FSE

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The red-topped transparent sample pot stood on her desk, heavy enough to remain still in the constant cyclone wind of Clarice's air-conditioning stacks. The contents shone within, in the room's stark white lighting.

Clarice smiled, actually smiled with satisfaction. The day was going well. All parameters were within expectation and required no adjustments. The disgusting warmth outside hadn't been so bad, today. Nothing had reminded her of any of her horrible memories and October had delivered his sample pot at last. Once they'd sent that out to their breeding agency associates, Pro² Creation and gotten it analysed, they could see some crimson-Ninetales studding fees and that bothersome acquisition of theirs would finally make the Café some decent money, she was sure.

Her paws dancing with surprising agility over the human keyboard, never having needed one of the special, spread-out, quadruped varieties, Clarice finished the morning's data entry from the various departments she had persuaded not to move towards direct digital processing. She didn't want them messing up her systems, after all. They knew how to run a brothel resort, she alone knew how to make the numbers work as a business, as far as Clarice was concerned.

With a quiet huff of satisfaction, Clarice nodded to herself, then slowly turned to the sample pot, with a slow smile spreading truly across her face. He was finally coming into line. That filthy, magnificent beast's balls would be doing her spreadsheets a world of good. Firenze was right. He was always right. Her smile grew.

Clarice had a well-earned reputation for prudishness... chastity, almost, even beyond that of Elegance, the Morning Shift's difficult (but, as far as Clarice was concerned, financially beneficial) Mienshao. She didn't play with anyone, never showed interest in anyone, was never so much as nice to anyone, showed active disgust for all of the frollicking fun that the staff routinely and unprofitably had with one another and with her role as cold-hearted disciplinarian and executioner of poorly performing employees, it was fair to say that the very idea of Clarice having a libido was a dark and forbidden thought to most. Including herself.

Still, her paw slowly moved towards the lid of the pot, that symbol of a great wild beast finally being tamed, before she was even fully aware of what she was doing. Her eyebrows raised, almost impishly, though internally, she kept a serious dialogue.

Well, one really had to check up on October's work. Her paws found the red plastic top of the transparent sample pot. Her head crept closer.

One never knew what that pesky red Ninetales would- Her claws found the edge and peeled the pot open. There was a loud, sudden high pitched 'poof' noise, a sudden hissing noise, a puff of flame and seed came splattering out of the pot as if under pressure.

Wide eyed, Clarice hastily slapped the lid back on, hugely, her slate grey, white-irised eyes comically wide behind her thick-lensed glasses. Which, being close to the explosion, were now spattered with incendiary seed, which sputtered and steamed all over her office and shocked face.

* * *

It had taken October a lot of work. First he'd persuaded Chai to 'obtain' him some Platinum. This the shady Umbreon had done, hesitantly at first, but triumphantly on his return, looking very pleased with himself as he spat the earring onto October's bed. He had been horrified though, when October had melted and spaghettified it, then woven it into a mesh with his claws. It had been very fiddly work, but he'd knew it would be worth it.

Then he'd half-filled the sample pot. This would have been the most boring part of the entire operation if not for Chai's help.

October was embarrassed to have only recently discovered Chai's talent for oral sex, with the pair of them enjoying frisky feral mountings as much as they did. He had in fact found that out in Coco's office, recently, when they had been left alone in it, which had been rather fun...

So it was a pleasure indeed to have Chai work at him again... the Umbreon applying the same reckless, yet sensuously forceful approach to oral (a recently discovered talent, as far as October was concerned) as he did to anal (skills which October had, by contrast, made heavy use of) as that devious and masochistic Umbreon practically threw himself throat-first upon October's ebony shaft. He had used an alternation of fine muscle control and excessive force to work the Ninetales up... just enough so that when he pulled off - messily, trailing saliva and pre - he had firmly grabbed October's shaft (by the knot) between his forepaws, he only had to aim the gasping, panting, air-humping Ninetales and smirk up at him with a very satisfied expression for his work as October had noisily overfilled the pot!

That was just the beginning. Then October had stolen glassware from the kitchens himself in order to utilise concentrated Will-o-Wisps and his own breath to glasswork them into simple laboratory equipment, in which he could easily exhaust the supply of oxygen within via the use of wisps. This was all so that he could effectively fractionate and evaporate diethyl zinc out of fuel oils he'd siphoned from the Café's own generator in the basement.

He installed the platinum mesh in the sample pot, making sure it was well braced, then he took the methanol he'd stolen from the cleaning supplied cupboard and filled the sample pot, making sure to mix the methanol with the seed thoroughly and ultimately decided to add some thickening agent from the kitchen before ensuring that the platinum mesh was just barely concealed beneath the surface tension of the fluid.

Then he'd pumped in the diethyl zinc by slowly melting and collapsing his homemade chemistry set into a glass sphere atop the braced sample pot. He had to wait his exact moment to find the right viscosity and temperature balance of the sphere before shoving both forepaws in, sheltering the lid. Sealing the pot had been the hardest part and he'd gotten molten glass everywhere, leaving odd shapes in burned craters about his room.

But, it was enough.

The pot stood.

It was ready.

* * *

Clarice looked around blinking, as the seed dried itself, unnoticed on her face and around the office. There was a strong, very strong smell of October in the room. It was like you could feel his presence... the odour was musky, male, magnificent and... flammable.

"Oh my, oh my," said Clarice, giggling slightly, "Oh my, that's good stuff, it's goood stuff," she chuckled.

She had just about gotten her mirth under control but was still smiling when the door burst open.

Coco burst in. Often referred to as the 'Light Side of HR' compared to Clarice's supposed 'Dark Side,' Coco was a cream coloured, chocolate-trimmed Vulpix of slightly above average height, the matured Vulpix of unusual colouration having lost little of her cuteness in her apparently natural advancement towards Ninetaleshood.

Her impenetrably deep, dark, red eyes were wide and alert, her skittering, alarmed posture and raised forepaw indicated she didn't know what to expect. "What in Arceus' name was that noise?" she asked smartly, apparently observing the situation and getting command of herself quickly, looking up at Clarice for an explanation.

"October's sample," said Clarice quickly, blinking, feeling as if she'd been caught out, "I was just... checking it."

Coco looked around the room, blinking, "..All over the walls?"

"...It's potent," said Clarice, "Gonna make us a fortune."

"Potent?" said Coco, tilting her head at the Glaceon and frowning, "What were you doing with it?"

"I wasn't doing anything," said Clarice, lamely, awkwardly, "I was just checking it, to make sure he hadn't sent something stupid and..." she trailed off.

"...and..?" prompted Coco.

"It exploded," said Clarice.

"Exploded," said Coco, raising her eyebrow further.

"Exploded," said Clarice.

Coco frowned, staring at the Glaceon, then the suspicious looking sample. Oddly enough, there was some kind of metal, in there. She tilted her head.

"Clarice," said Coco, "There's something in there! October rigged his sample, somehow!"

Clarice blinked. Several times. Very apparent through those thick glasses. "Oh," she said, "I uh... I... never mind."

Coco raise an eyebrow again, but a smile began to form slowly on the Foxes' muzzle as she analysed her counterpart, "Clarice..." she said slowly, "did you think that was a normal sample?"

"I uh... I uh," began Clarice...

It was extremely unusual to see the usual ice-cold and stoic Clarice off-guard and stumbling like this, thought Coco. It was pretty amusing, too. The vulpine's smile grew. "You did, didn't you?" she asked, teasingly.

"Well," Clarice brought up her paw to pretend to adjust her glasses, trying to pretend as if she wasn't flustered, pausing as she spoke, "That's what it, uhh... A Ninetales, that's what it's... Look, forget-"

"That's what it feels like to YOU, Clarice," said Coco, flatly, with a growing and darkly smug smirk upon the Vulpix's face, wondering if this confirmed certain rumours concerning Firenze...

Clarice reddened. It was a fascinating and hilarious sight. "Don't you speculate like that," she said flatly, "That's none of your business."

"Right Clarice," said Coco, with a smirk, "You know what? Pouncer's right. October does stir things up. Can't believe you fell for that, though, were you seriously gonna send that sample on..?"

As she spoke, Coco casually strolled across the room and hopped up onto the typically fearsome Clarice's desk without a care in the world. Inspecting what she considered to be a spent trap closely, she decided to open up the pot to try and guess what October had done, here.

"I mean," began Coco, holding the pot in both paws to peel off the lid.

There was a loud poof, as the aerosolised vapours once again exploded in the presence of oxygen. There was a tiny fireball and a rain of seed and methanol in all directions. Many of those directions were currently Coco.

Coco's eyes were comically wide. Covered in spatter, she was left with an almost empty pot, with a glowing metal grille inside of it, softly roaring in the air / vapour mix.

Clarice let out a single, "Hah!" at the Vulpix's expense.

Coco frowned, then sighed, bodily, sagging down as she frowned. "You know," she muttered, "if he put this kind of effort into his work..."

* * *

Never in the history of all of Café Plaisir had any Pokemon put so much work into not filling a Sample Pot.