To readers who finished the former Chapter 10 before 2 February 2015,

This chapter comprises the revised first part of the old Chapter 10 (now chapters 13 and 14). It is not new to the story.

Twilight Sparkle had barely read two full chapters of her book during the past hour and a half. Though she’d tried to prepare herself, the way the two went at it was beyond what she’d expected. Constant worry caused the lavender mare to check the boundaries of her pony detection spell more frequently than necessary for such a remote location, and, conscious of the time, Twilight couldn’t help watching her own shadow, waiting anxiously for the date to reach its end. It was worth her discomfort for her friends’ sake, she thought, though her uncertainty about their situation nagged at her more now than ever.

Though the new princess had been far from complacent, never allowing herself to forget how much depended on her, what was happening now simply felt reckless. Ultimately, Twilight gave up trying to read and instead passed her time as chaperone in deep contemplation. The adept pony focused. She must stay vigilant, she must find answers, and she must not, under any condition, fail.

The studious young mare’s organized mind went back through a mental checklist of everything that had happened to that point. She forced herself not to rush through the uncomfortable parts as she wished she could. She could afford to overlook nothing. Going back over everything she could remember about her research and the course of action she’d planned, there was a lot to recall, but her mind was sharper than the average pony's, and the matter was one she knew well, having dwelt on it all too often over the past week.

The young princess reminded herself to breathe and tried to relax. Upon clearing her mind, one thought in particular resurfaced. Yesterday’s meeting with Applejack had left an impression on Twilight.

“You're ... helpin' this pony ... this ... mare who won't come out in the open about what's goin' on with Sweetie Belle?! Please tell me ya mean ye'r helpin' em stop wantin' t-ta ... fiddle with Sweetie Belle!” Applejack looked about half as shocked as Twilight felt when Fluttershy confessed what happened, but the lavender pony knew that didn't mean it'd be any easier to make her understand. Nothing but the truth could make Applejack understand. Twilight just hoped there were enough honest facts to do the job.

The lavender librarian began to list every reason and counter-reason she'd found that a young filly and mare in their culture might be able to maintain a healthy relationship in spite of the pitfalls. Several minutes later, as she'd begun to expound upon another set of carefully categorized points, Applejack interrupted her.

“—Listen, Sugarc- Ah mean, Princess.” Twilight cringed, but now wasn't the time to correct her friend. “If ya say ye've got a lotta good reasons and ye'r goin' about it carefully ... well ... Ah can believe ya.” Applejack seemed calmer, but her brow still furrowed.

It didn't look to Twilight as though her explanations had been adequate, and her worry increased.

“Just, let me ask ya one thing.”

Twilight nodded. She'd answer anything that didn’t break her promise to Fluttershy.

“After everything's said 'n done, all yer research 'n plans ... how do ya feel deep down,” Applejack placed her hoof to her own chest, “about them bein' together?”

The question caught Twilight a little by surprise. She'd stammered momentarily, and, feeling Applejack's earnest gaze upon her, she'd wished it had been a different question. “Do you mean ...” Twilight struggled to find an angle that might let her answer positively, but she knew exactly what her friend meant to ask. The princess sighed.“I ... I don't know.”

There was an uncomfortable pause as Applejack exhaled and tried to wrap her head around everything. Twilight looked downcast, able only to frown at the ground until, finally, she felt a hoof rest on her shoulder, and she looked back up.

Though Applejack's eyes still showed concern, she no longer seemed upset. “Ah know ya wouldn't do anythin' like this lightly 'n that ye'r mighty intelligent. ... Since ya seem ta be set on helpin', Ah just ... need ta know ye'r listening to yer heart too.” Applejack noted the stress in her friend's features and felt pity. She couldn't help but empathize after what she’d gone through herself during the past week. “Knowin' ye'r tryin ... that's all the reassurance Ah guess Ah can really ask, ‘least fer now.” A small smile formed on Applejack’s face.

Twilight returned her friend’s smile. Being called intelligent by the honest mare was certainly welcome and so was Applejack’s wisdom. The purple pony’s smile quickly faded, however, as she realized she'd been neglecting to do as Applejack advised. Ever since she'd discovered the true nature of Fluttershy's problem, it had been much easier, even necessary, to ignore most of her feelings while she dove into her research. “But you trust me, even though I don't know how to feel?”

Applejack thought quietly to herself for a moment. “Truth be told, Ah’m still mighty uncertain 'bout everythin’, but ... one thing Ah do know is ya have a good heart ... Princess Twilight. If ya just let it be a part a' yer plannin', Ah know ye'll do what's right. 'N honestly, Ah trust ya more because ye'r not sure how ta feel than Ah might if ya were helpin' this mare, already convinced one way or the other.”

Twilight's guilt ebbed, and she threw herself into a hug with the Apple mare. Her smile returned, and her eyes watered. Applejack seemed to neither support nor condemn Twilight’s actions, but, ethics aside, her friend clearly believed in her. What’s more, she’d given her an honest opinion. It came as a relief to Twilight, while she sought to unravel the difficult and dangerous problem before them, not to feel quite so alone.

“Please, just call me Twilight.”

They'd chuckled in each other's embrace.

Twilight looked now at the couple with tired eyes.

Before any of this had begun, Twilight had never bothered to question what most considered the truth about an adult pony being in lust with a foal. If it weren't for their age difference, would any of this be necessary? It was common enough in Equestria for ponies to indulge a fetish or two, Twilight thought, but Fluttershy's sexual preference wasn't some food or clothing-based kink as ponies were most apt to express.

Twilight lit her horn in search of any who might have crossed the boundary.

No response.

It was different, of course, because it meant taking advantage of somepony who, most believed, couldn't understand, who, ponies claimed, couldn't or shouldn’t be prepared for sheer lack of mental development. On the other hoof, Fluttershy herself wasn’t in the easiest of positions. Despite the fact that Fluttershy seemed to enjoy the general fluidity of attraction with which many mares were blessed—be it to either gender—she was cripplingly shy with most acceptable prospects. It didn't excuse doing harm to Sweetie Belle, but it left the offbeat pony in a very difficult situation.

Twilight remembered what Fluttershy had told her during one of their visits. “I've just been ... so tired of being afraid and alone this way.” She’d worn a stony expression. Worse than repression or avoidance, Twilight sensed profound hopelessness and sorrow. She’d grieved with her.

The concerned friend thought back to her first encounter with Fluttershy and wondered, not for the first time, what might have happened if she hadn't brought Spike along. She thought how other ponies must have similar experiences dealing with the shy mare. Maybe one of the pet owners of Ponyville could have eventually broken through to Fluttershy romantically, Twilight speculated. It would certainly take some persistence on the suitor's part, she thought. She remembered how, in her own platonic case, the first impression she'd had of the shy pony was that she’d only been interested in Spike himself.

Spike himself. ... Oh. As Twilight remembered the ease with which the pegasus had addressed her baby dragon from the start, her thoughts turned suddenly to revelations of Fluttershy’s past, accounts that the pegasus had shared, mid consummate shame and remorse, only after diligent prompting and the most tender reassurance Twilight could offer.

“They didn’t judge me.” Fluttershy sniffled. “Even though I felt it was wrong, and ... and I—” she choked back sobs. “I hurt some of them, without meaning to, i-in the heat—in the heat of the moment but—I hurt them—and ...” She shook with emotion, and the wave of her despair crested.

Twilight sat quietly across from Fluttershy. She wanted nothing more than to hug her friend, but sensed by the way she seemed to hide herself that it might not wise. Twilight’s hoof reached out as sobs racked the curled form of the distressed young mare, only to be met with the tormented pony’s sudden recoil, and Twilight’s hoof withdrew.

At a loss for what to do, the purple pony sat still, and the next couple minutes passed, filled with soft painful tears. She could do nothing except be there for her.

Fluttershy’s crying ebbed. “Fluttershy.” Twilight’s voice was pained but attempted to soothe.

Several more seconds passed in silence.

“I’m so sorry, Fluttershy. ... I’m sorry you’ve had to be alone with this.”

“It’s ... alright,” Fluttershy dismissed gently.

“I don’t believe it’s alright.”

“N-no ... It’s ... fine,” the pegasus insisted sadly.

“Why, Fluttershy? How can it be fine that you’ve hurt for so long, and nopony has been there for you?” Twilight agonized.

Fluttershy wouldn’t make eye contact, but looked down at her own tear-soaked hooves. “I ... deserve to be alone.”

Twilight couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “But!” She had to stop herself from calling the notion ridiculous. More softly, she began again. “But you’re the kindest pony I know ... so ... why?” The last syllable carried with it confusion, concern, incredulity, but mostly her own grief at her friend’s pain.

Fluttershy was silent a moment longer before answering.

“I wasn’t kind when I manipulated them f-for ...” Fluttershy couldn’t bring herself to say it again. “I wasn’t kind when I hurt them and used them, willing or not. I’m lucky to have close friends and be gifted with animals, regardless ... to have ponies and critters in my life who care about me. I’m most grateful for you and Sweetie, Twilight, but I ... It’s far more than I deserve by my own merit. ... I ... think the only way I’ve managed to make it this far is by faith that, despite my crimes, somebody much wiser than me somehow knows I still have potential.” Finally, Fluttershy looked up, and, with unexpected earnestness, locked eyes with Twilight. “That somebody much stronger than all of my challenges and far more kind than I’ve ever been still wants me—is the only reason I’m still alive. Thanks to faith, I’ve never truly been alone, but if I’ve been without a friend’s shoulder to cry on, it’s nothing I’m not wholly responsible for, you see.”

Twilight mulled over Fluttershy’s words only to wind up torn between wanting to validate her friend and the desire to be honest. “I’m sorry. It’s not really clear to me. It looks like, um ... faith has given you hope, but, at the same time, it seems like you’re still in a lot of pain?” Her curiosity was genuine.

Fluttershy nodded. “The purpose,” she clarified, “of faith isn’t to make bad things go away, at least not usually. In my experience, it’s been more to give reason for suffering and strength to grow from trials.”

Though she didn’t fully understand it, Twilight at least found common ground in growth through challenges. She thought Fluttershy’s belief system remarkable for how it had seemed to carry her through adversity, even while the timid pony lacked much in the way of self confidence. Twilight nodded, not wishing to press the matter of her own doubts and uncertainties at such a tender moment, but she couldn’t hide her inner conflict from the pegasus.

“It’s alright.” Fluttershy responded to what she saw in Twilight. “I didn’t understand at first, either. Oh—not that you ... don’t understand. I mean, you’re really smart, and I didn’t mean to say you wouldn’t understand ... at least, that is, if you maybe, um ... well, I’m not very good at explaining it. S-sorry.” Her ears folded back.

“Not at all!” Twilight reassured her. “It sounds like something best learned, maybe, from experience.”

Fluttershy nodded and relaxed.

Twilight pressed on. “So, you said it’s been—how long since you last acted out with one of your animals?” She guessed the term might sit better with the pegasus than had sex, and she was right.

Fluttershy took a steadying breath. “I didn’t say, but ... it’s been, um,” she swallowed, “about four months ... a little before, um ... I took Iron Will’s assertiveness training.”

Twilight nodded and offered Fluttershy her most genuinely understanding smile. “And how often would you say it happens?”

At this there was a long pause, during which Fluttershy’s eyes watered as she fought against her shame once more. “S-sometimes ... sometimes it doesn’t happen as much, and ... other times ... most of the time,” Fluttershy forced out the honest confession, “i-it happens ... daily, um ... sometimes t-two or three times a day w-with ... different animals.”

Though Twilight had carefully prepared herself and reacted with only genuine concern for her friend, the frequency and intensity of Fluttershy’s urges, her compulsiveness, and her deviance in contrast with what she thought she knew about the quiet pegasus’s private life, had surprised her. Shortly after Fluttershy's primary confession to her involvement with Sweetie, the perceptive purple pony guessed that the pegasus may have held a penchant for Spike. Now, however, what Twilight recalled of the shy pony’s past made her realize the likelihood that sex with him hadn’t been a fantasy that developed over time, but, rather, had been on the timid pony’s mind from the day they’d first met.

Twilight paused to reflect again, as she had then, on the fact that, in spite of so much other deviant behavior, Fluttershy had resisted so long in the face of opportunity without ever acting on her fantasy to be with a foal (or other young sapient creature). Perhaps, if Sweetie, like Spike or any other foal, hadn’t reciprocated with such immediate and intense interest in Fluttershy individually, and at such a vulnerable moment, when the young mare’s loneliness seemed so intense, then this whole pot of worms would never have been uncovered.

The lavender caregiver thought, as she had many times lately, of what might have happened if Spike had pursued Fluttershy rather than Rarity. Twilight couldn't be certain how she might handle finding out that her own young charge had been sexually active with one of her best friends.

After a brief check on the boundary, Twilight’s thoughts turned again to the conversation with Applejack.

“Seein' how ye'r the one that little filly sent to talk to me, Ah’m willin’ to take yer word for it, but, uh,” Applejack stopped herself from calling her friend ‘Princess’ again, “Ah still don’t understand. What’s got ya convinced not to just end it all? Ah mean, why even risk givin’ it a chance? Or, if ye’r that set on helpin’, why not finish yer fact gatherin’ before ya let ‘em risk bein’ t’gether?”

Another difficult question, but this one Twilight had an answer for. “I’m not at liberty to discuss my reasons for trusting the mare in question, but, if you knew her, Applejack, well,” Twilight paused, cutting herself short. “Let’s just say I do trust her, and I’ve promised to keep her secret.”

Applejack nodded. True to her word she didn’t pry, though her expression was curious.

“As for why I’ve decided not to wait longer, it’s ... Sweetie Belle. She’s ... I think she might actually need this. I’ve talked with her a lot, and I’ve rarely seen a young filly so passionate about something or somepony else outside of a special talent. Even among young ponies obsessed with their talents, I’ve only occasionally seen so much ... sincere devotion.” Twilight didn’t hide her momentary awe. The filly was so convinced her mate should be Fluttershy. It didn’t exactly fit with what Twilight expected.

Notwithstanding Twilight’s understanding and pity for the couple, as she watched them now, so absorbed and seemingly happy, it still felt off. Twilight herself was torn.

Was the kind pegasus's caress really any more or less virtuous with Sweetie now than it would have been if the filly had passed her first heat cycle? Twilight's research failed to answer her fully, and now, as she'd been inclined to do in the past, Twilight admitted that the quest for knowledge had to expand beyond books. Some things, like Pinkie sense, or Spike's origin, or what the future held, or friendship, simply had to be learned by experience.

Yet some things were better left unexplored, Twilight thought, and at that thought she fought the urge to end the date immediately. If she weren't in such a unique position, such an experiment of love would have been much too dangerous to consider. Of all the ways in which the new princess could have exercised her authority, Twilight never imagined it would be to secretly offer royal protection for her friend's illicit romance. ... And supervision, she added to herself, exasperated, as she watched Sweetie Belle purposely stray to kiss the pegasus's jaw and Fluttershy eye her forehead.

Fluttershy began to move for the filly's small horn, but Twilight wouldn't have that. The lavender pony cleared her throat loudly. It was enough to deter them.

What kept her from wholly interrupting their lurid make out session was the memory of how much she knew Sweetie wanted this sort of intimacy and one phrase Twilight repeated again and again to herself. Just let them have this one.

“You should have seen her face when I told her it might be a year before I’d endorse their petition. She looked ... crushed.” Seeing Twilight's sorrow, Applejack moved to her friend's side and placed her foreleg on her withers. Twilight was glad for the gesture. “I mean, I know young fillies tend to think of things as black and white sometimes, and, as Rarity’s sister, it makes sense she’d be a bit more dramatic, but she's really been fairly levelheaded, in spite of what she might have learned from Rarity, at least, beyond clearly having fallen horn over hooves in love.”

Twilight felt somewhat relieved to finally open up a little.

“It's still much too soon to tell for sure, but she seems genuinely committed to ... her mare. She's thrown herself into studying to prepare for what lies ahead. ... It's almost been difficult to remember she's ... so young,” Twilight nearly said 'too young,' but couldn't pass that judgment, given the gaps in her research and Sweetie’s atypical behavior, “and the way she's relied on me,” vicariously through Fluttershy, the observant pony thought to herself and sighed, “I couldn’t bring myself to betray that kind of trust. Even if I might forbid the mare, I wouldn’t feel right denying Sweetie as long as I can't find any ... verifiable harm in letting them be close ... without s-sex anyway,” she finished. Twilight wished she could say more about Sweetie Belle's disposition, about her home and school life, but, despite the filly's identity being known between them, she felt uncomfortable revealing too much.

Applejack considered how much reading she'd seen Sweetie do next to the fact that the filly had been receiving Twilight's help willingly. “Ah guess that makes sense.” The Apple pony seemed more understanding than Twilight anticipated. “Ah'm a little embarrassed to admit it ... but Ah'm relieved it's not me havin' t' make these decisions. Ah really didn't wanna see the crusaders hate me, but ... givin’ those two the benefit of the doubt ‘n tryin’ to find a way to make it work—” Applejack's brow wrinkled “—whoever this mare is, she an' Sweetie are mighty fortunate t' have yer help. Frankly, Ah’d’ve told Sweetie’s parents if ya hadn’t come t’ me.”

Twilight had wondered from the start what Magnum and Garden Wishes might do if they knew. “I’ve ... considered that, as well.”

Seeing how severely Fluttershy’s mistake with Sweetie Belle tore at her and witnessing how difficult it had been for the meek pony to open up had helped Twilight be more disposed to sympathy despite her crime. In Spike’s case, Twilight thought, however, as his caretaker, she doubted she’d have been able, regardless, to act in the same role she’d taken with Sweetie. Spike might have hated her for it, but she’d have had to put her hoof down as Spike’s immediate family member.

Recognizing this made it that much harder for Twilight to go behind the backs of Sweetie’s own family members, but, she reasoned, if another pony she deeply trusted did the same thing she was doing in Spike’s case, she’d at least consider allowing it. So long as the pony guiding them had the power to protect the couple from serious trouble, and, whoever it was, as Applejack had said, had a good heart, Twilight thought her big-sisterly—somewhat motherly—instincts toward Spike might be satisfied.

Of course, while Twilight might allow it under special circumstances, the thought of personally mediating her own younger sibling’s intimate relationship caused her more than just anxiety and discomfort. She barely stomached the thought of watching her parents making out, much less Spike as he made out with one of her pony friends. There were only a few ponies she felt she trusted to handle such a job in her place, but they certainly existed. She might still prefer to be informed if it were Spike, of course, just as she’d like to inform Sweetie’s family, but that had been out of her hooves from the moment to swore to keep the secret.

Twilight wasn’t at all used to the need to justify herself. It felt too much like rationalizing, a practice with which she’d never been too comfortable. It was so much easier just to follow all the rules, but, every time Twilight thought it was time to call the whole thing off, she remembered so much pain and loneliness in her friend. Pain at feeling alone. Loneliness due to the shame of being so compulsively bound by her urges. Bound because, as Twilight had learned, it had been the only means of distracting herself from the pain of loneliness at home and among her peers. And so it became a vicious cycle.

Sweetie’s need for secrecy shouldn’t be overlooked either, Twilight reminded herself. If the filly would truly have benefited from her family’s involvement, Twilight might try to convince Fluttershy to break the news to them carefully. Based on what case studies had shown and what Sweetie had revealed about her parents, however, Twilight speculated that their general lack of involvement in Sweetie’s life meant that they might ultimately overcompensate. They were loving parents, but, like Rarity, a little self absorbed (though in ways that manifest differently than in their older daughter).

These and other thoughts ran through Twilight’s mind as she paused for what felt to Applejack like a long time. As she was about to call Twilight's name, the princess snapped herself back from her musing. “It would be ... complicated,” was all that Twilight would say, but concern shown through that Applejack understood well enough, and she leaned in to nuzzle the preoccupied purple pony.

“Is there anythin’ at all that Ah can do t’ help?”

Twilight hesitated. “Just ... talking has helped. ... I feel a lot better knowing that ... I’m not in this alone.”

Suddenly Twilight felt a little guilty. Fluttershy had supported her, after all. Did admitting she felt alone, suddenly mean that she was ungrateful? After a moment, she decided no. She was grateful, but there were some burdens Fluttershy couldn’t help Twilight bear after all.

Applejack removed her foreleg from Twilight’s withers, but remained by her side. “Well, Sugarcube—A-ah mean Pr—Ah mean ... oh, you know what Ah mean! ... Ah’m right here for ya, right now, so ... please, talk t’ me.” Applejack smiled tenderly at her friend.

Twilight failed to resist any longer. Who better to confide in than an honest friend and one who knows even better than she does what it’s like to be responsible for a young filly? “Well ... there are some things about Sweetie Belle that have been on my mind, but, if I share them with you, can you promise they’ll stay between us? It's nothing so bad.” Twilight added quickly, “Just that, even though she hasn't asked me to keep it secret, I feel it goes without saying that, as I’ve tried to help her and gotten to know her better, the personal things Sweetie’s shared ought to stay that way, and I don’t want to betray her or her family’s confidence, implicit or otherwise.”

Applejack took a moment to decipher that last part. “So ya want me to keep it a secret?” Twilight nodded somberly, and Applejack responded in kind. “Then ya have my word.”

The purple pony smiled. “Thank you, Applejack.”

She collected her thoughts while Applejack waited expectantly.

“You mentioned Sweetie’s parents, and ... that got me thinking about something I’ve really only begun to fully understand,” the lavender pony began with a hoof on her chin and a thoughtful expression, “that is, why Sweetie would jump so quickly to wanting marriage.”

Applejack looked curious once more and nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“I can only speculate,” Twilight disclaimed, “but my best guess so far is that it has to do with Sweetie’s home life. ... For starters, having come to know Sweetie, and her parents through her, I think I’ve also begun to understand better why Rarity has a knack for drama. You’ve known her longer than I have,” Twilight looked at Applejack, “and, please, correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems to me that being dramatic might have actually been a way for Rarity to get her parents’ attention growing up.”

Applejack could neither confirm nor deny. “T’ be honest, Ah can’t really say what she ‘n her parent’s were like back then. To this day, Ah’ve only gotten to know ‘em through business, never anythin’ personal.” Applejack thought for a moment. “The only thing that really stands out is that they were younger than most when they had Rarity, Ah guess.”

“I see,” Twilight continued. “Well, in any case, it's just speculation, like I said. I don't want to jump to conclusions. ... It’s just as probable Rarity was inclined toward drama simply because she felt rewarded for it. Um ... her parents might have praised her or simply given her more of what she wanted because of it, in which case, due to their experience with Rarity, they might have come to expect Sweetie to act the same way, and, when she didn’t, or at least, not to the same extent, they incorrectly assumed she didn’t want as much attention as her older sister.”

“Hang on now.” Applejack digested what Twilight was telling her. “Ye’r sayin’ that the squeaky wheel gets the grease, an’ Sweetie Belle’s been too quiet fer her parents ta notice?”

“Precisely,” Twilight held back a giggle, amused by the colloquialism and pleased to be understood. “This fits with something Sweetie said during one of our conversations, that she feels Rarity gets all of their parents’ attention, and, quote, ‘I wish I could be more like her.’” Twilight waited to see what conclusion her friend might draw from this final bit of information.

“Well, now, Ah hadn’t thought about it ‘til now, but, it sounds like yer sayin’, Sweetie admires her sister because she’s got their parents’ attention. Are ya sure about that?”

“Well, actually, no,” Twilight admitted. “I wondered whether the drama of being in a romantic relationship with an adult wasn’t partly the result of some sort of subconscious sibling rivalry, but—”

Twilight snapped back to the present moment, but not for the usual reason. No funny business was going down between Sweetie and Fluttershy. Rather, they'd stopped.

Twilight checked for company briefly before focusing again on the couple. Had they finished? Twilight checked her shadow. The time was coming close for their date to end.

Author's Note

Last revised 2 February 2015
- for punctuation, flow, and voice
- split into 2 parts

Original Note:
*groan*
Parts of this became tedious to write and I worry it will reflect poorly unfortunately. Maybe if I plan things better.. It's unavoidable sometimes though I guess.

Also, dat season 4 finale!!

(Edit: Oh this chapter didn't turn out so bad after all I guess. Just a few typos. Yay.)

If any errors pop(ped) out at you, I'll be grateful as usual to have your help fixing them. I think I got all of them, but it's easy to miss some. What takes me longest to rectify is my wording, but I think that didn't turn out to need much editing since I've been editing as I go. Suggestions are still welcome of course.

This chapter you might notice the capitalization of the pronoun "Ah." It was experimental. I think I like lower case better personally, but if you feel strongly one way or the other I'd like to hear. It's probably not a big deal either way.

The issues are the meat of this chapter of course. I'd love most to hear your thoughts about exactly that since one of my primary purposes in writing this is to gather information about others' perceptions and share some of my own about the moral, social, psychological, and spiritual issues surrounding what it means to be in a situation like this.

For instance, if Sweetie were a human child in real life, what age range do you think she'd fit into best based on how she's written here physically and mentally. Would her physical and mental ages match? Do you think she'd be ready for the kind of relationship they both seem to want? Why?

I'm constantly trying to answer these and many other questions myself. Hopefully having interested readers' opinions will give me that much more insight.