An Invasion of Another Sort

Chapters

They're in Our Flower Shops!
They're Drinking in Our Bars!
They're Playing in Our Parks!
And We Couldn't be Happier to Have Them
They Came from the Futon!

They're in Our Flower Shops!

It had been a rough couple of days for Rachel. Trying, confusing, tough days that had tested her mettle to its very core. Getting kicked out of your house by a magical talking horse who stole your boyfriend right out from under your nose tended to leave people a little worse for wear. Most people would have broken down if such a thing would have happened to them, given in to despair and hopelessness, but she wasn’t most people.

The moment that she had left her old apartment building, she had made a promise to herself. She wasn’t going to let what happened break her. She wasn’t going to let it dishearten or disconcert her. She was going to forget James and move on. She was going to rise above the madness.

The day after James had broken up with her, she worked quickly. Making a few phone calls, she had gotten one of her friends to let her stay at her place. Yes, her commute to work was a little longer, yes the room that she was sleeping in was a little smaller than she was used to, and yes she was still a little upset about what had happened, but she was going to move on to bigger and better places. She still had to get the rest of her things from James, but after that she’d be completely free of him, and after that the world was her oyster.

A meaner part of her wanted to start hitting on James’s friends, maybe go on a date with one or two of them just to try and rile him up, but in the end she decided against it. She had told herself that she wouldn’t bother with him anymore and she meant it. If he cared so little for her that he’d dump her for some animal that he had met only a few hours prior, he wasn’t worth the effort. And besides, most of his friends were just as big of weirdos as he was.

She had already dropped hints to every single, eligible guy that she knew that she was single and ready to mingle. It would only be a matter of time until the boys were pounding at her door. She’d have another boyfriend before James had the chance to realize the mistake he made and come crawling back to her. She’d show him. She’d show him, rub it in his face, and walk away laughing.

One of the men that she had in mind was a guy that she had known in high school and was still friends with to this day. He might have been a little odd in his own way, but she didn’t know a guy that was harder-working or as on the straight and narrow as he was. Not to mention that he was one heck of a looker, with a big, strong frame, pretty, almost haunting icy blue eyes, and a face that screamed rugged.

While trying to get such a guy might have seemed a daunting task for most women, Rachel was almost positive that she’d have him with little effort. All she’d need to do was put on something nice, walk down to his shop, and ask if he wanted to maybe get a cup of coffee and she’d be completely over James by the end of the week.

It'd be easy. All he'd have to do was say—

“No? What do you mean no?”

“I’m actually going out with someone later today,” Andrew told her as he carefully preened a rose bush.

“Going out with someone?” Rachel parroted. “You?”

Andrew grinned. “I know right?” he joked. “I’m a bit surprise myself.”

Rachel stared up at the young man as he tended to the bush in disbelief. Andrew wasn’t the type of person that went out on dates.Most times his guy friends had a heck of a time in getting him to leave his house! He was a pretty reserved guy, especially around women, usually preferring to stay in his little flower shop rather than go out.

Though she was more than a little disappointed, Rachel found herself smiling slightly, happy that he had finally found someone. “Well, I hope you enjoy yourself,” she said, almost able to keep the grumble out of her voice.

Andrew looked away from his roses to flash her a bright, cheery smile. “I hope so too. And hey, don’t let me saying no bring you down. I’m sure that you’ll find someone twice as good as me within the week.”

Rachel found herself nodding again. She was sure that he was right. Though he might have been her first choice there were still a ton of guys that she could look at. This really was no real loss. But a small part of her wanted to know who had snatched him up before her. Though he had never said it, Andrew did have a crush on her. He had had one for years. For him to turn down her offer he must have met one heck of a woman.

“Do you mind if I ask who’s the lucky lady?” she asked, shifting her weight from the balls of her feet to her heels. "Is it anyone I know or did you meet someone out of town?"

Andrew’s eyes drifted over her shoulder and settled onto something. “I’ll do you one better,” he said as his face lit up and his smile widened. “She’s coming over right now so I’ll let you meet her. Hey Junebug. How’s it going?”

Rachel’s brow furrowed. Before she could look over her shoulder to see who Andrew was talking to she felt something brush across her leg. Though she was wearing pants she could feel the thick, soft, plush fur of whatever it was. Her first thought was that it was a dog. A very big, very furry dog; no doubt the pet of the girl that Andrew was about to introduce her to.

“Oh I’m sorry, excuse me,” a feminine voice, warm and airy with a spoonful of country twang in it, apologized.

“It’s alright,” Rachel said automatically, side-stepping out of the way while also looking down so she could see what kind of breed of dog it was. “It’s my fault for standing—” She stiffened as a pony smiled up at her apologetically. “—In the middle of the…”

This one wasn’t like the pony that she had seen a few days ago. This pony was smaller for one, with the top of its head maybe reaching to the center of her stomach. It had neither wings or a horn and its mane and tail weren’t moving as if floating in a gentle breeze. Its fur was this pale olive color and its mane was the color of an orange creamsicle. A pair of lime green eyes, just as big and as expressive as the other pony’s eyes had been, stared up at her with a bright and friendly smile. Rachel could only stare back, one of her eyes twitching and a sinking feeling coming to her stomach.

“No, no, I should have been watching where I was going,” the pony said with a flick of her head, causing her curly mane to bounce. “I’m the one that should be apologizing, not you.”

Andrew, with a chuckle, kneeled down and spread his arms out wide. The movement caught the mare’s eye, causing her to look over at him. She grinned as their eyes met, her tail flicking.

“Again, I’m sorry about bumping into you,” the pony said before making her way toward the young man without another word.

Rachel could see that the mare was struggling to contain herself. She could see that the muscles in her withers and rump were tensed. One could also see the desire on her face; they could see it in the way that she moved and the want in her eyes. The pony wanted to charge toward Andrew, she wanted close what little distance there was between the two as quickly as possible.

With each step the pony began to move faster and faster, a casual walk turning into a power walk which turned into a light jog, all in the span of a few feet. Finally, as she got within arm’s length of him, the pony lost all restraint. Crouching low to the ground, she leapt into the air and into a laughing Andrew’s arms.

Hooves intertwined with arms as their bodies came together. The pony buried her muzzle into Andrew’s neck. Andrew, meanwhile, pulled the mare closer against him, pressing his cheek against hers.

“I missed you,” Rachel could hear the pony mutter into Andrew’s neck, her mane bobbing with each breath.

“You saw me yesterday, silly,” he said as he rubbed his cheek against the pony’s.

“I know. But I still missed you,” the mare muttered stubbornly.

The young man smiled as the pony relaxed against him. There was a twinkle in his eyes as he held the mare close, his fingers lightly toying with her back. Just like with his plants Andrew’s touch was gentle, loving. His fingers traced the pony’s spine, parting and moving the fur, before he dug his fingers into the muscles underneath her shoulder blades and began to knead. The mare’s tail flicked as she let out a happy mewl, nuzzling herself closer against him.

Rachel had never seen that twinkle in Andrew’s eyes before, nor had she ever seen him smile like that. It was a happy twinkle, but it wasn't just that. She could also see contentment in that gaze, joy, excitement, jubilation. If there was a happy emotion she could see it in those pretty eyes of his. He was really, truly, fully happy, and he didn’t care who saw it. In fact, he wanted the whole world to see it.

And she couldn’t understand it. She couldn’t understand it at all. In fact, seeing this, seeing him holding this... thing like he was with that look in his eyes made her upset. Very upset.

“I… um… what?” Rachel took a few nervous steps backward in retreat. “Andrew…? Who’s this… pony?” she asked, looking around.

She couldn’t see anyone hiding in the flower shop. As far as she could tell the pony holding Andrew was as real as could be.

Shock, anger, and indignation filled the woman as she stared at the two. This wasn’t right. James might have been weird/stupid enough to try and go out with a talking horse but Andrew wasn’t! He was smart! He had common sense! He thought things through!

Chest heaving, she took a few more steps away from the two. These ponies must be doing something. That was it! There was no other explanation. They were doing something that was controlling men. Some kind of mind control, pheromones, something.

Andrew’s eyes flicked up at her as she placed a hand on her chest, horror as clear as day on her features. “Rachel, this is Junebug. The one that I was telling you about.”

Rachel opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water. She didn’t know what to say. How could she say anything?

“O-Oh…” she finally muttered, looking everywhere but at the two.

“Junebug, this is Rachel,” Andrew said, looking down at the little pony in his arms. “She’s an old friend from high school.”

When Rachel finally found the courage to look at the two, she found Junebug staring up at her with those olive green eyes of hers. They were pretty eyes, she noticed, innocent and honest and without a hint of a malice. The sinking, sickening feeling in her stomach grew and grew the longer that she stared into them.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Rachel,” the pony chirped, still as polite as ever.

Rachel did her best to smile, though she felt that she wasn't doing a very good job of it. “It’s… nice to meet you too, Junebug,” she said as she fussed with the bottom of her shirt.

Junebug’s head cocked to the side. In an instant those big, pretty eyes of hers were filled with concern. “Are you alright, Rachel?” she asked with a flick of her tail. “You seem a little…”

Andrew’s blue eyes traveled up and down the squirming woman in front of him, finally noticing her distress. “She might feel a little awkward since she just asked me out for coffee and I had to tell her no because the two of us have that thing that we’re going to tonight,” he guessed with a bit of confused hesitation.

Junebug’s eyes lit up in realization. “Oh… yeah, and with me…”

“No, no. It’s not that,” Rachel spoke up, desperately trying to keep herself composed. “It’s just... that I’m a little… confused?”

Both Junebug and Andrew looked at each other. The two of them clearly looked baffled by her statement.

“Confused? What’s there to be confused about?” Andrew questioned.

Rachel bit her lip. “Well, it’s just that he’s… and you are…”

“I’m what?” Junebug asked, the picture of adorable innocence.

Rachel bit her lip even harder and tugged at the bottom of her shirt so hard that she was surprised it didn’t rip. “Well… you’re a… pony and he’s… a person…”

Once again realization flashed across Junebug’s face. “Oh! Anny told me that some pon—er, people might find us a little… odd. As a couple I mean”

“I don’t think you’re odd,” Rachel quickly insisted. “It’s just… people really don’t date… poni—” she groaned in frustration, no longer able to keep herself composed. “What the heck is another talking horse even doing here?!”

Though she looked a tad insulted, Junebug did not comment on the remark. Andrew, on the other hand, did not have the restraint that the little mare had.

“What the hell’s your problem, Rachel?” he demanded, frowning.

“What’s my problem?” the young woman growled. “My problem is that you’re looking at me like I’m weird when you’re the one hugging some big-eyed alien that came from lord knows where!”

Huffing, she threw up her arms. “Instead of doing what any normal person would do and call the cops when you saw this thing you decided to—”

“Junebug is not a thing, Rach!” Andrew growled. “ Look, I know that you’re a little broken up about what happened with James or whatever, but that doesn’t give you the right to come in here and start being a bitch to people that you don’t know.”

Rachel flicked as if struck. “Bitch?! I’d rather be a bitch than some weirdo that thinks it’s alright to date some smelly animal!” she screeched.

Junebug’s smile turned sickeningly sweet. “Which is why he’s going on a date tonight with me and not you, sweetheart.”

As Rachel sputtered, Junebug turned around wrapped her hooves around Andrew’s neck. “Are all human mares like this one, hon?” she murmured, nosing his cheek. “If my mom saw me talking to a stallion like that she’d beat the horse apples out of me...”

Andrew smiled at her, some of the tension leaving his body as he wrapped his arms around her barrel and buried his nose into her mane. “I’m sorry about this, June,” he muttered. “Rach usually isn’t like this.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Anny,” Junebug said reassured as she rubbed his back. “She’s just jealous that I was lucky enough to swoop in and snatch you up before she could.”

“You didn’t swoop in you filthy pack animal!” Rachel snapped, jabbing a finger her. “You had to have done something to him. There’s no way in hell that he’d—”

Gently loosening Junebug’s hold on his neck, Andrew abruptly stood up and stared at her. Gone was the warmth and happiness in those haunting blue eyes. There was only anger.

“About a week ago Junebug came into the store lost,” he, obviously trying to keep the anger out of his voice. “I brought her into the back and offered her something to drink since she looked thirsty and the two of us started talking.”

He took a step toward her, and she found herself taking a step back. Andrew was usually a very laidback and carefree guy, but with each step Rachel could see his anger grow and grow.

“I found out that Junebug here tends to flowers too,” He continued as he slowly drove her back. “So we started talking about how we tended to our flowers, what we grew, stuff like that. After that the two of us decided to talk about ourselves.”

“Andrew, if you’d just—”

“We talked so much, in fact, that before I knew it the sun had set and I needed to close the store.”

Andrew stopped just as Rachel’s back hit the door, his eyes narrowing. “When she asked me if I wanted to go out I said yes because I wanted to, Rachel, because Junebug is one hell of a girl—”

“She’s a horse, Andrew!” Rachel cried, stomping her foot. "A. Horse!"

Andrew look her up and down, his anger turning into disappointment. “Unlike you I don’t judge people by how they look. Horse or not she’s a wonderful, hardworking girl that I’m very lucky to have met.” Not giving her a chance to respond, he jabbed a thumb toward the door. “Now get out of my store. If you’re going to act like this then I don’t want you in here.”

“I, you can’t, I didn’t,” Rachel shimmered as Andrew turned away from her. “Andrew, I wasn’t—”

Junebug, who was no longer smiling, took a step toward her. “If I was you I’d listen to him, filly,” she said, chillingly calm. "Before you end up getting yourself booped.”

Rachel looked at Andrew, then at the small, colorful horse. Her eye twitched and she stomped her foot again. “You know what? fine! If you want to let this animal control you then I'll leave you to it!”

Throwing open the door, she marched through it with a huff. Spinning around and giving the two a glare, she then slammed it as hard as she could. “I hope that she probes you, you freakin’ jerk,” she muttered. “Probes you and feeds you to her weird alien babies…”

Peering through the window, she saw that the pony was making her way over to Andrew. She could hear the two of them talking, though the glass muffled their voices just enough she that she couldn’t clearly hear what was being said. The tones were gentle, she could hear them clearly enough to hear that. Gentle, low, caring, and even though it sounded like gibberish to her ears, Rachel’s chest tightened as she heard it.

Junebug, pushing herself onto her back legs, awkwardly stumbled over to Andrew and wrapped her hooves around his middle. She was a good deal taller now than when she was on all fours, but even so she was still a head shorter than him. That meant that, as he wrapped his arms around her, Andrew could place his chin on the top of her head as the two of them hugged.

They were whispering to each other as they embraced each other. Junebug was looking up at him with a smile, her eyes filled up with affection and… something else.

It was this something else that made Rachel’s heart seize up. She took a few steps backward, biting her lip hard as the voice in her head told her things that she didn’t want to hear.

They're Drinking in Our Bars!

The rest of the week and the week after that seemed to bring more and more headaches for Rachel. People everywhere, from every corner of the world, were talking about these strange, adorable creatures, these ponies, who just seemed to pop up unexpectedly and for no reason. They came in the hundreds, then in the thousands, until they were in every country and nearly every city, with more appearing by the day.

While many of the ponies seemed delighted to be visiting this brand new world and were as friendly as they could be to whoever they met, some of the population began to grow fearful. Many people panicked, as people were known to do when faced with new and unexpected things, and these ponies were nothing if not new and unexpected.

The doomsayers cried that it was the end of the world, and scientists insisted that these visitations were the result of a change in the planetary ecosystem. People cried of gods and aliens and invasions and conspiracies, of the end of all as we know it and the changing of the whole world. Riots had broken out and people hid in their homes.

All things considered, humanity took the fact that they now had aliens amongst them shockingly well.

From what Rachel had heard, the EU had been forced to call an emergency meeting for all of its members, along dozens of generals, scientists, economists, fortune tellers, and the odd holy man. Though what had been talked about and who exactly had talked at the meeting had been a closely guarded secret (as of now anyway), rumor has it that the leaders of the EU had undergone talks with the leaders of these ponies in some capacity.

This event signaled one of the most important events in human history. Humanity now knew that they weren’t alone. There were peoples with cultures and technologies from different worlds, or if you’d believe some, different universes, and they were here right where we could see them. Nothing, not Isaac Newton’s works in science, not Galileo Galilei’s study of the stars, nor any work by scientists, mathematician, or astronomer could overshadow the significance of this momentous occasion or the amount of change that it would bring. No matter what happened, mankind would never be the same again.

And she absolutely couldn’t stand it.

Until the day that she had found James sitting on their futon with that mare right next to him, Rachel had never seen a talking pony, never talked with one, in fact, until she had walked into her apartment that fateful day. She had never believed that such a creature existed or even could exist. But now she couldn’t walk down to the grocery store to buy milk without seeing one.

They came in all shapes, colors and sizes. Some of them had horns on their heads, some had wings, and some had nothing at all like a normal, earth-born pony. Though she had seen a male or two, most of the ponies that she met were female. These ponies, no matter if they had horns or wings or nothing at all, were friendly to a fault. They were so friendly and cheerful and even helpful at times, in fact, that some of the more fearful people were slowly starting to warm up to them. Very slowly, but it was a start.

Everywhere she went, she saw ponies talking with people, laughing with them. Once or twice she saw men walking side-by-side with mares, the same look in their eyes that she had seen back in the flower shop. Some people, like her, would eye these couples warily, with traces of disgust in their eyes, but oddly enough, no one went out of their way to say or do anything about them.

What had seemed like a bad dream, a trick of the brain, or an enigma was now, very clearly, a reality. What had happened to her wasn’t some one-in-a-million-once-in-a-lifetime occurrence. These little ponies were real, and for the foreseeable future at least, they were here to stay. This, coupled with the fact that she continued to hit and miss with every guy that she had an interest in, had left the young woman as frazzled as she’d ever been in her life.

She needed to calm down, get away from all of this chaos and disorder that she had found herself in. A breather was needed, a rest required. If not for the sake of herself, then for the sake of everyone around her. Which was why she found herself sitting in her favorite little out-of-the-way bar, The Barley Oat, sipping on a warm mug of cider with her best friend Chelsea.

Now Chelsea, as long as anyone could remember, had always been an energetic and lively girl. Unusually tall but pleasantly thin, the young woman always seemed to have a joke at the ready or an interesting story to tell. She was a laugher, a fighter, someone that could garner the attention of an entire room with little effort and make one's worries disappear in the blink of an eye. She was loud, unabashedly honest, and the best friend that a girl could ask for.

“So a princess huh? Hell, if a princess up and dropped in my lap like that I’d have dumped your butt too.”

That being said, she might have been a little too honest for most people's liking.

Rachel let out a quiet groan as Chelsea laughed, sipping on whatever vile concoction that she had ordered from the bartender. “Can we please not talk about that. Please?” she begged. “Can we just sit here and enjoy ourselves without talking about James or ponies or anything else?”

“A princess,” Chelsea continued as if she hadn’t heard her, running her free hand through her short, spiky blue and brown hair. “I don’t care what you say about Jamie, that SOB really knows how to pick ‘em!”

A small, resigned sigh escaped Rachel’s mouth as she took a small sip of her cider. Usually the drink would ease whatever tension that she had felt during the week, make her close her eyes and smile as the flavor of apples and cinnamon tickled her taste buds and warmed her whole body, but today that didn’t seem to be the case. Her body didn’t feel warm, she wasn’t smiling, and her stress didn’t melt even a little bit. All she could see when she closed her eyes was that smile on that princess's face as she held James close and the look in Andrew’s eyes as he told her to leave her shop.

She looked up from her mug, slumped in her chair and feeling lousy, to see a pony sitting at the other end of the bar. A frown came to her face as she saw this pony—an aquamarine-colored unicorn with golden eyes and a harp printed on the side of her hip. This pony was seated in between two of the bar’s regulars with a cup of something or another somehow held in between her hooves. Though she couldn’t hear what was being said, she could see that everyone around the mare was listening intently to what she was telling them. She seemed to enjoy the attention that she was receiving, her tail swishing back and forth on the stool as she sipped her drink.

“You know, if you stare at her any harder you’re gonna have to buy her a drink.”

Rachel’s gaze snapped away from the pony and over to Chelsea, who was grinning widely. She snorted, looking down at her mug. “Don’t you think it’s weird?”

Chelsea cocked an eyebrow. “What? Haven’t you bought a drink for someone bef—”

“Not the drink!” Rachel snapped, her eyes darting toward the unicorn before once again settling on her spiky-haired girlfriend. “There’s a unicorn sitting in this bar, drinking, and no one’s freaking out!”

Chelsea looked at the pony and the little crowd that had gathered around her. “What do you call the people standing around her looking at her like she’s some street magician?” she asked, leaning back against her chair. “They might not be screaming and shouting like you—”

“Did you know that I saw one of those things kissing some guy the other day?” Rachel growled, her grip on her mug tightening.

“I’ve heard that a lot of mares get kinda excitable around guys,” Chelsea said, eyeing her carefully. “It has something to do with there not being that many—”

“I could understand if something like that happened in a few years, but right after they just up and appear out of nowhere? Nuh-uh, something like that doesn’t happen. They’re doing something, Chelsea.”

Chelsea’s nose scrunched up. “They’re doing something? What the hell are you talking about, Rach?” she questioned.

Rachel looked back over at the pony, her eyes narrowing accusingly as she took another sip of her cider. “Just think about it. No one’s freaking out about having aliens walking around for Pete’s sake!”

“But what about that thing that happened in Thailand that was all over the new—”

“We’re walking around like everything’s alright, like having these things around is alright!” Rachel slapped a hand against the counter. “People shouldn’t just be letting them walk around like this! They could be dangerous!"

She frowned, glaring at the mare. "They could be here to blow up the planet or steal all of our water and air!" she growled a little too loudly, causing a few people to look in her direction."Why are we just letting them walk around? We should at least put them somewhere—a concentration camp or Area 51 or something like that.”

Chelsea tapped a finger against her cheek as Rachel’s eyes narrowed angrily. “Girl… do you remember that video that we had to watch in first grade? The one with the rhinos that said not to be racist?” she asked, clearly surprised at how her friend was acting.

“I’m not being racist, Chelsea,” Rachel insisted, giving her a dirty look. “Just think about it for a second! I wasted two years of my life with James and he dumps me for some pony—”

“A pony who also happened to be a princess,” Chelsea automatically corrected, which earned her another glare.

“I don’t care how dumb James was; people don’t just do that without a good reason. Never mind doing it for something that isn’t even human!” Rachel took another sip of her cider, her knuckles white as she clutched her mug. “And Andrew never acts like that around people! He wasn’t even half that mad when those guys on the football team filled his locker with whipped cream back in school!”

“Come on, Rach, they’re not that bad.”

“Not that bad?! Of course they’re bad!”

“Have you tried talking to one of them?”

“Why in the hell would I want to talk to one of those animals? Every single time I’ve talked to one they’ve –”

Realizing that the bar had gone eerily silent, Rachel paused mid rant and looked around. To her horror, she saw that nearly every single one of the bar’s patrons was looking at her. Many of their eyebrows were raised. One or two of them were shaking their heads disapprovingly; even the bartender, an old barrel-chested man with a thick handlebar mustache and not a single hair on his head, was staring at her with his arms crossed. She quickly sunk into her chair, her face turning red with embarrassment. The tension in the air instantly told her that they had been listening in and they had heard every single thing that she had said.

“…Sorry,” she muttered to no one in particular, tracing the lip of her mug with her pointer finger.

Slowly but surely, though it seemed like an eternity to Rachel, the people started to chat amongst themselves again, though she could still feel a glare or two from various people around the bar. Rachel squirmed in her chair, her mind racing. Had she been yelling? Why did she let herself get so worked up like that, especially out in a public place like this?

Her eyes slowly drifted up from her half empty mug. From across the bar, she could see that the pony was slumped in her chair. The mare’s ears were pinned against her head and she was looking down at her cup, which was now sitting on the table, with sagging withers. Gone was the excitement in her body language, gone was the sparkle in those big golden eyes.

Just like everyone else in the bar, the mare had heard what she had said, and as she looked at this sad, disheartened pony, Rachel couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret.

One of the bar's regulars, a young man with raven black hair and hazel eyes, had an arm wrapped around the mare. He was leaning toward the pony’s ear, no doubt whispering reassurances. With his other hand he was holding her hoof. The pony sniffled, refusing to look up from her mug as she grabbed his hand with both of her hooves and placed it against her chest. The young man smiled down at her before, as if sensing that they were being watched, he looked up. For a few moments, he and Rachel stared into each other’s eyes before Rachel forced herself to look down, too ashamed and embarrassed to keep his gaze.

Chelsea stared at her friend. Without saying a word, she leaned forward. “You know,” she began, resting her elbows on the table. “The other day a pegasus asked me if I wanted to go out with her.”

Rachel forced herself to look up once more. To her surprise, she noticed that Chelsea wasn’t staring at her with distaste or anger or disgust. Her gaze was calm, patient, with just a hint of pity. It was the look of a friend that cared, and though she wanted to look back down at her cider, she found that she couldn’t.

“She was a cute little thing, had this pretty golden mane and was this deep brown color; had this voice that sounded like melted caramel too, I swear to god. Anyway, here I thought she wanted to go out to a bar or maybe a club but get this.” With a ghost of a smile on her face, Chelsea leaned forward just a bit more. “Instead of doing any of that she took me to the park for a picnic; with a little blanket, a basket, and some sandwiches that she swore to me she made herself.”

Chelsea tapped a finger against the table. “There I was all dressed up, looking good in that little black dress that you helped me pick out a couple months ago, sitting in the middle of the park eating a couple of cucumber sandwiches and drinking fruit punch!”

The mental image of seeing her friend, all dressed up and no doubt wearing those ten-inch high heels that she liked to wear when going out, sitting under some tree on a checkerboard blanket with a sandwich in her mouth brought a smile to Rachel’s face. “I bet you weren’t too happy about that,” she said.

Chelsea’s smile morphed into an all-out grin. “You’d think that, but I actually had a really great time.”

Rachel raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Really?”

“Yep. It was actually one of the better dates that I’ve been on,” Chelsea admitted with a shrug, before resting her head in her hands and sighing dreamingly. “She and I are probably going to go out this weekend again. She said that she wante—”

“What did you do?” Rachel interrupted, leaning forward in interest.

Chelsea blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what did the two of you do on the picnic that made it so great?” Rachel demanded. “Did you go out and do something after or…”

Chelsea shook her head. “Nope. We just sat there and talked and ate.”

“Well, what did you talk about?”

“A lot of things. She was asking me about myself and “hyoo-man” land as she called it, and I was asking her about herself and where she came from. Mostly stuff like that.”

“And that was fun?” Rachel questioned, genuinely curious. “You had fun doing that? You?”

Now laughing, Chelsea reached for her cup and brought it to her lips. Taking a sip, she set it down and slid it away from her. “There’s something… different about these ponies Rach.”

“I know; I was—”

“Hey, hey, hey. Shut your mouth for a second and let me talk girl,” Chelsea cut her off sternly, raising a hand up and poking a finger at her. “You can talk about mind control and conspiracies and alien invasions all you want in a second.”

Rachel frowned at that, making a rude gesture with her hand, which made Chelsea giggle.

“Like I was saying; there’s something different about these ponies. Sure, they look different and some of them can fly and do crazy things with those horns of theirs, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” Standing up, Chelsea slid across the table until her face was uncomfortably close to Rachel’s. “There’s just this… something about them, you know? Something that makes you smile and makes you want to go over and talk with them and puts you at ease whenever you’re about them.”

“Mind control,” Rachel muttered, only to be lightly swatted on the shoulder.

“Look, I understand that you’re pissed off about what happened with James. I get it, and I would be mad too if something like that happened to me, but you can’t just call all of these little ponies’ monsters. Because they’re not monsters. They’re adorable little weirdos that just want to be your friend.”

Sitting back into her seat, Chelsea shrugged again as she reached for her mug once more. “I don’t know. Just think about it girl, that’s all I’m asking.”

Rachel didn’t say anything as she brought her mug to her lips and took another sip of her cider. Her gaze flicked back over to the unicorn at the other end of the bar. Both she and the young man that had been comforting her were now pressed up against each other, she saw. The pony had her head resting on the man’s shoulder, her ears still pinned against her skull but with a small smile on her face. The mare was still holding the man’s hand against her chest, she realized, that sinking feeling once again welling up in her stomach.

But this wasn’t a feeling of outrage or disgust at what she was looking at. This feeling, this ache that made it almost hard to breath, was a feeling of want. The two of them, this pony and this man, two beings that looked so different from each other, embraced with all of the love and tenderness in their hearts. Neither cared what the other looked like. What mattered to the two of them was on the inside—the stuff that one couldn’t see. And, as she watched the two, her mind couldn’t help but drift to her ex-boyfriend.

James would have probably done something cheesy and stupid like take her to the picnic on their first date if he could. She would have said no of course. You needed to impress a girl on the first date. You needed to take her out and show her that you’d be able to take care of her and take her places. A first date wasn’t so much about the person that you were going out with so much as what that person was bringing to the table. That was why he had taken her out to that expensive French restaurant that she had wanted to go to.

Did they talk during that date? She couldn’t help but wonder as she took another sip of her drink. Not the shallow kind of talking, like asking about each other's day and making comments about the weather, but that real, deep kind of talking that actually meant something. Had they done any of that? Had James even smiled once as they brought out that expensive, exotic food while those violins played in the background? Would the two of them have had a better time sitting on some ratty old blanket under a tree eating some sandwiches and drinking some crappy soda?

The man uttered something in the pony’s ear. A smile came to her lips and that spark came back into her eyes as she giggled. Leaning up, she nuzzled the man’s face before planting a kiss on his cheek. The man’s face instantly turned red, his eyes widening as he looked down at the smiling unicorn. All around the two people immediately began to playfully tease.

The man said something that Rachel couldn’t hear, and not a second later the mare said something else, which turned the young man an even deeper shade of red and made everyone around them howl with laughter. But, she noticed, the man didn’t move away from the mare. In fact, if she didn’t know any better, she could have sworn she saw him lean against the pony just a little bit more.

The unicorn, still laughing, leaned up and nuzzled his chin. For a moment, Rachel saw a flash in both of their eyes, something that made her grip her mug so tightly that she half expected it to shatter in her hands. The pony, sighing, pressed the man’s hand against her chest with a little more force. There was a lump in the young woman's throat as the man, as red-faced, embarrassed, and as happy as could be, gave one of the pony’s hooves a squeeze.

Rachel looked over her friend before looking down at her mug, her throat dry and her chest tight. On the other side of the bar the laughter continued to ring out.

They're Playing in Our Parks!

It was a nice day outside. The sun was shining, but it wasn’t so bright that it blinded you. There was a slight breeze, which carried the scent of wildflowers and fresh cut grass with it, in the air that kept the warm summer day from becoming stifling. Birds could be heard chirping in the background; that happy, carefree kind of chirping that birds only did on days like today.

Rachel’s steps were measured and careful as she made her way down the sidewalk. It was her day off today, and for reasons that she couldn’t yet discern, she had decided to take a walk in the park. A line of maple trees shielded her from the sun as she walked on the rocky road that served as the park’s main highway.

She found herself at ease with each step that she took. It was comforting to hear the birds chirping and feel the sun as it poked through the leaves to warm her body. Here in the park, there was only nature—simple, wild, healing.

She sighed in contentment, looking away from the road ahead and toward the expanse of grass to her left. Near the path, a group of ponies were sitting on a blanket, chatting. Out in that sea of grass, a pegasus was playing ultimate Frisbee with a group of college kids. An elderly couple were eyeing a snow white earth pony suspiciously as she poked at one of the trees and muttered to herself. A woman, near her age as best as she could tell, was sitting under a tree with her hands in her lap. Leaning against her, snoozing quietly, was a unicorn stallion.

Rachel stopped and took a deep breath, breathing in the fragrances that nature had provided. There were also people on the path. Some of them were dressed up in suits with briefcases in their hands, talking into their earpieces as they made their way to work. Others were jogging or biking, wearing their compression shirts and their running shoes. Again she could see ponies walking around, exercising, chatting, laughing. To her surprise, she even saw one or two of them trotting down the path wearing a shirt and tie.

“Excuse me! Coming through!”

She ducked as a pink pegasus with a neon blue mane flew overhead, who was followed closely by a heavily-sweating man on a bicycle.

“Come on Charles!” the stallion cheered. “Keep those legs pumping! We gotta get you ready for that summer body! Come on! Come on! Just remember how cute you’re going to look in that bathing suit we got for you!”

Realizing that she was taking up a lane on the path by just standing there, she once again began walking. For the next couple of minutes, the young woman simply took in the sights while she let her mind wander where it will.

A pearl of laughter rang out from behind a pair of trees. Not a second later, a little boy darted onto the path, his t-shirt dirty and wrinkled and one of his knees bleeding. Two other figures leapt out from around the trees and began to chase after the boy. They were a pair of fillies, one of them an earth pony, with a tannish coloration and a reddish, brownish mane and tail, and a grey unicorn with the prettiest blue eyes and a mane of gold. The children ran past her, all smiles, and disappeared behind a great big old pine tree. Despite herself, Rachel grinned.

Seeing an empty bench, painted black and gleaming in the warm afternoon sun, a little way up the path she quickened her pace. Making her way toward the bench, she quickly sat down, wiggling her toes to ease some of the discomfort that she had been feeling in them. She wasn’t used to walking for great periods of time and she must have been at it for two or three miles. She needed to take a load off and rest her feet before she made her way home.

Just as she made herself comfortable, a middle-aged man ran past, followed closely by a pair of giggling, hungry-eyed mares. She watched them run a little up the path before sighing once more and looking up at the trees above her head.

It had been another rough couple of nights for the young woman. No matter what she did or what she took, she just couldn’t sleep. She’d toss and turn all night, her mind ill at ease, wrestling with questions and their answers.

She had dated and lived with James for two years. The two of them had done everything from picking out an apartment to buying groceries to bickering about why one needed to put their drink on a coaster before they put it down on the living room table. And as far as she had been concerned, their relationship had been fine.

The three children ran past her again, this time with the little boy and the unicorn chasing the earth pony. All three of them were laughing.

Up in the tree a brown robin could be seen hopping between branches, it’s head darting back and forth as it flapped its wings and sang its song.

“Young filly, would it be alright if I took a seat?”

Pulling her gaze away from trees, Rachel looked down. There was a pegasus stallion standing not two feet away from her, but unlike most of the ponies that she had seen, this one looked older by a significant margin. Heavily wrinkled, with a long, greyish beard and an old, worn out straw hat sitting on his head, he stood on two sets of shaking legs. The stallion’s eyes were half-lidded and slightly cloudy, and his entire body was soaked with sweat.

Realizing that she had splayed out on the bench, and seeing how exhausted the old pony looked, Rachel sat up and scooted to one end of it. “Of course,” she said as politely as she could, patting the empty seat next to her.

With a grateful smile, the stallion slowly, carefully climbed onto the bench. “Thank you very much, young filly,” he said, leaning against the back of the bench with a quiet, slightly pained groan as he closed his eyes. “This old geezer needs to take a load off for a few minutes.”

Taking off his hat, he began to fan himself with it. “This heat isn’t good for an old stallion like me,” he continued, cracking open an eye to stare at her. “Celestia only knows how you hyoo-mans manage it with all those clothes.”

Rachel tensed slightly at the name Celestia but still managed to smile. “Oh, it’s not that bad,” she said. “You get used to it.”

The stallion huffed, fanning himself more rigorously. “I suppose I’ll have to take your word for it.”

With that, the conversation lulled into silence. Rachel, with her hands in her lap and her knees touching, eyed the old stallion warily as he closed his eyes and let his body go lax, panting like an old dog in the hot sun. She had never let herself willingly get this close to a pony before, and even though her talk with Chelsea a couple of nights ago had lessened her distrust of them somewhat, a little part of her still couldn’t help but think that he and his ilk might be up to something.

He could be trying to lure her into a false sense of security at this very moment. He could be trying to use whatever mysterious powers he had to control her mind. As far as she knew, he could be sucking the life force out of her as she sat there!

Nervously tapping a finger against her thigh, Rachel made to get up so that she could disappear as quietly as she could, but her efforts were thwarted when the stallion let out a snort. “Do you know that my mares wanted me to come all of the way here to see the sights?”

Fingers digging into her pants, Rachel forced herself to once again smile. “Oh?”

The stallion nodded, either completely oblivious to her nervous or just choosing to ignore it. “‘We better go before they decide to stop us from coming in willy-nilly,’ they said. ‘Don’t you want to say that you got to go to a hyoo-man city? And just think of all of the nick-knacks that we can get for the cottage,’ they told me.” He snorted, his nose scrunching up. “And do you know what I said? I told them that we don’t need any more nick-knacks for the darned cottage! We have enough nick-knacks to fill up two cottages. For Celestia’s sake, I’m up to my neck in things from the Gryphon Isles and Labyrinia and the Diamond Dog Republic!”

Though Rachel had absolutely no idea what the old stallion was talking about, she continued to nod and smile and pretend like one was listening, as one did when talking to the elderly. “Really?”

“Yes really!” The stallion announced with a huff, before easing into the bench a little more.

His other eye cracked open, and he looked up onto the grass, where the people and ponies were playing and talking and interacting. Sighing, he looked over to Rachel with a small smile.

“…Still, it is pretty nifty being in a new world and all,” he admitted, smiling as the playing children ran by.

“I suppose it would be.”

A mare and a young man ran by, both of them wearing running gear. Rachel had to look away from the old stallion for a moment to make sure that the mare had, in fact, been wearing a headband and bands on each of her legs.

The stallion caught her gawking and his smile widened. “You know, you hyoo-mans have been awfully nice to us pony-folk. Not all of you, of course. A time or two, me and my girls got some dirty looks and somepony tossed an empty bottle at us, but it hasn’t been that bad. It’s nowhere near as bad as when me and the girls—”

Rachel jumped slightly when she felt something touch her thigh. Looking down she saw that it was the stallion’s hoof. She immediately tensed, shutting her eyes tightly. This was it. She had let the pony get too close and now it was going to do whatever ponies were doing to everyone else. Seconds ticked by as the stallion continued to prattle on. Rachel waited for a change—a dizziness, a heat traveling up her leg, something—anything that would signal her end.

“—Now I might just be some old fuddy-duddy, but I don’t think I really care for all these newfangled contraptions that you hyoo-mans have here, but I’d bet my horseshoes that my daughter String Slip would love them. She’s always been the type that gets a kick out of new do-hickeys like some of the things that you got. Why, I can remember when she was just—”

Slowly, Rachel cracked open an eye. She took a few deep breaths, wiggling both her fingers and her toes. Looking back down at her lap she saw that the old stallion’s hoof was still on her leg. It felt a little warmer than she was expecting, and it felt a lot heavier and more solid for someone so small, but other than that, it may as well have been a hand.

She didn’t feel any different. As far as she could tell no dramatic change had overcome her. She still felt a little leery around this pony and she still wanted to scooch away from him since he had gotten a little too close for her liking. The pony, who was still talking about something or another, hadn’t done anything to her. She was still herself; she was still Rachel.

The woman let go of the breath that she didn’t know that she had been holding, leaning against the back of the bench with a relieved sigh.

“—So what do you think, hon?”

Rachel looked back over at the stallion. He was staring back at her with a pleasant smile on his face, his body language expectant. Her mind raced, trying to piece together what the hell he had been talking about. The longer that she was silent, mentally gripping at strings, the more that the stallion’s smile grew.

“Oh, my girls give me the exact same look when they aren’t paying attention to what I tell them,” he said with amusement, giving Rachel’s leg a pat. “It’s good to know that even though this is a different world the mares aren’t that much different from the ones back home…”

“I’m, um… I’m sorry,” Rachel quickly apologized, sitting up on the bench and turning a bit to properly look at the pony. “It’s just that I’ve had a lot on my mind and—”

“Ah, ah, ah, say no more. I know how busy you young-ins get,” the stallion said with a dismissive wave of the hoof. “I’m surprise that this old bat hasn’t put you to sleep with all of his chatter.”

Rachel sighed, looking away from the stallion. “It’s not…” she paused, sighing again, before looking back over at him. “Mr. ...”

“Please, just call me Four Score, dear.”

“Four Score… I know we just met and all, but... would it be alright if I got your opinion on something?”

The stallion raised an eyebrow slightly, pulling his hoof away from her leg. “Well, I’d be happy to give you my two bits if you need it.”

Rachel nodded, biting her lip. “Well… a few weeks ago everything in my life seemed to be going great. I had a good job, an alright apartment, a boyfriend, and a lot of good friends. But then I found one of you ponies in my living room. She called herself Princess Celestia and she was sitting on my couch with my boyfriend James.”

She shifted uncomfortably. “The two of them were just sitting there and then James started saying that he was dumping me for this… this pony who he had just met a few hours ago…”

She stopped, feeling that familiar anger welling up in her stomach. She fought to beat it down, taking a deep breath as she did so. “I started to get upset, and maybe I said a few things that I shouldn’t have, and in the end I was standing outside of my home with bags filled with my clothes.”

Four Score’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh my goodness,” he said, placing his hoof on her leg once more. “I could only imagine how that must have made you feel…”

Rachel nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Yeah… It didn’t feel very good,” she admitted, looking down at her hands. “It made me angry; angry and suspicious of you guys. I had thought that she had done something to him to make him want to leave me. Mind control or pheromones or she put something in him…”

“Oh, the princess would never do that, darling. Say what you will about her, she’d never hurt a stallion in anyway if she could help it,” Four Score instantly said, coming to his ruler’s defense. “Even though I’ve never met her personally, I’ve heard that she’s the nicest and most caring pony that you could ever meet.”

Another lump formed in Rachel’s throat, and this one was a lot harder to swallow. “I mean, I had been going out with him for two years! I know that that isn’t long enough to start thinking about marriage or kids or anything like that, but it’s long enough that he should have to think long and hard about leaving me right? Especially for a girl who he had just met a few hours ago and who was…”

Rachel bit her lip, not wanting to say more, not wanting to offend the old stallion. Four Score, however, was having none of it.

“Who was what, dear?” he asked gently.

When Rachel didn’t say anything he scooched over a little more, so that they were hip-to-hip, and gave her leg another pat. “Come on now, dear, there’s no need to be shy. This old stallion’s heard every insult and slur in the book. I doubt you could shock me or even make me mad if you tried.”

The young woman looked up from her hands and at the stallion. She looked for any trace of falsehood or mischief but found none. All she saw was the same genuine, tender concern that she had seen in the eyes of Junebug days prior.

“…Who was a… pony,” she finished, before quickly adding, “Not that there’s anything wrong with being a pony, you seem like a very nice one in fact, but… people don’t… well, we don’t usually up and start dating people outside our species…”

“Oh?” Four Score said calmly. “And it bothers you that one of your hyoo-man males might be romantically interested in a mare?”

Rachel’s eyes widened slightly. “I wasn’t saying that— I mean; I think it might be a little— I don’t—” she exhaled through her nose, her brow furrowing in frustration. “You know what? I do think it’s weird,” she admitted, looking out onto the grass. “It makes me uncomfortable seeing ponies and people hugging and kissing— I know that you guys aren’t animals, but every time that I look at one of you, I think I’m looking at some kind of colorful dog!”

She looked over at Four Score, expecting him to look offended, but the stallion looked completely calm, that small smile still on his face. He shuffled in his seat a bit, getting himself more comfortable, before motioning her to continue. And continued she did; happily in fact.

“I know that a weirdo or a pervert or two might have tried doing something with you ponies right out of the gate like this, but I see tons of people walking around with mares! I have friends that are talking to or going out with ponies right now—ponies that they only met a few days ago! I know that I might be a little bias because I lost my boyfriend to a pony, but even then it seems a little off, doesn’t it? I can’t be the only person to think that it’s weird, right?”

Rachel looked to Four Score for confirmation. The stallion was staring at her carefully now. She could see a calculating look in his eyes as he looked her up and down, not saying a word. Rachel squirmed under his gaze as the minutes dragged by, waiting for him to say something. Finally, just when she couldn’t take it anymore, he hummed, tapping a hoof against his chin in thought.

“…Well, my dear, I don’t really know how things work around here but us ponies have, for the most part, always been a real friendly, open, and loving race.” His tail flicked as he adjusted himself a bit more. “Sure, I’m guessing more than a few of these mares running around are just looking for something exotic that they can tell their friends about when they get home, but I think you’d be surprised just how many want to be with one of your stallions.”

“But wouldn’t they prefer to be with their own stallions?” Rachel questioned.

“There’s not that many stallions to go around I’m afraid,” he said, with a hint of sadness. “And finding a single colt that’s still on the market is near impossible for most fillies—that doesn’t change if you’re a princess or a bread baker—and the ones that are lucky enough to find a stallion usually have to work their horseshoes off to keep him. It makes for a lot of lonely mares.”

After a few moments, the sadness on his face was replaced with a smile. “But I hear that there’s quite a few lonely stallions running around here,” he said. “And I hear that a lot of other ponies heard the same thing. It gets a lot of the young-ins excited; makes them want to rush out here to see if they can find somepony for their own. I imagine that quite a few of them are getting a bit… aggressive in their wooing.”

“It shouldn’t matter if you’re lonely though,” Rachel argued. “Most of these guys running around with these mares should—”

Four Score patted her leg again. “My dear filly, have you ever felt lonely?”

Rachel frowned. “Of course I’ve—”

“Oh I don’t mean the kind of loneliness that you feel after not talking to your friends all day or moving into a new place. I’m talking about being lonely in the romantic sense.”

Rachel’s brow furrowed. For as long as she could remember, since middle school in fact, she had had a boyfriend in some form or another. Sure, she might not have called it that when she was younger, but she almost always had a guy that would carry her books around or someone to hold hands with or to talk to or hug or kiss whenever she was feeling lonely or upset or needy. There might have been short periods when she didn’t have anyone, but she was a pretty good looking woman with a good head on her shoulders. The second that she was single and wanted to find someone else, she usually could do it in a heartbeat.

“I’ve seen fillies that’ve gone their whole lives without touching a stallion,” Four Score said, taking her silence as permission to continue. “I’ve seen ‘em work their hooves to the nub trying and trying and trying to find somepony, and I’ve seen ‘em fail again and again and again.”

That look of sadness came back to the old stallion’s face as he looked away from her and toward the trees where those three children were running around playing.

“You can see a weight on those mares’ withers, hon. You can see it in the way that they walk and the look in their eyes. Like everypony else, they just want to find somepony to share their life with, to love and to be loved in return. They want somepony to wake up to in the morning. They don’t want a supermodel or a prince, they just want a good stallion to come home to, a stallion that they can kiss on the cheek and say I love you. Most never get to experience that where I come from.”

When Four Score looked back over at her she almost flinched at the intensity of his gaze. It was a fiery gaze, one filled with sadness and longing and hope and love. Rachel’s breathing hitched as she stared back at him, frozen in place as if some greater power was holding her there.

“It’s a shame, and every time I see it, it breaks my heart.” He looked straight ahead, freeing her from the spell. “You can almost see it eating at those mares, leaving a bigger and bigger hole until there’s nothing left but a husk. And it’s even more of a shame that I can see the same in some of the hyoo-man stallion’s that I’ve seen here.”

His gaze softened. “Ponies, and I’m guessing hyoo-mans too, want that hole that loneliness makes filled. It really shouldn’t matter who fills that hole, or what they look like, as long as you care about them, right hon?”

Rachel opened her mouth, but just as quickly closed it. “B-But James…” she whispered hesitantly after a moment.

The old stallion smiled, reaching over and grabbing her hand with a hoof. Rachel, with tears in the corners of her eyes, looked down at his hoof just as he gave her hand a squeeze.

“I don’t rightly know what happened between the two of you, dear, but maybe everything wasn’t going as well as you think.”

Rachel’s body twitched as if she had been struck by lightning, her mind racing. Had everything been going as well with James as she thought?

The two of them went to work, they came home, they sat on the couch. Every once and awhile she’d make him take her someplace—out to a movie or to dinner or to something that she wanted to go to—and they’d go to sleep to start it all again. But when was the last time the two of them had laughed together? When was the last time that she had let James take her someplace that he wanted to go?

Rachel looked away from the stallion, blinking away her tears, and looked out onto the sunny grass.

She had yelled at him a lot for collecting his cards and his stamps. They were stupidly expensive; they took up too much space. None of her other girl friends’ boyfriends had such a stupid hobby. Why didn’t he start golfing or lifting or something like that? That was normal, that was useful. But he would never listen. She could make him change his diet and the way that he dressed but she could never change that hobby of his.

She remembered trying to throw some of his cards out once when he wasn’t home. The neighbors had almost called the cops after the fit that he had thrown when he had found out. He had searched half of the garbage cans in the city looking for those cards, and after he somehow managed to find them and bring them home, he hadn’t spoke to her for days after. She had later found out that the cards that she had thrown away were the ones that his father had given him right before he had passed.

Back when it had happened, she had blown it off. He was overreacting. They were just stupid baseball cards. She even got upset at him for the fit that he had thrown because of what she did. But now, as she looked back at it, she couldn’t help but feel horrified with herself.

How could she have done something like that? Why had she thought that it was okay at the time?

If it would have been the other way around and James would have tried to throw something like her grandmother’s wedding ring out because he thought that it was stupid, she would have thrown him out of a window. She would have been so angry!

And James had been angry, she now realized, but he had been very good at keeping it contained. After he had found his cards, he became distant. He didn’t laugh as much as he had before, and whenever he smiled around her, it seemed force. Whatever talking they had done vanished, and they’d sleep on separate sides of the bed, as far away from each other as physically possible. For the longest time she hadn’t thought anything of it, barely noticed that James was growing more and more distant, but now…

Rachel sniffled as she quickly wiped her face of tears. Four Score, still holding her hand, unfurled one of his wings and wrapped it around her shoulder. Though it was nowhere near as big as Celestia’s had been, it was shockingly soft and oddly warm and comforting.

“Now, now, there’s no need for tears,” the stallion said, pulling her against him. “We all make mistakes in our lives, young missy. Trust this old geezer when he says that.” He unfurled his other wing, using it to wipe a stray tear that she had missed. “What you need to do is learn from those mistakes, become a better pony, or hyoo-man in this case.”

Sniffling, Rachel leaned into the stallion, who held her all the tighter.

“If I were you, I’d go and talk to your old stallion. The two of you might not be romantically acquainted anymore, and you might never be again, but at least the two of you could leave each other on better terms.” He gave her hand another squeeze. “And while you have every reason not to like us ponyfolk, I ask that you give us a chance. We might seem like a bunch of silly-fillies at times but most of us are good folk that know one very important thing.”

Cleaning her face up as best as she could, Rachel looked over at the stallion. “W-What thing?” she asked

The stallion grinned. “Friendship is magic.”

And We Couldn't be Happier to Have Them

Rachel walked down the sidewalk as one who had just had a great weight lifted off her shoulders. She stood up a little straighter, her gait was purposeful and confident. Her breathing was easier and lighter. The sun seemed a little brighter and the city air didn’t smell quite so bad. For the first time in weeks, Rachel couldn’t feel any of the anger or the negativity that had been plaguing her since the door to her old apartment had been slammed in her face.

She had spent nearly three hours with that old stallion, with her head on his wither and his wing wrapped around her in an almost protective manner. While it had been mildly embarrassing breaking down in front of a complete stranger, in public no less, it had felt good. She needed a good cry; just like she needed to hear what she had heard today.

Four Score hadn’t let go of her hand for a second, and not only did he have a handkerchief at the ready when her quiet sobs had turned to sniffles, he also had a joke that turned her sniffles into laughter. After she had settled down, he had more advice and more kind, patient words, all of which she took to heart. The two of them had talked so long, in fact, that eventually she had the pleasure of meeting the old stallion’s herd and two of his granddaughters. They had been lovely, wonderful company, and if she didn't have other business to take care of today she would have happily spent the whole afternoon with them.

Chelsea had been right; these creatures, these ponies, were different. They had this kindness about them, this absolute, overpowering friendliness that could make anyone smile. And it just wasn’t that. The way that they spoke to her, what they talked about, how those big, expressive eyes of theirs would stare at her as they talked and as they listened, how they laughed, how they smiled. None of these ponies had a side agenda, none of them were going to badmouth her when her back was turned.

Sure, they might have been a little nosey all things considered, and extremely talkative, and they seemed to have absolutely no sense of personal space, and they had this weird thing where they broke out into song for seemingly no reason (that had been a heck of a thing to see), but they were good people. Good people with flaws and hopes and dreams and worries just like everyone else. They weren’t monsters that had come to Earth for some nefarious purpose. They weren’t trying to take over the human population or rule the world. They were, just like Chelsea had said, a bunch of cute little weirdos that wanted to be her friend.

She wasn't quite there yet—she could feel a part of herself shying away from the ponies—but she was infinitely better than she had been before. She was no longer the woman that had tried to throw out her boyfriend’s baseball cards because she didn’t like them. She was different now; her once closed eyes had been opened. It wasn't going to be easy, and she was going to have to take it one step at a time, but she had taken her first step in the right direction.

She was going to become a better person. She was going to turn herself into a woman that could stand to look herself in the mirror.

A small smile wormed its way onto Rachel’s face as she stuffed her hands into her pockets. Four Score had insisted that she come visit him and “his girls” in Dodge Junction whenever the whole business with the U.N. and everything after it was all settled, and she had been more than happy to accept his offer. With the way that he and his grandkids had looked at her while they asked, how couldn't she agree?

But that was far off. She still had a lot to do. Phone calls needed to be made, apologies needed to be said. She needed to go and see James. She needed to talk to him and apologize.

A sliver of fear worked its way into the young woman’s belly at the thought of facing her old boyfriend and his new… marefriend. What if James didn’t care what she had to say to him? What if he just flat out refused to see her? What if Celestia did that thing to her nose again? What if she said something that made James hate her?

These fears, these doubts, began to scream in Rachel’s head, vying her attention. She began to slow down, that smile of hers turning into a small, worried frown.

What if all of this sudden desire for change was just the result of the emotional rollercoaster that she had been on today? What if, when she woke up tomorrow, she went back to being the same controlling, angry… thing that she had been for so long? Did something like that happen to people? Could something like that happen to her? Did she deserve this second chance? Did she deserve forgiveness?

Slowing to a crawl, Rachel took a few more steps before finally stopping. Her gaze fell to the pavement at her feet and her hands balled into fists.

CLANG!

She jumped in surprise and her head snapped up and over into an alleyway. Though it was still relatively early in the evening and the sun was still shining brightly outside, not a ray of sunlight could be seen in that space in between buildings. It was dark, it was smelly, it gave off this aura of wrongness that set the body on edge. Rachel could see that garbage bags littered the entire alley and that there were puddles of some foul-smelling, greyish liquid scattered throughout it.

It was a simple alleyway; a home of mice and alley cats and other disgusting, unsanitary things. Every single one in the city looked the same, no matter which part of the city you were in, and she had seen hundreds. She also had enough common sense to stay out of one if she could help it, even in the middle of the day. And she would have too; she would have ignored the sound with a shake of her head and continue forward down the street. It was the smart thing to do; it was the correct thing to do. What stopped her from turning heel and walking away, however, was a figure standing in that alleyway.

“Aw, is the little freak lost?”

“P-Please, I-I just—”

“Look at ‘em! Aw, you gonna cry, horsie?”

A man was standing over something that she couldn't quite make out. Now, this man wasn't the normal, temperate kind that one would see walking the city. This man wasn’t a man that had a nine-to-five job, a little apartment, a girlfriend, and some friends that he went out with on the weekends. No, this man had a gruff, maleficent look about him. His clothes were dirty and ill-fitted, and even from here Rachel could see that he had holes in both his shirts and pants. His hair was long and mangy and unkempt, and whenever he happened to grin, she could see broken, yellowed teeth.

This was not good man. This was not a man that you walked up to and had a conversation with. A man like this was meant to be avoided. He was a criminal, a crook, a bad man.

The man shifted around, almost stumbled really, giving Rachel a good look at what he was standing over. She gasped at what she saw. A pony—he was looming over a pony. An earth pony, with bright green eyes and a little vest and a cowboy hat.

She could see that the poor thing was shaking like a leaf, its back against one of the dirty alley walls and its front legs tucked against its chest. Every few seconds it would look at the man in front of it, then at the alley’s exits. Sometimes it would make to dart past the man, only for the crook to squat down and extend a hand with a chuckle. It was scared, she instantly realized. It was scared and it wanted to get away, but it couldn't.

“God, are you an ugly thing,” The man said, scratching his chin with a dirty hand. “Look at those eyes, and that kooky-looking hair…”

The pony sunk into itself. “P-Please, mister, a-all I want to—”

“I bet I could take you to the South side and sell you to somebody,” the man casually uttered, leaning forward and making to grab the pony. “People alway want them exotic pets. And if that don’t work, I can just take you to a slaughterhouse… Whatcha say, horsie? How’d ya like to be turned into a burger?”

The pony, with wide eyes, squirmed away from the man as best as it could. Its mouth opened slightly, and the sound that the pony made echoed off the walls and into Rachel’s ears. A whimper. A fearful whimper.

Common sense still told her to walk away. She couldn't do anything to help the little guy. She needed to go and get help. That was the smart thing to do. The correct thing. But all of that common sense was silenced when she heard that fearful mewl.

Pulling her hands out of her pockets, Rachel took a step toward the alley, then another, then another, then another. With each step, her pace began to quicken. Her brow furrowed and her fists once again clutched as the man laughed again. As she drew nearer, she noticed his back was hunched oddly. Vulture—she was instantly reminded of. A filthy, dirty, cruel scavenger.

Her footsteps became more and more aggressive, so that she was more stomping than walking across that dirty, decaying cobblestone. The sound echoed through the alleyway as she drew closer and closer. The man perked up at the sound. He turned to look at her just as she drew near enough to smell him.

“Oh? What do we have here?” he cooed, smiling an ugly, twisted smile as Rachel stopped a few feet away from him. “You lost sweetheart?”

Rachel drew herself up to her full height, as unimpressive as it was. “Leave that pony alone,” she commanded, puffing her chest out.

The man looked at her a moment, his brow furrowing, before he began to laugh. “Leave that pony alone? Now why would I do something like that?” he asked, taking a step toward her.

A bolt of panic raced up the young woman’s spine as the crook stood to his full height. Though his body looked unnaturally skinny through the holes of his shirt, he was still bigger than her. A lot bigger.

“Me and the little guy were just talking,” the man continued, eyeing her evilly. “Is there anything wrong with that?”

“L-Leave him alone,” Rachel repeated, though her voice was far meeker.

The man, sensing weakness, lunged forward, his arms spread out wide. “Why don’t you make me, bit—”

Yelping, Rachel did the first thing that came to mind. Lifting a hand up, she extended a finger and pressed it against the lunging man’s nose.

“—ch—erk!”

A ripple ran through the man’s body as Rachel then applied pressure, starting from the top of his head down to the bottom of his toes. He went ramrod stiff, his hazy, milky eyes widening comically and his mouth gaping open.

The young woman’s terror was replaced with confusion. She looked at her extended hand, then at the still as a statue man. For a few seconds she did nothing but stare, trying to process what was happening and failing spectacularly.

The man, meanwhile, began to turn an interesting shade of red, his mouth beginning to foam. His fingers jerked open and closed, as if they had minds of their own. Eyes widening so much so that they seemed to nearly pop out of his head, the man managed to make a gurgling sound out of the corners of his mouth.

Rachel jumped at the noise, her gaze focusing on the man. Staring at that dirty, foul helpless creature in front of her for several very long, very tense moments, she once again found her courage

“Get out of here,” she growled, not at all as fearful as she had been just a few moments prior. She withdrew the pressure on her captive’s nose, which caused him to fall to the ground in a heap, panting and flushed and confused and in more than a bit of pain. “Get out of here before you really piss me off.”

The crook needed no further prompting. Terrified, he scrambled to his feet without a word and took off down the alley as fast as his feet would take them, knocking over trash cans and tripping over his own two feet. Rachel, crossing her arms, watched the man make his escape with a stern expression. It was only when he turned the corner and left her sight did she deflate.

She stumbled forward, desperately grabbing the edge of a garbage can to keep herself from falling. She found herself shaking as the ramifications of what she had just done ran through her head.

What the hell was wrong with her? This wasn’t some comic book or TV show! That guy could have hurt her! He could have kidnapped her! He could have done a hundred terrible, awful things to her if that nose thing hadn't worked!

Why hadn’t she just walked away? Why didn’t she go and get someone so that they could help? Why didn—

A quiet sniffle brought her out of her panic-induced state. She looked over to see that the stallion, his vest, which had every button broken on it, hanging awkwardly on his body, was staring at her with tear-filled eyes. The stallion was dirty, she saw. His tannish, golden coat was muddy and dirty, so much so that she had difficulty seeing anything other than black or brown. His hat looked like it had been torn and he had a bruise on his muzzle. He was also sitting in a puddle of liquid whose origins she very much did not care to guess at, his withers sagged and his tail tucked between his legs.

Seeing this dirty, shaking, sad, and scared little pony, Rachel forgot her panic attack for a few moments, pushing herself away from the garbage can and making her way toward him.

“Hey, are you alright?” she asked, moving slow as to not frighten him any further. “He didn’t hurt you, did—”

In the blink of an eye the stallion closed the distance between them, leaping into the air and wrapping his hooves around her. Rachel grunted in surprise, very nearly losing her balance as the surprisingly heavy stallion buried his face into the nape of her neck, his hat falling off of his head and onto the ground below.

“H-Hey!” she cried, suddenly fearful. “What are you—”

A sob escaped the pony’s throat, silencing her protest. “Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!”

Another sob escaped the hysterical stallion’s throat as he held her all the tighter, dirtying her clothes and shaking like a leaf. Feeling awkward, her nose scrunching up at his smell, Rachel patted the pony’s back as he began to cry. “It’s, um, it’s alright,” she said. “It’s alright…”

She could feel the stallion’s heart pounding in his chest as he shook and cried. He was still scared; even though the danger had passed, he was still scared. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she held the dirty, smelly, shaken little pony just a bit tighter, muttering comfortingly into his ear.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m here. No one’s going to hurt you. Everything’s going to be alright. Everything’s going to be alright…”

His fur, though dirty and soaked, still felt silky soft against her fingers as she ran her hands up and down his back. She found herself leaning into him just a little more. He smelled like apples under all that garbage, she noticed, as his shaking slowly began to stop. Just like with Four Score, the stallion felt surprisingly warm, and his weight, though significant, wasn’t so much that she couldn’t handle him. In fact, it felt rather nice to have that weight pressed up against her like it was.

Sighing, Rachel wrapped her arms around the pony’s barrel and hugged him nice and tight. The stallion whimpered, nosing her neck. His mane tickled her nose as he did this, filling her nose with that smell of apples. If she had the luxury, she might have held the hug for as long as she could, but they were still in the alley, and possibly still in danger if that man decided to come back with friends.

“Come on, hon,” she said gently, smiling to herself even as the stallion continued to nuzzle her neck like a scared dog. “Let’s get out of this nasty alley and out onto the street.”

It took some doing, the stallion hadn’t wanted to let go of her, but eventually Rachel managed to drag the pony out of the alley and out onto the street. The two of them got some looks, dirty and ragged as they were, but she ignored them for the most part, once again turning her attention to the stallion. Seeing that his nose was running and his cheeks were soaked with tears, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief and presented it to him.

“T-Thank you,” the stallion muttered, with a sniffle, grabbing it and beginning to clean up his face as best as he could.

Kneeling down, she placed a hand on his wither. “Are you alright?” she asked

The stallion sniffled before loudly blowing his nose. “I lost my f-friends somewhere in the c-city,” he said. “That c-colt came over and h-he said that h-he knew w-where they were…”

He looked up at her with big, sad eyes. “H-He led me into t-that alley, and i-if you hadn’t c-come when you d-did he would of… he m-might of…”

“Shush, shush, shush,” Rachel said, pulling him into a hug. “I kicked that jerk to the curb. You’re never going to see him again.”

The pony looked up at her, fear and innocence in those pretty green eyes of his. “Y-You promise?”

Rachel smiled. “I promise. Now how about we get you outta here and cleaned up? Then we can go and look for your friend—”

The pony darted forward once again, but this time, instead of another hug, like she was expecting, she was given a kiss on the cheek. It wasn’t much of a kiss really, and it was done so fast that if she hadn’t been paying attention she wouldn’t have even noticed, but even still she could feel the emotion behind it. The happiness, the relief, the gratitude, even some innocence—like she was back in the third grade and had just gotten a kiss from a boy behind the bleachers. She could feel it all from that quick little kiss. It ran through her body like a lightning bolt, filling her with warmth and making her quietly aw.

“M-My names, Braeburn,” the pony mumbled, tilting his hat downward in a futile attempt to hide the blush
that was spreading across his cheeks.

Rachel’s smile widened just a hair as she looked down at this adorable, silly little pony. She resisted the sudden yet powerful urge to take off his hat and ruffle his mane, instead reaching down and grabbing his hoof. Braeburn, his face as red as an apple, looked up at her and smiled shyly. Her heart fluttered at the sight, and her smile grew so big that he half expected it to fall from her face.

“Hello, Braeburn,” she said. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

<0\*88\*0>

It was quiet in the room. The TV was turned off, as was the radio and the computer. The only sounds that could be heard was the ticking from the clock hanging on the walls, breathing, and the occasional happy sight.

It was James’s day off once again, and a much needed one at that. In the last few weeks, the young man had seen a flurry of activity and change. He had met dozens of ponies, talked to politician and news reporter alike. He had traveled to New York City to speak on the behalf of the ponies at a U.N. assembly. He had even made the trip to Equestria for a short period of time at the behest of his girlfriend. All of it was a lot to take in, especially for a mailman that didn’t consider himself anything special, but he had somehow gotten through it.

A sigh escaped his lips as he nuzzled himself against Celestia’s chest. He and the big alicorn were lying on the futon, doing nothing but holding each other and being the kind of lazy that would make Huckleberry Finn proud.

The princess had her hooves wrapped around him and was nuzzling the top of his head. James was amusing himself by rubbing his thumb against her hoof as he listened to the beating of her heart. Though the two of them were so different, their bodies seemed made to hold each other like this. It felt natural, comfortable, enjoyable.

Letting his hand wander up Celestia’s leg, he mussed up her fur to the knee for no better reason because he enjoyed the feeling of her fur on his fingertips. Celestia unfurled a wing from her back and laid it over him, humming a quiet tune as she did so. A smile broke across James’s face as he closed his eyes.

It had been a long time since he was able to relax like this—to let go. It had also been the first time in a long time since he was able to really smile on this couch with someone that he really cared for. He might have only met this someone a few weeks ago, but in those few weeks that he had the privilege of knowing her, he had learned just how kind, how encouraging, how wonderful this princess, this pony was. Every single day that he woke up, he wanted to learn more about her: her likes, her dislikes, what she liked to do and where she liked to go.

It was like he was a little kid again and his crush had just agreed to go to prom with him, but times a million better and more wholesome. This feeling he felt, as he laid there, snuggled up against this strange creature whom he had let into his home, was one that he had never felt before. It was a powerful feeling, an exciting one. It made him both scared and giddy, along with nervous and frightened and happy and glad. He might not fully know this princess, this Celestia, and after he had learned just how old she was, he might never know her. But as he sat there, enjoying the feeling of her chin rubbing against the top of his head, lying against her vulnerable and relaxed and happy, he knew that he wanted to try. He wanted to try with all of his heart.

James was half asleep when there was a knock on the door. Both he and Celestia twitched at the sudden, seemingly booming noise. They looked at each other for a few moments, confused as to who would be calling upon them at this hour. There was another knock at the door, this one more of a tap than a knock.

Untangling himself from his princess, James began to make his way to the door. Celestia tried to playfully grab him and drag him back onto the futon with her wings, but with some equally playful slaps, he managed to make his way to the door without much of a fuss.

Stopping a foot from it, he looked himself over. He ran a hand through his messy hair, straightened out his old, ratty t-shirt by rigorously tugging on it, and wiggled around to unwrinkle his pants. Yawning, he then grabbed the doorknob and twisted it, taking a step back as he did so. Opening the door, he saw Rachel, dirty and sweaty and frazzled, standing out in the hallway, tugging at the bottom of her shirt. Beside her was an equally dirty and frazzled earth pony with a cowboy hat who looked like he had been crying recently.

James’s brow furrowed in confusion and surprise. He opened his mouth to say something but no sound came out. He tried again with similar results as the earth pony looked up at Rachel, who bit her lip.

“...Hello, James,” she said shyly. “I made a new friend today. His name’s Braeburn.” She stared down at her feet, shifting her weight to the balls of her feet. “Would it be alright if we came in? I have… I want to… can we talk? Please?”

James blinked owlishly as the young woman’s pleading tone. This wasn’t the Rachel that he knew. The Rachel that he knew wouldn’t be this quiet, and she most certainly wouldn’t be asking him to come in like this, dirty and exhausted as she was. He had known her for more than two years and he had never seen her like this—this open, this exposed, this scared.

He looked her up and down as she stood there quietly, waiting for his verdict when, to her surprise, he took a step back and nodded his head. The young woman brightened in a way that nearly made him smile, but he forced his face into a neutral mask.

He would listen to what she had to say first. Then, and only then, would he decided if she was worth bothering with. Besides, she looked like she had a story to tell. A story which he would most definitely like to be told.

“Alright,” he said as Celestia climbed to her hooves, curious to see who the visitors were. “Come on in.”

They Came from the Futon!

Author's Note

Ladies and gentlemen, I want you to do me a favor. This is a... different story, an admittedly weird one. This isn't going to be everyone's cup of tea. But, before you go ahead and downvote it and start losing it in the comments, I just want to you read the whole thing. It's not very long, it's only going to have five relatively short chapters, so if you could, PLEASE refrain your judgment until the end.

I know that 90% of people don't read this, and the other ten are probably going to give me the finger for giggles, but I thought that I'd throw it out there.

Now please, enjoy.

They Came from the Futon!

Rachel always liked to think she was level-headed girl. Sure, she had her moments just like anyone else, there were times when she would let emotions get the better of her, but all-in-all she wasn’t one that jumped to conclusions or overreacted at the drop of a dime. She reacted well under pressure, she acted smartly whenever the need arose, and she always made sure to think before she spoke. In most cases.

“…She’s a horse.”

Before her, sitting on the futon that they had bought together the day that they moved into their apartment, was her boyfriend James. It was his day off; she could tell because he was wearing what he usually wore on his days off: a pair of far too big pajama bottoms and his dirty and ripped up Buzz Lightyear t-shirt that he had gotten half-off at a flea market when he was twelve. She never particularly liked that shirt of his. It was an old, ratty thing with too many holes and stains that clung stubbornly to the fabric no matter how many times she threw it in the wash.

Time and again she had tried throwing the thing away, had tried for years and years, but James would never let her. She had tried begging and pleading. She had offered to buy him the same shirt—one that would actually fix him and one that didn’t have so many holes in it. She had threatened, and more than once she had tried to just dispose of it herself when he wasn’t home. She had tried all of these things, but time and again she’d fail. As if some otherworldly force had it out for her, James would always refuse her bargains, ignore her threats, and bring the t-shirt back home, cleaning it off and placing it in the closet in between his dress shirts whenever she threw it away.

Seeing it always drove her crazy, and every time that she looked at it her eye would always twitch.

But her main focus at the moment wasn’t her boyfriend, who was sitting on their futon with his legs crossed and his hands resting on his legs. It was the creature seated next to him.

“Pony actually,” said being chirped, leaning over and wrapping an enormous wing around James’s shoulders.

Rachel stared at the creature sitting on her futon with nothing less than mystified confusion and shock. All things considered, it was an oddly pretty creature. She liked how pretty its white, almost ivory-colored, fur looked, and those wings on its back looked especially soft, fluffy, and rather striking. That, along with its long, spiraled horn and big, pretty amethyst eyes, made the inner girl in her squeal. It was a unicorn; a unicorn with wings and soft, plush fur and a pudgy belly and the most beautiful mane and tail that she had ever seen was sitting on her futon with its wing around her boyfriend.

She let her gaze linger on the pony for a few moments more. She looked at the crown and necklace, both of which seemed to glitter in the artificial light of the room. She looked at its slender body, its long neck, its oddly thick and shapely rump with what looked like a sun on each hip. She looked at this wondrous, fantastical, beautiful, impossible creature that had just up and appeared in her home as if by magic. And her eye twitched.

Taking a few deep, deep breathes to calm herself, she looked over at James. His slightly too long hair teased the top of his eyebrows as he stared back at her. If one didn’t know any better they’d have said that he looked completely calm, but Rachel knew better. There was a sadness in those green eyes of his; the same kind of sadness that one might see in a puppy dog when it was caught eating its owner’s food, but right along with it she could see determination and resolution. Rachel rarely saw such a look in his eyes, but whenever she did she knew she was in for a headache. A big one.

She had known her boyfriend for many, many years. James was a pretty alright guy all things considered. Not great but acceptable. He had a job at the local post office and he made alright money. He was also pretty good looking; not a ten outta ten, but a girl could take someone like him home to meet her parents without feeling embarrassed. Sure, he had some odd… quirks, but what man didn’t?

But this though. THIS was something else.

“Rachel, I know that you might be hurt right now but you have to understand,” he began, leaning forward and placing his hands in his lap. “But I’ve been doing a bit of soul-searching and —”

“She’s a horse!” Rachel blurted out, outrage mixing in with her confusion. “You’re dumping me for a horse?!”

“Pony,” James corrected matter-of-factly, with a bizarre amount of confidence. “But yes, I’m dumping you for a pony.”

He drummed his fingers against his legs in the way that he always did when he was nervous.

"...You can keep everything in the kitchen, and the bed if you want. And I know you like the TV too so you can have that as well, but I kinda want the futon if you don't mind. I’ve had a lot of good memories on this thing. And I'd REALLY appreciate it if I could have the fridge too maybe…?"

The question hung in the air for a few moments as Rachel stared at him. Not screamed, not shouted, just stared at him, wearing an expression of confused irritation. She waited for him to hop off the futon and start laughing. He’d say that he was kidding. He’d show her that the pony regally sitting on the futon with that smile of hers, was some sort of puppet. She’d yell at him because he deserved to be yelled at. He’d start laughing like the dummy he was. He’d then immediately stop laughing when she stormed into their bedroom, tossing him a pillow, and informed him that he’d be sleeping on the futon tonight.

But the laughter never came.

Though she tried her hardest to look for them, she couldn’t find any strings or wires anywhere near the pony. As far as she could tell the rise and fall of the pony’s chest, the blinking of its eyes, the small movements in its wings and hooves and ears were very real. In spite of all rationality, in spite of all that was good and sensible, it seemed that she actually had a talking, horned, winged pony, who was the size of a Great Dane, sitting on her futon. And said pony had, somehow, taken her boyfriend from her.

Rachel opened her mouth. She then closed it as both James and the pony looked at her expectantly. “That’s a horse, James,” she finally, flatly, pointedly, said after a few moments. “You know that that’s a horse right?”

“I’m very aware that she’s a pony, yes,” James said with a confident nod.

Rachel nodded in turn. There was still no laughter, no joke. As far as she could tell this… whatever it was, was really happening. She went silent again, trying to process the madness that was happening before her.

During this lull of conversation, the pony unfurled its other wing and wrapped it around James’s front, effectively encasing the young man in a feathery cocoon. It almost seemed like a possessive act as Rachel watched it, like the pony was marking James as its property and it wanted her to know it in no uncertain terms.

Though the pony looked as calm as it had since the moment that Rachel had entered the room, she saw a glint in its eyes as it pulled her boyfriend toward itself. A glint that she didn’t very much care for. “I'm afraid what he says is true, my dear,” the pony said, its voice as light and as lasting as a bell. “I’ve taken him as my mate.”

Rachel’s eye twitched again as the pony wrapped its hooves around James and pulled him into its lap. Not keeping its eyes off of her, it nuzzled the back of his neck, much to James’s delight.

In any other situation such a sight would have given her a heart attack. But now? Now she wanted to grab a broom and chase this horse out of their apartment to wherever it had come from.

“...You’ve taken him as your mate?”

The pony nodded, resting its head on her boyfriend’s shoulder. Its mane, floating through the air as if caught up in some gentle breeze, flowing on either side of James’s head. James squirmed as those flowing, rainbow-colored hairs tickled his neck and cheeks, looking like he was nearly ready to burst with laughter, but the pony made sure to hold onto him tight.

“Yes. After speaking to him for a good length of time and listening to him talk about himself and his place and duty in this world, I decided that it was my duty to take him as my mate.”

“But you’re a horse!” Rachel snapped.

The pony’s wings tightened around James as it nuzzled his neck. James sighed at the contact, a small smile working its way onto his face as he wiggled deeper into its embrace.

“Though I understand your frustration there really is no need for name-calling my dear,” the pony, a mare if Rachel wasn’t mistaken, said, eyes narrowing slightly. “I sincerely hope that you aren’t this rude to other ponies that you meet.”

“She kinda is,” James piped up before she could open her mouth, leaning against his new mate. "But not to ponies per say, since I don't think she's ever met a talking pony before. It's more of a generalization of her not liking to talk to any new people really..."

Rachel’s eyes narrowed in a way that would have given Lucifer himself pause. “James… I swear to god…”

She took a few steps toward the new, inseparable couple, her fists clutched in indignation. Blowing a bit of her hair out of her face she opened her mouth to start yelling.

What the heck was wrong with him? Why had he let this… thing into their house? Why hadn’t he called the cops when he first saw it? Where did he get off saying that she was rude? She wasn’t rude! She was friendly! Nice even! Just because she wasn’t a stupid postman who talked to everyone every day didn’t mean that she was some sort of people-hating banshee!

These thoughts caused her to stand to her full height. She puffed her chest out and sucked in a lungful of air through her nose. “James, get your butt—”

All of the sudden, the tip of the pony’s horn glowed. Before Rachel could take another step, an invisible force lifted her into the air like she was a rag doll.

"W-What the--?!"

Rachel’s eyes widened hugely as she felt herself become completely weightless in the span of half a second. She looked down at her feet, too shocked to yell or scream, to see that the same golden glow around the pony’s horn was around her body.

With a less-than-pleased sniffle the pony flicked its head, sending her gently floating back a few feet. “I’d very much appreciate it if you did not come toward the two of us in such a threatening manner, please,” the pony very politely, but very firmly, asked as she set the dazed and confused girl back down. “While I do not consider myself a very violent mare, I will not hesitate to boop you viciously to protect my stallion if you force me to.”

James’s smile seemed to light up the room for a few moments as he looked up at the mare. “Aw, thanks hon~”

As the two nuzzled Rachel looked around the room, blinking owlishly. There was no one else in the room as far as she could tell. She heard no breathing or giggling. She hadn’t eaten or drank anything unusual today so she wasn’t seeing things. James still hadn’t told her that this was a joke yet.

If one would have listened very closely, they might have heard something snap inside the young woman. Something that probably shouldn't have snapped.

“Your stallion…? Your STALLION?! HIM?!” she snarled, pointing a finger at the man in question.

“Yes him,” the pony answered. “He’s wonderful, thoughtful, and might I add handsome young stallion.”

“Handsome young…? HE’S A WEIRDO THAT COLLECTS STAMPS AND BASEBALL CARDS!”

“Hey now...” James muttered, sinking into the pony’s warm, comforting embrace, trying to shield himself from the unexpected verbal lashing. “There’s nothing weird about collecting stamps and baseball cards. A lot of people do it. Tons of people.”

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with your hobby, dear,” the pony reassured, quickly yanking Rachel into the air once again as the now furious woman stomped toward the two. “In fact I find it rather endearing.”

“It’s not endearing, it’s useless and stupid!” Rachel snapped, by this point absolutely seething. “James, tell this horse or pony or whatever the hell it is to let me down right now!”

“See? I told you that she was one heck of a grump,” James grumbled, his brow furrowing.

“I can see that,” the pony commented, eyeing Rachel with a hint distaste. “It’s honestly beyond me why another human mare hasn’t come and tried to snatch you out of this harpy’s clutches…”

“HARPY?! EXCUSE YO—” Before Rachel could finish her sentence pressure was applied to the tip of her nose. As if some unknown power had taken control of her, her eyes crossed and her body went rigid.

The pony, staring at her with dangerously narrowed eyes, huffed. “Shame on you, young lady. Can’t you see that you are distressing this poor stallion?” she chastised, shaking her head. “After all that you’ve done to him can you honestly—”

A very unladylike snort escaped Rachel's lips. "James," she growled with a vigorous shake of the head, too upset to question what had just happened. "Tell. This. Horse. To. Put. Me. Down. Now."

Both the pony and her boyfriend looked at each other. The pony leaned forward and nuzzled James's brow, whispering something into his ear that made him smile. She then turned her attention back to her, eyes narrowed and a frown on her face.

“I’m sure that your mother taught you better than this,” she proclaimed, disappointment and anger clear in its voice, before her horn glowed even brighter.

Once again Rachel's eyes crossed and her body seized up as the pressure once again appeared on the top of her nose. She couldn't move, no matter how hard she tried to thrash about, she could barely think, the only thing that she could really do was wait for it, whatever it was, to be over. It was like she wasn’t even in control of her body anymore. She was powerless, helpless, and if the situation she found herself in wasn’t so unbelievable she might have even been afraid.

The sensation on her nose was held for a few more moments, though to her it felt like an eternity, before it all of the sudden disappeared. The second that it was gone, Rachel’s body went limp and her nose scrunched up hard.

“Wha…. What did you do to me?” she mumbled, shaking her head again.

“I believe I made my stance on booping very clear,” the pony responded, her voice like cold steel. “Now I would suggest that you calm yourself before I am forced you boop you a third time.”

“You better do as she says, Rach,” James advised, obviously amused. “She’ll boop you senseless if she has to. Past senselessness even.”

Once again Rachel found herself standing on her two feet as the pony gently sat her down. The moment that her feet touched the floor she took a few steps back, eyeing the pony warily. The pony just stared back at her calmly, a small smile on her face.

For a few moments no one said anything. The room was completely, absolutely silent, and in that silence Rachel took a long, hard look at the situation. Here she was, having just come home from her job at the bank, to find that her boyfriend had been stolen by some talking horse that had mind powers and the ability to make her body stop working by just touching her nose. It was a lot to take in for anyone, and if she was being honest with herself she didn’t feel properly equipped to handle a situation like this. But that didn’t mean that she wasn’t going to try.

“JAM—” she stopped herself, taking a deep breath. She couldn’t start yelling again. Yelling wasn’t going to help her. She needed to be logical about this. She needed to think things through. She needed to show her boyfriend how absolutely, totally, completely idiotic he was being.

“James, honey, I want you to think about this,” she said as gently as she could, fixing her blouse. “We’ve been together for two years. We share an apartment together. We sleep in the same bed. I know everything about you and you know everything about me.” She jammed a thumb to the pony. “How long has this pony known you?”

“About five hours," James answered without hesitation. “Give or take.”

“FIVE HOU—” Rachel bit her lip hard. Closing her eyes, she took a few deep breaths. “Five hours?” she asked, almost, but not quite, able to keep the anger out of her voice.

“That is correct,” the pony said with a nod. “While I was working on a spell there was an accident. A rift was opened up and I happened to fall into it.”

“She ended up landing right on top of me,” James added, snuggling deeper into the pony's wings. “Scared the crap out of me.”

Rachel’s face contorted. This. This was why her mom kept telling her to dump this dummy. “Ano—”

“While I was leery at first James here has been a very kind, very informative host,” the pony interrupted, sighing dreamingly. “And I, personally, find him very fetching, both on the outside and on the inside. I also especially appreciate his taste in clothing. ”

“See? She likes my t-shirt, Rach,” James said, with just a hint of smugness.

Rachel tried to keep herself calm. She tried to remember the breathing exercises that she had heard about on TV. She tried to think of happier things. She even attempted to push through her rage with sheer, overwhelming willpower. But she failed. She failed very badly in fact.

“SHE’S A HORSE!!” she roared, seeing red. “YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT DATING A HORSE, JAMES. YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT LEAVING ME FOR AN ANIMAL THAT YOU MET FIVE FREAKING HOURS AGO!”

That seemed to give James pause. A frown came to his face and his brow scrunched up thoughtfully. He looked down at his feathery prison. He then looked at the gently smiling pony holding him closely against her chest. He finally looked over at Rachel herself, those green eyes of his clear and focused. She could see the gears in his mind churning. He was finally starting to think things through.

Though she could still feel anger burning in her belly, she couldn’t help but sigh in relief. He was going to see how ridiculous he was being. He was going to get away from that creature and call the cops so that they could take it away.

After all of this nonsense was over they were going to need to have a long talk but they’d get through it together. Everything was going to be fine. Everything was going to be—

“You know what…? I think I’ll see how this whole thing plays out,” James said with a nod.

Rachel smiled. “Fantastic. Now why don’t you get away from that thing and—” She stopped. “Wait… what did you just say?”

“I think I’m gonna try something new, Rach,” James told her, smiling. “Even though I don’t know Celestia here all that well, we’ve been doing a lot of talking since she came here and she seems like a really sweet gal that I’d really like to get to know a little bit better.”

The pony, now named Celestia, quietly hummed as James leaned back against her. She looked happy with the young man’s response, delighted even. You could see the happiness light up those big expressive eyes of hers. You could see it in the way that she wiggled on the couch as she held James as tight as she could against her. This alien, this pony, with her wings and her horn and her magical mane and tail, looked like she had just won a stunning victory and was about to shout it to the heavens.

Rachel, on the other hand, was not feeling all that happy. In fact, one might say that she was shattered. Not because she was just dumped. She had been dumped before, by better men she might add, but she had never felt this confused or angry or any of the other dozen emotions that were making her breathing shallow and her ears ring. No, she was shattered because she had been dumped for a horse. A horse!

Placing a shaking hand against her tight chest, she took a step forward. “Y-You… you,” she began, not able to find the right words. Taking a few more shallow breaths, she tried again “You want to take e-everything they w-we’ve built together and throw it all away for some b-barnyard animal?”

“I am not a barnyard animal. I am a princess thank you very much!” Princess Celestia said indignantly, her chest puffing out. “And while there’s no need to refer to me by my title I insist that I be given at least an iota of respect!”

Rachel was about to yell once more but pressure came back to her nose, leaving her speechless for an instant before the pressure disappeared. Sputtering, she took a few hasty steps backward.

“I can’t believe that you’re doing this! What are people going to say?” she demanded with a stomp of her foot. “What about your parents, James? What are they gonna say when they find out that their weirdo son is going out with a talking pony?!”

Holding her new mate just a bit tighter, Celestia chuckled. “I’m afraid that your words no longer hold any sway with James here, my dear” she proclaimed with a shake of her head. “I have taken him from you with my marely prowess and my pretty wings and my kisses!”

Rachel tried to take a step forward, only to be driven back by another magical boop. She tried once more, only to be driven back in a similar way.

“I have heard what your people’s females do to your stallions. How you expect so much without any in return. Your coldness, your arrogance. And that isn’t even the tip of the iceberg if what James has been telling me has even a spark of truth.”

“Urk! Will you stop—Erk! STOP POKING MY—ACK! STOP IT!”

“I had thought to simply leave this world unmolested but I cannot suffer the cruelty, the injustice of this place.” Celestia’s eyes narrowed as she gave James another nuzzle. “Your people need companionship, love, but most of all you need friendship. I and my little ponies will teach you these lessons. We will love and cuddle all of you; every single one I say!”

Rachel looked over at James. Even as she was being driven back by a force that she didn’t totally understand a part of her was still waiting for the joke. Oh, if he’d start laughing now she’d dump him in a heartbeat, punch him as hard as she could, and throw his crazy butt out onto the street where he belonged for taking it this far, but a small, small part of her still thought that this was all some sort of extremely elaborate prank.

But there was no joke. This was happening. This was happening and she was a part of it.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, James and I really must get back to watching this magical box and eating these delightful carrot chips and these or-e-os,” Celestia continued as she drove Rachel toward the door. “Goodbye, young filly. May harmony shine upon you and lead you toward the right path.”

“I SWEAR TO—URK! I’M GOING TO CALL THE COPS AND—ERK! AND THEY’RE GOING TO COME HERE AND DRAG—EEP! YOU TO THE NEAREST GLUE FACTORY YOU—”

The front door to their apartment opened up behind her as Rachel staggered backward. As dazed and as cross-eyed as she had become, she didn’t notice that she had stepped out into the hallway until the door was gently closed in her face. The second that the door was closed it was also locked, the sharp clicking sound cutting through the otherwise content silence of that hallway. Holding her nose, Rachel righted herself just as two big bags, filled to the brim with what looked like clothing, appeared in front of the door.

She stared at these bags, breathing hard, then at the door. A thousand thoughts ran through her head, some of them angry, some of them upset, but most of them being of the furious category. Many of these thoughts, if enacted, would land her in a bit of trouble, and others… more so. But, as said before, Rachel wasn’t the type to let the heat of the moment sweep her up.

Her ex-boyfriend wanted to dump her for some barnyard animal? Fine. She could have someone better than him by the end of the week. She could find twice the man. A man among men. A man that men wanted to be and women wanted to be with.

With that thought in mind she walked over, bent down, and grabbed her bags with a huff, and did her best to pick up what was left of her pride. “I JUST WANT YOU TO REMEMBER THAT YOU DUMPED ME FOR A HORSE, JAMES!” she yelled, not caring who would hear. “YOU LOST THE BEST THING IN YOUR LIFE FOR SOME FURRY ANIMAL!”

Neither James nor Celestia responded to her shouting, but pressing her head against the door and hearing quiet, happy laughter through the door told her that her words didn’t bother the two all that much.