Caramel swirled the last few dregs of beer in his glass. It had only been his third or fourth, and as he peered into amber-brown depths of the bottle, he sighed a little.

The night had gone swimmingly. He had subconsciously picked out one of the girls, bought her a drink, started chatting her up... nothing he hadn't done a million times before. It was really just a matter of routine - a pre-planned formula that'd been taught to him by Pilsner and Lucky, with snide additions by Frederick.  

Bonbon - that was the introduction Rainbow Dash had given him. She'd been pretty much the girl he'd been expecting. She'd drank fancy spirits at a rate of knots, and done a huge amount of talking. Most of it was fairly trivial - who she was, and where she worked, nothing unexpected. As he took a sip of his beer, he wondered if that was something Rainbow Dash and her friends had in common. They all talked incessantly.

She'd talked to him for so long that hours had passed before he took stock of time again. A hoof tapped him on the shoulder to snap him out of his bored trance, and he turned.

It was Pilsner. As expected, he spoke with a slight slur. Dash didn't stand at his side so much as hang off his neck unabatedly, laughing over the chatter of the crowd and the background music.

"Hey, we're all going to a club a couple blocks over! I hear Tiesto is opening!"

To be honest, it was the last thing he wanted. Caramel hated clubs, and he had a headache. Noisy, smelly, messy sties.

"Oh, Bonbon, wait till you hear this - did you know these guys room with the DJ PON-3?" Dash yelled, her crimson eyes snapping wide with excitement. Bonbon's own pale blue eyes doubled in size, and she let out an excited squeal.

"Oh, my, GOSH! Caramel, you didn't tell me!"

That little outburst pretty much decided their next move, but all the same, Caramel had felt apprehensive. He peered past the tall brewer, and saw Lucky and Freddy getting to all fours. The purple unicorn who had so sternly reprimanded Pinkie Pie had vanished. The party mare was talking animatedly to Lucky, who appeared to be enjoying himself.

"Where'd Twilight go?"

"Ah, her? She didn't want to go, so she left."

Silently, Caramel cursed. Why didn't he choose to chat her up instead?

"Too bad for her!" Bonbon said excitedly. Before Caramel could protest, she put a hoof around his foreleg and dragged him out of the bar.

__

He'd returned to the comfort of the Bannered Mare several hours later, feeling irate. His ears rang, and his head swam from the thudding of the music and the flaring of the strobe lights in the club.

The bar was by now almost deserted - those who had not been there to drink themselves silly had left, and those who had were long gone elsewhere. He checked the clock on the way in.

One o'clock. Christ, the night had hardly started and he was already sick of it. He wondered what Pilsner had made of him leaving so early. The brewer had caught him sneaking out, after all.

He had hoped to slip out unnoticed, as Bonbon had now attached herself to Lucky, and didn't show signs of repenting. He hadn't particularly cared about that, as Bonbon had continued to drink at an astounding rate. She appeared to be determined to keep her forehooves wrapped around the neck of at least one stallion. The fact that he hadn't made an advance on her despite all her sultry hints was all the signal she needed to pass him up.

As he exited the dingy club, Pilsner followed, trying to coerce him to stay. the neon lights above their head blared, only barely illuminating the two figures as they broke out into the fresh air.

"...You're really leaving?" asked Pilsner.

"Yeah. I'm just feeling a little sick."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"...I dunno. I'm just not in the mood at the moment."

"Dude, the chick-to-guy ratio is like, three to one in there."

"Yeah, I know."

"And you still don't want...?" Pilsner raised an eyebrow.

Caramel sighed.

"Nah, not tonight."

There was a long pause. The beat of the music was still audible from indoors, but other then that, silence reigned outside. The bitter cold sent an unpleasant feeling shooting up Caramel's spine - but maybe that was because he feared the ridicule of his friend.

To his surprise, though, Pilsner's silhuoette nodded.

"You know, that's okay."

Caramel stared in disbelief.

"I'm sorry?"

A hoof permeated the darkness, clapping onto his shoulder.

"Don't worry about it. Everypony gets cold feet sometimes."

A warm prickle of heat flushed into his face.

"It's not that!" He said hotly.

A soft laugh reached his ears. Caramel squinted closer into the darkness, and saw the white flash of Pilsner's broad smile.

"I know dude, I'm just messing with you. See you tomorrow, bud. Hope you feel better."

Caramel stood, stunned, as his friend turned and re-entered the club. He had not been expecting a reprieve from the eternally wired jock. In fact, he'd been expecting never to live it down at all, or at least be on the end of some criticism.

Now, as the cosiness of Bannered Mare encroached on him for the second time that night, he felt a grin pass over his face. Thank Celestia for Pilsner. At the moment, all he wanted was a nice place to sit and mull over his own inadequacy with mares, and the tall, oak barstools that now lay empty in front of the almost-empty bar was the perfect place to be.

The barmaid had eyed him curiously as he drew the small chair up and ordered a beer, and as he slowly drank it, she continued to watch him.

"You're back so soon?" she asked, breaking his unpleasant reverie. Caramel looked up.

She had a glass in one hoof and was drying it off with the other, watching him with half-interest. Nearly all of the customers had gone home, save a few diehard old stallions in the corner making love to their glasses of whiskey. Presumably, he was worth talking to.

"Howdy. Yeah, I am." He couldn't help but sound depressed, and he removed the borrowed ten gallon from his head, depositing on the bar and running a hoof through his brown mop of hair.

"What's up?" the barkeep asked, as if she were attuned to his thoughts.

"Nothing."

"Well tell me all about it, then."

Caramel drained the rest of his beer, wiping a hoof across his mouth.

"Why should I tell you anything?"

She smiled sympathetically before taking the empty bottle. The magenta barmaid turned momentarily, stooping low and out of sight below the counter. He heard two small clinks of metal, and when she returned to full height, she had with her two frosty beers. One she set before caramel, and the other she took a long pull out of - her lips seperating from bottle with a melodic twang.

"I own a bar," she said after a moment. "I listen for a living. Now talk."

Her request was not so much pleasant as it was an order. Such nerve! She didn't care who he was, or where he came from, she just wanted to talk.

He liked her almost instantly.

"I'm Caramel," he said, feeling a small smile curl across his lips for the first time that night.

"Berry Punch."

For a moment, the two sat in silence - or rather, Caramel sat while she slouched against the counter.

"I'm rubbish with mares," he said lamely. Berry Punch snorted in amusement.

"Pretty lame thing to be bummed out about," she said.

Caramel's spirit fell to a new low.

"Yeah, I know."

A brief silence fell.

"Those guys you were with earlier were your friends?"

"That's right."

"They seemed alright," she said, after a moment of reflection.

"They're wonderful," Caramel said. Defending his friends was a gut reaction, but the emotion was well-placed. He felt immensely grateful to Pilsner for not laughing at him. Berry smiled in response, brushing the magenta mane out of her way with a hoof.

"The English stallion was pretty cute. Whatever his name was."

"His name's Frederick. He's also got a girlfriend."

The dreamy expression fell from her face.

"Yeah, shoulda guessed."

"Sorry to burst your bubble."

"Don't apologise. All the good ones have mares already."

Here, Caramel glanced up from his beer bottle. Berry wore a tired, unamused expression, and was mulling over her own drink with some relish, rolling the brownish liquor around, and causing a small whirlpool to form amid its murky depths.

"Yeah, it sucks missing the boat," she added.

"Well at least you can find ones you like."

Berry laughed.

"What, Bonbon wasn't good enough for you?"

He winced at the sound of her name.

"No, I just don't..." He paused, thinking of how to express his dislike for her. "She's better than good. I'm just not really into the whole one-night stand thing right now."

"Ah. You want a real girl?"

It shamed him to admit it, even though it was true. The alcohol within his system battled with his temptation to simply not reply, and in the end, he simply nodded his head.

"Well, don't you worry a bit about that."

"Huh?"

Again, he forced his eyes up from his drink. This time, she was staring at him, a small smile on her face.

"Plenty of nice mares out there. You just gotta get to know em' a little."

"Huh?" he repeated blankly. The door creaked open behind him.

She did not reply to his inquiry, but instead shifted her gaze to just over his shoulder.

"Oh, hey."

Caramel turned his head to glance over at the new arrival as she sat on a bar stool, a few seats away.

She was a fairly young mare. How young Caramel couldn't quite guess, but he knew she must've been at least a year or two younger than him. She had a straw-like mane tied up in a long, rough ponytail that ran to her shoulders, and atop her head sat a brown, wide-brimmed cowpony's hat that shaded her face. Her coat was a dusty dark orange, and from underneath the hat's brim were two pine-green eyes, as deep as two pools of emerald water.

"Howdy, Berry. Jus' here for the pickup."

Berry Punch gave her a warm smile, turning away from Caramel.

"Sure thing." she surveyed the bottles on the wall behind her for a moment before letting out a small, dismayed noise.

"Oh, I put them in the back room. Bear with me a sec."

She made her way away from Caramel, past the taps of cold beer and bottles of dry whiskey that hung on the walls, turning sharply right and pushing her way through a small door. A brass plaque on the door's front read employees only.

"No problem," the newcomer said to the now empty bar.

She spoke with the slight drawl of a southerner. Perhaps that was what made him do a double take. The mare saw the movement out of the corner of her vision, and glanced over at him, catching Caramel looking over at her. Her emerald eyes flashed with a glimmer of irritation.

"What?" she snapped at him. "Never seen a girl wearin' a Stesson before?"

Caramel flustered for words.

"What? Oh, err, no..."

"Well quit gawkin', then!"

He turned away immediately, feeling immensely stupid and admonished. He said nothing, but looked at his beer morosely until Berry returned from the back room, carrying a small crate.

"Here you go," she said, folding the top of the crate closed before planting it onto the tabletop with a loud, clattering thud. "Empty bottles."

"Thanks, Berry." The southern mare's voice sounded a little less fierce. "I'll see ya tomorrow, alright?"

"See you," Berry replied cheerfully.

There was a brief pause before Caramel dared to look up. He did not want to attract the attention of the irate mare once more. He was slightly relieved when he heard the clattering of the door as it opened and closed behind him, and when he looked up, he found Berry resuming her lounging boredom in front of him.

"Wow, what's her problem?"

Berry blinked at him.

"Pardon?"

"That mare. She nearly bit my head off for just looking at her."

"Ah, right," Berry said. "don't mind her." She waved the hoof that wasn't wrapped around the beer bottle casually. "She's nasty when it comes close to that time of the year."

Caramel's eyes widened in shock. Berry saw his reaction and, after adding two and two, nearly sprayed him with amber fluid as she snorted, struggling to halt her laughter.

"Oh, Celestia, no! That's not what I meant.." She wiped a hoof across her mouth and nouse, recovering slightly from her accident. "She's an apple farmer. Applebucking starts in a few days, so this is her busy season. She's up all hours of the night these days, making deliveries."

"Ah, right."

Berry hastily changed the subject.

"So, you in town for long?"

"A few days, maybe," Caramel replied. "We're just backpacking around."

"How long you been doing that for?" she asked.

"Hmm..." Caramel scratched his chin with a spare hoof. "About four months now. It's been pretty good, but not so much recently." He shrugged. "Guess I'm over this whole travel thing already."

The barmaid nodded, jutting her lower lip out thoughtfully before speaking.

"Well, have you ever thought of staying in some place for a while?"

"Nah, I don't have the money to hang around for too long. I'm going home in about a month."

"So get a job, and stay here."

It was an enticing idea. He liked the quiet town and its curious little houses and shops that could have fallen straight out of a storybook. He liked the countryside, too - that much he had to admit.

But the comfort of home, or at least his shared house in Canterlot, seemed like a far more real prospect. The thought of seeing his friend Scratch and his own room were things he could definitely look forward to - guaranteed by their very nature. In fact, they were the only things that had kept him in a good mood for the last week or so.

When he added all this to his ever-growing weariness of traveling, the quiet serenity of his own warm bed seemed like a hard offer to beat.

"I dunno," Caramel replied with chagrin. "It'd have to pay well, and there'd have to be room for my buddies. A deal that good seems pretty damn unlikely."

Berry grinned.

"Well, I have good news. I know where you can get jobs. Four of them, in fact."

Caramel blinked. Was she serious?

"Hell, maybe he needs more help." The mare said lazily. "I reckon the more, the merrier."

He ignored her last statement, pressing her swiftly.

"...Four jobs? Do they pay well?"

"Oh yeah," the barmaid said, her eyes widening in emphasis. "I've had friends who've worked there. It's hard work. The manager's a bit of a quiet guy, but a real nice soul. A great friend of mine."

Home was pretty tempting. So was Scratch. But the proposal that lay before him was doubly so. He leaned forward in anticipation.

"Tell me about it."