A collaboration between myself and the ever delightful MrMopp8

Paul sat in his office, pecking at his keyboard and taking occasional sips from a cup of coffee that has long stopped steaming.

Only for his next sip to be interrupted by a ball of red fur suddenly clinging to his shoulder.

“WHATCHA' DOIN'?”

"Working, ironically on the file for that Arxur you terrified," the Human says, not so much as batting an eye at the Dossur.

Ketch scowls with an irritated grumble. “Damn dude, what does it take to make you jump?”

Paul sips from his coffee, eyes still locked to his monitor. "Someone screaming "Jellyfish!" while I'm at a beach."

Ketch quirked an eyebrow. “That your safeword or something.” She joked. Then the other eyebrow popped as the seed of thought she just planted in her own brain sprouted into a beanstalk. “OH-HO-HO, MAN!” She laughed. She skittered down his arm and right up to the monitor, standing on her hind leg pressing both paws against the screen so she could better read it. “What goes ON in that room?!”

"What goes on in that room is doctor-patient confidentiality and proper medical practice," the Human says, pulling the Dossur away from his monitor. "And you say that as someone who's never been stung by Satan's Shopping Bag."

Ketch gave a disappointed whine as she got gently dragged back by the torso. She was pretty sure she saw the words “Inferiority Issues” and that was it. At that last statement, though, Ketch looked up at him with wide eyes. “You got *stinging* shopping bags?”

"No," Paul says as he pulls open a drawer, "What we have are jellyfish, proof that nature has a wicked sense of humor."

The Human puts the Dossur in the drawer, not bothering to close it as he turns back to the computer. "Also, either eat the jerky I know you hid in there or throw it out, it's been in there for a while already."

Ketch looked around the drawer, “Oh hey! THAT'S where I put those.”

Paul rolls his eyes, huffing a slight chuckle.

Ketch was getting the feeling that Paul wanted to be left alone, so she respected Paul’s request regarding the jerky, busied herself gathering the meat sticks from the drawer in silence…

…For about seven seconds before an impish impulse prompted her to pop her head up and blurt, “DOES HE HAVE A SMALL DICK? IS THAT HIS INFERIORITY ISSUE?”

Paul cuts his eyes at the Dossur, pushed her head down, and shut the drawer.

* “Reptiles have two dicks!. True story!”*

Paul rolled his eyes at the muffled parting shot and resume his typing in in silence. He didn’t bother opening the drawer. If the little gremlin could get in there on her own, then he was sure she could get out.

Sure enough, Ketch rolled the drawer open by pushing along the ceiling and got back to gathering jerky with a self satisfied snicker. She got resourceful at some point and started tying the sticks into bundles with some loose rubber bands so she could chuck them off edge and haul them to her nest in one go. In her search for more bands, shuffling and folding over forgotten scraps of paper to check under them, she found a photo. An old one with bent edges and scratches, showing three smiling humans. A big, round one with tanned skin and short dark hair, a young teen with long blond hair, and a man with golden-tan skin and long brown hair, whose body was toned like an Olympic swimmer.

“HeeEEYYy~” Said Ketch, eying the muscular human like a particularly juicy fruit, “Stick me between THOSE pecs and call me a sandwich! Who’s this hottie, Paul?” She asked as she unconsciously made groping motions with her paws, kneading the image like a cat.

Paul raised an eyebrow, looking down into the drawer. "Who're you talk-"

Only to pause midsentence, staring at Ketch with an unreadable expression.

A face that quickly became conflicted, switching between amusement, disgust, and shock.

"Ketch," he said gently, as if preparing to tell a patient that they're terminal, "That's me."

Ketch's fantasy swiftly came crashing down, with all the grace of a glass chandelier.

“EW!” Ketch reared away from the photo as if it had come alive, her ears flat, fur spiked, and tail stiff as a bored. “OKAY, SWIPE TO THE LEFT,” She declared, wiping her paws off on her thighs, "WE’RE DONE!”

Paul shakes his head, leaning back in his chair as he picked up the photo, exposing the names on the back of it.

'Big Cool, Little Blue, Sweet'

"I honestly forgot that was in there," he said, rubbing a hand over his head as he examined the picture like it was a fossil, "Just like I forgot that I used to be hot."

“Yeah, no shit!” Said Ketch with her lip curled. Still reeling from the knowledge that she’d had dirty thoughts for Mr. Starchy-Ass McMidlife Crisis. She scampered up Paul’s shoulder to gawk at the uncanny photo with him. “I mean, was this back when you still strangled Mazics just to work up an appetite? You’re friggin RIPPED!”

Paul huffed, rubbing the frayed edge of the photo with a thumb. "Nah, this was back in California, when I still surfed. Had to be, I don't know, twenty something years ago."

The human smiles, a soft sort that Ketch had never seen on him, as he stares at the picture. "Riding waves the way I did back then, it'd sculpt you like a fuckin' Michelangelo masterpiece, so long as you went light on the beach food."

Ketch cocked her head and quirked an eyebrow at Paul in confusion. “You got hunky-lumps from sitting in a boat?”

That actually got a chuckle from the human.

"No Ketch, I didn't sit in a boat. Surfing is when you take a special-made board, head out into the water, and stand on it while waves pick it up and carry it. Skalga doesn't really have them, but back on Earth, those waves could get BIG."

“Ooooh! Cool.” said Ketch with a nod. However, it was clear that she wasn’t imagining the highrollers or people zooming over the water on sleek boards. She was imagining a Human balancing on a plank while bobbing up and down on some big ass waves.

Paul shakes his head bemusedly, already knowing exactly where the Dossur's head had gone. "I think I have a video or two of the competitions we entered somewhere on my computer or pad. Koa never let a good contest go unfilmed."

Ketch nodded and gave a noncommittal hum as if to say ‘Okay, cool.'

Then she thought about it.

Then her eyes narrowed.

*Wait, ‘competitions’?*

“… WAAAAAAAAAITAMINUTE!” she said, slowly turning to Paul with a paw on her hip and an ear cocked in inquiringly. “What kinda water bobbing IS this?”

Paul grins as he puts the photo aside, turning towards his computer. A few key strokes and clicks, and he found what he was looking for. "This kind," he said as he pressed play.

*"Long Beach is hanging high, let's see if he can -OOOOH, WIPE OUT! He's surfacing and swimming back to shore, no sign of his board anywhere!"*

Ketches eyes bulged as, instead of bobbing on loping waves, she saw a (sexy shirtless) human- for a split moment- ZOOMING along the side of a rolling tube of water! “WOAH-!” She leaned in as far as she could from her shoulder perch, literally and figuratively hanging on the edge of her seat, watching to see what would happen next.

"Yeah, that's what I was expecting," Paul says as he leans back in his chair. "Just watch though, Koa's about to come up."

Sure enough, the well-fed Human from Paul's photo was the next in the water, catching the wave with ease.

He stayed up longer than Ketch expected him to, riding high to the top of the wave as it eventually petered out.

Only to then ride high on the next wave, and the next after that.

“WOAH! WOAH!” Ketch barked excitedly, limbs suddenly spread out and tail erect, eyes wide with wonder, blown out of her little mind. “HOW’S ‘FAT GUY DOIN THAT?!” She jerked towards Paul “HOW’S ‘E MOVE’N LIKE THAT?!” She zipped around to his other shoulder to get a different angle. “IS THERE A MOTOR UNDER THERE!?” She flung herself to the top of the screen and pear at it upside down. “IS HE GETTING PUSHED BY A FISH?!” She leapt on top of Paul’s head. “DOES HE HAVE POWERS!?” She leaned way over and him in the eye, claws digging into his scalp. “IS IT MAGIC OR SOMETHING?! THAT’S SO AWSOME!!” EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

In the same rodent speed, the manic little new fan girl zipped around to Paul’s chest and grabbed him by the collar. “COME ON! WHATS THE WITCHCRAFT, MAN!?” She demanded, “I'M DYING HERE!”

Paul laughed, smiling wide as the Dossur scurried all over him and his desk. "That's just Koa doing his thing," he said, still chuckling, "No one could hang like Big Cool. Taught me and Chet how to surf, but that old Hawaiian was always better!"

“Uh-huh yeah sure.” Said Ketch like she didn’t know or care what that meant, then got right back to the important stuff with bright eyes. “HEY WE’RE GONNA GO DO THAT RIGHT?” She was almost bouncing on her feet there on Paul’s sternum.

Paul grinned down at Ketch with a raised eyebrow.
"You sure?" he asked, "Those waves kill people, you know."

“Yer' POINT?” Ketch asked wryly, “LEMME AT ‘EM!”

"Alright, alright!" Paul chuckles, picking the photo back up, "We ever get to Earth, I'll take you surfing with me. Start out on Koa's stretch of beach, waves there have always been chill."

The Human looks back at the picture, eyes softening. "I know Chet wants to take his kids to where we spread him, so he can meet them."

Ketch, future Queen of the Waves, was now the happiest Dossur on the planet.

“WAH-HOO! ARIGHT!” The ecstatic rodent yelled as she scurried, leaped, and bounded around the man, his desk, and his chair, in a celebratory lap, leaving a lampshade spinning and nearly knocking over the computer monitor as she vaulted off of them. She stuck the landing atop Paul’s chair at the mention of Chet and fam, ears perked. “Beach party with the fat guy, SkalgaDude AND the Siv-kids!” Her tail perked up with an excited, happy series of twitches at the thought of being part of a full blown, joint family vacation, “I LOVE KIDS! This is gonna ROCK!”

But then she she proceeded the rest of Paul’s statement, namely 'Where we spread him,' and her tail slowly drooped as she put two and two together. After all, coming from a cleanse-by-fire culture, crematory rites were far from a foreign concept to her.

“OHHHHHhhhhhhh. . . . ” Ketch trailed off, glancing at the photo with awkward cringe. She kinda spoiled a moment there, didn’t she? OOPS. “Soooo Siv-fam and a dead guy, then?” She said in a weak attempt to patch up her irreverence.

Paul's smile dims some, but doesn't leave his face. "Yeah, beach party with Chet's family and Koa. He would have loved to meet you, you know?" Paul looks back down to the photograph, a certain sort of sheen to his eyes, one of nostalgia and long-spent mourning.

Ketch cocked her head back in surprise at the sudden sappy turn this conversation had taken. More so that it it was turned towards HER. This was… weird… awkward… and a little touching.

… Yeah, that was an I-Need-a-Hug kinda look right there. Time to switch gears.

Softly crawling onto the man’s shoulder and sitting herself down, Ketch looked up at his eye with a more sincere expression. “Yeesh, you really miss him, dont’cha?”

Paul looks over to her, staring in surprise for a moment before nodding.

"I do. Koa was. . . He was a good friend, one that always had the right advice. "Wisest dude you'd find sleeping in the sand," as Chet put it."

*"Okaaaaaay, weird-ass expression."* Ketch thought.

Paul looks back to the photo, bring a hand up to rest on Ketch's back. "He passed five years ago, was the reason I came to Skalga, in fact. Heh, that video you saw was from that very year."

Ketch lifted an eyebrow and dropped her ears as if both judging and pitying Paul’s decision. “Uh, yeah, hate to break it to ya, but you came to the wrong planet to mourn. V.P. SUCKS.” She shrugged “I mean don’t get me wrong! Screwing with Exterminators here is pretty fun- They’re NUTS- But. . .Yeah….” She rolled her eyes and bitterly mumbled. “Place just sorta kicks ya while you’re down,”

Paul huffs, nodding along to her words. "That's the thing, it was Koa who convinced me. He told me "There is work there that only Sweet can do, the way that Sweet can do it." I had your same complaints, I'd heard the stories, but he insisted."

Paul side eyes the dossur on his shoulder for a brief moment, before looking back to the photo. ". . . I'll be honest, I think I've come to see what he means. Something that he'd be pleased about, no doubt."

Ketch blinked. Looked left, looked right, then cocked her head. “Ok first of all, Sweet? Wuzzat mean?”

Ketch was confused for a minute until she remembered the names on the back of the photo. “Is Sweet your nickname or something? Why do they call you- Wait, hang on. . ” Seized upon by sudden curiosity, she abruptly LICKED the humans earlobe and smacked her tongue thoughtfully as she considered the taste. “NnnnnNOPE. That ain’t it.”

Paul blinked.

"Never do that again." He said with a perfectly flat tone. Then he continued. "And it was because I was a good surfer. Heh, while I was never as good as Koa, nobody other than him could outdo me. "He's sweet on those waves," they'd say back then. People repeating that is how Koa got the idea for the nickname."

“Oh.” Nodded Ketch, sufficiently satisfied. “\Sweet*.”*

Ketch looked at the image of the surfer frozen on the paused screen. Then back at her human, ". . . WELL COME ON!” She said with impatient excitement, “YOU GONNA PRESS PLAY OR WHAT?”

Paul actually laughs at that. Subdued, but a real laugh none the less.

"You're lucky you found that photo just when I finished with work," the Human said as he pressed play on the video.

Leaning back in his chair, Paul lets loose a quiet breath, and almost loses himself to watching the waves. He thinks about how he'd shift his board on them, where he'd put his feet, where his hands would hang.

A squeal from his shoulder reminded him he wasn't alone in watching the video. Looking over at the Dossur on his shoulder, enraptured by the moves of the surfers on the screen and mimicking their footwork herself, Paul smiles and shakes his head.

"Fine, Big Cool," he thinks ruefully, looking back to the screen, "You were right."