Awkward silences were difficult to talk about, difficult to break, and were frequently the leading cause to even more awkward silence, such as what existed between Sentinel and Diamond Tiara, who sat side by side at the dining room table once again, trying to figure out what to say and do after their rather soggy first kiss.

Turning his head, Sentinel caught a sideways glance of Diamond Tiara. Her face was still stained with tears. Her nostrils were crusty. At any moment, he figured that she was going to slip off and go to the bathroom to get cleaned up. Her mane stuck to the sides of her face and she was still breathing heavily. As he watched, she wiped her nose with her foreleg, leaving her fetlock shiny looking with snot. She was certainly a mess.

Trying not to look at Sentinel, Diamond Tiara tried to make sense of what had just happened. She felt light headed, confused, and entirely too warm in certain places, like her ears and her cheeks. Her mind kept recalling the sensation of being squeezed by Sentinel, the powerful crushing sensation that was so delightfully comforting somehow. The hug was somehow even more memorable than the kiss. It had been almost impossible to breathe, she had felt wonderfully light headed, as well as the most important aspect, while trapped in his iron embrace, she had felt as though nothing could touch her, nothing could harm her, and she was free to just let go. Her eyes darted nervously to the left and lingered for a moment on Sentinel’s dark rust coloured mane.

The silence was oppressive and neither could figure out how to overcome it.

Help came in the form of an overly cheerful green unicorn, who came bursting out of the kitchen bearing food, a plate full of cookies and fresh milk held aloft in her magic, which she promptly set down upon the table. Without further ado, she grabbed the snot encrusted earth pony filly in her magic and went to work scrubbing her off with a hot steaming towel, scrubbing her face first, ignoring her muffled protests and feeble attempts to escape. Once Diamond Tiara’s face was cleaned, Lyra wiped Diamond Tiara’s two front legs until they were clean enough for Lyra’s inspection, and then she smiled broadly at the pair.

“Both of you are so sweet together,” Lyra announced, grinning from ear to ear. She then turned and hurried away, practically bouncing with excitement, each step nearly bursting into a pronk as she retreated.

A second later, there was a bright flash from the archway leading into the dining room, and a very proud looking pegasus retreated into the kitchen holding a camera in her wings. Her laughter could be heard, a cheerful sound that was infectious, as other ponies in the kitchen began to laugh.

“Ugh,” Diamond Tiara grunted, covering her face with her hooves. “There goes our dignity.”

“At least mother Lyra scrubbed your face,” Sentinel whispered, finally having something to say. “You kissed me,” he accused in an even lower whisper.

Squirming in her seat, Diamond Tiara kept her hooves over her face. “You were so warm. It felt so nice… you were holding me. It was like my father holding me, but different. I felt… I felt…” the filly stammered, and then fell silent, her words trailing off into a shrill pre-adolescent squeak of shame.

“Thank you for the organiser and the agenda,” Sentinel said, trying to restore his aplomb while enduring the increasingly awkward moment. He cautiously reached out for one of the glasses of milk, hooked a wing around it, and pulled it close without spilling any. He pondered the plate of cookies, wanting one, but worried that it might be rude to take one before his guest did.

“You are a perfect gentlecolt,” Diamond Tiara murmured around her hooves, which were still over her face. She took a deep shuddering breath and felt a little better. After a moment, she allowed her front hooves to drop down to the table.

“I am sorry for my accusation,” Sentinel apologised, still eyeing a cookie. There was a peanut butter cookie sitting just under an oatmeal cookie. He felt a tiny flood of drool begin in his mouth, under his tongue, in the wet squishy places where drool happened. The peanut butter cookie was tantalising. It was alone, the only one of its kind, and it called to him.

Inhaling sharply, Diamond Tiara turned to look at Sentinel. “But you were right to make it. I need to be held accountable for my behaviour and taken to task. I slip up so easily if I stop paying attention for even one moment. It is so stressful always having to be on guard constantly.”

Turning to look at the earth pony filly beside him, Sentinel tore his eyes away from the peanut butter cookie on the plate just under the oatmeal cookie and looked at Diamond Tiara. Lyra had done a wonderful job of cleaning her up. He felt his heartbeat increase and he was suddenly aware of the blood flowing through the vessels in his throat. He could feel it, feel the pressure of it, feel the heat of it as he suddenly felt warmer. He leaned forward, towards Diamond Tiara, drawn in. He had made the mistake of looking into her wide shimmering eyes for just a moment too long, and he had fallen in. Now, he wanted to feel her softness again.

Just as his lips were about to brush up against hers, his chair, a treasonous object, tipped over from too much weight placed on one side. With a thump and a clatter, Sentinel and the chair went down to the floor.

The colt was up on his hooves a moment later, and the head of a cream coloured mare poked in. Seeing her colt was okay, she departed just as quickly as she appeared, and Sentinel’s ears burned when he heard her snickering.

And then, Diamond Tiara started to giggle as Sentinel stood his chair upright and climbed into it, once again sitting beside her. He sulked, sitting in his chair, all feelings of goodwill and good manners forgotten, and, feeling very foalish, he reached out and took the peanut butter cookie, snatching it between his thumb and central knuckle. He took one petulant nibble and chewed in sullen silence as Diamond Tiara tried to quiet her giggles.

“I’m sorry,” Diamond Tiara whispered. Ever so carefully, so as to not repeat Sentinel’s mistake, she leaned over, wrapped her forelegs around his neck, and kissed him softly on the cheek, the scent of peanut butter cookies clinging to her nostrils and forming a memory that she hoped would remind her of this moment forever. “This might be a terrible time to ask, but, I wanted to know, would you be my very special somepony?”

The mares all agreed that more photos were in order. The photo of Sentinel and Diamond Tiara together was priceless, and as they worked in the kitchen, the mares would pause to gush over the picture laying on the table.

“Well, we have lots of milk now,” Bon Bon said as she folded salt into a large bowl of butter, carefully blending it together with a rubber spatula.

“Do you think Diamond Tiara might be a little freaked out if she finds out where the milk we just gave her comes from?” Lyra inquired, her tone sheepish and worried. She was preparing garlic for the bin, pulling away stalks and green bits with her magic and tossing the bulbs into a large wooden container for storage.

“She might,” Derpy answered with a broad smile, her bad eye squeezed shut and her good eye focused on the picture. “But she’ll get over it. Foals are resilient.”

“Derpy’s milk weirds me out,” Lyra said. “It’s like a partially melted milkshake.”

“Pegasus milk is thicker and creamier. It also doesn’t freeze at high altitudes or low temperatures,” Derpy responded, her tone cheerful.

“It also makes sticks of butter you could build a house with,” Bon Bon muttered. “I swear, it’s like hard cheese. You could run Derpy’s butter over a cheese grater and have little butter shreds.”

“Not fair,” Lyra groused as she tossed more garlic into the bin.

“Motherhood is more than the thickness of your milk,” Bon Bon said reassuringly, patting Lyra as she took a break from her task. Bon Bon heaved a sigh and thought about the feeling of Harper nursing, the warm glow she felt, and the tingly sensations that caused her so much happiness, and she regretted not doing this sooner.

“Or how much milk you can produce. Berry Punch has us all beat. I feel inadequate,” Derpy grumbled, her wings fluttering as she spoke. “I don’t know how she does it, but she can fill a bucket like no other mare can. All alone she can produce more milk than Bon Bon and I can make together. And a few hours later, she has more.”

“She’s gifted,” Bon Bon agreed. “Our foals will never know hunger with Berry around.” The mare felt a shiver run up and down her spine, the memory of Bucky milking her fresh in her memory. She took a deep breath and composed herself before going back to salting the butter.

“Thinking of Bucky?” Derpy asked, leaning closer to Bon Bon and perking her ears forward.

“How could you tell?” Bon Bon gasped.

“Because. I’m a pegasus. Observation powers. And every mare that Bucky touches makes a certain face when she thinks of him. Thistle does it, Berry does it, I have no doubt that I do it, and I just saw you do it,” Derpy explained in reply.

“So we have the ‘Bucky face phenomenon’ do we?” Lyra inquired. She turned towards Derpy and raised an eyebrow. “Have I made this face?”

“Lyra, I want you to think for a moment about the times when you’ve been scared, frightened, and then think about how Bucky held you. Think about how your body felt pressed up against his. Or think about how he has kissed you… ah, there we go,” Derpy said as she watched Lyra trembling in her chair, the unicorn mare’s eyes narrowing, the flared nostrils, and the sharp intake of breath.

“He is becoming a bit too good as a kisser,” Bon Bon remarked, thinking of the smouldering smooch she shared with Bucky earlier. She felt heat blossoming in her belly, spreading upwards into her barrel, into her throat, and finally the heat radiated from her cheeks. She felt like a school filly again and was unable to stifle a giggle.

“He gets too much practice,” Derpy replied. “He’s clever. He studies each of us and knows just which buttons to push when he has his way with us. Not that I’m complaining.” The grey pegasus rested her head upon one hoof, her elbow propped up on the table.

“Sentinel is getting a bit of practice lately as a kisser,” Lyra said, her face looking sad and happy at the same time as she spoke, her eyes wide and full of barely contained emotion.

“Think he’ll keep Diamond Tiara on a straight and narrow path?” Bon Bon questioned, her eyes darting from Derpy to Lyra. “I worry about her. She’s trying, don’t get me wrong, but I have a bit of fear about her leading Dinky and Piña into trouble.”

“To be completely honest I am more concerned about Dinky and Piña leading Diamond Tiara into trouble. Both of them are still a little unsettled from the isles. They know things that foals shouldn’t know. It’s changed them, done something to them. I am trusting Sentinel to keep all of them on the straight and narrow. And Ripple. I don’t know what I’d do without Ripple. Ripple keeps the girls leveled off and she acts as my eyes. My little fillies have no idea that Ripple keeps me informed of their plotting,” Derpy said, sighing once she finished. She slumped in her chair, her forelegs resting upon the kitchen table.

“Dinky and Piña are still good… Dinky is a little prankish, but she is leveling out. Piña seems to be at that awkward in between place where she isn’t a little foal anymore, but she doesn’t seem to know what comes next as far as maturity goes. I am betting that she is at the age where her toys don’t talk to her as much anymore and all of the stories in her mind about their adventures are fading, being replaced by her own adventures,” Bon Bon said, her voice wistful, her gaze distant and focused on some non existent spot upon the wall.

“Gosh that’s depressing Bonnie,” Lyra groaned.

“I remember when my toys stopped being fun,” Derpy said. “Poor Sentinel. I don’t think he’s ever even had a toy, much less had a toy talk to him in his imagination, or gotten lost in a world of pretend.” The grey mare drooped, slumping down into her chair even more. “That’s really depressing.”

Reaching across the table, her fetlock folded, Bon Bon brushed the soft edge of her bent leg along Derpy’s cheek, wiping a tear away. “Cheer up, we gave him a better life, that counts for something.”

Author's Notes:

A wild chapter appears!

It uses D'aw!

A wild typo appears!