Stallions on Strike
Part 5: Negotiations

Mrs. Cake and Pinkie Pie shared the same stallion. In Equestria it was the social norm to have one stallion per herd, and a herd could be anywhere between one and six mares. The alpha mare was married to the stallion, and the other mares in the herd were welcome in all the same respects as the wife was. Now, the Cake herd was small, but they loved one another very much. The two foals were certainly a product of this, and the successful Sugar Cube Corner was as well. Mr. Cake, Mrs. Cake, and Pinkie Pie were a team… but they sure didn’t feel that way anymore. The striking stallion herd had grown exponentially, and it had only been about ten days since their beginnings. Mr. Cake had been roaming the streets with them exclusively, and only came home to check on his foals. This left the two mares of the Cake herd very unhappy. So, they formulated a plan…

Mr. Cake came home at his usual time, long after dusk. When he approached Sugarcube Corner he noticed the door was still unlocked, even though the sign said closed. Going inside and locking it properly, he set his keys, saddlebags, and protest signs down. Peering around, he entered the kitchen and gave a little gasp. It was spotless. The skinny stallion looked under the table, across the counters, even under the fridge. Everything had been positively polished to a shine! He opened a cabinet, and found all the dishes put away just right. He looked in the oven and found it had been scrubbed out by hoof. He opened a drawer here and there, finding everything in absolutely immaculate condition. “Hmm…” he said, a little suspicious.

Mr. Cake wandered out into the main area of Sugar Cube Corner, seeing all the displays and such had been cleaned out as well. The floor was swept. The windows washed. Everything was spic and span. Turning for the stairs, he heard frenzied whispers. “He’s coming!” it sounded like Pinkie Pie, and there were not-so-stealthy hoofsteps rushing around above him. Cocking his head with a slight smirk, the yellow stallion ascended. “Go, quick!” said Pinkie. There was a quick sound of a door being closed, though gently.

He found the door to the twins’ room open, and went to check on them. Both were asleep in their cribs, quite clean and well-tended to. His brow rose. Color him impressed! Who would’ve thought the mares of the household could actually take good care of the foals? Leaning, he tenderly kissed their brows, watching them sleep for a time. He found himself quietly smiling.

Turning and carefully shutting their bedroom door, he went down the hall to the bedroom. “I’m home.” He said softly, poking his head in.

“Welcome home, dear.” said both Mrs. Cake and Pinkie Pie. Both of them were sitting, attentive, on the bed. The way their heads were tilted, the way they were looking at him… oh dear. One was on the left, one on the right, and plenty of room in the middle. The implication was sexy. The two mares never…. Well… ‘teamed up,’ when it came to bedroom affairs, but the invitation was clear. Pinkie’s mane was brushed to one side, and Mrs. Cake smelled of French vanilla, her favorite perfume her husband had given to her for her birthday. Both looked like they’d groomed for hours.

Mr. Cake stopped in the doorway, his mouth a little agape at their ‘come hither’ looks. “Er.” He said, swallowing for a moment.
“Welcome home, Carrot!” Mrs. Cake said brightly.

“Come on to bed! You must be tired! If not, we can make you tired!” Pinkie bounced on the bed a bit, giggling. Mrs. Cake face-hoofed a little. Well, there went the mood, right there. Before anypony knew it the pink mare had bounced off the bed, gone behind Mr. Cake and was pushing him forward by his butt with the crown of her head. She pushed the door shut with one of her back hooves. The helpless stallion fell face-first into the bed and was gathered up by his wife for cuddling. He was splayed out on his back, and Pinkie quickly joined them. Mr. Cake was mooshed in a Pinkie and Mrs. Cake sandwich. They rubbed at his chest and belly, cooing happily.

“H-hey now! Easy!” he flailed for a moment, pushing off their grabby-hooves. “What’s the big idea?”

“You’ve been gone all week! So we cleaned up the place and waited for you.” Mrs. Cake nuzzled him, resting her chin on his chest. “We missed you, honey…” she said in a small voice, looking meaningfully into his eyes and stroking his cheek.

“Yeah! Besides we can’t have a herd with no stallion!” Pinkie said, bouncing a couple of times on the bed before settling on her belly next to them. She took his little hat and threw it, then set her chin atop his head between his ears. “We’re ready to negotiate, honest!”

“N… Negotiate?” mumbled Mr. Cake while he was loved on and kissed.

“You went on strike because you were unhappy, we’re ready to hear your demands.” Mrs. Cake said tenderly, reaching over and putting out the lamp so it was dark. It was quite private, all of a sudden, the three of them on the bed. Sheets were pulled back and the two mares curled up with him, pressed in tight for warmth. The stallion stuttered a bit, red-faced. “Talk to us, sweetheart. What is it you want?” she whispered.

With one mare under each arm, Mr. Cake considered. Pinkie tickled him a little with her nose, and he giggled. “St-stop that, haha! I need to think!” He squirmed around as the pink mare nosed him playfully. “Easy now!” Mrs. Cake hissed something at Pinkie, and finally it stopped. “Hrm…” he thought, finally laying his head on a pillow. Both mares waited patiently, listening to the sound of each other breathing.

“Maybe he wants more pay? I mean we usually split stuff three ways, but—!”

“Hush Pinkie.”

“Maybe he wants us to find a third mare? Our herd is kind’a small!”

“Pinkie, hush!”

“Ohmigosh what if he’s not getting enough—!”

“Don’t you DARE finish that sentence!”

“Girls.” Mr. Cake said gently, shushing them both. “I want… I just want…” he paused, heaving a deep sigh and turning a bit. “I just want a little more respect, is all.” He said gently. Both mares fell silent. He pulled them tight to either side of himself. “I want to be up there cooking with you, is all. I want to make cakes and tarts and things. It’s my special talent, after all.”

“But you do, honey…”

“No, no I don’t.” Mr. Cake said firmly. “I’m always cleaning, or moving supplies, or tending to the foals. I don’t ever get any time to actually make something to sell up front in the store. I don’t even get a please or thank you for my efforts.” He nodded towards the front room, down the stairs. “I think somewhere along the line I got shunted into just doing the chores, and you two just went straight to baking sweets.” There was a long silence. He let it all sink in.

“You wanna split up the chores, then?” Pinkie asked softly, perking her ears. “We can do that easy, silly! You didn’t hafta go on strike for that!” she giggled, rubbing his belly with both her front hooves.

“I think I did, and I still am.” Mr. Cake said, still staring at the ceiling.

“What?” Mrs. Cake said, sounding startled. “But we’re listening now! If we help out with the chores and the foals, shouldn’t that mean you don’t have to be on strike anymore?” she stroked his chest with a tender hoof while Pinkie fixed him with soft eyes.

“It’s not just about me and Big Mac anymore.” Mr. Cake said, shutting his eyes. “It’s about everypony. The way things are out there? It’s gotta change or there’s gonna be a lot more herds just like ours.”

“What’s wrong with our herd?” Mrs. Cake asked in a small voice.

“It got lopsided enough in its responsibilities that your stallion went out into the street to wave angry signs at you?” There were a fewwww drops of smart-alek in Mr. Cake’s tone when he said that. Mrs. Cake blushed, wilting her ears. Pinkie Pie giggled, nodding a bit. “I don’t want other ponies to suffer like we did.”

“Did? Then… you forgive us?” said Pinkie, pushing her now curtain-like mane out of her face. “You’re not mad anymore?” She gave him big soft eyes to punctuate.

“Oh I’m still mad.” Mr. Cake said indignantly. Both mares whimpered a little, but he pulled them closer. “But things are gonna get better.”

“We could make a big calendar for the fridge!” Pinkie said, bouncing a bit. “You know, to mark who does what chores on what day! That way it’s all straight!”

“Good idea, Pinkie.” Mrs. Cake nodded her approval. A great weight seemed to lift from the Cake herd’s shoulders. They looked at each other in the darkness. It was cloudy outside, so not even the moon peeked in at them. “Hmm… when was the last time all three of us were in the same bed?” she winked at Pinkie, whose face lit up with glee.

“Ohhhh-no. Couch. Both of you.” Mr. Cake gave them both a rather strong shove. Both mares yelped, tumbling comically out of bed. “There’ll be none of that until this is all sorted out.” He pulled the sheets around himself as both mares moaned loudly. They’d had this all planned out! Scrub the place down, put the foals to bed, negotiate, then seal the deal with a night of bedroom romping! But, not tonight it seemed. “Go on now. You’re still in trouble.” He said, tossing both of them a pillow.

“Banished to the couch.” Pinkie wilted, heading to the living room with her head hung. (It didn’t occur to the pink mare that she had her own room and could just as easily go up to her own bed.) Mrs. Cake followed, looking a little crestfallen as well. Denied. Both of them, denied.

“Carrot…” whispered Mrs. Cake, stopping in the doorway. He turned over to look at her. “I love you, sweetie.” She said softly, coming back and kissing his cheek. He smiled at her tiredly. “We’ll make this all better, I promise. Starting tomorrow.” She took her pillow and reported to the couch as her husband had commanded. He smiled, letting his eyes slide closed. He’d never felt so relieved.

=-----=-----=-----=-----=

Twilight was flung out roughly out of the Ponyville jailhouse and she landed face-first with her butt in the air. “Oomph!” she grunted, falling over before righting herself.

“Now go on home! And don’t let us catch you putting your hooves on a stallion like that ever again! Or you’ll regret it!” Snapped the guard in the doorway before slamming it shut.

Twilight flinched at the sound. She stood there for a moment, then hung her head. A week in jail. She was so ashamed of herself. How could she ever look any stallion in the face again? How had she just lost control like that? “I’d better get home, Spike might be there.” She mumbled, turning towards Golden Oaks. “If this protest thing is still going on… well, they have to rest sometime…” Darting down the street, she made for home. The purple mare was relieved when she saw the place had not burned down, nor been converted into a fortress full of angry sign-waving stallions. The lights were on, the door was closed, and the hearth was lit. Cocking her head and taking a deep breath, she went in. “Spike? Spike I’m home!” she said, setting down her saddlebags. “Spike are you here?”

“Nope, I left the fire going and all the lights on, and I went for a stroll.” said Spike from the top of the stairs where he sat. The purple mare looked up at him with soft eyes, unsure of what to say to him now that she’d finally found him again. He rose, coming down the stairs and stopping in front of her. There was a long silence.

Twilight slowly sank down to her belly, all four legs folding up. They shared a quiet embrace. “H’oh Spike, I’m so sorry! So sorry!” she whispered in distress, pressing him hard against her in a fretful embrace. “I-It must’ve been so scary for you! And I need to go apologize to Snowflake! I’ve been gone for a week anything could’ve happened to you!”

Spike hugged his mistress with a heartsick sort of sigh. It had never really struck him when she’d been dragged away to jail, but later it had. He’d missed her, despite all his anger he’d missed her a lot. “Twilight, I uhm…” he said awkwardly, unsure what to say. When she finally released him, they looked at each other. What were they supposed to do now? A sort of void was there now. A wound had been ripped open that had been festering for quite some time, it wasn’t something you just glossed over. Twilight hung her head, wishing she could remember all the speeches and things she’d been thinking up all week in her jail cell. Her heart stung when she thought about it. She’d even sent a confession letter to the Princess to tell her about what had happened. The return letter, while politely-worded, had been positively scathing. Her mentor was disappointed that Twilight would strike the fairer sex with her magic, and would be awaiting a nice long essay about the incident and how it could have been handled much better.

“Spike,” Twilight leaned, just wanting to hug him for now. So many mean words had passed between them, but a great deal of pressure had been let off and now they could at least talk a little, right? They sat in front of the hearth. “We can… we can go talk to Cheerilee tomorrow, if you want.” She said softly into the top of his head. Spike shifted a little, looking up at her with hope in his eyes. “Maybe you can enroll for elementary school this fall, if it’s not too late?” the purple mare said, offering an olive branch between them. Spike threw his arms around her neck happily.

“Er, Twilight?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s somethin’ a gotta tell you before anything else happens.”

“What’s that?” Twilight tilted her head back when she heard the upstairs toilet flush. “Do you have a guest? Who is it?” she went to the bottom of the stairs, curious. “Hello?” she called up.

“Nyargh worg, rawrgh narg.” Sombra emerged from the bedroom, commenting on the lovely wallpaper in the bathroom. It really was pleasant, for when a stallion had business in there to take care of. “Rawrghri Rargle?!” he spotted her when she spotted him.

“King Sombra?!” Twilight gasped, igniting her horn defensively.

“Yargh?” he said, frowning at her rather angrily. Sombra looked over at Spike. “Worgh rawrgh snargle yargh?” he pointed at Twilight with a hoof. “Woof nargh worg rawrgle!” he jabbed the hoof at her twice. Twilight was not amused at his insults, her horn flaring brighter to begin the epic battle of good and evil—this time in her own great room!

“Stop!” Spike jumped between the two of them. “Twilight you can’t! You just got outta jail for attacking somepony!” he waved his little arms back and forth as Twilight tried to lean around him. The baby dragon hopped up a few stairs, shielding the black stallion from the unicorn’s wrath.

“He’s evil!” Twilight insisted. “Snowflake was a mistake, but HE needs to be stopped!”

“He’s not evil anymore! I promise!” Spike said, looking back and forth between the two of them.

“Nyargh worg rawrgle?” Sombra lifted an amused brow, wondering exactly what Twilight had done to land herself in prison. “Nyah-hah-hah-hah!” he threw his head back in laughter, then teleported down to be right in front of her instead. She jittered back, horn flaring with magic. He gave his cape a gallant little toss, sniffing with dignity as he tilted his muzzle up. He looked rather… noble, like that, for he seated himself to explain. A long line of snorts, rawrgles, and snarrrrgs told Twilight the rather complex and enlightening tale of what had happened after the crystal heart had ripped his smoky form to pieces.

“Really?” Twilight said, the magic draining out of her horn. The glow subsided, and Spike heaved a sigh of relief. Sombra nodded, and went on for a bit longer. “Just like Nightmare Moon, huh?” the purple mare was spell-bound. “I had no idea.”

“Rarrorgh-argh rawrgh.” Sombra leaned and, just like any proper nobility could, took her hoof and kissed it. If not for Twilight, Spike and her friends he would have been trapped in darkness forever. He was very grateful, to say the least.Twilight blushed as he released her. She was more than a little taken aback at all this. “Snarfle-grawrgh spargh crystalllllz.” He gestured to Spike.

“For Hearth’s Warming, huh?” Twilight found herself smiling just a little. “That was very nice of him. And you’ve been pen pals since then?” He nodded. “Wow.” There was a bit of silence, and Sombra cleared his throat a little awkwardly. “So uhm… what’re you doing here, exactly?” she asked.

“He’s gonna be the spokespony for the stallions on strike!” Spike said enthusiastically.

“…What.”

“Annnnnd he’s staying here with us. Sorry Twilight, I didn’t know when you’d get out of jail so I offered him the guest bed.” Spike smiled a little sheepishly.

“What?”

“Annnnnd we’re gathering twenty-five thousand stallions to sign a petition to the crown soon. So Ponyville is about to get really busy.” Spike chuckled nervously.

“WHAT?!”

End of Part 5