### Ronnie Gets A Flea Bath

With a noise not entirely unlike a fart, but inside out, Arlo popped through a time portal into an apartment that was notably larger and notably less weed / piss / death scented than the one in which he had last seen Ronnie. Ronnie was doing about the same thing he had been the last time Arlo saw him -- lying splayed out shirtless on the couch with an Xbox controller in his lap, swearing at an unseen adversary on the screen. Arlo hoped that he wasn't on voice chat. Presumably Ronnie probably was in an PVE campaign, or at least didn't care if he lost, given that as soon as he noticed Arlo's entrance, he bounded up off the couch and forward to hug him. Arlo's face flushed feeling Ronnie's chest and the ruff of fur in the top center thereof push into his own, with their contours palpable even through a hoodie.

"Hey! Great seeing you, dude! Uh...why are you here? I mean, obviously, you want to see me because I'm your super cute dogboyfriend, but like, why are you visiting me here, in the past? There's no show or anything this weekend. At least not from me. There's always a show going on somewhere. Uh, that's not really on task, but, uh, yeah? I'm used to you inviting me to the future. Not objecting. Just not your usual shit, you know?"

"I figured this was the easiest option since Spark doesn't want you in the house."

Ronnie's hair / fur poofed out on every part of his body, and his shoulders immediately tensed. Arlo could swear that his fingernails got longer and sharper. He wasn't quite sure if Ronnie in mostly human form exactly had hackles, but the intent was clear, especially coupled with the growling under his breath.

"What. The fuck. Do you mean, Spark doesn't want me in the house?!"

"Woah there, boy. Calm down. It's not --"

"This is one of those 'it's not you, it's me' things, isn't it?!"

Ronnie reflexively lunged forward and across his chest with one hand (yeah, his nails were definitely sharper than usual, and it seemed to have a covering of fur and paw pads that hadn't been there before) as though to take a swipe at Arlo, then realized what he'd done and grabbed his hand at the end of its arc, staring at it in horror before slapping it with the other one and wincing in response.

Arlo approached closer and put a hand on Ronnie's shoulder.

"Breathe. Look at me."

Reluctantly, the semi-transformed werewolf's eyes stopped darting around looking for an escape route and settled on Arlo's.

"I promise it isn't anything personal. If it was, I would have told you before and ideally, had Spark tell you himself."

"...I guess I believe you. So, if it isn't that Spark doesn't want me around because he thinks I'm a bad influence or some shit, what is it? Is he getting the place fumigated?"

"That isn't too far off, actually. There's been an outbreak of fleas in the house, and Spark thinks you might have been the vector. He doesn't want you in the house until he's gotten all the Pokemon treated and is sure that it hasn't spread to Instinct HQ."

Ronnie paused and took a step back, abruptly deflating. Pretty much literally, given his hair returning to flat position and the covering on his hands and forearms receding.

"Hmm. I have been itchy lately...wait, would the Pokemon even get fleas? Wouldn't Spark's cat thing set them on fire or something since it's full of electricity? And yours all have, like, scales and metal plating and shit."

"Pokemon don't usually get normal parasites, but we don't know exactly what you are, so out of an abundance of caution, Spark wants to make sure everybody's clean, including you, before you come back."

"Aren't there different fleas for humans and dogs? Wouldn't they jump off when I transformed?"

Arlo made a sweeping gesture across Ronnie's body, emphasizing the ears twitching at the top of his head and the patch of fur on his chest.

"You've still got fur even when you're in human form. Fleas can probably stay on the parts of you that stay covered when you turn back, and that's if they aren't a kind that also would live on humans anyway."

"Yeah, but I take showers. Dogs don't."

"Are you using human soap and shampoo?"

"Yeah. I don't like how dog shampoo smells."

"Most shampoos and soaps you can get at the store designed for humans don't specifically kill or repel fleas, since people usually don't get them. Plus, your fur's thick enough that they can probably burrow down into it so they don't drown, or at least enough don't to maintain a breeding population. Unless you're getting down to the roots everywhere you have hair, you're probably not getting all of them when you shower."

"Hmm. Well, I guess I should do something about that before my next show out of town. The guys would probably appreciate if I didn't give them fleas on the bus. So, what, do I need one of those special baths?"

"Yes. Do you have a bathtub now? I know your last apartment didn't."

"Uh, yeah, actually. I haven't been able to find a drain plug the right size, though, and it didn't come with one, so I've just been blocking it with a wadded up towel."

"That should work. If you were a normal sized dog, I could do this in a laundry bucket, but, well, you wouldn't fit. Either of you."

"Does the other me also have fleas?"

"...it sure wouldn't surprise me, but I mean wolf and human you. I'll try to get as much as I can with you in human form since I know you can't turn back until the morning, but since we don't know where they're hiding and coming from or how exactly they interact with the shapeshifting, we should probably do a full cleanse on both forms to be safe....wait, this place does allow pets, right?"

"Yes. That's something I specifically looked for, because, well. And, wait, why are you talking about what YOU need to do, if you're giving me a bath, and part of it's in human form? I can bathe myself."

"Ronnie, have you ever tried to dye your own hair? It's really hard to get down to the roots by yourself, and with a flea dip, we're dealing with every part of your body that has hair. Including places like your armpits and your tail that you can't really reach. Because of where fleas live, we need to go down to skin everywhere that has fur and you can't do that effectively by yourself."

"I guess if I have to have someone do that, I'd rather it be you. Would be hard to explain to either a spa or a vet. But, well, I'd be...."

"You have used me as a prop for a striptease, and you're naked every time you transform back from wolf form and are usually in bed with me when that happens. Your point? Besides, you've got fur and there will be bubbles and stuff. Not like I can see anything. Think of it like a massage. I got some scented candles and bath bombs and stuff to try to make it as pleasant and romantical as possible. At least while you're sapient and can understand why I'm doing this. Wolf you, I'll probably have to hold down."

"So, if you're going to try to make it all romantic and shit, are you gonna be...in there...with me? With you pressing up against me and everything glistening with water and bubbles and you rubbing shit into my skin and..." Ronnie caught himself blushing and held a hand up to his face. However, said wasn't very effective because he couldn't cover his tail wagging. "That actually does sound pretty nice. Maybe it'll be fun if I ignore the parasite part."

"That's the spirit! I'll start drawing the bath and you can get, you know, prepared. I brought a waterproof speaker with a headphone cable if there's anything you want to listen to. Probably wouldn't be a good idea to try to watch anything on your laptop, and my phone can't do much without WiFi, but you can at least get audio. Was really hard to find a speaker that worked in the bath and also had a wired cable, by the way. Bluetooth is backward compatible, but I couldn't remember if any of your devices had it."

"Fuck, I love it when you talk tech."

"I know, honey. Now go get undressed unless you want me to do it for you."

\*\*\*

Arlo found it rather amusing that despite what they were about to do and the conditions in which they'd be in contact with each other, when Ronnie returned from getting undressed it was wrapped in a bathrobe.

"Dude. You do know that... that being said, if you're really uncomfortable with it, I can not --"

"No, I want to do the thing you suggested, you know, with the you getting in there with me and rubbing it into my skin and it being cute and stuff. That sounds...nice, and you're right that I probably can't get a good coverage on everything myself. It's just that...I dunno, force of habit, I guess? I'm used to living with a bunch of other guys who didn't especially want to see each other naked."

"I'm also not used to cis guys covering their chests with towels. Hmm. So, are we --"

"How about we both agree not to talk? It's hotter if you don't."

Ronnie rather curtly and abruptly dropped his towel and entered the tub, beckoning Arlo to come with him. Arlo did as he was instructed and Ronnie scooted forward so that he could reach. Arlo squeezed out a small lump of flea shampoo into his hand and started rubbing it into Ronnie's hair. At first contact, Ronnie reflexively shook, splattering shampoo and water over Arlo and the walls, but he settled down once that reflex was settled. Arlo carefully ran his hands over each individual strand, getting them covered with the flea-controlling shampoo down to the root, and considering how even when damp, Ronnie's hair (fur?) was still extremely soft and noticeably fluffy; he could swear that rather than the typical human shape, each individual strand was fluffed out in itself, although he couldn't prove anything without a microscope. With his fingers fully immersed in Ronnie's hair, Ronnie making the vibrating noise he refused to admit was purring, and Arlo pressed up against Ronnie's back to reach everything, feeling the vibrating and every contour of the other man's back against his skin, he agreed that yeah, it was hotter if they didn't talk. He closed his eyes and continued to work, alternating between rubbing the flea shampoo in, letting it sit and working on skin soap while he waited, and rinsing off each section before moving to another patch of fur.

Honestly, the degree of coverage Ronnie had even in nominally human form was impressive -- far beyond the solely ears and tail he'd started with, a large tuft of fur sat in the center of his chest (perfect cuddling height for Arlo's purposes, but that wasn't important right now), despite his best efforts at shaving his limbs his leg and arm hair were pretty thick and also purple, and he had yet another reason to be mostly fine with nudity: the extra length and fluff in his pubic area had produced a tuft that completely covered his crotch, preventing anything from view even if it wasn't underwater and covered in bubbles. Arlo briefly contemplated whether the contents within that tuft were closer to canine and human anatomy. Finally, the tail had been enhanced with a trail of fur leading most of the way down Ronnie's back which spread out at the bottom. Arlo wasn't convinced that he wasn't more wolf than man at this point, and also found it mildly surprising how much he was into it. After all, Spark wasn't especially hairy, and that had never been part of his particular gender goal, but something about seeing it on Ronnie was deeply satisfying both as a trans guy and as a guy interested in other guys.

Although, seeing as Arlo found everything Ronnie was and did intrinsically interesting and rewarding...

While he was aware that Ronnie had valid reasons to keep his arms and legs tightly shaved, what with his penchant for tattoo sleeves and super-tight pants, Arlo kinda wanted to see now what he'd look like with maximal fluff. Maybe after he turned back from wolf form? Would shaving persist when he shifted back?

On that subject, after about an hour (hour and a half? Arlo wasn't keeping track of time, and was intentionally going slow as much for his own enjoyment as for either of their sensory comfort) of rubbing gels into hair / fur / skin, purring, giggling, and the odd weird little squeak or bark coming from Ronnie, everything that could conceivably be accessed with Ronnie in human form had been accounted for, so it was time for the less enjoyable part to begin. Hopefully Ronnie was one of the kinds of dog that didn't mind water, but somehow Arlo doubted he'd be that lucky.

\*\*\*

Ronnie stepped out of the tub in order to shift. While both of his forms had about the same body mass and both would fit, and the process had become faster as he got used to it, there was no way to rapidly convert someone from a biped to quadruped body plan and plantigrade to digitigrade feet without some very uncomfortable looking changes in position. As Ronnie got more experienced, the process was faster and there was more Pokemon evolution or form change-esque light obscuring the gory details, but the cracking of bones and contorting of human features into positions they couldn't naturally assume remained. Arlo couldn't help but look away.

Once the transformation was complete, the newly re-minted black and purple wolf-dog looked at Arlo, then at the tub...and immediately grabbed the shampoo bottle out of Arlo's hand and bolted with it in his mouth. Arlo, still naked, ran after the creature before remembering that he was a pursuit predator. If he waited long enough, Ronnie would get his zoomies out and could be carried with little resistance. And, well, he was big enough to be difficult to carry with resistance. Arlo did move into the living room area of the apartment so he could keep a better eye on where Wolf Ronnie was going and make sure he didn't hurt himself. The doors were locked, so he probably couldn't escape.

After about 15 minutes of running in circles while Arlo read a science news column on his phone, Ronnie stood at his feet, dropped the shampoo bottle onto them, and barked. Arlo couldn't stop himself from reaching down to scratch him behind the ears.

"You're lucky you're so cute... so, ready for your bath?"

Arlo ended up having to lead Ronnie into the bathroom with a trail of Pokemon treats (he kept some in his pockets for each type just in case, and had found that Ronnie liked the Dark type ones), since despite returning the bottle like they were playing fetch, Ronnie first went limp and then started squirming when Arlo tried to pick him up. Even with all of his strength and training in handling Pokemon, there wasn't much he could do about that with a dog who outweighed him.

When he needed to lift heavy loads at home, he sent out Mr. Wiggles. His Dragonite from back in Kanto wasn't much of a fighter, but was more than happy to help his trainer in exchange for hugs and show off the strength of his arms. And was Arlo's only Pokémon that really had arms. Gil's pincers were capable of surprisingly fine operations, but unsuitable for carrying loads since if he put force into them, said heavy load would end up more likely crushed than transported. But none of his Pokemon were options since he didn't feel safe bringing them to the past -- even though they weren't technically in Orre, he didn't have a valid trainer card in that timeline and existing near Orre within 5 years of the XD001 incident with strong Pokemon was asking for trouble. Even if they weren't also Shadow Pokemon. Of course, Arlo was pretty sure that was what Ronnie was at this point, since he'd seen both forms give off aura, but since he couldn't use moves and didn't resemble any known Pokemon species, he just got identified by bystanders as a "weird dog".

With Arlo's entire canister of Dark type treats dispensed and plenty of coaxing and noises, plus one chew toy, Ronnie finally got into the tub and was willing to accept the flea dip and water being rubbed into his fur, provided they also got everywhere else. At least when he shook himself dry, Arlo was already soaked. After shaking himself dry, the werewolf was fitted with some flea bracelets, to which he strenuously objected. (his neck was occupied by the spike collar Arlo had bought for him at Subject Debate when they first met. By sheer force of luck, it perfectly fit both his human and werewolf forms, so the locket had been engraved with Ronnie's and Arlo's identification on the inside in case he ever got lost while in wolf form.)

After the application of the flea bracelets, Ronnie shook himself one more time, just to shed water and fur on any surface he missed... and then started shivering and looked pathetically up at Arlo.

"Oh, let me guess, you're cold and you want to cuddle? You know, I'm not really sure I believe you don't have any of your cognitive faculties in wolf form... come on. Let's head out to the living room and find something to watch, and I'll get you a treat since you didn't bite me."

\*\*\*

After clicking through several cable channels that didn't look especially interesting (or seemed like the kind of teen horror schlock that Ronnie liked, but Arlo could just as well have done without given his partner's presently not being sentient), Arlo eventually settled on a documentary network which seemed to be showing something about polar exploration. It wasn't something he would have typically watched, but he didn't usually... watch TV much at all; the only reason he was here was that all his usual digital recreations didn't exist. Besides, Ronnie seemed into it (or maybe just their sled dogs? looking at them, Arlo wasn't totally sure they weren't a previously undescribed Houndoom variant; he could swear they had horns) and the purpose of this was so they had background noise for cuddling. Unsurprisingly, Ronnie stopped shivering after Arlo beckoned him up next to him on the couch, contemplating how much of the shivering was performative and if wolf Ronnie even had the cognitive faculties for that. Arlo reached down to scratch him behind the ears.

"You're lucky you're so cute. You'd kinda be an asshole if you weren't."

This state of affairs continued for about half an hour, until Ronnie got bored, jumped off the couch, and started barking. Arlo looked around the room, and pulled out his phone to check the time.

"Let me guess, you want food? I don't know where human you puts the stuff here...or for that matter, what werewolves should eat. Let me check the kitchen, okay?"

Arlo wasn't sure why he was talking to the creature, seeing as it understood him even less than a Pokemon would. Well, that would be the case if this were a normal dog. Arlo couldn't really tell if Ronnie understood, since he stopped barking but did trot off behind him towards the kitchen, looking up at him pathetically and making high-pitched noises. After a search of the cabinets failed to yield anything clearly designated as dog food, Arlo settled for a few slices of non-salted lunch meat and placed them down in front of the improbably colored canine.

"Don't come crying to me if you return to human form and don't know why you can't make a sandwich. If you don't want this you eating your people food, you need to put actual dog food somewhere I can find. I'm not buying it for you. After all, you're an adult and can shop for yourself. ...wait, do you have the same flavor preferences? Does canine nutrition even apply to you? You clearly don't have any issues with chocolate in human form, even when you have the ears and tail and such... gods, you just open up so many biological questions by your very presence, don't you, honey?"

Ronnie looked straight up at Arlo, wagging his tail and licking the remains of the lunch meat off his lips. Despite all plausible evidence, Arlo was pretty sure that the were-wolfdog had understood him.

\*\*\*

Several hours later, it was approaching midnight and Arlo would have been thinking about getting ready for bed, if not for Ronnie incessantly barking at the apartment's front door. With hesitation and a Pokeball at the ready, Arlo slowly opened the door, figuring that anything that wanted to visit Ronnie at this time of night and knew where he lived couldn't be good.

Instead of the expected assailant aiming to fight Ronnie, what faced Ronnie in the doorway was another large, implausibly colored and proportioned dog with scene hair. This one had long black bangs on both sides of its head, highlighting large ears that were rounded on one side and pointed on the other. An overbite revealed two prominent fangs, standing out from a head that seemed just slightly too large for the creature's body. Also oversized in comparison to its lean body of comparable length to Ronnie's were its front and back paws, which contrasted with an excitedly wagging tail that looked more like a rope or something you'd see on a rodent than any kind of dog save the fluffy tuft at the end.

The impression that whatever this was, it wasn't a normal dog was fully carried about by the color scheme: mostly layered black and grey, except for sharp and nearly luminescent blue-green highlights on the beast's fluff (of which there was quite a lot despite its slender body and neotenic proportions), starry patterns dotting its back, and the tips of its bangs. Arlo was certain that he'd seen the creature somewhere; its hair and overall presentation seemed remarkably familiar, but he was pretty sure that if he'd met this dog before he would remember. After all, Ronnie was the only sparkledog he knew of, and this wasn't any species of Pokemon he recognized.

Regardless, Ronnie definitely did know the other dog, since while Arlo stared at the green beast in disbelief, the two sparkledogs had transitioned from excited barking and wagging their tails at each other to rolling on the doorstep wrestling like they'd been together since they were puppies. Arlo couldn't help but smile at the display, although several more pressing matters were still at top of mind: why were there two implausibly colored emo dogs in Las Vegas, did this have to do with Ronnie, and what was he going to do with another one? (And if Ronnie had been running around biting people, they'd need to have a chat about that when he returned to human form.)

Arlo ducked back into the apartment, keeping one eye behind him at Ronnie and his mysterious friend, and dug around the vicinity of the couch until he found Ronnie's favorite squeaky bone, a sparkly red number albeit darkened by dirt and wear and covered in slobber and teeth marks. Returning to the doorstep where Ronnie and his little friend were still engrossed in each other, Arlo squeezed the bone a couple of times, making it produce a blaring and ear-splitting series of squawks that got Ronnie's attention, his tail wagging rapidly as he ran around Arlo's legs trying to get him to throw the toy.

"You can have your squeaky bone after we go to the front desk, okay, boy? I see you've made a friend, but we need to check to make sure he doesn't already have a person. After all, someone might be looking for him and be worried sick that he hasn't come home!"

Arlo usually tried to avoid using gendered pronouns for nonhumans whose sex he didn't know, but something about the green dog, looking at its face and hair, gave him the impression that this was definitely a he.

Where have I seen that before?

Temporarily putting that thought to rest in favor of more pragmatic aims, Arlo squeezed the squeaky bone all the way to the apartment complex's front office, Ronnie following the sound and the other dog following Ronnie. All the way, they occasionally sniffed or barked at each other for no discernible reason.

\*\*\*

The balding, greying-brown-haired man at the apartment office front desk reminded Arlo a bit of a male version of Blanche's book club friends, although his physical build was closer to Cliff's. He barely had a neck, but in the organic way that came from years of hard physical labor rather than whatever OTL Ronnie had been doing. Based on the bags under his eyes, the man at the front desk would rather have been just about anywhere else. A nameplate on the desk read "Clyde". He raised one eyebrow upon seeing Arlo approach, followed by two absurdly colored dogs.

"Oh. You must be Ronnie's boyfriend. I've heard a lot about you... See you've got his dog with you, but what's the other one? Ronnie knows he can only have up to 200 pounds of dog, and that purple thing is pushing it on its own."

"That's what I was hoping you knew. This other dog was sniffing around the front door. Ronnie...uh, Ronnie's dog really seems to like him, but I've never seen the green one before and there's no collar. Do you know if anyone in the area's missing a dog that looks like this?"

Clyde got up from behind the bulletproof glass-shielded desk and walked around the green creature, both dogs barking and sniffing at him all the while. He returned to the desk with a dramatic shrug.

"The kids these days and their body mods...tattoos and hair dye on you are one thing, but leave the poor animal out of it! There aren't that many dogs in this complex, and except Ronnie's monster, they're all a lot smaller than that and not, uh, green. I can call a vet to put up neighborhood notices for a missing weird dog, but they won't be open until the morning."

"So, what should I do with this thing until then? Should I keep him here?"

Clyde sighed. "Don't make a habit of it. I'm not convinced Ronnie isn't over the weight limit for dogs already, and that purple thing makes enough of a mess, but they do seem to like each other and if it's in his unit it isn't digging through the trash and at least it's supervised. Keep it with you overnight and then bring it back here in the morning and we can figure something out."

"All right, boys, I guess you're having a sleepover!"

Both sparkledogs wagged their tails in Arlo and Clyde's direction, looking for all the world like they were feigning innocence.

"Tell Ronnie that if those beasts tear up his room, he's footing the bill." Clyde made a final remark before directing his attention back towards a blocky grey LCD monitor.