FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

In one of the lulls between test subjects arriving for free snacks, juice, and the furthering of science on a Monday afternoon, Ewan noticed her looking at him.

He wasn't sure why Desiree, the closest thing to the star of the whole show, would take any interest. He was just a human part-time temp in khakis and a leaf-themed button-down shirt. They'd been introduced the past week and seen each other in passing—had she been watching him before and he just hadn't noticed?

If anything, he should have stared at her: a one-and-a-quarter meter tall Salazzle, her slender, lizard-like form having the typical smooth, dark gray hide and purple underside. Flashes of magenta from a pattern on her front stood out, as did the jet-black translator collar around her slender gray neck. A mini-tablet was similarly wrapped around her left wrist. She walked upright whenever he'd seen her, though from her posture and tail she'd likely be just as comfortable on all fours.

Maybe she just didn't have anything better to do while she waited outside Dr. Kana's office. Before he could think to say hi or ask, a straggler came through the door. "Welcome!" he said in his best customer service voice. "Sign in here, please, and then first door on the left. Snacks and juice are free after the test."

"Only with a good grade, right?" The man, tanned and in a tracksuit, grinned at his own cleverness.

Ewan smiled politely as the guy scribbled his name. He'd only heard jokes like that half a dozen times in the past half-hour.

The guy put the pen down. "First door on the..."

"Left."

"Thanks, man."

Ewan filled in the blank date before adding the paper to the stack in a drawer. The juice boxes were perfectly arranged and snacks roughly divided into three bowls. Nobody else was coming in the door, which left him with nothing to do but stand and stretch.

Oh, and check if Dez was still staring.

She'd gone into the office at some point in the past minute. The building was some corporate leftover in that once ubiquitous modern-means-everything-is-glass style. Dr. Kana, as the head of the project, had the former executive office. If they were talking, he couldn't hear; the glass was more robust than the previous tenant's finances. That they could talk to a Pokémon at all was its own feat of science. The translator probably cost a whole year's salary. Then again, the manufacturer had a stake in this research. Maybe it was a kickback.

He wasn't paid enough to know. Or, probably, even think about it. He was just happy for semi-stable employment.

There it was again. Purple eyes slid from the desk, where Dr. Kana was working on something, to rest on Ewan. This time, Dez gave a little wave.

Not sure what else to do, he waved back.

"Looks good, Ewan."

He tried not to jump. "Hey, boss. Thanks." Ailani had stepped out of the door the jogger had gone into. She fit the Alolan stereotype a little too well with a sea-green tank top and flowery casual shorts under her open lab coat. "They starting on time?"

"Five minutes," she said. "Same as before. They get some lovely smells, Dez shows up to mess with perceptions and biases, and then they're back with you on their way out."

He nodded, even though he'd gone through the whole event a couple times now. Good to confirm if nothing else. It was some sort of market research for a new perfume line, or so he assumed. The law forbid using Pokémon moves on humans for research outside extremely regulated circumstances. Apparently, Salazzles had a reputation relating to perfume, and her just showing up would enhance the effect, or fool the testers, or something. He could probably review the research if he asked. Just maybe not when Dr. Kana was flustered about deadlines and sample sizes.

"Alright, just checking in," Ailani said, sticking her thumb back towards the test room. "Back to it."

"Good luck," he said, giving her a little wave. Then it was back to it.

The table might have gotten dust on it, so he swept it with a cloth. A roll of laughter echoed through the closed door. One of the juice boxes was, in fact, a millimeter out of place. He checked his phone; no news, no missed messages, just a quiet afternoon. A lowest-bidder fan rattled somewhere down the hall.

At least he was getting paid.

The time did pass, and all too soon the foyer swarmed with newly released test subjects. He didn't have to hand out the money, at least; Ailani had already done so.

"One snack per person, please," he repeated, having gotten the rhythm down in the earlier sessions. "One snack, one drink, thank you for your participation." The group was at least genial and cooperative. A handful of people tried sneaking an extra, only to have their hands playfully batted by someone before he had to speak up. At least half thanked him.

He had to admit, that felt good. Johto was home, but had its share of stiff manners. Alola had a good deal of friendliness in the everyday.

It didn't take long for them to leave. Cleanup was tedious. The few unused juices and snacks went back in boxes he'd hidden in a storage closet. He was zoned out enough that he didn't notice the tingle on the back of his neck until the voice reached his ears.

"Hi. Can I have a juice?"

He was getting very good at trying not to be startled. "Sure," he said, figuring it was either a straggler or one of the techs he hadn't gotten to know. The voice sounded smooth, even synthesized—.

He turned, trash bag in hand, to see Dez sitting in his chair as she pulled one of the purple juices from the box. Was he supposed to help? No, her fingers worked the straw deftly enough, though she only used it to punch through the foil. It's probably hard for her to suck through it. He knew enough about unconscious bias and the like to reset his expectations. Pokémon weren't animals. He knew better.

Still, it was one thing to know that, it was another to see it. And here she was, tilting her head back and carefully squeezing a stream of juice into her narrow muzzle. A pair of fang-shaped protrusions rose from the sides of her lower jaw, not far from the corners of her mouth.

"There's snacks, too, if you want," he said, bundling up the last of the detritus and tossing it.

She licked her lips, thin though they were, and waved her hand, a flash of dark pink showing from her palm. "Thanks. I ate earlier. I just wanted something to drink." Her tail curled around the back of the chair as she turned to him. "We've been introduced, but I want to make sure I remember right. Even?"

"Ewan," he said, smiling in hopes she wouldn't think he was offended.

"Even—no, I said it right, you stupid... Sorry, this thing doesn't like names," she said, pointing to her collar. She muttered something and her wrist—a band on her wrist, he realized—lit up.

"No problem?"

The lights blinked as she tapped something. "Ewan. Ewan." She chuckled, a throaty sound unlike the translator's voice. "Now it isn't a problem. You should have seen it try Dr. Kana's name the first time. Cone? Khan? Cannot? Very annoying."

He had to laugh. "I can only imagine. How did the, uh, the experiment go?"

Her shrug was quite human. Not surprising, he figured, given her roughly humanoid shape. "Well enough? I'm not sure what they're studying, it all seems... frivolous? No, that's not quite the right word. I get food and a place to stay, so it's not a bad arrangement."

He nodded, remembering something about rows of storage units converted to Pokémon housing. He was about to ask more when the door opened and Ailani stuck her head out.

"Hey, have you seen—oh, here you are." Her eyes went to the box in the Salazzle's hand. "I could've gotten that for you."

Dez waved a hand. "The 'perfumes' were a bit much for me, and I wanted to talk to Ewan here. Get to know him. He'll be helping out more?"

Ailani smiled. "No problem, and I think so, yes." Her eyes went to him. "You did good today, man. I already told you we'd find you more work, and I think this settles it."

"Glad to hear it," he said, feeling some weight drop off his shoulders. He could make rent as it was, sure. It just didn't leave much for saving or spending. "I've just got a few more things to clean. Need anything else?"

"I'll let you know if there is," she said, waving, and then disappeared back into the room.

Dez leaned away from the door. "Smells like someone else's territory, except not in the same way. Very weird. It gets my hackles up."

He tried to wrap his head around that. "Hopefully you don't have to be back in there for very long?"

"No." She tapped her chin, then glanced over to the office; Dr. Kana had returned and was doing something to his computer. "Actually, I don't at all. Perfect." Her eyes settled on him again. "I don't want to keep you. Thanks for the juice."

"You're welcome," he said, smiling as she drained it. "You can leave the box, I'll toss it."

"Toss... oh, in the garbage. You're too kind." She hopped off the chair and started towards the office, reversed course, and held out a hand. "Social protocol, I keep needing to practice that. Nice to meet you, Ewan."

He shook her hand by reflex. "You too, Dez." The skin was smooth, almost silky but for the faintly textured grip of her palm. And warm! So much warmer than he'd expected. "You prefer Dez, right? Or Desiree?"

She hummed. "Both names are nice." Her grip stayed another moment, then eased. "Much better than, 'Hey, Salazzle!' Use whichever you prefer."

"Okay. Um, see you around?"

Her muzzle parted, lips lifting—a grin, he realized. "Count on it. I would love to chat more."

And then she sauntered toward the office. Her tail swayed in a rather sinuous motion behind her, holding his eye until he shook himself out of his reverie and turned back to his work. The empty box got pitched, the full ones stored. Papers were retrieved and clipped together.

It struck him on the walk back to his flat: that was the first real conversation he'd had with a Pokémon. Sure, many were recognized as sapient and communicative. He knew that on an intellectual level. Some had learned human language, others had more simplistic versions of the translator. He'd had plenty of encounters and pantomime exchanges with Pokémon who didn't have either. But that? That had felt like talking to another person.

He wanted to think he'd always treated them as people. Hadn't he? Trainers, breeders, and others would swear up and down about forming bonds with their Pokémon rather than owning them like pets or servants. Then again, their Pokémon. Huh.

Could a Pokémon have a human in the same way?

Wasn't his employment indirectly that?

Now his head hurt. "Silly Ewan," he muttered under his breath. "You'll break something if you dig too deep."

A meal of noodles, a shower, and he was ready for nothing more than a mindless show and then bed. Salazzles were part Fire-type, he realized as sleep took him. No wonder she was so warm. Felt nice. Shame he couldn't have someone to cuddle.

---

The next morning he trudged about doing laundry, dusting, and browsing for temp work he could do on the side. A text at noon from Ailani offered him some work moving equipment, which he eagerly took. The more he did for the lab, the more work they could give him. He quickly got dressed and set off down the path. It was a fifteen minute walk on a good day, which it was. Any cooler and he'd have jogged. Maybe he would on the way home. There wasn't much else to do when the community centers or parks weren't hosting free events.

Ailani let him into the building the minute he arrived. The testing room faintly smelled like... no, he couldn't place the scents. Not floral, not quite woody, and there was some subtle spicy or warm something just at the edge of his awareness. It had probably been easier to place yesterday when it was fresh.

Maybe he'd get a free sample when all was said and done?

"So," Ailani said, moving aside from the two techs wheeling a cart down the hall, "they want us to ozone the air between tests. We would have ruined some equipment in the next room over, apparently, so everything has to get relocated."

"Just point me to the work," he replied, trying not to mentally check out too much. He didn't have to be a scientist to know some of their instruments were delicate.

Two hours later, the machine was running. Ailani stepped out for some meeting and let him know he was on the clock until she was sure they were done, which was nice. The two techs, Jans and Mya, were nowhere to be seen. He never really got to speak to them more than in passing, though they seemed nice enough. Oh well. After washing his face and paper-toweling some sweat from the heavier loads, he retreated to the break room. It had the second-best ventilation in the building—after the executive offices, of course.

He heard the light tap of footfalls in time to not get startled by the voice. "Hey, hold the door?"

"Sure." He thought he recognized her, but had to look after he'd propped it. "Good afternoon, Dez."

She waved and passed by, violet eyes lingering before she nodded towards the cabinets. "Do you know which one has the fruit mix?"

"I was just getting some, myself." He walked over and opened the right one—he'd organized the cabinets a few days ago, not that it guaranteed they were still in order. "Tropical, Robust, or Classic?"

"Hold on." She moved up, and then smoothly, easily vaulted herself onto the counter. He wouldn't have been surprised if she could beat him in an arm wrestle despite having slender arms. That, and even at a crouch she was now eye level with him. "There we go. I do like being up higher."

"Oh, sorry."

"Don't be." Her hand brushed past his—he could feel the warmth even where she didn't touch—and grabbed a bag of Classic dried berry mix. She paused. "Was this rude of me? Apologies. Instincts, I suppose. Maybe next time you can get me food? Very kind of you to offer."

He got another of the bags and shrugged. "No problem. You don't like being handed food, or...?"

"I'm not used to it. Usually it's part of a trade," she said, and patted the empty-looking pouches on her vest. "I don't have much to give at the moment."

"Ah. How about stories? I'm curious how you came to work here." There was a chair behind him, and he turned it around to face her before plopping into it.

A grin came on her face. She sat on the counter, cross-legged with her tail curled around her, and opened the bag. "Always a good trade. I'll tell mine if you tell yours."

"Deal." He took a drink of water from his bottle to give himself a moment to think. The magenta markings on her front were quite striking now that he could see them more clearly. "And if I ask you anything rude, let me know."

"Not likely, and I don't think you're the type of human who'd believe we're all wild animals. Or other... stupidity."

"No, no no." He laughed as he shook his head. "You're definitely not. Okay. Most of what I know about Salazzles is general knowledge. Typically," he said, already realizing how simplistic it sounded, if not stereotyping, "with, uh, mates? A group of Salandit?"

Dez tapped the bag with a slender finger. "I know a term used is 'reverse harem' which is, apparently... bawdy?" A chirruping sort of chuckle rolled in her throat. "I don't see the issue. It's not wrong. Salandit handle sexual needs too."

He hoped he wasn't blushing. "Makes sense." Then again, he supposed, general knowledge wasn't necessarily wrong. Just not always correct for individuals. Finally, some benefit from college. "But not you? Or are they elsewhere?"

"I used to," she said, pausing to pop a berry in her mouth. "My pack was the best in the area. I was always having to put down challengers. Being the best meant the most Salandit, lots of managing them. They might be 'mine' but a Salazzle that doesn't take care of them in turn doesn't make it very far. I decided I wanted to see more of the world, so I worked with my eldest daughter to have her take over."

"Nice that she could do that." He wondered if it was common or not.

"Oh, she'd challenged me a couple times already. She also helped when there were problems, and she treated her own Salandit well. I imagine she's still on top." Dez rolled a berry between two fingers. "Your turn, now. How'd you come to work here?"

He swallowed his own bite and tried not to sigh. "I grew up in Johto and decided to study history at the university in Ecruteak City." He paused, then shrugged. "Honestly, it was a dream of mine to study Pokéanthropology. I read some old legends about humans and Pokémon living together in ancient times and wanted to learn more."

Her eyes seemed to glitter. "That sounds like a worthwhile goal. Is this helping you do that?"

And there it was. He couldn't blame her for making that guess. "Not exactly. I graduated with a degree, but I couldn't find anything good back home. I thought coming to Alola would be a fresh start, find your dream type of thing."

"Oh." She tilted her head. "So this isn't what you want to do?"

"I mean, it's science? It pays the rent? I guess I can't complain."

"Hm. I'd hope you could do what makes you happy, not just what keeps you alive." Her tail shifted as she resettled herself. "I hope the question didn't make you uncomfortable."

He shook his head. "No, no. It's good to talk to someone about it. Too many people have expectations, I guess, about what I should do. Or should have done."

"I think I can relate," she said, glancing towards the windows. "Even after getting a basic translator and tagging myself against capture, too many people—and Pokémon—all assumed because I was around humans, I had or needed a human."

"That's not right. You just want to go your own way, after having been in one place."

"Yes! Twenty-two years in one place, I think I've earned some... what's a good word. Wanderlust?"

He blinked. "We're the same age?"

"Are we?" she asked, head tilting. "I'm thirty years old."

"I'd never have guessed you were... okay, you're eight years older than I am." He blinked again. Pokémon aging wasn't exactly a settled science; many lifespans were roughly equivalent to human, except when they weren't. He wasn't sure what he'd have guessed five minutes earlier. "You, uh, look good?"

"Mm, thank you." The tip of her tail curled over her thigh, and her pink tongue stole another berry into her mouth. "What about you? Any... mate? Partner?"

"No, not since college." He'd had several dates and flings since then, the most he could do on a shoestring budget.

She nodded, her eyes still on him. "I haven't had anything permanent since leaving. Sometimes shared nights with pleasant company, when it can be found."

He watched her eat the next berry, the motion slow. The magenta pattern really stood out against the dark gray and purple of her hide, drawing his eye along her front.

"Sounds nice," he belatedly said, raising his gaze. Was she smiling? Yes, and it definitely reached those gorgeous eyes. It was a nice conversation, and he smiled too.

"So if you could," she said, resting a hand on her leg, "would you look more?"

He blinked. "At... oh, for the, those stories? About humans and Pokémon in the old days?"

"Or other things."

"Absolutely. Anything to do with that. I like technology, don't get me wrong, just that I wonder sometimes if we haven't lost something between then and now, that we have to use tech to bridge that gap."

She hummed, and raised a hand to the subtle collar on her neck. "Maybe. It's doing a fine enough job."

"I'm surprised how well it works," he said. "How did you come by it? If you don't mind my asking."

"Come by? Oh, I see. I did some freelance work to get a basic translator when I first came to human lands. The company wanted to test a new model and contacted me about a discount for helping them. They paid for a ferry trip to Kanto so we could spend two months live-testing it. I got it almost for free. Though, it's taken me a few years to speak so it sounds natural."

"You're definitely succeeding."

Her muzzle opened in a grin. "It's nice to have that spirit of cooperation, like the old stories said. Maybe this is what finally brings our two sides together again." She tilted her head, regarding him. Keenly. "I wonder, sometimes, how close humans and Pokémon became."

He remembered more than a few legends, though most were frustratingly vague on details. "A lot of trade, collaboration. What do your legends say?"

"Not many details, I'm afraid. I'd enjoy comparing our stories." Something on her watch beeped, and she huffed and tapped at it. "Apparently I'm needed for a 'stakeholder meeting' in ten minutes." She shook her head. "Why, I don't know, and we were having such a lovely conversation."

He smiled. "We were! I hope we can talk more."

"I'm sure we will," she said, folding the now-empty bag and setting it aside. Her head tilted as she looked down. "Ah. Could I ask a favor of you, Ewan?"

"Of course."

She tapped a slender finger on the edge of the counter. "I'd forgotten about this edge here. The last time I was up here I scraped myself on it. Very uncomfortable." Her violet eyes settled on him, a slight smile curling her lips. "Would you be so kind and help me down?"

He blinked. "Oh, of course." He rose and stepped up—the counter was an older-style square edge, the angles barely rounded. Something he might never have thought about. He could see how she'd have trouble with her smooth skin; not that she was delicate, mind. It was still a comfort thing. Who was he not to lend a hand?

Up close, he swore he could feel her warmth around her. The pattern on her front tried to grab his eye again. When he raised his gaze she smiled and raised herself to a kneeling position. Her eyes weren't the same shade of purple all throughout, he realized, now that he was within arm's reach. There were shades, striations... whatever the words were, they were beautiful.

He blinked, looked her over. "So, okay. What's the easiest... how do you want me to support you, I guess?"

"Hm. Here." She held out a hand, and when he took it, she placed his grip under her thigh. "Just hold me against you until I can reach the floor."

"Okay." His heart beat faster—he wouldn't drop her, there was no reason to be anxious. Her skin was supple and sleek, not slippery—and the whole of her was like having a cool hand and touching someone's skin under cozy blankets in the winter. Her slender arms rose along his chest, fingers gripping his shoulders. His other hand went to her back as she shimmied closer. Then she was up against him, hooking the leg he held around his hip, leaving the other leg and her tail to hang down below her.

This close, the sussuring murmur of her natural voice reached his ear before the translated word from her collar: "Ready."

He lifted, though it didn't take much with most of her weight already against him. It was much more pleasant than moving equipment. Felt better, smelled better. This close, he could pick out subtle mix of sweetness, warmth, spice... it was like a hint of some exotic incense. Little wonder there was potential for perfume in Salazzle pheromones; he sort of wanted to lean in and take a deeper whiff. Instead, he turned as smoothly as he could, then bent at the knees. He remembered to part them to let her foot find the ground. It was easier to squat as she found her footing, though she held onto him even as her other leg slid off his side.

Her breath tickled against his neck as she spoke again. "Thank you, Ewan, you're very kind."

"You're, uh, you're welcome." The heat of her had spread from his breastbone to his pants. It felt comfortable, natural, to hold her like this... and he should probably let go. She didn't move back until after he'd dropped his hands to his sides. He licked his lips, took in a breath. "Anytime."

"Careful," she said, and he could swear the translated voice sounded a little lower. Or maybe it was just from hearing her own voice layered under it. "I might hold you to that."

He cracked a smile. "I'm just here to help." It was odd, how he sort of missed that warmth now that she'd stepped back.

"And you're a good help," she said, patting his shoulder. "Don't let them work you too hard. Are you still here this evening?"

"No, but I'll be back tomorrow. Late morning, early afternoon."

She nodded, eyes not leaving his. "I should be free tomorrow, if I wouldn't be a bother. I find myself enjoying your company."

He sat back on his heels and shook his head. "You're not a bother, Dez," he said. "It's nice talking to you."

"I'm glad to hear it." She stepped back, then, and he realized they'd been barely a hand's length apart. "Until next time, then."

"Take care," he said, standing to get the door for her. She smiled, then padded her way down the hall, tail and the thin ribbons on each side swaying in time with her step. His mind buzzed with the potential of comparing old legends. Did Pokémon have written stories? Oral traditions? Did it vary by species, by region? So many questions they'd only theorized about in university, and now he could just ask.

Some minutes later, Ailani texted to send him home. A light drizzle chased him the last few minutes of his jog. Talking about the old legends brought his mind back to studying, and he pulled out the few texts he'd brought with him to check over dinner. What started as a minor diversion turned into several hours of skimming back through old translations and oral histories; he'd forgotten how much time he'd spent throwing his wits at deciphering meanings and finding connections. Cooperation was the most recurring theme. Maybe Dez was on to something about working together. Maybe she'd have her own tales to share, passed down through Pokémon generations. Or maybe they'd just have another nice chat.

The prospect of the next day brought him to bed as much as sleepiness.

---

The light was dim in the cave. There wasn't any incense burning, but he thought he could smell something like spice and heady smoke. Pressure, the presence of another being nestled against him; it faded into a suffusing sense of warmth, then back into the press of body against body. His arm tightened around her—it was a her, this other form.

"You're a good help," she said, though he couldn't remember about what. A head turned, formless until a violet iris took shape. Dez. "How much closer can we get?"

"I don't know," he said, his voice muffled by the walls.

A throaty chuckle, and it was her voice, not a digital approximation. "I do." She arched until heat gripped him, coaxed him forward. No need to think twice. No sense in holding back. The world was just the two of them, about to become one. The only problem was her collar beeping incessantly, distracting him from the hot, tight—

Ewan blinked, fumbled at his phone. The memory of the dream scattered. All he remembered was the impression of holding someone. Maybe more, from the stubborn stiffness of his morning wood.

Yep, I'm lonely. Maybe he could look for a date later in the week. Sure, he was cash-strapped, and yet there were events in town and the city was a bus ride away. There had to be options.

Taking care of his lingering erection was a temptation, but not a need yet. He showered and shaved instead. When it tried to make a resurgence under his towel—thoughts of beach bikinis striking as he rinsed his face—he decided to take a long walk before work. Clear his mind, burn off some energy. It was a nice day out. Whether or not the walk would help was entirely up in the air. At least he'd get some sun and steps in before being cooped up in an office.

Ailani met him at the door again. She'd set him up on one of the backup laptops earlier in the week, which he recognized as the one under her arm. "Glad you could make it, we've got a few things to put in lovely, lovely spreadsheets. Thanks for being flexible."

He fell in beside her as she strode down the hall. "I won't turn down good work. What's the deadline?"

"End of the week at most, though it shouldn't take more than the day. Here," she said, leading him into a small boardroom. They had better chairs than the mostly-stripped offices and the utilitarian plastic-and-metal ones in the break room. Within a couple minutes, she'd given him the rundown of the job. "Think you'll be okay? I'm a text away if you need help."

"This should be fine," he replied, tabbing through the folders of anonymized survey responses. "I had to do an entire group project by myself, overnight, back in my second year of university. This is much easier."

She burst into laughter. "I'm sorry, it's just, I've never heard of a school group project going well. That sounds pretty bad though. Did you get a good grade?"

"A few points off for being sleep-deprived, but I did. They didn't."

"As it should be." She checked her watch, and sighed. "I've got to get on a call soon, but please, do let me know if you need help or anything. Or if you start smelling ozone—this should be far enough away, I'd think."

He waved a hand. "Other side of the building, it'll be fine. Good luck."

"You too," she said. "I'll check on you in a bit, yeah?"

Then she was gone, and he dove into the work. Thankfully there were already templates for the data. He put on music about five minutes in, fiddled with the thermostat, and unbuttoned his shirt when the lowest-budget fan could only stalemate the late morning sun coming in the hallway windows.

An hour later, there was a knock on the door.

"Welcome back," he said on seeing Ailani again. Then he blinked: she was holding the door for Dez, who sauntered in with a little wave to him. "And, hey, Dez."

Ailani leaned against the door and gestured to the shorter Salazzle. "I had to drop something off for Dez, and she'd asked if you were here. I figured I'd lead her here and check on you at the same time."

Ewan smiled. "Good efficiency, right?"

"Exactly!"

Dez chuckled. "Knocking down two berries with one rock, I think is the saying."

"Speaking of," Ailani said, "how's the job... Wait." She leaned forward. "You're already halfway through? Okay, yeah. Yeah. You'll be done in no time. I look forward to seeing the results." She pointed a thumb over her shoulder. "I'm buried in my own paperwork, so just drop the laptop at my office when you're done, yeah?"

"Will do," he said.

Dez's tail swayed as she regarded each of them. "I won't distract him, I promise."

Ailani waved it off and turned to leave. "If anything, make sure he takes a break!"

"Hm, I'll see what I can do." Her eyes settled on him with a predator's focus, though the effect was somewhat spoiled by her smirk and casual posture.

"Good to see you again," he said as the door clicked shut. "Though I don't have any snacks to share this time."

"Now, now," she said, a slender hand on her chest and a grin on her muzzle, "I'm not always after food."

He chuckled. "I wouldn't have said anything even if you were."

"Mm. Perhaps you can sate a different appetite of mine," she said, taking another step closer. "I'm quite curious, you see."

He licked his lips, trying to imagine what 'appetite' had her looking so intent. "Um, sure? What is it?"

Her gaze stayed on his, all but holding him in place, before moving to the screen. "Ailani said you were putting data together. I admit," she said, "I'm wanting to better understand the reason for all these tests. Some of the knowledge is... vague?"

He blinked. "Oh. Um, I don't know how well I can explain."

She was close enough to reach out and pat his knee. "I'm sure you'll do fine. So, you're putting together reports on the experiments, and the follow-up from the participants?"

"Yeah. Here's the list of responses, and the fields they want filled out to crunch numbers."

The next few minutes was mostly just explaining in increasing detail; Dez demonstrated a good grasp on the fundamentals. He was thankful that he wasn't surprised at her intellect. She was a person, same as him. What he'd known conceptually was playing out right in front of him.

If she'd been human he might have even made a pass at her. She did have very pretty eyes, and the closer she got the more he had to try not to keep looking at them.

When he showed her a preliminary graph, she took the last step closer and stood on tiptoe to see it better. Her hand went to his thigh; the warmth of the touch felt like it passed through the fabric between them in an instant, and a moment later his pants hardly seemed to be there. Just the gentle pressure of casual contact.

"Need me to move?" Not that he wanted to.

She shook her head, not glancing away from the screen yet. "Not unless you're uncomfortable. Ah, I see." She came back down but didn't step back. "You've been very kind, showing this to me. Sometimes I feel like Dr. Kana is... bothered, or too busy for my questions."

Ewan smiled and, before he could think better, patted her shoulder. "I'm pretty sure he's like that with everyone."

"Hah." The sound came from her throat, not the collar. Maybe it knew not to translate that? Or couldn't? She leaned against his leg and rested both arms atop it like a tabletop. "Another question. I believe both our peoples have a similar custom, that if you enjoy someone's company, you share a meal with them."

He blinked, and nodded. "Yeah, going out to lunch, or dinner. It's pretty common. I'm not surprised Pokémon do that too." There were whole schools of thought about food and social bonding for humans, Pokémon, and both. Negotiations, hospitality, each group had their own courtship rituals...

"Good," she said, her voice quieter and her eyes on his. "It's close to lunchtime, yes? I want to share lunch when you're done with work, if you're willing."

"I am," he replied before he'd really thought about it... no, it was true, he was willing. So why was his heart beating faster? "Maybe we can talk about those old legends."

She smiled, and her tail swayed behind her. "I had the same thought. Getting to know each other better. Closer contact outside of work."

"I'd like that," he said, though part of him noted they were pretty close already. His mouth was a bit dry. The room must be warmer than he thought. "I should be done in a couple hours. There's a noodle place I like about five minutes away? Konikoni Cuisine?"

"A good choice. Here, let me give you my contact." She tapped the screen on her wristband until the contacts showed up, and he held out his phone for the handshake. A moment later, a pair of dings announced success. "Text me when you're going there. Maybe we'll meet on the walk."

"Will do." He put his phone back on the table, and smiled. "So, um. Do you want a seat? I'll have to get back to work, but I don't mind talking while I do."

"Much as I'd like to steal you away from work entirely," she said, "I think Ailani only meant a short break." Her hand patted his knee before she stepped back; the room felt almost chilly where she'd been against him. "I will leave you to the work. I may go for a walk."

He nodded, wishing he could look out the window. The conference room was just at the wrong angle for anything but glare. "It's beautiful weather. I'm a bit jealous."

"Mm. Maybe I should sunbathe." She stretched, back arching; as usual, his eyes started tracing the pattern down her lithe form. Slender, really, but what would look uncanny on a human was perfectly proportioned for her. Not to mention her narrow arms belied a level of strength that could probably wrestle him, if not turn him into a pretzel, if she so desired. There were trade-offs like endurance, of course, not that that mattered now. No, she wasn't human, but her thicker legs gave a nice curve to her hips, and...

His thoughts trailed as she turned, as if showing off. She was watching him out of the corner of her eye, and he'd been looking too long.

"Sorry," he said, trying not to blush.

"For?"

Now he had a good reason for why his throat was dry. "Staring. It's, uh, rude."

Her head tilted, and he chanced to meet her gaze again. "Is it?" If anything, there was a little smile at the corners of her mouth. "Ah, human... rules? Custom? I did have to learn about... etiquette, that's the word." From the staccato sounds of her own voice under the translation, she'd all but had to spell it out.

"It's considered impolite. Or worse, depending on—" He stopped at her raised hand.

"I took no offense, Ewan." Her smile grew, and she put her hand on her hip. "And your attention is welcomed. Is that still rude?"

He took in a breath. "No, I mean. I guess not." The rest of the statement sank in once his brain started working again. "Wait, welcomed?"

"I may not have my own group of Salandit, but I do try to stay well-groomed and fit," she said. "What is the term... you give me flattery?"

"'You flatter me,' usually."

"Thank you," she purred.

He felt the need to continue. "I, ah. I really like your colors? The pattern is very striking. I just, I keep wanting to look." The explanation felt lame. And yet, her gaze was on him, curious and perhaps even encouraging rather than pointed or judging. "I'm not sure I can explain it."

"Another topic to explore over a meal, I think," she said. "If it troubles you, don't think on it."

"It's no trouble."

"Good. I wouldn't want to lose your company over a misunderstanding."

He nodded, and gave his own smile. "Me either. I'm glad we can talk." He swallowed, and nodded again. "I should get back to work for now, but I look forward to our lunch?"

"Of course," she said, and waved a pink palm at him before she turned to head out the door. One last glance over her shoulder, a flash of violet amid dark gray, and then Dez was out of sight.

He took in a breath—the air was tinged with her scent—and tried to examine the churn of feelings inside him. He hadn't expected to feel so off-guard towards the end. Discomfort was pretty easily ruled out. He was, indeed, looking forward to their lunch. Part of him already missed her company, wished she would have stayed and kept chatting. The memory of her warmth, the pressure of her touch, still tingled on his leg.

A question lurked in the back of his mind: how would you describe this feeling?

He didn't know. It didn't trouble him, not in a bad way at least. He took part of Dez's advice and tried not to dwell on it. Work to be done, a lunch to look forward to. He dove back into the data. He wouldn't let himself get distracted.

He finished just as his stomach started to growl, turned in his laptop, and sent a text to the new contact in his phone before he'd even made it out the door.

"See you there!" came the reply a minute later, and he couldn't help but smile. It was still nice out, sunny and not too humid. He'd hate to have arrived at lunch soaking in sweat or drenched by rain.

Before he could think about much more than decompressing from work and the menu choices, he'd arrived. A familiar figure stood near the counter and waved him over.

"Hello again," he said. "Looks like plenty of open tables. Inside or outside?"

"Outside, if you don't mind," she replied, "and I know what I want whenever you're ready. I did some research, and I believe it's custom for the one who asks to pay for the meal?"

"Oh. Um. That or splitting the check."

She tilted her head, but the universal look of realization widened her eyes before he could explain. "I see, each pays for half? No, for their own meals. That makes sense." She pulled up something on her wrist screen. "I'll 'cover the bill.'"

"Oh. Thank you, I can pay for mine though."

"Please. My treat. I don't have too much need for the money they keep paying me."

He thought to push the point, only for a moment. He was getting good enough at reading her to know further protest would meet a very polite, very immovable wall. So he nodded, they put in their orders, got water—his with a straw, hers in a muzzle-friendly glass—and she led him to a table in the shade of a short, frond-laden tree.

"The work went well?" she asked, after they'd settled. There were three chairs, but she'd chosen the closer seat instead of opposite of him.

"It did." He rattled off a few bits of info she'd asked about earlier. "You had a good walk?"

"Very refreshing." She sipped her water, then regarded him. "So. I've done research on human social etiquette in the past, but would you feel comfortable going into more detail?"

He felt a twinge and a flush, but neither one stuck. She'd said he hadn't done anything wrong. There was no blame here. "Sure, if, if I can ask something." When she nodded, he continued, "If a Pokémon was, if you were being looked at, I guess like I did? How would you react?"

"Mm. If you're still worried you did something wrong—"

It was his turn to hold up a hand. "No, I mean, I trust you when you say you welcomed it. I guess... I wasn't expecting that?" Jumbled thoughts and half-realizations were being welded together as fast as his brain could manage. "I think I didn't realize how much I was looking at you, and I'm not used to... well, usually I'm better at not staring."

She hummed in thought. "I hope eye contact isn't staring. I've been practicing that."

"No. I mean..." He shook his head and brought his thoughts back a step. "The best way to explain it is, looking at someone for a few seconds is okay, but too much attention is... well, it's generally seen as rude, or creepy."

Recognition brightened her eyes again. "I think I understand your meaning. If the attention is unwanted, it can be invasive? Threatening?"

"Exactly! Yes."

She grinned. "Our kinds aren't so different, it seems. Yes, if, say, a mangy Arcanine had been sniffing around my territory and wouldn't look away from me? I'd feel like I'm either being 'sized up' or that he wanted under my tail. No, that wouldn't be welcome."

"So that's why... yeah, it's not really different with humans. I'm glad I didn't offend you."

"Not at all. If he was a friendly, handsome Arcanine who was curious about my colors or how smooth I keep my hide, I'd be flattered to have them appreciated." The light in her eyes shifted, and the best word he could think of to describe it was coy. "And if he was particularly handsome, well. I'd show off, flirt. Share a meal. If all goes well, share his company for the night. More so now, that I don't have Salandits."

He had to admit, seeing her as a sexual being was... well, was he really surprised? No, but it was like being able to talk to her: one thing to know it was possible, another to have it all but demonstrated.

She was eyeing him. "Is this an uncomfortable topic?"

"Hm? No... I mean, it's fine. It's still the same with humans, actually. When it comes down to the basics, desirable interest gets reciprocated, and people partner with each other." He shrugged. "It's not uncomfortable, just part of life."

"That's my view as well. I've noticed a lot of humans have... hesitation? That they get embarrassed or nervous when I've mentioned living with my Salandits, for example."

The food arrived, and he mulled it over until the server was out of earshot... that, and he needed a bite before his stomach growled again.

"I think," he said when his mouth was clear, "it's not something that comes up in casual conversation? It's considered a private matter, like washing or relieving oneself."

She shook her head, and swallowed her own mouthful. "Strange. Like you said, it's part of life."

"Some of it is cultural, I guess." He took a sip of water. "A lot of people have different reasons. The most sensible one I've heard is keeping intimacy, sex, from being cheapened. Making sure it stays special."

"That does make sense. Part of the reason I left my group was that sex was often too... what is the word." The sight of her poking at her wrist screen was getting quite familiar. "Transactional? Does that sound right?"

"Like only for status, or territory?"

"Like that," she said, nodding, "and to show favorites, or not show favorites, or because it was expected, or to entice an unsure Salandit into staying. The larger my group got, the less time I actually got to spend just... enjoying the little pleasures that should go with that. But, if I didn't keep a large group, someone else would take my territory and as many of my Salandit as they could keep."

He let out a breath. "I can't imagine that. It must have been hard on you."

She looked off to the distance, and it was the first time he'd seen her look truly wistful. "There were benefits, privileges. Sometimes I wish I could have brought them somewhere better. But, that's the life they were used to." She held up her chopsticks. "It took me time to get used to many things, here."

"Do you regret it? Leaving?"

"No," she said, spearing a dumpling. "I miss them, but I'm still happier here. And not just because of the food."

He chuckled at that. "Well, I'm glad we get to share a meal together."

"I am too. Stories say this is what it was like in ancient times. Pokémon and humans, together. Sharing meals and company."

"There's an old legend that talks about that, eating at the same table. That there weren't any differences between us."

"Oh?" She paused her hunt of another dumpling. "I've heard stories about working together, living together, but 'no differences' sounds specific."

He took another bite as he tried to remember the details. "Yes and no. There's some argument about the translation. The dominant theory is just mutual cooperation, though it could just be a folk tale."

Her eyes were on him, and he got the sense she'd quirk a brow if she could. "You don't sound convinced."

"I'm not. Not that I doubt it, but it just seems... incomplete. It could suggest that there's an evolutionary connection," he said, stirring his remaining noodles into a pile. "Or..."

"Or?"

He shrugged, and felt a bit of warmth in his face. "This is where it gets controversial. One interpretation says the terms used are the same as for marriage."

There was a pause as he took a bite and she finished hers. Then, she nodded. "I believe it."

He coughed. Good thing he hadn't been swallowing. "You do?"

"Of course. Especially if we were more alike back then." She gestured between them. "Even without the translators, a few years of work and I could learn to speak your language, or you mine. Plenty of Pokémon and humans have been lifelong companions, though there's too many Pokémon who look down on dealing with humans, let alone intimacy."

"I hadn't thought about Pokémon seeing us like that."

"They see it as beneath us, or improper, or whatever else."

"It makes sense, though I wish it didn't." He made another mental note to reevaluate his preconceptions—there were problems in assuming everyone was the same, of course, but the similarities did tend to outweigh the differences. His brain caught up with the rest of her statement. "Wait. Intimacy?"

Her smile was slight, more in her eyes than her lips. "Why not? If there were no differences, or not enough to keep from talking and working together, I can imagine sharing a bed as well as meals." The cant to her head was just as subtle as her smile. "Unless you think that would be wrong?"

He opened his mouth, closed it, swallowed, and... shook his head. "Maybe. I mean, I used to," he finally said. "All we heard about was trainers or breeders abusing the Pokémon in their care. Suggesting that humans and Pokémon used to marry started a whole controversy." Only the solidity of the research had saved it from being laughed out of the halls of academia—and even then, it was a contentious school of thought.

"But..." He looked down at her translator, then back up to her eyes. "I think I can believe it happened, if we could communicate back then."

"Mm." She speared her final dumpling, but picked up her water instead. "Do you think it could happen now?"

It was a question he could have answered half a dozen different ways: it's taking advantage, if they can't communicate they can't consent, it's immoral, they're too different. All of which fell flat as he considered their conversations and the admittedly wonderful company he shared with her. If it had been ancient times and a person could talk to someone like her just as easily, or more, why not?

Then, something in her voice, or her gaze, brought his mind to the now. The way she'd been acting towards him, certain things she'd said that he hadn't realized at the time. The more he looked, the more he thought... and there was the way she was still looking at him, and he had to ask, had to know.

"Do you... do you mean, in general? Or, do you, are you asking about..." His heart was keeping pace with his racing thoughts, and even as he wondered if he was reading too much into it, some part of him knew the conversation had been headed this way. "Us?"

There was a moment, a lull even in the light breeze flowing through the patio.

"I admit," she said, the translated voice seeming softer, "I wasn't sure how you'd react if, if I asked outright. If you would be uncomfortable with the idea, or with me."

He started to shake his head, that no, he wouldn't... but had that been true? "I might have been," he started, and had to sigh at himself. "I don't think my reasons would have been any good." He had to laugh a bit. "I'm still not quite sure what I think. But... well, I wouldn't be uncomfortable with you. Not at all. You're a pleasure to talk to, and, and honestly if you were human or I were a Pokémon my only worry would be that you're way out of my league."

Her eyes brightened, though she still tilted her head. "I'm glad we both enjoy our talks. But, 'out of league?' I don't know that expression."

"Oh. Like..." He gestured helplessly before deciding to just lay it out. "That you're too attractive, charismatic, and that I'd be lucky to... hold a candle to you, though that saying that probably doesn't make it clearer—"

Dez grinned and held up a hand. "I actually do know that one."

"Oh."

She nodded, and those violet eyes caught his focus once more as she leaned a little closer. "And, I'm flattered. What if I said that I found you handsome, and enjoyable company, and that 'league' wouldn't matter?"

He didn't expect to suddenly be smiling. "I'd be flattered, too."

"Good," she purred, and raised the dumpling to her muzzle. His attention shifted to the way her pink tongue slowly curled around it, pulling it off the chopstick and into her mouth with what he probably realized was a deliberate show.

He tore his gaze back to her eyes. "So, um." It took effort to wrangle his imagination away from ideas of what that tongue could do. "Not uncomfortable, just... I hadn't really considered it possible. I don't want to move too fast, if that makes sense?"

"You can always take time to think." A chuckle rolled in her throat. "You're not a Salandit in my territory, so I won't even ask you to prove yourself to me."

He got the sense combat wasn't the only thing they had to prove, and had to chuckle as well. "I'm definitely planning on thinking about it."

"About it, or about me?" The borderline predatory gleam in her eye was back.

He licked his lips, and scooped up the last noodle. "I'd be lying if I said it wasn't both."

"Mm. Much as I want to tease you, I'll behave."

"Thank you," he said. "Though you make a very tempting offer."

She hummed, and turned in her seat to better face him. He was getting better about not letting his eyes wander, though that was sorely tested when she rested an arm on the table and raised herself until she knelt more than sat.

"I remember saying I had no objections to your eyes on me, though." Her tail curled partway around her legs, teasing at his peripheral vision. "I enjoy your attention, your curiosity. More, if you're willing."

He swallowed back an apology, knowing it wouldn't be wanted or accepted. For a few moments he was able to keep his gaze above her shoulders before the bright pattern—and a bit more movement from her hand and tail—drew his eyes. Emboldened by her permission, he glanced over and between the pair of wavy, smoke-like lines of pink on the sides of her belly; the darker purple was fetching, too, from her chest all the way down the inside of her well-toned thighs. He tried not to let his view linger there.

The resolve never got off the ground, especially when she stretched again, slow and sinuous. He tried, at least, not to stare between her legs where her tail met her body. He didn't make a habit of staring between anyone's legs, even though Pokémon tended to not wear clothing. A semicircle of pink where the underside of her tail met her, well, groin area—no, he couldn't make out any details, not without getting closer. Too close for being in public.

He realized he was staring. He realized he would have kept doing so, save for the worry that someone else would see him doing it; she'd already given her blessing, of course, and he was surprised how little conflict he felt in himself at the whole situation. How quickly he'd gone from not considering it possible to practically eyeing her up after she'd bought him dinner.

She hadn't been watching his face this time, he realized as he brought his gaze back up. He wasn't aroused enough to show anything. She didn't seem to mind.

"So," he finally said, breaking the silence between them. "I'll have a lot to think about."

It was an amusing reversal, for her being the one to tear her eyes away. "I haven't scared you off, at least." She grinned, sat back on her heels, and reached for her water. "I'm free tonight and tomorrow, if you come to a decision."

He licked his lips. Tried not to squirm in his seat. He needed more than a couple hours. "I have some work tomorrow, maybe dinner or something after?" It felt inadequate to leave it at that. "We could talk more, if nothing else."

She patted his hand on the table. "I understand. I don't want either of us to have doubt or regret if we choose to act."

"As it should be," he said, nodding. His thoughts started to un-jumble, whether from the release of tension or from fading excitement. "Yeah. I can believe ancient humans and Pokémon got along this well."

Dez hummed and smiled. "If not better. For now, we could call it a day?" Her eyes glittered. "Unless you want to keep staring. I won't object."

He coughed. "Tempting, but I don't want to push my luck. Here," he said, taking their plates and stacking them. He did end up watching her stand and stretch, and didn't flinch when he saw she was watching him from the corner of her eye. They walked together until the street met the thoroughfare, where they had to go separate ways.

"I enjoyed our conversation," Dez said, turning to him with a smile. "And, if you'll forgive my presumption, the potential for more."

"I did too," he replied, and went to one knee. "I have a lot to think about. You're... very, very beautiful." On a whim, he bent down and opened his arms. She slipped into the hug quite easily, the press of her slender body immediately warming wherever she touched.

He felt her chuckle as much as he heard it. "You're lucky I'm trying to behave," she murmured, breath tickling his neck. She held the embrace a moment more, then slowly moved back.

It was interesting how much he missed that comfortable heat.

"I look forward to hearing from you," she said, a smile on her muzzle. "Even talking is enjoyable."

"Definitely soon," he said. That was that, and they turned to leave their own ways. A small, daring part of him wanted to go back, sweep her up, and see what she could do when she wasn't behaving.

Instead, he decided to go down to the park trail for a good workout.

---

An hour of jogging had two benefits: it burned off the edge of energy he hadn't realized he'd built, and it gave him time to let his thoughts just drift around. No conclusions, no decisions, though he hadn't been looking for either. Just a light burn and endorphins from exertion.

After rinsing off, he turned the shower to its mist setting and relaxed under the warmth. Mostly. The rush of the exercise, lingering tension, and a bit of extra washing made for a stubborn erection. There was always a cold shower to decide matters. It had been a few days since he'd treated himself, and he did want a clearer head...

"Fuck it," he muttered, shaking water off his arm and reaching for the bottle of lube on his sink counter. Once slick, his hand glided over his shaft, and a soft groan left his lips at the immediate surge of pleasure.

Probably not safe to think of Dez. He just needed to let off steam. A svelte beach-goer in a red bikini? Purple, purple was a nice color. A good tan, and of course needed help with her back. The fantasy gal was already topless, the bikini laying under her chest. Might as well get the bottom too. Were there nude beaches in Alola? Private beaches? Probably. They were on one of those, then.

Ewan leaned against the wall, stroking faster, squeezing, moving the fantasy along to the sex in his head. From behind first, but then she turned around because her tail... wait, what?

He pushed Dez out of his mind and kept stroking. The more he thought about the fantasy woman, the more he realized she didn't have much bust—not at all a deal-breaker—and happened to be shorter, strong thighs... and then he imagined violet eyes or slender fingers and it was Dez again.

Well, why not?

She wrapped around him—his other hand worked over his head and tip—and his hips started pushing into the grip. He was panting now, as much as he had been on the trail, hands working faster despite his best efforts to make it last. His knees shook when he squeezed his base, rubbed over his balls like he imagined her tail would, bucking forward to bury himself...

His moan was probably a bit loud, but he didn't care. He was too busy spurting against the wall in front of him until he worried his legs might give out. Damn, I needed that.

And, fuck. So much for clearing his head of Dez.

He sighed and rinsed down the wall, the floor, himself. Wasn't 'post-nut clarity' a thing? It wasn't something he could exactly talk freely about. But, was it wrong to want her? She could speak, she could... well, do a lot of things, really.

He wanted to see if she would be comfortable to cuddle. Warm, smooth...

"Down, boy," he sighed.

At the very least he had room to think again, and decided to do some poking around. A general search about human-Pokémon relationships seemed a good start; half the results were about your garden-variety platonic trainer or breeder friendship bond and whatever. Refining the search found controversies, arguments, news articles, tabloids, and clickbait. A scattering of blogs and the like talked about it, though he felt like taking another shower after a train your Pokémon to want sex post. Gross.

The search wasn't all bad, though. Someone identifying as a woman shared how her Ninetales had enough Psychic ability to clearly communicate his desires to her, and to pick up on hers; cue a nearly decade-long ongoing relationship. Other gems in the rough had similar stories: whether by learning the other's language, telepathy, or now by way of translator, a connection could be made. It ran the gamut from one-time flings to marriage in all but name.

The rest, of course, was porn. He wasn't all that surprised. A few things looked legitimate—some company called Violet Enterprises made it their business model, with a whole ethics statement and what looked like top-grade films in their lineup. Half of the advertising even seemed directed at Pokémon, not people. He almost wanted to buy one and see if it was as good as it claimed. Many of the other results, well. He didn't want to ponder how much of that content wasn't above board.

Next topic, then. He glanced at the time, and pulled up the contacts in his phone.

"Hey Dez," he typed. "Thanks again for lunch. I've been thinking a lot, and you're definitely on my mind." Hopefully that wasn't too cheesy. "Do you still want to meet again tomorrow? Just a couple questions, talk more, maybe see where things go?"

A general overview of Salazzles was marginally interesting but had nothing new. Fire/Poison, generally had groups of Salandit, no recorded males, and so on. "How to feed and care for" guides covered more ground. Personality and demeanor ran the gamut. Wild-born ones tended to have more hierarchical inclinations. For trainers and breeders both, sometimes they would try to recreate their 'reverse harem' with other Pokémon; rarely, they tried with humans, though the language indicated it was dominance struggle.

No mention of sex. Not that anyone would freely admit to it, at least openly, he imagined.

Interestingly, the issue of pheromones was raised multiple times. He never put stock in rumors about Pokémon—Shedinja wouldn't suck your soul out if you looked at the void in its back—so he'd never really thought about Salazzle's apparent reputation. No, they could not control males' minds; the pheromones were only effective on Salandit. Every single warning stated they were essentially a Poison attack and that, no matter what you'd heard in the locker room or online, it was not a sexual enhancement or love potion and it could make you sick.

"Huh," he said, and clicked back to an article from a week ago. Suspicion of Pokémon-Derived Aphrodisiac Prompts Regulatory Investigation. So clearly there was a market for it. Searching within the less-sketchy discussion boards for pheromones had some questions, some anecdotes, and a couple stories warning about the toxic side effects but swearing they'd never felt hornier.

Hardly a shock that companies would want to exploit that effect, if it existed.

At least he wasn't being mind-controlled. No, he was just falling for a Salazzle, someone of a different species. Not to mention maybe two-thirds his size at best. There were still a few questions beyond all that. None of them resembled anything like should I not even consider this? If that was supposed to concern him, he wasn't finding good reasons why.

It was mid-afternoon when a notification ping drew him away from the dozen open browser tabs.

"You're welcome, Ewan. Good to hear from you. Tomorrow I'm doing work, too, it turns out. I'm free in the evening." And a sly-looking Salazzle Pokémoji, of course.

He had to smile. Dinner would be a nice option. Or... "How about a botanical trail walk? We could do dinner first or watch the sunset, depending on timing."

He relieved himself and downed a glass of water before the reply arrived.

" __Watching the sunset sounds lovely. I can meet you any time after 6:30?"

He looked up the route to the trail entrance. "7, and I'll send you the address." A few quick taps did just that. "Looking forward to seeing you."

"You, too."

He took a break from the screen and flopped on the couch. He'd have to look for some gig work later in the night to fill the hours. For the time being, though, a nap sounded good.

---

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