Ditzy had agreed to meet Cheerilee at the café; from there they would head to The Parched Saddle and meet the boys. She felt a little over dressed sitting in the café, but the air was cool, and she enjoyed a small coffee. She wasn’t used to staying up late, and Rarity had told her a little caffeine would help.

Cheerilee was not long. She too wore a small evening cloak, along with a gold necklace and matching earrings. She was looking around the café, when Ditzy waved her over.

“Oh, my,” Cheerilee stammered, “Ditzy, you look stunning! Wow!”

Cheerilee laughed nervously, “I mean, not that you don’t normally look good, but– I’ll just be quiet now.”

“Thanks,” Ditzy giggled, blushing. “You look very nice too. I’m not too dressed up, am I?”

Cheerilee stood there, slack jawed.

“N-no,” Cheerilee stammered. “You look amazing.

“I said that already, didn’t I?” Cheerilee chuckled. “Shall we get going, before I embarrass myself any further?”

Their entrance to The Parched Saddle had the very effect Rarity had intended. Ditzy blanched under the combined gaze of so many of the pubs patronage. Somepony let out a wolf-whistle. After a few seconds, everypony turned back to their conversations. Stallions back to their dates. Mares glowering at said dates. The din of the crowd returned to its normal level.

Cheerilee nudged the still shocked Ditzy. “Let’s check our coats in and see the boys.”

Two pairs of eyes remained on the girls as they approached.

“Good evening Big Mac, Caramel,” Cheerilee smiled. Cheerilee turned to Caramel. “Caramel, this is our friend Ditzy Doo. Ditzy, Caramel.”

“G’evening,” Ditzy stammered at the gawking amber stallion before her. “Hi, Big Mac.”

Cheerilee reached across the table, and with her hoof, closed Caramel’s slack-jawed mouth, as Big Mac chuckled. “Now, why don’t I ever elicit that reaction,” Cheerilee jokingly pouted. “Caramel owns Hayseed Mill, out by Sweet Apple Acres.”

“Good evening, Ms Doo,” Big Mac nodded. “You look wonderful tonight.”

“Please, call me Ditzy,” she blushed. “Ms Doo makes me feel old.”

“Well, then good evening, Ditzy,” he smiled.

“Can I get anyone drinks?” Caramel recovered. “Ditzy? Cheerilee?”

Ditzy was glad Rarity prepared her for this: Ditzy was not normally a drinker. “Could I have a small glass of Riesling?”

“Ooo, that sounds nice, I’ll have one too,” Cheerilee smiled.

“Pale Ale,” Big Mac piped up.

“As long as you’ve got the next round,” Caramel laughed. “You still owe me from last time!”

Caramel returned, skillfully balancing the tray of drinks on his back. He slid the tray onto the table they had gathered around. The two mares sipped at their glasses as the group fell into chatter. Ditzy didn’t have much to add to the conversation; she didn’t know these ponies overly well, but she appreciated that Big Mac and Cheerilee had made efforts to keep Ditzy in the conversation.

Ditzy drank slowly, she was still on her first glass by the time Cheerilee was on her third. Big Mac’s drawl was becoming more pronounced as he continued to drink, and Caramel had developed reddening cheeks and a sheepish grin on his face.

Ditzy excused herself to go and buy a second glass, but Big Mac interrupted.

“Nooooooooope,” he stammered. “S’mah treat.”

“Oh, yoooou’ll buy for her,” Caramel called out, a look of mock hurt plastered across his face as Big Mac made his way towards the bar, “but nuthin for your good buddy Caramel? Pale Ale, PALE ALE!”

“Mill’s been doin’ bett’r th’n apples,” Big Mac called back. “Buy yer own!”

Cheerilee and Ditzy laughed.

Big Mac returned with the drinks; despite his joking, he was carrying two glasses of wine, and two pale ales.

“Yer lucky,” Caramel wrapped a forearm around Big Mac’s neck, “Y’uh might be bigger’n me, but I’d hate to embarrass you infrunna these two ladies.” With that, he playfully pushed his hoof against Big Mac’s muzzle. Then slipped to the floor. The three others roared with laughter.

“Ditzy,” Cheerilee sided up close, “C’mon and finish that. Le’s go an’ dance!”

“Cheerilee, I can’t drink that fast,” Ditzy protested, laughing at her friend’s eagerness.

“You’re too slow,” Cheerilee complained. Ditzy put down her glass and sighed. Cheerilee laughed as she grabbed Ditzy by the hoof and dragged her to the dance floor. “Later boyyyys!”

Ditzy felt embarrassed on the dance floor. She certainly lacked the grace most other ponies had, but seeing the other patrons in their current state, perhaps she didn’t stick out too much. She started to loosen up, and danced with her friend. She was still far more subdued with her dancing than Cheerilee, who had evidently been getting really into the music.

One particular song really got Cheerilee going.

“Oh! Mares Just Wanna Have Fun!” Cheerilee shouted into Ditzy’s ear, bumping flanks as she danced and laughed. “I was such a Cindy Clopper fan when I was younger.”

Cheerilee bumped a little too hard, and Ditzy stumbled into a stocky light brown pegasus stallion.

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” He barked down at her. “Oh, if it isn’t Derpy Hooves.”

The dark brown pegasus next to him guffawed. “How could she watch where she’s going? You’ve seen those eyes.”

The two roared with laughter.

Ditzy struggled to her feet.

YOU SHOULDN’T BE HERE!

She made her way to the door.

THEY’RE RIGHT TO LAUGH AT YOU!

“Look at her run away!” the dark brown pegasus called out. “Is she drunk, or just derpy?”

EVERYPONY IS LAUGHING AT YOU!

Ditzy broke into a run, and spilled out into the night.

YOU WERE A FOAL TO EVEN COME HERE!

What do we do when somepony says something mean to us?

We run away. Crying.

Big Mac was stunned, as Cheerilee stormed up to the table, a look of both anger and hurt on her face.

“Whassup Cheery? Caramel slurred. “Where’s Ditzy?”

“We have to go after her,” Cheerilee barked. “Now!”

Big Mac sobered, looking around for the grey mare. “Where did she go?”

“She ran out the door. Now, move!” she commanded with a voice only a teacher could. Cheerilee went to the coat check, and as she’d guessed, Ditzy had left her cloak behind. She collected the cloak, and the three ponies exited into the cold night.

“Ditzy,” Cheerilee called out.

“Ditzy,” Big Mac called out.

“Ditzy Doo?” Caramel finished.

Nowhere could she be seen.

Big Mac moved to Cheerilee’s side. “What happened?”

“Those,” Cheerilee bit her lip, shaking with anger. “Those bucking rumpholes!” Cheerilee bucked her rear legs and kicked the fountain base they’d stopped at. Big Mac and Caramel looked at Cheerilee in awe. Neither had ever seen the mare so angry. Of the three, she was always the quiet, reserved one.

Adrenaline worn off, Cheerilee slumped, and rubbed her rear hooves.

“As far as smart moves go,” she groaned, “that was not one of my finer ideas.”

“Cheerilee! What happened?” Big Mac shouted, impatient with not knowing what had caused Ditzy to run.

Cheerilee explained what had happened with the two stallions, their taunts and laughter at Ditzy’s fall.

“Celestia, it was my fault!” Cheerilee whined. “I was the drunken foal who knocked her over.” She tried to stand. Cheerilee cursed under her breath as she lifted her right hoof off the ground.

“Caramel,” Big Mac turned to the other stallion. “Can you take Cheerilee home? I’ll look for Ditzy.”

Caramel nodded, and helped Cheerilee to her feet. “C’mon Cheery, let’s get you home. Big Mac’ll find her.”

Cheerilee passed Ditzy’s cloak to Big Mac, her eyes pleading. “Please, find her.”

Once they were gone, Big Mac was unsure where exactly to look. He wandered along the route to Ditzy’s home, calling out her name as he went. He ignored the few angry shouts from ponies complaining about the time. When he finally got to Ditzy’s, the door was closed and there was no light inside. He wondered to himself where she could be, but did not know where else she might have gone.

He sat down on the uneven porch, and waited.

Twenty minutes later, he saw a forlorn looking mare staggering her way up the path.

“Big Mac?” Ditzy had looked up, bleary eyed at his face. “What? Why?”

“We were worried about you,” he smiled.

He looked at the grey mare, her mane dishevelled, her cheeks stained with black streaks from her eyes. She sniffled and tried to wipe her tears, only smearing the makeup further. He held out a hoof, and helped her onto the porch. She made her way towards the door, only to trip on the loose floor boarding.

She stifled a sob as Big Mac helped her up. Big Mac helped her with the door. Ditzy remained quiet and sullen as she moved throughout the house.

Feeling the chill throughout the small cottage, Big Mac moved to the kitchen to light the fire. He watched as Ditzy wandered about the house in a daze. She moved about with an empty expression, lost in painful thought. When the fire was warm enough, Big Mac put the kettle on to boil. He pulled Ditzy to the front room, and sat her down next to him on the rug.

“I looked so stupid tonight,” she whispered. It took Big Mac a few seconds to register what she had said. He put a forearm around her shoulder, and pulled her into a warm hug.

“You were the most beautiful mare there tonight.”

Ditzy froze.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” she sniffed.

“Nope,” he replied. “It’s true. Apples are nothin’, if not honest!” He pulled her tighter into the hug. The levee broke, and he held her as she sobbed on his shoulder.

Big Mac stoked the fire. Ditzy had fallen asleep leaning against him, so he’d helped her to the bed and tucked her in. She was shivering, so he filled the remaining water from the kettle into a hot water bottle. He’d brought it back and tucked it behind her back.

Big Mac took stock of the cottage while she dozed. He frowned as he noticed holes in the hatching on the roof. He took a close look at the door; the floor board had warped up and obviously blocked the door from opening. He continued to look around, making a mental list.

Looking past the flaws in the structure of the house, he smiled as he stared at what made this place a home. Photo frames dotted every surface around the cottage. No matter where he looked, there was a small photo of Dinky, or Ditzy and Dinky, staring back at him. Smiling.

His eyes started to droop, as he sat on the small rug. Sleep overcame him.

Ditzy crept quietly through the kitchen, careful not to wake her unexpected guest. She thought back to the previous night. What the pesasi at the bar said had hurt, and she felt embarrassed she hadn’t spoken to her friends before charging out of the bar at full speed. She’d gone to Rarity’s, but the lights were all off, and she hadn’t wanted to ruin Rarity’s night by waking her. She’d wandered, cold and alone, until she gave up and came home. She’d been surprised when Big Mac had been waiting for her. She’d fumbled her way inside, and he had taken care of her. She recalled sobbing like a child on his shoulder. But he hadn’t pushed her away. He’d just held her, and stroked her mane.

She stopped in her tracks.

He’d called her beautiful. She sat, holding a hoof to her mouth in amazement. Beautiful.

She didn’t remember falling asleep, but she’d awoke tucked into bed, and Big Mac had even been a gentlecolt, and slept on the floor.

Determination filled her. Breakfast. A wonderful breakfast.

She looked at the dismal contents of her pantry. There was not a lot, but she’d been living on a budget for years, and she knew she could make something good from what she had.

But first, she had to clean her face.

Big Mac woke, feeling stiff. He blearily looked around. Sunlight streamed into the small room.

Sunlight?

Why hadn’t the roosters woken him?

He look around. Dinky and Ditzy stared back at him. He blinked slowly. They were still there.

Photos.

He remembered where he was.

Then he heard a soft, musical humming.

Walking slowly into the kitchen, he watched as Ditzy had flitted about the kitchen, the smell of warm, fresh porridge filled his senses. Ditzy was humming cheerily to herself, stirring a small amount of honey into the bubbling pot of oats. Sunlight filtered through the window, her mane flowing like spun gold in the light, as she moved about the kitchen with grace. He watched her, and it seemed like a choreographed dance.

Her wings were spread, a smile of joy on her face. She was not flying, but it seemed to Big Mac that she could take to the sky soaring any minute.

She was beautiful.

Not just the beauty of the previous night, though she was stunningly beautiful then, he had to admit. But this simple, joyous mare before him. Hair unkempt, flowing behind her as she moved. She seemed to positively glow.

He gasped to himself.

The gasp drew her attention. Opening her eyes, she saw Big Mac watching her, and tripped. Next Chapter: Chapter 12 Estimated time remaining: 23 Minutes