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Johns

by Cackling Moron

Chapter 1: Time for you and time for me

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Author's Notes:

There's no grand design here.

“Like this?” Celestia asked, eye flicking to me for verification or possibly moral support.

I held up my hands, thumbs and fingers at right-angles, and made a frame so I now had her in profile. I also closed one eye and let my tongue poke out, mostly for effect.

“Yes! Just like that.”

“And what was I supposed to say again?”

“‘Look Phillip, I’m a stamp’,” I said.

“Look Phillip, I’m a stamp?” She asked, utterly baffled. That really added something for me, I got to say.

And I laughed, oh how I laughed. I even slapped my leg for emphasis.

Celestia frowned at me, dropping the pose.

“I feel I’m missing something here. Or a lot. Everything, in fact.”

To be fair, so was I, though for entirely different reasons. Magical brain nonsense. Yada yada. Ideas and stuff with no context, all that jazz. I had still enjoyed it, though, so it worked out. Who cared for the details?

“Is my enjoyment of the simple things not enough for you?” I asked her with every ounce and scrap of sincerity I could lay my hands on. Which wasn’t a lot. Celestia just smiled at me, which kind of made me melt a bit and made me lose my train of thought, such as it was.

“Oh, you on your own is more than enough. Though I do like it when you’re enjoying yourself,” she said.

“Oh, but I’m always enjoying myself when I’m with you,” I replied.

These little tea-and-biscuit get togethers she and I had usually went through a phase of this. I think it was a contest, though neither of us ever seemed to think we were the one who won. Typically we just tried to one-up one another with twee platitudes until we couldn’t keep the giggles in anymore.

“Oh, but even the mere expectation of this time spent together is almost enough to fill my heart to bursting,” she said with a wide, wide wave of her hoof.

That got me way quicker than I thought it would. It was the hoof that sold it. I cracked, I did, which set her off too, which just made it worse for me!

Very nearly spilt my tea it got so bad.

“You came out of the gate strong with that one,” I said once recovered.

“I did, didn’t I?” She said happily, settling herself a bit more comfortably.

All this, of course, taking place on the foredeck of the rather quaint miniature house I’d set myself up in in the palace grounds. I think it had originally been a shed of some sorts for the groundskeeping staff? But the place was huge and no-one had been using it when I’d found it so I’d asked if I could sleep it in and Celestia had said yes.

Shocker, that. Almost like got special treatment or something. Cough cough.

I didn’t live there all the time, obviously, being as I was now a fancy-pants man of the world and typically bussed back and forth between Canterlot and Ponyville more-or-less on the regular. Did odd jobs, helped out my buds, hung around taking up space, that sort of thing.

Good to keep busy, you know? People to see! Things to do!

In Ponyville the plan had been - and still was, as I often insisted - to try and track down a place of my own. I just hadn’t had a whole lot of luck with it, mostly due to lack of effort, mostly due to Twilight’s endless and insistent insistence that I could shack up at hers.

Lovely girl, Twilight. Just so nice! We had a neat time hanging out, I must say.

And when back in Canterlot I stayed in this cute house in the grounds. Because.

As opposed to doing what I had kind of maybe sort of wanted to in the first place, which was, you know, staying in Celestia’s room. With Celestia. As much as possible.

The reasoning had involved the suggestion of the two of us possibly needing space? Or that we shouldn’t spend every available moment together as it might be unhealthy somehow? I think that had been the line of thought at the time, put forward by certain concerned parties.

Which sounds sensible on the outside, certainly. But, looking at her right then in front of me, I couldn’t quite recall the exact steps of the reasoning, or how it had seemed so convincing to me at the time. Or anything much, actually. Looking at her I kind of felt that even sitting as close as we were was still too much space.

But I am notoriously biased about this sort of thing.

I was also staring. This I only realised because Celestia, grinning, kept inching her face closer and closer to mine until our noses touched, at which point I finally blinked.

“Sorry, miles away,” I said.

She reached up to give me a peck on the head before leaning back in her chair again, giggling.

“I noticed,” she said.

How horses sit in chairs is deeply unsettling to me, somehow. I just do my best not to pay too close attention to it, really. It’s one of those things that if you do look too closely you just start seeing all that’s wrong with it.

That said, I had almost immediately gone back into semi-staring again without really realising and was only tipped off to this when I felt a wingtip tickle my nose.

“Your tea’ll get cold,” I mumbled, reaching for my own cup and playing it off like I hadn’t been doing anything of the sort.

I’m not blushing you’re blushing.

Further giggles from Celestia as her drink levitated over and she sipped her tea. She took hers black with sugar, like a barbarian, but I was fond of her so I let her off.

I’m a soft touch, I know. I’d let her get away with just about anything, really.

I am rather fond of her. Did I mention that?

“How was your day anyway? Can’t help noticed that you’ve been conspicuously avoiding that,” I said, to direct attention away from how much I wasn’t blushing. I was also curious. These little meetings of ours usually came onto the topic of her day sooner or later, but today she seemed intent on steering away.

“You don’t want to know,” she said, darkly, which was probably among the best ways of getting someone to want to hear about your day.

“Oh, I do, I do!” I said, setting my cup down again, the better to be eager.

This I did carefully and with both hands, just to be on the safe side. That tremor still hadn’t gone - doubtful it ever would - and there were good days and bad days. Today was middling, so both hands for safety, lest there be spillage again, like that other, embarrassing time.

Eh, these things happen.

“Well, in that case I don’t want to soil you with it. It’s nice having a part of my life that work can’t get at,” Celestia said.

I could see the logic of this, actually, but all the same I could also see the drawbacks of her bottling up what was obviously a handful of gripes at the very least. Gripes should never be bottled. They don’t age well.

“Venting is healthy,” I said.

“Is it now?” She asked, eyebrow arched.

“It is. I read that somewhere. Or am fairly certain I read that somewhere,” I said, nodding emphatically and seriously, as though I had journals on the subject to hand were she to require them.

Celestia tried to keep a straight face despite this, but didn’t mange for long and had to look away, grinning lightly and setting her own cup down again.

“Well I can’t argue with fairly certain,” she said. Again I nodded.

“Only a fool would argue with fairly certain,” I said.

“And fairly certainly I’m not fool,” she said, turning back to me and smiling.

That smile. That smile! Did anyone else get to see that? Or was it just me? Or did it only look so stunning to me? Was I just uniquely affected?

So many questions.

Celestia took another sip of her tea and then settled herself.

“Alright, fine. I’ll vent. And just remember you brought this on yourself.”

“My own head be on it. On my own head, uh, fuck. Mea culpa, it’s all on me,” I said, mangling everything and deciding it best to just bow out before I made it worse.

Fortunately for me - and for whatever reason - Celestia seemed to rather enjoy me eating shit like that and so I got another smile. A win, in my book.

“Well, things were pretty normal at first…” she said, getting into it.

The setup was typical. She was holding court as was to be expected, doling out advice and arbitration and receiving thanks and platitudes in turn.

I’d sat in on one of these, ones. Just in the wings, you know. Just to see how the sausage was made. It had been unedifying, though I had been greatly impressed with the ease, confidence and skill with which she discharged her duties. Like she’d been doing it for a while or something!

Not, uh, sitting in her wings, just to say. The actual wings. The former might have drawn comment.

Celestia gave me the basic rundown of how things went, which was - as she’d said - pretty normal. Then this one particular chap approached. Someone she hadn’t seen before! He looked perfectly reasonable at first, so she said, but this impression was quickly smashed once he got started.

I’ll admit, I did not fully understand what the issue was that he’d brought before her. She did explain it! I’m just dense and consistently fail to grasp simple concepts. I really, really don’t understand this sort of thing. SHould probably get better at that.

All by the by anyhow, as it was less the substance of the chap’s issue, and more his style of delivery.

Celestia was quite effusive about that.

“-and he had such a boring voice! I know that’s mean and I’m sorry but it was! And I’d know! I’ve heard enough of them. And then - and then! - he tries to catch me out with precedence! And I know precedence! I was there!” She said, cheeks puffing out.

“Does precedence feel special when it’s happening right in front of you?” I asked.

“You know, I only think you recognise it in retrospect. Or it’s only officially recognised in retrospect. At the time you just think it’s something new,” she said, giving my stupid question far more attention that it deserved. She then shook her head to get back on track, which did things with her mane that I appreciated. “Anyway! As I was saying. He tried to bring up precedence with me - me! And so I - “

And the anecdote spiralled from there. Plainly this had been simmering for her.

Of course a lot of what she said and a lot of what she was venting about continued to go right over my head but that wasn’t really that important if you think about it. I didn’t need to fully understand what it was about to get how she felt about it. You know? She wanted a sympathetic ear, not an expert analysis of events she herself had been through!

You know?

That’s my approach to listening, at least. Seemed to work.

“Anyway,” she said, blowing out a breath and shaking her mane out, plainly unburdened. “It’s over with now. He got the answer he wanted and got to listen to himself talk for a while, and I didn’t lose my temper. Things could have been worse.”

Then she blinked and looked mildly surprised.

“Oh. I do feel better!” She said with quite possibly the single-most adorable look of amazement on her face. Not so adorable that I did not feel vindicated, however.

“I told you!” I said.

“You did!” She said, matching my inflection. I rather liked that. “Who knew you could be a font of such rich and useful advice?”

“Not me, certainly. But like I say it’s just stuff I picked up, really. Skills! Knowledge. I acquire these things. Well, I’m trying to, at least.”

Just wanted to be useful! And, you know, have a good time with cool people. Seemed like a reasonable goal to me. And what better place for it?

“Very handy these days, the way Twilight tells it. I even heard you’ve turned your talents towards sewing on one occasion or another. Has anything come of that, actually?” Celestia said, delicately.

This would be a reference to the bear that I made and gave to her. The bear I slaved over to produce! Blood, sweat and tears! Spinning wheel, got to go round! Well, not quite, but I put the effort in at least! That couldn’t be denied.

She pretended to find it grotesque but I’d seen it in her bed, I knew she secretly liked it.

“Speaking of my original, selflessly handmade gift to you, I’ll have you know I’ve been practising on making those. I like to think I’ve improved,” I said, not rising to such bait.

“Do they look like bears yet?” She asked.

Harsh words! I rankled!

“I’ll have you know they look more like bears than actual bears,” I said, crossing my legs to show how unruffled I was by her needling. This would have looked better had crossing my legs been easier but still, the spirit was there.

Celestia put a hoof to her cheek in wonderfully pantomimed mock-shock.

“That is impressive.”

“I know, right? And what’s more I’ll also have you know that they’re actually rather popular! At least around Ponyville.”

That foxed her!

“Really?” She asked with no bluff and with actual, genuine doubt.

Again, harsh. Come on, lady, why you got to do me like that?

“Really!”

Really really, I wasn’t lying. They actually were proving surprisingly popular, among the kids at least, and at least two of the adults I’d seen so far. Possibly this was just because they were novel. Certainly, they were all a little different - that tremor in my hand wasn’t going anywhere.

Handmade! Each and every one unique! That’s a selling point. Honest.

To be fair, that a lot of them look - uh, unbalanced, shall we say? - is probably another selling point, at least as far as the kids go. Kids like that sort of thing, it turns out. Maybe they’re seeing something we don’t?

I’m not complaining. I get to do something, they seem to enjoy the results. Trebles all round!

Ah! And speaking of enjoying the results...

“Ooh, that reminds me too, I actually did make something that I know for a fact you’ll like,” I said, snapping a finger as the memory came bubbling back through my fascinatingly unique mental geology.

“You did?” Celestia asked, halfway moving to help me as I rose to standing, stopping herself short. I preferred to do it myself, as she knew. Nice of her to be concerned, mind.

“It’s a cake!” I declared once I was vertical, hopping over for my stick and then turning back to Celestia again.

She gave me a flat look.

“There was cake here this whole time and you didn’t say anything?” She said.

I felt there was an accusation hidden in this question.

“I forgot!” I said, waving my free hand.

The flat look continued. I coughed.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll go get it.”

And so I did, clomping back inside my house-stroke-shed to where I’d left the cake - my ad-hoc pantry thing! Didn’t have a whole lot in it because, well, there was a castle outside where food was, but it was really the thought that counted. And in this case it counted a lot, as it gave me somewhere to put my cake.

There it was, sat on a cool marble slab in its little cake...case...thing. Just where I’d left it. Why had I put it on that cool marble slab again? I probably had a good reason at the time.

Kind of silly to have forgotten about the damn thing, really, given that I’d made it specifically knowing that I was coming to see Celestia, but then my memory isn’t exactly my strongest point. In my defence I fell through dimensions and shattered by mind, fucking up - apparently - the whole right side of my body in the process. Surely I can be forgiven for a thing or two slipping my mind?

That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.

Still, at least I was better at making cakes than I was at remembering that I’d made them, in my own humble opinion. My baking skills had come on leaps and bounds of late, thanks to my time spent with Pinkie. Marvellous teacher, her, in her own unique way. I had learnt much!

She and I did diverge when it came to decoration, however.

I preferred a certain level of restraint and subtlety, while she could produce a cannon out of thin air and was sort of the living embodiment of the death of subtlety. I often had the sense that she might be physically incapable of not putting hundreds and thousands on anything baked that just happened to sit near her for too long. I, usually, could hold back.

Each to their own, eh?

Still, lovely girl. They were all such lovely girls!

Balancing the cake-case in one hand I hobbled my way back to the teazone, setting the thing down on the little table we had for the express purpose of setting delicious things down onto.

“Ta-da,” I said, opening it up for inspection. “Look at this saucy minx. Check out the piping on that.”

“Ooh,” Celestia said appreciatively, sitting forward, eyes alight.

“Just a Victoria sponge. I put icing on it though because, well, I do like me some icing,” I said, continuing to open up the case. So many complicated folds! Soon though it was open and the cake stood there, proud.

We took a moment to just bask in it. I’d actually done good.

Then it occurred to me I hadn’t brought plates or anything that might have been useful in divvying the thing up.

“I’ll be back in a second,” I said, shuffling off. I’d get that cakeslice I bought, those plates I borrowed, it’d be -

Wait, what was that noise?

I stopped, turned back, and blinked. Everything looked the same, but something was missing. What was it?

I looked a little closer.

“There was a cake here a second ago, I’m sure of it,” I said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, muffled by crumbs, hiding her mouth behind a hoof.

Then I finally clocked that the plate was empty, barring a few more crumbs. I had literally only turned around for two seconds at most - wasn’t sure whether to be horrified or deeply impressed. Perhaps a combination of the two? Horripressed? Impressified?

We’ll workshop that later.

“Ye Gods woman, did you inhale that?” I asked, picking up the plate to examine it for signs of trickery. No trickery, just an absence of cake. When I lowered it I found Celestia looking very sheepish indeed.

“Sorry. That was greedy,” she said.

“Was it good?” I asked. This was my primary concern. It had been baked mostly for her benefit, after all.

In answer to this she burped abruptly, hoof clamping to her mouth again as she went very red.

“Sorry,” she said again, voice tiny.

God she was cute.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I said, setting the plate down and then, grunting, lowering myself to a knee by her seat. This alarmed her briefly, but by the time she might have thought to do anything it I’d done it, and I was kneeling. This brought us a little more level, and got us much closer.

Much better.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hello,” she said, less red now and more towards the pink, hoof lowering.

Shuffling in closer and setting down my stick I put my hands onto the armrests of her seat, either side of her.

“Missed you, you know,” I said.

“It was only a few days…”

“Yeah, I know. And it was fun times, don’t get me wrong. But still. MIssed you.”

Further pinkness, and a nuzzle to hide what was a rapidly-spreading grin.

“I missed you too...” I heard right by my ear.

Oh, how soppy we were. I think we’re allowed.

When the nuzzle finished she pulled back, and the smile had returned in force. I had just enough time to appreciate this before she moved in again, this time with a definite and obvious purpose.

Time for a kiss, then!

Not going to lie. Kissing a horse is still unusual. Can’t fully explain why - especially since I still got that whole ‘can’t remember humans’ thing going on - but it’s always just there. Generally I ignore it. Works pretty good for me.

Helps that I’m kissing Celestia. Because I - uh - I’m really very fond of her.

It broke after however long it happened to go on for and we both sat back and we had a quiet moment. Somewhere a bird was making noise. Good for them, I thought. Everyone’s having a good day.

“Sorry, think I missed that. Could we go over that again?” I then asked.

“You…” She said, shaking her head.

Worked though!

And she leaned on forward into me and she had the leverage so I just kept on going back and back and her wings came in and oh, I’m lying on the decking now with her on top of me. That happened. Well, worse things have happened.

When it broke that time we stayed nose-to-nose, in the sunshine on that decking, me wrapped in wings. A win, in my book.

I like being held! Deal with it! Embrace it! I’ll fight you!

Ahem.

“I’m getting the strangest sense of deja vu,” I said.

“This does seem to keep happening, doesn’t it?”

Not enough in my opinion.

And her face was just so close and her eyes were just so fucking pretty and before I could put a lid on it words were coming out of my mouth and bypassing the more sensible parts of my brain.

“Celestia, I - you - us, uh, we, well - I really like you, you know? Rather a lot. Have I mentioned that? Because I do. I can’t - can’t really express to you the full details of the hows or the why but I just kind of want to get to you that I do. You know?”

This statement left a vacuum in its wake.

“You didn’t really think that through, did you?” Celestia asked me, unable to keep a fully straight face.

“I did think it through, I just said it anyway...”

Not wholly true, but she didn’t have to know that.

“You…” she said again, moving in for another nuzzle. I nuzzled back, just to give as good as I got. This egged her on, and rapidly resulted in some odd manner of nuzzle-off. Winners? Both of us.

Had to end though, eventually, and when it did she sat back up on her haunches, wings withdrawing. I propped myself up on an elbow.

“I have an idea,” she said.

“Oh?”

“The idea was that when you’re in Canterlot you sleep here rather than with me to give us some distance and space, yes?”

“Yes I believe that was the idea.”

“Well, Luna didn’t say anything about me sleeping here with you, did she?”

I wasn’t immediately sure if she was serious or not with that, but looking at her I could tell that, yes, she was completely serious about this. Her smirk spoke volumes, and was also contagious.

“That’s some pretty on-point fine-printing you’ve got going there,” I said.

She gave her mane a flick. Which, again, is a neat trick given that her mane is kind of...flowy and immaterial.

I’d stuck my hand in it, once. This told me nothing.

“I try,” Celestia said.

“She’ll probably be grouchy if she finds out,” I pointed out.

“Maybe. But then again, if she’d really been that concerned she probably would have worded things more carefully, wouldn’t she?”

That’s some brass! You magnificent bastard, Celestia.

“Heh, it’d probably be easier just do what we want and damn the consequences…”

“Easier, but nowhere near as much fun!”

Couldn’t argue with that.

Next Chapter: We will depend Estimated time remaining: 6 Hours, 56 Minutes
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