Sat on her seating pad at Café Diem, Cyclone kissed her marefriend and, as she took a tiny, delicate nibble of her lemon tart, she did her best to ignore the roiling storm clouds that were being arranged overhead by the weather pegasi. “Blue,” she spoke up while she ate, “I'm curious. Y'know our fear right, how bad does it affect you?”

As she too was enjoying her tart, Bluefeather paused in thought. “Fear is something I respect.” She answered presently. “I fear storms but it is my job to deal with them. So I respect storms and what they can do if I fail to respect them. I have a healthy fear of flying in Manehatten because some idiot is paying no attention to their flying. Those are the ones that you find on the ground after hitting a building.”

Then, when she reached for her mocha, she looked straight at Cyclone. “I don't let fear control me, but I respect that fear is real and I deal with it accordingly.”

“Hmm...” Cyclone murmured her agreement around her Celestia coffee, she understood Bluefeather’s reply, but that wasn’t what she had meant. “I ah, I get that, but I meant 'our fear' the uh, the…” she whispered, “The claustrophobia.”

‘Ah…the Pegasi’s Fear,’ Bluefeather thought with a definite shudder, that did not go unnoticed by her companion. “That’s why I'm glad I can fly. Those elevators are just coffins on cables. The trick is to close your eyes keep your wings to your side, then you can imagine the thing is as big as the outdoors.”

“It’s funny,” Cyclone mused thoughtfully, though she noted her marefriend’s shudder. “It doesn't really bother me very much. I dunno why. Perhaps, and I’m just guessing, it might be like that pegasi philosopher said, that the stronger the flyer the worse – more pronounced - the fear.”

“Yeah, that could be true…” Bluefeather nodded thoughtfully as she finished off her tart. If she was honest she didn’t think about their racial fear too much. “Tempest is fine as long as she can move her wings. Airmail is happy in a hole in the ground. I called her a gopher once.” She laughed out loud at the memory of that. “Lance does better in an elevator than me, but he really doesn't like being on the ground. I'll have to see what Wildfire is like.”

“She's really bad.” Cyclone, in a rare move, cut across and interrupted Bluefeather with a very serious look on her face and in her tone. “Like, she’s really, really bad. Before most of the gaming guests arrived at Caffeinated’s place last Thursday we all had a catch up, and she told us about this...this awful abusive care home where she'd been kept the last five years.”

Bluefeather made a mental note about that. “So, that is not a hazing option then. Okay.”

Cyclone shook her head. “No, best not. I nearly didn't believe it when she told me they stuffed her in this lockable box and left her there for days on end…”

Bluefeather shuddered again as Cyclone trailed off, nursing her coffee to calm herself down. “So,” she started, wondering what had lead her lover down this particular thought path, “why the worry about tight places all of a sudden?”

“I’m just curious, babes, that's all, honest.” She nibbled slowly on her lemon tart, finishing it off as she marshalled what she was about to say next. “This one time, I was gonna get one of those rubber isolation suit thingys, y’know, from MiAC, but there's no way I could get it on myself on my own.”

‘Well…I wasn’t expecting that!’ Bluefeather thought, wide eyes blinking once then twice as those words washed over her, slowly sinking in. What she said was, “Oh my, those bind your wings to your side. Never, ever do that on your own! In case you change your mind.”

“I really wanna try one out,” there was an earnestness in Cyclone’s voice, “but Air Raid wouldn't even look at one, let alone touch one, so I left it in the store.” Because, as she reasoned, there was no point buying one if she couldn’t get in it or get it zipped up on her own.

Bluefeather drank the rest of her mocha as she considered her reply to that. Cleary, her marefriend wanted play that was above and beyond nanna and foal, she was fine with that, she could be the dominant, she was sure. But an isolation suit? Essentially sensory deprivation? She had never heard of a pegasus having that kink. It was hot though. “I'm certainly not going to wear it, but if you want to try, go for it. I'll be there to get you out if you panic.”

“Really?” Cyclone smiled, “Really, really? You'd help me out with it?”

Bluefeather let out a delighted little giggle. She did so like that look of giddy happiness on Cyclone’s face. It suited her, she decided. Who was she to deny a pony’s fetish? “I'll even help you try to return it if that isn't your cup of tea.”

“That’s so awesome!” Cyclone squeaked, “Have I ever said before that you're the best? Cos if I haven't, you are!”

Bluefeather casually tapped her chin with her hoof. “Hmm, I can't remember, maybe not often enough, I think.” As she leant over the table and kissed Cyclone’s lips, allowing the kiss to linger, she really did like the way her lover stroked her ego. It was one of the many reasons she loved her.

Cyclone took the kiss and returned it with one of her own. She couldn’t believe her long-held desire for an isolation suit might finally be coming to fruition. “Y’know, I think a red one would look cool against my fur, awesomest pony.”

Bluefeather giggled. She couldn’t help it. Cyclone’s enthusiasm was so very infectious. “So, you want to look like the Matter, ah, hoof?” she ventured, plumbing her admittedly shallow Power Pony knowledge. “Or Mistress Mare, oh, the bondage-looking one, what’s her name?”

Shaking her head, resisting the urge to facehoof, Cyclone laughed. “Teehee, he, he…you mean Mistress Marevellous,” she snickered, “though you did very well for a beginner, love.”

Bluefeather sniffed, affecting an air of indifference. “I did remember two of them dressed in red and it wasn’t Radiance.” Only because she had seen her lover’s Radiance plush and knew it was dressed in purple.

To show her appreciation, Cyclone leant over and kissed her older marefriend’s lips. “Y'know, Blue, we have a little while before we need to head over to dad's place.”

“Oh, you didn't say a time, or how we should dress for that matter.” Bluefeather’s eyebrows alone were very suggestive, half lidded as they stared across the table. “I'm very open to suggestions on what to do with that time.”

Mentally, Cyclone kicked herself. “Oh, right, it was for seven p.m., later, and I think our dresses would be fine, though Aunt Ribbon might think she's royalty…”

Immediately, Bluefeather picked up on the slight distaste prevalent in her marefriend’s tone. “All I packed was another sundress for each of us, a onesie for you and an evening gown for me, you know, in case you took me to see Prince Dusk or Princess Luna.”

“I was gonna suggest the Canterlot MiAC,” Cyclone smiled a devious little smile. She knew her lover was teasing, but now she mentioned it, a side trip to Ponyville seemed like a good idea. “But sure, we can head on over to the palace…”

“Ah,” for just the briefest moment, Bluefeather was flustered. That didn’t last, however when she saw the playful wink in her young marefriend’s eye. “Well, that was a joke...but, if you're so bored with me that you want to spend time at the castle, far be it from me to stop you. I do need to change though.”

Cyclone laughed at that, “Okies sweetie...ooh!” realisation came to her with the force of a sonic boom. She put together a thought in her head that she was sure her lover would go for in a heartbeat. “Dusky and his coltfriend adopted this completely GORGEOUS little unicorn colt, I played with him Thursday at the gaming night, you'll love him!”

Bluefeather blushed, wondering if it was a good or bad thing that she was so easy to read. She decided it didn’t matter. The ‘mother’ in her had made up her mind for her already. A chance to meet and chat with one or both of the Senior Diarchy of Equestria or meet Dusk and his little colt. No brainer, every time. “Oh, now that does sound like fun, doesn’t it?” she asked, trying to play it cool.

Cyclone giggled, knowing full well she had the mid grey mare in the sole of her jet black hoof. “I thought that'd get your interest, babes.” She was still smiling, most at Bluefeather’s stuck out tongue, as she got her phone from her bag. “Just let me give him a call, see if they're here or at their new home in Monsterville.”

At that, Bluefeather tilted her head. She didn’t know where Cyclone meant, but it didn’t sound pleasant. “Um…Monsterville?”

“Ponyville. You do know its reputation, right?”

“Ah, yes,” mentally, Bluefeather kicked herself. She should’ve got that. “The home of Princess Twilight and from the news at least, part of the monster of the week club.”

“You got it, babes.” Cyclone smiled and, leaning over the table, she kissed her lover’s beautiful blushing cheeks, feeling the heat on her lips, before she dialled Dusk's private number.

It was Brush Stroke, not Dusk, who answered the call. The blue earth pony artist only knew whom was calling thanks to the caller ID on his special mare’s phone. “Ah, hello, Cyclone?”

Cyclone had to think for a moment, the mix of Trottingham and Manehatten accents threw her for a second. A blink later and she knew who she was talking to. “Yeah Oils, hi, listen me and my marefriend are in Canterlot. Is it okay if we drop in on you and Dusky?”

“We're at home in Ponyville, but sure, you can come on by.”

Bluefeather rested her hoof on Cyclone’s foreleg, supportively. She knew how she felt about flying. “It is but a short flight, my love.”

Cyclone nodded at Bluefeather, resolutely. “Oils, we'll be there soon, mate.”

“Alright Cycl...” Whatever Brush Stroke was going to say was drowned out by a thunderous crashing sound in the background followed by the whooping of a very excited colt as well as the swooshing of flapping wings passing by the phone.

Cyclone and Bluefeather shared blank curious looks. “Err…um, what was that?”

“That,” Brush Stroke sighed deeply, “was Dusky giving Ivory little flying lessons around the great room.”

Trying so very hard not to laugh out loud, Bluefeather quickly put her hooves over her mouth. She would’ve crammed them in, had she been able. Cyclone however was far less delicate when she sniggered. “And the crashing?”

The sigh was still there in the blue earth pony artist’s voice. “Ivory put his fedora over Dusky's eyes and they went through a couple of my canvasses-”

“HAHAHAAA!” Cyclone blurted out laughing, only stopping at the frowning look from her marefriend, though this disapproving look was ruined somewhat by the shaking shoulders. “Ahem, ah, I’m sorry, I mean, that's awful. Very awful. That’s bad, even.”

“I can feel your sympathy, Cyclone.” In spite of that, though, he giggled. And ducked, as his mare flew low over his head, ruffling his yellow and red mane. “Dusky, outside for flying, love! Please!”

“Aah...you seem busy,” Cyclone decided not to keep the artist longer than necessary. “I'll let you go, Oils and we'll see you soon.”

Now, when Cyclone hung up the call, Bluefeather allowed herself to burst out into fits of giggles. “When he said 'giving a unicorn flying lessons' all I could see in my mind was a unicorn javelin!” she laughed so hard that several passing ponies turned to look at her. Not that she cared.

Putting her phone away in her bag, Cyclone erupted in gales of laughter. “Teehee...from the sounds of it, that wasn't far off!”

“Do you want a pony-back ride?” Bluefeather asked gently and, when Cyclone nodded very quickly that yes, she would, the older pegasus crouched down low for her to get on. “Hop on and hold on. It is a downhill flight from here to Ponyville.” When Cyclone was safely on her back, Bluefeather lifted off and flew, not to Ponyville, but to the grand and impressive – it was Canterlot, after all - Manefair Hotel.

When Cyclone gave her a questioning look as they landed, Bluefeather lifted her eyebrow. “I wasn’t joking Cy, about changing my clothes.” She answered, leading the way up to a room she had booked while she had been waiting outside the House of Rest in the cemetery.

Thankfully, as it had been rather a last minute booking, Bluefeather led the way to their room on the first floor. “I believe you, sexy.” Cyclone said as she followed along up the short flight of stairs. Even though this was her home city, fancy hotels were not her thing.

Safely in the room, which was a functional affair with just one Princess sized bed, mauve wallpaper with a filigree gold flower design repeated all along it and gas lighting – it was Canterlot… and even though this was a ‘standard’ room, it still beat anything in Ponyville. Bluefeather swapped the rather plain dress she had been wearing thus far in favour of an evening gown and tied it up for flight. “You good as is, love?”

“Um...yep,” Cyclone looked herself over, pleased to discover that in spite of her indulgence of a lemon tart and coffee, her cream sundress was still clean, and she was even more pleased to find that her nappy was dry. “And, I'm with you, so I'm very good.” She did wonder however, how the soft carpet could be as soft as it was and not be a cloud.

“Time to fly, love, and I'm with you always.” That said, though it wasn’t strictly necessary, Bluefeather trotted over to the balcony through the wide double doors. When her marefriend joined her, she closed them shut, the magnetic strip automatically locking them behind her. Once more, she crouched down for her to climb aboard.

Again, Cyclone climbed on her lover’s back, though this time she was far more careful, given that Bluefeather was wearing a very nice, very delicate and very expensive looking evening gown that looked like it could’ve come straight from Rarity’s boutique. It probably had, for all she knew. “I know,” she said once she was safely secured in place, “and thanks, love.” She playfully nipped at a grey ear.

As she took off from the balcony, quickly leaving the hotel behind, Bluefeather giggled. “Still, too much of that while flying can be hazardous.” Gaining just enough altitude to fly over the streets and houses, the couple flew over the city wall, past the edge of the mountain and onto the long glide down to 'Monsterville', five thousand feet below.

~ ~ ~

It was an easy and uneventful flight from Canterlot down to Ponyville, thanks in no small part to the weather. It seemed only the nation’s capital city and Cloudsdale itself was due for bad weather today. The suburban town was blessed with a lovely late summer afternoon provided by the weather team. They didn’t know, of course, that the town had endured a week of light rain before this. “They do well here,” Bluefeather commented as they flew lower, entering the town, “even with the Everfree weather patterns.”

Cyclone sniggered at that, only now did she look up from her marefriend’s blue mane – from where it had been nestled for almost the entire flight, “Yeah, and the Plundervine incursions, the Parasprites, the Flyders and the Everfree monsters and so on...”

“There is the castle of the Arch-Librarian.” Said Bluefeather, sharply cutting across her before the young pegasus could build up a head of steam. Instead she scanned the ground. “Now, which home is Prince Dusk’s?”

“Um...” now she had been asked, Cyclone tried very hard to cast her mind back to last Thursday and the chat she’d had with Dusk at the gaming night. It wasn’t exactly easy, what with everything that had happened to her since then over the past four days. “Um, Dusky said it was a three storey thatched place near a big lake, with a heart weather vane on top.”

At that, Bluefeather let out an unintelligible mutter under her breath as she looked down at the houses. They were almost all thatched! “Hmph, that narrows it down a very tiny bit. Not!” They were pretty, yes, but still. “Okay, there is the stream and a lake. Seems heart shaped weather vanes is all the rage in this town.” Still muttering, she looked and saw four three storey houses. “It has to be one of those four over there, then.”

“Uh...” Cyclone looked as well, feeling more than a little silly as she did so for not asking the exact address. Or, more likely, she had asked and had now forgotten. “I thought it'd be easy...yow!” she ducked instinctively to Bluefeather’s back as a dark blue blur shoot past just several feet away, rocking them in the wash from a powerful pair of wings. “What in the name of Tartarus was that‽”

Her question was answered mere seconds later when the dark blue blur came around and flew over to them, slowing to a hover. “Hey Cy!” Dusky grinned, a grin which only got wider when Cyclone offered the royal pegasus a rude gesture with her wing. On Dusk’s back was an ivory white unicorn colt with a purple mane whooping with joy. Dusk himself was looking pretty with ‘her’ mane in a ponytail, a yellow summer dress and a blue collar around his neck.

“Dusk!” Cyclone squeaked, the presence of Ivory Wind preventing her from saying what she wanted to say. She settled for, “that wasn't funny!”

Bluefeather didn’t really know what to make of that, her attention was so drawn to the little unicorn colt that she entirely missed the gesture Cyclone had given her friend. At least that spared Cyclone’s ass later. After a moment though, she thought she should be saying something. “Aaah, Prince...Princess, Dusk?”

“Prince, technically, I prefer Princess,” he made a very mare-ish sounding giggle, “though just Dusky is fine, thank you.” The cross-dressing pegasus hovered over and extended a hoof in greeting. “You must be Bluefeather?”

Skilfully, Bluefeather maneuvered in such a way that she could return the hoof bump without dislodging Cyclone from her back. Even though they were only a few feet higher than the houses below them, she didn’t want to risk an injury. “That would be me. So you've heard of me by reputation, or from my passenger?”

“Both,” Dusky answered truthfully, “though Wily and Tempest both spoke about you in glowing terms at the racetrack in Manehatten yesterday, so I looked you up.”

By now, Ivory Wind, nestled safely on Dusk’s back, had gotten quite bored from the several moments of inactivity. “Mamma!” the little unicorn swatted the back of his ‘mother’s’ head with his brown fedora in an attempt to get the pegasus to move. He loved flying, and he loved flying fast. “Do flying 'gain! Do it ‘gain!”

As Ivory now started to bounce encouragingly on his back, Dusk grinned, “And this here is Ivory Wind, our colt.”

“Who is just adorable!” Bluefeather squealed, clapping her hooves together in sheer delight.

“Just a lot,” Dusk smiled, not minding in the least that said colt was now digging his hind hooves into his flanks in an attempt to get him to move again. “Oils and I found him in the orphanage in Trottingham and we just had to adopt him.”

Cyclone sat up on Bluefeather’s back and waved at Ivory Wind, getting his attention. “Hey lil' guy!”

At once, Ivory saw her and waved back, waving his hat in the air. “You da big filly!” he recognised Cyclone from the gaming night when he had played with her spare Power Pony plush, not that he would forget a super big filly like her.

“Anyway,” Dusk smiled warmly, “Oils said you were stopping by, and I remembered your filly didn't ask our address, so I thought we'd fly up and meet you.”

“Very kind of you.” Bluefeather returned the royal pony’s easy, relaxed smile. She was also very quickly reassessing her opinion of royalty, if the midnight blue pegasus’s example was anything to go by. “The ah, the ‘architecture’ in Ponyville is very similar and I didn't want to go knocking door to door.”

“It’s my pleasure, really.” Dusk insisted, “That and Ivory here just loves to fly.” He giggled, “plus if we break another canvas Oils will spank my flank red, so, c’mon.” with that, he turned, leading the way down and across to the largest of the nearby lakes.

Bluefeather followed in an easy glide down to the large heart shaped lake. She was intrigued by what the Prince had just said. “So, you and Cy have that in common?” she asked, referring to the discipline he had just mentioned.

“Being spanked?” asked Dusk with a wide grin, “it's awesome, right Cy?”

“I can't argue there Dusky, though I'll admit the cross-dressing was a new one on me, last Thursday.”

Dusk simply shrugged, his smile firmly in place as he smoothed out the flowing dress he wore with his forehooves. “What can I say? Oils prefers me in a dress, I love him and I'm his mare.”

Bluefeather let out a delighted little squeal at that. “You look adorable too!”

“Thank you,” Dusk performed a polite little bow in mid-air as they flew low over the thatched houses between them and his house. “That's you straight on the Hearths Warming card list!”

Unfortunately Ivory Wind, who had been excited that they were flying again, now saw where they were going. He didn’t like it, one bit. “Mamma I don' wanna land, I wanna fly!”

It was all Bluefeather could do not to have a heart attack from the cuteness, or at the very least she was sure she now had diabetes. This level of cute just shouldn’t be allowed, especially with that old battered hat he wore. It was too much. “Point out your place and we'll wait inside for you,” she offered, not wanting to upset the little unicorn.

Dusk pointed his hoof towards the building up ahead of them. “It's the large one just there, with the light blue walls the same colour as this collar. You can't miss it.” He turned his attention to Ivory Wind, over his shoulder. “You wanna go superfast, sweetie?”

Ivory Wind was practically on the tips of his hind hooves with excitement and he would’ve, too, had he not been warned against doing just that. “I wanna go mega fast!”

“Alright, one rainboom, but don't tell Daddy, 'kay?”

“’Kay!” the promise of going that fast made the ivory white colt bounce all the harder on his momma’s back. He knew of course that Dusk wasn’t his momma, and he knew that the pony underneath him was a stallion, but he also knew – thanks to the delicate talk that Dusk and Brush Stroke had with him – that he liked to wear dresses, so he was momma.

Bluefeather giggled, she just couldn’t resist a tease of her marefriend. “You want to go superfast, Cy?”

“Y-Yes…” Cyclone held on tight, in preparation, “yes I do.”

“Wow...check you out, Cy!” Dusk hoof-bumped his old friend, clearly impressed.

Bluefeather laughed out loud, happy that her teasing mission had been so easily accomplished. She decided to relent before her passenger wet or filled her nappy. “Maybe not so much when she finds out just how slow my 'superfast' is.” At that, she sped up, accelerating towards the three storey light blue walled house.

That was more than fast enough for Cyclone. “Wohoooo!” she held on really tight, for the moment forgetting that her marefriend was wearing a fancy schmancy evening gown. Dusk, alongside them, also sped up, gathering speed until he shot off into the distance, leaving a midnight blue blur in his wake that erupted in a circular rainboom moments later.

A few seconds later, Bluefeather slowed down and landed softly in front of the three story thatched house on the bank of the heart shaped lake. “Cy? How's the nappy, sweetie?”

Cyclone didn’t answer straightaway, for she was panting really hard. “F-Fine...uh...just fine,” she looked up at the sky, where the dark blue concentric rings of the Rainboom still hung, though they were dissipating slowly into nothingness. “Ugh…what a show off,” she scoffed.

Bluefeather patted her marefriend’s head as she slipped her off of her back and untied her dress so that it hung more naturally that the ‘in flight’ position. “Don’t worry, little filly, I'm not that fast. Serves as a good door knocker though, I imagine.” She snickered at her own joke as they approached the, well, rather nondescript, ordinary, looking house. “Like Ivory would have told his dad anyway,” they both laughed at that, before Bluefeather knocked on the plain white wooden door.

Just a few moments later, the wooden door opened to reveal an extremely harassed looking mid blue earth pony stallion with a striking red and yellow mane. Two clean paintbrushes were lodged behind his right ear. Though he did look somewhat stressed, he give have an easy-going smile on his face when he greeted his guests. “Ah, Cyclone, and you’re Bluefeather, I presume.”

“You presume correctly.” Bluefeather curtseyed politely in the open doorway.

“I'm Brush Stroke, but please call me Oils as I like how it rolls off the tongue.”

“Hey Oils, nice to see you again!” Cyclone, as was her manner, greeted the earth pony stallion like they were old friends, not that she’d only met him the once. It was just her way. “Soooo,” she smiled after they exchanged hoof bumps, “how's the canvasses?”

“From earlier?” he asked, a slight twitch in his eye, “Most are in the rubbish, but a couple were just knocked over.” Brush Stroke was just thankful that the canvasses in question were blank and no work on them, otherwise he would’ve made sure that his mare wouldn’t have sat down for a week. “Please,” he said, standing aside, “come on in as I ‘heard’ my Dusky will be delayed.”

Gratefully, Bluefeather trotted inside, quickly followed by Cyclone. She immediately found the house, with its bare lacquered hardwood floorboards and pale blue paint on the walls to her liking. Looking around, the older pegasus fished for a conversation starter. She was still a little flustered from the informal meeting with a royal. “I've seen some of your work at City Hall. I should say Brush Stroke's work. I was confused when Cy called you Oils.”

Not completely insensitive to his guest’s obvious discomfort – it wasn’t that long ago that he himself was flustered meeting his mare’s parents at Caffeinated’s Open Mic Night, after all - Brush Stroke knew how best to solve that. “Drinks?” he offered, “We have a variety of both alcoholic and non-alcoholic.”

‘Yes! Sweet Celestia’s molten flanks yes!’ Bluefeather thought, as she watched the stallion walk over to a rather impressive and well stocked drinks cabinet and bar that dominated one whole side of the great room. What she actually said was, “A beer for me please an IPA if you have it, thank you.”

“I’ll have a red wine, please.” Cyclone requested, as it was by now the late afternoon. No sooner had the last word left her lips than the white wooden door burst open like it had been bucked and Ivory Wind bounded in, closely followed at a slightly slower pace by his ‘momma’.

That did it, as far as Bluefeather was concerned. With the exhuberant entrance of the excited colt waving his adult sized brown fedora all over, the ice was well and truly shattered and she was immediately at ease, in her element, as it were. “Who's the handsome colt‽” Bluefeather squee’d, crouching down low to the floor.

“I am!” Ivory Wind levitated his hat back on his head, stuffing it on top of his shockingly purple mane and ran over to bump hooves with ‘da big filly’s friend’.

Dusk, taking a moment to fix his charcoal grey mane back into its smooth ponytail, walked over to his lover and Master. “Hey, sweetie,” he offered as a starter, gauging whether or not his stallion was still upset about his canvasses.

On the hardwood floor, Bluefeather gave Ivory Wind a hug, once they had exchanged hoof bumps. “I bet you have some cool stuff!”

At the bar, Brush Stroke busied himself with the various drinks; beer for Bluefeather, red wine for Cyclone, a beer for himself and, to show he was no longer cross, he made a virgin moonrise for his special mare. “At least this time you paid attention to Twilight's noise ordinance this time, my love.” He smiled, affectionately nuzzling ‘her’ cheek.

“I has drums!” squeaked Ivory Wind excitedly, suddenly realising that this newcomer hadn’t seen his new drum kit yet. He had to show her! He had to!

Dusk let out a series of very feminine giggles, the nuzzles easing the stallion into his more ‘mare’ persona. “well, after being chewed out by Twilight seven or ten times, even I learn.”

Bluefeather however, only had eyes for Ivory Wind. The little ivory white unicorn, with his too-large hat, was just the cutest thing she had ever seen, second to her Cy in her full on ‘filly mode’, perhaps. “Won’t the drums break the Princess's noise ordinance?” she asked, hoping for a no.

“Oh no, we had a basement put in.” He, now fully a she, winked playfully as she took the drink from Brush Stroke. “It’s fully soundproofed.”

The mother in Bluefeather was in heaven. “Well then, I'd very much like to hear you play the drums, Ivory.”

“I’mma real good! You come see!”

Smiling, Bluefeather took the offered Ponyville beer from Brush Stroke in her wing and she followed Ivory Wind as the little colt led the way to the basement steps. As he watched the strange new mare follow his colt, Brush Stroke had the look of uncertainty of a father watching a strange mare following his colt. Cyclone, oblivious as she was, caught the earth pony’s nervous look. “She's cool, Oils. When I play the foal, Blue is my nanna.”

Dusky took a delicate sip of her drink. “So, you found a playmate at last then, Cy?”

“One of the best.”

Giving the red wine to Cyclone, who like Bluefeather, took the glass in her wing, Brush Stroke hesitated for just a moment. As glowing as the jet black mare’s recommendation was, he still wasn’t wholly convinced. “I like to hear him play too…” he said, taking up his own beer and leading Dusky and Cyclone down the steps to the basement.

“Of course, sweetie.” Dusky smiled. Brush Stroke was never so attractive and sexy to her now than when he was protective and fatherly over Ivory Wind. On the way down the steps though, she couldn’t help but notice Cyclone’s choice of drink. “Red wine, Cy?”

Cyclone stuck out her tongue, pouting playfully. “Shut up, Princess.”

“C'mon, lil’ filly, let's go hear Ivory play,” giggling, Dusky stayed by the stairs and the entrance to the very well-lit basement. No stranger to noisy foals, Bluefeather had chosen a front row seating pad in front of the little raised up stage that held a very impressive drum kit. Cyclone trotted on in and sat to Bluefeather’s right, while Brush Stroke was sat behind the older pegasus and to her left.

Ivory Wind was perched on a large raised up stool, just so he could actually see his audience over the top of his drum kit. Watching, waiting, Bluefeather knew nothing about drums but she knew enough to know that this was not a cheap set up. “I’mma practise this one!” Ivory Wind squeaked and, pushing his hat back, he took up his drumsticks in his magical aura and launched into a five minute drum solo. When he was done, Dusky clapped from the entrance to the basement. “I gots anova one! Can I daddy?”

Brush Stroke, far more at ease with Bluefeather now he had seen her up close, nodded after he took a long sip of his beer. “I think our guests would love another one, Ivory.”

Bluefeather, lost in the performance, clapped her hooves enthusiastically. “Yes I would! Please!”

“Here goes!” with that, and with encouraging cheers from everypony present, Ivory Wind again took up his drumsticks in his magical aura and played. His performance was technical, complex and the young colt never missed a step. Oft times he hit a cymbal or drum without even looking what he was doing. He was one with his equipment. Once the protracted drum piece was over, he was panting hard, the drumsticks dropping from his flickering magic. “Um...I learn me dis, nopony teached it.”

Once the performance was over, Bluefeather clapped her hooves and cheered like she had just watched a performance at Carneighgie Hall. “You are a very talented colt!”

Brush Stroke smiled, deciding as he applauded, that he liked Bluefeather. “Yes, he is, isn’t he?”

Swallowing his innate claustrophobia that threatened to have her black out then and there, Dusky walked into the basement proper, trying not to think about the fact that she was in a fifteen by twenty foot underground space. “You did very well, Ivory!”

Abandoning his precious drums, Ivory Wind trotted over at top speed to Brush Stroke and tackle hugged the earth pony stallion. “Daddy Daddy, you likes? Didya, huh, didya likes?”

Brush Stroke swept up his little colt in a very tight hug, nuzzling him affectionately, cheek to cheek. “Yes love, I liked it very much.”

Bluefeather had at last stopped applauding, lest her hooves become sore. “Brilliant!” she gasped, “That was just brilliant!”

Ivory Wind soaked up the praise like a sponge, seeming to glow as he puffed out his little chest. “Yaaaaay! Can I go pway now, please?”

Dusky beamed, her heart soaring at how happy and loved the little unicorn was. “Of course you can, sweetie.”

“He is a lovely colt.” Bluefeather smiled appreciatively, taking up her beer and enjoying a long sip. “You've both taught him well.”

“You wouldn't think we've only had him just over a week,” Dusky commented as Ivory Wind, given permission to go play, galloped out of the basement and up the steps back to the great room above them.

“A week?” Bluefeather could hardly believe that. “He seems to be very much at home here. I'm truly impressed.”

‘Yes,’ Brush Stroke thought with a self-satisfied smile, ‘I do like her, very much.’ The mid blue artist nodded to Bluefeather, “We do have a lot of support with four Princesses watching over us.”

“Oh yes,” Dusky giggled, her claustrophobia for the moment out of her mind, “The first three nights we had to pry my mum out of here with a crowbar,” she thought of the scene Octavia had made when it had been time for her and Luna to eventually leave, and leaving made her think back to leaving the enclosed space. She shuffled uncomfortably. “Um, love, can we go back upstairs now, please?”

Brush Stroke, catching the unease rife on his mare’s face, nodded immediately. “Of course we can, dearest.”

Smiling serenely, Bluefeather spoke up, thinking back to the Rainboom that Dusky had performed earlier. “I ah, I do hope we aren't interfering with any discipline while we’re here.”

That did make Brush Stroke pause. “Oh, well, now you mention it…” he teased, looking directly at his mare with ‘those’ eyes.

“Yeah, Dusky,” Cyclone chimed in, unable to stop herself, “you was a naughty filly.”

“Love, Sir,” Dusky had a very desperate look on her face now, the space was really starting to get to her, badly. “Please, I really need to be upstairs, like now, then you can punish me.” Dusky was eminently relieved when her stallion nodded and led the way back up, more intent on seeing what his colt was doing than on punishing his mare. Bluefeather wasted no time in following, while Dusky breathed out a sigh of relief. “Th-Thank you…”

The last two to leave, Cyclone followed alongside her old friend. “Hey, ah, you okay, Dusky?”

“Yep!” Dusky exclaimed in a manner most unlike her once they were at the top of the stairs in the great room and she could spread her wings with a sigh. “I am now!” Ivory Wind, oblivious to all this, was happily playing with his Power Pony action figures that nanna Tavi had bought him the moment she found out he liked them.

Bluefeather smiled, “You may play if you ask nicely, Cy.” She said with a huge wink to her marefriend who, she could see, was itching to go play. “It was funny,” the mid grey pegasus turned her attention back to the sweating Dusky, “earlier today, Cy was asking me what I thought about enclosed spaces. She seems to be fine in a tight spot. I'm not real comfortable in the subway, but I do okay in buildings. Kinda interesting, isn't it Dusky?”

Cyclone, like she had been told it was Hearths Warming, asked, “Blue, Oils, is it okay if I please go and play Power Ponies with Ivory?”

Brush Stroke looked to his mare on that one, as she knew Cyclone better than he. “That depends, will you be a very good filly like you were on Thursday?” asked Dusky with a smile.

“Sure I will, Dusky, I promise!”

“Off you go then.” No sooner had she said that, than Cyclone trotted off to play, while Dusky chose to sit on the long couch, inviting Bluefeather to sit as well, which she did, gratefully. Now, at last, the royal pegasus addressed the question. “Um...I really, really hate being enclosed, Blue. Caffy's Dungeon wasn't so bad, it's fifteen feet high…” she trailed off with a pronounced shiver. “Ah, what was Cy talking about?”

Bluefeather smiled once she was comfortably seated with her evening gown. She emptied her beer and placed the glass on the coffee table. “Wanting to play with foal toys or enclosed spaces?”

“The enclosed spaces,” Dusky explained, though the pegasus visibly relaxed now she was on the couch and sipping her expertly prepared virgin moonrise. “We've only spoken about it once, a long time ago.”

Bluefeather considered that for a moment. “There's an earth pony that works at the Manehatten Times offices who has an isolation suit she wears for fun. Cy is interested in that.”

“What‽” Dusky exclaimed, almost dropping her glass as she shuddered, her skin crawling underneath the midnight blue fur at the very thought of that. “I-I ah…” she struggled to regain her former composure, “I know Lavender...ugh...nope!” it was no good. Dusky just couldn’t countenance it.

Bluefeather rested her hoof on Dusky’s foreleg, for the pegasus seemed less like a royal and more real with every passing second. “I've not seen her in the suit, but I agree, it isn't for me. Do you know of Airmail, too?” she asked, deciding it was best to change the subject.

“Oh yes, I know Airmail,” Dusky smiled, draining her glass in the process. She wasn’t blind, she could tell the subject had been changed for her benefit, not that she didn’t appreciate that, or the supportive hoof upon her foreleg. “I was at Caffy's place when they had one of the bondage parties, I watched Lavender in...in that.”

Bluefeather giggled, out of the corner of her eye she was watching Cyclone play, but she wasn’t concerned in the slightest. “I nicknamed Airy, Gopher, because she likes tight places. I think Cy wants to be like her.”

Dusky smiled, in fact she almost burst out laughing. The very thought that the extremely girly Cyclone could in any way be like the cold blooded Airmail amused her no end. “Well, the fear affects us all differently. I'm alright with my wings tied up as long as I can see outside.” She smiled when Brush Stroke sat to her other side and nuzzled her cheek. “We had that talk didn't we love, after you tried the blindfold?”

“I remember Tempest telling me about her wings being tied up.” Bluefeather commented, casting her mind back to a conversation she had with her violet friend. “That was one bad scene that did not end well.”

Dusk shuddered quite violently, for he too remembered a similar discussion with her in the evening of the BDSM night. “Uh...ah...so um, Blue, seeing as Cy is a filly, what happened Sunday?” she fished for a different topic of conversation, though she was glad Brush Stroke was by her side. “We all missed you both at the race.”

Bluefeather chose her next words quite carefully, she didn’t want to upset her lover any more than she already was. “What do you know of Cy's parents?”

Dusky gave the older pegasus a blank look for a moment as she tried to remember anything about Cyclone’s parents. “I know her dad is an executive at Playcolt, that’s about it, really. I only know her mom from what she's told us in the past. She ah, she made it very clear it wasn’t a topic she wanted to talk about.”

Again, Bluefeather chose her words with care. Cyclone may have been a foal right then, but she knew she could still hear her. “Her mom passed away last Thursday. We went to her home in Cloudsdale on Saturday to move her stuff to Cloudhatten. That was when we found out. The viewing was today and the funeral is tomorrow.”

“Oh...oh I am so sorry...um, do you know, was it ah...natural?” Dusky, not expecting to hear news of a death, was rather taken aback and at a loss for what to say, beyond offering her sympathies, which of course, she did.

“Heart failure.” Said Bluefeather, electing not to go into the whole ‘opium overdose’ aspect of it. Besides, she wasn’t lying.

“Oh, I see,” Dusky smiled, “In that case then, I'm glad she has you with her, Blue.”

Bluefeather nodded. “She and Tropical Storm had a long heart to heart at the house of rest, and she is going to work for him.”

“Is she?” Dusky asked, surprised to hear that, though her smile was still in place. “I remember she enjoyed that one shoot she did years back,” as she said, she looked over at Cyclone and her colt playing happily.

Deciding to bring the as yet silent earth pony stallion into the conversation, Bluefeather looked pointedly at Brush Stroke to get his attention. “Did Dusky tell you about Cy's age play?”

“Not in great detail.” Brush Stroke replied, emptying his beer down his throat in one swallow, “I saw her doing that on gaming night at Caffy's place though, she seemed to really enjoy it.”

“I've been the adult in age play for many years now.” Bluefeather commented, she pointed her hoof over to Cyclone, “My little filly is moving in with me.”

“And I hope you're both very happy,” Dusky smiled, “I know Cy loves playing the foal, and she could use some ‘being happy’.”

Bluefeather nodded, “She plays a rather good adult, too.”

“She can turn her hoof to most plays,” Dusky then noticed that they had all emptied their respective glasses and decided she should do something about that. It was improper, after all, for a host to leave a guest waiting. “Would you like another drink, Blue?” When Bluefeather nodded, Dusky quickly provided another beer for her and Brush Stroke, as well as moonrise for herself to enjoy. As she retook her seat on the couch, a though occurred to her. “I wonder, do you have plans for the coming weekend?”

Now, Bluefeather really did have to think about that. After two sips of her beer, she remembered. “At the moment only on Sunday. Storm front to drop one inch of rain over the whole eastern region.”

“Well, Saturday we have Brightstar, Moonbeak and their two kittens over for a playdate if you'd like to come join us?” Dusky offered, with a nod of approval from his partner.

“I'd love to,” said Bluefeather, and she would, too, then she remembered the distances and travel times involved, “but the distance from Cloudhatten to here and back is just too great, I’m sorry.”

“Next time then,” Dusky smiled, unperturbed, taking a sip of her drink.

“Where does this Brightstar and Moonbeak live?” Bluefeather asked, vaguely remembering the names from what Cyclone had told her about her close circle of friends earlier that day. Thought she did have to think hard to remember if Brightstar was the blue or white unicorn.

“They live in Fillydelphia.”

‘Fillydelphia?’ Bluefeather thought, “That’s not far…’ “Well when you have a playdate at their place I'd be happy to come over with Cy.”

“We can easily relocate Saturday to their place if you'd like?” Dusky offered with a giggle, “I know Moonbeak will be happy to not drive.”

“Let me give you my contact info and if it happens we'd be happy to be there.”

“Alright Blue, thanks.”

“No Problem.” Bluefeather then reclined on the couch with her beer and looked around the great room. It was very…normal. She did giggle at that, after what had she been expecting? The house was just that, a house, a home. It wasn’t anything special or ostentatious. “I must say, this is all rather pleasant. I've not had a lot of dealings with royalty. There was the time Princess Celestia visited Manehatten. That was a production. Then Cy told me Princess Luna visited recently and it wasn't even in the papers.”

Dusky giggled out loud, joined by Brush Stroke. “Ah, we are but ponies underneath, though Aunt Tia likes the pomp and circumstance. Mom is more...um...shall we say, ‘spontaneous’.”

Bluefeather accepted that. She found she rather liked having her misconceptions smashed apart by this very down-to-earth couple. “I do know I'll be at Caffy's for the next gaming night.”

“Excellent!” Dusky clapped her hooves together excitedly, “then we'll definitely see more of each other.”

“I'm very comfortable with the foal play that day.” Bluefeather sipped her beer, “Caffy's Open Mic can be fun too.”

“Yes it's ah...definitely interesting, alright…” Dusky, easily recalling the events of the last Open Mic Night, went quiet and elected to just play it safe and sip her moonrise. Bluefeather didn’t need to know the whole story of how she had met Brush Stroke, and how Luna and Octavia had both turned up. Plus, it was nice having somepony who had not heard the ‘Questionnaire Story’ yet.

“If I might ask,” Bluefeather prompted a few minutes later, breaking the comfortable silence, “what prompted you to adopt?”

Brush Stroke kissed Dusky’s cheek at that question. “My lovely mare right here, Blue.”

Dusky blushed a very intense blush indeed, one that appeared on even her dark blue cheeks. “Well, you see, my parents were talking about having another foal, that gave us the idea, and then the other week we flew to Trottingham with Wily, Airmail and Tempest. Along the way Tempest mentioned we'd be good parents and the idea just…stuck.”

“I think the two of you are excellent parents and this is a home filled with love.” Bluefeather had no idea where that came from, it just entered her head and out it came before she could stop herself.

Dusky, thankfully, knew exactly what the older mare meant and nodded with a smile on her face. “Just like you and Cy, I think.”

“Thank you, Cy is a lovely foal to care for.”

“At the risk of sounding like my cousin Cadance, you two complete each other, anypony can see that.”

Bluefeather nodded thoughtfully at that, as she enjoyed her beer in the Prince’s – Princess’s – great room. “It has been less than a week, but I do have high hopes for this one.”

Dusky smiled, “Cadance would say something like, "in order to be together for years you have to be together for a few days" or, something along those lines.” Her smile became a gentle purr then, especially as Brush Stroke chose that moment to tenderly kiss his special mare’s neck, nibbling up to her ear.

“Such a wise pony.”

Dusky giggled, both at her lover’s attention which was now focussed on her ear and at her guest’s comment, “of course, she'd phrase it better, but you get the meaning.”

Bluefeather did indeed get the meaning. She also got, again, how normal and everyday these royals were that they spoke of one another in such an informal manner. She liked it, a lot. “It is the sentiment is what counts. Do you two go to Caffy's on the other big herd night?”

“We've made a note to attend them all,” Dusky replied, getting an affirming ‘hmm’ from her stallion’s muzzle buried in her neck. “The Gaming Night and the Bondage Night, haven't we, love?”

“Yes,” Brush Stroke smiled, coming up for air and earning himself a mewl from his mare at the loss of contact with her collar bone. “It was a concession of mine. You don't go, Blue?”

“No, I've only been to one.” Bluefeather nursed her beer as she answered, “It really isn't my cup of tea, but Cy and I will talk about it. She likes discipline, but I'm not sure I can go that extreme with a foal. As an adult? We'll talk about it.”

Dusky smiled a very wide smile, and not just because her stallion was playfully stroking the base of her wings from behind, though that was a big part of it. “Oils wasted no time at all getting his collar on me,” Dusky leant her head back and kissed Brush Stroke’s cheek, “I love it. It's not for everypony, to be sure, but if Cy's willing to trust you with an Iso suit, try it, you might like it.”

“We will talk about it.” Bluefeather stated definitely as if to say that was that. She had been there the night Mapper tied up Tempest's wings, and that kind of disastrously violent scene left its mark on a pony. She finished off her second beer with a smile though, as it wasn’t a fault of her host. “I wish to thank you both for your hospitality on such short notice. I'm going to need to get flying if we are going to make it back to Canterlot on time for dinner.”

Dusky waved away Bluefeather’s thanks as she finished her drink and set her glass down on the coffee table. “I think Oils will agree you're welcome anytime you're in the area, short notice or not, Blue.” She smiled, “and I know Ivory would love to see his audience again.”

“Quite true,” Brush Stroke nodded, “I support Dusky in this.”

“Thank you, both.” Bluefeather, albeit reluctantly, got up from the very comfortable couch and stretched her legs. “Cy dear, it’s time to say good-bye to your friend.” She called over to where Cyclone and Ivory Wind were still playing, and she took a moment to once more tie up her evening gown for flight.

“Aaaw!” Cyclone whined, though her whine was entirely playful. “Okay,” at the rather stern ‘motherly’ look on Bluefeather’s face, she turned back to her playmate. “I gots ta go now, but we can play 'gain tho, 'kay?”

“Aaaw...'kay Cy!” Ivory Wind beamed, treating Cyclone to a very tight hug, or, as tight as the little unicorn could manage.

Leaning in close, Cyclone whispered, “Hey, Blue loves squeezy hugs…”

Seeing as Dusky and Brush Stroke had also stood, to see out their guests, Bluefeather gave them both a hug. “Until another day.” She sincerely hoped that ‘another day’ came soon. She’d had a remarkably good time, and she was keen to repeat the experience. “Ready for your pony back ride, Cy?”

It wasn’t Cyclone, but Ivory Wind who came galloping over and tackle-hugged Bluefeather as hard as he equinely could. “You gonna come 'gain? Wiv da big filly too?” he asked hopefully.

Bluefeather hugged the little ivory white colt back just as hard as she herself was hugged. “Of course I will, I want to hear my favourite drummer again!”

Ivory Wind was beside himself at that. “I'll learn new song for you!”

Trotting over, Cyclone had a beaming smile all over her face. “I'm ready for my ride babes, hey Oils, thanks for the wine, I appreciate it.”

Once they had been shown to the door by their very gracious hosts, Bluefeather crouched down low on the gravel path outside the three storey thatched house to allow her marefriend to climb aboard her back. “Next stop, Canterlot!”

Eagerly, as if she was the one who was the young four year old and not Ivory Wind, Cyclone vaulted up on her lover’s back and got herself secured. “Hi ho Bluefeather, away!” she declared loudly, earning herself a ‘look’ from her mount as well as looks from several passing townsponies. “That was fun!” Cyclone said as they lifted off and gained altitude, “I had fun, did you have fun?”

“I did,” Bluefeather replied after a moment’s thought, putting more space between herself and the ground. As she got higher, she felt Cyclone tense up, but no more than that. “More than I thought I would with royalty, if I’m honest. Thank you for bringing me here, Cy.”

Playfully, Cyclone licked up her lover’s ear, enjoying the sensation of her shuddering underneath her. “I'll put that in my official 'i told you so' book, and you're welcome, sexy.”

“Ugh, so I don't get out much, okay?” Bluefeather groused good-naturedly over her shoulder. Then, a thought occurred to her, a thought regarding the events held at Caffeinated’s place. She had promised Dusky she would talk about it with Cyclone, and there was no time like the present. “So, Cyclone, what do you think about going to Caffy's bondage night?”

“Okay,” Cyclone was still giggling at her little joke, “Although it is nice to finally have an 'i told you so' book. And, about that, I think it's something I'd like to attend, it sounds like it’s a lot of fun, babes.”

Bluefeather still wasn’t wholly convinced, given her past experience, but she was willing to try, for Cyclone. “Okay, I'll drop a note to Tempest and that should clear the way for us.”

“If you're cool with it and all, that'd be great, y'know, get you out more.”

The eye roll that Bluefeather performed then was audible. She knew she was never going to hear the end of that. “I'm cool with foal sitting, but I take it you'd like to do more?” she asked tentatively, already fairly sure of what her young marefriend’s answer would be.

“Bluefeather, my love,” Cyclone answered, though it was a good few moments later, after she had carefully considered her response, as well as leaving the outskirts of Ponyville behind them. “I'd like to wear that isolation suit we were talking about earlier to the evening, I hear there's a Dungeon and everything. But, we don't have to do that straightaway.”

Just like Cyclone, Bluefeather was quiet as she too considered her reply. Miles passed by them in the meantime. “Let's see how that works out first, hmm?”

“Deal!” A very relieved Cyclone once more kissed Bluefeather’s ear. “Y’know, I think I'd like a shiny red suit though, oooh hey, they might sell a special onesie like that!” Buoyed by how well the afternoon had gone, Cyclone felt particularly brave. The height didn’t seem to matter to her right then and there. She also didn’t care about the storm clouds they were approaching. Smiling, she started to flap her wings and, slowly, very slowly, she separated herself from Bluefeather’s back by a couple of inches, looking dead ahead as she did so. “I can do it...I can do it…”

Bluefeather felt the weight on her back lift off and, without looking, she had a fair idea what her marefriend was attempting. Given that they were at four thousand feet, she considered this extremely brave. She resolved not to ruin this brave moment by being overly zealous with her support. “Just stay steady love and I'll stay under you. You can land any time.”

Cyclone heard that, though of course she did not look down. She had the toe of her left forehoof touching Bluefeather’s back but she didn't look down. “I-I trust you, love.”

“And I'm very proud of you, but stay safe for the both of us.”

“Uh...y-yeah,” in spite of her resolve to not look down, as they banked and changed direction, she accidentally caught a glimpse of the ground far below, a very, very long way below. Too far below. “AaaAH! N-Nope!” Instantly, she dropped carefully back down to Bluefeather’s back.

Bluefeather glided until she was sure Cyclone had a firm grip on her back. She was certain of this as she could feel her shivering and quaking in place. “Well done love, very well done, Cyclone. I’m proud of you.” With that, the mid grey mare continued her steady climb up towards Canterlot.

“I did it!” The brevity of the seconds long flight didn’t matter one iota to the jet black pegasus. The fact that she had flown at all, particularly at altitude, was enough for her. For now. “I did it! Well, for a bit, anyway.”

“You did!” Bluefeather clapped her hooves together, applauding Cyclone’s frankly heroic effort. “You know, if you peek over my left ear you can see the palace straight ahead with the early evening sun shining on the towers.”

Very carefully, Cyclone did indeed peek over her marefriend’s left ear. She saw the palace. She saw the sunlight glistening off the gilded towers. She knew what that meant. She was practically giddy with excitement. “But…But that means, it means, we're at about five thousand feet!”

“That sounds right.” Bluefeather nodded thoughtfully. She wasn’t sure of the exact height of the capital city, but she knew it was halfway up the mountain, and that was ten thousand feet high. “I wanted to finish the climb so I could take it easy getting there.”

Cyclone giggled, “I flew! At five thousand feet!”

“Not a lot of difference from five feet if you're not looking down.” Bluefeather offered supportively.

“Yeah, I guess you're right babes,” Cyclone leant forward just a little bit and kissed the back of the older mare’s head as they passed over the boundary wall and into the very outskirts of the city. “Know what? I think you might just cure me yet.”

“Not of everything, I hope, my little filly.”

“Nah, not everything, just the fear of heights thing.”

“Good, I'd miss my little filly, but I'll still welcome the big mare.”

“Oh, you definitely got the best of both, my love!” Cyclone giggled, feeling distinctly braver now that the ground was raised up as they flew together over the city. She kissed her ear, “Hey, when I was playing with Ivory, I heard you and Dusky talking about Brightstar and his kittens.”

Bluefeather nodded, smiling ruefully as she was going to bring this topic up, but was beaten to it, just a bit. “They do playdates together. I'm guessing they are the same age as Ivory?”

Cyclone had to think about that for a moment. “Um...Zephyr is three I think, and Athena is about five. When we land I'll show you a picture from my phone.”

“Okay, that sounds good.” Bluefeather responded, flying low and slow over the city, “So when they have the playdate in Fillydelphia I said I could bring you to play with them.”

The moment she heard that, Cyclone let out a delighted little squee. “You did? You said that? Oh Blue that’s so cool! They're both fun to play with, and Athena is such a big sister, too.”

“Have you played with all three of them before?”

“Once,” Cyclone answered quickly, “Thursday was the first time that I've played with little Ivory - isn't he sweet? – and, I've played with Bright and Moony's kittens a few times before at their place in Filly.”

Without realising it, Bluefeather had slowed her flight in what remained of the evening light, which wasn’t much, given the storm clouds, to almost a hover. “Sweet was watching you interact with him.” She said with a smile, revealing that she been watching, if not concerned. “He did take a shine to you.”

“Yeah he did, you just gotta know his games.” Cyclone hugged her marefriend tight, because Ivory Wind’s games had almost been heartbreaking. “Most of his scenarios revolve around the Masked Matter Horn being abandoned.”

Again, Bluefeather found the depths of her limited Power Pony knowledge being plumbed. “That's the leader one, right?”

“Yep. She's his favourite. Then, these other two ponies show up and rescue her. Usually it’s Zapp and Mistress Marevellous. It's pretty 'on the nose' stuff.”

“Was Radiance part of the rescue team?”

Cyclone smiled in such a way that Bluefeather could hear it in her voice. “Well, she is now he knows I like her.”

That was what Bluefeather was aiming for. That was what she had in mind, alright. Hearing that confirmed though, she leant her head back and nuzzled Cyclone’s cheek. “Well done indeed, Cy. You should be proud, getting his trust like that.” She then checked her watch and saw that they had just less than an hour until their dinner date with Cyclone’s family. “So, where’s your dad’s place?”

As they were skimming just a few feet higher than the rooftops, Cyclone felt very brave indeed in looking down and giving directions. “Ah, right, you want the noble quarter of the residential district - the one with the poshest houses and villas,” she then proceded to give her marefriend her dad’s address. “You really can’t miss it, it's a huge red roofed one story villa, with two outdoor pools.”

“Two?” an impressed Bluefeather asked with a giggle as the first few drops of rain hit her blue mane. “My oh my, will he think I'm a gold digger?”

“You can dig for my gold any time you like,” Cyclone giggled, burying her face in her lover’s mane at what she had said. “I’m sorry, that was awful, I know. But, only three quarters of the space is for living in. the other rooms and one pool are for photo and DVD shoots.”

“Ah, quite the business stallion then.” Bluefeather responded, noticeably speeding up when she felt a few more, bigger, drops of rain hit her wings. “It has been too long since I was last in Canterlot. I assume the Noble District is just outside the palace gates?”

“Yeah,” Cyclone made an indifferent sniff, “it makes the nobles or the wealthy feel more important than they are.”

At last, Bluefeather dropped below the level of the rooftops and followed the cobbled streets and the signs to her destination. Below her she could see the insistent rain start to discolour the road surface. Thankfully, as she turned left then right after a straight, she could see their destination. “That must be the place, yes?”

Cyclone saw the rather large palatial single storey villa come into view and nodded. “Ooh yes, that's the place alright,” she giggled a little as the falling rain hit and tickled her ears. “As we're early, you now we'll get the whole tour, right?”

“As long as that tour includes your foal book, I don’t mind.”

Cyclone slumped on her marefriend’s back. “Oh...oh it will, trust me he's kept eeeeeevery photo, and Aunt Ribbon will be there, she’ll make sure you see every photo…”

“Good, the more embarrassing, the better!” Bluefeather giggled as she landed on the well cared for garden path inside the white picket fence.

Very quickly, thanks to the rain, Cyclone slid off of Bluefeather’s back and walked under the wide overhanging front porch. “I cannot be embarrassed, I'm with you, silly.”

“That's the spirit. Should I ring the doorbell?” Bluefeather asked, although, spurred on by the rain suddenly getting a lot worse, Bluefeather leapt forwards under the porch and slammed her hoof insistently into the door, foregoing the bell.