Once again into the wood - Petalburg Woods, in fact. A place BARNABY FINCH had become well-acquainted with since the beginning of the Spring season. A host of reasons had inspired his interest, one of which being a certain ROCKET apothecary and civilian florist.

Speaking of civilian fronts, Barnaby found himself on yet another journalistic adventure, this time on assignment for a casual article meant to detail the honey tree phenomena. Something light and Spring-centric.

He found the job dreadfully boring, the only reprieve from the dull walk being the company of his beautiful Bellona... until the sound of a familiar voice, carried on the wind, caught his attention.

"Has Cinderella lost her slipper?" Barnaby's sly, honey-coated words cut into the pitiful scene before him: Elisabeth Fiorelli, inconvenienced by the very thing he'd come here to report on. Actually, her situation might be entertaining enough to include in the article, he thought idly. Hmm.

"Good afternoon, Lady Fiorelli." He bowed slightly for dramatic effect, smiling all the while. Bellona, in turn, wagged her spade-shaped tail.

Elisabeth Fiorelli
mission: HONEY TRAP

☉

Ah, how easily they fell into this scathing tête-à-tête. Sometimes Barnaby wondered why he picked at her so mercilessly. It was his way with most people, of course, but not quite to this degree. There was just something about the fire in her eyes that stoked a deviant passion in his.

"Actually, running into you has been the highlight of my morning." And he wouldn't dare cease that pleasure now, even as she so coolly insinuated ungentlemanly-like things of him.

"Mock? Never." A lie. "I apologize. You must understand the etiquette surrounding nobility has been staunchly engrained in me since childhood. It's a hard thing to shake." A half-truth.

"Perhaps it was all those gaudy balls and galas I was expected to attend..." At this admission Barnaby's cobalt eyes drifted upwards, memories of such events resurfacing to the forefront of his mind after many years of pushing them away.

Bellona, meanwhile, had taken notice of the SUNKERN in Elisa's arms. Her muscles tensed, her tail lowered, and her crimson gaze hyper-focused on the oblivious seed.

Elisabeth Fiorelli
mission: HONEY TRAP

☉

“Ms. Fiorelli. I’d never imagined such hateful words could leave such chaste lips.” Or the approximation of chastity she put on for the public, anyway. He knew better, of course. Once the mock-shock subsided, he continued in their conversation.

“Not altogether astonishing, actually. I was much younger then, before I’d begun my illustrious career.” Elisa had been brimming with sarcasm when giving the compliment, but Barnaby took it as an indisputable fact. “Family obligation dictated I attend. I’m sure that is common ground we can agree on.”

While she huffed and rolled her eyes, Barnaby took every cutting remark in stride, his cheeky smile a permanent fixture on that gorgeous face of his. To his utter amusement, Elisa never seemed able to find a chink in his armor. Would she ever?

“Unfortunately, it is. A dismal affair, hm? Luckily I’ve run into something that could make the piece somewhat interesting.” With that, he lifted his ROTOM phone and took a few snapshots of Elisabeth Fiorelli’s current predicament.

Elisabeth Fiorelli
mission: HONEY TRAP

☉

“Yes, yes, I know well your disgust for my profession. You made that abundantly clear during our first meeting. And when I was simply showing genuine curiosity, borne from an interest to get to know you! Your words wound me so.” The faux-pained look on Barnaby’s face complemented the sarcasm dripping from his every word. He even clutched at his heart, as if fighting off a phantom ache. Soon enough, though, pain subsided into a wicked smile.

"At any rate, Mr. Finch, you needn't worry in that regard. You are hardly my type."

“Oh? That’s quite the shame, as you are most certainly mine, Ms. Fiorelli.” Unbeknownst to Elisabeth, a bright memory of a hidden valley, a quaint picnic, a babbling stream, and their lips interlocked - instigated by the woman herself - blossomed in Barnaby’s mind.

He didn’t linger here, toeing this line that he knew he shouldn’t.

“Yes, perhaps our circles did not cross…” Although now that she mentioned it, faint whispers of a young, dancing girl flitted through his mind. Hmm…

Barnaby wasn’t given long to ponder this recollection, however, as Elisa’s tone grew deathly severe. “Lacking a sense of humor, I see. Do not fret — Rotom will delete the photos momentarily.” On cue, a decisive ping! rang from the phone.

“See? Confirm at your leisure.” He handed her the device.

Elisabeth Fiorelli
mission: HONEY TRAP

☉

“Perhaps you shouldn’t judge one person based on the reputation of an entire profession.” Almost imperceivable, his brow creased, his mouth tightened, “Two of us can tout the preconceived opinion argument.” A slightly more cutting observation, less sarcastic than the ones previous.

But this, too, passed as easily as the Spring breeze that tousled strands of their blonde hair. Barnaby listened, and he nodded, and he took in her statements on his sense of attraction with a puckish smirk. “Call me a masochist if you wish. There’s just something about you that keeps me wanting more.”

He paused, considering his next words. “...tell me now that I am an incomprehensible boor and that you’d like me to stop. I’ll be the epitome of professionalism going forward if that is what you’d prefer. But if not...” Barnaby left the implication hanging. Would Elisabeth Fiorelli really reject the blistering rapport they had established?

In the wake of her response, regardless of what it was, Barnaby would release another of his Pokémon. Not the RALTS that she would associate with Bee, but a KIRLIA that she had not yet seen in his company.

With a nod he gestured to the honey-encased shoe; it didn’t take much brain power for the Pokémon to understand her master’s intentions. A magenta glow overtook her gaze as she concentrated her psychic energy on the piece of apparel. Slow at first, as if something were tugging at the slipper, it was steadily released from its viscous prison. But this was not the end of the display. A flashing of her eyes signaled another wave of power, this time used to separate any traces of honey from the shoe, leaving it as clean as can be expected in a situation like this. It would then be floated toward and laid delicately at her feet.

Elisabeth Fiorelli
mission: HONEY TRAP

☉

A sadist she was, that much was certain.

But was she a good one? Elisabeth Fiorelli's words certainly held a sharp edge to them as she began her little tirade.

It wasn't so bad at first... and then came the plunge of the knife, deep, deep into that inflated ego of his. How dare she mock his livelihood, his career that he'd slaved over for so many-

Just kidding.

He laughed. Bright, loud, and emanating from deep within his chest. It was neither mocking nor ill-humored; Barnaby genuinely found Elisa's posturing to be endearingly quaint.

"An actress you are not, Ms. Fiorelli. I thank you for the laugh, though. It's been quite some time since I've laughed that hard." He wiped a small tear from his eye. "Aaaahh, even so, I do much admire your wit."

A rumbling at his side pulled Barnaby's attention downward, where Bellona sat transfixed on the small SUNKERN in Elisa's lap. She would never harm the thing without explicit instruction, but perhaps it was time to move on all the same. He still had work to do, after all.

“I’ll take my leave, then. I believe I’ve troubled you enough for one afternoon.” The smile he left her with was soft and unbothered by their searing banter. If anything, he was in a better mood now than when he had arrived.

“Good day, Ms. Fiorelli.”

Elisabeth Fiorelli
mission: HONEY TRAP

☉