Six months. Wow. Can’t believe it’s been six months since I saw another human. My God, time flies when you’re having fun. Especially after today. A part of me wishes that it was a nothing day, that it could have just been something casual and normal which made me say it, but it wasn’t. It had been wonderful.

We’d just been walking along, chatting about this and that, hard to remember what exactly, and all of a sudden we passed by the front entrance to Le Apetit, one of those super-fancy Prench places that only snooty ponies with more money than taste in real food go. We would’ve walked right past it, would’ve just gone right on by on our business, if the maître d hadn’t walked outside just as we were passing and then stuck his snout up. I can’t be sure, but I think he called me a monkey when our backs were turned, and even had a little, less savory name to toss at the back of Dashie’s head.

We both got a little quiet as we walked along. Dash had this far-off, thoughtful look in her eyes. We talked some more, but we didn’t have that same candid, uncaring tone we’d had before walking past that little prick’s snooty-ass restaurant. Finally, that old fire I’d fallen in love with a thousand times over ignited in her eyes. “Hey, sweets?” She asked.

“Yes, my little hotflank?”

Grinning at my nickname for her, she replied: “Let’s trash that place.”

Turns out, being close personal friends with the Princess of Friendship has its perks, one of those being that restaurant managers will do everything short of magically jerking you off through the phone line the moment you drop Twilight’s name. Of course, there were some awkward questions about whether or not I needed to be kept on a leash, but Dash politely informed him that we weren’t “into” that, and even if we were we certainly wouldn’t be strutting around in public like that. So that night, I pulled on some threads courtesy of Miss Rarity’s Boutique, and Dash yanked out her old dress from the Grand Galloping Gala, and we both set off on our mission. The only warning we gave for what was coming was before the meal, when we told the maître d we were expecting some friends and might need a rather large table. He smiled and nodded and made no mention of monkeys, though I swear I saw his snout wrinkle in distaste more than once when his eyes glided over to me. We had our meal with the best of manners and the utmost of elegance, holding our tempers whenever some rich bitch looked our way and whispered “hairless beast.” Shit was so fancy I’m disappointed in myself for not bringing a monocle.

Then, halfway through the evening, a distant rumble sounded. All at once, the front door was mobbed by Dash’s friends from the cattle community a few miles outside Cloudsdale, all dressed as various dairy products and all chanting “CAL-CI-UM! CAL-CI-UM!” at the top of their lungs. A particularly large heifer dressed like a cup of Yoplait accidentally crashed right through the maitre d’s podium.

The entire restaurant went from “quiet nobility” to “mosh pit at a Slayer concert” in less time than it took Dash to pull off a double-loop-de-loop. A mob of cows dressed as various cheeses descended upon the bar and ordered “enough chocolate malted to make us all sneeze that powdery stuff out our noses,” and smashed up the entire display case when the bartender couldn’t produce even one shaker. Me and Dashie barged out the fire exit after the maître d got sat on by a cow dressed like a Hershey kiss, both of us laughing our asses off.

She took us up to a cloud and we sat there, the moon just above, still cracking up, when it hit me how damned beautiful she was. She’s just laughing her laugh, still wearing her gala getup, and the moon was just overhead, and when she looked over at me with her eyes still sparkling and the moonlight shining off her mane, all of a sudden there was only one thing I could say.

“I love you.”

She stopped laughing immediately and looked at me, stunned. Just to make sure I drove it home, I repeated myself. “Rainbow Dash, I love you.”

She fell right off the cloud, and I was immediately after without her cloud-walking magic. When she saved us both and landed us right on a hillside, the first thing she did was grab me, pull me into a big, long kiss that lasted a solid minute, then cuddle close into my chest and whisper: “I love you too.”

Best night of my life, hands down.

Author's Notes:

I'm proud of this one. It's based on an actual incident I read about on Funsubstance, with a bunch of people in banana suits going "POTASSIUM! POTASSIUM! POTASSIUM!"