"I would be happy to help."

"Awesome. The explorer and the charmer and the psychic translator."

"Hm," says Sherlock.

"Hm?"

"The magic translator?" suggests Bella archly.

He laughs.

"The translator who studied audio of chattering 'mon in such exhaustive detail as to have learned what has eluded all linguists, for forever," she says with a dramatic gesture, "and who should really publish if it's that."

"It is not that."

"Then I can overlook your failure to publish! Do you know what it is?"

"I have my suspicions, but I don't imagine they are especially plausible."

"You could tell me anyway."

"Perhaps I am a Ditto in disguise," he deadpans.

"...Okay, I know I offended you last time you suggested you had an unusual theory about a thing, so I'm not even going to address that one."

He laughs. "Sorry."

"No big deal."

"Do you suppose it's dinnertime yet?"

"Nah, not really, unless you guys eat really early."

"Our schedule is flexible, insofar as it can be said to exist at all. But you're right, it's early. How shall we pass the time? Beat up the wildlife? Go ask Tony how Pokéballs work?"

"I would actually really like to know how Pokéballs work, d'you suppose he's up for an impromptu lecture?" laughs Bella.

"There is," says Sherlock, "one easy way to find out."

"Let's go perform the experiment."

Laughing, he heads for the tower.

Tony is on the ground floor, sitting at a computer with a Porygon in his lap.

"Hey," says Bella. "Which one is that?"