“So,” Doug remarks to Rarity as they return to Ponyville along the train tracks, “are these gems especially common?”

“For the most part, no. Though the demand is not terribly high, either.” The white unicorn glances over. Doug has fished out one of the hundreds of gems from the mishmash of straps connecting all the packs to himself. He’s admiring the hoof sized ruby in the afternoon light, twisting it to see through the various facets. It’s not the largest, or the clearest, with a sizable inclusion in the center. “Some caverns are absolutely littered with them,” Rarity concedes, “but they tend to lack the variety that I get when I travel to the Gorge, and the chance at a… rare find.”

Doug’s look of longsuffering is not lost on Rarity, the unicorn tittering. She rolls her unencumbered shoulders, happily trotting along, though keeping an ever watchful eye on the Everfree Forest. “I guess that makes sense,” he says, replacing the ruby and pulling out a sapphire.

“What’s that?” Rarity asks, intrigued.

“I was under the impression that your cutie marks, well, determined your profession or something.” Doug shrugs, pulling out a diamond next. It’s smaller, but perfectly clear. I wonder if these would be considered artificial. Well, doubtful; too many imperfections in many of them. But how would a multitude of different gems get into a pocket like that? Maybe pooped out by a sand worm, or whatever the equivalent is here. His eyes slowly go wide, replacing the gem in the pack and wiping his hand off on the side, not that there is anything but trace amounts of dirt.

“That is commonly the case, though by no means a guarantee.” Rarity glances to her flanks, then to the quick drawing she made of Doug’s request. “What brought that on?”

“Curious,” Doug says, wishing they hadn’t drunk all the water before setting out, even if it lightened the heavy load on his back. “I didn’t notice a lot of dresses in your Boutique showcasing these gems, and yet there are gems on your flank. Applejack has her apples, and Rainbow Dash her cloud and lightning. I saw your gem finding spell, and wondered if that had to do with your talent.”

“Well,” Rarity says with a smile, happily sidling next to Doug and rubbing her flank against his, “I got my cutie mark when my horn, ignoring my plaintive kicking and screaming, dragged me all the way out to the Gorge. At first, I thought it was merely for a rock! But when that rock split before my very eyes and revealed the hidden wonders inside, I knew my purpose was not purely to locate and sell these gems but to craft and tailor them into accoutrements and accents that would truly let the beauty of the pony underneath shine through!”

By the end of her story Rarity is beaming broadly, her joy infectious. “And my favorite moment is when a pony sees herself in one of my creations, her inner beauty reflected in the gown adorning her.”

“That must be truly satisfying,” Doug replies, a little heady, much like when Applejack stood among the apple trees.

“It is,” Rarity replies before glancing at his unadorned flanks. “Is, um… How do I put this. Humans do not have cutie marks, correct?”

“Correct,” Doug says, smugly noting how Rarity’s gaze lingers on his body. He gulps, trying to distract himself from the thoughts of bending the willing mare over. “Generally we have to find out for ourselves the things that really interest and drive us, that propel us to take chances and risk the present for the future.”

“Fascinating,” Rarity says. “Is that what that design means? I’m not familiar with it.”

“Oh, that?” Doug chuckles. Now I’ll certainly not need to worry about her jumping me, unless it’s to try to shut me up. “It’s for a game I played back home called Gaia Project. Very complicated. Are you sure you want to hear about it?” He sneers at her, but affably, a spring coming to his step.

“Try me,” Rarity grins back.

“Alright, then,” Doug says, pulling out pencil and paper. Might as well record what I remember, and piece together what I don’t. “So, each of the seven colors on the outside represents two of the fourteen different factions and the planets they settle on, each with their own unique quirks and special abilities. Your goal is to spread across the galaxy, fulfilling various conditions to earn victory points, while blocking your opponents from doing the same. And you do this by…”

By the time Ponyville comes into view Rarity’s head is swimming with concepts, some familiar while others are completely foreign. The budgeting aspects I can understand; it’s what I must do for the Boutique, and one has a clear goal to work towards. But the multitude of ways he described to achieve the same goals? I thought I pitied the ponies who found their cutie marks in the dreary world of accounting. But now that I’ve met him and his purported ‘games’?

Southern Ponyville isn’t terribly crowded, the pair only drawing a few stares. “Well, darling,” Rarity says as the two slip inside Carousel Boutique, the sign on the door flipping from ‘closed’ to ‘open’, “I had a marvelous time.”

“Me, too,” Doug says, unbuckling Rarity’s saddlebags and setting them on the floor. “Think you’d be up for it again?”

“Mm,” Rarity stalls, considering briefly. “I think it will be a week or so until I have finished sorting these gems, and started preliminary cuts. Then I’ll have a better idea of what varieties I will need to search for.” She walks forward, wide eyes meeting his. She gently rests a hoof on Doug’s thigh in a manner he is quickly learning means ‘you’re too tall, lean over so I can kiss you’.

He does, and it isn’t the polite kiss on the cheek he was expecting. She balances on her hind legs as her foreleg wraps around him, hoof tenderly squeezing his rump as muzzle meets lips. His hands go to her flanks, steadying the mare as he digs into her marshmallowy posterior, unable to contain his contented moan as she lets loose one of her own.

“Perhaps,” Rarity wrests out, her body screaming at her to topple backwards and seal the deal with the stallion mere hooves away, “we should meet before then.”

“Tomorrow?” Doug asks shakily, head reeling from the loss of blood.

“Let me think,” Rarity stalls, though she knows her schedule is fairly open. I don’t want to appear too eager, despite the signs being obvious. And with his… how shall I say, cultural misgivings, to consider, I wouldn’t want to pressure him too much. “How about Kinday?”

“Kinday?” Doug repeats dumbly. “When’s that?”

“You…” Rarity hesitates, not wanting to insult his ignorance. She pulls away, dropping down to a four legged stance. “Two days from now. Today is Genday.” Her voice takes on the sing-song quality of a foal’s rhyme, “Honday, Genday, Loyday, Kinday, Lauday, Frienday, Stallionsday.” She smiles up at him. “Simple, right?”

“I-I guess,” Doug stammers. Do they have different names for the months, too? “Two days from now sounds great. Evening or all day?”

“Evening would be best; perhaps we can share dinner. I’ll certainly have your ‘backpack’ done; if I manage to finish early and happen to see Applejack I’ll be sure to have her deliver it to you.” Rarity grins despite her hesitation in asking her next question. “Doug?”

“Yeah?”

“I know Rainbow Dash already asked you, and you might not have the time.” Rarity stretches her smile as Doug gives her a dubious look. “But would you consider assisting with my heat as well?”

Doug closes his eyes as he draws in a deep breath. “Rarity,” he sighs out, though he stops as her hoof gently presses against his thigh.

“I’m sorry,” Rarity says softly. “I didn’t mean to push you.”

“I know,” Doug says. And that’s what makes it so difficult - and alluring - you’re willing to respect the boundaries I put up. All I have to do is not tear them down myself. Easier said than done, right? “I kind of see that as going too far, too quickly. And I don’t want to push it.”

“While ‘everymare does it’ might not be the best argument,” Rarity says with a coy smile, “it is something that friends - good friends - do for each other. Nothing more needs to come of it.”

“Alright,” Doug says, patting Rarity on the head before leaning down and kissing her mane. “If that’s the case, then I’ll do it.”

“Thank you!~” Rarity exclaims happily, pushing forward to kiss his chest. She leaves a small wet mark. And that saves me needing to find a replacement for Rainbow Dash. “Now, I must get these out of the way before customers arrive. Is there anything else you would like?”

“Just,” Doug says, smiling as Rarity finds a stamped envelope. He stands back up and grabs Applejack’s bag and tools. “I’ll see you… Lauday?”

“Kinday,” Rarity corrects with a smile. She waves as he exits the store, a brief huff of exertion as her horn grabs the heavy bags. That was quite generous of him; my legs most certainly would not have appreciated the extra weight!

Doug groans loudly as soon as the door shuts behind him, stretching his sore legs. Man, carrying all that extra weight was rough. I really need to get in better shape. Most of Applejack’s work has been strength based, lifting and carrying short distances. Maybe morning or evening runs?

More ponies crowd the streets as restaurants open their doors, haughty waiters standing by to let in the early dinner rush. Doug stands up straight as a few ponies pass him on the way to Carousel Boutique, long strides taking him to the post office. He stops to reread the letter.

‘Dear Research, Inquest, and Procurement;
I am not a pony; my mare and I are eager to start our family, but unsure as to the health of our potential young. Are there records of other interspecies families that have successfully conceived? Did they need any assistance, such as a potion or spell, for it to work? Are there any doctors you can recommend for such a venture?

On an unrelated note; we were having a discussion regarding the potential for interdimensional travel and commerce. What methods are there of doing so, if any?

Thank you for your time,
Doug Apple’

Doug grimaces slightly at the last part, though Rarity had assured him the moniker follows the traditional herd naming. He drops off the letter in the mailbox, reminding himself that he can perform his own search at the library. He makes his way through the crowd, heading back to Sweet Apple Acres. His trip is, thankfully, unmolested, with no sign of the guards from yesterday, though he can’t help but notice the second glances and long stares. I hope it’s not the boots.

“Howdy!” Applejack greets him fondly as he arrives at the sorting barn. She’s unloading the full baskets from her wagon, her mane and coat damp.

“Hey,” Doug says, waving at her and Granny Smith. The elderly mare waves back, excusing herself to start baking tomorrow’s deliveries.

“Lots’a sortin’ still to be done,” Applejack says, walking towards him. He drops down, their sweaty embrace over swiftly as Applejack returns to the cart. She looks eager to keep working, especially with him there. She sniffs at the air, turning with a questioning look. “You’n Rarity get friendly?”

“Nothing more than a hug and kiss,” Doug says, though his mouth draws to a thin line. Applejack looks intrigued, pausing despite her earlier rush. “She, and Rainbow Dash, asked to be my cooler buddies for the upcoming heat.” I’ll tell her about the rest once we aren’t so busy. I know she likes to concentrate on harvesting.

“You’ll be busy, then,” Applejack says with a chuckle. Doug joins her with unloading baskets, the mare keeping a quick pace. “Ah got the extra wheat seeds planted, but it means Ah’m more’n a bit behind on harvestin’. Most of em, though, don’t need to be sorted special or nothin’, just checked to make sure they’re good and shipped to Canterlot. One of the bulk deals we got.”

“Got it,” Doug says, wondering if Applejack got an early dinner or if they’d be working straight through until the harvest is done. Well, it’s probably what I have to look forward to on most days.

Next Chapter: Ch. 33 - Duskblight* Estimated time remaining: 11 Hours, 49 Minutes