"Friendship Lessons"

“I spy with my little eye something… Ohohohoho! Something red!”

Atticus, Equestria’s one and only human—or apelien as some ponies like to jokingly say—was sitting outside of Sugarcube Corner, leaning against the bakery itself with his feet propped up on one of shop’s outside seating. Sitting next to him was his dear old buddy and greatest party pony in all of the land, Pinkie Pie.

Though dirt and bits of hard rock were dirtying her rump, the mare didn’t seem to notice that at all. Instead, her bright blue eyes scanned the marketplace with barely concealed delight. Atticus, who did his best not to give the fluffy tail sitting in his lap a tug, also scanned the market. Unlike Pinkie’s gaze however, which couldn’t seem to stay focused on anything for more than half a second, his gaze was thoughtful.

The two were in the middle of a game. A game which he was losing. Very badly.

“…Is it an apple?” he asked, trying his hardest to see every item in the market.

Pinkie shook her head. “Nope!”

Atticus scratched his chin, his eyes narrowing. “Is it one of those flowers Roseluck is handing out?”

“Nope!”

“It is any of the flowers at the stall then?”

“Nuh-uh!”

A low grumble escaped the Atticus’s throat. He sat up, resting his hands on his knees as his eyes narrowed down to slits.

“Alright. Red, red, red…” he said to himself.

For nearly a minute he was quiet, trying to figure out what his pink friend had spied with her little eye. Eventually he had seen enough and, with a determined gleam in his eye, turned toward Pinkie.

“One of Bonbon’s candies?”

“Nope!”

“One of those feathers that cart’s selling over there?”

“Nope!”

“The bed sheets?”

“Nope!”

“One of those books with the red covers?”

“Nope!”

“Those stained-glass cup thingies?”

“Ohhh! They’re selling those again?! We should go and get a couple, Atty!”

Atticus frowned. “Those aren’t it then?”

Pinkie shook her head. “Nope! You’re not warm at all either, you silly filly.”

“Fuck,” Atticus said with a frown. “Fine, I give up. What is it?”

Pinkie giggled triumphantly before pointing to one of the carts. “See that toy soldier over there?”

Atticus leaned forward, looking toward the cart his friend had pointed out. The longer he looked the deeper his frown became.

“Oh that’s bullshit,” he said, leaning back against the side of the building. “That thing’s tiny. There’s no way I could have seen that!”

“Then you should go and get some glasses, Atty, because I saw it fine,” Pinkie said. “You’ll need to get itty-bitty glasses though, since you have such itty-bitty eyes.”

Atticus made a dismissive hand gesture. “My eyes are fine. The problem is that you little horses have fucking eagle vision…”

Pinkie giggled again. “That’s another win for me!” she said, bumping her side against his. “I picked an easy one too.”

“Don’t you rub it in, you little fuzz ball.”

“Aw, don’t be such a grumpy Gus, Atty. Why don’t we play again? I’ll make sure to pick a really easy one this time.”

Atticus covered his face with his hands. “We’ve been playing I Spy for the past two hours, Pinkie. If we go any longer, I think I’m gonna put my head through one of the Cake’s tables.”

“You might be really, really bad at I Spy, but hurting yourself isn’t gonna make you better at it,” Pinkie said, placing a hoof on his shoulder.

Atticus took a deep breath before sighing. “…If you weren’t so goddamn adorable I’d pick you up and kick you across town, you little shit.”

Pinkie grinned. “You’d have to see me fir— Oh! Heya Rarity!”

For a moment, to Atticus at least, the sun became a bit dimmer. The warm fall air grew colder as well, and the once pleasant atmosphere around the marketplace evaporated. Though his hand still covered his face, he could feel someone looking at him and a distinct “Humph!” could be heard a few feet away.

Atticus knew that he should just keep his eyes covered. He should just ignore the pony standing right in front of him giving him the stink eye. Eventually she’d go away and everything would be fine. He knew this, and the rational side of him was screaming to just keep his mouth shut and do it. But there was a feeling welling up inside of him, a feeling that tightened his stomach, made him grit his teeth and want to lash out at the one looking down at him. That feeling wasn’t quite utter loathing, but it was pretty close.

Letting his hand fall from his face, he glared up at Rarity. She—as he knew she would—looked down at him with an expression that was utterly dripping with contempt. Her usually graceful and ladylike façade had given way to a scrunched up nose and narrowed eyes. Her tail rapidly flicked from side to side with the occasional flick of her mane. It looked, for all the world, like she was going to charge him.

Staring down at him for a few more moments—making a noise of disgust—the tip of Rarity’s horn glowed. Her blue magic encircled his legs, lifting them from the chair they were lounging on.

“I understand that a savage like you wouldn’t understand tact, Atticus, but one does not prop their hooves on a chair,” she said, letting his feet drop to the ground none too gently. “Especially when one is in polite company and that chair is not yours.”

Atticus could hear the restraint in the unicorn’s voice. Just like him, she was trying her hardest not to cause a scene. It was this thought that stopped him from throwing a scathing remark Rarity’s way. Stopping himself from speaking was a surprisingly herculean task, but he managed to do it, if only barely.

With a toss of her mane, Rarity looked over at Pinkie, who was no longer laughing or smiling. In fact, she looked downright glum.

“Pinkie dear, I just wanted to thank you for helping Sweetie with her science project yesterday,” Rarity said, a small smile coming to her face. “Both Sweetie and I appreciate it.”

Pinkie returned the unicorn’s smile, though hers was much more forced. “Auntie Pinkie was happy to help!” she said, tapping her forelegs together.

Rarity’s eyes darted back to Atticus, and her smile evaporated. “Yes well, as much as I’d like to stay and chat, I have some… things that need doing. However, if you’d perhaps like to come to the boutique later this afternoon, I’d welcome you with open hooves and some tea.”

The mare’s ears perked up and she once again looked over at Atticus. The young man could see she expected him to say something. But he wasn’t going to. He was just going to sit there quietly until she left. That was exactly what he was going to do.

Pinkie’s smile became a little less forced. “Okie dokie. I’ll bring the cupcakes.”

Rarity nodded, turning away.

Atticus was so close. He was watching herleave. All he needed to do was wait for another minute and the little horse he hated so much would be long gone. He knew this.

“Make sure not to bring too many, Pinks. The great white porker over there will eat you outta house and home if you’re not careful,” he said.

It took several seconds for him to realize just what he had said, but when he did he winced. He opened his mouth to say something, to try to do a bit of damage control, but by then it was far too late.

In a flash, Rarity had spun back around and came up nose-to-muzzle with him. “I beg your pardon, but I do not care for what you’re implying, you cretin.”

Atticus tried to stop. He tried with all of his might, but even so the words continued to flow out of his mouth.

“Hey, will you do me a favor and back up a bit? You smell like old cum and shame.”

A growl escaped Rarity’s throat. “I believe the wind has just picked up, so you’re likely smelling yourself, you beast,” she said.

“Cunt,” Atticus shot back.

Though neither of them noticed, Pinkie’s mane lost its curls and its bounciness, hanging limply against her shoulders. She looked at the two, obviously holding back tears.

“Please d-don’t—"

“Sub-equine filth!” Rarity shrieked, cutting her off.

“Bitchy, bitch bitch!” Atticus said, leaping to his feet so that he could loom over the much mare.

“Unwashed savage!”

“You shitty dress making, tacky little fuzzball!”

Rarity flinched as if struck, a gasp escaping her as her eyes widened. “Tacky? TACKY?!” she shrieked.

Her horn blazed to life. All around the marketplace various objects were encased in her magic and lifted into the air. Some of these things were relatively harmless; a piece of fruit, or a pillow, or a comically large eraser. Other things were far more harmful however, and of the sharp and pointy verity.

Atticus watched as the unicorn lifted all of these things high into the air, her blue eyes blazing with indignity and anger. Internally he couldn’t help but sigh and chastise himself for getting worked up. That didn’t stop him from reaching down and pulling one of his shoes off his feet however.

“Fucking bring it, you marshmallow, fake ass accent having, tubby, overly perfumed dodo.”

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Princess Twilight’s castle—also known as the Crystal Castle of Doom and Friendship by a certain purple dragon—was usually a bright and cheery place. For as long as she had had this castle, Twilight did her best to make it as welcoming to the common pony as she could, and had urged any that wished to visit do so—within reason of course. Many ponies could be seen entering and exiting the castle for anything from using the new library to asking the princess herself for friendship advice. At that moment however, there were no ponies coming in or out of the castle. In fact, the castle doors had been locked and signs had been put up saying that the princess wouldn’t see anypony for the rest of the day.

Princess Twilight herself, who was a usually very nice and friendly mare, looked like she was ready to throw something as she stood behind the desk in her personal study. Both Atticus and Rarity sat on the opposite side of the desk, looking like they had just come out of a warzone.

Rarity’s mane and coat were covered in dirt, apple skins, and metal shavings. There were a few visible bruises on the mare’s body, the most noticeable being on her flank, where a size eleven shoe had become very much acquainted. Atticus, meanwhile, was sitting there with a face covered in what looked like black soot. His shirt was in tatters, and all of the skin on both of his knuckles had been scraped raw.

Twilight looked at the two of them, waiting for one of them to say something. An apology, an explanation, something that would explain why both of them had caused such a commotion that the guards had to be called. After nearly a minute of this tense, awkward silence, Atticus let out a sigh.

“This wasn’t my fault. It was hers,” he said, pointing at Rarity. “She was the one that started it like the cunt she is.”

Rarity gasped. “I did not, you ruffian!” she cried, her head whipping around so she could glare at him. “If it weren’t for you I’d be home right now working on my next dress!”

“More like working on your next tub of ice cream, you fatty.”

“Oh, you despicable cre—”

The tip of Twilight’s horn glowed. Before either Atticus or Rarity could say a single word more, their jaws snapped shut. Closing her eyes, the princess took a few deep breaths before sitting down. She then gave her wings a ruffle, resting her hooves on her desk before she opened her eyes once more. When she did, a change overcame her. Gone was the anger, the frustration. There was only exhaustion and sadness in those big purple eyes of hers.

“Atticus, Rarity, please,” she said with a bit of desperation. “I can understand not liking another pony, but this has gotten out of control! If I hadn’t been there, the guards would have taken the both of you to jail!”

The tip of her horn lost its magical spark, allowing the two to move their mouths again. They did so, rolling their jaws as they looked at each other out of the corner of their eyes.

“I like to think myself a kind and generous mare, Twilight,” Rarity said as calmly as she could. “I’d like to think that I am also a gentle soul that only wishes for the best for others, but there’s only so much even I can take!This… this beast is an abomination to fashion, to stallions, and no doubt to his fellow humans. He is an affront to everything good and sacred in this world!”

“Tell me what you really think, sweetheart,” Atticus said, leaning back into his chair with his arms crossed.

Rarity looked away from him with a “humph!”, pointing her nose to the ceiling. “I’m terribly sorry for the scene that I caused today, but I cannot bare to even see this horrid creature sitting right next to me! He’s simply too… too… he’s just too much of himself!”

“Twi, I wasn’t even doing anything this time,” Atticus said, leaning forward in his chair. “All I was doing was sitting there with Pinkie and she just comes strutting over like she has a broom up her butt!”

“Excuse me if I care more about the Cake’s patio furniture than you do, you brute,” Rarity said, staring daggers at him. “Really, what in Equestria possessed you to act in such a way?”

“Nobody had a problem with it until you showed up,” Atticus said, throwing a hand up in frustration. “There must have been twenty other ponies standing around! Mr. Cake was outside too and he didn’t say a single fucking thing to me about it. If he did, I’d have taken by feet off the fucking chair.”

Rarity’s frown deepened. “Language.”

Atticus gave her the finger. “Go sit on a cactus.”

Rarity opened her mouth, only for Twilight to let out a groan. The princess now had her head in her hooves, her ears pinned against the sides of her skull. She was once again taking deep breaths, her shoulders slumped and her wings hanging loosely against her sides.

“…Did you two know before I dragged both of your sorry butts over here I saw Pinkie crying?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

That got both Rarity and Atticus’s attention. The looked at Twilight, who loudly sighed.

“This isn’t the first time either. Every time she sees the two of you—her friends—acting like you hate each other, it breaks her heart.” Twilight continued, looking down at her desk. “And she’s not the only one. It’s hard on a lot of ponies around town, many of whom both of you are friends with. Whenever they see you fighting they think they need to pick sides.”

She looked up at both of them, and both of them found it harder to keep her gaze. “It’s not fair for anypony, and however you two justify your ridiculous behavior, this is hurting your friends.”

Shaking her head, Twilight rose from her seat. Walking around her desk she stood in front of both of them.

“I know I’ve told you two to try to solve your differences before, but this is escalated to such a degree that I’m insisting you do it.”

Both Rarity and Atticus looked away from the alicorn. Their angry expressions had evaporated. Neither looked outright guilty, but they both looked thoughtfully somber as Twilight’s words washed over them.

“It doesn’t matter to me how the two of you solve this problem. If you’d like some help you know that any of the girls would love to help you, myself included,” Twilight said, placing a hoof on Atticus’s leg. “I’ll leave the room for a minute or two to let you both discuss it, okay?”

Both Rarity and Atticus said nothing, simply nodding.

“And you’re both going to be adults and not attack the other like a couple of crazy ponies, right?” Twilight asked.

Again the two said nothing, only nodding at the princess.

Twilight sighed. “Good. I’m gonna go to the kitchen and get some ice cream for this headache…”

With that, Twilight made her way to the door and left the two alone.

“…Atticus, I believe that we may have taken it too far,” Rarity said.

A part of Atticus wanted to lay all of the blame on her. He could see how he’d go about the argument, what he’d say and what objects he could pick up in the room to either protect himself with or break over Rarity’s head. Instead of picking another fight, however, he just slumped in his chair.

“…Yeah, I think we did,” he said, looking down at the floor and covering his face with a hand. “I mean, if you were on fire I wouldn’t piss on you, but you’re not wrong.” He closed his eyes, imagining Pinkie crying. Just the thought of it made his stomach tighten.“We made Pinkie cry. Pinkie. Making that mare even a little bit sad should be punishable by death.”

Slowly, Rarity turned her head to look at him. There was a bit of thoughtful calculation in those blue eyes of hers, along with regret. Brow furrowing, she took a deep breath.

“Atticus, despite our obvious and numerous differences—hating each other to our very cores not included—I find you to be a very, um, interesting beas—” Rarity coughed into her hoof. “Pardon me. I meant that I find you to be a very interesting person.”

The mare nodded slowly, as if she were trying to convince herself.

“Yes, a person. A person with quirks and interests. Not interests that I or any civilized… no, what I mean to say is that you are a very… interesting fellow,” With each word Atticus could hear her losing steam. Despite this, she continued to press on. “Not a creature, not a beast. No, you are neither of those things.”

Atticus couldn’t help himself any longer. Snorting, he picked his head up and looked over at the mare. She flinched when his gaze was upon her, her nose scrunching up, but she held strong, even looking him in the eye.

“As much as I enjoy sitting here listening to you bashing me, you mind getting to your point?” he asked.

Rarity took another deep breath, though this one was considerably more shaky.

“Atticus, I may despise you with a considerable amount of my person, and the very sight of you may make my stomach churn, but it really does not sit well with me that our… differences have had such negative effects,” she said, sitting up in her chair. “As an upstanding, active member of this community, and for the sake of my friends, something needs to be done about this.”

Atticus nodded. “Alright, and how do you suggest we do that?”

Rarity scooched forward in her chair, not taking her eyes off him. “I believe that the two of us must have sex.”

As soon as the she finished her sentence the room immediately went silent. Atticus just sat there dumbly, his mind trying to process just what he had heard. He, of course, failed completely.

“What?” he asked, blinking. “I… just… what?”

“Hm? I see that you’re confused.Not that I’d expect anything less from you,” Rarity said before wincing. “Oh my goodness, ignore that, it was terribly rude. Now, just let me explain.”

“It better be a good fucking explanation,” Atticus said, leaning away from the obviously crazy mare.

“Yes, well, your barbarism, crudeness, and general lack of thoughtfulness aside—”

“Did anyone ever tell you that your voice sounds like dragging nails across a fucking chalkboard? Because it does.”

“And the sight of your face brings madness and ruin to whoever is unfortunate enough to look upon it, but that is beside the point. The point is that we must convert this pointless and harmful aggression into sexual enthusiasm so that we can not only vent our anger but derive some enjoyment out of one another’s company.”

A million questions ran through Atticus’s mind. Had this crazy horse just lost her mind? Was this even Rarity and not some sort of Changeling or magical anomaly? Was he actually asleep and in the middle of some weird fever dream?

“…You want us to settle our differences through fucking?” he asked after a pause.

“Yes. That’s exactly what I want,” Rarity said.

Atticus nodded. “Okay… So, did I hit you too hard with that tennis racket or did you take something before Twilight dragged the two of us in here?”

“I can assure you that you hit like a rather frail colt and I am completely sober,” Rarity said, her expression souring slightly. “Though, if I must be honest, a glass or two of wine wouldn’t be out of order. Perhaps when I get home...”

She shook her head, giving him her best smile.

“Usually I’d never suggest such a thing, but this is a desperate circumstance, and desperate circumstances require desperate action, and I very much believe that if our clashes escalate any further the two of us will have a lot more than property damage and bodily injury to worry about.”

Without warning, she hopped out of her seat and began to slowly make her way to the door. Atticus watched her go, still not believing what he was hearing.

“You hate my guts but you’re willing to have sex with me?” he blurted out. “What kind of ass-backwards logic is that?”

Rarity stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. Her expression was both somber and resolute, as if she were a soldier going off to war.

“I shall give you the rest of the day to think about my proposal. The door to my boutique will be locked for the entire evening if you are willing to... entertain me.”

She reached for the door.

“We are not lovers, as I'm sure you know. As far as I'm concerned, this is a solution to our problems. Think of it as nothing more than therapy, my dear.”

With that, Rarity opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. Atticus sat in his slightly too small chair, his arms hanging limply at his sides and his mouth agape.

“…What?”