A few months after the merge incident, when ponies were just starting to mingle with humanity, a representative the American government had chosen met with Princess Luna and, by the Princess’ request, Fancy Pants. They met in the gardens of Canterlot Castle, around noon, with a tray of small cakes and cookies prepared for the occasion.

“Well now, mister Davison,” the night princess started, “what exactly did you feel like discussing with us at this unholy hour?”

“Don’t let your sister hear that, your highness,” Fancy Pants lightly scolded.

“You are correct, Sir Pants. That was out of line.”

Representative Davison coughed and put down the cookie he’d been eating. “Well, your highness… it’s about the ponies visiting other countries, mostly the United States.”

“Were there any laws broken?” Luna asked.

“See, that’s the problem. There’s no law that says horses – and I use that word with no ill meaning – have to be clothed. What we do have was always taken to apply to just us humans, and states that in most if not all areas, public nudity is expressly forbidden.”

“Please, elaborate,” Luna invited as she levitated a cupcake to her face.

“Well, there are places where it’s perfectly okay for a human to walk around ‘in the buff’, such as in their own homes, assuming the curtains are drawn as to not surprise any passersby, and special parts of beaches. And though most states these days allow both men and women to at least go topless in public, one must still cover the lower bits out of simple decency.”

“Wait,” Luna responded, “we believe we know where this is going.”

Fancy Pants looked up at his royal superior. “You do?”

“Sir Pants, what are you wearing right now?”

“My suit, why?”

“Tis ironic to see a stallion named Fancy Pants go without. Don’t you agree, Mister Davison?”

“I guess it kinda is. And there’s the rub. I’ve noticed the ponies here in Canterlot tend to wear either upper-body clothing or dresses. And said dresses often enough don’t reach all the way back.”

“We fail to see the problem,” Luna admitted.

“It might be a cultural thing, milady,” Fancy suggested, “If I may be so bold.”

“And why is that, Sir Pants?”

“Well, what I think is – and feel free to correct me if you think I’m wrong, my good sir – that most humans become aroused by the naked form, especially the genital region.”

“Just about, Mister Pants,” Davison agreed. “Might I ask how you got that idea?”

“You most certainly may, sir. My dear Fleur and I have partaken of your… what was it called, internets? Twasn’t long before we found several images of an erotic nature, their purpose quite obvious.”

“Oh dear,” Davison muttered under his breath as he scanned the tray for something to distract his mind. “The ponies have found the porn.”

“Whereas… milady, may I be so bold?” Fancy interrupted himself. Luna nodded her consent. “Whereas we ponies are quite inundated by public nudity. Even in Canterlot, the backside is often left bare. I believe it has to do with the cutie mark? So the way I see it, if for example a woman were to present herself to a man while naked, it would indicate a certain sexual willingness…”

He paused and raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Davison, who gave a ‘close enough, carry on’ shrug with a mouth full of cake.

“If she were to be clothed at the time, it would indicate something more romantic, perhaps. A general ‘I find you interesting and we should get to know each other better over drinks’, I might guess. Now, we ponies have similar… levels, as it were, but the amount of clothing is all different. A naked mare displaying certain looks or poses towards a stallion would like a drink, but a naked mare displaying certain specific physical signs would like the D.”

“You did not just use that joke,” Davison groaned.

“I mean, we see the genitalia of other ponies incredibly frequently, from birth,” Fancy Pants continued, picking up steam. “The foals, which easily run between adults’ legs, actually have it the worst…”

“…from a certain point of view!” Luna and Fancy Pants finished the statement together.

“I see,” Davison agreed. “The problem is there’s a fair amount of people who feel that a sentient, ostensibly civilized creature should not walk around with their nuts on display. Their words, not mine, especially the part about civilization. Most of the ponies here in Canterlot wear clothes, but like Fancy Pants, nothing covers their backsides. Not that it matters, though – I’m given to understand most Canterlot ponies would rather stay here in Canterlot. Saves a lotta hassle if you ask me.”

“Quite. I find humanity quite interesting myself, to be honest,” Fancy argued. “But do you know what would really bake your noggin, sir?”

“What?”

“When a mare wants to look sexy, she brings out the lingerie.”

Davison was reasonably shocked at the idea of an equine in lacy underthings.

“Or at the very least, socks,” Luna admitted, “If they’re not to keep warm. We have a very nice pair. But if you gentlemen will excuse us, we must meet with our dear sister.”

“Very well,” Fancy Pants acknowledged, “and please give her my regards.”

He and Davison watched Luna rise and turn away, her ethereal tail swishing from one side to the other. Both men caught an easy glimpse of the royal plot hole and what lay beneath as its owner walked away. From the corner of his eye, Fancy Pants could see Davison blanch at the view.

“Is something bothering you, sir?” Fancy Pants asked sotto voice.

“I have never seen such a magnificent pussy in my life,” Davison muttered. “And yet it feels so wrong. How does this not faze you?”

“She was obviously not interested.”

“How could you tell?”

“Remember when I mentioned specific physical signs?” Fancy Pants asked as he appraised a piece of shortcake. Davison nodded. “Her highness was not displaying any of them. The tail swishing around could be mistaken for one, but that was obviously because she was turning around so we can disregard that. Do Earth horses… wink, sir?”

Davison paused to recall what the term meant in context. “Yeah, they do when they… oh.”

“There are, of course, less subtle methods to show one’s interests. But the princess did not display any of those either.”

“That doesn’t solve the problem at hand though,” Davison argued. “We still have humans getting freaked out by un-covered pony behinds.”

“Would a token article help assuage their nerves?”

“Perhaps,” Davison shrugged. “I’ll have to take that up with my superiors.”

“Then I shall do similarly. Good afternoon, Sir Davison,” Fancy Pants agreed, sneaking one more snack from the tray.

Davison twitched at the view of Fancy’s pants-less-ness seen from behind, then shrugged it off and chomped into a distracting éclair.

Author's Note

Thanks to The6thMaster for some valuable input.

Only name this time is another Doctor Who actor, Peter Davison, who played the Fifth.