Stitches mentions how the day after my birthday the girls took me to the spa. He leaves out the part that involves how I was almost raped, thank goodness, but goes on to complain that we left him out.

“So what are you saying?” Pearl asks. We all know what it is, but we want to hear him say it.

“Oh you know exactly what I’m saying,” he gripes.

“Just say it,” Patches demands.

“Fine, I want to go to the spa,” he kind of mumbles.

Patches leans in, a hoof behind her ear, “What was that?”

He smirks playfully. “I said, I want to go to the spa.” I heard him fine, both times, though he still slurred the words together.

Pearl joins in, leaning really close like she didn’t hear. “Huh?!” They say in unison.

“I want to go to the spa!” The few other patrons in the establishment look at him, but he either doesn’t notice or ignores them.

“Spa day, huh?” The waitress chimes in. She collected our trays earlier and has returned with the bill. We asked for it all together, and agreed to pool our cash. “Sounds like a lot of fun.”

“Oh it will be,” Patches promises.

I look at Noh for approval. He shrugs, “Yeah I could use a massage.”

Pearl scoffs at him, “Massage? Try hooficure!”

He rolls his eyes. “I will not knowingly buy myself a hooficure.”

“My treat then,” Pearl insists. “I just think we ought to stick together.” Then she wraps herself in her hooves like she’s scared. “I don’t trust those spa fillies…”

We laugh with her, even the waitress. Then she drops the check on the table and says, “Whenever you’re ready.”

Patches responds, “Can do, beautiful.” Then she winks.

The waitress smiles, but her eyes are wide with horror. She trots away quickly, while Patches laughs her head off. The rest of us laugh somewhat politely, but none of us thought it was nearly as funny as she thought. I really don’t get her. Is she a lesbian? Maybe even bi-sexual? Why wouldn’t she come clean about it? Is she afraid, and masks her insecurity with humor while dropping subtle hints in the hopes that somepony will catch on and make a move? Somehow I don’t think she’s that complicated, but I don’t know for sure. (Just ask her.) Do you know how awkward that would be? Like, ‘hey that was funny. By the way, are you lesbian?’ (When you say it like that…) I really don’t see any rational way to bring it up without hurting her feelings, or making her uncomfortable. I know I wouldn’t like somepony asking me something like that out of the blue. (Fine, I get your point. Just try to remember and ask her when the mood is right.)

I missed what they were talking about, but catch on that it had to do with the waitress. Patches was legitimately complimenting her. Did she come out? Did I miss her coming out by thinking too hard about why she wouldn’t come out?

“But you saw her face,” Patches finishes off. “Even if I did ask, she’d turn me down.” Dammit, she totally came out. Why was nopony freaking out over this? Did they already know?

“I guess you’re right,” Pearl allows. “But one of these days, each of you—“ she points her hoof between Patches, Stitches, and me, “—needs to ask somepony out.”

Noh nonchalantly takes a sip from his drink. “I saw that,” I call him out.

“Yeah,” Pearl adds. I mean… I could have handled it but whatever. “Do you have a girlfriend, or what?”

“Ehh…” he shrugs, then goes back to sipping his soda.

“Pfft,” Pearl scoffs. “How does a guy like you not have a date?” The way she says it makes it sound like there’s a ball coming up that we’re all going to.

“I dunno,” he admits. “Maybe… fillies are just intimidated by me?”

“Yeah I bet,” Pearl trails off. She really doesn’t know how to scold him any longer.

We’ve dished out even payments for the check, including a fair tip. As we exit the building, I feel like taking the conversation again. “Speaking of bets,” after the subject of bets was just about dead, “how about a little wager?”

Noh raises an eyebrow, “What kind of wager?”

“At the karaoke place,” I begin. “We can show off our singing skills and see who the crowd thinks is best.”

“That sounds like a contest for the two of you,” Stitches whines. Well, I suppose he wasn’t whining, but he definitely sounded pleased with the idea.

“Hey, I want in on it,” Pearl insists. “I’m as good as the two of you.”

“Count me out!” Patches calls.

“Fine by me,” Noh salutes. “So what’s at stake here?” The three of us ponder for a moment, but Noh comes right back in. “How’s this? If I win, you come to the theater every Sunday for lessons.” He’s talking to me.

I like the bet, but seeing as we were planning on doing that anyway I don’t think it’s nearly high enough. He must not be taking this seriously. I’m about to place my offer when Pearl comes in. “What about me?”

“Well what do you want?” Noh asks.

“I mean do I have to come to the lessons?”

“Well, do you want to?”

I hope she says no. I really hoped the singing lessons would give us some alone time.

“Not really I guess,” she shrugs. My brain sighs. “Not like I’ll lose, though. I’m already the BEST!” She sings the last word at the top of her voice.

“All right, big girl,” Noh challenges, “what’s in it for you?”

She smirks at me, “Another show.” I blush and my eyes go wide. “This time with both of you.”

Noh looks really embarrassed. I feel like bringing up his past as an exotic dancer, but don’t want to break his trust. He’ll do it on his own if he wants to.

“Now that,” Patches jumps, “I’d love to see.”

“Mmm,” now Stitches. “Me too.”

“All right,” Noh agrees. “We’ll have to see. How about you, Timber?”

“What about…” I stroke my chin, pretending to have some trouble deciding. I already know exactly what I want. I lean in real close to Noh, “A kiss?”

A choir of “Ooo” escalates from the others. Noguki’s blushing so hard it’s like his coat was dyed. I wonder if my face ever looked that discolored.

I feel cheeky enough to tease him some more. “A real good one, too, tongue and all. At least five seconds.”

“I’m not so sure,” Noh backs off. I’m afraid I might have gone too far. I want to apologize, but I don’t think I can. What kind of message would that send? Maybe I can just smile and play it off as a joke? “I guess so?” Too late now.

“Sorry Timber, but you won’t be getting that kiss,” Pearl’s mocking me.

Noh lightens up a tad, “Oh it’s on now. But I think I’ll change the stakes a bit.”

“I’ll allow it,” Pearl grins.

“Timber still comes to me every weekend,” he reiterates, “plus I get his new pillow.” I feel like he had something much more sinister in mind, but didn’t have the guts to say it out loud. Then again, maybe not.

“Deal,” Pearl declares.

“Deal,” I chime in.

“It’s settled then,” Noh finalizes. We all stick our hooves into our little triangle and bump them together. “No turning back now.”

“What have we gotten ourselves in to?” Pearl whinnies sarcastically.

At last, we all start heading toward the spa house. Then Patches says, “Wait, isn’t that spa like, on the other side of town?”

Pearl and I remember simultaneously how far away the place actually is, and groan in unison. “I guess we can take a trolley?” Pearl suggests.

“What’s a trolley?” Patches remarks.

“It’s just a big carriage for lots of ponies,” I explain. “They’re really only called ‘trolleys’ in places like Trottingham.”

“I’m so glad we have a dictionary with us,” Stitches says.

“Oh shut up,” I command. “Just because I’m the smartest one here…”

“This way!” Pearl interrupts.

We make it to the corner where a small herd waits for the trolley when Patches brings it back up, “I thought it was called a ‘bus.’”

“Some ponies call it that,” I offer. “I don’t really know where they came up with the word, though.”

We crowd onto the bus slowly and offer a bit each to the collection bin inside. The monitor thanks us with a smile and we take our seats. The ride is quiet, but I hear Noh humming the melody of the duet I sang earlier. I’m glad he remembers it well enough already, but have to instruct him, “That’s the mare’s part.”

“So what?” He whispers harshly, then smiles. I smile back and let him hum.

We all get off the carriage about a block away from our destination and walk the rest of the way. When we get there, pearl instructs the mare at the front desk, “Three tabs, please. I’ll be treating myself and him—“ me “—those two will share—“ Patches and Stitches “—and he’s on his own.”

Noh gives a shocked gasp, “But it’s my special day!”

“No,” Pearl corrects, “It’s Stitches’.”

Stitches just shakes his head quickly with his lips pressed together, then points at me. The receptionist is laughing, which is good. “Very well, mes amies.”

She begins scratching her pencil across a hefty-looking log book while Pearl continues with her demands. “We’ll all start off with a full hooficure and hot towels. Afterwards we’ll each have our own massage, which I’ll have them order in a sec.” The hostess is nodding and writing at the speed of light. I can’t imagine what her penmanship must look like with how fast her mouth is wiggling that utensil. “Take your time with the massages, we’ve got all day before our next appointment.”

“Oui, madame.”

“What next, hm?” Pearl looks around to all of us. “Haircuts? Facials?”

“Sauna?” Stitches asks.

“We’ll probably finish off with the sauna,” Pearl offers. “If there’s time.”

“Hooficures?” Patches asks.

“That was the first thing I said,” Pearl grumbles. “Already on the list.”

The hostess giggles again. Adorably, might I add.

“I’ve never had a mud facial,” I input.

Pearl turns back to the desk, “A full-service mud bath for him.”

“And me,” Patches insists.

“Me too, please,” Stitches, too.

“I think I’ll go with a haircut,” Noh suggests.

“Aww,” I whine.

“I know,” he rustles my mane, “but it really is time.”

“And I’ll take a coloring,” Pearl finishes. “Got all that?”

“Oui,” the mare nods. She lists off everything Pearl asked for, then asks, “What kind of massage would you all like?”

Pearl starts off, “Deep tissue for me.”

She looks at me intently. “Uhh, aromatherapy massage? Please.” She nods.

Stitches is next. “I’ll take aromatherapy, too.”

Patches, “Shiatsu.”

“Hmm,” Noh contemplates for a minute. “Do you offer acupuncture?”

“No, monsieur. So sorry.”

“That’s fine. I’ll take hot stone.”

“Oui,” she nods. She lists off each of our choices while pointing between us.

“Sounds perfect,” Pearl settles. The hostess tallies up the price and lets us know what it’ll cost when we’re finished. It seems a little expensive, then Pearl breaks out a membership card, something I only just remembered she had. She even convinced the hostess to allow it for each of the separate bills.

“Any special requests?” The mare asks.

“I’d like the latest issue of Funny Stallion magazine during my coloring.” Pearl turns to me next.

Without thinking my mouth asks, “Male masseuse?”

Patches snorts. My face is warming up. The mare nods, understanding. Why did I say that, though? I’ll barely get a good look at the guy. Then again, maybe a stallion will be a little tougher on my stiff neck? Then again, again, I asked for aromatherapy. I had deep tissue last time and it mostly just hurt, then left me weak. I wanted something more soothing this time.

“Can I have a harp play during my massage?” Noh requests.

“Oh, no. So sorry.” Poor doll.

Noh mocks disbelief, “What kind of place is this, no harp music? I’m only teasing,” he offers quickly so as not to hurt the mare’s feelings.

“Fresh cucumber?” Patches asks.

“Oui, cucumber is provided during mud bath.”

“Right.” She looks a little embarrassed. “That’s right.”

Pearl looks around once more, but everypony seems satisfied. I was sure Stitches would request a male masseuse like I did. Though I can’t imagine why I would assume that.

“That’ll be all,” Pearl officiates. My friends take turns stepping up and filling out payment. I thought it a little strange to pay before receiving the services. I assure myself that we could get a refund if we were really displeased. I knew we wouldn’t be, though.

We’re led to locker rooms to leave behind our belongings. Then we head to the hooficure chairs and get our hooves nicely cleaned and filed smooth. It goes quickly, since none of us requested any kind of polish or shining. It’s a good start, though. Especially with the hot towels on our faces. At least, I thought so.

We didn’t talk to each other a whole lot, but Pearl gossiped with the spa fillies like they were best friends. I remember how she mentioned her distrust of them and laughed a little. Then I remembered Noh swearing he’d never have a hooficure and laugh a little more. The filly working on my hooves tried to make small talk to pass the time, but I was mostly trying to relax. I answered her questions and responded politely. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings by ignoring her. I was too far away from Stitches or Noh to hear whatever they talked about.

After the hooficures, we’re all led to massage rooms. Stitches and I get to share a room, Pearl and Patches were together as well. Noh was left alone and left us with sad little eyes like we were abandoning him. I wave and smile deviously, like I’d planned his demise. He laughs a bit before we lose sight of each other.

“So,” Stitches begins, “you ever had an aromatherapy massage before?”

I shake my head no.

“Well it’s about time. My classmate’s a physical therapy major and is taking massage classes. It’s a real strange major in a medical school, if you ask me.”

“I don’t think so,” I input. “Physical therapy is a pretty important step for some ponies recovering from serious injury.”

“Well, I only meant the massage class,” he explains. “Anyway, he asks me all the time if he can use me for practice. Now, he doesn’t know how I roll, you know?” I nod. “I try not to make it awkward though. As a nurse, I have to take things seriously before anything else, usually. So he’s been trying out all these different kinds of massages on me and aromatherapy is my favorite so far.”

I can’t remember the last time he’s spoken to me this much. I relish the time with him and let him talk. “It’s a real slow massage, usually. They take these concentrated liquids called essential oils and rub them into your skin, then start really pressing into your bones and muscles.” He’s really accentuating the different parts of the massage, slowing his words down and pushing them out like he’s massaging each one. “The oils come from all kinds of flowers and stuff, and if you request certain scents they’ll give ‘em too you, but you really need to know what each oil does before you can decide which ones you want. The basic rub they apply here, I think, is a combination of lemon, jasmine, and rosemary. It’s all really good for stress relief and… all around happiness.” I get the feeling he was about to say something else.

We climb onto our beds, lie down flat on our fronts and rest our heads facing each other. A thought that pushes into my head makes me laugh; it’s that my gonads feel a little constricted between both my legs and the bed. I shift uneasily, and Stitches laughs a bit as he watches me reconfigure my balls against the bed.

I barely get comfortable in time for the masseuses to come through the door. I quickly lift my head and ask my masseuse to take my glasses. I give them to him and he leaves them on a table by the closed door. I relax again and wait for him to begin rubbing the oils onto me.

I hear his hooves rubbing together and get ready. When it takes a little longer than I expected I open my eyes. I didn’t remember closing them, but I open them and see Stitches mouthing something. “Huh?” I ask. I can’t read lips very well, but especially not without my glasses.

He laughs a little then enunciates, “He’s pretty hot.”

My masseuse chuckles, “Thanks.”

I didn’t get a good look at him, so I don’t really know. I close my eyes again and wait. Then I hear Stitches again, “Hey.” I don’t look, just lift my eyebrows lazily. “If you don’t ask him out, I will.”

My eyes shoot open. The guy’s laughing again, but Stitches’ masseuse speaks up, “Why can’t I ever get guys to fight over me?” She’s joking, but I do kind of feel sorry for her.

My masseuse speaks up again, “If either of you are serious, you’ll have to give me a minute after the massage to get my number.”

Stitches raises an eyebrow. I roll my eyes. “You’ll have to let me think about it.”

“Take your time,” the stallion offers. Then I feel his hooves against my shoulders. The smell reaches my nose and tingles against my skin.