[Pokémon X&Y] Lost Kitten in the Street

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Title: Lost Kitten in the Street
Fandom: Pokémon X&Y
Pairing: Professor Augustine Sycamore/Lysandre
Rating: G
Summary: "Sorry about the mess. We've, huh. Been dealing with an unexpected visitor."
Notes: Written for Writer's Month, for the prompt: wild. Title from Lost Kitten by Metric.
AO3 Link: Here.

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The professor's office was in complete and utter chaos when the elevator doors opened to let Lysandre in. There were papers everywhere, even worse than usual, and someone – or something – had scattered a bunch of metal parts all over the floor. None of the usual scientists who worked alongside him were anywhere in sight.

Before Lysandre could clear his throat and call out for Augustine, his voice rang out from the other side of the partition, "Come on. Come on out, baby boy, I'm not going to hurt you."

As soon as he'd walked past the corner, Lysandre was greeted by the sight of Augustine Sycamore crouching halfway under his desk, and even more papers thrown around on the ground. Some of the framed pictures and sketches on the walls had fallen off, though they seemed mostly intact.

"Professor?" Lysandre said.

There was a dull bang and Augustine let out a pained groan. Lysandre opened his mouth to apologize for startling him but was immediately interrupted by something rushing out from under the desk at full speed. It was a pokémon, approximately fifty or sixty centimeters tall, yellow and pink. They were covered in an unknown substance. Before Lysandre could take a better look, they disappeared under one of the nearby tables.

"Bordel de putain de sa mère la pute," Augustine mumbled to himself as he stood, rubbing the top of his head. Lysandre shot him a look and he grimaced. "Didn't hear you come in. Sorry about the mess. We've, huh. Been dealing with an unexpected visitor."

For the sake of figuring out what was going on, Lysandre decided to pretend he hadn't heard any foul language. "A rescue?"

"Someone left him in a box on the steps." Augustine sighed, ruffling his hair back off his forehead with his hand. He was sweating, and there was a large stain on the front of his lab coat. "Sina brought it in, but when we opened the box he ran out and, well. You can probably figure out what happened."

Lysandre let his eyes travel around the room again, stopping to look at the mess of fallen machinery and books and papers. He shook his head.

"Give me ten minutes," he said, and left.

The pokémon was still under the table when he came back, rolled into a ball as far back as he could get, one big purple eye glaring at whoever would try to coax him out again. He thought it had to be a mienfoo, and a fairly young one at that. Augustine had ignored him, focusing instead on attempting to clean up some of the wreckage he'd left in his wake.

Lysandre gestured for the professor to not make a sound and kneeled next to the table, the purple eye following his movements warily. He took out a little cardboard box from inside his jacket and opened it to reveal a row of four macarons, then placed it on the ground.

"Oh," Augustine murmured, stopping to crouch beside him, their shoulders brushing. "We've tried food before."

"Not my food," Lysandre said with a tight smile.

The mienfoo stirred, unraveling from his rolled-up state until he was lying flat against the floor, glaring at them. He didn't look hurt, only covered in dust and dirt and perhaps ink, which was a meager relief.

His nose twitched once, twice, then he began to crawl forward a little. Neither of the two men moved or made a sound, waiting to see what he would do next. His little yellow head emerged back into the light, the tip of his snout steadily getting closer to the box. He stopped to blink at Lysandre who smiled at him.

"You must be tired," he said, in the tone he used with his pyroar when he was misbehaving and needed to be cajoled into settling down. "Nobody wants to hurt you."

The mienfoo blinked again, his thick eyebrows moving up and down, and then he rolled onto his back. His yellow belly rose in time with his breathing, and there was definitely something wrong there: he had what looked like a wound near the middle of his chest, like a deep scratch that had stopped bleeding but couldn't quite close. Augustine took a deep breath.

"We want to help," he said. The mienfoo yawned. "This is a place where humans help pokémons. I'm sorry for scaring you."

With a resigned growl, the mienfoo pushed himself up on his feet. He took a tentative step toward the food they'd offered him, and then another, and then once he'd reached the box he sat down next to it and began to eat.

"Good," Lysandre said. The mienfoo chirped in reply, quickly engulfing one macaron and grabbing another. "We'll take care of you."

He felt Augustine slump against him, his hair brushing the side of his face as he pressed their shoulders together.

"I'll call Sina and tell her it's taken care of," he murmured. "I convinced her and the others to let me deal with it but I should have known to call you."

"You're the pokémon professor, not me."

Augustine took him by the shoulders. Lysandre turned to look at him, blinking when he realized how close his face was.

"That's true, but you're demonstrably better equipped to deal with emergencies." Augustine chuckled. He gave his shoulder a quick squeeze and then used him as leverage to stand back up slowly, careful not to frighten the mienfoo further – though he seemed too taken with his treats. "If you could convince him to let us take him to the pokémon center, I'd be much obliged."

Lysandre turned back to look at the pokémon, who was now lapping up crumbs from inside the box. "I'll do my best, Professor."

He felt a hand in his hair, caressing it like one might a pet pokémon who's been very well-behaved, and couldn't prevent the flush suddenly gaining his cheeks.

"I know you will," Augustine said, his pleased smile audible in his voice. Then he let go of him and walked away to call his assistant as if nothing had happened.

The mienfoo was staring at him, his paws pressing down the edge of the box like he somehow could tell what he'd just witnessed. When Lysandre frowned, he let out a little squeak and licked his lips.

"Come on," Lysandre said, electing to pretend nothing had happened as well. "Let's get you taken care of."