“Let's see if Stormy has had her coffee and maybe we can sneak a second breakfast,” Airmail suggested with a little smile on her face. She knew, as she led the way down the stairs from the bathroom through the living room to the cloudominium’s kitchen that the chances of actually getting a second breakfast were sadly remote.

“Alrighty Pretty,” Wildfire replied, setting her hoof upon the stairs. It was still a little odd to think all this was made of cloud when it felt like every other set of stairs, bath, bed and so on that she’d ever been in. “Although, I hope it’s not just the royal gardens you want to do it in,” she giggled, “there are other places.”

Airmail nodded at that. As it happened, she did have a list she was eager to work through. “The lake at home is high on the list.”

“Your office,” Wildfire countered.

Airmail laughed out loud, pausing half way across the living room. “The only risk there is Lavender and Omega dropping popcorn on my carpet while they watch.”

“Ha!” Wildfire joined her fiancé in the fit of laughter. She could very much see Lavender doing just that, which was why she suggested it. “Okay then, Stormy's office.”

“We may have to chase out a dust bunny or two.” Airmail snickered, recalling just how dusty from sheer lack of use her violet herd-mate’s office was.

Wildfire cocked her head to one side, apparently deep in thought, in an attempt to think of a better more public place than Tempest’s office. Thankfully one such place came quickly to her mind. “Oh! Ooh I know!” She exclaimed, all excited, “How about a museum, or a library?”

“The Met sounds like fun.” Airmail said, considering what her lover had just voiced aloud.

“Instead of a bucket list,” Wildfire snickered, a very fun little thought occurring to her then, she laughed at her own upcoming joke. “We need a buck-it list!”

In his kitchen, busily eating his breakfast with his daughter, Lightning looked up from his bowl of oatmeal and mixed fruit when he heard Wildfire’s voice coming from the doorway of the living room. “You need a bucket list for what?” He asked, reaching for a peach slice.

“Oh, just public places we can do it in.” Wildfire announced like she was discussing the weather, “so far we have the lake at home and The Met.” She grinned, feeling for an empty seating pad – which took a good few minutes – and getting comfortable on it.

“Okay…” Deciding that he’d heard enough of that, Lightning got up from the breakfast bar and walked over to the coffee maker that Storm had put to such good use earlier. After all, like Mist said, good hosts looked after the guests.

Tempest smirked from her place at the bar. “It’s good to see both of you have put your minds to good use.”

“Yuppers!” Wildfire exclaimed brightly, smiling all the wider when she smelled the coffee granules and heard the coffee machine being switched on. She smiled the smile of one about to receive fresh coffee. “Oh and Airy suggested the royal gardens!”

“Good of you to share, Wily.” Tempest snickered with a roll of her blue eyes before delving back into her bowl of fruit.

“You're totally welcome Honey.” Wildfire beamed when her steaming mug of very hot, very fresh black coffee with two sugars was placed in front of her on the bar top. “Did you sleep well last night?”

“I slept very well, thank you.” Tempest replied, but only after she emptied the half-full mug of coffee she already had and then took a welcome sip of the fresh full one her dad set before her. “There’s just…something, about a comfortable cloud bed at altitude.”

Wildfire nodded at that. “Yuppers, it was lush. Oh!” She started, her brain suddenly thinking of what she and Airmail had been talking about up in the bathroom. At least, when they had talked as opposed to getting frisky in the hot water. “We set a date for the wedding.”

“Tomorrow?” Tempest quipped, earning herself a snigger from Lightning and a stuck out tongue from her herd-mate. “And I still need to get my mane done.”

Taking a sip of her own hot coffee, Airmail giggled at her violet marefriend once she set the mug down on the breakfast bar between them. “We decided on next month. June the fifteenth, at midnight.”

“You going to do it at the hall?”

“Yeah, Tempest,” Airmail answered, now with a definite smile in her voice that was palpable when she spoke of her fiancé and her upcoming marriage, “with Coffee Bean overseeing.”

Tempest digested that along with a mouthful of her summer fruit mix. “Caffy will certainly like that news.”

Wildfire, about to reach for her coffee with her left forehoof, paused when she had a thought about her upcoming wedding to Airmail. “Pretty, Honey, when we meet Oils' dad in his shop should we check his flowers out, maybe we can book them for the wedding if we like them?”

“Yes,” Tempest agreed, “Yes we should. I'm bringing some back for mom.”

Wildfire took that long sip of her coffee, relishing the bitter taste of the hot black liquid as it made its way down her willing throat. “If we like them Pretty, then that’s another thing we can tick off.”

Concentrating on her fruit, Tempest wasn’t wholly listening. She just caught the last two words. “Tick off?” She asked, wondering what Wildfire meant.

“Yuppers,” Wildfire began to explain, “Y’know like one of Dusky's checklists, we've sorted the date, place, time and pony in charge now.”

“Flowers for our wedding.” Airmail said, feeling the need to explain further. At least the doubts she had the night before regarding Wildfire’s sincerity had diminished somewhat. That said though, she was still a little wary. No matter how hard she tried though, it seemed too good to be true. “Manehatten from Trottingham is a good ways to import flowers, but I'm sure Oil's dad would like the thought.”

“Hmm okay,” Wildfire had her head to one side, in thought. “It is a bit far, I suppose.”

“We can but ask.”

Wildfire smiled, turning her head in Airmail’s direction. This wasn’t hard, she was as ever at the little yellow mare’s left. “We can’t lose anything by asking, Pretty.”

“Let's visit the park I sent Dusky and Oils to last night,” Tempest said after a few minutes of solid munching when her bowl was at last empty and her belly full, which was her favourite equation. Empty bowl or plate equals full belly. “Then we can fly down to the flower shop afterwards.”

“That sounds like a plan, Honey.” Wildfire agreed, and while she drained the rest of her thoroughly delicious coffee the little blind mare had another thought. “Ooh, who won the bridge game last night?”

Lightning snickered as the old stallion finished his own breakfast and coffee then took the dishes over to the dishwasher. “We played best of three. The mares took the second and third games for the win.” He gave a little good natured pout as he filled the dishwasher.

“Of course, the colts did do a victory dance after winning the first game.” Tempest filled in as she helped her dad by clearing away all the rest of the dishes and starting the wiping down of the kitchen worktop surfaces. “Vengeance was sweet indeed.”

“Aaah sweet vengeance!” Wildfire let out a giggle, a giggle that only got louder when Tempest wiped the wet cloth over her hooves. Still giggling, she recited a short little poem from her time at university.

“One day you will find,
That vengeance is mine.
Every single time,
That I cross your mind.”

Airmail listened intently, just like she did to all of her lover’s poems. She was amazed every time she heard one how she could think of them on the spot and when she didn’t, Airmail was impressed how she could remember the words. “Wily, remind me to not make you vengeful.”

Wildfire giggled at that. “You won’t Pretty, nor will any of the herd.”

“I think you'll like the park,” Tempest snickered into Wildfire’s right ear once the breakfast clean-up was complete and the work surfaces were shining clean. “It has an adult section too so you don't get bored watching the foals,” she purred as sexily as she could.

Wildfire chuckled and flicked her right ear. “Honey, that does sound cool, though I doubt I'd get bored.”

At that, almost like she was accepting a challenge, Tempest leant in and nuzzled Wildfire's cheek, her muzzle right next to her ear. “It is a good place for lovers too…”

Straightaway, Wildfire returned the nuzzle with a little nip of her own to Tempest’s ear, though the diminutive yellow pegasus had to stretch up onto the tips of the toes of her hooves to do so. “Although, it is amazing how fast you can get bored watching foals…” while she was up there, she kissed Tempest’s ear.

Once everypony was ready, with toilet usage and their hooves cleaned, the three mares left Tempest’s parents’ house for the park. From where they were in the Cloud District, it was a short but nonetheless enjoyable flight, what with the warm late morning sunshine on their backs and the clean crisp smelling air around them. Once they landed, Tempest and Airmail made every haste leading Wildfire around, taking extra care to show her all of the playsets – Wildfire was again amazed that everything was made of cloud-stuff – she found that the foals and adults equipment were mixed together. “Want to swing, Wily?” Tempest asked when they were back at the entrance gate.

“Yuppers!” From the brief tour, Wildfire knew they were stood by the swings. “I certainly do!”

“Push me too!” Airmail squeaked and bounced like a filly a fraction of her age as she helped guide Wildfire’s hooves towards the seat of the swing, “Push me too!” Laughing out loud, Tempest got herself behind her marefriends and waited for both of them to get properly on the swings so could push them both at the same time.

“Whoop!” Wildfire hopped up onto her chosen swing, which just happened to be a red one, and held on tight to the chains with her forehooves. “Momma I wanna go high!”

Tempest rolled her blue eyes for the second time that day already. She had a feeling there’d be many eye rolls left in the day yet. “Yes darling,” she grinned as she hovered between Airmail and Wildfire’s swings, “I'll push you real high.”

“Thanks!” Wildfire grinned a wide happy grin and squeaked like a little filly when Tempest gave her and her fiancé a hard push, setting them both in motion and momentarily leaving her tummy behind her. “Hey Honey,” Wildfire said as she caught up her tummy, “is there a bouncy castle here?”

“No, there’s some jungle gyms,” Tempest answered as she gave her overgrown fillies another hard push, “Oh, and a rock climbing wall.”

“I thought that silly,” Airmail commented at the height of her swing before going back down, “but it does help to build leg strength.”

“Awww,” Wildfire made a little whine, “bouncy castles are just about the best thing ev…whooooo! Ever!”

Tempest tried – though not very hard – and failed, to hide her snicker when her shove caused her little herd-mate to squeal in delight. She supposed it was the lack of visual clues as to when the next change in direction was going to come. “There is one in town so we'll make that a must see stop on the Trottingham tour.”

“Seriously?” Wildfire didn’t want to dare to believe it. It had literally been years since she had been on or anywhere near a bouncy castle. “Um, can we, really?”

“Oh,” Tempest teased, unaware of her marefriend’s love of bouncy castles. “Hmm…now I have to think about it.”

“Wait,” Airmail snickered playfully as she was pushed higher on her next swing, “I'm not sure where the fire extinguisher is.”

“Please, please pleeeease!” Wildfire begged as she was swung, so very excited to maybe perhaps once again going on a bouncy castle. Her mother had always taken her when they had been shopping together when she had been a filly and they were among her best memories of Silverbolt. “I swear I'll be good forever!”

“Wily, don't say things you don't mean.” Tempest chided. She had a ‘thing’ about unkeepable promises. “I know that you'll be a naughty little pegasus one day to see if Airy or I notice.”

“Wily is a fibber!” Airmail chanted on the upswing, “Wily is a fibber!”

Again, this was met with a roll of the eyes from Tempest. “Somepony want a spanking?” She asked, adding a little slap to her marefriend’s ass as she pushed her.

The squeak that Airmail let out from the unexpected little swat was utterly priceless. “No mamma!”

Wildfire gave her fiancé a long loud raspberry as she swung, “na na-nah you got told off!”

“Wah!” Airmail cried out in a very good imitation of a crying filly having a little tantrum. “Momma, Wily is picking on me!”

“Am not!” Wildfire shot back with a snicker in her voice, fully getting into her role with the amount of fun she was having. “Airy's being a baby!”

Tempest sighed inwardly and decided this was beyond an eye roll. She even went so far as to shake her head and tut out loud. “If you two keep arguing, I'll stop pushing.” She said warningly.

Quickly, Wildfire stuck out her tongue in Airmail’s direction. “I'm behaving.”

“Faster!” Airmail shouted, her voice absolutely full of glee and delight.

“Higher!” Wildfire yelled as the swing began to dip lower. “I wanna go higher, Mommy!”

For the next half an hour, Tempest had herself a lot of fun pushing the two of her herd-mates ever faster and higher in the warmth of the frankly beautiful high altitude sun until she decided it was time, albeit reluctantly, to move on with the day. “Who wants to go see some pretty flowers?”

“I do!” Airmail squeaked first, “I do, I do!”

Wildfire, momentarily torn between wanting to play and swing, but also wanting to go and meet Brush Stroke’s dad, made her mind up in a few seconds. Her mind made up, and not wanting to be outdone, she yelled out; “I do too!”

Gradually, Tempest slowed both Airmail and Tempest down to a stop. “Very well then,” She said in her haughtiest tone, her nose up in the air to complete the effect, “come along, girls.”

“We’re coming, Mommy Tempy!” Wildfire exclaimed with a very wide smile. A sniff of her nose and she instantly knew that Airmail was as ever at her left side. She walked beside her but the azure blue mare didn’t jostle her at all. Curiously, Wildfire turned her head in her fiancé’s direction. “You alright, Pretty?”

“Of course I am, I’m going to see some flowers!” Airmail caressed her diminutive lover’s flank with the primary feathers of her right wingtip. “Having fun, little sis?”

“Yuppers!” Wildfire grinned, her black tail instinctively rising upwards at the touch of Airmail’s primary feathers. “I'm having fun, the swings was cool, and it was so awesomes going up high!”

At that, Airmail affectionately nuzzled Wildfire’s cheek. “I loves you.”

Immediately, Wildfire returned the nuzzle to her much larger, older herd-mate. “Well as it happens, I love you missus, and it was fun being a little filly again, if only for a few moments.”

Tempest cut in front of her two marefriends. “Your tracker up and running, Wily?” The violet weather pony asked as she eyed the flight headset that the diminutive yellow pegasus was wearing.

“Yuppers,” Wildfire nodded, she checked the activation button on the bit in her mouth, the reassuring words in her ear. “It’s working just fine, why?”

“Then let's fly and please, you two, do try to keep up.” With that, Tempest spread her wide powerful violet wings and took off into the clear blue noon day sky, her destination Dandelion’s flower shop in Trottingham’s uptown Market Row. She hadn’t been there for a fairly long while.

“Alrighty, Momma!” Flapping her yellow wings and took off, the tracker in her headset reading Point One taking off in front of her, flying upwards but angling down towards the ground. Airmail beside her paused long enough to let Wildfire rise a few feet in the air before she too took off after her.

“Trottingham is a lot like Ponyville,” Tempest commented to Wildfire over her shoulder as the glided in a close V formation down to the ground, “Although it’s about half again as large.”

Gliding down quickly from ten thousand feet through three thousand down to seven, Wildfire tried to do that math in her head. Typically though for her, she couldn’t. “Um…so it’s like, um, three times bigger?”

Airmail giggled. Not in a nasty way, but she giggled nonetheless. “One and a half times bigger, Wily, not three.”

“Before the Librarian became a Princess,” Tempest explained as they rapidly descended towards the ground. “Trottingham was a lot bigger than Ponyville used to be.”

Wildfire wasn’t really listening. She was still blushing a very bright red from her mistake with the math. She supposed she should know better by now. “Oh...um…right, yeah, one and a half times bigger, I um, I knew that.” As they descended lower and lower, losing altitude all the time, she knew full well her marefriends weren’t fooled.

Tempest carried on gliding down and Wildfire, noting how close they were now to the ground, followed the glide path, her cheeks still burning red. When Tempest landed in front of the flower shop that was their destination, Wildfire breathed in and dropped the last feet or so, so that her hooves touched the ground at once. Wildfire detected the strong smell of flowers. “I’m guessing we're here,” she said, rather unnecessarily.

“Yes we have,” Airmail said as she landed next to her fiancé, “And with a minute to spare, too.” Not wasting a moment, Tempest approached the weather-beaten cream coloured shop front, with its two wide glass windows showing off all the flowers that were on sale in the shop. Hoofing open the door, they were all greeted with the ringing of an old brass bell mounted above the door.

Dandelion, a very harassed looking fifty two year old cream coated earth pony stallion with a pleated shoulder length mint green mane and a single red rose cutie mark, looked up from behind the very rustic wooden counter of his flower shop. Everything except the cash register and the computer system was rustic and old, with ancient looking wooden shelves all around that held hundreds of flowers. “Hello, hello!” He greeted the three mares with a practised but genuine smile. “Welcome to Dandelion's Flowers, how can I help you lovely mares today?”

Tempest, who was straight to business, trotted over the creaking hardwood floorboards up to the counter. “Do you deliver to the Cloud District?”

Dandelion, sniffing a sale as sure as he sniffed the many varieties of flowers that adorned his shelves, nodded; “I certainly do Ma'am, I have a pegasi assistant that handles those deliveries.”

“Excellent,” Tempest said, looking around the shop and getting a good look of the wares on sale. Her blue eyes settled on the chrysanthemums and the stack of shelves marked ‘rarities’ next to it. “Your shop comes highly recommended. I'd like a dozen chrysanthemums arranged, plus I understand you have some exotic, yet tasty flowers for sale too?”

Dandelion’s ears perked up, his light blue eyes twinkling. “Certainly,” he took his pencil in his mouth and scribbled some notes on a pad he kept on the counter. “When would you like them delivered? And yes Ma'am,” he waved his cream coloured hoof over to the right wall, to the rack full of the rare flowers. “My rarities are all there.”

“They’re for Mist and Lighting,” Tempest said before giving the flower seller her parents’ address in the Cloud District. “I’d like a dozen assorted rarities to complement the chrysanthemums, please.”

Now, Dandelion’s ears perked up as erect as a pegasi’s wingboner. “A dozen? Any particular variety? I have a mountain avens, which only grows in the Ghastly Gorge,” he pointed to a delicate purple flower, “this pasqueflower is only found in the Everfree Forest and this chequered flower here is fritillary and it has protected growing sites in Appleloosa.”

Tempest looked over at the flowers, making her mind up. “What colour chrysanthemums do you have?”

“I have; white, yellow, green, purple, red and orange currently in stock.” Dandelion answered quickly, not even having to look at the shelves to know what was there. “My boy's in the back sorting them out if you'd like to take a look?”

Tempest did look, but she couldn’t decide on just one colour, they were all enticing. In the end she decided to leave it up to the very pleasant old pony. “I’ll trust in your judgment, but I think two of each colour and then complementary flowers to go with them in the arrangement. The key is they all have to be eatable. My mom just can't resist flowers.”

“As you wish, Ma'am, they're all edible, of course.” Taking a few more notes on his pad, Dandelion turned and called through the curtain to the back where his large storeroom / warehouse / seedling nursery / break room was kept and where his son and his coltfriend were currently ‘working’ for him. “Oils!” He shouted, “Get two of each colour chrysanths in a basket arrangement!”

Brush Stroke’s voice, familiar to the three mares stood in the shop front, came back with an equally loud shout. “Alright, you got it, dad!”

While all this was going on with Tempest and Dandelion at the counter, Airmail led Wildfire around the shop, allowing her to sniff at all the pretty flowers. Tempest looked over her shoulder at the little blind mare as she sniffed and investigated every shelf she could reach. The violet weather pony turned back to the stallion behind the counter. “By the way, is Sir Bounce-A-Lot still in business on Fourth and Main?”

“He is indeed, Ma'am,” Dandelion nodded with a smile as he worked his customer’s order at the cash register. His light blue eyes went wide, which he hid as quickly as he could. He was about to make as much money now as he had all week so far. “That’ll be seven hundred and fifty bits for the chrys's and another eight hundred bits for the rarities, please.”

Tempest was impressed, very impressed. She made a mental note to tell her friends about this rustic flower shop, as well as come back for more. “My, that seems like a generous discount,” she smiled, pulling out her debit card from her saddlebag.

“Well,” Dandelion smiled as he took the card from her and completed the transaction, “I haven't seen you in here before and all new customers get twenty five per cent off, because I say so. So, you like rare flowers, Ma'am?” He asked, passing the card back to its owner.

Wandering around the shop, Wildfire had to stop in front of the rack that happened to hold the rare varieties. The sheer avalanche of smells and scents was just overwhelming, she didn’t know where to sniff next, every inhalation brought new exotic scents that she’d not encountered before. “What’s this?” She asked, pointing a wingtip to a flower, “I've never smelt anything like this!”

“I do love flowers and I think making my mom guess what they are will be part of the fun.” Tempest replied, sparing Wildfire a smile as Airmail read out the flower names and described them to her. “I'm a former resident of Trottingham, I moved out almost twenty years ago to Manehatten. That is where I met the artist that recommend this establishment.”

“Oh?” Dandelion asked before he put two and two together with a grin, “Oh I see, you must be Oils' friends, he and his coltfriend said you'd be dropping in today. Now, if you really love flowers, I simply must show you this one,” with that, he called through to the back a second time. “Dusky, your friends are here, bring me the catalogue!”

A couple of seconds later Dusky, wearing a simple plain green dress along with her ever-present light blue collar and her charcoal grey mane tied up in its usual pony tail, bustled through to the shop front carrying the catalogue on her back. “Hey guys!” She greeted her friends as she dropped the heavy book on the worn wooden counter top.

Airmail giggled and Tempest just smiled at the old cream stallion. “Oh well, I was hoping to string that out a bit longer. Greetings Dusky, you are looking rather lovely today.”

“Thank you, Miss Tempest,” Dusky nodded with a smile. “As do all of you,” she giggled, “you even made Miss Wily presentable.”

“Wildfire spent hours in the bath earlier,” Airmail giggled while Wildfire raspberried her best friend. “With me.”

“Aaah I see,” Dusky giggled as she walked over and affectionately nuzzled Wildfire’s cheek. “The collar suits you by the way.”

“Dusky!” Dandelion rolled his light blue eyes and forced himself to breathe through his nose. These young ponies… “Those chrys's need arranging...now shoo!” He chased the midnight blue pegasus back into his back room before turning back to Tempest who was struggling - and failing – to not snicker. “Now, this is what I wanted to show you,” he said, hoofing open the catalogue to a page that showed a bright red / orange rose.

Curiously, Tempest looked at the picture and was immediately struck with awe at the sheer beauty of this very unusual flower. “That mixes passion with desire, correct?”

Dandelion was very impressed with the younger pony in front of him. She did know her flowers, and the significance of colours. “It does indeed. It’s called a wildfire rose, and there's only a dozen of them in the whole of Equestria. There's an earth pony in Ponyville that breeds them.”

“Well,” Tempest commented, “with your son moving to Ponyville, that should give you ready access…” she lowered her voice conspiratorially, “speaking of roses, do you have lavender ones?”

“I have all varieties in stock except that one…” Dandelion gazed longingly at the open catalogue like he was looking at an adult magazine from MiAC. “I'm hoping Oils can set me up with the mare that breeds them.”

Over by the flowers, Wildfire paused in her investigatory sniffing and perked her ears up. “Hey, did I hear a rose with my name on it?”

Tempest sighed and shook her head. “I don't think you can get copyright infringement on that, Wildfire.” Still shaking her head, she borrowed Dandelion’s pencil in her mouth and wrote out her request for three lavender roses each with a ribbon bow – she added it was okay to use two ribbons each - one purple and blue bow, one purple and yellow bow and finally one blue and yellow bow. Quietly, she passed the note to Dandelion with a wink.

With a smile, Dandelion took the order and, noting the ribbon colours and his new customer’s coats, his smile widened. A romantic at heart, he was touched by the gesture. “That’s not a problem Ma'am, you'd like these to take away with you?”

“Yes please,” Tempest answered before turning back to her little lover when a thought occurred to her. Something she recalled her two herd-mates talking about while she had been busy with breakfast with her dad. “Wily, didn’t you have a question for Dandelion?”

When the sounds of a little crash and a lot of giggling came from the back room, Dandelion winced and leant over the counter and asked, with a slightly desperate look in his eyes; “And, will you be taking those two ponies with you when you go?”

“We really haven't made definite plans yet,” Airmail said, “but we do plan on getting together today at some point.”

Tempest heard the crash, and the unmistakeable sounds of smashing flower pots meeting the floor, and felt very sorry for the old earth pony. “If they want to join us at Sir Bounce-A-Lot, they are more than welcome.”

Dandelion shook his head and tried not to think about how much money had just been splatted all over his storeroom floor. It was bits he could sorely afford to lose. “I love my son to death, but I've had him and Dusky 'helping' me all morning. For the love of my profit margin and my sanity, please take them and this order will be free.”

“Hmm?” Wildfire, her nose buried in a box of daffodils she had just found, stood up when she heard Tempest’s not-so-subtle reminder of her thing she wanted to ask. “Oh! Oh yuppers, Mr. Dandelion, me and Airy are getting married on the fifteenth of next month in Manehatten, is there any chance can you do the flowers for it?”

“Consider them removed, at least till you close.” Airmail promised with a giggle.

Trotting around the counter – with a noticeable limp due to the large ugly scar that ran the length of his thigh to halfway down his left hind leg, Dandelion breathed a sigh of relief as he carefully pulled a tray of roses from one of the shelves and, bringing back to the counter he started to assemble the order of lavender roses. “Ladies, you have my eternal thanks, and these roses. Now young lady,” he smiled, addressing Wildfire, “you asked about wedding flowers?”

“Yuppers,” Wildfire approached the shop’s counter which, adorably, was taller than she was, “can you deliver them to Manehatten?”

“Well…” Dandelion considered that for a moment, and, for a moment he was going to say no. However, the obvious hopeful look on the tiny blind mare’s face just made him want to hug her forever and a day. Plus, they were his son’s friends and his lover’s friends. That made them family, and you went extra for family. “It is slightly outside my usual delivery range but it’s doable, certainly.” To Airmail he asked, “Are there any flowers in particular you like?”

“Roses of course,” Airmail snickered at the disparity in height of Wildfire and the shop counter. It truly was the most adorable thing. “A mix of pink, white and red. I think daffodils would be nice as well. It would be like Wily's mom is there with us. Then can we have a mix of yellow, purple, and blue orchids to balance things. What do you think of that, Tempest?”

Tempest was stunned by that, but admittedly not entirely surprised. She’d known Airmail long enough to know that she’d have planned as much as she could by now. “I think somepony has been giving this a lot of thought.”

“Y'know, that does sound pretty awesomes Airy!” Wildfire squeaked while Dandelion, again with his pencil in his mouth, furiously scribbled down a raft of notes on a clean sheet of his notepad.

“Of course,” Airmail smiled, “input from the florist would be most welcomed.”

Dandelion looked up from his notes once they were complete and he leafed through the catalogue that Dusky had left on the counter until he arrived at the wedding section and turned it around so that Airmail could see the packages that he did. “Of course, Miss Airy, Miss Wildfire.” He pointed to the packages displayed on the pages for Airmail’s benefit. “I do three tiers of package: Simple, which is a bridal bouquet, bridesmaid’s bouquets, buttonholes and corsages. Then there's Elegance which is the first package plus ceremony arrangement, pedestal arrangement and thank you bouquets, after that there's Opulence which is all the other packages plus cake flowers and a top table garland. The prices naturally go up with each package.”

“Wily married me for my money!” Airmail threw up her forehoof to her forehead and sighed theatrically. “I knew it!” Tempest giggled as the azure blue mare continued, “It’s about time we put that army pension to good use.”

Wildfire giggled at her fiancé’s antics. “So, Mr. Dandelion, what are the prices, please?”

Dandelion, to his teeny amount of embarrassment, found he had to check the catalogue to be sure now. It had been a while since he had supplied flowers for a wedding. “The Simplicity package is three thousand seven hundred and fifty bits,” the cream florist paused, moving his hoof down the page so Airmail could see, “Elegance is a straight nine thousand bits and finally the Opulence package is fourteen thousand eight hundred and fifty bits.”

Tempest turned her head sharply to Wildfire’s direction when the little blind mare whistled at the prices as they were being read out. “You spent more on your fancy flight suit, you know.” She said bluntly, feeling a little sorry for the nice old stallion’s faint blush.

Airmail studied the sample pictures that were pointed out to her as each package was read out, “Is that with costs to send it to Manehatten?”

Dandelion did a very quick sum in his head, estimating fuel costs and such like. He’d never done a job that far away before now. “Let’s see, transport and arranging the bouquets at the location will be one thousand five hundred bits extra, Ma’am.” He had to resist the urge to bounce on his hooves at the prospect of such a large order.

Airmail smiled and shook her head. She couldn’t believe how cheap these admittedly beautiful flowers were. “I love small towns.”

Tempest let out a bright little giggle, “You see, that is why I brought you here.”

Wildfire had her head cocked to one side, deep in thought. She knew Tempest was right in that she had spent a ton of money on her flight gear and for that matter her home computer system without a second thought than these flowers cost. With that in mind, she made her decision. “Are you happy with that Opulence one, Pretty?”

Airmail nuzzled Wildfire’s cheek and nodded her head so that her diminutive lover could feel it. She was pleased Wildfire had chosen that one, for she too wanted the best package on offer. “Dandelion, that package there would cost between twenty to twenty five thousand bits in Manehatten. Do it right, and I'll pay eighteen thousand bits for the whole deal. I'm only getting married once, Wily.”

Dandelion was a little giddy. Almost lightheaded. “Ah…nineteen thousand and I'll get a wildfire rose for the little lady too.”

Tempest couldn’t help but laugh out loud, though she meant no offence by it. “Now he haggles!”

Airmail chuckled, her brown eyes alive with mirth. “Which one of us is the 'little lady'?” She asked playfully.

“Ah now, you see, you're both fair ladies,” Dandelion covered himself just in time, “but Miss Wildfire here is the little one, I'm afraid.”

In a sing-song voice, Airmail danced around the flower shop, singing; “I'm the big sis! I'm the big sis!” As a response, Tempest simply facehooved and tutted.

“I take it that makes you the mother, Miss Tempest?” Dandelion asked between his chuckles.

“Yes,” Tempest admitted, “Mother Hen.”

“One of us has to be sensible,” Wildfire giggled, “And you do it so well, Honey.”

Smiling, Dandelion busied himself with finishing the assembly of the three lavender roses and their ribbons that the violet weather pony had requested. “Here’s your order, Miss Tempest.” He passed the roses to Tempest, who placed them securely in her bag. To Airmail he asked, with slightly shaky hooves, “Do you want to go ahead and order the wedding flowers, Miss Airmail?”

“Yes please,” the azure blue mare said definitely, “That’s one less item on the list. Wily, we'll use Caffy's caterer that he uses for the Open Mic night.”

“Alrighty,” Wildfire agreed straightaway, for she really had no idea about any of that at all. “That sounds good to me, Pretty.”

“Excellent!” Dandelion exclaimed happily. He’d just made more in this one day than the whole of the last month. Then again, he wasn’t working here because he needed the money. It was therapy. Much needed therapy. His flowers helped soothe many demons. “I've got all the details down, I just need a delivery address and your contact details, please.” Quickly, Airmail took up the florist’s pencil and scribbled down her details and the details of the zebra Hall in the Broncs. “Brilliant. Now, are you paying a ten per cent deposit or the full amount today, Miss?”

Airmail nodded, “Will fifty per cent today and the rest on the first of next month be okay?”

Dandelion had to fight the urge to leap over the counter and kiss the azure blue pegasus in front of him. Admittedly with his bad leg it would be a pretty slow leap. “That's totally fine!”

“I can always do the other half, Airy?” Wildfire suggested, trying to be helpful.

Airmail stepped in close next to her diminutive fiancé and draped her right wing over her back, hugging her tight and adding a very wet, very hot lick up the inside of her ear for good measure. “I’ve got the wedding my love, you can cover the honeymoon.”

“That’s a deal, Pretty.” Wildfire’s legs went all wobbly in just the right places when her ear was licked like that, and it left her struggling to stand straight. “I um, I had a thought about that, actually.”

“Good,” Airmail smiled, nipping the tip of Wildfire’s ear, “you're a big part of all of this after all.”

“N-NaaAAAH st-stop that!” Wildfire squeaked, though there wasn’t much in the way of conviction in her voice. “I-I've always fancied a sea cruise, y'know on one of those big boats like we saw in the Vanhoover Maritime Museum the other day.”

“That would be fun,” Airmail agreed, deciding for the time being to abandon her assault on the yellow ear before her. “I hear the food is great!”

Wildfire let out a very, very girly squee that Airmail liked her suggestion. “Yay! I'll investigate one on my computer when we get home!”

Smiling at the antics of her marefriends, Tempest sensed it was time they were going. The day was after all wearing on, and they had places to be, things to bounce on. “Dusky! Oils!” The violet mare raised her voice and shouted to the flower shop’s back room. It was also time to free Dandelion. It was the least they could do. “It’s time to go, dears!”

Just then, as if on cue, there came an almighty crashing noise from the back storeroom that could only be a wooden shelf collapsing, ceramic smashing and soil hitting the floor. Dandelion winced like he’d been shot. “Please...keep them…” he put a cream forehoof up to his head. “Don't send them back, I beg you!”

Brush Stroke smiled sheepishly as both he and Dusky emerged from the back through the separating curtain, ignoring the fact that there were flower petals in his yellow and red mane, as well as the broken plant stems falling from Dusky's dress. “We aren't that bad, dad.” He tried to protest, although a glare from his father quickly silenced said protest.

“True, it could be far worse,” Airmail snickered, “they could be moving back home with you.”

Tempest shook her head and stepped up to Dusky, casually flicking the remains of a poor unfortunate flower from her charcoal grey mane. “You two are our chaperones for the day.”

Dandelion looked aghast. “Please don't joke about that, Miss Airmail, I’m not sure I could afford the insurance on my shop.”

“Never fear, Sir!” Tempest declared, “The Power Ponies are here!” She even made a pose for good measure. “Stealth Pony, take the targets outside please. On Time, you have the six.”

Wildfire turned to lead the way out of the flower shop, idly wondering why there was a very ‘peaty’ smell to her best friend all of a sudden. “C'mon D, Oils, this way,” she trotted to where she remembered the door was.

Dandelion sighed a deep sigh of relief as he reached for his brush. “Thank you so much, Miss Tempest.”

“You'll miss us, dad!” Brush Stroke called as he trotted out of his father’s flower shop after Wildfire.

“I will once my storeroom is back in order!” Dandelion groused.

“We'll try to have them home before the curfew.” Airmail snickered, holding the door open for Dusky. Mare’s first, after all.

“Judging by that crash, the longer the better, Miss Airmail.” Dandelion tried to sound cranky, but deep down he knew he wasn’t really. “Have fun boys!” He called after his son and his coltfriend.

“We'll keep them entertained.” Tempest promised before she too trotted out of the shop with her purchases secure in her bag.

“Thank you, again.” Dandelion moved to see them all out of his shop, purely to assure himself that they had in fact removed his son from the premises. “Thank you for your bits. I hope your parents enjoy their flowers, Miss Tempest.”

“Airy,” Dusky said to the azure blue pegasus once they were all walking along the sidewalk towards their next destination, hanging back a little so that they wouldn’t be overheard by the others, “may I walk with you for a moment?”

Airmail perked up her ears straight away. The use of just her nickname instead of the submissive ‘mare’s’ usual honorific gave her cause for concern and told her the royal pegasus had something important to say to her. “Stormy,” she called up ahead to her marefriend, “Can you take Oils and Wily to Sir Bounce-A-Lot while Dusky and I do a bit of recon?”

“Sure,” Tempest nodded, “but you'll have to deal with the hyperactive Wily when you catch us up.”

As Brush Stroke, Tempest and Wildfire walked off ahead of them, Dusky’s whole attitude shifted, the ‘mare’ giving way to the stallion. “Thank you, Airmail.” Dusk’s tone was all seriousness, “how was Wily earlier? My Mom called me this morning, told me she'd had a nightmare last night.”

“She did, and she told me about it.” Airmail replied, watching her fiancé’s black tail disappear up the street. Again she noted the tone of Dusk’s voice. She knew without having to ask who she was talking to. “Did Luna help her through it?”

“No.” Dusk answered with a shake of his head. “No, that's what caught Mom's attention. She said she was watching Wily's dream, and she was about to intervene when apparently Wily altered her dream of her own accord. She conjured up you and rest of your herd herself.”

Finally, when she couldn’t see her lover anymore because of the distance and the pedestrians on the sidewalk, Airmail turned to face her friend. “I'm very proud of that mare. She has broken Amethyst Glory's hold over her. Her dream was being beaten and then put in the box, only to have the herd show up and stop it and protect her.”

Dusk Melody flinched visibly at the mention of the box. As claustrophobic as any pegasus, Dusk had been physically sick when he’d seen the actual box when they’d raided the care home. He didn’t need to think of it again. “My Mom didn't give me those details, confidentiality and all that, but she told me how she ended it herself.” Dusk shed a little tear for his best friend. “Mom's real proud of her for doing that.”

“You know Wily and I are getting married,” Airmail decided on a change of subject. “We’ve set a date of June the fifteenth, next month. You and Oils will be invited, of course. Coffee Bean will officiate the wedding during the full moon meeting at The Hall in Manehatten.”

“Thank you, Airy.” Dusk chuckled, “Mom and Mum would like to attend, I'm sure.” His tone once more became serious. “I know I don't have to do the whole 'don't hurt my friend' speech, but, please don't hurt her.”

“I'll not disappoint her.” Airmail answered quickly, a grim serious smile on her face. “As for hurting her though, yeah, I'm going to do that just because I won't disappoint her.”

Dusk laughed out loud at that, now walking with his friend to catch up with his lover and his friends. “I know what you mean, Airmail, and it’s good enough for me. I really hope you're both very, very happy.”

~ ~ ~

“Oils,” Airmail said loudly as she and Dusk – now firmly back in his preferred persona of the submissive mare – caught up Brush Stroke, Tempest and Wildfire half way down Main Street, “How did introducing His Royal highness, Son of Princess Luna, Dusk, Prince of the Realm, go with your sire?” She asked with a cheeky grin, a grin only made wider by Dusky’s eye-roll reaction to his official title.

Brush Stroke laughed and nuzzled his mare, not missing a step. “Well, it could've gone a lot better, and at the same time a lot worse. Dad was outraged at first, he launched into a huge tirade and threw a lead crystal vase at him. My Dusky was amazing. Took it all in his stride.”

Tempest raised an eyebrow at the mid blue earth pony artist. “Did he miss?” He must have, for there were no glass cuts on the midnight blue pegasus’s fur.

“Yes,” Brush Stroke replied, “Though only just. Dusky didn't so much as flinch or raise his voice once.”

“Good show, Dusk.” Airmail complimented her friend although, knowing what she knew of his special training with Luna as part of the secret and shadowy Night Watch, she supposed she shouldn’t have expected anything else. “Did you catch the vase?”

“Yes I did,” Dusky replied quickly, falling into step just behind her dominant stallion. “Then, I gave it him back and told him to throw something less valuable next time. Starbright laughed at that, and I was in with him.”

Tempest gave Dusky a hoof bump at that to show her appreciation of such a move. “Well played, Dusky.”

Wildfire giggled as she felt the mid afternoon sun on her fur, “you do have your moments, D!”

“Every now and again, yes I do.” Dusky agreed.

Pausing on the busy sidewalk for a moment, Brush Stroke wrapped his forehooves around Dusky’s neck and pulled his mare into a very tight hug. “She’s my total hero. And to think I was so nervous about the meeting, too.”

Airmail smiled at the couple that were obviously so very much in love. “Your other father seems to be a very organized pony. For a stallion,” she added with a giggle.

“Dandelion?” Brush Stroke asked with a little snigger in his tone of voice, “he is when we aren't messing up his storeroom. I've seen his flowers though, I know your wedding will look beautiful, Airy. I also know you truly made his year when you asked him to provide those flowers for your ceremony. Thank you.”

“I'm sure they will,” Airmail giggled as she casually inspected her hoof, “unless he should regain his two assistants...”

Dusky looked absolutely outraged at being tarred with the artist’s brush. “I wasn't the pony who kept wanting to make out instead of arranging flowers, and who wanted to make out among the arrangements of flowers.”

“You need to file that information away, Dusky.” Tempest laughed good-naturedly, giving the midnight blue pegasus a knowing wink, “It is obvious that flowers make your stallion 'frisky'.”

Dusky giggled, “Miss Tempest, I already have.”

Brush Stroke smiled as they all started once more to trot along Main Street towards their destination. They could’ve stayed there forever in that moment, but ponies were giving them evil stares for blocking off the sidewalk. “Well, flowers, his flank...anything he says and does…”

Wildfire, in her usual position of following Tempest’s black tail, giggled. “It sounds like somepony has it bad.”

Dusky arched her eyebrow at her best friend’s comment. “And you don't?”

Airmail snickered at the interactions between the best friends. Walking behind Wildfire, her brown eyes zeroed in on the little yellow mare’s swaying hindquarters, eagerly catching a glimpse of her marehood as it was tantalisingly revealed with each swish of her tail. “Oh, I'm sure she is only attracted to my ass....ets.”

“Amongst other things,” Wildfire said, her tail subconsciously swishing side to side for her lover’s benefit. Especially when she felt breath on her ass. “Though it’s mainly her ass.”

“And here I thought she fit your hoof like a glove.” Tempest interjected, her blue eyes alive with mischief.

“Stormy!” Airmail gasped, disbelieving that her marefriend had gone there.

“Yuppers!” Wildfire giggled, swishing her tail just a teeny bit wider for her fiancé’s benefit, “there is that too.”

Tempest snickered, very pleased with her little self that her teasing had apparently worked so very well. “Whaaaat?” She whined playfully, steering Wildfire around an old stallion tottering with his walking frame.

Like Tempest, Dusky couldn’t resist a little teasing. “So, who hoofs who?”

Brush Stroke gasped, as unbelieving as Airmail was. “Dusky!” He gave his submissive mare a not-so-gentle swat with his hoof on her pert shapely butt.

“What?” Dusky asked with a smile, and a little wince at the stiff slap. He had deserved it, he knew that. “I was only asking.”

“That is a good story for Gaming Night when we have a break.” Airmail stated, effectively ending that little conversation when she saw Wildfire’s ears slick back to her head and her shoulders droop. It was time for something else, as she didn’t want her sad. “I don't care if the herd hears the story, but it was an 'eye opener' for both Wily and myself.”

Ahead of her, Wildfire dragged her hooves as she walked. “Ha, ha, yeah, especially for me, Pretty.”

Walking slightly behind and to Brush Stroke’s side now, Dusky quickly and easily read the signs and body language of his best friend. “Please forgive me, I’m sorry I asked.”

“Don't be,” Airmail said brightly, “I can't blame your curiosity. It is an interesting story to be told, and I think Wily is the one to tell it. I'd just rather it was in a different setting than this one now.” Namely in the middle of Trottingham Main Street with many bustling ponies who could potentially overhear whose no business it was.

Wildfire was so stunned at that she stopped mid-step. So suddenly did she stop that Airmail almost walked into her ass. “Airy, you want me to tell everypony about that?” She paused, about to carry on when mercifully her cell phone beeped from her saddlebag. “Oh, thank Celestia...” she whispered before pulling out her phone and scanning through the text message with a hoof. “Oh! Raid and Darkie have arrived at Caffy's place!”

Tempest barked out a laugh, “I'm sure the city of Manehatten thanks Air Raid for her contribution to the police fund.”

Brush Stroke turned to Tempest, confusion on his mid blue muzzle. It was obviously an in-joke he didn’t know about. “What's this?” He asked curiously.

“Oh it’s nothing,” Wildfire replied as she fired off a quick reply to her ex-marefriend and put her phone away in her bag before they all carried on towards the bouncy play place. “Air Raid just has a liberal view of speed limits, that’s all.”

“Liberal as in they are optional.” Airmail put in with a smile.

“Aaaand here we are!” Tempest declared to the group once they arrived at the spot on Fourth and Main. With the front façade of Sir Bounce-A-Lot looking like a twenty foot high stylised cartoon castle, complete with very bright garishly coloured characters bouncing all over, it was admittedly hard to miss. Tempest was surprised even Wildfire couldn’t see it, it was that in your face. In a good way, though.

“We're here?” Wildfire bounced on her four hooves on the sidewalk outside the play place. Now they’d stopped she could hear the sounds of over-excited foals and smell the popcorn and fizzy drinks that emanated from the building in front of her. “Yay! We’re here!”

Dusky, somewhat bemused at the blatant over-the-topness of it all, rolled her pink eyes. “Oh yes, Wily this is very you.”

“Yuppers D!” Wildfire squealed in pure delight, all those memories of the times her mother had taken her to the bouncy castles in Canterlot flooding back in force like an inflatable tsunami, “It’s bouncy fun! Very 'me'. Honey, how did you know about this place since you lived in the cloud district?” Wildfire asked, suddenly very curious.

“I was less old once.” Tempest answered sarcastically, which earned her a gale of laughter from Airmail as she entered, trotting into the bouncy play place, and was immediately assaulted by a wall of noise from the many, many foals and adults playing on the various inflatable toys. She could only imagine what it must feel like for Wildfire who, she noticed, had huddled close to Airmail upon following her in. “Oh good, it is still one admission for all the fun!” With that, she paid the stallion at the booth for the three of them.

Dusky turned to her stallion. “Sir, do you want to go in?”

“Yes,” Brush Stroke checked the time, “I believe we can spare an hour or so, come on, my darling mare.” Smiling, as it was difficult not to, the earth pony paid for the two of them and they followed after the three mares.

As they walked deeper into what was labelled ‘the Fun Zone’, Airmail and Tempest both filled Wildfire in on what was here. The little blind mare was soon to learn that they had it all; three bouncy castles, two inflated slides, bouncy basketball, bounce boxing and even a bouncy bungee pull. “Airy,” Wildfire turned her head left and right, “Please point me to the bouncy castle, love.”

Tempest held out her hoof and pulled her excited marefriend up at the saddlebag storage area, where they safely stowed their bags on their own individual cubby holes and, where they could get themselves each a set of special socks. “Here Wily,” Tempest passed her a set of blue and purple ones, “you’ll need to put on the padded hoof socks first.”

“Oh…oh yeah, of course I do,” Wildfire giggled as she pulled each padded sock over her hooves. “I’m sorry I forgot.”

“What do you want to do first?” Airmail asked Wildfire once they were all socked up and ready to play like the overgrown foals they were, “Care to challenge me to the bungee pull?”

“You're on, Pretty!”

Airmail led Wildfire to the back of the line for the bungee pull, which thankfully wasn’t very long, and in a matter of a few minutes it was their turn. The Sir-Bounce-A-Lot earth pony stallion who was watching the bungee gave them both a brief look over to make sure they were padded up before letting them on. “You get three goes and then the next pair is up.”

“I'll go easy on you babe,” Wildfire smiled as she let the stallion point her to the pull.

“You want the left or the right lane?” Airmail asked.

“I’ll take the left, please.” Wildfire replied, and the stallion guided her down the inflatable lane where they put the collar on her attached to the bungee cord.

“Go!” The stallion called out after a countdown from three, and the two pegasi galloped off up the centre of their respective lanes, each with a bean bag held in their mouths. Airmail, who had a lot of lower body strength, easily overtook her diminutive lover and placed the bean bag on the Velcro strip that ran down the middle of the lane.

On the second run, Wildfire galloped off like a crazy pony, giggling like a filly around the bean bag in her mouth. Seeing her effort, Airmail 'slipped' and allowed her to win the second of the three runs. From the side lines, Tempest cheered both of her marefriends on all three runs. Coming up alongside the violet weather mare, Dusky and Brush Stroke both performed admirable cheering duty for them both too as Wildfire ran off again with the bag, laughing so hard she dropped it when she was pulled back by the cord tethered to her.

“Hey Stormy,” Dusky giggled as she watched the two pegasi gallop along their lanes on their third and final run, “It looks like we have two overgrown fillies on our hooves.”

Tempest nodded, the mother hen in her getting concerned when Wildfire was swiftly yanked backwards by the cord on her back, but breathed a relieved sigh when she laughed it off. “Airy believes that growing old is mandatory, but growing up is optional.”

“Airy shares outlooks with my Mom then.” Dusky smiled and noted the collar that Wildfire was wearing around her neck. “That’s nice work on the collar too, it suits her.”

Brush Stroke also noted the collar. “I notice it’s both of your colours. That’s a nice touch.”

“Wily actually bought it and gave it to us as a present.” Tempest replied, explaining the collar to her two friends. “She also got a pink one for Mapper to put on her.”

“Aww!” Dusky let out a girly squee and even clapped her hooves in joy, “that's so sweet! Sounds like she knows what she wants.”

As they both came trotting over, out of breath and sweaty from the bungee pull, Wildfire giggled to the much older pegasus, “C’mon, you must've won that third run Pretty.” She turned her head about and sniffed where Tempest was standing. “What shall we do now?”

Tempest had the answer straightaway. “Bouncy castle!” Getting a nod from Airmail and a very loud whoop of delight from Wildfire, the violet pegasus led the way to the nearest and largest of the bouncy castles. The one she chose was as brightly coloured as the rest of the place, designed for early adult ponies it had multiple rooms with lots of passages and slides, walls to climb over and a very large ball pit in the middle.

“Here is your helmet, Wily.” Airmail said, passing the diminutive mare a bright blue padded soft helmet, a safety precaution in case she ran into another pony while she was playing.

“Thanks, Pretty!” Once the helmet was on and securely buckled, Wildfire was off like a little yellow and black rocket. She had an absolute ball as she began feeling her way round everything. While Airmail stayed near to her, bouncing about, Tempest moved off to explore the area. Eventually, after ten minutes of bouncy exploration, Wildfire fell face first into the unexpected ball pit, seeing as nopony warned her it was there. “Wahoo!” She exclaimed as she resurfaced.

Cannonballing in beside her as if it were a swimming pool, Airmail started splashing many multi-coloured balls at her like she would in an actual pool. “Ball fight!” Wildfire squealed happily, splashing them back – not caring that most of them missed – and giggling like an idiot.

“Are you sure you don't want to join them?” Brush Stroke asked as he and Dusky sat at a nearby table, close enough that they could see the fun being had but far enough away that they could converse at a normal volume.

“No Sir,” Dusky smiled at his partner, “I'm fine sat at this table, with the drink that you'll get me in a moment.”

While Brush Stroke did just that, and got drinks for himself and his mare, Tempest joined the two of her herd-mates in the ball pit in as equally a boisterous fashion as Airmail had, tossing balls at each of them as she landed. “Aha!” Wildfire exclaimed, “A fresh target!” Thumping her forehooves into the balls, she splashed them everywhere in all directions. Seeing the fun, a few other random ponies joined in the ball war, sending balls whizzing past all concerned.

“So,” Brush Stroke started as he sat back down at the table, setting the coffees between himself and Dusky, “Do you want to go to the orphanage today?”

Dusky nodded, taking her coffee in her hoof and wishing it was tea, but not saying anything about it. It wasn’t the end of Equestria. “Yes,” she nodded after taking a sip, “I'm really keen to adopt.”

“Filly or colt?”

“I'm not fussed, my love,” Dusky replied, a group of foals playing over in a shallow ball pit catching her eye. “Although a colt would be nice.”

“I agree,” Brush Stroke nodded thoughtfully, as he too had seen the foals playing and he decided that he wanted some of that. “A colt would be different, besides everypony else we know is having fillies.” He took a sip of his hot coffee, “Do you have a preference on tribe?”

“Absolutely none at all,” Dusky replied with a giggle, “Although, if we adopt a unicorn we'll complete the set between us.”

Over in the ball pit of the largest bouncy castle, Wildfire scooped up several balls in her forehooves and, laughing like a giddy filly, she threw them all in the direction where she thought a pony was. A split second later she was rewarded with a squealed giggle as the soft plastic balls hit their target. “This is the best. Fun. Ever!”

Airmail giggled, dusting herself off from the grievous impact of the multi coloured plastic balls. “No fair! She’s using Wily sense to hit me with the balls!”

Wildfire snorted a laugh as balls hit her from multiple angles, diving under the balls and surfacing close to where Airmail was. “Wily sense only works if you're covered in chocolate…” she shuddered at that thought, “hmmm Airy chocolate...”

Picking up a bright orange ball, Airmail bopped her lover’s nose with it. “I'm not taking a bath in chocolate!” She giggled playfully and kissed the bopped nose. “Well, chocolate milk, maybe.”

“No fair using distraction tactics!” Wildfire laughed amidst the balls while Tempest threw balls at the others playing with them, picking off a few stragglers. “You wouldn't bath in chocolate for me? Even if I licked it off afterwards?”

Airmail smiled, “We can talk about food play another time.”

“Alrighty!” Wildfire laughed, launching up into the air and splashing a wave of balls about when she landed.

After a further twenty minutes playing in the bouncy castle’s ball pit, Airmail and Tempest decided, through a series of ear flicks directed at one another, that they wanted to go and do some bouncy boxing. The violet pony waded over to Wildfire in the pit and nuzzled her cheek. “Have you ever boxed, Wily?”

“Nopes,” Wildfire shook her head, after returning the affectionate nuzzle, “But I'll give it a good go!”

“See Airy,” Tempest laughed, “Wily is into three way action.”

“Well that I definitely like,” Wildfire replied, “But shouldn’t we box first?”

Airmail chuckled at that. “See, Stormy, she is detail oriented too.”

“Priorities, my lovelies.”

A few more ear flicks between Tempest and Airmail and they were both very much in agreement. “Which would be escaping the castle.” Airmail smiled and, making her way to her little lover, said, “Secret agent Wily, we must use stealth to escape.” In a loud not-so-secret whisper she continued, “And maybe tie a ribbon on Stormy's tail, too.”

Rolling her blue eyes, Tempest nonetheless had a grin on her face as she exited the ball pit and headed through one of the many inflatable passages that lead to the exit of the bouncy castle. Wildfire saluted solemnly, “Orders received, Ma'am. Stealthiness mode engaged!” Airmail then tapped her lover’s muzzle lightly with her green tail as she too left the ball pit. As stealthily as she could, Wildfire followed the direction of her tail, catching a faint scent and giggling like a filly.

“Target acquired.” Airmail gave Wildfire a very, very passionate kiss once they had left the bouncy castle. The kiss left her with a length of ribbon in her mouth. “Target is three meters ahead putting on boxing gloves. I'll distracter her by putting on gloves.”

Wildfire nodded. “Hmhmm!” In what she imagined in her head as pure invisibility, she tip-hoofed forward towards the ‘unsuspecting’ target.

Trotting up to her marefriend who was stood by the blow up boxing ring, Airmail selected a pair of gloves for herself to wear. “Stormy,” she said loudly, “I hear that Wildfire is Canterlot's boxing champion.”

“Really?”

Wildfire sniggered, knowing that was the ‘signal’. Creeping forward until she picked up a faint waft of Tempest’s scent and a quick brush of her black tail wafted over her nose, she took the ribbon from her mouth and managed to successfully tie the ribbon around her dock. “Ta da!”

“I've been ribboned!” Tempest exclaimed, fully playing along with the little game.

Airmail snickered behind her gloved hoof. “You'll be an easy mark in the ring now, Stormy!”

Beaming a very wide smile, Wildfire was genuinely pleased with her little self and her achievement. “And, no fridges were harmed this time!”

Tempest giggled and admired her new tail adornment. “By Luna's left hind hoof, Wily, that is true!”

While Airmail giggled like the overgrown filly she was, Wildfire reared up and made what she saw in her head to be a heroic Power Pony pose. “Stealth Pony!”

“Well Stealth Pony,” Tempest said with a grin, “You’d better get your boxing hoof covers on and we'll see if you're still Canterlot’s champion.”

“Alrighty, Honey!”

Airmail and Tempest both – with a tiny degree of difficulty due to their own gloves covering their hooves - helped Wildfire put her gloves on. She found that each hoof covering was as big as her head and super soft. Once they were secured by the Velcro straps, she was led into the round circular bouncing area. “I got them to let all three of us in at the same time because I told them you were blind.” Airmail said a little hesitantly, “I hope you don’t mind, Wily.”

“Wait…what, I'm blind?” Wildfire asked in a very faux panicky voice as she bounced softly on her hind legs, “Damn and nopony told me!” She giggled and gave her fiancé a long kiss. “Of course I don’t mind, babes.”

“Okay,” Airmail breathed a sigh of relief, “I wasn't sure if it was a super-secret super power of the Stealth Pony.”

“As long as nopony knows my secret identity then everything's fine,” Wildfire said in a very loud stage whisper as Airmail guided her into the centre of the ring first, while the floor was extra bouncy, making it hard to stay on her hind hooves. Wildfire snorted out a giggle as bounced about. “Woah…way better than being drunk.”

A second later and Wildfire felt a pony that smelled a lot like Tempest bounce right next to her and bop her on the head. “Eye of the Storm strikes first!” She cheered.

“Ah! I’m wounded!” Wildfire giggled, giving Tempest a bop back to the right where she thought she still was. When Wildfire missed completely and went face first into the bouncy ring, it quickly degraded from a boxing ‘fight’ into a bouncing free for all. Pushing herself up, Wildfire missed again and went down, laughing so hard that a tiny bit of wee came out.

While she was getting up again, Wildfire heard Tempest and Airmail bouncing and going after each other a little bit to her right. Unsteadily on her hooves, the little blind mare threw a bop to the right, connecting with a pony’s thigh. “Gah!” Airmail cried, “I'm under friendly fire!”

“Aha! I gotcha now!” Wildfire aimed another bop in the general direction of Airmail's shout and she felt a pony bounce in right next to her sending her flying with the sudden rebound. “Whoop!” She squealed happily as she landed on her back, winded slightly from the fall.

The free for all continued for in this vein for a further fifteen minutes until a whistle sounded and the Sir-Bounce-A-Lot stallion that was supervising them finally called time to allow the others that were waiting a turn. “Aww,” Wildfire pouted playfully as she was led from the ring and the hoof covers removed, “That was the best fun ever!”

“I see how you got your title,” Tempest giggled, removing her own gloves before helping Airmail with removing her own.

“We can have another go later.” Airmail nuzzled her sweaty giggly fiancé and gave her a quick kiss. “Now, it’s time for the slide.”

“A slide!?” Wildfire was instantly distracted by the prospect of a slide. “Wahoo!”

Over at their table, Dusky and Brush Stroke, having finished their drinks had got themselves another round and finished that one too while they watched the three mares playing. “The mares seem to be having fun,” Brush Stroke commented with a smile on his face, “You know, if you want to check out the orphanage now, we can go…”

“Alright love,” Dusky smiled, appreciating just how nervous her usually very confident stallion sounded. “I'll just go tell Tempest we're going.”

“Going to join us on the slide, Dusky?” Airmail asked when she saw the midnight blue pegasus trot their way, skilfully dodging the few excited foals that ran across her path.

“Hey Airy,” Dusky was intending to tell Tempest, but seeing as Airmail had spoken, the effeminate stallion answered her instead. “You having fun? Oils and I are going to go check out the orphanage. We shouldn't be too long though, maybe an hour or so, do you want to meet up after?”

Tempest came over, grinning mischievously, “You promise to not go to the flower shop?”

Dusky laughed brightly, “I'll even Pinkie promise we won't go to the flower shop.”

“Okay,” Tempest snickered, “That’s good enough for me. Say a late lunch around three this afternoon?” She asked, “Alfalfa's is a nice place, I'm sure Oils knows it.”

“Okay,” Dusky replied, “Three p.m. it is.” The royal pegasus grinned when she saw the dishevelled lump of yellow fur that was Wildfire. “Is the little filly having lots of fun?”

“Yuppers!” Wildfire beamed, “And so are the big fillies!” She ran over to the large inflatable slide and, climbing up without waiting for any help, she slid down the forty foot drop, whooping in sheer delight at the lots of humps that caused her to get some air on the way down. It was real earth pony fun, but she kept her wings closed and experienced the same sensations. “Yahoooooo!”

“That's my Wily.” When she turned and ran back up the steps to the top of the slide, she was accompanied by her marefriend and her fiancé, Dusky went back to where Brush Stroke was waiting by the table. “Stormy says to meet up at Alfalfa's for a late lunch at three.”

“Oh I know the place,” Brush Stroke replied, nuzzling his mare before they headed out of the play area to the orphanage that was across town.

After Dusky and Brush Stroke took their leave, Airmail, Tempest and Wildfire enjoyed a further two hours of almost non-stop bouncy fun. There were a couple of drinks breaks, which Tempest insisted on, but apart from that it was alternating between the bouncy castle, the bungee pull and the boxing. By the time they had completed the third round of boxing, Wildfire found she was way better at tracking her two herd-mates as they were all so sweaty they were lit up like scented Hearths Warming trees. “Who's ready for lunch?” Tempest asked as they left the ring for the third time.

Almost on cue, Wildfire’s belly made a very audible rumble at Tempest’s question. “Me!” She squeaked with a hungry giggle, “I could eat you!”

Tempest licked her lips at that, then she leant in and licked Wildfire’s ear. “Maybe I can be dessert later?”

Airmail, a look of outrage on her sweaty face, closed in on Wildfire’s left and licked that ear before her fiancé could recover from the first lick. “Moving in on my wife before we're even married…”

“Gaaaah…” Wildfire had to really fight her wobbly legs to remain upright. “M-Maybe you can both be dessert?”

Airmail nodded at that, “Only if I'm hungry enough.”

“Or…or I'll be dessert for the two of you lovely mares?” Wildfire asked as suggestively as she could manage.

“I can't think on an empty stomach!” Airmail wailed dramatically, her hoof once more at her forehead.

Wildfire snickered, “Stormy! We have a severe case of hungryitis. It might well be contagious. We should treat it with the only known cure. Food, lots, to be administered orally.”

Tempest laughed at that, playing along. “Okay, then Alfalfas here we come!”

~ ~ ~

Alfalfas, as it turned out to Wildfire’s surprise and great interest, was a huge all you can eat salad bar joint situated at the far end of Main Street. After they had secured themselves a booth near the large window at the front, Airmail had led Wildfire up to the self-service counter to investigate what was on offer. Some deliberation later, and they were sat back at the booth with their chosen selections. Tempest had gone with a rainbow slaw with tahini dressing, Airmail had chosen a marinated cauliflower and sprout salad with tomato dressing while Wildfire had her brown rice and mixed vegetable salad with basil dressing in front of her.

“So...Alfalfas…” Wildfire spoke up after trying to take a bite that encompassed a bit of everything at once and getting it all over her yellow muzzle, “That’s that stuff you like to feed ponies, right Honey?” She asked just as Dusky and Brush Stroke trotted through the door.

Tempest snickered, leaning in to tongue wash her lover’s muzzle clean. “It’s a type of grass, and for some an ‘acquired’ taste.”

Wildfire let out a little pleasured ‘hmm’ noise and returned the kiss before Tempest pulled away so they could both breathe. “You know me, Honey, I’ll try anything once.”

It took but a moment for the newcomers to spot their friends situated in the booth by the window and once they did, Dusky came skipping over, apparently in a very good mood indeed. “Hey guys!”

Tempest looked up from her rainbow slaw and in a split second she could tell two things by the royal pegasus’s most ‘un-royal’ greeting and his attitude in general. One, that the orphanage visit had gone well and two, that he was not currently in his ‘mare’ persona. A quick ear flick with Airmail confirmed this thought. “I hope this humble establishment will meet your Canterlot standards.”

Wildfire, about to dive back into her brown rice, paused and put on her best Canterlot voice. “Yes well, one can slum it for a little while, can’t one?”

Dusk and Brush Stroke both laughed at Wildfire’s very accurate noble accent as they sat down opposite the three mares. The mid blue earth pony stallion took the window seating pad. Tempest waited until they were both sat comfortably and looking for menus until she spoke up again. “It’s self-service. Go help yourselves to the bar, they have durian, Dusky.”

“Oooh I’m definitely having a bit of that!” Without having to be told, Dusk Melody got up and, smoothing down his simple green dress, trotted over to the nearby salad bar. Selecting two trays, he walked along the packed counter before he made his choices. A creamy potato and snow pea salad for Brush Stroke and a glazed pear and goat’s cheese salad for himself, as well as a durian for them both to enjoy afterwards.

Brush Stroke watched his lover with a little giggle, “he's so well trained, isn’t he?”

Airmail nodded, chewing a mouthful of cauliflower. “Training is important in emergency situations.”

“Like Airy needing ice cream.” Tempest snickered, even more so when her marefriend stuck out her tongue at her.

Brush Stroke considered that seriously for a moment as he watched Dusk’s swaying dress-covered ass sway up and down the service counter. “Everypony needs ice cream, that would qualify as an emergency situation, Tempest.”

With one tray on his back and his partner’s held in his mouth, Dusk returned to the table and slid the one in his mouth over to Brush Stroke. “Here you go, love.”

“Thank you,” Brush Stroke gave his younger partner a kiss of thanks before investigating his plate, he noted the extremely smelly durian had a light green glow around it. He assumed, correctly, that this was to prevent its odour stinking up the place, however he suspected it would be nullified when he bit down. He wisely saved that for last.

“So,” Dusk asked as he sat back down at the table after removing his own tray from his back, “how'd you two manage to crowbar Wily out of the bouncy place?”

Tempest, who had just swallowed a mouthful of her rainbow slaw, answered before Airmail had a chance. “Nopony was able to talk over the noise of her grumbly tumbly.” She emphasised her point by pointing a hoof at Wildfire’s belly and making a very loud rumbling sound in her throat.

“It wasn't that loud,” Wildfire pouted adorably.

“Oooh…” Brush Stroke snickered as he helped himself to the complimentary bowl of assorted bread at the table, “is that what that rumbling was? I thought it was an earthquake.”

Dusk sniggered at that, especially at the outraged look on his best friend’s face, which was particularly funny as she didn’t know who to be outraged at the most. Tempest or Brush Stroke. “Hey!” She settled for trying to ‘look’ at both of them before she burst out in giggles.

“You're right Stormy,” Airmail said, looking over at the service counter, “they do have some weird stuff here. Some things I haven't seen since my military days.”

“Like what, Pretty?” Wildfire asked curiously.

“Well, for a start, this durian is from Chimera,” Airmail started, “And this bread here on the table is from Zerbrifica. And that…” she pointed over to a large bowl of very unusual snow white salad flowers, “I'm not sure what it is, but I saw it last in the Crystal Empire years ago.”

Tempest took a look over and saw what her herd-mate was pointing at. “It's Ice Lotus,” she said definitely.

“How do you know that?” Airmail asked.

“There is a sign for everything,” Tempest pointed to the sign she was talking about while Airmail facehooved at having missed said sign.

Wildfire cocked her head to one side, deep in thought. She’d not come across that particular flower before, but she might’ve at one of Amethyst’s parties, but she wasn’t exactly paying attention then. “I've never heard of it, I'll try it though, it sounds yummy Pretty.” Then she thought on what Airmail had said, about the military. “You were in the Crystal Empire? Were you serving?”

“Training exercise,” Airmail corrected after she swallowed a mouthful of her salad, “And it wasn't the Empire then, it was still just a frozen wasteland.”

Wildfire nuzzled up to her left, cosying into Airmail’s warm flank. “I bet you were awesomes in your sexy uniform…”

“She was sexy in her awesome uniform,” Tempest put in helpfully, earning herself a giggle from the azure blue mare.

Wildfire giggled, “Have you still got it?”

“Why...”

“Stormy...” Airmail said warningly as Tempest gave her a loud raspberry. As it happened, she did still have it, though it was a bit of a tighter fit now than it used to be when she had been younger. “Yeah, I have it, Stormy likes me to play dress up now and again.”

“Can we play that too?” Wildfire asked with a bright red blush on her cheeks, “Cos that'd be fun…”

“Yes love,” Airmail smiled, returning the affectionate nuzzle to her fiancé before helping herself to a hoof-full of the table bread. “But, you will have to be in you maid outfit for me to properly command you about.”

“I'll have the choco chips!” Tempest said smartly.

“Done!” Wildfire declared quickly, “I hope those chips behave this time!”

Brush Stroke chuckled when he heard that. “You should see my Dusky when she wears her maid's dress, I could watch her all day long.”

Dusk flicked his charcoal grey mane that was still tied up in the tight ponytail. “You have done, twice already.”

Tempest reached for her coffee that had been sitting on the table untouched all this time. “Blindfold her next time and then you can have even more fun watching her try to clean up something.”

Wildfire made another adorably cute little pout. “I still say that was unfair!”

Brush Stroke however found the idea most intriguing. So much so he had to squeeze his hind legs together as he ate his salad. “Hmm, sounds interesting...”

“Of course it was unfair,” Tempest rolled her blue eyes, “But I don't think you complained afterwards, now did you?”

“Well no,” Wildfire’s pout immediately dissolved into a fit of giggles. “I really don't think I did, did I?”

Brush Stroke chuckled, giving his lover a gentle nuzzle. “Thanks for the tip, Stormy.”

“Fantasy fun.” Tempest snickered as she emptied her mug of coffee.

Dusk smiled at that, “Fantasy fun is best fun, Tempest.” He took a moment to eat a couple of mouthfuls of his salad before turning to address his best friend. “So, Wily, how was the bouncy?”

“It was amazing!” Wildfire answered with a very hyper little giggle, “It was almost the best fun ever!”

“She sure could bounce, too.” Airmail smiled as she gave the diminutive yellow mare a loving kiss on her cheek.

“It was so brilliant!” Wildfire exclaimed happily, the pure joy evident all over her heavily scarred face. “We had a ball pit splash war, and we boxed and everything!”

Tempest gave Dusk and Brush Stroke a long hard look. “I think the two of you would have had fun too.”

Brush Stroke laughed, a brilliantly teasing idea for a wind up coming to his mind. “Ah, Tempest, I’m afraid it was too risky without a questionnaire to weigh up the pros and cons of 'fun'.” While the others all laughed at that, Dusk raspberried his partner and made a very good imitation of a Wildfire pout.

“Yeah,” Airmail said, still laughing from the artist’s dig, “Bouncies is a high risk endeavour after all.”

“Ugh…” About to take a bite of his salad, Dusk dropped his fork and facehooved hard. “There isn't ever going be a thing where that damn questionnaire isn't bought up, is there?”

Seeing his partner a little upset, Brush Stroke nuzzled him and kissed his midnight blue ear. “We had fun Tempest,” he giggled, “The Trottingham City Orphanage thought they were being inspected when we visited them earlier.”

Tempest eyed both stallions very carefully. “I do hope you didn't keep up that pretence, boys.”

“Oh no,” Dusk shook his head vehemently at that. “We made sure we put them straight right away, Tempest.”

Satisfied, Tempest shrugged her shoulders, “I don't really have any experience with that side of Trottingham.”

“No?” Brush Stroke asked. He had to admit he didn’t have much experience with the orphanage either, seeing as he was adopted by Starbright and Dandelion when he had been three years old twenty nine years ago now in two thousand and one. “It really is a very well kept place.”

Dusk took a mouthful of his salad and chewed it thoughtfully, mindful of what he was about to say and his audience. “You do hear all these horror stories about orphanages and such like, but what impressed us most was that all the foals were really happy.”

“My experience at the orphanage in Vanhoover wasn't bad,” Airmail commented as she took a sip off her coffee, “But I only spent two weeks there. I was introduced to Rye and Bluesky after a week. We did some play dates. Other than Rye being an earth pony and myself being an idiot, it went well.”

Wildfire immediately picked up on the slight change in her older lover’s tone and she hugged her with her wing to cheer her up. “Well, you're my sexy idiot now!” She kissed up her cheek to her ear until she heard a giggle.

“There were a few foals, fillies and colts, we saw but this one little colt really stood out for us.”

Brush Stroke nodded at that. “He's a thoroughly adorable little white unicorn with a purple mane and hazel brown eyes.”

Hearing that, Tempest was heaving with barely supressed mirth. She just couldn’t help herself. She had to. “So, an earth pony and pegasus walk into an orphanage…”

Airmail too was struggling valiantly to keep a straight face. And failing, miserably. “They come out with a unicorn!”

“I know Serenity plans on having a unicorn,” Tempest said when she finally stopped laughing.

“My Wily is looking for a pegasus.”

“Yuppers,” Wildfire nodded heartily at Airmail’s comment before she carried on, “I'm looking forward to teaching her flying lessons.” She giggled brightly before she went for her own black coffee, “what's his name?”

“Ivory Wind.” Dusk answered his best friend, “he's two years old and he has this big adult sized dark brown fedora.”

Brush Stroke smiled as he pictured little Ivory Wind in his mind’s eye. “He looks so cute, it is cute watching him trying to wear it, when it slides down over his head and all you can see are the tips of his white ears.”

“And sixty years from now he will have the very same, but very worn, fedora.” Airmail commented before she emptied her mug of its caffeine loaded contents.

“I've no doubt he will,” Brush Stroke nodded, confident in his friend’s assertion. “Apparently it’s all he was left with.”

“He never lets it out of his sight, bless him.”

Tempest perked her violet ears up, very interested, when Dusk said that. “Did you learn the history behind it?” She asked curiously before delving back into what was left of her rainbow slaw on her plate.

Reluctantly, Dusk shook his head. “We asked the earth pony mare in charge, Miss Tenderheart, but all she knew is that Ivory Wind was left in the hat in a wicker basket outside the orphanage and they found him the next morning.”

“It’s the typical 'left on the doorstep' story complete with a note asking the orphanage to care for their son.” Brush Stroke put in grimly, trying very hard and succeeding, to keep his raging emotions on the subject in check.

Airmail chewed her mouthful of salad thoughtfully for a few moments, her head to one side. “Must be some sad story behind that.”

“Maybe,” Brush Stroke said sadly, “All we know is, it was a pegasi stallion who dropped him off eighteen months ago when he was six months old.”

Wildfire perked her ears up at that, suddenly catching on to what the mid-blue earth pony had said, and particularly the way he’d said it. “Um…how'd they know that, Oils?”

“The orphanage staff saw it on the security camera outside when they reviewed the tapes the next morning,” Dusk explained, his tone as saddened as his stallion’s sat beside him at the table.

Airmail placed her fork back on her now empty plate. Her ears were slicked back and her tone was terse. “I hope it wasn't some ass like I was. Pegasus family having a non-pegasus foal and deciding they aren’t interested.”

Dusk Melody looked down, intently studying the table top. “Tenderheart, the owner, suspects it was just that Airy.”

“Ivory…” Brush Stroke started, sounding even more saddened than he did before, in fact he sounded on the verge of tears right then. “Ivory wasn't…in the best of health, when they took him in, Airmail.”

At that, Wildfire’s ears pricked right up, standing very erect. “You mean, he'd been neglected?” She asked, rare anger colouring her tone.

Dusk turned to frown at his partner for saying something like that, especially in front of Wildfire, especially given her recent past history with abuse and neglect, but he couldn’t be angry with him, not when he had such a sorrowful look on his face. “No Wily, nothing like that…” he said no, but he nodded and mouthed a silent 'yes' to Airmail and Tempest.

Tempest nodded solemnly, getting at once the Prince’s meaning. “It is hard to raise a non-pegasus up in the Cloud District.”

“Yeah,” Airmail also nodded, wishing that there was more coffee in her mug. She needed a drink after hearing that little nugget. “I couldn't figure out why Bluesky gave up the clouds to live in the dirt. No offense, Oils. Love though will enable you to do many things.”

“No offence taken, I assure you, Airmail.” Brush Stroke smiled before he whispered something in Dusk’s ear and the midnight blue pegasus got up and trotted over to the self-service coffee and tea machine for much needed refills. “I ah, I’m starting to see the appeal of clouds.”

“That’s no excuse for not loving your foal!” Wildfire reared up and stomped her forehooves down on the table top, rattling the plates and cutlery in her sudden ire, “I'd love Fireflight no matter what she was! It’s not right!"

“I agree,” Airmail said gently but firmly, running her right forehoof along Wildfire’s back between her wings in order to calm her irate fiancé down. “There is a right way to do things and just dropping off isn't the right thing.”

Breathing heavily from her outburst, Wildfire sat back down between Airmail and Tempest. “I'm sorry guys, I’m just…touchy about that kind of thing.”

“Having been through it,” Airmail said softly as she hugged her lover tight in her forelegs, “I'm touchy about it too.”

Wildfire returned the hug straightaway. “It’s just, I'd give my left wing for a foal, any foal as long as it was mine, and when ponies have them and mistreat them it really pisses me off!” She exclaimed before blushing deeply, “Um...sorry, again.”

Airmail decided the best thing to do was to silence her lover with a kiss. So she did. “We will ensure that never happens to Fireflight or to Hope, come what may.”

“Thanks, Pretty.”

“How many hopes to not only get a foal, but to relocate him to Ponyville?” Tempest asked.

“Or did His Royal Highness grease the skids?” Airmail asked with a smirk when she saw Dusk was heading back their way fully laden down with a tray bearing five steaming hot drinks.

Dusk smiled and took a few moments to properly set the tray down on the table and arrange it so that each pony had the drink for them before once more taking his seating pad. “We had a supervised hour and a half with Ivory earlier, Airy.”

Brush Stroke took his milky coffee and blew away the steam before taking a sip. “Oh, and your supposition of a percussion instrument was entirely correct, Stormy.”

“We're going to be spending the day with him tomorrow,” Dusk lifted up his earl grey tea and just sniffed it, savouring the beautiful aroma, “And no, I didn't once say 'do you know who I am?'.”

Airmail snickered at that, almost choking on her creamy coffee. “Well, I wouldn't fault you to use your position to overcome any paper roadblocks in your way.”

Dusk shook his head, “That’s a slippery slope Airy. No, we'll wait and do it properly.”

“All good things and that.” Brush Stroke smiled, “Besides, the slower we go now, it gives Ivory more time to get used to us.”

Airmail nodded, accepting that completely. She’d been there, she knew how that felt from the other side. “I had a week with Rye and Bluesky before I left with them. Then it took another year to actually accept them as my parents.”

“You were seven when you were adopted though.” Tempest pointed out, rolling her blue eyes at having to yet again be the sensible one of the group. Then again somepony had to be. “Ivory is only two.”

Wildfire wasn’t listening to that. She was sipping her hot black coffee with its two sugars trying to work out what the earth pony artist had meant just then. “Um, sorry, what instrument?”

Airmail, happy once more now that Wildfire was happy and she had her coffee, giggled at that. “Well, when I mentioned percussion to Oils before on the way here he talked about a triangle.”

Brush Stroke laughed, laughed so hard his coffee almost came out of his nose. “Now, a triangle would be my preference, but it seems little Ivory is a natural drummer.”

Dusk Melody simply took a very delicate sip of his tea before he answered. “I'm looking into soundproofing our basement at home.”

Tempest giggled at the memory of the flight here from Ponyville. “At least you are keeping artists alive in your family line.”

Brush Stroke put his coffee down and raised his hoof. “I'd like to point out that we don’t have a basement…”

“We will have a basement,” Dusk interrupted his lover, “And it will be soundproofed.” The fact that Dusk had added extra emphasis on both of the ‘wills’ was lost on nopony at the table.

“Stormy, if it’s his talent,” Brush Stroke smiled as he took up his coffee once more, “Then who are we to deny him?”

“Who knows,” Airmail snickered with a shrug of her shoulders, “Maybe the noise will save Ponyville from a monster attack?”

“Yuppers!” Wildfire laughed, “You never know when the Parasprites might come back…”

Tempest looked confused around the table. She’d never heard of whatever it was that Wildfire had just mentioned. She was pleased to some degree to see Brush Stroke equally confused. “Ah, what is a Parasprite?”

Airmail giggled. She’d only ever seen a swarm of Parasprites once in her military career, while on assignment in Saddle Arabia. It had been absolutely devastating. “It’s a bug that’s always hungry and eats a million times its body weight.”

“When you get one Parasprite you get a million,” Dusk explained for Tempest and Brush Stroke’s benefit. He’d seen them in Canterlot once or twice, “They eat and eat until they throw up – that’s how they reproduce - and then they carry on eating until there’s no food left.”

Airmail nodded to Dusk as Tempest was dry heaving from the news of Parasprite reproduction. “What he said.”

Dusk smiled, “The only way to get rid of them is music.”

Just then, when Tempest was about to answer that with what she thought about Parasprites and how she was very glad she hadn’t as yet encountered one – or a million – Wildfire's phone beeped from her saddlebag. Quickly retrieving her cell phone, the little blind mare discovered it was a text message from Air Raid. Checking what it said, she groaned audibly and checked it a second time to make sure her braille app was working right. It was. “It’s Raid…Oh no…no, no!”

Airmail snapped her head so sharply in Wildfire’s direction she almost gave herself whiplash. “Wily, what, what is it?” From her tone, she feared a car crash, or worse.

“She's got sponsorship to enter the San Palomino Run next year!” Wildfire wailed, “she's insane!”

“Oh,” the gears in Airmail’s mind turned over and over and she put two and two together. “Oh, that is the big annual cross country race, right?” She asked, exhausting her knowledge on the subject pretty quickly.

If Tempest was confused over the Parasprites, she was really confused now. “Um, I thought Air Raid was a race driver, right?”

“It’s just the most dangerous race in Equestria, Stormy,” Dusk explained, only knowing what the San Palomino Run was because Vocal Chord used to watch it when they were together.

“She is Stormy,” Wildfire sighed, resting her cell phone on the table and reaching for her coffee, “she's always had this crazy assed dream to enter and win that race. She's gonna get herself killed!”

Tempest, like Airmail, had no idea how dangerous this race was. She’d only just found out it existed at all. “How many died in last year's race?”

“Ten,” Wildfire replied. She only knew that because Lotus Stripes liked to watch it.

Brush Stroke had to admit, he once again shared Tempest’s confusion. “Ah, why enter at all if it’s so dangerous?”

“Air Raid wants the 'bragging rights', whatever they are.” Wildfire snorted derisively. “She isn’t even doing it for the prize money!”

“Hard to believe Equestria would allow such a dangerous race,” Tempest thought out loud.

“Life is dangerous,” Airmail shrugged, “And I think you'd all have to have more faith in Air Raid.” Airmail smiled, finding it a teeny bit strange that here she was defending Air Raid and her driving skills.

“I have faith in her driving ability, my love, I really do,” Wildfire gave an exasperated sigh and banged her forehead on the table top. “But after the Palomino Desert there's the Badlands and Celestia knows what’s in there and she's gonna get killed to death!”

Seeing her fiancé getting upset again, Airmail again gave her a tight hug. “If she had to die, would that be the way she'd want to go, or to waste away in her old age reeking in a bed somewhere?”

Tempest considered that for a moment. Of course, she knew her herd-mate was right, of course she was. Still, she could see Wildfire’s point of view too. She’d only just welcomed her ex-marefriend back into her life, after all. “We can always do aerial reconnaissance over the race, too.”

“I'm sure between us we can keep an eye, or several, on her for you, Wily.” Dusk offered in an attempt to be helpful.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who're the sponsors?” Brush Stroke asked curiously. From what he’d gathered from the text exchange on the journey here, Air Raid and Darkstar had only been in Manehatten for a few hours. He was impressed indeed to think she’d managed to secure sponsors in such a short timeframe.

“Apparently it was Caffy, Mr. Baron and your paper, Airy.” Wildfire answered quickly without having to check back with her phone.

Airmail smiled and shook her head. “That sounds like Thespian's hoof-work right there.”

“Uh huh, you're right Pretty.” Wildfire nodded before she put her cell phone away in her bag. “She ended the message saying there's a race this coming Sunday that she's entering to show Thespian she's good for the sponsor money.”

That did interest Tempest, at least a little bit. She’d heard all this talk about how good Air Raid was, she was interested in seeing for herself just how good she was. “Did she say what race?”

“Four hundred and fifty Horsepower Open.” Wildfire replied quickly.

“Sorry,” Tempest shook her head, “That means nothing to me.”

Dusk and Brush Stroke both shared Tempest’s mystified look. “Same here, Wily.” They said almost together in unison.

Wildfire sighed, dredging through her memory to the races she had watched all those years ago when she had been dating Air Raid and had taken an interest in her career. “It means any car can be driven in the race as long as its engine is less than four hundred and fifty brake horsepower.”

Now Tempest was really interested, though really no more knowledgeable. “Where will she be driving this car?”

Wildfire had to actually check her phone for that, as she hadn’t scrolled all the way down the first time. “She says it’s at the Manehatten Stadium, the race starts at two p.m. Sunday afternoon.”

Tempest looked from pony to pony at the table. “I didn't even know Manehatten had a stadium.” She admitted, and she’d lived in the city years.

“Don't look at me.” Airmail shrugged her shoulders and judged it was her turn to go and get the refills, which she did. “I cover politics, not sports.”

“Well,” Brush Stroke said as he gratefully accepted the refilled milky coffee, “I've painted the stadium but I’ve never actually been in it.”

When a sudden thought came to her, Wildfire fired of a text message to Air Raid, to which she got a quick reply. “Apparently, the race on Sunday is to let the other drivers know just who she is.”

“How many comp tickets can she get?” Tempest asked.

Reaching into her own bag, Airmail pulled out her tablet and scanned her way through a few screens as she navigated the internet. “Let me see if there are tickets left, Stormy.”

“I'm interested in going,” Brush Stroke said into his lover’s ear as he kissed his way up it to the tip. “How about it, Dusky?”

“Yes,” Dusk nodded after a moment’s thought, “It should be a good afternoon out, love.”

Airmail snickered as she looked through her webpages. “And here I thought you two had a basement to build.”

Dusk simply smiled at Airmail’s comment, though she couldn’t see it. “No, hunky work stallions have a basement to build. There’s a difference.”

“Are there any tickets left, Airy?” Wildfire asked, taking a large sip off her sugary black coffee as her fiancé investigated the upcoming events at the stadium.

“Yes,” Airmail said quickly, scanning her way down the screen to the available tickets. “There’s quite a few, actually.”

“Then would you like a day at the races?” Wildfire asked, purring as sexily as she could manage.

Dusk thought for a moment before turning to his older lover. “We could take Ivory, have a little family day out? Wily,” he said, turning back to his best friend when Brush Stroke nodded that he thought it was a good idea, “Did Raid say how Darkie was?”

“No,” Wildfire shook her head at that. “Hang on, I'll ask…” taking up her cell phone, there followed much texting between Wildfire and Air Raid, punctuated by a couple of laughs and a brief pause when the little blind mare took a drink of her coffee. “Apparently, Darkie came on to Caffy so hard in the coffee shop that she offered to dance for him, and after being shown round their place she went for a nap as her meds made her drowsy.”

Airmail giggled at that, picturing in her head the pretty slender white unicorn trying to seduce Caffeinated in his own shop. “I'm sure that made Thespy laugh.”

Wildfire at last put her cell phone away in her bag and again reached for her coffee. “Seriously guys, you wait till you see her dance.”

“Wily, I didn't mean that,” Dusk sighed heavily, “I meant how is she reacting to mom's course of dream therapy?”

“Very well, she said,” Wildfire replied as she took another sip of her coffee. “Raid said she hasn't been as down since Sunday, and after she was healed her general outlook seems a lot brighter.”

Tempest had a very mischievous thought then, based on what Wildfire had said about her friend coming on to Caffeinated. “Any takers on Darkie getting lucky?”

“Yuppers! I'm in on that!”

“I remember her dances,” Dusk smiled, very sure of the fact that Darkie would indeed get lucky. “I'm definitely in.”

“She's that good?” Brush Stroke asked, not quite believing anypony could dance that well.

“No,” Wildfire answered seriously before Dusk had a chance, “She’s better than good.”

That made Brush Stroke’s mind up for him. “I'm in too!”

“It was a sucker bet!” Tempest snorted out a loud laugh, “Okay. Does anypony say it won't be tonight? And the closest time wins the pot. Time must be on the quarter hour, so no sniping.” The violet weather pony paused for thought and, before Airmail could jump in, she said; “I'm going for seven forty five p.m. tonight.”

“Curse you!” Airmail exclaimed as Tempest stuck out her tongue in triumph, “I'll take seven thirty p.m. tonight then.”

Wildfire placed her bet. “I'll take eight p.m. tonight.”

“Seven p.m. tonight,” Dusk made his choice.

“In that case,” Brush Stroke said when all attention came to him, “I'll go for tomorrow night, seven thirty p.m., just to be contradictory.”

“All bets duly noted.” Tempest announced as she input the notes in her phone for later reference. “Oils, if Caffy resists tonight you're a shoe in then. Everypony pony up one bit.”

Reaching into the pocket of her saddlebag that held her purse of lose change, Wildfire got hold of a bit and pulled it out and laid it on the table. “If Caffy resists tonight then he's as blind as me.”

Doing likewise as his friend, Dusk hoofed over two bits, one for himself and one for his partner. “I remember she gave me a wingboner once, although I thought she was a stallion at the time,” he added when he saw the questioning look on his stallion’s face.

Airmail snickered as she too put her bit on the table. “As long as Darkie doesn't mind a threesome.”

Dusk chuckled, “I can’t see her minding in the least.”

“However did you think she was a stallion, love?” Brush Stroke asked curiously, wondering how in the world that worked.

“Oh...” Wildfire blushed a little at that, not realising of course that Brush Stroke had no idea of events that had happened between her friends all those years ago. “It was a desire spell. We had a party at Dusk’s suite one time when Darkie danced and cast that spell. Everypony who saw her saw the pony they desired the most instead of Darkie.”

Tempest imagined that for a moment, then she imagined a few other things. Then she imagined the possible scene in Caffeinated’s ranch later. “I bet Caffy would just love to do it with two Thespians at once.”

Dusk chuckled, “I'm sure he would too, Darkie was very gifted at that spell.”

“Do you remember D, Slingshot was the only pony amongst us who watched that dance and saw Darkie?”

Dusk nodded seriously, “I remember, Wily.”

“Really?” Airmail asked, catching Tempest’s attention with a couple of quick ear flicks, “Well that certainly explains a lot. What exactly did Slingshot do that night?”

Wildfire didn’t answer right away. She cocked her head and took a few minutes to properly remember. It was after all a long time ago and a lot of stuff had happened since then. “Um, as I remember, he took her to one side after the dance was finished and they had a really heated discussion, though neither would tell any of us what they said.”

Reaching over Wildfire’s back – as she was so small – Tempest laid her left forehoof on Airmail's right shoulder and slightly shook her head. Airmail got the message. “I guess he must not have liked being fooled by the spell.”

Looking between Airmail and Tempest, Dusk and Brush Stroke both noticed that the two pegasi mares must surely have ear mites the way they were flicking at each other. Waving quietly to get Tempest’s attention, Dusk pointed a hoof to his ear and made an exaggerated shrug, mouthing 'what?'

Wildfire too shrugged, “I dunno if he was fooled, Pretty, I do think that Darkie thought he was mocking her, like her spell didn't work on him or something like that.”

Tempest looked over the table at Dusk and shook her head, raising her hoof to her lips to make sure the royal pegasus stayed silent. “I'm going for some more salad,” she announced loudly as she flapped her wings and hovered to the floor beside the table. “Back in a moment.” Waving her hoof for him to follow her to the self-service counter she trotted off.

“I'll bring us back something nice,” Dusk promised his earth pony stallion as he gave his nose a quick kiss a he got up and trotted over to where Tempest was waiting for him.

Fully aware of Wildfire’s keen hearing, Tempest made sure to keep her voice low so that only Dusk could hear what she was saying. “What if Slingshot really loved Darkstar?” She asked, quickly following up her opinion before the Prince could interrupt, “Darkstar loses half of her horn in the nasty attack. What if Air Raid just made up the excuse that Slingshot left the racing team because of her spending time with Darkstar? What if Slingshot reacted the same way Air Raid reacted to Wildfire being blinded? This is not good dinner conversation, Dusk.”

“Yeah...” Dusk’s pink eyes went wide with understanding as it dawned upon him. “I get how that's all sorts of messed up. I can see it working too, and I can also see how Raid would cover it up.” He looked over at the table and at his best friend. “We need an emergency change of subject, Stormy.”

Nodding solemnly, glad they were in agreement, Tempest scooped up a bowl of bread and returned to the table. “Wildfire,” she said loudly, “I got you some more of that Zebrifican breadfruit you liked.”

“Oooh thanks!” Wildfire squeaked happily, instantly distracted from thoughts of Slingshot and Darkstar. “I do love this stuff!”

“Oils,” Tempest followed up quickly as she set the bowl on the table and hovered back over to her seating pad by the window, “You're well-travelled, right? Do you speak any languages besides Equestrian?”

Brush Stroke nodded to Tempest’s questions as Dusk sat back down with a bowl of poached pears for them all to share. “I can speak Prench a little, and I know a few phrases of Germaneic too.”

“Better than me,” Tempest conceded, “I can speak some Caneighdian Prench. Airy though speaks Zebran.”

Dusk, picking up a pear, made short work of it before he commented; “My Mom's been trying to teach me that. She keeps trying to feed me language dreams all the time.”

Picking up a piece of the breadfruit, Airmail giggled impishly, “Maybe she wants you to talk to her the way Coffee Bean does…”

“Airy!” Tempest exclaimed, thoroughly unprepared for that remark, “Bad pony. No biscuit for you.”

“I agree,” Dusk laughed, “Bad pony, Airy!”

Wildfire, who had just bitten off a chunk of the breadfruit she had picked up, promptly snorted and choked on said breadfruit. “A...” she coughed and eventually swallowed, “A-Airy!”

Sat on the other side of the table nursing his coffee and a poached pear, Brush Stroke caught on to the distraction tactics being employed and did his best to follow suit. “Oh...career highlights!” He declared like it was a bonus round in a cheesy gameshow, “Stormy, what's yours?”

Tempest gave her herd-mate a sly sideways glance over Wildfire’s back. “Easy. Being shot by Airy.”

Airmail rolled her brown eyes. “He said Highlights, Stormy, not lowlights.”

Tempest shrugged and helped herself to some breadfruit. “I got you out of the deal, didn’t I?”

Recovering from her choking fit, Wildfire sniggered, “That’s still best story ever, next to D and the Questionnaire.”

Now it was Dusk’s turn to roll his pink eyes, which he did to great effect, before he finished his pear and decided to try the breadfruit. “Was there any particular reason you shot her or was it just the thing to do at the time?”

Airmail nodded to her friend, “She was being a complete, one hundred per cent, asshole.” She stated very bluntly and honestly.

“I thought she was trying to kill me and missed.” Tempest commented thickly, her words slurred with her mouth full.

“I don't miss at less than a thousand meters.” Airmail stated coldly.

Tempest swallowed her mouthful of breadfruit before she commented again. “She shot one of my primary feathers clean in half.”

“So!” Dusk commented after taking a long sip of his earl grey tea, “for future reference, we don’t be arseholes around Airy.”

“Agreed, my love.” Brush Stroke snickered, picturing the scene as described in his head. “I suppose mine has to be getting my paintings displayed in the Manehatten City Hall.”

Airmail simply smiled very sweetly and disarmingly at Dusk. “Well, it all depends on if you need a new one,” she said with a wink.

From one assassin to another, Dusk smiled equally as sweetly and gave her a wink in return. “And have you ruin one of my dresses?” He asked, the smile evident in his tone, “Why, I think I'd rather play nice.”

Airmail found she didn’t have to think about her answer at all now that it was clearly her turn, “My highlight is coming up on June the fifteenth.”

“Aww!” Wildfire dropped the piece of breadfruit she’d just picked up and instead gave her fiancé a very big hug and an even bigger kiss straight to her lips.

“I’m afraid mine is rather easy,” Dusk spoke up, “It has to be helping Mom officially shut down the care home Wily was in and arresting the staff.”

Wildfire nodded to her best friend in all the world but she didn’t shrink away. “Thanks for that, D.”

Airmail had her head to one side in thought, “I must admit I've never seen the wheels of bureaucracy move as fast as they did that day.”

“Yes well,” Dusk commented, taking a longer draught of his tea, almost emptying it. “That was once instance where we abused our authority, ‘greased the skids’ as it were, to make sure we got the job done.”

“And, they, the wardens, aren't ever gonna get free are they?”

“No Wily.” Dusk stated firmly and definitely. “There’s no parole from their prison. I promise you that here and now.”

Brush Stroke snorted derisively. “Good riddance to bad rubbish.”

Wildfire ate the chunk of breadfruit she had picked up and went in for another piece, chewing that slowly as she thought what her highlight was. “Let’s see…” she tapped her chin with her hoof, “My career highlight has to be the fire at Trixie's Place in Canterlot. That was fun. My personal highlight is marrying my Pretty.”

Tempest snapped her head to Wildfire at that. “I thought saving those ponies lives in the four storey building would be hard to top.”

“That was good, sure,” Wildfire nodded as she thought of Winter and her family in Canterlot and the day she had gotten her cutie mark, “But in terms of sheer scale Trixie's Place wins hooves down. Picture it, a three storey nightclub and the damn thing took three separate fire teams from three Districts and nine whole hours to put out!”

Brush Stroke was very curious at that. “Ah, why did it take so long, please?”

“Magical self-replicating fireworks!” Wildfire exclaimed as she explained, “We’d put them out only for them to re-ignite again and again over and over as if we hadn’t done a damn thing. We had to call in the Palace’s fire team eventually. It three a.m. by the time I was dismissed and I stumbled back home.”

“That was the night Darkie left you a present on your bed, right?” Airmail asked, having been told the story a few days ago.

“Yuppers, it was my nineteenth birthday.” Wildfire replied, “She left me Air Raid and Cyclone, all gagged and tied up with a pretty red ribbon. I was just about to enjoy myself when I got the call to move out and attend the fire.”

Brush Stroke winced, “Oooh bad luck!”

Wildfire just smiled. She could picture it as if it was yesterday. “They were up and waiting for me when I got back. Ugh…I was rank. I was burnt, soot blackened all over and singed in places I didn’t know I had places. I stunk of sweat and heaven knows what else. They met me at the door and bathed me. It was utter bliss…”

Airmail giggled at that, even more so when she took into account what she had done with Wildfire that very morning. “You do like to be bathed, Wily.”

Wildfire too let out a giggle. “Oh, I did that night, to be sure. I looked like Two-Face from the Batmare comics.” She paused and gently tapped her facial scars. “Guess what? I still do…” she was silenced very quickly when Airmail and Tempest both leaned in from either side of her and each passionately kissed her scar covered empty sockets. Wildfire blushed a bright red blush. “Guys...”

“We were going to go back up to the Cloud District,” Tempest announced once the breadfruit was gone and the drinks were emptied for the third time, “Show off my old school to these mares and do some shopping at the same time.”

“Yay!” Wildfire let out a very loud, very girly squee. “Shopping!”

Dusk grinned and shook his head at that, “You three have fun then, I believe we're going to head back to Oils' place.”

“Dusky and my dad are just starting to really get along,” Brush Stroke said with a snicker, as ‘get along’ might well be a bit of a stretch, but at least Starbright wasn’t throwing vases at him anymore.

“As long as you don't go back to the flower shop!” Tempest waved her hoof warningly in the manner of a very strict school mistress at her two friends. “So, do you have room for three more for dinner?”

“Pony Scouts honour!” Dusk declared as he held up his hoof, “no going back.”

“I don't think dad could handle us going back,” Brush Stroke grinned, a grin that got wider at Tempest’s warning glare, “And yes, there's always room for more at dinner.”

“What time should we be expected?” Airmail asked.

“Sir! Seventeen hundred to eighteen hundred hours Sir! In the mess hall, Sir!” Brush Stroke barked out in a very close imitation to an army officer. “And please, don't mind a grumpy old stallion who thinks he's still in the army.”

“See Stormy,” Airmail snickered, “There are still ponies that eat dinner at a reasonable hour.”

“Ahem...yes, well,” Brush Stroke smiled, “is there anything in particular that you'd like to eat?”

Dusk chuckled, he just couldn’t help himself. He considered it payback for all those digs about the Questionnaire. “Oh, Wily just loves her celery, don't you Wily?”

Airmail gasped out, “And peach ice cream! Don’t forget the peach ice cream!”

“Really?” Brush Stroke smiled, “we have plenty of those at home.”

Dusk laughed out loud, more than happy to play along. “Oh yes, you love your peaches too, don't you Wily? Absolutely adores them!”

Leaning over the table to the mid blue earth pony stallion, Tempest said in a very loud stage whisper, “As you may have guessed, those are her two least favourite foods.”

Brush Stroke chuckled and replied with an equally loud whisper. “I had gathered, Stormy.” Even louder then, he continued, “So, that’s celery and peaches for Wily, what about you two?”

“Anything with cheese.” Airmail stated quickly.

Tempest put her order in too, “Pasta for me.”

Wildfire let out a very, very adorable little whimper. “Um, you aren’t really gonna give me celery…are you?”

Airmail decided enough was more than enough. Affectionately nuzzling her diminutive yellow lover to cheer her up, she stood up from the table and gave her a nudge. “C’mon you, let's go see Stormy's old hang outs and do some shopping. We’ll see you both later tonight.”