The person behind the desk was…not what she’d been expecting. It would be obvious to Jasper in the way she double-taked that he had caught her off guard. She’d been expecting someone like Althea—a messy dresser, and looking even more rumpled from a morning spent working with pokemon. But this wasn’t who greeted her.

This guy looked professional. The vest, in particular, reminded her of those grease-slick young entrepreneurs who’d stuck to her parents’ sides like binacles. But he had a different energy than them, other than the obvious age difference. He looked like someone who belonged where he was. More than that, he knew it, and he was perfectly secure where he was. The guy just looked so relaxed, even as formal as he was.

How could you possibly be so secure with yourself? It was a mystery. Envy sparked in her stomach for a second, but she pushed it down, replacing it with a more temperate curiosity, which hit her all the more as they regarded each other. Just as she sized him up, he unapologetically returned the favor. Her natural defensiveness pricked its ears, but just as strange as everything else about the man, there was nothing judgmental in his gaze. It was appraising without being dismissive, sharp without being aggressive. If there had been more warmth in his eyes, he would have looked exactly like Kulech.

Rosalind didn’t understand this guy at all, but she immediately liked him. More than that, she thought she even respected him. And respect was still a very new thing to her, so that was saying something.

She nodded at the mention of paperwork, biting back the urge to joke about bureaucracy. She was afraid that wouldn’t go over very well. Besides, it just didn’t feel right, trying to joke around with someone so dignified. As he strode over over to her, she stood a little taller, almost like a cadet snapping to attention as the commander approached. Rosalind was not a tall person, and very slight, so Jasper’s tall, confident command of the space was a sharp contrast. But there wasn’t any whiff of gross alpha male posturing on him, which left her feeling surprisingly safe.

Her smile took on a more bashful flavor as she accepted the offered clipboard and pen. ”Thanks! Nice to meet ya, Jasper.” Jasper? For some reason, she’d assumed he was going to introduce himself with his last name. He just had that kind of vibe. She shrugged it off, and turned to the paperwork. ”Give me a sec.” The forms weren’t ridiculously long, but she still felt pretty awkward, silently filling in boxes while a stranger looked on. But she supposed they couldn’t just hand out pokemon to whoever walked in the door without keeping some kind of records. That would be stupidly dangerous to the starters, if nothing else.

She just hoped Jasper wouldn’t recognize her last name. Most people didn’t know the Caldwell’s, but the way he looked, maybe he had some business connections. Maybe he knew about her mom’s breeding projects, and would refuse to give her a starter on principle. She wouldn’t blame him.

But that was almost impossible. At least, she hoped it was, as she offered the filled forms back to Jasper with a faux-casual, ”That it?”

The cheeky “That it?” had barely left her mouth when someone cleared their throat behind her. Rosalind jumped, nearly knocking the papers out of Jasper’s hands. ”Sorry, sorry” she mumbled with a nervous giggle, and watched as the man strode away, pausing only to hand said nearly-scattered forms to someone else. This new arrival was short, round, and looked way more like someone who worked with pokemon than the sharp-dressed guy.

In the back of her brain, a familiar voice scoffed at the stranger's choice in bangs. She shut the monologue down with a mental growl of annoyance.

The woman was smiling—genuinely, warmly—and despite lingering embarrassment from the earlier shock (she knew she was jumpier than a normal person should be; she just really didn’t like getting snuck up on), she returned the grin. ”Hi Tate! Thanks for the help.” Gotta say, she was a little disappointed that Mr. Business had wandered off. But on the bright side, Tate was way less intimidating. And with how stressful this whole situation was, facing a decision that would (for better or worse) change her life dramatically, it was nice to have one less thing to worry about.

Of course, just as Rosalind was starting to feel comfortable again, Tate started rattling off questions. She was grateful that the assistant had her back turned, because the first one made her tense, and she was sure an uncomfortable expression must have slipped onto her face. She hadn’t been expecting an interview. Especially not with that kind of question. She really shouldn’t have been surprised—she just wished Althea had prepped her for this.

Don’t lie. Don’t lie. Just be vague. Schooling her face into something carefully neutral, she took a steadying breath. ”I mean, I grew up around pokemon. My mom was…” An abusive megalomaniac? An affront to all that is good and ethical? ”…a breeder.” The word came out in an odd tone. Not quite sarcastic, but not casual, either. She hurried on, ”So I’m familiar with a lot of species. But I’ve never battled, or done coordinating, or any of that. I’m not super in to it.” Not that either of those things was bad, necessarily. But from working with Althea, she’d seen the gross sides of both.

The next question had her breathing easier; this was something she actually liked talking about. If Tate was glancing her way, she’d see Rosalind brighten considerably as she prepped to answer. ”Anyway, I’m doing this to get experience as a pokemon counselor. I work with Althea Stump in Rigel. Maybe you’ve heard of her?” She’d said that some of her clients ended up in Peaceberry and various starter programs. ”According to her, hands-on experience is the best way to learn that kind of stuff.” This she punctuated with a shrug, as she fiddled self-consciously with her bracelets.

”Can’t say I have a favorite type, but I love dogs! I was” Am. ”good friends with an arcanine,” she offered by way of explanation. As she talked, she rocked onto the balls of her feet, peering over Tate’s shoulder. The cabinets were full of polished capsules—a sight so familiar that it make her stomach knot up. But these pokeballs weren’t the extravagant, custom-made ones her family had hoarded their collection in. They were painted in basic red and white. How…unpretentious. And she was sure these guys got way more sunlight than her family’s had. Althea had sung praises about how high the lab’s ethical standards were.

It was almost enough to make her wonder if she was really doing her future starter any favors, taking them out of here.

Rosalind shifted on her feet, pausing for a second at Tate’s follow-up question. Yeah, that did sound a little suspicious, didn’t it? Real breeders, the decent ones, were usually specialized—because real breeders cared about the health and happiness of their charges, and each species needed something different for that end. Or so she was beginning to learn. Althea had been very patient in teaching her the basics of all that, but whoever her starter ended up being, she knew she would need to beg more specialized advice out of the lady.

”Yeah, she didn’t really specialize,” she responded after a moment, clearing her throat. ”She was more of a dabbler. And she had lots of breeder friends who would bring their p-“ She caught herself about to say “projects.” Her mom had always used that word. Her pokemon all hated it, of course. ”-okemon around, so I was introduced to plenty from them.” Maybe she was actually going to make it through this without telling any bold-faced lies. That was just enough of the truth to be satisfying, but not enough that she’d be forced into a highly uncomfortable conversation. ‘Cause that was the last thing she wanted today.

She would much rather talk about counseling, and Tate gave her an open opportunity there. Hearing the job called “noble” was enough to set Rosalind glowing, and she fairly bounced on her toes. ”I think so! Like, with how many pokemon there are in this region, and so many nasty nut jobs out to hurt them, it’s probably good to have folks out there trying to help, y’know?” Her tone was bold, a stark change from her earlier hesitance. ”So yeah, I’m planning on keeping an eye out for pokemon who really need the extra help. Or, what help I can offer. I’m not a professional yet, so I’ll be getting a lot of advice from my boss.”

She couldn’t really offer much in the way of trained care; none of the focused, deliberate therapy that she’d seen Althea do. But she wasn’t a gym rat or a contest star, so she wouldn’t have any ambitions to put ahead of the health of her team. And that had to count for something, right?

Rosalind hadn’t realized she’d edged so close to Tate until the woman turned on her, curtly asking her to back off. Cheeks flushing red, she backpedaled. ”Oh! So sorry!” Great job, Rosalind. Way to look shifty, sidling over to the pokeball shelves like that. Almost like she wanted to look like a thief. Nervously brushing an imaginary strand of hair from her face, she watched as the woman selected one of the balls, releasing a buneary.

Her welcoming smile transitioned to a giggle as said buneary immediately began flirting. Oh Arceus, she liked this guy. But she didn’t have time to say anything before a second pokemon was let out: a bulbasaur, of all things! It was actually a little jarring to see one with a completely normal-looking bulb. One of her mom’s associates had taken to selectively breeding for the most extreme flowers, and he’d enjoyed showing them off.

But this bulbasaur was happy and seemingly healthy, and currently admiring her pedicure. Still grinning, Rosalind wiggled her toes. ”Thanks! I just got this done yesterday. I wanted to look nice for you all.” She winked at Buneary, then looked back to Bulbasaur. ”You much for fashion? If so, you should really head to the city, ‘cause the shopping is lousy here. I walked from one side of the village to the other today, and didn’t see so much as a single cute boutique,” she lamented idly. Of course, it was probably for the best. Who knew how much money she would have blown on therapy shopping if she’d had the chance.

But what was she doing, talking about clothes? What a fantastic way to look petty. She was probably making a horrible first impression on these two, wasn’t she? Still fidgeting absently, she went on. ”But anyway, my name’s Rosalind! I’m here looking for a starter. But you could probably guess that,” she added with a small laugh. ”So, what’re you interested in doing? When you leave the lab, I mean.” It seemed like a good question to ask. If either of them wanted to fight in tournaments or anything crazy like that, it was better to disappoint them now rather than later. But with any luck, they might have ambitions that she could actually help with. Or at least ones she wouldn’t utterly quash.

Rosalind shot a grateful smile in Tate’s direction. The assistant was being way nicer than she expected her to be, especially with her being all shady and evasive. Not that she’d ever call knowing her mom a “privilege”—but she appreciated the thought.

Regardless, though, she was happy to have the conversation move on to something more interesting: namely, clothes. This fashion-conscious bulbasaur was a fantastic surprise; Ms. Braviary and Althea were both helplessly disinterested in clothes, so she hadn’t had a single soul to talk to about shopping in months. The pokemon’s comment about not being able to fit brought another giggle from Rosalind. ”I guess! I dunno, though, I think you’d look pretty cute in a beanie and a nice scarf. You could totally rock that look.” And ohmygoodness, has anyone tried piercing a bulbasaur’s ear-ridge-things before? That would look so pretty…

She was still half-focused giving Bulbasaur a mental makeover as Buneary piped up again, but his compliment (and accompanying smirk) was enough to make her blush. Why couldn’t human guys be this cute? How so much charm could be squished into one tiny bun was beyond her. He definitely wasn’t going to have any issues sowing those carrots of his—

Oh Arceus, if he went out seducing folks, who would end up with the eggs? Rosalind was not ready to be a surrogate mom.

But that was something to worry about much later. In the meantime, she was going to have fun flirting with the guy. Putting a hand to her collar in mock pain, she answered with a shocked, ”You’d break my heart like that? I’ll die of jealousy!” This was definitely way more than she’d flirt with any other guy—at least, anymore. But he obviously didn’t mean any harm, and was laying it on thick himself, so she was happy to return in kind. To be honest, it felt kind of great. Again, living and working with two straight-laced older gals, she hadn’t had much chance to flirt around the past couple years.

Of course, she hadn’t woken up this morning expecting to wink suggestively at a buneary. But she wasn’t complaining. (Poor Kulech would be scandalized, though.)

Rosalind collected herself a little bit when Bulbasaur started talking, hearing a more earnest edge in her tone. But the pokemon shouldn’t have worried too much about oversharing—she was a little slow on the uptake, not quite piecing together what Bulbasaur was suggesting. But her talk of getting acquainted with herself definitely struck Rosalind in a tender place, and her brows climbed in surprise. When she responded, her smile was encouraging and sincere. ”Yeah girl, I feel you. Relearning who you are is hard work.” Her tone was casual enough, but there was enough weight in it to suggest that she spoke from empathy more than sympathy.

She was about to make some joke about breeders being nasty when, probably for the better, she was interrupted by Tate introducing a third pokemon. At the name “Rockruff,” she glanced over in open confusion. ”A what?” She had zero clue what a “Rockruff” was, and her confusion shifted to delighted surprise as the strange pokemon was released. She couldn’t remember ever seeing a dog like that! He was about the size of a poochyena, but with a lithe build and short brown fur. And were those rocks on his collar? Was he a rock type? (She supposed that would explain the name.) But who ever heard of a rock-type pooch?

These Alolan species were really something else.

Her glee at meeting a new species would be perfectly evident on her face, and her hands were clasped together in excitement under her chin. When the dog laughed about calling himself “exotic,” she joined him, and watched with unabashed curiosity as he trotted closer. She would have immediately peppered him with questions, but he beat her to the punch, rambling on about something he called “etymology.” (She was sure she should know what that meant, but it had to be something to do with names.) Snickering at his roast of parents, she confirmed her name with a nod, and found herself sincerely fascinated in his explanation of what “Rosalind” meant. Wow, this dog was a total nerd; but he made his nerdy stuff sound cool. Of course, that mostly had to do with just how enthusiastic the guy was about it. He was literally rolling on the floor laughing about name meanings. She couldn’t help but giggle, and had to firmly resist the urge to rub his belly. So fuzzy! But it would probably be rude to scratch a stranger’s stomach, yeah?

She wanted to so bad, though.

Still chuckling, she spoke up. ”I want it known that I’m formally changing my name to ‘Tender Horse.’ Has a nice ring to it, don'tcha think?” she asked with a sweep of her hair and a playful look towards Buneary. But as soon as Rockruff settled down, she was quick to (proverbially) pounce on him, her inquisitiveness still in full force. ”Okay, wow, I’ve never seen someone like you before! You must be a rock-type, yeah? Do you evolve? I think most dog pokemon have multiple stages, right?” There were at least several thousand questions she wanted to ask, and the glint in her eyes probably made that obvious. Still, she forced herself to pull back, remembering that they weren’t the only two people in the room. Rocking back on her heels, she cut herself off with an apologetic cough. ”But, uh, I probably shouldn’t be interviewing you about that right now, huh?”

She looked to Buneary and Bulbasaur again, including them back in the conversation. ”I was just asking these two what they want to do when they leave the lab. But anyway, how’d you guys end up in this program, if that’s not a super personal question?” She would assume that most pokemon came here from breeders, but maybe that wasn’t universal. Heck, these guys might have more life experience than she did. But then again, most watermelons had more life experience than she did, so that wasn’t a high bar.

Okay, this wasn’t so bad. Rosalind was actually having a really good time chatting with these three. And even if the only thing she accomplished today was making Bulbasaur that happy, she’d call it a win. Except…wow, she was going to have to choose between them. Whatever she decided, she was going to disappoint two of them. Oh no, she didn’t want to make anyone cry over this. Bulbasaur was so sweet, and Buneary was so fun, and Rockruff…

Rockruff was getting scoffed at by Buneary. She eyed the two with amusement, noting the little battle of machismo that seemed to be going on. Maybe she wasn’t helping, playing along with the bunny—but what was she supposed to do, shut the guy down? Yeah, not gonna happen. Especially with Buneary cranking the charm up to eleven, playing with his ear and firing off another effortless pickup line. Rosalind didn’t need to pretend to be charmed; she was blushing whether she wanted to or not.

And then, of course, snickering as Rockruff torpedoed his advances, claiming that women didn’t enjoy being flirted with so much. ”I like it…” she murmured with a smile, but not loudly enough to interrupt the dog as he plowed on. His ranting about the patriarchy brought a glint to her eyes. When he paused for breath, she spoke up with an emphatic ”I feel you!” In fact, she said it with a bit more force than she’d meant to—but heck man, this dog was right on her level. She wanted to chat with the guy about that later.

Which she could do, if she brought him with her. For the first time, the reality really hit her that one of these three was going to be her partner, hopefully for a very long time.

But it was going to mess her up if she thought about that too hard. Best not to. Meanwhile, Rockruff way saying something that was probably very interesting. She tuned in just in time to hear how his species evolves, which she was totally going to ask Althea about later, because it sounded cool. Or she could just ask Rockruff, because apparently she was right. He really was a total nerd. And proud of it, too! She wasn’t used to people boasting about that. It was hard not to snicker, actually, because he was taking himself so seriously. A pokemon calling himself an intellectu—

—but there was no reason why a pokemon couldn’t be an intellectual. Absolutely none. Obviously. If she hadn’t had four pairs of eyes on her, she would have literally kicked herself for thinking otherwise for a second. Rockruff sounded way smarter than she could ever dream of being. After all, only one of them had failed their Algebra I class, and it wasn’t the guy with paws. Heck, he probably knew more about counseling from his research than she did from working with Althea for three years…which could be very, very helpful.

Rosalind watched him thoughtfully as he talked. But besides chuckling at his gripe about the lab’s library, Rosalind didn’t have much of a chance to respond to Rockruff’s story, because Buneary jumped right in when he was done. And despite how casually he told it, she couldn’t help but cringe at his wording. “Got shut down” implied a level of badness she was not happy associating with someone so nice. She shot him a sympathetic look as he wrapped up, before turning her attention to Bulbasaur. Compared to the other two, she kept her answer short. Which wouldn’t have seemed the least bit suspicious to her, except that she’d been equally evasive with Tate earlier, so she knew it could be a cover for something not-good. Not that she was going to grill the girl or anything, of course. She settled for giving the lizard a smile and a grateful nod.

”Thanks guys! For sharing, I mean,” she said after a pause, glancing between the three. ”I should probably return the favor, yeah?” Her grin was bright, but she was back to fiddling with her bracelets—a nervous tick. ”So…like, I’m kind of doing all this to get experience as a pokemon counselor. Y’know, find people who’ve had a bad time in life and try to help. Or even take them in, if that’s what they need.” As nervous as she was, there was a decisive note in her tone. ”Um…so you’re not signing up for the normal trainer experience if you come with me, you know? Like, we’ll be working with people who are in pain. People who have issues. And it’s totally cool if you don’t want that.” This she said with a reassuring glance in Buneary’s direction; she wasn’t sure the crowd he was looking for would appreciate his flirting. (As much as she would love to have him around.)

Then she met Rockruff’s eyes, questioning. ”Any of you three interested in that sort of gig?” It was aimed at the group, but she couldn’t help but single out the dog. He just seemed so…brilliant. Brilliant in a way she wasn’t. Brilliant in a way she needed.

Oh goodness, Bulbasaur and Buneary were so cute together. She almost squee'd when Bulba patted her friend on the head, but she settled for beaming sappily at the pair. She remembered what it was like to be that comfortable with somebody. It felt good. Good in a way that most anything else couldn’t touch.

But all warm fuzzies vanished immediately when Bulbasaur started sniffling. Oh…oh no, was she going to cry? She was totally going to cry. Nononono, she wasn’t ready for this. Her own eyes started misting up a little and she took a reflexive step back. ”I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize…” As Buneary stepped in to comfort her, she noticed that the bunny was crying, too.

Wow Rosalind, great first day on the job, making two pokemon cry. Althea would say that crying was therapeutic. In fact, she was quite insistent on that point. But she still felt awful, having drudged up this stuff. Hugging an arm around her waist, she was still frantically trying to think up something to say that would make things better when Buneary addressed her—and that was too much for her. Just the fact that he believed in what she was doing was overwhelming, and she felt something hot on her cheek. Dashing hastily at the tear, she cleared her throat. ”Thanks bae. That means a lot. And maybe I can visit sometime…?”

With all the emotions pooling up in the room, she’d almost forgotten for a second that she’d really been aiming the question at Rockruff. As the dog finally spoke up, Rosalind took a few measured breaths, trying to compose herself. (Another thing Althea had taught her.) And yeah, what he was saying was way over her head. (There were many approaches to therapy? She only had a beginner’s understanding of one, so she wasn’t off to a fantastic start, apparently.) But she nodded, pretending to understand what he was talking about. ”Sure, yeah. I’d really like that.” She paused, and then continued with a watery snicker, ”So, were you hatched knowing everything, or are books really that amazing?” She, uh, wouldn’t really know from personal experience. She probably hadn’t cracked a book since graduation. Althea had sent her along with a reading list for during her travels, but she was…procrastinating. Just a bit.

Meanwhile, Tate had jumped in to help clean up the mess she’d made, dabbing at Bulbasaur’s tears with a tissue, while Buneary watched on. Those two obviously cared a lot about the grass-type. It was sweet to watch, even if she still felt awful for causing the scene in the first place. Sending Rockruff a ”give me a moment” sort of look, she stepped a little closer to the hiccuping Bulbasaur and got down on her knees. ”Hey girl. I’m super sorry for bringing up bad stuff.” She couldn’t quite bring herself to make eye contact, because the tears were back in her own eyes, and she really didn’t like crying in front of people. ”And I’m sorry you have to deal with that stuff in the first place, whatever you’ve been going through.” Chewing her lip, she glanced at Tate and Buneary, and couldn’t help but smile. ”It looks like you’re really loved here. And…” She hesitated again. Why did this have to hurt so much? ”And it’s true that I want to be a counselor, but right now I have absolutely no clue what I’m doing,” she admitted with a quiet, self-depreciating laugh. ”So I think maybe these folks here can help you more than I can?” She forced herself to meet the lizard’s eyes with a sniffle. ”If that’s okay. I really hope you find what you’re looking for.”

With that, she looked back to Tate, and then over to Rockruff. ”Um, I think Rockruff would be great to work with. I mean, if you want to?” As she spoke, she wiped her face again. She should have used the water-proof mascara today.