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The ZOMBIE turned out to be a fruity drink, sweet and syrupy, not necessarily Girard's favorite, but certainly interesting. The bright orange-gold color combined with the tropical flavor-profile reminded him of a beach resort. Now that would be nice, he thought; Hoenn had been so cold lately. Not even coastal cities like Slateport and Lilycove could escape Winter's touch, it seemed.[break][break]
But here, now, inside the comfortable atmosphere of the Burning Maw and with the familiar weight of BARNABY FINCH's arm draped over his shoulder, Girard was quite warm indeed. He laughed pleasantly, amused by his friend's dramatic declaration.[break][break]
"What's this? Are you tired?" He teased. Barnaby always had his hands in everything, but it seemed even the region's most dedicated journalist had a breaking point. Perhaps his new responsibilities were contributing to his exhaustion. Barnaby had been recently promoted to an admin position within Team Rocket, something Girard had worked behind the scenes to encourage and endorse.[break][break]
Barnaby wasn't the only shadow king.

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Girard Fraser[break]

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What had he been up to?[break][break]
"The usual," Girard answered with a casual shrug. "The buying and selling of goods. I've had my most lucrative year yet. Rumors are circulating, however, that...one of our head scientists is looking for Unown, so I have been keeping an eye out. Rare Pokémon are sometimes traded in exchange for cash loans. It would be advantageous to find myself in possession of one, if not many."[break][break]
He took a sip of his drink. Finding an Unown would be valuable not so much because of any power they might physically possess, but simply because someone important wanted them. That alone made them worth Girard's time.[break][break]
Girard considered his friend. The man surely had twice the responsibilities he used to have; it made sense that he desperately needed a break. Barnaby was crafty, however - always on the hunt for some juicy tidbit or scientific breakthrough to report on.[break][break]
"Truth be told - I am hungry for some adventure." He paused, expression turning thoughtful. "You're a big shot now, surely you've got some special project or personal endeavor you might need my help with?" His smile turned devious, and his amber eyes twinkled. Barnaby could be counted on to spice up Girard's life when it mattered.

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Girard Fraser[break]

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Ah yes, the mountain. Girard remembered the searing heat, the thick haze, and the intensity of the envy that had been dragged out of him like some sort of exorcism. A thrill coursed through him at Barnaby's approval - after all, Girard would not have taken on such a taxing mission for just anyone. He was a business man first and foremost, not one to throw himself into tedious physical labor unless absolutely necessary. He was capable, yes, but he was also careful: with his life, with his time, and with his loyalties most of all.[break][break]
Barnaby was always worth the effort.[break][break]
"Anywhere?" Girard murmured seductively, leaning in so that his lips just barely brushed Barnaby's ear. He'd accepted his friend's rejection last winter with grace; after all, maintaining the other man's respect had mattered more to him at the time than aggressively pursuing his own pleasure in the face of Barnaby's monogamous commitment. But as far as he knew, that commitment had ended.[break][break]
Girard was tired of holding himself back. His experience at Mt. Chimney had made that abundantly clear.[break][break]
"I could show you what's beneath this suit," he continued. "All you need to do is name the time and place."

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Girard Fraser[break]

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It was easy enough to subtly slip a few bills across the bar, nod politely to the bartender, and close their tab. It was easy enough to snake an arm around Barnaby's waist, lean in and murmur a sultry "come with me", then lead him to the exit of the Burning Maw. It was easy enough to find a hotel with a vacancy, just lavish enough to appeal to Barnaby's tastes, and it was certainly easy enough to find himself alone with Barnaby in a classy suite with a window that opened up onto the Rustboro skyline, a bathroom with a jacuzzi in it, and a single king-sized bed.[break][break]
It was one fluid effort: not the fumbling drunken impulsivity of random strangers who'd just met at a bar, but the deliberate passion of two close friends who had been lusting after one another for quite a long time. There was an urgency to the way Girard trapped Barnaby against the wall just inside the entrance of the room, the weight of his taller body pinning Barnaby in place. Girard had waited a long time to be in this position; he intended to savor it.[break][break]
"If you'd like to see what's beneath the suit, perhaps..." He pressed his lips to Barnaby's throat, grinned into soft pale skin. Barnaby smelled of lavender and sandalwood, his usual intoxicating scents. "...you ought to help me remove it."

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Girard Fraser[break]

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How Girard had waited - patiently, so very patiently - to do just that.[break][break]
When a rubber band is pulled taught, there is a certain degree of tension that will cause it to finally snap. Girard had been stretched thin over the years of his friendship with Barnaby; every moment of respectful distance he'd afforded his friend as the other man had pursued relationships that were less flexible than Girard would have preferred, the tension had been building. Girard prided himself on his self-control, carefully curated over years of business deals and smuggling operations.[break][break]
But the moment Barnaby consented, freed from the bonds of exclusivity, Girard's willpower crumbled.[break][break]
Upon the four-point-five-star hotel mattress, Girard worshipped Barnaby like he was the god the two of them were hunting, the great firebird forgotten in favor of the ember-hot skin-contact between the two men, as divine as any rebirth. Barnaby tasted as delicious as Girard had imagined he might, and his body was lithe and malleable beneath Girard's practiced hands. He pressed Barnaby into the sheets, kissed every inch of his skin, grabbed fistfuls of silky golden hair and allowed himself to be both rough and needy, sensual and slow in equal measure.[break][break]
"Well? Does mon bijou wish to further direct me?" He rumbled, the Kalosian twinged with his Galarian accent, decadence mixed with affection. Eyes like sapphires, worth more than any gem that had ever crossed the threshold of his shop. Girard stared into them, his own expression a smoldering amber fire as they moved in natural rhythm together. "I have all night."

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Girard Fraser[break]