Chapter Fourteen: Summer

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The sight of them together made Spike sick to his stomach.

A large part of him felt that, despite the revulsion he felt, he should still be happy. Twilight was with her friends again, laughing hysterically as she listened to Pinkie’s story. There was no doubt in his mind that this was the happiest he had seen Twilight in months, and it brought on a distracting wave of nostalgia.

Applejack seemed to have completely forgotten about Fluttershy’s condition. She was too busy leaning against the pegasus as she gasped between fits of laughter, her prosthetic leg making a wooden sound every time it thumped against the gazebo floor. Were this Spike’s first time laying eyes on Fluttershy, he wouldn’t have guessed that she even had a condition. It might be considered unusual for somepony to wear sunglasses so early in the morning, but her wide-brimmed hat and her body-concealing shawl were nothing out of the ordinary. She timidly held up a forehoof, kindly asking for a moment to collect herself as she wiped joyful tears from the corners of her eyes with the other.

Despite the request, Rainbow Dash loudly echoed the last, and what she probably felt were the funniest things Pinkie had said, stirring everypony right back up again. She dropped lower to the floor every few flaps, doubled over with laughter and barely able to stay airborne in her current state. Pinkie Pie was, surprisingly, the quietest one at that particular moment. She appeared clueless, as though she didn’t get her own joke, but Spike sincerely doubted that. She giggled a little as she looked around at her friends, though her eyes lingered on Fluttershy. Like a butterfly pausing on a flower petal, her laughter was briefly replaced with a tender smile before she went back to giggling and curiously looking around.

Pinkie’s cheer dissolved as she met Spike’s gaze, however, and she tilted her head, brow knitting slightly. She began going through the motions of mouthing “you okay?” when Spike looked away, and then found himself unable to look anywhere else.

There she was. Rarity: the object of his affection and the mare of his dreams. For an instant, he was able to forget that she was sitting neatly in Rover’s lap, her forehoof clutched in his big, fuzzy paw. The instant passed all too swiftly. The fanciest unicorn of the group reclined against her diamond dog perch as she giggled dryly, holding her free hoof over her muzzle. Rover, on the other claw, was making the stupidest chuckling sound Spike could imagine, slapping the side of his thigh with his free paw.

Rover’s every motion made the dragon’s scales crawl.

Having seen more than he could bear, Spike got up from Twilight’s side with the intent of quietly stepping out of the gazebo. He caught another glimpse of Pinkie, who was now raising her brows at the unicorn beside him.

“Are you gonna be alright?” he heard Twilight whisper, briefly locking eyes with her.

All Spike could think to do was shrug. Twilight frowned, but nodded. Without her saying a word, he understood her gentle apology. He gave the group one last sweeping glance and saw that none of the others had noticed the recent turn of events. That was just fine with him. He raised his claw in a half hearted wave to Pinkie and Twilight, turning toward the steps.

“Oh,” Rarity called, stopping the dragon in his tracks. “Spike, are you leaving?”

A chill ran down his spine as he glanced back, hoping more than anything that she would leap out of Rover’s lap and sweep him up in a hug, begging him to stay. If I could just put these feelings into words, he told himself, maybe she’ll understand the mistake she’s making.

“Yeah,” he said on impulse, kicking himself for answering so plainly.

Rarity smiled, looked at Rover, and then back to Spike. “Would you please get us some more punch?” She fluttered her eyelids, resting her head against the side of Rover’s neck. “We would be ever so grateful, Spikey-wikey.”

The scream welling up in the dragon’s chest withered to an inaudible groan by the time it reached his throat.

“Yeah,” he muttered, feeling completely defeated.

Celestia gracefully cantered up the steps as he shambled down, Luna just a few paces behind her. He was so intent on turning everything out that when one of them said something, he didn’t even bother trying to comprehend what was said, or whom had said it. Spike stopped, however, when he felt somepony nudge the back of his head. The sun princess smiled as he looked back at her.

 “I asked how you were fairing. I think it’s safe to say the answer to that question is a not well.”

Spike let out a long sigh, his shoulders hanging as he deflated. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

“When the one who always has a witty remark handy is wearing a frown at the Summer Sun Celebration, yes, I would say so.” She turned, and sat on the steps beside him. “Twilight told me already. You don’t need to hide it.”

“Aw man…” Spike flopped down on his rump, leaning back into his palms. “I know it sounds stupid—”

“It most certainly does not sound stupid, Spike. Your feelings are just as important as anypony else’s.” Celestia looked up and away as Luna and Twilight called for her, and she offered a brilliant smile. “I’ll be just a moment.”

Lowering her head, and wearing a much gentler smile, she continued. “But what I want you to understand is that Rover is not trying to hurt you. Rarity is following her heart, and as much as it may sting, you must respect her decision.”

“Great.”

“And Spike, remember that as far as dragons are concerned, you’re still very, very young. You have plenty of time to find the love of your life.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled as he looked down at the steps under him. “Thanks, I guess.”

Celestia maintained her smile as she lightly nodded, but he could see that her expression had lost a bit of its luster. With nothing further, she joined the gathering within the gazebo to the sound of eager welcome. Of all the voices raised in greeting, it was Rarity’s that he heard the clearest. Spike swiftly decided to bring his emotional storm-cloud elsewhere.

There was certain lethargy in his step. An entire night spent partying in Canterlot was catching up to him, intensified by the draining sensation of watching his dream girl fawn over a creature he despised. The sun was still fairly low on the horizon, having risen no more than an hour prior, but the baby blue of the morning sky failed to bring him any piece of mind. He had anticipated feeling this way on the ride over to Ponyville, quietly confiding in Twilight and accepting her reassurance as fact, but time had yet to numb the hurt of seeing Rarity cooing in Rover’s embrace.

Wandering aimlessly, he soon found himself in Ponyville’s town square, which was absolutely saturated with party-goers, as it was every year on that day. The attendees were locals and visitors alike, familiar faces singing and dancing with fancier ponies from out of town. New to this mixture were diamond dogs, many of which seemed to be wearing clothing much too fancy for them. Closer inspection, when passing by one such canine, revealed Rarity’s handiwork. The knots in his stomach tightened even further.

Spike felt the urge to flee, but the notion was as silly to him as it was appealing. I’m a little old for running away from home, he told himself, and where am I gonna go where no one would recognize me or think to come looking for me? A daydream unfolded in the back of his mind; meeting Rarity on some lonely road away from town. The thought of Rarity seeking him out was poisoned as he imagined Rover tagging along on the end of a leash. He felt bile rising in his throat.

At that moment, hiding under a table seemed like the best course of action. No one would really expect that, he decided.

Spike hastily weaved his way through the crowd, muttering pardons as he bumped and pushed his way to the nearest tablecloth-covered surface. Crouching as low as he could, he squeezed under the table and let the fabric drape behind him, exhaling a sigh of relief once concealed. It was only then that he realized he had company.

Sweetie Belle’s eyes widened as they exchanged glances. For several awkward moments, they stared in silence, blinking, but otherwise statuesque.

 “Oh,” Spike eventually mumbled, averting his eyes.

Sweetie Belle sighed quietly, her look of surprise quickly fading to irritation as he chanced a second look. “Did Scootaloo send you?”

Spike cleared his throat, lifting one of his claws off the ground to scratch the side of his neck. “Scootaloo? Uh, no.”

Cocking her head, she asked, “Applebloom?”

“No.” He glanced over his shoulder at the tablecloth wavering behind him. “Nopony sent me.”

This time it was Sweetie Belle’s turn to murmur, “Oh.”

Spike began to back up, tucking his tail between his legs. “I uh… I guess I’ll go find another table, then.”

“You don’t have to. I’m just—” The young mare took a deep breath, and then exhaled sharply. “Hiding.”

His retreat came to a halt. “Wait, you’re hiding from somepony?”

She nodded slowly. “Are you hiding, too?”

Hesitantly, Spike muttered, “Yeah.”

The tiniest little smile inched across her lips. “Who are you hiding from?”

“Your sister,” Spike droned, “and her flea bitten boyfriend.”

“Oh gross.” Sweetie Belle stuck out her tongue and shuddered. “They’re getting all cuddly in public, aren’t they?”

A groan was the first thing to Spike’s frowning lips. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

Sweetie Belle gritted her teeth. “Right. Sorry.”

He shrugged, frown subsiding. “It’s alright. So… you’re expecting somepony to come looking for you?”

“Yeah… I guess so,” she idly replied, looking away.

Spike crawled a bit closer, tilting his head. “Who?”

“Scootaloo. Or I guess Applebloom,” Sweetie Belle waved a hoof around, frowning, “since Scootaloo is too busy telling everyone her dumb story.”

Spike sat down, tucking his knees against his chest. “What story?”

“How she got her stupid cutie mark!” She thumped a hoof against the ground.

His eyes widened. “Wow, Scootaloo got her cutie mark?” Immediately after he had asked, Sweetie Belle’s expression darkened. He shook his head. “Uh… nevermind. So, how come you’re hiding from your friends?”

But as the words left his mouth, he felt like he already knew the answer. Looking down at her flank confirmed it. Sweetie Belle shifted away from him, covering her exposed and blank thigh with a foreleg. As if on cue, Scootaloo’s voice filled the silence.

“And that’s when I realized that there was a whole swarm of parasprites chasing me, so I—”

“It looks stupid,” Sweetie Bell grumbled, “I don’t know what she’s so excited about. Her story is stupid too. That’s probably not even how she got it.”

Spike leaned a bit closer, squeezing his shins. “Maybe not, but… you don’t hate her for it, do you?”

“No. I don’t. I’m just—” She huffed, giving him a sideways glance. “It’s not fair. What did I do to deserve this?”

“I don’t think you did anything wrong. I think that’s just how life is sometimes.” With a little sigh, Spike shrugged. “And believe me; life can be pretty unfair. I do know that great things can happen too, though.”

His feet slid forward as he rested his claws on his knees. “I’m not saying it doesn’t totally suck, but Celestia kinda told me that I still have my whole life ahead of me, and she would probably tell you the same thing.”

Sweetie Belle wrinkled her nose. “Don’t give up? Yeah, that’s not something I’ve heard before.”

“What I think she meant was, it’s not the end of the world. I’m feeling pretty lousy, but I’m still Spike.” He raised a claw, gesturing toward her. “Are you still Sweetie Belle?”

She took a breath, but no words came. After a moment, she murmured, “Well… yeah.”

“Then who cares if you don’t have your cutie mark? You got bullied for it?” He shrugged again, looking her in the eyes. “So what? You’re all grown up now. If someone does pick on you, that’s a pretty clear sign that they’re totally childish. You shouldn’t even care what they have to say.”

He punctuated with a snort. “And anyway; I’d rather hang out under a table at a party with you, then with some jerk that does have a cutie mark and has the nerve to tease you.”

There was no response from Sweetie Belle. She looked down at her thigh again, her hoof idly fidgeting against it. He cleared his throat softly.

“What I’m trying to say is; your cutie mark isn’t what makes you a good pony.” He lifted a claw, pointing at her. “You’re what makes you a good pony. You know? What’s inside; who you are.”

“This might sound kinda weird,” she said at last, “but I was a little disappointed when you said that no one told you to come find me.”

Spike shook his head slowly. “No, I understand. You just wanted someone to notice you were gone. You wanted to know that they care about you.”

Sweetie Belle nodded, looking down at her hooves. “That sounds about right… you’re a pretty good listener, you know.” She smiled, glancing up at him, then quickly looking away. “Thank you.”

 “Yeah, I get that a lot.” He chuckled and waved a claw. “I don’t mind.”

“Also…” She let herself trail off as Spike met her gaze. It seemed for a moment as though she had decided to keep it to herself. Instead, she giggled softly. “I’m kinda glad you did find me, even if you weren’t looking for me.”

Sweetie Belle lifted her hoof to the knuckles of his claw, leaving her flank unguarded. “I was lonely.”

Again, the pair fell silent. This time, however, the quiet was not uncomfortable. He turned his palm toward the offered hoof, gently taking it as though it were a blooming flower.

Spike found himself smiling. “Me too.”

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“So are you gonna gimmie some of that or what?”

Big Macintosh paused mid-swallow. This was hardly the first time he had heard Applebloom ask for a taste when he had been drinking something strong, but she had never been quite so forward about it until that moment. The rest of the whiskey found its way to his stomach, and he chuckled.

“Ah’m serious!” Applebloom flicked an ear, then grinned. “And you can’t weasel your way out of it this time,” she lifted her head, looking especially smug, “cause Ah ain’t a filly anymore!”

All Macintosh could think to do in response was nod and say, “Ah reckon yer right.”

Applebloom looked genuinely surprised as he got up from his chair and crossed the porch to pass her the bottle. She sat down and took it gingerly, as if she were afraid of breaking it. Her eyes darted up from the homemade label, meeting her brother’s curious gaze. Again, Macintosh nodded, confirming that the offer was genuine. Before he could caution her, she tipped the bottle up, and her cheeks swelled with hard liquor. Macintosh stepped aside just fast enough to avoid being sprayed. It was impossible for him to contain his laughter.

Amidst her coughing fit, Applebloom managed to shout, “Why in Celestia’s name do you ponies drink this stuff?!”

“It’s an acquired taste,” he replied, still laughing. When he had calmed himself to the occasional snicker he added, “And yer only supposed to take a lil’ swig at a time, ‘specially if it’s yer first time. You want to try again?”

A groan gurgled past her lips as she shook her head furiously. She forked the bottle over to him. “No thank you!”

Macintosh shrugged and took another swig, then corked the bottle and set it on the railing. “Gonna be okay there, sis?” She stuck out her tongue, and he gave her a few firm pats on the back, smiling. “We oughta get to work then.”

He could hear her just a few paces behind as he stepped out into the noonday sun, his shadow clinging to him as he crossed the yard to reach the barn. Occasionally, he would hear Applebloom clearing her throat. She waited patiently as he heaved one of the doors open. From the entrance, it was plain to see that the right side of the interior had taken on a more industrial appearance. A sturdy table stood beneath an enormous tack board that took up a large portion of the wall. The table had been weighed down with forged metal and carved wood alike, stained with oil and black powder across its tool cluttered surface. The tack board displayed a series of overlapping and ratty-looking blueprints, with conceptual drawings scattered across the blue and white collage.

In front of that were a series of unevenly spaced mannequins, some of which were wearing rather scrappy-looking reins and harnesses. Most of those harnesses had been rigged with long, horizontal carvings that hung over the side, running from mid back to well beyond the chest. Macintosh stepped past these and went straight for the table. Applebloom moved up beside him a moment later, sweeping a foreleg along the crowded tabletop to clear a space. Satisfied, she looked up to the board and began studying the most recent blueprint.

“You an’ Dash were able to get the impurities outt’a the ore?” he heard her ask, as he rooted around for what was needed.

Macintosh nodded, hefting up a thin metal cylinder and setting it down in the clearing. “Eeyep, near as Ah can tell.” He began moving the more intricate bits, careful not to drop anything in transfer.

“Good,” Applebloom murmured, inspecting the pieces as he presented them to her. She had already begun laying them out in accordance to the design hanging above. “I’ll order some more from Rarity while I’m visiting Zecora tomorrow. No problems with the molds?”

The wooden parts were next. “Nope.” He made sure to blow off any shavings he spotted before passing them to her. “Poured in real smooth. No imperfections.”

Her ears perked, and he could almost see the light bulb flicking on over her head. “Hey, we should probably put some kinda roof over the forge before winter.” She glanced over at him, brows arched. “Gonna get mighty cold out there, even if Dash manages to keep a little hole in the clouds for us.”

“Eeyep.” Macintosh chuckled quietly. “That’ll be our next project, then.”

Applebloom gave a little nod as she turned back toward the pieces she had arranged, picking up the longest of the lot; the metal cylinder. There was a large drill situated next to the table, with a slender drill bit in place. She had set the cylinder into the device around the same time that Macintosh had retrieved the earmuffs that had been hanging on the other side of the table. He smiled as he offered ear protection, receiving a “Thank you!” for his consideration. Once he had slipped his pair on, and she had done the same, they exchanged nods and she turned on the drill.

Even though he knew what this assembly was supposed to look like on paper, seeing the actual components was fascinating, as was the knowledge that he had personally assisted in their creation. The latter brought a troubling question to mind.

“Hey uh,” he leaned a little closer to her, “this thing is gonna work, right?”

At these words, Applebloom stopped working and turned off the drill. She lifted one side of her ear muffs and glanced back at him. “What’d you say?”

“I said this thing is gonna work, right?” The raised eyebrow and grin that his sister donned was already making him feel stupid for asking. “It ain’t gonna explode or anything when Ah pull the trigger?”

The snorting giggle that bubbled its way out of Applebloom startled him. “Yer not gonna fire this before Ah test it, Mac!” Macintosh opened his mouth to speak, but she slapped a hoof against his chest, grinning from ear to ear. “That don’t mean Ah’m gonna fire it mahself, smartass. Sheesh, ya think Ah’m crazy?”

When Macintosh shrugged, grinning nervously, Applebloom pouted and huffed. “Nopony’s gonna touch a gun that ain’t proven. Ah’m gonna tie a string to the trigger or use a long stick or something.” She lifted a hoof and jerked it back a few times for emphasis.

Macintosh smiled and nodded. “Good. Ah’m just makin’ sure.” He put a foreleg around the back of her neck and gave her a little squeeze. “Ah ain’t tryin’ to rain on yer parade, Ah just don’t want you to get hurt. We already buried enough Apples for one year.”

It got uncomfortably quiet after that. Macintosh cleared his throat. “Sorry, that probably weren’t the best joke to make.”

Applebloom turned off the drill and looked up, meeting his gaze. “Actually, Mac… Ah know Applejack and Granny Smith don’t really wanna think about it more than they have to, an’ Ah guess Ah haven’t really tried talkin’ to Dash yet, but… well, it’s been a few weeks now and—” She pawed at the packed dirt underhoof, looking away. “Ah mean it’s okay if you don’t—”

He shook his head, rubbing his hoof against her withers. “Ah don’t mind talkin’ about it, Applebloom.”

“What do you think?” she cautiously asked.

“Ah think the whole thing is a mess.” Macintosh sighed, shaking his head. His hoof slipped back to the floor. “Somepony shoulda done something before it got this bad. Celestia, Luna; shoot, even one of us Apples might have made a difference.”

“You think Applejack and her friends could have stopped it?” she asked, sounding hopeful.

Macintosh shrugged. “Ah dunno. Maybe.” He returned her gaze, feeling melancholy. “Anything would’a been better than this; it didn’t have to be this way.” He looked away, focusing on the door. “An’ the worst part is that Ah feel like we’re just as guilty as the buffalo. Braeburn was here, in our town, on our farm, at our table. If Ah had known they were gonna do somethin’ like this—”

“We met Little Strongheart, though, an’ you’ve known Braeburn for years more than Ah have.” She leaned closer, knitting her brows in the corner of his vision. “Ah can’t see ‘em getting’ anypony killed on purpose.”

“That don’t change what they did,” he snorted.

“But they tried to warn Appleoosa!” She paused, then added, “Didn’t they?”

“Maybe they did, but that still don’t make it right. They weren’t bad ponies, Applebloom.” He looked her dead in the eyes. “They were our kin, an’ they didn’t deserve that. They were just tryin’ to make a livin’. Put all that land to use.”

Applebloom slowly shook her head, never once breaking eye contact. “It was never their land to begin with, Mac. Our family took it from them, and they just kept takin’ and takin’ even after that.” She glanced down at the floor. “After all this time, Ah think the buffalo were just tryin’ to give Appleoosa a taste of their own medicine.”

He snorted again, lifting his hoof to stomp, but refraining. “There’s a big difference between dammin’ up a river to make a reservoir, and blowin’ up that dam to force the ponies to leave. None of the buffalo drowned when the river started turnin’ into a lake.” He thrust his raised hoof toward the door. “They had time to leave. They had time to find somewhere else to live!”

“An’ so did the ponies at Appleoosa!” Applebloom straightened up, standing as tall as she could. “They knew what they were doin’ to the buffalo, an’ they didn’t care! When they were warned, most of our family out there chose not to believe it! That ain’t the buffalos’ fault!”

“So what‘re you sayin’, Applebloom?” Macintosh loomed over her, eyes narrowed. “Celestia should pardon the buffalo tribe an’ their accomplices of mass murder?!” She cringed away from him, and he felt a pang of remorse in his chest. He swiftly backed away, sighing. “Sorry.”

“I-it’s alright,” Applebloom murmured after several moments. “An’ Ah dunno. Ah’m sayin’ that it seems like it was an accident. They meant to blow up that dam, but Ah don’t think they wanted to hurt anypony.”

Macintosh shook his head, exhaling through his nose. “Yer probably right, sis, but that don’t mean a whole lot now that they’ve got blood on their hooves.”

“What’s—” She swallowed looking down at her hooves, ears splayed. “What’s gonna happen to them—to Braeburn—if they all get caught?”

“Ah really don’t know.” He gave a slight shrug. “Braeburn is still our kin, but Celestia damnit if he hasn’t gone and screwed everything up. Ah know yer tryin’ to see the bright side in all this but Ah can’t see it ending well for him, or anypony or buffalo involved.”

Applebloom said nothing, still hanging her head. Macintosh heaved a deep breath and leaned down, nuzzling her between the ears. “Listen, Ah know Applejack and Granny Smith got a little sore when you tried discussin’ this with them, but Ah ain’t mad at you or anythin’ like that.” Her eyes followed him as he stood up straight, stretching his neck. “Ah just wanna to step out an’ get some air. Ah’ll be back soon.”

“Alright. Ah’ll be here.” She turned toward the drill, then glanced his way. “Thanks for talkin’ about it with me, Mac.”

Macintosh managed to get in, “Anytime, sis,” before she slipped her earmuffs back on and the drill buzzed to life.

The droning grind of metal on metal was significantly muffled by the barn doors once closed. He stood just beyond them, eyes closed, muzzle pointed skyward. Already, he began to feel his calm return, taking a deep breath of the warm summer air. Thoughts of Brie filled up his idle mind, bringing a smile with it. Their much anticipated trip to Manehattan for the Innovations Exposition was fast approaching. His mind shifted gears, from fond musings of his bovine girlfriend to anxiety over how well their pony-engineered rifle would stack up to griffon-manufactured firearms.

It was the sound of conversation that brought him back to reality. He opened his eyes to find Fluttershy on the steps of the front porch, Applejack emerging from within. Smiles, waves, and greetings were exchanged, just faintly audible from a distance.

Fluttershy was just as pudgy as she had been the last time he had seen her, which he didn’t mind, but there was something about her now that caught his eye. Is it the dress? He wondered. Macintosh didn’t have much of an eye for fashion, but her outfit just about screamed Rarity. Even though he couldn’t see hide or hair of her below the neck or above the tail, the dress she wore did a fine job of accentuating her curves, making her appear voluptuous more than anything. He began to wonder if Rarity would make something similar for Brie when Applejack looked his way. Fluttershy followed her example, sunglasses catching the light, the wide brim of her sun hat bobbing as she waved.

While returning the gesture, it occurred to him that he had never apologized for shooting her in the hip. Maybe she forgot about it, he reassured himself. Best not bring it up. She might get all fangy, like what’s-her-name.

Rainbow Dash slipped through an upstairs window moments later, and after another round of hellos, the three of them went back to chattering. Chuckling to himself, Macintosh turned and slipped back into the barn.

\/ /\ /\ \/

It felt to Rainbow Dash as though it would be easier to turn tail and fly away, but her hooves remained glued to the spot. The spotty warmth she felt across her body told her that the sun was shining through gaps in the foliage, hovering high above in the sweet spot between afternoon and dusk. A breeze was rolling through the area too, rustling leaves and tugging at her tail and mane, bringing her the smells of a clear summer day. These feelings were distant and detached. It certainly wasn’t quiet either. Pinkie Pie was giggling like a filly and the air was full of birdsong, accented by the occasional, distant shout of Applejack or one of her siblings.

Pinkie was leaning closer, but it didn’t fully register, even as Pinkie began to wave a hoof in her face. “Well aren’t ya gonna say hi back, Dash?” Pinkie finally asked.

Dash nodded slowly, scolding herself. What’s wrong with me? She’s right there! Just say something, idiot! She tried to say ‘hi’, but all she managed was a quiet “Huuh.” Pinkie took the opportunity to lift a hoof to Dash’s jaw, working it as though she were a puppet.

“Hey there Scootaloo,” Pinkie murmured out of the side of her mouth, in her best Rainbow Dash voice. “It’s been a heck of a long time! How’ve ya been?!”

Scootaloo was snickering behind Pinkie, which naturally made Pinkie start laughing along. After a series of blinks, Dash regained her senses and shook free of Pinkie’s grasp, chuckling in spite of her embarrassment.

“What, uh—” Dash pawed at the ground, her eyes darting from Pinkie to Scootaloo to the ground, and everything in between. “What she said,” she grumbled, finally forcing herself to meet Scootaloo’s gaze.

“I’ve been pretty good!” Scootaloo smiled, tossing her head to get her mane out of her eyes. “I moved out a few months ago, been living in the back room of Pinkie’s bakery.”

“Pretty cool,” Dash commented, grinning. “Sounds a lot like Pinkie’s old gig.”

“It kinda is!” Scootaloo cheerfully replied. Pinkie nodded in agreement as Dash briefly glanced her way. “I don’t really bake though. I run deliveries. That’s actually how I got my cutie mark!”

Dash nodded enthusiastically. “I heard about that! Way to go, kiddo!” She leaned a little closer, tilting her head. “Let me see the thing. I haven’t gotten a good look at it yet.”

With eyes that practically sparkled, Scootaloo turned to the side, holding herself proudly as Dash inspected her cutie mark. The image of a crude map scrawled on a winged roll of parchment had taken residence on Scootaloo’s flanks. The top and bottom of the map curled inwards, and a pair of wings sprouted to the left and the right, fanned out as if mid flight. After a few moments and a thoughtful nod, Dash eased back. She took a breath and opened her mouth, but Scootaloo beat her to the punch.

“So there I was,” Scootaloo began, “running a whole wedding cake from one end of Duskhoof to the other, when all the sudden a huuuuge gust of wind blows me off course and sends me right into the Everfree Forest!”

Pinkie grinned and nodded as Dash met her gaze with a look of disbelief. “Uh-huh,” Dash responded, blinking once.

Scootaloo spread her wings and reared up, waving her forelegs in front of her. “And as I was trying to even out, skimming over the treetops, timber wolves started leaping out after me like piranhas!”

“Really.” She glanced over at Pinkie again, receiving an even more intense grin.

“I got so caught up in trying to avoid them that I didn’t even realize I was flying toward…” She was flapping now, hovering a few inches off the ground. Dash rolled her eyes, but Scootaloo didn’t seem to notice. “Canterlot!”

“Canterlot,” Dash repeated flatly.

“And uh… I ended up in Celestia’s throne room!” Scootaloo’s eyes darted to Pinkie and Dash looked just in time to see Pinkie moving her foreleg back and forth along her throat. Pinkie immediately dropped her hoof and went back to grinning. “And she thought the cake was for her, but I said, even if you’re a princess, I can’t deprive our paying customers of their order!

“Celestia was so impressed that she had her guards escort me to the address,” Scootaloo lifted a hoof, lightly tapping her temple, “which I remembered right off the top of my head!”

“Alright, not bad.” Dash tilted her head to one side, snickering. “But how did you really get it?”

A look of surprise came over Scootaloo. Dash didn’t have a hard time imagining that she had gotten practice making that face every time somepony had called her bluff. “What do you mean how I really got it?”

“Wow Rainbow Dash, you’ve got this skepticism thing down to a tee!” Dash looked over to find that Pinkie had lifted a hoof to her own chin, studying her. “Is it in the eyebrow or the stare or the lower lip?”

“Pinkie, come on,” Scootaloo whined. Pinkie shrugged and smiled as Scootaloo looked Dash in the eyes. After a long, drawn out sigh, Scootaloo droned, “I took a few wrong turns delivering a cake for a party, got lost because I forgot my map, then flew up high enough to use landmarks to figure out where I needed to go.” She lifted her forelegs, giving unenthusiastic jazz-hooves. “Tadaaa.”

Dash snorted out a laugh, rolling her eyes again. “You don’t need to be glum about it. Not everypony has to do something incredible to get their cutie mark.”

“I got mine for throwing a party for my family,” Pinkie chimed in, nodding. “It wasn’t even anything that special compared to the totally wild and crazy parties I can throw now, but I set out a few balloons and streamers and poof,” Pinkie reared up and slapped her own flank. “Balloons on my butt!”

Scootaloo nickered quietly in defeat. “Should have stuck with the parasprite story.”

“Aaaaanyway,” Pinkie sang, “Applejack knows I’m stopping by to talk business, right?” She bobbed her head from side to side. “No roundin’ up varmints or anything like that planned for a little while?”

“I think she’s just doing a little yard-work today.” Dash ran through a brief mental checklist, glancing down the road, then back to Pinkie. “You ready to see her?”

Pinkie gave a big nod. “Mmhmm!”

“Before we do that, though—”Dash cleared her throat, trying to will herself to speak again. Alright Rainbow Dash, you can do this. Just say it already!

But before Dash could get another word in, Scootaloo spread her wings and propelled herself into the air. Dash practically leapt up after her. “Wait!”

“I’m just gonna go see what Applebloom is up to,” she called down, “Is that alright?”

“I need to—” Dash took a deep breath and looked away, holding up her hoof as Scootaloo descended. When Dash lowered it, she locked eyes with Scootaloo. “I need to say this, and I know it took me a while to actually say it to you—I’m not proud of that, either—but, I’m sorry. It was seriously un-cool of me to hit you, and I hope you can forgive me.”

“I already have, Rainbow Dash.” Scootaloo fluttered a bit closer, tenderness in her eyes. “And I shouldn’t have pushed and pushed until you reached the breaking point. I should have just left you alone, like you told me to.” She held out her hoof, and Dash took it without hesitation. “No hard feelings, honest.”

When the hoofshake ended, Dash smiled and murmured, “So… are we cool?”

“Rainbow Dash,” Scootaloo said in a matter-of-fact way, “you know we’re always gonna be cool.”

Grins were exchanged, and then Scootaloo took to the skies, flying off toward the barn in the distance.

Just like that, Rainbow Dash felt the weight of her guilt dissolve. She watched Scootaloo until the young mare had dipped out of sight. The gentle smile she wore faded just a bit when she realized that Pinkie was observing the moment, wearing a goofy grin. Pinkie was quick to whip her muzzle toward the ground when Dash turned her head.

“So AJ isn’t going to be the only one cooking, right?” Pinkie looked up from the trail of ants she had been pretending to watch as Dash asked her a question. “Like, we’ll help her out, but—”

“Oh, pffft! No!” Pinkie waved her hoof around, shaking her head. “Applejack can bring you and Big Macintosh and Applebloom with her if she wants, but Luna’s whole entire cooking staff will be there to back her up. Cup Cake and Carrot Cake, too!”

Dash nodded. “Nice! You’re cool with Luna wanting Sugarcube Corner to cater?” A few powerful flaps and she began to hover, casually fluttering down the path.

Pinkie matched her pace with a leisurely bounce. “I wanted Sugarcube Corner to cater,” Pinkie proclaimed mid-hop, putting a hoof to her chest. “She put me in charge of pretty much everything! I’m the masteress of ceremonies!”

After a snort of a laugh, Dash asked, “Awesome, but isn’t it bad for business to give that kinda spotlight to your competition?”

“I don’t really feel like our bakeries are in competition.” Pinkie shrugged as she sprang back into the air. “They still get lots and lots of customers in Ponyville, and we get lots and lots of customers in Duskhoof. I’m thinking of it like… this is like my gift to them. I wouldn’t be where I am today if they hadn’t been there to teach me.” Dash nodded thoughtfully before Pinkie loudly added, “And it’s gonna be so great! Cup and Carrot are super-duper excited! Pumpkin and Pound might even help out!”

“That sounds pretty cool, Pinkie.”

Dash focused on the end of the path, trying to imagine what Applejack might be up to, and more importantly, if she would need help with whatever it was she was doing. Barring extreme circumstances, the answer was likely no, which made her feel a bit melancholy.

She realized a moment later that it must have been obvious, because Pinkie bounded ahead of her, hopping backwards. “You alright there, Rainbow Dash?”

“Oh, yeah.” Dash met her gaze, but spoke more out of impulse than anything. “Yeah, I’m good. Sorry.”

Knowing full well that trying to get Dash to say what was on her mind was a fool’s errand, Pinkie came right out and asked, “Still thinking about Scootaloo?”

One ear flicking, Dash said, “Not so much, but thanks for having her tag along. Did she, uh—” Pinkie’s curious smile was not returned. “Did she tell anyone else? About what I did?”

“Nope.” Pinkie shook her head. “You and me and Scootaloo are the only ponies who know what happened, unless you told anypony yourself.”

“I told AJ.” Again, Dash descended into her thoughts. Applejack was the eye of her emotional storm.

Pinkie was quick to snap her back to reality. “Is she gonna be alright doing yard work with her fancy-dancy leg?” Pinkie wiggled her left-hind for emphasis.

“Definitely,” Dash swiftly answered, smiling again, if only slightly.

Pinkie nodded, ears wiggling. “And she’s gonna be alright with baking and frying for hundreds and hundreds of hungry partying ponies on Nightmare Night?”

Dash’s smile had become positively radiant. “Absolutely. Hey, don’t tell anyone I said this, but—” She looked off toward the barn again, then fixed her gaze on Pinkie. She decided that it had to be said. “To tell the truth, I was a little worried at first, when the accident happened.”

“The uh…” Pinkie gnashed her teeth and made a whisper of a roar.

“Yeah,” Dash murmured, nodding. “I didn’t tell her that because I needed to stay positive for her, but now… it’s like she never lost a leg at all.”

Pinkie bounded a little closer. “And that’s a good thing, right?”

“Oh yeah! I just feel—” Dash exhaled slowly. “I dunno, weird, I guess.”

“Cause she doesn’t need your help anymore?” Pinkie asked, canting her head to one side.

Dash nodded. “Cause she doesn’t need my help anymore. She can walk, she can jump, she can buck; she’s even getting close to galloping at top speed again.” She went quiet for a moment, reminiscing. Her chuckle was impossible to contain. “You know, I caught her bucking her dresser, one legged, literally a day or two after the attack.”

“Sounds like Applejack, alright!” Pinkie giggled, then asked, “How do you feel now that she’s recovering?”

“I—” Dash let out another little laugh, turning away. She brought a fetlock to the corner of her eye and hoped Pinkie couldn’t hear her sniffle. “I’ve never been happier about anything in my entire life, and I’m so proud of her.” She choked down the sentimentality and reapplied an air of confidence. “It was such a huge change, moving in and taking care of her, but it never felt like a burden. She’s a real tough pony; only asked for help when she absolutely knew she needed it. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t been here to help her.”

Pinkie chimed in with, “Probably would have tried to go through apple-bucking season one-legged.”

Dash laughed again, this time without the sniffles. “Probably! But, now things are going back to the way they used to be. She still loves me, but she doesn’t need me like she did when she was recovering.” She uttered a little sigh, looking up through the branches and into the sky. “Like I said, it’s not bad, it just feels,” she paused, looking down at Pinkie and shrugging. “Weird. You know?”

“I think I get it,” Pinkie said with a nod. “You’re happy but you’re also a little sad because you’re happy. Fluttershy gets like that sometimes.”

“Oh!” Dash swooped lower to the ground, and Pinkie adjusted her bounces to compensate. “How are you and Fluttershy doing?”

“Fluttershy is doing really great! She was kinda down for a little while, but she’s coming out of it. I think.”

Dash blinked a few times. “You think?”

“Well, you know how she can be.” Pinkie splayed her ears and pouted. “She doesn’t always tell everyone how she’s feeling because she’s worried it would make them upset. I guess she was feeling homesick for Ponyville and getting really bummed out about being different.” Pinkie reared up, putting her hooves to the sides of her head. “You know, like one of those existential crisis-se-se-ses.”

“Yeah… what makes you think she’s feeling better, then?”

Pinkie let go of her head, but continued to bounce on her hind legs “The way she’s acting! For a little while she just kinda stayed at home unless I really needed her help at work. It seemed like depression, and the source of it was confidence troubles, so I was super supportive and made sure to put plenty of time aside for her, bakery or not.”

She began to bounce a bit faster, still on her hind legs, but waving her forelegs around and grinning from ear to ear. “Now she goes out on her own a lot more, and comes with me when I go shopping, and she takes me to the Ponyville spa with her as long as I promise not to annoy Rarity, and since the bakery is so successful, we go out to dinner a lot, too!”

“Dinner?” Dash arched a brow. “She does still drink blood, right?”

“Oooh yeah!” Pinkie tapped the heart speckled bandaid on the side of her neck. “But I think it’s kinda hot! Sometimes I chew my lower lip until it bleeds, and then she—”

“Woaaaaaaah! Hold on there! I don’t need to hear all that, Pinkie Pie!” Dash chuckled and shook her head. “But that’s good to hear. She actually came around last month to help one of the pigs give birth.”

Pinkie’s nods became a lot more enthusiastic. “Yeah, she told me about that! Baby piggies are soooo—” Pinkie stopped abruptly as a loud bang rang out through the orchard. “What was that?!”

“Probably just somepony using the firing range.” She shrugged.

“What the hay is a firing range?!” Pinkie shouted over another bang.

Dash picked up the pace, soaring down the path. “C’mon, I’ll show you!”

\/ /\ /\ \/

The last rays of daylight filtered through the clouds like brilliant orange feathers. Fluttershy was reminded of an oil painting, the way the normally gentle atmosphere of Duskhoof was transformed into something of dreamlike intensity. It had to do with the rain, she remembered; a combination of humidity and reflected light bringing out the most vibrant of colors and shadows. She understood it as something only possible during transition from day to night, or night to day, and even then, only under the right conditions. Before daylight had become hostile and blinding, she had never really appreciated the beauty of these fleeting occasions. Now she cherished them, as a filly might cherish a rainbow, because this was the only time that sunlight did not rob of her of strength and sight.

In Luna’s garden, Fluttershy had experienced such fatigue many times, watching the sun rise until her vision blurred into a milky haze. On this summer evening, however, it was not the effect but the cause that troubled her. A little more than a year had passed since her transformation into a creature of the night. The mornings spent alone with her eyes closed, surrounded by rose bushes, had dwindled to infrequent visits. The urge to stare blankly into a mirror in an attempt to use clairvoyance had similarly diminished. There was simply too much guilt attached to those activities.

And yet, she still occasionally caught herself daydreaming about Mahara or attempting to satisfy the urge to see her. Fluttershy hated herself for it, almost as much as she hated herself for being unable to tell Pinkie Pie of her inner-conflict. Efforts had been made, but they were largely misdirected. The homesickness and longing to return to her former life, while legitimately distressful, were not the roots of her problem. It was her unresolved feelings for Mahara that were, and had always been, the heart of the turmoil. No matter how many problems she solved, so long as that keystone remained, true happiness would be unobtainable.

Fluttershy sighed quietly as she reached the same conclusion, like she had so many times prior; There is nothing I can do to get the closure I want so badly. Nothing that might help me put it all in perspective. Nothing to do… but swallow it, try to ignore it, and hope that it will fade with time.

Pinkie Pie cantered into view moments later, her energetic silhouette bringing some peace of mind. Fluttershy lifted herself off the ground, trotting toward Pinkie to meet her halfway.

“So how was the meeting? If um…” Fluttershy smiled sheepishly and lowered her head. “If you’re allowed to tell me.”

“Why wouldn’t I be allowed to tell you, silly?” Pinkie giggled and touched her nose to Fluttershy’s. “It went pretty well! Mostly just confirming stuff and going over the plan. Everyone knows what they’re supposed to do and when they’re supposed to do it, and they know what everyone else is supposed to do and when they’re supposed to do it, so everyone knows what everyone—”

“I think I get it,” Fluttershy quietly interrupted, smiling. Her ears and her smile quickly began to wilt. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, I just thought— you told me to, you know… when you start to ramble.”

Pinkie snorted out a laugh. “No-no, that was good!” She leaned in to kiss Fluttershy on the nose. “Do it just like that.”

The timid pegasus beamed. “Okay.” She gestured toward the gates at the other end of the garden, and together they stepped into a trot. “It sounds like you’re putting a lot of work into this, though. Have you ever planned something this big?”

“I sure haven’t!” Pinkie replied, her mane bobbing as she shook her head eagerly. “This one is gonna be a whopper of a party! The official Pinkie Pie party record-breaker!”

“Goodness, I can’t even imagine that.” Fluttershy looked down at her hoof as she began to paw the ground. “Do you think you have enough ponies to bring it all together?”

Pinkie shrugged mid-stride. “You know, I’m not really sure! I don’t wanna over-staff, but this is kind of a big deal and I’d rather play it safe than sorry.”

“Oh, okay.” Fluttershy glanced up again, taking a deep breath. “Well, I was thinking, and… I’d like to help.” She put on the most enthusiastic smile she could.

Pinkie Pie grinned and nodded, and then, as her eyes widened, she stumbled to a standstill. Fluttershy’s smile evaporated, fearing that her offer had somehow thrown a wrench in Pinkie’s plans.

After a few moments, Pinkie asked, “Shy… you’re totally, completely, one-hundred-seventy-three percent sure you wanna do this?” Fluttershy appreciated the concern, nodding. She had already reached a decision, but Pinkie persisted. “You don’t have to! I’m just saying, no pressure!”

“I know, Pinkie.” Fluttershy leaned toward her, nuzzling through her curly locks to kiss her on the cheek. “I mean it, though. I want to do this, if it’s okay with you, and everyone else, that is.”

All the usual energy and momentum surged back into Pinkie. With a wide grin, she wrapped her forelegs around Fluttershy’s neck, squeezing her closer. Fluttershy giggled and squirmed against Pinkie, sighing happily in the embrace.

The sound of Pinkie Pie’s heartbeat was comforting to her, and at this proximity, rather appetizing as well. There had been a time when the very thought of drinking blood had been unsettling, but it felt like so long ago. Fluttershy swallowed a bit of saliva, trying to distance her thoughts from feeding while Pinkie was speaking.

“Of course it’s okay!” Pinkie nuzzled into her mane, planting countless kisses between her ears. She was released a moment later, and they continued on their way. “I just wanna make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into! There’s gonna be a lot of ponies there, and I know Nightmare Night isn’t really your thing.”

The guards stationed at the gate bid them “good evening” as they passed through, and their hooves made a slightly louder click against the well worn cobblestone of Duskhoof’s streets. Fluttershy glanced back at the castle one more time, its darkened silhouette standing proudly against the glowing horizon. She could see Luna, standing vigilant from the highest balcony, welcoming the coming night.

Already, Fluttershy could feel her senses sharpening, her pupils expanding in the dwindling light. Something about nightfall always made her feel especially lively. With a gentle shiver, she turned back toward Pinkie.

“I don’t feel obligated or anything like that.” She tilted her head to one side, smiling and shrugging. “I just… I know that my help will be appreciated… and, well, it would be selfish of me to just stay at home while you’re working so hard.”

“That sounds like obligation to meeee,” Pinkie sang, stopping to tickle under Fluttershy’s wing.

Her wing fluttered and ruffled when teased, as though that would save it from the Pinkie Pie. “No-no! I do sincerely want to help however I can!” She gave Pinkie a pleading look, and the tickling stopped. “But I—” She heaved a small sigh, taking a few steps forward. A few steps turned back into a trot. “I hope I’m not too late.”

The bubbly mare shook her head furiously. “Not even close! I’m the one planning the thing and there’s lots and lots of stuff you could help with!” She started waggling her brows. “You could even be my assistant!”

Fluttershy giggled. “What would I be doing as your assistant?”

“Mostly following me around. Probably with a clipboard and a checklist!” Pinkie took a deep breath, her eyes widening. Fluttershy smiled, anticipating another whirlwind. “Even though the parade is my baby and I refuse to let anyone else take the lead on that because I want to make abso-posi-defi-lutely sure that it’s perfect because it’s gonna be so totally spectacular—”

“Pinkie,” Fluttershy murmured, arching her brows. Even if Pinkie had given her express permission to keep her on track, she still felt guilty every time she had to interrupt.

As if sensing this, Pinkie leaned over and gave her a quick smooch. “Okay! So besides the parade, my main job is to make sure all the pieces of this party fit together so that no one sees the seams while they’re having a good time.” Pinkie grinned and looked off to the side. “Buuuut I can be kind of a ditz sometimes, so I need somepony to make sure I don’t forget anything.”

Momentarily puzzled, Fluttershy asked, “You don’t have somepony doing that already?”

“I do!” Pinkie hopped forward, then backpedaled until she was at Fluttershy’s side again. “Twilight said yes right away, but it can’t hurt to have someone to check the checks!”

“Alright, I’ll try to help you with that.” Fluttershy nodded, smiling and trying to imagine what sort of whimsy her job would entail. “So who will we be working with besides Twilight? Rarity told me that you have her in charge of costumes?”

“Costumes and logistics! Though I guess you could say she’s mostly handling the costumes and Rover is handling the logistics and she’s reporting for both of those. Rarity is definitely doing the costumes though. Luna insisted on that, like I would even consider someone else!” Pinkie waved her hoof dismissively. “As if!”

Fluttershy nodded. “She’s very excited about the whole thing. I’m not sure she has ever done anything quite like this before.” She paused, then asked, “Is Applejack in charge of catering?”

“Applejack is like, the head baker. There’s lots and lots and lots of ponies on the catering team.” Pinkie looked up into painted clouds overhead. “The Cake family, Luna’s entire kitchen staff, some hot shots from Manehattan and Canterlot… but Applejack is the one in charge of catering.”

“I just said that,” Fluttershy murmured, dusting the tip of her wing along the Pinkie’s tummy.

Pinkie let out a squeal of a laugh, leaping a few paces ahead. “You did!”

“What about Rainbow Dash?” With a gentle flap, she landed gracefully beside Pinkie. “Is she helping with catering too?”

“Nuh-uh. She’s on entertainment.” Pinkie reared up, lifting her forelegs over her head and dancing around on her hind legs. “Crowd pleasie stuff! Zecora is, too, with her storytelling routine, and she added a whole bunch of stuff to it since last year!”

“Okay…” Fluttershy smiled as Pinkie dropped onto all fours and bowed. “But who’s in charge of that, though?”

“Trixie! I offered it to Dash, but she said it sounded like too much work. She’s just gonna be spooking ponies out with a thundercloud, so I thought she would be able to handle performance schedules.” Pinkie shrugged. “It’s kinda like planning weather except there’s gonna be an audience that actually wants to see it! Trixie is a total show-pony, though, so I know she won’t let us down.”

Fluttershy gave that some thought, then nodded. “Alright, who else?”

“Well, my friend Vinyl was butting heads with this cellist from Canterlot for lead on the music team, but Rarity said Sapphire Shores would be perfect, so that settled that. Vinyl said she was cool with it, as long as she didn’t get the position.” Pinkie snickered. “The cellist, not Sapphire.”

“Oh my.”

They stepped off the main road, following the winding path to the front door of their home. Fluttershy’s vision had fully returned, which meant that it was getting dark. Her ears stood up straight, pivoting slowly as she listened to the birds sing themselves to sleep. Further in the distance, she could hear much larger creatures emerging from the dens, beginning their nightly prowl. Somewhere deep inside was a desire to join with them, which meant that it was very nearly approaching time for her evening drink. She looked first to the bandaid on Pinkie’s neck, ran her tongue over her fangs, and then met Pinkie’s gaze.

“Yeah, I think Vinyl told me that they used to fool around a long, long time ago. Must still be a sore subject!” Pinkie chewed the corner of her mouth. “Please don’t tell her I told you that.”

Fluttershy giggled. “I won’t. Rarity made amends with Sapphire regarding our stay in her penthouse, then?”

Pinkie crossed the porch, pausing at the door. “I guess so! Still wish I could have gone with you girls.”

“I’d love to take a trip there with you sometime. We’ll have our own adventure, just the two of us.” Fluttershy returned Pinkie’s smile, kissing her on the back of the neck and following her inside. “But um… is that everyone?”

“We’ve got a security team since there’s going to be hard cider floating around, plus an after-party.” Fluttershy closed the door behind herself, watching as Pinkie slipped out of her saddlebags. “It’s mostly Luna and Celestia’s guards. Rarity made them special uniforms just for Nightmare Night and they look totally wicked cool!” Her eagerly shaking forehoof swung in a wide, pointing gesture. “Oh, and I put Drifting Cirrus in charge!”

“Who is that?” Fluttershy asked, cocking her head.

“Oh, shoot, I don’t think you’ve met him! He’s a friend of mine!” She rolled her forehoof. “The one I penpal with?”

It clicked a moment later, and Fluttershy nodded. “Ah! I remember now. Didn’t you say he was away on business?”

“Well, he was, but he’ll be back just in time to help out on Nightmare Night!”

“Wonderful. I’d love to finally meet him.” The pegasus waited until Pinkie had finished nodding, and then a few moments more just to be safe. “Is… is that everypony I should know about?”

“Yep! Wait…” Pinkie wiggled her nose and ears. “Yep!”

Fluttershy giggled. “Alright then. And what will Luna be doing?”

“This is her party, silly!” Pinkie took a few steps toward the stairwell, and Fluttershy followed. “She’s going to be having a good time. Making sure she’s enjoying herself is just as much our job as keeping all the other guests happy, and I’m super flattered that she’s giving me the honor of putting all this together!”

“I’m happy to see you taking all this responsibility in stride.” The steps creaked softly as they ascended. “Goodness knows I wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

Pinkie glanced back at her, eyes lidded. “I know something you can handle,” she almost whispered.

There was a question on the tip of Fluttershy’s tongue when Pinkie lifted her tail nice and high, her trot becoming more of a swaying canter. Fluttershy put a bit more haste in her step, shuddering and ruffling her feathers. Several bandaids hugged the contours of Pinkie’s backside and inner-thighs; reminders of mischief from nights past that had yet to fully heal. The tiny, pale scars left by Fluttershy’s fangs made her feel a pang of guilt. There were identical scars scattered across Pinkie’s neck as well. It was unavoidable, given the necessity of frequent feedings, but the sight of them still made Fluttershy feel a bit guilty. Knowing this, Pinkie had told her that they almost reminded her of spots on a fawn.

“I saw you giving me the thirsty look, butterflanks.” Pinkie let her tail drop, turning and giggling at the end of the hall. She raised her head, putting her neck on display. In a much haughtier voice, she murmured, “And where would you like to dine this fine evening, madame?”

Fluttershy swallowed, eyes wide as she drank her lover in. “Your um… your neck.” She could feel her cheeks burning brightly, her wings unfolding, but Pinkie just smiled and nodded.

“Excellent choice!” Pinkie abandoned the waitress act the moment they moved into the bedroom. She strutted up to the bed, putting one hoof on the mattress. “You want to do that pouncing thing?”

“I… tonight I kind of want to…” Fluttershy found herself staring at the floor. “If you’re alright with it, I mean… I’d like to take it slow.” She glanced up at Pinkie, wearing a sheepish smile. “Okay?”

“Not feeling too assertive?” Pinkie rolled onto the bed, sprawling out and propping her head up with a hoof. “That’s okay; we can go as slow as you want.” She giggled and winked. “I’m all yours.”

The air was full of Pinkie’s scent; from the cotton candy shampoo she used, to the bubble gum soap, to the distinctly feminine aroma of sweet sweat and excitement. Fluttershy’s wings fluttered impulsively, feathers fanned out as she took a few steps closer. She could see her shadow swaying on the moonlit floor and feel the embrace of night fueling her desires, but there was something in the way. Her eyes drifted closed as she tried to focus.

There was a part of her that wanted to call it off, until her thoughts had cleared, until her reflections on Mahara had faded from recent memory, but then she opened her eyes. Pinkie was gazing back at her, wearing a dreamy smile and idly stroking the side of her neck.

She believes in me, and she trusts me, and she loves me.

Pinkie tilted her head, still smiling. Fluttershy climbed up beside her, exchanging slow and delicate kisses.

Pinkamena Diane Pie, I am going to be the mare you think I am, and every single day we spend together I am going to do everything I can to make you happy. Maybe I don’t deserve you, but you deserve someone who can give you their all. Fluttershy exhaled slowly, feeling the tension roll off of her. And that’s what you’re going to get, from this moment on.

“I love you, Pinkie,” Fluttershy whispered, smiling.

She ran her tongue over the side of Pinkie’s neck, feeling her pulse just beneath the skin. A tremble ran through Pinkie as Fluttershy brought her fangs to the surface, and then, with just a bit of pressure, broke through. Pinkie cooed quietly, rubbing her nose against Fluttershy’s ear, as warm, fresh blood slowly trickled out of her neck and into Fluttershy’s belly.

“I love you too, Shy.”

\/ /\ /\ \/