "Right. I fell into the trap of thinking like a tamer with a dream. Or, for that matter, like a writer with a plot." He set his mug aside, took his glasses off and rubbed at his face. "I can't think linearly, I need to think laterally or I'm never going to get through this." He considered things for a moment and then nodded. "Okay. Euphemia, I need you to start researching for the location of all post-second puberty ClowMystics and StarMystics. Check the breeding Ranches. They'd likely have surplus they can't get rid off. Hell, check them all." He shook his head slowly. "I doesn't really matter what stage of development she's at. I just need her magics, not to worry if she's going to get pregnant if I fuck her." Micah considered the notion absently. "I wonder what happens to pokegirls like that whom hit their second puberty? What do they do, just retire? Kept by the Ranches and hope they're eventually sold...? Get used as Ranch staff? Go to bars and hope they find a nice guy to marry? What?"

Micah's harem shared a look between them. It was Cornelia whom answered the rhetorical question. "All of the above," she noted. "Pokegirls past their second puberty don't really have a set role outside of Tamers deciding to settle with them. If they don't have a Tamer..."

"I heard a few commit suicide," Nunnally quietly pointed out. "Some of the less desirable ones."

"And pokegirls can't marry, anyways," Euphy noted. "Not even in the Capital League."

Micah canted his head as he glanced heavenwards. "Huh. I suppose, theoretically, that couldn't stop me if I found the right priest. That would make a great opening offer, I imagine. 'Help me find a way home and I'll take you as a lawfully wedded wife.'" He shook his head.

Euphy regarded Micah with a look of despair. "We're going to have to render you comatose during Sadie Poken's Celebration."

Micah made a sound akin to 'splurf!' as he choked on his hot cocoa, spitting the mouthful back into the mug. "Oh, no!"

Nunnally smiled faintly. "As a Capital League tamer, you're lawfully required to attend."

"Oh, bloody -hell-." Micah quietly facepalmed. "I'm gonna die."

Cornelia smiled and asked in half-jest, "Perhaps you should reconsider the idea of working for Sanctuary...?"

"NO. I'll simply have to hobble around on a cane and ask myself 'What would Gregory House do?' for a week's time whenever a pokegirl comes up near me. Oh, cripes. Why did I pick the -Capital League- of all places to hide out and become a Tamer? Wait, I know - because it was a good idea at the time."

Micah sighed, eyed his mug of hot chocolate, and swallowed a large mouthful before moving on. "Beyond that, if Euphemia's estimation is correct, then I need to find someone willing to tutor me in magics. Go figure, all the magical schools I know about are damn well off-limits. Times like this I almost - -almost- wish I had pushed for my stories to be canon." He shook his head in disgust. "I could just walk up to Grand Marshall Zelretch and ask him to teach me magic, and you know what? He'd do it! Because he's -insane- and likes to spread it around."

"So you won't just need a CardCaptor evolution. You'll need a powerful magic-type that can teach you magic, as well, and that means a specially taught Sorceress, Archmage, Megami, or Hild," Nunnally pointed out.

Micah rolled his eyes. "A Hild. I might as well walk up to Hild herself and ask if I'd like to be part of her private little army as a special pet." His harem's clueless look reminded him of what exactly he was saying and what they didn't know. "Ah. Right. The individual 'Hild' is different from the breed 'Hild'. The former created the latter, if I recall, and Hild is the Legendary Pokegirl of magic. You aren't supposed to know that, by the way, so don't go spouting it off. A Megami," he went on. "Hmm. If she was the right personality, I wouldn't mind. I never did agree much with Kerrik on their interpretation, really."

Euphemia shivered faintly at her Master's blithe spouting of information others would kill for, but the name piqued her curiosity as it twigged a memory. "Kerrik...? Wasn't he one of your fellow Authors?"

Micah nodded, not looking at her. "Oh, yes. Easily one of the most prolific, and a damn good one, in my opinion. His stories were always fun to read."

Cornelia frowned. "But you didn't agree with him...?"

Micah shook his head. "Not on the Megami stuff. I mean, we never came to verbal blows on the matter. Hell, I never even brought it up. Wasn't important. But a lot of his stories had Megami's that were of the alignment 'I Know What's Best For You' Good which typically translated them into doing some stupid stuff. But anyways, that's neither here nor there." He frowned thoughtfully. "You know, I can't help but think that none of us really did have any power, but that the Goth's spell, or mechanism, or whatever, actually -gave- us some of that power." He shook his head. "In which case they really did shoot themselves in the foot. Because if their plans centered on getting us all to agree with one another, man, would they have been in for a shock."

Euphemia smiled weakly. "'I am the logos and the omega'?"

"As I don't have the urge to emulate a burning bush, I think we're all still safe."

Euphemia giggled.

"Anyways. Magic." Micah shook his head slowly. "Man. Someone's laughing at me."

Nunnally canted her head, white hair falling over her shoulder. "Why?"

"Because -" Micah stopped, as if realizing what he was about to say. "Pay close attention to what I'm trying to communicate, mind. Magic, as a system to work with, has always given me fits. Both in games such as role playing that involved very structured magic systems, and writing, as well. In the games, because I always regarded some of the arbitrary limits as, quite frankly, stupid, and because while writing magic there -was- no limitations. I could read about it and enjoy it, but dealing with it myself? Always a problem. And here my salvation may center of actually learning to use it." Micah frowned. "Now I know how the character Kerrik Wolf feels like whenever he said the universe is out to give him. And that presents another scary
thought."

Euphemia couldn't help but get the feeling Micah was simply rambling on at his own pace and she was trying futily to hang on and follow. Regardless, she marshalled herself and asked politely, "What's scary?"

"Kerrik, the author, and some of his band of characters. Did he create them? Does it really matter?" Micah shook his head. "And the thought of some of -my- characters showing up. Including one whom made the character Kerrik Wolf look open, gregarious, friendly, outgoing, and personable. And who's 'help' certainly wouldn't include giving me a way home."

"You created me," Euphemia noted softly. "You should be prepared for anything."

Micah stared at her.

The redheaded genius looked back at him curiously. "It's true, is it not?"

"It would be foolish of me to assume that it -is- true," he pointed out. "And it would be foolish of you to do similar." Something occurred to him, and he grinned at Euphemia. "You know what the difference between geniuses and normal people?"

Euphemia blinked and the odd non sequitor. "What?"

"Geniuses do -research-." Micah finished off his chocolate in one go. "Which is what we'll be doing this evening. But first, let's go de-populate the local feral population, shall we?"

-[***]-

Micah regarded Nunnally through a tear-leaking, sweat-soaked gaze, his arms and legs that watery rubberness that came with brutal and uncaring abuse that pushed the body to it's limits.

He felt -awful-, his entire body a burn of muscle ache. He hadn't even been doing anything as sophisticated as kata; just repetitious form, stance, and swing, done over and over and over again, his grip on the cheap practice blade reddened and raw. He'd even had to work through a sickening bout of nausea, that thick urge to vomit as his body tried to account for the flood of oxygen and rush of blood in new and inventive ways.

Torture. Agonizing torture.

And he'd -asked- for this.

He'd wanted to do this for an hour. He only managed 35 minutes before his body gave up and Nunnally called it quits. Micah understood why - pushing himself past limits would take a while. He had other things to do beyond this - capturing ferals and taming, after all, took alot of energy, and he just couldn't waste it all on conditioning.

Micah set the blade aside, running a shaking hand through sweat-sodden hair. He was wearing next to nothing, just a pair of tattered, well-used shorts he'd gotten cheap and his boots. Less to clean.

"Master?" Nunnally looked at him curiously with her closed-eyed gaze as he began to gingerly move.

"I'm going to walk for a while. Keep my body moving and keep my muscles from locking up."

Nunnally's expression was one of quiet surprise. "Wise. You've done this before?"

Micah gave a weak grin as he tried to get as much salt-sweat out of his eyes as he could, not doing much beyond making the feeling worse. "Kind of. I had... No, I -have- a number of interesting friends. I learned a lot from them." Didn't matter how long it took to get back. He had to focus on the idea that he -would- eventually get there. He shook his head like a dog, sweat flying from his hair before he smoothed it back and began walking, the Armsmistress following at his side.

When they returned to camp, Euphemia got their attention, the G-splice looking exhausted but triumphant. "Here." Despite her haggard look, the holographic screen was still bright and clear as it flicked into Micah's view. He looked over the information, absorbing it at a quick glance, and smiled, partly in delight, partly in relief. "A StarMystic." He then frowned, as he assimilated the rest of the data. "What is she doing at the University of British Columbia?"

Euphemia rolled her eyes. "-Legally-, she's just a pokegirl assistant in the Faculty of Science. Boring scut work. Going through papers for research so so-called 'professors' can get the 'real' work done." The redheaded G-splice grinned. "-Unofficially- she's writing half of their bleeding edge research papers in regards to theoretical magical applications in regards to high-energy physics research."

Micah looked curiously at her. "How do you know all that? I can't imagine any of that would be public knowledge." Suspicion colored his gaze. "You hacked into the University's system, didn't you?"

Euphemia flicked a nervous glance elsewhere, fingers errantly twirling in an orbit in front of her. "Well... maybe I did... and the email server, and her work computer, and her home computer, and the computers of all of her colleagues, and - they were just so -easy-, so I took a peek to get a good overall picture of her..."

"I get the idea," Micah's smile was wry. "Still, what makes you think she'd want to have anything to do with me?"

She nudged him. "Read."

Micah did. And blinked at a particular bit of information. "She's listed as being owned by the University itself? How did that happen?"

Euphemia shrugged, making an interesting show with way her breasts moved. "I don't know. You'll have to ask her."

"Interesting that businesses can legally own pokegirls, like people can," Micah mused aloud. "The implications... huh. With a bit of legal shenanigans... granted, a Judge might... huh, I wonder if..." Micah paused, shook his head. "Where was I? Right, the StarMystic." He checked her name. "Anya." He couldn't help but hold a sliver of doubt at the entire plan, even if he had come up with it. "Do you honestly think she'd consider joining my harem, just because I walked up to her and asked nicely?"

Cornelia, Nunnally, and Euphemia all shared a glance, then turned back to Micah, and chorused, "Yes."

"Your confidence in me is -staggering-," Micah couldn't help but smile.

Euphemia smiled. "If nothing else, you can say the magic words that are guaranteed to make any pokegirl spread her legs for you."

Micah quirked an eyebrow. "What are they?"

"'I need you'," the G-splice replied with a grin.

Micah opened his mouth to reply, paused to consider, and then simply said, "Huh."

"Will we be traveling to Vancouver next, then?" Cornelia asked.

Micah absently put his arms over his head and stretches, looking surprised whenever Euphemia fell against him and nuzzled a patch of salty skin on his shoulder. "Give it a few days till the wondrous Capital League decides to finally pay out the capture fees for all those pokegirls we gave them, never mind the auctions I've got going." He gave a shrug. "If I'm going to ask a girl to marry me, I'd rather not do so looking completely destitute."

"Wise," Nunnally nodded.

"I try," was Micah's reply.

-[***]-

Travel to Vancouver was accomplished via Demon-Goddess flight and following rail tracks. This was actually quicker than what traveling by rail could have managed - and cheaper, as well, which was the real reason why Micah picked it, above and beyond giving Cornelia a chance to manage some endurance runs as well as continue to get him used to the idea of flying at low altitudes at relatively high speeds.

When the arrived, the first thing done was rest, sleep, eat, and research, not in that order. Micah also broke with some of his horded funds to purchase a single outfit that actually looked feasibly well-put together, a sort of 'professional casual' look that he hoped wouldn't be too out of place of a college campus. Once garbed, all that was left was to execute his audacious, 'it's so crazy it just might work' plan to net him a StarMystic pokegirl.

Micah eyed the mass of people as he stepped out of the pharmacy. Vancouver was a bit of a shock due to the amount of people; easily the most he'd seen ever since arriving in the pokegirl world. He cracked open his purchase and dry-swallowed three pills of aspirin, wanting to be at his best whenever he first talked to Anya.

Cornelia regarded him with an edge of worry in her gaze. "Are you alright, Master?"

Micah shook his head. "I'll be fine. It's just a headache. I figure it's a combination of dry air, altitude changes, and me not being used to the difference in the environs."

The Demon-Goddess frowned. "Still, if you need to, we should get Euphemia to heal you."

Micah smiled as he put away the small pill bottle. "I'm not going to go running to Euphy every time I get a twinge of pain."

"Hey, YOU!" Micah looked down to see a Tamer running toward him with a Charizard following him. "I challenge you for the Goth!"

Cornelia's scowl was impressive as she calmly reached up and raised the medical eyepatch, showing the scars over her bad eye. The sight literally made the Tamer skid to a halt in mid-run.

"Jesus fucking wept!" He was already turning to head away at a fast walk. "Never mind, you sick fuck!"

Micah gave a snort of amusement as he could hear the tamer rant on about sick tamers with cripple fetishes. He also pulled Cornelia close, giving the Demon-Goddess a deep kiss that made her lean into him, standing on the tips of her toes.

"Good girl," Micah stated, making her blush as he grinned. "Let's head over to the college before we tempt fate with anything else happening."

Micah was glad that the aspirin had kicked in by the time he and Cornelia found the Faculty of Science on the University's grounds. Doing the logical thing and actually asking the Ingenue receptionist lead to a bit of confusion, as the University was easily large enough that the Ingenue didn't know everyone, and pokegirl assistants had neither offices nor entries. Micah hadn't known about the lack of entries part - he had known that they didn't have offices. In fact, he knew exactly where Anya's desk was via Euphemia's spywork, but didn't want to look that out of place by simply walking in without asking for directions.

Unfortunately, Micah quickly regretted his decision. Because the Ingenue inquired as to why he was looking for her in specific; and Micah, in a mixture of bald-faced audacity and not really thinking that perhaps he should obfuscate abit, replied calmly, "Because she's a StarMystic and I'm going to ask her to marry me."

The Ingenue, a pretty thing with short blonde hair, physically rocked back as if he had hit her, then quickly recovered and grinned. "Then she might just be a -very- lucky girl." She handed him a slip of paper where Anya's desk should be located. "Good luck."

"Thank you."

When they had made enough distance that Cornelia was certain they couldn't have been heard, she leaned in close to Micah and murmured, "I don't think you should have mentioned that."

Micah looked at her, honestly confused. "Why not?"

"Because in about five seconds that gossip is going to be across campus via pokegirl express."

Micah stared at her until her words finally impacted upon his brain, then visibly winced and slapped his forehead. "D'oh!"

Cornelia nodded back as they entered a stairwell and headed down. "Let's find your next conquest and be done with this place."

Micah gave her an odd look at the word 'conquest', but nodded.

Pokegirl assistants got desks. They didn't get much else. Large rooms in the basement areas had been renovated to accommodate the rows of desks that pokegirls were assigned too. It was as much a compromise as anything, as orders typically had to be conveyed through emails and phone calls, but no one had successfully argued redesigned professor offices so they had an antechamber for their pokegirl assistant to work in - mostly argued by those who -didn't- have the assistants.

Humans, it could be argued, were in many ways a political creature.

Micah caught sight of the pokegirl in question, having seen a picture of her previous, and paused in mid-step. "Wow," he muttered under his breath before he had a chance to stop himself. She looked... well, gorgeous, in that way Pokegirls seemed all accomplish all too easily, with lots of bright-gold hair collected together with a large black bow.

Cornelia smiled, and whispered at his side, "She is rather cute."

Micah nodded, trying to ignore the resurgence of nervousness that threatened to make him choke on the effort. Ignoring both it and the sudden, keening edge of doubt that yelled 'This'll never work!' in his brain, he released Cornelia's arm and strode up to the StarMystic, gently touching the corner of her desk to get her attention. "Anya?"

Golden eyes looked up at him; he caught a hint of nervousness that was replaced with honest curiosity when she took him in. He couldn't see the trademark star-mark on her forehead, which he admitted a modicum of confusion over, as his internal dialouge told him that she was, in fact, an actual StarMystic. She blinked. "Ah, yes?"

Micah smiled, and took her hand before she had a chance to pull it away, shaking it firmly yet gently. "Good afternoon. I'm Micah Hakubi." He grinned and guestured to the Demon-Goddess. "This is Cornelia."

Anya nodded, slowly, hesistantly. "Yes sir. Do you need something...?"

There was no place to sit down, so Micah had to contend with standing. "Actually, I'm here to ask you to marry me."

Silence, as the words percolated through her brain, shock evident on her face. "What!?"

Micah grinned, a small chuckle of delight escaping past his lips as he felt his nervousness melt away. "Well, I felt it best to open up discussions with my highest offer, and work my way down if it didn't appeal to you. If at all possible, I would like you to join my harem."

"Is... is this a joke?" Startlement gave way to confusion. "Why would you want me to join your harem - to -marry- you? Pokegirls can't marry!"

"I need you." Micah honestly hadn't expected to get a chance to use that line, and he admitted a modicum of curiosity as to how the reaction would be. He was rather surprised at the bright blush that spread across Anya's face.

"Um... wh- wha?" Anya's voice cracked as she instinctively pushed away from the desk, her chair rolling back and taking her with it.

Micah smiled. "I. Need. You. Your skills, your power, and your knowledge. I understand them to be supreme."

Anya swallowed and weakly replied, "You just can't come up to a pokegirl and ask her to, to m-, to join your harem..."

"Why not?" Micah looked back at her, honestly curious. "Would you prefer flowers...? Chocolates? I'd ask if you're hungry and would like lunch, but it's past that and I'm not sure if you ate. I'd ask if you had an Owner, but it's your decision, I think, not his."

Anya was staring up at him as if he was some alien -thing-, then her resolve firmed. "Why?"

"Ah," Micah replied. "That's a much more interesting question. And an explanation that's a bit more involved, and slightly unbelievable, lacking immediate proof. It's also slightly sensitive, and not something I'd want to elaborate here." He glanced around curiously. "Do you know if the stairwell has roof access?"

Anya blinked, and nodded. "It does."

"Would you mind following me up there, so I could elaborate on the 'why'...?" Reading her expression, Micah went on, "If you like, I can send Cornelia back to my hotel room."

Cornelia looked like he had gone insane. "Master!"

"Trust has to extend both ways, Cornelia," Micah replied with a smile. He looked curiously at Anya. "Well?"

"You could be hiding an UltraBall," she said, though she was standing up from her chair, her cheeks still lightly flushed.

Micah smiled. "But I'm not."

Anya looked as if she wanted to argue the point, then relented and headed out of the office space, toward the stairwell. Micah sent Cornelia back to the hotel room - he still had his PDA and he could use it to call her once the discussion was over with.

Neither he nor Anya said anything as they ascended the stairs, arriving at the roof door and going through without any issue, as it had neither fire alarms nor any special locks Micah could see.

Anya turned back to him, and caught Micah staring at her hair; there was a lot of it. She blushed as she brushed an errant strand behind one ear. "What?"

Micah smiled, and could feel the heat on his own cheeks. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be staring, but your hair is beautiful."

Anya blushed harder. "Thank you." She took a deep breath. "Alright, then. You said you were going to explain why?"

Micah told her. Everything. Where he came from, about the S-Goths, how he escaped, and why he was so interested in her magics.

Anya stared at him, her earlier embarrassment gone. "Are you insane?"

Micah gave a snort. "That would be the easiest answer, wouldn't it?" He tentatively leaned against a piece of equipment, fully when it proved solid enough to support his weight.

"Do you honestly expect me to believe any of this?" If anything, the StarMystic looked angry, the embarrassment from earlier giving rise to the thought that this was all one elaborate, sick joke at her expense.

Micah sighed. "That's the problem. You have no reason -to- believe it, and I have no easy and safe way of proving all that I said was true. 'Extraordinary claims extraordinary evidence', and as I have none of the evidence, you have no reason to trust me. In addition, all the information I have access too that could feasibly -prove- whatI'm saying is true, you have no way of... fact... ch..." Micah's voice trailed off, as suddenly, like a sharp blow from nowhere, he -knew- what he could say that could prove what he was saying, beyond a doubt.

"I'm sorry," Anya regarded him with a sad expression for a brief moment before a mask of professionalism slide down like a door being closed. "But I do need to get back to work - "

"You evolved from a CardCaptor, right?" Micah replied before she could shut him out further.

Anya blinked. "I did, yes."

"Then you underwent the Final Judgment, correct?"

Anya blinked again, confusion writ large on her face, not sure where he was going with this. "I did."

Micah smile was one of pure triumph. "And if I tell you what occurred during the Final Judgment, will you believe me?"

Anya shook her head sadly. "We never talk about it. Not even amongst ourselves. There's no feasible way you could possibly know."

Micah told her.

Anya stared at him, eyes wide, then fainted.

"Oh shi-!" Micah could only move fast enough to keep her head from hitting the roof-tops hard gravel. After a moment of realizing she wasn't going to wake up immediately, he began working to get them both a bit more comfortable. "I captured a StarMystic!" he muttered to himself, then began laughing. "Somehow, I don't think this is what the forums had in mind when they complained about a Tamer defeating a pokegirl by himself!"

Micah waited patiently, and several minutes later he was rewarded with Anya emitting a soft groan.

Micah glanced down, waiting until the StarMystic's eyes fluttered open before asking, "How do you feel?"

"Ah...?" Anya looked up at him in confusion. "I had... a dream, but... no, you told me...?" Her eyes opened wide in shock as her entire body jerked. "You told me! You told me -exactly- what happened! How!? That's not possible!"

Micah smiled. "Unless everything I told you was true."

Her hands flew to her mouth as she gaped in shock. "I'm so sorry!"

Micah laughed. "Don't be! It's like I said - it's an unbelievable story and there's really no way you could be expected -to- believe it." He grinned. "As nice as this is, feel up to standing? Laying on that gravel can't be comfortable."

Anya nodded, and Micah helped her stand back up, holding her as she brushed debris off of her clothing, his grip firming on a few occasions when she wobbled. "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome." Micah escorted her to the roof door, opening it for her as they both came to the unspoken decision to head back. "So, did you make a decision?"

Anya paused in mid-step, then carefully resumed her descent. "I did."

Micah grinned. "And?"

"No."

Micah's expression faltered, his grin crumbling like an old wall finally giving up to age and wear. "...ah."

"I'm sorry," she looked up at him, the height disparity caused by her being a few steps ahead of him. "I'm... happy, here. I have respect, of a sorts, and I'm even writing papers that others read and pay attention too." She smiled weakly. "You understand, right?"

Micah shook his head. "You don't have to apologize for anything, Anya. In the end, it's your life, and you're the person whom you have to answer to at the end of the day the question, 'Am I happy, or am I not?' I don't have the right to take that away from you, biological imperatives or no."

Anya regarded him, his response the last thing she could have imagined saying. Jerkily, she nodded. "That's right."

They made the rest of the descent in silence beyond the sound of their footfalls. At ground floor, they stopped.

"Ah, I guess I should be going," Micah shrugged faintly, awkwardly, then seemed to marshal himself and offer his hand to Anya with a smile. "I'm sorry for bothering you at work, but..."

"It's okay," Anya smiled in return, and after a moment, took the hand and shook it. "Well..."

Micah smiled again, giving a half-wave over his shoulder. "Bye."

Anya waved back as he went through the door, then turned and continued on down the stairs.

Micah's neutral albeit pleasant expression held up until the point that he exited the Science Building. Then it fell as he gave a quiet sigh, rubbing at his forehead and murmured, "Shit."

When Anya returned to her desk, she found an unexpected gathering, a number of the G-Poins and Ingenues having surrounded her desk. One she recognized turned to her and grinned as if she had just won the lottery. "Did he -really- come here?"

Anya stopped in mid-step and blinked in confusion. "Did -who- come here?"

"That guy who was gonna ask you to -marry- him!" another exclaimed.

"He was a fat slob, right?" another got in before Anya could reply.

"No way! I heard he was handsome, and rich!"

A third leered at Anya. "It was your brother, right? 'Keeping it in the family's -always- best, I hear!"

"I... turned him down," Anya replied dumbly, a little stunned, and that pronouncement sent up a cry from the group, half of cheers, half of dismay.

"Could you have -at least- passed him along to me?"

"See! Fat and ugly! Told you!"

"Noooooo!"

Anya's friend grinned at her. "Well, it's not what -I- would have done... say, it's getting about the time that we need to satisfy the need, and so we were going to go out tonight to -that- bar. You want to come along with us?"

Anya stared at her friend for a very, very long moment, the sound of chatter sluicing over her like water on a duck's back.

She hit the door at a head-on run, taking the stairs two at a time, knocking aside people as she made a hell-mad rush through the halls.

-[***]-

Micah sighed faintly. He hadn't gotten very far from the science building, half at a loss of what next to -do-, the idea of returning back to the hotel leaving a sour taste in the back of his mouth. Realistically, it was time to pick it up and head on to the next
target, but there was that niggling fear that he'd shot off his best and it hadn't been enough.

He rubbed at his face, giving his head a firm shake as he ignored the normal flow of students and faculty around him. "Screw it," he muttered. "Time to man up and move on to plan B. And if -that- doesn't work, plan C. And if I get to Z, then I'll start doubling letters up until I find a plan that -does- work, even if I have to buy the pokegirl myself!"

A loud BANG almost made him jump, as if someone had just giving their best effort to brutally murder a door. He half-turned, wondering just what the hell had happened, to catch sight of a certain blonde-haired pokegirl running at him in a mad-dash. She tackled him at the right angle to send them both cartwheeling into the grass as opposed to hard-concrete, which Micah was -very- thankful for once he got his breath back.

"YES! Yes, I'll go with you! Please don't be angry at me, I was just so scared!"

"Um... okay...?"

That was apparently the right thing to say, as Anya kissed him deeply and then began working on trying somehow to crawl inside his clothing without removing them first.

A shadow hovered into view. Micah glanced up to find Cornelia hovering near them, Key-Staff at ready, with a put-upon look on her face. "Master, as she's trying to molest you as opposed to kill you, things went well?"

"I... think so, yeah." Micah tried to sit up, found that Anya wasn't going to let him, and just hugged her in return when he realized that she was shivering. He looked curiously back up at Cornelia. "I thought I told you to return to the hotel?"

Cornelia gave him a bland look in reply. "Yes, Master, you did. When you mentioned 'trust', you never said she had to trust -me-."

Micah gave her a look.

Cornelia fidgeted. "Yes, Master, I know I was a bad girl, and I'll accept your punishment later."

Micah shook his head. "I can't really fault your actions, so we'll consider the order retroactively approved. Anya..." Micah got a good look at the StarMystic, and realized she was crying. "Anya, what's wrong?"

Anya sniffled. "Sorry, it's just... it's just been..."

Micah glanced up at the crowd they'd gathered. "I think we should have this discussion somewhere private, don't you?"

Anya nodded weakly. "M'kay." Between Micah and Cornelia, they managed to get Anya back on her feet. Cornelia teleported out to retrieve Euphemia, and when Euphy and Cornelia both returned, they grabbed Micah and Anya respectively and teleported away.

-[***]-