"Explosions, Helicopters & Exploding Helicopters..." Consciousness came in a slow progression as her mind distantly registered the repeated and extremely annoying sound of a phone ringing somewhere. It seemed to go on forever. Starting and stopping whenever the sweet oblivion of sleep took her, dragging Miranda kicking and screaming back into semi wakefulness every few minutes. "Just leave us alone," she muttered grumpily, blindingly reaching behind her for a pillow and holding it against her ear as the phone downstairs rang again, blessedly picked up on the first ring, only to be followed by the dreaded sound of footsteps coming up the staircase outside her room. Miranda gritted her teeth, an unpleasant feeling of dread filling her as the footsteps drew nearer. "Go away, go away," she chanted under her breath, willing the phone to be for someone else, but the quiet, polite knock at her door might as well have been a sonic boom. "Miri?" came a half familiar voice who's tone seemed distracted, "You up yet? You've got a call from some guy named Dave." 'Dave?' Miranda pondered inwardly, running through the list of no less than eight Dave's she met in her carrier as a courier. "Which one?" she called out groggily, tossing the pillow aside and sitting up. "Um, some Sylph Co guy," the voice replied as Miranda half realized who the speaker was. "Uncle?" she inquired, wondering what time it was and why Frank was outside her door at such an early hour. "Yes?" inquired Frank, his voice still sounding agitated, as though there were other things on his mind. "What time is it?" "Half past ten." "Tell him I'll be down in a minute," Miranda grumbled, sighing as she leaned against the headboard, glancing down at Misty who opened her eyes and smiled up at the courier. "No rest for the wicked, dear?" she inquired with a quiet chuckle. "Tomorrow, I'm sleeping 'till noon," Miranda replied with a weak smile, accepting Misty's outstretched hand and kissing her knuckles affectionately, "Need anything from downstairs?" "No," Misty sighed, snuggling under the blankets almost teasingly, "Just you." "I won't be long," the courier promised, reluctantly swinging her legs out from beneath the warmth of the covers and shivering as she searched for something to wear. Misty made a quiet sound but was asleep by the time Miranda had thrown on a housecoat and had kissed her lightly on the cheek. "I hope this is important," the courier muttered to herself, half wondering if every morning was going to begin with some new emergency and if she'd ever get to wake up in a more pleasant manner, "Oh well, I'm sure I'll know which 'Dave' he is when I see him..." *** Downstairs seemed somehow far busier than it should have for a Saturday that people were supposed to be taking off. The tension in the air seemed palatable, and the concerned look Bob cast Miranda when she passed him on her way to the kitchen seemed to speak of a crisis situation. "Should I ask?" she inquired as he rushed out of his domain wielding a platter holding a steaming teapot and a pile of freshly baked cookies. "Take the call first," Bob assured his stepdaughter with a wary shake of his head, "There's not much we can do at this point." Miranda's now very worried gaze followed him into the living room where Bob vanished and the sound of her mother comforting Laurna filled her ears. "I should probably wait for the whole story anyway," she told herself, walking up to the out of date vid-phone her grandparents had once placed on the wall near the kitchen door. The screen was flashing "HOLD" as she picked up the receiver, but quickly vanished when Miranda hit the "talk" button. It was then that she discerned which Dave was calling her. She hadn't heard from the Sylph Co scientist who'd helped herself and Misty thwart Kathy's experiments on water pokemon in quite some time. But then, she'd neglected to make the effort. Professor Katherine had been using DNA extracted by cruel methods from a captured dragonite to make the water-types in her lab nearly invulnerable to electrical attacks. However, when the higher-ups at Sylph Co had ordered a porygon installed into the mainframe at the obscure regional office she'd been working at, whatever nefarious plans the woman had for her army of mostly lightning resistant magikarps had broken down and finally been thwarted. "Oh, hello again, Miranda!" responded the busy looking scientist on the view screen, cradling the receiver between his cheek and shoulder as he worked on something the vid-phone's camera couldn't see, "Sorry if I'm calling you too early, but this is the only break I have today, I'm afraid." The courier smiled at Dave's mildly embarrassed sounding tone as he glanced up sheepishly from whatever he was doing. "Well, the time difference is only half an hour, so I wouldn't worry about it took much," she assured him with a shrug, "So, what's up? Anything interesting happen since we left? And how's that dragonite? "Alexander's doing quite well all things considered," replied Dave, a satisfied grin crossing his face as he set down a small screwdriver and wiped the sweat from his brow, "As am I. They promoted me to head of evolution stone research. It's our transposition system that seems to be having problems, though." "Hopefully it wasn't sabotaged like the last one," Miranda laughed, moving to hold her robe tighter as it threatened to open in the front, causing Dave to blush and quickly look away. "Oh! No, no," the scientist assured her, suddenly looking embarrassed, "It was actually just me spilling my morning coffee into the transposition pad in my office. I'd use someone else's, but I'd rather not have to explain what I'm about to do." Miranda gave the scientist a suspicious look. "And just what are you about to do?" she inquired, quickly glancing around to make certain no one else was in the kitchen with her. "Send you a little something, actually," confessed Dave a little nervously, "You see, I've been working on those de-evolution stones again. Trying to work the bugs out, make them more stable, etcetera. The usual crap we have to go through to line President Mordeaux's pockets." "That could be a bad thing in the wrong hands, professor," commented Miranda cautiously, trying to keep her mixed emotions at the thought of such a thing from entering her voice. "Yes, well, that's why I wanted YOU to test it for me," explained Dave, suddenly holding up an ornately carved chunk of polished black rock, "Is the Lilcamp transposition array working okay?" "Err, as far as I know-" "Great!" laughed Dave, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he set the stone down and punched some buttons on a keypad, "I'll send it right over then!" "Hold on!" exclaimed Miranda, "I'll need to reroute the signal to my stepfather's office. I really don't feel like going into the warehouse barefoot wearing only an old housecoat just now." Dave glanced up and blushed again, causing Miranda to laugh as she set down the receiver and hurried into Bob's office. "I hope he doesn't mind," the courier muttered, glancing guiltily over her shoulder in the direction of the living room as she sat down in her stepfather's swivel chair and hit the switch on the power-bar with her toe. After several unpleasant rattling noises from the hard drive and a nearly two minutes of waiting for the OS to boot up, a small rectangular window appeared against the pleasant mountain range landscape that made up Bob's desktop background. Miranda sighed as she typed in Bob's full name and clicked on the password bar. "If he was wasn't so obvious, I'd probably need Wraith's help for this one," she muttered with a laugh, smiling inwardly at her stepfather's devotion to her mother as she typed in "V-I-V-I-A-N" and hit "Enter". The courier gave the computer a satisfied nod as it finished booting the system, and quickly accessed the transposition array's software before hitting the shortcut that allowed her to access the vid-phone from Bob's computer. "This'll only take a second," she told Dave as the house shook slightly in response to the transposition array deploying atop the warehouse that the building was connected to. "Not a problem," Dave assured her as a distant -CLUNK!- sound issued from somewhere outside and Miranda quickly typed in a few commands. "Okay, send away." The scientist nodded, smiling to himself as he hit the "Send" button and loud humming sound filled the computer speakers, followed by a peculiar crackling noise as the stone was converted into transferable energy and absorbed by the device at his end. "Black, blacker, blackest," Miranda recited quietly during the three seconds it took the signal to bounce off the satellite in orbit and hit the Lilcamp array before the small receiving device beside Bob's monitor began to hum and crackling white light appeared between the small round receiving disk and the rather menacingly unpleasant looking device just above it. A moment later, and the energy was converted back into matter, leaving behind the fist sized round stone Dave had been so anxious to send Miranda. "So, you want me to field test this then?" the courier inquired, glancing at the stone as she reset the system and returned the array to its holding area. "If you wouldn't mind," replied Dave a little sheepishly, "Although I'd prefer if you didn't let word get out that I sent it to you. The higher-ups are still kinda annoyed that your aunt won't sell them the patent for those ghost-balls." "Too bad, so sad!" Miranda laughed, picking up the stone and examining it, "But yeah, I'd be glad to test it out if I get the chance. Although, if it's anything like the last stone I tested out for you, there could be some rather interesting side effects..." "Oh?" inquired Dave, leaning forward in his seat, his eyes gleaming with sudden interest, "There were side effects you say? Why didn't tell me, I-" "Oh, it was nothing bad," the courier assured him with a chuckle, "But it seems Nezumi can evolve pretty much at will into a raticate now." "What?!" the scientist exclaimed so loudly that Miranda had to turn down the speaker volume. "You heard me," she chuckled, "Only for about ten or fifteen minutes at a time, mind you, but it's a neat trick." "I see," Dave commented quickly, scrambling for a note pad, "Look if you get the chance, could you drop by at some point? I really like to run a few harmless tests-" "Well, actually, I still need to bring Nezumi in for his yearly physical. I could have Joy send you the results if you'd like?" "Oh, that'd be splendid!" responded Dave gleefully, clasping his hands together and grinning broadly, "Just please, keep me informed from now on, okay? Please?" Miranda smiled, resisting the urge to reach through the screen and pat him on the head. "No problem," she told him, glancing over her shoulder as Bob entered the room with a questioning look upon his face, "But look, um, I have kind of a family crisis going on just now. Can I call you back another time?" "Not a problem," the scientist assured her, glancing past her to where Miranda's stepfather was standing, "But keep in touch, alright?" "I will," she promised, casting the cursor about to end the call, "Bye Dave!" "If you'd like, I could get you a computer for your room," commented Bob, his tone sounding far more annoyed than the amusement reflecting in his eyes would have his stepdaughter believe. "I'll buy you a porygon for your birthday," Miranda replied with a dismissive wave of her hand as she spun the chair around to face him, "But um... Sorry." "It's okay," he replied sympathetically, "Look um, there's been a problem at Laurna's lab-" "Is she alright?!" Miranda exclaimed in a sudden panic, leaping to her feet and barely keeping her housecoat closed. "She wasn't hurt," Bob assured, quickly turning away, "But there was a small fire, and some things have gone missing." "Really? What?" Bob glanced over his shoulder as Miranda walked up to him, meeting his gaze questioningly. "Um, her entire supply of ghost-balls for one thing," he explained in a careful tone. "And?" Miranda inquired, knowing that the worst was yet to come. "Um, Miranda," Bob asked nervously, glancing around as his tone filled with dread, "You... You don't have any pokemon stored at the lab do you?" The courier shook her head. "No, I've never sent any in," she explained, "I don't 'collect' pokemon the way some morons do. It's not exactly a secret that I hold that whole 'catch them all' mentality in contempt." Bob nodded slowly, seemingly feeling better for the assurance. "Well," he continued with a heavy sigh, "It seems that a few other Lav'Brats don't share your perspective. Twenty some odd of the poke's Laurna had in stasis went missing as well. Who ever did it covered their tracks by setting a few small fires and trashing the lab. Needless to say, Laurna isn't happy. She feels responsible, and she has no idea what she's going to tell the trainers who owned them." Miranda shook her head slowly in disbelief. "This town is falling apart," she muttered, "First those tourists deliberately run that dewgong over with their motorboat, and now this. Do I even what to know what's next?" "Probably not." The courier smiled in spite of herself. "I take it Frank's got his people looking into it?" "Yeah, they're off questioning the two hundred or so possible suspects right now," Bob replied warily, rubbing his eyes as he shook his head, "Frank just got back from the lab a short time ago, and hi's growlithe taking it worse than Laurna is. Frank had to 'return' her least her anxiety give the poor thing a heart attack." "Canine mentality, I suppose." "She blames herself," said Bob with a shrug, "apparently Bow didn't notice anything until it was too late." "They probably 'ported in," Miranda pondered, tapping her chin thoughtfully and pacing back and forth, "Probably brought a white noise generator with them to mask the sound too." "More than likely," said Bob with a shrug as a cell-phone in the living room went off and Frank's frazzled sounding voice answered it. "I gotta go!" the officer called out a moment later, rushing from the living room in a sudden hurry, "I'll be back as soon as I can!" "You have a lead?" inquired Bob, hurrying into the hallway as Frank threw on his coat and flung open the front door. "Don't know!" he called back, his footsteps sounding heavy across the porch outside as the door slammed closed. "I-I'll go talk to Aunt Laurna," Miranda offered, stepping sideways through the doorway to get past her stepfather. "Did you want me to make you breakfast?" he offered. "No, that's alright," she replied with a smile, holding her stomach as though it were about to burst, "We had dinner at the Yin Tze Restaurant. I'll probably have to skip lunch as well." Miranda chuckled at Bob's suddenly downcast expression, but as she entered the living room, the remnants of her good humor faded. Once there, the courier found her mother and aunt sitting on the couch together. Laurna still looked as though she'd just gotten up, and still had a bit of soot on one side of her face as she leaned against her sister, staring blankly at the television before them. "Hi, Auntie," said Miranda softly, adjusting her housecoat as she came over and sat on the opposite side of Laurna, "Anything I can do to help?" There was an unpleasant redness to Laurna's soft magenta eyes as she stared blankly forward, barely acknowledging her niece's presence with a mumbled reply. "Bob explained what happened, right?" asked Vivian rhetorically. Miranda nodded, putting her hand atop her mother's to help hold Laurna's hand. "Yes," she replied quietly, glancing at Laurna whose glasses were slipping off the end of her nose, "had I known I would have come down earlier-" "No, it's alright," her mother assured, shaking her head slowly, "There's nothing more to be done. Frank's doing everything he can, and I'm not going anywhere until my sister feels better." Laurna glanced over at Miranda for the first time, her bottom lip quivering as though she were about to cry again as she mumbled something unintelligible. "I'm sorry," Miranda replied, putting her arm around the woman and giving her a small hug, "Is there anything I can do?" Laurna just shook her head and glanced back at the television. "Tell them to make some new episodes," she muttered quietly. Miranda glanced at the enormously, bulky black and white television that sat omnipresently against the far wall, and whose flat top served as an additional mantle piece of pictures and a variety of odd souvenirs the family had collected over the years. Among them was a large, rectangular box with a retractable antenna, a large glowing red LED display, and a pair of glowing vacuum tubes near the back, all connected by a mass of multi-coloured wires. Attached to the contraption was a long black cable, twice the width of an extension cord that had been haphazardly repaired several dozen times with various colours of electrical tape that lead up to an equally bulky looking box on the coffee table. The variety of dials, switches and levers on the device allegedly changed the channel, and Miranda still smiled when she recalled her father's words. "We can put people on the moon, but I still have to get up to change the channel, and that's just NOT right!" The fact, however, that Lavender Town only got two channels hadn't deterred Nicholas Lilcamp any. Neither had the fact that the only one that came in clearly was in Spanish, and no one in their family spoke the language. His need to create had always been something his daughter idolized him for. "Oh, it's this show," Miranda commented, finally glancing at the fuzzy, black and white screen in time to see the blurry image of an animated helicopter that was involved in a car chase through a shopping mall go down in sudden fiery explosion, "That's strange. It's the same episode I see every time I get a chance to sit down and watch it." The beginnings of a smile crept across Laurna's face. "Yeah," she whispered, leaning her head upon her niece's shoulder for support, "The episode where the evil Dr. Yak tries to launch a missile at the San Andreas Fault to cause all of California to slide into the ocean. That way ninety percent of the world's actors will be killed and the new acting Mecca for North America will shift to Toronto. And once that's done, Dr. Yak can go there and start his acting career and totally clean up. Goodness this show is bogus sometimes!" Miranda smiled as Laurna's expression brightened somewhat. "So," she inquired carefully, "Are you going to the festival at all today?" Laurna sighed heavily, exhaling slowly as she pondered her response. "Probably eventually," she said as the mute, rune-sword wielding heroine on screen sidestepped the villain's car as it sped towards her before tapping the Ford Pinto lightly on the back bumper and running for her life before the vehicle exploded messily, "I'm supposed to help out with the parade this afternoon, but I guess I won't be selling too many ghost-balls afterwards." Miranda nodded sympathetically. "Frank'll find who did this," the courier assured her with some certainty, "There's not too many places to hide several large crates of pokeballs." Laurna shivered unpleasantly at a sudden thought, her eyes mirroring her dread. "Oh no," she muttered mostly to herself, "That reminds me. I still don't know what I'm going to tell those trainers who had their pokemon stolen... And when word get's out about this, I'll loose all credibility as a Professor of para- zoology! And the Indigo League will revoke my Gym status, and-!" "No they won't," replied Vivian firmly, "This isn't your fault, Laurna. We're going to find out who did this. I'm going to have the couriers keep an eye out for anything odd going on, and I've already seen to it that Heidi from the mining guild's arranged for a convenient landslide, blocking off Route 10 as well as having Route 8 declared temporarily unsafe for travel do to ghost activity. Not to mention the fact that I had Angela convince her gyarados to stir up some convenient trouble in the harbor, so anyone who wants to leave Lavender Town early's going to have to get past Frank's roadblock to access Route 12. Trust me, dear; no one's leaving this place without being thoroughly investigated. I'm certain that the whole mess will sorted out by Monday morning." "I hope so," Laurna whimpered, tossing her head onto her sister's shoulder as the show on TV went to commercial, "Because I'm getting really sick so seeing everything I work so hard to accomplish get torn down again and again." "I know," whispered Vivian, giving her sister's hand a reassuring squeeze and shaking her head disapprovingly as the TV screen sudden cleared, and gave them a perfectly clear image for the duration of the commercial that suddenly came on, "But we just need to be patient..." *** On the screen, the commercial began with a view of what appeared to be a children's birthday party, setup in a typical looking but overly decorated backyard. Most of them seemed to be content to run around screaming, followed closely by several obnoxiously cute pokemon who seemed to be there solely to ensure that the product being advertised had the maximum demographic potential. The camera soon panned to one side and showed a distinctly unmotherly looking woman with the usual plastic smile worn by those in commercials and TV weather people. She stood behind a long table, wearing all to fashionable clothes to be someone who raised children, pouring a bright and cheery red liquid from a large class pitcher into several dozen plastic cups. "At my children's party," she explained, so obviously reading from a cue card that it became readily apparent that the woman was an out of work model, "I really enjoy serving them fresh, delicious Kool-Aid. And it's not just because it costs just pennies a glass, or because my children like it so much. No..." At this point the screen darkened as though sun above had been blocked out, and the woman raised her arms dramatically as she threw her head back, laughing manically as she spoke. "No!" she told the audience as thunder and lightning crashed all around her in response to her parental power trip, "It's because I CONTROL THE SUGAR! BWAHAHAHAHA!!!" *** Miranda shook her head in dismay as the show came back on and the screen went fuzzy again. "Ah, surgical steel staples," she muttered to herself, "Is there nothing they can't do?" Laurna smiled and Miranda cringed as the phone rang again in the kitchen. "Bob's got it," Vivian commented, listening intently to her husband's side of the short conversation. A moment later, and Bob had hung up and came back into the living room. "Frank apologizes," he said carefully, nervously brushing his hair from his eyes, "But it was a false alarm. But he says that they should have the town thoroughly searched by lunchtime. Apparently the local ghosts didn't take to kindly to the 'incident' for some reason..." Laurna glanced up at him with an amused look. "I suppose they owe me a few favors," she said modestly with a shrug. "Before you came most people shot first and asked questions later when it came to ghosts," agreed Vivian with a satisfied smirk. "But bullets don't hurt ghosts-" began Bob as his wife's eyes widened and she stopped herself from trying to jump to her feet. "I almost forgot!" she exclaimed, waving over her husband and glancing expectantly at her wheelchair, "I have something I've been working on that I have to give to Frank!" Miranda was caught off guard by her mother's sudden enthusiasm, but recognized the tone in the woman's voice. "You've created something new?" she inquired, pleased to see the creative gleam in Vivian's eyes. Her mother nodded as Bob helped her out. "It's just incase the ghosts get out of hand," Vivian explained with a shrug, but her tone suggested otherwise, "I doubt he'll have to use them." "Them?" inquired Laurna suspiciously, "I hope you haven't cooked up something lethal. Not all ghosts are malevolent, you know." "I'm sure they'll barely feel it," assured her sister, "They'll probably do less than that sword trick Miranda came up with." The courier smiled and bowed her head. "Coating your sword in ectoplasm to affect spirits is hardly a new idea," she replied, "I just set the precedent when I first met Wraith and had to smack him around a bit." "Hey," she added hastily to her Aunt's sudden disapproving look, "it was that or have him take over Vermillion City's entire power grid. Anyway, I'm still a bit out of it from following Zack around all last night, so unless you guys need me for anything, I'd really like to go get maybe another hour of sleep." "No problem," assured Vivian as she turned her chair towards the door, followed by Bob, "Just don't waste the entire day sleeping." "I won't," Miranda promised, struggling to her feet while trying to keep her housecoat in place before giving Laurna's hand a reassuring squeeze, "You gonna be okay?" The woman exhaled slowly and nodded. "Yes," she said quietly, "I just needed a little time to center myself and take my mind of what happened. I dunno, maybe I'll head next door and help with the parade." "Give us a shout before it get's started then, okay?" Laurna smiled and nodded. "I'll have Viper weave an auditory illusion of a thousand cell phones going off just for you," she promised mischievously. "Don't you dare!" Miranda laughed, quickly fleeing before her Aunt could plot further, "I was dreaming about that all morning!" Laurna leaned back against the couch and chuckled quietly to herself. "It's nice to see her laugh again," she commented to the invisible gengar that sat atop the backrest, swinging his stubby legs and clawed feet lazily. 'It is nicer to see you laugh,' Viper replied, projecting the thought directly into his mistress's mind. "Thank you, dear," she sighed, patting the cushion next to her, signaling for the ghost to sit beside her properly, "It's good to know that I'll always have you." 'It is my purpose,' assured Viper cryptically, his voice in Laurna's mind sounding a bit like the hiss of a serpent, 'Even death shall not erase the memories of your kindness, nor my devotion to you.' Laurna smiled and took the small, three-fingered hand that only she could see. "And to me, your still that adorable serpent I loved so much as a kid," she replied, keeping her voice down as the sound of someone coming up to the front door caught their attention. 'I regret nothing,' the ghost said ethereally, smiling happily as Laurna leapt to her feet and practically ran into Frank's open arms as the officer opened the front door, 'My only desire is your happiness...' *** Miranda closed the door quietly behind her before siding the housecoat down off her shoulders as she glided across the room, eager to feel the warmth of her blankets for around her for at least another hour. As Miranda approached, Misty's eyes half opened. A smile crossing her face as she watched the courier pull back the blankets and crawl quickly into bed. "Problem?" Misty inquired, her voice sounding half asleep. "Yes," Miranda admitted warily, setting her glasses down on the nightstand before sliding closer, causing her beloved to sigh contentedly as they embraced one another, "But unfortunately all we can right now is wait." "I think I can handle that," Misty replied with a yawn, her legs entwining with Miranda's seeking the security of her touch, "It's not anything urgent, though, is it?" The courier shook her head thoughtfully. "No," she replied carefully, half wishing that the thieves could have waited until after Halloween to strike, "The damage is done, and the situation's pretty much in Frank's hands now." "So what did happen?" Misty inquired, a certain urgency entering her voice as her wary tone vanished, her expression becoming concerned. "Aunt Laurna was robbed," explained Miranda, hating herself for the sudden look of distress that crossed her beloved's face, "They took every stored pokemon they could find, and the new batch of ghost-balls she was going to sell at the festival. But Frank's certain that they're still in town. With any luck the thieves'll be in custody by tonight at the latest. I wouldn't worry too much." Misty nodded slowly, turning over the information over in her mind. "That's absolutely unforgivable," she said at last, shuffling down at bit to rest her cheek against Miranda's chest, "Your Aunt worked so hard to get where she is today, and then someone comes along and steals her dreams away. That's completely unfair... And those poor pokemon. What about them?" "Given ten minutes and a Phillips screwdriver even I can adjust the 'imprinting' settings on a pokeball, I'm afraid," admitted Miranda, "But by the same token, they can always adjust them back." "There is that," Misty agreed, shuddering involuntarily, "I guess it's just up to your Uncle then. Oh, and before I forget, I wanted to ask you something." "Anything," Miranda responded without hesitation, causing her lover to stop in mid-sentence, a smile finding its way to her lips. "Actually, I was just wondering if I could wear that blouse of yours today." Miranda chuckled, kissing the top of Misty's head lightly. "If you can stand the smell," she chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, "I just wore it yesterday, and I haven't had a chance to have it cleaned." "I know," Misty responded, leaning back and looking up at Miranda with an adoring smile, "I guess I'm just feeling a little insecure. Halloween's the scariest time of the year, and if I'm going to spend it right next to the Tower, I want that extra bit of assurance. Besides, it'll smell like you. It'll be as though you're holding me the entire time." Miranda sighed happily, her hand reaching up to brush Misty's bangs from her eyes. "That's reassuring in of itself," she said with a thoughtful smile. "How so?" Misty inquired, reaching up to take Miranda's hand. "It means that your need to be near me, is as strong as my need to be near you," the courier replied, her voice quavering slightly as she spoke, "It means that I don't worry that I'm crowding you or anything." "As if," chuckled Misty, moving up to give Miranda a playful kiss, "Believe me when I tell you, Miri, I spent a very long time without this type of human contact. I'm not about to let go of it without a fight." Miranda closed her eyes as she pulled Misty closer as she tried to find the right words. "Thank you," she said simply, her tone nearly a whisper, "You know, some times, I wish I could tell you how much I love you." "But you do-" Misty began. "No," the courier chuckled, shaking her head at the thought, "No poet has ever fully expressed the depths of their love for another with mere words. It's a task that no mortal bard has ever succeeded in. Human lives are far too short to ever find every last word to fully quantify my love for you. But I'm willing to spend the rest of mine trying." Misty closed her eyes as she leaned into Miranda, the flood of emotion that overcame her drowning out all other concerns at that moment. "I know you," she said finally, letting go of her grip upon Miranda's shoulders, and feeling a little guilty about the tiny marks her nails left upon the courier's skin, "You'll find a way eventually. And I intend to be here when you do, my love. Because then maybe I can tell you exactly how much I love you in return..."
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