“Fillies and Colts, Mares and Stallions, presenting the all new genuine cure for the common Equine cold! One-hundred-percent real dragon’s tears!” you call out, watching the faces of your crowd watch in wonder as fireworks set up by your accomplice fizz and explode behind you.

The “Dragon tears” were actually weak salt water, bottled by you and your companion, as part of your latest plot to make some money from the ignorant masses. Fillydelphia had been a cinch, as had Manehattan, and your newest stop in Ponyville was appearing to be just as easy. Usually, the mare who had travelled with you for a good few weeks now would have been the caller, but for some reason she felt the desire to mingle in the crowd as the next part of your “act”.

“Now, tell me, does anypony here have...” you start, pausing for dramatic effect, “the sniffles? Maybe a sore throat?”

“Maybe y’all should have been here six months ago durin’ flu season?” yells a female voice from somewhere in the crowd.

“Oh, my dear mare, I was in Cloudsdale at the time, distributing my wares to the very, very sick! and for only four bits per bottle! That’s less than one bit per dose! Now, is there anypony with cold or flu symptoms out there?”

A single blue hoof is raised, a few metres away from the behatted heckler. You smile, tilting your straw boater hat back on your head as your accomplice approaches the front of the crowd, all eyes upon her. Her cutie mark was hidden by a warm looking blanket, and her white mane was hidden expertly under a black wig, her horn hidden using her magic yet slightly visible if you looked close enough. She sniffles and sneezes on you, making you recoil in mock horror well enough to trigger laughter from the crowd.

Composing yourself again, you take a bottle between your lips and pour a small amount into a glass. She drinks the saline and continues wheezing, prompting more mocking from the heckler, until the noise of your “patient” is no longer heard.

The jeering stops, and the crowd once again turns their attention to Trixie, in her disguise.

“How do you feel, my dear?”

“I’m... I’d been suffering for weeks, thank you, so so much!” she acts, dramatically flinging her hooves around your neck. You had to admit that you somewhat enjoyed that part, even if it was usually in reversed roles. Pulling away, she winks at you as the crowd begin to form a queue at the foot of the stage.

The two of you had been running this con for a significant amount of time now, and had gotten the act down to a tee. One of you would be the salespony, the other would mix in with the crowd and appear when you requested. The con itself changed with the year; being a cure for the common cold in the summer, or a cure for prickly heat during the winter - this was so that anypony buying your wares would most likely forget about the bottle by the time the right season rolled around... of course, if they didn’t forget, the bottle had a use by date of a few weeks to convince them not to bother with it if it were out of date.

You had met Trixie in the slums of Manehattan, both of you homeless and living out of the garbage cans of the more up-rent homes in the city. Eventually, the pair of you had raised the money to buy and fit a cart by performing for... specialist films, with Trixie as your co-star; the mare using a “Great and Powerful” magician as her persona.

Of course, even after the money had been raised, the two of you had quite often mated with eachother between destinations; be it the result of needing the warmth or even out of sheer boredom, but it had quickly become normality despite the lack of any formal relationship with her.

As the cart began to empty of bottles, and your saddlebag became heavy with the jingling bits of another successfully conned populace, you notice her slip away ready to meet with you later on the outskirts of town. The con had originally been a rehash of a story she told you, how she had wandered into some backwater town and made claims of amazing feats hoping for a decent meal and a warm bed. The story had ended with her being chased out by a riot of ponies after some half-baked pimpled student had exposed her by accident, to which you suggested changing her plan.

Content, and carrying your now heavy saddlebags, you trot back towards the cart that you and Trixie had called home for the last couple of months. Securing the money, you hitch the cart up to yourself and begin to plod out of Ponyville, stopping by the bushes on the outskirts as planned. Feeling the cart get slightly heavier, and hearing the money jingle, you continue walking along the dirt track out of town.

“How’d we do today, Trix?”

“Trixie is still counting, but we’ve definitely passed the one-hundred bits mark. Trixie certainly does make a very convincing patient,”

“Hey, Trix, you’re doing it again.”

“Hmm. I suppose I am, but really, can you blame me? The Great and Powerful Trixie is an incredible actress of such renowned-”

“Porn star.” you say, grinning.

You hear a thud, obviously Trixie dropping back to all four hooves. She sighs before responding,

“Yes. The porn star.”

Smirking, and expecting a rebuttal or witty comeback, you wait for her response.

You wait some more.

“Trix?” You ask, turning back to see the burgundy velvet curtain in the front of the cart drawn closed. “Maybe I went a little too far this time.“

Feeling very guilty, you pull the cart to the side of the road and unhitch yourself. Slowly, you climb the short rough wooden steps at the back of the cart and peek your nose through into pitch black.

“Trixie?”

A sniffle and sob are your response,

“I’m sorry. I went too far.”

“It’s alright, at least... at least I have my stallion?”

You bring yourself fully inside the cart, eyes adjusting, seeing the silver maned mare on the bed, covered by the star and moon decorated blanket she had been wearing the first time you met. In your head, you think over her words, how she had called you “her stallion”. As the penny drops, you take a seat on the bed and run a hoof through her mane.

“Yeah, you have. You always have. I’m sorry Trix, I was out of turn. I guess I haven’t thought about what we’ve gone through together because I couldn’t face it.”

“You mean you didn’t want me?”

“No, I don’t mean that at all, I’d always thought you weren’t interested in me, that it was all just for show, that we did those things to survive. It never even entered my mind that you’d fall for me... or I for you.”

She sniffles, her head turning to face you, tear-stained cheeks wiped clean with another gentle caress. Seeing you, she giggles slightly, noticing that your wings had fully extended and had pushed the curtain open, allowing the moonlight to partially illuminate the room. Slowly, you lean down and kiss her on the cheek,

"You'll always have me, Trix, I adore you,"

"Would... would you like to take me tonight?"

"Yes," you reply, staring into her eyes,

"Just one thing, don't just mate with me, make love to me... please?"

"What ever you want, my love," you whisper into her ear, before trailing kisses around from her neck, to her muzzle, to her lips, accented with sweet tasting deep purple lipstick. You revel in the taste as your mouths move together, reaching an almost drunken high before realising that it wasn't the beautiful mare in your hooves causing the sensation, but the narcotic lipstick upon her.

"Oh, you're good, you're very, very good-" you manage to say, before slumping unconscious on her.

***

You wake in the cart alone the next day, as expected. The money is long gone, with all of Trixie's possessions. Cursing aloud, you glance at the mirror, which has a short note written on it in the same lipstick she had given you your goodnight kiss with previously;

"Hello Sweetie,

You're right, I am so very very good ;)

Love and hugs,

The Great and Incredibly Seductive Trixie."

Fin...

For now.