Twilight suggested it, and rationalized it. We should go because we were the ones who found justice for their families, or something similarly oddly-phrased and clumsy. It's just politic, she said, and Pinkie couldn't remember what she meant by that.

None of them really found her speech to hold water, but they went along anyway, possibly because one of the six Elements showing at a funeral seemed improper. They all went along with Twilight, on an early spring afternoon, and they all sat in the back. None of them found the courage to speak, much or at all, and nopony seemed to mind. They paid their respects and left.

That was when Fluttershy and Applejack were still together. Pinkie remembered they left more quickly than anypony but she still passed them on the way back to Sugarcube Corner. They were talking softly by the side of the road, and nopony knew then how quietly they could argue.

It was less than a week before they ended it, calling it 'premature', 'unfounded', and all other kinds of words that just meant 'we ran out of things to talk about'.

It was a mix of emotions for Pinkie. She remembered one morning, just after waking up, thinking that maybe Fluttershy was unsatisfied, and she could use this opportunity for herself. But then she was disgusted, and told herself off the top of her head that she was still attached to Applejack and there was something there that they just couldn't sort out and there was nothing she could do.

She invented that excuse as a bandage, to cull her energetic thoughts. And worse, over time, she came to believe it was true.

Noon came and went.

Pinkie didn't really notice, honestly. It hadn't slipped her mind, but she decided to stop watching the teapot and got to work around the new space. In an hour or two she was done. All she needed now was some furniture. Considering where she was, she could probably pick it all up down the street for twenty bits. Import capital of the world.

Speaking of teapots, that was ready. She poured a cup and leaned against the counter, drinking it little by little and closing her eyes, the extent of just how tired she was hitting her like a... a boat. Import capital of the world.

Then it dawned on her that she didn't eat lunch. And that it was about dinner. And that -

"Oh."

The sound was dull and pale in the undecorated apartment. She turned and looked out the window, the back one, to the grimy, dark alleyway, and sighed. That familiar flurry of thoughts flowed through her - Maybe she couldn't make it here in time for her lunch break. Maybe she forgot. Maybe she... She stopped herself, and sighed, looking down into the teacup. Maybe she just didn't care like she said she did.

And then that venomous, hateful, false thought. Maybe she ruined it. Of course, she blew it off because it was all of the above things, but it planted what it wanted to and left quietly, letting the seed germinate.

"I'm so sorry, I missed the date." The script started, under her breath. "Oh, it's fine. Come on in. Thanks. I know you probably don't remember it, but I said I l..."

She stopped herself, her eyes never moving from the teacup. "... Ugh. It's fine. She's late. Caught up at w-"

There was a couple staccato knocks on the door.

She set her cup down and felt the urges of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, even though she knew she should likely be a bit angry by that point. Yeah, why wouldn't she come straight after work? That was rude, right? Well, it didn't matter in the grand scheme. She was there then.

Unless it's the guys who said they'd show me around tomorrow, she thought as she opened the door.

It wasn't. Guess-who was there, still in her bright green work sweater and the saddlebags she'd left with in the morning. A nervous silk of pink hair fell over her face, and she was looking away, her vision dragged suddenly back upwards as the door revealed her. "I'm really sorry I didn't -" she began.

Pinkie wouldn't let her. "Don't worry about it," she interrupted with a giggle. "I forgot too."

"I just - I couldn't make it back for lunch so I thought about this time would be fine, uh, if you weren't already out," she managed, moving her mane just a bit out of her eyes. "I can show you around to my favorite, um, restaurants. And we can just kind of go from there. If you want."

"That sounds cool," Pinkie said, leaning a bit closer for a kiss.

She felt a light pressure against her chest, holding her back. Fluttershy's lips were parted just a bit, and she'd looked away again. "... I also want to talk about that."

She felt her heartbeat against Fluttershy's hoof, and could swear she felt it slow down a bit. That smile returned, but wry, bitter, because she figured but ignored herself when it was important. "I guessed this would happen," she murmured, shaking her head and looking out to the street, the strollers who weren't in for supper the only things really moving in the rose-tinted landscape.

"Pinkie, don't take it the -"

"I'm - I'm not, okay?" she said, holding up a hoof and turning back. "I'm not taking it the wrong way. You thought about it and you're confused, right?"

Her gaze fell, and her eye disappeared behind her mane again. She didn't respond.

She sighed, the smile turning into guarded contempt. "It can't just be easy."

"Well," Fluttershy began quietly, her voice carrying a level of defensiveness, "I have to make sure this time."

Pinkie's resentment fell away, fraction by fraction. "... I know. Let's just - let's just go out and we can talk when we're, you know, better for it."

Fluttershy nodded slowly, her eyes still fixed on the porch below. "I'm sorry," she replied, in a near-whisper, and brought her hoof around to the back of her neck to pull her into a short, shallow hug.

She smiled regardless, realizing that she was still in love one way or another.

It didn't appear to want to stand out against the patchwork cityscape - grays, dim greens, watery blues, and clean white sans reading the alphonse bistro in constant art-nouveau lowercase. Its large windows were framed by unfinished concrete and it was only barely lit inside - at least, that's how it seemed.

"It's probably in my top ten places," Fluttershy had said as they approached it, "and I wanted to go here specifically because it's quiet. Private."

As they were seated, Pinkie could feel it was true. Each booth was divided from the surrounding booths by decorative screens and carved wood palettes, boxing them into a personal square. She looked around, but not for long - her attention was magnetized to Fluttershy.

"So what's new where you work?" she began, quieting her voice as she realized how easily sound carried in the circumstances.

"Oh," Fluttershy replied, clearly taken a bit aback by small talk. "Not - not too much. I can throw buzzwords at you all day, you know, industrialization and magically modified chemicals and such, but they don't mean too much." She paused, picking up a menu. "All we really are is a conservation effort."

"I noticed the weird plants in your apartment."

"Heh, yeah," she said, passing the menu over. The items were familiar, but usually followed by some loanword for a kind of sauce or something foreign. Like 'daisy sandwich dovernaun'. What's a dovernaun, and how do you pronounce that? She snapped to attention as Fluttershy began again: "What do you want to do?"

"I got an interview tomorrow downtown. It's kinda far away, but it's a bakery, so I think I'm pretty good for it." How about just a soup, that can't get too weird. "I mean, I want to make my own eventually, but that means licenses and taxes and stuff, and I need to take my time with it."

"That sounds really awesome, Pinkie."

"Thanks."

There wasn't too much conversation outside of that for a while, as their drinks came and as Pinkie attempted to order (with a lot of giggling from across the table). It was more of a back-and-forth as friends, best friends, then it was as a couple. But it got there eventually.

"I've wanted to ask," Pinkie started as there was a lull, "do you think... do you think you still love AJ?"

Fluttershy had pulled back a bit as the topic was found, and at this she stared solidly at her glass and inhaled with a bit of a shudder.

Perhaps it was too much at once. "You don't have to answer."

"I don't know," she replied quietly. "I don't know at all."

"... You know," Pinkie tried again, "I don't want to put you on the spot, or, um, make you uncomfortable, but you - you did say that to me." Another period of silence, disconcerting and strong. "Did it-" She lost her train of thought, her mouth moving for a moment as she searched for the words. "Did it count?"

Fluttershy's eyes, made into a gold by the bright red lighting from the lamps nearby and the cool white lighting from the windows in the front, darted back to her own, and she stared for a moment. A heat bubbled up inside Pinkie, from her tail to her ears, probably making her blush, just a little.

"I still don't really know," she said finally, hesitantly. "I'm sorry." She looked down again, putting her head in her hooves. "I think it may have been the moment."

"But - but it was a fun moment, wasn't it?" she asked, trying desperately not to let worry show in her voice. "We sort of just let go, and did what we wanted to. And... and we can do that again. Unless you really - don't - d-don't think that I'd be good to you. I would, you know," she added awkwardly, shifting in her seat.

"I think you would," Fluttershy admitted to the table. "I just..."

"Just what?"

"I just don't want to go through it again."

Pinkie swallowed, and tapped her glass once or twice unconsciously. That odd emotion returned, the one that felt like anger but wasn't, not at its core. It pushed against the back of her brain, and she clenched her teeth.

Ultimately, she couldn't stop it. "You know what? Fluttershy," she said, sharply, and Fluttershy picked up her head, confused and probably shocked. She scowled and closed her eyes, angry more at herself than anything. "You - you know what I think about you. I don't need to say it again. I'm not going to sit back and let you pretend that I would ever hurt you." She tapped a hoof on the table for emphasis, percussing each part of her sentence as she felt it rise from her stomach.

She sighed, and looked at the light above for a moment before staring back at Fluttershy. "If you don't feel the same about me, I c-can't change that, but don't think for a second that we can't be together because - because I would be bad for you."

Fluttershy glanced away to the left, blinking, and back to the right, and up, and back to Pinkie, and covered her face in her hooves again. She sounded like she was trying to respond, but couldn't.

Suddenly, Pinkie felt a backlash, like the passionate fire in her mind was extinguished. "I didn't... mean to get so intense. But," she said, inhaling deeply, "I stand by what I - what I said."

"It's not that simple."

"Why not?" Pinkie asked, as calmly as she could.

"I think... I still love Applejack," she began, and Pinkie's passionate fire was reduced to ashes and kicked away. "But I still love you, too," she said, almost in a whisper, and glanced up, before returning to her hooves.

She sat back against the cool cloth seat, feeling deflated. The stream of emotions that had overflowed a minute ago was reduced to a thin line of why and love and of course. There really wasn't anything she could do. There was a chance she had, and it was blocked by a huge brick wall.

"So," Fluttershy began, the word rippling the silence like a raindrop on a lake. She spoke delicately, and piece by piece. "Here's what we'll do. We'll go about this logically."

"But... but it's romance and stuff. How?"

"I'm going to tell you." She looked up at her, finally, full-on. "For the time being, we can... date, really. We can do the couples things. But," she added, clearing her throat, "if, perchance, there's a way that Applejack and I can start over, you have to be really open to it."

Her mouth was dry. "Uh..."

"I'll be taking a chance with you, and if I can, I want to give the same chance to her. You - you can't be upset, Pinkie. Please. I couldn't stand it." She'd looked away again, worry clear on her face.

Pinkie took a drink from her glass, and stared at her for a moment, wondering. Celestia, she was beautiful. Kind eyes, full of life. Applejack shouldn't have her came the thought, and she swatted it out of existence. "... I won't be upset."

She extended a hoof across the table, and after a moment, Fluttershy took it, no smile, no real emotion on her face outside of deep thought. Pinkie smiled, though, broadly and naturally, and shifted her hoof a bit, stroking hers softly. And then came a smile, a bit hidden behind her mane.

"I'm glad," she murmured.

They finished late. The stars were dull in the sky against the industrial light from below, and as they stepped into the thin night crowd, Pinkie couldn't take her eyes off Fluttershy, or take the smile off her face.

It was a short, nearly silent walk to Fluttershy's apartment. They reached the top of the steps and Fluttershy unlocked the door, motioning inside a little with her head.

Pinkie gave a small grin. "Thanks," she said, a question-mark inflection at the end of the word.

"Well, you don't have a bed yet, right?" she asked, shrugging.

"Yeah, but..."

Fluttershy guided her in with a hoof and followed closely, closing the door after her. In a moment, she'd brought her in with a hoof for a long, gentle kiss.

Yet again, Pinkie felt a fluttering sigh move through her. It was always as amazing as it was the first time. She was gentle, loose, caring, warm, close. They pulled apart, just for a moment, and went back to it, wordlessly.

It took a few seconds before Pinkie got a sentence out. "I'm not the best at this, am I?" she asked, followed by a little giggle.

Fluttershy giggled in reply. "Honestly? Not that bad," she whispered, and moved Pinkie along with her up the stairs nearby.

"Hm? What?"

"I was going to - I was going to make this joke earlier, but it seemed stupid."

Pinkie pulled away, following her up the stairs closely and laughing. "What was it?"

"I was going to say, if you don't have a bed, why... no, it's stupid."

"Why not share yours?" Pinkie asked, nuzzling her neck firmly and kissing her again.

"Basically," Fluttershy giggled, and pushed her into the room in front of her. "It's that one."

"Yup." Another kiss, and another. "Wow."

"What?"

"You're anxious."

Fluttershy stopped for a second, with an almost-laugh. Half a laugh. "I don't know what I'm doing. Sorry."

"No, it's awesome," Pinkie said quickly, and lifted her gently but firmly to her back legs against the bedpost, wrapping her hooves around her. "I told you it was fun."

"... It is," she agreed momentarily, grasping at Pinkie's back. "There's a reason I like you."

Pinkie giggled again. They were just happening one after another, over and over. It was better than the first time, by far. "See? It doesn't have to be complicated. Maybe you just have a thing for Earth ponies."

They laughed for a bit, but it didn't last long.

"I don't think I've been happier," Pinkie would breathe later into the night, as they were settling down, a sheet draped loosely over the both of them wrapped tightly together. Back to the cheese and showmanship.

Fluttershy held her tighter, as Pinkie rather expected. She didn't say anything, but Pinkie felt the response. There was love, there was a chance. And she fell asleep with thoughts of a flowery future drifting hazily in her mind.

Author's Notes:

You all thought I would forget about Squeecember.
Well guess what.