She pulled the warm, fluffy towel closer around her withers. The comfy pony pillows she lay upon were so soft she was in danger of sinking into them and never resurfacing. It had been a while since she last saw pony pillows arranged in a circle around a fireplace. It was a very traditional Canterlotian thing rarely seen in the newer houses, hotels and other Canterlot establishments. But she remembered the Princesses maintained the style in their private chambers. To see it in somepony’s home meant the house itself must date back at least two generations, maybe more.

It was a spacious dwelling, built in that round magically-moulded Unicornian style, complete with its pale cream and cool amethyst hues. The interior was cluttered in that endearing way a home would accumulate curios, knickknacks and heirlooms over generations. But a lot of effort, care and love had evidently gone into looking after everything meticulously.

She had had an inkling he might be taking her back to his own home. But the apprehension of being in a stranger’s home only really struck her as he carried her through the front door and eased her onto his living room pillows. But his gentle if silent thoughtfulness had quickly put her at ease. He had even very kindly left a warm magic lantern in the fireplace in place of a real fire, knowing she was still shaken by the explosion earlier. Only when she stopped trembling did he finally leave her side to go make some hot cocoa.

Her ears perked up as she heard his heavy hoofsteps return to the living room. She frowned as she noticed he was accompanied by a second set of hoofsteps. ‘Who could that be?’ she thought, curiously. She felt her heart sink as his familiar form returned with a beautiful young mare in tow, a unicorn with fur the hue of sweet Crème brûlée. ‘Could that be his wife?’ she thought, feeling a touch of envy.

Coloratura let out a death-squeak as she was suddenly swept up in a bone-crushing hug worthy of an earth pony. “Ooooh, she is ab-so-lute-ly adorable!” the unicorn mare cooed in a titillatingly mesmerizing reverberato. “Can we keep her, please?” She nuzzled Coloratura’s mane as she gave the baker puppy-dog eyes.

“Mom, you’re suffocating her. And kind of molesting her too.” The baker gave a half-hearted attempt at prying his mother off Coloratura in an effort to prevent her from committing murder in the first degree.

“M-mom?!” Coloratura couldn’t help but squeak in disbelief. ‘This beautiful young creature is his MOM?!’ Though now that she wasn’t fighting for her breath she could begin to see how the two shared the exact same fur and mane colour, even the same eyes.

“Oh, yes, you can call me ‘mom’ all day, sweety,” Mom squeed.

“This is Cinnamon Chai, also known as mom,” the baker rolled his eyes. “Tell her if you need anything. Just need to go out for fifteen minutes, check on the diner, answer guard and firepony questions, that sort of thing. Be back shortly,” he said, levitating a cup of cocoa over to her. “Now, Mom, give her some space so she can drink her cocoa. Yes, well done, that’s a good Mom,” he said encouragingly as Mom finally backed away to give Coloratura some much-needed breathing space.

“U-um,” Coloratura didn’t even get a chance to say anything as he stepped out the front door, leaving her at Mom’s tender mercies.

Coloratura gave a faint squeak as Mom suddenly sat down on the pillow next to her. “I’m sorry about my son. He’s a kind colt, but as you’ve noticed he’s not much for words. He takes after his father, Harmony rest his soul,” Mom said, waving over at the photograph of the young handsome stallion hanging over the fireplace. “You know, my son has told me a lot about you over these past few weeks. Good things, obviously. But amazingly the only thing he can’t tell me is your name.” She gave her a questioning smile.

“It’s R-R-R-Rara-rarara-rarara-rarara,” Coloratura struggled to find the brakes on her own name.

“Rara, is it? What a darling name,” Mom gave a soft giggle into a front hoof. “Rest assured, my lovely, I’m not gonna bite. Much.” She gave her a wink.

Her reassurance fell on deaf, panickedly twitching ears. ’O-oh no, th-this is the meet-the-mom moment! Wh-what do I do?! Coloratura’s mind entered its default meltdown state.

Just as she was panicking over what to say, Mom turned surprisingly solemn. “My son told me what just happened. I must thank you for saving my son’s life,” she said, bowing her head low. “He is all I have left. And Cinnamon Chai does not forget debts, especially not life debts.”

‘She’s thanking me for saving her son’s life! I-is this even supposed to happen at a meet-the-mom moment?! Am I already doing this wrong?! Okay, need to make this right. Make this right, Rara!’ Coloratura’s mind floundered in panic. “Ma’am. You. Are. So young.” She finally managed to stutter.

There was a painfully pregnant pause. It gave birth to many more embarassing little pauses.

‘DOOOOOOOOOOH! Why the hay did I say thaaaaaaat?!’ Coloratura mentally face-hoofed repeatedly.

If she could drown herself in her hot cocoa, she would have. Except Mom seemed to have other plans for her. “Awwww, here I was trying to be all serious for a moment and you just had to go and be all adorably honest!” Mom squeed, pulling her into another one of her bone-crushing hugs. “Oh, you’re too precious! I’m not letting you go! Please, marry my son!”

’Mom just proposed to me. Now I know I’ve completely bucked up the meet-the-mom moment.’ The freefalling-to-my-doom part of her brain thought. But another part, the part that had detached itself to rise up towards the stars with joy, was thinking ‘Marriage! Squee! Squee! Double Squee!’ The two thoughts went so far apart that the warm little bubble inside her popped, leaving her suddenly naked in the face of real life. Her ears drooped under the sudden weight of reality.

Cinnamon Chai must have noticed the sudden droop in her. “Hmmm? What’s wrong, darling?” She asked, looking genuinely concerned.

“Nothi—” She was just about to say when harsh realization struck her – Lying to Cinnamon Chai meant lying to her son. And lying to her son would mean shutting him out of her life forever. She reluctantly made up her mind, gathering what little courage she had left. “Ma’am, I’m—I’m not a mare,” she finally admitted, heavily.

“Oh?” To Coloratura’s surprise, Cinnamon Chai only smiled in reply.

Silence.

“Um, I said I’m not a mare,” Coloratura repeated, just in case. “I-I’m kind of a colt, a weird one who, well, wants to be a mare.” She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the inevitable shock, horror and outrage.

“Yes, dear, I heard you the first time.” Mom said in a voice surprisingly lacking in shock, horror or outrage.

Coloratura opened one eye cautiously. “Uh, you’re—,” she gulped,”You’re alright with that?”

“Darling, I wouldn’t give two sparks even if you were a hydra. I can tell you like my son, and if you care for him enough to jump in harm’s way to save his life, you’re better than Princess Celestia in my books.” Coloratura gaped at Mom’s earnest remark. “Besides, I’m in no position to comment, really. I’m a futa.”

“Fu-what?” Coloratura blinked.

“Futa,” Mom repeated, patiently, chuckling a little at Coloratura’s blank look. “Oh, darling, you can’t be femcolt without getting invited to join Clocktower Genderwise by nosy ol’ Princess Mi Busybody Cadenza. All gender-confused ponies receive a personal invitation to Genderwise from her at some point in their lives. I mean, Society ponies are the only ones who care enough to reach out to us here in prudish lil’ Equestria. And judging from how successfully you’ve taken to your identity, you must have graduated from Genderwise 101. Am I right?” Cinnamon Chai raised an eyebrow.

“A—” Coloratura gaped in disbelief. Mom had her down perfectly. “Y-you’re also a member of Clocktower Society, ma’am?”

“I am, dear.” Mom said, levitating over her own Clocktower Society badge to show to her. “I was born a futa,” she explained with a faint smile. “As you know, we’re descendants of those cursed by Discord during his Reign of Chaos. But with everypony in Equestria the way they are, turning up their muzzles at anything that even remotely reminds them of Discord’s rule, Clocktower Society’s really the only place us futas can find acceptance. Kind of like femcolts like you, really,” she sighed, staring off into some distant memory. “Discord decided it’d be all fun and chaotic to make sure we futas needed regular ponies to be able to have foals. If it weren’t for Clocktower Society’s acceptance, we futas would have gone extinct millenia ago, for better or for worse.” She gave a sardonic little chuckle. “Ironic, isn’t it? A kink club, a bucking kink club, is the only reason my kind’s not extinct. But in this prudish world they’re the only ones open enough to accept ponies like you and me.” She shook her head with a sigh. “At least Genderwise was a nice bonus. They did help me decide I wanted to be a mare, with considerable help from my late husband. Nothing makes you feel more like a mare than a good firm rutting from your Master.” She giggled unashamedly. “Come now, dear, no need to be embarrassed around a fellow Clocktower member. Spill. Dom or sub?”

“S-s-s-sub.” Coloratura squeaked. It was certain now, the meet-the-mom moment had long since died a quick if painful death.

“Ooh, a mare after my own heart. I haven’t visited the Society in a while so I haven’t had the opportunity to chat with a fellow subbie in a long time,” Cinnamon giggled. “Do you have a Master, dear?”

Coloratura totally did not miss Cinnamon holding her breath. She somehow suspected she’d continue holding her breath until either she answered or Cinnamon passed out. And Coloratura certainly did not want to have to explain to her son why Mom managed to pass out from asphyxia while he was gone. “I used to. But we’re not together anymore.” She shook her head glumly in answer. “We met a long while ago,” she found herself saying. She wasn’t sure why, there was just something about Mom that was comforting, reassuring even, something that told her it was alright to finally get her story off her chest. Was it the fact that she was a fellow Society member? Or that they were kindred spirits in their pursuit of self-discovery?

“I was still very lost back then, confused about who I am, what I am,” Coloratura smiled bitterly. “Princess Cadence invited me, welcomed me into the Society personally. She and everypony at the Society accepted me for what I was, got me back on my hooves, showed me that I wasn’t alone, that there were many other confused ponies like me at Clocktower Society. I don’t think I would have come to terms with what I am without their help,” she smiled at the fond memories. “Of course, Clocktower Society's a kink club first and foremost, nopony was about to pretend it’s anything else. It certainly helped us get familiar with ourselves, made us feel wanted, loved, for the first time in our lives,” she giggled softly, blushing all the while. “That was when I met Svengallop for the first time.” Her face fell a little at the recollection. “She–he was there for pretty much the same reason, though he had been at the Society much longer. He was kinder back then, so eager to help other confused ponies just as Genderwise had helped him. He was the first to accept me as a mare. We became friends, then much more. By that point we had both really gotten into the kink lifestyle like everypony else at Clocktower Society. I decided I wanted to have him as my Master. I had never seen him as happy as that day I offered my collar to him. He told me he’d make me happy, that he’d make me into a pony that all of Equestria will accept. And I guess he did. But things changed. I saw him start looking at other mares, real mares. He drifted away and I, well, I couldn’t do anything to compete, not with real mares. And before I knew it we–we were over,” she sniffled softly.

To her surprise, Mom wordlessly pulled her into a tight hug. Coloratura was starting to suspect she was the huggy kind of pony. “Then it was his loss, and he lost big time,” Mom said, stiffly. “Darling, I know he might have made you feel like a mare. But he did not make you a mare, not by a longshot. Because ultimately mares like you and I have had to delve deeper and fight harder to find our identity. We weren’t given it on a silver platter, we earned it through years of wandering and heartache. Those trials and struggles to get to where we are is what truly makes us mares. And it’ll always be our treasure to gift to whoever we choose to be our Master. And a Master who deserves your love would cherish that precious gift, embrace it and never let it go. Got it, sweety?” Cinnamon tilted her head to one side to peer up at Coloratura’s face. “Darling? What’s wrong? Was it something I said?” She asked worriedly, noticing the tears trickling down Coloratura’s cheeks.

“N-no—,” Coloratura hiccuped softly. “I-I don’t know, it’s just—I’ve felt so lost since he left. It felt like he took everything away with him, my life, my career, my everything. I wasn’t even sure what was left, if there was anything at all.”

“He cannot take anything that you don’t allow him to take.” Mom pressed her forehead firmly against hers, looking her sternly in the eye. “I see a beautiful, loving, heroic mare, the kind of pony I want as my daughter-in-law. My son has never brought a mare home and introduced me until today. And ultimately, you alone know all the hardships and victories you’ve struggled through to become the mare you are today. Those are facts that he can never take away from you.”

It was an indescribable feeling. Those were the words she didn’t even know she needed to hear so badly. She wasn’t sure why she needed somepony else to say it to her. She had lived her whole life believing she needed other ponies to accept her, to help her be accepted. She had never considered that perhaps she had already somewhere along the way earned the right to be a mare, that perhaps she could stand on her own four hooves, say her own words, plot her own course, be her own mare.

Was that what the baker had been trying to do over the past few weeks? Get her comfortable doing her own thing? Could that possibly be why the silent stallion brought her to see his mother today?

“Th-thank you,” Coloratura sniffled through her tears, “Thank you so much.”

“I did nothing, dear. You’re a strong mare, you know, kind of like me. You got yourself this far. So don’t stop, and don’t let nothing stop you,” Mom said with a smile. “Now, regardless of whether or not you end up with my son – Though I’d prefer it if you did – I would like us to stay friend, Rara.”

“I’d love that.” Coloratura smiled, wiping away the last of her tears. “I’d love that very much.”

“Now you must absolutely stop by my coffee shop,” Mom said, “I serve proper confectionary, not like the rubbish my son–”

“–Who’s just returned home and heard all that.” Her son deadpanned as he trotted through the front door.

“–calls sweets, no matter how much sugar he wastes in those fried lumps of flours.” Mom finished.

“Glad you care so much about the donut shop, Mom,” He said with a bright smile.

“Never appreciated real cooking, just like your father.” Mom harrumphed, nudging her hip against his playfully. “She’s a keeper.” Coloratura totally heard her hiss at her son. Tirek in Tartarus probably heard her hiss at her son. “Let my future daughter-in-law slip out of my hooves and I will disown your butt so fast your cutie-mark will have to hitch a ride on a Wonderbolt to catch up.”

“Mom, you’re scaring the poor filly,” her son rolled his eyes at her. “Now, go on, be a good mommy and do mommy things. Y’know, like peeking at us through the keyhole or something.”

“Don’t start for at least five minutes. I need some popcorn,” Mom said as she disappeared through the door.

“Alright, she’ll be back in three, but that’s enough time. Now’s our chance,” he magically opened the front door, gesturing for them to make their escape. She wasn’t entirely sure why they were running away but she rushed out with him into the cool Canterlot evening outside. “Hear popcorn popping. Faster!” He called to her over the sound of the rushing wind.

She wasn’t sure why but she was laughing as they ran down the block. Her laughter felt free, light, as if a burden had finally been lifted off her back. He chuckled along as he ran alongside her, sharing in her mirth. They ran and ran and ran some more. Coloratura felt so light and free she probably wouldn’t have stopped if it weren’t for the very gates of the palace standing in her way. The guards eyed them idly as they slowed down to a trot, laughing all the while. They finally came to a stop at the fountain in the palace boulevard, chuckling and giggling in between pants.

They eventually lapsed into companionable silence. They sat down on the fountain, watching as the rest of Canterlot slowly lit up in the dark beneath them.

It was a while before he finally broke the silence for them. “So, yes, live with my mom,” he said, blushing a little awkwardly.

“She’s an incredible mare,” Coloratura said, earnestly, “I really like her.”

“You do?” His ears perked up, “Oh, thank Celestia. Thought it was a lost cause!” He seemed awfully thankful for something.

“Hmmm?” Coloratura tilted her head to one side curiously at his remark.

“Oh, nothing.” He grinned. “Uh, thank you for saving me earlier. Could’ve been hurt real bad. Stupid of me.”

“Oh, no, anypony would’ve done the same.” Coloratura was quick to wave a dismissive forehoof.

“But you did it. Owe you my life now,” He said with a grateful smile.

Her blush only deepened. “N-no, really.” She murmured, demurely. “Is your hoof alright? I’m still sorry about kissi–I mean, licking it earlier!” She said awkwardly.

“Good as new. It’s gotta be your magic.” He chuckled, showing her what little remained of the gash.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Coloratura smiled as she breathed a sigh of relief. It was suddenly the stallion’s turn to blush at her smile, seemingly stunned by her fuss over such a minor injury. Thankfully for him, Coloratura didn’t seem to notice. “And how’s the diner?” She asked.

“Damage wasn’t too bad,” he quickly replied, seemingly happy for the change in topic, “It was just the stove. The donut frier and other machines survived. Could still make donuts and coffee, just won’t be able to serve any savouries for breakfast for a while,” he shrugged his withers. “Not complaining. Got off lucky, thanks to you. Oh, look what else survived.” He reached inside his saddlebags, pulling out two cans of cocoa.

“Pffft!” Coloratura burst out laughing, “Oh, how lucky!”

“Yep,” he shared in her laughter, magically opening one before levitating it over to her. “I also saved this.” He brought out a bottle of bright gold liquor. “Neighponese Kokorotora. Been savin’ this for a special occasion. Think living is pretty special.” He offered it to her.

“Well, I can drink to that,” she giggled, holding her cocoa up for him. He poured a generous shot for her before giving his own cocoa a good fill. “To living!”

“To living!” They drank their toast by the fountainside. Coloratura revelled in the taste. The cocoa was just as warm as the day she met him, with a comforting sweetness and a little something extra special, something she knew she’d have fun figuring out.

Just like him.

They lapsed into yet another companionable silence. There was an awful lot of those with this rather silent stallion, but she quickly found she didn’t mind it. He rubbed his neck awkwardly as he seemed to ponder what to say next. This was probably the most he had ever spoken in his entire life. “Uh, what’s your name?” He finally asked.

She gaped. Had she really gone this long without telling him her name? Really? She had dive-tackled him into the ground without giving her name first? She had licked his hoof without even the common decency to introduce herself? Was she really that kind of mare?

“Uh, if you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay.” He shifted anxiously. It was the first time she had ever seen him nervous. “Well, would like to know. But I know you might not want me to know, so it’s okay, y’know.”

“It’s R-R-R-Rara-rarara-rarara-rarara,” she blurted out, struggling to find the brakes on her own name once more.

“Rara.” He found the brakes for her. “Rara.” He smiled as he repeated her name. “Rara.” His smile only widened.

“Yes?” She squeaked. Any brighter and her blush could probably be seen from the moon.

“Nothing. It’s just that it’s such a beautiful name,” he said with a grin, “Can’t stop saying it.”

’I don’t want you to, she thought inwardly, grimacing at how cheesy her own thoughts were. Another thought suddenly occurred to her. “Uh, your name, is it ‘Donut Joe’?” She suddenly asked.

He paused at her question, seemingly coming to the sudden realization that he had yet to tell her his name either. He chuckled, “Hahahahahah!” he guffawed loudly.

“What’s so funny? Did I get it wrong?” Coloratura asked, worriedly wondering if she had made yet another faux pas.

“Well, actually, name’s Mane. Con Mane, agent donut pone shaken. Not stirred,” he said with his usual bright grin, "Wrote 'Donut Joe' over the shop door and on all the napkins to mislead my enemies,” he said, inviting a delightful giggle from her. “Dad wanted to name me ‘Donuts’. Mom wanted ‘Joy’. Donut Joe stuck,” he shrugged, “Certainly helps sell the donuts. But doesn’t really matter. Tell me, how would you describe this can of cocoa?” He asked, tapping her can.

She grinned knowingly. She knew this one. “It’s half-full, off course.”

“Call it half-full, half-empty, whatever name you want, but what really matters is that it’s not gonna let you go thirsty anytime soon—and, the most important bit, there’s always a little bit of room for a dash of booze.” The stallion demonstrated by topping up the cocoa with another shot of Kokorotora before doing teh same with his own. “Cheers.” The unicorn levitated his own can before downing his in one gulp.

Coloratura couldn’t help but suppress a giggle at the liquor’s name. “Kampai.” She toasted him in true Neighponese spirit as she took another sip of the alcoholic cocoa.

Kokorotora cocoa was definitely better than canned cocoa.

“Yeah, that hit the spot.” He sighed, “Kokorotora’s the best.”

Coloratura couldn’t help but blush brightly at that.

How she wished it was her he was referring to.

She snapped out of her reverie as he suddenly spoke up again. “Uh, y’know I’m a simple pony. Don’t know my salad fork from my desert spoon, don’t know how to, y’know, treat a fine lady like yourself. So, uh, what I’m trying to say is…” The usually stoic stallion seemed so adorable as he tried to find the right words for her. Coloratura couldn’t help but feel her heart melt for him. “...could I please walk you home?” He asked.

“Yes!” She cried excitedly before she threw a forehoof over her mouth. She smiled sheepishly up at him as she corrected herself. “I-I mean, Donut Joe, I would love that. Very much.”

He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as he made to follow her. He walked by her side, staying silent the rest of the way to her hotel. He seemed to have exhausted a lifetime’s supply of words that night. She didn’t mind his silence. His endearingly goofy grin more than spoke for him.

The journey home seemed to be over before it even began. All too soon she was standing in front of her hotel courtyard. The courtyard and the road in front of it seemed deserted, with Canterlot’s night life attracting most ponies to the other side of town around this time of the night.

They stood there for a while, staring at the hotel’s front door. For the first time, the silence wasn’t for lack of something to say. Both knew what to say. Neither wanted to say it.

“Good b–good night,” he finally said, his voice full of forced reluctance.

“Good night, Donut Joe.” She smiled sweetly up at him. “Oh, will your diner be open tomorrow?” She asked.

“Yes. As always.” He nodded, his smile suddenly hopeful.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she promised him.

“Y-yeah! Tomorrow!” He grinned widely, appearing satisfied with her promise. “Tomorrow,” he hummed happily, seemingly suddenly lost in thought as he turned away.

Coloratura smiled fondly as she watched him leave. Perhaps….perhaps prince charming does come around, even after midnight’s past?

“Hello, Coloratura.”

The voice felt like a cube of ice running down her spine. Her heart froze in her throat, threatening to shatter. She had to force herself to turn her suddenly stiff neck to look behind her. She suddenly felt weak and nauseous at the sight before her.

It was Svengallop.