With a final stroke of the pen, Fredrick completed the form as requested and bestowed the full authorization of the crown to continue with the enclosed, proposed project. With that, he gingerly set his quill to the side and reclined back in his chair, taking a few seconds to stretch his arms over his head.

The sleeves of his pristine white dress-shirt rode up his arms, but he soon slackened his posture back to normal. His tie needed a little bit of tightening too, so he took care of that as well. Fred wiped some dust that had accumulated in odd places on his desk before checking his inbox, finding only a couple more proposals to look at.

Seeing as he had been productive the entire day thus far, he figured he could take just a little time to space out. The grandfather clock against the right-most wall of the Solar Bureau ticked along rhythmically as the minute-hand quietly struck half-way past eight.

Fredrick glanced a bit over to the left and found his current employer, Princess Celestia, sitting at her own desk and working on things of her own. Since today was not a court day, she forewent the majority of her princess-ly regalia as well as her more formal dress, garbed instead in a cognac-colored suit that fit her form wonderfully.

Her tiara remained dutifully atop of her head, and her face shone of silent determination. Her paperwork had been piling up after the last few days of court, and she was determined to catch up.

She, too, gave those lavender eyes of hers a little rest and sat upright, exchanging a look with Fred. She lent him one of her usual smiles, not of the motherly nature… but one reserved more for a friend, as well as tossing in an extra sheepish glance for good measure.

“Sorry for the late night, Fredrick,” Celestia said, craning her neck to stretch it out. “We’re almost done here, but thank you very much for your help. Sincerely,” she added, having genuinely felt bad for the last couple hours for doing just that.

Fred, however, only shrugged. Quite the lot less than peeved, he made his indifference known.

“Hey, it’s what you pay me for, so…” he said nonchalantly. “Besides, you’re my friend. And I don’t have anywhere to be until a little later, anyway, so it’s not like you’re keeping me.”

Celestia mulled over his words while picking up her quill and setting back to work. Fredrick decided it would be appropriate to do the same. So, after one hand through his neatly combed, parted hair, he set off back to work.

“Very well, but still.” the Solar Princess expressed. “I hate late nights as much as anypony.”

The pause in conversation got Fredrick to reflect upon his current position in his—dare he say—new life. Admittedly, the first few weeks were more difficult than he could possibly imagine, and Fred lost count of the hours he spent sulking in his room. He had profusely thanked Celestia and Luna for ensuring that he had some company and stuff to do, which is actually how he landed where he was sitting right this moment.

His pride (as well as fear of side-effects of depressive complacency) refused to allow him to sit on his ass for any longer and just exist.

So, Celestia offered him a job as a royal and administrative assistant.

And, it was just what the doctor ordered. Falling into the routine of an actual job like he had back on Earth—while it did not cure him of longing thoughts of his previous life—did well to help him maintain a calm and steady mind. It was a win for both parties, in actuality. Celestia did need someone to put up with her and make her life slightly less difficult when it came to administrative duties, and Fred got paid for something he was good at.

Such duties included him tailing Celestia wherever she went, helping her with the aforementioned, insurmountable paperwork, and acting as her authority by proxy should it be required.

In fact, he managed to have a lot of fun these past months.

While much of that was owed to Celestia and Luna, he owed plenty of it to a certain batpony, Stella.

Fredrick signed off on another document as a pleasant smile graced his features, all over said thestral mare that had become his closest friend thus far.

“So what’re your plans for the evening?” Celestia asked, her gaze not leaving the official scroll she was scanning.

“Probably go back to my room and do nothing,” Fred replied.

Celestia raised an eyebrow in his direction.

“I thought you said you were doing something later?” she asked to clarify.

Fred met her questioning gaze with his own cheeky one.

“That was my plan: do nothing. I’ll be busy doing just that. Unless, of course, Stella forcefully drags me away from my sanctuary,” he elaborated.

He uttered those last few words with faux-hopelessness, because he knew for a fact that Stella would probably do that… Not that he minded, though.

Celestia giggled into her hand.

“That sounds like her, actually. If only I had somepony with her gall in my ranks,” she mused, then promptly continued.

“According to Luna, she just got promoted, too. Perhaps she’ll make Captain of the Lunar Guard one day.”

Fredrick shuddered playfully at the idea.

“Jeez, I know she has aspirations for her career here but good god… if that happens she’d scare off half the recruits with her mouth alone. Yet somehow, she’d still make the Lunar Guard the best fighting force,” he said, offering his partially-joking predictions.

In all honesty though, he felt that if Stella did eventually make Captain, it’d bode quite well for the Guard Force as a whole.

“Fair enough,” Celestia said, nodding.

Her expression became much more impish. Upon scribbling her signature on the document she was viewing, she turned her full attention to Fredrick with that half-smirk of hers.

“Though I must say, you’ve been spending a lot of time with her. Is there anything I should know about?”

Fredrick slowly lifted and turned his head towards Celestia, and the exaggerated gesture sent the solar alicorn into another fit of snickering. Fredrick, for his part, humorously entertained the thought.

Still, he shook his head with that same whimsical expression that he’d been harboring for the last few weeks.

“God, could you imagine? I honestly don’t think I’d survive,” he said, still mulling over the what-ifs.

Celestia nodded and still retained that jokingly flippant smile of hers while she continued to work.

“Possibly the first recorded case of death by banter?” she asked, but quickly followed up. “If there were no ethical questions, I’d give Luna the okay to weaponize her lexicon.”

“And then the world would bow to Equestrian hegemony,” Fred added, chuckling when he got Celestia to genuinely laugh at the thought.

“That’ll be the day” she said. “And you know what? Screw it. We’ll finish this tomorrow. There’s not much left, anyway, so just come in around noon and we’ll top this off,” she added, sweeping her paperwork aside and stretching her back.

As such, she puffed her chest out considerably, and Fredrick took no shame in stealing a glance.

Niceeeeeeeee…

“You sure about that?” Fred asked, making a few last-minute notes. “I really don’t mind staying later, you know.”

“Yeah, I think we’re good right now. It is late anyway, so why don’t we just call it a night right now?” Celestia proposed, organizing the last few things for tomorrow.

Fred shrugged, feigning indifference as he too began to wrap things up at his station. He shot his solar friend a sideways grin.

“Alright~” he replied. “If you don’t need me anymore, then in that case, I’m gonna take off right now. You got everything sorted?” he ventured to ask, testing his luck in one last effort to aid Celestia.

And with an exaggerated, dismissive wave of her hand, he had his answer.

“Yes, yes I’m good. Get out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll start two hours later to make up for the late night tonight, alright?”

Once she spoke those fateful words, Fred stood from his chair and initiated a massive, full-body stretch.

“Sounds like a plan!” he groaned out through his oh so pleasurable stretch. Having gathered what he needed (which wasn’t much), he removed his coat off the nearby coatrack and made for the door.

He waved to Celestia as he left.

“Goodnight, Celly!”

“Goodnight, Fredrick.”

Shutting the door behind him on his way out, Fred slipped into his sport coat and made his way toward his room in the Lunar Quadrant. The walk this late was usually a relaxing one for him, as there was nopony save for the occasional posted guard to make any noise. A gentle breeze blew through the corridors as he navigated expertly… a walk he had taken many, many times by now. His thoughts were occupied on just what he could do to entertain himself once he got back to his room.

At least, before Stella retrieved him at some point.

Hmmm. Glass of wine, perhaps?

Masturbate?

…Masturbate again?

All the possibilities he listed in his head sounded quite appealing, and he figured he’d get started with the first one on the list.

So, after a brisk five-minute walk, he arrived at his room’s large, ebony-wood doors. They weren’t unlike any of the other sets in the Residence Hall, but Luna had been gracious enough to have a nameplate custom made and nailed in the center. It ensured there were no more mix-ups and Fredrick accidentally walking into the room of a foreign dignitary again.

Especially when she happened to be nude.

Regarding the past gaffe with a chuckle as he entered into his room, Fredrick recalled that he had quite the lot of trouble explaining to Luna exactly why the ambassador from Mareatonia was ripshit.

More so because Luna just could not stop pissing herself laughing.

“Alright…” Fred huffed out to no one as he closed his door behind him.

Having entered fully into his room, he briefly took in his sanctuary: a nice, king-sized bed with teal comforter and sheets lay immaculately made on the right-most wall. A garden-variety rug took up the floor space between the foot of the bed and the dresser; said dresser—hand-carved at what Fred figured was cherry wood—stood on the left wall. This helped to frame the greatest part of his room, in his eyes.

The magically-lit candles cast small, dancing shadows that fought valiantly to compete with the natural moonlight entering in through the curtains from the balcony. Just as he had left it earlier, the massive balcony door, complete with several smaller window panes and a circular cutout amongst them, was slightly ajar. That same, comforting breeze blew inward and allowed the curtains to move in an ethereal cadence, as if beckoning him forth.

With a deep inhale and a smirk, Fred emptied his pockets and eagerly obliged. Passing between his bed and dresser, as well as a small vanity add-on next to the latter, he pulled back the curtains and threw open the balcony door in full. This gave him full access to the balcony proper, which was merely a half-circle composed of smaller stones, with some opulent-looking railings; suitable for a castle, he supposed.

Stretching out and running both of his hands through his hair, Fred let the breeze bathe him in a comfortable coolness that Equestria’s nights tended to afford him around this time of year, this time of night.

Fredrick leaned against the balcony and took in the sights of the lush fields and hills below, the mountain ranges directly ahead, and a lit-up Ponyville low and to the left. Scenery like this would cost a fortune a night back from whence he came. But here, it was free for him to take in whenever he liked. His breathing slowed and tranquility in its purest form diffused through his body through each exhale.

The princesses did spoil him though, at least in his eyes. Perhaps they were passively doing anything they could to make up for bringing him here.

Glancing over his shoulder and back into his room, Fred decided not to wander into that territory. It was good day today, and it was no time to sulk over things lost.

And as if the universe was listening to him, his door was violently booted open with an enormous crash. Needless to say, Fredrick almost shit himself… and nearly fell off the balcony.

Not necessarily in that order.

“FREEEED! HOOOLY FUCK!” came the boisterous, raspy, Scottish twang from the now-open door.

“JESUS CHRIST, WHAT??” came the reactionary retort from Fred after nearly killing himself from being startled.

The source of the sudden room-breach: Stella, garbed in a crimson V-neck and casual black short shorts. She immediately bounded into the room with the most beaming smile Fred had ever seen (after he gathered his bearings, of course). Her mane was styled in ponytail as usual and she was shaking in place with barely bridled excitement.

“Guess who’s got two thumbs, a nice rack, and just got bumped up to Leftenant??” Stella teased, but did not give Fred any moment to answer, as she promptly pointed her aforementioned thumbs right back at her aforementioned tits.

“This mare, right here!” she said with extra flair, striking a pose and holding up her new, shiny gold badge as she flared her wingspan.

Fred, hand over his chest and catching his breath, decided to remain out on the balcony to facilitate air into his lungs. He deadpanned harshly.

“Congrats Stel’, but for fucks sake, did you have to nearly destroy my door??” he asked, shooting her a rather peeved stare.

As if Stella even cared. She skipped forward merrily and joined him on the balcony, throwing her arms around him with a squeal.

She then became suddenly very… serious. She separated from him but bore her eyes straight into his. Having six months’ worth of exposure to the mare made Fred well-prepared for certain habits of hers.

“Yes. It was very fucking necessary. Don’t you ever question my methods of exuberance again, ya pasty lookin’ piece of stale sourdough,” she said.

Fred reeled a bit in confusion, and said reaction sent the batpony mare into a retreating giggle fit.

“Okay, I can’t tell if that was just a shit insult, or you actually made a crack at the color of my skin.”

“Nevermind that! I’m in a great fuckin’ mood right now and I have the night off!” Stella expertly swerved around Fred’s remark, doing a happy little twirl. The hem of her shirt lifted up ever so slightly and even the human had to admit it was cute.

She then added:

“So, I’m thinking you and me waltz on down to one of my favorite places to eat and drink. So, if I don’t have to castrate some poor bastard and that’s a big if,” she paused for dramatic effect, her right index finger pointing at Fred emphatically.

“We have a good time, get fuckin’ gashed and you can drag me back to barracks!”

“Hmmmmmmm,” Fredrick hummed, jokingly mulling over Stella’s offer.

In all honesty, that actually sounded like a wonderful time, and he’d be more than eager to go with her. However, he just liked pressing her buttons like the good friend he was.

Stella’s face went stoic as Fred drew out his hum.

“And by ‘hey let’s go somewhere,’ I of course meant ‘I’m not giving you a fuckin’ choice, cunt. You’re coming with me.’”

There’s what he was looking for. Thus, he decided to continue prodding her. Leaning his back against the balcony ledge, he replied:

“You have a compelling argument.” He bobbed his head lightly. “But I was feeling kinda tired after some overtime today…”

“Fair enough, mate,” Stella said, walking next to Fred and leaning on the balcony as well.

Cocking an eyebrow at him, she continued.

“In the end, all I’m saying is that you can go back to sitting on your ass and having a wank into yer sock over pictures of Princess Luna… or you can get drinks with your best friend and not be a right flaccid cock, ya fuckin’ poof.”

Fred could not contain it any longer, and he went into one of the many raucous laughing fits that Stella had put him into. How could he possibly say no to that, even if he wanted to?

“As much as the former option sounds entertaining,” he began. “I think going out with you clearly wins out. Alright, let’s head out.”

Stella beamed, but her eager expression quickly morphed into a devilish one.

“Sounds good to me! Let’s take a shortcut out to save some time,” she alluded, cracking her knuckles and stretching out her wings.

Fredrick was a little more than confused. To his knowledge there was only one way in and one way out of the castle.

“Wait… what do you—”

“THINK FAST, MATE!”

At an instant, Stella grabbed Fred by the legs and heaved him over the side of the balcony, much to his readily apparent chagrin if him screaming bloody murder was anything to go by.

The moment he went over the edge, Stella took a leap of faith and let her wings do all the work. For a split second, she felt the rush of air flowing powerfully over her appendages and her mane…

…then she remembered her scheme in the first place, and recalled that it would be wise to catch Fred in her grasp while he flailed, screamed, and plummeted towards the moat.

So, with a quick few bursts of speed and instantaneous flight adjustments, she intercepted him and clutched his body to hers as they neared a much safer distance to the ground.

Sailing briefly over the moat, Fred’s understandable wailing trailed off when he realized he was caught.

Stella then harshly deposited the two of them on the grass just on the perimeter of the moat. Though she could fly well, there would be no hope in her hefting his ass the entire way to their destination. Physics wouldn’t allow it.

Hyperventilating and checking his body, Fredrick ensured all was where it should have been before glaring daggers at an ever impish-looking Stella, who had landed right next to him.

“WHAT THE SHIT IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU LEATHERY-WINGED WHORE!?”

“Hey, fuck off, mate. Nopony pays me to have sex! Now come on, we’re burning moonlight,” Stella countered, dragging Fredrick by the hand towards the main streets of Canterlot.

“To you, and your new rank! Congratulations, Stella,” Fredrick complimented with a smile, holding his large beer mug out for Stella to tap hers against. He had rolled up his sleeves and loosened his tie for the occasion.

“Cheers, mate!” she exclaimed brightly in return, clinking her mug against his and signaling the both of them to chug the first drinks of the night.

The two leaned back in their booth and began downing one of the many tasty Equestrian elixirs in one of Stella’s favorite restaurants. Fred didn’t remember the name with all the noise around him in this happening place, but if he had to make a comparison, it reminded him of maybe a wing-shack of some sort… a place where a bunch of people could eat, drink, and dance to the live music.

There was certainly plenty of the latter.

Fredrick couldn’t down his entire drink in one go, so after he exhaled and set his glass down, he took another quick look at his surroundings. For a place frequented by batponies, it was surprisingly well-lit with soothing lights placed along the ceiling. There was a full, circular bar at the center of the restaurant that was constantly serving drinks to the dancing and lounging customers. Countless booths lined the perimeter of the establishment and the entirety of the free space was used as a dance floor. It was stuffy, but an unknown breeze served well to cool down all the customers, and ensure no detriment to a truly good time.

Quickly putting his attention back on Stella, she was still chugging the massive beer, and only after a couple of seconds, she was on her last sip.

Though Fredrick noticed something interesting: two drops dribbled down her chin and landed right in her cleavage.

Oh by all that is holy, dem tits…

Slamming her mug back on the table, she let out an exaggerated ‘ahhh’ and scooted next to Fredrick, wrapping her arm around him and pressing her cheek to his with a bright smile.

“Thanks, Fred. It really means a lot. Thanks for coming out with me,” Stella said, and the two shared in a small moment when the human returned her hug full force.

Fred curiously noted that she smelled nice, like the ‘nightbreeze’ wash that he was so fond of. He mulled over whether he had noticed it before or not.

The two traded soft smirks before Fred replied.

“Hey, it’s my pleasure. You’re never boring company,” he said. “Besides, it’s not every day my best friend becomes a lieutenant in the Lunar Guard! You’re gonna do well.”

An attentive waiter swooped by during the small pause, removing both empty glasses and replacing them with full ones before skating off again. Stella continued as if there was no intrusion, looking to her friend with a curious confidence.

“Aye? You think so?”

Fredrick forced a small patch of his hair back into place before answering from the heart.

“Oh hell yes. You’ve been wanting lieutenant for a while. I think you can do some real good now. Honestly, with your attitude, abrasiveness…”

“Hey!” Stella mock-scolded, playfully punching Fred in his shoulder as he continued.

“…but most of all, with your work ethic. You’ll make a fine officer,” he concluded, raising his glass to her again before taking another sip.

Stella grinned widely, those dimples in her cheeks becoming much more prominent, especially on her right cheek. Fredrick was almost tempted to poke her there, but figured Stella could do much worse in return, so he decided against it.

“Well aren’t you the fuckin’ charmer today?” she teased. She shamelessly adjusted her bra to alleviate some discomfort, which drew Fred’s attention briefly back to one of his more favorite parts of the fairer sex.

“Heh, next you’ll be sayin’ I’m pretty,” Stella added with a nudge.

Fredrick knew for a fact this was playful banter bordering platonic flirting. This was not entirely uncommon between the two of them, but throughout the six months that they had grown closer, they had not touched so much on their personal opinions of each other’s looks.

Nevertheless, reclining into his booth and turning to face Stella more personably, Fred wasn’t that afraid to speak his mind on the matter.

“We both know the answer to that implicit question. Stop fishing for compliments, bitch.”

Stella giggle maniacally, taking a swig of her own drink.

“Ahhh… Nah I just like seeing you get flustered when you say it,” she admitted.

And then she scooted a bit closer to him, leaving but half a foot between them.

Fred angled his head to her incredulously at her words.

“Oh please. If anything, I was nervous when I first got here and was still adapting. I’m most certainly not afraid to compliment you.”

Stella lidded her eyes, smiled brightly, and leaned in a little more.

“You sure about that?”

Fredrick shook his head lightly and shrugged, unfazed.

“Ummm. Yeah?” he said unsurely, cocking an eyebrow.

It was often anyone’s guess where Stella was going with her antics. Fredrick’s experience with women his own age gave him some predictive power with her… but as he and the batpony became much closer, Stella seemed to defy all logic sometimes. Thus far, their friendship had been nothing but peaches and cream, so there was nothing to really complain about per se, but one such example of her wildcard status was tossing him over the balcony for essentially ‘the lulz.’ In short, she kept him on edge.

But, contrary to his more cautious personality, he liked it.

In the end, Fredrick knew quite well that Stella would never let anything bad happen to him; she gave off that almost protective aura, and not in a patronizing way, either. Smiling on the inside at the brief reflection and respite from her antics, he could only hope he gave off the same feeling to her.

Back in reality, Stella looked comically surprised.

“Really…?” Stella questioned again, but her features soon returned to their sultry state.

She leaned forward more, just enough so that Fredrick could merely flick his eyes downward and catch an unadulterated glimpse of her full cleavage.

Fredrick fell right for it, and with a fleeting glance, he caught sight of her natural valley… one that he had been guilty of sneaking a glance at every now and then. This only proved to him that Stella definitely noticed once or twice.

“Why don’t you tell me again? Go on, say it,” she dared.

Fredrick gulped as his shirt spontaneously became much too tight around his neck. His internal temperature seemed to rocket upward, and his confidence in the face of Stella prodding and teasing him was called into question.

Stella appeared to notice this, because she reoriented her arms so her breasts were squeezed together that much more.

“Y-You’re a very pretty mare, Stella… Why must you hurt me in this way?” Fredrick said the fateful words, placing two fingers between his neck and shirt collar.

Stella righted her posture victoriously, laughing uproariously.

“Well thanks, love! I win!” she declared, pumping a fist into the air before downing the remainder of her second beer and lavishing him with another hug.

Fredrick was understandably flustered now, but what was odd to him was that he wanted… more. Stella pretty much let him use her as eye candy at that moment and catch one of the most perfect down-shirt glances he’d ever gotten.

Bah, not the first time. She’s hot, what could I expect?

At Stella’s request, they ordered more drinks including vodka, gin, and some more beers… though the batpony consumed most of it. Despite their activities and nonsensical conversational topics, Fredrick was hard-pressed to ignore the fluttering in his chest, as well as the stomach butterflies each time she smiled at him.

Especially during one particular moment. Fredrick had to wrench control of his body back and avert his gaze lest he become a little too lost in those golden orbs of hers.

Fred strained as Stella jerked and shuffled in his grasp as they struggled to walk back to the castle. While Fredrick looked as collected as ever (and being only mildly tipsy by this point), Stella was on another plane of inebriation entirely.

With her left arm thrown over the human’s back, Fred helped the stumbling mare forward by putting his arm around her waist and holding her as upright as possible. In the process, he could feel the taut, toned muscle underneath her shirt, and his mind slowly began to wander.

The odd duo gradually made their way down one of Canterlot’s side-streets to avoid the nightlife traffic, which left them with essentially a road to themselves. The two conversed loudly, though about ninety-five percent of the talking was done by a completely sloshed Stella. Fred had rarely seen her this drunk, but he had to admit that she was often just as hilarious and fun, if not more so when she was.

What made things complicated, building up from the odd feelings from the restaurant, was that to Fredrick, she looked absolutely stunning…

…as stunning as a plastered, uncoordinated and slurring mare could be, of course.

Still, each time Fredrick glanced over to her, he was suddenly taken by how the full moon’s light would reflect off of her coat, bringing out her subtle blue color at the right angles. Stella’s face was flushed, and her smile never seemed to wane. Her mane shined luminously, and even in its somewhat disheveled state, her ponytail was as awesome as it always was to him. Those golden eyes, now perpetually lidded, beamed brightly at him when she would cast her gleeful, inebriated gaze onto him.

To Fredrick, Stella was always a good-looking mare. Her attitude about life and ethics further added to this analysis.

But tonight… she was beautiful.

“You know, when you said ‘carry me back to barracks,’ I didn’t actually think you meant it,” Fred complained, opting to draw his conflicted thoughts away from the mare in question.

Stella’s response came out garbled and slurred:

“Ah fuckin’ always mean wha I spew out mah gob, ya hooman twat.”

She punctuated with a deep giggle, nuzzling her cheek into his for about the thirtieth time in the last hour.

Fredrick, however, could barely understand a word she said. It was as if her Scottish-ness fucktupled in size, and her accent spontaneously got immeasurably thicker, along with the usage of garbled, borderline nonsensical amalgamation of slang and profanity.

“Okay, I understood the ‘human twat,’ part. What the hell else did you say?” he ventured to ask.

Stella exaggeratedly tilted her head into his and made direct eye-contact.

And in hindsight, Fred figured that was a bad idea.

“Ya takin’ the piss outta me, Fred~, ya fukkin’ know me fer hav a gotdamn year an’ ya can’t even know wat the fuck Ah’m sayin’. Fuck’s sake, love, Ah thought ya wer mah bestest mate, ya fukkin’ skin-coated *HIC* green-eyed Trottingshite lookin’ wankstain pisser.”

Mouthing ‘oh my god’ to himself whilst shaking his head wheezing, Fredrick realized that this was their friendship in a nutshell. Even when neither of them had alcohol in their system, their last two utterances of dialogue were a proper summation of the bond they had formed over the last half-year.

After rounding a corner, the castle was now in sight for both of them.

“I can’t fucking understand you… This is exactly why we’re friends, Stella,” Fredrick said, chuckling.

Stella, easily sent into another snickering fit, had her own opinion to add to that… with a trademark (albeit drunken) smirk of hers.

“One o’ many reasons, handsome.”

Fred recoiled at that, and blinked hard.

“Did… did you just call me handsome?” he pressed.

Stella didn’t seem as willing to play games, this time.

“Oh don’t gimme tah fukkin’, holier-than-thou questions, ya soft cunt,” she so eloquently began. “Ya called me pretty earlier an’ Ah see tah way ya look at me when ya think Ah’m not payin’ attention. Ah’m a fukkin’ guard… and Ah was a regular soldier, knobhead. Ah know when Ah’m bein’ sized up.”

Fredrick didn’t think he could get any paler in the face of Stella’s drunk accusation.

Does she know?

And in the absence of any input from him, Stella took the opportunity to elaborate. Ever the brash one, her features devolved into a much softer, sultry look.

“But the question is… are ye stallion enough tae handle me in every respect?” she purred.

She then dragged a lone finger over Fred’s chest ever so delicately… and proceeded to descend lower and lower down his torso.

Fredrick stiffened (thankfully, only in the appropriate manner) at her allusive touch, but had enough sense to banish those thoughts. Feeling this a silver lining, he capitalized on what he felt was an appropriate out.

He gingerly batted the mare’s exploring hand away.

“Alright that’s enough, Stella. You're way too drunk for this right now.”

There was a pause that followed as they crossed the moat and entered into the castle proper. Stella looked as if she was processing those words for a good two minutes.

Finally, she had something to say, and say it she did with the conviction and run-on sentence structure few ponies could ever muster:

“No Ah’m nae! Ah swear tae me fuckin’ minces Ah’m not fukkin’ gashed, mate Ah’ll fukkin’ clock ye roight in tae fukkin’ cock n’ gob an’ smear yer fukkin’ entrails on yer face n’ south ya fukkin’ feet-havin’ twink stale piece o’ fukkin’ shitebread!”

Fred could’ve sworn Stella had some Cockney blood in there with some of those words she was spouting. What’s more, her words reverberated off the castle walls and echoed down the halls; Fred only hoped nopony would investigate.

“Jesus, Stella I still can’t understand a fucking thing you’re saying!” Fred exclaimed, quickly adjusting his grip on her waist so she didn’t slam into a pillar.

Her drunken mischievousness slipped away, however, when she had a sudden epiphany. The former topic was no longer priority.

“Shit… Ah need tae lie down, mate…” Stella grumbled, then belched into her fist.

Thank you Jesus…

“Alright, hold on Stel’. We’re almost there,” Fredrick said, picking up his pace and being the one dragging her this time around.

Thankfully there didn’t seem to be any guards

“I swear to Black Jesus if you hurl on me…”

“Ah ain’t gonna hurl, goddamnit. Stop gettin’ yer twat in a tangle,” Stella rebutted.

“Shut up. Just lean against me.”

Another drunkenly sultry face.

“Yeah, you’d like that huh?” Stella slurred out, pressing her breasts into Fred’s side.

She then began raising and lowering her torso against his ribs while nuzzling his face all the while. While her fur certainly felt nice against him—its velvety texture caressing him in such a way that he almost just let it happen—Fredrick pushed her away just enough.

“Goddamnit…” Fredrick mumbled.

They eventually found themselves in front of the entrance to the Lunar barracks. It lay at the end of a long corridor in the Lunar Quadrant, beyond a single door guarded by a lone guard.

Said guard stepped forward to intercept the odd duo.

“Halt. State your business here,” the stallion held his hand out to Fredrick.

He turned to the drunken mare in his hold.

“Your badge?”

“Wait, is that Stella?” the guard suddenly asked. After getting a quick, closer look, he nodded.

“Yup, that’s her. Looks like she celebrated a little too hard. Thanks for bringing her back. Go on in and get her to bed,” the soldier added politely, stepping aside and opening the door for the two of them.

“Hey, thanks man,” Fredrick replied, nodding deeply in thanks as he passed by.

“Not a problem."

“Oi! Good evenin’ Nightshade, ya pecan-crusted dickwheel!” Stella garbled her greeting as they passed by, though the guard decided to ignore her.

She didn’t seem to care either.

Conversation sorta died at that point, but there was no semblance of an awkward silence to be found. That’s one thing Fredrick had been thankful for as time went on. Stella often did most of the talking, but he didn’t mind. Even when both of them would fall quiet at some point, nothing seemed out of place.

It allowed him to concentrate on making sure he tucked the mare into bed properly. She cared not for her clothes and opted to pass out the moment her head hit the pillow, loud snoring and all.

Fredrick decided to sift through Stella’s cabinets to find a couple of glasses. He filled them with water and placed them on her nightstand before turning to make an exit. But he could not resist looking back on his knocked out friend with a foreign, odd variant of happiness reserved specifically for friends. A sappy smile etched its way onto Fred’s face… and he cupped his best friend’s cheek.

“Goodnight, you. And congrats again. Enjoy the fucking monolithic hangover tomorrow… yeesh.”

With that, he made his exit.

Unfortunately, the aforementioned sappy smile fell into a rather serious, pensive expression. Fred mentally compiled a small list of things that he had noticed specifically tonight.

God that shirt fit her so well.

Her teeth and smile seemed brighter tonight.

Her coat was immaculate!

She said I was handsome...

Wait… Oh fuck me.

Fredrick slapped his palm to his face and grumbled.

“I like Stella, don’t I?” he asked himself a genuine question.

One he already knew the answer to... an answer that had been festering for longer than he'd care to admit. If this was the case, he knew well that this had plenty of forthcoming implications, and each and every one of them terrified him to no end. Still, he could not get over how when his thoughts would drift to her even now, his heart rate seemed to soar, and his cheeks would flush.

There was no question about it any longer. Therefore, he had to see somepony tomorrow, one who could really help him sort out his thoughts and how to best approach this.

Because, lord above, Fredrick knew he’d be in for a wild ride if he was romantically interested in Stella.

“God fucking damnit.”

Some more internal musings and reflections this chapter to offset the massive amount of dialogue of last chapter. All comments and feedback appreciated. See you soon