Water in Sunlight

Look what I found... This story is so ancient, it was up on the Pokeslash Playground under Elsa Clarke, my old pen name. In fact, it's so old, I didn't know what a Togetic was, and had all kinds of theories about what Togepi was... I hope you enjoy it anyway... If you object to yuri, you're unlikely to. This is fair warning.

It's a post-bitchshipping Misty/Cassidy story, and while it stands alone, it's in the same continuity as "Girl Next Door," "Pash," "Boys Keep Swinging," and "Let Me Love You."

Water in Sunlight

The Orange Islands didn't have an indigenous climate, existing as they did in a non-existent country in which a boy could be called Kojiro one day and James the next. The island pokégoddesses compensated by borrowing climates fas they saw fit. Currently, they were opting for a summer so harsh that even Ash had admitted that riding on Lapras in the daytime was choosing death by dehydration and heat exhaustion. Travel was postponed until the sun set and gave some blessed relief from the sharp heat.

Misty spent the forenoon floating in a somewhat unpleasantly blood-temperature creek. Her eyes were closed to protect herself from glare headache, as the sun was glittering brightly off the water. Togepi bobbed, chirping endearingly, beside her, and the other pokémon she had failed to offload on her sisters splashed further downstream. The stream gave the water trainer the comforting sense of being back in her true element, light, free and held by soft, invisible hands. If only it was less tepid.

The sea would have been more refreshing, with icy waves coming in from the ocean depths, but Misty wanted privacy for her thoughts. Not that anyone was likely to spy on her swimming anymore. Prima had been left two islands behind, and Jesse…. Well, Misty no longer, of course, regularly wandered off and found an excuse to take off most of her clothes in the hope that Jesse would mysteriously happen along and finish the job. But even if she did, Misty was uncomfortably aware that it would probably be a wasted effort nowadays.

Misty was not the most diplomatic girl in the world. But even she was aware that there were good times and bad times to tell your – girlfriend? Enemy you regularly had sex with? - you were exchanging her for someone with bigger pokémon. Immediately after making love was not the most sensitive time to do so. Unless you were encouraging her to prove to you what you were going to miss. And, if you succeeded in that, telling her right after the second bout that you still didn't think she was good enough was definitely lacking in tact. Misty couldn't help realising that if she wanted Jesse back – which, of course, she didn't – the older girl would probably only be interested in retaliation.

And who else was there? Once Ash would have sacrificed one of his precious badges to catch Misty in a bikini, and Tracy would be furiously sketching in the bushes. Now Ash and Tracy were off together doing… Misty didn't want to think about what they were probably doing.

Not that she was complaining about them hooking up. At least it had stopped Ash giving Misty flowers tied up with shoelaces. She was happy to restore their former state of close friendship interspersed with insults and violent abuse. It was just that hearing Tracy noisily educating Ash about the benefits of teamwork rather tended to rub in the wretched loneliness of Misty's own situation. The last thing she needed to hear was a speech on the Pokémon Watcher's Guide's opinion on trainers sharing techniques…

And she never seemed to be able to find her moisturiser anymore, for some bizarre reason. She'd end up a teenager with the skin of a crone.

Misty sighed to herself and ducked under the surface for a moment, to wet her drying hair. There was a moment of delicious coolness before the sun immediately started to frizzle her red locks again.

She should have stayed with Prima, she told herself. Prima was sweet, generous and built like a comic strip villainess. Prima could have taught Misty to become the world's greatest, and certainly the world's most relaxed, water pokémon trainer. Prima was probably Misty's true love – or something slightly more carnal, but equally intense. Misty shouldn't have been such a virginal little coward. It was just that she had been taken by surprise. She had never known a Cloyster could be trained to do… that.

Sighing in mingled regret and nausea, Misty pulled herself out the water. She paused to check her reflection. It was a bad habit she had picked up from a certain fuchsia-haired narcissist whose first act after bathing, making love or doing anything else seemed to be to critically inspect her own appearance in case its perfection had been somehow marred.

Misty couldn't help noticing that, in all modesty, she looked distinctly attractive. Her usually unmanageable hair was drenched, and fell in temporary sleekness to her shoulders. With her round blue eyes narrowed against the glaring sunlight, she looked older and more sophisticated. She didn't exactly stretch her bikini top to bursting point, but she was very nicely shaped in a kind of boyishly coltish way. Cleavage wasn't everything. Beach babe judges were ignorant sleazes, and when someone else had said… that… she had just been a little upset over being dumped by someone as adorable as Misty. And the 'Waterflowers' were daft harlots who had poisoned their brains with too much hair dye. Misty was cute as a clefairy.

Watching her reflection closely, the little redhead trailed her fingers down the sides of her breasts, splaying them caressingly across her finely muscled abdomen before rounding behind to cup her high buttocks, dipping briefly between her thighs for an electric moment before tracing their lean lines down. Her reflection smiled back up at her.

Nice, very, very nice, she told herself. Even I could fancy me…

, she told herself.

She giggled and made her way back to her clothes, shaking off the blues as she went. Prima, and a certain other older woman that Misty did not, for reasons unclear even to herself, want to think about, were hardly the only girls in the Pokémon Islands. Misty would do just fine. She hadn't written to Marina for a while… And maybe the butch Nurse Joy with the Gyrados required some assistance in her pokémon rescue missions. And, if they ever finished this excruciating period of island hopping, it might be fun to get to know Erika better. Misty had always appreciated perfume. Or perhaps she could visit Gary and his little friends…

Misty was teenaged, pretty and entirely free of parental supervision. Life looked good.

Resisting the temptation to lie down, lose the bikini and explore her speculations a bit further – it was just too hot today - Misty picked up her shorts. After all, she could probably thank Jesse, even if she was a disgusting pervert Misty never, ever wanted to see again. It wasn't just that the Rocket girl opened up a dazzling new range of possibilities for Misty. Now, when As– Tea- her sis- people made cruel and unjustified remarks about Misty's dress sense, she could claim her clothes were a valid and coherent statement of her lifestyle choices.

Misty smiled to herself, but something pricked at the edges of her awareness. Something very wrong. It was far too quiet… Misty became aware that she hadn't heard Togepi trilling since she had ducked underwater.

She scanned the creek with her eyes. Starmie glided through the water like a tiny, bejewelled yacht. Psyduck was contentedly sharing an intense conversation with a rock. But she couldn't see Togepi anywhere.

Misty dropped her shorts and plunged back into the creek. Open-eyed under the water, she searched frantically among the waterweeds. A hideous chant echoed through her head, I'm a bad mother, I'm a bad mother, I'm a bad mother… Oh, goddess, it was probably a good thing she was a dyke. She inwardly swore to avoid IVF clinics like the plague. Oh, my poor darling Togepi.

She tried a new mantra. What am I going to do, what am I going to do? Go home and announce that she'd had a lovely afternoon, except that, don't get worked up, she'd managed to drown Togepi? Tracy would be sweetly reproachful and rub salt into the wound with his unstinting compassion. Pikachu would thundershock her to death in revenge. Worse, Ash would be openly very sympathetic, and secretly very smug that she'd finally proved she was a worse pokémon trainer than he was, and that Pikachu's only competition in the lovable stakes was now Marril. And if she survived all that, the very next time she ran into Team Rocket, Meowth would probably scar her for life for letting his beloved egg get hurt.

Lungs filled with agonising pain, Misty broke the surface at last and gasped for air. "Togepi!" she screamed once there was air in her lungs again. "Togepi!"

"Togi, togi! Togi – prrrrriiii!" the excited answer came.

Heart bursting with love and relief, Misty turned in the direction of her pet pokémon's voice.

She froze as she met unfriendly violet eyes. "Well, look what we've found," Cassidy drawled. "The resident of the most frequently robbed cradle in Cerulean." Butch, mercifully, didn't say anything.

Togepi, the treacherous little ovum, failed to bawl its eyes out and demand Misty. Instead, it snuggled into Cassidy's arms and chirruped joyfully at its trainer. "Togi-togi-togi-togi-togi!" Look, Mama! This one's even prettier than the four-eyed one! Can we keep her?

Neither Raticate nor Drowzee had Meowth's translation talents, and they were in their pokéballs anyway. So the Rockets didn't realise why Misty suddenly turned bright red and tried to stop noticing that the top of Togepi's head was about level with the bottom of Cassidy's bust. For heaven's sake, most of the time Misty had no idea what her pokémon were saying. Why did the ability have to surface now? Fortunately, Cassidy's opening remark was humiliating enough to justify any amount of blushes.

"Um…" Misty sought desperately for an opening gambit of her own, and fell back on the 'innocent young heroine molested by evil villains' routine. "Give me back my Togepi!"

Great. Now she sounded like Ash. The pair in front of her rolled their eyes.

A nasty feeling of dread pulled at the pit of Misty's stomach. Team Rocket, when it consisted of Jesse, James and Meowth, was one thing. They had a charming tendency to fall into their own holes, spring their own traps, blow their disguises and considerately blast off at the crucial moment. Misty was afraid this particular Team Rocket was a different kettle of goldeen. During her brief acquaintance, they hadn't seemed as captivatingly ineffectual as their white uniform colleagues.

"Togepi? Is that its name, or what this thing is?" Cassidy asked.

Misty's eyes widened in confusion. "I don't understand the question."

"It looks like a very rare pokémon," Butch contributed. Misty tried not to wince. Togepi, she noticed, suddenly looked far less happy with its close proximity to the blue-haired boy.

"Oh, no, it's probably very common. A baby chansey, would be my guess. You can pick them up in any Pokécentre, so why don't you try now? And give Togepi back to me, because it's only a useless baby without any attacks, and it will miss its Mama and be sad," she babbled, despite the fact that Togepi actually looked very satisfied with the blonde Rocket girl. Staryu was creeping closer, and Misty uneasily tried to remember if Raticate knew electric attacks. She had a horrible feeling it did. She gestured to Staryu to stay away.

"You could steal my rare, powerful Psyduck instead," she added hopefully.

"I'm sure the Boss will be interested in a, um, Togepi," Cassidy agreed, ignoring the girl.

"No, he won't! Jesse said Giovanni rejected it! Your Boss said it was useless, so there's really no point in you stealing it," Misty pleaded. Although, she realised uneasily, Jesse was probably lying. She'd wondered at the time why Jesse had admitted to her they'd stolen Togepi, but put it down to standard pre-coital bragging, one of the inherent hazards of an affaire with a Team Rocket member. Perhaps Jesse made up the whole story in the hope that Misty would relax and bring along Togepi to one of their… chance meetings. Jesse wasn't exactly the world's most trustworthy informant, especially when rare pokémon were concerned.

"Why should we believe you, little girl?" Cassidy arched a bored eyebrow. "I'm still not convinced this thing didn't have anything to do with the explosion."

"But it's only a baby!" Misty had a brainwave. "Anyway, you can't steal anything." But I'll give you Psyduck if you really want, she added silently. "You haven't said the motto." The moment they start reciting, I grab Togepi and run for it.

Misty realised her mistake as the background music began to swell. She had just condemned herself to hearing Butch pronounce a good dozen words. She blenched, and decided protecting her hearing was more important than taking advantage of the distraction.

After what seemed an eternity, the Rockets reached their final poses. Misty, who had over the last couple of years become an experienced and highly critical judge of dramatic flourishes, was less than impressed. Butch and Cassidy's poses weren't anywhere near as classy and sexy as the poses Jesse and James could have produced under similar circumstances. Come to think of it, the black-uniformed Team Rocket had remained with their feet fixed on the ground throughout the recital, rather than attempting acrobatics or floating gracefully and somewhat uncannily through the air. Sloppy work, even if Cassidy had been encumbered by Togepi.

Artistic judgements out of the way, Misty decided it was safe to listen again.

"So now we can steal your pokémon," Butch said triumphantly. Misty shrieked and slammed her hands back over her ears.

When she became aware that the older teenagers were glaring at her, she put her hands down and gazed warily back at them. "You're not going to explode your secret weapon, are you? Or go to sleep around a campfire with Togepi conveniently lying three metres away? Or annoy some wild pokémon into attacking?" she suggested wistfully.

They gave her a strange look. "No."

"I want Jesse back!" Misty wailed, heartbroken.

Cassidy's lips curved in a knowing smile. "I'll bet you do, princess." She flipped back a braid, and tossed a sparkling glance at Butch.

Misty thought about belatedly adding "and James and Meowth," but decided that would just make things worse. Instead, she put her hands on her hips – rather a wasted effort as she was in water up to her chin – and snapped, "What exactly are you implying?"

Butch was grinning nastily. "Just that you wish someone else had stumbled on you here."

Misty's pupils dilated in horror. "How do you know that? I mean – I just – I meant that Jesse and James are easier to defeat, that's all."

Cassidy handed Togepi to Butch, so that she could put her own hands on her hips. "James," she said, succinctly.


"It's a Team Rocket tradition," she explained. "When your missions aren't going too well… When, to take a random example, your breeding centre blows up –" the pair sent a resentful glance at Misty, "it's traditional to distract Giovanni from your failure by sending him things you think will amuse him. Like accounts of your partner's sex life."

"Because the Boss is a pervert," Butch supplied.

"He isn't anything of the kind! Giovanni just takes a… paternal interest in his employees and their emotional lives." Cassidy clasped her hands before her, her violet eyes glowing dreamily. "Giovanni is a caring and wonderful person and the most fabulous leader Team Rocket could ever have."

"Thank you for that, Cass. We all know how you feel about the Boss," Butch growled.

"Well, some of us find it easier to dig dirt on our slutty partners than others," Cassidy snapped back, the light fading from her eyes.

Misty interrupted what looked sure to be a domestic. She really wasn't in the mood. "Maybe James was lying when he said Jesse and I -"

"I doubt it," Cassidy said absently. "His report was illustrated."

Misty covered her eyes as heat flooded her face. That foul Tracy. He would never live to see Professor Oak again. Unless Todd was responsible, in which case she would just make him eat his own camera. "Originals or photocopies?" she asked, without much hope.

"Photocopies. Wow, you're a little goer, aren't you?" Butch remarked cheerfully.

"She'd have to be," Cassidy said. She seemed suddenly rather put out about something. "I mean, there has to be some reason why Jesse would prefer this little tomboy to –" She paused and bit her lip. "Get out of the water," she ordered suddenly.

"What? Why?"

"Get out of the water or I'll make Butch sing that egg thing a lullaby."

Misty scrambled out of the water. Dignity was all very well, but there were some horrors to which a good mother would never expose her baby.

"Stand straight. Turn around. Slowly. Now, look at her," Cassidy said, turning to Butch. "What the hell is so special about her? I'm much prettier, aren't I?" she asked, a plaintive whine creeping into her usually strident tones. "I mean, she's just a skinny little carrot-top. I've got a figure, and I'm blonde." Butch nodded in agreement.

"That's not fair! I'm full of athletic tomboy charm! And I'm adorably peppy!" wailed Misty. "Haven't you people ever read Pippi Longstocking?"

"Shut your face, stick insect." Cassidy, who had lost her temper for a second, took a deep breath and resumed a more characteristic manner, oozing condescension from every pore as she began to lecture. "Little girl, despite that erotic little display of preening you put on a few minutes ago, you have no sex appeal whatsoever. It's time you came to terms with the fact. Go back to your little Pokémon Master boyfriend and stop trying to compete with the real thing."

Misty's humiliation was abruptly consumed by fury. This girl was, if possible, vainer and nastier Jesse. And even Jesse – well, not precisely acknowledged Misty's charms, because she was generally far too preoccupied with her own, but at least had wanted to…

Misty stepped forward, wound her arms around Cassidy's neck, and pressed her mouth against hers.

There was a brief moment of panic as Misty tried to work out what she had just done. After all, it had seemed pretty clear from the earlier bickering that Cassidy and Butch were domestically settled. All Misty had as encouragement was half a word spoken in anger…

But she was sick of people insulting her appearance, and she was going to force some response from this woman if it killed her. Cassidy was apparently too shocked to react, although Misty could hear Butch snickering behind her. She deepened the kiss, pressing closer.

Cassidy's lips suddenly parted, arms coming up to press a bare waist and stroke the damp fabric over Misty's buttocks. And with that gesture, the kiss changed. Misty's anger dissolved. She didn't care who she was kissing, or why. All she was conscious of was the softness of breasts against her own, of lips on which she could just barely taste the richness of black coffee, of sun-hot hair between her fingers. She moaned into Cassidy's mouth and followed the sound with her tongue, feeling the other girl's tongue thrust to meet it in return. One of her hands left Cassidy's neck and pushed up between them, to cup and caress a breast.

When they parted, Misty was triumphant, but she was also panting. "Well?" she challenged. "Still want to find out what I've got?"

Cassidy looked over her shoulder. "Get lost, Butch."

"Aw, can't I watch?"

Mood abruptly broken, Misty shuddered and clung to Cassidy. The blonde absently-mindedly patted her on the head. "I think the little girl's afraid of you, lover. Go away."

Butch pouted. "She's scared of me, but she's hanging around your neck? Which one of us is the psycho bitch again, Cass?"

Cassidy sighed. "Firstly, you're going to pay for calling me that. Secondly, I think it's your… I mean…" She put on her best kind-but-firm voice. "Look, Butch, I'm used to you. But Misty doesn't know you very well yet, and I think you're kind of freaking her out. You're putting her off, anyway, and I don't want her put off. I want to find out what all the fuss is about, since it's obviously not her looks. So if you'll kindly piss off…"

Butch folded his arms and glowered at his partner. "No. If you're going to do things to the shrimp, I get to watch. We share things, Cassidy. That's what a relationship is."

Fortunately Psyduck, for once in its life, was paying what passed (for a Psyduck) for attention to the situation. It had finally worked out that this strange man posed a danger to his trainer, or at least was making horrible noises at her. The little pokémon, which had made no attempt whatsoever to stop complete strangers carrying off Togepi, climbed purposefully out of the water.

Cassidy frowned thoughtfully. "He could actually be useful, you know."

"No!" Misty cried. "I'm not doing anything else with him here." To bring her point home, she pinched Cassidy's nipple tightly, repressing a smug grin at the tremor she felt.

"Then you're not doing anything!" Butch snapped. "Cassidy, try to show a little loyalty."

Psy- DUCK! The raised voices had finally convinced Psyduck that Butch was a real threat to Misty. It waddled up and began to ineffectually beat at his legs. Butch laughed.

"What a useless little pokémon. And this is the rare Pysduck you wanted us to steal?" He whacked it over the head. Psyduck's eyes began to glow.

"Yes!" Misty would have punched the air, but she didn't want to let go of Cassidy.

The two girls watched as Butch, feeling very befuddled for some reason, wandered off by himself into the forest, occasionally crashing into trees. To Misty's relief, he dropped Togepi on his way, and the little pokémon wandered off towards the water, where Staryu and Goldeen could babysit it.

Psyduck, pleased with itself, looked around for another baddie to defeat. But there was only the nice lady cuddling Psyduck's Mama. It considered going up and hugging their legs, because Misty would be very proud of it and happy to have it join in, but it wanted to get back to its rock. They had been having such a fascinating conversation. Psyduck turned and toddled back to the creek.

"That wasn't half bad. Maybe we should steal it," Cassidy said thoughtfully.

Misty looked severely at her. "Butch is right. You're not very loyal to your partner, you know. You should have wailed Jaa-a-a-ames! And gone off to comfort him."

Cassidy snickered. "Last time I called him James, Butch didn't speak to me for a week." Misty raised an eyebrow, and they both started to giggle. "All right, so that wasn't so bad, but he wouldn't do anything else either…"

Misty frowned slightly. The last thing she wanted to think about was Butch doing anything to Cassidy, especially if she was calling him James at the time. And she didn't particularly want Cassidy thinking about it either. It was essential that she distracted the older girl before the mood was lost completely. She stood slightly on tiptoes, and reached back up for Cassidy's mouth.

When they broke apart, Misty put on her best wide-eyed little girl look. "Poor Cass. How do you cope with being in Team Rocket? Giovanni must be very cruel."

Cassidy flared up instantly. "What do you know about it, you stupid little goody-goody? Giovanni only wants –"

"What's best for you, I know," Misty interrupted. She looked sorrowfully up at Cassidy. "But he makes you wear all these clothes in this weather." She stroked a glove.

Cassidy immediately dampened down. "Oh," she sighed, pouting prettily. Her expression and tone were, Misty noticed happily, wildly at variance with her sparkling eyes. "The uniform is sweltering in these islands. And," she added, hands slipping to cup Misty's still-wet buttocks, "I get so very hot."

"There must be something we can do about it," Misty sympathetically agreed. And the boots are coming off first – I hope, she added to herself. If a reluctance to take the boots off in any circumstances is a universal Team Rocket trait, I'm stuffed. Black leather is one thing. Black leather is… nice. But getting my face anywhere near those white go-go boots would be a more effective anaphrodisiac than Butch whispering sweet nothings in my ear.

Misty momentarily considered pushing Cassidy into the water and waterlogging the horrendous things, forcing their removal. But sense told her that would be as likely to earn her a tantrum and an abrupt abandonment as anything else. And, besides, Cassidy had already released her and stepped away. Her dress, soaked where Misty had been pressing against her, was clinging in a very interesting fashion, and she was pulling off her gloves.

Misty's nether regions suddenly voted very strongly in favour of a more subtle approach. Perhaps, if Misty was very nice, Cassidy would even consent to having her hair rescued from those punitive braids. "Can I help you with that? I mean, as a humanitarian act?"

Cassidy tossed her gloves to the ground. "Athletic tomboy charm, huh?"

Misty smiled radiantly. "Bags of it." She moved forward.

Some time later…

Misty surfaced, and tried not to look smug. Cassidy, she noted with satisfaction, appeared rather limp and dazed. And so she should. Misty had found the last few weeks very educational, and she had just put all that theory into practice.

"Am I still a stupid little goody-goody?" she asked, softly.

Cassidy gave a rather exhausted giggle. "Well, I might have to reconsider that assessment," she conceded. "I did hear that you were quite talented at – the wetter skills." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Misty took advantage of the opportunity to move up to kneel over the blonde, straddling her waist. She looked down admiringly as she began to, finally, strip off her long-dried and rather uncomfortably sticky bikini top. Cassidy's hair framed her pointed face in braid-crinkled waves, sweat dampening down the spiky bangs, and her pale skin was still deeply flushed with blood. And what was actually under all that heavy black fabric had not disappointed at all…

Misty hoped Cassidy wasn't as tired as she seemed. Of course, the little redhead seemed to have proved her point beyond hope of rebuttal, and that was cause for a certain quiet satisfaction. On the other hand, she didn't think it was unfair to wish for a little satisfaction of a different kind, for herself. Her bikini bottom was not quite as dry as the top.

She began, somewhat wistfully, to untie the strings at one hip, then looked up to find her companion had rejoined the waking world. Cassidy lifted a somewhat languid hand.

"I suppose there is something to be said for high and pert, after all," she said, caressing firm flesh.

Misty blushed and shivered, and stopped trying to take her own pants off. "It's OK – you can sleep if you want. I don't mind." Damn, why did I say that? I don't mean it. Blue-green eyes looked pleadingly into purple.

Cassidy seemed to understand. She pushed herself up on her elbows. "Here, let me help you with this," she said, reaching for the strings Misty had released. "After all, you so kindly freed me from that stifling uniform." She caught Misty's slightly surprised expression, and half-grimaced, half laughed. "What's wrong? You must have been very badly neglected, little girl, if you thought I was going to roll over and go to sleep. Did you think all Rocket girls were as selfish as your pink-haired bitch of a girlfriend? Is that it?"

That's not fair… Misty felt tears begin to rise. I wasn't thinking of you as a substitute for Jesse at all. And, anyway, she's not that bad… and I don't think she was ever my girlfriend, exactly. We didn't exactly date. Just…And now Cassidy's mad with me, and she won't want to do anything now.Misty couldn't bring herself to express any of her tormented emotions in words.. She simply backhanded Cassidy over the head instead.

Cassidy seemed confused by the younger girl's reaction, but once the dizziness of near-concussion had abated, her frown was almost affectionate. "Turn off the waterworks, princess. And lay off the violence while you're at it, unless you actually want a spanking, in which case I'd be happy to oblige. Oh come on, Misty, stop crying. Did you think I'd let all that Pippi Longstocking pep go to waste?" The bikini bottoms fell away, and Cassidy replaced them with her hand. Misty stopped mid-sob. "There, now, feeling better?"

Misty nodded, tears drying instantly. "Oh… Yes, Cass, much better…"

"Good." Cassidy's mouth twitched in amusement. "But I do think we have certain issues to work out. I'm not convinced you're entirely focused on exactly who you are with." Misty opened her mouth to protest, but Cassidy stopped it with one hand on her lips. Although what the other hand was doing was an almost equally effective distraction. Misty moaned slightly, and decided to shut up and see what the other girl had to say.

"So," Cassidy continued, "I just have to demonstrate to you a few… differences. It's only fair, after you put on such an impressive demonstration for me." Her fingers found the resistance they were looking for, and she smiled, rather frighteningly. "And it seems some lessons have been saved for me."

"What do you mean?"

Cassidy pushed her off, much to Misty's disappointment. The blonde rolled over and produced something from the folds of her discarded clothes that certainly shouldn't have fitted in them.

"What do you think I mean, tomboy?" she asked, beginning to work the straps.


Misty felt tears begin to rise.