CHERRY WINE

"In the New Year, may your hand always be stretched out in friendship, never in want."

—An Irish New Year's toast.

Half-buried in snow, with the windows on either side of its redwood door still strung up with Christmas lights, The Ninetales' Den wasn't one of the more noticeable pubs in Saffron City. To be fair to the bar, it did have a variety of pleasurable poisons to choose from, but its array of drinks was the only real perk it had. The music playing over the radio was garbled, while the television usually only displayed a flurry of static. Dusty gambling games were all that were provided for entertainment. The shelves that might have been used for coats and gloves were instead cluttered with souvenirs from passing trainers (who'd seemed to have little taste), while the timber of its walls reeked of tobacco smoke. Overall, the place was old-fashioned and forgettable.

Despite this, The Ninetales' Den was Sabrina's favorite spot in the city. With her long overcoat wrapped around her, she entered the pub and shivered at the change in temperature. The musty scent of the bar hit her nose the next moment, while the emptiness of the room hit her psychic senses. Only the bartender, who was adjusting the antenna of the television until the parade in Viridian City came into focus, was there. Flashes of light from the fireworks illuminated human and pokémon faces alike, and even from this distance, their excitement was palpable.

That loud giddiness was what Sabrina had come here to escape. Her parents were holding a celebration at the Gym, and she knew that her presence would only put a damper on their visitors' fun. They still believed that she was the gloomy person she had been in her teens, so it was probably for the best that she'd left early. She didn't like parties much anyway—all of the clashing thoughts and emotions usually gave her a migraine by the end of the evening.

So that left her alone—and lonely—tonight. But she had a plan: she would wash away her sorrow with a drink and then, with some luck, would find a handsome stranger to spend the night with. Maybe that wasn't the healthiest solution for her to turn to, but it worked better for her than the alternative. She hadn't had much luck in maintaining a serious relationship, in part due to her work schedule and in part due to her reputation. Those that knew who and what she was feared her for it, and those who didn't often didn't stay long enough to learn that she knew how to smile. She'd come to accept their rejection, but she wasn't willing to give up on physical intimacy entirely. Not when one-night stands were still an option.

Not that those were always easy to line up. Too many people knew her face, and as tempting as it might be for them to get into bed with a celebrity, many of them were afraid of having their brains fried towards the completion of the deed. Which was ridiculous—her psychic energies wouldn't touch anyone she was with, and she wasn't about to invade their minds, either. She didn't want to know what they were thinking about as they pounded into her.

All she wanted was someone's touch and warmth for a few hours—for someone to rest peacefully beside her after they were finished. She rarely had the opportunity, though, and not from a lack of trying. She tried to be friendly and pleasant to be around, and she knew that she was beautiful. It just seemed like she was cursed when it came to relationships.

Shoving her dreary thoughts aside, Sabrina undid the buttons of her coat and hung it on the back of her chair at the bar. Her mauve dress and her black leggings hugged her curves, while her silk shawl kept her bare shoulders from freezing. She took off her high heels, knowing that Tyler, the owner of The Ninetales' Den, wouldn't care. She'd been in his pub enough times that they were on friendly terms.

"I'll have a glass of Madam Jynx's Cherry Wine, if you have any," she told him.

He nodded and took a bottle down from one of the shelves. He pulled out the cork and poured her a large glass of the red wine. "Of course, 'Riny. I always keep some around for when you wander in. Since it's New Year's Eve, I'll give you the first glass on the house."

She smiled. "That pet name will ruin my reputation, Tyler. But thank you. I appreciate the gesture." She sipped at her drink, allowing its sweet taste to console her.

An hour later, another lonely outcast drifted into the bar. Mewtwo had his own reasons for feeling bitter around this time of year, the least of them being the icy weather. The only pleasure he took from the holiday season was in the decorations. He liked the flickering Christmas lights and the crystal stars in the pine trees. He liked the smells of peppermint and gingerbread in the air, and the beauty of the moonlit snow. The feelings of love and happiness permeating the cities, however, bothered him more than the incessant ringing of the charity bells. They reminded him that he was alone, having no family or mate of his own.

Usually this didn't bother him, but on nights like tonight, he longed to be close to someone. He wasn't looking for a commitment—he traveled too much to make a relationship work, even if his partner was willing to set the matter of his true form aside. Temporary liaisons served him better. He always tried to make that clear to his partners from the start, though some reacted to that better than others. For that reason, he tried not to stay in the same city for too long, and never slept with the same person twice.

This sometimes made finding a partner difficult for him, though, because Mewtwo was rather picky. Between his looks and his charisma, he didn't have trouble attracting women while in his human form (which Mew had taught him how to attain years earlier, so he could blend in). But he wanted someone who he could hold an intelligent conversation with, who wasn't afraid to debate with him, and who wasn't intimidated by his powers. Hoping he would find someone like that in The Ninetales' Den, he entered the shabby bar, drawn by the Christmas lights in its windows and by its somber ambience.

There were a dozen people sitting at the tables, some playing cards, while others were deep into their drinks. Shaking the snow from his cloak, he stepped over to the bar to get one for himself. He put a few seats between himself and the woman already there, in case she wanted the space, and got the bartender's attention.

"May I have a White Russian on the rocks?" he asked, his physical voice just as rich as his telepathic one.

The bartender nodded and mixed him his drink. As he poured and handed it to Mewtwo, he asked, "Will that be it?"

Mewtwo sipped it, smiled in approval at the taste, and said, "For now."

As he drank, the clone looked up at the television screen and watched the PokéFloats of the parade drifting down Main Street. As the people standing on the pikachu float laughed and threw candy to the cheering crowd, he wondered what it felt like to be so caught up in the excitement. He wasn't certain that he wanted to find out for himself, though.

A woman's voice brought him out of his musings. "That drink is practically a dessert, you know."

Sabrina didn't often initiate conversations with strangers, but the alcohol had made her more flexible on that point. Besides, she'd meant what she'd said—even with the vodka mixed into it, he was essentially drinking melted ice-cream.

For the first time, Mewtwo looked at the woman directly. She was gazing at him with keen red eyes. Her black hair reached to the middle of her back, and what skin she showed was nearly as pale as his own. Her hairstyle caught his attention more than her dress (though that brought out the color of her eyes nicely): her bangs were cut perfectly straight, while the rest of her hair—which covered her ears—had no layering to it at all. It looked utilitarian, but it also suited the sharp angles of her jawline and cheekbones.

Defiantly sipping his sugary drink, he asked, "And what would you suggest instead?"

Sabrina took the bottle in front of her and tipped some of her wine into his glass. No doubt it would taste foul now. "That ought to be more mature," she said lightly. "Try it. Maybe it will help you refine your tastes."

Mewtwo sniffed at the mixture and wrinkled his nose at the fruity smell. He wasn't about to turn down a challenge, though, so he downed the drink in one gulp. He nearly gagged at the flavor and wondered if his face had gone green from disgust. When he managed to respond, he croaked out, "Cherries? You must be trying to poison me."

Sabrina laughed. It was a heartening sound, and from his hunched pose, he looked up at her and watched how her eyes lit up with amusement. Though she had just persuaded him to toss a toxic substance down his throat, he had to admit that her spirit appealed to him—that and the way she was wearing that dress. He wondered where this conversation might lead. Was she looking for some company tonight? Straightening in his seat, he asked the bartender for another drink and hoped that she was.

Sabrina, who was as cautiously hopeful about her drinking partner as he was, told Tyler that she would pick up the newcomer's tab. After all, one needed an ample amount of money when teaching someone how to drink, and the man would be paying enough for it later with a headache and an upset stomach. She was not aware of the fact that Mewtwo had a higher tolerance for alcohol than most humans, of course—but even so, he appreciated the offer.

When he was halfway through his refill, Mewtwo asked her, "Why wine? It's New Year's Eve. Wouldn't champagne be more appropriate?"

"Champagne is for those who are celebrating. I'm not."

"And why aren't you?"

She swirled her drink in her glass. "It's difficult to celebrate when you're feeling lonely. Even my pokémon are spending their holidays with other people."

Mewtwo's thoughts caught on her having a pokémon team. His eyes narrowed. "You're a trainer?"

So he didn't have any idea who she was. Sabrina found that she liked that thought very much. It meant that she could continue to be herself around him. "It's my occupation, but I don't snatch pokémon up from the wild. I have my team and we take care of each other. We only battle when we're challenged by someone else. Right now, they're visiting some old friends in Lavender Town. They'll be returning in a day or two."

Sensing that she treated her pokémon with respect, at least, Mewtwo relaxed. He kept his aura hidden from her though, just in case. If she was a psychic, he didn't want her to realize what he was. He didn't realize that she was doing the same thing to conceal her own powers. So they continued to enjoy their drinks, unaware of each other's secrets. As his eyes traveled over her, Sabrina's gaze lingered on his fair hair and skin, and on the strong lines of his jaw and brow. The gray cloak he wore concealed most of his body, but he seemed to have a lean build.

"And what about you?" she asked him. "What do you do?"

He glanced at the clock in the bottom corner of the television screen. There were two minutes left until midnight. "I travel around the world and study people," he replied.

Sabrina tilted her head. "Like an anthropologist?" When he nodded, she asked, "Have you concluded anything about me yet?"

That he would like to take her somewhere private, but it was probably too soon to say that. "I think there is something about you that sets you apart from other people. I think that you're proud of it, even though it makes your social life difficult. I think that you'd rather be alone than at a party tonight, but I think that you still want to spend New Year's Eve with someone, despite that," he added, with a gesture to her dress. "Was that near the mark?"

"It was," she confirmed. She definitely wasn't going to tell him who she was now, if she could help it.

She looked up to watch the countdown to the New Year instead. When there were only thirty seconds left, the others in the bar joined the chant that was being recited throughout Kanto. The Crystal Sphere of Viridian fell and the anticipation of the viewers built up as the seconds ticked down: three, two, one...

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" the shouts rang through The Ninetales' Den.

When it did, Sabrina turned and kissed the stranger on the mouth—and suddenly, Mewtwo found that he didn't mind the taste of cherries, when it was combined with the taste of her lips and tongue. He drew her against him as the others hooted and whistled, and as fireworks lit up the sky outside. As Sabrina and Mewtwo pulled apart, they smiled at each other. The kiss had been as enjoyable as they'd hoped.

A few minutes later, they paid for their drinks and Mewtwo offered her his arm. Sabrina took it and they walked out into the night together. They passed by the plaza of the Silph Company, where people were dancing, and the Electric Railroad Station, where a live band was playing. Neither of them felt tired, and while they did not speak, they glanced at each other often and smiled when they were caught doing so.

Eventually, Sabrina brought him to her home, since he didn't offer to bring her to his. That was fine with her—she liked waking up in her own bed anyway. Mewtwo stared as she unlocked the gates to the Gym and her family manor, though. Only now was he beginning to suspect who she was. It would have been amusing, if it didn't also worry him. Would she sense the truth about what he was? What would she do if she did? Would she try to capture him? While he didn't mind the idea of roleplaying a servant-and-mistress type of relationship as foreplay, he didn't want to make it a reality. Even with his doubts, though, he followed her inside. If something went wrong, he could always erase her memories of him and teleport away. Though that seemed like a shame—she felt like someone he could grow fond of, if he had the chance.

Sabrina, oblivious to his dilemma, led him through the manor's dark and vacant hallways. Her parents' guests had already left, leaving confetti in their wake. Her parents, she sensed, were already asleep in their bedroom. That was good. She didn't want to be disturbed with the man she'd brought home. When they reached the stairs that led up to her room, she turned towards him and kissed him on the mouth again. While he seemed more reserved now, he still smirked at her and his eyes gleamed as she told him to go on ahead of her. Mewtwo did so, not minding following this order from a human, since it fit in perfectly with his own plans.

He found her bedroom easily. Her aura clung to the fibers of her queen-sized bed, to the grains of her wooden desk and nightstand, to the pictures on her walls and the books on her shelves. Strangely, there was a dusty white ball sitting in one of the corners of the room, though what the toy symbolized to her, he couldn't guess. He turned on the lamp, then went to sit on her bed and wait for her.

She was wearing a red night robe when she arrived. She was holding a lit candle in her hand as well, which she used to light the others on her desk. The scent of pomegranates soon flooded the room. She asked him if he minded, but he shook his head. When she turned the lamp back off, he enjoyed how the flickering glow from the candles streaked her dark hair with gold. She looked so soft now, and as he watched her, she shivered. Was that from excitement or the cold? Either way, he would do his best to warm her up.

Then, as if she was a belated Christmas present, Sabrina untied her robe and hung it on the bedpost. As he took in the sight of her, Mewtwo felt his blood rush downwards. She was lovely…but before he could reach for her and drew her down to him, she stepped forward and tugged at the folds of his cloak. "Your turn. Now that you've seen me, it's time for you to return the favor."

He obeyed, undoing the ties of his cloak, though there was another one underneath it that he had to remove, along with his actual clothes. When Sabrina saw that, she cocked an eyebrow at him. "Are you some kind of monk, stranger?"

He chuckled. "If I was, then I have not kept my vows very well. Don't worry—this is the last of it."

Once he was undressed, Sabrina looked him up and down. Her eyes lingered on certain areas of his body, and her smirk grew as she decided that she was pleased with what she saw. She was glad that she'd chosen to take him home with her. Now to enjoy the remainder of the night with him.

Mewtwo moved before she could, wrapping his arms around the waist and dragging her onto his lap. They laughed as they explored each other, their kisses and caresses getting heavier and needier as they went on. Eventually they slid together with a gasp, their breaths catching as they figured out the rhythm that worked best for them.

As they moved and their control slipped, their mental barriers weakened. Where the shields brushed together, they hissed, crackled, and dissolved. Snatches of thoughts and memories and sensations flitted through the soft spots, distracting them from their pleasure and unnerving them both. There was also something alluring about the experience, though, when the strength of their senses doubled, and when it felt like there were now four hands on their bodies instead of two, and when they peered deeper into each other's souls and realized, You've been called a monster too, and then thought a moment later, but you don't feel like one to me.

Mewtwo knew an instant of terror when she slid deeper into his mind and discovered exactly what he was—and what he'd done in his youth. The laboratory he'd destroyed, the creators he'd killed, the Nurse Joy he'd held captive—she saw all of that. But Sabrina did not push him out and away from her like he expected her to. She only held him tighter, accepting that part of him with a whisper of I understand and I won't judge you into his thoughts. Then she gave him glimpses into her own past—of her childhood home in ruin, of her father retreating from her, or her mother trapped in the form of a doll. I cannot judge you, she said.

It made his heart ache for her, so he buried his nose into her hair and breathed in the scent of her perfume. He licked her beneath her ear, dug his fingertips into her thighs, and drove himself into her harder. He listened to the sounds she made, shivered at how her nails raked down his back, and felt her hips buck against his. When she moaned and told him not to hold back, he didn't, and soon he felt her arc up underneath him, shuddering. The white wash of her pleasure spilled over into his mind, bolstering his own. He hit his own peak a few seconds later.

Afterwards, they laid together in the sheets of the bed, enveloped in the afterglow. When they'd both caught their breaths, Sabrina asked him, "What does your true form look like?" She wanted to know. His memories had never shown his body in its entirety.

Mewtwo hesitated, but why continue to hide himself from her when she already knew the truth? So he transformed, his form glowing as his features shifted from those of a human into those of a bipedal cat. Sabrina looked him over, then reached up to stroke his face, to feel how it had changed. There was no disgust in her eyes, though, and she did not seem disturbed by the fact that she'd had him into her body just minutes ago. Perhaps to prove that to both of them, she closed the distance between them and tentatively pressed her mouth against his.

Mewtwo stiffened. He wasn't used to being kissed while he was in his true form. Sabrina, noticing how tense he was, asked him, "Was that alright?"

"Yes. It just felt...strange," he admitted. "I am not used to being intimate with someone in my true form."

"That doesn't seem right. You should feel comfortable in your own skin—or in your own fur." She took one of his paws into her hands and stroked his knuckles. "Would you like to work on that?"

His eyes went wide at her suggestion. "Are you certain that you would like to?"

She kissed the back of his paw. "I'm willing to try it if you are." She closed her eyes and he heard her whisper in the back of his mind. I like you. I want to see if it could work.

He brushed his mouth against hers. "If you decide that it's not to your liking at any point, tell me and we'll stop."

"Will you do the same?" she asked him.

"I will, though I doubt that will happen," he said, drawing her back into his arms. Her body, after all, was not the one that had changed.

Their touches were more hesitant this time, almost virginal, but soon desire was burning through them again. When they joined together, it felt undeniably different—their movements more jarring and their melding senses mismatched, due to the differences between their bodies. But it also felt more personal to them, because they were no longer trying to hide their secrets from each other. They were making them together instead. So they went slowly, savoring the experience and letting the ache of it deepen. Eventually, Mewtwo groaned her name, and Sabrina shivered at how he said it—at how he made it sound like something wonderful. Even though he knew who she was and what she'd done, he hadn't turned away from her. He was still here, still filling her up and still filling the empty space inside of her heart. Even if this would only last for a short while, that meant a great deal to her.

By the time they finished, they were hot and weary. When they curled up together afterwards, Sabrina murmured, "Well, stranger, I'm all worn out. Would you keep me company while I sleep?"

His brow was furrowed with thought, but he smiled as he said, "Of course." He was willing to stay with her in her nice, soft bed, if that was what she wished. Sabrina smiled, drew the blanket over them, and closed her eyes. He did the same. They soon fell asleep and slept deeply, soothed by each other's warmth.

Sabrina woke before dawn to the sound of fabric rustling. As she blinked to clear the film from her eyes, Mewtwo came into focus. He was still in his true form, but was donning his outmost cloak. The rest of his clothes were folded and stacked on her desk. For a moment, she wanted to protest, to tell him that he could stay with her longer if he wished. She thought about offering him breakfast to persuade him. But then she saw him glance at her alarm clock, his brow knit with worry. Maybe there was somewhere that he needed to be. Maybe he was worried about his safety—or hers—if they were discovered like this. Whatever the case might be, she would respect his wishes, even if didn't want him to leave.

With a sigh, she said, "Were you planning to say goodbye?"

If he was startled by her voice, he didn't show it. "You were sleeping so soundly. It seemed cruel to wake you. I thought it would be better to leave you a note."

She sat up and drew the blanket around herself for warmth. "A note isn't a proper goodbye. What would you say in it, anyway? 'Thank you for having me—let's do it again sometime'?"

"Something like that," he said. "I will keep your preferences in mind for the future, though." He picked up his stack of clothes and tucked it under his arm. "I should be going. It's almost daybreak."

She knew she should let him be on his way, but even so, she asked, "Are you certain there's nothing I can get for you before you go?"

The clone gave her a slightly sad smile, seeing her stalling tactic for what it was—an attempt to prolong their encounter. He understood how she felt. "If there was time, I would ask you for a cup of tea. But we will be discovered if I linger here any longer."

"You could become a human again. No one would have to know what you really are," she said.

"But that is not who I am—not in truth, Sabrina," he reminded her gently.

Seeing the shadow of sorrow in her eyes, Mewtwo went to her and cradled her mouth against his. He imagined what it would feel like to share tea with her, to sit on her bed and sip the hot, sweet beverage. He imagined them talking about anything and nothing at all. But he was not a human and she was not a pokémon. There were limits to how much time they could spend together while still being themselves.

With a whispered farewell, Mewtwo teleported away, leaving Sabrina alone in her bedroom, but with her memories of him intact. Falling back into her pillows with a sigh, the Gym Leader turned her face and pressed her nose into the fabric. The scent of him was still caught in it, musky and sweet, and she wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.

Her eyes shot back open as a realization struck her: she'd forgotten to ask what his name was. As she cursed herself for her forgetfulness, she saw her haunter materialize above her desk. When he read the note that the clone had left, he turned to her with a sly grin. Feeling her cheeks warm, Sabrina telekinetically drew the paper to herself and snatched it out of the air before the ghost could grab it.

The note read: "I have heard that humans make resolutions on New Year's Eve. While I am not one of your kind, I think I will also make one this year: to see you again. Since you said that you feel lonely during the holidays, I will return then. I will be at The Ninetales' Den on Valentine's Day. I hope that you will join me. Sincerely, Mewtwo."

She reread the message several times before teleporting it into one of the locked drawers of her desk. She murmured his name to herself afterwards, feeling how the syllables felt on her lips and on the tip of her tongue. With a smile, she whispered, "It's a date, then," and rose from her messy bed, retrieving her robe and wrapping it around her. Soon her parents would be making breakfast, her other pokémon would be returning from their trips, and the trainers would be arriving at the Gym, bright-eyed and hopeful. Suddenly, the birth of the New Year didn't seem so lacking in promise.

Meanwhile, from a meadow east of Saffron, Mewtwo watched the city skyline gleam in the gathering dawn. In the center of that town was someone he was already looking forward to returning to. In a few months, he would be in the unremarkable pub where they had met, waiting for her to sit down beside him. Smiling at the thought, Mewtwo teleported away, with the sweetness of her lips and cherry wine still on his tongue.