Though rough in texture, Tam's hands are surprisingly gentle as they explore the curve of Orion's cheekbone. He shivers under the touch, eyes closing to enjoy the moment.

A yell from HQ's commons makes him jump, muscles freezing up in fight-or-flight, and when his eyes open they're wide with alarm. Tam doesn't pull away immediately, however, and Orion allows himself to savour the last press of lips before the inevitable parting.

Damnit, Arashi.

He doesn't protest, knowing Tam has to go, but he does feel a sinking disappointment all the same. It's soothed slightly when Tam turns back with a question, his lips tugging into a small smile as he nods.

"Absolutely."

It's been a while since Tam Fawley assigned him to light duty after the warehouse incident, and while he's mostly settled into the routine of the role it still sucks to see the others in the squad going out on calls.

Except Calliope Marks.

Trust his partner to share the doghouse with him.

While others are gearing up for their jobs, Orion's cross-legged with a pumpkin in his lap and a pen in his right hand, loosely sketching a design on the orange flesh of the gourd.

"I haven't carved a pumpkin in years." It's exciting, in a way. Halloween is his favourite holiday, even if haunted houses and superstitions reflected poorly on his favoured Ghost-types. "What are you doing with yours?"

"Force of habit."

Orion smirks at Tam, green eyes sparkling with mischief.

He doesn't expect the kiss, not when they're at work and there are other rangers in the building, but neither does he hesitate to return it. Nervous energy flutters in his stomach and though there is no alcohol to soothe his anxiety, it goes ignored in favour of a spreading warmth.

Orion isn't good with words. He flounders over feelings. But gratitude for the kindness Tam insists against is poured into the kiss as Orion rests a hand against the captain's hip.

Anxiety is a hell of a drug. It has an awful habit of filling in any blanks with the worst possible outcome, and so talking to someone as blunt and direct as Tam is incredibly reassuring. He never has to flounder over fear of what the captain's thinking, when they talk, because more likely than not, Tam will tell him if he asks.

Like now.

If he'd been emotional before, now his insides are practically liquefied by the sweet words.

"You're kind," he protests, because Tam might not think he is, but who else would take in the Slateport squad so readily? "At least, you're kind to us." That's what matters.

He can't be offended when Tam calls him a dumbass — he need only recall his second encounter with Chu-e Choi for that. He might've made a joke if not for what Tam says next.

"I probably shouldn’t be telling you that at work.”

Cheeks flushed, Orion ducks his head under the praise. "I won't tell," is whispered between them like a secret. "You're pretty hot, too," with a nervous laugh, "even when you're telling yourself you care a lot less than I think you do."

He's seen the way Tam looks after the squad. He'd seen it most of all at the warehouse.

"What is that?"

Obscured by storm clouds, it's impossible to tell. An impression of broad wings, a flash of white, and the silhouette at the storm's eye plunges into the water below. Their boat rocks with the force of the resulting wave, and Orion grips the railing for balance.

"Don't suppose any of yours can affect the weather?"

He can make it worse, with Tentacruel, but that's hardly the goal.

"Look, there! I think I see someone in the water!" But where was the boat? "Libertas! Tailwind!"

A fierce breeze stirs beneath the Noivern's scarred wings, and after a moment the black bat swoops down to snag the panicked officer in his claws. When the half-drowned woman is deposited onto the deck of their ship, Altair blasts a FLAMETHROWER high overhead for warmth.

"Thank you." She's shivering, eyes wide. "The boat got dragged down by its WHIRLPOOL. My partner..."

"We'll do everything we can." Orion's anxiety has vanished beneath hard determination. "Celes, you're going to take over. I won't risk swimming in a storm like this." He gestures with his titanium arm in explanation. He's not yet confident enough in its use. "My Pokémon are at your disposal if you need their help."

mission: a deadly job
valor: search and rescue

He doesn't need to thank Tam; he wants to. He wants the captain to know how much his words are appreciated even if it makes the back of Orion's neck burn and his stomach clench with anxiety to be so raw and honest.

His stomach flutters for an entirely different reason when Tam steps closer. Personal space is important to him but this is a different kind of nerves. Tam catches his eye and Orion holds his gaze against his own instinct.

"I-If you want to, sure."

Good things, he hopes?

"Hey!" Orion takes it as teasing, regardless of Tam's intent, but he sounds more amused than offended. "I'm missing an arm, not a leg. I can keep up fine."

It's easier to laugh about his arm, now that he has the prosthetic. Now that he has hope of returning to a certain degree of normalcy, even if he did get frustrated when his nerves didn't respond right or his dexterity wasn't as fine as it used to be.

"It's not everything you are."

The sincerity of the words, especially in response to what Orion had phrased as a joke, catches him off guard.

Why does he suddenly feel like he's going to cry?

His throat closes around a response, and he has to swallow and compose himself before letting out a breathy laugh. "I, ah, I think I really needed to hear that." In spite of his attempts to play it cool, emotion tightens his tone. It was so easy to drown in his own low self-esteem, especially following a run of bad luck and bad decisions such as the one he'd made at the warehouse. To hear such encouragement from Tam, who so often had to deal with the fallout of his actions, was more than he'd ever expected. "Thanks."

His shoulders bunch, the display of emotion making him feel self-conscious and awkward.

Enthusiastic, for someone like Orion, simply translated to a willingness to engage socially with someone at all. He ordinarily avoids even friendly outings unless at the encouragement of others. But @nikita had suggested lunch at the Kalosian bistro they'd talked of at his ranch and seeing as he'd been on shift with Caleb Harcourt at the time, he'd thought it might be a good idea to introduce his friends.

No matter how suspicious it might look, Orion's not one to play matchmaker: he can't even keep his own life straight, let alone think about meddling in the lives of those close to him.

He's a little nervous, but that's to be expected when they're in a public setting. Green eyes flit over quaint café tables until they settle on the familiar figure of @nikita, and Orion smiles. That smile falters at Caleb's question.

He sounds... alarmed?

"Yeah, why?" Catching Nikita's eye, he offers a brief wave before glancing at Caleb. "Wait. Do you know each other?"

He starts approaching the table, because it would be awkward not to. Sorry, Caleb and Nikita.

"Serious?" He tries not to be hopeful. "I do need to work on my cardio."

Plus, it would be nice to spend more time with Tam. He likes Tam; the captain's presence is enduring and comfortable, and he never seems too fussed about Orion's awkwardness.

"There's some really good trails near the ranch. I go out jogging there sometimes." The serene countryside of Verdanturf was beautiful in its own right.

Tam might not look at Orion, but Orion steals a quick glance at him when an off-hand comment is made. He can't help but smile, a certain warmth filling his chest and colouring his cheeks. It's pleasant for how unexpected it is.

"Even though I'm a menace?" He's joking, hiding his smile by ducking his head as he tucks a properly organized drawer back into place.

Though in the past they've had their differences, Orion finds himself sympathizing with Raziel Beckett as another ranger takes a heated strike below the belt. Should the Silph ranger catch his eye, Orion would offer a grimace of sympathy. He would, perhaps, have done more than that, but it's at this point that a pie goes sailing toward the offending party's backside.

Calliope Marks threw it. Of course.

That would have been funny, something to laugh about later, but he finds it considerably less entertaining when she throws one at him. Though he tries to reflexively get out of the way, he still gets clipped by the dessert.

It smells like pumpkin, topped with whipped cream that smears down the arm of his uniform.

"Calli, what the fuck?"

Worried about a possible escalation, he takes shelter below the table. Elinor Anderson's voice thunders out across the room and he jumps, stars bursting in his vision when he smacks his head against the underside of his refuge.

At least I'm not the problem, for once.

Trusting (read: praying) that it's safe, he abandons shelter to resume his seat next to Tam Fawley. He feels sympathy for the captain, lighting nudging his arm in a silent expression of such and a tight-lipped, apologetic smile. Though he wants nothing more than to get out of here, he's not about to abandon Tam to the wolves.

"Ugh. If I never see another beach it'll be too soon." He's joking, the stress of Splashfest cleanup in both of their recent memory. Never again. "The beach is OK. Always did prefer the forests, though."

Beaches were crowded and open, so many eyes to scrutinize your every move. Forests were dense and quiet, a perfect place to be alone.

Probably not says more than Tam may realise. Him too, then. Orion knew all too well the desire to distance oneself from family. Since they were kids, though. Damn. Whatever happened between Tam and his family is the other man's business, though, his story to tell if some day he needs to get it off his chest. For now, Orion is simply content with the small answer.

"I wish my family were in another region. Every time I have to go to Lilycove I'm worried I'll run into one of them." They never spoke, when he did, but the withering glances were enough. "It's nice working out of Slateport instead."

Not just because of avoiding his family, either.

While he might not accept the apology with words, Tam's small smile is soothing enough. He's not mad, then.

"Hoenn must've been a hell of a shock." It wouldn't be the first time an immigrant to the region expressed discontent with its smothering heat. It wasn't like that in the other regions from what he understood, except maybe Alola. "I grew up in Lilycove, so it was mostly forests and the beach. Met Altair on Route 120, actually."

The Absol, who had curled up in a corner of the file room to watch them work, chuffs softly at the sound of his name.

Family is too harsh a topic for Orion to broach it directly, but he does ask, "Do you plan to visit, if the barrier ever goes down?" Many of the other rangers had family in other regions, and the invisible force trapping them in Hoenn was as much a source of stress as the incoming meteoroid.