I mean, she could have done worse.
Groaning, Octavia turned over in the bed.
She immediately fell and hit the floor with an adrenaline-spiking thump.
The first thoughts that went through her head were all about pain: the fresh impact against hard wood; the assuredly hangover-induced pounding in her head; the far more pleasant soreness of her body that implied she hadn't spent the night alone; and the ephemeral ache in her heart that was so unbearably strong the evening before yet was currently far down the list compared to having just fallen to the floor from about hip-height.
The second thing to pierce Octavia's foggy brain was to wonder why she was sleeping in a hammock to begin with.
This was partially answered when the nearby door opened and the Great and Powerful Trixie stuck her head through. "Oh, you're awake." She glanced at the hammock, then at Octavia. "You really should be more careful," she scolded.
From the floor, Octavia muttered angrily but indistinctly.
Trixie took it in stride. "Yes yes, you're very grumpy. Once you find your hooves, come outside. Trixie has prepared breakfast and has pulled out her good tea. She is aware you are very particular about it." Then she was kind enough to shut the door quietly and not make Octavia's headache worse.
It was enough to placate the earth pony. At least until she had some tea and food in her system.
Rising up unsteadily, Octavia's blurry vision focused enough to confirm that she was indeed in Trixie's wagon. Cluttered, chaotic, and with a distinct scent that made clear what the two of them had done last night no matter how much the open windows were trying to air it out.
And while the details of the evening were still fuzzy past arriving at Berry Punch's bar, Octavia's memory was much clearer about the evening before that. Her fight with Vinyl was the sort of thing that stuck with a pony.
In truth, they hadn't really fought about anything specific - the accusations thrown back and forth had individual incidents cited but those hadn't been the cause. It had been about anger and frustration, not Vinyl's bad habit for not cleaning the sink after trimming her hooves, nor about Octavia's penchant to have beans for breakfast.
Today's breakfast, speaking of, was a pot of oatmeal cooked over a fire with a side of dried apricots. And tea, of course. Trixie hadn't been joking about the quality, either - at a sniff it was a robust darjeeling. Octavia's prepared mug was already full, with a strip of willow bark sticking out of it: a classic herbal remedy for aches and pains.
Without a word, she sat down on a log beside Trixie. Breakfast was served up in quick order, with both milk (declined) and a bit of lemon (accepted) offered for the tea. Both sat and ate in silence, letting the gentle warmth of the campfire's embers and the just-risen sun help them become reasonable equine beings.
The situation was admittedly made a bit surreal by their location, however: Trixie's wagon was parked in the middle of the central quad of the School of Friendship and the cafeteria was no more than three minutes' trot away from her campfire. But this was not the time to question such things. (Instead, Octavia was grateful that school was not currently in session and her presence would not be observed.)
It was only once the oatmeal was finished (and the willow bark had reigned in the worst of Octavia's hangover) that Trixie spoke. "So," she asked, "Are you regretting it yet?"
Octavia nearly dropped her tea. Even though she avoided that, she couldn't find any words to respond with - she just sat there with her jaw slightly open and her brow furrowed.
"Not that Trixie is doubting her quality," the magician added, "But she is not unaware of your relationship status and that she is not your unicorn of preference."
That made Octavia wince and her ears go flat. "Former relationship status, I suppose." Saying just that much made her mouth feel sour.
To her credit, Trixie's look of pity seemed earnest. She leaned over and patted Octavia's thigh - something that momentarily seemed unacceptably familiar before Octavia reminded herself of what had happened the night before. "Trixie is sorry to hear that. She is okay with being the rebound."
Octavia sputtered indignantly. "You are not–!" She pinched her lips shut, forcing herself to get her emotions under control. It took her a half-minute and another swig of tea to do so. "You are not 'the rebound'. Vinyl and I simply had a fight, and as a result I seemingly indulged too much at Berry Punch's."
A sly smile crept onto Trixie's face.
"Indulged in too much drink," Octavia corrected.
Trixie kept that smile.
Forging ahead, Octavia's words sped up.. "Obviously, we… had relations as a result. I'm certain you were wonderful and thank you for the tea but I must go." She tried to rise - only for Trixie to click her tongue.
Octavia turned to see Trixie holding up a pink bowtie in her magic. "Trixie would be insulted about how fast you're trying to leave, but she's had enough ponies slip away before she wakes up that it no longer bothers her."
Already halfway to grabbing her tie back, Octavia stopped. "That is a remarkably sad statement and something that seems unworthy of you."
With surprising care, Trixie floated the tie the rest of the way to Octavia and re-tied it around her neck. "Being Great and Powerful does not always translate into good life choices," admitted the unicorn. "Trixie does, however, appreciate your implication of her booty-quality."
Octavia's cheeks instantly went bright red.
Looking away from the earth pony, Trixie refilled Octavia's mug with more tea. "If you enjoyed Trixie's company last night, maybe you would enjoy it now, too?" There was just a hint of hopefulness in her voice.
So Octavia sat down again. "Just to be clear, I am not currently in the market for a relationship," she noted as she took the fresh tea.
"Trixie is a free spirit and has no desire for commitment at this time either." Trixie poured herself a mug as well. "But she is also an ear that can listen and has no room to judge."
One of Octavia's eyebrows spiked. "And I presume you are suddenly an expert on romance."
Trixie shrugged. "One does not act as counselor to an entire school of teenagers without learning a few things about relationship problems."
"I was one of the candidates for Vice-Headmare," Octavia pointed out. "Starlight only hired you for the position a month ago."
"Teenagers," Trixie repeated. "The average lifespan of their relationships is measured in hours. Trixie recently dealt with a student who had gained and lost nine romantic partners in the same week."
The idea still didn't sit right with Octavia as she stared into her mug. And once more, Trixie put her hoof on the other mare's thigh. "And even if Trixie weren't, she'll still listen. You seem like you need to let it out."
Octavia deflated with a sigh. "I suppose I do. Celestia knows I can't talk to anypony else about this. All the others I could think of are either too close to vent at without placing them in an awkward spot, or are too far away for me to feel comfortable about sharing something so personal with."
"Trixie barely knows either of you and is perfectly fine with being awkward."
Her reply was an amused snort. "Yes. And I suppose that nothing I could say now would be oversharing, given what we did last night."
Trixie rolled her eyes. "Yes yes, we had sex. You were good, Trixie was better, build a bridge and get over it. You really need to loosen up." She paused. "But not like that."
Octavia suppressed the natural urge to punch Trixie in the face.
That withering glare was not lost on the unicorn, however. Sighing, Trixie pulled off her magician's hat and set it aside. "Trixie apologizes. It's hard to– when you're so used to being a showmare, being over the top comes naturally. Sometimes being bold and loud overcomes your common sense."
"...Apology accepted," Octavia hesitantly allowed. "I've lived with Vinyl for years, even before we started dating. I should be used to a certain amount of crude bravado."
A tiny bit of a devil's grin crept onto Trixie's face again. "Yes, you do have a type."
To which Octavia squinted and frowned. "Beg your pardon?"
"You have a type," Trixie repeated. "There's no shame in it. Most ponies do. Starlight has a thing for nerds, and trust Trixie - being her wingmare while they're completely oblivious to her advances is both frustrating and hilarious."
"I don't see how that's even slightly relevant," Octavia grumbled in return.
Trixie thought for a moment - highly unusually - before speaking. "Let's start from the beginning, and then Trixie's statement will make sense." She shifted to a cross-legged sitting position, her back straight and pantomiming holding a notepad in her hooves. "Now that Trixie has provided empathy cocoa– er, empathy tea, perhaps you would like to tell Trixie a bit about the problems you're having."
After taking a sip of the tea, Octavia began. "Well, Vinyl and I had a fight."
Only to be immediately interrupted by Trixie. "About what?"
That, however, was not the easiest question to answer. Octavia pursed her lips. "Well, it was about the storage organization of sheet music - she said it should be alphabetical, even though it obviously should be ordered primarily by date." She paused and sighed. "But that's not what it was really about. We fight a lot," Octavia clarified. "Frequently about things that, once the heat of the moment has passed, were quite silly to care about so much."
"Mmhmm." Trixie nodded slightly. "Neither of you seems to be hot-headed normally," she observed.
"Outside of each other in these cases… no, not particularly." Octavia frowned as she thought about that. "I certainly can't say I've never been angry otherwise, but–"
"But you're only equine and everypony gets mad sometimes," Trixie quickly added. "That's just natural." She paused. "Sorry, Trixie has to occasionally remind students that negative feelings are sometimes good."
Octavia couldn't help a soft smile. "You actually are good at your job, aren't you."
Which was replied to with a surprisingly demure blush. But Trixie quickly got the conversation back on track. "So neither of you is an angry pony by your nature, and only fight with each other. And you do so about things you admit aren't worth having fights over."
It wasn't news to Octavia, but having it stated so bluntly still put a touch of shame to her heart. "Yes, that would be accurate."
"Why?"
The question was obvious. Why did they fight? But as unsatisfying as the answer was, Octavia knew what she had to say. "For the life of me, I have no idea."
And Trixie nodded firmly. "Exactly."
Caught in utter confusion, Octavia could only blink owlishly.
The smarmy grin on Trixie's face instantly grated on Octavia's nerves. "You don't know why you fight, but you do. Trixie expects that if she were to ask Vinyl, the answer would be the same but with a less cute accent."
"Cute acc–"
Trixie held up a hoof to cut off the comment. "Next question. Trixie is not the first pony to have been your rebound. Describe the others who have."
It took several moments and speaking slowly for Octavia to go over the list. "Well, last time it was Bulk Biceps who is a wonderful darling but we are simply not compatible. Before that it was Bluenote–"
"Who?"
Octavia mentally bobbled for a moment, thrown off-track by the question. "He's a local saxophone player." She waited for Trixie to nod, then continued. "Let's see. Lightning Dust, when she was in town with the Washouts. A unicorn pyrotechnician named Fire Flare who was very nice but a bit too old for me. Not Sapphire Shores, I still have no idea how that rumor started. But I did go out on a very awkward date with Lyra Heartstrings when she was briefly on the rocks with Bon-Bon." She paused, thinking further back. "Before I moved in with Vinyl… Beauty Brass, who was the tuba player in one of my early quartets. There was… oh drat, what was his name?" Octavia tapped her temple, trying to dislodge the name. "Ah! Yes, Log Jam."
Trixie raised an eyebrow. "Lumberjack?"
"Only to pay the bills," Octavia gently corrected. "He was a guitarist in a garage band. Oh, and before him was a very nice mare named Minuette - we dated while she was completing her last year at Celestia's School and I was in my second-last at the Canterlot Musical Conservatory."
Thoughtfully, Trixie nodded. "And that's your dating history?"
The gray mare flinched. "Well. I did also go on a blind date during one of the fights between Vinyl and I. But I assure you, Hayseed Turnip Truck was not my choice of partner."
Trixie gave a nod of acknowledgement. "Yes, yes, of course. Trixie is well aware of the perils of having a friend set you up. You cannot be held responsible for that choice, just as Trixie cannot be held responsible for Quibble Pants." She shuddered a little.
Knowing the pain of an awkward date, Octavia reached across the space between them to give Trixie a sympathetic but brief hug.
Forging ahead, Trixie perked back up. "But never the less! You will have to excuse Trixie as she is going to make a few educated guesses about the ponies you named that she doesn't know." She leaned forward towards Octavia. "Every one of them could be described as 'energetic', Trixie bets. Maybe 'brash' or 'loud'? Hm?"
Her response was hesitation - then a slow nod.
As Trixie knew it would be. "She was originally going to say your type was hot unicorn mares, but your past encounters gives Trixie more context. She suspects that the common thread is that even when you aren't with Vinyl, you're still trying to date Vinyl."
"...and I'm choosing partners like her," Octavia realized, whisper-quiet.
"Because you love her," Trixie added smugly.
That drove Octavia to silence for quite some time. Trixie used the space to scoop herself another helping of oatmeal (and went heavy on the apricots.) Several spoonfuls later, Octavia finally came out of her thoughts. "I… suppose I do. Always have, even if I've never said it." She let out a self-depreciating snort. "I don't believe I ever stopped to even consider the thought, honestly. Perhaps that's a consequence of having lived together for so long before starting the relationship." Her eyes slid over to Trixie. "But I don't understand why that means we fight."
Trixie didn't answer immediately - she took her time swallowing first. Then, with calm assurance, she asked the critical question. "Does she love you?"
It was a simple question - and one that left Octavia reeling. "I… hope she does?"
"You don't think she does. Not really." Trixie set her half-empty bowl down and locked her eyes to Octavia's. "That's why you're fighting. Trixie has seen this before with the students. You love her even if you didn't think about it before and you're worried that she doesn't feel the same way. So - anger. Even if you don't realize why, you're still angry."
Appropriately, anger was the first response. "I am no lovesick teenager who lashes out randomly!"
But that was cut off by a raised hoof. "Growing older doesn't mean growing up." Trixie paused to let Octavia sputter indignantly. "You've been dating Vinyl for how long and never even considered if you were in love? Trixie doesn't think that screams maturity and wisdom."
On one hoof, Octavia's expression was one of glowering displeasure and annoyance. On the other? She also didn't have any objection to Trixie's words.
So the unicorn continued. "But that doesn't matter. As Trixie has said to many of her students, simply because you made a poor choice in the past does not mean you cannot change it for the future. There is another chance to have a real talk, and you need to take it." She leaned over and yet again put a hoof on Octavia's thigh. "You two have these fights, what, every few moons? Sooner or later, one of you is going to decide that reconciling afterwards isn't worth it. Have the talk before it's too late."
There was a long pause as thoughts pulled together to coherence. Years of history formed a picture that had always been there - but now there was a different perspective on it. And it made more sense this way. "You're right. I hate that you are, but you're right." Octavia straightened her back, steeling up like a good high class mare. "The situation is unsustainable and I must take the initiative. It may be uncomfortable but it's time to put my big girl shoes on." Then she sagged with a shuddering sigh. "What if Vinyl doesn't feel the same way? Or this isn't why we keep fighting?" Her voice - shrunken like her posture - was far more like that of Trixie's students than Octavia's usual self.
But that made Trixie's smile all the warmer. It was familiar territory for her. "She keeps coming back after these fights too. In Trixie's humble opinion, that suggests she feels the same. And if nothing else, that she cares enough to want to find a solution. Reaching out to her will show that you care, too."
Octavia mulled that over, rolling the thought around in her head. And the more she did, the more she smiled. Confidence and posture returned, bringing her back to where she had been before the momentary collapse. Her hoof set atop of Trixie's. "You make an excellent point." And she leaned across the gap to kiss the unicorn's cheek. "Thank you. I couldn't have asked for a better pony to get drunk and sleep with."
Laughing, Trixie stood up like a rocket and motioned dramatically with her spoon. "But of course! The Thoughtful and Sexy Trixie is honored to have aided you in multiple ways! But," she added with a wink, "Be warned that next time Trixie will charge."
"For the advice or the sex?" Octavia joked.
Trixie's expression went far too serious. "While Trixie is fairly certain you are not wearing a wire, she is required by law to clarify that she would only charge for providing advice and does not take bits for sexual favors."
That raised a number of questions.
Octavia did not want to know the answer to any of them.
Meanwhile, across town…
Vinyl Scratch awoke with a mixture of pleasure and pain. The night before came together relatively quickly in her mind: the fight with Octavia; storming into the club to do a surprise set; drinks; doing a second set; drinks; inserting herself into the partying crowd when Neon finally took the stage back; more drinks; then a smeared blur of colors and sensations. Some were good - Vinyl could tell she'd had a great night with somepony. Some were bad - cotton mouth and a pounding headache were the ones that still stuck with her.
But any party you can walk away from was a good one, and she'd managed to make it back to her own bed.
That, though, was part of the problem.
Turning over, Vinyl looked at the pony she was sharing the bed with - and had shared the night with previously.
A mare. Yellow coat like the inside of a pineapple. Blue mane, similar to the darker parts of Vinyl's own. A white cowpony hat sitting on the nightstand.
But that wasn't the part that made Vinyl's head throb harder. No, it was that - even at a glance - the mare was virtually identical to Octavia. Color-shifted, but otherwise almost 100% a duplicate of the mare Vinyl had fought with.
As she lay in bed looking at this mare, a simple thought managed to penetrate through the DJ's aching head:
Damn, I really do have a type, don't I?
Author's Note
I am incredibly frustrated with this month. Not this story - but the rest of what I've worked on. I'll talk more about it in the quarterly blog, but I started four different stories for May Pairings and they were all garbage. This was my emergency backup story. (Which perhaps says something about me as a writer that I have one.)
