You try to open your eyes, but they feel heavy, like great weights are holding them closed. It's hard to tell, but you think your eyes are wrapped in bandaging. Maybe they noticed you vomiting when you tried to open them? Your body hurts in places you didn't know could hurt in the first place, your dry mouth tastes like seawater and vomit. Still, you're alive. At least, you think you're alive. It smells like disinfectant in here -- a hospital? How long have you been out? No, you were too far out at sea to be in a hospital already. Some sort of triage center set up for survivors, maybe in the sick bay of another ship. You can hear voices, nervous and excited, trying to keep their voices down.

Your skin feels dry, they must have removed your fatigues. It feels like you're wearing one of those paper gowns hospitals are so fond of, but it feels a little off, like they had to stick a few of them together. You're not so much wearing it as wrapped in it.

"...told Doctor Pulse that I found him on the edge of the Everfree Forest." That voice. It sounds so familiar. The same one you first heard after the incident. Petty Officer Parker? No, no, Parker was from Wisconsin with that Northern drawl. She wasn't even an Army girl. This sounds more...refined. Classy, even. It's not unpleasant. You hope she's your nurse. A hot nurse. With a garbage bag full of painkillers.

"I was just tracking down some Inkleaf flowers for fabric dye, you know the ones. I'd just put a few in my bags and then this...this...thing appeared out of mid-air! I swear, Twilight, if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I'd have never believed such a thing!"

Twilight? That can't be a real name. Can it? These people don't want you to know who they are...

Oh shit.

You're a prisoner. You have to be. No, calm down, maybe they're just with, like, the CIA or something. They use code names, right? And the project was top secret, every single person was authorized to work on it by POTUS -- the President -- himself. They could simply be trying to learn what you saw, what happened. Or you could be a prisoner of some foreign country. Neither is particularly pleasant to think about.

"You did the right thing coming to us, Rarity. He's in pretty bad shape but the doctor says he'll make it. He, uh...he may be a little shocked when he wakes up, though." Definitely a prisoner. Damnit.

"We don't know if he's dangerous," a male voice, firm and decisive. He sounds like your old First Sergeant. "For the time being, he will be kept restrained, but comfortable, in that bed." Now you notice the straps around you wrists and ankles, you can feel the slight pressure against your skin.

"I've never had a case like this, ladies, you must understand. We don't even know what he is, much less if he's capable of speech." Capable of speech? Oh god, maybe the incident shredded your vocal cords. You try to speak, panicking for the sound of your own voice, but all you can manage is a rasping, wet cough. Okay, best to try that later, when you're not about to pass out from exertion.

"Dangerous? He didn't seem very dangerous when we found him. Though, honestly, I can't remember ever hearing about something like him. Or reading. I had Spike help me search the library, but the Species Arcanum turns up nothing. Neither does the Equestrian Zoology series." What in the hell are they talking about? That second voice, the one with the codename "Twilight". Ugh, she must really like those books. You're surprised she didn't try to include "Sparkling" in her name.

You mentally slap yourself for the lazy joke. It stopped being funny two years ago.

"Yes, he seemed more on the verge of death than hostility. If I woke up in some strange land, the last thing I'd want to do is be viewed as some sort of monster. Clearly he's not very dangerous."

"How can you be so sure, Rarity? We haven't even seen him wake up yet."

"Well, when we were carrying him on that stretcher -- which, might I add, is far too small for such a thing -- he...he touched my hair. I thought he may have been trying to grab me at first, but he never showed even the slightest hint of aggression. Perhaps he was just looking for comfort?" Oh, finally. Someone with a bit of sense around here. "Goodness, I'm starting to sound like Fluttershy. I've been spending far too many hours with her at the spa lately."

"I'm surprised you even let him do so without screaming for dear life..."

"It could have been far worse, darling. Fortunately, my impeccably-curled mane was no worse for the wear."

You hear someone sigh.

"Okay, hair issues aside, Doctor Pulse is right. I'm willing to give him -- I think it's a him, anyway -- the benefit of the doubt. BUT, he needs to stay in that bed for now. Having him up and about might cause undue injury in his condition. I should probably get Spike to send a letter to the Princess about this. She'll want to know for sure."

"In the mean time, ladies, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Visiting hours are coming to an end and we need to monitor him tonight." Well, so much for the hot nurse with the pez dispenser of Vicodin. "Don't worry, he's in good hooves. Nurse Candy Care will be on watch tonight if he needs anything." Candy Care? Good hoves? The hell is going on here? They're really committed to this whole 'codename' thing. Maybe they're trying to get you better before they interrogate you for information, or they could be trying to use you for bargaining purposes. For the time being there's not really anything you can do to try and free yourself, and even if you did break out of these restraints, you're obviously in no condition to mount an escape.

"Let us know if anything happens?"

"Of course, Miss Sparkle."

Sparkle. AUGH. The voice in your head is kicking and screaming "I KNEW IT!"

You hear loud footsteps as the two women leave the room. Probably combat boots. There must have been guards with them, there were a lot of footsteps. Hell, there's probably two guys with assault rifles staring at you right now. A couple of people walk towards you, their footsteps getting progressively louder.

"Son, I don't know if you can hear me, or indeed, if you can even understand me, but I want you to know that you're alright for now. Are you able to nod your head? Go ahead and do so if you can understand what I'm saying." You try to give a verbal response, but all that comes out is another wet cough. You manage to barely nod your head. Ouch. "Oh, so you can understand me, then? Good. That's good. Yes, I'm afraid your lungs took quite a beating. If it weren't for the anesthesia spell from Nurse Goodheart, you'd have probably coughed up a lung by now. Proverbially speaking, of course." Did he just say 'spell'? Weird people here.

"I'm afraid my tenure for the night is at an end, but Nurse Candy Care will be here shortly. I must apologize for the restraints, but they're just as much for your sake as for ours. Miss Sparkle and Miss Rarity seem to believe you're not a threat -- and while I trust their judgment, I can't take any chances. Do you understand?"

You nod your head again, slowly. Your temples start pounding against the sides of your head. No more nodding questions, please.

"Very good. I will be back in the late morning to check on your status. If you've been deemed safe, I will remove the restraints, along with as many of those bandages as I can. No doubt you have a lot of questions, as do we," oh yes, you'd almost forgotten about the interrogations, "but I assure you I will try to help you as much as I can. Solemn vow and what-not. Sleep well, your body needs to rest." The doctor and his escort finally leave. Guards are probably still there, though. Might as well try and do as the doctor suggested.

Your body doesn't need much convincing, and within minutes you fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

==========

For once, you're awake before she is. You feel surprisingly well-rested for getting just shy of seven hours of sleep, no doubt due to the gigantic weight that has been recently lifted from your shoulders. Everything feels right again.

A pot of coffee sits on the counter, the comforting, familiar smell filling your lungs as you pour a cup and find your favorite chair, your well-worn boxers brushing against the cushions.

At some point in the night, the rain finally stopped, leaving the ground damp and the air heavy. The scent of rain flows in from a large, open window on a cool breeze. Early-rising ponies are already up and about, pulling wagons full of goods and cursing the road conditions. A few buildings down, a group of foals are laughing and splashing in the leftover puddles. Somepony's mother is calling to them in an annoyed voice. You smile to yourself and lay back in the padded chair, your coffee cup cradled between your hands. Ponyville is such a peaceful, even serene, place compared to the noise and clutter of your old post. No echoing gunfire from the various firing ranges, no noisy-ass diesel trucks roaring down the road, no whining turbines as tanks roll past your less-than-comfortable living quarters.

Best of all, no chairs that were made in the 1960's. You hated those chairs with a passion, and your ass was plopped in one most of the day, every day. You should have been a Tanker. You always heard those tanks are pretty comfortable inside. Your mom would have worried herself sick, though. God knows she worried enough when you told her you were joining up to be an engineer.

Hard to believe it's been a year and a half since you were in your old life. Nearly two years since you've seen your dear mom when you were on leave. You've adjusted to life pretty well here, it could definitely be worse...but you miss home sometimes. How many times did you and her used to get coffee together and talk about your brother and sisters? How many times did you confide in her with a problem in your life? How many times did she offer you advice that only a mother could give? Too many to count. You've slowly come to accept that you will, in all likelihood, never see her again, but it doesn't make it any easier. Rarity's mom and dad, on the rare occasions that they visit, have always been nice enough to you, sure, but it's not the same. You hope she didn't grieve for too long when they never found you.

Your younger brother was shaping up to be a good man when you saw him last. He's probably become the man of the house by now, he always did right by your two younger sisters. He'll be graduating high school soon. Your sisters, well...one of them hopefully won't remember much about your disappearance, she was only five at the time. Her sister was older by a few years, so she probably understood why you weren't coming back home. As far as they all knew, you were dead, swallowed by the endless ocean on a deployment they could know nothing about, on a mission you were literally sworn to protect with your life. They'd never know the true story, but as long as they could move on, things would gradually return to normal.

"I miss you guys" you say into your cup before taking a sip. Heh...if they could only see you now. They would never believe it if you told them. Hell, if you ever did manage to get back home, you'd likely be thrown in the loony bin when you started telling everyone about how you were living with a race of sentient, magical and/or flying ponies, watched over by a charming pair of princess horses who controlled celestial bodies with their minds. Oh, and you were having sex with an upper-class unicorn who made dresses and was part of something called "The Elements of Harmony", who defeated evil monsters with the power of rainbows and friendship.

Yep, perfectly normal. Surely no one would even think of locking you away and shoving pills down your throat for the rest of your life! You don't believe it yourself, sometimes. Maybe you're just dreaming this whole thing, like some terrible cop-out at the end of a TV show. You don't think you are, though. Dreams never made you tea and sucked your--

"Good morning, darling" that lovely voice calls out to you, yawning softly. Quiet hoof-falls on the floor. You glance over your shoulder and offer her a smile, and she attempts to return it. She's obviously still groggy, only able to return a weak, but genuine, smile to you. A stray sunbeam strikes her face and she blinks several times, turning away from it and groaning in annoyance. She may be a morning pony, but she's a morning pony after she's gone through her routine. Sure enough, she turns on the stove and levitates a coffee pitcher over to the sink, filling it up with water and placing it on the burner. She stares at the pitcher for a few seconds, trying to wake up a little, and only then does she notice the smell of coffee. Sitting right next to her. Already made. You laugh to yourself, a little louder than you intended. She makes an unamused grunt and removes the pitcher, floating a mug over instead. You wish she'd turn around so you can see the look on her face.

"Just how long were you going to let me go about making a whole new pot?" she asks without turning. She drops a few spoonfuls of cream and sugar in the cup and swirls it around with a spoon.

"Oh, I don't know, as long as it amused me, I suppose." you reply, hiding a smile. She finally turns around, bumping her triple-diamond cutie mark against a corner, wobbling her cup in the air. If you didn't know any better, you'd bet she's trying to off you with adorableness. Hilarious, clumsy adorableness. You idly wonder if her friends ever see her like this. She sips her coffee and sighs deeply.

"I'm glad you can find entertainment in my...tired...ness...this early in the morning. Morning time. Right now." How eloquent!

"Coffee any good?" you ask as she walks over to you.

"It's sufficient."

"Sufficient?"

"...very well, it's good. Tastes good. Happy?"

"Quite."

She waves a hoof at you. "Scooch."

You sit up and make room on the large chair, just enough for her to sit down. She climbs up next to you and puts her back to your chest, letting her tail fall off to one side. It hangs loosely over an arm rest. You pull your mug closer, careful to avoid her horn as it glows with a faint blue aura. The last thing you want to do is dump hot coffee over her head. You remember the last time she spilled something in her mane...it wasn't pretty. She was in the bathroom for nearly two hours trying to get it perfect again. The memory elicits a slight laugh from you.

"Hmmm?" She questions you with a look.

"Oh, nothing. Just a funny thought is all."

"I see. You sure are chipper this morning, dear. Just don't push it" she remarks with a genuine smile of her own before turning back around and taking a drink. Your good mood is infectious, it seems. You blame Pinkie for that. You both sit quietly for a few minutes, enjoying each others' company and watching the sun rise over the peaks of the distant mountains.

Should you bring up last night's events? Obviously it was a big deal, something that you can't just pretend never happened. That kind of thing always leads to more trouble down the line. You want to discuss it without bringing up any lasting issues that may still linger...

"Guess I just slept really well." you finally add, working over what you were going to say in your head a few times. "Had, uh....had a lot on my mind last night. When I first went to bed, that is." You hold your mug in one hand and place your other on her shoulder. She reaches up and holds her foreleg against it "It kills me that it happened in the first place."

"You and I both, it seems." It all feels so distant now. Mercifully distant. "I like to fancy myself a proper lady, yet I was anything but proper last night. I should not have let my frustrations with somepony else cloud my judgment. So for that, I sincerely apologize, darling. You know I'm not one to lose my temper like that. At least, not seriously." You grab her hoof in your hand and kiss it, grasping it in your fingers and squeezing for a moment.

"Yeah...I'm sorry too, babe. I, uh, I don't have a lot of practice at this 'serious relationship' thing. Like I told you before, I've only ever had a few girlfriends, and none of those lasted long enough for something like this to actually test the strength of those relationships. Live and learn, right?" She nods thoughtfully. "I'm a pretty quiet guy, not much of a social butterfly."

"Which I continue to try and solve, might I add" she quips.

"Of course. So when something like this happens, I just...I don't know. I didn't know how to react. All I know is I reacted wrong, and I'm sorry." She turns around to face you once more, shifting her body a bit so that she's sitting sideways on your legs. "So...do we forgive each other?" you ask her. She reaches up and kisses you softly. You brush her hair over her ear and smile, running your hand over her cheek. "Is that a yes?" For emphasis, she kisses you again, a little harder, and smiles.

"...I'm still not entirely sure. Getting mixed signals here."

She lets out an exasperated sigh and shakes her head. "Men. I swear, if you had anything between your ears you'd be dangerous." She playfully hits your chest with her hoof and presses the side of her head against your shoulder. You grab her still-floating mug from the air and set it down beside the chair, keeping your own in your hand. Your free hand starts running through her mane, long, soft curls and flowing lengths of hair parting between your fingers. She smiles and closes her eyes, laughing softly. "My hair must look terrible. I can only imagine it just...sticking up everywhere. But right now...I don't really care." You laugh back and kiss her horn, then finish the last of your coffee, setting the mug next to hers.

"I love you, babe." you tell her. It feels good to say it again, with nothing between you.

"I love you too, darling." She kisses your shoulder and closes her eyes again.

Long, wonderful minutes pass. It's the kind of tender intimacy you couldn't imagine sharing with anyone else. Even though the sex is fun and her adventurous spirit surprises you every so often, it's these moments you love the most. Just sitting here, in a comfortable old recliner, being next to her. You wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

Outside, the streets are beginning to get more populated. Miss Cheerilee is trotting to Ponyville's only elementary school, her saddle bags stuffed with graded papers and lesson plans. One of the Flower sisters is primping and preening her cart, arranging flowers of every color into beautiful (and, as you've learned before, expensive) bouquets.

"You remember when I bought you a bunch of flowers for the first time?" you ask Rarity, an immediate smile spreading across her face. "It was a few days after I started working, I think."

"Oh, oh my, yes!" she laughs. "I'd just returned from a trip and you were standing at the front door, bouquet in hand! Such a charmer."

"Yeah, and when I handed them to you, you ate some of them!" You both burst out laughing at the memory. "I can safely say that that reaction never even crossed my mind!"

"To be fair, darling, they were rather tasty. You should have seen the look on your face! I don't think I've ever seen you so surprised!"

To top it off, the next time you did something similar for her, you stuck a little note in: 'P.S: Please do not eat immediately'! She's laughing so hard she has to place a hoof against her side. It takes a few moments before you're both calm enough to speak.

"I should really be getting ready for the day, darling. We may be closed for the weekend, but one should always be prepared for guests and acquaintances. Not to mention the multitude of errands I need to run today. Let's see...I need to pick up some things at Fair Deal's market, order three rolls of blue silkweave," she tallies out loud, bobbing a hoof with each item, a way to list things without fingers, you suppose, "visit Applebloom to see how her leg is healing up, and, oh, I don't know...perhaps drop by Lace and Luxury?" She says the last one with a wry grin.

Lace and Luxury. Isn't that the shop down on Soresaddle Street? That would mean....oh. OH. That would be interesting. You've passed by the place a few times, but Rarity's always dismissed it. Or maybe she's been to it a few times to look around without your knowledge? You can't be sure. Either way, a place with the name "Lace and Luxury" has to sell some good stuff. You simply arch an eyebrow at her.

"I thought you might agree." she giggles. A refined giggle, of course. Oh yes, you definitely agree. "That's for later, however. For the time being, there are things which I simply must take care of today, and I'm sure you'd rather not be dragged along whilst I wander Ponyville and shop." Well, she's right on that one. Staring at rolls of fabric for two hours isn't exactly your idea of a good time. You'd still go if she asked you, of course.

"I thought so. It's alright, dear, I completely understand. Maybe you could see if the gentlecolts you work with aren't busy? Have a 'guys day', as you put it." That could work.

"Pretty sure they're off today, I think." you reply.

"Fabulous! I trust you'll control yourself, of course. Wouldn't want you stumbling around when we're going to be preoccupied tonight."

"I don't know, I'll have to weigh the two" you tease.

"Yes, ask me how much I believe that one." she replies with a less-than-convinced look. "Oh! I nearly forgot. I told Fluttershy we'd meet her for a late breakfast at Haute Cuisine's. Such a charming little establishment. Twilight took us there a few weeks ago and I thought it was simply delightful!" You weren't aware such plans were in place, though you couldn't really say no anyway. It is a pretty nice place, from the outside, anyway. You've never been there yourself. You just hope it isn't going to empty your coin pouch.

"I assure you, as an aficionado of the finer things in life, it will not make you a poor man. At least, not with a single visit." Fair enough.

"Now," she jumps down from the chair, landing on all four legs, "I will be in the little fillies' room if you need me, there is a brush with my name on it." With that, she trots off, humming to herself. You watch her as she does, paying special attention to her swaying hips. With a sigh, you grab the empty coffee cups and set them in the sink. She'll be in that bathroom for a good hour, at least.

Ever since last night, the incident with Cashmere has been playing in your mind. What was she hoping to accomplish? Surely she didn't actually think Rarity would sell the Boutique, did she? Why was she so...touchy-feely? What happened with them? You've come up with all sorts of theories in your head, but you want to hear it from Rarity herself. Maybe at breakfast. She might feel more comfortable with Fluttershy around.

You decide to pass the time by getting dressed and doing a little reading, a novel suggested by Twilight.

You wish they had TVs in Equestria.

==========

Haute Cuisine's turns out to be just as nice on the inside as you'd imagined. You've always thought of the place as a dinner destination, with dimly lit rooms and thirty-bit-per-glass wine, but it seems the exterior is open for breakfast, and you were getting pretty hungry by the time you left the Boutique. It could definitely be worse; Fluttershy has never been anything but kind and complimentary, and you look forward to seeing her again. Back when the three of you first met, a long time ago, Rarity told you that Fluttershy had been her best friend since before she even met Twilight, or any of the others. At least, met them formally. At first you didn't see how the shy, timid pegasus could have been the fussy unicorn's sole confidant, but it made sense once you thought about it. Fluttershy keeps Rarity's drama in check, and Rarity helps Fluttershy be a more assertive and straight-talking pony, without being boisterous like Dash. They match together well, and often spend time at Lotus and Aloe's spa doing...whatever it is mares do at the spa.

The restaurant is a popular spot, with ponies of every color and build waiting impatiently to get a seat. A few employees are busily running between tables or carrying out food on silver serving trays. Though you're easily a good foot taller than the tallest stallion here, no one gives you a second thought -- a sure sign that you've become just another member of the community, instead of a thing to be whispered and gossiped about. Good.

A tall, white earth pony with slicked-back, dark blue hair and a pencil-thin mustache is standing behind a podium, escorting people to their tables or telling them that they'll have to wait. You really hope Fluttershy made those reservations ahead of time, otherwise you're likely to be standing here for an hour.

"Yes? How I may help you, madame et monsieur?" A silver, covered serving platter adorns his flank and red bowtie-adorned white collar is around his neck.

"Good morning, sir." you reply with a nod of your head. "The lady and myself have reservations with a Miss Fluttershy. Do you know if she's arrived yet?" Rarity is practically beaming at your polite manner, her powder-blue eye shadow a sharp contrast to her black eyelashes. Part of her, you're sure, is just waiting for you to say something dumb so she can make fun of you for it.

"Hmmm..." the fancy pony lifts a cuffed hoof to his list. "Miss Fluttershy....ah, yes, here we are. My apologies, monsieur, I did not seat her myself. If you'll follow me, s'il vous plait."

You drop in behind the server, weaving through a crowded hallway that leads to the exterior seating. An orange unicorn telekinetically grabs a small quiche from a passing tray, only to have the waiter grab it out of the air without even turning his way.

"Please. If you're going to attempt to steal food, ruffian, then it would at least be wise to wait until I'm not staring at it, non?" The unicorn gives a weak "sorry" as you pass by. The waiter pony must deal with this sort of thing all the time.

The hallway opens up to an expansive seating area, bordered with an ornately decorated, white, wrought-iron fence that curves up at the tips. Strips of multi-colored flowers sit just outside of the fence, reds and blues and purples. It's all very nice, just as Rarity had said.

"I believe Miss Fluttershy is at the corner table," the waiter pony says in his thick accent, pointing a hoof, "please, sit wherever you like. Your waiter shall be along shortly to take your orders." He bows his head deeply. "Enjoy your meal, madame. Sir."

Fluttershy notices the two of you as the waiter (maitre d', rather) walks off. Her face is a mix of delight and nervousness, which is pretty much the same as you've seen her every other time. She'd certainly the most timid pony you've ever met, sometimes to the point of frustration. Back in your old life, people who were timid and nervous all the time grated on your nerves, and it's carried over to your new life in Equestria. To be fair, though, Fluttershy is so friendly and kind-hearted that you really can't bring yourself to stay annoyed. She's like...like a big plushy. You wonder if she'd make a squeaky-toy sound if you squeezed her too hard.

"Oh! Hello..." she hovers in the air for a moment to get your attention, a nervous smile crossing her face. Rarity's face lights up and she rushes over to wrap her friend in a hug.

"Fluttershy! It's so good to see you again, darling!" Rarity places a kiss on either cheek. "My word, it feels like it's been ages! You look wonderful!" She looks Fluttershy over once, peeking at her tail and mane. "And goodness me, your hair is impeccable! Aren't you just the most adorable thing!" Rarity squeezes her friend's cheeks between her hooves, poofing her face out as she squeals in delight.

"Um, thank you. It's very nice to see you, too, Rarity." The butter-yellow pegasus responds, a warm blush reddening her cheeks as a lock of pink hair falls in front of an eye. She looks over at you standing a few feet away, not wanting to intrude. "Hello again. It's good to see you as well." she says softly. "I wasn't really sure what kind of food you might like for breakfast, so I thought you might want to try something here. Um, you know, if you're okay with that. I'm sorry, I should have probably asked you first..."

You decide to step over and reassure her before she has a (likely adorable) nervous break-down.

"It's good to see you, too, Fluttershy." you tell her as she hovers over to you for a light hug, giving her a warm, reassuring smile. "I'm sure I'll love it, don't you worry. Rarity swears by the place, and you two probably know a lot more about Equestrian dining than I do." That seems to calm her nerves a bit, and she settles back down in her seat.

For the next half hour or so, you sit contentedly and make small-talk with the mares at your table. Your waiter brings your drinks early -- some sort of fancy, sparkling flavored water for Rarity, a juice cocktail for Fluttershy, and an iced tea with lemon for yourself. Mostly, Rarity and Fluttershy talk and laugh about the events of the last two weeks; they've been busy with their work, and haven't really had time to visit. Fluttershy nursed a pair of ferrets back to health, planted a row of medicinal herbs for the animals that are too small for actual veterinary medication, and had an incident where she nearly knocked her table over on Angel when Twilight teleported into her room in a panic. Turns out, she was just frantic about finding a lost book. Sounds like Twilight, alright.

Rarity talks about a client who was extremely picky about a gala dress (which you ended up helping with), and her fall fashion line being a minor, but important, hit in Stalliongrad. She doesn't mention anything from the previous night....you were hoping she would, so you could segue into your questions.

Your food arrives in the midst of conversation -- a salad of mixed greens, fresh flowers (none of which, you note, come from a bouquet) and a red-wine vinaigrette topped with chopped walnuts for Rarity. Minus the white-and-pink speckled flowers on top, it looks like any other salad you're used to. Fluttershy's plate is a simple quiche of spinach, some sort of cheese that reminds you of Feta, and egg.

What you really wanted to order was some freakin' meat. A giant omelet with bacon and ham. And a steak. TWO steaks. But, unfortunately, meat-eating is looked down upon by ponykind. You still have it once in a while, of course; there are restaurants on the edges of Ponyville that cater to traveling Gryphons, and they know how to cook a proper steak there. You've even bribed Spike to share some of his personal stock -- which is a whole other issue entirely, what with Twilight freaking out at the thought of Spike actually wanting to eat meat, him being a dragon with sharp teeth and all. It annoys you. Frequently. You've managed to adjust to a mostly vegetarian diet, but the idea of giving meat up entirely has never crossed your mind.

There's some gray areas with the morality of eggs, or recipes that call for them. You don't see anything wrong with using eggs, and indeed, you can't imagine how Pinkie would even manage to bake anything in that entire building without them. Most ponies seem fine with using eggs in cooking; from what you've heard, there's a very stringent process that ensures that all eggs that will be used are not fertilized.

No, as much as you wanted to order a pound of sausage wrapped in bacon, you decide to not freak everypony out and just order something that sounds like it may still be decent. You end up with a sandwich made with tomato-herb bread, the same kind of cheese as Fluttershy's quiche, tomato, cucumber, thinly-sliced peppers and a citrus-cilantro spread. It's a lot more...stuff...than you'd usually get in a sandwich, but it sounded decent.

Rarity's magic kicks in with a soft chiming sound, pulling a fork to her plate with practiced grace and taking a dainty bite. Fluttershy, not having the luxury of a magic horn, simply lifts the quiche between her hooves, smiling lightly at the taste.

Your sandwich is...surprisingly good, actually. You're not sure if it's any one particular thing, or a mix of ingredients, but the flavor just seems to burst in your mouth. Rarity notices your reaction and offers a confident "I told you so, dear." Yeah, okay, she wins this one. It is pretty good.

"So, um, do you have anything, you know, exciting planned for the day?" Fluttershy asks the both of you between bites. What, the lingerie store? Probably best not to mention that one at polite breakfast.

"Oh my, yes!" Rarity answers for you. "I have quite the list of errands to run after we're finished, I'm afraid. The joys and pratfalls of business, you know. Even on my days off, I find myself thinking of the Boutique. Honestly, Fluttershy, if it weren't for my wonderful stallion here....that is, metaphorical stallion, hehheh...I would be simply lost these days!" She reaches over and hugs your arm tightly.

"That's so nice," Fluttershy responds with a warm smile, "I'm glad you're happy, Rarity. And I'm glad you're happy as--" a length of hair falls in front of her face. She looks at it and blows it away with a puff. "--as well. I don't really like to talk about others in front of their acquaintances, especially my friends, but before you came along Rarity was a little, um...picky." She smiles nervously. Very nervously.

"Picky? Ya don't say. I mean, I could never imagine Rarity as picky!" Rarity gives you a playfully annoyed look.

"I am not picky, I simply have exacting tastes."

"She's picky. But yes, thank you for the compliment, Fluttershy. She's been here for me since the start, I couldn't have been more lucky. I love her more than life itself." Hmm. That line was cheesy enough to be in your sandwich. Rarity is nothing if not one for flattery, though, and she joyfully exclaims the same feelings for you.

"It feels good to have that very special somepony. Especially when times are trying." A quick kiss on the cheek drives the point home.

"Oh! I nearly forgot, Rarity -- I saw somepony you know a few days ago." Fluttershy interjects. You sit up a little straighter. This could be your chance. "I feel bad that I don't remember her name...the one with the red hair..."

Rarity glances at you. Her look says this is going to be interesting.

"Oh, yes, dear, that's....that's Cashmere."

"That's the name, thank you."

"Yes, we saw her last night, actually. She dropped by the Boutique. We were, ah, discussing business matters. I'm afraid there wasn't a lot of reminiscing going on. She's far less of a socialite and far more of a business mare, it seems." To say the least.

"I see...that's a shame, I know how close you two used to be." Well, no time like the present.

"So...um...if you two don't mind me asking -- especially you, hon, I don't want to pry -- what exactly happened between you and Cashmere?" Rarity sighs and sets down her fork.

"I suppose this was bound to come up sooner or later, wasn't it? I'm sorry I didn't openly divulge it to you previously, darling, but as I'm sure you can understand, it's a bit of a sensitive issue for me." You reassure her that she doesn't have to say anything if she doesn't want to, but she insists. She doesn't want there to be any secrets between the two of you.

"Well, where to begin...about six years ago now, maybe seven, I had just graduated school and I knew, from the moment I got out, what I wanted to do. And that was work in fashion. I've been doing this since before we met, obviously, so I'm sure you've always known me as the fashionista of Ponyville, but back when I'd first decided that it was to be my life's ambition, I didn't really have much of a means to get there. You see, my parents didn't have the money to help me open my own business. Sweetie Belle had been born just a year before, and all of their money was being spent on raising her."

"I had a similar experience, I joined the Army because my mom couldn't afford college, especially since she raised the four of us by herself" you tell the mares.

"Exactly, you know what it's like, hon. So, I took a job at a pre-existing fashion store. A store which, frankly, had a simply atrocious sense of style. Would you believe they actually marketed blue after the Summer Sun Celebration? Ridiculous! Why, if I were in charge at the time, there wouldn't have been a single shred of Everfree wool before Hearth's Warming Eve, nevermind the suicidal and mind-boggling commitment to passing fads! Socks, indeed. Of all the silly th--"

You clear your throat dramatically. "Uh, Rarity? You were talking about not having any money?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, heh heh...I do apologize, once I get started it's oftentimes hard to stop. But yes, as I was saying, I took the job there. It didn't pay very well, and I despised it immensely. The mare I worked for, a truly insufferable woman named Regal Cut, was always asking me to work without breaks, or work long hours. Dreadful place.

Then, a few weeks later, she hired on a new mare, every so slightly older than myself."

"Cashmere." You guess, though it's less of a guess than looking for confirmation.

"Yes. The same one you met last night, dear. It may sound hard to believe after the ridiculous showing she made in your presence, but she used to be a very agreeable pony. When she was hired on I was skeptical at first, but she turned out to be quick learner, and we had the shop running smoothly in no time. After that, the work load became somewhat more manageable. Probably helped that she also believed her true calling in life was in fashion."

"Hence her cutie mark." Fluttershy adds.

"Indeed. I'm sure you noticed it, darling." You open your mouth to say that you did, but you have second thoughts. That would mean that you were admitting to staring at another mare's flank. If not worded carefully...

"Oh come now, I know you had to have seen it. The bolt of purple fabric?" She laughs at your apprehension to admit that you did. "Please, darling, I'm not going to throw you from the nearest rooftop because you looked at her flank. She is a rather attractive one. But yes, I'm sure you saw it. Do you know why purple is significant?"

You shrug your shoulders.

"Purple is significant because of how rare it used to be. Back in the Second Age, before Ponyville was established, before Canterlot was even established, purple was the rarest of colors available. The only way to get proper dyes for it was to travel to the Swayback Mountains, on Equestria's border. Thus, only those who were truly well-to-do could afford it. Purple clothing, purple saddles, those were signs of wealth and prosperity. Elegance. Intelligence. Dignity. That sort of thing."

"So, basically," you add, "she believes herself to possess all of those things?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. Purple may not be rare now, but for those who understand its history, that cutie mark is a very impressive thing."

"It just sounds to me like she was born with a chip on her shoulder. Like Sweetie's school mate, Diamond something-or-other. Crown."

"Tiara" she corrects you. "Quite so. She believes she is pre-destined to great things, whereas ponies such as myself believe that great things come to those who work at them. The fact that she's become successful in her own right is only feeding her already impressive ego.

When she was at the shop with me, she was quite a bit more amiable. She and I spent time together outside of work, and we became friends in short order. Oh, the stories I could tell. For instance, we once had to chase down this little white rabbit who kept stealing into our store at night and taking bits of cloth. This went on for a few weeks, until we decided to wait inside the store to catch it ourselves. Sure enough, this little creature comes bounding in through a hole in the back, grabs a small roll of green cloth, and takes off as quickly as possible when it sees us! We followed it for a good ten minutes, and eventually it took refuge in a little cottage near the edge of the forest."

The wheels click into place in your head. There's only one cottage near the Everfree forest you can think of.

"That's when you met Fluttershy."

Fluttershy perks up at the mention of her name.

"Yes, that's when we met. It was very surprising." Fluttershy smiles at the memory. "Angel was just a little bouncing baby bunny back then, but he still liked to get into mischief. I had no idea he'd been taking things from the store Rarity and Cashmere worked at, and I felt just awful. I made him apologize and offered to give all of the fabric pieces back, but they said I could keep them. The three of us were friends not long after. Um, I don't usually make friends that fast...but there was something about them that I liked. They were friendly and nice and even Angel liked them after a while."

"Fluttershy has been my dearest friend ever since." Rarity quips, touching their hooves together. You can't help but smile at the story.

"Of course...that's not the end of the story, darling. I'm afraid things don't stay so rosy." Yeah, you figured as much. The twist was yet to come, after all.

"Cashmere and I stayed at that store for the better part of six months before we realized that we wanted to open our own store. A better store, with more agreeable styles and quality clothing. So, we started saving as much of our pay as possible, and looked into taking out a loan. Through scraping, saving, and begging, we managed to get enough money to finally do it. The Carousel Boutique was going to be ours! Oh my, you should have seen us when news arrived in the mail that we would be able to get out of that contemptible, two-bit fashion dump. I'd never felt so close to Cashmere before." How close is the question. It's been eating away at you for the better part of a day.

"We had the Boutique open and operational within a few months. Things were slow at first, of course. We realized that trying to design your own fashions when you have little to no practical experience is incredibly frustrating and stressful, but it paid off soon enough. Within a year, the old store we worked at was out of business, and the Boutique was the center of Ponyvillian fashion, just as it remains to this day."

You decide to ask her about Cashmere, figuring that Fluttershy already knows Rarity's life better than you do. She doesn't say anything for a few moments, obviously trying to figure out what to say.

"We...well, it's quite complicated to explain. I'm sure you noticed her flirtatious attitude with me last night. She's always been like that. For the first few months that I knew her she avoided any such entendres or advances, but as time went on she grew more comfortable. To be fair, I grew more comfortable around her as well, just not to the extent she apparently did."

"So she wasn't your...mare-friend? You weren't an item or anything?" You prod a little more, curiosity piqued.

"Heh...oh, dear, it's quite odd to talk about it, but...kind of. I must admit that I did, somewhere in the back of my mind, fancy her just a tiny bit. It's hard not to. The way she carries herself, the tone of her voice, the casual way she works flirtatious actions and words into her personality, it's all very...oh, what's the word...intriguing. For a short period of time, just a few weeks, I did see her as a potential suitor." She flushes red. "Goodness, I can't believe I'm even talking about this."

"It's okay, Rarity" Fluttershy offers, "it's not exactly unheard of. I mean, um, look at Ponyville. There's a lot more mares than stallions, and ponies have to find love somewhere. Lyra and Bon-Bon always seem happy, right?"

Your waiter comes by to pick up your empty plates and refill your drinks. He assures you that there is no rush, and you may leave when you're ready. Rarity takes a long drink from her sparkling water and licks her lips in thought.

"Like Fluttershy was saying, yes, it's not unheard of. I wouldn't have been ostracized or shunned by the community or anything, but I just never took that final step with her. On a few occasions, especially one night after a nice dinner, we did end up...heh, sorry...we ended up kissing near her home. And not just a peck of the cheek, you see. I think that night I was closer to becoming intimate with her than at any point before or since."

You try to picture Rarity making out, hot and heavy, with another mare. It's not an unpleasant thought.

"However," she continues, "the fact remains that I did not become intimate with her that night. She certainly tried to get me to see otherwise, nibbling on my ear and...I-I shouldn't go into details, but she tried very hard to convince me. Ahem. After I turned her down, she was never the same. She was obviously upset by it. I told her I still valued her as a very good friend, but she grew distant over time.

She ended up sticking around the Carousel Boutique for another two years, and eventually left to open her own business in Manehattan. The very same that tried to buy us out last night. She must be doing quite well for herself to even think of making such an...offer."

"Rarity, you didn't sell the Boutique, did you?" Fluttershy asks, her voice heavy with concern.

"Of course not! I would never consider such a thing, Fluttershy. The Boutique is my life! Why, it's not just my business and sole means of income, but my home! Our home. Not to mention Sweetie Belle's only place to stay when she comes to visit, and my source of inspiration, and...well, you get the idea. I could no more sell the Boutique than I could sell my own life away."

You knew she wasn't considering selling the night before, but it's comforting to hear it again, especially with such conviction. Still...you get the feeling Cashmere isn't done. You may not know her like Rarity, but it's obvious that her personality won't allow a simple 'no' to be the end of it. What if she comes back? You decide to voice your concern to Rarity, while you're still thinking about it. She's apparently had the same thoughts.

"Trust me, dear, I wish it really was so simple, but as long as I've known Cashmere, I've known her to be nothing if not persistent. I've no doubt she'll be around, but really, I don't don't see what she could hope to accomplish. I would have thought I made it perfectly clear how interested I was in her offer. I was rather serious about it, wasn't I?"

"You did kinda throw her into the mud. Or try to." you answer earnestly. Fluttershy gasps at the thought, voicing concern that Rarity shouldn't use her magic like that.

"I know, I know. I was just...so incensed with her complete disregard for my feelings, and those of my love, that I couldn't even think straight. Unfortunately, those feelings of anger caused me to lash out at the one closest to me, which should have never happened. I feel absolutely dreadful about it." You lean over and give her a reassuring hug, telling her it's okay, that everyone gets upset once in a while.

For her part, Fluttershy remains silent, not wanting to prod. She's always had a way with emotions and feelings, and you're sure she has a better grasp of what happened than she lets on.

"Thank you, dear. It was inexcusable on my part, even if you want to claim wrongdoing of your own. Had I not lost my composure...well, it's in the past now. I suppose I should be thankful that I have someone who truly loves me, hmmm?"

"I feel like we should be writing a letter to Princess Celestia" you quip. Fluttershy giggles politely at the idea, commenting on how cute of a couple you are together.

"Oh gimme a break already, you're gonna put me in a sugar coma!"

Wait. That voice. It sounds gruff, with a Bucklyn accent. Rarity and Fluttershy look at you with questioning eyes. It's gotta be...

"Well, what's the matter? Don't tell me ya don't recognize ya own pal!"

Pipe Wrench. A big smile crosses your face as you turn around in your seat. Sure enough, he's seated at the table behind you, sitting with his wife.

"Pipe! Oh man, I didn't see ya sittin' there! Must have passed you right up or somethin'. How long have you been here?" You give him a fist-to-hoof bump, giving a hello to his pretty wife, who looks to be gracefully aging, somewhere in her early 40s. She waves a pink hoof back at you.

"Me? Oh, shoot, I just got here. I was takin' the missus out to breakfast. Funny bumpin' into you guys." He leans in his chair and nods to the mares at your table. "Mornin', Miss Fluttershy. Miss Rarity." They return the greetings with polite smiles. "Say, you're lookin' quite fine this morning, Miss Rarity. What's a pretty mare like you doin' with an ugly schmuck like him, huh?" he says with a laugh as he nudges you with an elbow. His wife rolls her eyes and sighs, proclaiming that he hasn't changed a day since Talent School.

"Ahhh, come on, hon, ya know I'm just messin' with 'em."

"So what's up, Pipe? Anything new and exciting?"

"Nah, not really. Word is we got a big project comin' up soon, some place off Mane and Withers Street. Can you believe it? We was just in the area a few months ago, and now they're puttin' in another place? Big ol' thing, too. Ain't startin' for another couple 'a weeks, though."

Wonderful. You can already hear the pegasus foreman yelling about deadlines.

You figure that you might as well ask him if he's busy later, maybe he wants to get some drinks or play dice (you wish ponies played cards), but he apologizes and shakes his head.

"Sorry, bud, but I gotta spend the day with the old lady and her family. You know how it goes. Especially her mother." His wife gives him a dirty look behind his back. "Not that there's anything wrong with ya mother, dear! She's a great mare."

No she isn't, says an askew look in your direction. "Haul's outta town for a couple 'a days, too. Guess you're on ya own."

Well, great. More time twiddling your thumbs at home while Rarity's out.

You make small talk for a few minutes before everyone is ready to leave, good-byes exchanged all around. The bill comes out to nearly fifty Bits after tip, leaving your coin pouch significantly lighter than it was before. You definitely won't be making this place a daily stop, but it'll be nice for special occasions.

Fluttershy and Rarity are talking amongst themselves as you leave the restaurant, with you a few steps ahead to give them some privacy. Rarity laughs at an unheard joke so hard that she has to put a hoof over her mouth. Even though you don't see them very often, it's clear to see that her friends care deeply about each other. Maybe there is something to all this friendship and rainbows stuff.

"Well, I'm afraid this is where we part ways, Fluttershy." Rarity says as she wraps her friend in a big hug, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "It's been just wonderful seeing you again. Do be a dear and don't wait too long this time, hmm?"

"Oh, of course. I'll try..." Fluttershy lowers her head slightly and looks up at her friend. "I'm ever so sorry if I get busy, but, um, you know how it goes..."

"Of course I know, I understand completely. We'll have to get together soon, perhaps a visit to the spa? Ugh, it feels like it's been ages since I had a good treatment. I'll see if I can get my dearly betrothed here to go with us."

You're not so sure what you think of that idea. Spas are just so...girly.

"Relax, dear, it's nothing to worry about. A bit of an exfoliating facial couldn't hurt! Anyway, Fluttershy, my dear friend, I will see you soon! Do take care of yourself. And if you see Rainbow Dash, tell her I still need those Skyfire rubies she promised me, would you?"

"I will. Umm...take care of myself, that is. And tell Rainbow Dash. Both of those." she smiles her big, nervous smile again, no less adorable than the first time. It was very nice to see you," she looks up at you with those big, aqua eyes, "and thank you for breakfast, it was wonderful."

"You're quite welcome, Fluttershy. It was good seeing you as well." You lean down and give her a hug, her yellow wings wrapping around your shoulders before she flaps them once and folds them away. Rarity trots over to your side, both of you waving as Fluttershy turns around and happily trots off down Mane street, back to her cottage near the Everfree forest.

"I swear, that girl is like weaponized cuteness." you laugh, Rarity joining you with a polite one of her own.

"She is quite adorable, isn't she? I swear, darling, she could have any stallion she wants -- or mare, I am not one to judge -- if she were just a little more assertive. As is, she's been literally scared of her own shadow!"

It's a ten minute walk to the Boutique, giving you plenty of time to enjoy the cool breeze that carries the scent of last night's rainfall, streamers of sunlight bursting through the scattered clouds overhead. The Pegasi must have been busy this morning.

Along the way, Rarity thanks you for breakfast and expresses sympathy over Pipe's inability to join you later on. She offers to let you join her, but you politely decline, figuring that you'll find something to do for a few hours while she's gone. Maybe just walk Ponyville, or see what Twilight has available in her library, or...something. You're not entirely sure yet.

The streets are considerably quieter than when you left earlier on, all of the fillies and colts off at school (classes in Equestria, you've found out, are six days a week, but shorter days than schools you knew), and many mares and stallions at work.

You glance up at the big clock that sits atop the rebuilt Town Hall, having left your watch at home. About 10:30, according to the stylized minute and hour hands.

"You know, darling," Rarity says as she looks at the clock, running over her schedule in her head, "if I time everything right, I shouldn't have to start my errands for another half-hour or so..."

You feel a tug on your wrist and look down. Her shining, purple tail is snaking around your lower arm. You glance back up at her and she gives you a wry smile and a sideways glance.

"Maybe an hour if I skip one of the less-important ones."

An hour sounds good to you. Real good.

"Hmmhmm, I thought you might agree."

You practically run the rest of the way home.

==========

Thump-thump. Smack.

Thump-thump. Smack.

Bored. So bored.

Thump-thump. Smack.

Thump-thump. Smack.

Oh, sure. You'll be just fine. Alone. With nothing to keep you entertained. 'Go on ahead, honey. I'll find something to do'. In this case, 'something' turned out to be the incredibly exciting act of bouncing a red, star-decorated ball off the wall, over and over. Dash left it here a few weeks ago and hasn't come back to get it yet.

Thump-thump. Smack.

Thump-thump. Smack.

You toss the ball again, watching absent-mindedly as it bounces off the wall, then the floor, before coming back to your hand. You wish you had your Xbox. Or a TV. Or a computer. Most of all, you wish ponies had invented those things already. What the hell did people do before electronics? Ugh.

There's a clock ticking away in the kitchen. It sounds abnormally loud in the silence. You wish it would shut up. For the last hour you've been keeping yourself entertained, or rather, failing to do so. You paced back and forth for ten minutes. Then you shaved the long stubble on your face. Another fifteen. Ten more minutes as your mind was pre-occupied with thoughts of Rarity doing dirty, naughty things to other mares. Even that grew boring after a short time.

So, here you are. Laying back on the couch, bouncing a rubber ball off things. You wish you could fly. Or had magic. Yeah. Then you could use the wings you don't have and strap the guns that don't exist to your arms so you could be, like, a fighter plane or something. And then Rarity would be all like 'Oh, my, you single-handedly saved Equestria!' and then you'd totally have a threesome with her and Spitfire on a cloud. A cloud made of Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders. Heh.

Sadly, you don't have wings, your only firearm was lost in the incident long ago, and Spitfire probably isn't gonna make you an honorary wonderbolt on a cloud of writhing cheerleaders.

Sigh.

You kind of hope Pinkie Pie would burst through the door and sing you a song about smiling or cheering up or something. Figures. A very entertaining hour with Rarity goes by way too fast --and it was a very good hour -- but left to your own means...well, you never were very good at waiting. Patience is not one of your virtues.

With not much else to do, you make you way back to the bedroom upstairs, singing an old Bob Seger song out loud. Maybe you can do a little tidying up or something. Rarity loves that kinda thing.

"Seems like yesterday, but it was long ago"

The room is, admittedly, kind of a mess. Rarity makes the bed every morning -- she's very particular about hospital corners -- but your little jaunt after breakfast messed everything up. You could probably fix that. There's a small pile of clothes in the corner, the vast majority of them yours -- the only time she ever wears clothing is for special events, bad weather, or to add a little flair to the bedroom. You add it to your to-do list.

Your old, beat-up wallet sits on a corner of the dresser, tossed there months ago when you realized that your debit cards, cash, and various membership cards would not, in fact, be worth a damn here. It certainly wouldn't hold too many Bits. You sit down on the edge of the bed and open it up for memory's sake, flipping through the contents: A bank card you can no longer use, business cards from old jobs, warped and smudged from water damage, your military I.D, laminated photos of family. There's even a picture of an old girlfriend, way back before she sent you a "Dear John" letter. Hmmph. Some dedication she ended up showing.

You open the top drawer and jump back with a gasp, tripping over the bed as Opal springs out of the drawer with an annoyed screech.

"Jesus, Opal! You scared the shit outta me. Make some noise next time, won't you?" The cat looks contemptibly at you, stretches with a yawn, and walks off. You swear, that cat is absolutely intent on making as many enemies as possible. Too bad Rarity thinks Opal is the most adorable thing in the world, or you'd unceremoniously dump it in the woods and tell it to go find someone else's clothes to shred.

You fold the wallet back up and toss it in the corner of the drawer with a mutter, stuffing it behind a stack of socks. Socks that, to your endless amusement, Rarity only begrudgingly made for you because you assured her they weren't for a fashion statement.

The bed is made in short order, sheets pulled tight and blankets fluffed, just like she likes it. You laugh to yourself, remembering all the times you had to make that fucking bunk back in Basic Training, the endless times you'd come back from field training only to find it flipped upside down, or tossed into a corner, because you couldn't get the god damn hospital corners right. They always ended inside-out, somehow. Watts always made fun of you for that, calling your hospital corners 'bed vaginas'.

"God damnit, Private!" you yell in your best Drill Sergeant Mendoza voice as you look at your questionable bed skills, "Perhaps you'd like to fuckin' enlighten me as to why you can shoot straight, why you can operate a fuckin' gas mask, why you can work some complic-fuckin'-cated machinery, but SWEET MOTHER OF GOD you can't make a fuckin' bunk to save your life?!"

You never could get that damn thing looking right. Oh, and you couldn't run worth a damn. Running was tantamount to the worst torture imaginable. You'd rather be shot at. Again.

Giving up on making the bed just so, you dump a pile of clothes into a hamper, stopping for a moment when you see something sticking out from under the bed: a white, frilled saddle with small, hooked-together straps. A saddle not meant to be seen by anyone outside of the bedroom. Rarity would lose her mind if it was left on the floor. The thought makes you smile; saddles are meant to be formal attire for ponies, but certain styles, like the one you're holding, are basically the pony equivalent of corsets. And you always liked corsets. The fact that it provides a nice surface to grab on to when things get intimate is just an added bonus.

Being the caring man that you are (and having nothing else to do), you open up the bottom drawer of Rarity's dresser, looking for a place to put the saddle so she won't freak out when she finds it missing. There's a space just big enough for it, but something catches your eye as you set it in. A small box, roughly the size of a shoe box, is tucked into the corner. You're not sure you should be touching it, but curiosity wins over logic, and you pull the box out for a look.

Inside, there's a small collection of mementos, things from her past. An old picture of her as a filly, standing proudly beside a group of fillies dressed as...food items?...with their outfits covered in gleaming gemstones. There's a a chunk of rock, which turns out to be a geode as you flip it over. Compared to every other geode you've seen, this one is covered in multi-colored crystals.

Under the rock sits another photo of a taller, more gangly Rarity. A teenager, you think, if you remember Twilight's lessons on pony life cycles properly. The teenaged Rarity is standing next to her beaming father, her mother laying in a hospital bed, holding a newborn wrapped in a blanket. The pink-and-purple two-tone mane and tiny horn can only be Sweetie Belle. She's absolutely adorable.

A few bits and bobbles occupy the rest of the box, things that have no value to you, or that you simply don't recognize. At the very bottom of the box is one more picture, this one from not very long ago. An adult Rarity is beside another mare, a foreleg draped around her neck, in front of a big, purple banner that reads "GRAND OPENING".

Cashmere.

You set the box down and look at the picture more closely, flipping it over where a small note is scrawled in ink.

3E996, 17th of Summer's Song

Boutique is open!

You reach back through your Equestrian history knowledge to pinpoint the date. The Third Era was when Luna was banished to the moon and Celestia ruled alone, and Summer's Song is the equivalent of June, so that would put the date at just over seven years ago, since it's now the Fourth Era. Seven years ago, just like Rarity said.

They both look so happy, they're practically radiating joy. Rarity's parents and baby sister are in the background, as is another pony you guess to be Cashmere's mom. Their color is similar, anyway.

A smaller piece of paper sits under it, a folded-up newspaper article with the title "Elegant Expectations Buys Out Fashion Imporium, Becoming Manehattan's Largest Retailer". Elegant Expectations. Sounds like a name Cashmere would pick. You try to read the article, but the paper is crumpled and torn. Attached to it is a photo of Cashmere shaking hooves with an aging stallion in a fine tuxedo. Maybe the owner of the Imporium? Rarity must have kept them together, but from the damage it's obvious she wasn't very happy about it.

You stare at the photos for a long minute, trying to imagine what it must feel like to have your business partner, your best friend, even your potential lover betray you. A bigger picture starts to form in your mind, one of not just betrayal and regret, but of a profound sadness and longing. Rarity could have destroyed the pictures, could have thrown them away or locked them up to never be seen again. But she didn't. She held onto them so she could remember the happier times.

You wish she was here right now so you could wrap her in the biggest, most comforting hug imaginable. Tell her you didn't know she still cared so much.

It's become apparent that Cashmere is not going to just give up on taking Ponyville's market share, but you had no idea that it would end up being such a struggle. Poor Rarity, she must be torn between telling her off and wanting things to be like the old days.

You're not sure how it's all going to play out but, now more than ever, you're sure it's not going to be easy.