The whole world was ablaze.

Blistering air scoured Tally's scales. Summer swelter melded with the rippling heat waves off the conflagration before her to set every breath aflame. Terribly familiar crackling underscored the wail of the fire truck's siren, the shouted orders of the captain over the radio, and the morbidly excited babble from the crowd of onlookers.

Gotta stop it.

She braced herself, firming her stance and continuing to blast jet streams of water at the apartment building, pooling her efforts with those of her squad. They were focused on the sides of the doomed apartment, preventing the spark from jumping to the next buildings in the row. Thick black smoke roiled, its foul stench permeating the hot gusts sweeping out from the inferno. A chunk of roof collapsed. Orange tendrils reached out for the vulnerable shingles of the neighbouring building.

Hell no.

Her full force Hydro Pump hit the hole square, slicing the flaming claw off at the wrist. Steam and smoke billowed up, but the danger of that section was past, for now.

"Nice shot, Dozer!" someone called—might've been Jerry, but she didn't bother to look, merely nodded. Drawing a quick breath after the powerful attack, she looked for another spot where her squad needed help, found a corner that was beginning to smoke, and blasted a more focused stream. Amon and Alex, the twin floatzels working on that section, glanced over in tandem, gave her a thumbs up, and spread out their own efforts.

From the front entrance of the building, an arcanine burst forth at a run, trailing smoke and sparks, a man and a woman on his back. He bounded up to the captain, allowed his coughing passengers to slide to the ground, and barked. "First two floors clear, sir!" came his voice over comms, broadcast by the translation collar he wore in both human and his native tongue. "No access to the third—both stairs are blocked."

"We've already got most of the third." Captain Park gestured to the ladder truck, which had its metal arm extended to a third floor window, through which Andy—one of the human firefighters—was assisting a small girl and her mother to safety. "In fact, that'd be the last of them. Good work, Riot."

Riot barked an affirmative, his fluffy tail wagging. The mutt was forever perky, but she had to admit he did good work, for a fire type. The ability to ignore flames was one she was a bit envious of.

"Captain!" Andy, waving from the top of the truck as he helped the mother and daughter. "She says there's one more, their neighbour!" He pointed to the window right of where the ladder was positioned. "In there!"

"Shit." Captain Park probably didn't mean to broadcast the expletive, but the whole squad knew what he meant. The third floor was in the worst shape, the building's roof on the verge of collapse. If this person hadn't made it to the window, then they were unconscious, trapped, or worse.

"Get the ladder in position. We check, and if we don't have a visual we're not going in. Riot can't get up there."

An icy claw gripped Tally's chest. The captain's orders were sound. Correct. Procedural. Without Riot, that third floor was a death trap, and arcanines couldn't do ladders.

But…

Fuck that.

"No time! Lao!" Breaking off her dousing, she ran for the burly blastoise next to the truck, his cannons trained on the steadily degrading roof of the building. "Lao!"

"Huh?" He glanced at her, his aquatic assault wavering slightly. "What's up, hot stuff?"

"Do your thing. Get me up there!" She jabbed a claw at the third floor window next to the ladder.

"Damn, girl, the third floor? What do you take me for, a bloody machamp? 'Sides, Cap said—"

"Just do it! My problem, and I'll make the rest."

Grumbling under his breath, the turtle shrugged, cut the flow of his cannons, and lumbered in front of her, raising his arms over his head. "You're gonna put me in the center one of these days, y'know."

"Send me the bill." Crouching slightly, she grabbed his proffered claws, gripping tight.

"Alley-oop!"

A grunt of effort. Lao yanked, jerking her up and forward, tucking and hurling with all his considerable might. Tally flew, the Seismic Toss propelling her like a bullet straight at her target.

Almost.

"Ah shit."

She met the fake stone side of the building with a horrendous crash, several feet short of the window. Her head bounced off of scalding plaster, the sickening sense of gravity tugging her down, down, even as she reached for her goal…

"Tally, what the fuck! I said—"

No time. Her flailing claws caught the ledge. Dug into wood. Held. The scales of her belly hissed, her skin cooler than the surface it touched, slowly scalding her. Protesting shoulder muscles heaved, dragging her up…

She was in, tumbling through the blown out window, ignoring the shards of glass that sliced at her hide. Nothing broken, no serious cuts, and she was in.

"Dammit Dozer, I swear if you die in there, I will write your ass up!"

She snorted a laugh, a grin tugging at her muzzle as she yanked her mask and tank off her duty belt and pulled them on, keying her own collar's mic as she did.

"Sorry Cap, it's been too long since my last insub."

"Just find the guy."

"You got it."

Cool oxygen flowed into her mask—modified to fit over her elongated muzzle and headfins. She coughed, clearing the smoke from her abused lungs, and scanned the room. Smoke so thick, she could barely see her own claws. Bright orange flames on all sides. What was left of a bed, merrily burning. No sign of a body.

Straight ahead, an opening yawned in the flames—a roiling wall of smoke. She plowed through, wincing as tongues of flame lapped at her arms, sides, head. Her entire being felt parched, every pore leached of moisture until her skin felt like it would flake away into dust. After this, she would need a long, long soak…

Burning rubble marked tiny pyres among the clouded chaos of what had once been a mid-sized apartment. Sections of the ceiling had already collapsed, exposing support beams wreathed in flame. She had minutes at most to find her target and get out. Left; the gleaming metal of a fridge, ringed by burning shelves and cupboards. No bodies on the tiled floor. Right; a small bathroom, mostly intact due to the excess tile and metal, but clearly empty even through the veil of smoke. In front of her, a sofa and chair burned, their artificial fabrics quickly turning to ash. Where, where, where…

There! Against the far wall, a collapsed section of ceiling trapped a prone form. Tally leapt on all fours, clearing the distance in two bounds. A man, mid 20's perhaps, with medium length wavy black hair and a scraggly beard. His head lolled, but his chest still moved in ragged breaths, gasping in fumes. His legs were stuck beneath the burning debris, possibly damaged, but she had no time to be gentle.

Taking a quick breath, she lifted the mask and shot a quick blast of water at the pile, dousing it into smoke and smouldering plaster. Some of the spray splattered the man's face.

His eyelids fluttered.

"Wha? Whozat?"

"Don't worry, I'm gonna get you outta here!"

For an instant, his dark eyes met hers. No way to tell if he understood or not—he was clearly delirious—but he was alive.

From above came an ominous groan. Tally looked up.

"Shit."

One of the support beams was completely engulfed, and the roof was sagging as it degraded. No time.

Hydro Pump!

It was weak, pitiful compared to her efforts outside. She barely managed a stream as thick as her forearm. Yet it worked, the blast of water slaying flame all along the length of the beam, beating back the inevitable—

CRACK!

The beam split under her assault. Half of it fell with the accompanying ceiling plaster, right towards her and the man. Tally roared, throwing her arms wide over her charge and dropping her head, bracing herself for the crushing blow.

It felt like the hammer of a god striking her, making her see stars. Pain flared through her shoulders and back, pinpricks racing up and down her spine. She grunted, heaved…

CRACK!

The weight on her shoulders abruptly vanished, the beam splitting in two once more, half crashing to her left, the other half—

A sharp, smaller crack, followed by a shriek of pain. The final piece of the beam landed square on the debris covering the man's legs, spraying him in dust and ash.

"Dammit!"

Shaking off the wooziness, Tally seized the offending beam and heaved it aside, its weight feeling no more than that of a stick. Her inner waters burbled with new life, spurred by the adrenaline in her blood, the inherent danger she was in. They were out of time.

"Sorry about this!" Flipping her mask back in place, she grabbed the man beneath the arms. His head was lolling again. Good, better if he wasn't conscious for this. She'd already gotten him hurt once. A firm yank, and he was free of the debris, the bottom part of one pant leg wet with blood. She tucked him over her shoulder in a classic carry, and spun for her exit.

"Boys, I'm gonna need a soft landing!"

"You got him?" Captain Park, sounding a touch out of breath.

"Yeah, but he's in bad shape. Don't know if I can get him down the ladder."

"Get the net! Move, move!"

She was already running, though the order hadn't been meant for her. A blast of water cleared her path, dousing the blazing doorway to the bedroom. Ten steps. Five. Three. The broken window beckoned, its edges weakened by her entry and the fire.

"We're in position!"

Just in time. Dropping the man into her arms and cradling him, she dropped her shoulder and tauros rushed right through the remains of the window. Wood and glass exploded outward with a blast of smoke, sparks, and charging feraligatr. There was no pain: only the whistle of air, the sickening feeling of gravity tugging her down, and her frantic rolling about to fall backwards, protecting her charge.

"Back, back! Catch her!"

She closed her eyes, gritting her teeth. If she'd jumped too far, or if they weren't fully ready, this would REALLY hurt.

Thick mesh slammed into her back, knocking the air from her lungs in a gasp. Her grip tightened on her charge as her squadmates pulled the net taut, fighting her downward momentum in a sickening instant of opposing force. She flew once more, her stomach dropping away, and then, with another mighty smack against her back, she fell safely into the embrace of the net. A sharp twinge of pain from her tail—another sprain. Great. Hopefully this one would heal straight.

"Tally, are you alright?"

They were lowering her to the ground. She opened her eyes, meeting the stern glare of captain Park from beneath his helmet's clear visor. She nodded.

"Good. We'll discuss this later. Now, get off your ass and get that guy on the stretcher."

Hands and paws found her shoulders, Lao taking her under the arm to help pull her to her feet as she cradled the injured man—still unconscious. Lightheaded, she wobbled a little as she walked to the waiting stretcher, Lao steadying her. Gently, she laid the man down on the white mat, careful of his dangling leg. The hovering paramedics took over, an audino and two humans in blue uniforms securing the patient and rushing him into the ambulance.

Lao's heavy paw thumped her shoulder. "Goddamn, girl, you've done some crazy shit, but that jump was epic!"

Tally hid a wince, stripping off her mask and flashing the blastoise a toothy grin. "Did I look cool?"

"Hell, you looked like some fucking superhero. Channel 9 got it all too." He nodded over beyond the barriers, where a news truck was parked, a human reporter gesturing to the scene and speaking into a camera. "Insub or not, you done good." Leaning in a bit closer and covering his mic, he murmured, "Hot as hell too. Just about jizzed myself watching you fly outta that window."

Chuckling, she shoved the smaller 'mon—unsuccessfully, thanks to his sturdy build—and spun about, facing the burning building. "Save that for later. We've still got work to do."

"Nah." Lao waved at the structure, which was now fully engulfed in flame and smoke. The pumper truck was still at work, dousing the buildings on either side, but all of the pokémon had withdrawn, and were recuperating in a group near the ladder truck. "Chief arrived when you were inside and called it. You got the last resident, accordin' to the landlord. From here, we just gotta make sure it don't spread."

Tally nodded. The pumper truck could handle that alone. The building wasn't so large that a single water cannon couldn't cover both sides. The blaze would continue for some time yet, but the critical period was over and done. They'd won. Zero loss of life to the flames.

Sadly, the same couldn't be said for limb. She winced at the memory of the horrific splintering sound of bone. Stupid! She should've just grabbed him and ran. She'd been cocky, assuming that she could stop whatever fell. Sure, she'd pulled him from the fire, but who knew how long he'd be recovering from those injuries, half of which could have been avoided…

Once again, she'd been too slow, too weak. Once again, the fire had taken something away which could never be reclaimed.

Motion caught the corner of her eye. On the edge of the crowd, a short, squat pokémon was sidling between the onlookers. A conical, mud-brown head terminated in a narrow muzzle. Striated yellow markings reminiscent of flame danced across a sturdy crimson body. Heavy digging claws prodded a path.

Tally stared, a shudder running down her spine. Their eyes met for an instant. She'd taken a step without realizing, but the heatmor was already turning away, scurrying off through the crowd.

"Somethin' wrong, Dozer?"

"Uhh, nothing, I guess." It wasn't him. It wasn't. That had been a long time ago. "Just the adrenaline catching up, I think."

"Huh." Lao inspected her for a moment, then followed her gaze, but the heatmor was gone. He shrugged. "Happens. Any case, we may be stuck here for awhile yet, but you're comin' over tonight, yeah?" His paw rested on her forearm, a grin spreading across his wide features. "You did tell me to save it for later."

Tally sighed, coughing a bit on a wisp of smoke. "Look, babe, normally I'd love to, but I think tonight, I need to sleep in my own bed."

"Not a problem. I could come over there."

"Not what I meant."

"Oh." He looked so crestfallen, she nearly apologized. "Somethin' I said?"

"No. Seriously, it's not you." He wouldn't understand. Sweet as the turtle was, she couldn't explain the gnawing guilt to him, and nice as his affections might be, the soreness creeping through her muscles and the ache in her tail combined with a newly realized throbbing pain in her skull, to put her libido at an all time low.

"Alright." He still wore the 'kicked growlithe' look, but he knew better than to argue. "Call me tomorrow?"

"Sure."

"Cool." Awarding her a final pat on the arm, he turned and lumbered off to join the others, leaving her to her brooding.

She looked up, watching the flames consume what had once been people's homes, their livelihoods. Nothing good could come of fire. More than any other element, its purpose was singular—to destroy. Yes, one could use it to cook and fend off the cold, but as soon as humans had learned better methods—safer methods—they no longer used such a wild and untamable thing.

"Tally."

Captain Park strode up to her, wearing a scowl as usual, though he'd taken off his helmet and left it by the truck. That was a good sign. He had a habit of fiddling with it whenever he was about to deliver a reprimand. She nodded to him, relaxing her stance and crouching slightly so as not to tower over her commanding officer so much.

"Cap."

"You sure you're okay?"

"A few bruises, cuts, and sprains. Nothing a potion and some rest won't cure."

"Good. I'd hate to have one of my best squaddies laid up in the center by being reckless."

She winced. "Understood, sir."

Glancing down, he rubbed the golden GFD badge on his jacket. "You know you'll be suspended for this. Nothing I can do about that."

"I know."

"Only be a couple days though. You did good, getting that guy. EMTs say he'll live. Some first and second degree burns, smoke trauma, and of course that leg, but he's alive, thanks to you."

Could be better, no thanks to me. Aloud, she said, "Thanks, Cap."

He nodded, short and curt. "Why don't you call it a night? I bet you're about done in after that. Your scales are looking bone dry."

"What about the cleanup?"

"We'll handle it. Don't worry, the squad understands. You did something no one else could've."

She nodded. "Could go for an early night and a long soak."

"Go on then. I'll call you tomorrow to check in and give you the official discipline order."
 "Alright." She glanced back at the building, which was already a shadow of its former self, completely devoured by the blaze. It hadn't been him, it hadn't! But… "Cap?"
 "Yes?"
 "We got anything on how this started?"
 "Not much, but looks natural. Could've been electrical, malfunctioning appliance, or any other internal cause. Certainly not deliberate. Why?"

Tally shook her head, the tension in her shoulders easing. "It's nothing. Just a stupid thought."

Captain Park pierced her with his stare, fiddling with his badge again while he picked apart her secrets. "You don't need to worry about it. Go home. Rest."

"Sure thing." She offered a salute which was returned in kind, and headed for the truck to drop her gear. A whole night to herself to look forward to, to think about her mistake, to brood over what she might have done differently. Followed by several days off the job. Great. As usual, her tendency to act first, think later had her in trouble.

But, at least she'd have a long, cool soak to drown her sorrows.

 

***

 

She shouldn't be here.

Tally glared at the sliding glass doors to Goldenrod General, the twin urges to walk in and get it over with or flee back home at war within her, leaving her frozen. She shouldn't be here. It wasn't her job. It was unprofessional. Why would he care? Why did she care?

And yet…

She had to know. Clenching a sizable fist and growling, “Stupid,” under her breath, she marched up to the door, which barely hissed open in time to admit her without being forced by a determined feraligatr.

The lobby bustled with activity as usual—to be expected of the largest hospital in the region—but Tally had no problem making a path to the reception desk. Everyone tended to get out of her way when she wanted to get somewhere, even if they too had important business. One of the benefits of her species' size, and she'd been told she was above average in that regard. Placing her claws lightly on the swamp green formica countertop, she cleared her throat. “Excuse me.”

The graying, dark-skinned woman behind the desk looked up from typing on her keyboard, adjusted her half-moon glasses, and immediately broke into a grin. “Tally! Long time no see, darlin'! How's my favourite guardian angel?”

“I'm good, Nancy. You?”

“Never better, and I do wish you'd not be such a stranger all the time. My offer still stands—after what you did for my Theo, you're welcome for dinner any time.”

Tally shifted, glancing down and drumming her claws on the counter. “I'll think about it.”

“Your mouth is saying 'yes' but your eyes are saying 'no', darlin'. Something wrong? We haven't offended or anything I hope...”

She shook her head. “No, it's not that, I promise.” Arceus, did she have to make such a big deal of it? “I was just doing my job is all.”

“Job or not, you were off duty, and you pulled my husband from a flaming car. That spells 'hero' where I come from. But, I won't press you, I gather this isn't a social call? What can I do for you?”

“I'm uh… looking for someone.”

“Someone you know?”

“Sort of.”

“One of your rescues?”

“Yeah.”

Nancy arched a brow. “That's a first. Well, go on, who's the lucky winner?”

Her claws tapped a staccato beat, possibly denting the counter. She willed them to sit still. “I don't know his name. He's one of the victims from the fire yesterday. Has a broken left leg.”

“Hmm, let me see.” Turning back to her computer, Nancy clacked a few keys, peering through her spectacles at the data. “I'm not really supposed to give out that sort of information to non-family members you know, but I don't think you're here to harass him, are you? Haven't secretly started working for the press?”

“No ma'am.”

“Good. Got him right here. Name's Clive Messier, room 618, East wing. Out of observation, and A-ok for visitors.”

“Thanks. How do I get there?”

“Main elevator, down the hall on the left.” She gestured past a small coffee shop. “You're his first visitor looks like. I'm sure he'll be thrilled!”

Tally nodded, and turned to go.

“Oh, and Tally?”

She glanced back. “Yeah?”

Nancy's smile had bled away, lines of age and worry sprouting in its place as gave Tally a stern look she'd surely perfected on her children. “You take care of yourself, y'hear? I see that tail splint. Your safety is important too.”

Tally nodded, her claws digging into her palm. “Yes mom.”

“None of that now, I'm serious!” Nancy chuckled. “Oh go on, and don't forget about that dinner offer!”

“Thanks, Nancy.” Free at last, Tally fled the bombardment. Calling attention to her tail renewed the dull ache in the limb, the tensor bandage she'd wrapped around it helping to support the damaged muscles, but doing nothing to prevent the constant bumping against the ground she normally didn't notice. Maybe she should pick up a super potion to help it along…

A young nurse waited at the elevator with a young boy in a wheelchair, one of his arms hooked up to an IV. He gaped up at her as she stopped beside them. “Woah, a feraligatr! Are you sick too?”

She shook her head. “Wouldn't be here if I were.”

“Why?”

The elevator door dinged open, and the nurse saved Tally from answering as she wheeled the boy inside. “This is a human hospital, David. Pokémon go to the pokémon centers. They can get better faster than we can.”

“And you have a translator, that's so cool!” The boy, David, grinned, staring at her with the pure fascination of someone discovering the world.

Briefly, Tally considered waiting for the next trip, but instead, she stepped in, making the car bounce slightly under her weight. The nurse had already pressed the 5th floor button, and the door slid closed behind Tally, locking her into the small metal box. She jabbed the 6th floor button, and tucked herself as much into the opposite corner from the other two as possible, drawing a deep breath.

It's fine it's fine it's fine it's fine. Why did they have to build these things so small? She felt like she should be ducking, even though the ceiling was still several feet up.

“Are you a nurse?”

She blinked. “Huh?”

David waved cheerily. “Hi! Are you a nurse?”

“No. I'm a firefighter.” Was the air getting thinner in here, or was it just her? Breathe, nice, slow breaths…

“Wow, cool! I want to be one of those when I grow up!” He mimed holding a hose and blasting it around. “Whee-ow whee-ow whee-ow!”

“Cool.” It was definitely getting harder to breathe, and was that… smoke? Should she ask the nurse?

“Alright David, let's leave the nice pokémon alone now,” the nurse was saying, patting the boy on the shoulder.

“Aww, but I never got to talk to a pokémon before!”

The elevator car burst into flames. Tally gasped, her lungs constricting on the choking smoke, the stifling heat walling her in. Fire closing in from all sides, reaching for her... Her scales seared against the blistering metal walls as she fought to summon a blast of water to douse the inferno, struggled for the barest trickle of moisture, which wouldn't come, wouldn't come, wouldn't—

Ding!

As suddenly as it had appeared, the phantom blaze vanished, leaving her panting in the corner and clinging to the railing while David and the startled nurse stared.

“Are you alright?” the nurse asked. “Should I...”

“I'm fine.” Tally straightened waving her off. “Don't worry about me.” She wasn't back there. She was no longer a weak little totodile, and Arceus damn it, she'd thought she was over this!

“Okay, take care of yourself then.” The nurse wheeled David out of the elevator. He twisted about in his chair, flashing Tally a grin and a thumbs up.

“Bye, scary awesome firefighter pokémon!”

The doors slid closed behind them, and Tally drew a deep, steadying breath. So far, evidence for this being a bad idea was piling up. Did everyone see her as reckless or a wreck? Well, they certainly would if she kept having delightful little 'episodes' like that. She usually avoided elevators, though it didn't always happen. Hadn't happened for a long time in fact. Probably the stress from yesterday.

Room 618 proved easy enough to find. This area of the hospital was less busy, only the odd nurse or patient wandering the halls. The door was open, allowing her to slip in quietly, and blink in the sudden adjustment from hospital fluorescence to bright August sun through the window on the far wall. Only one of the beds was occupied, its owner laid back with a magazine, casted leg propped up. Same short wavy black hair and matching scraggly beard, now even more unkempt after a day without shaving. He looked thinner in the hospital gown, though the definition on his bare arms suggested he kept himself in shape. He looked up as she approached, and the magazine dropped forgotten to the sheets.

“It's you!”

Tally halted several steps from the foot of the bed. “You recognize me?”

“Of course I do! Hard to forget the person who saves your life. Even without a gas mask this time.” He grinned. “You look better without it.”

What was that supposed to mean? She shrugged. “You were barely conscious, but, saves an awkward introduction I guess.”

“I suppose it does. Speaking of...” He held out a hand. “I'm Clive.”

His voice was a touch raspy. Was that normal or from the smoke? She shuffled closer, gently taking the offered palm, which vanished in her grip like a diglett into its burrow. Unlike most men, he didn't try to impress her by squeezing as hard as he could. A nice surprise.

“Tally. Though my squaddies call me Dozer.”

What the hell? What had prompted her to say that?

“Dozer, huh? Yeah, I can see why. Which do you prefer?”

She shrugged.

“C'mon, you must have a preference.”

“Tally is fine.”

“Tally it is then. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Was in the neighbourhood, thought I'd drop by and check on you.”

“Must be my lucky day then. Please, have a seat! I'd pull up a chair for you, but, well...” He laughed, gesturing to a pair of plastic chairs stationed beneath the window.

Tally eyed the two, clearly human sized seats. Would they even support her weight?

“Can't.”

“Oh, you're not staying long?”

“No. I won't fit.”

“Oh!” He smacked his forehead. “Of course, I should've seen that right away. Sorry. I guess they aren't used to accommodating above average visitors, huh? Well, you can always sit on the other bed if you want. I have this place all for myself.”

“This is fine.”

“Suit yourself. These beds are awfully comfy though.” His grin came easy, just like… No, no, no! She wouldn't think that way. That wasn't why she was here!

When she didn't respond, his grin wavered slightly, but he forged onward. “Off duty today then?”

“Yeah.” No need for him to know she'd been suspended for rescuing him. That wouldn't come out right no matter how she said it and he might get the wrong idea.

“Great! Let me tell you, I'm glad to have the chance to say thank you in person. I'd love to hug you, but I can't really get up without assistance right now. Unless...” His brows rose, grin returning full force as he spread his arms in a 'bring it in' gesture.

She didn't move. Couldn't move. Was he serious or mocking her? No, the slow melting away of his enthusiasm as she rejected his offer spoke to an honest gesture.

“Sorry, perhaps that was inappropriate,” he said after a moment, dropping his hands to his lap. “I'm told I sometimes miss social cues. I guess that was one of them.”

“Don't worry about it. Just not a hugger.”

“Shame. You look like you'd be good at it.”

Her tail twitched, shooting a twinge of pain up her spine. “Sure.”

“Either way, thanks. They tell me I'm lucky to be alive, and I believe them. That's 100% due to you.”

A faint nausea rolled about in her belly. She nodded down at his cast-covered leg, which was bound up from the knee to the ankle. His exposed foot was red and raw with superficial burns. “So's that. Part of why I'm here. To apologize.”

“Seriously?” He glanced down at his leg, then back up at her. That easy grin reasserted itself. “You think this is your fault?”

“It is. I should've just grabbed you and beat it. Tried to douse the beam first. Bad call. That shouldn't have happened.”

“You did what you thought was best in the moment. You couldn't have known—”

“It was stupid.” She didn't care that she'd interrupted. He was trying to make excuses for her, absolve her of responsibility. “I should've figured on it collapsing.”

“But you caught it. I remember that...” His voice was soft, and he wasn't looking at her. He was looking out the window, eyes distant. “It's kinda hazy, but I remember you standing over me, telling me it would be okay. And then there was that huge crashing sound, and I saw you holding up that burning beam protecting me from being crushed. Reminds me of the legend of Atlas, thinking back.” He looked back at her, a frown creasing his brow. “It had to have hurt you as well, catching that massive thing—which was on fire. Heck, I'm the one who should be apologizing. Are you alright?”

“Fine. I heal up quick.”

He muttered something she couldn't quite make out. It sounded like “incredible”. Reaching down he tapped his cast and said, “I couldn't possibly blame you for this little injury. You shouldn't either. I lost a lot in that fire, but I'm alive because of you. A fractured leg and some minor burns are a small price.”

He didn't get it, but she couldn't expect him to. “Sure.”

“I can't imagine running into a burning building like that, risking your life for a complete stranger. I'd probably soil myself if I tried it. Perhaps in the moment, adrenaline would take over, but you do this sort of thing all the time. That's pretty heroic if you ask me.”

Her belly roiled, the nausea rising. Her lungs felt tight, as though she was choking on smoke. “I should go.”

“What? Oh… so soon?”

Arceus. He looked like she'd slapped him. This had been a horrible idea. “Yeah. I've got… stuff.”

“Okay, that's fair. I wouldn't want to impose on your time or anything.” His hands clasped in his lap, gripping tightly. “It was really nice to meet you at least.”

“You too.” She turned to head for the door. This wasn't right. She couldn't leave without another word. “Good luck with… everything.” Arceus, she sounded like a machine!

“Thanks. And… I'm sorry if I said something to offend you.”

“I…” She glanced back, already two strides away. “You didn't. Don't worry about it. I'm just not very good at this sort of thing.”

“Most people wouldn't have even come to visit. I'm grateful you did.” That hopeful smile crept back, his dark eyes lighting up as they met hers. “If you're in the neighbourhood again, I'd really like it if you dropped by. Only if you want to, of course, and have time. They tell me I won't be in here too much longer, but it's incredibly boring, and the nurses aren't much for conversation.”

After this disaster? Not a chance. Better if she stayed as far away from him as possible. “Sure.”

“Alright. Take care, Tally.”

“You too.”

She didn't hurry, but she knew she was running away.

 

***

 

Tally sunk into the warm water of her tub with a grateful sigh. Expensive as the massive, 'King-size four-person high-life XL tub with rotating power jets' had been, it was easily the best money she'd ever spent. They'd needed to adjust the wall adjoining a closet to make it fit in her apartment bathroom, which was fine—she didn't exactly need a closet. What was meant to comfortably accommodate four humans could just as comfortably accommodate a large feraligatr, and the gentle massage of the high-pressure jets had soothed her after many a hard day's work.

Or, in this case, a frustrating day of boredom and bad ideas.

She immersed herself belly-first in the bubbling water until no more than her nostrils and eyes rose above the surface. Why had she gone to the hospital? To apologize, sure, but what had she been expecting? For him to understand? Of course not. As far as he was concerned, she was a hero. It had been all over his face and in his words. No matter that she'd messed up. She needed to be stronger, faster, better, stop it from happening again. She had to be better than just a “hero”. Praise was well and good, but only if it was deserved.

It hurt worse that he was so much like Ilya. Not in looks—Clive's dark mop and scraggly beard were nothing like Ilya's clean shaven face and long brown hair pulled into a ponytail just to keep it organized. But, his easy laugh, his way of self deprecating to make her feel more at ease, the way he tried to shift responsibility from her shoulders to his... that was Ilya. Her first friend. Her trainer. The man who'd inspired her to become something more than just an average 'mon.

Her stump fin itched, combining with a faint ache from her tail. Snorting, Tally rolled to her side, turning her back to one of the jets and rolling the pulsing stream across her body. The way she'd left had been rude. Perhaps even a bit cruel. He probably still thought it was his fault—something he'd said or done that had offended her. The right thing to do would be to go back and explain, but... how? Whenever the topic of emotions came up, it was like her words went and hid somewhere, leaving her with inarticulate grunts. Especially if the other person was attractive—

Tally jolted upright. What the fuck? What had made her think that way? Perhaps Clive did have a kind of scruffy cuteness, but was she so shallow? She didn't have that problem with Lao, or any of the other good looking males, human or pokémon, that she interacted with. Though, Lao was... well, Lao, and the others were nothing special. Was Clive 'special' then? Or was it just because of how they'd met and how he reminded her of Ilya?

Her X-transceiver buzzed against the ceramic of the small shelf attached to the tub, jolting her out of her ruminations. Tugging herself over to that side of the tub, she peered at the flashing screen of the device. Lao. Speak of Darkrai. She tapped the green 'answer' button with a claw.

"Yeah?"

The turtle's grinning image appeared on the screen. She'd never been a fan of the pop-out hologram feature. "Hey there, hot-stuff. What's shakin'?"

"Not much, just having a soak."

"Aw, without me?"

"Aren't you on duty?"

"Yeah, for another six, but it's piss boring here. Y'know, one of those days."

"Yeah." In academy, they'd said that being a firefighter was about 10% action and danger, 5% civil service, and 85% boredom. They'd been pretty right in her experience.

"So, what's the deal? How long're ya out for?"

"Got two days." Captain Park had called with the news this morning. "Covers the rest of this rotation, so I'm out til next week."

"Damn. What're ya gonna do with yourself? Sounds like you could use some company, the kind that comes in a nice, hard package."

In spite of herself, Tally chuckled. "You ass."

"Nah, I just know a nice one when I see one."

"Is that why you always drop down the pole in front of me?"

"Hey, gotta take what perks I can get in this job."

She snorted, and rested her chin on her arms. "I'm a perk now, am I?”

“Dunno if it's union approved, but sure beats lookin' at Jerry's or Riot's.”

“I think Riot would bite you if you stared at his.”

“And you wouldn't?”

“Not hard enough, clearly.”

He laughed. “Babe, you can bite me all you like, ya know that. How's tonight lookin'? Goin' into my weekend.”

Tally paused, considering. On one claw, it would be nice to forget herself for a while, sink into Lao's clumsy, but genuine affections. On the other, her sex drive was still about as low as it could get, and while her boisterous friend would take 'no' for an answer well enough, his company could be taxing if conversation and a bit of physical closeness were the only things on the menu.

“Going to take a rain check on that.”

“Oh.” There was that doused growlithe look again. “Ya sure?”

“Afraid so. Sorry.”

“Somethin' botherin' ya?”

“Nothing important.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Babe, ya don't need to lie to me. If I did or said somethin'...”

“It's not you. Promise.”

“Alright, but I wish you'd tell me what's up. If it's somethin' I can help with, I'd lose my shell to make it happen.”

Talking couldn't hurt, perhaps. Even if Lao wasn't the best conversationalist. “Dealing with shit from a long time ago, mostly. Nothing I can't handle. Been through this before.” Not quite the same, but he didn't need to know that. “Went to the hospital today to see the guy I pulled out.”

“Yeah? That's a new one for you, beautiful. Was it somethin' he said?” The burly blastoise smacked his fists together. “Hurt or no, he's gonna have problems if that's it.”

“No, no. It's nothing like that. He seems real sweet. He just reminded me of someone, and I...” What? Had cloystered right up? Had treated him like an annoying reporter? “I couldn't deal. Had to get out of there.”

“Still sounds like he pissed ya off.”

“Not at all. It's just… you know how I am when people go all sparkle eyed on me.”

“Like a lopunny on a hot roof.”

“Yeah. That, plus feeling like a totodile again.”

Lao nodded. “Cap's like that for me sometimes.”

“Wasn't that way. More ‘cause of who he reminded me of.”

“Gotcha. Someone ya cared about?”

Her claws tightened on the edge of the tub. “Yeah.”

“Wanna talk about it? Seems like somethin' a good cuddle and chat'd help with.”

“Not right now. Not tonight.”

“Alright, but ya know I'm here for ya.”

“I know.” She'd never told Lao about Ilya. He knew how she'd gotten her stump fin, but there were details their relationship didn't need to be muddied with. He'd murmur, pat her back, and tell her it wasn't her fault—just like everyone else. That wasn't what she needed from him. “I'm sorry. I must sound like a stuck-in-a-muk.”

He waved it away. “Nah. We all got shit to deal with. If ya say ya got it, I believe ya. You're one of the strongest folks I know, Tal. I know ya didn't ask for it, but if this turtle's opinion is worth anything, I'd say you oughta talk to this guy, hash it out. Confront it, like they taught us in trainin'.”

“You're probably right.” She ought to go back, explain herself somehow. She owed Clive that much at least. “Thanks, Lao.”

“My pleasure.” A short, sharp clanging alarm came from somewhere behind Lao. He glanced off to the side. “Shit, gotta go. We're gettin' two bell paged.” Two bells was the most common sort of call—minor incidents requiring the FD to attend, but with low urgency. “Catch ya later, sweetheart.”

“Sure thing. Good luck.” She ended the call and reclined back in the tub. She should be out there with them, two bell or no. Sitting here, sidelined, she was no good to anybody. Huffing, she crossed her arms, glaring at nothing in particular. As soon as visiting hours were open, she'd head back to the hospital. No running away this time. If she couldn't be out with the crew, she'd at least try and make Clive's confinement less boring.

Maybe her own as well.

 

***

 

The moment she lumbered into room 618, Clive looked up from a magazine and broke into a grin. “Tally!”

“Hey.” A pair of crutches now leaned against the wall near the window, but otherwise the room was unchanged. “What's up?”

“Oh, you know, exciting hospital life. The most current reading material.” He laughed, holding up the magazine as she approached; 'Shutterbug Weekly – Winter Edition'. The date was from two years previous.

“Nice.” She carefully sat on the edge of the bed next to Clive's, keeping her tail out of the way. The springs protested with a horrible squeal, and the mattress sagged into a 'U'. For a stomach-twisting instant, it felt as if she might break the damn thing, but it sucked it up and held. She grunted, crossed her arms, and met Clive's gaze, daring him to comment.

“Surprised to see you back, so soon,” he said instead. His dark eyes had flicked down briefly, but to her tail, not to the bed. A slight frown creased his brow.

She also chose not to comment on his change of words. The unspoken 'at all' practically hung in the air like a glowing sign. “Only right for me to come back and apologize.”

“This again? I thought we went over this. You—”

An upraised hand halted him mid-sentence. “No, I mean for how I treated you last time. I was rude. Sorry.”

“Oh.” He shrugged. “I figured you were just stressed about something. No big deal. Hey, you're the one taking your own free time to visit some loser in the hospital who you barely know. I'm not exactly going to complain.” He chuckled, but it rang a tad false.

“Either way, it wasn't right. I felt I owed you an explanation.”

“You really don't owe me anything, Tally.” This time, the smile was real, if a bit sad. “Promise.”

“Not how I see it.” She grunted, and leaned forward a little. Even seated, she still loomed over him a bit. Just go for it. Like ripping off a bandage, though she'd never really understood that expression. Taking them off felt the same no matter how fast you did it. “Look, to keep it simple, sometimes I get… episodes. Memories of something bad that happened a long time ago. Messes with my head. Happened when I was on the way up to see you last time.”

“Oh, god, I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. Nothing to do with you.” Mostly, but not something he needed to know. “Doesn't happen all the time, but when it does, sometimes it's bad.”

He nodded. “PTSD is a nasty thing, from what I understand. Lucky to not have a bit myself, though I guess only time will tell.” He paused, chewed his lip for a moment, then said, “If I might ask… what was it that happened to you? Please don't feel pressured to answer if it's too personal, I'm just curious.”

Her claws gripped the edge of the bed. Couldn't hurt to tell him, probably. “A fire, back when I was a 'dile. Got stuck in an elevator—me'n my trainer at the time. Stupid, I know. Damn thing malfunctioned with the doors stuck closed. Didn't know the building was on fire until we heard the alarms and started to smell smoke.”

“Wouldn't that make it go to the ground floor?”

“Did, but our way out was blocked. Fire started on the ground floor.” A shiver ran down her spine at the memory of the huge wall of flames blocking them in. “Tried to make a path, but I was too weak. Couldn't get any water going in all the heat.”

“So you were trapped in the elevator car, close to the exit, but couldn't get there.” Clive frowned. “Then what?”

“We tried to stay low and near the back of the car. I was dumb and pressed against the metal wall.” She turned a bit, rolling a shoulder to display her stump backfin. “S'how I got that.”

He winced. “How'd you get out?”

“We didn't know how long it'd be for the FD to get there. Couldn't hear much with the flames and alarms. My trainer knew we had a chance, but a slim one. He knew where the doors were, even if we couldn't see them. Before I knew what he was doing, he'd pulled me back into my ball and he threw it towards the door as hard as he could.”

“You're going to be okay, Tally, I promise. I'll get you out of here.” Ilya's phantom reassurance echoed. Her jaw tightened.

“Next thing I knew, I was being treated at a center. Burns were wrapped and I had a bit of smoke poisoning, but was alright.”

“And your trainer?” Clive's voice was soft. He already knew the answer.

“Didn't make it out. Tried to huddle up, wait for the FD, but they didn't get to him in time.” She steeled herself against the painful image of Ilya, cooking alive in that waking hell— No! It was long over. She couldn't change it.

“Damn.” His brow was furrowed, and he raised a hand as if to reach for her, then lowered it into his lap. “I can't imagine how rough it must be to go through that once, let alone to relive it. No wonder you became a firefighter.”

“Yeah. Plus, it was arson.”

“What?”

She nodded. “Yup. This crazy firebug heatmor thought burning things down was 'beautiful' or some shit. They caught him, but didn't help things much.”

“I'll bet. Rotting in a cell now I hope.”

“Yeah.” She'd seen the picture in the news, the mad-eyed-mon, gleefully waving to the camera as if he was some kind of celebrity. Her fists tightened.

Ping! Crunch!

She was falling! A grunt escaped her as her rump hit the floor, Clive shouting something in the same instance. Something sharp jabbed her backside, then fell away with a clatter as she flailed, cotton stuffing flying from her claws.

Well, shit.

She glanced down at the remnants of the bed, the frame now cracked and broken where she'd mangled it, while the mattress held several punctures. That would require a bit of explaining to the nurses.

“You okay?”

She looked up at Clive, shrugged. “Guess so. Can't say the same for this piece of junk.” Unbidden, the sheer absurdity of it pulled a laugh from her throat. Unspoken permission to react granted, Clive joined in, smirking and belatedly trying to contain his amusement behind his hand. She rolled to her feet, wincing slightly at a fresh twinge from her tail. She'd landed on it again. Great.

“You definitely did a number on it.” He chuckled. “Probably not the first time it's happened.”

“You callin' me fat?” Crossing her arms, she took a step closer.

He blanched. “Nononono! I meant—”

Another low chuckle escaped her, and she gently patted him on the shoulder. “Relax, I knew what you meant.”

“Oh.” He made an exaggerated swipe at his brow. “Phew! Thought you were going to upgrade this cast to the full body variety.”

“Nah, I'd never hurt someone like you on purpose.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Thank Arceus, the bed had at least provided a much lighter way to get off the uncomfortable topic of Ilya. She pointed to the crutches. “Be out soon then?”

“Sure hope so. You know the stories about hospital food? They aren't exaggerated in the slightest.”

She hadn't heard such stories. Must be a human thing. She nodded anyway.

“They had the crutches sized for me today,” he continued, “and had me practice up and down the hall. Takes some getting used to, but I managed. I'm supposed to go on five practice walks daily until they're satisfied I won't fall on my own face and be right back here.” He grinned. “Hopefully won't be more than another day or two. At least six weeks til the cast comes off though.”

“Glad to hear it. About getting home, not the cast. If only potions worked on humans.” Why was it so hard to make proper sense? Arceus, he must think that she was dense.

“If only. Pretty amazing how you guys can take so much punishment and bounce right back. I don't know much about it—not really my field—but I'm grateful you weren't badly hurt in the fire.”

Tally shifted, glancing out the window to escape his suddenly intense gaze. Man, evacuating a building of this size would suck. “Thanks.”

“Hey…”

A hand, soft and warm, rested on her wrist. She twitched, looking down in time to see him jerk it back in surprise. “Sorry,” he said. “Didn't mean to startle you.” His hands met in his lap, clasped, squeezed. “Listen, this might sound a bit strange, but I wanted to ask if you're free this weekend.”

“What do you mean?” A silent alarm bell buzzed in the back of her mind.

“I should be out of here by Saturday. There's a really nice Hoennite place up on Sycamore, near the game corner. I'd love to treat you to dinner as a thanks.”

This again. “That's sweet of you, but I can't.”

“Why not?”

Shit, she hadn't crossed her arms. Most people took no for an answer the first time, especially when she did that. “Regulations.”

“Tauros shit.” His eyes narrowed. “No way are there regulations preventing you from being treated to dinner.”

“We're not allowed to accept any kind of gifts as civil servants. Looks bad.”

“Fine, what about as a friend?”

“I...” She paused. Arceus dammit, he had her in a corner. What was she supposed to say, 'no, we're not friends'? “I'm not much for making a big deal of it. I just did what anyone would have.”

“Anyone.” He laughed, but it sounded forced. “Anyone wouldn't have jumped in there on a moment's notice. Anyone wouldn't have stopped that beam from crushing me. Like it or not, you did something pretty cool, and I'd feel awful if I couldn't try to do something for you in return. My life is pretty valuable to me you know. Refusing gratitude cheapens the act.”

Tally's jaw clicked shut on the refusal she'd been about to fire back with. He had a point, though it grated to admit it.

“Please.” His tone softened, and he looked up at her with a plea in his dark eyes. “It would mean a lot to me.”

The last of her carefully built walls of rejection crumbled into a neat pile of rubble. She grunted. “Fine.”

“Yes!” Clive pumped a fist and grinned. “Sorry, that wasn't very cool, was it? Saturday then? Around seven?”

“Alright.”

“Fantastic! That's settled then. I'd offer to pick you up, but I can't exactly drive anytime soon.”

“I'll manage.” She glanced back at the destroyed bed. “Just hope they have proper chairs.”

“I doubt that will be an issue.” His smile widened. “I'll even call ahead and book the best table with the largest chair they've got.”

“Fair deal.”

A moment passed, words failing both of them. Clive's gaze flicked over her, as though studying the pattern of her scales. What else could she say? It wasn't like they had much in common. Arceus, she'd have to sit through dinner like this, memories of Ilya rolling about under the surface, while she frantically sifted through conversation topics to break the awkward silence. What was she thinking?

“So—” he began.

“Actually—” she said.

Both stopped, blinked.

“You first,” he said.

“Nah, you.”

“I…” He bit his lip.

“Mister Messier?” A female voice from the door. Tally glanced over. A nurse was poking her head into the room. “Time for your exercise practice, Mister Messier. I'm sorry to interrupt your visit, but you can feel free to continue as we walk or resume after.”

“It's fine, I was on my way out.”

“You were? Okay, that's fair.” Fabric rustled. Clive scooted himself to the far edge of the bed and cautiously rotated his legs over until his good foot rested on the floor, exposing his bare back to her where the hospital gown failed to cover. How the hell did humans manage to be so hairy when they weren't supposed to have fur?

Clive reached out, seized the crutches, and with only a bit of wobble, stood up. Turning, he flashed her a grin. “See you Saturday then?”

Too late to back out now. Drawing a deep breath, she nodded. “Yeah. I'll be there.”

 

***

 

Try as she might, she would never understand the big deal humans made about food. Sure you could make it taste a bit better with fancy sauces and spices, but in the end, it all went to the same place. So long as it filled you up and didn't make you sick, who cared what it looked like before it got there?

Tally glared up at the fancy script sign over the restaurant. Monsoon, it read, with, fine Hoennite cuisine in smaller letters underneath. This was it alright. A glance at the her X-transceiver strapped to her wrist showed she was on time.

Perhaps she should have exchanged contact info with him, but it was too late for that. Without it, she'd had no opportunities to tactfully back out of the dinner engagement during the two days of boredom since visiting him in the hospital. Lao had sent her a message asking if she wanted to talk or get together. Once again, she'd had to deflect him, which felt awful, but she hadn't been in the mood for his antics or advances, and telling him about this bad idea of a dinner engagement might make him jealous.

“Tally!”

She turned, and her jaw dropped a bit. Clive hobbled toward her along the sidewalk, a huge grin painted on his face, clad in a dark blue suit and white shirt complete with a black bow-tie. He'd shaved, making him look younger, and his scruffy hair had been pulled tight into a short tail, lending an air of sophistication belied entirely by his awkward wobbling bow as he came to a stop in front of her.

“Pleasure to see you again! Clive Messier, professional shutterbug, at your service.”

“Damn.” She looked down. Bare toes poked out of his cast, which was mostly covered by his slacks, while the other foot wore a shiny black shoe. “You know how to make someone feel shabby.”

“Please, you look ravishing. I almost asked if you'd gotten a haircut, but...” He winked. “I didn't think pokémon put much stock into clothing in any case.”

“We don't, but that doesn't mean I don't know what an expensive suit looks like.” Or what it meant. Why was he trying so hard to impress her?

“Don't worry, it's not exactly Lumiose chic.” He twisted, glancing down one of the sleeves, which rode up an inch or two on his wrists. “As you can see, the size is a little off. Most of my stuff burned up, so I had to borrow this from a friend. It's his old grad suit, which he hasn't worn in years.”

“If you say so.” She grunted and looked up at the sign again. “This the place?”

“Sure is. May I?” Leaning over the crutch on his good side, he offered his elbow.

Tally stared at it. She didn't watch many human TV shows, but she'd seen gestures like this before. Most of her human squadmates did it in celebration after a good rescue. She crouched to lower herself enough until her shoulders were on a height with his, then carefully nudged his elbow with hers.

He wobbled, yelped, flailed to catch himself on the other crutch. Instinctively, she snatched his shoulder, steadying him. The crutch on her side clattered to the pavement, leaving him awkwardly supported by her grip, tilted off balance.

A heartbeat passed. Two.

“Um, I think you can put me down now,” he mumbled, his face flushed. “I've got it.”

“Sure. Sorry about that. Sometimes hard to gauge how hard I hit something.” Arceus, she'd practically shoved him over! Gently, she released his arm, allowing him to drop his good foot flat to the pavement once more. “You okay?”

“Fine, fine.” He broke into a laugh, cupping his free hand over his mouth. “Guess I need to learn a little more about chivalry. Was my posture that bad?”

“What?” Bending down, she picked up the fallen crutch, passing it to him.

“Thanks. No matter I suppose. A bit tricky to offer you a gentlemanly arm while managing these anyhow.” He waggled the crutch at her before planting it and nodding towards the door. “Screw it. Shall we?”

“Oh.” A vague image surfaced from somewhere in the depths of her memory. Calvin, one of her human squadmates, showing off pictures from a wedding he'd attended. Well-dressed men escorting women in fancy dresses, who clung to their extended elbows.

Oops.

“Sure, I guess.” Her stump fin itched, her tail lashing at the phantom crawling sensation. She'd taken off the splint, and it felt fine again, but slapping it on the pavement still sent twinges of discomfort up its length. “After you.”

“Too kind,” he murmured. Was that a chuckle? No, he was looking studiously at the ground in front of him as he hobbled up to the door while she followed, reaching past him to grab the handle and tug it open. It banged against the doorstop with an obnoxious thunk. Dammit, why was she suddenly so clumsy? She felt newly evolved again, unaware of her own strength and self-conscious about the way she towered over everyone else.

The inside of the restaurant lived up to its outwards appearance. Soft piano music curated by the skilled tentacles of an octillary on a raised platform covered the gentle murmur of conversation between well-dressed diners. White lacy tablecloths lit by flickering candlelight made for tiny bubbles of isolation in the otherwise dim room. Her nostrils twitched. Was that luck incense? It certainly was—expensive stuff. Everything in this place oozed quality, designed to please the discerning palate. One of the closer couples, a middle-aged man and woman, glanced toward her and Clive as they entered. The woman's eyebrow rose, and the man coughed as he took a sip of some sort of wine.

Yeah, yeah, I know I don't belong here.

“Ah, sir?” A short, light-haired man in a carefully fitted black and white suit bustled up to them, a towel over one arm that looked to be more decoration than anything. “You have a reservation...?” The question came with a nervous glance at Tally, his tiny moustache quivering. He reminded her of a smeargle with a painting it was particularly proud of.

“Yes,” Clive replied. “Messier, for two, please.”

“Ah.” The man pulled a small black book from his jacket pocket, flipped it open and glanced at the page. “Indeed. One moment please, we must prepare your table. Would you like us to look after your feraligatr while you await your guest? We have a fine pokémon lounge...”

“Excuse me?” Clive's tone was incredulous. “There isn't another 'guest'. We're it.”

“Ah...” The smeargle man swallowed hard. “Understood, sir.”

Clive nodded, and the little (though that was relative as far as she was concerned) man scurried off, presumably to find a large enough chair. From what she could see, all of the chairs here had arms, which they wouldn't for long if she tried to sit in one.

Sighing, she laid a hand on Clive's shoulder as gently as possible. “This is real nice, but I dunno if I can do this.”

“What? Of course you can! It's on me, remember?” He grinned and shot her a wink. “Promise I won't ask to go Kalos on you. Ignore that guy, he clearly lacks taste.”

“Not what I meant.” She glanced around, lowered her voice slightly. “He nearly shit himself when I walked in. I fit in here about as well as a mightyena in a mareep herd.”

“Who cares what other people think? I want you to have the best food in the city, and that's here.”

Smeargle man was on his way back. “Normally don't care about being stared at, but this is different.” It wasn't just her they were looking at, it was Clive too. Several disapproving glares had been directed their way from various tables. “I'd be a lot more comfortable somewhere else.” Almost anywhere else. The urge to scratch her stump was nearly overwhelming.

Clive frowned, chewed his bottom lip, and studied her. Perhaps she should call the whole night. She could beg off with a lame excuse or fake an 'episode', though, that would certainly trigger more stares. Maybe he would do it for her, at last frustrated by her continued awkwardness.

“Sir and… ah… sir?” Their dubious host approached, made a small hand gesture that was probably meant to be welcoming. “Your table is ready.”

“Thank you,” Clive said, “but I believe we won't be needing it after all. Sorry for the inconvenience.” He nodded to the man, spun on a crutch, and grinned at her. “Right, somewhere else it is.”

He hobbled for the door and, for a moment, she didn't move, unsure how to respond. It would have been so easy for him to insist, or to call things off himself, but he hadn't. Belatedly, she followed, joining him back on the street in front of Monsoon.

“On second thought, it was pretty stuffy and snooty in there wasn't it?” He tilted his head to the side, looking up at her. “Should've guessed it wouldn't be to your taste. You prefer a more down-to-earth experience I'll bet.”

“I… suppose?” If that meant a pre-packaged dinner she didn't need to think too much about, then, yes. There he went again, making excuses for her behaviour. It was rather sweet, if a bit unsettling. Was he truly so unaffected, or was he masking irritation with humour?

“Right. What's your favourite place to eat then? Let's go there.”

“Home.”

Clive's eyes widened slightly, though he disguised his surprise with a polite cough. “I wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I asked to go to a lady's home without a prior invitation. Surely you must go out for food occasionally.”

Tally's tail twitched. She was a 'lady' now, was she? First time she'd been called that. “Not really. I only eat out with my squaddies, and that's usually at some bar or another.”

“Hmm.” He stroked his chin. “I suppose we could go to someplace like that, though I'd be the out of place one there. Especially dressed like this.”

This wasn't working. “Maybe I oughta go...”

“No!” His cry had a note of panic in it that stopped her mid turn. “No,” he repeated, softer. “Please don't. I've got another idea that might work. What if I make you dinner instead, back at my place? I don't really have much, but I make a mean mac and cheese...”

“Your place? Where exactly are you staying now?” A bit blunt, perhaps, but she could hardly offend him more than she already had without outright insulting him.

“I was lucky. My aunt is out of town for a while, and offered to let me stay at her apartment until my insurance pays out and I can look for somewhere of my own again. It's not too far in fact. Just a few blocks.”

Tally eyed him. The hopeful expression on his face, the nice suit, the cast she'd put him in… She couldn't say no with a clear conscience.

“Alright. Lead the way.”

 

***

“Nice place.” Tally said, poking her head into the tiny kitchen of Clive's temporary apartment. She had to stand sideways to fit in the hall between the door, kitchen, and living area. A faint scent tickled her nose. Skitty perhaps? Not present, but definitely living here.

“Beats a hotel.” He maneuvered between the stove, fridge, and two-person sized dining table and waved for her to follow. “Come on, might as well sit on the couch while I get things started.”

Tally eyed the small white leather loveseat he was pointing at. It was indeed big enough and should hold. Stepping cautiously over the divide between kitchen tile and hall carpet, she followed.

Thwack! Her tail slapped into a wall.

“Sorry.”

“Don't worry about it.”

Reassurances or no, she didn't want to destroy any of his furniture or drywall. She gathered up her tailtip in one hand and navigated the kitchen without incident (though squeezing past the fridge was a bit tight) to join him. At his urging, she sat as delicately as possible on the cool leather, lowering herself into the plush softness with the ominous creaking of springs she'd become accustomed to with most regular human furniture. She took up nearly the entire thing.

“Comfy?”

Sitting, she was on eye level with him. She nodded.

“Cool. Can I offer you a drink? Cola? Lemonade? I think there's a case of beer as well.”

“No thanks.” She rested her hands on her belly, unsure what she should do with them.

“If you change your mind, don't hesitate.” He grinned. “Hell, if there's anything special you like to drink, I can possibly make that happen.”

She considered asking for a glass of fresh lugia piss, just to see his reaction. Instead, she shook her head. “I'll let you know.”

He nodded and hobbled back to the kitchen, beginning to rattle about and remove various items from cupboards. He looked to be managing well enough with his crutches, though moving side to side in the small kitchen must have been difficult. Perhaps she should offer to help? No, he wanted to play host. She shouldn't insult his hospitality without cause.

Across from Tally, a flat screen TV rested on a shelf filled with what appeared to be a collection of TV shows. A pair of framed photographs formed bookends, one displaying a picture of Clive with two older women, the other a black and white picture of one of the same women with another man. Next to the shelf, a small cardboard box with an open lid sat forlorn, looking half emptied. A door off to the right presumably lead to a bedroom, while a curtained window backed another comfortable looking white leather chair. She wiggled her feet in the dark grey shag carpet. It was nice, if a bit ticklish. The lingering aroma of skitty was stronger here; probably where the other 'mon liked to sleep.

Clive was humming to himself in the kitchen as he worked on opening a small box of some kind. Say something, dammit! What did she know about him? What could they talk about?

“You're a photographer then?”

“Yup! It's a glamorous job, but someone has to do it.” He looked over and flashed her a grin. “I do a lot of weddings, as well as grads, the odd gym challenge… you name it really. It's never boring. What about you? Have you always been a firefighter?”

“Pretty much. I was a trainer's 'mon originally, but he'd made provision that I'd go to a general training center in the event of… you know. From there, I moved on to firefighter academy.”

“Neat. I didn't even know there was such a thing as a general training center.”

“Someone's gotta take care of all the 'mon who get bred by trainers looking for better bloodlines. Not all of them are happy with being tossed into the wild, and starter 'mons have to come from somewhere.” Her jaw clenched briefly, recalling all the eevees, vulpix, charmanders and the like she'd trained with. Some of them were perfectly bright, normal, happy 'mons with ideas and a future. Others were… troubled. Those ones tended to be taken elsewhere after a week or two. Where, she didn't know, but they didn't come back.

“Quite the strange world we live in, isn't it? Can't imagine what it would be like without you guys to pick up the slack from us humans. Dammit!”

“What's wrong?” She tried to see around him, but his back was to her, blocking her from the problem.

“Need to get a pot and they're on the bottom shelf. If I can just...” There was a grunt of effort. Clive wobbled, caught himself on the counter, and swore under his breath.

“Let me help.” The opportunity to do something other than awkwardly sit had her all but leaping towards him. Her tail hit the doorframe between the two rooms with a mighty thwack. She winced, glanced down to check for fractured drywall (none, thankfully), and shuffled into the kitchen. “Where is it?”

“Thanks. Down there.” He hopped out of the way, tapping the cupboard in question as he did so. “The big silver one.”

Crouching carefully so as not to knock over the table, Tally opened the cupboard, found the pot in question, and pulled it out. On the counter, an open package of noodles sat beside a carton of moomoo milk, and several jars of spices.

“Now what?”

“If you wouldn't mind filling that halfway with water and putting it on the stove to boil, that would be great.”

“Sure.” Odd that he'd ask for such a thing when they could use the sink, but... She raised the pot to her mouth. It was almost too big to fit her jaws around, but easy enough.

“Err, from the tap, I think.” Clive said, pointing to the sink between stove and fridge.

“Oh, good. Thought so.”

“Weird question. Can you drink your own water?”

“Sure, same way you can drink your own piss. It's still water, but it's been sitting in there for a while, y'know?”

“Not a first choice. Gotcha.”

With a shrug, she flipped on the lever tap and filled the pot, then placed it on the stove. This was the tricky part. The front of the stove had several dials and a button. The dials appeared to match the four burners. Gently, she turned the matching dial. A soft hissing sound rose, but nothing happened. No heat. She turned it a little more. Still nothing. She turned it until it didn't turn further.

“It's gas. You need to press the igniter. The button in the middle.”

“Okay.” She pressed the small black button.

Fwish!

Blue and orange flames shot up around the side of the pot. Tally jumped back, snarling. Something behind her crashed to the ground. Clive shouted something indistinct. Fire! Taking aim, she shot a quick, precise blast of water at the stove.

“—n't do that”

Tally blinked, looking at the now doused and dripping stove. The pot sat in a puddle, while smaller puddles settled in the other burners and on the counter, tiny rivulets running down the cupboards to the floor.

She'd put out the fire alright.

Clive cleared his throat. “Takeout then?”

 

***

 

Twenty minutes later, they'd cleaned up the mess, Tally had learned a bit more about gas stoves, and both were significantly hungrier.

“I take it you don't do much cooking?” Clive squeezed a dripping towel into the sink, then tossed the damp cloth over the tap to dry.

“Not my specialty. Poké meals come pre-made.” Tally placed the mop into the bucket, the floor mostly dried.

“That must get rather boring.”

“Not really. Food is food.”

“My mom would faint if she heard that.” He grinned. “Any dinner that doesn't include an appetizer and a dessert isn't a real meal, as far as she's concerned.”

Tally shrugged. “I'm a 'mon of simple needs.”

“Not a bad thing, but it's okay to treat yourself now and then too.”

“I do. You should see my tub.”

His eyebrows rose. “My my, on a first date? That's quite the offer.”

“Why? It's just a tub. Don't you have one?”

Colour rose to his cheeks, his gaze dropping. What the hell did he have to be embarrassed about? “Nevermind. Guess it's a little different for you.”

Odd or not, there was a certain charm to having him off balance like this. Hiding a grin, she asked, “How so?”

“You know, because...” he flapped a hand at her vaguely, then patted the arm of his suit.

How far could she push? He was definitely growing redder. “Not sure what you mean.”

“You know what? How about that takeout?”

“Sure.” Damn. Something to do with not wanting to get his clothes wet maybe? That made a certain sense. Or was it about taking them off? Humans could be strange about that.

“I know a really good Kantoese place nearby that delivers. Would you mind grabbing the phone? It's by the TV.”

“Alright.” She extracted herself from the kitchen, managed not to overturn the dining chairs with her tail a second time, and moved to the shelf with the TV. On the corner, near the half-opened box, lay a small cordless phone. She scooped it up and started to turn back to the kitchen, when a familiar flash of colour caught her eye. Leaning over, she peered into the depths of the box.

'Hot Flashes' a title in bold sparkling red letters read, surrounded by flames. Beneath it, she could just see the top of a yellow helmet. It was certainly what she'd thought, but was it this year's edition?

“Found it?” Clive asked.

Tally grunted an affirmative and turned to pass him the phone.

“Thanks. Anything in particular you'd like to order?”

“Nope. Pick whatever you want.”

“Dangerous words to say to a man.” He winked and thumbed the buttons of the phone. “Don't worry, I'll make sure we're well fed with deliciousness.”

“Glad to hear it.” She waited until he'd turned away from her to shift herself back over to the box. Why would someone like Clive have such a thing? Reaching in, she pulled out the glossy square of cardboard, extracting it from a loose shirt and a bottle of shampoo.

“Hi, I'd like to place an order for delivery please. Yes. 9-0-0…”

Sure enough, Amon the floatzel, dripping wet over the background of flame, grinned cheekily at her from the cover, an axe slung over one of his shoulders, while his lower parts were obscured by the subtitle, 'Firefighter Calendar – Goldenrod'. They'd done the shoot last year, before he'd gotten the burn scar across his right shoulder. Proceeds from the calendars went to treatment for burn victims and abandoned pokémon centers.

“...party tray C, and a side order of...”

She leafed through the pages. There was Lao, striking an aggressive pose surrounded by steam, with his considerable muscles flexed. A towel draped loosely around his waist bore a significant bulge. Not the real thing, though he'd offered; they'd had him use a prop for the shoot. If he'd actually been hard, the towel wouldn't have stayed in place. The next page showed Riot lolled on his back, tongue hanging as he panted in the heat, hind legs provocatively spread, the curve of his haunch barely hiding what lay between. She flipped to the June spread.

“...yes, please have them call upon arrival. Twenty-five minutes? Thanks.” The phone beeped as Clive cut the connection. “All good. Soon, we dine like the ancient emperors!” Irregular footsteps and the tap of crutches drew closer. “What's that you've got?”

Silently, she turned, holding up the pinup image of herself, sprawled on her side across the top of an engine's cab. A fire hose looped between her legs just right, wrapping around her belly and over her side while she suckled on the nozzle, a steady stream of water spraying across her tongue. It was quite a nice shot. The sun gleamed off her scales, and the photographer had managed to angle it so her stump was barely showing.

If she thought he'd been a fine shade of red before, he was managing to outshine the fire engine now. He dropped into the couch, letting his crutches fall beside him. “It's not what it looks like, I promise.”

This should be interesting. “You don't think pokémon are attractive?”

“No. I mean, yes, but that wasn't why I bought it!”

“That's kinda what it's for isn't it?”

“Yes, but...” He buried his face in his hands. “Oh hell. Okay, yes. Originally, that was why, partially. I had a copy at my old place. I'm a photographer, right? I liked the angles and lighting they used, and I'll admit, the subject matter was nice. But I wasn't… y'know.”

“Jerking off to it?”

The strangled sound he made was rather cute. “Yeah... that.”

She was looming a bit, and crouched slightly so as not to tower directly over him. “Wouldn't it have burned up?”

“When I saw you at the hospital, you looked strangely familiar, but I didn't realize where from until later. I bought another copy after I was released so I could be sure.” He glanced up at her through his fingers. “That box is the emergency supplies I picked up, as well as… that. You're not upset, I hope. God… I must seem like a creepy perv.”

“Nah.” She shrugged, flipping through the rest of the calendar. “The photographer was a bit pervy though. After the shoot, he wanted to take pictures of me playing with the hose for another job of his. I don't really care if people jack off to a picture of me, but he wanted more than that.”

Clive swallowed hard. “Surprised he didn't end up in traction.”

“He got the point after he tried to press the issue and I punched a hole in his car.”

“Oh.”

He still had that scared look. Fun as he was to tease, probably best to reassure him. Shuffling closer, she rested a hand on his shoulder. He tensed, his breath hitching, but he gradually relaxed as she didn't make any threatening moves. “I don't mind you having a sexy picture of me. It's kinda cute. Dunno why humans make such a big deal of it honestly.”

Clive's grin wobbled back into existence. “We do like to complicate matters, and we certainly aren't as confident in showing our bodies.” He patted his belly. “Might be the extra flab we tend to carry about.”

Tally glanced up and down his slender frame. Her tail twitched. “You've got about as much extra as a ditto shifting from a skitty to a wailord.”

“What?”

“Nevermind.” The image of Clive dressed in the pink fluffiness of a skitty's fur popped into her head, and she grinned. “Pokémon joke. Some dittos aren't super good at changing shapes, and skitties and wailords—”

He held up a hand to forestall her, colour rising in his cheeks again. “It's alright, I get it.” He shifted, scooting over to one corner of the couch. “Would you like to sit while we wait for the food?”

Tally considered the space remaining on the loveseat. She shrugged. Perhaps he'd learn the hard way. “Sure.” Gathering up her tail so as not to smack him with it, she plunked down next to him. Air whooshed from the puffy cushions. Springs groaned. Clive squeaked. Tally heaved an exaggerated sigh of contentment, spreading her arms out across the top of the couch, one slipping behind Clive's shoulders and head as she ostentatiously sprawled. He wanted to sit next to her? Fine.

“Comfy?” She glanced down at him. She wasn't crushing him, so that was good, but he was squashed into the opposite arm by her bulk, limbs pinned to his sides, a pinched expression on his face.

He gave a weak half-nod.

“Hang on, just need to...” Grunting, she unfurled her tail from her forearm, laying it neatly across his lap. The resulting twitch was worth the strangeness of almost cuddling him. “There. You're right. This is nice.”

His voice was a bit strangled. “New idea. How about you sit here and I get you a drink?”

Tally grinned. “I dunno, I was thinking we could sit like this til the food comes.” He was trying not to squirm, but she felt the trembles against her scales. He was wearing some kind of scent—sharp and spicy tones covering the salty sweetness of human, and his own more vague odour. Oddly, the latter was stronger now, more than their new proximity would account for.

“Point taken. Stop underestimating you. You sure you don't want anything?”

After the misadventure with the stove, and the resulting conversation, she was getting a bit thirsty. She pulled her tail from his lap, freeing him. “Alright. You said you had beer?”

Grabbing a crutch, he jumped up with such enthusiasm as to appear almost uninjured. She scooped up and handed him the other before he had to fumble about with it, which he accepted with a grateful nod. “Coming right up!”

Tally sat back as Clive went to retrieve refreshments. Perhaps this evening wouldn't be so bad after all.

 

***

 

“Oy, Dozer. We gotta chat.”

Tally cracked her eyes open, and sat up from her lazy recline on an old beat-up couch in the firehall's second floor recreation room. The squad spent most of their on-duty time when not on a call or public duties here. In front of her stood Lao, his burly arms folded across his chest.

Shit. She'd been dreading this. “Yeah? What's up, Lao?”

He jerked his head towards the glass sliding doors leading out onto the adjoining balcony. “Not here. In private.”

In one corner, Alex and Amon played cards with Jerry, and Riot lounged nearby, taking up most of the space in front of a TV playing midday reruns. Tally grunted. Yeah, they didn't need to hear this. Everyone—with the possible exception of Riot, who was a little thick—knew about her and Lao's relationship, but that was no reason to go causing a scene. She heaved herself up and nodded to Lao, who led the way out into the heavy afternoon air. Tally slid the door closed as she joined him in the sticky summer heat.

Lao barely waited until the latch clicked before fixing her with a penetrating stare. “What's goin' on with you? Why you been avoiding me, girl?”

Despite her advantage in size, she felt small. “It's been a weird weekend.”

“You're tellin' me. I had to spend it all on my lonesome, barely hide or scale of my favourite gal.”

“I know, I know, and I feel bad for ditching you. You deserve better than that.”

He grunted. “So why'd ya do it? Somethin' to do with that guy?”

“No. Well, partly.” She hadn't seen or spoken to Clive since that dinner date, but they'd parted ways on good terms and had exchanged contact numbers.

“Is it or isn't it? He better not've done anything to hurt ya...” The blastoise's fists came together with a formidable crack.

“It's not him. Not directly. I've just had a lot on my mind.” Lao had called her again the day after the dinner and she'd again rejected his overtures, though she wasn't exactly sure why.

"And that's why you're suddenly pushin' me away like I stole your favourite sunnin' spot or somethin'?"

Tally sighed. "Look, Lao... I'm sorry, I truly am. This is more my fault than yours."

"Ya say that, but I know ya only half mean it." She'd only seen Lao angry once, and he wasn't yet, but the hard set of his face spoke of a storm brewing beneath the typically placid surface.

"Okay, fine. You're right, there is more to it, but it really isn't your fault. I like you for who you are, Lao, and you won't ever change—I don't want you to change."

"Great. But..."

"But... I need a bit more than that."

"More than me." His tone was flat, devoid of emotion. Those stormclouds were gathering, lightning flashing in their bellies.

"It sounds so bad when you put it like that." Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the wall, picking her next words as carefully as she could. "What exactly do you think we are, Lao? What is this 'thing' we have? Are we mates? Friends? Fuckbuddies? Partners of convenience?"

"Dunno exactly." She heard the shrug in the creaking shift of his shell. "Never really discussed it, and dunno if I ever cared to. Not sure I care to now. Can't we jus' enjoy the laughs and the sex and not get all... wound up?"

"Sure, and that's one of the things I like about you. It's not complicated. You're not complicated. You're funny, a good friend, and you've got a great cock. The sex was good, and it didn't make things weird at work."

“But."

"But, I do want a bit more than that. I need someone who gets me, inside and out."

"And I don't?"

"No, Lao, you don't." Opening her eyes, she looked down into his green stare. "We're a lot alike. Maybe too much. Can you honestly tell me that I'm more to you than a good fuck every now and again?"

"Thought the whole idea was not gettin' attached."

"Not the point."

He shrugged. "If yer askin' if all I think of ya is as a soft cunt to wet my dick in, then, no. 'Course not. What do ya think I am, a wild with no standards? But if yer askin' if I think we're mates? Guess not." His jaw clenched. "That's too complicated for a simple 'mon like me."

"That's not what I—"

"No, but it's what ya said." He swiped a paw through the air. "I get it. I ain't no fancy 'mon or smarty pants human. I got simple tastes and simple needs. Nothin' wrong with that, right?"

"Not at all."

"But it ain't what ya want long term. Ya found someone who is."

“I... Don't know about that."

"Yeah, ya do. Ya just haven't admitted it to yerself yet." He shrugged, the storm clouds clearing. "I get it. Thought it might be by how ya talked. Ya could've just told me that from the start and we'd be cool. Why'd ya have to go in circles around it like that?"

"I didn't... I'm sorry." She tapped her claws together, looking away. "I'm not really good at this kind of thing."

"Dunno if anyone is, sweetheart." He stepped close, wrapping his short, powerful arms as far as he could reach around her midriff. "I don't have to like it, but I want ya to be happy, gorgeous. S'all I ever wanted. I jus' hope he does for ya what I can't."

Her throat felt tight all of a sudden. She returned the embrace, pulling the smaller 'mon in and crushing him to her chest. "Thanks, Lao. You know I love you, right?"

"Yeah yeah, and yer gonna crack me shell if ya keep that up!"

Chuckling, she released him. "Sorry."

"All good." He shot her a wink. "Gotta keep these guns in top condition, or what'd Cap say?"

"Probably give you a stern lecture about responsibility."

"Yeah, summat like that." He stepped away, his good humour replaced by a hopeful look. "Hey, maybe we can still... y'know. Jus' not as often?"

"We'll see." Her jaw parted in a grin. "Gotta admit, it's hard to find a good substitute for turtle dick."

Ya got that right!" He patted his belly. "And when ya need it, ya need it quick. Ya got my number, babe."

"Sure do. C'mon, we should get back." Throwing an arm around his shoulders, she steered them back into the station.

 

***

 

She shouldn't be here.

Tally stared up at Clive's temporary apartment building, a plastic bag of Kantoese takeout dangling from one claw.

This was a terrible idea. He might not even be here anymore. She should have called first. What if she was wrong? This entire thing would be a disaster, and it would be her fault, and—

No. No pussying out. She was doing this. Setting her shoulders, Tally marched up to the intercom, inspected the buttons until she found the one she needed, and jabbed it firmly before she could talk herself out of it.

Bzzt! Bzzt!

No answer. Perhaps he was out, or he'd found a new place, or—

Bzzt! Bzzt!

There was a small camera lens by the intercom. Maybe he was there, and could see it was her, and didn't want to answer—

Bzzt! Click! “Hello?”

She almost jumped. “Clive?”

Of course it's him, stupid. Don't sound so surprised.

“Tally? Hey! Um, what's up? Wasn't really expecting you. Or anyone, really.”

“Sorry. I can leave if it's a bad time.”

“Nonono, please! Just need to put on a shirt. Let me… aha!” The sound of an angry beedrill rang from the speaker and the door latch clicked open. “Come in!”

“Thanks.” No way to know if he heard her or not over the obnoxiously loud buzz. She tugged the door open before it relocked and lumbered into the lobby. Rather than squeezing into the elevator again, she opted for the stairs. Five flights was no big deal, and it would give him more time to prepare for her unannounced visit.

The takeout bag felt absurd hanging in her oversized grip as she climbed. She hadn't known what to order, so she'd just bought two of the big mix trays, though their idea of a 'party tray' didn't really match hers. It was supposed to feed six, and she could practically fit the whole thing in her jaws. Hopefully there was something he liked. The food last time had been nice, if a bit dainty for her tastes.

When she arrived at the door to his apartment, it swung open before she could knock. Clive balanced on one crutch, his wavy hair hanging smooth and damp to frame his welcoming grin. His shirt was rumpled and half undone, exposing a shock of curled black hair over pale skin. “Hey you! What's this you've got?” He pointed at the bag.

Tally held it up. “Food. Was hoping you hadn't eaten yet.”

“Wow, really? That's awesome, and you have good taste too! Funny, I was just thinking about what to have. Your timing is impeccable.” He opened the door wider, making a one-handed 'after you' gesture. “Please…”

“Thanks. Umm, you might want to...”

“Oh, right.” He shuffled out of the way, allowing her to get inside without crushing him against the wall. The door clicked shut behind her. This was it. Time to find out if her suspicions were correct.

“How's the leg?”

“Better. Doc says I should have the cast off in four weeks instead of five. They'll change it out for a light splint instead.” He spun in a circle on his good foot, balancing with his crutch, finishing with a nod and a wink. “Getting a lot better with these things! It'll be a bit weird without them, but I can't wait to be able to scratch my leg again.”

“I'll bet.” She held up the bag. “Wanna eat?”

“To the point as always!” He grinned. “Not a complaint—it's quite refreshing not to beat around the bush all the time. Yes, let's!” Hobbling into the kitchen, he pulled out plates, a serving spoon, and a fork for himself. “Awfully nice of you to do this, by the way. Were you in the neighbourhood again?”

“Not this time.” Following to the edge of the tiny room, she deposited the bag onto the table. She ought to explain. She really should, but…

Clive nodded as if what she'd said made perfect sense anyway. “I appreciate it all the more then. Is it a weekend for you?”

“Yeah. First night off.”

“Sounds like an occasion for some cold beer then! I'm not exactly working tomorrow either.”

“I'd like that.”

The meal passed with shared enjoyment of seafood and cheap, yet strong beer—just the kind she liked. They exchanged light banter, much like their last meal; though it mostly consisted of him filling in the gaps when she couldn't. Of course, the chairs were far too small for her, but sitting on the floor proved comfortable enough.

Pacing herself to eat as slowly as he did proved more of a challenge. The food was indeed tasty, but did they need to make the pieces so damn small? He hadn't so much as raised an eyebrow as she snacked on three of the morsels to his one, but it still felt grossly uncivilized. The beer helped. By the time she'd downed six—enough to feel mildly buzzed—the crawling self-consciousness began to fade.

“What now then?” Clive leaned back with a contented sigh, dropping his fork to his plate with a clatter.

“Mmm, good question.” She leaned an elbow on the edge of the table, resting her chin in her hand as she studied him. His hair had dried over the course of dinner, leaving it amusingly frizzy. Would it bounce if she patted it?

“Could watch a movie or something, if you want. Can't help but feel like you had something in mind though.”

“Maybe. You said you'd bought a new camera?"

“Yeah!” His face lit up, replacing the languid post-meal contentment. “The insurance came through so I was able to upgrade over my old model! Just got it today; haven't had much chance to play with it yet. Want to see it?”

“Sure.”

“Back in a flash then! Don't worry about the dishes. I'll clean up later if you want to relax on the couch.” Levering himself up with a crutch, he hobbled off into the depths of the apartment, leaving her to heave herself to her feet, stifle a belch (which likely would not have impressed her host), and shift herself to sprawl across the leather couch. It took a bit of effort and twisting about to the groan of springs, but she managed to arrange herself to be almost equally on the abused loveseat and off of it, her legs and tail dangling over the edge while she propped herself up on an elbow. She'd seen a few of the human magazines and ads with woman dressed in skimpy clothes making poses like this. Not strictly provocative, but…

“This baby has features on top of features,” Clive said through the doorway of the adjoining room. His shuffling looked a bit awkward as he carefully balanced a large camera with a wide lens in his hands, juggling the crutch with his elbow, and looking down at the glowing screen. “Interchangeable lenses, 30 to 1/4000th second shutter speeds, variable exposure control, optional custom focus assist, huge ISO range...” He trailed off as he looked up, his dark gaze meeting hers. A brief flicker—breath hitching as he took in her pose, but then he was composed once more. “It has a lot of stuff,” he finished, biting his bottom lip. “Uh, want to take a look?” He held it out. The dangling strap shook slightly.

“Wouldn't know what I'm looking at. Why don't you show me? Wouldn't want to break it.”

“Alright.” He hopped closer, trying to find a 'neutral' place to stand near her, and failing thanks to her repose. A hint of crimson stained his face as he settled for propping himself against the wall by her head, holding the camera out in front of them. The clean, fresh odour of him filled her nose—not disguised by artificial scents, but a bit stronger than normal. Tally hid a toothy smile. She'd been right about him after all.

“See, here's the zoom. And this lets you play with the light balance. This is a timer. This makes it add effects to the image. This…” He pointed to various buttons and dials as he talked, though she barely heard the explanations. Watching his expression was far more interesting as he battled between the passion of sharing his hobby and his clear discomfort with her warm breath tickling across his bared arm.

“...pressure, shock, and waterproof too. Not even sure you could damage this baby severely, to be honest, though I'd prefer you didn't try.” His laugh was a touch high-pitched. He'd only had two of the beers. Was he already drunk?

“Neat. You wanted to try it out, yeah?”

“Absolutely! Need to get familiar with it, and—”

“Go ahead.”

“What?”

“Try it out. Take some pictures of me.”

“Oh. Okay, sure.”

He hopped away a few steps, turned about close to the TV and pointed the wide lens at her. “Say, 'cheese'!”

“Cheese.”

“Oh god, that doesn't work at all for you. Hmm. Try, 'Hoenn'?”

“Hoenn.”

“Nope, that's worse!” He rubbed a hand across his forehead. “Just smile then.”

She did, baring her long teeth. The camera clicked several times. Clive examined the screen for a moment, frowned, and adjusted one of the dials. “Let's try again. Pretend you've just won a lottery or something!”

What the hell would she do with that kind of money? She already had what she needed. Buy a bigger tub maybe? A whole pool?

The camera chattered. Clive made a polite cough. “Okay. Maybe something less far-fetched. Imagine something fun you like to do on your weekends.”

Unbidden, the mental image of Lao floated to the surface. His cock was damn fine, even if he didn't have much in the way of stamina. She looked back to the camera, at the man hiding behind it. Clive looked pretty fit, for a human. She'd heard stories of course. Everyone had. She'd even overheard several of her squaddies discussing in hushed voices the virtues of human females versus pokémon, and she'd seen human dick before. Nothing special, but—

“Um, Tally?”

“Yeah?” She blinked, focusing back on him. He was decidedly more red now. She glanced down. Her free hand had fallen from her hip, and was now resting between her thighs. Not exactly subtle, though that was never her style. She tilted her head to the side, looking up at him. “Something wrong with the picture?”

“Uh, no, they came out great.”

“Good. Maybe a new pose then?” She couldn't help the grin that took over her maw. Rolling herself upright, she sat with her legs spread, rested her elbow on one thigh, and propped her chin up in her palm. “How's this?”

“That's… Uh, great!” His hands shook as he aimed the lens at her, keeping himself propped up on one crutch. The camera chattered like a hungry aipom.

“Cool. How about this?” Half on her back now, one leg went up across the top of the sofa, the other lazily draped over the edge. Her tail curled up between and over her belly, allowing her to fiddle with the tip of it just so…

“Yeah...”

Clickclickclickclickclick!

She must not be very good at this. Lao would have been all over her by now. What else could she do without obviously flaunting herself at him? “Maybe one like this?” Rolling to her feet, she stood and turned around, bracing herself against the wall and arching her back. Gathering up her tail and pulling it up over her hip—not quite enough to expose her rump, but close—she looked back at him while catching the tip of her tail in her maw. “Glah?”

“That's… real nice.”

Click. Clickclick.

Tally let her tailtip fall from her mouth. It landed on the leather of the couch with a hearty smack. “Were those any good?”

“I… I think so.” He'd taken a step back, and was clutching the camera to his chest with his free arm as if his life depended on it.

“You sure? I don't mind if you want a few more.” Turning, she stretched languidly, rolling her shoulders and reaching up. She could just about touch the ceiling.

“No, I think—”

“Could make a pose like the calendar.” Grinning, she advanced a step. “You said you liked that one.”

His eyes were wide, and he glanced to the side as if looking for an escape route. “Yes, but—“

“Need to try out all those fancy features, don't you?” Another step, closing off his angle, though it wasn't as if he could run. “Make sure you catch my best side, or whatever?”

“That's not—”

“Don't you want more shots of me?” Another step. She was looming now, forcing him to look up to meet her half-lidded gaze.

“I—”

“If I'm not pretty enough, you can say it. I won't be mad, promise.”

“God, no. I'm just not sure...”

“Of what?” His scent was tinged with salt. “If I'll let you keep 'em? I told you already that I don't mind.” It was rather cute, the way he squirmed without really moving.

“I kinda got that impression...”

“Good. What will you do with them?”

“What?”

She reached out with a claw, resting it on his shoulder. “Will you look at them later? The way you looked at that calendar picture?”

“I didn't—”

“Tauros shit you didn't. Will you think about me? Imagine what else I might do?” She lowered her maw close to his ear. Whispering didn't always translate well through the collar, but... “Think about what you could do with me?”

“Tally I… Dammit.” He let out a long sigh. Fumbling, he lowered the camera gently to the shelf in front of the TV, keeping himself balanced on his good leg. “What are you after?”

“Same thing as you. Took me a bit to figure it out, but I'm the type to go after what I want, when I know what it is.”

“Yeah. I've noticed that too.” His breathing had quickened, and he kept glancing between her eyes, chest, and the claws now walking down his arm. “Just not sure if you mean what I think you mean, or if this is another one of those social cues I'm missing.”

Hell, was she wrong about this? Humans could be so hard to read. Screw trying to be subtle. “Okay. I like you. Wanna fuck?”

His knee buckled, tenuous balance failing, sending the crutch toppling aside. She reacted on instinct, grabbing him under his shoulder before he could fall and hauling him back up.

They stared at each other from inches away.

Tally glanced down. He was making a credible impression of a rag doll in her grip.

“Sorry.” Gently, she set him back down on his good foot, while keeping him supported.

“Uhh, no problem.” He chuckled, though it came out as a half cough. “Glad you caught me. The doc wouldn't be impressed if I re-broke it.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them moved. Clive swallowed hard, looked up at her, and gave a slow nod. “Yeah.”

“Cool.”

“Bedroom?”

“Yup.” Tally glanced down at the fallen crutch. Fuck that. Bending down, she swept him up in a rescue carry, one arm across his shoulders, the other supporting his thighs. His yelp of surprise was almost as cute as the way he wriggled. “That way?” She nodded at the open door to their right.

“Uh, yes. Damn you're strong.”

“Thanks.”

“Usually it's the guy who carries the lady over the threshold y'know.”

“You'd hurt yourself trying.”

“Probably.”

Shuffling carefully through the door so as not to smack him against the frame, she found herself in a medium sized bedroom with light blue walls, simple furnishings, and a—thankfully—large bed, neatly made. Lumbering over to it, she placed him down as gently as she could, careful not to jostle his leg, and grinned down at him. “Comfy?”

“It'll do.” His own grin wobbled into existence. “Third time now you've carried me to safety. I'll have to repay the favour somehow.”

“Just doing my duty.”

“Does that mean making sure I don't trip over my own feet is your job?”

“Nah. More of a hobby.”

“Not a very exciting one, gotta say.”

“It'll be more so once you stop talking and lose this shit.” She tugged on his shirtsleeve a bit harder than necessary, dragging him towards her. One of the buttons popped. “Arceus dammit...”

Clive chuckled. “Don't worry about it. I know how to sew.” He began undoing the rest, letting the shirt fall away. More dark tousled hair grew across a pale chest, leading down to a smooth belly which was rounded only slightly by fat, hinting at defined muscle below. Another line of hair led from his belly button down to the waistband of his pants. Weird, but cute, the way humans grew hair.

The shirt fluttered away, forgotten. His forearms were darker than the rest of him, and not only because of the hair. He glanced up at her, as if for approval, before taking a deep breath and reaching for the button of his pants.

“It feels weird to be the only one undressing.”

“It'd be weirder for me to wear clothes.”

“Maybe. Could be hot though.”

“Why? They just get in the way.”

“Practical as ever.” He seemed to fumble a bit with the button on his pants, sticking his tongue out the corner of his mouth and eying her as he worked on it.

“Need help with those?”

“No, trying to be slow and sexy. It's not working, is it?”

Tally shrugged. “I'd rather rip them off.”

“Please don't. This is my only pair of jeans right now.” Dispensing with the theatrics, he undid the zip, bent forwards to tug the leg over his cast, and yanked, freeing himself. The pants followed the shirt, and he leaned back with a rather smug grin. “Better?”

“Much.” His erection jutted proudly from a thick shock of hair meeting the trail on his belly. Not huge, but appropriately sized for him. Tally's arousal surged, and she reached for it, but paused, remembering her manners. “May I?”

“Go ahead.”

“Cool.”

Her hand closed around his warm shaft, awarding it a firm squeeze. Clive grunted.

“Too hard?”

“No, that's… mmm. Would hate to arm wrestle you though.”

The image brought a grin to her maw. She'd bested all those willing to try amongst her squad, and had won free drinks against many others in bars besides. She squatted down and leaned on the edge of the bed, lazily massaging Clive's length, appreciating the foreign feel of it. The straight, unfeatured shaft was perhaps a bit dull, but the sensation of the extra layer of skin sliding about promised something new, and his size was pleasant enough. Its spongy firmness fit comfortably in her palm, and while he wouldn't stretch her much, the tip was wider than she'd encountered before. If the stories about human stamina and creativity were to be believed…

“Have you, uhh, done this before?” His breathing was growing heavier, and his hips twitched in time with her squeezes.

“Not with a human. You?”

“Not with a pokémon.”

“Mm.” Her nostrils twitched. Clean male musk—different, yet familiar. “You smell nice.”

“Thanks. Have I mentioned that you're really attractive?”

“Nope.”

“You are.”

“Thanks.” Releasing his shaft to twitch against his belly for a moment, she cupped his sac in her palm, bouncing the contents lightly. Were these supposed to go into her as well? No, they were far too loose for that. She awarded the rolling orbs a generous squeeze, earning a hiss and a twitch from Clive.

“Easy on those!”

“Sorry. Never gotten to play with any before.” She returned to balancing the little pouch in her palm, tilting it back and forth.

“Really? I thought you said… Right. Internals.”

“Yeah. Seems a little dangerous to have them out like this.”

“Never understood it much myself.”

“Feels weird, but kinda fun.” Seeing the whole package, hard and ready for her to enjoy, was oddly satisfying. Her slit tingled, a wet line of arousal dripping down her thigh. A similar glistening graced the tip of his straining rod. What would he do if she…

Dipping down, she plunged the throbbing head into her maw. Clive gasped, his hand clutching reflexively at her snout, his hips bucking. His cock slid along her tongue, trailing delightfully salted flavour. Nowhere near as strong as Lao's and easier to swallow because of it. She bobbed a little lower, exploring his shape with her tongue, smirking around her mouthful at his shudders and grunts until the prickly hairs of his crotch tickled her snout. A bit more, and he was comfortably lodged to the hilt, his balls nudging against her lower jaw while his tip leaked more of that lovely savour across her tongue.

“H-holy shit, Tally...”

“Mmm?” She glanced up, suckling on her mouthful, and took in his strained expression. Tucking his straining shaft beneath her tongue to keep it where she wanted, she mumbled, “Something wrong?”

“N-no, but if you keep going like that...”

“Oh! Already?”

He flushed, glancing away. “Y-yeah. Been a while, with the whole leg thing.”

“Okay.” Either the stories about humans were exaggerated or she was better at sexy poses than she thought. Shrugging, she wrapped her tongue around his length once more, redoubling her efforts.

“Ah hell...”

His hips strained, humping against her muzzle, his hands fluttering as he alternated between petting her cheeks and gripping the blanket. Moving with him was easy enough, her snout bumping into his belly, her lewd slurping contained within her maw. When she'd done this with Lao, he'd gone wild when she flicked her tongue along the underside, just… like… so…

“Oh god, I'm sorry Tally, I… I…” He trailed off into a wordless groan. His shaft twitched, swelling against her enthusiastic lapping. Clive shuddered. Thick, salty cream spurted over the back of her palate, pooling along her wide tongue. It was stickier than she was used to, and a bit warmer, the bursts noticeably tepid to the taste.

Her nose filled with the heady aroma of male satisfaction, fed by the rhythmic pulses of seed, until the flow turned to a weak dribble, his final droplets adding to the small mouthful he'd given her. She held still for a moment, rolling it around her tongue. Certainly less than Lao's runny loads, but that was alright. The sensation of jizz drooling from her maw wasn't one she was overly fond of, and this heavier stuff was a novelty. She gulped around Clive's spent shaft, swallowing the mess. She could feel it sliding down her throat! Not unpleasant, but a little unexpected.

“Wow.” Clive was staring down at her, wide-eyed, breathing hard. “That was… wow.”

“Mmm?” She could still taste a bit of the salt. Swirling her tongue around his softening length did the trick, gathering up the remaining flavour and earning a twitch and a gasp in the process. “Wath ith that 'ood?”

“Are you kidding? I've never felt anything like that. And the way you just… devoured it. Hot damn.”

He'd gone almost completely flaccid now. Pulling off with a last suckle to clean up any leftovers, she sat up with a grin. “Enjoyed watching, huh?”

“Hell yes. If I could've gotten that on film...”

“Later, maybe.”

“You serious?”

“Sure. Told you I don't mind.” It was flattering in truth.

“You're pretty amazing, Tally.”

She shrugged and rested a hand on his thigh, idly playing with his softened tool with one finger. Perhaps there was something to be said for external junk. How long would it take for him to get hard again?

“Hey, do you mind if I...” He looked down towards her lazily swishing tail. “I'm pretty curious to be honest.”

“Alright.” Standing, she stretched expansively, popping her back. “Shove over a bit.”

He all but scrambled to the other side of the bed, moving as fast as his immobilized leg would allow and sitting up against the headboard. He patted the vacated space on the bed invitingly, a grin spread across his face.

Tally clambered up next to him, inwardly wincing at the aggrieved sounds the bed made and how much it sagged beneath her. This was why she'd had her own bed made as a custom job. Still, it held, and once she stretched out opposite to Clive, with her feet resting on the pillows, the spread weight caused a noise much like a sigh of relief from the mattress.

Well, fuck the bed too. She was getting some whether it liked it or not. She looked down at Clive, who had rolled to his side to better admire her, a glint of pure desire in his eyes.

“This may sound kinda weird,” he said, “But you look damn fine like this. Just going to...” He mimed holding a camera. “Click! Perfect. Feraligatr en repose. It's a true masterpiece.”

She snorted. “Only if you have low standards.”

“Hey, I'll have you know I have the highest of standards! I only use lossless image files!”

“That's good. If you lost your pictures, you wouldn't be a very good photographer.”

He chuckled. Leaning forward, he reached for her, hovering his hand over her thigh until she realized what he was after and gave a nod. Exhaling slowly, he rested his palm just above her knee and gave a light squeeze. “You really are too hard on yourself you know.”

Warmth. His hand was incredibly warm sliding over the scales of her hip. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and all that, but you are truly striking. These curves...” The hand slid up her hip, moving in a semicircle over her belly. “That raw power...” Crossing to her other thigh, he tried to knead the firm muscle, barely managing to dimple her scales. “This brilliant colour...” His fingers traced the contours of her inner thigh, pausing briefly at one of the lines of moisture she'd leaked, then moving on as though nothing had happened.

“Not to mention your selflessness, courage, refreshing honesty, and your sheer level of badass.” Those fingers were wandering higher, creeping up towards her exposed sex. “Oh, and did I mention your lovely eyes? Those are quite nice.”

Tally grunted. Damn this teasing, and damn him for making this warmth spread in her chest! “You don't have to flatter me to get between my legs. I already said you could.”

“I know, but you need to hear this.” His hand stopped agonizingly short of her aching mound. Leaning down, he planted a kiss on her knee without taking his eyes off her. “You blame yourself for things that aren't your fault, and it has you thinking poorly of yourself all the time. I want to show you how amazing you truly are, you sexy gal. Please?”

He was completely serious. Something inside her, which had been an apricorn hard ball ever since Ilya's death, cracked. “If I say 'yes', will you stop talking about how great I am with your mouth and start talking with your hands?”

He chuckled, gripping her leg firmly. “Seems like a fair deal, though I can probably manage both.”

“Fine.”

“Fantastic.” His gaze slid from hers, down to where his hand rested. “And speaking of sexy…” The warmth of his fingers finally crossed the final distance, circling reverently around the raised mound of her sex, tracing the aroused lips. “I won't lie—I had a picture in my head of what this might look like ever since I saw that calendar picture, but this is far nicer.”

She grunted, unable to help a grin. “Ha! Thought so. What were you expecting?”

He hummed softly, his tongue slipping out as he continued to circle her slit with delicate rubs. “A basic little slit, I guess. Just a slot in the scales. Not human, certainly, and not like the other pokémon bits I've seen—not that I've seen many, I'm not the kind of guy who goes looking for that sort of thing.”

“Yet you had the calendar...”

“Yes, well...” He flushed, the circling of his fingers turning to a three-fingered stroke from bottom to top, making her shiver. “I'll admit I've been poké-curious for awhile. Stumbled across a few pictures, read a couple of stories, that sort of thing. I really did buy the calendar for the photography, and because I was interested in how they would balance the more… steamy elements, considering these sorts of relationships are still a bit controversial.”

“And my picture turned you on?”

“More than I expected any of them to.” He winked up at her. “Like I said, you're a sexy gal. Maybe it helps that you fit a body type that I happen to like. It wasn't until after I met you that my imagination started to run wild though. Funny—had I run into you on the street, I might not have thought twice about it, though I certainly would have been impressed. But, between that picture, what you did, and talking to you...” Shrugging, he withdrew his hand momentarily, holding it up and letting out a low whistle. “Holy shit, are you always this wet?” Moisture glistened from his fingers, a bead of it coalescing to drip onto the blanket.

“When I'm horny? Guess so.”

“Hot damn.” With a quizzical frown, he popped his fingers into his mouth, suckling them clean. “Not as fishy as I expected either. Guess I can't make the usual wisecracks.”

“I don't eat much fish.”

“No, it's…” He shook his head. “Nevermind. Going to need to try more of that.”

This was something new. Lao had been much more inclined to rely on his dick rather than anything else to please her. Granted, it was a pretty awesome dick, but… “All yours.”

“Don't mind if I do.”

One hand on her thigh, he dipped back in, all pretense of teasing forgotten. A pair of fingers slipped inside her, easily disappearing to the knuckle with a wet shlick! Tally grunted, her legs spreading wider of their own accord as the agile invaders poked around her entrance, ripples of pleasure spreading up through her passage. He was gentle—almost aggravatingly so—slowly pumping his fingers and gradually circling the soft flesh.

“You're not gonna break it.”

He laughed. “I suppose not. Going slowly means you find interesting things though.” Those questing fingertips rested on a small, firm nub at the top of her slit, hidden just behind the lips. “Like this here.”

His fingers curled and Tally arched, a growling gasp escaping her as her loins seemed to buzz with ecstasy.

“Woah… Did you just…?”

Blinking, Tally shook her head. “No, but do that again.”

“Gladly.” A third finger met the first two, squeezing the nub between them. Tally's tail thrashed, slapping the side of the bed, her passage clenching. It was almost like being on the receiving end of a thundershock, but not at all painful.

“So, uh...”

She looked up as pressure of his fingers withdrew. He held them up again. His entire hand and wrist dripped clear liquid.

“Still no, but it felt damn good.”

“I gathered.” He winked. “Guess I'll need to change the blanket later.”

“Sorry.”

“You kidding? This is hot as hell.” He brought hand to mouth once more, lapping up the excess juices.

Her gaze trailed down to his groin, where his maleness stood proud and tall once more. She couldn't contain a smirk. Well, he was certainly honest. “No one's touched me like that before.”

“Not even yourself?”

“Nope.” She waggled her fingers at him. “Claws. And my other partner didn't have fingers as such.” Until she'd met Lao, she'd often been left to the frustrating inadequacy of her knuckles, or slow, careful rubbing.

“That's gotta be a crime or something. A gorgeous gal like you and no one's pleasured your clit before?”

“Is that what it's called?”

He gave her a look like she'd sprouted a second head. “Okay. We need to fix this, pronto.” His fingers were at her mound again, three of them nudging against her now aching entrance. “You know how it feels good to have something in here, yeah?” Those exploring digits pressed inward, sinking into her slickness.

“Of course.” She clenched a bit, savouring the small bit of penetration.

“I'm not really an expert, but from what I understand, most of that sensation comes from the clit.” He did something clever with his hand, cupping it, fingertips massaging her inner walls while the heel of his hand undulated against that concealed nub.

“Cool.” Tally loosed a lustful growl, grinding into the stimulation, humping his hand. The ecstasy rolled like the tide, tiny swells of pleasure buoying her up, up, up…

“Apparently it's pretty powerful juju.” His fingers didn't stop, flexing across the rippled contours of her passage. “I'm enjoying those noises too.”

She could only grunt, her thoughts hazy and scattered. More… she needed more of his touch. She bucked, clamping down on his hand, her juices free flowing. Responding to her unspoken demand, he sped up, thrusting those twitching fingers into her, pleasuring her aroused passage. Her tail thrashed, slapping the side of the bed, her own tangy scent burning in her nose. It was never like this, never so fast, so powerful, so… so…

“Don't hold back for my sake. I want to give this to you. I want to see you lose control a litt—”

“Ferallll!” Words were gone, lost to the rising crash of ecstasy. Her legs twitched, her hips thrusting of their own accord, driving him deeper inside her. How could it feel so incredible with nothing to fill those deeper spots, nothing for her sensitive walls to rub and milk? The tension in her loins roiled, the blissful release so near, yet so far…

“C'mon Tally, cum for me. Please?”

A second touch, aiding the digits now gleefully fingerfucking her. He found her clit, seized it between two fingers, and twisted. A beautiful riptide of sensations seized her entire body with inexorable force. Tally let out a primal snarl and lost herself to the flow. Starbursts popped in her vision. She thrashed, chased the pleasure, her back arched, tail whipping about, while her sex gripped those wonderful fingers again and again, seeking more of it, more of him. Something far away crashed to the floor and a voice yelled something she didn't hear. She only needed to swim with the incredible current, let it own her, surrender to these amazing feelings…

Soft murmurs. A ripple in the pond. Tally surfaced, gasping as though she'd been submerged too long, trembling in the wake of her release. Smaller aftershock waves rolled languidly through her loins, causing her to twitch and grunt. She felt like she'd just run up a skyscraper in full gear.

“Shh, it's okay. You were great. Amazing, even. I think you needed that. Damn, girl...”

Clive was still lying on his side, and though he was a bit wide-eyed, his expression was lit by that cheery grin. One hand was slowly stroking her thigh while the other continued to delve into her sex, explaining the continued buzz in her loins, adding to the warm pleasure seeping through her. Most of his arm was dripping wet, and judging by the dampness of her thighs, he'd only caught part of it.

Summoning language from the fog muddling her thoughts, she said, “What the hell did you just do to me?”

“From the looks of it, gave you an amazing orgasm.”

“Yeah, but...”

He waggled his glistening fingers at her. “Magic touch, beautiful. And knowing a little bit of anatomy helps.”

“No kidding.”

“Please tell me that wasn't your first orgasm.”

“Nah. But first one like that.” Propping herself up on her elbow, she surveyed the damage. The small dresser which had been next to the bed was overturned, and the blankets between her thighs were sopping. “Damn. Hell of a mess.”

“Don't worry about it.” He was suckling his fingers again, his smile now decidedly smug. The fingertips resting in her entrance wiggled, teasing, producing lewd squelches.

Even with the satisfaction of afterglow melting its way through her body, her loins tingled with a fresh, unquenched need; a spark, kindling into a blaze. Her gaze trailed down his chest, following that dark line of curly hair until it fixed on his jutting manhood. Her throat rattled in a growl of pure lust. That was hers. Now.

“Tally?”

The bed squealed in protest as she whipped about. Clive barely had time to yelp as she rolled herself over, coming to land in a predatory crouch overtop of him, her snout resting against his nose as she stared down into his wide eyes, her legs straddling his hips. Her tail smacked the bed, sending ripples through the mattress, and settled between his feet.

Clive cleared his throat. “Okaaay, hi.” His hands came up defensively, hovering above her shoulders. “Whatever it was, I didn't mean it. Please don't eat me?”

“You're cute.” Her voice might not even translate with so much husky growl. Her tail slammed down once more, bouncing them lightly. “I'm gonna ride you now.”

“Y-yeah...” His gaze dipped down, then fluttered back to hers. “Guess you are.”

She was already rolling her hips, searching for him. Something firm nudged her mound, kissing her entrance. Yes! She dipped, but it slipped away, merely teasing her lips. Another short bounce and that warm shaft slid into position once more, prodding her lips…

Squelch!

Tally snarled, glaring at him. “Hold fucking still!”

“I'm trying! Here, let me...” Reaching down, he fiddled a bit. That solid presence reasserted itself, probing her slickness. “There.”

She dropped, claiming him.

Clive gasped, matching her own pleased groan as his straining length slid home. He snatched his hand away, allowing her to press down, joining his intimacy with hers until their loins met, wiry hair tickling her outer lips. Tally growled, settling in place with a wiggle of her hips. A squeeze of her inner muscles, sampling him, testing his delightful girth…

Clive sucked in a labored breath, looking a little bug-eyed.

She shot him a fierce grin. “Good?”

He nodded, but hissed as she rocked her hips, grinding into him.

Of course, she'd need to be a little gentle with him, take things a bit slower. Balancing on her knees, she rose until she was nearly upright, bracing herself on the wall to help keep her weight off his belly.

“Better?”

He nodded vigorously, gasping a relieved breath.

“Sorry.”

“I'll live. Keep going? Please?”

“Hell yes.” A push of the thighs, and she savored the length of his smooth, firm flesh, its titillating friction across the sensitive walls of her passage. A flick of her tail, and she was easing back down, burying him deep. It stroked in such different ways, the receding flesh teasing her clenching walls on the way out, delving and soothing on the way in, filling the space she needed filled. He wasn't nearly as large as Lao at the base, and not as long either, but the uniform shape meant every part of her depths he could reach felt the same delight, was allowed to clench and milk him equally.

“You feel incredible,” Clive murmured, his hands resting on her knees.

Her hips circled, sheathing him within her. Blazing heat rolled from their union, settling in her chest. What was it about him? Why did he make her feel so… wanted? The shaft within her pulsed, liquid warmth etching her passage. She grunted, trying to find something to say and failing, settling for another circle, a fresh joining of their bodies, seeking the means to express herself through action instead.

“God… You amazing, beautiful girl...”

Blood rushed in Tally's ears and snout, her maw hanging open, a thin stream of water dribbling over her jaw. She had to be calm, cool… Not too rough. The fire in her loins roared, stirred by her slow glide up and down his shaft. She needed it doused. She needed him. Adjusting her angle, she bounced, using the bed. Their hips met with a wet smack. Raw pleasure flared.

Clive grunted.

Again, she drove them together, riding him, her eyes half closed. Skin kissed scales. Feminine juices spurted free. Gentle, gentle, but harder too. Her legs were shuddering, passion nearly overwhelming control. The bed groaned as she claimed her prize again.

Smacksquelch!

“A-ah.”

The fingers on her knees were gripping tight. Her nostrils quivered with the scent of their shared pleasure. She gyrated, shaking the bed, shoving him deep…

Smacksquelchcrack!

Clive made a noise something like a whimper. Arceus yes… That wonderful cock spreading her, easing the hollow ache, battering back the fire. Tally growled, singing her appreciation to him, granting him permission to finish inside her, to sate her. Her thighs quivered, barely holding her steady before dropping her again…

SmacksquelchCRUNCH!

Tally paused, blinking. Had that been wood splintering? Something beneath them shifted.

Uh-oh.

She didn't dare move, balancing atop of Clive, a steady stream of water spilling over her jaw to drip to his chest. He was biting his lip, eyes squeezed shut. Slowly, she let her weight settle, resting astride Clive's hips.

Creeeeeeak.

Thank Arceus, the bed held. Tally huffed, trying to hide her annoyance. Damn flimsy shit... “Sorry, bit of a mood killer.” She clenched, massaging his buried shaft. “How's that feel?”

His eyelids fluttered open. He glanced down at their union, then up at her, giving a weak nod. “Good!” It came out almost as a squeak, and he was trembling, the death grip on her knees slipping across her scales.

Wait, that wasn't just pleasure on his face. Heck. “Too much for your leg?”

“N-no.”

She shook her head. Males. Couldn't admit it when they were suffering. Sighing, she levered herself up. She'd been so careful too! Letting his twitching rod fall free of her tingling folds was agonizing, but she couldn't keep going like this. Either the bed would break or he would. “I've got an idea.”

“Yeah?” He sucked in a long breath, the colour seeping back into his cheeks.

“Hope this isn't too weird.” The bed made some rather alarming sounds as she carefully stepped over him and turned about, but it continued to hold. Lao had been really surprised when she suggested this, but had seemed to enjoy it well enough once he got past the strangeness. Clive's face fit well between her thighs, her tail settled just behind his head, while she balanced on her elbows above his bobbing length. “You said you liked the taste? Why don't you have some more and fuck my mouth?”

“Holy shit, yes.” Trembling hands gripped her rump, tugging her down. “You gorgeous, selfless creature. C'mere...”

A chuckle rose in her throat. His hair tickled the underside of her tail, but he was positioned perfectly. “Okay.”

She clenched the muscles of her tail, as if to tuck it tight beneath her legs. Warmth and pressure shoved against her dripping snatch. Clive made a strangled noise, shuddering.

“Comfy?”

“Mmm!” The hands on her rump squeezed and tugged. A wet softness slid along her entrance, teasing the inner flesh. He dug into her sex, lapping away like he was dying of thirst, sparking flashes of delight through her loins, his breath hot and eager across her lips.

Tally grunted. Fancy that. He truly did enjoy the taste.

His unattended cock twitched, vying for her attention. It was still slick with her nectar, but the turgid head bubbled with a thicker fluid, its salty musk teasing her nostrils. Come to think of it, she was a bit thirsty as well. She opened her mouth and claimed him once more.

Obscene, wet sounds filled the room as they competed, racing for the other's pleasure. Tally buried her nose in his tight sac, revelling in the raw aroma of him while she undulated her tongue around his pulsing maleness. Her rump clenched, tightening her tail on the back of her lover's head, shoving him into her cleft. His tongue didn't cease, pressing into her and working its way forward, following the curve of her lips. The blaze in her loins roared back to life, urged on by his wanton attention, her juices streaming free into his waiting mouth while her hips shook with the growing ecstasy…

Don't you dare, don't you dare make me cum first…

She snarled around his length, firming her hold on it. The briny savour of his pre dripped across her tongue and his sac twitched against her nose. He fit so easily into her maw, his tip resting comfortably short of her throat. It was oddly satisfying to play with a male this way, to see how he'd shudder or groan, to control him with nothing more than her tongue. Clive offered her a new toy as well. She dipped her hand between his thighs, cupping his balls and awarding them a light squeeze, wriggling her tongue wildly. His hips shuddered, a grunt vibrating into her clenching snatch. She nearly had him…

Wet pressure nudged her clit. Tally stiffened, seized by the shock of bliss. Oh Arceus… Clive was panting, the sound muffled as he clutched her rear. A small twitch, a minute shift of weight, and the flat of his tongue rasped over her exposed nub. Tally bucked, nearly losing him from her maw, but kept her tail tight, clamping him in place.

Ohshitohshitohshit.

He attacked with firm, steady laps, frantic to please her, breath hot across her mound. The ecstasy in her loins flared. Tally roared, desperate to hold on, squeezing with tongue and tail at once…

The tidal wave broke. Ripples undulated through her passage, warm bliss rolling up, swelling through her belly, bursting into her chest, boiling through her neck and filling her to the brim. All she could do was ride it, her intent to please him lost to the overwhelming cascade of sensation, her body arching and tensing again, and again, and again, grinding into him for more of this amazing feeling...

Her chest was heaving, small twitches testing her quivering arms as the mighty climax ebbed away. Vaguely, as though it were happening to a different self, she tasted salty warmth flowing across her tongue; spurt after thick spurt, marking her own success. Fine. She'd allow him the victory, this time. One last jet of seed fell across her palate, then his pulsing length subsided, drizzling its final contents. A gulp sent the savoury load down her throat to join his earlier contribution. Not a bad taste at all. Certainly not one she'd complain about.

Aside from her own heavy breathing, it was oddly quiet. His face was still shoved tight to her sex, held in place by her clamped tail. He wasn't licking any more, instead simply humming against her lower lips and clit, while his hands patted her ass. Quite pleasant, actually, stirring a fizzing delight through her folds, which now felt wonderfully sated.

Wait. Hadn't he been panting before? And those pats were getting a bit of force to them, more like shoves…

Shit.

Tally unfurled her tail, and Clive dropped limply to the bed, wheezing. His hands fluttered down her thighs like wounded pidgeys.

She let his softening cock fall from her maw, guilt staining the warm haze of pleasure settling over her as she twisted about to look down at him. “Arceus. You okay?”

He coughed, tried to nod, and coughed some more. His hair was once again damp and slicked down, his face coated in excess juices. The pillow beneath his head hadn't fared much better. After a moment, he drew a long, steady breath, and looked up at her. His lips twitched upwards, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“I never thought I would be into breath play, but damn.”

“I'm so sorry, I wasn't trying to—”

He waved a hand to cut her off, then smacked her rump. “Stop that! It was well worth nearly drowning in bed. I don't think I've blown that hard since… well, ever. Not to mention how awesome it is to make you cum like that.”

“Like a fire hose?”

“You'd know better than me.”

She couldn't help but chuckle. “Guess so.” With the ecstatic high fading, fatigue in her arms and legs began to take its place. She swung herself up and off of him, ignoring the bed's grumbling and settling herself on her belly by his side, sprawled across the messy and disheveled bedspread. They looked at one another, both content to share the quiet satisfaction of their act; mutually worn out, yet happy.
 Clive reached up, tracing the line of her jaw. His nail tickled, but she didn't flinch away, instead resting a hand on his head and stroking his damp hair. The urge to pull him close rose suddenly, to clutch him to her chest like something precious. There was that leg though, and moving would break this wonderful moment. She settled for running her hand down his back, squeezing lightly.

His touch slid down to her chest, drawing little circles across her scales. Humans were strange in a lot of ways, but it was a good strange most of the time. Some more so than others.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

“For what?”

“Just thanks.”

“Oh.” He wore a mystified expression, but that was okay. He'd figure it out eventually. “Should we uh… talk about this?” He gestured vaguely downwards. “About what this means? About us?”

“Nope. Not right now.” This moment wasn't for such things.

“That's fair.” Sighing happily, he wiggled a little closer, laying an arm across her belly. “Besides, lets me appreciate this a bit longer.”

A strange sensation swelled in her chest. Things didn't need to be complicated. They could figure it out later. Wrapping her forearm about his shoulders, she hugged him tight, pressing him against her chest and belly. He grunted, but didn't pull away, instead relaxing into her grip, skin warm against her scales.

“Whatever this is, you can bring me takeout any time,” he mumbled into her ear.

Tally grinned, awarding him a possessive squeeze on his pert rump. “My bed's bigger than this one, and sturdier.”

“Point taken. My turn next time. Small price for the chance to see you again.”

“I'd like that.”

“Call it a date.”

“Still need to take more pictures too.”

“Damn girl, I'm beginning to think you might be an exhibitionist.”

“No, I'm a feraligatr.”

“That's not—”

Chuckling, she patted his ass gently. It was quite nicely shaped and the little smacking noises were rather fun. “I know, cutie.”

“Damn that dry wit.” He shook his head. “Sometimes hard to tell with the translations.”

“You'll get used to it.” A thought struck her. “You still need a place to live, right?”

“Long term? Yeah. I only have this place for a couple more weeks. Been a bit tough to search, what with the leg and all." The random patterns his hand was stroking along her side stilled. "Are you offering?"

 "Dunno. Maybe." Was it growing warmer all of a sudden? Maybe the heat had turned on.

"Not that I'm opposed to the idea, but wouldn't that be a bit soon?" His lips brushed her chest. "Plus, I'm not too struck on being a burden."
 
A tightness closed in her throat. Things had been fine and she'd had to make it all weird. "Sorry, you're right. Bad idea. My place might not be comfy for you either. I don't have much." A bed, a tub, and a microwave, along with a TV and couch. All she needed, but not exactly what a human would be used to.

"Let's go with a third date first. Or would it be fifth?" He chuckled. "Depends on what counts. My taste is pretty poor if our first date was at the hospital."
 
"Sixth, if the fire counts."
 
"Wow. I really don't take you anywhere nice, do I?"
 
Tally snorted. "Thought we went over this. I like it simple."
 
"I suppose so. Still, I'd like to try treating you again sometime." He stretched up to plant a kiss on her neck. "Can't let you wear the pants all the time."
 
"I don't… That's an expression, isn't it?"
 
"Yup." He laughed. "Though now I'm picturing you in—"

Tally shook her head, giving him a firmer smack on the ass and cutting him off in a yelp. Humans!

"Okay, I deserved that." Another kiss brushed her chin. "All I'm saying is, I'd love to spend more time with you."
 
"You know..." She tapped her claws on his lower back, considering. "You could come work for the FD if you wanted."
 
"Me? A firefighter?" Clive made a disparaging noise with his tongue. "I'm not really the athletic sort."
 
"Nah. We need a photographer on the scene. Records, insurance pictures, stuff like that. We usually freelance it out, but I could talk to the chief, put in a good word for you. Be better to have the same person doing it."
 
"Seriously? I'd never even heard of that. That could be a lot of fun." His tone dropped into a low purr. "Especially since it means watching you in action. Bet it's sexy as hell."
 
A laugh bubbled out of her, shaking the two of them. "Don't think the chief would appreciate a bunch of pictures of my ass."

"You sure? It's an amazing ass."

"So I've heard."

Clive's arms tightened around her, squeezing hard. She returned the gesture, conscious of the need to hold back—much as she wanted to grip him until he made one of those cute squeaks and never let go. The warm contours of his body felt so right pressed against her. It didn't matter that they were so different, in almost every way.
 
"You know," Clive murmured after a contented moment, "This might sound a bit weird, but I'm glad for the fire. Even the leg."
 
"Really? Why?"
 
He wiggled against her, his cast bumping along her leg. "Sure, I lost some things, but nothing important. Nothing that can't be replaced or healed." A hand on her snout, pulling her to look down, to meet his dark eyes, take in his wide grin. "Are you going to make me say it? I think you know why."
 
Tally's muzzle split in a matching grin—though with a fair bit more fang than Clive's. A soft growl rolled in her throat.
 
"Yeah. I do."