The gift shop outside the amusement park was a cramped maze of clashing colours and cheap nostalgia. A rack of t-shirts screamed ‘I Survived the Deathloop Drop!’ in bright fluorescent fonts, there were clear bins full of little plastic keychains, and all sorts of other Ancient Earth kitsch. 

T’Luni picked up a novelty postcard and examined it like she was looking at an artifact. “This level of commercialism seems disproportionate to the actual experience provided.”

Ezra grinned. “Yeah, that’s kind of the point.”

Meanwhile, Olaf had disappeared into the back of the shop, muttering something about “…finding the coolest souvenir in the whole shop…”

Ezra seized the moment. He caught T’Luni by the arm and pulled her closer to him, lowering his voice, “Hey… we could slip out for a bit. You know, just the two of us. Maybe find something… quieter?”

Her gaze met his, her eyes were steady, calm, but there was warmth behind her eyes. “I would find that acceptable.”

Ezra smiled. Victory. He gently steered her towards the door, past the rotating rack of oversized sunglasses, and back out onto the boardwalk. The sea breeze hit them, warm and fresh, clean compared to the sugary scent of the gift shop. For a fleeting, perfect moment, it was just the two of them.

Then –

“BENNETT, T’LUNI, WAIT UP!”

Ezra groaned. “Come on…” and T’Luni patted him reassuringly on the elbow. 

Olaf came jogging out of the shop, triumphant, holding a tube of shimmering liquid like it was a priceless treasure. 

“Check this out, guys! Old Earth Sunblock! It says SPF infinity, so it’s gotta work forever, right? Only two credits!”

Ezra grabbed the tube from Olaf’s hands. “This isn’t sunblock, dude. It says ‘Passion Pulse – for Radiant Encounters’.”

Olaf snatched it back. “Uh… same thing?” he said as he popped the cap. Then, before either of them could stop him, he squeezed a generous amount onto his hand. 

“Olaf, I wouldn’t…” Ezra started, but it was too late. Olaf smeared the shimmering gel all over his arms, neck, and face with a satisfied smile. “Smells kinda flowery,” he said, “Kind of nice though…”

T’Luni tilted her head, scanning the shimmering residue lingering on the skin. “That is not sunscreen. It is a concentrated pheromone enhancer. I would advise immediate –”, but it was too late. 

The first sign that something was amiss was a pair of passing Orion women strolling down the boardwalk. They both stopped mid-conversation and turned in unison to look at Olaf like predators who had spotted prey. 

Next, a Risian woman came walking by, then did a double-take and slowed down, biting her lip as she passed. 

And then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, a Klingon woman appeared from a nearby beach bar, sniffing the air. There was a rumbling low in her throat, then she growled out, “Who is responsible for that magnificent scent?”

The colour drained from Olaf’s face as he turned back to Ezra and T’Luni. “Tactical error?” he squeaked. 

Ezra nodded slowly. “Tactical error,” he repeated.

“We should go,” Olaf said, as he began to walk away. There was a growing crowd of women now, staring intently at him with hungry expressions. 

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Ezra said with a chuckle. 

Within moments, Olaf had a veritable entourage of women following him down the boardwalk. The Orion women kept circling, purring and stalking him like green panthers, the Klingon woman slapped him on the back so hard she almost laid him out flat on the ground and shouted something about the ‘mating chants of Khaless’, and a Bajoran jewelry vendor leaned out over her stall and shouted, “Hey handsome, over here!” 

Ezra was laughing now. “Wow, you’re like a walking pheromone bomb! I’m pretty sure I can actually see the hearts in their eyes.”

Olaf looked at him pleadingly, his eyes wide with fear. “What do I do?! They’re all looking at me like I’m dessert!” 

T’Luni answered in her usual, perfectly calm way. “That is a predictable reaction to high concentrations of chemically enhanced bonding agents. You should wash it off.”

The Klingon woman came forward and grabbed him by the arm. “No. He stays. I claim this one.”

The Orion girls pouted. “We saw him first.”

“Uh, ladies?” Olaf squeaked, “I’m flattered – really flattered – but I’m… busy? Yeah, I’m super busy. I’ve… I’ve gotta… gotta go… Bye!” 

He then turned and bolted down the boardwalk in a sheer panic, his trail of admirers following diligently behind him. 

“Do you think he’s gonna make it out of this alive?” Ezra asked T’Luni with a smirk as the pair began following, although not rushing, after him. 

She clasped her hands behind her back. “It seems unlikely, however… it is entertaining.”

They eventually caught up to him and found him trying, and failing, to wash it off in a decorative fountain, as the gaggle of lovestruck women closed in on him. 

He looked pleadingly at his friends. “T’Luni, what do I do?”

T’Luni offered the most logical solution. “If you submerge yourself in salt water, it might dilute the compound.”

He ducked and weaved his way between the arms of his amorous assailants, then sprinted to the edge of the pier, skidded to a halt, hopped the railing, and dove headfirst into the ocean, hitting the water with a distant splash. 

A moment of stunned silence followed, then one of the Orion women let out a loud sigh. “Well, that’s disappointing.”

The Klingon woman crossed her arms. “I’m waiting here. He has to surface eventually.”

Ezra and T’Luni leaned against the railing as Olaf’s head came bobbing back to the surface. “I’M STAYING OUT HERE FOREVER!” he shouted at them, before dunking himself below the surface again. The pair strolled further down the boardwalk towards the beach, leaving the Klingon, the Risian, and the Orions behind them. 

Moments after they reached the sand, a dripping, exhausted Olaf pulled himself out of the surf and staggered along after them. “Okay,” Olaf said when he caught up to them, “No more souvenirs.” 

Ezra laughed. “Yeah, until next time.”