After all this time, Sierra was finally going to get an autograph. 
It was all because of her job, really. She worked far too many hours at the Poké Mart in Turffield to make the trip up to Circhester and stay for any substantial amount of time. But she’d done it- she’d bided her time, hoarded her allotted sick days, and she was finally blowing them all for a single purpose.
After all this time, she was going to get to see him.
Her friend had a place of her own in Circhester, so it wasn’t like she had to pay for a room at Hotel Ionia. Thank goodness- she dreaded to think what their rates were. She knew tourism was a booming business there, but she didn’t exactly have the funds to contribute to the cause. So, she made it there the night before and crashed until morning. After the day of the battle, she’d still have a day before she needed to head back home- and she promised Petra she’d spend the afternoon with her, letting the studious girl take her to all the secret hot spots in Circhester. But that wasn’t until tomorrow.
As she climbed into her seat in the stadium to wait until showtime, Sierra could only pray he won. Gordie was notoriously moody whenever he lost- he always shut himself in the locker room and wouldn’t come out for hours. Sierra usually didn’t mind it too much. After all, it was good to be passionate about your line of work. However, time was money, and if he lost, he’d be holing himself up in there far longer than Sierra would likely be able to wait.
Chewing her lip, Sierra stared down at the photo in her lap. It was her favorite of his from one of the several fan-sourced photo albums- a photo of him right after winning a particularly tough battle. Gordie stood, cocky smile crooked and blue eyes bright behind his slightly drooping sunglasses. He was the middle of swiping back his hair, the light, two-toned locks mussed from the intensity of competition.
Most people had him sign images of himself blowing a kiss, or making some other similarly- and often requested- flirtatious gesture, but this one was her favorite by far because of how real it was. He wasn’t trying to look good, though he never needed to, nor was he trying to rile anyone up. He was just tired but triumphant, happy with himself and his success.
Just looking at it made her heart flutter. The fact that she’d soon see him in person, and later, up close- she could barely contain herself.
-
He was just a dot on the gym’s field during the battle, and yet despite the fantastical displays of force from the competing pokémon, he was all she could focus on. She found herself leaning closer with each passing minute, like even an inch of space would give her a clear picture of him- a clear picture of Gordie, so confident, so cute…
He won, of course. The opposing trainer had been a little more prepared than usual, but Gordie’s Coalossal was no joke. She didn’t bother sticking around to hear his victory speech, though, as much as she would have liked. She immediately got to her feet as soon as the opponent’s final pokémon fainted and the match was called, hurrying down the stairs to make it to the exit. She’d come all this way. She needed to be the first in line for when Gordie came out.
She stood by the entrance to the field, heart racing in her chest like a startled ponyta. Gordie, Gordie, Gordie. Oh gosh- what did she say to him? Hi? That was too casual. Congrats on the win? He already knew what a good job he’d done. I’m such a big fan? Too cliché! I love you? Too direct! I wish you luck in your next battle? Too formal!
The door to the stadium opened and Sierra nearly jumped out of her skin. Gordie emerged from behind the door, brightening as he saw the gathered group of fans.
Sierra opened her mouth to greet him, a million different ideas rushing to her lips. In a panicked improvisation, she ended up combining ‘I wish you luck in your next battle’ and ‘I love you’ into-
“I wish I were you!”
Her face lit up redder than a poké ball as soon as the words escaped her. She’d blown it! Her chance to make a good impression and she’d blown it! 
Gordie stopped in his tracks, eyes wide behind his shades and brows darting to his hairline.
“I-I mean-” Sierra quickly uttered, the frantic excuses coming out in a rush of breath and sound. “I mean I-” realizing her apology was going nowhere fast, she thrust out the photo for him to sign. “C-could I have your autograph?”
“Hey, no worries,” Gordie said, grinning reassuringly. He took the photo from her, his usually cocky smile melting into something warmer, softer. “Hey- haven’t signed this one in a bit.”
“I-it’s my favorite,” Sierra said, chuckling nervously. 
Gordie laughed, all too easily matching the girl in mirth. “Well, you’ve got good taste,” he said, pulling out a thick permanent marker. He yanked off the cap with his teeth. “What’s your name?” 
“Sierra,” she replied.
“S-i-e-r-r-a,” Gordie echoed, scribbling his name and a message down on the photo. “Well, thanks for showin’ up, Sierra. It means a lot to see fans like you here supporting me.”
The rational part of Sierra’s brain told her he said this to everyone, but the lovesick part of her brain assured her he was being completely truthful- and she was far more inclined to listen to the latter.
“There you go,” Gordie said, handing back the photo. 
Sierra giggled, smile widening as she took it back from him. “Thank you so much!” she said.
“Thank you!” Gordie returned, waving and winking.
Sierra quickly hurried out of the way, making sure everyone else got their turn with the gym leader. She pulled off to the side, hands trembling as she held the signed photo in her hands. There, at the bottom, was his message:
You ROCK, Sierra!
Hugs and kisses,
Gordie
Sierra hurried back to Petra’s house without another word. She couldn’t wait to show her friend. Her heart was still racing even so far from the stadium. It still didn’t feel entirely real. She’d talked to him- she’d actually talked to him. He said her name, he looked at her, he reacted to her when she made a fool of herself, sure, but he reacted to her! That meant the world over!
She finally made it back to Petra’s place and walked inside. Shutting the door behind her, she spotted a note on the wall, scrawled in her friend’s handwriting. 
Ran out of something! Went to Poké Mart. Should be back soon!
Shrugging it off, Sierra walked into the living room. She collapsed onto the sofa, sighing contentedly. She held up the signed photo, the smell of permanent marker still heavy on the shiny surface.
“You rock,” she read again, an amused snort catching in the back of her throat. She traced the corners of the image, smiling to herself, only to wince. She yanked her free hand back, a stinging pain in her finger making her stare. A thin line of blood beaded from her fingertip. Papercut. Of course.
Not wanting to ruin the autographed photo out of her own stupidity, Sierra quickly put the photo on a nearby side table. She hurried to her feet, ushering herself into the kitchen and shoving her hand under the sink. Grumbling to herself, she turned on the faucet, letting the water wash over the tiny wound. 
A papercut on a photo! Who the hell got a papercut on a photo? Thank Arceus she hadn’t made that mistake while she was waiting for Gordie to show up! 
Eventually the bleeding stopped, and Sierra dried her hands. She sat back down on the couch, deciding to relax until Petra came back. As she did, however, she noticed her fingertips were beginning to tingle. Raising a brow, she looked down, lifting either of her hands to investigate. 
Before her eyes, her fingers began to grow. The skin puffed up, plumping slightly as her palms spread broader, softening and paling. Sierra froze, eyes wide. What the heck? What was going on? Was this some kind of weird allergic reaction? She supposed she didn’t really know what a photograph was made of, but she was pretty sure she knew what she was allergic to!
As if to answer her, the strange, tingling feeling spread up either of her arms. Her scrawny, stick-thin upper limbs began to thicken, fat forming in a soft, decent layer along the appendages, clinging to the sleeves of her tee. She turned her arms over a few times, feeling how the extra weight moved with her, how gravity reacted to the new mass. It didn’t feel like an allergic reaction. When people had allergic reactions and their bodies swelled up, it didn’t feel this- what was the word… natural! It felt as though her arms had been this size for a while now!
“H-huh…?”
The strange, tickling feeling moved up to either of her shoulders. With an inadvertent roll they broadened, expanding her startled frame in a slight sweep of bone. She had little time to react to that, however, at least audibly, as the tingling swarmed up her throat, gathering at a forming bulge in the center of her neck. She coughed a few times. It felt like she’d drunk a particularly fizzy soda way too fast, and now her throat was making her pay for it. With each cough, her voice deepened, light tones giving way to something smoother, male-r, more confident and-
“I sound like Gordie!” she gasped, clamping her larger hands over her mouth. Her cheeks brightened, the redness poking out from behind her fingers. Her fingers, wait- if her arms looked like that, and her hands like that, and she sounded like this, then that could only mean…
“I-I’m turning into Gordie!” she exclaimed, the sound muffled against her new hands. The words were hers, the voice his, pitch perfect and everything. There was no way this could be real- people didn’t transform like pokémon did, but how else could she explain what was happening? She pulled her palms away, beginning to laugh. Oh gosh, his laugh- it was so cute! It only made her laugh harder, slightly delirious from her excitement. 
Her upper torso began to tingle like her arms and shoulders once had. Her small chest swelled, round breasts sagging into less-defined soft mounds of fat piled atop light pectorals. She gave them a curious, excited prod with her fingers, the tingling leaping down to her stomach. Her gut swelled larger, expanding until it clung tighter to the front of her casual, poké ball-printed shirt, the insufficient fabric making the hem climb over her midriff. Her sides followed suit, plush fat filling out slightly as the curve of her spine straightened- the growth leaving her noticeably top-heavy.
Sierra wrapped her arms around herself, pulling her legs in to lie down on the couch. It was such an alien sensation- to feel like she was hugging herself and Gordie at the same time. She hardly minded, though. She was on cloud nine, entire body warm with surging delight. 
As she pulled her legs in, they too began to change. Her hips knocked closer as her slim thighs thickened, a layer of soft, smooth flesh flooding down her growing lower limbs until they were similar in size to her changed arms. Her denim shorts rode up slightly against the unexpected weight, but she was far, far too happy to care. Her feet cramped in her shoes, and she kicked them off, letting them grow out as her toes popped slightly larger. 
And with her legs done, that meant there was only one thing left unchanged.
Reaching up, Sierra felt over her tingling face with a peal of Gordie-sounding giggles. Her narrow, foxlike face filled out, rounding and softening with fat as her features warped. Her pointed nose squished into a small, round button, her eyes growing larger and irises deepening to a vivid blue. Her thin, dark brows lightened, fluffing and trimming until they were a thicker, styled pale blond.
The paler hue jumped to her hair proper, black locks lightening at the roots until they were a similar, pale blond color. From there, the color spread, running down the strands as her hair shortened, stopping at a little past her neck. As it moved down her hair, the strands deepened in vibrancy, the pale blond turning a vivid golden color halfway until it reached the tips. She carded her fingers through her hair, feeling the locks thickening and restyling, flopping all over and sweeping up at the ends- a familiar style that just thinking about made Sierra blush. 
She- or really, she preferred the thought of ‘he’ now, now that he was the spitting image- giggled and stroked his hair, still curled up in an excited ball on the couch. The sound of his laughter lulled him into a sense of comfort he’d never known- any thoughts of how he was supposed to get back to normal, or what he was going to tell his boss back at the Poké Mart about his change all far in the back of his mind. 
A sudden tug on his shirt drew his attention, and he gasped, eyes widening as he watched the fabric beginning to stretch over his larger gut, growing to fit his new size and once-short sleeves pulling down to his wrists. The collar of his shirt rose, popping up as the patterned top bleached, lightening in color until the black had become a light, pebbly gray, a polygonal stretch of white forming in the middle. Harsh, straight black lines marked the gray fabric, creating a pattern similar to a stone wall, while a black and white rock-type symbol pressed into the white space in the center.
“E-even his outfit?!” Sierra gasped. And yes, even his outfit.
His denim shorts grew in size, material expanding to better suit his heavier legs. They turned a similar gray, the black, patterned lines running up and down the garment. A black 188- Gordie’s league number- scrawled onto the front of his changed left pant leg. A beige blazer dropped over his shoulders and he tugged his arms through the sleeves, getting to his feet to better investigate his shifting attire. A gold-colored necklace with a circular, sapphire pendant clicked into place around his throat, and he couldn’t help but fiddle with it. As he did, a small, black and gray glove swarmed over his hand, leaving his thumb free. A black band wrapped around the index finger on his non-glove wearing hand. To top it all off, a pair of narrow, blue-tinted browline sunglasses settled on his face. He pushed them up his nose, flashing a toothy grin. 
He needed to see himself. Now. 
Sierra rushed to the other side of the living room, approaching a nearby mirror. Sure enough, there he was- Gordie, the Circhester gym leader, staring back at him in all his glory. Sierra laughed, grabbing either side of his face and watching his reflection to the same. His smile grew even wider as poked and prodded all over his cheeks, tugged on his hair, lost in the frenzied ecstasy of being so impossibly close someone he admired. So lost that he didn’t hear the front door open and close.
“O-oh gosh! Gordie!” a voice called.
Sierra whipped around, sunglasses nearly flying off his face with the velocity of the reaction. It was Petra- she was back from the store, bags still hanging from her arms.
“I-I can explain!” Sierra sputtered, color draining from his cheeks.
“My friend is such a big fan,” Petra said, depositing her bags on the couch. “Like- you wouldn’t even believe. Hey- while you’re here, can I get your autograph?”
Sierra blinked, chuckling nervously. 
So this is what it felt like, huh?