"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?"

"Hi, Bob," says Bella. "So, we were wondering how Pokéballs work and Sherlock says you probably know."

"I do know," says Tony, "but unless you understand five-dimensional topology and space-folding, the explanation is pretty much 'um, magic?'."

"But you can do it with apricorns even if they don't work as well as the techy kinds, apricorns just - grow that way," laughs Bella, "are they magic?"

Bella giggles. "That," she asserts, "was cute."

"In terms less likely to make my pointy cuddle-buddies abandon me: Apricorns just do the same thing naturally that manufactured Pokéballs do with careful engineering."

"I should tell Renée about your issue with pointy cuddly 'mon, I bet she'd knit at least three fluffy Porygon-shaped sweaters before she got bored."

"Next time I call her, will do. I cannot guarantee that these sweaters will not be in garish colors."

"It's not like Porygon are known for their fashion sense."

"Yeah, I'm just imagining poor Bob in something in two shades of green and red-orange. With a pompom on top of his head."