Smoke

I’d gotten up excited. Weeks of paperwork, permits, signatures, hoofshakes and more were finally coming to an end—at last, I was due to close on the theater. It didn’t take long for my excitement to become the wrong kind entirely. My breakfast was only half eaten when Primavera came dashing into my kitchen unannounced. She was obviously panicking, her wavy green mane bouncing as she practically tap-danced beside the table, startling Strawberry Frosting as the poor maid tried to refill my juice.

“Trouble! Oh, big, big trouble, Done! Gangsters! Here! Downstairs! Oh, what do we do, what do we do?” Primavera was an excellent chef and a clever businesspony, but brave she was not. The Trotties showed up periodically, making reports on how their businesses were going and usually asking for more investment money to fix their mistakes. Once in a while, the promising ones even got some. In any case, I wasn’t expecting anypony, much less so early, and they had no business with Primavera. If they disrupted her business while her staff was preparing for their lunch crowd…

“They’re not on your side of the building, are they?” Priorities.

It was Day Planner’s voice that answered. “No, sir. One of the kitchen staff saw them through the picture window as she came in, told her, and she panicked. I was going to tell you, but she pushed me aside when I unlocked the door to come up.” Primavera had been nodding and pointing to Day as Day spoke, only to suddenly look even more panicked as Day Planner reminded her what she’d done. It was going to be one of those visits.

“Day, get one of the dancers, a pegasus, to fly out and bring back Bruises in case this gets unpleasant. Assuming any are in yet. Primavera, you can stay up here if you’ll feel safer.” Primavera nodded and let out a breath I doubt she’d known she was holding. There was no value in putting her through walking past the Trotties a second time; she was too spooked to run a kitchen. I was surprised she’d gotten up here in the first place.

“That’s why I wasn’t right on her tail, sir. Pirouette was in the office, telling me which dancers needed their reviews when this nonsense started. I sent her down the fire escape and looked down to check on Jade. She’s stalling them at the bar. The dancers aren’t in yet; it’s too early for warm up.”

I’d have preferred a pegasus, but it’d do. Pirouette was an athletic mare, and I’d moved Bruises into the closest apartment building I could find. “Good job, Day. Primavera, relax; I’ll handle it. And don’t panic next time. I thought I’d gotten them sorted enough to come in the back, and to schedule. I’ll just remind them.”

Primavera nodded, and I gave her withers a reassuring pat as I abandoned my breakfast. “Somepony finish that; it won’t be good by the time I’m back.” It wouldn’t be Day; my secretary was right on my tail as I headed down the stairs.

“I’m going to have to have another meeting with Desert Rose; her ponies can’t just show up whenever they want. That’s not how business works.” I stepped into the office and held the door for Day. Her eyes were rolling.

“What do you expect from ponies whose idea of a good time is shaking somepony down for their last bit, Mr. Deal? Ponies don’t change.” Suddenly, her grin got a little wicked. “Unless you change them, of course.”

I opened the door down to the show floor and paused to look back at Day as she returned to her desk. “Tempting, Day, but the last thing I need is Rose figuring out what my trump card is. I’ve already given her too much.” I still couldn’t think of the raid on Born Leader’s place without grimacing about having to use the smoke in front of ponies. She knew it’d been necessary, and why keeping secrets was too.

Day nodded and I headed down, planning just what I’d say to the “businessponies” who were showing up unannounced for another handout. As I reached the floor and turned, those plans vanished. These weren’t the usual pack of ponies trying to go straight; these were toughs, and they were going out of their way to make it obvious. One was chatting up Jade, bringing to mind the drunk whose removal had started this whole mess with the Trotties. I gritted my teeth and hoped Bruises turned up soon, but I couldn’t afford to look afraid while I waited. I took a step forward, and the apparent leader noticed me and slid from the barstool to head my direction. His goons flanked him on either side, each face marred with scars. The leader of the pack was a cut above, though: dark red coat, nicked ears, scars, and a bleached mane under a beat up bowler all screamed that he wasn’t to be messed with. Neither was I, though, if Rose wanted the money to flow, and the little string of shops I’d financed were doing better each month, even without the theater. Outwardly calm, I stepped forward and hoped that Bruises would show up in time to give me more than financial bargaining power. As my perspective changed, I caught a flash of bright orange behind the thugs. It caught a flash of me, too, and waved. Peach Pit! Her mane was nearly to her hooves now, even longer than I’d left it, and she wore a yellow dress that closed around her hind legs, hiding everything else I’d given her.

No sooner had I noticed her than the stallion to the leader’s left scowled and shoved her. Peach glared as she was forced back a step. “Hey! I’m part of this group too!”

“You’re ‘ere coz yer Whittle’s ‘widdle’ sister, an’ nuffin’ else, Pity. Don’t go puttin’ on airs.” The stallion who’d shoved her grinned at what he apparently took for wit while his counterpart on the leader’s other side rolled his eyes. Peach Pit glared angrily, but bit her tongue. I wondered how much of that abuse the poor thing had to take among her so-called “mates.”

The leader acted as if he and I were the only ones in the room, confident to the point of boredom. “Oy. You Deal?”

“That’s me. I’m sure you know what happened the last time one of your boys hassled Jade. I really don’t care for punks shoving mares in here, either. Call it a house rule.” There was a fine line between acting unintimidated and showing off for Peach Pit. To be honest, I didn’t know which side of the line I was coming down on.

Peach grinned at the pony who’d shoved her, gloating a bit, but he ignored her, trotting right up to get in my face.

The leader frowned slightly and kept his eyes on me as he addressed his out-of-line backup. “Home Run.”

Home Run acted like he didn’t hear, too busy trying to stare me down. “An’ just wotd’ya plan ta do ‘bout it, mate?”

The leader repeated himself, an edge of irritation in his tone. “Home Run.”

I didn’t give up an inch. From where I stood, I could see Pirouette climbing down off Bruises’ back. Pirouette gestured to Bruises to be quiet as she gently pushed open the glass door. I shrugged. “Do about it? Show you the door. I’m not sure I can keep investing in the future of ponies with no manners. Business relationships are built on trust and mutual respect, after all.”

Home Run bristled at being taken lightly. I could see Jade behind the bar, worry written all over her face, and Peach wincing as I added fuel to the fire.

Snarling, Home Run spat at my hooves. “’Ere’s yer respect, mate! Wot now?”

“Eight ball, corner pocket.”

The obnoxious stallion glowed dark blue suddenly as Bruises’ horn lit him up from where she stood just inside the door. Home Run had just enough time for a startled, “Wha?” before hurtling head first through the door behind Jade to bounce off the wall, and land with a dull thud. It’d be a bit before he woke, and with Bruises around, it wouldn’t matter much when he did. Pirouette’s wince might’ve been a little funny under better circumstances.

Peach watched the pony who’d been hassling her sail overhead, wide-eyed while the other goon readied for a fight, tossing his head to get his unruly mane out of his eyes. The one in charge, though, just sat on his haunches and clapped slowly. “Bloody nice show that. I’d ‘erd ya ‘ad some spine to ya. Nice to see it’s true. Bloody sick of knockin’ over ol’ ladies ‘n’ like.”

I kept an even expression, but was sorely tempted to have Bruises toss this lout across the room, too. “If you’re so sick of it, maybe try not doing that. I’m sure the old ladies would appreciate it quite a bit.”

The leader of the group cracked a smile while his other wingman settled down, apparently realizing I didn’t actually want a fight. “S’why I’m ‘ere, mate. I’m one’a th’ lot wot wants to go straight. But ya get swiped as a foal ‘n’ raised on Mane’attan’s mean streets, well. It don’t exactly suit ya to it, do it?”

I nodded. I didn’t have to like a pony to deal with them. Sometimes not liking one actually made it easier; I didn’t have to feel bad if I couldn’t help. If this pony was serious about wanting to go straight, then scars and nicked ears or not, there was common ground. “I’d imagine not. But if you’re here about going straight, there’s a right way and a wrong way. Schedule a meeting, pitch your business. We’ll talk.”

Scars shook his head, but kept the even tone. “Done the talkin’, I ‘ave. With Whittle ‘n’ Rose. Plan’s already made, mate. But yer draggin yer ‘ooves, an’ ‘at’s keepin’ me from movin’ mine. I’m ‘ere, Mr. Done Deal, ‘coz all I know’s fightin’. Only clean use fer ‘at’s playin’ at cop or th’ like. Ain’t much call for ‘at while you ain’t got the theater, though, mate. Whittle got tired of ‘earin’ me, sent me your way. Told me, ‘make an impression.’ Am I making an impression, mate?” Unlike the rest of the conversation, the question dripped with malice. I sighed. So much for common ground. Bruises’ eyes had narrowed, Pirouette looked angry, and Peach simply looked confused

“You most certainly are, Mister…?”

“Toss. ‘At’s wot they call me.”

“Mister Toss. The problem is that you’re making a poor one. These things take time. I’ve got good news for you, and bad news.” Toss frowned, and I tensed up, but kept an outward calm. “The good news is that I’ve got the funding. Rose ought to know that; I sent word back the last time one of you showed up—with an appointment, I might add. She should also know that today’s the big day. That was part of the message. So I’m wondering why you’re actually here. I’ve got some ideas, but I’d rather hear it from you. Care to explain? And spare me the cop bit; that’s the bad news. This city’s got enough corrupt guards already.”

Toss glared, and the punk on his right smirked. I heard Bruises snort angrily, and Pirouette said something in a worried tone, but I couldn’t afford to pay attention. I’d gone a step too far, and Toss was pissed.

“Oy, Done. Wot ‘appened to respect, eh? You just another rich ass’ole, thinks ‘e can mouth off ‘n’ get away with it?” I couldn’t help tensing up. Bruises was right there, but the mare was all power, no speed. If this went wrong, I’d at least get hit in the face. Toss didn’t look interested in apologies, though. Tense or not, I was all in.

“Mutual respect, Toss. You showed up unannounced, interrupted my breakfast, scared one of my girls, let one of your boys spit on my nice, clean floor. I showed enough respect to come down here and talk. When do I get some res—”

I was cut off when Toss’ hat shifted, revealing a bit of horn—and a flash of metal. Before I could even think to react, Peach Pit screamed “Look out!” and pounced on Toss whose knife barely flew wide, landing somewhere behind me. Pirouette’s scream came only a second later. I hate to admit it, but I blanked entirely. When Toss bucked Peach in the gut, though, sending her sprawling between him and his goon, I snapped out of it in a hurry.

“Jump shot! Bruises, jump shot, now!”

Just before Peach took another kick, Toss glowed, was lifted nearly to the ceiling, and slammed down on his tagalong thug. I ignored them both, rushing to Peach’s side as Jade, Bruises, and Pirouette crossed the floor to join me. I propped Peach Pit up as she coughed and gasped for air. “Jade, a glass of water!” Jade immediately spun to rush back for water, and I brushed Peach’s long mane away from her eyes. “Are you alright, Peach? I can get you to a doctor if you need it.”

Peach coughed again and finally caught her breath before smiling up at me. “I’m good. He just knocked the wind out of me. Glad he didn’t kick farther back, though! You’re okay, right?”

Knowing that Peach was alright was the last thing I needed for the tension to pour out of me, and my legs just gave out. Pirouette and Peach each squawked and moved to hold me up. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m fine, ladies, I’m fine. The knife missed me by a mile.” A lie if I’d ever told one; even with Peach’s distraction, I was sure I’d felt the breeze. “Bruises, would you—oh. Good job!” Bruises’ furious expression shifted instantly to a proud smile from where she loomed over Toss and his crony at the bar. Their groans and weakly muttered profanity were music to my ears. “Knock his hat off. If you see his horn glow, even a little, knock that off, too.” Bruises kicked Toss’ hat far more viciously than it deserved, and left her massive hoof hovering over Trot’s head. We all ignored his cursing.

Jade arrived with Peach’s water, and I handed it to Pirouette. When she realized I was alright, she’d begun crowding to check on Peach Pit anyway. “Would you take care of her for a minute, Pirouette? Introductions will have to wait. I asked Mister Toss a question, and right now, I think I need that answer more than ever.” I turned to address the pile of punks a couple of feet away, and Pirouette stepped right in.

Peach objected as I walked away. “I’m fine, honest, Mr. Deal! I don’t—mmph?”

“Now you just hush, sweetie. That was a nasty kick, and even if you think you’re fine…” I smirked as Piroutte began her mother hen routine. There was no pony who could stop her if she thought fussing was in order. And frankly, after the kick Peach had taken, I thought it was in order.

“Alright, Toss. Let’s try this again. Why are you here? And now that I’ve had a knife thrown at me—oh, hey, Jade, go see if you can find that for me—now that I’ve had a knife thrown at me, and a pretty mare shoved and and kicked in my club, you should probably know that I’m finished playing nice, and Bruises’ hooves are extremely heavy.” Jade trotted off to hunt for the knife, and I pulled over a stool to sit next to Bruises and tower over the trouble on the floor. “And I hope your answer doesn’t make things any worse.”

“Y’think Rose’ll jus’ letcha get away wi’vis? Y’think you won’t be dead tomorrow?” Toss was still defiant, but his eyes were on Bruises’ hoof, not me. His unwilling cushion glared up angrily, but kept his mouth shut. I didn’t want to be on Rose’s bad side, but I’d put a lot of money into her outfit, and they were finally starting to make it on their own. I was confident she had the sense not to jeopardize things this way—and even more confident that if anypony over there had actually called for causing me trouble, that Peach wouldn’t have waited for Toss to attack to tell me.

“Bruises? His… no. It doesn’t need to be like that.” Born Leader was one thing. If I had to do it again, I’d do it, but there was no point then. I turned to Peach and Pirouette who shared similarly relieved expressions. “Peach. Do you know anything? Why did Rose send these clowns?”

Peach Pit finally managed to push Pirouette and the glass of water aside and stood up. “I don’t think she did. Whittle was saying she wanted to make sure we didn’t get cut out of any deals, and Rose just said you didn’t have the… uh, that you’d never do that.” Peach’s muzzle scrunched up as she looked off to the side. Nice, Rose. “I think Whittle decided on her own, and sent these jerks. Rose told me to tag along so somepony calmer would be here when she found out. I had to fly to catch up!”

“And Rose didn’t just tell you to send them back?” Toss opened his mouth to say something, only to have Bruises hold it shut magically.

Peach shook her head. “Would’ve made Whittle look bad, Mr. Deal. She likes Whittle.” Peach glared at the ponies on the floor. “Besides, they wouldn’t listen to me no matter what I said.” Her dejected tone made me wish I could just pull her out of the gang, but she was all I had on the inside, and smoking any other Trottie to advocate for me would raise questions.

“Thanks, Peach. You just saved Rose and Whittle—and me, for that matter—a huge headache.” Peach Pit nodded, smiling again. I frowned down at the thugs. “You two are lucky. Since Whittle was stupid on her own, and you just went and made things worse, I don’t want to blow things out of proportion with Rose. But you get to explain to her why you two are bruised up, and why Home Run needs a doctor. I don’t think I need to tell you that the city guard will take my side if you claim we savagely beat you for nothing. Now go on. Get out of my club, and take your friend with you. Let ‘em up, Bruises. And if you see even a hint of a glow from Toss’ horn, I still want you to break it. He doesn’t get another chance.”

Toss and his flunky glared furiously as they got to their hooves, but neither seemed willing to say a word anymore. Bruises was watching them like a hawk, so while they carried Home Run out the front door on their backs, I turned to check on Peach Pit and Pirouette. Peach had sat down, and both were struggling to get dirty hoofprints off of her dress. If that was the worst damage to come from the kick she’d received, then the day was still salvageable. Peach’s expression said she might not agree, but I knew how to fix that. “Pirouette, are any of the dancers about Peach’s size? If so, let’s lend her a costume dress and take her out to find something nice. Can’t have the Trotties’ representative look dingy with a multi-million bit real estate deal on the line, now can we?”

Peach’s eyes bulged out of her head. I’d thought Pirouette would object, but as soon as she saw the look on Peach’s face, she gave me one of her “You did good,” smiles and nodded. I couldn’t help it; earning one of those always made me smile back.

“I-I get to go with you?” Peach had forgotten all about the kick and stared at me as if I’d promised her the world. At the very least, I’d made her day.

“Whittle wanted somepony there, so let’s give her somepony there. Hardly your fault she chose a pack of idiots, but now you’re the only Trottie around, and I’m not hiking to that slum to ask for another. Especially if Rose is so sure I don’t have the… guts… to try anything.”

Peach’s wings popped open cheerfully, but as soon as I’d said “Trottie,” Pirouette was looking at her and frowning. It didn’t take long for Peach to notice Pirouette’s disapproving look and panic.

“It’s not like that, miss… uh, I’m sorry, I know Mr. Deal just said it, but there’s a lot going on! Look, I’m not like that! The whole reason I love Mr. Deal is because he’s gonna make the city so much better! No more gangs, no more run down wrecks of buildings!”

Pirouette’s disapproving look shifted to me, with an eyebrow raised for good measure. It stayed there as she replied to Peach. “We’ll sort that out in a bit. Come with me; we’ll find you something nice that’s not too ‘showmare.’ I know we’ve got something.” Pirouette trotted away with Peach in tow. Peach looked back at me for guidance, but I just shrugged. I was the one Pirouette would let have it, not her. With Jade on stage looking for Toss’ knife, and Pirouette and Peach backstage, the floor was nearly empty again, but one last pony deserved some praise.

I never thought I’d have to thank Bruises for insisting I come up with “code words,” but she hadn’t let up. She’d gotten the idea from one of Exposé’s articles, and had demanded we spend hours making them up and practicing. The only choice I’d had was using terms from pool. I sighed and beckoned her over. Maybe I didn’t have to thank her for the code words. Maybe I could avoid that part. “Good work, Bruises. If you hadn’t been here, it wouldn’t have mattered if Peach jumped in or not. You saved everypony’s plot today. Even theirs.” I nodded toward the door the thugs had walked out of. Corrupt guards or not, a triple murder downtown gets a response.

Bruises nodded effusively. “Good work to you too, boss! You remembered! I knew just what you wanted, and they never even saw it coming! So glad Exposé told me about ‘em!”

“Me too, Bruises.” I barely managed to say it.

Jade trotted back with the thrown knife clenched in her teeth—blade in her mouth. “’Oun’ i’, ‘ir!”

My heart nearly stopped. “Jade! Spit that out! Carefully!” Jade did as she was told, and the knife clattered to the floor. It had become a very long day already, and I hadn’t even left yet.

* * * * *

Peach Pit had fairly danced her way between the racks and display cases of the nicest department store between The Tall Tail and Mrs. Orange’s lawyers’ office. Before I could even suggest one, Pirouette had steered the conversation, and the three of us, to Milk’s. The owner was pale white from the tip of her nose to the end of her tail, with a white hat cutie mark that was easily missed. “Milk” was just a nickname, but when she’d opened Milk’s Silks as a ladies’ apparel shop, she ran with it, dropping the word “silks” as her business grew. Cheap it was not, but as Pirouette had (very pointedly) told Peach, I could swing it for a special occasion.

Peach finally had several options picked out and slipped into a dressing room, with Pirouette smiling and waving as if she were actually going someplace. The instant the door shut, though, Pirouette’s smiles were gone, and she wheeled angrily, pressing her muzzle against mine. “Alright, Done, what’s the big idea? She’s hardly more than a filly!”

I told Pirouette how Peach had been excited to meet me, how glad she was that things were better for the Trotties, how her half-sister hated her, how it’d been so bad that even though I’d killed her father, she still thought the world of me. Pirouette gasped when she realized that that meant Born Leader was Peach’s dad, and her expression turned sad and sympathetic—up until I mentioned the evening in the old theater’s dressing room.

With a hoof pressed to her forehead as if she were staving off the mother of all headaches, Pirouette laid it out. “Done Deal, that poor filly—taking advantage—oh, what am I going to do with you?”

Peach Pit had poked her head out unnoticed, and in a single flap of her long wings got between Pirouette and me. She almost looked fit for one of the Oranges’ parties in a cardinal red dress and amethyst necklace that matched her eyes, but her posture was more cat fight than catty. Even Pirouette was taken aback. “I can make my own decisions, thank you very much! Mr. Deal is wonderful, and I’m proud to be helping him!”

Pirouette just blinked, and I was torn between laughing and worrying about the scene Peach was creating in the store. The solution to all of it was to calm Peach down of course, so I reached out and gently set a hoof on her back. “Peach, Pirouette’s known me for years. She’s my oldest and best friend. You can relax, honest.” Peach’s ears drooped, either embarrassed or unhappy that I hadn’t taken her side. I gestured at the dress she was wearing. “Settled on this?”

Peach had been thrown off balance, and paused. “I… let me try another necklace.” To Pirouette, with her head slightly lowered, she mumbled an apology—and, “I am eighteen, now.” Without another word, she disappeared into the changing room again.

Calling the silence awkward would’ve been putting it mildly. At last, Pirouette said what we were both thinking: “Now?”

I facehoofed. “I… oh, go ahead.” There was no point making an excuse.

Pirouette trotted up to me calmly, removed my fedora, and whacked me on top of the head. “You made your bed, Done. I shouldn’t be surprised. You know what? I’m not even going to get angry. Because you are going to make that girl happy. Aren’t you?” It wasn’t actually a question.

“I absolutely intend to, Pirouette. But that’s going to take more than just me—the promise I made her was that she’d be part of the Tall Tail family. I need her over there, but I want her to get to know you, Bruises, Jade, Shimmer—you know, all of them. I can’t do that while she’s over there, and yanking her out would cause everypony problems, even her.” It was awkward being so serious with Pirouette for so long, and talking about Peach with her barely out of earshot wasn’t helping.

Pirouette was unmoved. “Then do the best you can, Done. You ca—no.” Pirouette blinked, and the corners of her mouth slowly crept upward. “I know just the thing. Remember how you said you owed me big after the party with the Oranges? Don’t make any plans for Sunday night, Done Deal. You’re booked.”

I raised a hoof and opened my mouth to ask just what she meant, but the dressing room door popped open and I bit my tongue. Peach stepped back out, still in the red dress and amethyst necklace, ears still drooped. “Mr. Deal… I’m sorry for yelling at your—wha?” Before Peach knew what was happening, Pirouette was behind her, shoving her toward me.

“That’s been sorted out, Peach. I don’t really like it, but I can’t undo it, so I’m going to make sure Done does a better job taking care of you from now on. You are not getting left alone for months again!” Pirouette left no room for argument from either of us as she gave Peach a final shove, squishing her muzzle against my neck. “And keep your Sunday night open. And stop calling him ‘Mr. Deal.’ You get to call him Done.”

I had no idea what Pirouette was up to, but “keep Peach happy” was a big step up, even if she was being pushy. Peach looked back and forth between us, obviously completely bewildered. I patted her head and smiled. “You heard the lady.”

Peach looked up at me, still utterly baffled at what changed while she was in the dressing room. But… I like calling you Mr. Deal. It’s like… you’re that important, and you’re spending time with me!”

Pirouette practically snorted with laughter. “No wonder he’s gotten such a big head lately! You stick with me, Peach, I’ll show you how to handle him.”

The idea of Peach pushing me around like Pirouette brought to mind images of me, forcibly married to the most adoring, most henpecking pegasus in existence. I couldn’t help but shudder. “Come on, ladies. Not much time left before the closing, and I still need to pay!”

I ignored Pirouette as she snarked, “You certainly will!”

Still confused, Peach paused as we headed to the cashier. “Don’t you mean ‘he does?’”

I kept walking and answered without looking back. “I’m sure she means exactly what she said.”

* * * * *

Pirouette had walked with Peach and me to the law offices of Gavel & Co., making sure to tell Peach Pit as many embarrassing stories about me as she could along the way. I suspect she was hoping to prove I was just another pony and take some of the shine off, but as much as Peach laughed at my past humiliations, her frequent nudges, winks, and (when she thought Pirouette wasn’t looking) pecks on the cheek said Pirouette was just endearing me to Peach. I could deal with that. She’d been cute, but nothing special when I met her months ago. With a long, silky mane, a classy red dress, and just the right jewelry, though, the imperfections in her face that stopped her at “cute” were attractive in their own right—little flaws that highlighted everything else that was right about her. If she wanted to steal kisses, I wasn’t going to complain. At least, not until we reached the lawyer’s office.

A block from the law offices in uptown Manehattan, I paused. It was a clean, orderly neighborhood, a world away from the part of town the theater was in, and for that matter, the part that Peach was from. “Okay, Peach. No more affectionate stuff. You don’t have to act like a street tough—not that you could pull it off in that dress—but if you’re too friendly with me, the lawyer’s going to wonder. The Trotties aren’t really known for playing nicely with anypony, and it’s going to be strange enough to them that you don’t have an accent.”

“Wot d’ya mean I got no accent, mate? Right propa’ Trottie am, ‘n’ who says, I ain’t?” Peach’s wings were spread proudly, as they ought to have been—the impression was flawless. “I’ve been practicing! I started before I met you. Moving in with the Trotties wasn’t easy, and I wanted to try to fit in. It… didn’t really go over well. They thought I was making fun of them.” Peach sighed. “Got smacked around a bit for that. I kept practicing when you asked me to keep an eye on things though! I thought it might be useful! I’m… not really an actress though, so maybe try to do the talking?”

I looked around with a wince at how openly Peach Pit was discussing things. Ponies rushed back and forth all around us, to and from place to place. Coincidence or not, the wrong pony hearing the wrong thing would mean trouble, and standing in front of a coffee shop like we were, I couldn’t just smoke problems away. “Shh! We don’t want anypony asking questions!”

Peach clapped a hoof over her mouth and her wings slumped. “Sorry. I’ll do as much of the talking as I can, and your accent was perfect. I just don’t want to risk giving anything away, and we don’t know these ponies. Got it?”

Peach nodded, and she folded her wings back. “Got it. Sorry, I’m not used to this! And… more ‘affectionate stuff’ later? Please?”

I chuckled and nodded. “I live on the top floor of the building you came to this morning. As long as I’m not working, you’re welcome.”

Peach’s huge smile was a bit of a reward even without whatever she had in mind for later. “Come on. There’s no more time, we need to get where we’re going.”

We walked the rest of the way in silence, Peach’s nervous and mine focused. It was the biggest deal of my life, and it was only an hour or so away from being final. After the usual pleasantries and introductions, the receptionist showed us in with a smile as professional as her suit jacket, neatly cropped brown mane, and wireframe glasses. Her desk was clear of any clutter, and the pictures along the hall to the conference room were all neatly framed, even, and utterly bland. In short, it was a lawyer’s office. So it came as something of a shock when she opened the door to let us in, and I heard a heated argument abruptly die. The only ponies in the room were Citrus, looking as beautiful as ever, but thoroughly annoyed, and a reedy, sixty-something stallion, hoof still mid-gesture over some paper that clearly wasn’t to his liking.

The receptionist nodded a silent greeting to Gavel and introduced Peach and me. “Mr. Gavel. Done Deal, and one Ms. Pit… the latter isn’t on the schedule, but represents the… party of concern.” I forced myself not to frown. So that was it. Citrus had made up her mind to support me, and her lawyer was talking her out of it. There was no way in hell I would let that stand, not with so much on the line. The receptionist showed me to my place at the table, and quickly left the room—there was no chair for Peach Pit, and no offer of one. I didn’t bother holding back the frown.

Gavel spoke first. “Mr. Deal, thank you for coming. I understand you were expecting this to be a formality, but I have a number of reservations about the arrangement. There doesn’t seem to be sufficient collateral, even including your businesses, to cover Mrs. Orange’s—”

“Ms. Zest’s.” Citrus interrupted her lawyer, looking even more irate than she had a moment before.

Unfazed, Gavel contradicted her. “The divorce negotiations have scarcely begun, Mrs. Orange. There’s no question that the money involved here is yours; this was not your joint account. But making an… investment… of this magnitude without his agreement will seriously complicate matters.” Gavel turned back to me. “As I was saying. Insufficient collateral, an extremely high risk venture even if it weren’t in a dreadful part of town, your inexperience both with ventures this size and with entertainment of this nature—a cabaret does not qualify—and, frankly, the presence of,” Gavel gestured at Peach Pit, “them. Rather nice of you to dress her appropriately, Mr. Deal, but such riff raff are nothing but trouble, and not only degrade the value of the real estate in question, but endanger the entire operation. Frankly, it draws you into question to even have a relationship of some kind with them. As I’m sure you’re aware, a lawyer is required for real estate transactions in this city, and while the city itself has rubberstamped this foolilshness for the sake of offloading toxic assets, I will not.”

I’d been irritated from the moment nopony offered to get Peach Pit a seat. I’d been grinding my teeth since the son of a diamond dog had the gall to “correct” Citrus on her own name. By the time he finished his tirade, I was struggling desperately to keep the smoke under control, I was so angry. Shaking, I could not prevent. “Mr. Gavel. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you work for Citrus, don’t you? As a lawyer, not a real estate broker, not a financier, not an investment guru. What gives you the right to interfere when she’s made up her mind, if you don’t mind my asking?” Peach and Citrus both blinked, and Gavel’s eyes narrowed. I must have sounded far angrier than I intended, but I didn’t seem to be able to back that down.

Gavel steepled his hooves and glared at me over them. “I do mind, Mr. Deal, but I’ll answer anyway. I work for the Oranges, and have for more than twenty years—for Mosely’s father. Mrs. Orange is a client, and so is her husband. This arrangement is in neither of their best interests, and so I’ll put the kibosh on it any way I can. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s serious business that needs attention today, and this disaster should never have come as close to completion as it did.” Gavel rose to leave, and Citrus and I both opened our mouths to speak. Neither of us got the chance.

“’ow dare you?” Peach Pit’s voice was shrill and furious, and tears had drawn lines in the fur of her cheeks. “We been bustin’ our plots fer momfs workin’ on ‘at street! We got shops, an’ a cafe, an’ we fixed the streetlights wot the city didn’t give two bits about, on our own! ‘at feater’s a chance fer us all ta start over it is, an’ yer sayin we ain’t worth it? That we’re jus’ trash?”

Smoke flared. Reaching out to pull Peach Pit into a hug gave me enough to focus on that it didn’t burst free, but it wouldn’t take much more. I was shaking, and I swore I saw a tendril of smoke waft from my hoof as it wrapped around Peach.

I couldn’t see Gavel, but his tone was pure ice. “You are not worth it. And you are just—” One more word. One more, and I was certain I would lose it right there.

“—fired.”

My head whipped around to see Citrus, her chair knocked over behind her, ready to burst as surely as I was. “You are fired, Gavel, effective immediately. I’ll get the paperwork from your secretary, and so help me Celestia, if you make the slightest move to hinder me, I will ruin you so utterly you won’t be able to argue in front of a small claims court in Hayverbrook! I’ll find another lawyer, and have this finished by the end of the day. Done, is your lawyer looking for a client? If Mosely was right about anything, it’s that you hire quality.”

Gavel had the nerve to raise his voice. “You’ve no right! I’m not just your lawyer; I work for your whole family! Mosely will—”

Citrus hoof slammed the table. “Who do you think bought your practice when you bucked up five years ago, Gavel? It wasn’t Mosely, and it wasn’t 'the Oranges!' It was me. I saved your plot! Mosely was ready to let you fail and go to Docket and Docket. I’m the reason you still have a job! I will liquidate your practice, throw you out on the street, and sue you for malfeasance so fast the papers will be on your desk before you have time to vacate! Done, Ms. Pit, c’mon!”

Shoving the door open with a bang, Citrus stormed out of the room while the rest of us sat dumbfounded. I was too stunned to be angry anymore, and the smoke inside me dwindled like I’d sprung a leak. Unsteadily, I guided Peach Pit out the door, with Gavel behind us, calling for Citrus to wait. We chased Citrus through the lobby and outside, where she stood still fuming, a society lady in a black rage. When she saw us, though, she forced herself back to relative calm. On the sidewalk, with ponies glancing our way from time to time, she apologized. “I can’t believe I let loose like that. And you, Ms. Pit, not given a chair and made to cry. What a dreadful day!”

Peach Pit just stared at Citrus for a moment. “…what happened?” was all she could manage, accent free.

Citrus looked at me, suddenly suspicious. “A fake?”

“Not at all. It’s a long story, but the Trotties used to be under Maneys’ hooves. Peach picked my side when I got involved.”

A handkerchief materialized from Citrus’ dress’ sleeve, and she dabbed at Peach Pit’s eyes, suddenly more gentle than I’d seen her before. “You’ve got good taste, Ms. Pit. Glad I’m not the only mare in town who thinks he’s a winner.”

“You going to be alright sorting this out, Citrus?” I stroked Peach’s mane to calm her, but I was worried about the fallout. The setback of ditching a lawyer could be serious, and if the morning showed me anything, it’s that not every Trottie was interested in playing nice.

“There’s nothing to sort, Done. You’re going to give me the address of your lawyer. You’re going to find that lawyer, and have them ready to act as a notary and handle a real estate transaction. I am going to go back in there and get my paperwork, and meet you at your lawyer’s office in three hours.”

I blinked. “But Gavel won’t just—”

Citrus’ smile was toothier than I’d ever seen it, and far from pleasant. “He upset me, Done. You can get away with a bit. I like you. But don’t ever, ever upset Citrus Zest. I am finished taking it.”

* * * * *

I plopped onto the couch, worn out. The day hadn’t been busy exactly, but eventful sold it short. The Celestia’s Light theater was mine. I had the deed, and I had money backing me; all that was left was to find a contractor. A smile formed as I rolled onto my back. They’d had no interest in hopes and dreams, but with money on my side, I was certain somepony would take the job, and soon. Bed was calling to me, but at the moment, the sofa’s soft fabric was just as loud. It would do.

Had the tapping started any later, I doubt I’d have heard it. Already asleep, I wasn’t deep enough to stay there with any unexpected noise, and the tapping on my third story window definitely wasn’t expected. With an irritated groan, I forced myself to sit up and rub at my tired eyes, only to groan again when I realized that the noise wasn’t coming from anywhere I could see. Grumbling about the cruelty of age and how a closing a deal like a historic theater would’ve had me excited for hours just a few years before, I shuffled down the hall to the bedroom. Jade was down below; the tapping wasn’t her. As I made it through the doorway and looked toward the window, with its scenic view of the alley beyond the club, I tripped over my own hooves and forgot my fatigue entirely: Peach Pit flapped slowly just outside—with a mischievous grin on her muzzle, her dress lifted, and her puffy teats pressed against the glass. I lay on my stomach, staring in shock as Peach laughed. I pushed myself back to my hooves in a hurry, frantic to get the crazy mare inside where nopony could see her pull such a stunt, and maybe got four or five steps ahead before clapping a hoof over my mouth in disbelief: Shining on each teat was was a a golden ring, too big to miss!

While I stared like an idiot, Peach Pit dropped her dress and waved, beaming ear to ear as she fought to get her laughter under control. Just like that, the fatigue was back, though certainly a little different than before. Peach’s dress was back where it belonged, at least. I must’ve looked very tired indeed as I undid the lock and let the crazy mare in. Her wide smile was gone, replaced by a tiny frown and a slightly furrowed brow. She lit on the floor and looked up at me, her long, loose mane hanging all to one side. “You don’t like them?”

I gave Peach Pit a tired smile and shut the window behind her. “I nearly had a heart attack, Peach! What if somepony saw you? I don’t even know if I like them or not. One minute I was asleep, the next a mare has her teats pressed against my window! I know I don’t mind the idea, but,” I failed miserably at stifling a yawn, and felt my cheeks flush, “oh, dammit, see? Old geezers like me can’t handle so much excitement in one day!”

Peach’s frown softened a bit as I yawned, and melted as I griped about my age. Her smile was back, to my relief. With a flap of her wings, Peach Pit went from looking up at me to looking down, and gently pushed on my shoulders to point me toward the door. “I finally have you to myself; you can’t sleep now. I know how to wake you up, Mr. Deal! First step: get you away from any beds!” I could’ve set my hooves when she started pushing me toward the door, and I was more in the mood to invite Peach to my bed than walk away from it, but she was a sweetheart. I could humor her a bit. I allowed myself a wistful glance, though, only to have Peach fly over me, grab my cheeks, and pull me along facing forward. “Nope! This way! I promise you won’t regret it!

She’d never been in my apartment before, and I watched calmly as Peach flapped backwards, not quite dragging me by the face. “How do you know where you’re going, anyway?” I knew what was coming, but she was completely oblivious as she backed into a hanging lamp, squawked in surprise, and dropped into my waiting legs. A blush spread across her muzzle as she looked to see what she’d hit and then back to me. When Peach saw my crooked grin, she let out an exaggerated huff and crossed her front legs, but made no effort to get out of mine.

“Mr. Deal, I don’t know whether to call you a gentlecolt for catching me, or a scoundrel for letting me fly into that!” The red in Peach’s cheeks had nothing to do with anger; her tone made that clear enough, as if there had been any doubt. I set her down gently and patted her on the head.

“I’m pretty sure you were trying to keep me away from bed just so I could be a scoundrel, weren’t you?” I was still exhausted, and fighting back a yawn every moment, but if I was going to be awake, I figured I might as well have fun with it.

Peach laughed happily and pressed her lips against mine, swirling her tongue in my mouth for just a moment. I felt myself slide a bit from my sheathe. When she broke the kiss, she spoke much more softly, and the playfulness was gone. “You really are perfect, Mr. Deal… it’s been months. I tried and tried to find excuses to come, to bring you news, but today was the first time they let me, and… and I don’t care if you’re a gentlecolt, a scoundrel, or both at once! I’ve missed you so much!” I wanted to remind her that we’d only ever spent a couple of afternoons together, but the cute young mare in front of me was so happy—so obviously overjoyed, I couldn’t do it. When a long wing stretched between my legs and brushed my peeking flare, I forgot I’d even wanted to. Her violet eyes were locked on my rod. “I missed this, too.” Peach turned her eyes up toward mine again, pleading completely unnecessarily. “Please, Mr. Deal?” I was still exhausted, but she was right. I didn’t regret letting her pull me away from my bed at all.

“Tell you what, Peach. If you let me walk in front, so I can take care of any bad lamps that try to attack you, I’ll think about it.” I walked past the facehoofing mare, toward the living room. “Come on. Make me not regret skipping a nap.”

Just like that, Peach’s tail and head were held high and she fell in behind me as if she were a duckling. Out of the corner of her eye, as we entered the living room, Peach Pit spotted the shelf displaying my photos. The Tall Tail’s grand opening, our original dancers, Pirouette and I celebrating the day I’d paid off the business loan—and underneath, a dozen of Jade’s photos. Peach’s jaw dropped, and she walked to the case slowly, ears drooping a bit. She pointed at the case with a wing. “W… what are these?” She wasn’t asking about the old photos.

I could feel my temperature rise. Peach knew about the smoke, knew it had been used on her and my other mares, but had no reason to assume there were so many, or I’d been with all of them. It was all I could do not to facehoof. Peach had managed to stay surprisingly innocent about some things. She respected me, practically worshiped me, and then this. My mind raced, and the smoke sprung up, but I liked Peach as she was, and she did love me. There was a better way. “Most of them are actually that family I told you that you were part of now, Peach.”

Peach Pit blinked and looked back and forth between me and the shelf of debauched mares. “…what?”

I sat next to her. What she’d always wanted and never had was family. This was a strange family, but I was its center, and if their photo was up on that shelf, they were mine, and I cared about them. I pointed. “Cheerilee is married in Ponyville now. I helped her get her stallion. This is Strawberry Frosting. She got dumped, and found a new home here, as my maid.” Peach Pit clapped a hoof over her mouth at the sloppy pink mare in the photo. “Uh, try to ignore the mess. This is Shimmer on Nightmare Night; she’s my scenographer now, and that’s Redheart on the other side of me. She’s a nurse in Ponyville, but if she ever needed help, or wanted a job in town, I’d take care of her. You met Bruises earlier. That’s Exposé, her fillyfriend. I got them together. Primavera runs the restaurant next door. It was a takeover, really, but she’s part of the family now too, even if there’s still some friction there. I wouldn’t let anything happen to her. I need every one of these ponies, and they rely on me, too. They’re helping me change the city, Peach.”

Peach Pit looked at me a little dubiously, and I tried to explain. “I’m one stallion. Even with the smoke, do you think I could handle everything alone?”

Peach Pit turned back to the photos. “…do you love all of them?”

I scratched my ear, not sure the truth would help, but certain she’d hear a lie. “I care deeply about all of them, and I mean that. Even Primavera, though that’s still kind of a process. Bruises is like a little sister to me. I’d call Cheerilee and Redheart friends. Shimmering Scales is an employee, but I couldn’t have landed the theater without her, and she’s so excitable, it’s hard not to like her.”

Peach Pit faced me, and I couldn’t read her expression at all. “But you don’t love them all.” It wasn’t a question.

I wasn’t sure what Peach Pit was getting at, only that she was definitely fishing for something. I was getting nervous. When mares start fishing, you’ve only got so long to figure them out, and the way Peach felt about me, it’d hurt her badly if I didn’t. I let the smoke build, preparing for the worst, and pointed at the photo of Deep Tissue as a zebra. “Well, she’s said she loves mmph?!”

Peach’s hoof was in my mouth, her eyes were wet, and a much less pleasant pleading look was on her face. It was my last chance. “Do you love them?” At that moment, Peach was dead wrong that I wouldn’t regret staying up.

Peach Pit removed her hoof. “I… like family at most. Romantically? No. I’ve never said mmph!” Again with the hoof!

“I’ll make you say it!” Peach wiped her eyes with one quick swipe. “I’ll be part of this family, Mr. Deal, but I’ll be the one you love back! Just you wait!” Peach began pushing me away from the shelves, toward the sofa where I’d been lying earlier. “You’ll have more pictures of me than anypony else! Everypony put together, if that’s what it takes!”

Bewildered, I let myself be shoved to the sofa, and Peach hopped into the air, flapping while she undid her dress and let it fall right on my head. “I have to leave that here anyway, too many questions if I take it with me!”

I pulled the dress aside, ignoring Peach’s scent on the warm fabric. I’d heard her land on the coffee table, and with the dress away from my eyes, I found her facing away, hind legs spread and tail up, smiling confidently over her shoulder. Her teats were once again on display, hanging a few inches below below her body, with the golden rings shining in the summer evening’s light streaming through the windows. It was a challenge, and invitation, and a request, all in one. I couldn’t help staring, again. Peach’s teats were already two or three times larger than any mare without foal would have. Without the dress, they couldn’t be missed. With the rings in, though, I could scarcely look away. Gold, and not quite an inch wide, the rings were big enough to be obvious without looking gaudy. Strange, exotic, appealing… painful? Peach’s teats were unbelievably enticing. Vaguely, I was aware that I was getting stiff again, after having cooled off when Peach saw the photos. A giggle from above brought me back to reality.

“And I was afraid you wouldn’t like them.” Reading Peach’s expression now was much easier: pride.

I nodded. “They’re definitely sexy, Peach, but don’t they hurt?” I didn’t mind my girls trying to catch my eye, but I didn’t want them hurting themselves to do it. After her display just a moment before, I was concerned about the lengths Peach Pit might go to to “make” me say I loved her.

“You’ve got no idea, Mr. Deal. But not anymore! Still, they’re why I was glad Toss didn’t kick any farther back. If you’re gentle, you can even play with them a little.” Peach lowered her front half, jutting her rear, rings and all, toward my face. “They were Rose’s idea, actually. She’s nicer than she seems, really. She said it’d prove how serious I am.” Peach’s tone got a bit sweeter. “That stallions like that kind of thing.”

It’d be a lie to say they weren’t a turn on, but I wasn’t as sure Rose was being nice. What was done was done though. She went through it for me, whether her eyes were open or she was tricked. I leaned a forward and gently took a nipple, ring and all into my mouth. Peach happily sighed, and I tried carefully pushing at the ring with my tongue. “Be gentle, but you don’t have to be afraid, Mr. Deal. It doesn’t—ah—hurt. I’ve waited for months to see what your mouth would feel like…” I swirled my tongue around the ring. “Oh, it’s nice.” Peach Pit’s breathing got a bit heavier and she pressed her soft flesh against my muzzle. “Haaah… not enough alone, but oh, it’s a good way to start, Mr. Deal.” I couldn’t see Peach’s face, but it wasn’t hard to imagine her eyes half closed, as if smoke were sliding into her. My hanging rod bumped the coffee table, and I forced myself to be patient. The ring in my mouth was a reminder that Peach had more than earned a little TLC. It wasn’t like I had to worry she wouldn’t return the favor. I slowly pulled my mouth away, using my lips to give her nipple the slightest hint of a tug.

“Done already?” Peach sounded a little disappointed, but it didn’t last. I blew gently on the wet skin and she shuddered at the sudden change in sensation, but before she said another word, it was back in my warm mouth. That “ah” was longer, sweeter, and came with the scent of her moistening slit inches away. She swished her tail restlessly, and I lifted a hoof to tease her other nipple lightly. “I don’t know if you’re really good at that, or if I’ve just been dreaming about you for so long anything would feel wonderful.”

As much as I was enjoying myself, I wanted to take Peach farther, and it’d take more than a little toying with her teats to get her there. I pressed my whole tongue against her soft mound one last time, and made one long, wide lick from there up to her wet lips, tracing up one side and down the other as Peach wobbled and gasped, startled. “Mr. Deal!”

Keeping my lips just barely brushing against hers, I replied softly. “You put these rings in to excite me, right? Well, I’m excited.” I kissed her near her swelling clit, but only the lightest peck. That would come later. Peach’s head snapped around to look back over her withers, mouth hanging wide. She hadn’t seen this coming, which made it that much more fun for me. I paused a moment before lowering my muzzle again to slide only the tip of my tongue along the opening of her lips, tracing the whole way on each side. Peach pulled away for just a moment, worrying me, but it only lasted long enough for her to kneel with her front legs. The poor mare couldn’t stay standing. With a smile, I returned to her opening, which was soaked soaked and sending Peach’s scent through the whole room.

I kissed next to Peach’s clit again, this time tracing my tongue to and around it, but never quite touching it. Peach whimpered and writhed just a bit under my muzzle and I paused, just long enough for her to wonder. When I heard a confused noise from her, I pushed my tongue in between her folds, pressing one between my tongue and lip, sliding its length, waiting a breath, and repeating on the other side. Peach Pit half spread her wings and began pushing backwards, trying to get more from me. I grinned. She’d get what she was asking for.

I licked once more, the full length of Peach’s slit, and caressed a teat, then covered her clit with my mouth, letting nothing but warm breath touch it. My tongue slipped toward it, just touching, once, twice, three times, and Peach’s whimpers became noisier. Visibly tense, she wiggled as if trying to fit more into my mouth, shuddering suddenly as I pushed back with my tongue, directly over her bud. A hind leg slipped, and Peach dropped awkwardly to the surface of the coffee table. I spared it only a half second of consideration. After all, she was a pegasus, far too light to do real damage. Kneeling on the floor, I didn’t let up. Very gently, I sucked at Peach’s button, alternating with quick licks as she writhed around on her stomach.

“Ahh, Mr. Deal! Mm-more! I’m so close!” Tempted as I was to pause and tease her, I obliged, using the tip of my tongue to prod gently at her clit, while the hoof she trapped under a teat when she fell began to knead more firmly. Peach tried to press herself flat against the table, for all the pressure she could get. Her breath was shallow, coming in pants, and her hind legs couldn’t keep still. It was all I could do not to laugh at the poor thing when her tail started swishing restlessly and tickling my ears. Struggling to support myself so low to the ground with one hoof already trapped, I raised my other front leg to gently stroke the length of Peach’s pussy not covered by my mouth, and she nearly screamed.

“Th-that! Both! Oh, Celestia! Oh, oh Celeeeeh!” Peach never finished the word as she shuddered hard, twitching on the table. Her wings shot to a beautiful full spread before collapsing limply with the rest of her. I kept the attention up as she came, licking, sucking, and stroking, doing everything I could to light up Peach Pit’s hindquarters. Peach reached out and grabbed the sides of the table, crying out wordlessly she shook. As she slowly came down, I gave one last lick and sat up—as much as I could with a mare still lying on a hoof.

Peach smiled at to nothing, her eyes still unfocused. I waited patiently for a while; after all, a cute pegasus smiling happily on my coffee table was certainly a pleasant view. My erection was maddening, though and I wanted my turn. I wiggled my trapped hoof. “Can I have this back?”

Smiling wider, Peach Pit waved her tail over my trapped leg. “No. Mine now.”

I patted her flank with my free front leg. “They’re not so big I can’t pull my leg free, you know.”

“Then make them bigger. Or my mane even longer. Or my wings.” Peach was still smiling as she struggled to her hooves and freed me, but her tone, however soft, was completely serious. With effort, she turned herself around on the table and noticed my cock hanging stiff below me. For a moment, her eyes locked on it instead of me. “Oh, it’s just as perfect as I remember.” Peach turned her violet eyes back to me and leaned forward to kiss me, pressing her soft tongue into my mouth. I stroked her mane, returning the kiss. Peach pulled away, giggling. “That’s what I taste like?” Her soft-serious tone returned. “I mean it, Mr. Deal. I want you to love me back. You like my wings. You can make them longer. My teats, my mane, my legs? My flanks, maybe?” Peach wrapped a leg around my neck and leaned down from her coffee table perch to whisper into my ear. “Make me what you want, Mr. Deal… just want me.”

I couldn’t help blinking in shock. I tried to hide it and dodged the moment. “Right now, Peach, I seem to want you plenty just as you are.”

Peach nuzzled her cheek against mine as she let me go. “Then take me, Mr. Deal. That’s why I came back, after all. I never expected you to do all… that.” Peach Pit blushed at the memory and looked away, but her smile was huge. I wanted to—wanted her—but something about Peach Pit’s attitude was worrying me. I hesitated just a moment. Peach misunderstood the pause, hopping down from the coffee table and poking her head underneath me, lapping an unnoticed dollop of precum from my tip while I just stood like a fool.

She licked down the length of my shaft to the balls, and it was my turn to wobble a bit. “It’s so gorgeous, Mr. Deal. I’ve been dying for it since that evening in the theater.” Peach Pit pulled her head out from under me and wrapped her long, strong wings around my neck. As feathers caressed my neck and Peach’s lips drew close, whatever I’d been worrying about vanished. “Oh, I can’t wait for it to be like new again! I wanna do it again, in the same room, with it looking all beautiful! But for tonight…” Peach Pit pulled away, flapping back up onto the table, hind legs parted and wings spread wide. She looked back at me as she said, “I wanna make a new memory, here.”

With an invitation like that, I was sold. I roughly shoved the coffee table aside, and Peach flapped once and landed gently, still waiting for me. I didn’t keep her waiting anymore. I reared up, and as quickly as she flicked her tail over her back, I mounted her and pressed my tip to her opening. As soon as the head touched her, I heard the familiar click of a shutter, and Jade squeaked in surprise. I craned my neck to see Jade, using the back of the sofa as a tripod. Peach Pit was more than a little shocked, and tried to turn, forcing me to waddle along with her. “Who’s that?!”

If I didn’t need my legs where they were, I’d have facehoofed. “That’s Bright Jade, Peach. She handles all kinds of things, including the photos you saw.” The conversation was extremely awkward to have with my tip poised at Peach’s opening.

Peach looked to the shelf of mares, and the wings that had fallen to the floor started to rise again. “…she’s how I get over there?”

More than anything in all of Equestria, I wanted that discussion to end, and was grateful when Jade answered for me. “Mr. Deal likes pretty mares. So I take pictures for him, and his favorites go up there.”

Peach’s wings rose further, and the same defiant look she’d had when she insisted she’d win my heart returned. “Take lots, then!” Peach pushed back, and her folds parted to let just the tip of my head in.

“Still se-sensitive! Go ahead, Mr. Deal, I don’t want to wait another second!” I pushed in, drawing a ragged breath as I slid deep in a single push. When I bottomed out the instant my cock was fully buried, I remembered: I’d used the smoke to make her a perfect fit. When Peach Pit’s walls clenched around me, I moaned softly. As many mares as I’d had, it was hard to compare to a tunnel sized exactly for me. I leaned forward and grabbed Peach’s sides just under her wings, grinding my flare against her depths while my groin rubbed her lips. Peach staggered a little, but the inches I slid out were quickly reclaimed. A few shallow thrusts, only inches, and I drew out, leaving only the head of my cock inside. The soaked skin of her sex rubbed my rod, streaking her juices up and down its length, as more spilled onto the floor. I built up a rhythm and Peach matched it, her wings occasionally shaking with either excitement or pleasure. By then, the entire room smelled of us, rich and musky. I panted for breath, drawing it in, and stretched to press my muzzle to Peach’s neck, adding her to the smell instead of just the scent of rutting. Peach squeezed my cock inside her body, her warmth and pressure edging me toward my climax. Smoke swirled in me, and I batted it back down, far more interested in enjoying the rippling slide of Peach Pit’s channel than the ever-present smoke. As I picked up the pace, Jade’s camera snapped again, and Peach turned to face it, trying to smile, but looking more than a little dazed by the cock sliding in and out of her. The look was unquestionably hot, though, and Jade snapped another shot before moving around behind us. I shut my eyes, licked Peach’s neck, and focused on the pleasure building the whole length of my cock. Peach began pushing back hard, gasping every time my balls slapped her flanks, and I felt the feathers of her wings shift erratically, tickling my front legs where I held her tight.

I pulled far enough back for Peach’s soft lips to kiss my flare, shifting my hooves to her flanks for long, deep final thrusts, loving the feel of each near re-penetration as I stopped just shy of slipping out. My hindlegs trembled as the flood of pleasure washed through my cock, and I staggered backwards, spraying my cum like a hose over Peach’s body as I fell to the floor. Too startled to calm the smoke and quell the orgasm, it landed in her mane, her back, her tail, and more than anyplace else, all over her beautiful wings. Jade snapped one shot after another as Peach blinked in surprise before her muzzle twisted into an amused grin. “You did that on purpose!”

I hadn’t, but the sight of Peach Pit, snickering at me on the floor while my seed soaked into her fur was too ridiculous and I cracked up. “I wish I could say I had! Jade definitely got some great shots out of that!”

I was about to get back to my hooves when Peach pushed me back down with a hoof before glancing back at the photos of the other mares. “I’ll give her some more.” Peach sat on the floor in front of me and delicately extended a messy wing—then craned her neck and ran feathers through her mouth, pulling them back into place as she licked the cum from her own wings. I could only stare as Peach repeated the process, carefully lining up her feathers and stretching out her pink tongue to get every drop off of them. I felt myself stiffening again, quickly, as Peach Pit smiled far too innocently for the show she was putting on. Jade’s camera snapped again while Peach was mid-lick, my cum clearly on both her tongue and wing. Fanning that wing out as much as much as she could, Peach carefully cleaned a long, bright orange pinion, then plucked it from her wing with a wince and used her mouth to run it along my flare. “You wanted to go to bed so badly, Mr. Deal… I think we should.”

At half mast and growing, I could hardly argue.

* * * * *

Peach Pit’s tongue wandered lazily in my mouth for the millionth kiss of the night, and the walls of her full pussy held my softening rod in place as she cuddled. At last, she broke the kiss and looked up at me, lit by moonlight through the same window she’d come in. Her voice was a little slurred; she’d ended up as worn out as I was after insisting that Jade use all the film in the apartment. “Have you ever used satin sheets, Mr. Deal?”

I shook my head as she buried her face under my chin and lay a wing over me. “No. Why?”

“Born Leader had them. They’re wonderful. Slippery, and smooth, and they feel nice. Cool, too. It would be amazing to do this on them.” I wasn’t sure which “this” she meant. The sex, the foreplay, the photography, or the cuddling with my shaft still holding my seed inside of her.

I brushed Peach’s mane away from her mostly closed eyes. “I’ll look into them.”

Peach lifted a long wing and stroked my muzzle, forcing a smile to my lips. “Is Pirouette always like that? Nice and pushy at once?”

I laughed. “Yeah. That’s her in a nutshell. She cares about everypony and works herself to the bone for me. She was very clear that I have to be nice to you.”

Peach Pit smiled brightly pulled one of my front legs down to a teat, using my hoof to play idly with one of her rings. “I like her. I wish somepony were like that in the Trotties. What about Mrs. Orange?”

“Don’t call her that, even when she’s not there. She’s smart, educated, obviously very rich. Loves the arts. Today was the first time I ever saw her blow up like that. Wouldn’t have expected her to blot your tears for you though.”

A moment of silence passed, and I was sure she’d fallen asleep. Maybe she had. Maybe she didn’t wake up despite mumbling. “Mr. Deal?”

I answered as softly as I could, just in case. “Yeah?”

Peach Pit was hard to understand as she mumbled, “Make me what you want. Wanna wake up… like that.”

That again. I kissed Peach on the forehead and she smiled, but I didn’t answer otherwise. I knew what I was to her. She’d made that clear when she saw the photos: a husband who just didn’t know it yet. She’d made it clear when she turned up with pierced nipples: a stallion she was willing to suffer for. She’d made it clear on the way to the theater, months ago: her hero. What was she to me, though? I liked her. She was cheerful, affectionate, obviously dedicated. A friend with benefits? A lover? I knew I didn’t see her as a bride; I didn’t see anypony that way.

Peach Pit snuggled in closer and bore down a little on my rod. She’d been delighted when I agreed to let her sleep that way, mess be damned. The wing stretched over me twitched just a bit, and she mumbled again. “Little… bigger. For you.”

I turned my head and brushed my muzzle against Peach’s wing. Smoke coiled around both of her wings, paused, and sank in. Longer would be noticed. Peach’s feathers seemed to ripple for a moment while Peach clung to me and trembled. It was over. Every feather the perfect length, lying neatly with every other, and a just-preened sheen that would never fade. Nothing more obvious than a new manestyle. She didn’t need the longest wings. Just the best.

That’s what she was: “For me.” Maybe something else one day. Maybe she’d even get her wish; she was a charming filly. But right then, what she was to me was… mine.