Two knocks at your door. You pull your stir-fry dinner off the burner and set it aside. Two knocks? Two knocks. What the hell? What is going on today?

First, there was Fluttershy's weirdness last night. Then, this morning, her disturbing fetish. And then... two knocks on your front door. You move to a nearby window in your kitchen and peek outside. Standing outside your door is a familiar white pony, with a pink hair bun and ice blue eyes. A pang of fear juts in your stomach.

What happened? What the actual fuck happened? You jog to the door and throw it open. Redheart sighs happily and speaks.

"Oh thank goodness I found the right one," she says. "This was my third house I tried."

"Really?" you ask. "Well, I suppose you've never been here before. So, it makes sense."

"I had a really bad day," she says, exasperated. "I know it's short notice, and we just had a date yesterday, and it's all really dumb and stupid but, do you wanna have dinner tonight? I could really use the chance to unwind."

Your hairs stand on end. Terror fills your soul. You take a deep breath and let it out, trying to keep your composure.

"Sure," you answer, stepping aside. "Come on in."

Redheart steps into your home, and you close the door behind her.

"So what happened today?" you ask fearfully.

"It was the strangest thing," she says. "This pony came in with her legs cut off. Plus, she had them on ICE. I mean, it's like it was planned. Her stumps were sewn and bandaged correctly. The legs were perfectly preserved. With a little bit of unicorn magic, she was able to walk out of the hospital in an hour with no pain."

You exhale a breath of relief. Moreover, a part of you isn't sure why you're relieved.

"Well, that's good. Isn't it?"

Redheart looks at you incredulously.

"A pony cut her legs off to have them put on. How is any part of that good?"

You shrug your shoulders.

"Maybe she was trying to get a leg up on life?"

Redheart stares at you, dumbfounded. Then, she looks away, her composure wavering. Then she cracks into a loud guffaw of laughter.

"Oh... That. That was what I needed," she says, wiping away a tear of laughter.

You sigh in relief once more.

"I thought that joke was terrible."

"It was. But if you can't learn to disconnect yourself from medical, you can't survive in it for long," the nurse says with a smile. "You have to find SOME humor in it at times. That's how you can tell what nurses will stick around."

You smile, grabbing your cell phone.

"Hey. Why don't I order a pizza, and we can turn on a movie or something?" you ask. "My treat."

Redheart nods and smiles.

"Sounds good to me, can I pick the movie?" she asks.

"Sure, they're all on that shelf over there," you say, waiving to your collection.

With a four cheese pizza on it's way, a bottle of cheap wine opened, and your thirteenth viewing of "One-Way Ticket"- A romantic comedy about a couple falling in love on a trip to a new city- you've found yourself calm and at ease.

Nurse Redheart sits beside you on the couch, curled up against you. She's let her mane down, took off her nurse hat, and watches the movie intently. You can feel the warmth of her body press against you, and you have your left arm draped around her back. With a smile, you can't help but feel that things are good. Like this is the way things should be. Life is good, and you wouldn't mind if things could go on like this for... who knows how long.

A knock at the door grabs your attention.

"Must be the food. One sec," you say as you pause the movie.

Rising to your feet, you head to the door, pulling out your wallet. You open the door.

"10 bits please," says the delivery mare as you are digging into your wallet.

"Alright, then 12 bits," you say, counting them out and raising your eyes to-

Fluttershy. Wearing a full pizza delivery outfit.

"Is video tape and consensual rape your fetish?" she asks quietly.

You stare at her, bitterness welling in your throat.

"Is everything alright, Anon?" Redheart asks, leaning towards the door.

Redheart can't see Fluttershy thanks to the door being open. You hand the money over to her.

"No," you whisper, taking the pizza.

Closing the door, you turn back to Redheart, who sips her glass of wine.

"Yeah, it's all good. Had to make sure I tipped."

"Well, look who's coming up to meet social standards," Redheart teases.

"What can I say?" you say, setting the pie down on the coffee table and sitting beside her. "I'm a pizza-trash."

"That was bad, even for you."

"Nah. I'm all good."

Redheart giggles as she turns the movie back on, failing to see the cyan eyes peering in through the window.