Cheerilee's Thousand

by xjuggernaughtx

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Cheerilee, Random, Slice of Life
Length: 94064

Cheerilee goes on one thousand terrible dates.

"How could somepony as amazing as you not have a Special Somepony on Hearts and Hooves Day?"

With that single sentence, a thousand memories came flooding back to Cheerilee. A thousand memories of a thousand terrible dates...

Published 2013-11-15 21:10:05 UTC
Last updated 2017-01-07 23:43:51 UTC

Date Two - Hot Stuff

“You know, I don’t want to seem unappreciative,” Cheerilee said, wiping the pouring sweat from her brow.

“No, no,” Stormbolt said, panting. “It’s understandable, really.”

“It’s just, well, when you said you had something really interesting planned,” Cheerilee continued, shifting from hoof to hoof to allow the burning to subside a bit, “I wasn’t expecting… this, exactly.”

“In retrospect, this maybe wasn’t such a hot idea.” Stormbolt grinned weakly. “Heh-heh. Hot.”

Cheerilee’s frown deepened. Stormbolt continued to sweat.

“So what now?” she finally asked.

Stormbolt scanned the area, hoping for inspiration. “Well,” he finally said, “tell me about yourself! Where did you grow up?”

“I don’t think this is the time for that!” Cheerilee said, glaring at the stallion. “I want to know how you plan to get us out of this mess!”

“Hey, you agreed to this!” Stormbolt said, returning the glare.

“No, I agreed that a surprise outdoors-y activity might be fun, and when you mentioned sightseeing, I said that would be wonderful. I never said anything about this!”

“I brought you flowers,” the stallion said weakly.

“They’re on fire!” Cheerilee yelled, waving the burning daffodils.

“But you’ve probably never seen anything like this on a date, have you?” Stormbolt said, trying to look anywhere but at the fuming teacher.

“Actually, no,” she returned acidly. “No, I haven’t. And that’s because we’re in a volcano!” She waved her hooves over her head, ducking as pieces of flaming daffodil rained down on her. “What were you thinking?”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that the ledge would give way?” he returned as he kicked a small rock into the burbling pools of lava a few yards away.

Cheerilee gave the stallion a flat stare. “Aren’t you a professional mountain climber?” she said.

“Well, yeah…”

“Don’t you make a living taking ponies on breath-taking tours of Equestria’s various mountains and highlands?”

“Err… yes, I do.”

“Didn’t I point out that porous lava rock was notoriously weak,” Cheerilee yelled, tossing the burnt flower husks into the magma, “and didn’t you tell me to trust you, and that you’d done this a million times?!” Stormbolt winced as the bouquet carbonized and disappeared.

“Well, isn’t this nice and… uh, secluded?” he said, looking hopefully at the mare as she skipped away from a deluge of burning embers that has just exploded from a nearby pool of molten rock. “Nopony around to bother us.”

Stormbolt quailed as Cheerilee shot him a vicious glance while fanning her flank. Despite her best efforts, a few of the embers had managed to land there, and she was beginning to blister. “Oh, it’s going to be very secluded soon, buster, if you don’t get on fixing this mess!” Cheerilee trotted up and grabbed the stallion by the ear, pulling his head down to her level. “I am going to throw you in there after your flowers in a minute if you don’t get us out of here!”

“Well, what am I supposed to about it?!” Stormbolt yelled. “It’s not like I have my equipment with me!”

“Well, if your ad in the personals hadn’t have been a big lie, you could have flown us out!”

“Hey, now that’s unnecessary!” Stormbolt said, prying his ear away from the furious mare. “Look, okay, I was wrong to put that pegasus thing in there, but when your parents name you Stormbolt, well, mares have this certain expectation.”

“You mean kinda like the expectation that a mare might have when she expects to meet a pegasus and she meets an earth pony instead?” Cheerilee said.

“Well—”

“What were you thinking?!” Cheerilee yelled again, throwing up her hooves.

“What? You have something against earth ponies?” Stormbolt said, running his eyes up and down her. “You’re one to talk!”

“Don’t be a moron! I don’t have anything against earth ponies!” Cheerilee exploded, poking a hoof into his chest. “I have something against liars! However, I was willing, out of the goodness of my heart, to give this liar a second chance, and look where it got me!” Cheerilee punctuated her statement with a sweeping hoof, drawing Stormbolt’s attention unnecessarily to the lava and lethal gasses that surrounded them.

“Look, I’m just sensitive about the name, alright?” Stormbolt said, sitting down sullenly before leaping back to his hooves, yelping. Cheerilee’s frosty expression failed to melt as he fanned his smoking backside. “My parents always wanted a pegasus. They use to make me put on these little wings when I was running around in the backyard, and—”

“Yes, very tragic,” Cheerilee growled. “We can find you a nice therapist once you climb out of this caldera and get us some help!”

“Okay, okay,” Stormbolt said, checking his tail to make sure it was completely extinguished. “We need to put our heads together and figure out a way out of this mess. So, what's our next step?”

“I believe we're at step one: The lying creep that shouldn’t ask the mare how to get of the mess he made!”

“Look, I’m sorry, alright?!” Stormbolt yelled, whirling on the mare. “I thought this would go better! I figured we’d sit up there on the rim and look at the moon and the glowing lava and, I don’t know… it would be romantic and stuff! I thought that it would make this big impression!”

“Well, you got that part right, buddy,” Cheerilee said, sighing. “Okay, so you’re not perfect, and this date is ruined. Let’s just figure out what to do, and we can go our separate ways without me needing to murder you.”

Stormbolt’s eyebrows knitted together. “So… there’s no chance of a second—”

“No!” Cheerilee shouted. “Just get me out of here!”

“Whew, that’s pretty tough.”

“I’m going to show you tough if you don’t start climbing out of here and find us help!”

Stormbolt sighed heavily and scanned the crater’s steep walls. Nodding, he pulled Cheerilee off to one side.

“Okay, now I’ll just stand on your back—”

“I’m going to kill you!”

Date Three - Lowering the Bar

“… And so then I ran back to the forty, and I jumped up, I mean, way, way up over the head of the cornerback!” Gridiron said, leaning back in his chair and reaching high overhead. “And the ball was comin’ like it was Hearth’s Warming! I mean, it coulda had a bow on it, ya know?”

“Uh-huh,” Cheerilee sighed, picking at her salad.

“And it just falls right into my hooves!” he continued, “You shoulda seen the look on that cornerback’s face! It was like, uh…” Gridiron stopped for a moment, drumming his hoof on the table as he searched for the word. “Well, it looked kinda like—” Cheerilee sighed again as the stallion made a series of disgusting faces, grunting that each one didn’t feel right. When Gridiron screwed his face up so severely that he sneezed, Cheerilee leapt at the opening.

“You know, that reminds me of the time the foals in my class—” she said, forcing brightness into her voice.

“Yeah, hold on,” Gridiron cut in. “I wasn’t done. Anyway, so this cornerback’s there with this totally hilarious look on his face like I just took a dump on his mother, and since he’s right there, I made sure to ‘accidentally on-purpose’ catch him on the muzzle with my elbow on the way down, if you know what I mean!” Gridiron waggled his eyebrows as Cheerilee looked at her watch. “So he goes down, and the ref blows the whistle, and I’m just there, all innocent-like, tellin’ them that I can’t control where I land.”

“Uh-huh,” Cheerilee said, checking her watch again. Somehow, only five seconds had passed.

“Well, they reviewed the play, and you know refs. They’re all runnin’ around tellin’ each other that the other guy's wrong, and meanwhile, I’m just over there talking to this smokin’ hot cheerleader that the franchise just hired! Oh my god, you should see her!” Gridiron whistled shrilly, tracing the form of a voluptuous mare in the air with his hooves. Cheerilee felt the bit of salad that she’d managed to eat fight to rise from her stomach. “Anyway, they rule it in my favor, and we line up again—”

“You know, I hate to interrupt, but I’ve got to go powder my nose,” Cheerilee said, wincing as the other patrons stared at them. She’d been trying, unsuccessfully, to get Gridiron to lower his booming voice, but he’d been too caught up in his story to pay any attention.

“Oh, I don’t know if you wanna do that!” he said, bursting into a braying laugh. “This joint’s only got one can, and I kinda destroyed it when I went in there like twenty minutes ago.”

Cheerilee fondly remembered those few minutes alone, and was deeply regretting not making a run for it when she’d had the chance.

“You ever have one of those times in there where it feels like it’s gonna tear your flank in two?" Gridiron continued, picking a crouton off of her plate. Leaning back, he flicked the crouton into the air, catching it in his mouth. "It’s like a war. Just you and the turd, fighting it out to see who’s gonna win! It was like that, and, well, it was pretty unflushable. I just left it in there. It was kinda like art, anyway. Ponies are gonna see that and just bug out, ya know?” Gridiron rocked back in his chair and roared with laugher again. “I shoulda signed it or somethin’! Maybe I can get them to hang a plaque!”

Cheerilee desperately scanned the tavern as the Gridiron leaned his head back, nearly crimson from laughing so hard. She briefly caught the eye of the waiter, but after a momentary flash of pity, he put his head down and disappeared through a door into the kitchen. At the other end of the bar, she noticed that the bartender had moved as far away from them as possible and was busying himself with cleaning the already spotless highball glasses.

“You know, I think I’ll go get us some drinks!” Cheerilee said, rising quickly and trotting to the end of the bar before Gridiron could protest. The bartender eyed her warily as she approached.

“I need two of your most complicated, time-consuming drinks!” she whispered to him.

“Hey, grab me a beer, will you?” Gridiron shouted from the table.

“Ignore that,” she said, wincing. “I don’t care if you have to invent something, as long as it takes,” Cheerilee checked her watch again, “at least half an hour to make!” Cheerilee felt her heart drop as the bartender’s eyes slid to her right.

“Yeah, I figure we could just hang out here at the bar from now on anyway,” Gridiron said, pulling out a stool and dropping heavily onto it. “Gimme a beer,” he said absently to the bartender.

“Uh, what kind?” the bartender said, reaching for a pint glass. “We’ve got a pilsner from—”

“Do I look like some kinda stupid mare to you?” Gridiron snapped. “Find me a dopplebock! Light beer is for pansy-stallions!”

“Oh, I do think I have a keg of doppelbock way, way, way in the back, somewhere. It might take a little while to find,” the bartender said, pursing his lips as he disappeared into the kitchen. Cheerilee stared after him with undisguised envy.

“Good idea, babe!” Gridiron said, leaning to one side to aggressively scratch his flank. “I like it when a mare gets a few drinks in her! My dad had it right. He always said ‘fermented wheat puts the mares in heat!'” Gridiron exploded into laughter again, banging his hoof on the bar.

Okay, enough is enough! Cheerilee thought. I can’t stand this cretin any longer! Clearing her throat, Cheerilee began fixing her saddlebags into place. “You know, I’ve had… ah… quite a night, but I’ve got to get going! I’ve got to get up bright and early for the foals!”

“Hey!” Gridiron said, frowning. “You can’t just up and leave like this!”

“Oh, I’m afraid I can, and I will!” Cheerilee snapped, dropping all pretense of politeness. “I think we’re done here.”

“Well, you’re gonna settle up the bill, right?” Gridiron said as Cheerilee made for the exit. “I didn’t bring any bits with me. Hey, come back here!”

Date Five - Striking It Rich

“Like, what are you doing here?” Diamond Tiara said as she opened the door.

Cheerilee smiled. She had a sixth sense when it came to the inner workings of the foalish mind, and right now, she knew that Diamond Tiara was ticking through every recent misbehavior. Cheerilee fought to suppress a grin as her student desperately tried to figure out a way to get out of this mess.

“Well, actually, I’m here to see your father,” Cheerilee said. “He’s expecting me.”

Diamond Tiara grimaced, looking over her shoulder quickly, and then back to her teacher. “Um, he’s busy!” she said quickly, moving to shut the door. “He’ll probably be busy all night with work and stuff, but I’ll tell him you came by!”

“Diamond, is that Ms. Cheerilee?” Filthy’s deep voice called from somewhere within the vast mansion. Cheerilee covered her grin with a hoof as the foal winced. “Show her in here, please.”

“Um, come in, I guess,” the foal said, hanging her head. Dragging her hooves, she led Cheerilee through the opulent foyer and down a richly appointed hallway. Finally, after Diamond swallowed loudly, Cheerilee couldn’t bear to twist the hoofscrews any longer.

“You know, Diamond,” she said, tilting her head down toward the glum foal, “I’m not here to talk about school.”

“Oh, really?” Diamond said, perking up briefly before tilting her head and cocking an eyebrow. “Then, like, why are you here?”

“Like I said before, I’m here to see your father,” Cheerilee said brightly as she grinned. She had a good feeling this time. Filthy Rich was a well-respected professional, and not hard on the eyes. Cheerilee had been thrilled when they’d bumped into each other in town and he’d asked her over for dinner.

After staring at her teacher for a few seconds, Diamond Tiara shrugged and continued down the hallway. “He’s in here,” she said, pushing open a polished mahogany door.

“Ah, Cheerilee!” Filthy said, rising from his office chair to shake Cheerilee’s hoof warmly. “Always a pleasure. Please, have a seat.” The stallion opened a cabinet behind him and pulled out a decanter. “Cognac?” he asked, placing two snifters on his desk.

“Oh, I don’t…” Cheerilee said, watching as Filthy filled the glasses, swirling the amber liquid in each. “Well, maybe just this once!” she finished, taking the snifter. It smelled heavenly.

“I brought that back from Prance last time I visited,” Filthy said, taking a sip. “Mmm, excellent. That’s what eight hundred bits a bottle will get you there.”

Cheerilee choked, coughing as she goggled at the businesspony.

“Now, now!” Filthy laughed. “Don’t be concerned. That same bottle would be two thousand bits here! Why do you think I went all the way to Prance? It was practically a bargain!”

“Oh, Filthy, I had no idea!” Cheerilee said, eyeing the glass hesitantly. The cognac had suddenly lost some of its appeal. She couldn't remember the last time she'd spent eight hundred bits on anything.

“Yes, I love a good bargain! I'm sure you do, too!” Filthy chuckled, refilling her snifter. “In fact, let me show you something else.” Filthy opened a desk drawer, pulling out several glossy brochures and sliding them across the desk to Cheerilee. “Have you ever heard of Amneigh?”

Cheerilee frowned as she opened the pamphlets. “The pyramid scheme?” she replied, eyeing Filthy warily.

“Oh, Cheerilee. Cheerilee,” Filthy tsked. “Pyramid scheme? Hardly. Amneigh is Equestria’s premiere cosmetics and sundries company! Why, just take a look at these deals! I’m sure that a pretty mare like you could find hundreds of items that you’d find to be—”

“Dad!” Diamond Tiara said from the doorway, causing both Filthy and Cheerilee to jump. “Hello! She’s a teacher! It’s not like she has any money!”

“Diamond, why don’t you go see what Silver Spoon is up to, okay?” Filthy replied, refilling his glass. “Be back in an hour for dinner.”

“Fine, whatever…”

“Kids,” Filthy chuckled, shrugging. “What are you gonna do?”

Cheerilee forced a smile, politely scanning the brochures momentarily before pushing them back across the desk. “Ah, thank you, but—”

“No, no, no!” Filthy cried. “That’s not all that Amneigh is about!” The stallion leapt up, circling the desk to flip the pamphlet over. “I’m going to get straight to the heart of the matter. You could use some supplemental income, couldn’t you?”

Cheerilee’s eyes darts back and forth briefly before she opened her mouth. “Ah—”

“No, don’t answer that!” Filthy cut in. “We could all use a little bit more, eh?” He elbowed Cheerilee in the side. “You see, Amneigh is also a powerful tool in the hooves of the right mare, and I think that mare could be you.” Filthy threw his leg around her shoulder, sweeping the other in front of them expansively. “Just imagine yourself, leading a team of trained sales professionals, and for each of them you take ten percent off the top! Why, in no time at all, you’ll be able to afford—”

“Mr. Rich!” Cheerilee said, batting his hoof from her shoulder. “Are you telling me that you've invited me over for dinner so that you can try and recruit me into this…” She picked up a brochure and let it drop back to the table. “… business of yours?”

“No, of course not!” Filthy said, returning to his seat. “I apologize! Terribly rude of me! Plus, Barnyard Bargains is my real business! Amneigh’s merely something I have on the side.”

Cheerilee crossed her legs and looked away.

“I deserve that,” Filthy said mildly. “Sometimes I do get a bit carried away. I spend too much time at the office.” Leaning over his desk, he offered the teacher a sheepish smile. “Could we start again?”

“I suppose,” Cheerilee sighed.

Filthy cleared his throat. “Honestly, I wanted to get to know you better,” he said. “It’s been several years since my wife passed…” Cheerilee loosened her tightly crossed legs as he swallowed hard. “I think it’s finally time to move on,” he finished.

“We were all very sorry,” Cheerilee said as the stallion’s eyes welled a bit. “I know how tough it was on Diamond.”

“Yes, but let’s not dwell on that,” Filthy said, opening another drawer. Cheerilee’s brow furrowed as he rifled through several file folders. “Ah, here it is!” he cried, sliding the paper over to Cheerilee. “If you could just fill that out, please.”

“'Application for Temporary Courtship with an Option for Permanency (Pending Evaluation)'?” Cheerilee read, her mouth hanging open as she looked back to the pleased businesspony. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Not at all!” he said, grinning. “I’m getting a nice pool of applicants. Lyra was in here just yesterday!”

“Thank you for the lovely drink,” Cheerilee said, rising and walking to the door.

“Hold on a minute!” Filthy called after her. “Don't you want to hear about the flexible hours and the generous benefits package?! Wait!”

Date Six - What The Duck?!

Cheerilee broke into a cold sweat as she backed away from the line of menacing ducks. “What exactly is going on here?” she said quietly to the cringing stallion.

“You didn’t say anything about a pond!” Summer Blaze whispered, his eyes wild. As three more ducks landed nearby, he skipped back, ramming his rump painfully into a tree.

“Why in Equestria would I?!” Cheerilee shot back, trembling as the ducks began to advance. “We were going on a scenic walk! The pond is beautiful!” To her left, a duck pulled out a small whetstone, running it along the edge of its bill. The swick-swick sound the stone made sent a shiver up the mare’s spine. “Usually,” she finished quietly.

“Look, I just got into some trouble with ducks a while back,” Summer Blaze said, his voice quivering. “It’s nothing, really. Just a misunderstanding, but you try telling that to a bunch of ducks!”

Cheerilee felt the familiar pressure building behind her eyes. Until a few moments ago, the date had been going so well that it was almost a relief when the ducks had suddenly landed all around them, encircling the pair and terrifying them with a cacophony of menacing quacks. Why would I expect anything different? Cheerilee thought, sighing.

“We’re gonna have to make a break for it,” Summer said, scanning the line of foul-tempered fowl for a weak link. “If they catch us, we’re done for!”

“Why am I done for?!” Cheerilee hissed. “You’re the one who’s apparently double-crossed the ducks! What does it have to do with me?!” She winced as the mallard before her raised its webbed foot. A nearby pochard curled his foot into a fist, slamming it into the mallard’s outstretched appendage. As they ground fist into palm, the mallard squeezed, cracking the pochard’s knuckles while they both stared at the mare with malice.

“They aren’t going to care!” Summer said, swallowing hard. “It’s guilt by association with these guys.”

“S-so what are we going to—aah!” Cheerilee said, skipping away as a duck lunged in, pecking aggressively at her hoof.

“No choice!” Summer Blaze said, rearing. “We’re gonna have to run for it!” Snarling, the stallion lowered his head and charged the line of ducks. As they scattered, several surrounded him, pecking Summer viciously and tearing out chucks of mane. The rest took to the air, diving at Cheerilee.

Squeezing her eyes tightly closed, Cheerilee screamed as she shot after the stallion. All around her, she could smell the pungent aroma of unwashed feathers and blood. Sweet Celestia, what have I gotten myself into this time?! she thought as she risked cracking an eye open.

She regretted it immediately as a duck rose directly in front of her, stabbing at her face rapidly with its blood-flecked bill. Shrieking, she reared and swatted the duck with her hooves, wincing at the sound of breaking feathers as it spiraled into a nearby bush.

Several strides ahead of her, Summer Blaze leapt erratically, attempting to dodge the multitude of angry anatidae that bedeviled him. “Quick, in here—argh!” he shouted as a pecten latched onto his ear. Spinning, Summer slammed his rear hooves into the door of the park’s tool shed. “We’ll be done for if we stay out here in the open!”

Too frightened to respond, Cheerilee poured on as much speed as she could muster and dove into the tiny shack, shivering and bleeding from several painful nips. Summer leaned against the door, forcing it closed as the weight of several dozen ducks slammed into the other side. With a grunt, he pushed it closed, pressing his body against the door. Cheerilee pointed with a shaking hoof at the flapping wings caught between the door and the jamb. Grimacing, Summer Blaze opened the door a hair as she poked at the wings with a rake, forcing them outside. Both ponies shrank from the horrible quacking that surrounded the half-rotten wooden structure.

“Grab those bags of fertilizer!” Summer said, pointing into the corner behind Cheerilee. “I broke the lock when I kicked the door open. We’ll use the bags as a brace!”

Grunting, Cheerilee curled her hooves around the rough seam of the closest burlap sack, straining to wrestle the heavy bag into position. Summer Blaze’s muscles stood out from his neck as he fought to keep the door closed. On the other side, the ducks were rhythmically slamming into the door over and over; an avian battering ram. With a shout, Cheerilee lifted the bag, heaving it the last few feet before returning for another.

“I just can’t believe this,” Summer Blaze muttered, pressing the heavy bag against the door. With its additional weight, the ducks were making far less of an impact. “Of all the places we could have gone, we ended up at a pond.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know you’d make enemies with every duck in Equestria?” Cheerilee growled as she dragged a second bag across the dirt floor.

“It’s not your fault,” Summer sighed. “You couldn’t… It’s… I don’t even know where to start.”

“Find a place,” the mare said, groaning as she heaved the second back onto the first. Wiping her brow, she stared at the stallion until he looked away, embarrassed. “If I’m going to be trapped in a smelly tool shed, surrounded by blood-thirsty ducks, I should at least know why!”

“Well, the truth is that I don’t even know why, exactly,” the stallion said, hissing as he probed some of his deeper wounds to check the damage.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Cheerilee cried, waving her hooves above her head. “How can you get attacked by ducks everywhere you go and not know how it started?!”

“Look, I’m not exactly fluent in Duck, okay?!” he shot back, rising to his hooves again. “I just don’t know for sure.” Both ponies cringed as the ducks hit the door with greater force, and Summer Blaze hopped on the stack of fertilizer, pressing his back against the door. Cheerilee skipped nervously into the center of the room as the ducks began to stare in from the gaps in between the walls' wooden planks.

“Well, you’ve got to have some theory!” Cheerilee said as her eyes rolled slowly up to the ceiling. The tin roof was groaning from the weight of who knew how many webbed feet.

“It all goes back to bread crumbs,” the stallion said.

“Excuse me?” Cheerilee said, blinking.

“I was at this lake in Detrot several years ago, and there were all these bags of bread crumbs just sitting around!” he replied, leaning his head back against the door and wearily closing his eyes. “None of the ducks were even touching them. Just bags and bags of delicious crumbs.”

“You’re telling me that you ate all the ducks' crumbs and now they hate you?” Cheerilee said skeptically.

“No,” Summer said, shaking his head. “Well, yes, but that’s not the whole story.” The stallion rested his forehead in a hoof. “Look, I just really like bread, okay?” he said, gazing across at Cheerilee with an eye rimmed with fatigue. “When I saw all those bags, I just went nuts! How was I supposed to know it was supposed to be a peace offering between the warring duck and geese gangs?! I mean, who’s even heard of that?! The geese stomped off and the ducks declared some sort of vendetta on me.”

“What?!” Cheerilee shouted. “If you think I’m going to believe—”

“Look out there, will you?!” Summer Blaze shouted back, pointing his hoof to where a duck was trying to force its bill through an especially large crack in the wall. “I know it’s insane, but these ducks are serious!” Summer dropped his head back into his hooves. “It’s been hell…”

“If you want to know hell, buster,” Cheerilee said, rubbing the aching space between her eyes, “you should try getting a decent date in this town!”

Date Seven - The Will to Succeed

“So, you’re Ponyville’s teacher, then?” Dusty said, spearing a potato with his fork. “You must really enjoy foals, huh?”

“Oh, my, yes!” Cheerilee answered, breaking another piece of the restaurant’s delicious bread off from the loaf the waiter had left at the table. “Each one's so full of potential! It’s almost like a puzzle, you know? You have to examine each one to find out just what makes them tick and use that to help them grow.”

“I just find that so admirable,” Dusty said, dabbing at the corner of his mouth with his napkin. “Ponies today are so caught up what they’re doing that they never take the time to help the next generation.”

Cheerilee beamed. Oh, he’s so caring! she thought as she chewed on her delicately sautéed wheat stalks. She’d been worried when he’d asked her out, since her love life had been so… turbulent, but the night had been wonderful. Keep it up, buddy! she thought. You’ve just about got date two on lockdown.

Dusty signaled to the waiter. “Would you mind bringing us another bottle of this wine? It’s excellent.”

“Of course, sir,” the waiter answered, trotting briskly off.

“So, what brings you to Ponyville?” Cheerilee said, swirling her glass before tipping it back and draining in the last of the marelot. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before?”

“I’m looking for work,” the stallion said, shrugging ruefully. “I’ve been living off of savings for the last eight months, but I’m starting to get desperate. I can’t find—”

“STOP RIGHT THERE!” a voice thundered, causing Cheerilee and Dusty to jump in unison. “You’ve shot yourself in the hoof, and only Iron Will can save your chances for a night of love!

“What?!” Cheerilee said, her hoof pressed firmly against her chest to still the rapid beating of her heart.

“What are you doing here?” Dusty hissed, glaring at the minotaur.

“Saving you,” Iron Will returned, thrusting his enormous face directly into Dusty’s, “from future nights of celibacy! As agreed, I’m here to coach you! To mold you into…” Iron Will placed his hands on his hips, thrusting his pelvis forward in rapid succession. “… an irresistible stud! Your bits paid for the secrets to get laid, and I promise to deliver!”

“What is going on here?” Cheerilee said icily, burning a hole into Dusty with her eyes.

“I… heh-heh… I have no idea!” Dusty replied, sweating profusely and scratching his mane.

“Rule one!” Iron Will thundered, drawing the attention of the few restaurant patrons that hadn’t yet stopped eating. “You won’t get flank with an empty bank! Never admit that you are unemployed!” Iron will leaned over the table, tapping the furiously blushing stallion in the chest. “You were doing well. You were a polite, pleasant, conversation machine, but your poor decision sent this date into a tailspin!” Iron Will spun suddenly, looming over Cheerilee. “I could see it! This mare was about to send you trotting to the doghouse!”

“Would you get—” Dusty yelled to the minotaur, before turning to Cheerilee. “I don’t know what—”

“Paid for the secrets to get laid?” Cheerilee said frostily as she crossed her legs over her chest.

“That’s right!” Iron Will shouted. “This stallion’s on a two year dry spell, and desperate times call for expert advice! Iron Will’s course on seduction is money well spent. A bankable program that has mares putting their socks on for stallions all over Equestria!” Jumping on the table, Iron Will pointed to Dusty, who had slumped so far down into his seat that his eyes were barely visible above the tabletop. “Down to his last bits, this stallion had the sense to spend them wisely. Iron Will guarantees results!”

“Oh, I don’t think this one will be getting the ‘results’ he was looking for!” Cheerilee spat, tossing her napkin down on the table before hopping out of her seat. “I think you’re going to have to give his bits back!” Cheerilee shot a withering glance Dusty’s way and he shrank down in his seat another inch.

“This is all your fault!” Dusty growled at the minotaur. “She was warming up. I almost had her!”

“How dare—” Cheerilee began, snarling.

“My course guarantees nothing less than third base within three mares,” Iron Will shouted, plucking the stallion from his seat and holding him several feet above the floor, “and you struck out! We’re moving on to your next at bat!”

“You were supposed to review this stuff with me after the date!” Dusty cried, kicking his hooves futilely over the restaurant’s hardwood floor.

“Time is bits,” Iron Will shouted. “You didn’t know it yet, but the date was over the minute you said you were an unemployed lowlife! If the mare’s turned cold, it’s time to fold!” Iron Will pivoted on his hoof, thrusting Dusty at the fuming teacher. “Is this the kind of stallion you’d give the time of day to?” he asked.

“Now that you mention it? No,” she replied, scooping her saddlebags from beneath the table.

“No, this isn’t what it looks like!” Dusty said, wiggling.

Cheerilee answered with a half-lidded stare.

“Well, okay,” the stallion said, hanging his head, “It is, but I didn’t mean for it to go this way.”

“Oh, I think I see how you meant for it to go!” Cheerilee replied acidly. “Good thing you have an expert to guide you!” Cheerilee swept her hoof in front of her, drawing Dusty’s attention to the cool expressions around the restaurant. “I’d say you're going to need some good advice for getting future dates in this town.”

“You see?!” Iron Will thundered, tucking the grimacing stallion under his arm as he strode out of the restaurant. “You’ve got a lot to learn about the female psyche, but one strike doesn’t end the season! If you’d followed my course to the letter, that mare would have been dessert! Instead, you’re having humble pie!”

“Been his dessert!” Cheerilee muttered, moving to leave. “In your dreams, buddy!”

“Madam?” the waiter said, trotting up to the table, “I’m sorry to have to bring it up, but will you be settling the bill?”

Date Eight - The Deepest, Darkest Date

“Look, all I’m saying is that I took a chance on you!” Cheerilee said through clenched teeth. “I don’t normally date mares, you know. I’m taking a big risk here. It would be nice if you’d do the same!”

Daring tried to stretch out her wing, but her knees buckled as she attempted to flap. “Looks like I’m grounded again. How does that always happen?” Approaching slowly, Daring Do eyed the quicksand, dipping her front hoof into the slimy pool. “Brrr!” she said, shivering. “It’s… kinda cold.”

Cheerilee thrashed a bit, managing only to sink in further. “You don’t say?” she replied, giving the adventurer a flat stare. “I would’ve never known.”

“Look, I’m sorry!” Daring said, pacing back and forth fretfully. “It’s just… well… I have this thing about quicksand. It makes my skin crawl!” Daring began fishing through her explorer’s knapsack. “If I could just find that map, I could go get you some help!” she muttered, tossing items aside in the hunt. Cheerilee winced as a canteen, several days’ rations, and a compass bounced off of the nearby tree and rolled into the pool.

“You traded the map to those natives for the feathery head-dress two days ago!” Cheerilee yelled. “Perhaps you remember it? It’s when I was telling you that you were out of your mind!”

“Oh, yeah!” Daring said, perking up. “I love that thing! Look!” Daring scooped the mask out of her bag. Straightening a few bent feathers, she placed it on her head, leaping back and forth in a bizarre mockery of the tribe’s ritualistic dancing.

Cheerilee grimaced as she slid thigh deep into the muck. “Look, will you just throw me a vine or something?!” she cried. “You’re supposed to be taking me on an adventure- and romance-filled jungle tour, but so far, we’ve been nearly eaten by a tiger, attacked by crocodiles, had to eat bugs because you thought you’d lost the food, even though it was in your pack all along—”

“Oops!” Daring replied ruefully, lifting her pith helmet to scratch behind her ear.

“Which I might add just sank into the pool here!”

“Huh?” Daring replied. “When?”

“Just now!” Cheerilee shouted as she pointed to the spot. “Right there!”

“I don’t see anything,” Daring said, shrugging.

“Of course you don’t! That’s because it sank, never to be seen again! Just like I am, so get me out of here!”

“Look, I…” Daring said, waving a hoof vaguely at the lush vegetation. “I’m just not all that good at this jungle-y stuff.”

“What do you mean ‘you’re not good at it’?!” Cheerilee screeched as the quicksand slid up to her stomach. “You’re Equestria’s authority on exotic locales and dangerous situations!”

“I am?” Daring said, tilting her head to one side. “Since when?”

“Since you’ve had a long-running, best selling series of books written about your death-defying adventures!” Cheerilee said, wishing badly that she had something to throw at Daring Do.

“OH!” Daring said, breaking into a relieved grin. “You’ve got it all mixed up. I’m not that Daring Do. I’m from Las Pegasus. Ponies mix us up all the time.”

“WHAT?!” Cheerilee said, her eyes flying wide.

“Yeah, total coincidence. We’ve got the same name, and we look a lot alike, but I’m not her!” Daring frowned at Cheerilee “You know, you really should have made clear which Daring you wanted to go out with from the beginning. Now I’ve wasted five whole days.”

“You’re wearing a khaki shirt and a pith helmet! You wanted to go hang out in the jungle! Who else was I supposed to think it was?!”

“What, I can’t wear something because somepony else does?” Daring said, throwing her hoof wide. “Do you just go out onto the street and yell at everypony who’s wearing clothes you’ve seen somewhere else before?” Daring turned away, sniffing. “You sure are one critical mare!” Daring turned to glare at Cheerilee over her shoulder. “Plus you’re the one who was all ‘the jungle must be so fascinating!’ What was I supposed—”

“WOULD YOU JUST TOSS ME A VINE OR SOMETHING, PLEASE?!” Cheerilee screamed as the quicksand made its way up to her shoulders.

“Um, are you sure you want a vine?” Daring said, eyeing the nearby vegetation nervously.

“I DON’T CARE WHAT IT IS, AS LONG AS IT GETS ME OUT OF HERE!”

Daring picked up a small stick, poking at the vine. “It’s just that it might be a snake. Some of those snakes back in that cave we got trapped in were pretty sneaky. I’m not sure I would trust this thing.” She turned to Cheerilee, chewing on her lower lip. “What if it bites me or something?”

“It’s just a vine,” Cheerilee said, trying for calm where panic had failed to motivate. “See, it has leaves on it.”

“Oh, yeah!” Daring said, grinning widely. “You should be the jungle explorer!”

“Well, one of us has to be,” Cheerilee replied, gritting her teeth before whimpering. The quicksand was up to her neck. “Now, just throw it over here and we can get back to town and forget all about this and each other.”

“What if it has caterpillars on it?” Daring said, her voice quavering. “They totally creep me out.”

“That's it!” Cheerilee said, beginning to thrash in place. “I’m going to make it out of this quicksand, and then I’m going to throw you in here!”

“Hey, that’s no way to talk to a pony that’s trying to help you out!” Daring said in a hurt tone. “I could have just left you here, you know!”

“Yes, you could have left me here and gone to get some help!”

“But then I’d be lonely!” Daring said, her brow furrowing. “I hate being alone.”

“Yes,” Cheerilee said, lifting her chin as she sank further into the mire, “I can’t imagine why more ponies don’t love your company.”

“Well, if you’re going—”

Cheerilee missed the rest has her head finally slipped below the surface of the pool. She desperately kicked out in every direction, praying for some sort of purchase. No! I don't want to—

It was all that she could to do stop herself from taking a deep, steadying breath as her hooves sank into a thick layer of rotting leaves and clay. Step by step, she began climbing the shallow basin, trying not to think about her lungs as they screamed for air. If Daring Do has two brain cells to rub together, she'll be long gone by the time I get out of here! she thought, hoping that her head would break the surface soon. But then again, if she had any sense, I wouldn't be in this mess in the first place! As images of revenge flashed through her mind's eye, Cheerilee trudged on.

Date Nine - Pet Peeves

“Whoa, hey there!” Cheerilee called out as Sea Swirl nearly ran into her at a full gallop. “Watch where you’re going!” She frowned after the mare as she receded into the distance. “Some ponies…”

Shrugging, she turned back to Bell Curve. “So you’ve been collecting data in Saddle Arabia all this time?” Cheerilee asked as they strolled down the wide central street in Ponyville. It had been years since she’d last seen Bell Curve, and he’d only grown more handsome since their days at college together.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t believe it there,” he sighed. “The culture. The architecture. The opulent restaurants. It’s all so amazing, but then you’ll look right across the street, and there are literally ponies starving to death.”

“That’s terrible!” Cheerilee said, stopping to cover her heart with a hoof. “But surely—”

“Run!”

Cheerilee and Bell Curve nimbly stepped aside as Lily charged down the street. “What's going on?!” she called after the mare. “I think we might want to skip the café,” Cheerilee said to Bell, her brow furrowing.

“Yeah. Me, too…” he said, turning to watch as the mare scrambled to make the sharp turn around a corner. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here.” Bell and Cheerilee turned, trotting back the way they’d come. “Anyway, Princess Celestia wants a report as soon as she can get one detailing the wealth inequalities there. She doesn’t want trade relations with countries that are committing atrocities.”

“Well, I can certainly see—”

“It’s awful!”

“Run for your lives!”

Cheerilee grimaced, looking over her shoulder. Roseluck and Amethyst Star were nearing them at a flat out sprint, with a wide-eyed Applejack close behind.

“Y’all skedaddle!” Applejack called out. “This town’s gonna be overrun!”

Cheerilee and Bell Curve broke into a gallop, attempting to keep pace with the growing crowd of panicked ponies. “What’s happening?” Cheerilee yelled over the sound of pounding hooves.

“Fluttershy’s off her medication again!” Applejack called back over her shoulder. “Ah gotta go find Twilight, but until then, y’all need to head to whatever bolt-hole ya got. Lock the doors and don’t come out until we give the say so!”

“Medication?” Cheerilee said, arching an eyebrow at the farmer. “Medication for what?”

‘Shy’s got A.A.D.!” Applejack called back. She rolled her eyes as Cheerilee and Bell Curve stared back blankly. “Animal Adoptive Disorder! Usually, she’s fine because her medication keeps it in check, but her prescription’s run out and the pharmacist is outta town! She didn’t want to bother nopony, so she kept it to herself. Now, we've got a powerful mess on our hooves!”

“What are you talking about?!” Cheerilee called as Applejack pulled away from them with her powerful strides.

“If she sees you, she’ll try to make you take somethin’ home!” Applejack called back faintly. “She’s got more animals than Ah can corral by myself, and the farm’s too far away. Only Twilight can fix this!”

“Did you get any of that?” Bell asked.

“Oh, I get it, all right…” Cheerilee said, grimacing. WHY?! she thought, pursing her lips. Why can’t I just have one good day out with a stallion?!

“Well, clue me in, because—oof!”

Cheerilee’s hooves skidded on the cobblestones as she attempted to stop. Behind her, Bell had tripped on a saddlebag that somepony had dropped in the mad escape. Cheerilee ran back to help him up.

“I’m okay!” he said, shaking his head vigorously. “I just knocked myself…” Bell’s voice trailed off as his pupils shrank to pinpoints. He pointed behind Cheerilee with a trembling hoof.

Cheerilee slowly turned, her heart beginning to race as animals slowly filled the street, blocking the exits. Sad animals, with shimmering eyes the size of dinner plates. Eyes that spoke of longing and unfulfilled need.

“Look, Angel!” Fluttershy’s soft voice called from somewhere above them. “We’ve finally found some ponies that are ready to bring several dozen lonely animals into their homes!”

“Oh, Fluttershy!” Cheerilee said, laughing nervously as the circle of hopeful animals tightened. “I couldn’t possibly! I… I have the foals, and that’s about all I can handle.”

“Oh, but just look at them!” Fluttershy said, pointing to a small colony of elephant seals. “They want to be part of your family so desperately!” The male seal rose, trumpeting deafeningly through its enormous nose. “How could you possibly say no to that face?” Fluttershy said, grinning widely.

“Do… you know this pony?” Bell whispered behind his hoof.

“I’ve never seen her like this!” Cheerilee said quietly, turning in a small circle. There was no escape. Creatures of all varieties stuffed the streets, houses and rooftops. “Fluttershy’s usually so unassuming.” she continued as she began to tremble.

“Oh, I know!” Fluttershy said, her smile showing far too many teeth. “How about a duck?” The pegasus reached behind a flowerpot and pulled out a mallard, who glared at Cheerilee, pulling his wing across his throat menacingly. “I have several here who say that they can’t wait to spend some quality time with you alone!” Fluttershy patted the duck gently on the head. “Ducks are so sweet!”

“No!” Cheerilee yelled, her hooves slipping as she scrambled a few feet backward. “No ducks! I’m, ah… allergic!” she finished as Fluttershy frowned, lowering her ears.

“Look, here’s the deal,” Fluttershy growled, advancing on the pair. “You’re gonna take some animals, you got that?”

Bell and Cheerilee threw their legs around each other, shaking.

“I’ve got three hundred and sixty-eight snuggly, cuddly, wonderful animals here, just waiting for a home,” Fluttershy continued, her lips pulled back to snarl at the pair, “so that’s a hundred and eighty-four for each of you!” Fluttershy loomed over them, her enormous eyes gleaming with maniacal animal fervor. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint them…” she said quietly, sweeping her hoof wide, “would you?”

Cheerilee and Bell Curve followed hoof, trembling as they clung to each other. In all directions ostracized otters, excluded elephants, and ignored iguanas advanced on them, their faces filled with barely suppressed love.

“Cheerilee,” Bell whispered into her ear. “I-I’m going to create a diversion. I need you to try and make a break for it!”

“No!” Cheerilee said, gripping the stallion tightly. “I won’t leave you behind!”

“Look, we won't both make it,” he said, sweating as his fear-filled eyes scanned the horde of love-starved animals. “You’ve got ponies here who are depending on you. I-I’m just a lone stallion, making his way in the world. Nopony will miss me much.”

“That’s not true!” Cheerilee said, “I’ll—”

“Shh,” Bell said, cutting gently across her. “You know, you always were a cutie, Cheerilee,” he continued, planting a kiss between her eyes. “Run for it!”

Bell Curve flung her away. “I’ll take some pets!” he called.

And Cheerilee ran as hundreds of animals descended on the stallion. His screams from their collective hugging and snuggling echoed through the streets behind her.

Date Ten - It's All Relative (Guest Chapter by Eakin)

Guest Chapter written by Eakin

Cheerilee sashayed down the street humming a cheerful tune, skimpy blue evening dress swaying in time with her hips. At long last, things were beginning to look up. These last few months, and all the romantic disappointments they’d heaped on her, were in hindsight painful-but-necessary lessons in being more discerning. So when she’d seen the personal ad in the back of the newspaper that seemed too good to be true, her first instinct was to assume that’s just what it was. Still, she’d responded. Cautiously at first, with an anonymous letter sent through the paper’s editor. But then he’d written her back.

He’d admitted up front, and with good humor, that he’d been trying to put his best hoof forward in the ad. He was a few years older (‘but only a few!’) than he had initially suggested, but then again Cheerilee was only in her ‘early twenties’ under an extremely generous interpretation of the word ‘early.’ Cheerilee had almost put the letter down when he’d also admitted that he was on a tail end of a marriage that wasn’t doing so well, and both he and his wife had come to a friendly agreement to try seeing other ponies. But if those were the only nasty surprises, and he was willing to be upfront with her about them, they weren’t necessarily deal breakers.

Then she’d read the second half of the letter. Or more accurately, she’d read the third quarter of it, put it down to take a very long and very cold shower, then finally managed to get through the rest. Romantic without being eye-rollingly over the top. Suggestive and flirty without being crude. Well-written and eloquent without devolving into purple prose. Her trained teacher eye had read each paragraph three or four times (for proofreading purposes, of course) and hadn’t spotted one spelling or grammatical error. Even his penmanship was florid and refined. Maybe there was something to be said for more... experienced... stallions.

But Cheerilee had been let down after good first impressions before, so she decided to exchange a few more letters before making up her mind. That way if he turned out to be a creep after all she could just stop writing and he’d never even find out who she was. A few more letters passed back and forth through that newspaper office as the two became pen pals. He was a perfect gentlecolt, and her jaw had dropped open when he’d mentioned seeing his daughter at the school, her school in fact. That had alarmed her. What if this stallion was the father of one of the fillies she taught? Silver Spoon’s mother and father had seemed a little terse with one another at the last parent-teacher conference she’d held, although at the time she’d attributed that to the lecture she’d been delivering about their daughter’s behavioral troubles.

Cheerilee wrote half a letter asking who the filly was, but then crumpled it up and threw it away. She repeated the process three more times before forcing herself to step away from her writing desk and let the matter go. If it was a filly in her class, she didn’t trust herself not to treat her differently in the hopes of currying favor by proxy, or pressing them for personal details and giving the game away entirely. The question still gnawed at her, though, and at that point she made up her mind for certain; she was going to meet this pony.

The last letter she wrote, after three glasses of red wine, laid out in no uncertain terms just how interested she was. She nearly collapsed into an embarrassed giggling fit as she laced every sentence with erotic innuendo, stopping just short of straight-up smut. She wanted him to know, in no uncertain terms, that she was a mare of the world. A mare who knew her way around in the bedroom and just what she wanted from him, should he care to charm her over dinner the following weekend at a cafe Cheerilee had always wanted to try, but was saving for a special occasion. He’d recognize her by the white lily she’d have pinned to her chest.

She sent the letter and found herself repeatedly glancing out at the mailbox for the next three days, eagerly awaiting the mailmare and the news she might bring. After the third day without a reply, she began to doubt her decision. Had her letter been too risque? Had she stepped over the boundary of good taste and come across as some kind of slutty whorse? She turned the letter over and over in her head trying to remember the exact phrasing, the exact word choice, that she had used and if there might have been a better one she could have chosen instead. But on the fourth day her despair turned to excitement when she discovered a short note among the bills and junk mail she always received. When she tore it open, she was overjoyed to discover that, why yes, the stallion would be positively delighted to meet with her at the time and place she’d suggested. Just look over by the bar for the stallion with a rose sticking out of the pocket of his blazer.

So she walked, right on time, down the street towards the cafe. She gave in to the temptation to give a little hop in the air and clap her back hooves together before she landed again. How long had it been since the last time she’d felt this optimistic? Stepping into the upscale cafe, she passed under the glorious crystal chandelier and turned her jacket over to the coat check. She took out the carefully-wrapped white lily she’d spent a half-hour picking out that morning, ignoring the flower vendor’s increasingly-obvious impatience as she went back and forth looking for the perfect flower for the perfect night. Pinning it to the strap of her gown, she stepped over to the bar to meet her date.

The bar was crowded with stallions and mares laughing, flirting, and generally having a wonderful time together. She scanned the ponies for any sign of a rose, and then, at the other end of the bar, she spotted it. Their eyes met and they recognized one another at the same time, anticipation morphing into shock, and then horror.

“Dad?”

Date Eleven - The Scent of a Stallion

Cheerilee rocked backward in her chair as the stench hit her again. As her eyes watered, she pretended to wipe her mouth. It was just a momentarily relief, but for those few seconds, the smell of the freshly laundered cloth napkin was the sweetest perfume she’d ever experienced.

“So, like I said, when you work with balloons animals, you need lung power!” Punch Line said, knocking his hoof on the table for emphasis. “You have to be able to really blow! Like this!”

Cheerilee closed her eyes, holding her breath as he demonstrated. As her lungs cried for air, she wondered how long it was going to be until dessert arrived and his mouth would be occupied again. Trying to block it out, she still gagged as the noxious cloud enveloped her. Am I tasting it through my ears?! she thought, panic beginning to set in as her air ran out.

“And there’s lots of different balloons, you know!” he continued. “With those really round, big ones, you need do just push out as much air as you can, but with the long, thin ones, you really have to pucker up and—”

“You know, that dinner really left a weird aftertaste in my mouth,” Cheerilee coughed, reaching for her bag. “I think I’ll have a mint.” Rifling through her things, she finally pulled out the tin, pulling out two of the breath fresheners. “Here, you have one, too. I hate eating alone.” she said, winking.

“Oh, no thanks,” Punch Line said, pushing the mint back across the table. “I hate to say it, but I just can’t stand mint. But have you seen this?” Punch Line patted the pockets of his sport blazer, his face twisting up in confusion until he finally pulled out a large pack of chewing gum. “Confection Perfections makes gum now! I can’t get enough!” he said, laughing.

Leaning just close enough to pick the pack up, Cheerilee quickly tilted her head back, pretending to use the nearby light to read the packaging. “Garlic and Onion Blast,” she said, turning the pack over in her hooves. Finally, she looked back to the stallion. “Is this some kind of joke, because I don’t—”

“Not at all!” he exclaimed, curling Cheerilee’s nose hairs. “They just saw a market for savory gum. I chew this stuff all day!” Taking the pack back, he pulled a stick out and began to unwrap it. “You want a piece?”

“NO!” Cheerilee cried, throwing a hoof up. “I mean, desserts is almost here,” she said, lowering her voice as several tables turned to see what the commotion was. “We should probably wait for that, don’t you think?”

Punch Line frowned, then pushed the stick back into the pack. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he said, nodding. “It’s just that I love that stuff so much!”

“I can sm—see that,” Cheerilee replied, staring wistfully at the bouquet of fresh flowers at the table next to theirs. “You know, I’ll be right back,” she said, rising from the table. “I just need to visit the restroom.”

Trotting to the back of the restaurant, she pushed the door open and stared into the mirror. What’s wrong with me? she thought. I’m in pretty good shape. Leaning forward, she opened her eyes wide, tilting her head this way and that. No wrinkles. Cute manecut. She sighed and began washing her hooves, pumping the soap dispenser repeatedly. Of course, she thought, wanting to kick the dispenser off of the wall. Of course, it’s unscented.

“Hi, Cheerilee!" Lily said, trotting out of a stall. “I saw you over there when we came in but I didn’t want to interrupt. How’s your date going?”

Cheerilee just sighed, rolling her eyes.

“You, too?” Lily said, grinning ruefully. “What’s yours doing?”

“His breath could kill a moose at a hundred yards!” Cheerilee said, throwing her hooves in the air. “I’ve smelled skunks with more appeal!”

“Is that what the smell is?!” Lily gasped, covering her mouth with a hoof. “We’re by the window, and I thought it must be a dead animal outside.” Lily trotted over, rubbing Cheerilee’s shoulder comfortingly. “Well, it’s not just you,” she said, pursing her lips. “Mine keeps rubbing his hooves against mine under the table and licking his lips a lot. It’s really annoying.”

“Where do they pick this stuff up at?” Cheerilee said, “Where are all the normal stallions?”

“I dunno,” Lily said, stepping back out into the restaurant. “Tell me if you find one.”

Taking a deep breath, Cheerilee stared into the mirror again, steeling herself. Well, I have to go back sometime, she thought, opening the bathroom door.

The odor hit her immediately, and she fought to keep her dinner down. Around her, couples were wrinkling their noses, looking around in confusion, and asking each other what had died. Summoning the full extent of her willpower, Cheerilee slowly walked back to her table, where a slice of pie a la mode waited for her.

Opposite, Punch Line was digging into his dish with undisguised glee. He’d ordered the crème brulee, but it clearly wasn’t what the wait staff had brought, and the stallion was shoveling spoonful after spoonful of what seemed to be steaming hot death into his muzzle at an alarming rate.

Unable to help herself, Cheerilee wrapped her hoof tightly around her nose. “What is that?!” she cried, taking a few involuntary steps away.

“Well, I’m not really one for sweets,” he replied, licking the back of his spoon, “so while you were gone, I thought about it, and I just couldn’t pass up this place’s Curried Durian. I’ve really wanted to try it for a while now!” Punch Line lowered his head over the plate, inhaling deeply and sighing out a toxic cloud of gas. “I just had the waiter cancel the brulee and bring this.” Lifting the plate, he held it out to her. “You should really try some!”

Cheerilee bit her lip as the couple at the next table left a stack of bits and scampered out the nearest exit.

“I’m, ah… pretty full,” she said nasally, her hoof still squeezed tightly around her nose. “Actually, I hate to tell you this, but I’ve just remember that I’ve left the school’s heater on. If I don’t get over there, the mayor’s going to go ballistic.” Cheerilee started backing away from the table. “Thank you for an… evening.”

“What, already?” the stallion said, sounding bit hurt. “Well, can I at least get a kiss goodbye?”

Cheerilee ran as though her life depended on it.

Date Twelve - Just Hanging Around

“I’m so sorry,” Caramel said, pressing his hooves firmly against his forehead. The pressure was becoming intense.

“It's not your fault,” Cheerilee replied, sighing.

“I know,” Caramel said, grimacing. “But, if I hadn’t suggested an amusement park…”

“Look, don’t beat yourself up over it,” Cheerilee said, attempting to shift positions to relieve her aching shoulders. “It’s probably my fault, actually.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” Cheerilee answered, glancing down at the ponies running to and fro below them. “Never mind.”

Both ponies flinched as the vomiting began again. Somewhere behind them, somepony was alternately heaving and moaning pitifully. As the retching reached its crescendo, the workers below scurried out of the way, and what might have once been funnel cake splattered onto the asphalt path. The pony behind them began his litany of apologies again.

They’d been stuck upside down on this roller coaster for five hours now, and from the looks of the perplexed maintenance crews below them, they might be here quite a while longer. There seemed to be a lot of shouting and hoof-pointing going on; a lot of yelling about ‘impossibility’ and ‘unheard of.’

I could only wish it was ‘unheard of,’ Cheerilee thought, trying in vain to find somewhere to rest her pounding head. Sitting upside down on her shoulders, she’d begun to ache in ways that she didn’t think were possible. Maybe I should just get it over with and join a convent. It would certainly save everypony a lot of trouble.

“I can’t believe this,” Caramel said. “I mean, how does something like this even happen? It’s a roller coaster!” Caramel waved his legs at the track in front of them. “The whole point is that it coasts!” He turned as well as he could to Cheerilee, given the restrictive harnesses. “What would it even get stuck on?!”

“Mom, I can’t hold it anymore!” somepony cried behind them.

“Bramblehoof, don’t you—oh, Bramble…”

Cheerilee squeezed her eyes closed, wishing she could cover her ears as a large portion of the car cried out in disgust. The familiar gagging began immediately after, followed by yet more apologizing.

“I don’t know, Caramel,” she finally answered. Thinking was becoming very difficult.

“Are you ponies okay up there?” an amplified voice called from below. A stallion with a bullhorn and a hard hat had pulled a wooden crate from somewhere and was standing on it to address them.

“NO!” the trapped ponies called back in unison.

“Well, we just want you to know that we’re working on the problem and we’re having a unicorn bring you up some moist towelettes and free passes.”

“Why don’t you have the unicorns help us out of here!” Caramel screamed back.

“Sorry, buddy!” the stallion with the bullhorn said. “Union rules. Passengers trapped on rides must be rescued by the pegasi, and they’re on break.”

“On break?!” Caramel yelled, his eyes somehow bulging more than they had been previously. “We’ve been up here for hours!”

“Hey, it’s complicated, buddy!” the stallion said. “The contract states that the pegasi have every tenth Saturday off, but because of our labor policies, it must be designated as a twenty-four hour break, rather than PTO.” The stallion spread his hooves out beside him as the passengers began yelling. “It’s not like I control what the company and the union agree to.”

“Well, then who’s going to get us down?!” a voice yelled from behind them.

“Mom…” Bramblehoof said.

“What? You just went!” his mother said.

“No, I gotta do the other one…” Bramblehoof replied. “The pizza made my tummy hurt.”

“Look, you need to get us down!” Cheerilee snapped at the hard-hatted stallion. “We’ve got sick foals up here.”

“Believe me, lady, we’re working on it,” the stallion replied seriously. “We’ve had a full crew examining the union regs, and we have one or two hot leads that might pan out. If anyone has a full scale medical emergency, we can intervene.” He shielded his eyes with a hoof, searching the coaster’s passengers. “Any of you feeling, uh, heart attack-ish?”

“Yes!” Caramel yelled back. “I can feel my left leg going numb! Get us down!”

Two unicorns trotted up to the lead stallion. The first began whispering in his ear. The second opened a small white box and levitated several white squares out of it.

“So who wanted towelettes?” he called up to them, floating the wipes up to them until they were within reach. Without anything else to occupy her time, Cheerilee took one and cleaned her face and hooves with it.

“Sorry, buddy!” the head stallion called up. “My medical unicorn here says he doesn’t detect any significant evidence of arrhythmia or cardiac distress. But don’t worry, we’ve cut the chains on the doors to the park’s sub-sub basement storage facility, and volumes thirty-eight through fifty-five of the regs are rumored to be in there.” He offered the passengers a hopeful smile. “They haven’t been seen for fifty years, so who knows what loopholes we might find. This is really historic stuff!” The stallion skipped out of the way as the vomiter began again.

Caramel turned to Cheerilee again, his eyes filled with furious tears. “I’m so sorry!” he said again. “I-I just wanted to take you someplace really fun after last time!”

“I know,” Cheerilee answered softly. “Really, it’s not your fault.”

Below them, a pony covered in dust and cobwebs galloped up to the stallion with the bullhorn.

“Okay,” the lead stallion called to them again after a short conference. “It looks like we could get away with collapsing the ride and then picking all of you out of the rubble. My crew is allowed to rescue ponies that are on the ground. What’s the general consensus up there on that?”

“Have you lost your mind?!” Caramel yelled back. “Just get somepony up here and deal with the union later!”

“Look, you have to understand our position!” the lead stallion answered. “There are rules in place here! You can’t just go off half-cocked, rescuing anypony in trouble. There’s a system! Now, I’ve got a demolition crew on standby. Do you want to get rescued or not?”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Caramel said, rubbing his temples vigorously.

“I can,” Cheerilee replied. Reaching over, she grabbed the little bit of his hoof that she could reach. “But don’t worry about it. This happens all the time.”

Date Thirteen - Lepidopterrifying

Cheerilee slowed for a moment, falling behind the massive pegasus, and then trotting to his left side as he passed. She’d been walking in his shadow for several minutes, and she’d begun to get chilly. As the sun warmed her again, she turned her face to it, sighing happily.

“So… you work at the gym,” she said, cudgeling her brain for some topic of conversation that would engage the stallion. So far, Snowflake hasn’t proven himself to be a big talker. “What’s that like?”

“Huh?” the stallion said, his face crinkling as he slowly processed the question.

“Do you like working there?” Cheerilee asked slowly, enunciating each word carefully.

“YEAH!”

Cheerilee flinched, lowering her ears against the volume of his shout.

“Well, that’s nice,” she said, scanning the wooded path for anything that might spark some dialogue between the two of them. “Um, everypony should have a job that they like.” she finished, forcing a perkiness into her voice that she normally reserved only for foals.

“YEAH!” he replied, thrusting his hoof into the air.

“Could you lower the volume a bit?” Cheerilee asked, wincing. “Huh” and “YEAH” were almost all this stallion ever seemed to say, and his constant screaming was like a metal spike boring into her skull.

The stallion suddenly stood on his hide legs, stepping forward and flexing his impressive muscles until they threatened to burst from his skin. “YEAH!” he yelled into the heavens. “I mean, okay,” he said, as Cheerilee covered her ears with her hooves.

Oh, thank Celestia! He can talk! Cheerilee thought, massaging her temple. We're making progress.

Snowflake pulled up abruptly, his eyes slowly travelling left to right and back again. “The… gym,” he muttered. As Cheerilee opened her mouth to ask if everything was all right, he held up a hoof to silence her, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. “When I think of the gym, I think of...”

Cheerilee jumped as he leapt into the air, his tiny wings a blur as they somehow managed to haul his bulk from the ground. “Um… hold on, okay?” he said as he landed on a branch high above her head. It groaned under his considerable weight.

“What are you—”

“I just forgot… something…” he called down. Hidden by the leaves, she couldn’t tell what exactly he was up to, but he was making quite a racket. Several squirrels and small birds fled as branches splintered.

Sweet sisters, what now?! Cheerilee thought, rubbing her temples more vigorously.

“Okay, sorry” he said, plummeting several yards before his wings somehow managed to slow his descent. “Sorry, I just needed… um…” Landing, he looked away, biting his lip.

Cheerilee coughed as a cloud of cloying sweetness enveloped her. Stepping back, she took a few deep breaths.

“Uh…” Snowflake said, his face rapidly reddening.

“Did you just… douse yourself in cologne?” Cheerilee said, stretching her neck out to take another whiff. The huge stallion reeked of over-ripened fruit and tropical wildflowers. The teacher fought to keep from bursting out laughing as a butterfly landed on his nose.

“Well, I… um” Snowflake said, blowing the butterfly back into the air. “Well, I sorta sweat… a lot, and when you said that thing about the gym, I started thinking—” Snowflake stopped abruptly as the butterfly landed on his ear, then began crawling down his face. Eyes crossed, he watched as it walked between them before shaking his head vigorously to shoo it away. “Anyway,” he continued, flushing again, “I just—”

The stallion issued a low growl as several more butterflies landed on him, crawling across his fur and probing him with their long, sticky tongues. Cheerilee took a few steps backward as he shook himself like a dog. The butterflies took to the air briefly before landing on him again.

“Snowflake, what was that stuff?” Cheerilee said as several dozen butterflies flitted their way through the trees toward them.

“Dunno!” he replied, taking to the air as the butterflies attempted to land on him again. “Just some stuff I ordered. The magazine said it had phero-somethings that made ponies like you!” He winced, twisting and flailing above Cheerilee as a second grouping of butterflies arrived and landed on him.

“Well, stop panicking!” Cheerilee yelled up at him as she trotted back and forth. “They’re just butterflies.”

“No!” he bellowed. “They’re licking me, and they’ve got weird feet that are sticky or something!” Spinning rapidly, Snowflake threw the insects from him. Seconds later they reconverged, covering nearly half his body in a multi-colored swarm. “They feel all creepy!”

He looks like a living mosaic, Cheerilee thought, trying to come up with something to do that could help the poor stallion. She grimaced as more began filtering through the leaves above them. All around Cheerilee, butterflies of all shapes and sizes were arriving in ever-increasing numbers.

“Get ‘em off! Get ‘em off!” the stallion bellowed, falling to the ground and rolling. As he attempted to crush the insects, they took off, landing immediately again when he stopped.

“Snowflake, calm down!” Cheerilee cried, running to him. She swept her hoof through the sea of insects, but they either crawled out of the way or took to the air. An instant later, they reclaimed the area. “Just stay calm. It can’t hurt you!”

“They’re in my ears!” he shouted, swiveling his head violently. “They’re crawling up my nose!”

“Shoo! Get out of here!” Cheerilee yelled, jumping through the air and waving her hooves at the vast cloud of insects with little effect. “Snowflake, I think you’re going to have to run!” Cheerilee sighed, realizing the hopelessness of that suggestion as soon as she said it.

On the path before her, the pegasus sat, rubbing his face in an attempt to gain some sort of respite from the swarming butterflies. He’d rid himself of them just long enough to take a breath before they’d land again, now three levels deep.

I can’t even see him anymore! she thought, her breath coming in ragged gasps as panic began to set it. He’s in real trouble! Cheerilee scrambled in several different directions, before finally setting on the one that she thought would be the fastest route back to town. “J-just hold on!” she cried. “I’m going to get…”

Her words trailed away as the ball of butterflies began to slowly lift off the ground. Flapping in unison, they were several yards into the air before the teacher arrived. Leaping, she tried to grab where a leg might be, but she came away with nothing but a hoofful of delicate, multi-colored insects. As she watched the enormous cloud of butterflies ascend, she unconsciously released her hoof, allowing the last of the butterflies to join the swarm.

“Seriously?!” she yelled after them. “How am I even supposed to report something like this?!”

Date Fourteen - A Royal Pain in the Aft

Dear Princess Celestia,

I wanted to write to you and thank you for the wonderful time I had while I was at the palace last Friday. Twilight has told me many times that the cuisine the castle serves is Equestria’s finest, and I can happily report that I couldn't have enjoyed my meal more.

And speaking of Twilight, she’s been nudging all of us to write to you with “friendship reports.” It seems that she and her friends are so busy these days that they’ve struggled to meet some task that you’ve set for them. Twilight's been very concerned about it, so she asked the mayor to call an emergency city council meeting where we could all discuss the issue. There, she implored us to pick up where they had left off. I had no idea the ins and outs of friendship were so mysterious, but as a loyal citizen of Equestria, I wanted to do my part.

And I learned a great deal about friendship after your party.

You see, when I was seated next to your nephew, Prince Blueblood, I had thought that it must be some sort of mistake. I’m just an ordinary mare, after all, and here I was, surrounded by all of these dignitaries and an honest to goodness prince! It might be all old hat to you, your Majesty, but I had to pinch myself repeatedly to convince myself that I wasn't dreaming.

I’ll admit that I was a little apprehensive, though. You see, Rarity and I like to go out drinking from time to time, and she’s a little chilly when Blueblood’s name comes up. She says that a lady never speaks ill of her encounters, but that you were aware of the situation. Apparently a hoof-written apology from the prince was involved? She’s very cryptic about the whole thing.

However, I found your nephew to be pleasant company, and I was deeply moved when he asked me for a dance. Pardon me for saying this, but whatever else he might be, that stallion can move it on the dance floor! I hope you could see my smile as we passed you. I was in heaven.

When the dance was over, the prince asked me to walk with him through the garden. I’d like to apologize here for leaving your party early, but ordinary mares from Ponyville are not asked to stroll with princes very often, so I take whatever opportunities when I can get. You probably have to beat stallions off with a stick, but, well, I’m sorry if this is getting too personal, but I’m finding love to be a little challenging right now.

So we strolled through the palace’s absolutely exquisite garden and sat at a lovely gazebo overlooking the river. Prince Blueblood surprised me when he asked if he could weave flowers into my hair. I’m lucky that it was dark. I’m sure I was blushing furiously.

It was all so enchanting. The quarter-moon. The stars. The light breeze. I had flowers in my mane and he was so gentle and caring. I had to look away for a few seconds and regain my composure when the prince asked me if I’d like to go out onto the river with him. To be rowing by moonlight with a prince! He trotted back for a bottle of wine and then we went down to the dock.

Well, I was a little surprised when the boat turned out to have enchanted oars that did the rowing for him. I suppose I’m just old-fashioned that way, but he noted that he blisters easily. At least it gave us the opportunity to talk.

Not that we were talking for long. Shortly afterward, I started to feel somewhat strange, and your nephew began slowly creeping to the other end of the boat. Reaching up to feel my face, I could see that my hooves were covered in large welts. Panicking, I looked over the side into the water, and… my face! It was a swollen, lumpy horror!

All that I can think is that I must have been allergic to those flowers. My eyes were beginning to swell shut at that point, and I asked Blueblood if I could turn the boat around. He began yelling about monstrosities, and as he began retching, he somehow made the boat speed up instead of returning to the castle. I kept asking him to get me to a doctor, but he said that my ugliness unnerved him and that it was all he could do to keep from fainting.

I began ripping the flowers from my mane, which apparently he took great offense to. He said that I was removing them just to spite him; that I was purposefully casting away the only beauty left for him to look upon. Then he pulled the cork from the wine and downed the bottle. He said it was the only way that he could cope with the sight of me.

The oars were pulling at a breakneck pace by that point. The castle wasn’t even in sight anymore. I tried to get through to the prince that I was in trouble, but my tongue had swollen so badly that it just came out as a garbled mess. Your nephew valiantly took control of the situation by bursting into tears and hiding his face in his hooves.

Well, I needed to get through to him somehow, so I began crawling slowly across the boat, hoping that my mumbling would be more understandable if I was closer. I could barely see at that point and my joints were so inflamed that I was having great difficulty moving. I had to really work to make sure that the flailing oars didn’t brain me, but as I neared the prince, he screamed and jumped overboard. Last I saw of him, he was swimming for all he was worth to the shore. Maybe I should have followed, but my body was so useless that I was afraid that I would drown.

That was two days ago. As I write this, your nephew’s enchanted boat has taken me far out to sea. I last saw land several hours ago, though my sight is still quite blurry. I could be anywhere, really. It’s hard to tell. I’ve begun chewing my last stick of gum in hopes of fooling my stomach into believing that it’s food. That’s what it’s like being a teacher. You end up packing plenty of quills, ink and paper, but nothing to eat. So I’m writing this letter and I’ll be throwing it out in the wine bottle. I hope that it makes it to you somehow. If it's not too much trouble, I'd appreciate a search and rescue mission.

But back to friendship. Friendship is the basis for Equestrian society. I’ve taught that to foals for years and years, but I learned an important lesson last Friday: Friendship has its limits. Perhaps a lady never speaks ill of her encounters, but my father was a farmer. If I see your nephew again, I’m going to take a rake to him and show him exactly how un-ladylike a country girl can be!

Fearing for my life,

Cheerilee

Date Fifteen - Check, Please

Parallax squinted as he tried to make out the contents of the alarmingly long checklist that the mare was poring over. Earlier that day, he’d been pleasantly surprised that she’d been willing to meet at such a late hour, but now the darkness was making reading somewhat difficult. Concentrating, he sent a spark of magical energy to the tip of his horn, illuminating the list for them both.

“Ah, that’s much better!” Cheerilee said, giving him a brief smile. “Thank you!” Licking the tip of her quill, she began mumbling again. “Bandages? Check. Iodine? Check. Three weeks iron rations? Check.”

Parallax scanned the document. Written in print too small for him to make out clearly, it seemed to contain hundreds of items, the first ten of which had marks next to them. He checked his watch, grimacing. Ten-thirty! he thought. We need to get moving!

“Small inflatable raft? Check. Insect repellent? Check.”

“Ah, I don’t want to seem pushy,” Parallax said quietly, adjusting his glasses to sit more squarely on his muzzle, “but the comet's viewing window is only about two hours.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Cheerilee said, beaming. “Honestly, I’m tickled pink that you wanted to bring me to the observatory, but I just need to make sure I have a few necessary items.” Burying her nose in the list again, she muttered a few more times, occasionally rummaging around in the large cart she’d pulled with her. “Bolt cutters? Check. Breath mints? Check. Flare gun?” Cheerilee gasped, throwing items left and right as she dug through the cart.

“Well, but—” Parallax began, checking his watch again.

“Did you happen to bring a flare gun with you?!” Cheerilee said, her head erupting suddenly from beneath the piles of supplies.

“Why would I bring a flare gun?” Parallax said, tilting his head to one side.

“Oh, that’s just great!” Cheerilee answered, pounding her hoof onto the side of the cart. “Now I’ve got to go all the way back home!” Pulling herself free, she leapt out of the cart. “Would you mind watching this for me?” she asked, dusting herself off. “It’ll take a lot longer if I have to pull it all the way.”

“Look, I apologize if I’m being rude or obtuse, but why in the world do you need a flare gun so desperately?” Parallax said. “Or, any of this, really?” he added, poking his head over the cart’s sidewall.

“Look, you just don’t know when you’re going to need a flare gun,” Cheerilee said. “Trust me on this one. It’s a necessity.”

“But we’re just going into the observatory,” Parallax said, dropping his eyes and twisting his hooves nervously around one another. He’d been trying to work up the courage to ask Ponyville’s attractive schoolteacher out for months, and events weren’t exactly going as planned. Worse, he couldn’t quite figure out what was happening and he was afraid that he was missing something obvious. “I-I can assure you that it’s perfectly safe in there.”

“Oh, that’s what you think!” Cheerilee said, advancing on him with wild-eyes. “Yeah, that’s how it starts out, but then the telescope somehow explodes, or the stallion ends up not having a telescope in there at all! Instead, the place is stuffed with marmots that he wants you to groom with him for whatever reason!” Cheerilee put her hooves to her face, pulling down the area under her bulging eyes. “Anything at all could happen once I go in there, and for once, I’m going to be ready!”

Parallax blinked, and still at a loss for a polite response, he blinked again. “But... you can’t even fire a flare gun in there,” he finally said, backing away a few steps as she let her skin snap back into place. “There’s not nearly enough room. Besides, nopony would see it except us.”

“Hmmm, maybe you’re right…” Cheerilee said, putting a hoof to her chin. “Okay, we’ll just skip that one.” Picking up her list again, she drew a line through ‘flare gun’ and moved on. “Galoshes? Check. Shovel? Check.”

What to do, what to do? he thought, biting his lip. Without a doubt, this was the biggest opportunity of his dating life. Or, at least, he’d thought it would be. Everypony at the observatory thought Cheerilee was the hottest mare outside of the completely unobtainable Rarity and Twilight Sparkle. They’d all entertained the fantasy of dating the librarian, but after they’d found out that she spent half of her time with royalty, they’d all gone out for several stiff shots and moved on. By all accounts, Cheerilee was pleasant, funny, and smart. It also didn’t hurt that she was gorgeous.

Parallax had nearly fainted trying to work up the nerve to approach her, and he’d been shocked when she’d enthusiastically agreed to meet him for a star-watching date. He’d spent the entire day floating on cloud nine, while his colleagues alternated between high-hoofing him and complaining in mock irritation about his luck. But now that she’d arrived, he’d found her to be… distracted. I-I think she might be unwell, he thought as she aggressively checked off another few boxes.

“Thermite? Check. Multi-tool? Check”

Parallax cleared his throat. “Are you feeling okay, because—” he asked.

“Look, don’t get patronizing with me!” Cheerilee snapped, shooting him an annoyed glance. “I know how this looks, but you don’t know what it’s like! If you did, you’d be the one here with a list!” She leapt back into the cart, digging until she found a nautical map. “I was lost at sea for two weeks!” she cried, waving the map above her head. “I had to live off of bits of floating kelp, and I’m not going through that again!” She locked eyes with him, daring him to utter another word of protest. “I’ve battled blood-thirsty ducks and climbed out of volcanoes! I’ve been dragged through cakes and manure! I’ve watched a butterfly gang stallion-nap somepony for who knows what reason! So, yes, you bet your buttons I’m going into this thing prepared!”

Parallax sweated, finally dropping his gaze. Pulling out a small cloth, he plucked his glasses from his nose and busied himself with cleaning them. As Cheerilee disappeared back into the carts, he quietly opened the observatory door and stepped inside, lifting and lowering each hoof slowly so as to attract as little attention as possible. I must have the worst dating luck in all of Equestria, he thought sadly as he locked the door behind him.

Date Sixteen - A Vision of Loveliness

It was pleasantly warm in Zecora’s hut, and several small braziers hanging from the ceiling were filling the air with clouds of pungent smoke. Blinking, she fought to keep her eyes from sliding out of focus as she peered at the zebra through the haze. “Zecora, are you serious?” she said.

“Your dates may be getting worse, but it’s not a love life curse!” the zebra said, reclining on several large pillows and allowing her eyes to run the length of the teacher’s body. “If stallions cannot get you there, perhaps your heart cries for a mare.”

Cheerilee dropped her eyes, clasping her hooves tightly together. “But, I… I just don’t know,” Cheerilee said, biting her lip. “I mean, I experimented with mares in college, but, well, my family is so… traditional.”

Zecora took down a gourd and worked a small cork out of the hole that had been drilled into it. Rising from the plush cushions, she pulled two small stoneware cups from her cabinet. Humming, she poured the contents of the gourd into the glasses. “Excuse me for being blunt, but did the mares slake your want?”

Cheerilee swallowed hard, feeling the blood rushing to her face. “Well, yes,” she said, forcing the words out. “I, um, enjoyed the company of both stallions and mares.”

Zecora turned to look over her shoulder at the teacher, giving her a knowing half-smile.

“Quite a lot, actually!” the teacher blurted before covering her mouth with her hooves.

Cheerilee wasn’t used to speaking this frankly about her love life to any pony. She was really only here because Pinkie Pie had off-hoofedly mentioned that she must have picked up a curse somewhere along the way. At the time, Cheerilee had laughed it off, but that night, she’d been unable to sleep. Alone, in her cold, empty bed, she’d tossed and turned. Visions of evil enchantments filled her mind.

She’d told herself several times over the next few hours that she was being silly, but the image just wouldn’t leave her. When she finally did fall into a fretful sleep, her dreams were plagued with warlocks and devils, all bent on stopping her from meeting Mr. Right. As the light of the dawn crept into her room, she dragged herself out of bed and into the shower, vowing to visit the only one that seemed to know about such things: Zecora the Shaman.

As was usual these days, the trip had been as trying as possible. A recent storm had downed trees along the normal path, and Cheerilee had been forced to fight her way through the forest’s dense foliage, losing her bearings a few times and getting more than her share of cuts and bruises from the vast tangled mass of uncontrolled growth. Swearing, she’d wondered if her curse was beginning to spread farther than just her relationships. Finally, she’d stumbled onto the correct path again and within minutes she was knocking on the zebra's door.

Zecora had nodded sagely as Cheerilee outlined her problems. The teacher struggled at the beginning, trying to keep things clinical, but as the zebra listened, Cheerilee found herself pouring out her feelings. When the shaman had taken them seriously, she’d nearly cried with relief. Feeling something halfway between foolishness and hope, she sat as Zecora consulted several texts, searching for signs of poison or other spiritual maladies, but to no avail. Zecora pronounced her free of curses, but then probed into different, less comfortable areas of Cheerilee’s psyche. Through pointed questions, the zebra was bringing long-buried emotions and desires to the surface once more.

Replacing the gourd’s stopper, Zecora re-hung it and handed one of the stone cups to Cheerilee. It was filled with a deep red liquid, shot through with lighter bands of bright pink that seemed to glow faintly with their own light. Cautiously, Cheerilee sniffed the curling steam that rose from it. She couldn’t place the aroma, but it reminded her of open spaces and adventure. It smelled bold. "What is this?" she asked, swirling the liquid in her glass.

"Oh, it is what my mother serves to guests who have a case of nerves," Zecora said, smiling. "A draught that's used to calm the spirit, so that when truth speaks, you will hear it." Zecora tipped her cup back, draining it. "I'd asked for her to send some and it's just arrived from my homeland.

"Well, it smells heavenly!" Cheerilee said, watching the variegated liquid as it continued to slowly spin in her glass. "I guess I got lucky this time."

“When you take a second glance, you’ll find things are rarely chance,” the zebra said, sitting down next to Cheerilee. Leaning in close, Zecora smiled. “Yet this is only what I’ve guessed,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. Cheerilee gasped as Zecora ran a hoof lightly up her leg. “But we could put it to the test…”

As her heart began to pound and her hooves began to tremble, Cheerilee covered her nervousness with a long pull from the small cup the zebra had given her. As the silky liquid slid down her throat, she felt her muscles relax and the tension begin leave her. The flavor was wonderful, somehow warm and cool at the same time, and tasting of honey and berries. Draining the stone cup, she placed it on the nearby table and turned to take in the sultry zebra who’d become so forward all of a sudden. She’d never really realized how beautiful Zecora was before.

“You know,” Cheerilee said, relaxing as the liquid seemed to spread its glowing warmth through her, “I just might take you up—”

And suddenly, they were kissing. As Zecora pushed her down on the cushions, Cheerilee twisted her hoof into the zebra’s wiry mane, pulling her in closer. Cheerilee felt her heart begin to race again as she ran her other hoof along the sleek, muscled body.

As Zecora began to nip playfully at her neck, Cheerilee laughed weakly. “I’m an idiot, Zecora,” she said. “It’s so obvious! I can’t believe I didn’t think of this.”

Zecora ran her hoof down Cheerilee’s stomach, smiling as the teacher shivered. “The right path isn’t always clear,” she said, nuzzling the teacher. “Your heart will know…”

~~~

“What happened here?” Twilight said, waving her hoof in front of Cheerilee’s face and grimacing as it failed to change her glassy expression. Twilight frowned as a long line of drool that had been dangling from the teacher’s mouth finally broke off, dropping into a bowl that Zecora had put down on the floor with a wet plop. The alicorn gently poked and prodded the teacher, examining her many scrapes and scratches for signs of infection. As she ran her hoof down the mare’s stomach, Cheerilee trembled again, and her mouth turned up in a slight grin

“She must have been in quite a rush,” Zecora said, shaking her head as she felt Cheerilee’s brow. “I found her tangled in some brush. She trampled plants with psychotropic powers. The visions will have her for many more hours!”

Twilight fished out a spellbook from her pack, leafing rapidly through it. “Oh, there’s got to be something in here to cure this!” she muttered, her eyes a blur as she scanned each page quickly. Twilight looked up suddenly as the teacher gasped and her breathing quickened. “Poor Cheerilee!” she said, burying her face in the tome’s dusty pages once more. “I just hope that whatever she’s seeing isn’t too terrible!”

Zecora ran a hoof through Cheerilee’s mussed hair, trying to smooth it into place. “Soon, reality will be replacing whatever horrors she is facing. I’m sure she’ll be quite pleased when she has her life back again.”

Author's Note

For keam

Date Seventeen - A Jarring Experience

Cheerilee licked her lips nervously as she shifted from hoof to hoof. They’d only been out for an hour, and Pectin was already asking her to come back to his apartment. When he flashed his winning smile again, Cheerilee swallowed loudly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said with a little laugh. “I didn’t really think about how that sounded.”

“It was a little forward,” Cheerilee replied, grinning weakly.

“It’s just that, well, I have this…” Pectin’s voice trailed off as he looked away, twirling his hoof vaguely as he searched for the right words. “Oh, I don’t know how to put it.” Suddenly he grabbed Cheerilee’s hooves between his strong, grey ones, squeezing them gently as he stared deep into her eyes. “I’ve… I’ve found something! Something amazing!”

Cheerilee flicked her eyes left and right. Ponies passing by on the street were beginning to stop and grin. Oh, Sweet Celestia! she thought, sighing. They probably think he’s proposing!

“It’s totally changed my life, and I want to share it with everypony, starting with you!” he continued, grinning widely.

“Why me?” Cheerilee asked, pulling her hooves free. Nearby, several ponies groaned and continued on their way, disappointed.

“Well, why not you?” he replied. Throwing his hooves wide, he stood, turning slowly in a circle as he threw his head back. “I feel absolutely amazing, and I want you to feel the same way!” Pectin placed his hooves on her shoulders. “Believe me, this is worth it.”

“Uh…”

Pectin dropped his gaze, nodding as he bit his lip. “I’m sorry. I know this probably seems really weird right now. I’d feel the same way if I were you.” He sat, sighing. “I just can’t help it, though. I’ve never felt this way before.”

Is a little normalcy just too much to ask?! Cheerilee thought, her brow furrowing as the stallion continued to oscillate between a sort of bizarre, hyper-focused joy and shame-faced melancholy. Isn’t anypony just a regular Joe anymore?!

Thinking back, she supposed it might be her fault. She’d gone shopping and run into him by the fruit stall. Literally. She’d been so absorbed in checking items off of her list that she trotted face first into his side, bruising her muzzle and splattering him with ink.

She’d begun to apologize immediately, but was surprised to find that he hadn’t seemed to notice. He’d had an orange in one hoof and had been turning it over and over, inspecting every inch of it. She’d contemplated just walking away, but she’d felt terrible about the ink and he was rather handsome.

Finally, after several seconds of tapping him on the shoulder, she’d managed to draw his attention from the fruit. She’d been relieved that he laughed the incident off, and she’d been taken by his easy-going nature. When he asked what she was doing later, she’d leapt at the chance.

When will I learn? she thought as stallion turned back to her.

“Look, I promise this isn’t some ploy to get you into my bedroom,” he said, his expression earnest as he rose to his feet again. “I just think this will change your life for the better, like it has mine!”

“Well, what is it that we are talking about?” Cheerilee said, growing impatient. “You’ve been alluding to whatever this is for almost half an hour, and to tell you the truth, it sounds pretty fishy!”

“I know, I know!” he said mournfully. “That’s because it’s not something you can really describe. You’ve got to see it. You’ve got to experience it!”

Cheerilee sighed again, shaking her head. Well, you have to take some chances in life, right? she thought. It can’t be worse than being trapped in a volcano. Rising, she dusted herself off and squared her shoulders. “Okay, show me whatever this is.”

The stallion ran rapidly in place for a few seconds, grinning. “You won’t regret this!” he cried, his voice traveling a few octaves up the register. “It’s the greatest thing ever!”

~~~

Cheerilee wrenched her head away from the door as the cloyingly sweet scent of fruit and sugar erupted from the house. Beside her, Pectin leaned into the wind, smiling beatifically as the candy-scented breeze blew through his hair. Reaching inside, he flipped the nearby light switch.

“What in Equestria?” Cheerilee said, shying away. As her pupils shrank to mere pinpoints, she scanned the room, turning occasionally back to Pectin. “Is this some sort of joke?”

Inside, the room was filled with rows and rows of gigantic jars, each filled with a different jam or preserve.

“Isn’t it amazing?!” Pectin cried, bounding into the house. “So which do you want to try first?! I suggest the marmalade, but maybe it’s a little bitter for a newbie! Perhaps this lemon curd!” He turned suddenly and began clambering up the side of a jar labeled as blackberry. “Oh, just pick any of them, really! They’re all fantastic!”

Cheerilee stood, frozen. Part of her wanted to run as quickly as she could from this, but she found herself hesitating, held by a morbid fascination. “What is going on here?” she asked in a small, stunned voice.

Pectin lifted himself over the lip of the jar. For a moment, he stood there, grinning manically at the schoolteacher before stepping into the jar. As his body sank into the slurry, he cried out in ecstasy.

“Oh! Oh, Cheerilee!” he yelled, thrashing inside the jar. “I’m in the jam! I am the jam!” As his head lolled from side to side, Cheerilee could see that his eyes had entirely rolled back. “I’m a blackberry! I’m just a little blackberry in a sea of sticky syrup!”

Cheerilee jumped as Pectin slammed his body forcefully into the glass wall, grinding against it. For a brief moment, he disappeared, then resurfaced, covered in fruit.

“Oh, Sweet Celestia!” Pectin screamed, thrashing even more vigorously. “Sweet mother of us all! It’s so amazing!” Arching his back, he thrust his hooves to the ceiling. “The jam is entering me! WE ARE ONE!”

I’ve got to get out of here! Cheerilee thought as the stallion trembled, taut as a piano wire. This guy’s lost his mind! Taking a few steps backward, Cheerilee was reaching for the doorknob when he locked eyes with her.

“Okay,” he panted. “Your turn.” His smile stretched tightly across his face as he began to climb out, his eyes never leaving hers.

Scrambling backwards, Cheerilee slammed the door closed and pounded down the street, vowing to never go back to that market on a Saturday ever again.

Author's Note

For Wade.

Date Eighteen - Roomhates

“Well, we could go out to see The Ponyville Theater Troupe’s new play. It’s at the Civic Hall, and it’s supposed to be really good!” Cheerilee grinned hopefully.

Bon Bon frowned, her brow furrowing. “Hmmmmmm. I don’t know. The contrast between the bright stage lights and the dark theater always gives me a headache.”

“Um, okay.” Cheerilee sat silently for a moment again, trying to look anywhere but to her left. “We could—” She shivered as the horrible grinding began again, then nervously licked her lips. “Are you sure—”

“Oh, yes. It’s totally fine.” Bon Bon kept her eyes locked on Cheerilee. “So, what else do you have in mind now that I’m single?”

The grinding ratcheted up a notch, and was now accompanied by intermittent growling. Cheerilee swallowed hard. “W-well, The Hayloft is supposed to have, um, excellent barleycakes! I’ve been meaning to try them for ages!”

Bon Bon stuck out her tongue. “Ew, no! Sparkler got food poisoning from that place when she ate there last week.”

Cheerilee sighed. This had been going on for half an hour now. Isn’t there anywhere this mare wants to go? Anywhere that isn’t here! She scooched a little further to her right, then suddenly perked up. “Well, let’s just go for a stroll and see where our night takes us!”

“No,” Bon Bon ran a hoof through her hair. “I used to do that with—”

“Okay, then what do you suggest?” Cheerilee said quickly.

“Oh, just whatever!” Bon Bon offered her a sunny smile. “I’m pretty much down for anything! You pick.”

Cheerilee could feel the waves of white-hot fury washing over her from the other end of the loveseat. “Um, well, we could…” Inadvertently, her eyes drifted to her left.

Next to her, Lyra sat, staring at Bon Bon. “Oh, no,” Lyra growled through clenched teeth. “Please, Cheerilee. Don’t let me stop you from taking my ex-marefriend out for a fun-filled night. Our recent breakup was completely amicable, and I am in NO WAY angry at the fact that she’s decided to bring her first date over a week later ON WHAT WOULD HAVE BEEN OUR ANNIVERSARY!” Lyra trembled, and twin spot of crimson blazed on her cheeks. “In fact, I couldn’t be happier for her!”

“You know, maybe this isn’t such a good time.” Cheerilee got up from the loveseat.

“No, no!” Bon Bon jumped up from her chair. “Lyra and I discussed this when she decided that we ought to take ‘a break’, and she’s perfectly fine being just roommates.” Bon Bon trotted over and rubbed her shoulder against Cheerilee’s. “I’m all yours tonight!”

“Well, let’s just go to The Trough and have a cocktail!” Cheerilee hurried to the door.

“Noooooo,” Bon Bon said, putting a hoof to her chin. “Slipstream hangs out in there, and he—”

“I like The Trough!” Lyra said with a sly grin. “Let’s go, Cheerilee! You and me!”

Bon Bon’s eyes narrowed into dagger-like slits. “What do you think you’re doing?” she whispered.

“I’m single now, too!” Lyra replied, pointedly ignoring her ex-girlfriend. “Yup, just a carefree unicorn, lookin’ for love! So what do you say, Cheers? Let’s hit the town! I’d love to go to The Hayloft and have some barleycakes.”

Cheerilee’s eyes darted between the two mares. What have I gotten myself into this time? she thought. I didn’t even know they’d been dating!

“This is truly the lowest, Lyra!” Bon Bon hissed. “And that’s saying something for you!”

“Oh, look who’s talking, Ms. Passive-Aggressive Dater!”

Cheerilee coughed uncomfortably. “You know, I’ll just be on—”

“No!” the mares both yelled in unison.

“Fine, then let’s just go somewhere!”

“Oh, anywhere’s fine with me!” Bon Bon opened a closet and retrieved a hat. She turned this way and that, examining her reflection in a mirror hung on the closet’s door.

“Alright.” Cheerilee sighed, relieved. “We’ll go to The Trough and figure it out from there.” She winced as Lyra snorted out twin jets of steam from her nostrils.

“Well,” Bonbon replied, drawing the syllable out. “I still don’t care for—”

“UGH!” Cheerilee threw her hooves up before stomping to the door. “You know what? Nevermind! This clearly isn’t the time!”

Bon Bon raced to cut her off, throwing a hoof across her chest. “Nonono! I’m sorry! We don’t want you to be mad!” She scowled at Lyra. “Do we?”

Lyra scowled back. “No, of course we don’t. Furthest thing from our minds.”

“And that’s why the roommate without the date is going to leave for a while so that the potential new couple can get things planned out!” Bon Bon opened the front door and motioned with a hoof for Lyra to make herself scarce.

For several moments, the house was ominously still. Cheerilee sweated as the mares stared at one another, each refusing to blink.

Cheerilee cleared her throat. “Um, well—”

“Fine! I hope you have a really, really wonderful time!” Lyra stomped out the door.

Bon Bon slammed the door behind the unicorn. “There. Now, we can talk in peace.”

Cheerilee sat heavily on the loveseat, then crossed her legs tightly across her chest. “Look, I really don’t appreciate what you're doing here.”

Bon Bon sighed, blinking as her bloodshot eyes welled. “No, it’s not like that. She wasn’t supposed to be here, but apparently Sea Swirl told her that we were talking and that you were coming over. She got here a few minutes before you did.” Rubbing her eyes, she motioned for Cheerilee to continue. “Let’s just try to make the best of it, okay?”

Cheerilee massaged her aching temples. It seemed like her life was lived headache to headache these days. “Okay, then let’s go dancing.”

“Bleh, no. I'll get all sweaty.” Bon Bon made a face and stuck her tongue out.

“Celestia’s sake, Bon Bon!” Cheerilee said, rolling her eyes. “You’ve shot down every—”

Both mares sat straight as something rustled in the bushes. Outside, Lyra tried to duck her head back down, but yelped as she poked herself in the eye with a twig.

Bon Bon stomped to the window and threw it open. “Nice, Lyra! Real mature of you!”

“Oh, sorry!” Lyra stood, brushing leaves and cobwebs off of her coat. “We all can’t be as emotionally serene as you are, being able to handle having dates on our anniversary and all!”

“It’s not our anniversary anymore!” Bon Bon said, throwing her hooves up. “You decided that you needed some space!”

As the argument escalated, Cheerilee slipped out the front door and headed for The Trough.

Author's Note

I just kinda wanted to see how awkward of a date I could get Cheerilee to go on. This is what came out.

Date Twenty - An Instrument of Destruction (20th Date Double Sized Extravaganza!)

“It’s just that, well, I’d expected it to be… a little more quiet in here, that’s all!” Cheerilee folded her ears, wincing as the machine cycled into a higher gear. “Um, it is always like this?” she shouted, forcing a smile.

She’d been standing in the coat check’s snaking line with Fancy Pants for several minutes now. Nearby, a grim-faced janitor worked a deafeningly loud industrial waxer back and forth across the symphony hall’s marble floor. Adding to the cacophony, a small group of musicians were trying their best to demonstrate scales to a group of wide-eyes foals. Frowning, they shot the janitor dirty looks, then bent to the task again. The musicians' cheeks bulged grotesquely as they attempted to overpower the shrieking waxer.

Fancy Pants sighed, or at least he appeared to. Cheerilee couldn’t hear it over the noise. “I’m at a loss, I’m afraid,” he shouted. “I’ve never seen it this way before. I wasn’t aware that today was the Canterlot school system’s Arts Appreciation Day, or I would have rescheduled.” Both ponies squeezed their eyes closed and gritted their teeth as the clarinetist squeaked out a piercingly incorrect note. “You have my sincerest apologies for this.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” Cheerilee said. She had to practically put her muzzle into the stallion’s ear to be heard. “I’m sure it will be fine once we get into the hall. Besides, just look at them!” Cheerilee pointed to the rapt students. A nearby teacher gently placed a restraining hoof on one of the foals as he tried to pluck the strings of a double bass. “They’re really enjoying themselves! It’s so nice to see that the foals here are exposed to so much at such a young age.”

Fancy Pants nodded, smiling. “Yes, I remember this from when I was a foal. I’d been complaining all day because I didn’t want to wear my stuffy formal clothes and sit in some big hall where we were going to have to be on our best behavior for hours. Ah, but then… the music!” The stallion reared, conducting with his forehooves. “I was captivated from the first note, Cheerilee. I tell you, the music took hold of me and never let me go! I’ve yet to miss a year!” Fancy Pants frowned as the janitor moved nearer. “And I don’t mean to start now, noise or no!” he yelled over the din.

Cheerilee breathed a sigh of relief. With the terrible racket going on, she’d been sure that he’d want cancel the date. Don’t even try it, buster, she though. I’ve been through a lot worse than this! I can take a little noise.

The teacher had come to Canterlot to visit her sister, Meadowsong, but they’d run into Fancy Pants in a bistro when they’d gone to lunch. He’d been seated next to them, and had magically retrieved Cheerilee’s fork when she’d dropped it. That had started a flirty back and forth that ended with Fancy Pants joining their table. Meadowsong had given her a wink and then left, “remembering” some vital errand.

Cheerilee had spent the next hour with the handsome stallion, marveling as his breadth of experience. She hated to say it, but several of the Canterlot residents that she’d met that day seemed a little too impressed with themselves. However, this one seemed both witty and down to earth. She’d had to fight to keep her composure when he’d asked her to accompany him to the symphony later that night.

Try as she might, she couldn’t even remember making the trip back to her sister’s apartment. She might as well have been trotting on cloud nine. Once inside, Meadowsong had pumped her for details while Cheerilee tore through her sister’s closet, trying to find anything that would work as formal attire. She swore as she tried piece after piece on, playfully complaining about her sister’s naturally slim figure.

But there it was, in the back of the closet. A gorgeous, shimmering gown of black silk, complete with gloves and shawl. It had fit perfectly, and both mares squealed in delight as Cheerilee turned this way and that in front of the mirror. She was ready to knock this stallion dead.

Or, she had been until they’d arrived at the hall. Now that they were together, they could barely understand one another over the noise. Still, it offered her an excuse to be very close. He didn’t look like the kind of stallion to brazenly move in for a kiss in the middle of a public space, but Cheerilee found herself hoping. She wouldn’t mind being wrong tonight.

Fancy Pants removed his monocle, polishing it with a handkerchief. “What a mess! I promise I’ll make this up to you, though.” He put up a hoof as Cheerilee opened her mouth to protest. “Ah-ah! I won’t hear a word against. This isn’t meeting expectations and—ah, here we are!” Now at the front of the line, Fancy Pants handed his jacket to a bored looking attendant. “Now,” he said, taking Cheerilee’s elbow, “let’s find our seats and get away from all this, shall we?”

Cheerilee struggled to match Fancy Pants’ elegant stride. He seemed to glide across the floor in a way that suggested that years of attending the symphony left him unconsciously dancing. She was doing her best to match his gait, but she couldn’t help feeling clumsy and ham-hoofed. The slick floor wasn’t helping. Cheerilee set each hoof down carefully, making sure the she didn’t fall.

I sure hope I’m coming off better than I think I am, she thought as she scanned the room. It seemed like everypony was watching them. Sometimes, she would catch a pony whispering behind their hoof, pointing at them as they passed. She couldn’t be certain, but many of the mares seemed to be regarding her with envy. As Fancy Pants gently guided her to a carpeted staircase, she supposed that she couldn’t blame them. What more could you ask for? she thought.

~~~

“And so you’ve never been?” Fancy Pants shouted as he gave her a winning smile. “Well, it’s my sincere pleasure to be the one to introduce you to that which has filled my life with so many wonderful moments! Pity about the lobby, though.” He shook his head, tsking. “This work should have been done hours ago. Somepony’s bound to fall if they don’t get the runner down soon. I’ll have a word with them about this when it’s time to underwrite the next season.”

Cheerilee blinked, wondering if she’d heard him incorrectly. It was so noisy that she’d had to half-rely on lip-reading, but as they ascended the stairs, she found that she was having difficulty wrangling her dress and looking at him at the same time. Cheerilee squinted, watching his mouth carefully. “Did… did you say you ‘underwriting’?”

“Yes,” he said loudly, nodding. “I’ve financed the orchestra for the last three years.”

Cheerilee’s mouth dropped open. “I-I had no—”

RRRIIIIIPPPPPP!

Cheerilee stumbled as she tripped on her hemline. Still holding onto Fancy Pants’ leg, she managed not to fall, but looking behind her, she could see that she’d torn a sizable portion of the dress. Her temples began to pound as she glared at the trailing hem. The gown was ruined.

"#*%@!!!" she screamed at the dress’ gaping hole.

At that precise moment, the janitor finished the lobby’s floor.

It was also the moment that the musicians finished the foals’ lesson.

It was, in fact, the first truly quiet moment the hall had experience in several hours.

Cheerilee’s explicative exploded into a vast sea of silence, feeding on the lull. Like a hurricane over warm waters, it gathered strength in the sudden silence. It was unstoppable.

The word echoed through the hall, rolling along the acoustically perfect chamber and back down into the lobby. Heads turned in outrage as they tried to determine where the source of such crassness. In the lobby, several foals began crying. Teachers shouted for management.

Trembling, Cheerilee slowly turned to meet Fancy Pants’ wide-eyed stare. His mouth hung open as he blinked at her several times. On the verge of tears, she was fumbling through an apology when he’d started to laugh.

At first, she was afraid that he was crying. The sophisticated stallion lowered his head, his whole body shaking. Cheerilee twisted her hooves around each other, mortified. But then he’d thrown his head back and started howling. As his laughter rang through the hall, it replaced the echoing curse. Cheerilee began to giggle, then transitioned into a deep, cleaning belly laugh. It felt remarkably healing. Oh, I needed that! she thought, trying to get herself under control again. When was the last time I truly felt like this?

“My dear,” Fancy Pants said, wiping away a tear, “I’d never have expected it from—oh!”

As the stallion’s monocle popped out of his eye’s weakened grip, both Fancy Pants and Cheerilee moved reflexively to catch it.

“Oops! Slippery—”

“Oh, let me—”

A flash of blinding white pain shot through Cheerilee as their foreheads slammed together. Stunned, the hallway swam before her, and she stumbled into the stallion. As Fancy Pants cried out, Cheerilee shook her head vigorously, trying to clear away the spots.

As her vision slid into to focus again, she saw that Fancy Pants was teetering on the edge of the stairs, pinwheeling wildly. Moments from tumbling down the stairs, he twisted his hips and pawed at the air, fighting to keep his balance. It was a fight that he was losing.

No! Cheerilee thought, her heart racing. Nononono! Not this time! Desperate to save the stallion, Cheerilee’s hoof shot out, grabbing Fancy Pants’ expertly coifed mane. Pulling with all of her might, she only managed to tear out a chunk of his hair. She stared it in horror as he tipped backward.

Cheerilee’s heart nearly stopped as a beam of pure arcane energy erupted from his horn and encircled the chandelier above them. Slowly, he began hauling himself back to a standing position.

“Well, that was certainly…” he began before trailing off, his eyes growing wide. Cheerilee glanced up, following his look of horror back to the chandelier. Every candle that it had previously held was falling right toward her. Firing out another beam, the stallion managed to catch a single candle in the fiery deluge.

Cheerilee bolted, desperate to avoid the shower of flame, but caught her hoof on the torn hem. Tripping again, she tumbled down the stairs, picking up speed as she whizzed by Fancy Pants. Rolling and bumping, she tried to get her bearings, but each time she tried to put a leg out to arrest her descent, it only seemed to add to her momentum.

“Cheerilee!” Fancy Pants called after her, galloping down the stairs as quickly as he could manage. “My word, I—”

As Cheerilee slammed into the polished marble floor, stars swam before her eyes. Dazed, it took her a moment to realize that she was sliding through the lobby at nearly the speed at which she had tumbled down the stairs. Cheerilee’s hooves were a blur as she tried to back-pedal, but the floor’s surface seemed almost frictionless. As she sailed by the janitor, he paused for a moment, raising his eyebrows at the black-clad mare before going back to laying a carpeted runner down along the path she had just traveled. Thanks for nothing, buddy! she thought, glaring at him. Unconcerned, he shrugged, lazily pointing a hoof to something in her path.

Cheerilee turned just in time to see the musician’s terrified faces as she plowed into them. Woodwinds and brass instruments flew into the air, the artists scattering like ten pins as the teacher barreled through them. Still scrambling, she fought for some sort of purchase, but was hampered by a dented French horn that was jammed onto her hoof. Somehow, the impact had barely slowed her and she was headed straight for the hall’s large double door.

“Somepony catch her!” Fancy Pants called, his hooves slipping and sliding as he attempted to gallop after the teacher. “Don’t let her—”

Cheerilee grunted as she hit the doors, the wind blasted out of her. Gasping and coughing, she flew out into the night air and onto a red carpet that hadn’t been there when she’d arrived. Holding her head protectively in her hooves, Cheerilee didn’t even see Sapphire Shores as she tumbled into the diva, bowling her over and entangling herself in the singer’s dress. Flashbulb erupted all around them as both dresses ripped in several places. Finally, Cheerilee came to a stop, her head throbbing as she tried to figure out which way was up.

“Well, honey,” Sapphire’s muffled voice said from somewhere beneath her, “I don’t know how you are with entrances, but you sure know how to make a memorable exit!”

Date Twenty-One - The Captive Heart

Whirlwind wiped his eyes, trying to maintain his composure their laughter escalated. “A-and then… the bull charged back into the room…” The stallion leaned over the table, afraid to look up at Cheerilee. He was going to lose it if he did anything but stare into his plate. “…but this time, he had the chaps stuck on his horns!”

Cheerilee burst out laughing, cupping her hoof beneath her nose as she accidentally snorted out a bit of her wine. “He did not!”

Whirlwind nodded. His face was beet-red as he gasped for air. “I swear to Celestia he did!”

The teacher collapsed over her plate of braised switchgrass, howling. “How?” was all that she could manage before the giggles set back in.

“We don’t know! We could never figure it out!” The stallion tried to pour himself a little more wine, but his hooves where shaking so badly that he missed the glass entirely. For a moment, they both stared at the spreading puddle in shock before looking back at one another. As their eyes met again, all restraint was lost again.

Cheerilee pressed her hoof into her aching side, trying to massage out the stitch that had set in there. “No… more! Please! I can’t… breathe!”

“You should have seen that…” Whirlwind’s voice tapered off as he squinted at the window behind the mare. “Just a moment,” he said, rising and closing the rich, velvet curtains in his dining room.

“What’s the matter?” Cheerilee asked, glancing over her shoulder as the stallion pulled the next set of drapes shut with a flourish.

Whirlwind rolled his eyes before smiling ruefully. “Oh, just some unpleasantness outside. I’d thought that it might happen tonight. It’s never a good scene.”

Cheerilee craned her neck, attempted to see past the stallion as he fussed with the curtain’s ties. “What is it? What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain it all in a moment, but first…” Whirlwind winked at her, a small smile creeping across his face. “… I have a surprise for you. I really think you’re going to like it!”

Cheerilee’s brow furrowed as she looked between the curtain and Whirlwind. “Not tonight!” she said, rising from her chair. “I’m tired of this happening!”

Whirlwind frowned, blinking a few times as he tried to catch up. “Pardon? I’m sorry, but I’m not following.”

Cheerilee pulled at the ties, wrenching the curtains open. “Never mind. I wouldn't be able to explain it anyway. Whatever this is, though, I’m going to send it—what in Equestria?!”

Several dozen stern policeponies stood in a loose ring around the house. As the curtains opened, one stepped forward and began barking into a megaphone.

“We know you’re in there, Whirlwind! Come out with your hooves up!”

“Whirlwind, what is—oof!” Cheerilee crashed onto the hardwood floor as the coils of rope cinched tightly around her legs.

“Surprise!” Whirlwind said with a grin.

Cheerilee wiggled furiously on the floor. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

“Well, I had the feeling that they might be coming today.” Whirlwind gave the rope a final yank and began tying an intricate knot. “They’ve been watching Ponyville’s exits for days. No way in or out.” Picking the teacher up, he deposited her back in her chair. “Honestly, I’d thought that I was done for, but then I met you at Sugarcube Corner! You seemed like such a sweet mare, and I thought maybe we could get to know each other a little better. You know, some dinner? Maybe a tense hostage situation? A, forgive me, whirlwind escape from the law… perhaps in a stolen hot air balloon? That sort of thing.”

Cheerilee thrashed, rocking her chair back and forth as she struggled to free herself. “You invited me over just to be a potential hostage?!”

Whirlwind shook his head, staring at the floor for a minute as he collected himself. “You know, that’s pretty hurtful,” he said, frowning. “I’m just trying to make a connection here. Wasn’t dinner nice? I thought you were having a really good time.”

“I was!” Cheerilee yelled, baring her teeth at the stallion as he crossed his legs tightly across his chest and looked away. “Right up until the part where you tied me up to use as a equine shield!”

“Last chance! Don’t make us come in and get you!”

Whirlwind held up a hoof. “Excuse me for a moment.” Hopping off of his chair again, he trotted to the window. The stallion gave Cheerilee a wink as he ducked low and cracked the window open. “I’d really like us to move past this, but I just need to take care of these officers first. Just hang tight.” Trying to stay below the window, the stallion stretched his hoof out, dragging Cheerilee’s chair into view. “Don’t get any funny ideas!” he bellowed. “I've got a hostage here and she won’t make it out alive if I see any of you guys move one inch toward this house!”

Glancing outside, Cheerilee could see several of the worried officers huddling together. “Get in here and help me!” she screamed at them.

“Cheerilee, please don’t be like that,” Whirlwind said with a sigh. “I don’t want to have to gag you. Let’s just try to have a good time with the rest of our night. There’s no reason this needs to change things between us.”

Cheerilee glared at her date. “Have you totally lost your mind?”

“Look, is this about the ‘doing you in if they approach’ thing?” he asked, trotting into the kitchen. “That’s just hostage talk. I don’t really want to kill you.”

“Oh, that’s very reassuring,” Cheerilee called after him. After straining against the ropes a few more times, she finally gave up. “I almost can’t wait for our next date. I can see it now! You: Fleeing from the law! Diving into bushes and sneaking onto railcars to escape over the border. Me: Hooves tied, stumbling, starving, but madly in love as I’m whisked away on a terror-filled adventure! What more could a mare ask for?”

“Oh, thank Celestia!” Whirlwind replied, trotting back into the dining room with a large butcher’s knife. “I was so afraid that you’d take this all the wrong way, but—”

“I am, you dolt!”

“Oh,” Whirlwind said, hanging his head. “You know, you could be a little more understanding. I’m doing my best here. Do you need anything, by the way?” He grinned, holding up a hoof before she could answer. “I know, I know. Freedom!” He rolled his eyes. “Anything besides that. Water? Backrub?”

Both ponies squinted as the room was suddenly filled with blindingly bright light. “We’re sending for a negotiator,” the officer called out from around a large spotlight. “Don’t do anything rash!”

Whirlwind held out the knife for the officers to see, waving it threateningly close to Cheerilee’s neck. “Don’t push me! I swear I’ll do it if I see one of you get anywhere near this house!” Leaning over, Whirlwind whispered into Cheerilee’s ear. “Not that I want to. You seem like a really great mare, and I think once we talk about this for a little while, we’ll be laughing about it just like we were earlier. We just need to get through this whole negotiation/escape thing first.”

Cheerilee sighed, shifting her position as best she could and wishing she could scratch the persistent itches that seemed to be plaguing her now. “And how long is that, usually?”

The stallion shrugged. “Eh, usually a few hours. Sometimes a couple of days. It really depends on the precinct.” Trotting to his chair, he brought it over and placed it nearby. Sitting again, he gave the teacher a hopeful smile. “But now we’ll have lots and lots of time to share with one another! You know, to really bond.”

Cheerilee leaned back in the chair. Staring up at the ceiling, she wondered what she’d ever done to make the universe hate her so much. “I can hardly wait,” she finally answered.

Date Twenty-Two - The Flavor of Defeat

Cheerilee pressed her nose against the glass, fogging it slightly as she watched the hail bounce off of the street and rooftops. It doesn’t look like it’s going to be letting up anytime soon. What are the pegasi thinking with all of this? Sighing, she turned away and sat at her kitchen table once more.

It was still there, waiting for her.

Frowning, Cheerilee flipped it over, shuddering at its texture: Hard on one end and overly squishy on the other, with the softer end glistening slightly. When she touched it, it oozed.

Nope, she thought, getting up again and turning her back. I’ll just wait. Moments later, she winced as her stomach growled loudly. As she ran a hoof along her belly, she could feel it churning. “Okay, let's check the pantry again, “ she muttered as she trotted across the kitchen. “I must have missed something!”

Twisting the pantry’s knob, she opened it and stepped back to inspect her options. “Flour… pepper… cinnamon sticks… vegetable shortening.” Growling softly, she pushed the meager ingredients back and forth, hoping that this time she’d spot something new. Something remotely edible. Just like the last three times she'd checked, she found nothing.

Cheerilee slammed the door, glaring as the calendar pinned to the back of it flew off and landed in a heap on the floor. “Oh, how did I let this happen?!” she said, retrieving the calendar. Flipping it open, she scanned until she found today’s date. “I mean, it’s right there! ‘Hail until late evening.’ How could I miss it?!” With a disgusted sigh, she tossed the calendar onto the counter and began opening drawers and cabinets.

Half of her kitchen floor was filled with pots and pans before she sat, clutching her mane in her hooves, staring at it all. Get a hold of yourself, Cheerilee! she thought, bonking herself lightly on the forehead. The teacher craned her neck straining to see out the window from around her kitchen’s island range. Outside, the hail continued to hammer Ponyville. I’ve been through worse. I’ll just run. She winced as a branch fell from a nearby tree. Really, really fast, I guess!

Taking a deep breath, Cheerilee rose and trotted to the door. Retrieving her umbrella, she loosened its ties and shook it open. She wanted to be able to get it above her immediately. Swallowing hard, Cheerilee opened the door.

The noise was deafening. Clunks of ice slammed into the ground with breathtaking force, exploding into razor-sharp shrapnel that spoke of torn pony flesh. What are they doing up there?! she thought, glaring up at the clouds. What possible use is all of this?!

Cheerilee’s knees buckled as the hunger rolled through her again. Beginning at her stomach, the pain moved out in waves, driving her forward into the storm. She barely had time to put up her umbrella as she stepped out onto her stoop.

The effect on her muscles was immediate. One second earlier, they’d agreed with her stomach that something had to be done about the hunger issue, and that outside was just the place to do it. The next, they’d propelled her back into the house, gasping and smarting from dozens of bruises. Wide-eyed, she stared down at the umbrella she clutched in her shaking hoof. It was a shredded, unrecognizable mess.

Kicking the door closed with a hoof, she scrambled away from it. “Well, okay,” she said, breathing heavily. “So outside’s out of the question.” Slowly, she turned to stare at the kitchen table.

It was still there. Waiting.

Cheerilee drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her legs around them. Resting her head, she tried to keep from crying. “You survived on floating algae and seaweed for weeks. You can do this!” Somehow, it didn’t seem to help.

Her stomach propelled her into motion again. Where once it had offered up a strong suggestion that food might be in order, it now ratcheted those requests into full blown demands. Cheerilee cried out as the cramp gripped her, twisting her abdomen into knots. I’m going to kick those cops in the face next time I see them! she thought miserably. Detaining me! ME! The hostage! On the one day I had to go to the market! Unable to stop herself, she trotted back to her chair.

Sitting once more, she pulled the plate closer. “This won’t be so bad. At least it’s not curried durian.” Tentatively, she lowered her head until her nose was almost against the plate. Swallowing hard, she sniffed.

“Oh, Celestia!” Cheerilee rocked back, her mouth involuntarily working to spit out what her nose had convinced her she’d already eaten. The smell had been complex. Inscrutable. It had barreled across her mind, thundering through her senses and leaving her bewildered. Like a pony staring after a receding hurricane, she sat, too stunned to makes sense of it.

“No,” she groaned, pushing the plate away. “Yes,” she said a second later as her stomach twisted. As if attached to an altogether different mare, her hoof shot out, dragging the plate to her again.

Why is it green on this side? she thought as she nudged it back on forth. I-it definitely shouldn’t be this color. Moving in a close as she dared, she squinted at the bizarre hue, but couldn’t fathom it. Is it mold? Do they just grow like this?

Sitting straight again, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, slapping her face lightly with her hooves. Opening her mouth slowly, she forced her hoof into motion. Before she could lose her nerve, she popped it into her mouth.

Chewing started out as ‘difficult’ and quickly moved up to ‘heroic’ as she felt her stomach and tongue waged a fierce battle. Cheerilee's gut demanded food, but her tongue insisted on spitting this vile thing out immediately. Locking her lips shut, she covered her mouth with a hoof.

Cheerilee found that it somehow managed to be both unpleasantly mushy and nearly impossible to chew at the same time. The fruit gave without breaking, like chewing a small leather ball filled with pudding. With each mastication, a slimy syrup coated her tongue. It tasted the way dank things look. It was rot flavored.

Summoning up her full will, the teacher swallowed, feeling it slide down her esophagus in fits and starts. It moved slowly, reluctantly, the way congealed grease runs off of a pan. Shuddering, she ran for the sink and stuck her mouth under the faucet, sucking down huge mouthfuls of water.

After several minutes, she turned off the faucet and sat on the floor, staring out the window again at the churning storm. Like an unwanted and unpleasant houseguest, the taste still lingered on her tongue.

“That,” she said as she willed her hooves to stop trembling, “was the worst date I’ve ever had.”

Date Twenty-Three - Rottomaton

Megabyte frowned, repeatedly pressing the 'advance' button on his cable remote. “Heh heh, just bear with me for a moment. It looks like we’re having some technical difficulties.” Before him, a panel of bored faculty members sat, slouching and yawning. Megabyte swallowed hard. This was not going well. Nothing had gone well since that day, but he had to make the best of it. “Dot, could you take a look at this?”

A pudgy orange unicorn trotted up and took the cable remote, squinting at it over his glasses. “I just bought this,” he muttered, scratching behind his ear. “Why wouldn’t it be working?”

The stern looking mare with the tightest bun Megabyte had ever seen checked her watch. Another member of the panel drummed his hoof on the desk, scowling.

Megabyte put his leg around Dot Matrix’s shoulder, turning him away from the lectern. “Just take it over there and see if you can figure it out!” he hissed. “If I don’t get this moving, our shot at additional funding will be in worse shape than it already is! I’ll just have to do this the old fashioned way.”

The stallion trotted to the slide projector, cycling it manually. His title slide was replaced with photograph of a snarling purple mare “Ah, there we go. As we said previously, we’ve made significant advances in artificial intelligence. Our subject—”

The stern mare gasped and adjusted her glasses, peering at the screen. “Cheerilee!”

Megabyte licked his lips nervously before attempting a smile. Like so many other things lately, the smile was a failure, collapsing into a nervous spasm. “Oh, um… do you know our subject?”

“Why, yes,” the mare said, now fully engaged. “She’s my niece.”

“Oh, you…. You don’t say.” A bead of sweat trickled down Megabyte’s forehead, falling with a loud plop to the floor. “Your niece? A-are you, um... close?”

The mare smiled, a feat which Megabyte had previously believed to be impossible. “Oh, she spends two weeks with me each summer! She’s such a sweet, caring, sensitive mare. Such a shame about her love life, though. If only—”

An elderly stallion nearby cleared his throat. “Is any of this pertinent to the task at hoof? We’re already ten minutes over the scheduled time and we haven’t even seen the presentation.”

“Of course. Forgive me,” the mare said, nodding to the aged stallion. “It was just a shock to see her, that’s all.”

Megabyte took a deep breath and tried to still his trembling hooves. “It’s, ah, quite a shock for—”

“It wasn’t plugged in!”

Megabyte brow furrowed as Dot Matrix trotted back to the lectern and slapped the cable remote back into his hoof. “Oh, ah… of course.”

One of the panel members sighed and shook her head.

“Well now that we have that sorted out,” Megabyte said, tugging at his collar, “we can move on to the results.” Pressing the cable remote’s ‘advance’ button, he nodded as Cheerilee was replaced with ruggedly handsome pegasus stallion. “This is our latest creation. We call it the D-8-R.” Megabyte grinned.

None of the panel grinned in return.

“Ah, moving on.” Megabyte pulled out a long, wooden pointer and advanced the slide. Before them, the handsome D-8-R was replaced with schematics. Megabyte tapped D-8-R’s head with his stick. “Here’s where the magic happens. Dot Matrix and I have run extensive experiments to ensure that this is the most life-like model to date. Our field tests have been extremely promising, as you—”

The stern mare leaned forward. “I’m sorry, did you say ‘field tests?’ With an unapproved AI?”

Megabyte mopped his brow with the edge of his lab coat. “Well—”

“We decided that the data was worth the risk!” Dot Matrix called from some darkened corner in the back of the room. “We hadn’t had a unit explode since version four, and unit seven was a great success until it got stuck in a gallop loop. It smashed through a couple of buildings, but we did disable it eventually.”

Megabyte trembled as the panel collectively narrowed their eyes. “Ah, thank you, Dot. I believe, we agreed that I’d be presenting, but I appreciate your input. Perhaps you could—”

The elderly stallion rose, rapping his hoof sharply on the table. “Could we please get to something substantive? I have five minutes left before my next lecture begins!”

“Yes, yes! Of course!” Grimacing, Megabyte clicked through several slides. “Here we have D-8-R approaching the subject. For this mission, we’d programmed him to call himself Hard Drive.”

The elderly pony twirled a hoof impatiently. “Yes, and?”

“Dot researched the locals thoroughly, and came up with a candidate we both thought was suitable. She seemed desper…” Megabyte winced as the stern mare’s face hardened. “I mean, she seemed, ah, attractive and really interested in having a successful date, given the various personals she’d put out in the local periodicals. It was our hope that she’d be willing to overlook any, um… strange behavior that the unit displayed.”

The stern mare closed her legs over her chest tightly. “Let me get this straight. You went looking for the saddest, loneliest mare that you could find for your experiment?”

“Yup,” Dot said from somewhere in the darkness.

“Interesting approach,” she growled.

Megabyte trembled. The room seemed to have dropped forty degrees. “We answered one of the personals and agreed to meet the subject for ice cream at the local parlor.”

“Did your model interact with the public unassisted, or were you in control?” the elderly stallion asked, arching an eyebrow.

Megabyte breathed a sigh of relief. They were finally back on track. “That’s the wonderful thing! He was operating totally independently. We were monitoring, of course, but he was self-directed!” Advancing the slide, Megabyte cleared his throat. “As you can see from the images we pulled from his databanks, the subject appears to be having a wonderful time. We’ve run these images by the psychology and physiology departments and they both agree that she is, in fact, smiling.”

“She does appear to be having a good time,” the stern mare said, her voice softening a bit.

“D-8-R has been programmed with over three thousand pleasant topics of conversation, each with hundreds of sub-branches. Wherever the conversation goes, D-8-R can handle it. He’s been designed to compliment where appropriate, laugh at even the lamest joke, and to, ah, heat things up when the time comes.”

“Well, that sounds very promising!” the elderly stallion said, adjusting his glasses as he peered at the screen. “So what happened next?”

“Ah, well… about that,” Megabyte said, scanning his notes for the best possible framing.

“He freaked out,” Dot called out. “Too much ice cream.”

The panel members frowned. “Explain please,” one called out.

“It, ah, seems that his cranial shielding wasn’t sufficient. D-8-R has been designed to flawlessly blend in with the pony populace, and as such, he can eat and dispose of the contents later, but we seem to have made an error in his consumption algorithm.” Megabyte gripped the lectern like a pony in a hurricane. He needed something solid to get him through this. “Instead of taking small sips, he found it more efficient to down his shake all at once.”

“And then he totally freaked out!” Dot said from around a mouthful of something. A paper bag crinkled, followed by more munching. “Shorted out his lust unit.”

“What?!” the stern mare said, half-rising from her chair.

“Well,” Megabyte said, making a show of polishing his glasses, “he, ah, seems to have leapt across the table and tried it initiate level three intimacy without moving through level two. We’d hard-wired a limiter in after the problems with had with version six, but the ice cream seems to have frozen—”

“What happened to my niece?!”

“Got Kiss-Tackled,” Dot called out, his mouth still full.

Megabyte massaged his temples and reminded himself to get a new research partner. “D-8-R made his move, as it were. I’d like to point out that he was having an engaging discussion about the pros and cons of the Equestrian elementary schools system before the ice cream incident. One that the subject seemed to be quite enjoying. The dialogue options were—”

“I’d like to hear more about this… What did you call it?” the elderly stallion called over his shoulder.

“A freak out.”

“Yes, what is this ‘freaking out’ business?”

Megabyte slumped, leaning against the lectern. It was all over. “He leapt up and tackled the subject, kissing her as they fell. When she tried to get away, he turned his oral suction up to maximum. At that point, several patrons intervened, and pulled them apart, but not before the subject suffered significant facial bruising.” Megabyte rested his leg on the lectern, cupping his forehead. He couldn’t look at the panel any longer. “Moments later, the short corrected itself as D-8-R’s internal cranial cavity heated up again, but moving from intimacy level three without completion of level two caused a logic error. He, ah, began clearing his memory cache and rebooting.”

“It’s hilarious when he does that! He gets all twitchy and starts talking super fast.” Dot trotted into view to demonstrate.

“At that point, the subject seems to have grown angry.” Megabyte cycled the projector again. The image before them was mostly of a purple hoof smashing whatever lens they were seeing through. “Eyewitness accounts describe near super-equine levels of strength. Apparently, she knocked D-8-R’s head clean off when sparks began shooting from its mouth. The last audio we have is the subject screaming something about curses and fate’s unholy design on her misery.”

For a moment, all was silent.

“So let me get this straight,” the stern mare growled. “You sent an experimental android into a populated area with no approval. Then it played with the heart of an innocent mare before attacking her? Is that a succinct review of the events?”

Megabyte stared down at his notes. They had seemed so promising once. “That’s not exactly the way that we see it, but it could be viewed as such. From a certain angle, I suppose.”

The elderly stallion checked his watch. “Well, we are almost out of time. What does the panel say? Those in favor for funding approval, say ‘aye’, all those opposed, say ‘nay.’”

“Aye,” the panel said as one.

Megabyte’s head snapped up. His mouth had become incredibly dry. He tried to force some words of thanks out, but he seemed to have lost control of his tongue. Finally, he settled for staring questioningly at the stern mare.

“You owe my niece an extemporary date,” she said, gathering her belongings. “Get this thing perfected.”

Date Twenty-Four - Cruisin' For A Bruisin'

“Rab-ble! Rou-ser! Rab-ble! Rou-ser!”

The audience had been chanting his name for ten minutes now, the crescendo of their clapping and whistling building steadily. When they finally reached a fever pitch, he burst through the curtain, throwing his hooves up into the air.

The crowd erupted as he trotted back to the microphone. “Guys, I gotta sleep sometime, you know,” he said, laughing. This was his third encore and the building manager was beginning to look a little worried. Rabble Rouser had been told in no uncertain terms that this was absolutely, positively the last five minutes he’d have.

His roadie trotted out with a fresh guitar. “Y’all love your rock ’n’ roll, huh?” Rabble Rouser nodded as the crowd roared. “Yeah, me, too. Thanks for comin’ and hangin’ out with me. You know, they’re tellin’ me backstage that y’all gotta get on up outta here, but that don’t mean we can’t rock this joint one last time!”

He took a swig of cider while he waited for the crowd to rein themselves in. He could feel the seconds ticking by, but it didn’t bother him any. He’d leave the stage when he was good and ready, building managers be damned.

“So I—” Rabble winced as feedback squealed from the speakers. “Hey, Sound Check? Can you bring my levels down a little? Yeah, that’s good.” Rabble took another swig of cider, shrugging. “Anyway, maybe some of y’all read about it, but I spent last summer on a boat. I wanted to know what it was like for them sailors out there on the water all the time.” Lifting his guitar, he slung it over his shoulder and absently strummed out a few chords. “Learned a lot. They got knots for their knots, and I ate all kinds of seaweed that I didn’t know existed. I told ’em they could keep that. Gimme a hayburger any day.”

The crowd laughed, eager for whatever it was he was building to.

“But I did take somethin’ from ’em,” Rabble said, striking up a jaunty tune. His speaking voice began to slowly fade way, becoming more and more melodic as his strumming intensified. “Those sailors had a song that they’d sing when they were workin’. Seems they’d been the crew on this amazin’ voyage. ‘Cursed’, they called it. Well, y’all know what comes next. I had to have ’em teach it to me, and now I’m gonna sing it for y’all.”

Oh, come gather ‘round mates!
And I’ll sing of bad dates,
On a voyage, cursed and dark!
It’s the tale of one mare,
And her life lived unshared,
Who wanted to feel love’s spark.

But she found with a grin,
That a trip she did win,
She leapt for joy with a shout.
T’was a romantic cruise,
She had nothing to lose,
Waving good-bye, she set out.

Oh, the fish in the drink,
And birds in the sky!
You can ask what they think,
But they don’t know why,
The unluckiest dame,
To e’er sail the seas,
Well, she goes by the name,
Of Ms. Cheerilee!

Meanwhile six strong stallions,
Boarded the galleon.
Searching for love of their own.
Oh, their futures seemed bright,
And the timing felt right.
They would have run if they’d known.

’Cause Cheerilee followed,
And the sea soon swallowed,
The one that returned her wink.
For the wind rocked the ship,
And his hoof, it did slip.
Then o’erboard into the drink.

The crowd groaned, some throwing out some light-hearted boos. “Aw, don’t gimme that!” Rabble growled, frowning theatrically at them. “I didn’t write this stuff. Go take it up with the sailors!” He waited for them to stop laughing before launching into the chorus.

Oh, the fish in the drink,
And birds in the sky!
You can ask what they think,
But they don’t know why,
The unluckiest dame,
To e’er sail the seas,
Well, she goes by the name,
Of Ms. Cheerilee!

Well, lad two thought he knew,
What a stallion should do,
To win the heart of the lass.
For the love of this girl,
He would fish up a pearl,
To show her that he had class.

So ’neath the waves he went,
’Til his air tank was spent.
Still not an oyster in sight.
So he pried at a clam.
‘It’s as big as I am!’
Were his words ere it did bite.

Oh, the fish in the drink,
And birds in the sky!
You can ask what they think,
But they don’t know why,
The unluckiest dame,
To e’er sail the seas,
Well, she goes by the name,
Of Ms. Cheerilee!

Date three took a chance,
When he asked her to dance.
At dinner their second night.
The pair shimmied and swayed,
While the band played and played,
The music let them take flight.

But the sultry singer,
Was quite the dead ringer,
For beautiful Rarity.
When she started to sing,
He called off the brief fling.
Jilted was poor Cheerilee.

A high-pitched awwwwww rose from the crowd. “I know, I know, ladies!” Rabble said, shifting between a few neutral chords as he talked. “But seriously, have you seen that unicorn? Hoo-ey, she is mighty fine!”

Oh, the fish in the drink,
And birds in the sky!
You can ask what they think,
But they don’t know why,
The unluckiest dame,
To e’er sail the seas,
Well, she goes by the name,
Of Ms. Cheerilee!

With the next she did flirt,
So he wasn’t alert.
Blissfully dreaming of love.
Hungry seagulls did see,
A fine morsel in he.
They swooped down on him from above.

He did run to and fro,
Yelling for them to go.
Shouting for help from the rest.
But despite his large size,
They kept after their prize,
Carrying him off to their nest.

Oh, the fish in the drink,
And birds in the sky!
You can ask what they think,
But they don’t know why,
The unluckiest dame,
To e’er sail the seas,
Well, she goes by the name,
Of Ms. Cheerilee!

Number five rolled the dice,
When he tried to look nice,
Sunbathing out by the pool.
‘To entice her I can,
Get to work on this tan!
She’ll love me if I look cool!’

But his skin was too fair.
As they napped in deck chairs,
The redder that he became.
Cheerilee soon awoke,
’Cause he started to smoke,
And then he burst into flame!

Oh, the fish in the drink,
And birds in the sky!
You can ask what they think,
But they don’t know why,
The unluckiest dame,
To e’er sail the seas,
Well, she goes by the name,
Of Ms. Cheerilee!

The last stallion wondered,
How many had blundered,
While vying to win her hoof.
For he’d seen stallions try,
And he couldn’t see why,
The beauty appeared aloof.

So he asked for peck,
As they hid below deck.
For the weather had gone south.
But on that roiling sea,
To their horror did he,
Get seasick into her mouth.

The audience’s reaction hit Rabble Rouser like a tsunami: Laughter, groaning, and retching. “Hang in there, folks. We’re just about through. Y’all know the words by now, I’m sure. Help me out with this chorus!”

And they did.

Oh, the fish in the drink,
And birds in the sky!
You can ask what they think,
But they don’t know why,
The unluckiest dame,
To e’er sail the seas,
Well, she goes by the name,
Of Ms. Cheerilee!

Well, poor Cheerilee docked,
And the crew was quite shocked!
The captain, he couldn't see!
How a right bonny mare,
With her poise and her flair,
Could leave empty-hoofedly.

Seven went on the trip.
But the stallions did slip,
Into fate’s grip, by and by.
As she left with a scowl,
She spat out with a growl,
‘I’ll be alone ’til I die!’

Oh, the fish in the drink,
And birds in the sky!
You can ask what they think,
But they don’t know why,
The unluckiest dame,
To e’er sail the seas,
Well, she goes by the name,
Of Ms. Cheerilee!

“Good night, folks! See y’all next time!” Rabble Rouser finished with a flourish, strumming the guitar aggressively before throwing it to the floor. Still attached by the strap, it spun several times around his body before he plucked it off and threw it high into the air, walking away. He crowd gasped, then broke out into whistling applause as his roadie slid onto stage, catching the guitar at the last second. Rabble shook his head, grinning. “Gets ’em every time.”

Date Twenty-Five - A Quiet Night In (Guest Chapter by BronyWriter)

A guest chapter written by BronyWriter

“I’m having a great day, Dreamlight Sun. You sure know how to show a mare a good time.”

Cheerilee smiled at the peach coated, golden maned unicorn mare seated across from her, and her date smiled back. “I’m having a wonderful time as well, Cheerilee. It is so nice to finally meet somepony that understands me.” Dreamlight slowly, gently put her hoof on the table and slid it over to Cheerilee’s, which was resting near her dinner plate. “And might I say, you are truly one of the kindest mares I have ever met.

Cheerilee giggled and tried to ignore the flushing she felt in her cheeks. “Well, I suppose that comes with working with foals like I do. They do need such nurture and care, and I pride myself on being able to provide that for them.”

“An attractive quality in a partner, I’d say,” Dreamlight purred. “Kindness is a virtue too rare these days.”

Cheerilee snorted and waved her hoof. “Oh, don’t say that, Dreamlight. You just have to know where to look.” Cheerilee motioned out of the window of her home in the direction of Ponyville’s outskirts. “Why, my friend Fluttershy is one of the kindest ponies ever born.”

Dreamlight’s smile widened ever so slightly, slightly enough that it went unnoticed by the schoolteacher. “Ah. Yes, Fluttershy. She’s an Element of Harmony, is she not?” Cheerilee nodded. “I see. The Element of Kindness?”

“Yep, that’s Fluttershy.” Cheerilee took a bite of the salad she had made for the two of them to enjoy and tapped her hoof on the table thoughtfully before swallowing. “As a matter of fact, all of the Elements live here.”

“Indeed?” Dreamlight raised an eyebrow. “I had no idea! I have heard of the exploits of the Elements of Harmony, but I have never met them.” Dreamlight flattened her ears and gave Cheerilee an embarrassed smile. “It’s silly, really, but I’ve always wanted to meet the Elements of Harmony. I mean, I’ve seen them in passing and I’ve read all about them, but I’ve never had the honor of actually meeting them. I am loath to admit that I may hero-worship them a little.” Dreamlight snorted and waved her hoof. “Multiple saviors of Equestria, and all that.”

Cheerilee smirked and rolled her eyes. “You know, you might be one of the first ponies who really knows about them. I mean, you’re right: they’ve saved the world more times than I can count but hardly anypony knows who they are.”

“Tragic,” Dreamlight said sadly with a shake of her head. “Absolutely tragic.” Dreamlight’s smile returned, and Cheerilee couldn’t help but feel that Dreamlight’s smile flashed sinister for a moment. After a second look, she decided that she was imagining things. “You… teach the sisters of two of the Elements, do you not? And a sister-figure of a third.”

Cheerilee grinned and vigorously nodded. “Yep. Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo. The Cutie Mark Crusaders, they call themselves. They can be a hooffull, but it just makes it all the more rewarding when I get to see what kind of mares they grow up to be.”

“Yes, quite. As I said, your kindness is your most admirable quality.” Dreamlight’s smile suddenly fell, and she began quickly looking around the room, almost as if she was expecting that they were being watched. Cheerilee frowned and cocked her head.

“Is something wrong? Did you hear something?”

Dreamlight turned back to Cheerilee and gave her a reassuring smile. “Oh, nothing wrong at all, my dearest Cheerilee. It’s just…” Dreamlight let out a nervous chuckle. “I know tonight is supposed to be about us, and it will be, but… is it possible that you can introduce me to the Elements? You are their friend, after all.”

Cheerilee raised an eyebrow and tilted her head. “Really? You want me to introduce you to the Elements? I don’t see why—“

Before Cheerilee could say anything else, the door to her home burst off its hinges, revealing none other than the Elements of Harmony themselves, all of whom were sporting their elements and determined looks.

“My door,” Cheerilee said sadly. She internally sighed and rested her head against her hoof. Whatever. I really should have seen all of this coming. The better the date, the worse it ends. Oh well, maybe if I ignore them they’ll go away. Couldn’t get much worse either way.

Twilight and her friends paid no heed to the destroyed door, instead choosing to file in and strike an epic pose just in front of the table.

“Cheerilee! We’ve come to rescue you from the mortal peril you are in!” Twilight cried.

Cheerilee sighed and looked over to Dreamlight. “Well, these are the Elements. You know what they say about meeting your heroes, I suppo—“

“The Elements!” Dreamlight shot to her hooves and a wicked grin spread across her face. “How kind of you to join us! We were just discussing you.”

“I’m sure you were, you ruffian!” Rarity snapped. “How could you think to use this poor, defenseless schoolteacher to bring about our destruction?!”

“Thanks for that, Rarity,” Cheerilee said flatly. “Now would you kindly explain why you broke down my door to interrupt my date?”

Dreamlight let out a loud cackle, and before Cheerilee’s eyes she began changing color. Her previously peach fur began turning dark blue, and her golden mane began shimmering like the night sky. “Why, there’s no need to tell you, dearest Cheerilee, when I can just show you!”

“She’s the reincarnated avatar of the Mare in the Moon!” Twilight ignited her horn and pawed at the ground in a threatening manner. “Nightmare Moon!”

“It seems I have been caught then!” Dreamlight crowed, her previously unseen wings unfurling from her sides. “This time I shall not be so easily defeated!”

“Run, Cheers!” Applejack cried, rushing to Twilight’s side. “We’ll take care of her!”

“Uh-huh.” Cheerilee let out a slow, longsuffering sigh and shook her head. Her salad remained uneaten before her. If there was going to be a major duel for Equestria in her home with the reincarnated avatar of Nightmare Moon, she might as well not deal with the potential end of all life on an empty stomach. She shrugged and picked up her fork to dig in. “Just don’t be too noisy.”

“Cheerilee, we’re about to have an epic duel, so you might want to think about getting out of here!” Rainbow Dash insisted.

“A duel which you will lose!” Nightmare Moon cackled. She flew into the air and hovered above Cheerilee, gleefully poking at her mane. “All will cower before me in fear as this pony will soon be doing!”

“Not after the ducks and Fluttershy off her meds,” Cheerilee deadpanned.

“I said I was sorry,” Fluttershy whispered, almost unheard by the gathered ponies.

Cheerilee sighed again and clicked her tongue. “Fine. Have your super-duper duel for the world. Whatever.” Cheerilee picked up her plate and balanced it on her back, part of her suspecting that it would soon be her only remaining worldly possession. As she reached her destroyed door, she mustered enough will to call back to the fighters.

“Just clean up when you’re done, I guess.”

Date Twenty-Six - A Moussed Connection (Guest Chapter by Seether00)

A guest chapter written by Seether00

The date was going well…

Suspiciously well.

“What’s the matter, babe? You look a bit on edge.”

“Oh, nothing.” Cheerilee wiped the frown from her face. “Just… Let’s say my last few dates have been interesting, but not a good way.”

“What happened? You get mugged?” Gilda said with a chuckle.

“No. Held hostage.”

That got a raised eyebrow. “Seriously? Huh. Well, you don’t need to worry about that anymore. Not while I’m around.” Gilda proudly brandished her talons. “Not while I have these babies.”

Cheerilee sipped from her glass of red wine and smiled at the large griffon hen seated across the table. She had to admit, Gilda certainly was physically attractive with a deep chest, broad shoulders and an impressive wingspan.

To be honest, Cheerilee had considered giving the dating scene a break, but Raindrops had pushed her to “think outside the box” or in this case, outside the species. Also, she’d mentioned something about talons being the best thing for those hard to reach areas. There’d been no time for further elaboration as Raindrops had merrily pushed out the door.

Cheerilee hadn’t expected Raindrops to set her up with Gilda of all creatures. The rowdy griffon hadn’t exactly left the best of impressions the last time she’d visited Ponyville. All previous blind dates being such “winners”, she had fully expected the encounter to immediately end with some rude comments, followed by a return home to her reliable tub of superswirl-fudge ice-cream. Her dates so far had never made it to dessert.

To her surprise, she’d encountered a well groomed griffon standing in her yard, wearing striking purple eyeshadow with a bouquet of roses, and a reservation for two at the new Prench-Griffish restaurant in town.

“I’ve never actually been to a Griffon restaurant before,” Cheerilee admitted. She looked, a bit perplexed, at the menu card. It was written entirely in Griffish and Prench. The restaurant itself was all candlelit tables and fancy linens. All the staff appeared to be griffons. The few ponies appeared to be like herself on dates with griffons. As one such couple passed her table on the way towards the exit, Cheerilee couldn’t help but note the odd, uncomfortable expression on the pony’s face.

“Don’t worry ’bout it, babe,” Gilda said. “I’ve already ordered the choicest grub they have to offer. Trust me. You’ll love it.

And indeed she did. The wine was excellent, and the first appetizer of mushroom duxelle on a thick slice slice of toasted Prench bread was both rich and delectable.

But Cheerilee’s eyes were on the true prize of the night. Carried aloft by a waitress towards another table, she beheld a wondrous sight: A pair of tall glasses filled with the darkest, creamiest, most glorious, most holy chocolate mousse she had ever seen. A mousse deserving of such worship, she could almost hear a choir raise its voice in song.

Wiping away a tiny string of drool, she made a vow.

Come what may, as Celestia as my witness, I shall make it to dessert!

Their own waiter arrived shortly to serve the next appetizer course. He brushed away the few crumbs on the tablecloth with a fine comb before lifting the cloche.

“Potato mousse topped with caviar and truffle.”

The tiny ring of mousse was light and creamy. Cheerilee wasn’t sure about the little black beads on top. They were salty but enjoyable.

“This all seems very expensive,” she said.

Gilda waved away her concern. “It’s cool. Being a courier between Equestria and the Griffon Eyries is a sweet gig. I fly all over the world and get paid a bundle of cash doing it. Beats a teacher’s salary any day… Not that there’s anything wrong with teaching kids, I mean.”

Cheerilee giggled at the griffon’s flustered backpedaling. The blush surfacing through her feathers made her look cute. She took another sip of wine. “Don’t worry about it. Celestia knows, nopony ever became a millionaire from teaching. It sounds cliche, but I do it for the children.” She noted her glass was now empty. “Though sometimes they do test my patience.”

“Your soup course, madams. Prench Onion soup with Gruyere cheese.”

Melted cheese oozed down the sides of miniature crocks. Puncturing the top layer with a spoon yielded toast soaking in a dark, salty broth accented by generous quantities of sweet onions.

As much as she enjoyed it, Cheerilee couldn’t quite place the flavor—nothing like the vegetable soups she’d eaten in the past.

“Caesar salad.”

Gilda dug into her plate with gusto as Cheerilee frowned. Intermixed with the more familiar ingredients of lettuce, croutons, and cheese were what she swore were…

“Gilda, are these fish?”

“Anchovies, yeah,” Gilda replied. She speared one of the tiny fish and swallowed it with a satisfying slurp, making the teacher to cringe.

Okay, Cheerilee, calm down. She’s a griffon. You’re probably the first pony she’s taken on a date. She probably doesn’t know any better. Think of it as an educational experience.

Out of politeness—but really more about the all consuming need to make it to the all important mousse—Cheerilee cut a teeny-tiny piece of fish, surrounding it with as much lettuce and dressing as possible. The horrible smell entered her nostrils as she slowly brought the fork to her mouth.

She suppressed a gag when the anchovy hit her tongue.

By The Sisters! It tastes worse than it smells!

For next few minutes, she poked at the salad.

“Something wrong with the food, babe?” Gilda asked.

“Nope, nothing wrong at all,” she lied, taking another bite. Both smile and grimace fought for dominance. “So, Gilda,” Cheerilee said, moving the subject away from the food. “Am I the first pony you’ve dated.” By the sour look on Gilda’s face, this was a sore subject. “Oh, I’m sorry. We don’t need to talk about it if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No no.” Gilda stabbed a crouton. Hard. “It’s not like I took a month of unpaid vacation to see her, or flew all the way across the continent. Nope, it’s totally cool. Just like it was totally cool how she made a fool out of me in front of all her new pals and kicked me the curb. Yeah… It’s cool. I’m not bitter. I’m not bitter at all.” Her plate looked more like a crime scene at this point, anchovies torn into little pieces. “But enough about my ex. How about you?”

Cheerilee chewed piece of lettuce. “I dated a prince once.”

Gilda raised an eyebrow. “That actually sounds pretty awesome.”

“He left me stranded at sea.”

“...Okay…”

They were saved from more awkwardness by the timely arrival of the next course.

“Escargots à la Bourguignonne.”

Cheerilee stared at the trio of shells on her plate. “Gilda,” she asked. “Your ex. Did you happen to take her out to Griffon restaurants?” She watched as her date insert a long tined fork into one of the shells.

“Sure. She couldn’t get enough of the stuff, actually. Why?”

“No reason.” Okay, Cheerilee. If another mare can do it, so can you. You’re supposed to be open-minded. Just taste one. Don’t think of them as one of those slimy gastropods that ruins your garden. Think of them as… Well I don’t know. Just don’t imagine snails!”

Duh, hey, Miss Cheerilee!

“Arrggh!” Cheerilee pushed the plate away. Her screech drew a few stares from the other tables.

“Whoa!” Gilda reached over to grab her hoof. “You okay?”

“No! I mean yes!” Cheerilee tried to get her breathing under control and push the dopey face of Snails out her mind.”

Gilda sat back down with a frown. “Oh I get it. You don’t like the food, do you?”

“What? No! I am really enjoying it, honest. Look.” As the griffon watched, she grabed her fork and teased the snail out of it’s shell. She tried not to gag as she brought the morsel to her lips.

On the outside she said, “Mmmm, delicious.” On the inside, however:

Eww eww eww! It’s like eating a warm gummy bear! A gummy bear soaked in garlic-butter!

Her facade almost cracked when she felt the snail slither down her throat.

Well, that’s it. I’m never going to be able to look at Snail’s cutie mark same way ever again. At least Gilda looks happy. Maybe I can make this work. Huh, how does she smile with a beak?

The errant thought was filed away for later. She swallowed the last escargot just as their waiter arrived with the second to last course.

“Peas and Carrots.”

Well that sounds normal.

The waiter lifted cloche. “Sweet-butter poached lobster tail topped with peas and carrots.”

Oh c’mon! I know it’s a different language, but how does that even make any sense!

At this point it became clear. Whatever force governing her life was actively trying to prevent her from getting through dinner, thus to the all important chocolate nirvana.

Gilda pursed her beak. She looked a bit put off when Cheerilee started laughing. “Umm, babe? What’s so funny?”

Cheerilee returned a smile and dug in. “I was just thinking how funny it is that words and phrases can mean completely different things in other cultures. As a teacher, I find it fascinating.” She ignored the soft pillowy texture of the lobster’s flesh. She ignored the sickening sensation of it sliding down her gullet. She even ignored the meek butter-colored voice scolding her in a firm but polite manner for eating the flesh of an innocent little crustacean.

Shut up, Fluttershy!

“Yeah, I guess,” Gilda replied, scratching back of the her head. “I’m not much of a bookworm, to be honest.”

They made small talk for a few minutes and the table was cleared for the final course. Cheerilee rubbed her hoof together. She had nearly done it. A dinner date almost complete. And what was this? She could hear the choir raise their voices once again as the waiter returned.

Two sacred vessels were placed on the table. They were even more beautiful close up.

“Mousse Au Chocolat served with wine-poached black cherries and toasted almonds. Bon appétit.”

“It’s...” A tear ran down her cheek. “It’s so beautiful.” She almost regretted ruining such perfection. Almost.

A perfect dimpled portion of rich dark chocolate mousse stood proudly in the tall martini glass. Cherries glistened seductively; their juices swirled into the chocolate in a dark red ribbon.

Oh yes! Come to momma!

“Well well. Look who has the guts to show her beak.”

Cheerilee lowered her spoon and slowly turned towards the noise. She watched Rainbow Dash, wearing a blue dinner gown of all things, march over to their table and get right in Gilda’s face. Another dark feathered griffon, wearing a party dress, followed closely behind. She covered her eyes with a claw, clearly mortified.

“I thought I told you never to show your face here again, Gilda.”

“Hey! Watch it, dude!” Gilda pushed Dash away and stood up. Both unfurled their wings. Cheerilee scrambled to prevent her glass from tipping over. “It’s a free country, Rain-blow. No one, especially not a mangy traitor, tells me what to do!”

If Cheerilee remembered her lessons on pegasi culture correctly, there was going to be a fight. She pulled her glass closer.

“Ha! You haven’t changed a bit, Gil-Duh. Still blaming everypony else but yourself for your own screwup. I don’t know what line you fed Cheerilee here— no offense, Cheers—but I’m not gonna stand by and watch you con some gullible pony—again, no offense, Cheers—into thinking you’re something other than a big fat jerk. So why don’t you make like a tree and get outta here?”

Splat!

Noooo!

Indeed, running down Rainbow's noggin in a river of chocolate and cherries was Cheerilee's dessert.

“Oooh, that’s gonna leave a stain.” Gilda smirked and dipped a talon into her ex’s mane, tasting it. “Gotta say this, Dash. You’ve never tasted better.”

There was still the glass mean for Gilda left. One last chance for the sweet chocolatey taste of victory. Cheerilee lunged across the table with her spoon.

Just one taste!

But…

Splat!

“Nooooo! Why?” Cheerilee wept.

Gilda slowly wiped the chocolate from her eyes. "Cute. Real cute, Dash." Growling, she pounced.

Griffon and pegasus wrestled. Each in their prime, powerful muscles rippled and flexed beneath their sleek fur, drawing appreciative gasps from the nearby diners, who cheered when tables were broken and laughed as both dresses were reduced to ribbons dangling off the pair’s heaving, sweaty bodies.

“I outta clip your tail-feathers, you two-faced backstabber!” Gilda squawked, wrapping Dash in a headlock.

“Go lay an egg, birdbrain!”

Cheerilee watched in silence. She didn’t get up. She didn’t make a sound. She didn’t even flinch when Gilda bodyslammed Rainbow Dash through the table. Not even when Rainbow wrapped her hooves around her opponent in a bear hug. Nor when they started making out.

She did wish they’d stop licking chocolate mousse off each other, though.

Cheerilee sighed out in despair and raised a hoof. “Waiter, check please.”

Date Twenty-Seven - Blue Belles and Green Mushrooms

Cheerilee leaned over the velvet rope, peering into the display. “Look at that!” she breathed.

“I know! Isn’t it something?” Blue Belle pointed to the placard. “It says here that this vase comes from the Sumareian Era. The level of detail is just amazing!”

Cheerilee nodded, stepping quietly to the other side of the display. She didn’t want to miss any of the exquisite craftsmaneship. “Oh, I never thought an exhibit of this magnitude would ever tour through little ol’ Ponyville!”

“You should see the collection in the Manehattan Museum of Cultural History,” Blue said, shrugging. “This is nice, but that exhibit was truly incredible!”

Cheerilee ripped her eyes away from the mask, her ears perking up as she stared across at the mare. “You’ve been to the M.M.C.H.?”

“So many times!” Blue replied, rolling her eyes theatrically. “I used to live five blocks away. Volunteered there for a while, too.”

Cheerilee clasped her hooves to her chest, sighing. “Oh, that would be like a dream come true. If it weren’t for the foals, I’d seriously consider moving there.”

“That’s right!” Blue Belle said, smiling. “You’re a teacher, too! When did you start?”

Cheerilee put a hoof to her chin. “Well, it was right out of college, so… about fifteen years ago, I guess.”

Blue Belle gave her a big grin. “It’s been seventeen years for me. It seems like it was only yesterday.” She trotted over to a nearby ceremonial mask. “Time just flies, doesn’t it?”

“It’s the foals,” Cheerilee said, nodding. “They’re so ‘in the moment.’ Every second with them feels so important.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Then you look up one day and find out that fifteen years has gone by…”

Blue Belle elbowed her lightly in the ribs. “Well, just wait until you get to where I am. It’s even harder at seventeen years.”

Cheerilee’s brow furrowed. “Well, I guess…”

Blue tilted her head, squinting at the mask. “So how many do you teach?”

“Right now, I have twenty, but it fluctua—”

“Yeah, they stuck me with twenty-three this year. Oh, did you notice these?” Blue pointed to a series of stylized foxes carved onto the brow of the mask. “But twenty-three! Sweet Celestia, it’s so much more difficult!”

Cheerilee scratched her mane, looking away for a moment. “I… I suppose, but I don’t see that it would make that big of a difference.”

Blue smirked, rolling her eyes. “Oh, you’ll see one day. They’ll stuff a few extra foals in on your class one day, and then you’ll see.” Blue trotted to a bench and sat, groaning with relief. Lifting her rear hoof, she began to massage it. “All this walking,” she said with a small, apologetic shrug. “So tell me a little more about yourself. Where did you grow up?”

Cheerilee hesitated for a moment before sitting. Something about this conversation was bothering her, but she couldn't put her hoof on it. “Well, my family owns a farm just outside Croopersville. We didn’t have much, but we managed. They even put away a little money to help with my college tuition.” Cheerilee rubbed her eye as it threatened to tear up. “I don’t know what I would have—”

“Oh, I know exactly how you feel,” Blue Belle said, working on her other hoof. “My family was on a farm, too, but my father died.” The mare fished for a handkerchief in her saddlebags. Sniffling, she blew her nose into it. “Even though we usually didn’t have enough money for meals more than a few times a week, my mom somehow managed to save up enough money to put me through college.”

Cheerilee leaned away, squinting at the royal-blue mare. Let's try something.

Blue Belle turned, looking behind her for a few seconds before turning back. “What?” she said finally.

Cheerilee kicked her hooves out in what she hoped was a casual manner. “I was really lucky, though,” Cheerilee continued. “I was accepted into Celestia’s Junior Officer Training Corps. They helped Mama pay for my college courses. We couldn’t have done it otherwise.”

Blue Belle gasped, her hooves flying to her cheeks. “No way! Me, too! What rank did you get?”

“I’m a, um…” Cheerilee cycled through military ranks in her mind, trying to remember which fell where. “Uh… corporal?”

Blue Belle nodded. “I was a captain.”

Cheerilee arch an eyebrow, frowning. “You must have been very talented. Why didn’t you stay in the military?”

“Well, why didn’t you?”

Cheerilee ran her tongue slowly along the inside of her teeth as she considered how best to answer the question. “Well, the truth is, I’m still in the military.” she finally said. “I do covert missions—”

“Me, too! I’m part of Celestia’s secret guard!” Blue blurted before slapping a hoof over her mouth. “Ooh, I shouldn’t have told you that!”

Cheerilee pursed her lips, crossing her legs tightly across her chest. “But my real passion is marine biology. I just returned from the Gallopagos Islands yesterday where we discovered three new species of fish.”

Blue brought her hoof to her face, casually examining it for nicks and cracks. “That’s so amazing! I just got back this morning from the Hayman Island where we found thirty-three new kinds of monkies.”

Cheerilee’s eyebrows knitted together. “What do monkies have to do with marine biology?”

“They’re new,” Blue replied slowly, her voice filling with patience. “Sea monkies. Very rare. Nopony’s seen them before. I’m not surprised that you haven’t heard of them.”

Cheerilee put her hooves on her hips, her lower jaw jutting foward. “I galloped a 10K last week—”

“I won the Hosston Marathon!”

“—but I caught a cold right afterward!”

“I got pneumonia for nine weeks!”

Cheerilee jumped up, throwing her hooves into the air. “Okay, I’m done. This is ridiculous!”

“Huh?” Blue said, her face clouding. “Done with what?”

“This!” Cheerilee replied, motioning back and forth between them with a hoof. “You must really think I'm an idiot.”

Blue rose, her face turning purple as she flushed. “What’s your problem? I’m just trying to get to know you.”

“Well, I’m wondering if anypony knows you with the tales you tell!” Leaning down, Cheerilee scooped up her saddlebags and threw them over her back. “Thank you for a perfectly dreadful date.”

“Pfft! I’ve had way worse dates than y—”

Blue squeaked as Cheerilee’s hoof encircled her muzzle, squeezing it closed with a grip of pure iron. With a grunt, Cheerilee dragged the mare forward until their faces were just inches apart. Blue ceased to struggle under Cheerilee's intense, unwavering stare.

“No,” Cheerilee growled, shaking Blue’s muzzle slightly as she spoke. “No, you haven’t.”

Date Twenty-Eight - Closed Encounters

Cheerilee plunged her muzzle into the bouquet and inhaled deeply. The flowers rich scents were intoxicating. "How did you know hydrangeas were my favorite?" Grinning, she took a bite and chewed happily as she interlocked her leg with Caramel’s. Unhurried, they strolled casually down Ponyville’s main street.

Caramel shrugged, a blush creeping into his cheeks. “Actually, I didn’t. I just asked Lily to put together the best arrangement that she could manage.” He scratched behind an ear. “When I told her who it was for, she said that she’d try to make it extra nice for you.”

“Well, she did!” Cheerilee replied, picking out a chrysanthemum and popping it into her mouth. “It’s delicious!”

“I, uh…” Caramel cleared his throat looking away. “I felt like after last time—”

Cheerilee bumped the stallion with her hip, shooting him a warning glance. “Hey, we agreed. No talking about the past.”

“But—”

Cheerilee dragged Caramel to a stop. “Look, it wasn’t your fault. Stop beating yourself up about it.” Cheerilee reached for him, touching his cheek lightly. “You can’t let a couple of bad experiences bring you down.” She gave him a smile. “Trust me on that one.”

“I know, I know,” Caramel said, nodding. “I just… well…” Caramel shuffled from hoof to hoof uncomfortably. “It’s just that I, um, really l-like you. A-a lot. And, uh I haven’t exactly shown you my best…”

Cheerilee put a hoof over his mouth. “Shh. It’s all in the past.” Edging closer, she tilted her head toward the stallion, her eyes coquettish. “And if you really feel that way about a mare, you should show her…”

Caramel cheeks moved from pinkish to a blazing beet-red, but he leaned in eagerly…

“Sheesh, get a room, you two!” Rainbow called out, laughing as she flew overhead.

Nearby, Applejack whistled, fanning herself with her hat. “Atta boy, Caramel! Hoo-ey! Y’all’re makin’ me a little warm over here!”

Caramel scowled at the farmer, his face flaming. “Applejack!”

Applejack laughed and threw a wink over her shoulder before trotting after Rainbow. “Good luck, cuz!”

Cheerilee sniggered, covering her mouth with a hoof. “Maybe we should get a move on, huh?” Taking another bite of the bouquet, she elbowed Caramel in the ribs. “So where are we going, anyway?”

Flustered, Caramel tried to collect himself. “Um, well… there,” he answered, pointing to the theater across the street. “I mean, I wanted to take you in there." Caramel pinched the bridge of his muzzle, squeezing his eyes closed. "I mean to see a movie," he said with a sigh.

“Smooth,” Cheerilee replied, laughing gently as Caramel grimaced. “C’mon! Let’s go.”

~~~

“What do you mean ‘closed?’” Caramel said, frowning. “It’s Friday night! How can you be closed?”

Third Reel pulled off his glasses, polishing them against his worn tuxedo jacket. “Our projector caught fire today. It happens sometimes. A film gets too action-packed or steamy, and the old boy just rolls over and gives up the ghost.” The unicorn shrugged, offering an apologetic smile. “It’s never adapted to modern tastes.”

“Are you kidding me?!”

“Caramel, it’s okay,” Cheerilee said, pulling on his leg. “It’s not his fault. Look. Sugarcube Corner is right across the street. Let’s just get something there and talk.”

The stallion scowled at the theater one final time, then allowed himself to be pulled across the street. Cheerilee bit her lip, trying to keep from laughing. Poor Caramel was muttering a continuous stream of opinions about shoddy maintenance standards and inattentive owners.

Cheerilee added an extra spring into her step, gripping Caramel’s leg tightly. “Oh, stop grousing! This will be perfect. We’ll have a chance to—oh!”

Sugarcube Corner’s door flew up, missing Cheerilee by less than an inch. “Now, careful with those!” Filthy Rich called out as he held the door for a seemingly endless parade of assistants. “I don’t want even a speck of icing out of place.” Turning, he stuck out his hoof, then retracted it. “Well, hello th—oh, it’s you.”

“Yes. Yes it is,” Cheerilee replied. Nearby, Caramel shivered. It seemed that the temperature had suddenly plunged.

“Well, allow me to get out of your way, Cheerilee. I know how choosey you are about every little thing.” Filthy curled his lip, staring down his nose at Caramel. “I can see it’s only the, ah, best for you.” Filthy snapped his hoof at his assistants and trotted on. “All right, hurry it up, you guys.”

Caramel arched an eyebrow at the mare. “What was that all about?”

Cheerilee stared daggers into the back of the rapidly disappearing business owner. His large entourage struggled to keep pace, huddled together like a ragged flock of ducklings. “Let’s just say that you’re ten times the stallion that creep is.”

Caramel pushed the door open, holding it for Cheerilee. “You went out with that guy?”

The mare sighed, wondering where to even begin. “Not exactly. He asked me to apply for a marefriend position a while ago. Then he followed it up with a twenty-five page negative performance evaluation of my ‘interview.’ He had it couriered to my house.”

Caramel’s eyes grew large. “He did what?!”

“I know! Ugh, it was—”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you two,” Cup called out, trotting out from the kitchen, “but we’re closed.”

Cheerilee pointed to the sign on the door. “But it says you’re open for another three hours.”

Cup trotted over, flipping the sign around. “Well, usually we are, but Filthy… did you two see Filthy?”

They nodded, both pursing their lips.

“Well, apparently Diamond Tiara’s having a sleepover, and she wanted some goodies. He bought out the whole shop!” Cup shrugged, spreading her hooves helplessly beside her. “We don’t have a crumb left.”

The three ponies jumped as a piercing wail rose from the kitchen, followed by uncontrolled sobbing.

“Dear me!” Cup said, trotting behind the counter once more. “This is a little tough for Pinkie. She’s never seen the bakery like this, and I can’t get us any more flour until tomorrow! I’m afraid she’s in for a… a rough night.”

The pair watched as the Cup grabbed a pair of galoshes and a rain slicker from somewhere under the counter. Slipping into them, she grabbed a rubber hat from a nearby hook and jammed it onto her head. “If you could be a couple of dears and make sure the door is securely shut on the way out, I’d really appreciate it!”

Taking a deep breath, Cup steeled herself and opened the kitchen door to a gale of tears. Leaning into the wind, she forced herself in, inch by inch. “It’s okay, Pinkie!” she yelled, her voice nearly lost in the heart-broken wailing. “We’ll make more tarts tomorrow!” Straining, she yanked on the door, struggling to close it.

The pair stood blinking as the door closed.

“Well,” Caramel said, finally breaking the stunned silence, “maybe dinner?”

~~~

“I’m so sorry, but we’re closed.”

Caramel slapped his hoof over his face, grinding his teeth. “It’s Friday night!” he growled. “This has to be the busiest night of the week for you!”

The manager nodded, slowly walking forward and forcing the pair out of the restaurant. “Normally, yes, but it’s a holiday.”

Caramel glared at the stallion. “What are you talking about? It’s not a holiday!”

Cheerilee cleared her throat. “Well, actually it is, but only for mules. Today is the first day of Assover.”

The stallion beamed. “That’s right! It officially started fifteen minutes ago.”

Cheerilee and Caramel glanced at each other uneasily, each wondering if the other would ask.

“But, um…” Caramel said, licking his lips nervously, “you’re… not a mule.”

The manager chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, I’m converted. Married into it, you see.”

Cheerilee and Caramel sighed together as the manager shut the door. The snapping bolt had the sound of finality, but both refused to give in. “Dancing?” Cheerilee finally offered.

~~~

“No! No way!” Caramel began to gallop toward the stream of ponies erupting from the nightclub. “This place isn’t closed, is it?”

“Yeah, they just shut it down,” a passer-by said, dragging his hooves glumly. “The owner said that the health inspector came by on a surprise visit. They posted up some notice about the music and drinks grossly exceeding the fun maximum.”

Cheerilee closed her eyes, taking a moment to collect herself. “Are you saying that this place was shut down because the party was just that good?”

Looking over his shoulder, the stallion sighed and nodded. “Yeah, it was really off the hook. It was bound to happen at some point.”

Caramel stomped a hoof. “This is ridiculous!” Grabbing Cheerilee’s leg, he began pulling her back the way they’d come.

“Hey, slow down!” she called, struggling to keep up. “Where are we going?”

“Look, the Quill and Sofa shop is still open!” Caramel answered, pointing to the store.

“So what?”

“We’re going somewhere tonight if it kills me!”

~~~

“Oops. Closed, you two. My wife just had our first foal! Have a cigar!”

“My chakra been misaligned all day. The spiritual energy's just all wrong. Normally I’d still be open, but, you know… auras!”

“Nope, I’m retiring. Decided just ten minutes ago.”

“Sorry, we’re closing. I’ve got a hot date tonight!”

“Well, I just saw everypony else closing up shop and thought it must be the thing to do. Have a nice night!”

~~~

Caramel and Cheerilee sat on a park bench, staring out at Ponyville as the lights of the town’s businesses winked out in rapid succession. Occasionally, one of them would open their mouths to say something, but then close it again, realizing that they had no reasonable explanation. Little by little, the street around them fell into darkness.

Caramel inched his hoof along the bench, letting it come to rest beside Cheerilee’s for a moment. When the mare didn’t move away, he tentatively took her hoof in his own. “Cheerilee, I just want to tell you—”

“Do you want to go back to my place?” Cheerilee said, looking down into her lap.

“Well, I… uh,” Caramel replied, his mouth rapidly drying. “Uh, sure, if that’s okay with you.”

Cheerilee gave him a small smile. “Well, at least it won’t be closed.” Hopping up, she pulled him up, refusing to release his hoof. “C’mon, I’ll make us dinner. It’s just on the other side of the park.”

“That’s sounds great!” Caramel replied, his heart beginning to quicken.

Together they trotted, then galloped, pounding their way through the park. As they crossed the bridge that ran over Ponyville’s stream, the echoes from their hooffalls clattered into the darkness. Without the background din of Ponyville’s nightlife, their sprint sounded like an stampede.

“Halt!” a voice rang out. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” Standing at the foot of the opposite side of the bridge, Officer Turnkey glared at them. Beside him, several officers held hammers and small signs mounted on long, wooden stakes.

Cheerilee sniffed, tossing her head. “Not that it’s any of your business, but we’re going home.”

“Not on this bridge, you’re not,” Turnkey growled, grabbing a sign from his subordinate and turning it for them to see. “You see this? ‘Bridge Closed For Repairs’ it says. And here you two are, running around on it like you don’t have a care in the world!”

“Well, you should have put a sign on this side of the bridge if you wanted ponies to stay off!” Caramel snapped, his eyebrows slamming together. “If you’d move out of the way, we’d get off of it!”

“Sorry. No can do,” Turnkey said, crossing his legs. “I’ve got orders not to let anyone walk on this bridge. You two will just have to stay there until the repairs are done.”

“Get out of my way, you nutjob!” Caramel said, his jaw jutting forward. He let go of Cheerilee’s hoof and started toward the end of the bridge.

“Oh, ‘Willful Disobedience of the Law’, eh? We’ll see about that.” Turnkey and his officers spread out, cracking their hooves.

“No! Wait! Wait!” Cheerilee through a leg around Caramel’s shoulder, hoping that the legendary Apple stubbornness wasn’t as strong in his line. “We’ll just go back the other way.”

“No, I’m afraid you won’t,” Turnkey said, pointing behind them. They both turned in time to see an officer hammer one of the signs into the path. With a bored expression, he adjusted it to sit perfectly perpendicular to the bridge, and then trotted away.

“That would be illegal,” Turnkey finished, narrowing his eyes.

“That’s it, I’ve had enough!” Caramel launched himself at the wall of troopers, dragging Cheerilee behind him. “Get out of my way!”

~~~

Cheerilee tilted Caramel’s head into the light, lightly touching the mouse that was growing beneath his eye. She whipped her hoof away as he hissed.

“Well, you shouldn’t have charged them!” she said, throwing her hooves up and wincing as they slammed into the roof of the paddy wagon.

“I didn’t think they’d actually try to stop us,” he muttered, looking away.

“Well, you figured wrong, didn’t you, buddy,” Turnkey said, smiling. Reclining in the front bench, he twirled his enormous key ring in one hoof, thoroughly enjoyed the scraping sound the keys made as they spun.

“Look, are you going to take us to jail or what?” Cheerilee spat, glaring at the officer through the metal grating. “We’ve been sitting here for hours!”

“No can do, filly,” Turnkey said, whistling. “Jail’s closed. Renovations.”

Caramel and Cheerilee banged their heads lightly against the wagon’s dirty walls, each privately wondering where they had gone wrong in their lives.

Date Twenty-Nine - Fan Fiction

The mare squeezed, tightening her grip on Cheerilee’s leg. “Soft Focus, I’ve seen all of your films. I’m such a huge fan!" Smiling from ear to ear, the mare’s eyes twinkled.

“Um, I hate to disappoint you,” Cheerilee answered, trying to pry the mare’s vice-like grip off of her leg, “but I think you’ve got the wrong mare.”

“Oh, of course,” the mare whispered, dropping Cheerilee an exaggerated wink. “I won’t tell a soul! I just wanted to say that I’ve loved you since She Wears the Saddle Now! It’s my favorite movie of all time.”

“But I’m not—”

The mare pressed her hoof to the side of her nose twice and smiled, winking again. “Right." Walking backwards, she disappeared once again into the bushes that surrounded restaurant’s patio.

Cheerilee turned back to Camshaft, her mouth gaping. “What in Equestria?”

The stallion snorted, a grin spreading across his broad face. “Why, Cheerilee! Why didn’t you mention your other career?" Leaning back in his chair, Cam pressed his hoof to his heart. “And here I thought we were telling each other our deepest secrets. You wound me!”

“Oh, shut up,” Cheerilee replied, tossing a balled-up napkin at the stallion's head. “I told you that weird things happen to me all the time!”

Cam speared a potato, popping it into his mouth. “Yeah, I guess you did. I just didn’t expect—”

“Just one more thing! Could I get your autograph?”

Cheerilee jerked her head back from the pen that was suddenly thrust at her face. “Look, I don’t want to be rude, but—”

“No, no! I get it,” the mare replied, digging into her saddlebag. “You’re eating. I know you like your space. It’s just, you know, this might be my only chance, and I’m such a huge, HUGE fan!" With a cry of triumph, she pulled out a small, leather-bound book and flipped through it rapidly. “See, I even have a page for you all set up! It’s got your picture and everything!”

Cheerilee sighed, pushing her chair away from the table. “Please listen to me. I’m not Soft Focus, okay." She tapped the glamour photo with her hoof. “See, it doesn’t even look like me. My mane isn’t straight, and my coat isn’t brown!”

The mare hopped from hoof to hoof, grinning. “And can I just say that your stylist must be excellent? I almost didn’t recognize you! You really put the ‘neat-o’ in ‘incognito!”

Cheerilee slapped a hoof over her face, growling. “Okay, whatever. If I sign your book will you leave us alone?”

“Absolutely!” the mare breathed. “Intruding is the last thing I want to do.”

Snatching the pen from the mare, Cheerilee scribbled a random looping signature on the photo. “There.”

The mare squealed, running in place. “Oh, thank you! This means so much to me!”

“Great,” Cheerilee said through a clenched jaw. “Now, I’d like to ask that—”

The mare reversed, wiggling back into the bushes. “I’m way ahead of you.”

“Ugh!” Cheerilee said, throwing her hooves up. “Why does it always—hey!”

Across the table, Cam’s shoulders shook as he tried to control his laughter. With a napkin firmly pressed over his lips, he squeezed his eyes closed. Despite his efforts, every so often, a few snort still escaped.

“Oh, I’m glad you find this so amusing!” Cheerilee said. She tried to give him a deep scowl, but she was beginning to catch his giggles.

Rocking back in his chair, Cam waved his hooves in surrender. “Please!” he gasped. “I’m going to explode if you keep making that face!" Wiping his streaming eye with the napkin, Cam slowly began to regain his composure. “Oh, I’m sorry, Cheerilee. I don’t mean to make fun of you, but that look you give her was just priceless. I can’t believe you signed the book!”

Leaning to one side, Cheerilee set her elbow on the table and rested her head on her hoof. “Well, what else was I going to do? I’m telling you, Cam, this happens all the—”

“Could I get a picture with you? I’m such a HUGE, HUGE, HUGE fan of everything you’ve ever done!”

Both ponies turned. Poking out from the bushes, the mare held out a large camera.

Cam stood, throwing his napkin down onto the table. “Okay, that’s enough. You’ve had your fun. Now leave us alone or I’ll call the manager.”

Launching herself from the bushes, the mare threw her leg around Cheerilee’s shoulders and pressed their heads firmly together. Smiling impossibly wide, she depressed the shutter. With blinding brilliance, the flash popped.

Spots swam before Cheerilee’s as she blinked rapidly. “Look, I’ve had about enough of…" Her vision slowly returning, she twisted and turned, looking for the mare.

“I tried to collar her, but she’s fast,” Camshaft said, frowning at the bushes. “Look, I’m going to go talk to somepony about this. Maybe they’ll move us inside.”

Cheerilee massaged her temple with one hoof and stuck a Brussel sprout with her fork. “Well, we’re almost done with dinner, let’s just finish and—”

Fast as lightning, a metal rod topped with a mechanical claw shot out from the foliage and snatched the sprout, then disappeared. “Eeeeeee!” said a muffled voice in the leaves. “Her sprout! Wait until I show the other guys at the film club!”

“That’s it,” Camshaft growled, plunging his hoof into the bushes. With a grunt, he lifted the mare out by the scruff of her neck and made his way across the patio as the other patrons turned to watch the struggle. “Time for you to leave.”

“Ow, hey! Let me go!” the mare shouted, kicking and flailing. Wiggling violently, she managed to free herself for a moment before Camshaft caught her leg. “SOFT FOCUS, I’LL LOVE YOU FOREVER!”

A murmur went up and raced around Cheerilee like wildfire.

“Did she say Soft Focus?”

“Is that Soft Focus over there?!”

“Hey, everypony! Guess who’s eating at Le Paturage?! SOFT FOCUS!”

Cheerilee hopped onto the table, waving her hooves before her. “No! I’m not Soft Focus! I don’t even look like her!”

The silverware chattered across the patio tables as the rhythmic pounding of hundreds of hooves grew ever stronger. Looking out over the hedge, she could see countless eyes, shining with excitement. Hundreds of mouths stretched into hungry grins. Pens and cameras appeared, and foals were held out for kissing. It was all descending on her like a tsunami.

“Just run!” Cam shouted, still struggling to hold down the crazed mare. “We’ll catch up later!”

Leaping from the tabletop, Cheerilee hurdled the hedge and galloped down the road. “I’M NOT SOFT FOCUS!” she bellowed over her shoulder.

Squealing in ecstasy, the crowd swelled.

And pursued.

Date Thirty - Smother (Guest Chapter by Eakin)

Guest chapter written by Eakin

Cheerilee twisted her fork to wrap up a few alfredo-covered noodles without much enthusiasm. Outwardly she plastered a friendly smile on her face, one she’d honed over far too many evenings like this one.

Well, not exactly like this one.

“Compliment your date, Poochie-kins,” said the elderly earth pony mare who’d unexpectedly been waiting at their table when the two arrived.

Poochie-kins, as if the given name of Popper didn’t stand out enough already, gritted his teeth. “I was about to, Mom. You really don’t have to—”

“Oh, nonsense. And don’t get snippy with me, young colt.”

Popper sighed. “Sorry, Mom. You look very nice tonight, Cheerilee.”

“Thank you, Popper,” replied Cheerilee. She meant it, too. When the usually shy stallion had come up to her in the market and asked her to dinner, she’d been genuinely happy to accept. He was cute, if a bit quiet. She’d wondered at the time why a more assertive mare hadn’t snapped him up already.

She didn’t wonder that anymore.

“I’m so sorry about my little Poochie-kins, Cheerilee. He’s a bit too much of a wimp for his own good.”

I wonder why, thought Cheerilee, her smile growing a bit more strained. “So, Popper, why don’t you tell me a little more about your special talent.” A steam engine for a cutie mark could mean all manner of things. Cheerilee had passed the time earlier that night wondering what it would be like to be whisked away on an adventure to some far off corner of Equestria, travelling the world by rail and discovering who-knows-what in the exotic lands beyond the nation’s borders. But those fantasies were increasingly intruded upon by an unwelcome second travel companion in her mind.

“Oh, you don’t want to hear about that,” said Popper’s mother before he could answer. “He builds model trains, in fact they’ve positively taken over my basement. Really, I don’t know how you can stand to spend so much time down there instead of going out and doing something meaningful with your life.” She turned to Cheerilee as the pink burning on Popper’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of scarlet beneath his azure coat. “Don’t worry though, once he focuses on something he’s really very capable. So how many foals did you say you wanted? Was it three or four?”

“I hadn’t mentioned that at all, actually,” said Cheerilee. Because I’m not insane she pointedly didn’t add, if only because she had to admit to herself that she wasn’t entirely sure that was even a true statement at this point. A mare could only take so much.

“Well, I’m sure that Maple will be just beautiful. That was my grandmother’s sister’s name. You wouldn’t mind using a name that’s run in my family for generations, would you? Of course you wouldn’t. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to start a big family? Why, I was three, no, at least five years younger than you when I got pregnant with Poochie-kins here. He’s been my entire world ever since.”

“Oh, I can believe it.” Cheerilee took a sip from her water glass so she wouldn’t have to suppress her smirk.

“Mother, I am begging you. Please let me and Cheerilee enjoy our dinner together. By ourselves,” pleaded the unicorn. Cheerilee added a silent prayer of her own to much the same effect.

“Nonsense, sweetie,” said Popper’s mother as the spark of hope in Cheerilee’s chest was ruthlessly smothered into nothingness. “You’d just babble on about your toy trains. No mare wants to hear about that.”

Sensing an opportunity to throw the poor stallion a lifeline, Cheerilee spoke up. “Actually, I used to put together model planes myself,” she said. A lie, but an innocent one that the other mare wouldn’t be able to call her out on unless she’d gone around asking about her to all her old friends and roommates. Which come to think of it wasn’t entirely outside of the realm of possibility.

That was a mistake. The other mare’s eyes lit up when she said that, and she threw an elbow into her son’s barrel in what she probably imagined was a subtle fashion. Popper nearly choked on his ravioli. When the coughing fit passed, Popper wiped the sauce from his mouth and looked up at Cheerilee. “Maybe I could show you my setup some time.”

“You really should.” Popper winced as his mother spoke up again. “They’re back at our home, down in his room. Along with his bed.” Cheerilee had never imagined another pony could blush this hard. “Don’t worry, from up in my room I can barely hear anything that goes on down there. Ooh, I’m so excited! Just think, by this time next year I could be foalsitting a newborn while you two are out celebrating the anniversary of your first date together!”

“That is IT!” bellowed Popper, slamming a hoof onto the table and standing up from his seat. Cheerilee sank down deeper into hers as all other conversation in the restaurant ceased. “I can’t take this anymore, Mom! I’m trying to have a nice dinner with a very pretty mare who I’ve had a crush on for the last few weeks, and you are ruining it!”

“Poochie-kins!” hissed his mother, “don’t throw a tantrum. You’re making a scene!”

“My name is Popper! I’m not a foal and it’s time you stopped treating me like one.” His mother was too stunned to respond as Popper turned to Cheerilee, who was doing her very best invisible pony impression but to no avail. “Cheerilee, I apologize to you on my and my mother’s behalf for the way this dinner has gone. Please believe that I had no idea she was going to be joining us. If you want to leave and never speak to me again, I certainly wouldn’t blame you.” He took a breath, and gulped. “On the other hoof, if you might see fit to give me a second chance I’d like to take you somewhere else, just the two of us. Anywhere you’d like.” He turned his head and glared across the table. “And my mother will not be coming with us.” She stuttered and stammered under the withering look, but said nothing.

“I...” Cheerilee thought for a moment, then looked from the proffered hoof up to the face of the pony offering it. He was earnestly smiling even through his anxiety as he waited for her answer. “...I would like that.”

Cheerilee took Popper’s hoof and let him help her up. She tried to ignore the way his mother was glaring daggers at her as she gathered up her things as quickly as she could and followed Popper out of the restaurant. As they stepped out of the stifling air of the dining room and into the cool, tranquil night, Popper threw back his head and laughed. “Wow!” he said, a wide grin spreading across his face, “I have wanted to do that for years!”

Cheerilee had to chuckle a bit as they walked down the street together. It didn’t escape her notice that there was a spring in his step and he strode a great deal more confidently than on their walk over from her place. “I’ll bet you have. Was she always like that?”

“You know, she beat me down so much that I’m only just now realizing just how bad it was. Well, it’s over. I’m moving out of that basement first thing tomorrow. It’s long overdue. Got a spare bedroom in your house?”

Cheerilee laughed, but the laughter died in her throat when she looked at him and saw him looking right back at her with a thoughtful look on his face, expecting an actual answer. “...What?”

“I don’t need a lot of space. Just a table to set up my models and a place to sleep. Do you cook?”

Cheerilee barely heard the question over the sound of the alarm bells clanging away in her head. “Sometimes, but—”

“My mother has the best eggplant parmesan recipe, it’s my favorite. I’ll ask her to give it to you so you can learn it. And I’ll show you how I like my clothes folded when they come out of the washing machine, and... Cheerilee? Cheerilee, slow down.” He picked up his pace as he began to fall further and further behind Cheerilee. She looked back and saw that he’d sped up to try to keep up with her. Abandoning all pretense, she broke into a full-on gallop and tore down the street away from Popper. The last thing she heard carried along by the wind was a keening wail and a single word.

“MOMMYYYYYYYYYYYYY!”

Date Thirty-One - Unreported (Guest Chapter by Eakin)

Guest chapter written by Eakin

Twilight Sparkle. She was actually on a date with Twilight Sparkle.

It was still impossible for her to believe. When the mare had dropped by the school house late that afternoon because she’d found a book in her collection she ‘thought might help you come up with a science lesson for your foals,’ (the book in question being an 800-page text on superstring theory) it had been a rather transparent pretense. Still, Twilight had hemmed and hawed for nearly forty-five minutes before she’d taken out a foot-thick sheaf of papers and wordlessly pushed it across Cheerilee’s desk.

The only words on the title page were Why You Should Go Out With Me: Volume One. And now she was actually on a date with Twilight Sparkle, sitting out on the patio of the Grassy Knoll under the gorgeous display of aurora borealis that Twilight had gotten Luna to put on as a personal favor and digesting a delicious meal. She’d called in a favor from one of the princesses just because she wanted Cheerilee to have the perfect night. As if she were the pony with something to prove. As if being a national hero who just happened to be brilliant and adorable in her own dorky way weren’t enough on its own.

“...and then the first scientist said, ‘That’s no entangled quantum superposition, that’s my wife!’” finished Twilight. Cheerilee blinked several times before she realized that her date had just delivered the punchline to the joke she’d been telling for the last seven minutes. Frankly she’d lost track of exactly what was going on when Twilight had gone off on the tangent about the operation of the particle accelerator. By the time she figured out that she needed to laugh, it was far too late. Twilight sighed and hung her head. “Sorry. I guess I didn’t tell it very well. I was cracking up for hours the first time Celestia told it to me.”

“It just took me a second to get it,” said Cheerilee. When Twilight didn’t look up, Cheerilee reached across the table to lay her hooves over Twilight’s. “Really. I’m having a good time being with you.”

“I guess,” said Twilight, sounding unconvinced. “It’s just that when I get nervous sometimes I tend to ramble. It’s not an uncommon side effect of mild to moderate social anxiety, in fact about two centuries ago Dr. Inkblot did a study by dividing ponies that had reported having issues with rambling into two groups and... and I’m doing it right now, aren’t I?”

“Kind of,” said Cheerilee, unable to control the silly grin stretched across her face. She chided herself a little for enjoying the cute little pout on Twilight’s face as much as she did, but it was just too adorable not to.

“Damn it, I’m sorry,” muttered Twilight. “I can’t shake the feeling that this must be just about the worst date you’ve ever been on.”

Cheerilee stared across the table, gaping at the scared mare. And then she did something that probably wasn’t entirely advisable, but she couldn’t help herself.

She started to laugh.

The laugh grew in her belly and forced its way out, first in a single guffaw and then more and more until it had overwhelmed her entirely. She doubled over and her forehead shook the table when it struck the surface, but she didn’t even feel it. The laugh went on and on, until tears streamed down her cheeks and her abdomen hurt more than the time Rarity had talked her into attending a ninety-minute pilates class with her. When Cheerilee had finally regained enough control to look up at Twilight, she saw the mare looking down at her with an unreadable expression. “No, Twilight. No it isn’t. Nothing could be further from the truth.”

“Really?” asked Twilight. “You aren’t just saying that?”

“Really,” said Cheerilee, and the joyful smile she got from Twilight in return made her heart skip a beat. How did she do it? How was she making Cheerilee feel this stupidly happy? Sure, she’d been to the library on occasion over the years, one of the few ponies who used it for its intended purpose of lending out books. Although they’d chatted before, Cheerilee had been totally oblivious to Twilight’s attraction. Still she’d always been fond of the unicorn, and could already feel that fondness welling up in her soul and threatening to blossom into something more. “So dinner was amazing. What did you want to do next?”

“Well, I’ve arranged for a number of possible follow-up activities,” said Twilight, a scroll of paper appearing in her magic from nowhere. “We could go for a walk in the park, or there’s karaoke night at the Sun’s Flank, or, um...” she started to blush, “...you could read me some of your poetry. I’d really like that, actually.”

Cheerilee raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Poetry? I don’t write poetry. Did somepony tell you that I did?”

Twilight’s mouth made a little ‘O’ of surprise at the revelation. “I... huh. I could have sworn that you did, but I suppose you would know, right? There’s just something kind of poetic about you. Well, my mistake. I’ll have to go back and remember to rewrite that scene tomorrow.” She turned her head and then went rigid, the eye on the side of her head that Cheerilee could see from where she was sitting beginning to grow wide.

“What do you mean ‘rewrite that scene?’” asked Cheerilee, more curious than anything.

“Rewrite a scene? Is that what you think I said?” asked Twilight, refusing to make eye contact with her. “I didn’t say that. Ha! It’s funny, because of how much that isn’t what I said. What I actually said... I said that I have to rebite that spleen! Wait, that isn’t better.”

“Twilight...”

“No! I have relight that sheen! Of my coat! With this new conditioner. What’s your favorite kind of conditioner, or what the hay, any sort of manecare product? Why don’t you describe your ten favorites in excruciating detail. Inquiring minds want to know! Wow, is it hot in here or is it just you? Me. I meant me, but only if that was an excessive level of innuendo for this stage of our relationship not that we have anything that we’d have to call a relationship if you’d rather not we could just gaaaaaah why am I still talking?”

“Twilight, come on now,” said Cheerilee. The way Twilight’s chest was heaving as the manic unicorn started to gasp for breath was beyond worrying. All the ponies at other tables were watching the two of them now. Spotting Twilight Sparkle’s oncoming panic attacks was something the ponies of Ponyville learned to do very, very quickly. The ones who didn’t enjoy being turned into assorted varieties of fruit did, at least. “First of all, we’re outside. Second of all, why would I get upset just because you wrote a story? Why would me liking poetry factor into it at all?”

“Well, verisimilitude is important,” said Twilight. “A couple months ago I couldn’t sleep, so I decided I’d start writing, just to pass the time. That’s even how I picked the penname I used for it, Insomniac Pony, just as a joke. It’s mostly a love story, and one of the characters... she’s kind of based on you a little bit. Just a bit.”

Cheerilee stared at her. Okay, that wasn’t so weird. Twilight loved reading, it made sense that she would try a hoof at writing herself one day. Honestly, it was hard to believe she wasn’t published a dozen times over already. Not when she was so amazing at everything she did. And didn’t all writers base characters on the ponies they knew? If anything, Cheerilee was flattered. “Based on me how?”

“Well, she’s an earth pony mare...”

Cheerilee rolled her eyes. “So are most of the mares in this town. That’s hardly—”

“And she’s a teacher,” continued Twilight, cutting her off.

“Well, that’s a little more specific but it’s still not—”

“And her name is Cheerilee.”

The conversation ground to a screeching halt, leaving Cheerilee with a certain degree of emotional whiplash. “So just a bit, then.”

“Yeah, little bit,” said Twilight. She sighed and slumped down onto the table, covering her head with her forelegs.

“So am I the protagonist of this story of yours? And what’s it called?” asked Cheerilee. In her heart, she suspected the answer. And she found herself hoping that she was right.

“I was going to call it A Study of Social Customs Pertaining and Relating to Modern Courtship. But that was a mouthful so I decided to go with Romance Reports instead.”

Cheerilee slowly nodded. “Yes, that’s probably a better title. But you didn’t answer my other question.”

“No, you... she isn’t the main character. She’s the protagonist’s love interest.”

“And that protagonist. I bet she’s ‘just a bit’ based on somepony else.”

Twilight looked up at her, a pleading look in her eyes as a tear started to trickle down her cheek. “She’s me. I’m sorry, Cheerilee, I shouldn’t have told you. Hell, I shouldn’t have even written the stupid thing. I mean some of it... some of it gets a bit explicit.”

“Just a bit?” asked Cheerilee. It was meant to draw at least a chuckle from the morose little unicorn across from her, but it only managed to elicit a groan.

“A lot more than a bit, in this case. It’s just that I thought maybe if I wrote the perfect love story for us, then someday... someday it might actually come true. And now I wrecked everything.” Then Twilight perked up. “I can fix this.”

Her eye twitched, and everypony else out on the patio bolted leaving their half eaten meals forgotten. Nopony wanted to be inside the blast radius when that eye started to twitch. “There’s nothing you have to fix, Twilight. You don’t have to—”

“It’s alright, Cheerilee. You think I’m weird now. Probably a freaky stalker too. I mean, I am pretty weird. Eight or nine standard deviations from the typical pony at the least, but I had a plan to ease you into the weirdness over time, so you always liked me enough to overlook that. The alternate ending I wrote where you walk away and leave me was supposed to be non-canonical, and I’m going to make sure it stays that way.”

“To overlook...” Cheerilee trailed off. Why would she want to overlook anything about Twilight Sparkle? If anything, she wanted to embrace that weirdness. Wrap her legs around it, pull it against her, and never let it go. Sitting across from her was a pony who had written what she considered to be the perfect love story, and she’d cast Cheerilee in the most important role.

Twilight wasn’t the only mare who wanted to see that love story come true.

“Right,” said Twilight, oblivious to the internal monologue that was screaming at Cheerilee to leap across the table, tackle Twilight to the ground, and kiss everything all better. “But like I said, I can fix this. I know just the spell.” Magic started to spark from her horn.

“Twilight, don’t do anything drastic...” said Cheerilee, well aware that there were a billion different things that could go wrong in the next few seconds. Just make her see, she thought, make her realize you want to fall for her exactly the way she is.

“Don’t worry!” declared Twilight, her eye’s twitch spreading into little spasms of her head and neck that she didn’t seem to be aware of. “It’s not anything serious, I’ll just wipe your memory of this happening at all!”

“What?” asked Cheerilee. The magic was growing more intense now, rattling plates and silverware as the light grew blinding. “You can’t do that!”

“Sure I can!” yelled Twilight over the roar of the half completed incantation. “The spell’s not that tricky, and it’s completely painless. I’ll figure out what went wrong with tonight, rework my approach, practice for maybe a decade or so, and then I’ll have a second chance to give you the first date you deserve! It’s a flawless plan!”

“No!” yelled Cheerilee right back at her. “You can’t do this because I won’t remember to tell you that I love—”

~~~

Cheerilee came to in her bedroom, waking with the rising sun. It was the oddest thing; she couldn’t remember anything about last night. She remembered going in, teaching a full day, then... nothing. Just a big, gaping hole where her memories should have been.

She hadn’t been drinking, had she? She certainly didn’t feel hungover, she just couldn’t remember no matter how hard she tried. It nagged at her, and when she concentrated really, really hard a tiny glimmer of a piece of a memory finally surfaced. Something about a date.

She scoffed, and put the entire thing out of her mind. If she’d had a date last night, then in all likelihood not remembering it was the best thing that could ever happen to her.

Date Thirty-Two - Things Better Left Unsled

Cheerilee barely had time to register the snow-covered spruce as they whizzed by it. They’d been close enough that she could have reached out and touched the bark, if she hadn’t minded losing the hoof in the process. By the time she was even aware of the trees, they were gone.

In front, Downdraft tugged at the toboggan’s reins, trying to elicit some level of response. Despite pulling left and right with all of her might, they seemed to only be traveling in one direction: straight down the slope.

“I think we’re going to have to bail!” Cheerilee yelled over the wind.

Downdraft shot her a panicked glance over her shoulder. “Did you say something?!”

Cheerilee leaned as far forward as she could manage, cupping her hoof around the pegasus’ mint-green ear. “I said we’re going to have to bail out! We’re going way too fast!”

Down stiffened, whipping her head around. “You’re crazy! We’ll be torn to shr—”

Both mares screamed as the toboggan hit a hidden stone, lurching to the right and leaping into the air. Nonononono! Cheerilee thought, leaning as hard as she could to the left. We’re going to—

Cheerilee’s teeth slammed together as the toboggan hit the hard-packed snow with bone-rattling force. Stunned, she shook her head vigorously.

“Knock it off!” Down called over her shoulder. To Cheerilee, it seemed that the pegasus’ eyes were roughly the size of dinner plates. “This is hard enough without thinking that you’re falling off back there!”

“I’m not the one who sent us down the Mountain of No Return!” Cheerilee snapped, glaring at the pegasus. “You said we were going on the bunny slope!”

Cords of muscles stood out on Downdraft’s neck as she hauled the toboggan’s steering cable to the right. “This—ergh—is the bunny slope!” The pair leaned as far as they dared, and the toboggan barely missed a thicket of gnarled shrubs. “This is where Cloudsdale trains for the All-Equestria Winter Games! It’s the warm-up course!”

Cheerilee was thankful that she was holding onto the toboggan so tightly. The urge to throttle the pegasus was growing. “Are you crazy?! You took me on a professional course?!”

“I didn’t think it was going to be like this!” Downdraft yelled, her face equal parts terror and embarrassment. “I just wanted to get our blood stirred up, you know!”

“Well, you’ve done an outstanding job!”

“Look, I really don’t appreciate your—”

The mares screamed and threw their hooves around one another as the toboggan slammed into something hidden in the snow. For a brief moment, they were spinning, sliding sideways around whatever they’d hit. Cheerilee found herself staring at the rapidly receding lodge. They were traveling full tilt down the mountain while facing uphill.

“Fly us out of here!” Cheerilee screeched, burying her face into the back of Downdraft’s parka.

Down shook her head. “I can’t! M-my wings never fully developed! I can only glide a little bit!”

“Okay, okay!” Cheerilee yelled, her breath coming in increasingly ragged gasps. Panic was threatening to overwhelm her. “We need to do something or we’re going to break every bone in our bodies!”

“I’m open to suggestions!”

Cheerilee whipped her head around, trying to look everywhere at once. It was almost a relief that she couldn’t see where they were going anymore. Well, until she allowed herself to think about it. We’ve got to get turned around! If we don’t, we’re going to hit something eventually!

On instinct, Cheerilee thrust her hoof into the snow. Snow flew into the air as she fought to keep her leg from being torn from its socket. “Help. Me,” she growled, clutching her other hoof around the hoofhold of the toboggan with all her strength. “We’ve got to try and spin this thing around.

Downdraft plunged her hoof into the snow, gasping as the mountain threatened to dislocate something. Together, they cursed and grunted, showering themselves in snow.

“This isn’t working!” Down called back, lifting her hoof from the snow. Cheerilee could see it throbbing from the intense friction.

“Yes it is!” Cheerilee whooped as the toboggan finally began to swing around. It had taken a while for the momentum to shift, but with a stomach-lurching twist, the sled had finally relented and turned to face back down the hill.

Just in time for the pair to see the approaching drop.

Cheerilee’s pupils shrank to pinpoints as she watch the precipice approach. Desperately, she looked for any place for them to ditch the sled, but they were far off the established course, and it seemed like bone-crushing boulders were everywhere. “Okay, okay! Let’s—”

“Sorry!” Downdraft called back, launching herself into the air.

Cheerilee stared after the fleeing pegasus, her mouth agape. “Hey!” I thought you said you couldn’t fly!”

The pegasus stopped, turning in midair. She twisted her hooves around one another as she flushed. “Um… well… It’s just that I’m not a very strong flyer. If I tried to carry you, I-I might drop you. Or… or maybe—”

“I’LL TAKE THE CHANCE!” Cheerilee cried. Twisting back around, she could see the cliff’s edge approaching more rapidly than she’d dreamed was possible.

Down fretted, massaging her hoof. “Yeah, but now my hoof is all hurty from that snow. I probably won’t be able to grip all that well.”

“I’LL DO ENOUGH GRIPPING FOR THE TWO OF US! JUST COME DOWN HERE AND GET ME!

“But… but what if—”

Cheerilee’s screams cut off whatever Downdraft was attempting to say. Suddenly, the earth pony was in flight. Despite the logical part of her mind emphatically telling her to do no such thing, Cheerilee leaned to the side, taking in the open space between the toboggan and the ground far below.

Everything seemed still. The teacher barely felt the breeze as it rustled her mane. Below, she could see curious birds in the trees staring up at her. Nearby, an elk chewed thoughtfully and watched her arc overhead. It all seemed absurdly tranquil, and Cheerilee jumped when something tapped her on the shoulder.

“Um… if you make it, come by and see me, ’kay?”

Cheerilee lunged for the pegasus, but missed as Downdraft fanned her wings and caught a thermal. Rising, the pegasus curled her hoof to wave a tiny good-bye before angling away.

~~~

Cheerilee’s eyes fluttered open, but she wished that they hadn’t. Everything ached.

“You okay, down there?” a voice called out.

“No, not really,” she answered faintly.

“Well, don’t you worry none. I’ll have you out in a jiffy.”

Cheerilee smiled weakly, the sounds of frantic digging drifting down from somewhere outside the snowy prison she found herself in. At least she wasn’t going to have to extract herself from this mess. Packed in as she was, she couldn’t assess the damage, but if what her body was reporting was accurate, it was far less than she’d feared. “How is that even possible?” she muttered as the scraping sounds grew closer.

“Darnest thing I ever did see!” the voice called out, much closer this time. “You just came a-slidin’ off that hill and plunged straight into this huge pile of snow. They probably saw the powder flyin’ up into the air all the way in Canterlot!” The voice cackled briefly. “I’ll bet my antlers they did! Okay, almost got you outta there.”

A bright beam of sunlight lanced in, causing Cheerilee to squint suddenly. She grinned as the elk brushed away more of the snow. “So,” she said, spitting out a glob of snow that had fallen into her mouth, “have any plans later tonight?”

Date Thirty-Three - Oh, Deer

Date Thirty-Three - Oh, Deer

Cheerilee ran her hoof over the polished figurine, examining the wooden doe’s fine detailing. “Ponoka, this is simple amazing! How long did this take you?”

The tawny elk shrugged. “Oh, I don’t recall exactly. Some few weeks." Ponoka pulled back the curtains to the nearby window. With practiced ease, he looped a leather tie around them and then hung them behind a nearby peg. “Time don’t mean so much way up here in the mountains," he said, nodded absently toward the window. “You get your mind a-workin’ on some task and the days just drift by.”

Cheerilee turned the doe over again. Even the bottoms of the cloven hooves were immaculately carved and stained. No detail had been ignored. “This belongs in a museum.”

Ponoka snorted out a laugh.

“No, really!" Cheerilee said, placing the figurine back onto a crowded shelf. “Just look at all of these! I’ve attended entire exhibitions with worse!”

Ponoka shook his head, barely missing a hanging lantern with his antlers. “Miss, it’s a dangerous business gettin’ airs about your crafts. It’s like to make a simple mountain elk do somethin’ foolish." Chuckling, Ponoko trotted to the kitchen. Opening a cabinet, he retrieved two sturdy tumblers and filled them with a dark, cloudy cider. “You start believin’ you’re really somethin’ special, and all of a sudden you’re at some fancy party, eatin’ teeny-tiny sandwiches and starin’ at canvases all painted different colors of blue or somethin’." He shuddered theatrically. “Thanks, but no thanks. Here," he finished, passing a glass to his guest.

Cheerilee opened her mouth to protest, but collapsed into giggles instead. “I… I’ve been to that party!" she snorted. “I’ve probably been to a hundred of them!”

Ponoka hooked her leg, leading her to the couch. “See? Three or four wasted hours for all of y’all, just because some fella decided his work was too fancy to just sell down at the general store." Sitting ramrod straight, Ponoka curled his lip in an aristocratic sneer and cleared his throat. “I expect by now you’ve noted the marriage of Neo-Classical to Dobbinism that the piece evokes," he said, his words dripping with culture. “What you’ve experienced is symphony realized in physical form. The piece is musical—lyrical—with integrated harmonies of—”

Catching each other’s eyes, they burst out laughing.

“Oh!" Cheerilee managed. “Oh, sweet Celestia! It’s just like that! I—oops!" Cheerilee grimaced as cider sloshed out of her glass and onto the braided rug.

Ponoka hopped off the couch and opened a drawer on a nearby end table. “Don’t pay that no mind," he said, pulling out a small towel. Dropping it onto the floor, he stepped on the towel several times. “That’s why I made it brown in the first place.”

Cheerilee leaned forward, examining the rugs intricate pattern. “You made this, too?”

Ponoka swept his hooves around the small cabin. “Made just about everythin’ you see here. Not much help for a body way up here. You’ve got to do for yourself if you want it done, you see.”

“Well, it’s certainly—”

Several loud raps on the door silenced the pair.

Ponoka’s brow furrowed as he turned. “Now who could be callin’ on me at this hour?”

“Open up!" a muffled voiced called out. “I heared all about the fast one you’re tryin’ to pull, Ponoka!”

“Oh, for the love of…" Ponoka briefly squeezed his eyes closed, frowning, before rising with a heavy sigh. Scowling, he trotted to the door and wrenched it open. “What in the world are you goin’ on about?”

A dark grey elk pushed his way into the cabin. “You know darn well what I’m gettin’ at! I heared from—aha!" His eyes flying wide, the elk pointed his hoof repeated at Cheerilee. “Caught red-hoofed! Caught in the very act!”

Ponoka placed a restraining hoof on the newcomer’s chest, preventing him from entering any further. “Ain’t no act to catch us in, Tuktu! We’re just here talkin’!”

Tuktu’s chest swelled as he glowered at Ponoka. “A likely story!”

Cheerilee felt the pressure in her head beginning to build. “Should I even ask what is going on?" she asked the ceiling as she tipped her head back.

“Oh, I’ll tell you what’s goin’ on, miss!" Tuktu replied, knocking Ponoka’s hoof away. “We’ve got an elk who thinks he can get about his business without a proper rut!”

Cheerilee’s head snapped back down. “A what?”

“Criminy, Tuktu!" Ponoka said, shaking his head. “We ain’t bothered with a rut since… well, since I don’t know when! A long time!”

Tuktu’s jaw jutted forward. “That ain’t neither here nor there! This province is a ruttin’ province! If you wanted that new fangled free-love nonsense, then you should have moved to Whinneypeg with the rest of those art students!”

Ponoka took a deep breath, then exhaled it slowly. “Look," he said with forced patience, “there are just some laws on the books that don’t matter no more. The rut is one of ’em." He tipped an antler to where Cheerilee sat. “I just pulled her outta a snowpile when she took a bad tumble. It ain’t like we’re courtin’ anyhow.”

Tuktu rolled his eyes, his lip curling. “Oh, that’s just what I’d expect from a ten pointer like you. Hidin’ behind a mare’s tail.”

For a moment, the room fell silent. Cheerilee felt her skin crawl as Ponoka’s eyes narrowed.

“What did you call me?" he asked finally in a low voice.

Tuktu grinned. “Looks like I touched a nerve! You ashamed, Ponoka?" Tuktu drew himself up to his full height, pointing to his impressive rack. “Don’t you worry about it none. Not everybody can be a fourteen pointer like me."

Cheerilee hoof poked the air repeatedly as she silently counted. “Hold on, hold on. What are you talking about?" she asked. “I count fourteen on both of you.”

Crossing one hoof casually over the other, Tuktu arched an eyebrow at the fuming elk. “It ain’t what outside that matters. Ol’ Ponoka here is a ten pointer through and through. Ain’t never been a challenge he didn’t back down from.”

“Oh, is that right?" Ponoka growled, lowering his antlers. “The way I remember it, you sure came around an awful lot when I was rubbin’ off my first velvet. Ain’t seen you so much since then. You think you can take me? Well, come on!”

Tuktu snarled and slammed his antlers into Ponoka’s. Wrenching his head to the side, he dragged Ponoka into the end table. Tottering briefly, it fell over, spilling the drawer’s contents across the rug.

Cheerilee jumped off the couch. Skipping out of the way, she waved her hooves over her head. “Stop it! Stop it!" she cried. “There’s no need for this! I’m… I’m not that kind of mare! We haven’t even gotten to know each other!”

“Sorry. About. This," Ponoka said through gritted teeth. “It aint… exactly what I… had planned for tonight.”

“Truer words ain’t never been spoken," Tuktu growled, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He widened his stance, and then hunched his shoulders and pushed forward. Ponoka hooves scrambled to find purchase as he was forced backwards. “Doesn’t take half a brain to figure out what you had planned!”

His face turning a deep crimson beneath his light fur, Ponoka twisted his neck. With a startled cry, Tuktu was wrenched off of his hooves. “That’s probably why you’re here, Tuktu!" he spat, driving foward to keep the larger elk off balance. “Half a brain is half more than you were born with.”

“I’d rather have no brains than no guts, Ten Point!”

Cheerilee leaned against the wall, banging her head repeated against it as the pair smashed through the dining room set. “Is this going to go on for much longer?" she shouted over the din.

“Probably a few hours," Ponoka replied.

“You. Wish!" Tuktu panted. “You just hold tight, ma’am. I’ll breed you nice and proper once I’m done remindin’ ol’ Ten Point here how a real elk conducts hisself!”

Cheerilee sighed and pushed herself away from the wall. “I can hardly wait," she said, rolling her eyes. Trotting to the kitchen, she opened one cabinet after another.

Ponoka snarled and sent his opponent flying into a coffee table. “Over the sink," he said as Tuktu pulled himself out of the splintered wreckage. With a snort, they slammed into each other once more.

Cheerilee opened the cabinet and pulled down a bottle of whisky. Pouring out the remains of her cider, she tipped a shotfull into the glass. With another heavy sigh she lifted it to her lips.

Across from her, the elks careened through the room. Cheerilee winced as they smashed several windows and knocked over the couch.

Eyeing the glass critically, she set it back down on the counter and poured a rather more generous portion of the whisky into it.

“Better make this a triple.”

Somewhere around a corner, a body slammed into the wall with a loud grunt.

Cheerilee pursed her lips and nodded. “Definitely a triple.”

Date Thirty-Four - Speed Dating (Guest Chapter by Metool Bard)

Guest chapter written by Metool Bard

Dear Ms. Cheerilee:

I have heard about your predicament, and I wanted to do something to help you out. I’ve taken the liberty of setting you up on a blind date with a good friend of mine. He’s someone you might be familiar with, actually.

His name is Crescent Moon, and he works for the Wonderbolts. I think you two will hit it off just fine. Meet him at his place at 17:00 (that’s 5:00 your time) if you’re interested.

~A friend

Cheerilee couldn’t help but read the anonymous letter over and over again as she walked through Ponyville. It had warning signs written all over it. Not only did she not know the pony who sent it (it could be a prank, for all she knew), but going on a blind date meant not knowing what to expect. And in Cheerilee’s experience, that was a recipe for disaster.

Even so, she had to admit that this Crescent Moon fellow seemed like a nice pony. She had often seen him flying around town while she was out at the marketplace. He certainly looked attractive enough and had an aura of politeness about him. Plus, he worked for the Wonderbolts; the most prestigious team of elite flyers in Equestria. The Wonderbolts wouldn’t hire just anypony to work for them. How weird could he be, really?

“I guess I’ll find out,” Cheerilee mused as she approached a small house at the edge of the town square. Pausing, she shook her head. “No, think positive, Cheerilee. Remember what happened the last time you let your paranoia get the better of you. He’s probably a swell guy, and we’ll both have a wonderful time together. If something completely unexpected doesn’t happen, that is…”

Cheerliee’s voice trailed away a she chewed at her bottom lip, a series of escalating disasters running through her imagination. As her heart began to pound, she tapped her forehead smartly with her hoof.

“No, don’t think about that,” she said. “Just focus on the present.”

After taking a while to get herself in the right mindset, she knocked on the door. Straight away, it flew open, revealing a handsome yet rather ragged-looking pegasus stallion.

“AhyoumustbeMsCheerileehowareyouI’mfinepleasecomeonin!” said the stallion in one breath.

Before Cheerilee could respond in any way, shape, or form, the stallion grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into the living room. Cheerilee hopped, barely avoiding a mountain of paper laying on the floor. Everywhere she looked, timesheets, calendars, and events planners were piled in precarious stacks. Every inch of the wall space seemed to have stats and charts pinned on it, and an overabundance of clocks of all shapes and sizes ticked out a mad rhythm.

“Pleasepleasehaveaseat!” said the stallion, gesturing to a blue couch behind Cheerilee.

“Oh. Well, thank you,” said Cheerilee, still having difficulty processing the situation. “Um, you wouldn’t happen to be Crescent Moon, would you?”

“IndeedIam,” said the stallion. “AndmayIsayit’sapleasureto…”

“Hold on, hold on,” interrupted Cheerilee, raising her hoof. “Could you... slow down a bit? I’m having trouble keeping up.”

“Hmm? Ohrightsorry,” said the stallion, taking a deep breath. “I’m just in such a rush right now. Anyway, as I was saying, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

“Um, likewise, I guess,” said Cheerilee, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly. “Uh, Crescent… Do you mind if I call you Crescent?”

“Not at all, not at all! It saves time,” said Crescent. “So, I was thinking we could go somewhere nice for dinner.”

Cheerilee’s expression brightened. “Oh, well that sounds…”

“Wait, sorry. Nix that idea,” said Crescent, looking at one of the calendars on the wall. “I forgot that I have something important tomorrow morning. I can’t go out to dinner. How about a movie instead?”

“Oh. Okay,” said Cheerilee. “I’m actually interested in seeing…”

“Wait, wait! No, we can’t do that, either,” interrupted Crescent, checking another schedule. “I have to go through academy applications later this evening. I don’t have time for a movie. How about we just sit here and talk?”

Cheerilee blinked in confusion. If we’re not going out, then why did you bring up the possibility in the first place?! she thought. She took a deep breath and let her rage dissipate in a great sigh.

“That... actually sounds quite nice,” she said. “After all, nothing crazy can happen in the safety of one’s own home.”

Crescent raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing!” said Cheerilee, hastily casting her gaze upward. After a few awkward seconds, she cleared her throat. “So, I hear that you work for the Wonderbolts.”

“Yes, indeed. I am the Wonderbolts’ official caretaker,” said Crescent Moon, taking a seat next to Cheerilee.

Cheerilee tilted her head. “Caretaker?”

“Yes, you’re not the first pony to get confused by that,” said Crescent with a lighthearted chuckle. “Really, all it means is that I’m responsible for everything that happens behind-the-scenes. I sort their mail; keep their schedules; go through paperwork. You know, that sort of thing.”

“I see,” said Cheerilee, looking around at all the schedules. “So, that’s what this is all about?”

“More or less,” said Crescent with a shrug. “I like to keep myself organized. Believe me, staying on top of all this is hard work, and it’s a job I take very seriously.”

“I can imagine,” said Cheerilee with a giggle. “Actually, the foals I work with keep me on the run, too. I’m actually lucky to be catching a break like this.”

“Mmm. You don’t say,” said Crescent with a nod. “I admire a pony who’s a hard worker. It’s nice that we have something in…”

Cheerliee jumped as the clock at her elbow began to ring.

Crescent held up a hoof, smiling apologetically. “Hold on a moment. I need to proofread Spitfire’s opening speech for the Q&A panel the Wonderbolts are hosting later this week. Back in a jiffy.”

Before Cheerilee could say anything, he dashed off into another room. After a few seconds, he returned.

“There we are. All done,” he said. “Now then, what was it we were talking about?”

“Uh, that you admire hard workers,” said Cheerilee. “Um, Crescent, don’t you think you could’ve done that before our date?”

“Well, that was the plan,” said Crescent. “However, this date was very last-minute, and I had to rearrange my entire schedule. Honestly, I’m way behind as it is.”

“Well, what were you doing before I got here?”

“Getting my place ready for your arrival.”

Cheerilee took a quick look around. Indeed, the living room was extremely neat and tidy, with the exception of all the schedules lining the walls and the papers on the floor. But apart from that, there wasn’t a speck of dirt or dust to be found anywhere. Even the papers were stacked into nice, neat piles.

“Wow. So I see,” said Cheerilee. “Still, you should probably…”

Another clock’s alarm went off. “Hold that thought, Cheerilee. I have to alphabetize the roster for the next Wonderbolt Derby,” said Crescent. With that, he took off again.

“Alphabetize the roster?” Cheerilee wondered aloud.

In a few seconds, Crescent returned again. “So sorry about that,” he sighed. “Now then, you were saying?”

“I was saying that maybe you should consider taking a vacation,” said Cheerilee.

Crescent blinked. “What’re you talking about? I am on vacation.”

Cheerilee’s eyes went wide. “You are on vacation?” she parroted.

“Just as I said,” said Crescent. “Although Captain Spitfire says that I have no grasp of the concept. She’s actually quite a kidder, believe it or not.”

I… don’t think she’s kidding, was what Cheerilee wanted to say. Instead, she forced a smile and said, “So, you get along with Spitfire, I take it?”

“Oh, of course,” said Crescent. “Captain Spitfire is a great boss. She even set up this date for me.”

Cheerilee’s jaw dropped. “Wait, Spitfire set this up?!” she exclaimed.

“In part,” said Crescent. “She said she was worried about me burning myself out or something, and that I had to separate my work life from my social life. Honestly, I have no idea what she’s talking about.”

I think I can hazard a guess, thought Cheerilee.

“So, she suggested that I go out on a date, I heard you were in the market for a special somepony, and we coordinated our efforts from there,” Crescent continued. He looked around nervously for a moment before leaning in close to Cheerilee and dipping his voice. “Just, don’t tell anypony about it, alright? Captain Spitfire doesn’t need the publicity.”

“Noted,” said Cheerilee with a nod. “Um, listen, Crescent. Maybe you should…”

Once again, she was interrupted by an alarm going off.

“Just a moment,” said Crescent, darting into the kitchen.

“Oh, what now?” Cheerilee groused.

In a matter of seconds, Crescent came back with two mugs.

“How about a cup of tea before you have to go?” he asked.

Cheerilee looked at one of the clocks on the wall. It was only ten after five.

“Um, Crescent. I just got here,” she said.

“Time waits for nopony, Cheerilee,” said Crescent with a shrug.

Finding herself unable to argue, Cheerilee stared blankly at the stallion for a moment before taking the cup, frowning. Taking a sip, she fought to keep herself from spitting it back into the cup. “Crescent, this tea is cold!”

“Hey, heating takes time!” Crescent exclaimed defensively. “And that’s time I don’t have!”

Before Cheerilee could point out how ridiculous that was, she found herself being shoved out the door.

“ThankyouverymuchCheerilee,” said Crescent. “Ireallyhadawonderfultime. Weshoulddothisagainsomeday. WellI’dbettergoresearchthatpierecipeSurprisewantedmetolookintoforSoarin’sbirthdaygoodbye!”

With that, he slammed the door.

“Er... Bye, Crescent,” said Cheerilee. She then started for home, wondering what had just happened.

I… I think that was my best date in weeks, Cheerilee thought, staring back at the door. Maybe I should send Spitfire a thank you card…

Date Thirty-Five - Batmare Ends (Guest Chapter by BronyWriter)

Guest chapter written by BronyWriter

Personal ads had lied before, and more egregiously, to boot. “Works out, good hair, handsome, adventurous, and is looking for a mare who can hold her own.”

Pudgy, dark peach fuzz that tried to pass for a mustache, a mane that went down to the top of his legs, and a comic book under his wing wasn’t quite what she had pictured when she had read the ad and agreed to meet this stallion at a local shop.

A local comic book shop.

Cheerilee grimaced and quietly exhaled as she stared at the establishment. Arching an eyebrow, she turned to her date. “Now, Stanley, I’m what you might call an ‘open minded mare,’ but… really? A comic book shop?”

“Oh don’t worry about it. I own the place, so I know you’ll love it!” Stanley said, bouncing like a schoolfilly towards the entrance of the establishment. “I have a wonderful surprise planned for you, Cheerimee, and I think the experience is going to bring us closer together!”

“It’s ‘Cheerilee,’ Stanley.”

Stanley nodded and waved his hoof. “Yes, yes, that’s what I said. Now come on in! Like I said, this is going to bring us closer together!”

“Not too much closer together,” Cheerilee grumbled, wishing the stallion had grasped the concept of deodorant. Despite her reservations, and realizing that she really had nothing better to do today, she followed Stanley into the comic book shop.

As expected, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the entire establishment, all of them packed completely with brightly colored, flimsy comic books. Cheerilee rolled her eyes at the sight of Stanley giggling and rushing around to each of the shelves, the one wing not holding the comic book to his side flapping about.

“Wait until you see everything! You’re gonna love this stuff! I’ve spent years collecting all of it.” Stanley flew over to a shelf of silvery comics protected in plastic sleeves. He grabbed one and flew back over to her. “Look! It’s the limited edition X-Mares One comic where the character of Professor Z is introduced!”

Cheerilee blinked once, but didn’t manage to say anything before Stanley flew back to the shelf and exchanged the comic with a plastic toy.

“And this one! A limited edition Batmare action figure, and it’s still in the original packaging!”

“Uh...” Cheerilee began to feel that familiar sinking feeling, and took a small step back. “That’s really... nice?”

“Isn’t it?” Stanley cooed, cradling the box as though it was a newborn foal. “It took me two years to track it down, and when I did, it was five hundred bits. I even managed to get the one with the removable cowl! Those are even rarer!” Stanley flipped the box around and showed Cheerilee the back, which bore a picture of the doll without the mask. “See? I think it even looks a little like you!”

Maybe she did have something better to do today. She did have a bottle of wine that she hadn’t opened yet. Yes, that sounded much more pleasant. A bottle of wine and a bubble bath. Cheerilee forced a smile on her face and gently cleared her throat.

“Uh, Stanley? This experience has been… typical, to say the least, but I have to go now.” Cheerilee began slowly backing away towards the entrance. “I just realized that I forgot to, uh, water my peace lily.”

“Your peace daisy can wait, Cheerimee, this is high-quality stuff!” Stanley zipped towards Cheerilee with a surprising quickness, and before Cheerilee knew what was happening, he grabbed her by the hoof and began pulling her towards a back room. “Besides, we haven’t even gotten to the surprise yet!”

“Oh, that’s really o—“

“Nonsense, Cheerimee, you’ll love it!” Stanley giggled again and pulled her into the back room. Inside, a small wooden table was flanked by two worn folding chairs. Above a single bulb flickered weakly. “I haven’t met a mare yet who hasn’t been quite surprised by this! Did you ever read comics?”

“Stanley, for the last time, my name is Cheerilee. And besides that, no.” Cheerilee ran a hoof through her mane. “I believe the expression I heard when I was a filly from my friends was ‘comic books: not even once.’”

“Well you’ll like this one! There’s lots of things about it that are, shall we say, unexpected.”

“Uh…” Cheerilee eyed Stanley and the setup with no shortage of suspicion. “That doesn’t sound… comforting.”

“Oh, but it is!” The duo reached the table, and Stanley pushed Cheerilee down onto one of the chairs. “I told you in the ad that I’m an adventurous sort, didn’t I?”

“Well, your ad also said that you had good hair and were handsome,” Cheerilee deadpanned.

“Think of the adventures that we’re about to have!” Stanley took the comic book out from under his wing and placed it down on the table, opening it up to the back page. “You and I are going to fight crime, solve mysteries, and save the world together!”

Cheerilee sighed and began rubbing one of her temples, making a mental note to never answer from a personal ad ever again. She slowly began inching off of her chair. Surely she could make it to the door faster than he could.

“Okay, Stanley, I think that I really must be going.” Cheerilee’s gaze flickered between her disastrous date and the door, praying to Discord that he would be distracted just long enough. “It’s been, uh, lovely to—”

Before Cheerilee could continue, Stanley drew himself up to his full height, a beaming smile on his face. “You can return to the place you started, when The Orange Imp is defeated. Take a closer look, to join the adventure in this book!”

Cheerilee’s pupils shrank down to pinpricks, and her jaw dropped open as the words registered with her. An enchanted comic. She had once confiscated an entire stack from the Cutie Mark Crusaders. And Diamond Tiara once for some odd reason, but that was unimportant. The flashing light emanating from the comic made for the more pressing issue, and Cheerilee heard Stanley giggle yet again as he was sucked into the comic.

Now was her chance.

Cheerilee shot out of her chair like a bat out of Tartarus, straight for the door and leaving the poor stallion to his fate. Let him figure a way out of the dumb book. It was officially not her problem if he had done it to himself, right?

Cheerilee gasped when she felt something tug on her tail, and she turned her head to see that the bright light had her too. It began reeling her in like a fish. Cheerilee screeched and dug her hooves into the concrete floor, knowing that it was a vain hope that she could escape from the light, but praying that she could break the hold if she just resisted long enough.

With one squeak and tug on her tail, Cheerilee was yanked back and into the unforgiving pages of the wretched comic book. She felt her world spinning for the briefest of moments, then everything went black.

~~~

When she awoke next, it was to the infernal giggling and squealing of Stanley. “Batmare! It’s really you! Ooh, this is another one of the greatest days of my life!”

Cheerilee groggily opened her eyes and raised her head to see Stanley grinning at her, dressed in form-fitting brown tights, a white hood, and a black mask covering the area immediately around his eyes. She groaned and pushed herself up, and felt more restricted in her movements than usual. She frowned and looked down at herself, groaning when she saw her current state of dress.

“Oh for the love of…”

Cheerilee wore what she could only describe as dark gray battle armor with a bright yellow bat insignia emblazoned on the front. Around her waist was a utility belt, and the outfit was complete with a dark gray cape fluttering behind her.

“Like I said,” Cheerilee growled through clenched teeth, “never answering a personal ad again.”

“Now we can fight crime and beat the Orange Imp together, Batmare!” Stanley squeed. “It’s going to be so amazing!”

Cheerilee sighed and felt a slight pressure mounting up behind her eyes. She took a deep breath and put a smile on her face she reserved for those rare moments when a foal was in a heap of trouble, but she didn’t want to upset said foal by blowing her lid.

“Stanley, may I explain something to you?” she asked, her tone honey sweet.

Stanley vigorously nodded and sat down on the ground. “Yes, Batmare! Teach me your crime-fighting ways!”

“Stanley, I’m not Batmare, okay? And while we’re on the subject, my name isn’t Cheerimee either. It’s pronounced Cheerilee.” Cheerilee’s smile flickered ever so slightly. “Do you understand me?” Stanley’s smile faltered, but Cheerilee continued on. “So, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to get me out of here. I don’t care how. But you’re going to get me out of here, or so help me—“

“I can’t.”

Cheerilee’s eye twitched. “Excuse me?”

“I can’t. Only you can.” Stanley pushed himself to his hooves and walked over to the edge of the building that they were on. “We have to defeat the Orange Imp if we’re going to get out of this. Like I said: adventure!” Stanley’s dumb smile returned. “And speak of...”

‘Speaking of’ was exactly what Cheerilee was about to do when an explosion sent shockwaves through the city, and she stumbled for a brief moment before regaining her balance.

“What was that?” she cried.

“I told you: the Orange Imp!” Stanley ran towards Cheerilee and began bouncing around her in a circle. “This is gonna be so amazing! You’re gonna kick her plot so bad! It’ll be the greatest thing that I’ve ever seen!”

“I’m going to?” Cheerilee glowered at Stanley. “And why can’t you, since you’re the one who got us into this mess?”

“Me?” Stanley snorted and waved his hoof. “I can’t do that. I’m your well-intentioned, but ultimately weak sidekick, Steamer Duck! I’m no match for the likes of The Orange Imp!”

“Did somepony say ‘The Orange Imp?’”

Cheerilee turned, sighing when she saw a unicorn mare wearing form-fitting orange spandex and a goblin mask, riding what looked like a magic powered jet glider, on which rested two brown bags with bit signs etched on them. Even through the mask, Cheerilee could gather that the pony had some sort of slasher smile etched across her face.

The Orange Imp giggled and pointed a hoof at Cheerilee. “Ah, Batmare! How kind of you to join me! You even brought your precious little sidekick, Steamer Duck!” The Orange Imp slammed her hoof on her glider and ignited her horn. “Prepare to face me for the last time, Batmare, for this time you shall meet your doom!”

“Uh…” Cheerilee paused for the briefest of moments, looking between the beaming Stanley and the Orange Imp before sighing. “No.”

“Uh...” The Orang Imp tilted her head. “No?”

“Yes: no.” Cheerilee turned her head and glared at Stanley before tearing her mask off of her head and throwing it on the ground. “Stanley, explain something to me. Exactly when did you decide that forcing an unwilling stranger into a comic book to fight crime for you was the perfect setting for lighting that romantic spark?”

Beside her, Cheerilee heard The Orange Imp gasp. “Billionaire playmare Bright Way! I should have known it was you!”

“What makes you think that you can just… just… well, foalnap me and force me to be in this silly little game of yours?” Cheerilee snarled, ignoring The Orange Imp. “Didn’t you think it would be better to ask if I wanted to do this?”

“So the Steamer Duck was behind this all along? Batmare was just his pawn?” The Orange Imp gasped again. “What a startling revelation!”

Stanley wilted under Cheerilee’s furious glare, and he tried to stutter out a few placating words, but Cheerilee wasn’t done. “Do you really think that I would like this? That at the end of everything I would want to go out on a second date with you?” Cheerilee stomped her hoof on the ground so hard it left cracks in the concrete. “Do you really think that’s the best way to court a mare; that we like this sort of thing?”

“The Batmare and Steamer Duck are courting?” The Orange Imp wolf whistled. “Wait until I tell the others about this!”

Cheerilee gritted her teeth, but ignored The Orange Imp. Stanley was more deserving of her wrath. “Now you listen to me, buster! If you do not get us back this instant, I will make sure that you can’t even so much as look at a comic book again!”

“Ooh, are The Steamer Duck and The Batmare about to throw down?” The Orange Imp giggled. “I should have brought my video camera.”

“You...” Cheerilee growled, but she forced herself to remember that The Orange Imp was, in fact, fictional, and had no bearing on this conversation. She took a deep breath and remained focused on Stanley. “You know, you could really hurt some mare, do you know that? This doesn’t just hurt us; it could really get you into a lot of trouble someday. This. Needs. To. Stop!”

“Uh…” The Orange Imp gently cleared her throat. “Am I intruding on a moment? I can come back so we can fight later, if you want.”

The anger that had been simmering inside Cheerilee reached its boiling point, and she whirled around, turning her glare on The Orange Imp. “Shut up!”

Behind her, Cheerilee heard Stanley snort. “Geez, Cheerilee, your personal ad said you were a teacher. I thought you’d be smarter. You’re not doing this right at all. You’re supposed to fight—”

That did it.

Before anypony could do anything, Cheerilee let out a great cry of pure fury and lifted Stanley over her head. Ignoring his protests, she threw him as hard as she could directly at the Orange Imp. Before The Orange Imp could so much as squeak, Stanley collided with her, knocking her off of her glider and sending them both falling like stones to the street below.

Cheerilee ground her teeth together, staring at the nearby glider and daring it to somehow come alive and make the already horrific day worse. Before she could yell something at it to that effect, a portal opened up in the sky, and she felt herself being sucked towards it. She looked down at the street below and groaned when she saw a giddy Stanley flying up with her. She closed her eyes and facehooved as she went back to reality.

~~~

She never thought that the sight of the back room of a comic book shop would be so welcome to her. For the first time since she had seen her date, Cheerilee managed a small smile.

Oh right. Her date. Cheerilee realized that he was babbling about something.

“… And then you picked me up and were all, like, ‘not today, Orange Imp!’ and you threw me at her, which I guess kinda breaks Batmare’s rule about never brandishing a deadly weapon, but not really, I guess, because Steamer Duck is kinda useless, and then we were falling, and I was bravely shouting in fear, and so was Orange Imp, and…”

Cheerilee gritted her teeth and walked through the door, leaving him to rant about their “adventure.” Before she walked out of the comic book shop completely, she turned around and poked her head back into the room.

“You can return to the place you started, when The Orange Imp is defeated. Take a closer look, to join the adventure in this book!”

“… And then we came back out of the book and… uh… hey, what’s going on? Uh… wait! No! Hang on a second!”

Cheerilee slammed the door and ran as fast as she could.

Date Thirty-Six - Come With Me If You Want To Love

Cheerilee smiled at Caramel over the top of her martini glass. Somehow, the swelling near his jaw wasn’t off-putting. It made him look rugged. “Oh, stop it,” Cheerilee said as he covered the lump with his hoof. “I told you it’s not so bad.”

Caramel dropped his hoof. “I know. It’s just a reflex. You didn’t see it when it at its worst. I looked a chipmunk. The guards kept saying I was ‘nuts.’”

Cheerilee snorted, feeling slightly out of control after her third cocktail. She knew she shouldn’t laugh at the sensitive stallion, but the image of Caramel with a dozen walnuts in each cheek was too much to take. Biting the inside of her cheek, she forced herself to quit laughing.

Until she looked back up just as he was blowing out a large mouthful of air.

With his cheeks puffed up again, he looked even more like a chipmunk. The giggles took over again, and Cheerilee had to hastily set down her glass before she spilled her drink.

Caramel rested his good cheek in his hoof and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “I’m glad my time in the slammer is so funny to one of us, at least.”

Cheerilee pushed two empty martini glasses out of the way and reached across the table. Giving him a sunny smile, she grabbed Caramel’s free hoof in her own. “I thought you were very brave to charge those policeponies that night.”

Caramel tried to frown, but a smile twitched its way across his face instead. “Yeah, that’s what Applejack said to when she came to bail me out, but then she followed it up by telling me it was the dumbest thing I’d ever done.”

Cheerilee waved a hoof dismissively. “Well, she wasn’t there. Knowing Applejack, she’d be the first in line to kick Turnkey in the head if it’d been her instead of us.”

Caramel nodded. “Well, I’m just glad—”

The Trough’s heavy wooden door flew open, slamming against the opposite was with enough force to dislodge a nearby picture. It fell to the ground, the glass shattering. Framed in the doorjamb was the largest pony many of the patrons had ever seen. The bar fell silent as the huge, ice-blue pony squirmed through the door. Swiveling his massive head, he locked eyes with Cheerilee.

“What are your relevant interests, Cheerilee?” he said, trotting towards where she sat. A waitress skipped out of the away, sputtering indignantly as the stallion nearly bowled her over. A nearby couple dove away when he walked straight over their table, splintering it in the process. “Isn’t this nice weather that we’re having?”

Caramel lifted an eyebrow, his expression carefully guarded. “Who’s your friend?”

Cheerilee pushed away from table. “No idea, but I think maybe we should get out of here.”

Caramel nodded. “Yeah, that might be—oof!”

The hulking stallion dropped into Caramel’s chair and folded his hooves neatly on the table. His face was stoic. Unreadable. “So how was your childhood? Where did you grow up?"

Cheerilee shot to her hooves. “What do you think you’re doing?! Get off of him immediately!” She couldn’t see Caramel anymore, but he sounded like he was putting up quite a fight. Despite the furious pounding behind him, the stallion’s expression remain fixedly neutral. If Caramel was having any effect, she certainly couldn’t tell.

“So you’re Ponyville’s teacher? That must be very exciting. I’d love to hear more about the various techniques you’ve acquired to educate foals.”

“Would somepony do something?” Cheerilee said, scanning the bar. Everypony had suddenly found something very interesting in their drinks or was slowly edging for the door. Scowling, she turned back to the stallion. “Get off of him or I’m calling the cops!”

The stallion followed with his eyes, but remained perfectly still otherwise. Behind him, Caramel’s mane whipped back and forth while he struggled for some sort of leverage. “So what kind of music do you like?” the stallion said, his voice oddly flat. “I’m curious as to your preferences and I’m open to new musical experiences.”

Cheerilee stared back at the stallion, her eyes bulging. “Are you insane? What is wrong with...” Her voice fell away as an idea hit her. She flashed her most flirtatious smile at the massive stallion. “I’d rather show you than tell you. Wanna dance?”

The stallion stared back, unblinking. “Yes, I’d love to dance.”

Cheerilee took a few steps toward the jukebox. “Well, come on, then!”

The stallion rose slowly. “I have an intimate knowledge of several hundred—”

Cheerilee leapt forward, snatching Caramel’s hoof and yanking him out of the chair. “Run!” Together, they galloped out the Trough’s front door.

Beside her, Caramel coughed and wheezed, still trying to catch his breath. “What was—?”

“I don’t know!” Cheerilee replied, shaking her head. “But this—”

Both ponies stumbled, their hooves sparking against the cobblestones when they heard the splintering crash. Turning, their mouths sagged open.

The ice-blue stallion had run through the bar’s wall. Shaking out bits of plaster and wood, he scanned the street momentarily before locking eyes with Cheerilee again. “Do you have a hobby? What is your favorite play?”

Caramel shoved her. “Go! I’ll—” Caramel swallowed hard. “I-I’ll take care of this guy!”

“No you will not!” Cheerilee replied, twining her hoof into Caramel’s mane. Growling, she pulled until Caramel started moving again. “I want you to be brave, not suicidal!”

“Ow! Okay, okay! I’m coming!”

Behind them, they could hear the stallion’s pounding hooves as he gave chase. “If you could be any wildflower, which kind would you be?” he called after them in his oddly toneless voice.

“Why does he sound like that?” Caramel said, still slightly out of breath.

Cheerilee just shook her head, too intent on running to try and answer.

“Did you play any sports in school? What college did you go to? I’m interested in your childhood pets.”

Caramel yanked Cheerilee into a narrow alley. “Quick, this way! He’s going to have a hard time squeezing through here.” Dodging trashcans, the pair ducked into an open doorway. Leaning against the way, they gasped for air.

“Hey, whaddaya think you’re doing?!” Deep Dish said, dusting flour from his hooves. “You can’t just barge into my kitchen like—”

Cheerilee screamed as a pale blue hoof smashed through the wall beside her, wrapping around her before she could react. “What is your favorite restaurant?” a muffled voice asked as the hoof pulled. “Could I interest you in a refreshing alcoholic beverage?”

Deep Dish’s eyes bulged. “Hey! That’s my—”

Snaking cracks criss-crossed the wall before it suddenly gave way. With a shrill cry, Cheerilee disappeared through the gaping hole.

“I’m coming!” Caramel cried, leaping after her.

Cheerilee kicked her hooves as the stallion held her several inches off the ground. “Let me go, you maniac! What’s the matter with you?”

Caramel cocked his hoof back and let it fly at the stallion’s jaw. “I don’t know and I don’t care! This guy is way out of—aargh!" Falling to the floor, Caramel cradled his hoof. “Celestia, I think it’s broken!”

Without taking his eyes from Cheerilee, the stallion kicked Caramel through the wall. On the other side, Deep Dish wrung his hooves and stared at the damage.

Flailing, Cheerilee managed to wrap her hoof around a broken two by four. With a snarl, she yanked it from the hole. “Let. Me. Go!” she said, swinging with all of her might.

Cheerilee gasped as her hooves went numb. She felt as though she’d slammed them into solid concrete, and it took a few moments for her to realize that she was on the floor again. Scrambling backward, she stared up at the hulking stallion. Her eyes widened.

Half of his face was hanging off in tatters. Beneath it, a metal skull leered at her, it’s glowing red eye unwavering in its intensity. “Shall we go get dessert?” the thing asked her.

“No!” she said, half running, half falling through the hole back into the pizzeria. “Nonono!”

“I am D-8-R, and I was made for you, Cheerilee,” the thing droned. Reaching for her, it coiled its legs and leapt.

“Duck!” Caramel shouted, yanking open the door to the large oven behind her.

Cheerilee hit the floor, throwing her legs over her head as the robot sailed over her and headfirst into the oven. Rolling to the side, she barely avoided the thing’s flailing hooves as they smashed repeatedly into the tiled floor.

Snatching a large peel from the wall with his good hoof, Caramel rammed it into the robot’s back. “You just gonna stand there?” he growled at the gaping cook.

Shaking himself, Deep Dish wrapped his hooves around the peel’s shaft and leaned on it. Metal squealed against metal as the robot was forced deeper into the oven. For several long moments, the construct kicked futilely, but it lacked the leverage to apply its unnatural strength. Finally, it lay still. Caramel dropped the peel and sank to the floor, panting.

Cheerilee crawled over. “You were—”

“When can I meet your parents?”

Cheerilee’s head snapped around. The robot was wiggling its way out of the oven. Its features were a twisted, melted mess, but the red eyes continued to stare at her with its unwavering intensity. Its movements were labored how. The joints no longer moved smoothly. It jerked and spasmed as it reached for her.

The growl started from deep down within the teacher, birthed far below her diaphragm. A fire burned in her guts and the rage spread through her in inexorable waves. Before she knew it, she’d yanked a rolling pin from the wall. “I’M SO TIRED OF THIS!”

Crouching under the robot’s clumsy, grasping hooves, she side-stepped, then leapt high into the air. With a cry, she brought the rolling pin down on the thing’s head, leaving a large dent.

“A-arre w-xe excl-cl-clusive?” the thing asked, sparks shooting from its mouth.

Cheerilee swung again, twisting at the waist as she threw her back and legs into the blow. With a resounding clang, the robot’s head snapped to the side and slammed into its shoulder. Its eyes flickered briefly, then began to glow again.

“C-n I hve a kxss?” it said weakly.

With a scream, Cheerilee whipped the pin back, smashing it into the other side of the robot’s face. Again and again, she pummelled the robot, refusing to give it any time to recover. Screaming obscenities, she slammed the pin down, and when it broke, she used her hooves. Her eyes were blurred with furious tears when a hoof gently encircled her waist and pulled her away.

“Shh. Shh. It’s over, Cheerilee,” Caramel said softly into her ear. “No. Calm down. Shh. It’s over. You did it.”

Cheerilee threw her hooves around Caramel, shaking. Slowing, she looked over her shoulder. The robot was there, laying on the ground. Its head was a barely recognizable mass of misshapen metal and protruding wires. The thing’s one remaining eye was dark.

“What is this thing?” Deep Dish said softly, kneeling down to take a closer look.

Cheerilee sighed. “It's romance,” she said, scowling. “Couldn't you tell?”

Date Thirty-Seven - Savings and Groan

Cheerilee’s jaw sagged open when she stepped out of the cab. The residence beyond the wrought-iron gate could only be described as opulent. Expertly cropped topiary dotted the acreage, framing a massive marble fountain. Beyond it was an estate that made Filthy Rich’s look like a summer bungalow. No wonder he asked for formal attire.

Curling her hoof around an iron chain, Cheerilee pulled. For a moment, nothing happened, and then her ears perked up. From somewhere deep within the estate, a muted tone rolled out across the grounds. The three-note sequence seemed to come from everywhere at once.

“I suppose you have an appointment, miss?”

Cheerilee jumped back, her heart hammering wildly. The tuxedo-clad pony had appeared so suddenly that he may as well have materialized out of thin air. She took a few deep breaths and leaned against the gate. “I, um… hi.” she said.

The butler arched an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Cheerilee swallowed hard. “Uh, yes. I’m expected. You see—”

“Spats, quit being such a fuddy-duddy and open the gate for our guest!” a handsomely jacketed unicorn called as he rounded the fountain. He smiled at Cheerilee as he trotted over.

The butler’s eyes travelled the length of teacher’s dress and his lip curled in the smallest of sneers. “I’m sorry, sir. I thought she must be collecting for something. I know how you—”

“Thank you, Spats,” the stallion said, his voice taking a slight edge. “That will be all.”

The butler turned and bowed. “Very good, sir." After pulling his tuxedo jacket back into perfect alignment, Spats trotted back to the mansion.

“I’m sorry about that,” the stallion said, a wry grin sliding up the right side of his copper muzzle. “Spats is terrific at his job, but he’s got these old-fashioned views of wealth and what it means.”

“Oh, that’s all right, Penny," Cheerilee waved her hoof at the estate. “But when you told me that you were financially secure, I wasn’t… I didn’t..." She twirled her hoof while searching for the right words. Everything was so amazing that she hardly knew what to ask about first.

Penny Pincher laughed. Reaching up, he slid back a massive bolt and opened the gate. “Trust me, when you’re in my tax bracket, the last thing you want to do is get into a conversation about bits. It stirs up all kinds of trouble." Stepping outside, he closed the gate behind him.

Cheerilee smirked and rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m not in any danger of that. I love teaching, but nopony ever got rich off of what I make.”

“Nonsense!" Penny Pincher smiled, but his eyes hardened. “It’s not about how much you make, it’s how much you save! I used to repair tractors, and now...” He swept a hoof before them, highlighting his vast acreage. “But enough talk about such sordid things. We’ve got a celebration to attend! Do you know Cracked Wheat?”

Cheerilee frowned and put a hoof to her chin. “That name sounds familiar.”

“Do you spend much time in Buckland?”

Cheerilee’s ears perked up. “Oh, he’s their baker, right?”

Penny nodded. “Yeah, and he’s throwing a party today for his uncle. I thought we’d drop in.”

“Well, that sounds lovely. When do we leave?”

“Well, now, I suppose,” Penny said, taking a few steps. “No time like the present.”

Cheerilee took a few hesitant steps after the unicorn. “Is it a garden party? It’s awfully early, don’t you think?”

“Oh, it doesn’t start until later today,” Penny said, shrugging, “but it’s a long walk.”

Cheerilee rocked back on her hooves. “Walk? It’s fifteen miles to Buckland! Shouldn’t we send for a cab or something? If I’d known, I would have held mine.”

Penny Pincher snorted, shaking his head. “Why spend the money?” He gave the mare a sunny smile. “Besides, exercise is healthy, don’t you think?”

Glancing down at the satin-lined hem of her dress, Cheerilee frowned. It was covered in road dust and they’d barely begun the journey. “Are you pulling my leg?”

“I make it a point to never lie,” Penny said, suddenly becoming serious. “Especially when pretty mares are involved.” Rearing, he took off like a shot. “Come on! I’ll race you!”

“Wait! Come back!” Cheerilee charged after him, wincing as her hoof came down on the bottom of her dress.

~~~

Cheerilee shook the torn hem of her gown under Penny’s nose. “What were you thinking?” she said, pointing to the stained fabric. Completely covered in mud, it was ruined.

“Calm down, calm down,” Penny said, holding his hooves up placatingly. “I’ve got it all worked out.” The air around the two of them hummed with power as the unicorn’s horn glowed. Cheerilee watched as the grime was magically scoured from her dress and the hem’s trailing threads re-knit themselves. “I taught myself how to maintain clothes years ago. It saves on expenses.”

“Well, I…” Cheerilee eyes traveled a circuit between her repaired dress, Penny’s smile, and her own hooves. “It’s, um, well… You could have warned me!”

Penny dropped his gaze, nodding. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I, uh…” He licked his lips nervously. “I didn’t think.” He tilted his head, looking up at her. “Will you forgive me?”

Cheerilee let out an exasperated sigh. It was so hard to tell if Penny was being sincere or playing with her. “Okay, okay,” she said. “Just… no more surprises like that.”

Penny bowed his head slightly. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He offered the mare his leg. “Shall we?”

Cheerilee hesitated a moment before hooking his leg with her own. She was still a little miffed, not to mention out of breath, from all the running. Cheerilee inhaled deeply and forced herself to relax as he gave her that crooked smile again. It was so… so roguish for such practical pony. Like the dashing ne-er-do-wells from the covers of Rarity’s romance novels.

The mare was pulled out of her daydream when Penny Pincher pulled up short.

“What?” she said, after a moment.

Penny’s eyes travelled slowly back and forth as he frowned. “You… didn’t happen to bring anything with you, did you?”

Cheerilee’s brow furrowed. “Bring something? Like what?”

Penny scratched his mane. “Well, you know, like flowers or a small gift. Something like that.”

Cheerilee frowned. Her temples were beginning to lightly pound, and that only happened when things were unraveling. “Why would I do that?” she asked, keeping her voice carefully neutral. “I don’t even know these ponies.”

“Oh, no reason you should have. I was just wondering,” Penny said. “Don’t worry, I think I have it covered, anyway.”

The pounding ratched up a notch. “Penny, what exactly—”

“Pardon us!”

Cheerilee and Penny jumped out of the way as a carriage rumbled by and disappeared around a bend.

“Ah, good!” Penny said, smiling. “We must be almost there. Come on!” He took off again, only to backpedal. Looking over his shoulder, his eyes twinkled. “Don’t worry, I’ll fix your dress right up if it gets dirty again.”

~~~

Rounding the bend, they arrived at a massive stone church surrounded by a sprawling cemetery. Dozens of ponies milled around the entrance, clustered in solemn groups. Cheerilee shot the stallion a confused glance. “His party’s in a church?”

“Yeah, I don’t get it, either,” Penny said, shrugging. “I’d just have it at home, but ponies have weird taste, sometimes. Look, you go on inside, and I’ll meet you in a few minutes. I’ve got to take care of the gift.”

“What? I don’t know anypony!”

Penny patted her on the back. “Cheerilee, you don’t give yourself enough credit. You just don’t know how charming you are. They’ll be eating out of the sole of your hoof in no time!” He nodded to a well-dressed pony as she opened the church’s large oaken door. “Just be yourself, and I’ll be there before you know it.”

Cheerilee’s hooves skittered across the polished stone floor, she was swept inside by a tide of grim-faced ponies. Her head was really beginning to hurt at this point. Okay, that stallion is going to be answering some serious questions when he gets back, she thought. Trotting off to a sparsely populated corner of the church’s narthex, she tried to avoid making eye contact.

“It’s so nice of you to come!”

Cheerilee slowly turned her head. A mare in a black veil was making her way over, dabbing at her eye with a handkerchief. “Err…”

“This turn out…” The mare stopped, her voice catching. “It’s overwhelming.”

Cheerilee’s eyes travelled slowly around the room, and her heart sank. Black, black and more black, she thought. She looked down at her own dress. Black, but just by chance. She still hadn’t returned it to her sister after the disastrous date at the symphony. She looked up to find the mare staring at her, tears swimming in her eyes. “I, uh…”

“There you are, Cheerilee!” Penny made his way over, carrying two large bouquets.

The mare wiped a tear as it fell. “Oh, everypony’s so thoughtful! Bunt would have been so happy to see this!”

“There, there,” Penny said, gently placing the flowers into the mare’s hooves. “He was greatly respected.” Penny rubbed the mare’s back as she sobbed against him. Catching Cheerilee’s eye, he shrugged and gave her his crooked smile again. “Ma’am, we’re going to go sign the book.”

The mare tried to reply, but ended up just nodding as her voice failed her again. She carried the massive bouquets through a set of double doors, disappearing into the nave.

“Close one,” Penny said, hooking Cheerilee’s leg again. “Come on, let’s—huh?”

Cheerilee gave the stallion her frostiest stare. “You’ve got about ten seconds to explain why you’ve brought me to a funeral, buster.”

Penny’s face wrinkled in confusion, then cleared. “Funeral? No. Look, you don’t understand. Let me show you something.”

This had better be amazing, Cheerilee thought as she reluctantly allowed herself to be pulled further into the church.

Penny pointed down the wide center aisle, hopping from hoof to hoof. “Look. Look!” he whispered to her. “They’ve got all the food and punch you could want!”

Cheerilee’s mouth dropped open. Clustered around an open casket was a three-tiered assortment of various grains and vegetables with an assortment of spreadable cheeses. Off to one side was an enormous crystal bowl with a ladle.

Cheerilee whirled, advancing on Penny Pincher. “Have. You. Completely. Lost. Your. Mind?!” she hissed. “You said this wasn’t a funeral!”

Penny threw a hoof out beside him. “It’s not a funeral! It’s a wake!”

Cheerilee bared her teeth. “You said we were going to a party!”

“A wake is a party!” he said, backing up. “Come on, Cheerilee! It’s got everything you could want! All mares like a good dinner and some quality conversation.”

“The conversation doesn’t usually include sobbing and dinner isn’t usually served over a corpse!”

Penny winced as his rump hit the wall. “Well, sometimes you just have to get creative to show a mare a good time at a good price! A bit saved is a bit earned after all. This is a real value, dinner and entertainment for the price of a few flowers? That’s a bargain!”

Cheerilee poked her hoof into the unicorn’s chest. “And just where did get—” Her eyes flicked to the window, and the graveyard beyond it. “Oh, no. You didn’t...”

Penny scowled at the cemetary. “Well, they weren’t using them anymore. It seems like such an awful waste.”

Several startled clusters of ponies jumped out of Cheerilee’s path as she marched for the door. “Good-bye, Penny,” Cheerilee spat, fuming. “Don’t bother trying to get ahold of me in the future.”

Penny grabbed her leg. “Wait, you can’t just leave! We just got here!”

Cheerilee shook his hoof off, then pointed to the casket. “You want some pony who won’t walk out on you? Try that guy.”

Author's Note

A big thank you to Seether00, who gave me the idea for this chapter.

Date Thirty-Eight - Disenchanted

Cheerilee yanked the highball glass away just before the blue hoof came down. Sliding the glass down the bar, she glared up at the unicorn. “Would you please get down! You’re making a spectacle of yourself!”

Trixie threw her head back and laughed. Or, she tried to. Halfway through it, she hiccupped and stumbled, lurching to the side. Pinwheeling, Trixie searched for something to grab a hold of.

Top Shelf rushed to keep her from falling. “Ladies, please! If you can’t control yourselves, you’re going to have to leave!”

“Why would The Great and Powerful Trixie leave the stage?” Overcorrecting, Trixie slipped on a cherry and sat down hard. Nearby, a blank-faced stallion applauded slowly. “Of course Trixie is making a spectacle of herself. She is a spectacle! The spectacle!” Raising her heavily-slurred voice, she twisted in a half circle and threw her hooves over her head. “Remember this night, for you will be telling your foals about it. ‘I saw The Great and Powerful Trixie perform feats of such wonder—’”

A passing bar back slammed down several empty mugs on to the bar beside the unicorn. “It’d be a wonder if you’d perform the amazing feat of buttoning your lip for a while.”

Top Shelf glared at him. Pursing his lips, he set the mugs onto a battered cart. “Would you be careful with this stuff? It’s glass, and I’m not made of bits.”

The bar back chewed his lip for a moment and then nodded. “Sorry, boss. It’s just—”

“Oh, I know,” Top Shelf turned to give Cheerilee a meaningful glance. “Some ponies...”

Cheerilee could feel her neck flush as she looked back and forth between the two angry stallions. “What? You think I had something to do with this?”

“Everypony, watch—oof.” Trixie tried to jump to her hooves, but missed the bar with two of her legs. Sprawling, she sent a bowl of pretzels flying. Giggling, she readjusted and slowly rose. Nearby ponies pulled their drinks protectively toward themselves as she wavered uncertainly. “Watch as The Great and Powerful Trixie astounds with her unparalleled magical skill!” Her unfocused eyes swam as she squinted at a bowl of lemon wedges. Taking a deep breath, the unicorn aimed and fired a glowing beam at the bowl.

“Whoa!” A rosy-cheeked mare skipped away from the bar as the beam slammed into the bar, leaving a small scorch mark. “Watch it!”

Screwing her face up, Trixie fired again. The bowl exploded.

Trixie bowed, smiling. “You see? Nopony can compare with The Great and Powerful Trixie, Equestia’s premiere unicorn.”

Beside the sound of several lemon wedges slowly peeling away from the ceiling and plopping to the floor, the bar was silent. Finally, the blank-faced stallion began his sarcastic clap again. “Wow. Amazing.”

Sighing, Top Shelf picked up one of the pint glasses and wiped it off with a rag. “Look, Cheerilee, I’m sorry. I tried. After your buddy ran through the wall—”

Cheerilee clenched her jaw. “I already told you that it was some kind of attack robot!”

The stallion rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. It still cost me five hundred bits to fix that hole, and now you’re here with your new sweetheart causing trouble again. I like you, Cheerilee, but you’re going to have to go.” Top Shelf bit his lip and looked away. “Sorry, that’s how it is.”

Cheerilee stared into her glass and wondered again why she’d agreed to this in the first place. Sure, the mare was attractive, but when she’d declared that she would be honoring Cheerilee with a life-altering date with Equestria’s most talented magician, Cheerilee had convinced herself that it was some sort of cute act the mare had been putting on. It hadn’t been. A single drink had transformed her from a slightly eccentric and somewhat conceited pony into a raving lunatic.

Snatching a pint glass from a sputtering stallion, Trixie’s magic held it slightly over her head. The bar watched with vague interest while it dipped and wavered, seemingly on the edge of dropping to the floor. “Steel yourselves, ponies, as Trixie makes the contents of this glass… disappear!” Opening her mouth wide, she tossed the glass back.

The room groaned as cider shot past her head and onto the rows of distilled alcohol behind her. Smacking her lips, Trixie slammed the glass back into the stallion’s hooves and took a bow.

The bar back stopped to stare at Cheerilee for a moment before shaking his head and collecting a few more empty glasses from the nearby tables.

Dropping to her stomach, Trixie sent out a questing hoof out to search for the floor. Three or four exploratory pokes later, she finally found it. With a grin, she slid off the bar and staggered back to where Cheerilee was gathering her things. “Trixie has astounded you. She can read an audience like the back of her hoof.”

Cheerilee tightened the cinch on her saddleback with far more force than it require. “Oh, I’m astounded all right. You’ve—”

“You see?” Trixie threw her hoof around Cheerilee’s shoulder and twisted, turning them both toward the rest of the bar’s patrons. “She admits it, and soon all of Ponyburg—”

“Ponyville,” Cheerilee growled.

Trixie shrugged. “Whatever. Very soon, all of you will have the opportunity to witness the peerless prowess of The Great and Powerful Trixie! For tonight, in your small-ish town square, Trixie will captivate and befuddle! There, with her barely adequate assistant, she will—”

Cheerilee batted the hoof from her shoulder. “I’m not your assistant, in fact—”

Trixie grinned, stepping in close. “Trixie sees. You're upset because The Great and Powerful Trixie hasn’t given you a kiss yet, aren’t you? Understandable that you would be burning for a taste, for not only is Trixie the most magical of unicorns, but she’s also the most romantic!”

Cheerilee thrust a hoof against the advancing unicorn’s forehead while several ponies began to whistle and catcall. “What is wrong with you? Would you back off?”

Trixie leaned against the hoof, her puckered lips leading the way.

The bar back walked by and sniggered. “Now this is a performance I can get behind! Top, we should get this kind of—ughf!”

Cheerilee’s other hoof pistoned out and she snatched the bar back’s mane. Growling, she pressed their faces together. “You want a show? There you go. She’s all yours.”

The bar back’s eyes widened as Trixie threw her hooves around his neck, tightening the embrace. Cheerilee winced as several vertebrae in his back popped. The bar back’s hooves scrambled across the wooden floor as he fought to regain his equilibrium.

Trixie opened her eyes, and gasped. Pulling away, she looked from the bar back to Cheerilee and back again, before shrugging. The bar back managed a single strangled syllable before the unicorn was on him again.

Hooking her saddlebags with a hoof, Cheerilee swung them onto her back. Pushing open the door, she glanced at Top Shelf over her shoulder. “Tell her that it’s her job to make the tab disappear.”

Date Thirty-Nine - Terms of Ensnarement

Applejack glowered at the three fillies. “Now, what in tarnation made y’all think this was a good idea?”

“Uh…” said Apple Bloom.

Scootaloo poked at the dirt with her hoof. “Well…”

Sweetie Belle just swallowed loudly.

Without taking her eyes from the fillies, Applejack waved her hoof in the vague direction of two ponies swinging ten feet in the air. “Somepony could have gotten hurt!” She frowned deeply at her sister. “I thought we taught you better than this, Apple Bloom.”

Overhead, Cheerilee made several labored grabs for the rope, finally catching hold of it on the third attempt. Sweat beaded on her brow as she tried to undo the snare holding her ankle. She’d long ago lost the feeling in that hoof, and her own body weight was working against her. The more she struggled, the tighter the knot became. Cursing under her breath, she finally relaxed her burning stomach muscles and simply dangled from the tree.

Beside her, Trailblazer swung slightly in the breeze. “Well, you said you’d like to hang out more,” he said with a shrug. “I told you that a hike would help you see the forest in a whole new way.”

Cheerilee tried to scowl, but snorted instead. “You’re not helping.”

Applejack pulled herself up to her full height, towering over the cringing fillies. “Now, explain yourselves! If this isn’t the most hare-brained, cockamamie—”

“Could you just cut us down?” Cheerilee said, rubbing her temples.

Applejack held her hoof up. “In a minute. First, we gotta make sure these fillies understand what they did was wrong.” Her brow furrowed. “Of all the ponies I know, I woulda thought you’d get how important it is for young’ums to learn a lesson. You bein’ a teacher and all.”

“They can learn when the blood isn’t pooling in our heads and my ankle isn’t falling into a coma!” Cheerilee said, pointing to the rope snare that was cutting off her circulation. “Just get us down!”

Applejack snapped her head back to the fillies. “You heard her! Y’all better start explainin’ things so we can get them down!”

Cheerilee waved her hooves under her head. “That’s not what I—”

Applejack stomped a hoof. “So you three grab a patch of grass and start talkin’!”

They sat.

They talked.

~~~

Apple Bloom scratched behind her ear. “You don’t remember where they are?”

“Nope,” Scootaloo replied, smiling broadly. “That’s the good part! I figure that if we don’t know where they are, we’ll probably stumble into them when we’re looking!”

Sweetie Belle sat quietly for a moment, and then arched her eyebrow at Scootaloo. “Uh, how is that good, exactly?”

“Well, we’ll either get cutie marks for trapping or for getting caught in traps!”

Apple Bloom’s ears perked up. “Hey, yeah!”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sweetiee Belle said, holding her hooves up. “Why would we even want ‘getting caught in traps’ cutie marks?”

Scootaloo shrugged. “I don’t know, but we may as well give it a shot.”

“Yeah!” Apple Bloom said, jumping to her hooves. “They’re all set up anyway. We may as well go lookin’ for ’em.”

Scootaloo threw out a restraining hoof. “No, not like that! We’ve got to not look for them.”

Sweetie Belle’s face crinkled. “Um… I don’t get it.”

“It’s simple, you guys!” Scootaloo hopped up, her wings flapping. “If we want to get caught, we can’t look.”

Apple Bloom grinned. “Oh, I get it! We gotta just run around all over the place without lookin’ where we’re goin’!”

“Exactly!” Scootaloo put her hoof out. “We’re sure to get caught! Cutie Mark Crusaders Trap Specialists...”

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle added their hooves. All three took a deep breath.

“...Go!”

~~~

Sweetie Belle stumbled, plowing into Apple Bloom’s side.

“Hey, watch out!”

“Sorry,” Sweetie Belle said, massaging her hoof. “It’s just that we’ve been walking around this forest forever. I’m tired.”

Apple Bloom nodded and plopped down next to the unicorn. “Yeah, me, too. Scootaloo, we gotta sit down.”

“Another rest?” Scootaloo stared at them over her shoulder. “We’ll never find them if we keep stopping all the time!”

“Well, you were the one who wanted to take the last break!” Sweetie Belle said, frowning. “I wasn’t tired then.”

Apple Bloom held her hooves about between them. “We ain’t got time for arguin’. We’ll just sit here for a minute and then start lookin’ again.”

“But what if somepony runs into the snares first?” Scootaloo said, glancing around nervously.

Sweetie Belle switched hooves and put her shoulders into kneading it. “Oh, nopony comes out here besides us, anyway. Think about it. We’ve never seen—”

TWANG!

The three fillies sat straight, their ears swiveling toward the sound of stretched rope.

TWANG!

“The snares!” they cried in unison. Leaping up, they ran toward the commotion.

~~~

“Apple Bloom, I guess I got to keep a closer eye on you from now on,” Applejack said, her scowl deepening. “I mean, y’all did the right thing by runnin’ right back to the farmhouse and comin’ clean, but—”

Apple Bloom held her hoof up tentatively. “But we didn’t come to the farmhouse to—”

Applejack swatted her sister’s flank with her tail. “Shush. You know better than to interrupt your elders. Why, when Granny Smith hears—”

“Applejack, could you please continue this later?” Each word felt like a hammer to Cheerilee’s tender skull.

“I’m sorry, Cheerilee.” Applejack paced, alternating between staring up at the two dangling ponies and the three shamefaced fillies before her. “These three will be gettin’ on that right now while—”

Sweetie Belle stepped forward. “Applejack—”

“Not a word.” Applejack tipped her hat back to give the fillies the full strength of her disapproval. “Once Rarity hears of this—”

Scootaloo bit her lip, then jumped up to joined Sweetie Belle. “No, you don’t understand! There’s—”

“Oh, I understand plenty! I understand that certain fillies are—”

TWANG!

The three fillies gulped as Applejack flew into the air, her hoof tightly snared. They took a step back as her battered hat floated down and landed at their hooves.

Trailblazer offered Applejack a wry grin. “Welcome to the party!”

“Of all the—confound it, you three!”

Sharing a brief glance, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle pushed Apple Bloom forward.

“You talk to her,” Scootaloo whispered.

Sweetie Belle nodded. “Yeah, she’s your sister.”

Apple Bloom glared at her friends. “Thanks a lot.” Clearing her throat she stepped around the hat and looked up at the three snared ponies. “That's what we were trying to tell you. There was still another snare.”

Applejack crossed her legs tightly across her chest. “I can see that.”

Cheerilee clasped her hooves together in front of her chest. “Please, girls, I’m begging you. This all seems like an accident, so I’m not really all that mad, but please, in the name of Celestia, get us down!”

Scootaloo bit her lip. “Well, that’s kind of the thing. We... can’t.”

“What?” Cheerilee and Applejack said, their eyes bulging.

“When we saw Cheerilee and that stallion hanging there, we wanted to get them down,” Sweetie Belle said, her voice cracking. She wiped at her eye with a hoof as it teared, “but we realized we didn’t bring a ladder or a knife or anything, so—”

“Wait, what if you’d been caught in these traps?” Cheerilee said, her hooves on her hips.

The three fillies dropped their eyes to the ground.

Applejack sighed. “Oh, Apple Bloom…”

“We ran back to get somethin’ to get you down with, but then Applejack saw us with Granny’s big kitchen knife and made us put it back. We tried to tell her that we needed it to get you guys down, but she wouldn’t let us get past the part where you were up in the trees.”

Cheerilee turned to glare at Applejack.

Applejack chuckled uncomfortably. “Uh… sorry.” Clearing her throat, she pointed back toward the farmhouse. “Well, don’t just sit there, you three! Go get that ladder and knife!”

~~~

Apple Bloom carefully bit down on the handle to Granny Smith’s best butcher knife and slid it out of the wooden block.

Scootaloo held out a hoof to help the earth pony filly down from the chair she stood on. “Okay, let’s get—”

A deep voice cleared its throat. “Apple Bloom, what do you think you’re doin’?”

“Applejack and Cheerilee and some other pony are caught in a trap and—”

Big Mac’s eyes blazed. “What? Where?” Scooping up the three crusaders, he dropped them onto his broad back. “And what did Granny Smith tell you about those?” he said, plucking the knife from his sister’s grip and dropping it on the counter.

“But we need—”

The kitchen door banged against the outside of the house. “What you need to do is tell me where Applejack is!” Big Mac said, charging outside.

Scootaloo exchanged glances with her friends and sighed. “Well, here we go again.”

Date Forty - Lightening the Mood

Timeline pursed his lips. “Look, all I’m saying is that I think you’re being a little hasty. I don’t think it’s time to start assigning blame. Let’s just figure out what to do about this.”

Cheerilee flailed, searching in vain for something-anything-to grab a hold of. “Well, if you have any clever ideas, I’m all ears. Otherwise, assigning blame is really all I’m good for at the moment.”

All four of Timeline’s mustard hooves pointed up into the sky. Grimacing, he tried to right himself, but ended up spinning in a very slow barrel roll. “What we need is to work teamwork.”

“Rah-rah! You can do it!” Cheerilee said, shooting the unicorn an icy stare. “Unless you’ve got a plan that requires the step-by-step breakdown of long division or knowledge of the five great Equestrian eras, this is pretty much up to you.”

Timeline held his hooves out wide. “I’m sorry, all right? I didn’t know that this was going to happen. The spell was just supposed to make us float.”

Cheerilee rolled her eyes. “Well, it's worked wonderfully. I’ve never felt so light.”

Timeline’s ears folded against his skull and looked away.

Cheerilee scowled at him, and then sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want this, and I shouldn’t take it out on you. It’s just that it's so frustrating! How did this even happen?”

Timeline completed another revolution. “Remember when I sneezed?” he said after a lengthy pause.

Cheerilee’s eye twitched. “We’re falling uncontrollably into the sky because you sneezed?”

“Well, it’s, uh…” Timeline’s hooves twined around one another. “It’s kind of a sensitive subject, but I was born with Spastic Horn Syndrome.”

“And that means what, exactly?”

A slow flush crept up the unicorn’s neck. “It means that my magic sometimes, uh, leaks when… things happen. Like sneezes, or sometimes other… Well, anyway, I was casting a buoyancy spell so that we could walk on water. I was going to ask you to the middle of the lake where I’d hoped we could, um… dance.” Timeline eyes darted to hers and away rapidly, never quite settling anywhere.

Cheerilee’s mouth dropped open. “You wanted us to dance on the water?”

The stallion nodded, the flush reaching his cheeks. “I knew the fireflies would be out soon, and the crickets and frogs would begin singing. I was hoping that you'd really enjoy it.”

Cheerilee kicked at the air and imagined that it was a living sneeze. “I can’t believe this! Why, when I—Berry!”

Spinning slowly in the air, Cheerilee finally found herself face down. Many yards below, her friend trotted somewhat unsteadily along the path that circled the lake. Cheerilee cupped her hooves around her mouth. “Berry! Berry, up here!”

On the ground, the earth pony looked this way and that, bewildered.

“No! Up here!” Cheerilee waved her legs frantically.

Finally looking up, Berry Punch waved back with equal vigor. Off balance, she stumbled to the side and threw a hoof out to catch herself on a tree truck. She gave Cheerilee her sunniest smile.

“Go get us some help! Call a pegasus!”

Berry cupped a hoof around her ear, and then shrugged.

“Ooh, that pony!” Cheerilee growled, slapping a hoof over her face. “Go back into town and get somepony to come rescue us!”

Her friend just tilted her head to the side.

“I think we’ll have to pantomime it,” Timeline said. “We’re probably thirty feet up now. I’m sure she can’t understand us at all.”

Cheerilee noted with some alarm that Berry did seem to be getting further away. “Okay, let’s do it.” Side by side, the ponies alternated between running, pointing back to town, and screaming into each other ears.

Finally, Berry perked up and nodded vigorous. Moving out onto the path, she swayed in place before mirroring the pair’s moves. Feeling the groove, she added few hoof scoots and rump shakes to liven things up a little.

“No, you lush! Quit dancing and go get a pegasus!”

Wiping her brow, Berry waved a final time and set out on the path again.

“Not that way!” Cheerilee said, glowering. “BACK TO TOWN!”

Timeline sighed, upside down once more. “It’s no use. We’ll just have to hope she runs into somepony and tells them.”

“That mare! She’s lucky I don’t have magic myself or I’d—Hey wait a minute!” Cheerilee’s face crinkled. “Can’t you just cancel the spell or teleport us down? You’re a unicorn!”

Timeline tried to smile, but it somehow never made it past a pained grimace. “I’d have to know which spell I cast in order to cancel it. That’s the problem with Spastic Horn. I can’t control what comes out. I wanted us to be more buoyant, not to fly.” He shook his head sadly. “As for my magic, I generally use it for historical research. I don’t know much about flight or teleportation. It’s not something that I generally need. I can barely lift a book, let alone move a fully grown mare.”

“How can there not be a pegasus around?” Cheerilee said, craning her neck to scan the area. “There’s always a pegasus around! You can barely trot to the store and back without Rainbow Dash dropping a water balloon on you or something!” Cheerilee crossed her hooves tightly. “Then when you really need them…”

“Shoo. Get off me!”

Cheerilee twisted around to get a look. Behind her, Timeline was trying to shake off a pair a fatigued green jays. Kicking his legs lightly, the stallion tried to encourage them to fly off.

They landed again immediately, chirping at the unicorn in increasingly agitated tones.

“I said leave me be!”

Cheerilee waved her hooves. “No! Stop! Look, you’re sinking!”

Timeline squinted, first at Cheerilee and then at the ground. “I think you’re right!”

“The birds!” Cheerilee beamed and pointed. “They’re weighing you down!”

Timeline was noticeably lower now. “Okay, now we just have to get one of them over to you.” Enveloping a green jay with his magic, Timeline tugged. “Okay, how about this one—ow!”

Scowling at the stallion, the green jay sank is tiny talons into Timeline’s hip and refused to let go. When the stallion pulled harder, the jay pecked him.

“Why you little—”

“They’re tired. They just want to rest,” Cheerilee said as the other jay poked its head under its wing.

“But they’re all we’ve got!”

Several feet separated them now, and Cheerilee desperately wanted to put her hoof out and catch hold of the stallion. “I know,” she finally said, watching him drift away. “And that’s why you’ve got to get to the ground and run as fast as you can. Find any pony with wings and get them into the air.”

Overhead, a flock of ducks flew in a wide chevron, quacking loudly. Cheerilee winced when the flight leader gave her a double take. “And hurry!”

As Timeline sank further away, Cheerilee squinted at the ducks. Performing a wingover, they glared back. Their eyes promised pain. Maybe Timeline will make it and maybe he won’t, but ducks weight a lot more than tiny songbirds. I took out a giant, love-crazed robot. A bunch of malicious mallards should be a cakewalk! Growling, Cheerilee shook her hoof at the approaching flock. “Bring it, you featherbrains!”

Date Forty-Two - The Cold Shoulder

Cheerilee wound a second scarf around Caramel’s neck, and then threw another blanket over him. “Is that b-better?”

Shivering violently, Caramel didn’t seem to hear her. His blank, wide-eyed stare was fixed on Ponyville’s frozen pond, which was currently surrounded by a small army of harried pegasi and hypothermic earth ponies and unicorns.

Cheerilee stroked his mane, picking out the small bits of ice she kept finding. I’d be surprised if he can hear anything at all over the sound of his teeth chattering. Retrieving her charred stick, she tried to bring some life back to the dwindling fire. She’d barely managed to get it going in the first place, and even though they were both nearly sitting in it, the fire offered little warmth. Pursing her lips, she glared over her shoulder. “I s-suppose you h-have a g-good explanation!”

Rainbow’s brow furrowed. “Huh? Me?” The pegasus brought her hoof to her chest. “Hey, I’m not the one who decided to go swimming during a scheduled freeze!”

Cheerilee wrapped the quilt around herself more tightly. She’d been rubbing her frozen skin for twenty minutes now, but it didn’t seem to be helping. “It’s the m-middle of s-summer! W-why would anypony think w-we were in for f-f-freezing temperatures?”

“Well, it’s not the weather team’s fault that ponies don’t check the paper. It’s right there every day.” Reaching into her saddlebag, Rainbow pulled out a piece of parchment. “Same report we get, and today it called for ice weather at the pond.”

“W-what do you m-mean ‘ice weather’?” Cheerilee held out her hoof. “C-can I s-see that?”

“Suit yourself,” Rainbow said, handing the paper over with a shrug.

Ugh. I’m shivering so badly that I can’t even read this. Inching closer to the fire, Cheerilee forced her hooves to stop trembling for a moment.

Ponyville local weather:

Clear, with warm temperatures. Southwesterly breezes - three to eight knots. The Mayor has requested ice weather at the pond to facilitate a variety of outdoor functions, so please make that a focus.

Weather Coordinator Zephyr

Cheerilee rested her head in her hoof. “Nice w-weather, Rainbow!”

The pegasus puffed out her chest. “I know, right? My team’s really been on fire lately! Last month, we took the department’s award for Most Efficient, and we’re—”

“No, I mean it was supposed to be ‘nice weather’!”

“Huh?” Rainbow trotted over and plucked the paper from Cheerilee’s hoof. Grimacing, Rainbow’s eyes scanned the page rapidly. “Uh, I don’t really see where you’re getting that.”

“It’s right here!” Cheerilee said, jumping up and tapping the paper.

Rainbow frowned. “Yeah, like I said before, it says ‘ice weather.’ Jeez, Cheerilee, for a teacher, you’re kinda—”

“It’s a typo!” Cheerilee said, throwing her blanket to the ground as her temper flared. “It’s clearly supposed to say ‘nice weather at the pond’.”

Rainbow sighed. “Look, Cheerilee,” she said with forced patience, “I don’t know how it works at the school, but on the weather team, we follow orders. The weather’s not some sort of thing that just happens. It takes planning and finesse. You don’t just get your orders for the day and say to yourself, ‘well, it calls for snow but I think I’d like a dust storm instead.’ It might be all good in your class to swap out for reading time if you don’t feel like hoof painting or teaching fractions or something, but we’ve got an ecosystem to think about.”

Cheerilee slapped a hoof over her face. “Rainbow, your team’s been flying frozen ponies out of the lake for the last half an hour! Why do you think that is?”

The pegasus threw her hooves up. “’Cause nopony reads the weather report like they’re supposed to! I mean, you don’t even know the number of times that Rarity has chewed me out because her mane got all messed up when it rained.”

Cheerilee wrapped her blanket around herself again when Flitter came in for a landing. The air was still frigid, and as the pegasus flapped to slow her descent, Cheerilee was buffeted by an arctic-cold blast. Beside her, Caramel moaned pitifully.

“All the ponies have been pulled from the water,” Flitter said, saluting. “We’ve sent word to the hospital, and they said that unicorns with warming spells should be arriving any second.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “For the millionth time, you don’t have to salute. This isn’t the military.”

Flitter sagged. “Aw, but—”

“Look, I really don’t think this is the time!” Cheerilee said, stoking up her fire again. “Why don’t you guys just fly these ponies over to the hospital?” She pointed to where Caramel sat, hunched miserably in his blankets. Only his brilliantly red nose was visible. “Starting with him. He’s half dead because you pegasi can’t figure out context!”

Rainbow stomped forward, her lower jaw jutting out. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Let’s get one thing straight. My weather team did their job, and they did it well!”

Beside her, Flitter nodded.

“I don’t have the pony-power to fly all you guys to the hospital!” Rainbow continued. “Three quarters of my team is still up there funneling down all the cold air. I don’t know how many pegasi you think—”

Cheerilee’s eyes flew wide. “You mean you’re still freezing the pond?”

“Well, yeah!” Rainbow replied, cocking her head to the side and staring at the teacher as though she’d lost her mind. “We had to warm it up so the ice would break. Otherwise we couldn’t’ve gotten you guys out. Now we’ll have to work overtime to get it frozen again! It’s a big pain in our tails, and it would be nice to get a little appreciation! I mean, I’m not asking for a medal, though we probably deserve one after all we’ve been through today, but some credit would be nice.”

Rainbow paced and threw the teacher an irritated glance. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep the weather in Ponyville warm while just freezing the lake? I had ponies up all night trying to figure it out. It’s almost impossible!” Rainbow shined a hoof on her chest. “Almost, but not quite. Not only did we do it, we froze that lake in record time! That’s why they give these hard jobs to the best—Uh oh!”

Cheerilee looked over her shoulder as Rainbow pointed to something behind her. Mayor Mare, Twilight Sparkle, and Zephyr had just crested a nearby hill and were galloping straight for them, their faces grim.

“Whoa! They sure do look mad," Rainbow said, fixing Cheerilee with a pointed stare. “Looks like some ponies are in trouble! I’d hate to be you guys. The mayor’s probably going to sentence you all to safety classes or something.”

Rolling her eyes, Cheerilee sat down next to Caramel again. He was still shivering violently. Cheerilee wrapped herself around him and tried to provide at least a little more warmth. Resting her head against his shoulder, her eyes fell to the picnic basket beside him, still covered in several inches of ice. “You probably can’t hear me, but I just wanted you to know that I’m no fair weather mare,” she whispered, giving his frosty cheek a quick peck. “Next time for sure, big guy.”

Date Forty-Three - Movie Scars

Sandy Shores checked her watch and silently thanked her old partner once again. They hadn’t seen eye to eye on very much, but one piece of his advice had served her well: Always seat the patient facing away. That way, they can’t tell how bored you are.

“We’ve been through this, Cheerilee. ‘Life’ is not out to get anypony. We are the products of our upbringing and of random circumstance. It’s unhealthy to—”

Reclined on a nearby couch, Cheerilee threw a hoof up. “And we keep going through it because nopony seems to understand! These things don’t just happen! It’s a… I don’t know! A conspiracy, or… or a plot or something!” Leaning on an elbow, Cheerilee whipped her head around. “I know how that sounds, but something is going on!”

Caught off guard, Sandy dropped her quill. Oh, here we go. She made sure to assume her most tolerant expression when she leaned back into her plush office chair. “I know it feels that way, Cheerilee, but it’s very common to see oneself at the center of random events. It’s our way of making sense of the senseless.”

Cheerilee slowly shook her head. “Forty-three. Nopony has forty-three terrible dates in a row. It just doesn’t happen!”

Sandy sighed and wished she were at the beach again. Why didn’t I listen to my dad? she thought, doodling in her notebook. ‘Who wants to work on a stinky old boat?’ I said. ‘I want to be a therapist and actually help ponies!’ I said. What an idiot… She’s been coming here for months and she’s as stubbornly attached to this delusion as she’s ever been.

“—an explanation?”

Sandy shook herself. “I’m sorry. Could you repeat that? I missed it.”

Cheerilee half-turned, catching Sandy with her eye. “I asked if you had an explanation, because I’m at a loss.”

Sandy fought to keep her expression neutral. What she really wanted was to shout and to throw things at the wall. It was like being lost in a cavern and finding yourself in the same passage over and over. You’d think you’d found the way out, only to see your hoofprints in the dust. “Tell me about your last encounter and we’ll see if we can figure this out together,” she said reluctantly

Cheerilee flopped back down onto the couch. “Well, I met this really nice stallion named Loop. He’s a jeweler.”

Imagine that. Sandy scribbled the name on her mostly blank notepad. “And how did that make you feel?”

“What? His name?”

Sandy underlined the notation. “Uh… sure.”

“I didn’t feel one way or the other about his name. It suited him, I guess.”

“Mmmm. Interesting.”

“Anyway,” Cheerilee continued after a moment’s silence, “I bumped into him at the library and one thing led to another. All of a sudden, he was asking me out to the movies.”

Sandy stifled a yawn. “And how do the movies make you feel?”

“I don’t see what—” Cheerilee took a deep breath. “I like going to the movies. At least there everything always seems to work out in the end.”

“Mmmm. Interesting.”

“So we met up in the lobby and got our seats.” Cheerilee fidgeted. “I should have known it was going too well. He was really cute and a great conversationalist. I was actually a little upset when the movie started because we’d been having this great discussion about the pros and cons of Equestria’s governmental structure, but we had to cut it off. It always seems like…”

Seagulls. Sandy half-closed her eyes and imagined she could see gulls wheeling lazily overhead. She was warm, and the sand shifted under her hooves slightly as she labored through it. Despite the effort, she was grinning. The salt air invigorated her, and the light breeze—

“Are you listening?”

Sandy jumped, dropping her quill again. Cheerilee was eyeing her suspiciously. “Ah, sorry. I was just thinking about how much I like government, too.”

Cheerilee squinted at her therapist for several seconds before continuing. “Anyway, we’d been watching the film for an hour or so when Loop decided that he wanted some popcorn. It didn’t take him too long, but then…”

Despite herself, Sandy cocked an ear toward her patient. “And then what?”

Cheerilee let out a lengthy sigh. “I knew it was going too well. Loop came back, but, well, he was awfully...” Poking up above the couch, Cheerilee’s ears turned bright red. “...frisky.”

Sandy uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. “Frisky?”

“Yeah. He sat back down and, um, he was kind of all over me. First our hooves kept touching in the popcorn bucket, and then he leaned over and just laid one right on me.”

“And how did having one laid on you make you feel?”

Cheerilee’s hooves twisted around each other. “Um… wanted. Guilty. Unsure. Excited.”

“Mmmm! Interesting!” Sandy jotted more down in her notebook. “But while this sounds a little forward, it doesn’t exactly sound bad.”

Cheerilee covered her eyes with her hooves. “We were making out like yearlings! I mean, really going at it. He had his hoof all twined up in my mane, you know, kind of pulling it. I, um, used a lot of tongue.”

Sandy tapped the notebook with her quill a few times. “… And?”

“It’s just that it was so dark in there!”

Sandy blinked. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well,” Cheerilee replied with a loud swallow, “the lights finally came up and I just screamed! A-and I slapped him!”

Sandy’s eyes bulged. “What? Cheerilee, that’s not reasonable—”

“It was Filthy Rich!”

The statement hung in the air between them. Finally, Sandy removed her glasses and cleaned them with a soft cloth she kept in her desk. “Could we go over this again? I’m afraid you’ve lost me.”

Cheerilee’s clutched the sides of her head and moaned. “I’m not even sure that I have it right. There was a lot of yelling and hoof-pointing going on.”

“Just take your time and do your best,” Sandy replied in her most understanding voice. “If it helps, think of something relaxing for a few minutes. Perhaps the beach. Or ocean waves.”

Cheerilee took a deep breath. “After the screaming and… um, the slapping, I turned around to see Loop in the row behind us with some sleek model-type. I guess Filthy and his date sat behind us, and then when Loop went to get popcorn, Filthy did, too.” Cheerilee covered her face with a pillow. “Oh, it was so dark in there!”

Sandy’s quill hovered above the page. She had no idea what to write about this one. “Uh, so how did all of that make you feel?”

Cheerilee sat up and threw her hooved up over her head. “How do you think it made me feel? I was making out with a stallion that I despise while my date waltzes off with some knockout because ‘She seems a little more into him!’ Filthy’s yelling at me about lawsuits, and then yelling at Loop for date-theft, and then yelling at his date that he wants a refund! Meanwhile, the other patrons went to go get more popcorn so that they could sit back down to watch us fight. Ugh!” She fell back onto the couch with a thud. “What a nightmare. It’s a curse. It’s the only explanation.”

Sandy checked her watched again. Five minutes? How can it only have been five minutes? As she watched, the minute hand ticked over. “Just thirty-two to go now.”

“What?” Cheerilee said, twisting her head around.

“Nothing!” Sandy replied, tearing her eyes from her watch. “Please continue.”

“Well, doesn’t it sound like a curse to you?” Cheerilee reclined again, folding her hooves on her stomach. “I’ve spoken to Twilight about it three times, but she acts so funny around me these days. And Zecora has asked me not to tromp through Everfree again, so I can only catch her at the market. I’ve read every book at the library, and I think…”

I should have listened to my dad, Sandy thought again, drawing a seagull soaring over a sailboat. The open ocean. The salt air. Just me and the sea. She checked her watch again, adding “So how did that make you feel?” when Cheerilee took a breath. Cheerilee’s reply was lost in the waves Sandy was adding beneath her sailboat. Why didn't I listen to my dad?

Date Forty-Four - Love's Just Not In The Cards

Cheerilee jumped when the cocktail waitress tapped her on the shoulder. "What—Oh, thanks," She’d totally forgotten that she’d ordered a drink some forty-five minutes ago. I guess everything here moves slowly. Cheerilee took a sip, and then stuck out her tongue. Ugh. Watery. Frowning at the drink, she tried to find a place on the cluttered poker table to set it down.

Beside her, Cloud Dancer hunched over her cards and stared at them intently. Licking her lips, the pegasus pulled one from the middle and moved it to the far right of her hoof. After several seconds of intense concentration, she moved it back.

Cheerilee took another reluctant pull from the glass and squinted at the clock through the casino’s smoky haze again. Four hours. My rump is getting sore.

“Make your call, already,” a baggy-eyed and stubble-jawed stallion growled from their left. “Some of us ain’t got all day.”

A trickle of sweat traced a glistening line down the side of Cloud’s cheek. “Just… just hold on a sec. I’m thinking!”

The mare to their right tapped her cards against the table’s green felt repeatedly. “Well, think faster and quit stalling!”

Cloud's cheeks puffed out as she blew out an explosive sigh. “Okay, okay! Uh… I’ll see your fifty bits and raise twenty.”

The stallion rolled his eyes. “Call. Three queens.”

The mare swore and tossed her cards to the table. “Two pair.”

Cloud Dancer swallowed hard and put her cards on the table with a trembling hoof. Three of clubs. Five of diamonds. Ten of clubs. Jack of hearts. Ace of spades. “Um… nothing?”

“Are you kidding me?” Cheerilee said, sloshing some of her drink as she threw her hooves up. “You’ve been staring at those cards for ten minutes!”

Cloud gripped Cheerilee’s shoulder tightly with her hoof, her eyes flicking left and right. “Can you lend me some bits?” she whispered.

Cheerilee blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Look, it’s just until I hit, okay?” Cloud Dancer’s eyes slid to the hulking security guards on either side of the table. “My luck’s about to turn, but I’m in a little hole right now, so if you could—”

“Well, it’s not my fault that you ran through all your money!” Cheerilee said. “Anyway, I’m a teacher. How many extra bits do you think I have to throw around?”

Cloud scowled at her. “If you don’t have any bits, then why did you want to gamble?”

“Me?” Cheerilee’s hoof flew to her chest. “You’re the one who was dying to come here. I figured we’d just try our luck on a few slot machines, maybe a little blackjack, and then we’d head out for dinner. Instead, I’ve been sitting here with a bunch of lousy drinks watching you steadily lose that pile of chips.”

“It was your idea to try poker!”

Cheerilee rubbed her aching temple and took a deep breath. “Yes. Yes it was. And you know what? I played two hands and lost fifteen bits. It took less than ten minutes, and I’ve been sitting here waiting on you ever—”

“Not that this isn’t fascinating,” the table’s elegantly dressed dealer said, leaning in between them, “but are you ladies in or out?”

Cloud motioned for another hand. “In!”

“Out,” Cheerilee said, hopping off the stool.

The dealer’s hoof shot into the air and two large and grim-faced security stallions trotted up. “No can do,” one of them growled as he wrapped his massive hoof around Cheerilee’s waist and gently set her back onto her stool.

Cheerilee’s smacked at the stallion’s hoof ineffectually. “What the—put me down!”

“Sorry, ma’am,” the dealer said with a shrug. “It’s casino policy. Nopony leaves the table until all players bets are settled. Your friend here’s run quite a tab.”

Cheerilee’s head ratcheted back and forth as she stared at the group incredulously, finally settling on Cloud Dancer. The pegasus looked down, suddenly seeming to take great interest in a small rip in the table’s fabric.

Cheerilee’s stomach sank. “Um, Cloud, you do have the bits to cover this, right?”

The pegasus picked at the rip.

Cheerilee crossed her hooves over her chest and glared at the mare. “If I lend you the bits, can we get out of here?”

Cloud Dancer ran her hoof over the rip again and nodded silently.

“Okay, how much do you need?”

The pegasus pushed her meager pile of chips around, counting. “Five…”

Cheerilee reached for her saddlebag.

“…Hundred.”

Cheerilee gasped and dropped her bag. “Five hundred? You need five hundred bits before we can leave?”

“How do you think we feel, lady?” the stubble-faced stallion said. “I was supposed to be at work three hours ago!”

The mare crossed her legs tightly over her chest. “My family’s probably been sitting at the dinner table all night!”

“Oh, come on.” Cheerilee turned to the dealer and threw her hooves wide. “What are you going to do? Keep us here forever?”

The dealer shrugged, pointing over his shoulder to several elderly ponies sitting around a badly worn table. “See those guys?”

Cheerilee nodded, and her mouth suddenly felt very dry.

Separating his stack of cards into two piles, the dealer tapped them into alignment. With practiced ease, he shuffled them together and repeated the process. “They’ve been here for twenty years.”

“What kind of sense does that make?” Cheerilee said, a vein on her forehead bulging. “You can’t just keep ponies prisoner.”

The dealer nodded to a large sign hanging over the door. “Hey, it’s all there in the rules. Nopony forced you to play here.”

Cheerilee squinted at the sign. “It just says ‘Welcome to Lucky Horseshoes Casino.’”

“Rules are on the back.”

“On the back?” Cheerilee pointed to the sign. “What are you talking about? It’s nailed on!”

The dealer took a deep, steadying breath. “And we keep a crowbar right by the door in case anypony wants to look,” he said with exaggerated patience as he pointed to a thin, black box with a glass front. Above the box was a small sign that read ‘In The Event Of Attorneys, Break Glass.’

“This is ridiculous,” Cheerilee said through clenched teeth. “Thank you for an… interesting night, Cloud, but—oof!” Cheerilee bounced off the chest of one of the hulking security detail. Cheerilee’s hooves kicked helplessly in the air as he deposited her back atop her chair.

The dealer patted Cheerilee’s hoof. “Look, we aren’t unsympathetic. Ponies do come in unprepared sometimes. It happens.” Leaning down, the dealer pulled out a small metal box and rifled through it. After pulling out a piece of paper, a pencil, and an envelope, he set them down in front of the two mares. “You can write to anypony you know and see if they’ll send you some bits. We’ll add the postage to your tab.”

The baggy-eyed stallion leaned his cheek against his hoof. “Look, are we gonna play or not?”

“Yeah!” Cloud said, perking up. “Deal ’em!”

“What do you mean ‘deal ’em?’” Cheerilee said, exasperated. “You don’t any bits left! That’s the whole problem!”

Cloud put a hoof to her chin and ran her eyes over Cheerilee. Motioning the dealer over, she pointed to the house’s supply of chips. “How much can I get if I put a slightly used mare up for collateral?”

The dealer slowly shook his head while one of the guards placed a restraining hoof against the sputtering teacher’s chest. “Sorry,” he said loudly over Cheerilee’s inarticulate growling, “Lucky Horseshoes is legally obligated to remind our guests that it no longer accepts alternative forms of tender, and that it now completes its court appointed ethics training twice a year.”

Cheerilee lunged, trying to grab the perplexed pegasus from around the massive stallion. “Why you…” she finally managed.

“Jeez, you’re uptight!” Cloud Dancer said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not like there’s any risk. I’m just about to hit! I can feel it! I just need somepony to front the bits and we can be out of here!”

Cheerilee glared at the pegasus. “If you think we’re still going out after this, you’ve lost your mind!”

Cloud Dancer pointed to the tiny stack of chips in front of her. “Well, we aren’t going anywhere at all without more bits to ante with!”

“Well… I…” Cheerilee stared up at the security stallion. He seemed like a vast, muscular wall. An impenetrable object. With a groan, she let her head fall to the table.

“Um…” Cloud said hesitantly beside her. “Can I still bet on a credit line?”

With a quick tug, the dealer straightened his tuxedo vest. “Certainly!” he replied with a sunny smile.

Cheerilee picked up the pencil with a heavy sigh. Her head was throbbing fiercely now. For a moment, she frowned at the paper and admired its white featurelessness. Boring and predictable. Why can’t my life be like that? Licking the tip of the pencil, she set it to paper and began.

Dear Princess Celestia,

Your Majesty, it was truly an honor to receive your letter several weeks ago. While it wasn’t necessary, your apology for the weeks that I spent at sea due to your nephew’s behavior was greatly appreciated. I’d had no intention of taking up your valuable time when you offered to make it up to me, but I’ve found myself in a pickle…

Date Forty-Six - Full of Hot Air

“… And I thought we’d really made a connection, you know? I thought we’d really had something. But then Blossomforth told me that she’d seen Raindrops out with Thunderlane, and Fastball kept giving me this look whenever he saw me. Like he knew something, or… or that he had some secret. It was just too much to take after a while, and I…”

Cheerilee put a little added emphasis into her yawn this time. Two hours ago, this hot air balloon ride had seemed like such a fun way to spend some uninterrupted time with a handsome pegasus stallion, but now she found herself staring at the tiny ponies trotting below her with growing envy.

“… She was always trying to change me. Nothing was ever good enough with that mare. I’d get a new jacket, but it would be the wrong color. I’d have lunch with her, but I’d pick the wrong spot. She was so critical of every little thing, you know? There was this one time when…”

Cheerilee tried glaring and tapping her hoof against the basket’s wicker floor, but without any real sense of hope. He hadn’t picked up on it last time, either. Doesn’t he ever have to take a breath?

“… But oh no! That wasn’t good enough for her! I went completely out of my way to get that bouquet, but that’s not good enough for some mares! Some mares want—”

Cheerilee cleared her throat with as much force as she could muster. “Look, I appreciate you explaining so, um… completely why I seem so much better than your last marefriend, but could we please talk about something else?”

Guiding Light bit his lip and dropped his eyes. “Uh, sorry. I guess a got a little carried away there. Um…”

A tense silence stretched out between them.

“Brr,” Cheerilee finally said, rubbing her leg briskly with a hoof. “It does get nippy up here, doesn’t it.”

Guiding Light’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, are you getting cold?”

Cheerilee edged closer, smiling. “Yeah, I’m a bit chilly, but if you stand—”

Guiding opened the small storage locker beside him and pulled out a stained parka. “Here you go.”

Cheerilee’s smile slipped, and she stared at the jacket for a moment before taking it. “Uh… thanks.”

“Hopefully it fits. I tried to give my jacket to Raindrops once when she was cold, but she said it was way too loose in the shoulders. See, that’s how it is! You go through all the trouble of giving your nice, warm jacket for your marefriend, and she just can’t appreciate it. No, it’s always—”

“Guiding…”

The stallion turned to Cheerilee, blinking. “Huh?”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Oh. Right.” Guiding hung his head. “Sorry.”

Cheerilee sat and worked her legs through the jacket’s sleeves. “How about we talk about… uh…” Cheerilee’s eyes darted around rapidly, searching for anything. “The balloon!”

Guiding Light scratched his mane and shrugged. “Well, it’s not all that interesting. It’s a hot air balloon, ya know?”

Cheerilee zipped the jacket up and thrust her chilled hooves deep into the pockets. “Well, you never know what you’ve missed. Maybe I could plan a lesson around it! I’m sure the foals would love to learn how this all works!”

“Okay, then.” Guiding tapped the basket. “First, you have to start with a basket that’s really supportive. One that’s going to keep things together, even when the going gets tough, or when it seems to be carrying all the weight.”

Cheerilee arched an eyebrow.

Guiding pointed to the envelope towering above them. “Then you attach it to a beautiful, open, accepting partner, and you think ‘Wow, it’s a perfect match!”

Cheerilee shot the stallion a flat stare. “Guiding…”

The stallion pulled the burner’s cord, and a gout of flame erupted from the top. “But then you find out that the basket’s partner is just full of hot air, and she just takes over the relationship and drags you along wherever it is that she wants to go!”

“Guiding…”

“Oh, but you keep on working at it!” Guiding Light yanked at the knot securing one of the ballast sandbags to the basket. The balloon rose sharply as the bag fell. “You just keep making sacrifices, jettisoning little bits of yourself in attempt to keep the relationship afloat, but eventually she says that the flame has gone out and that the relationship’s run out of fuel even though you’ve worked so hard to make it just the way she liked it. Then you come crashing back to earth.”

“Guiding…”

“A-and then she runs off with Thunderlane, and you’re left behind with everypony just laughing at you because you’re such a chump. It certainly doesn’t matter that you gave her everything she ever wanted or that you tried so hard to be the stallion that she wanted. No! All that matters is—”

“GUIDING!”

The stallion shook himself. “Huh?”

“Look,” Cheerilee said softly. “I don’t want to seem like I’m telling you your business, but I think maybe you’re just not ready for this yet.”

Guiding Light blinked at Cheerilee for a moment. “This what?”

Cheerilee motioned back and forth between them. “This.”

The stallion sighed and hung his head again. “Yeah, maybe.”

Cheerilee patted his shoulder. “You shouldn’t rush into something right away. These things take time.”

“It’s…” Guiding looked off into the distance, then swallowed hard. “It’s just been a lonely last decade, you know?”

“Last decade?” Cheerilee’s eyebrows knit together. “You two broke up a decade ago?”

“Twenty-three years, eight months, three days, and sixteen hours ago, but the last ten years have been the toughest,” came the immediate response. “We went steady for almost all of third grade.”

Cheerilee jumped up and unzipped the jacket in one smooth motion. She was suddenly very warm. “Are you kidding me?”

Guiding Light leaned against the basket’s wall and laid his head on its edge. “I wish I was.” Sighing, he traced small hearts onto the wicker floor with his hoof. “I thought maybe seeing another mare—oof!” Guiding flailed as the thrown jacket caught him full in the face.

Cheerilee glared at the pegasus. “Take me back down to the ground, please.”

“Uh… okay, if that’s what you want.”

Cheerilee turned and swept her hoof across Equestria’s horizon. “No, what I want is a simple, normal relationship with somepony.”

“Oh, I get that!” Guiding Light said, nodding vigorously. “That’s all I wanted, too, but it just wasn’t enough. I kept on giving and giving, and what did I get? Nothing! She just…”

Cheerilee sighed and checked the burner’s fuel gauge. It was three-quarters full. Peeking over the edge of the basket, she tried to judge the distance to the sparkling lake far below. Hmmm. Bruises for sure. Probably some broken bones, too. Beside her, Guiding Light was gesticulating wildly, adding extra emphasis to his telling of their rocky date to the spring dance in the school’s cafeteria. It’s that or hear about Raindrops for the next three hours. Squinting, she checked the lake again. It seemed just a bit closer. He’s so caught up that he isn’t firing the burner. Just a bit more… Cheerilee cleared her throat. “Guiding, how did you two meet in the first place?”

The stallion’s ears perked up. “Oh, that’s a story, let me tell you! I was at recess, and…”

Cheerilee nodded occasionally and kept an eye on the approaching lake. Just keep talking, buster.

Date Forty-Seven - A Secret Affair

Cheerilee ran her hoof lightly over the handsome leather-bound volumes of Equestria: Our History that lined the bookcases of the university’s restricted section. “I’ve never seen a complete collection before! You even have the Annotated Annals and the Disputed Errata.”

“A great many rarities travel through the university’s donation center,” the periwinkle unicorn replied while unlocking a shuttered shelf. “A great many things, indeed. Here, perhaps you will enjoy this.”

Cheerilee gasped. “Are those…”

“You told me that you had a respect for literature,” Card said with a laugh, “I see that you weren’t kidding!”

Approaching slowly, almost reverently, Cheerilee’s eyes grew wide as she scanned the shelves. “The Collected Papers of Clover the Clever… Seaponies and Other Legends… And is this a first edition of A Mare in Manehattan?” Cheerilee’s hoof shot out.

“No!” Card threw himself in front of the shelf.

Cheerilee paused for a moment, then took a single step back. “Um…”

“Ah, sorry! Sorry.” Card folded the shutter back into place with trembling hooves. For a moment, he scowled at the latch before it finally snapped into place, then offered Cheerilee a rueful half-smile. “I didn’t mean for that to be so… forceful. It’s just that many of those books are frightfully old. The pages crack if they are opened. We get so many donations from well-meaning patrons, but I’m afraid that many of them have treated their treasures rather shabbily. I do what I can—what I must—to protect the knowledge they contain within. I do hope you’ll forgive that. It was thoughtless.”

“Of course,” Cheerilee said, and she gave the librarian an encouraging smile. “The foals don’t mean to, but sometimes they’ll break things if I don’t keep a close eye on them. I know what it’s like.”

Card wiped away a light layer of perspiration. “You’re most gracious. Knowledge is the greatest asset that society has to hold the forces of chaos in check. It takes but the lost of a single rare text to endanger us all.”

Cheerilee opened her mouth, then paused. “Well…”

“Oh, you think I’m overreaching?” Card snorted, then retrieved a well-worn book from an upper shelf. “Hidden Truths, written by Grassy Knoll,” he said, tapping the cover. “Without this, we would still believe that Princess Luna had been banished to the moon!”

Silence stretched out between them as Cheerilee blinked several times. Finally, she cleared her throat. “But Princess Luna was banished to the moon.”

“Cheerilee, you surprise me.” Shaking his head, Card licked the tip of his hoof and flipped rapidly through several pages. “Ah, here we are.” Card fished out a set of pince nez, then held the book out at leg’s length and began:

“The inner workings of the royals have ever been murky, but none so much as the sudden disappearance of Celestia’s own sister, Princess Luna. The official line offered to the public was that the criminal Nightmare Moon and Princess Luna were one and the same, but it is only through painstaking research that the truth becomes apparent. Princesses Celestia and Luna have, in fact, merged into a single entity. A sort of Ubercorn, if you will.

Intercepted documents meant for the Griffon Empire speak of an arms race, and what could be more powerful than the merger of Equestria’s greatest forces? Though tensions were rising, the griffons never invaded. Now, what could logically deter such an adversary?”

Card snapped the book shut. “It goes on and on, but I’m sure you can follow the path.”

Cheerilee winced as the familiar throb began between her eyes. “But they clearly aren’t a single entity. They’re both in the palace. Right now. Together.”

“Well, the danger’s past, hasn’t it?” Card replied, enunciating each syllable slowly and carefully for her. “Without the looming threat of war, there is no need for the Ubercorn any longer.”

Cheerilee fell back on her haunches and rubbed her temple. “And the threat from the griffons was so great that the Ubercorn was needed for a thousand years?”

“Clearly,” Card said. He took off his pince nez and stuffed it back into his pocket before giving her a pointed look. “Really, Cheerilee. Your personal said that your were an intellectual, and the first job of an intellectual is to question. Things are not as they seem.”

“Oh, I’m questioning, all right,” Cheerilee said with an eyeroll. “I don’t suppose this—” She squinted at the book’s spine “—Grassy Knoll has any kind of proof, does he?”

Card raised his eyebrow and held the book up once more.

“Let me see that.” Cheerilee flipped the tome open and scanned the notes for several minutes. “It’s all interviews. Where is the documentation?”

“Suppressed, of course.” Card shook his head. “The government keeps a firm hoof on such things. Take this, for example.” Opening a nearby drawer, Card fished through it for a moment. “I assume you’ve studied Discord’s reign?”

“Of course. I’m actually planning to take the foals to his statue for a lesson some—”

Card whirled, thrusting a small block of carved wood out before him. “See? That’s exactly what I mean! There was no reign of Discord! He’s a legend the government has used to scare foals in the night! The woodcut I hold in my hooves shines truth’s light on the subject!”

Cheerilee focused in on the wavering block. On it, a rugged mare was chiseling a serpentine form from a block of stone. “And you believe that the princess had the statue commissioned?”

“Exactly!” Card Catalogue dropped the wooden block back into the drawer. “Now you’re getting it. What better way to keep the subjects in line, eh?”

Cheerilee threw her hooves up into the air. “Yes, that’s a perfectly rational explanation, except for the thousands of personal accounts from ponies throughout that era!”

“Mind Control!” Card whispered from behind his hoof. His eyes darted left and right before settling back into an intense stare. “It’s why Canterlot is elevated so greatly, and why it’s buildings are so high-reaching. It aids in transmission of the mental waves. If you’ll allow me to find the book…” Card tapped his chin and squinted up at his shelves.

Cheerilee followed his gaze. “So, the university, ah, funds this?”

“Unfortunately, no. This is my personal collection,” Card replied, frowning deeply. “Though not for lack of trying, mind you. I’ve petitioned for a public section on suppressed knowledge, but the regents must be in on it. It’s like talking to a wall. In fact, I have a book here that supports much of that. Now where was it…”

“Ah, that’s quite alright,” Cheerilee said as she checked the clock. “You know, it’s getting awfully late. Thanks for dinner, but—”

“Oh, I see how it is.” Card turned to scowl at her. “A little mental challenge, and you head for the hills. A little shakeup of your carefully constructed worldview, and away you run. Well, I apologize for trying to open your mind!”

Cheerilee shot to her hooves. “Open my— Challenge— Why, you—”

“If you are very lucky, you’ll see one day.” Card drew himself up to his full height and stared down his nose at her. “Until then, you have my pity. The truth is out there, and anypony who thinks themselves educated ought to strive for it. Why, just this very day, I learned that shapechangers walk amongst us. They’ve taken over the identities of ponies great and small to wrest control from our tyrant princess, seeking to replace her with their own. They feed on love, and—”

Cheerilee wrenched the library’s heavy wooden door open. “Well, given the state of my love-life, I should be perfectly safe. Maybe our conniving leader will make me some sort of secret operative. I’m sure you’ll read all about it one day. If you’re lucky.”

Stepping out into the university’s hallway, Cheerilee shot the librarian a final dirty glare, then slammed the door.

Date Forty-Eight - Halt, Criminal Scum (Guest Chapter by Georg)

Guest Chapter by Georg

“It’s time to put all of this weirdness behind me. No more blind dates, no matter what dad says. No more horny elk or Wonderbolts, no exciting adventure dates in volcanos, no awkward purple unicorns or Daring Do wannabees… Wait a minute. I never dated Twilight, did I? Oh, well. Even royalty was a complete bust, even if I did get to hone my ocean survival skill training with Blueblood.”

Cheerilee trotted down the darkening streets of Canterlot past the older earth pony section of town, enjoying the sights of the historic old mansions that held wealthy families of earth pony nobility since the founding of the city.

“No more weird dates. And what could be less weird than a normal Canterlot police officer, far, far away from Officer Turnkey? A nice, quiet, sane pony who can arrest any of the nuts who normally break up my dates.”

Polite and lettered, from the neat invitation he had sent by pegasus post. Normally Cheerilee had a habit of reading her incoming mail with a red pencil in her teeth, even the junk mail titled ‘You may have won!’ or ‘One weird trick to raise your retirement income!’ They all had at least one red mark by the time she was done, but the letter from “Officer Law” was laid out perfectly, with correct margins, punctuation, spelling… She had to re-read it twice before realizing it was a request for a date, and it took a whole day of careful drafting with Chickago’s Manual of Style close at hoof to craft a polite response.

“Canterlot is a practical place, with no bloodthirsty ducks or volcanos to interrupt a nice, quiet dinner with a nice, quiet stallion, and since their police department certainly filters out any jelly-obsessed nuts or robots, this date will be just perfect!”

She paused, one hoof up in the air and in a dramatic pose in the middle of the street, looking at a rather bemused unicorn in a Canterlot Police Department uniform.

“Officer Law, I presume?”

The older unicorn snorted once and gave her a long evaluating look from nose to tail and ending with a slow shaking of his head. “Miss Cheerilee, I’m Lieutenant Forthright, Office of Public Relations. Murphy should be along shortly. The department requires us to provide oversight whenever a civilian liaisons with an officer during official business hours. Sign here, please.”

A clipboard wrapped in his magic aura floated over and hovered in front of her. Cheerilee squinted at the writing in the dim light of the nearby streetlight before just grabbing the proffered pencil in her teeth and scribbling something incomprehensible at the bottom of the page. There was a brief light that somehow tasted like cotton and the police officer trotted off, calling back over his shoulder, “Thank you, Miss Cheerilee. The cloud-walking spell should last until morning. We appreciate your help tonight.”

“Help with what? And why a cloud-walking spell?” she muttered, her previous cheerful optimism rapidly fading.

“Sorry about this,” rumbled a rich tenor voice from somewhere behind and above her. There was something about the voice that sent a little tremble up her spine and made her knees weak, a voice that fairly dripped tall, dark, and handsome. “Most of the patrol officers are down with the Feather Flu, so I volunteered for an extra shift tonight under the condition that our date not be interrupted except for emergencies. You don’t mind, do you, ma’am?”

“Of course no—” Cheerilee stopped as she turned around. She had seen Luna’s nocturne stallions before, most normally at a distance or on the covers of various romantic fictions which described their physical characteristics in meticulous detail. Officer Law was indeed tall, dark, and handsome. Tall, as he was seated on a fairly large cloud which had been dragged down to just above the street. Dark, as he was a deep shade of charcoal grey which fairly glistened in the streetlight, offsetting his short cut violet mane. And handsome. Very handsome, with sharp white teeth that showed as he talked, and a set of broad membranous wings that stretched out in slow beats to keep the cloud stable against the soft north wind that wanted to blow it down the street. Up close, those golden eyes were almost hypnotic, something out of a Bramble Stalker novel from her nighttime reading list detailing the fantasy lives of Luna’s creations, mostly involving musty old castles with pipe organs and nubile young schoolteachers… err… maidens. Definitely maidens.

“Ma’am? Are you all right, ma’am?” She was vaguely aware of a large hoof being waved up and down in front of her face, and she blinked twice before responding.

“No, officer. I haven’t been drinking. Oh!” Cheerilee inhaled deeply while taking in the sight of the large cloud occupied by the handsome police officer and the wicker picnic basket by his side. “A picnic in the sky?”

“It’s perfectly safe, ma’am. We’ll just be a few hundred feet up. I picked a spot that has a beautiful view of the stars and all of Canterlot. There’s no better place to watch the city. That is, unless you’re afraid of heights, ma’am.”

“Heights? No, of course not.” Just falls, and the abrupt stop at the end.

Cheerilee eyed the thick cloud and prodded it with one uncertain hoof. It felt spongy, more like a giant marshmallow than a puff of vapor insufficient to hold up a rather healthy earth pony who had not been on civil speaking terms with her bathroom scale for several weeks.

“The cloud-walking spell seems to be holding. For now. Is that—” Cheerilee nosed open the picnic basket and took a deep sniff. “Eggplant Florentine with truffles, marinated with hydrangea petals in a light wine sauce. My favorite. How did you know?”

The police officer shrugged. “It was in your file. I picked dinner up from a cousin who works at Le Creux downtown, ma’am. Nothing alcoholic for me, ma’am. I’m still on duty.”

“Le Creux?” gasped Cheerilee. “Their waiting list is legendary. It can take years to get a table.”

“I wouldn’t know, ma’am,” said Officer Law. “If you would please step on board, my shift has already started, and I’d like to get to my post.”

Five minutes later

“Ma’am, you can stop checking the knot. We’re safely anchored.”

Cheerilee lifted her hooves off the knot and looked down off the edge of the cloud to the very, very, very distant tree where the other end of the cord was tied. “I’m just nervous, Officer Law. I’ve had a few bad experiences with being this high before. Not that I’m used to getting high. In the air, that is. Except college, but everypony there was—”

She closed her mouth with a snap and tried to look up at the somewhat nearer stars.

Don’t talk about the past. Think about the future. The past does not matter. Everything that happened before is gone, and nopony will ever remember it. Think only about this evening, and what that very handsome young stallion with the nice flanks over there has planned.

“It’s a very nice view,” she blurted out, yanking her gaze from his muscular rump to the rest of Canterlot, spread out below their dining location in the glitter of streetlights and windows.

“Thank you, ma’am.” The officer placed two tall candles on the tablecloth and lit them before returning to rummage in the picnic basket.

“I can’t help but notice that you can see all of the VanHoofer estate from here,” said Cheerilee, looking down into the broad fenced yard that surrounded the huge mansion and trying not to figure out how much expensive statuary she would break if anything fell off their dining cloud.

“Yes, ma’am. There’s been a spree of jewel robberies lately, and I’m on stakeout here tonight. It’s more efficient use of my time.” There was a clinking of plates and eating utensils as the nocturne officer found what he was looking for in the picnic basket and began to distribute dinner across the candlelit tablecloth.

For her part, Cheerilee just sat back on the cloud Cloud! I’m sitting on a cloud! and tried to relish the peaceful night under the stars with the handsome stallion.

It was quiet. It was romantic. It was perfect. It was starting to get ominous.

Food poisoning? Not from Le Creux. Nothing that a few more weeks on my diet won’t fix.

Migrating dragons? No, wrong season.

Tornadoes? No, only a few scattered clouds in the perfectly beautiful night sky.

Mass invasion by extradimensional beings hungry for the blood of schoolteachers? Well, maybe.

It was almost a relief when he finished setting their dinner out and opened up a set of thick folders. “Now, before we get started, I just want to get on the record that your name is Cheerilee, AKA Blackcherry Lee, also AKA The Magenta Mangler?”

“It was only for one time in college,” interrupted Cheerilee through a bite of eggplant. “There was a charity wrestling event, and the top prize was five hundred bits. So what else is in that file?”

“Just a few unexplained incidents that we wanted to get straightened out for your records this evening.” Those soft golden eyes looked up and Cheerilee could feel a little of her heart melt under their deceptively warm gaze. Or maybe it was the Parmesan cheese on the delicious eggplant settling into her arteries. “Nothing criminal, of course, other than the ridiculous allegation from Prince Blueblood that you turned into a fearsome monster and stole his enchanted rowboat.”

“Completely false,” she agreed, eyeing the thick folders and trying to calculate how many potential years of jail time they represented.

At least I’m getting a last meal. Ooo, he brought honey glazed baby carrots.

“And a criminal damage to property claim that apparently involved a robot?”

“Totally not my fault.” I blame these deviled eggs with pimentos and cheese, Officer Law. Let me see about their punishment.

“I see, ma’am. And the near drowning and hypothermia that landed a young stallion named Caramel into the Ponyville hospital?”

“Totally the Ponyville weather service’s fault,” she said, hoping he would not mention the restraining order Rainbow Dash had taken out against her as well as the tendency for her house to be randomly struck by lightning as of late.

“And an ongoing gang war between the Ducks and the Geese?”

“Isn’t that an alarm bell?” Cheerilee pointed down at the moonlit VanHoofer estate where two dark-clad ponies were slipping out of an open window, each holding a bag.

“Halt, criminal scum!” bellowed Officer Law, extending his wings with a solid ‘whump’ and springing off the cloud in a muscular leap that knocked over several of the dishes in their picnic/interrogation. “Stop right there! This is the police!”

“And this is the police evidence folder,” murmured Cheerilee, pulling out the first piece of paper and feeding it into the candle as she watched the officer dash away into the distance. “No stolen rowboat. No eyewitness reports of a rampaging robot.” She looked at the next sheet with a frown. “I thought this was supposed to have been expunged from my juvenile record when I turned eighteen. Oh, well. It’s gone now.”

She looked down at the moonlit estate where a dark winged shadow had just gone around a corner in hot pursuit of his prey. “Officer Law, did you want any more of the Eggplant Florentine during our little interrogation? No? Oh, well. More for me. Oh, and you brought spice bread. How thoughtful.”

The empty metal container that used to hold the main course turned out to make a fine fireplace, and Cheerilee occupied her time waiting for the return of her date by building a warm fire against the chill evening air. Some of the papers made fascinating reading while she ate dinner, but after tossing the final empty folder into the fire and raising the bottle of sparkling grape juice, she settled down comfortably in the cloud and looked back at the VanHoofer estate to give a salute to the absent police officer and his excellent taste in cuisine.

“To Officer Law. Thank you for giving me the best date I’ve had in weeks, even though you weren’t here to enjoy it.”

As she lifted the glass with the last of the grape juice, she noticed something puzzling about her surroundings. A very distinct shift of perspective in fact. She could still see the VanHoofer estate, but it was considerably farther away than she remembered. And shrinking.

The anchor rope was still tied to the cloud, but it only took a moment to pull up the slack rope and stare in disbelief at the broken branch at the other end. The gentle northern breeze had already carried her away from Canterlot and was pushing her over the forest below at about — she pulled a sextant and a map out of her purse and took a few sightings.

“It’s a good thing I’m prepared this time. Brisk breeze from the north, blowing at approximately…” She trailed off, scribbling numbers and measuring vectors on the map. “And they said Advanced Algebra and Trigonometry would never be useful. Let’s see, I need to know elevation, given an object falling—” She peeked over the edge of the cloud at the forest far, far below and released the empty pot that once held dinner, counting seconds until it vanished below. “Let’s just say 3,000 meters. Given that the cloudwalking spell will fail when the cloud passes over the Everfree Forest, I’ll need to reduce my terminal velocity from 54 m/s by boosting my drag coefficient…”

Rummaging around in her overstuffed purse, Cheerilee pulled out a copy of Introductory Physics and turned to the experiments at the back of the book. “Ok, class. Time to apply our theoretical knowledge to a real-world problem. Catapults. Trebuchets. Ah, here we go. Parachutes. The tablecloth will do for the chute and the anchor cord for the lines, so all I need to do is scale the parachute up to approximately—” Cheerilee’s voice got soft for a moment ”—kilograms and get it all put together before the cloudwalking spell expires or I get blown into the Everfree Forest.”

A familiar duck landed on her cloud in a little flurry of feathers, followed by a second, and then several more, all of whom eyed her with subdued malice.

“Or I get caught in a migration,” added Cheerilee, looking around the darkened sky as she heard the oncoming whisper of distant wingbeats.

“Piece of cake,” she added, taking the last piece of cake off the dessert tray and starting to tie the rope onto the tablecloth. She worked slowly at first while watching her hostile audience, then speeding up as the sound of wings grew louder and the cloud continued to float through the night air in the direction of home.

Date Forty-Nine - On The Ledge Of Disaster

Another bead of sweat rolled down the side of Tenderheart’s face before she wiped it away with the back of her hoof. “Wouldn’t you just know it? I’ve waited years for somepony to notice all of my hard work, and now that they finally have, I’d rather be anywhere else. This hotel has ruined the whole thing.”

Cheerilee fanned herself with her program and noticed with some dismay that the end she was holding was soaked through with perspiration. “Well, I don’t know about ruined—Oh, dear.”

In the row ahead, a pale stallion slid out of his chair in a dead faint. Several of the nearby nurses that made up the majority of the audience hurried over to him. Pushing stringy, sweaty manes from their eyes, the nurses checked his vitals and shot several unsanitary glances in the direction of the increasingly uncomfortable-looking hotel management.

Tenderheart fished out a bit of gauze from her pack and mopped her brow with it. “Cheerilee, you don’t have to suffer through this with me. If my mother wasn’t so excited to see my photo in the the paper, I’d just tell them to mail me the award. I could always meet you somewhere once this is all over with.”

Cheerilee chuckled, but the oppressively still and humid air sucked most of the humor out of it. “Suffer? Trust me, this—” Cheerilee waved a limp hoof at the lethargic crowd “—is a roaring success in my book.”

The nurse dropped her eyes for a moment, then inched her chair slightly closer to Cheerilee. “Well, um… good.” Tenderheart dropped her head into her hoof. “Celestia, that sounds lame. I… uh, well, I was just worried that you wouldn’t want to see—”

Taking Tenderheart’s hoof in her own, Cheerilee gave it a squeeze. “Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t hold this against you, plus, do you remember when I had to come in with those burns on my flank because that joker trapped us in a volcano?”

A small grin twitched across Tenderheart’s face, and she nodded.

“Yeah. Hotter than this.” Cheerilee twisted around to catch a glimpse of the faint circular scars the burning embers had left on her hindquarters. “Much hotter.”

Tenderheart leaned back in her chair, her head tilted up toward the ceiling in an attempt to keep the sweat from flowing into her eyes. “Heh. I guess that does put this into perspective. If they’d just get on with it already!” She frowned at the still-closed curtains that were pulled across the main stage. “This should have started an hour ago! Half the audience will have heat stroke by the time this is over with.”

“Look, I’m going to find us some water or something.” Willing herself into motion, Cheerilee struggled to her hooves. The effort left her panting.

“Don’t bother,” Tenderheart said, shaking her head. “I asked the manager when I went to the bathroom. All they have is that bucket in the corner. You could make tea in that water, it’s so hot.”

Cheerilee dropped the nurse a wink. “I’ve got a hunch. Don’t go anywhere.”

She tried to add a coquettish bounce to her trot, but the unrelenting heat weighed down Cheerilee’s hooves. She scowled at them as they barely managed a weary, stumbling shuffle down the aisle. Glancing back over her shoulder, Tenderheart was still staring at the ceiling and fanning herself with two programs. Well, at least she isn’t watching me. I’d hate for her to think I wasn’t interested. She was so kind during that hospital stay.

Craning her neck, Cheerilee spied one of the hotel’s waitstaff, and trudged over to him. “Can I have a word, please?”

The gangly young stallion’s eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape. “Uhhh…”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Cheerilee said, waving a hoof in the air between them. “I’m not here to gripe at you about the broken heater.”

“Uh, good.” The stallion’s voice cracked slightly as he spoke, and he stole a glance at the small index card he held in his hoof. “I-I mean… Address guest by name, or say ‘Sir’ or ‘Madam’, we are pleased that you found—err, are finding, the service here at—”

“Let’s cut through this, shall we?” Cheerilee cleared her throat and leaned in close. “Look, I worked in a hotel when I was in college, and the staff always had a few… things hidden around the place to make the shift easier.” She batted her eyelashes and stepped even closer, dropping her voice to a husky whisper. “We’re just two hot, sweaty mares who really want a cold drink. Think you can help us out?”

The stallion pulled at the perspiration-ringed collar of his once crisply pressed shirt. “Uh…”

Cheerilee allowed her lower lip tremble slightly. “Please?”

A heavy flush crept up the stallion’s neck and into his face. “That way,” he said, nodding his head down a hallway tucked behind a half-drawn curtain. “There’s a door. Go through it, but don’t tell anypony I told you, or I’ll get it!”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Cheerilee breathed, then gave the stallion a quick peck on the cheek. While he somehow turned a brighter shade of scarlet, she dragged herself back into motion. Clever design. I’d never have noticed this hallway on my own.

The passage wasn’t hidden, but it was so featurelessly designed that her eye tended to slide right past it without taking it in. Rows of nearly invisible doors lined the walls, and the dim light barely allowed her to see the turn at the end. No wonder they’ve hidden it down here.

Rounding the corner, she nearly ran muzzle-first into a large door. The slightest of breezes flowed around the edges, and Cheerilee slowly turned her head to allow one cheek to cool, then the other. Grinning, she turned the door’s handle and pushed.

Cheerilee gasped when Manehattan’s icy cold autumn air bit into her skin. The air wasn’t as clean as it was in Ponyville, and it had a certain urban tang, but at least it was freezing cold. Right now, cold was all that really mattered.

Halfway open, the door banged into something heavy on the other side. Sweet sisters, what now? Cheerilee poked her head around the door, and a slow grin spread across her face. Already in the smallish side, the balcony had little room for anything other than the massive water cooler that the door was now wedged firmly against. After squirming the rest of the way through the narrow opening, she placed a hoof on the tank, and her grin widened. It was ice cold.

Cheerilee opened the spigot and filled several of the cooler’s small paper cups. Shivering pleasantly, she drank one down in a single pull. “Oh, Sweet Celestia! That’s good!” After filling her cup again, she leaned against the cold metal door and let the next few sips of water slowly trickle down her throat. Cheerilee sighed and rested her head against the frigid metal door. “I needed that.”

Cheerilee drank the second cup, then rose to fill the cups again. As nice as it was out here, Tenderheart was waiting in that horrible, sweltering room. Carefully standing on her hind legs, she held the cups in one hoof and pulled the door handle.

It didn’t open. It didn’t even wiggle.

“No.” Cheerilee yanked on the door several times. “No! This is not happening!”

A gust of frigid air hit her, knocking over the cups she had balanced on her hoof and destroying the very last remnants of the meticulously styled mane curl that she’d spend so much time on. She swore as the cups spilled, then tumbled over the side of the balcony. Now her hoof was soaking wet and freezing.

In fact, every part of her was starting to feel pretty cold.

Cheerilee pounded on the door. “Can anypony hear me?” Pressing her ear to the cold metal, she frowned. The surrounding city was so loud that she couldn’t tell if anyone was responding. After a moment, she hammered at the door again. Still, no response.

Cheerilee glared at the door. “We’re going to play it that way, huh?” Turning, she leaned over the railing as far as she dared and squeezed down on it for all she was worth. Ten stories below, the street seemed unbelievably distant. Cheerilee swallowed hard and took aim over her shoulder. Well, Applejack does it all the time. How hard can it be to kick down a door? Even if it doesn’t open, somepony should hear me, at least. She cocked hind legs back and let them fly.

“Nonononono!” Cheerilee’s pelvis slammed into the railing, and she pitched forward. Without enough room to brace for what Applejack would call an ‘A Good, Ol’ Fashioned Applebuckin’ Kick’, she’d nearly sent herself flying off of the balcony. As she teetered, the ground below suddenly seemed to leap up at her. Cheerilee gripped the railing with every ounce of strength that she had. Inch by inch, she struggled to get her center of gravity back to the sane side of the precipice.

Cheerilee turned, then slid her back down the railing until she was sitting. Baring her teeth, she slammed her forehoof into the cold cement, then regretted it instantly as her hoof began to throb. “Tartarus!” She kicked at the door a few more times. No one answered, but it did make her feel a little better and warmed her momentarily before her teeth started chattering again. What now?

The inevitable answer floated up to the forefront of her consciousness.

“There’s going to be a ledge, isn’t there?” she said, climbing back to her hooves. “There’s always a ledge that ponies have to sidle along in those stupid movies where people get trapped outside of tall buildings.” Frowning, she looked to the left.

There was a ledge. A tiny, miniscule, totally-turning-a-corner-at-the-end ledge. On it sat a red jay and a pigeon, both looking equal parts scrawny and belligerent.

Cheerilee stared at the ledge for a moment. “REALLY?!” Stretching her neck out, she looked down again. The ground looked very far away. “Nu-uh! No way! Not going to happen!”

Cheerilee pounded on the door several more times, hammering at it with as much force as she could manage.

Nothing.

“It’s o-okay. S-s-somepony’s g-going to w-want water soon.” Cheerilee wrapped her legs tightly around herself and rubbed vigorously. The wind was gusting regularly now, and her mane streamed away behind her. She moved to the lee side of the cooler, but the freezing blast of air seemed to go out of its way to curl around the hulking device’s edges and dig into her skin. Cheerilee breathed into her hooves, but it did little to still their violent trembling.

Almost against her will, Cheerilee’s gazed traveled back to the ledge. It continued to seem alarmingly narrow. “Really?” she said in a voice that sounded very small and very alone. Swallowing hard, she tested the ledge’s sturdiness against her weight, then climbed onto it.

Several steps away, the birds glared at her, then scowled and hunkered down more firmly in place.

“You’re going to have to move,” she said to both the birds and her hooves.

The birds did not move. If remaining immobile could be considered an action, they did it emphatically.

Several more inching steps to the left, Cheerilee found herself surprised that she’d become obsessed with looking down, and then with not looking down. As she crept along the ledge, some primal part of her brain needed to know what it looked like, hanging out over the city like this. After the first glance brought on a heart-poundly terrifying bout of vertigo, she bit her lip hard and kept her eyes squarely focused at the building across from her, but the reality kept playing in her mind again and again.

She was a hundred feet in the air, balanced on nothing but a six-inch ledge while being severely eyeballed by surly birds.

Cheerilee’s knees felt rubbery. Her mouth dried up. Her tongue felt too large. The whipping wind seemed to work its way behind and under her, attempting to pry her from the building. The chilly air had turned her hooves numb, and—

To her right, the door opened, and the gangly young staffer in the limp dress shirt squeezed his way out. Whistling tunelessly, he kicked the door closed as he filled a bottle with water.

Cheerilee nearly fainted with relief, and then nearly fell as the adrenaline kicked in from her near faint. “Oh, th-thank Celestia! Let m-m-me in!”

The staffer turned and he blinked at her for several long seconds. “Why are you up there?”

Cheerilee began inching her way back. “B-b-because I was l-locked out!”

The staffer screwed his face up. “Huh?”

“The d-door was locked!”

“It is?”

Cheerilee grimaced and clutched the building as the wind buffeted her again. “What d-do you mean ‘is’?” she said carefully.

The staffer thought for a moment. “Well, I’ve never been out here before. I usually work on the third floor, but since they’re having that thing tonight, they needed more hooves up here. I only have keys for third floor stuff.”

“And th-they don’t lock the d-doors on the third f-floor?”

The staffer’s brow furrowed. “Um, yeah. They lock them.”

Cheerilee started to throw her hooves up, but gripped the wall as best she could when she wobbled. “Then w-why wouldn’t this d-door be locked, t-t-too?!”

The staffer bit his lip and thought hard. “Well, ’cause I don’t have the key for this one. It’s not fair to lock a door that the staff doesn’t have a key to.” An expression of horror slowly made its way across the stallion’s face. “They’re gonna count this as my break, aren’t they? It’s not fair to give me my break when I’m trapped outside!”

Cheerilee covered her eyes with a hoof and counted to ten. One day, in a sweet, sunny future, she would return and give this whole hotel a piece of her mind, but first she needed to get through this. “W-w-where does this ledge g-go?”

“That way,” the stallion said, pointing beyond her.

“I can s-see that!” Cheeriee hissed through a clenched jaw. “Does it g-go somewhere that I c-could get inside from?”

The staffer shrugged. “Just another balcony like this one. That door’ll be locked, too.”

Her shoulders slumped for a moment before Cheerilee stood ramrod straight again. The street below seemed to twist and writhe below her. Swallowing hard, she inched her way back the way she’d come. Beside her, the birds made dismissive shooing motions with their wings.

“Oh, sh-shut up!” she growled at them. “You g-guys are p-probably part d-d-duck, aren’t you?”

The red jay stuck the tip of its wing under its beak, then flicked it out at her. The pigeon strutted back and forth, daring her to approach.

“Hypothermia m-must be setting in,” Cheerilee said under her breath. “I’m arguing w-with birds.” Taking a few deep breaths, she fixed her gaze on the building across the street and willed her hooves into motion again. The minutes crawled by, but she finally made it to the balcony’s railing. There, her body finally threw in the towel and refused to step off of the ledge. Pursing her lips, she stared at the stallion, who was picking at a bit of acne. “Do you think you could lend me a hoof?”

The stallion’s face crinkled as he thought for a moment. “Uh, we’re not really supposed to do physical stuff with the guests. The manager says—”

“Forget about your stupid manager and help me!”

“Okay, okay! Jeez” the stallion said, jumping. “You don’t have to get all bossy.” Reaching up, he stretched out a hoof and steadied her while she hopped down from the ledge.

Cheerilee gripped the railing and gulped down a ragged gasps of air. “Oh, sweet Celestia, I’m never d-doing that again.”

“Gosh, it’s c-cold,” the stallion said while trying to work the final button on his collar through its hole. “It’s not f-fair being c-c-cold when I’m trapped outside on m-my break that I didn’t want yet.”

Cheerilee looked down at the patio. “Look, th-this is going to be w-weird, but we’re g-going to f-f-freeze out here if we don’t w-work together. What’s your n-name?”

The stallion scratched behind his ear. “Huh?”

“Your n-name!”

“Uh, it’s C-cobblestone, but—”

“Hi, Cobblestone, I’m Ch-cheerilee. Now, I want you t-to wrap yourself around me.”

The stallion’s face turned beet red. “Uh…”

“We n-n-need to our conserve body heat until s-somepony finds us.” Cheerilee stepped close, threading her hooves under his legs and around his back. “Just g-go with it.”

After several seconds, Cobblestone gently encircled her, and Cheerilee sighed. It was still bitterly cold, but manageable for the time being. She nestled her face into his neck. “At least y-you—”

“I should have known!”

Both Cheerilee and Cobblestone jumped, releasing each other reflexively.

Tenderheart’s chest rose and fell in ragged gasps, and unshed tears filled her eyes. “Here I was, all worried because you’d disappeared! I thought you were better than this, Cheerilee! ‘I’m going to go get us some water because I care about you so much!’ That was a good one!”

No, this isn’t what it looks like! We’re—”

“Oh, save it!” Tenderheart said, the words dripping with venom as she spit them out. “You must think I’m some kind of idiot! Well, don’t let me interrupt!”

Cheerilee dove for the handle. “No! Don’t—”

Her cheeks flaming and her lower lip quivering, Tenderheart slammed the door closed. Nearby, the birds let out a surprised squawk and took to the air.

“No!” Cheerilee pounded on the door. “It’s not like that!”

“So what n-now?” Cobblestone said, picking at his acne again.

“I don’t know!”

“J-jeez, lay off!” he replied, holding his hooves up between them. “I’m j-just asking.”

Cheerilee dropped her head into her hooves. “Sorry. I’m s-sorry. I d-don’t mean to t-t-take it out on you.”

Cobblestone exhaled out a steaming cloud. “Too b-bad the building’s n-not on fire.”

Cheerilee looked up, her face screwed up in confusion. “Um, I know it’s c-cold, but that wouldn’t be any b-better. It’d be w-worse, actually.”

“No, I m-mean we could use the f-fire escape then.”

Her templed began to throb. “What fire escape?”

Cobblestone rolled his eyes. “The one on th-the other balcony! Jeez, I thought you s-said you worked in a hotel.”

Cheerilee shot to her hooves. “Why didn’t you tell me there was a way down when I was halfway there?”

“Because the rules say we can only use the fire escape when the building’s on fire!” Cobblestone swept his hoof in the direction of the hotel’s vast wall. “I don’t see a fire anywhere.”

“Ugh! Wh-whatever!” Cheerilee swallowed hard and stepped up onto the ledge again. “I’ll l-let somepony know y-you’re out here.”

“Uh, okay,” Cobblestone bit his lip and looked down for a moment. “C-can you t-tell them it’s not f-fair that I’m on break? I don’t w-want this to be my b-break.”

“I’ll let them know.”

“And Cheerilee,” Cobblestone stepped forward, extending a tentative hoof toward her. “I just wanted to let you know…” He took a deep breath. “Um… that pigeon pooped in your mane when it flew off. It’s right there,” he continued, pointing several times, “and it kind of looks like an icicle.”

Cheerilee rolled her eyes and inched further along the ledge. “Thanks.”

Cobblestone took out his index card again. “Address guest by name, or say ‘Sir’ or ‘Madam’, we are pleased...”

Resting the back of her head against the cold, stone wall, Cheerilee stopped to whisper a prayer for patience and bravery, then edged around the corner.

Date Fifty - Tact and Harness (Guest Chapter by Skywriter)

"You know what you need?" said the periwinkle-blue pegasus mare working out on the wing machine next to Cheerilee's treadmill. "You need a little adventure, filly!"

Cheerilee adjusted the sweatband at her brow, which had started to itch terribly, and resumed her trot. "Well, there was that time with the volcano. And that time with the quicksand."

Cloudkicker chuckle-snorted and started in on another set of reps. "Not real adventure," she clarified. "Real fake adventure! A little pretend danger to get the blood pumping."

"What I need is a date that doesn't end in police intervention."

"Aim low, why don'tcha?"

"Cloudkicker," said Cheerilee, "why can't I ever, just once, have a nice, normal evening out with somepony?"

"This will be normal!" Cloudkicker protested. "It'll just be, y'know, sexy normal."

Cheerilee shot her companion an irritated glance. "This isn't going to be like that time you
suggested I try out ponyplay, right?"

~~~

"So," said the little green stallion, "I guess we're ponies, huh?"

"Certainly appears that way," agreed Cheerilee.

The two stared at one another. Elsewhere in the otherwise-featureless room, a clock ticked away.

Cheerilee smiled brightly, her eyes glassy. "I brought Scrabble!" she offered.

~~~

"Oh, mare," said Cloudkicker. "I had no idea. No, you need somepony who'll actually push your limits a little. Hey, didn't you say you were gonna be in Rainbow Falls for that National Equestrian Educators' Association conference in a couple?"

"Yep," agreed Cheerilee, huffing and puffing as the automated treadmill unexpectedly ramped up the difficulty level of her workout. "Nearly every teacher in the land will be attending. Celestia herself is giving the keynote address."

"Okay, great," said Cloudkicker, fumbling in her saddlebag for a pencil. "An old flame of mine is gonna be vacationing there too, right about that time. Her name's Midnight Rendezvous, and she's an expert at tack and harness. She comes on a little strong, and I think it intimidates ponies, but she's a good mare looking for long-term solutions, just like you. You'll be perfect together."

Cheerilee frowned. "Tack and, uh, harness?"

"You know. Bit-and-bridle stuff! It's out of this world, mare. One time she had me out on the longe and I swear I could see the whole universe after a while."

Cheerilee was not at all certain what being "on the longe" meant, but she figured that, at least for the moment, ignorance would have to be bliss. "But… she's nice, right?" she clarified. "We're not talking about a 'professional' here, right? Just another lonely heart, like me?"

"Absolutely, Cheers."

Cheerilee mulled it over as the treadmill continued to hum beneath her hooves.

"Well," she said, "I'll try anything once."

~~~

Rainbow Falls was beautiful at night.

For obvious reasons involving physics, ponies were quite used to seeing rainbows against a background of either gray clouds or blue sky. Rainbows set against the dark vault of Equestria's glittering night were new to Cheerilee. Yes, it was probably not wise to position a town directly beneath the runoff of a decommissioned prismatic reactor, and yes, there were probably long-term health consequences involved, but the pony pedagogue had to admit that the sight was a spectacular one.

Cheerilee tore her eyes away from the cascading cataracts of color and began scanning the rail depot for Cloudkicker's friend. A poorly-placed glass of seltzer and her own nervous sweat on the train ride here had rendered the graphite on the paper next to illegible, but she could clearly make out the words "flower-print luggage," and that would have to be good enough for now.

And then, success! Cheerilee's heart leapt into her throat as she spotted the bag in question from across the crowded rail platform. It sat at the hooves of a small, iron-hard palomino mare dressed in a proper violet business suit, accented with a pinkish turtleneck sweater and a pair of matching earrings. Her sapphire-blue eyes were hard, glinting, and deep-set, with a careworn expression. Stern professionalism flowed out from her like waves of heat rolling in from the desert. She was the very image of a dominating bit-and-bridle mistress. It was Midnight Rendezvous. It had to be.

A bit shyly, Cheerilee approached. "Um," she said. "Excuse me?"

"Hm, yes," said the professional-looking mare, in a disaffected Mid-Trotlantic accent. "You're the pony I'm supposed to meet, I presume?"

"Yes," said Cheerilee. "My name is—"

"Plenty of time for introductions later, I assure you," said Midnight Rendezvous, ushering her toward the line of waiting carriages. "The cocktail party has already begun, and we have just this instant swept past 'fashionably late' into 'unfashionably late.' We'll talk more in the carriage. Up-up you go!" The older mare lowered her head and practically shoved Cheerilee into one of the carriages with her skull.

Well, thought Cheerilee, settling into the cushioned seat, Cloudkicker did say she came on a bit strong. And though her long-suffering pride was taking a hit from being marehandled in this way, a tiny, twisted spring deep in Cheerilee's gut looked at everything that was going on and, improbably, relaxed. A prickle of warmth and of easing tension spread through the teacher's little pony body. It was nice, wasn't it? Cheerilee was an intellectual, never much of a "ponies pony." Certainly not one to take the lead in social situations. And yet, every day, it was she there in front of the class, steering and guiding an entire schoolhouse full of rambunctious fillies and colts. It was her duty. It was her calling. It was what her cutie mark was telling her.

But... still and all, it was nice to have somepony else have the lead for a while, wasn't it? To surrender—just for a moment—to another mare whose greatest satisfaction was in taking charge? To let somepony else bear the worry upon her back, leaving her light and foalish and carefree again?

This could work, thought Cheerilee. This really could work...

"Here's how this is going to go," said Midnight Rendezvous, settling into her own seat across from Cheerilee as the carriage lurched into motion. "You are going to accompany me to this tedious song-and-dance meet-and-greet with the Princess, whose acquaintance I am forced to briefly make each time we are in the same town lest it be perceived as a snub."

"That's right!" said Cheerilee. "She's in town for the NEEA conference! Rainbow Falls must be holding a reception for her."

"Mm, yes. Naturally, none of my concern. We have other business to attend to, as you well know, and it should go without saying that we should get on with said business as soon as equinely possible."

Cheerilee swallowed a nervous lump, her heart fluttering. She poked bashfully at the floorboards of the carriage with one hoof. "So, ah," she began, "what were you thinking of doing tonight? Afterwards, I mean?"

"An excellent question," said Midnight Rendezvous. "Once we quit this dreadful party, you are going to accompany me to your hotel room, whereupon you are going to show me just how welcoming you can be."

"To... to my hotel? Right away?"

"Of course!" blustered Midnight.

The schoolteacher's throat went dry. "Not... dinner? Or, I don't know, a drink or anything first?"

Midnight's eyes narrowed. "I'll have you know, Ms... whoever you are? (My people didn't give me your name, you see.)"

"Cheerilee," said Cheerilee. Midnight Rendezvous, among her other talents, was clearly a virtuosa of the conversational parenthesis.

"'Cheerilee.' I'll have you know, Miss Cheerilee, that I am a very busy mare, with little time or patience for tomfoalery. The quality of your accommodations is of paramount importance to me." She older mare arched one eyebrow. "One cannot help but wonder if there's some reason you're delaying my assessment of your quartering. Something to hide, eh?"

"Not at all, ma'am," stammered Cheerilee, whose mind now raced at the thought of her quartering being assessed. She wasn't quite sure what that entailed, but it certainly sounded racy. Something like being on the longe, perhaps?

"Good," the mistress sniffed. "There are many items on my to-do list, Miss Cheerilee. Many, many items."

"Yes, I'm sure there are," said Cheerilee. A moment of thought, and then, a bit impishly, she relocated herself across the carriage so that she was sitting beside Midnight Rendezvous. The schoolteacher gave a little smile and lay her head against Midnight's solidly-padded shoulder.

The older mare stiffened, her eyes going wide. Just a little startled, Cheerilee supposed. Just a little awkward. They really were kindred spirits after all.

"We're going to make each other so happy tonight," Cheerilee purred, rubbing her hoof up and down Midnight's thigh.

The older mare stared down at Cheerilee. Her left lower eyelid gave the faintest of flutters.

The carriage clattered on.

~~~

"Another horchata, Inspector General?"

Ms. Lovingcup Harshwhinny, chief inspector and de facto head of the International Equestria Games Committee, emitted a loud groan. "A thousand times yes, Chivalry," she said, nudging her empty glass in his direction. "In fact, best prepare them in a steady stream until I tell you otherwise. Interrupt your labors only to refresh my hoofbath." She splashed her hindhooves in the little tub of steaming water to make her referent absolutely clear. It never hurt to be explicit.

"Very good, Inspector General," said the bloodless young unicorn, who was in fact in the process of pouring another pitcher of hot water into the hoofbath as he spoke. "There is plenty of tigernut sedge in the larder and I just today restocked the cinnamon. A hard weekend in the field, then?"

"What were those Rainbow Falls dolts thinking?" exclaimed Ms. Harshwhinny, throwing her forehooves wide. "Somehow they got it into their heads that the best way to convince me of their welcoming nature was to send over a call-filly from an escort service or something. All making doe-eyes at me and pawing at me with her hoof all evening."

"Most unpleasant, Inspector General."

"Undoubtedly! It did not help, I suppose, that there was an open bar at the Princess's reception, and this 'Cheerilee' took the opportunity to get somewhat fortified. After about an hour of waiting in the Princess's reception line, I tried desperately to steer the topic back to Rainbow Falls's public transit system. I was hoping that the representative could respond to my grave concerns over her city's ability to handle large numbers of foreign visitors at once, but all she did was make a series of breathless squeaking noises. Eventually she told me that her 'body' was 'ready for' any foreign visitors I would care to subject her to, and that she would even be willing to go 'on the longe.' Do you have any idea what that means?"

"None at all," murmured Chivalry, preparing a hot towel.

"Well. It was at that point I was convinced that the young mare was mentally deficient, so I clearly explained to her that the IEGC took a very dim view toward her shenanigans, whereupon she grew visibly upset, going so far as accusing me of 'stringing her along' after she had 'opened her heart' to me. I believe her exact words were, 'Sweet Celestia, I could kill you!'"

"How very unprofessional."

Ms. Harshwhinny gave a little sniff. "Fortunately or unfortunately, the Princess had just reached our position in the reception line, and the Princess's cortege of unicorn guards translated her little oath as 'I could kill you, Sweet Celestia,' so they set their horns on electrostun and zapped the benighted creature into next Tuesday. I believe she's in jail facing charges of threatened regicide at the moment, and I was on the next train out of town. Yet another city earns the 'Most Unfavorable' rating. I swear to you, I don't think there's another mare out there so abused by bizarre circumstances as I am."

"Likely not, Inspector General."

"Chivalry," said Ms. Harshwhinny, "why can't I ever, just once, have a nice, normal site inspection visit?"

~~~

It was late, and Brass Tacks was worried.

The mousy dapple gray junior clerk from the Rainbow Falls City Council had been given the important responsibility of welcoming a high-ranking delegate from the IEGC for a preliminary site visit. Brass Tacks knew the city's bid to host the Equestria Games hinged on her performance, but she had neglected to account for the increased cart-traffic caused by the Princess's visit. Furthermore, the young mare had failed to obtain an actual description of the delegate in question. All she knew was that the Games Inspector was known to carry flower-print luggage.

Half an hour behind schedule, Brass Tacks eventually jostled her way onto the rail platform, scanning the crowds for her contact. Aha! Success! She spotted the bag in question at the hooves of a statuesque jet-black earth pony mare with her mane in a long braid, her flank emblazoned with the mark of a bullwhip. Bit of an odd talent for a site inspector, thought Brass Tacks, but she is the only pony around matching the description...

The unicorn gave her small gold-rimmed spectacles a quick cleaning with her telekinesis and approached the imposing figure of the Games Inspector. "Er, excuse me," she stammered. "So sorry about my lateness. My name is—"

The black mare lowered her head. The hot breath from her nostrils fogged Brass Tacks's glasses. "I know exactly who you are," she said, in a thick Pfrench accent.

"Well, great!" said Brass Tacks, as the inspector walked a lazy circle around her, a tiny enigmatic smile on her impeccably-clipped muzzle.

"You'll do. You'll do nicely."

"Um, okay!" said Brass Tacks, swallowing hard. "What shall we, ah, get to first?"

"First," said the Games Inspector, "you are going to show me just how welcoming you can be."

Date Fifty-One - The Laws of Attraction

Perfect Match smoothed the soft flannel blanket before patting the area just beside him. “It’s a little chilly, don’t you think?”

Cheerilee didn’t think it was chilly in the least. In fact, the thought of getting a little bit closer to this handsome pegasus stallion was getting her a little overheated. Breathe, Cheerilee. Play it cool. She blew her mane away from her eyes, then made a show of checking the blanket for any dirt before sitting.

“Wait until you see what I’ve brought for us,” Perfect said with a grin. “I really think you’ll enjoy some of this. Let’s see now…” He opened the large picnic basket and fished through it. “Ah! How about… smoked gouda with flax seeds and barley crackers?”

Cheerilee gasped. “Th-that’s my favorite! How did you know?”

Perfect tipped her a wink. “Just a hunch. You look like a gouda kinda girl. Hmmm. What else?” His ears perked up. “Oh, I hope you enjoy wine. This is a one of my favorites. It’s—”

“A Stonyfield Red Special Reserve!”

Perfect beamed. “You have excellent taste!”

“Well, actually, Berry does. We drink together.” Cheerilee winced. “I-I mean we go out together sometimes. For drinks!” Cheerilee’s face darkened as a slow flush crept up into her cheeks. “Not like that. She’s a marefriend. Th-that is, she’s a mare that’s a friend, not—”

“Shh.” Perfect gently pressed a feather-light hoof to her lips. It smelled vaguely of cedar and holiday spices, bringing with it visions of nights cuddling beside a crackling fire. “I understand what you mean, so relax. If anypony should be nervous, it’s me. The truth is...”

Cheerilee trembled as his hoof left her lips to cup her burning cheek.

“The truth is that I’m crazy about you, and I have been for a long, long time.”

Cheerilee swallowed hard, her eyes round as saucers. “R-really?”

“Since the moment I laid eyes on you.” Perfect edged closer, and his voice dropped down to a husky whisper. “It probably looks like I have it all. Wildly successful match and candle entrepreneur. A fifteen time winner of the Equestria Philanthropic Leader Award. Two Ph.Ds and ten Masters across various fields. Named “Best with Foals” by Mare Monthly.” Perfect looked away for a moment, and his eyes shimmered with welling tears. “But I don’t have a mare to share it all with.”

Cheerilee’s heart was pounding, and her hoof trembled as she laid it over his. “But… but you probably have hundreds of mares who’d—”

“Yes, but there’s only one that I want, you see.” Perfect’s crystal-blue eyes twinkled. “You don’t know what a chore it is, Cheerilee, to find a smart, caring mare who’s dedicated to art, education, and the future generations.” He shook his head. “I’d nearly given up… but then I came to Ponyville for that conference, and there you were.”

Cheerilee tried to respond, but her voice seemed to have disappeared. She settled from gripping his hoof more tightly.

A slow smile crept its way across Perfect’s ruggedly handsome face. His teeth were brilliantly white. “I could hardly believe my luck. Imagine, of all the seats to be assigned, mine was next to the most caring and clever mare I’d had the pleasure of speaking with in quite some time, and for her to be the recipient of the conference’s Leadership in Education Award. Why, I was enthralled!” Perfect leaned in, now only inches away. “And it didn’t hurt that you were the most gorgeous mare I’d ever seen.”

“We should probably spend some time together, then.” Cheerilee found her hoof in his mane, pulling him closer. “Lots and lots of time.”

“I think I’d like that…” Perfect’s lips brushed hers.

“AWAY, CRETIN!”

Forgotten picnic plates and glasses flew into the air as Cheerilee and Perfect scrambled away from each other. A cold wind sprang up, sweeping the basket away and wrapping the blanket around Perfect’s hooves just as he rose. With a grunt, he half-fell against a tree, then slid the rest of the way to the ground.

Landing a few yards away, Princess Luna’s eyes flashed when she glowered at the confused stallion. “Thou wouldst come into this realm—Our realm—seeking to prey upon a yearning heart?”

“I-I’m not sure—”

“SILENCE!” The word slammed into Perfect, pinning him against the tree. “We will not tolerate thy untoward advances. BEGONE!”

Cheerilee had just started to throw a restraining hoof up when a crackling beam of dark energy erupted from the princess’s horn and enveloped Perfect. For a moment, his face writhed and bulged into grotesque shapes before he melted away.

“It is done. Thou art safe once more, but—”

“What did you do to him?” Cheerilee tore through the tangled blanket before whirling on the princess. “You killed him!”

Her eyes confused, Luna brought a hoof to her chest and took a step back. “Killed? We have killed nothing. He was merely woken from this dreaming state.”

“This is a… dream?” Cheerilee’s clenched hoof wavered uncertainly between them for a moment before she hung her head with a sigh. “Of course it is. I should have known.” She pulled her head back up to scowl at the princess. “But it was a really good one!” she said, stomping a hoof.

“We were afraid of this, Cheerilee. Thy concupiscent heart has left thee vulnerable.” Luna pointed to the various picnic items, and one by one, they melted away. “It went unnoticed, then, that thy amorous companion failed to bring thee the requisite band of woven laurel branches and morning glories?”

“I, uh…” Cheerilee looked away from a moment, but the surrounding forest held no answers. “What?”

Princess Luna shook her head. “And the Melody of Joining played upon a hoof-carved fife of his own creation. Was it heard? Your sire and dam, were they spoken to in accordance with the law?

“Law?” Cheerilee brow furrowed. “Equestria doesn’t have any laws about dating.”

The princess curled her lip. “Nay, citizen, you err. Such laws were established long ago to keep in check unseemly coupling, but it appears that Our sister has been lax in their enforcement. We have spoken to her several times on the subject, but to no avail. The words ‘prudish’ and ‘antiquated’ were unfairly levied upon Us, but the law still stands. It ill-suits the crown to show such apathy toward their own mandates.”

Cheerilee stared at Princess Luna for a moment. “Are you telling me that it’s illegal to date in Equestria?”

“Far from it!” Luna’s eyes widened, and her wings fluttered. “It distresses Us mightily that thy reaction to this news is not a joyful one. The fifty-seven steps to legal courtship were designed to ensure harmonious relations. Is that not what you seek?”

“Fifty-seven steps?” Cheerilee replied, her eyes bulging. “Princess, forgive me for being blunt, but you’ll never enforce that! Times have changed since… since whenever that was. Nopony will follow that.”

“We’ve seen the evidence of thy words in Our governorship of the night.” Luna leaned against a tree and sighed. Standing this close to the princess, Cheerilee could see bags beneath her royal eyes. “Since discovering the rampant violations, We have been run ragged. Still, We persevere.” Princess Luna pursed her lips for a moment. “Our sister simply does not understand the full magnitude of the problem. Oh, the walks under the evening moon! The brazen hoof holding! Why, We have even seen necking and unchaperoned embracing in flower-adorned gazebos and upon secluded verandas! These things just do not happen in sunlight. If only Celestia would listen!”

Cheerilee’s head throbbed. I can’t even dream without getting a headache now?

“Please, citizen, tell Us why thy face adopts such a dire cast, and why thou rubbest thy temple so.” Princess Luna dropped her gaze to her hooves for a moment. “Our efforts have been met with some unhappiness, but it is for the good of all Equestria.”

Cheerilee sat, then took a deep breath. Her mane rippled as waves of power rolled off the nearby princess. “P-pardon me, Your Highness, but…” Cheerilee licked her lips. Her mouth was suddenly very dry. “But did you ask any of the couples that you, um, rescued if they wanted rescuing? Or their parents. Or, well… anypony?”

Princess Luna offered Cheerilee a small, grim frown. “Ask? The law is written!”

“But nopony knows about the law, and it’s so stran…”

The princess’s eyebrows descended slightly.

“I-I mean, it’s so old-fash…”

Luna’s jaw muscle twitched.

“What I mean is that every policy should be reviewed from time to time!” Cheerilee finished in a rush. She wiped away a light layer of sweat that had collected on her brow.

Princess Luna stared at her for a long moment, then nodded. “We are pleased thou art a teacher, for there is wisdom in thy words. It is apparent that Our customs have fallen from favor.”

“I’m so glad that you—”

Luna pulled herself up to her full height and tossed her head back. The air around her sizzled with arcane energy. “So We shall return to the castle and declare a new minister! One to travel the length and breadth of Equestria reminding all citizens of Our laws of courtship. The heart is bold, and left unchecked, emotions will run wild. Chaos reigned in Equestria before, and that is a darkness We would not have anypony suffer again!”

Cheerilee squeezed her eyes closed and slapped a hoof over the left side of her face. “But it was a dream! We can’t even dream about love?”

Princess Luna shook her head. “The world of dreams has many doors for entry and many paths upon which a sleeper might tread. Nightly, I observe countless—” The princess’s lips curled into a small moue “—distasteful fantasies played out in the minds of Equestrians. Those dreams are of little consequence, for they are fully within the mind of a single citizen. Thy dream, however, was of a different sort. When two hearts cry out for one another, they sometimes find each other in this realm. No longer is the dreaming purely innocent then. It is a true sharing, and if those two were to meet, the fires would burn brightly indeed! The blazing heat of such love would surely lead to ashen regret.”

Cheerilee shot to her hooves. “Are you saying that Perfect Match truly loves me, and you just woke him up?”

“Nay.” Luna patted Cheerilee on the head several times. “Perfect Match is but a construct of thy subconscious. There is no such pony, but the connection was true. Somepony with desire sent out a call, and thy yearning heart returned it. Thy mind just gave the emotion form.”

Stepping away, Princess Luna’s horn glowed, and she began slowly fading from view. “We must depart to other dreams, Cheerilee, We cherish thy wisdom and wish for thee a prolonged courtship someday.”

Cheerilee charged forward “Wait!”

Waving, Luna disappeared from view.

“Who is it? Who is—”

~~~

“—my true love?”

Gasping, Cheerilee bolted upright in her bed. Her hooves were still shaking while she fumbled her way free through the tangled mess her sheets had become. According to the small alarm clock she kept on her nightstand, it was two-thirty in the morning.

Right. No time to waste! Cheerilee swung her legs off the end of the bed, then trotted to her writing desk. After lighting the lantern hanging above, she fished out a piece of parchment and her inkwell. I hate to complain, but Celestia really has to do something about this one. Time to call in that favor Twilight keeps trying to push on me. Cheerilee hunched over the desk, then stabbed her quill into the inkwell in the automatic strokes of a pony who has graded thousands of papers. So, what’s the best way to report a princess diplomatically?

Touching quill to parchment, Cheerilee meant to write a letter “D”, but instead watched as her hoof made a long, double-curved line, then another that mirrored the first. She stared down at the large heart that now occupied the majority of the space. Slowly, her lips twitched up into a spreading grin.

“Cheerilee plus…” she said while writing inside of the heart. For a moment, the quill hovered over that empty space before three drops of ink fell from it into an almost perfect row.

“You’re out there,” she whispered at the heart. It felt odd not being angry, but for the time being, it was enough.

Date Fifty-Two - Takes A Licking...

Cheerilee scooched further left on the sofa, but the dog followed. Frowning, she lifted her right foreleg out of reach.

The dog tilted its head to the side before issuing a series of questioning whines. Inching closer, he stared at Cheerilee with wide, pleading eyes.

“Um…” Cheerilee said.

The dog sprang forward. Unable to reach her hoof, he settled for licking her side.

Cheerilee set her hoof against the dog’s head and pushed him away, but his tongue just set to work on her hoof again.

Ripple grinned across the coffee table. “Oh, don’t mind Fizzle. He’s just showing you that he likes you.” The heather-grey mare leaned over the table and scruffed her dog’s head. “Awen’t you? Awen’t you, Fizzle-Wizzle? Who’s showing Cheewilee some love?”

Fizzle’s tail thumped out a joyful rhythm on the sofa’s cushions. Taking full advantage of Cheerilee’s divided attention, he ducked his head under her hoof and edged past it to lick further up her leg.

“Wow! He’s really into you!” Ripple said with a laugh. She pushed the small tray that sat on the coffee table further toward Cheerilee. “Cookie?”

Cheerilee shuddered at the thought of eating anything right now. The dog’s tongue had already completely coated her right leg in pungent saliva from hoof to elbow. “Um, no thanks. I don’t mean to be a bother, but shouldn’t we get going?”

“Oh, silly me.” Ripple lightly tapped herself a few times on the forehead. “I forgot to tell you. The restaurant’s reservation list was full up. I thought we’d maybe just have a nice night here.”

Cheerilee scooped up one of the velveted throw cushions and set it between herself and the madly affectionate dog. “Okay, but could we—oof!” She coughed when the dog leapt over the pillow-wall she’d set up and slammed into her lap. Wiggling with unsuppressed happiness, he set both paws on her shoulders and attacked her cheeks.

“What a good boy!” Ripple clapped her hooves. “Oh, who’s making ponies feel welcome? That’s you! It’s you! Good boy!”

Craning her head as far away as she could manage, Cheerilee gently removed the dog from her lap and deposited him back onto the floor. Fizzle scrambled back and forth, searching for an opening, but Cheerilee kept her hind hoof squarely between them. “I-I think it might be best if we went out.”

Ripple’s grin slowly fell away. “But… but I’ve been cooking for hours. I made us some fresh bread, and I’ve got a ratatouille going.” She dropped her eyes into her lap, where her hooves were tightly pressed together. “I knew it. You’re not really into mares, are you? I was afraid you were just being nice at that social.”

“No, it’s not that,” Cheerilee said with an encouraging smile, “and your kitchen smells incredible, but—ahh!”

Sensing Cheerilee’s momentary distraction, Fizzle had snuck around the sofa’s corner, and now leapt over the arm and into Cheerilee’s lap once more. He leaned into her, pinning Cheerilee as best he could and set to work licking the entirety of her left foreleg.

Ripple covered her heart with her hooves. “Oh, sweet Celestia, protect our doggies, always. They always know how to make a sad pony feel better.”

Cheerilee was halfway through a heavy sigh when Fizzle snuck a lightning fast lick across her muzzle. The distinctive odor of drying dog saliva filled her nostrils. “No, it’s not that. I was really enjoying our conversation last week.” Frowning at the doe-eyed dog, Cheerilee pushed him off her lap. “I-I just feel like it’s just a little, um...distracting here.”

Ripple’s tilted her head slightly to the side and blinked several times. “Huh?”

“Look, you seem like a nice mare, and I’d like to get to know you better.” Cheerilee pressed down on Fizzle more firmly when he threatened to roll out from beneath her restraining hoof, half-burying him in the sofa’s plush cushions. “Maybe someplace, you know, with just the two of us?” She nodded her head toward at the dog a few times and hoped that the message was finally clear.

Ripple’s grin returned, and she let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, is that what this is all about? Don’t you worry one little bit! Fizzle won’t tell anypony your secrets, so talk away. He’s a good doggie. Awen’t you, Fizzie? Who’s the best doggie? Fizzie’s the bestest doggie-woggie!”

“No! I mean—” Cheerilee closed her eyes and counted silently to ten before continuing. “I think you’re cute, and you’re obviously a talented cook, but I’m completely coated in dog slobber! Could we, I don’t know, put Fizzle in the backyard for an hour or two and have a normal conversation?”

The color drained from Ripple’s face for a moment, then returned as an angry flush. “Put him outside? All by himself? What are you, some kind of animal hater? You want to put my poor little doggie outside in the cold?”

“Cold? It’s Aug—UGH!”

When Cheerilee lifted her hoof to point out the window, Fizzle seized his opportunity. Leaping into her lap again, his tongue snapped out with snake-like precision to lick the roof of Cheerilee’s open mouth. He let out a surprised squeak when Cheerilee hopped off the couch, gagging and sputtering. Now out of a lap, he paced the floor before her with eyes of liquid longing.

Ripple crossed her legs tightly across her chest, then tossed her head with a judgmental sniff. “See? He loves you, and you want to put him outside! I should have listened to Fluttershy when she told me that she didn’t think you liked animals! I said that you seemed way too nice for that, but that’s what I g-get for being s-so open and h-hopeful.” Ripple dabbed at her eye with one of the lacy napkins that sat beside the cookies. “I’ll have you know that I s-stood in line for three hours to g-get one of Princess Luna's new d-dating permits, and th-this is what I get for it!”

“Fluttershy said— Why that— I like animals just fine when they aren’t licking my skin off or nearly crushing my friend to—!” Cheerilee snapped her jaw closed and dropped her gaze for a moment before sighing. “Ripple, can we—”

Fizzle backed away a few stepped, then sprang forward again, but encounters with vicious ducks and love-crazed robots had honed Cheerilee’s twitch reflexes to a fine edge. Snatching up a pillow, she deflected the desperate dog away. Ripple’s breath was momentarily knocked out of her when Fizzle crashed into her lap.

“Out.” Ripple growled, pointing to the door.

“Ripple—”

“Out!”

“Can we please talk about this?”

Ripple locked eyes with Cheerilee and held the dog up between them. “You kiss his nose, and you apologize.” Her eyes narrowed. “Like you mean it. Or was Fluttershy right about you?”

Cheerilee stared at the long line of wiggling, glistening drool that hung from Fizzle’s mouth. It swung, pendulum-like, refusing to break, even at its unlikely length. The dog’s madly wagging tail beat against Ripple’s face, but she gave no indication of noticing. Her burning eyes were locked onto Cheerilee.

“Well?” Ripple said, shaking the dog slightly and sending the line of drool swinging back and forth dangerously close to Cheerilee’s hooves.

Cheerilee opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch. “I hear those permits are good for a week. Maybe you should just cross me out and take Fizzle instead.” Stepping outside, Cheerilee turned to close the door, but caught Ripple’s slightly confused and somewhat hurt expression. “I can’t possibly compete with such a good doggie. I know when I’m licked.”

Author's Note

This is actually something of a true story. When my mom was a little girl, she went over to a family friend's house. Once there, she was relentlessly licked by their dog. She said she basically couldn't get away from it, and everyone else seemed to think it was adorable. It just popped into my head the other day, and I figured it would make for a pretty terrible date.

Date Fifty-Three - Join the Horde!

Apple Bloom’s lip curled into a tiny snarl, and she pawed at the cobblestone street with her hoof. “Back off! Don’t y’all come no closer than that!”

A few yards away, Lily and Meadowsweet blinked several times before crossing to the other side of the road. They shot bewildered glances over their shoulders as they trotted away.

“That’s right! You just keep walkin’!” Apple Bloom bellowed after them, making sure to catch as many eyes as she could in the process. Ponyville’s market district was still full of last minute shoppers, and each one carried with them the potential for disaster.

Red-faced, Caramel’s lips twitched into what was probably an attempt at a rueful grin. When Cheerilee widened her eyes and took a careful step away, he turned the failed expression onto his cousin instead. “Applejack—”

“Yeah, I’m on it.” Applejack bit down on Apple Bloom’s tail and yanked her back a few steps. “Simmer down, sis. We’re just here to run interference, not scare ponies into next Tuesday.”

Caramel squeezed his eyes closed and sighed. “I already told you! We don’t need an escort! We’re perfectly—”

“Now, now, Caramel, don’t be like that,” Granny Smith said from somewhere behind them. Even at the agonizingly slow pace they’d adopted for her, she was constantly falling behind. What was normally a ten minute walk through Ponyville to the lake had taken nearly forty-five, and they were only halfway there. “Didn’t I hear you belly-achin’ half the day away yesterday about your lonely heart? If you’re so fixed on heatin’ things up with this here filly, then help from your kin’s the surest way.”

Cheerilee’s mouth curled up into the smallest of smirks. “‘Heating things up with this here filly’, huh?”

Caramel swallowed, his cheeks now flaming red. “Well… I-I didn’t exactly say it like—”

“Oh, don’t be so bashful, cuz!” Applejack winked at him, then bumped him hard with her hip. When he stumbled up against Cheerilee, Applejack pinned him in on the other side. “You’re always sayin’ that you ain’t got no experience with mares, so—”

“I didn’t say no experience!” Caramel shot back with a glare. “I said—”

Applejack raised her voice. “—so the family’s here to make sure things runs real smooth for the two of you tonight.”

Cheerilee jumped when Big Mac said “Eeyup” from somewhere off in the shadows. Applejack had sent him east to scout for potential danger when they’d crossed into town, and Cheerilee had completely forgotten he was around.

Caramel groaned. “This can’t be happening. It’s got to be a nightmare.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Cheerilee said quietly, elbowing Caramel in the ribs. “It’s kind of cute in a clingy, slightly crazy sort of way.”

“That’s right! You two get to talkin’!” Granny Smith trotted marginally faster in a vain attempt to catch up. Failing, she compensated for the distance by yelling at full volume. “Now, Caramel, try puttin’ your hoof ’round her shoulders, and if’n she’s inclined, maybe grab a little bit more if you can get it! Not too fast, though! You can’t put a bun in the oven ’til you heat it up nice and proper first!”

Cheerilee stiffened for a moment. “Okay, maybe less cute now.” They were just passing Berry Punch, who had been in the process of waving, but was now so overcome with giggles that she fell into a nearby bush. Cheerilee shot the bush a dirty glance as it roared with laughter.

“Aww, don’t mind Granny, you two. She’s from a different time.” Applejack rummaged in her pack for a moment, then pulled out a small basket. Thrusting the handle into Caramel’s mouth, she pulled several items out and held them up for Cheerilee to see. “I packed y’all some snacks, and this here’s a book Twilight sent along. Your Research Facility or Mine: Ninety-Nine Scientifically Evaluated Conversation Starters for Potential Couples.” She rolled her eyes. “That pony... Anyway, Caramel, I also got you some flowers for you to give to Cheerilee. Oh, guess I shoulda mentioned those earlier. Well, here. Better late than never, I guess.”

“Thanks…” Cheerilee said as Applejack dropped the bouquet into her hoof.

Digging further, Applejack pulled out a small bag from Carousel Boutique. “And here we got edible socks, you know, if things are lookin’ that way. Rarity’s tryin’ some new—”

“Why would anypony wanna eat socks?” Apple Bloom said. Her left eyebrow arched, she looked back and forth between her sister, Caramel and Cheerilee, all of whom seemed to find Ponyville’s architecture particularly interesting all of a sudden.

“Uh… Well, I’ll tell you later, Apple Bloom,” Applejack said after an uncomfortable silence. “Anyway, if y’all need anythin’—”

“What do they taste like? Can I try ’em?” Apple Bloom leapt for the bag, but her sister pulled it away. “C’mon!”

“No!” Applejack set a hoof against her sister’s forehead and pushed. Apple Bloom’s hooves scrambled across the cobblestones as she fought to advance. “Quit it! Ain’t you supposed to be clearin’ the way, little seed?”

“Oh yeah!” Whirling, the filly snatched up a stick and charged a stallion sitting on a nearby park bench. “Hey, you! What’re you tryin’ to pull sittin’ there like that?”

Applejack smiled while the wide-eyed stallion scrambled away. “Well, it ain’t exactly subtle, but I reckon it gets the job done.”

“Eeyup.” Big Mac bounded into the light for a moment and scanned the area with narrowed eyes before leaping into a dark alley on the other side of the street. Cheerilee winced when he apparently slammed headfirst into several trash cans. Two metal lids rolled into the road to twist in lazy circles before clattering to the ground, and an ill-tempered cat shot by, hissing back the way he’d come as he ran past them.

Caramel sighed again, this time much more heavily. “Sorry about this. I’ve been trying to talk them out of this all day. I, um… I finally just told them that they could walk us to the park, but they’d have to leave after that, so it’ll just be a little while—”

“That’s right! Caramel here’s been fussin’ somethin’ fierce since noon-time yesterday.” Granny Smith held a hoof up after them, and they stopped to let her catch up. Again. “In the end, he said he wished he’d never dropped by to talk, but that darned fool says the most darned foolish things sometimes.” She fixed him with a single beady eye. “A stallion gets a certain swagger when some mare’s got him hot to trot. In my day, we called it the Foal Stroll, and Caramel’s been strollin’ for months now.” She tipped the crimson-cheeked Caramel a wink. “Don’t you fret none, young’un. Your family approves of Miss Cheerilee, so we’re stickin’ to you like glue ’til the deed’s done!”

A small crease appeared between Cheerilee’s eyes, and she frowned over her shoulder. “Look, we’ve seen each other a few times, but Caramel and I aren’t quite—”

Applejack pushed her hat back from her eyes. “Granny, don’t you think you’re layin’ it on kinda thick? There’s plenty of time for that later. Tonight’s about romance, so let’s let the lovebirds fly a little.”

“Yes. Alone.” Caramel said through clenched teeth. “See? There’s the lake. We’re here safe and sound. You can all go home now.”

Applejack sat and crossed her hooves over her chest while squinting suspiciously out at the shimmering water. “Right, so about this lake thing. The family had a little talk this mornin’, and we’re not so sure it’s a good idea. Somepony might fall in the water and catch a cold, or… or maybe trip on somethin’ since it’s gettin’ pretty dark.” She leapt back to her hooves and leaned in with a grin. “So why don’t y’all come back to the farmhouse? We got loads of games, good food, better company,” Applejack waggled her eyebrows, “and hay to roll in, if you know what I mean…”

“I wanna roll in the hay!” Apple Bloom said.

“Uh… why don’t you just jump in the hay, sis?”

Apple Bloom squinted up at her sister. “Huh? What’s the difference? I mean, of course I’m gonna jump in it first, but then—”

Applejack threw a hoof over Apple Bloom’s mouth. “So what do y’all say?”

Cheerilee squeezed the bridge of her nose as the Apple family leaned in, their smiles wide and eager. “I... appreciate that you all apparently, uh, really care about Caramel’s love life, but we’d really just like a little privacy.”

Caramel nodded vigorously.

“Thought y’all might be like that,” Applejack said with a disappointed sigh. “All right, y’all, you heard ’em. We gotta form a perimeter. Nopony gets through.”

Big Mac trotted up, a banana peel and what appeared to be tomato sauce stuck in his mane. “Eeyup!”

The four apples each took two steps in a different cardinal direction, then turned right. Faces resolute, they marched in a circle around the pair.

Cheerilee set her hooves on her hips. “This isn’t privacy!”

“Don’t you fret none. We’re all kin here.” Granny Smith’s eyes traveled up and down Cheerilee. “Well, soon enough, anyway.”

Cheerilee started when Caramel cupped her ear with his hoof. “I think we’re going to have to run for it,” he whispered. “They’re, um, well… they’re pretty serious about family.”

“You’ll probably find this surprising, but I picked up that somehow.” Cheerilee’s eyes tracked the Apples as they marched by. “So what do you think? Different directions, then meet up at my place?”

Caramel nodded. “On three. One. Two. Thr—oof!”

As Caramel leapt, Big Mac’s unerring hoof swatted him out of the air. Across the circle, Applejack lassoed Cheerilee’s leg and yanked her back. The pair collided, falling into each other in a tangle of legs.

“Hoo-ey! Y’all act like we ain’t never herded before!” Applejack grinned while she looped her rope again. “Critters get this twitchy look about ’em when they’re thinkin’ about runnin’, and you two are twitchin’ like crazy.”

Caramel slapped a hoof over his face. “But—”

“No buts!” Granny Smith stomped a hoof. “Get to kissin’ so we can all go home!”

Caramel cleared his throat. “Okay, that’s—gmrf!”

Applejack grabbed Caramel’s cheeks and steered his head toward Cheerilee. “He’s kinda shy. You might have to make the first move. I’ll just hold him here for you.”

“Here, let me.” Cheerilee took Caramel’s face in her hooves and pulled him close. All around her, the Apple family’s eyes widened. Turning abruptly, Cheerilee squinted at Apple Bloom flank. “Hey, is that a cutie mark?”

Apple Bloom leapt into the air, spinning so quickly that twisted into a double flip. “What? Where? What is it?”

Cheerilee snatched up Caramel’s hoof and yanked him through the opening that the distracted filly had left. “Run!”

“Hey, y’all get back here and make out!” Applejack said, fumbling for her lasso. “Don’t make me hogtie you!”

“My... place?” Cheerilee said to Caramel between ragged gasps.

Sucking in huge gulps of air, Caramel could only nod.

“Then you… go… left.”

As Caramel broke away and disappeared off into the night, Cheerilee dove into a bush and curled into the tightest ball she could manage. Seconds later, Big Mac thundered by, his face set into a deep scowl. Cheerilee waited for his hooffalls to fade away before creeping out from cover.

Applejack casually stepped out from behind a tree, swinging her lasso in slow, lazy circles. “Goin’ somewhere?”

Cheerilee screamed and leapt into air, her mane bristling out in all directions. She hit the ground running, and just managed to duck the lasso’s noose when Applejack fired it out at her.

“Granny Smith and Apple Bloom already rounded up Caramel back up, so he’ll be back here in two shakes. You’re gonna love bein’ part of the Apple family, cousin! Can I call you ‘cousin’?” Lasso whirling overhead, Applejack surged after Cheerilee. “Don’t you want a foal or twelve? I can show you how to buck apples!”

Teeth bared, Cheerilee pulled back a stout branch of a nearby tree, then released it.

“You just wait and see! The Apple family’s the best—oof!”

Cheerilee fixed her eyes onto the warm glow of Ponyville and tried to remember everything that her old track coach had taught her. They say the Apple doesn’t fall fall from the tree, but hopefully that one will be laying nice and close for the next few minutes.

Date Fifty-Four - Love's The Best Policy

The faded Maribbean Islands calendar above Stormy Skies’ scarred office desk had been stuck on April for the last several years. It hung from a single push pin, and the corners of its pages curled toward the floor. If anypony had thought to look at it recently, they might have seen that the push pin had been slowly sliding out of the wall.

But nopony had, so it came as somewhat of a shock when it fell into the firm’s fishtank. Not quite as shocking as the force with which their client had slammed their front door, but shocking all the same.

“Oh, that’s just great.” Balance Sheet rolled up the sleeve of his button up dress shirt and plunged his hoof in after the soggy calendar. Three wary goldfish peeked out from their rooms in a small underwater castle. “Like things aren’t bad enough.”

Stormy’s ancient rolling chair let out a shrill squeak as he leaned back in it. “Oh, she’ll be alright once she cools down.”

“She nearly broke our door.”

“Eh, she’s temperamental,” Stormy replied with a shrug. “Lots of mares are that way.”

Balance dropped the calendar into a wastepaper basket and scanned the sparsely furnished office for something resembling a towel. With nothing available, he sighed and wiped his hoof on his shirt. “Well, I hope they don’t have dating insurance, too, or we’ll be in deeper water than we already are!”

Stormy yawned and stretched his wings. “C’mon. It was a million to one odds. Probably good to get it out of the way. From here on out, it’s nothing but smooth sailing for this firm.”

“Smooth sailing? Stormy, this ship is sinking, and I’m the only one with a bailing pail!” Balance pulled a green binder from a nearby shelf and slammed it down in front of the pegasus. “That mare had a five thousand bit policy!” he said, pointing to an entry.

The stallions stared at each other for a long moment.

“And?” Stormy finally said.

Balance’s angry brows knotted together. “And we don’t have five thousand bits! We don’t even have five bits! Allow me to put it into laypony’s terms: We’re broke!”

Stormy waved his hoof. “She’s got to have the right paperwork first. Until then, she’s just a slightly dissatisfied policyholder.”

Balance Sheet rolled his eyes, then collapsed back into his chair. On the desk in front of him, an ever-growing tower of papers sat in his “To Be Processed” box. Just looking at them made his pulse rate spike. “It was a public display of unsanctioned magic, Stormy. Emphasis on public. There are going to be plenty of witnesses!”

“Well, until they come forth, that’s a problem for another day!” Stormy Skies opened a desk drawer and fished through it. “Hmm. Thought I had half a sandwich in here somewhere. Maybe we should get lunch. I’m starving. You hungry?”

“No, I’m not hungry! I’m about to start hyperventilating!”

“Jeez, calm down,” Stormy said, throwing Balance his stress ball. “All that tension is bad for your heart.”

“Bad for my—“ Balance glared at his partner, hardly noticing that he’d caught the stress ball and was now squeezing it for all it was worth. “You know what’s really bad for me? Terrible financial decisions! Why do we even offer dating insurance?”

“That was Hard Sell’s idea. I just ran with it.”

Balance Sheet rested his aching head on his hoof for a moment. “Why are you listening to business advice from Selly, Stormy? He didn’t win us any clients for three of his three-and-a-half years.”

“I know,” Stormy said, nodding. “I really felt for the guy, you know? He was in a rough patch, but he was really excited about getting his new product out there. Thought he could get some bites, and you can’t argue with results.”

“You call going out of business ‘results’?”

Stormy sighed and hopped off of his chair. Trotting across the room, he moved in behind Balance to massage his shoulders. “Look, trust me. It’s all going to be okay. Doesn’t it always work out?”

“A mob chased us out of Las Pegasus! And Fillydelphia!”

“And we got away! Both times!” Stormy craned his neck over his partner's shoulder to offer him his most winning grin. “That kind of thing doesn’t just happen. It’s a sign.”

Balance shrugged off Stormy’s hooves. “Well, you know what does just happen? Magical accidents! And we apparently insure against them if they occur on a date!”

“I told you, it’s a one in a million chance!” Stormy sat on Balance’s desk and leaned down to look his partner in the eyes. The enormous stack of papers wobbled threateningly. “You’ve got to be bold in this business, Bal.”

“After that mare comes back with the official report from the authorities, We aren’t going to be anything in this business!” Balance steadied his papers and slid the tray carefully away from Stormy’s twitching wings. “A rampaging monster destroyed half of Ponyville! Do you have any idea how many bits we’ve paid out in property insurance already? We can’t afford any more?”

Stormy arched an eyebrow. “Are you seriously telling me that these ponies all signed up for the optional Rampage coverage, because otherwise—”

“Yes, that’s what I’m telling you!” Balance said, leaping up from his chair. “Everypony in this town seems to think disaster is just around the corner for some reason!”

“Right! That’s what made this a great spot for insurance sales, if I do say so myself.” Stormy polished one periwinkle hoof against his chest. “They’re just begging to give those bits away!”

Balance threw a hoof out to the massive pile of paper on his desk. “Except that in this town, disaster is just around the corner! Something’s always happening! Now, on top of everything else, we have a mare whose date was transmogrified into a three story tentacle slime monster because some apprentice unicorn got a little overconfident with an unregistered tome! If the princess hadn’t have been in town visiting her student, the whole place would probably have been levelled!”

“Don’t you worry.” Stormy patted Balance on the head. “I’ve got Selly in the stacks right now looking for loopholes. We’re going to come out of this smelling like a rose.”

“Let me back up and go over this again, Stormy,” Balance said through gritted teeth. “Princess Celestia, with the help of her protege and her protege's friends, just saved the town from certain destruction. They got medals. Ponies were cheering.”

Stormy blinked. “Where are you going with this?”

“We can’t finesse this one!” A vein throbbed on Balance Sheet's forehead. “How’s it going to look when the town’s heroes trot up to the princess and tell her that we aren’t paying up? Half of them are policyholders! Why, that high-end boutique alone—”

The door at the rear of the office banged open, and through it stepped a rumpled, baggy-eyed unicorn.

Stormy rubbed his hooves together. “So, what’d you find?”

“We’re boned,” Hard Sell said. Without breaking his stride, he plucked his hat from a wall hook and stepped out the opposite door. “I quit.”

Stormy stared after him, then swallowed loudly. “Um…”

The front door flew open again. Framed by the construction site across the street, Cheerilee stood, teeth bared. “Here!” she said, waving an officially-stamped piece of parchment. “Here’s your proof that some kind of disaster happened!”

“Are you sure—“ Stormy winced at the hammering that began across the street. He cleared his throat and raised his voice. “Are you sure that what you were on would be classified as a date and not a standard social outing?”

“Yes!” Cheerilee pulled out a second document from her saddlebag. “I stood in line for five hours to get one of Princess Luna’s new permits just so I could go out last night!”

Stormy jumped a little when Balance dropped his head to the desk with a loud thud. The towering stack of papers teetered for a moment, then slowly tipped over the edge and dropped onto the floor. The breeze from the open door scattered them to the office's four corners. Head in his hooves, Balance let out a pained groan.

“Don’t mind him,” Stormy said with a wide grin. “He has a headache. Could I see that permit?”

Jaw tightly set, Cheerilee thrust it into his face.

“Ah, yes. I, um... I see.” A bead of sweat rolled down the side of Stormy’s face. “Uh, well, let me just go and get the proper form for you to fill out. I think we keep them in the, um, back room.” Stormy slid off the desk. “Say, Bal, mind giving me a hoof in there?”

Balanced lifted his head just enough to roll one eye over to where Stormy fidgeted. “Huh?”

“You know, we keep those forms in that cabinet by the rear door, and, um, I have trouble getting it open sometimes.”

Cheerilee’s eyes narrowed. “Did you know that I’m close, personal friends with Twilight Sparkle? She was a little bit puzzled when I asked if she could wait for me in the alleyway behind your business, but she’s a good sport. Be a shame if you ran into her and made her mad, don’t you think?”

Stormy swallowed again, his perspiration rolling more freely down his face. “Err, yes, but I don’t think that’s likely to happen because I’ve just remember that those forms are in my desk drawer. I-If you wouldn’t mind just taking a seat, we can get started on your claim. Now, how much did you say your policy was for?”

Balance sighed and pulled open up the third drawer on his desk. It was his special drawer. The one he kept stocked in case of emergency, and it was opening with alarming frequency these days. With a practiced ease that he’d increasingly grown to regret, he fished out a bottle of hard cider, one semi-clean highball glass, a photo of frolicking puppies, and five antacids. Setting the photo directly in front of him, he poured a liberal shot into the glass and downed it. As the bottle hit the table, his other hoof swept up the antacids, and he shotgunned them into his mouth. Still chewing, he filled the glass again, but this time to the top. Across the room, Stormy wilted beneath Cheerilee’s stony stare, but here, carefree puppies were gamboling across a meadow. It wasn’t much, but it was something. As the pounding in his temples lessened, the answer came to him. It was so easy. “Ma’am?”

Cheerilee twisted around in her chair. “Yes?”

“What if we replaced the date?”

Cheerilee looked away from him for a moment, then back. “What?”

Balance rose from his desk, a little unsteady. “I mean, what if we acknowledge that your date was ruined, but we replace the experience with one of equal or greater value? That’s what you were after, right? A nice night out?”

Cheerilee rose, staring suspiciously at the accountant. “You’re going to find me a new date? And please don’t say you’re going to try to hook me up with this shyster,” she said, pointed to where Stormy sat.

“Hey! Now that’s—”

“Zip it, Stormy,” Balance growled. He motioned for Cheerilee to take a seat across from him. “Look, with all the damage outside, our firm is in a bit of a tight spot. We’d love to pay out, but it might be years before we can.”

Cheerilee opened her mouth to protest.

Balance threw a hoof out to forestall her. “I know, I know. Trust me, we don’t like it either, but we didn’t expect half the town to get destroyed all at once.”

“You must be new here,” Cheerilee replied, her expression flat.

Balance steepled his hooves. “So you want a date, and we want to stay in business. I think we should be able to cut a deal that works for all of us.”

“And what if the next one doesn’t work out?” Cheerilee tilted her head slightly to the side and crossed her hooves over her chest. “Will I accrue interest if I have no interest?”

Balance nodded. “I think that’s fair. You are owed, and the debt holder has an obligation. It shouldn’t be too hard for us to find you a nice stallion, o-or mare, if that’s your thing.”

They shook hooves, but Cheerilee’s spreading grin shook Balance Sheet to his core. “Buddy, you have no idea.”

Date Fifty-Five - Un-Appetizers

Stormy Skies lit a final candle, then shook the match out. “Well, what do you think? Pretty good, eh?”

Cheerilee turned in a slow circle, both to take in the office’s new decor and to give herself time to think of something to say that didn’t involve yelling. She was still at a loss when she’d completed her revolution, so she settled for clearing her throat and turning again, but counterclockwise, this time. Maybe there was something she’d missed.

Balance tugged at his collar. “I, Uh… I know it’s not exactly Ponyville’s classiest nightspot, but Stormy and I thought we could keep a closer eye on things here. You know, keep it in a controlled environment.”

“Plus, this was way cheaper,” Stormy said as he tossed the spent match into his wastepaper basket. “You would not believe what those restaurants charge for—ow!”

The desk standing between the partners and Cheerilee didn’t quite block the kick that Balance Sheet sent into Stormy’s leg from her view. “Like I was saying, we wanted to make sure you had the best date that we could provide, and where better than on our home turf?”

Cheerilee’s eyes flicked over to the wastepaper basket. Something was burning. “Stormy, maybe you shouldn’t—”

The three ponies jumped when something metallic crashed in the back room, followed by a bout of vigorously creative swearing. A thin haze of smoke crept out from under the door.

“Heh-heh!” Balance’s determinedly casual grin was somewhat spoiled by the twitching tic that his left eye had adopted. “Nothing to worry about. Say, Stormy?”

“Huh?” leaning back in his office chair, Stormy was just about to put his hooves up on the navy blue tablecloth that covered his office desk. Under Balances intense stare, his hooves froze, then slowly dropped back to the floor. “Um, I mean, what do you need?”

Balance trotted over, and with some insistence, pushed Stormy toward the back room. “Why don’t you go and check on dinner while I give our valued client the tour?”

“Me? I don’t know anything about—”

Balance kicked him in the shin again, much harder this time.

“OW! Okay! I’m going!” Limping, Stormy made his way to the storeroom’s door. A sooty cloud of smoke rolled out when he opened it, and the volume of swearing ratcheted up several decibels. “Sell, what are you doing back there?” he yelled into the opening.

Something containing quite a large number of expletives came back out at him.

Stormy rolled his eyes. “How hard is it to make frozen peas? Just put them in a pot with some water!”

The crash of a plate echoed out, followed by growling and clomping hoofbeats.

“Sell, get back here! You can’t quit again!” Stormy stuck his head into the smoke. “It’s against company policy now. No quitting! We wrote it into the charter!”

Balance shoved Stormy into the back room, then kicked the door closed. “Don’t worry. Just a minor hiccup.” Leaning on the door, he pointedly ignored the escalating fits of coughing from the other side. “Let’s get some air in here, shall we?”

Cheerilee sighed and propped the front door open with a heavy box of unpaid claims. “Look, I know you’re trying, but—”

“No, no, no!” Balance bounded over to her. For a moment, it seemed as though he’d take her hoof, but thought better of it. Instead, he clasped his hooves in the air between them. “I know this looks a little rough around the edges, but is it really that much different than a picnic?”

Cheerilee worked her tongue slowly along the back of her teeth, her eyes traveling around the room. At her hooves, a ragged line of red file folders formed a path from the front to door to Stormy’s desk. Several dozen candles of various sizes and themes blazed around her, stuck into anything that would hold them. In the corner, an ancient phonograph wheezed out something that vaguely resembled a waltz, only at about half of the correct tempo. Finally, her gaze settled back onto Balance, who shuffled nervously from hoof to hoof. She sighed again. He really did seem to be giving it his all.

Balance seized the moment. “I think you’re going to really like this! We’ve worked out what we think is going to be a dynamite meal, and we think you’ll hit it off with this guy. Stormy says he’s a real stallion’s stallion.”

Cheerilee arched an eyebrow. “Does he?”

“Oh, yeah! I’ve been working with him all afternoon! He’s really—”

“What do you mean, ‘working with him all afternoon’?”

“Err…” Balance paled and tugged on his collar again. “Um, you know, we just wanted him to, um, be ready to engage with you on a level that you’d appreciate.”

Cheerilee advanced on the stallion, her eyes now narrowed into dagger-like slits. “Why would he need coaching if—”

“Yo!”

Cheerilee froze. That voice. It can’t be. Ever so slowly, she turned toward the front door. In it, a hulking slab of stallion leaned against the jamb, scratching himself.

“No,” Cheerilee said, whirling on Balance. “No way!”

Panic briefly flashed across Balance’s face before he forced out another friendly grin. “Err… You two have met before. Well… Well, that’s nice, isn’t it?”

Gridiron squinted at her for a moment, then his eyes widened. “Hey, you’re that mare! You still owe me twenty bits! I had to wash dishes for three hours!”

“My heart breaks for you.” Cheerilee snatched her saddlebag up from the floor. “Sorry, Balance, but—”

“Nonononono!” Balance skidded to a stop in front of her, throwing his hooves out wide. “Just…” He took a deep breath. “Just give it a chance.”

A stern voice in Cheerilee’s head rattled of several convincing arguments why this absolutely could not happen. It had several strong bits of evidence, and spoke eloquently about past precedence. The voice was quite vigorous in its suggestion that leaving and doing something else with the rest of the night was really the only way to go.

It was overruled.

Before her, Balance’s hooves trembled, and his eyes were tearing. His ears drooped at just the right angle to wrench Cheerilee’s heart. “Please,” he whispered.

~~~

“I’m sorry, would you mind holding the stem?” Balance leaned slightly forward and held the box of wine just over the glass. “They’re a little unstable.”

Cheerilee rubbed the familiar ache between her eyes for a moment, then sighed and pressed down on the plastic party flute.

“Thanks.” He twisted the spigot open, and a pungent cascade of wine flowed into the glass.

“Wow. This smells… young,” Cheerilee said, her eyes watering.

“Stormy sent Sell out for the freshest wine that we could afford.”

Cheerilee took a delicate sniff, then whipped her head away. “Uh, yeah. It’s fresh all right. Couldn’t be more than a few days old.” She pushed the glass a little further away. We’ll just letthat breathe for a bit.”

The plastic glassware and utensils rattled dully as Gridiron dropped his elbows onto the table. “Could I get a brewski?”

Balance glared at him.

“I, uh…” Gridiron swallowed hard, the lifted his glass and swirled the wine within. “I mean, what an interesting boutique.”

“Bouquet,” Balance growled.

“Yeah. That. Anyway—”

“Here are your menus.” Balance pushed one into Gridiron’s face. “Please make sure to read it thoroughly. I’ll be back in just a moment.”

Fighting to keep her eyes from drifting to the door, Cheerilee opened the menu. Or rather, flipped to the second page of the stapled papers she’d been handed. It read:

Tonight’s Offering:

Spinach penne with fresh marinara

Sauteed peas and carrots

Minestrone

And for dessert:

Champagne Spumoni

Well, at least the dinner sounds good. Cheerilee’s eyes flicked to the closed door in the back, now silent, and somehow all the more foreboding for it. Assuming we get that far.

“S-so, uh…” Gridiron stared at her for a moment. “What’s your name again?”

“It’s Cheerilee.” She tried to keep the irritating out of her voice, but found herself unconcerned that she’d failed.

“Right, right. Anyway...” He squinted at the menu. “What’s it like working with foals?”

Cheerilee blinked several times before recovering. “It’s… it’s nice. I really enjoy helping them grow into the ponies they really want to be. How’s the hoofball going?”

“Oh, babe! I never thought you’d ask!” Gridiron burped, then pounded his chest for a moment. “Sorry, gas. I ate all these barbequed barley stalks at the bar before I came over, and they don’t taste so good coming back up. I’ll probably blow the sheets right off the bed tonight, but it was two-for-one, you know? Anyway, the season’s going pretty good right now! We were practicing yesterday, and I just dropped the hammer on this stallion! Knocked the snot right outta his—”

“And I thought you two might enjoy something to keep you until your meal is ready!” Cheerilee jumped, nearly falling from her seat when Balance seemed to materialize from thin air. Dropping a small wicker basket onto the table, he picked up one of the golden breadsticks it contained and crammed it into Gridiron’s mouth. “It won’t be long now,” he said, glowering at Gridiron, “so I thought I’d pop in and make sure that everything is okay.”

Gridiron mumbled something from around his breadstick.

Without taking his eyes from Cheerilee, Balance cupped the top of Gridiron’s head with his hoof and steered him back to the menu. “Could I get you anything, Cheerilee?”

“Uh, no. I’m fine.” Cheerilee took a breadstick and nibbled on it. To her surprise, it was buttery, with just a hint of garlic. “Mmmm! Well, maybe a few more of these.”

“Excellent!” Balance clapped his hooves together. His smile was radiant. “I’ll just go grab a few more—” His eyes cut over to Gridiron, who shrank back in his seat “—while you two have a pleasant conversation.”

“Err…” Cheerilee turned her head to follow Balance as he briskly trotted into the back room. “What’s the story with you two?”

“Us?” Gridiron swallowed. “No story. I don’t even know the guy.”

Cheerilee gave him a flat stare. “Do you think I just fell off the turnip truck?

“Uh…”

“Here’s your breadsticks!” Balance leaned over the table, the extra wicker basket completely hiding Gridiron’s face. “I’ll just be a few steps away if you need anything. The meal will be out soon, so—”

“I know, I know!” Gridiron pushed the basket out of the way. “Talk about something nice.”

Cheerilee crossed her legs over her chest. “Balance…”

“Let me enhance the mood a bit.” Balance rummaged through a cabinet. “Ah. Here we go!” He set a large candle between them and lit it.

“Balance…”

“There. Isn’t that nice?” He tossed the spent match into the wastepaper basket.

Cheerilee rubbed her temple and pointed to the candle with the other. “Why does it say ‘You’re 3’?”

“Eh-heh!” Balance swallowed. “The candle shop’s selection was a little thin. Apparently Pinkie Pie bought them out a few days ago. Still, this is cheerful, don’t you think?”

“It’s got a clown on it!”

Gridiron yawned and stretched. “Aw, babe, clowns are funny. It’s—” Hooves still reaching for the ceiling, he paused, then sniffed each of his pits. “Okay, not me. Good. Something—”

Cheerilee’s nostrils flared. “Now that you mention it…”

An acrid odor filled through the room. Quailing, Balance ran for the back door. The hazy smoke creeping from beneath it had become a thick cloud. It billowed from the opening when Balance yanked open the door and dive inside.

“Uh…” Gridiron coughed while he perused the menu again. “So what do you like to do when you’re not teaching?” He spoke haltingly, squinting at the menu through the smoke.

“Not choke to death! Can you open the front door?”

“Me?” Gridiron dropped the menu to give her a slightly put-upon expression. “You’re closer.”

Cheerilee’s chair scraped across the floor as sprang to her hooves. “Fine. Whatever. I was on my way there anyway.” She trotted to the front door and pulled it open. Fresh air rolled in, and Cheerilee took a deep breath. It smelled like prudent decisions mixed with freedom. “Never a dull moment with you, Gridiron. Have a—”

“Nonononononono!” Balance erupted from the backroom, wheeling a cart at top speed. Several of the covered dishes slid alarmingly close to the cart’s edge before he threw a leg out to restrain them. “Dinner’s ready! You don’t want to miss that, would you?”

It was a mistake, but Cheerilee looked back over her shoulder. She meant to tell him that it had been a valiant attempt, but that the night was irrecoverable. It all died on her lips when she caught his sad, desperate eyes, though. Mentally berating herself for being such a fool, Cheerilee sighed and took her seat again. “Okay. Last chance, buster.”

Balance pulled at his sweat-soaked collar, then lifted the lids off of the trays. “R-Right. So, here we have—”

Cheerilee slammed her hooves down on the table. “Are you kidding me?”

Sitting on the trays were two scorched frozen dinners. Balance’s hoof trembled as he peeled back the foil covering. Inside, something that might once have been penne pasta sat, somehow both burned and still frozen. Beside the trays, a serving bowl of gelatinous peas and carrots lurked, apparently sautéed for so long that they’d become porridge. The minestrone was nowhere to be found. With a pained smile, Balance dressed each tray with a sprig of parsley.

Gridiron brought his menu up again. “So tell me what your life goals are?”

“Give me that!” Cheerilee snatched the menu from him. Pursing her lips, she scanned it, then rolled her eyes over to where Balance stood, trembling. “I supposed this is part of the coaching? ‘If you could be any kind of bird, what would it be?’ ‘What are the keys to happiness?’” She tossed the menu back down to the table with as much derision as she could load into the gesture.

“Hey, no need to be uptight.” Cheerilee jumped. She hadn’t noticed that Stormy had joined them again. Streaked with soot and sporting a badly tangled mane, he still gave her his most winning smile. “We just wanted to grease the wheels a little bit. You know, make sure conversation was stimulating and fun.”

Cheerilee’s eyes bulged when she threw a hoof out to where Gridiron sat. “And you picked this guy?”

“Hey! What’s wrong with me?” Gridiron’s brows descended like a storm cloud. “I got mares lining up around the block for a piece of this!”

Balance glowered at his partner. “I told you this wasn’t going to work, Stormy,”

Stormy shrugged at Cheerilee. “Eh, what’s it matter? A date’s a date, right? It’s just got to go well. Anyway, he’s Sell’s brother, and Sell wouldn’t come back to work unless we picked him. Says he’s tired of Gridiron hanging around the house all day drinking all the cider.”

“Well, how very nice for him that this lump is out of his mane for a while. Thanks for the dreadful evening, I’ll—”

“Please!” Balance dropped to his knees.

“C’mon!” Stormy said. “Don’t be like that.”

Gridiron took a deep breath, then belched.

“Stormy,” Cheerilee said, rising and retrieving her saddlebag.

Stormy’s ears perked up. “Yeah?”

“Your wastepaper basket is on fire.”

Balance snatched up the box of wine and threw it to Stormy, who was halfway there. He missed his partner by several feet, and the box broke against the far wall. With a small scream, Stormy plowed into the wastepaper basket, knocking it into the air.

Cheerilee turned and patted Balance gently on the shoulder. “I think we’re done here.”

“Yeah.” Balance seemed to deflate as several pieces of flaming garbage settled on the table and lit the menus on fire. Within seconds, the tablecloth was smoldering. “Yeah, you’re probably right. We’ll get it right next time.”

Despite everything that had happened, Cheerilee couldn’t help but to smile a little as his optimism. “Buddy, I sure hope so.” She swept her hoof around their ruined office. “I don’t think you can afford not to.”

Date Fifty-Six - Let's Talk About Sects

Cheerilee continued to smile, and the ponies surrounding the large dining room table continued smiling back. The smiling had been going on for some time now, and Cheerilee’s cheeks were beginning to ache.

A brown mare sitting three spaces to the left leaned over her plate to get a better look. “So nice to meet you,” she said. It was her third time saying it, and the seventieth time Cheerilee had heard it in the last few minutes. Somehow, the mare’s smile widened. Cheerilee caught sight of teeth that no pony outside of an orthodontist should ever see.

“Yes. We’re all so pleased!” A stallion across the table lifted his glass. “A toast to our new sister!”

“I, uh…” Cheerilee just caught herself before she lifted her glass to join with the rest. “I think you all might—”

Juniper waved a hoof, motion for the murmuring crowd to quiet down. “Now, now. Don’t get ahead of yourselves. It’s time for dinner right now. There will be plenty of time for vows later.” He rolled his eyes at Cheerilee when a disappointed groan rose from the table. “Sorry. They’re all really excited.”

Licking her lips and trying to force a smile again, Cheerilee found it difficult to see the exciting part of any of this. Well, I guess a rapidly escalating sense of unease possibly transitioning into panic is exciting…

The day had started out so promisingly. She’d rolled out of bed feeling especially fresh and invigorated. Her shower had been just the right temperature. She’d gone out to the market and found that Golden Harvest was having a sale on her favorite carrots and leafy greens, and when she’d passed her bits over the counter, the mare had tossed in two more carrots with a saucy wink.

Trotting home with a spring in her step, she’d been delighted to see that the mail had come early for once. It always seemed to arrive just as she’d settled into the comfiest nook of her settee to grade papers. She would try to ignore it, but eventually she’d have to get up and check what was in there before she could concentrate again.

Leafing quickly through the letters, she’d nearly passed it up. Halfway to shuffling it to the back of the stack, she’d paused and returned the envelope to the front. The name on the return address tugged at the edges of her memory. Surely it couldn’t be that Juniper.

Now, surrounded by aggressively cheerful ponies, she sorely wished that it hadn’t been. She fought back a small shriek when several of them edged closer. “Vows? Look, if you think we’re getting married, you’re—”

The table broke out into braying laughter. A pony across the table banged his hoof on the table and wiped a little moisture from his eye. Beside her, a mare giggled while she patted Cheerilee on the back.

Cheerilee had never felt happier to have a reason to frown. “Uh…”

At the head of the table, Juniper’s smile was just a touch less radiant than it had been. It had softened, somehow conveying tolerance, disapproval, and forgiveness all in one neat arc. “Brothers and sisters, The Great Horned One appreciates your enthusiasm, but let us not laugh at our guest when we should be inviting her to laugh with us.”

A periwinkle unicorn mare at the other end of the table leapt to her hooves. “Please laugh with us!” she said, her eyes wide and sparkling.

“Yeah!” A stallion jumped up to join here. “Let’s all get Sister Cheerilee to laugh, and then we’ll laugh, too!”

Cheerilee slowly pushed away from the table as a cacophonous chorus of knock-knock jokes and one-liners assaulted her from all sides, but started when her chair’s back hit the wall behind her. She hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but craning her neck to see past the improvised napkin puppet the stallion opposite her was attempting to get her attention with, she realized that her seat at the table was as far from the door as it could be. Swallowing, she turned to Juniper. “Look, I don’t want to seem narrow-minded, but your letter just said you wanted me to come over for dinner. It didn’t say anything about—”

“I thought it would be nice to get reacquainted after all these years. We really had something back in college, didn’t we?” Juniper tugged the pegasus to his right back into his seat. The over-eager stallion had been attempting to climb onto the table to give Cheerilee a better look at his chicken dance. “Get down, Comet. You’re going to knock over the gravy boat.”

The business end of a blaring party horn whacked into Cheerilee’s nose, and she swatted it away. “Well, if you wanted to get reacquainted, someplace a little more, you know, private would have been better, don’t you think?”

Juniper’s face clouded over for a moment. “I’m not sure I—oh!” The stallion chuckled to himself. “Maybe I should have majored in communications instead of cultural history.”

Cheerilee’s eyes narrowed. Beside her, a stallion leaned in and began a story about a two lost guards and their misadventures with an inebriated monkey, but his gleeful voice was muffled when she caught his face in the sole of her hoof. Without taking her eyes from Juniper, she pushed the stallion away. “And that means what, exactly?”

“I guess I was just unclear, that’s all. I wanted you to come over and get reacquainted with the love and peace that Grogar can offer you.”

The din surrounding her died instantly, and the ponies bowed their heads as one. “Grogar, may your strong back support us, and may your beard shine in the darkness!”

Cheerilee’s eyes traveled slowly around the room before stopping on Juniper. “Uh, what do you mean reacquainted? I’ve never met anypony named Grogar, and I’m pretty sure I’d remember a glowing beard.”

“Hey, you can’t—”

“How dare you—“

Juniper shot to his hooves. “Silence! You were all once as she is now! Do you deny it?” All around the room, eyes fell to the floor. “We’re here to bring Cheerilee back into the sacred hooves of Grogar, not to chastise her for being Unawoken.”

Murmurred apologies washed over her as Cheerilee squinted at the door on the far side of the room. It was a fair distance away, beyond a wall of ponies with wide, earnest eyes and hooves that opened and closed repeatedly. Hooves that seemed ready to welcome by force, if necessary. Cheerilee turned to Juniper once again and opened her mouth.

“I know exactly how you feel. It was a shock to me, as well.” His jubilant words came rushing out as he swept his hoof around the room. “To all of us. One day, you’re just living your life, unaware that you are, in truth, sleepwalking. Then the glorious light of Grogar’s shining beard pierces the night’s darkness, and your memory of his love returns! You’ll be so happy now, Cheerilee! Once you’ve donated all of your bits and personal belongings to Grogar’s Assemblage, you can be wed to him as we are!” He rose and placed both forehooves on the table. “And the best part is that you can spread the message directly to the youth! We have an entire foal-oriented, Grogar-approved lesson plan that can hasten the Awakening of so many before they waste countless years walking in darkness!” Juniper’s eyes blazed, and a creeping smile worked its way across his face, seeming to Cheerilee that it twisted and curled in all the wrong ways.

Forcing a wide grin, Cheerilee curled her legs beneath her. “So let me get this straight. All I have to do is give up everything I’ve worked my whole life for and agree to only teach foals what Grogar wants them to hear, and in return I can stay here with all of you?”

“Yes, but not only that,” Juniper said while holding his hooves out to her, “You can be reunited with the universal love of Grogar!” He nodded to the periwinkle pegasus. “Dewdrop here told me that she was on cloud duty with Rainbow Dash, who had told her that you were having some challenges in life. Well, I just couldn’t let an old flame walk on black roads when I had light to share! I know that together we—hey!”

Scooping up a bowl of salad, she tossed it into the face of the stallion across from her, then vaulted over the table. He gave a surprised grunt when she slammed into him with her shoulder. As he fell to the floor, she hit the ground running.

“Get her!” Juniper fumbled with his chair, half-falling as he struggled to get out from around it. “She can’t be allowed to leave until she sees the beard’s guiding light! She’ll need a few weeks in the Grogarium!”

Cheerilee lowered her head and crashed through the door, thanking her lucky stars that the cult had decided to skimp on quality décor. Manic, gibbering cries bizarrely reminiscent of bleating echoed out behind her. She’d just cleared the jamb when several wild-eyed ponies head erupted from the doorway. As the acolytes slammed into each other, their heads collided with hollow thunks. They reached out after her with clutching hooves as they fought to exit first.

Cheerilee stopped for just a moment to catch her breath. Several dozen yards away, the cultists were snarling and trying to push each other out of the way. Her heart was pounding, but she spurred herself back into motion. She had a letter to Princess Celestia to write. Good to know, I guess. I’m desperate, but not that desperate!

Date Fifty-Seven - Rolling With The Punches

Cheerilee double-knotted the laces on her skates. It’s going to be fine. If foals can do it, so can you. Dropping her hoof back to the carpeted floor, she rolled the skate back and forth a few times. With each pass, the ground seemed to slide away from her with alarming suddenness. Sweating, she added another knot to each skate.

“You okay?” Sprocket glided over to her with a fluid grace that inspired deep envy. “You don’t look so hot.”

Swallowing, Cheerilee dug down deep and found her special smile. The one that helped put her students at ease when they’d done something that had embarrassed them or were feeling especially unsure. “No, no! I’m, um… I’m excited.”

Sprocket’s eyes drifted down to her hooves. “I think you’re cutting off your circulation. Your legs are swelling.”

“Mrgf fmfp mkblbv!” Cheerilee said while tugging at the laces with her teeth.

“Sorry?” Sprocket replied.

Cheerilee sighed. “I’m just a bit nervous, too. It’ll pass.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be right by your side until you find your balance” A slow smile crept its way across Sprocket’s artfully scruffy face. “I sincerely hope that takes all night…”

Cheerilee’s heart skipped a beat, and her cheeks burned. Between his slight beard, tousled, sun-bleached mane, and twinkling eyes, Sprocket just oozed roguish earth-pony charm. She offered him a skate-clad hoof. “Oh, I’m an awfully slow learner when I want to be. You might have to take extra time with me.”

“We’ll just see how the night goes. Further attention might be in order,” he replied, hooking her fetlock and hauling her up to her hooves. “I take pride in my work, after all. So what do you—whoa!”

“Whaaa!” Cheerilee’s other hooves shot out from under her in three different directions. Running furiously in place, her legs worked into a blur while she fought to maintain her balance. Finally, her skates settled on left and she careened toward a wall before Sprocket’s grip on her fetlock tightened and he yanked her back.

“Hmmm. This might be harder than I thought,” he said as he draped a leg around her barrel and pressed her firmly against his side. “You weren’t kidding when you said you’d never done this, were you?”

Cheerilee shook her head. She could feel her cheeks burning again—this time unpleasantly—but when she caught his eye, she found herself grinning. “I guess you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Winking, Sprocket nestled her more closely against his side. “It’s a grind, but every job’s got its upsides. Take this one.” He tilted his head over to her, then waggled his eyebrows. “The scenery’s fantastic.”

Cheerilee sniggered and rolled her eyes. “Just get me out onto the rink, Grassanova.”

~~~

“Will you watch it?” Cheerilee snapped at the passing teens. One of them had whipped by her close enough to ruffle her mane.

“You’re doing fine,” Sprocket said, steering them at a snail’s pace through one for the skating rink’s curves.

Cheerilee’s knees definitely did not think that they were doing fine. They were clambering for solid, dependable hoof placement in the immediate future, with one hundred percent fewer circular attachments thrown into the agreement. With each gliding advancement, they argued in favor of going on strike. Her hooves seemed to agree, and they often headed for the door. Or the concession booth. Or the restrooms. Often all at once.

But each time she found herself out of control, Sprocket adroitly pulled her back into position. After a short while, her hooves found a certain rhythm to follow. She leaned when he leaned, and they traced a shallow arc together around the oval rink.

“See? It’s not so tough,” Sprocket said, pushing them slightly to the left. A grinning stallion whizzed by them, then leapt into the air. Twisting through a complex series of spins, he landed facing backwards and doffed his hat to Cheerilee. “Soon you’ll be doing stuff like that, and poor ol’ Sprocket will be sitting all alone on the benches.”

Cheerilee shook her head at the display. “I think you’ve got a while before you have to worry about—whoops!” Her right, front leg flew out and she twisted toward the floor.

Turning with her, Sprocket scooped Cheerilee up into a standing position. One hoof around her waist, the other held her rogue hoof as well as it was able to through his skate. Together, they spun in lazy circles, face to face in the center of the rink. As they slowed, Sprocket looked away for a moment. “Um, it’s probably gauche to mention right now, but we should talk about the fee for this lesson.”

Cheerilee stiffened. “Fee? What fee?”

“This one.” Pulling her in close, Sprocket kissed her.

Her eyes flew wide, then she leaned in. The light, spicy aroma of his cologne filled her senses, and his body felt blazing hot against hers. The world around them dimmed.

Or it did until the whistling started.

Snorting out a series of giggles, they broke apart. “You’re just jealous!” Sprocket yelled out to one of the passing groups of kids.

“Yeah, right!” the colt fired back, laughing. “Go get a room!”

“Look, I think I need to sit down for a few minutes.” Cheerilee said, still panting a bit. Her heart was racing, and her knees were trembling worse than ever. “I don’t think I can stand on four legs much longer, much less two.”

“Okay, let’s—”

A crackling speaker came to life, followed by thumping music. “Alright, Hilltop Rink roller-fanatics! It’s Friday night, and you know what that means!”

As a cheer rose from the crowd, Cheerilee turned to Sprocket, her eyebrow arched. “What does it mean?” Across the rink, several ponies waved to their groups and rolled off into the arcade.

“No idea,” he said, shrugging. “I usually just skate out by the pond, but that’s no good for a beginner. It’s too bumpy. I wanted you to start—l” Sprocket frowned up at the speaker, then continued in a louder voice over the thumping beat “—to start on a smooth floor.”

A cold lump settled in Cheerilee’s stomach as she tracked the steady stream of stallions and mares exiting the floor. “Let get out of—”

“That’s right!” screamed the speaker. “You’ve waited all week, but it’s time to tighten those laces! Hilltop Rink proudly presents Equestria’s one and only out of cont-roll skating event: Shock ‘n’ Roll!”

Sprocket hesitated for only a moment before pushing off toward one of the exit doors, but it was a moment too long. The ponies still on the floor screamed when the lights when out, then giggled behind their hooves when several unicorns hiding in alcoves above the rink fired out swirling, twisting beams of light from their horns in time with the music. From somewhere that Cheerilee couldn’t quite see, a thick fog began filling the room.

“Let’s just find a wall and follow it!” Cheerilee said, squinting through the mist. While dazzling, the unicorn’s lighting effects were making it very difficult to judge where they were. At each end of the rink, a blinding beam of arcane power pierced the fog, and where it met the floor, the boards glowed.

“So get ready, skate-o-holics! We’ve got the light! We’ve got the sound! All that’s left is that kar-azy ground! Hold onto your hide, ’cause you’re about to ride! Ride the wave, that is!”

Cheerilee and Sprocket screamed and threw their legs around one another when the floor dipped. What had once been a flat surface had turned into a steep hill. Several groups of skaters flew past them, leaning into the acceleration.

“Get me out of here!” Cheerilee shrieked as her hooves scrambled in all direction. Somehow, her flailing seemed to increase their velocity.

“I’m trying!” Sprocket’s head twisted, trying to look everywhere at once. “I can’t figure out which—aah!”

The floor beneath them tilted hard to the right, rising as it went. Traveling at breakneck speed, Cheerilee and Sprocket found themselves skating parallel to the building’s wall, then into a teardrop loop. Just in front of them, the pony that had doffed his cap at them earlier wiped out and slid down the rest of the loop’s decline.

Cheerilee screamed again when Sprocket scooped her up, then threw her across his broad back. He had just enough time to jump over the prone stallion. “We’re going to break every bone in our bodies if we don’t get off this floor,” he growled. The fog cleared up just enough to see that the ahead had morphed into a series of moguls. A pack of whooping ponies high-hoofed each other as they navigated the difficult terrain. Grunting, Sprocket shot off the path and out into the open air.

“What are you doing?” Cheerilee said, wrapping her hooves around his neck as tightly as she could manage.

“Ow! Watch those skates!” he replied, leaning away from where her wheels had slammed into his ear. “If we want to get out of here, we need to fool those unicorns. It looks like they’re enchanting the rink when the skaters get there, so I’m trying to take a path that they won’t expect.”

Cheerilee glanced down at the floor rippling and twisting beneath them. It seemed terrible far away. “Why don’t you just talk to them?” she yelled back over the blaring music. “Oh. Right. Are… are you sure about this?”

“No,” Sprocket replied, his mouth set in a grim line. “Do you have any better ideas?”

Shaking her head, Cheerilee held on for dear life.

“Okay, now that everypony’s warmed up,” the speaker yelled again over the music, “let’s get this party started!” Several more unicorns with slightly bored expression trotted up to the half-wall that separated the floor from the surrounding lounge area. Each levitated a rubber ball from a bin and shot it out into the mass of skaters. Off in the haze, several meaty thunks echoed out, followed by screams and laughter. As the balls bounced back, the unicorns fired them off again.

Shaking his hoof at them, Sprocket angled for the closest exit door. “You maniacs! What is wrong with you? Somepony’s going to get hurt here!”

The nearest unicorn catch a careening rubber ball and fired it out into the fog. “Hilltop Rink is a Skate At Your Own Risk family funporium. Says so right on your entrance ticket.”

“Well, get us—”

But Sprocket’s words were ripped away when the floor sprang up beneath them. Suddenly, they were soaring through the air again and back into the thick things.

“They’re working to keep everypony together,” Sprocket yelled out over the music. “Look, I think we’re going have to jump for it!”

Cheerilee’s eyes widened. “What?”

Sprocket looked back over his shoulder at her. “This place is designed to keep skaters in, but we want to get out! To do that, we need to do what they don’t expect us to do. If we don’t, they’ll just keep funneling us back out onto the floor!”

Cheerilee released her death grip on Sprocket’s mane just long enough to wave at one of the unicorns. “Hey! Hey! Help us!”

The unicorn gave a half-hearted wave back and returned to shooting multicolored beams of light through the fog.

“Look, I know you’re new to this, but we’re going to have to work together!” Sprocket held her eyes for a moment before turning back to the floor. They were just about to land again. “I’m just not strong enough to jump out of here with you on my back. You were doing great before. You can do this!”

Cheerilee bit her tongue as they landed with bone-rattling force. “I… I can’t!”

“You can!” he replied through labor breaths. “All we need to do is skate together for a few seconds to build up speed, then jump whenever the track rises again. Five seconds! That’s all it’ll take, and then we’ll be out of here!”

Trembling, Cheerilee tightened her grip around his neck, then slowly—very, very slowly—she forced herself to relax and slide back to the floor. Immediately, her hooves scrambled out from under her, but Sprocket hooked his hoof around her barrel. Taking a deep breath, she willed her hooves to match his, stride for stride.

Within seconds, they were picking up speed, assisted by the rink, which had chosen to dip down into another valley. Cheerilee’s mane streamed out behind her, and the wind made her eyes tear slightly. She’d clamped her jaw so tightly shut that it was beginning to ache.

“Ready…” Sprocket called out when the floor tilted up again.

Cheerilee’s leg muscles were burning, but she forced them to keep up.

“Almost…” he growled.

Sweat streamed down Cheerilee’s brow, but she skated on.

“Now!”

Together, they leapt as they crested the hill. The pair arced gracefully over the writhing wooden floor and out toward the cushy couches that ringed the lounge.

“See?” Sprocket said, grinning. “I told you I’d be right by your side the whole time. Now—oof!”

A barrage of rubber balls slammed into Sprocket, and he fell, Momentum yanked Cheerilee out of his grasp, but off into a new direction. While he plummeted back toward the rink, she now flew out toward the double doors that led outside. Cheerilee barely had time to squeeze her eyes closed and clamp her jaw shut before she slammed into the doors.

They flew opened with almost no resistance, and she was suddenly rocketing down Ponyville’s steepest hill. She hasn’t given the name ‘Hilltop Rink’ much thought on the way up, but as she careened out of control down that same path, it seemed like an incredibly irresponsible place to have a skating establishment.

“Get out of the way!” she yelled unnecessarily as she flashed by several shocked ponies. Up ahead, another group dove out of her chaotic, zigzagging path. “Get out of—uh oh.”

Cheerilee’s pupils shrank to pinpoints, and she backpedal with all of her might, but it did little to arrest her ever-increasing velocity. Velocity that was taking her directly into Ponyville’s town square, which was currently hosting the Rare China and Extremely Delicate Pottery Festival. And past that, Ponyville’s Haphazardly Constructed Fruit Stand Festival. And the annual Half-Filled Cardboard Box Festival.

Sighing, Cheerilee stopped backpedaling and leaned into the inevitable.

Date Fifty-Eight - Deviating From The Program

A bead of sweat slid down the side of Megabyte’s face, then landed on his report with a plop that sounded to the scientist like thunder in the otherwise silent auditorium. As he stared down at where the drop had landed, the paper wrinkled slightly. He pursed his lips and tried to rub the spot dry with his hoof. “Any luck?” he asked, resolutely refusing to look up from the pages.

A reply which sounded vaguely like “Dunno what the deal is” mumbled from around a mouthful of donut came from somewhere behind the robust stallion that stood unmoving several yards away.

Megabyte jumped slightly when a throat pointedly cleared. “Ah, yes. I apologize for the delay. We had hoped to have D-8-R give you the report himself, but we seem to have run into a small glitch of some sort—”

“I don’t know if I’d say ‘small’,” the voice behind the robot said after a loud swallow. “Looks like his syntax analyzer got wired into his motor control instead of his logic processor. How much did I have to drink last night, MB? I keep telling you, you gotta keep the soldering gun away from me after I have too many—”

“Yes, yes, Dot! We, ah, we’ll discuss best practices at a later date.” Megabyte quailed when the mare on the review board checked her watch. “For now, best not to keep these fine ponies waiting any longer!”

The greying stallion opposite him adjusted his glasses to sit more squarely on his muzzle. “Yes, that would be appreciated. It’s been nearly forty-five minutes.”

“Has it?” Megabyte leafed rapidly through his report. Though he had drafted it, the writing within seemed almost foreign. Generally he practiced these things for weeks ahead of time, but when Dot Matrix has suggested that D-8-R could impress the panel with a flawless presentation of his own results, well, the idea had been intoxicating. Too intoxicating, it seemed. They’d had a drink to the genius of it, then several more. After that, the night’s details seemed to slip away into questionable darkness. Now, staring down at the data sets, his heart began to pound.

“It has,” the mare returned. As always, her bun was pulled back into what seemed like an excruciatingly tight knot. It reminded Megabyte of strangulation, of drowning, of hooves clawing at throats—

Megabyte gasped in a huge lungful of air and waved away the black spots the asphyxiation had left before his eyes.

“Are you quite alright?” the aged stallion the headed the panel asked in his wheezy, brittle voice.

Waving him back into this seat, Megabyte forced a wan smile. “No need to—”

“That’s just his thing,” Dot said from within the robot. He’d opened an access panel in D-8-R’s barrel and had crammed his head and left foreleg into it. “MB forgets to breathe sometimes when he gets too worked up. Oh, hey! Look at—” The robot rang like a gong, and Dot swore. “Ow! Why did we make this panel so small? But you remember when you couldn’t find your calculator?”

“I’m sure the committee isn’t interested in—”

With some difficulty, Dot wiggled his leg back out and waved a badly battered calculator back and forth. “I guess we left it in here! Always the last place you look, eh?”

As one, the three ponies sitting on the university’s funding committee raised their left eyebrows. Megabyte tugged at his collar. “Yes. Curious, that. Anyway, Dot, if you could work quietly over there, I’ll proceed.”

“Thank you,” the greying stallion said, tapping an impatient hoof on his desk. “We’ve heard several things recently which have us concerned about your project.”

The mare leaned down and retrieved a sheet of parchment from the saddlebag which sat beside her. “I received this memo from you stating that you’d made great progress with your… your… What did you call this thing again?”

Megabyte threw a hoof out toward the robot. “This is the D-8-R, Mark Three, Equestria’s premiere companionship-oriented artificial intelligence. He—”

“He’s the Loooooove-Bot!” Dot said, his voice dropping into its lowest register. Megabyte assumed it was an attempt to sound sexy, but echoing through the robot’s metal frame it took on a doom-heralding, sepulchral quality.

“Yes, thank you, Dot! I’ll take it from here.” Megabyte gripped the lectern with a hoof, taking some small comfort from the solidity of the thing. “We’ve made great strides recently. The Mark Three has been equipped with at least eighteen new, independent subroutines that would have impossible just six months ago. His ability to understand unfamiliar situations and navigate them to logical and satisfying conclusions is leaps ahead of where it was at our last meeting.”

The aged stallion frowned, leaning forward in his chair and steepling his hooves. “Then what is all this tosh the committee has been hearing about rampages and lawsuits levied upon the university?”

Megabyte jumped when the lectern cracked. He’d squeezed the corner so hard that it had broken off in his hoof. Fumbling with it for a moment, he finally settled for cramming it onto the pocket of his lab coat. “Ah, well, that isn’t to say that the progress has always been smooth. We learn so much with each outing, you see? Live field tests are essential to our understanding—”

Something inside the robot popped, and a thin, acrid smoke poured out from its nostrils. “Can’t make an omelet without breaking a few heads, am I right?” Dot said before descending in a coughing fit. After a moment, he wrenched his head out of the access panel and wiped at his streaming eyes.

Megabyte squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, willing patience to come. “As we discussed at the last meeting, we found that focusing on a target to exclusion yielded results that were somewhat less than desirable—”

“Somewhat?” The mare stared at him incredulously. “This machine of yours destroyed several buildings and nearly hospitalized my niece!”

Swallowing hard, Megabyte dabbed at his brow with a handkerchief. “N-now I object to that. There is no evidence that leads us to believe Cheerilee was in any actual danger. If she’d just given him a chance instead of running—”

“If the committee recalls, we voted unanimously to move forward with continued funding after the last mishap,” the greying stallion said, turning in his seat to glare at his companions. “Let’s not waste more time re-litigating the matter.” Turning back to Megabyte, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his forelegs across his chest. “Please bring us up to speed. What new data do you have for us?”

“Well, as you can see, we’ve given D-8-R an entirely updated appearance. The new synthetic skin fooled six out of ten ponies in swatch tests—”

Dot trotted over to the lectern. “You have no idea how hard it is to get swatches of real pony hide for comparison! We had to—”

Placing his hoof on Dot’s forehead, Megabyte forcefully shoved him out of the spotlight. “The, ah… The details are all in the report. Let’s stick to the broader picture, shall we?” He pressed a button on the lectern and a light flickered to life, highlighting the robot. “After police reports quoted witnesses as saying D-8-R’s appearance ranged from ‘creepy’ to ‘terrifying’ to ‘my foal still has nightmares’, we decided it might be best to start afresh. His skin is now pliable and warm to the touch. Fine motor controls have been added, upping his total expressions to fifteen.”

“You should see ‘confused’, though!” Dot snorted out a laugh. “Looks like he’s gonna take the biggest du—”

Megabyte kicked out with his rear hoof, mentally smiling as he knocked the wind out of his assistant. “But our most significant advance was in social recognition and decision/criteria evaluation. The results have been unprecedented.”

“Yes,” the aged stallion wheezed. “’Unprecedented’ might be just the word for it. The university has never received so many legal threats and demands for compensation.”

Blanching, Megabyte tore through his report with shaking hooves. “Putting aside the issue of hospitalization, which I might add we have partly covered with our funding, D-8-R nearly quadrupled his dating efficacy. This is undeniable progress!”

The committee did not return Megabyte’s somewhat strained smile.

“Which means what, exactly?” the mare finally said.

“It means he was with Cheerilee for about four hours instead of one,” Dot said, still a little breathless.

The mare’s eyebrows rose, and she half-stood from her chair. “You sent this thing after Cheerilee again?”

“We, ah, well we thought it best to keep the data sets as consistent as we possibly could!” Megabyte said, throwing his hooves up to ward off the waves of indignation rolling up at him from the mare. “Cheerilee is a known quantity, and she’s shown herself to be remarkably resilient—”

“She’s had to be!” the mare shot back.

The greying stallion cocked an eyebrow at the mare next to him. “It was your idea to fund this thing for your niece in the first place. You can’t get upset about it now.”

She glared at him, setting her hooves on her hips. “The goal was a perfect gentlecolt, not some crazed—”

“Now, now,” the aged stallion said, waving them back into position with a liver-spotted hoof. “We can debate the ethics of the thing later. Let’s let the good professor finish his presentation.”

Megabyte took a deep breath. “Combing through our data, we came to the conclusion that D-8-R’s pursuit behavior was too aggressive. In both instances, he “came on too strong”, as they say in the common vernacular. We adjusted for that, and I think we can all agree that the recalibration was a resounding success.”

“So what is all of this, then?” The aged stallion tapped a stack of parchment with his hoof. “At least twenty-eight confirmed injuries, and more trickling in still.”

Megabyte’s eyes ran over the stack of angry letters. It seemed very tall to him. “Well, but none of them are from mares, correct?”

The aged stallion’s forehead creased. “Now that you mention it, I don’t remember seeing any mares on the reports.”

“That’s ’cause D-8-R’s got this massive jealous streak. He’s—”

Dot let of a series of surprised grunts as Megabyte crammed one of the stacked chalkboard erasers that the lectern held into his assistant’s mouth. “Thank you, Dot! You’ve been a great help!” Megabyte said loudly while pushing the gagging stallion from the room. Slamming the door, he propped a chair under the handle and tugged on it to ensure the barricade’s stability.

“Jealous?” The greying stallion said.

“Artificial intelligences do not get jealous,” Megabyte replied. He tried out a chuckle, but didn’t quite succeed. Instead, it came out as a snorting cough that wasn’t the least bit infectious or mood-leavening. “It’s just a matter of logical deduction. D-8-R merely sought out efficiency. With a few more tweaks—”

The greying stallion’s piercing eyes locked onto Megabyte’s. “What is this ‘efficiency’, exactly?” the stallion said, chewing lightly on the arm of his spectacles.

“W-well…” Megabyte said before stopping to mop at his brow again. Several more drops of sweat now marred his report, but he hardly noticed it anymore. Off to his right, the door he’d pushed Dot Matrix through rattled alarmingly. “Well, as I said before, we focused on dialing back D-8-R’s target… I hesitate to say ‘aggression’, but perhaps ‘dogged pursuit ’ might serve. As stated previously, I believe that is a success worth celebrating, and—”

“Get on with it,” the greying stallion growled.

“Right! Quite right!” Megabyte inhaled forcefully, trying to slow his galloping heart. “I-it seems that our focus might have been a tad narrow. We sent D-8-R to Ponyville’s annual Spring Fling celebration under the code name Ember. A dance and carnival are erected in the town’s main square each year, and we surmised that it would provide D-8-R with a sufficiently stimulating environment with which to test out his subroutines.”

The mare’s eyes fluttered closed, and she rubbed at her temple.

“A-anyway,” Megabyte said, speeding on, “we thought he might make a good impression by winning a prize for the target—”

“Can we not use ‘target’ and my niece in the same sentence, please?” the mare said through clenched teeth.

“By winning a prize for Cheerilee at one of the booths!” Megabyte said. “And it went off without a hitch, I’d like to point out. D-8-R won the biggest, fluffiest stuffed toy they had to offer, then presented it to Cheerilee with what I think any reasonable pony would view to be considerable charm. If the committee cares to review the data sets before them, they will see that nearly four hours of fun and merriment followed.”

“Sprains and contusions also followed, it says here,” the aged stallion said, holding up his report and motioning toward a graph with a precipitous drop at the end. “Quite a drop in measured enjoyment near the end.”

Megabyte bit his lip and stared down at the graph. The line seemed to be leaping off of a high cliff and plummeting with alarming velocity toward the bottom of the page. “It, ah… It seems that D-8-R reacted somewhat poorly to a statement that Cheerilee made regarding the physique of a strongpony, but we’re hard at work correcting—”

“Reacted badly how?” The mare said, frowning.

“Well…” Megabyte tried to lick his lips, but his tongue was dry as the desert. “Well, he asked Cheerilee if the strongpony was attractive to her. Our records show that she might have gotten increasingly flustered at his reaction. She seemed to say that the pony was attractive, but that she finds lots of stallions attractive, and that in no way did it mean that D-8-R wasn’t attractive. The data becomes unreliable for a few cycles after that. Dot thinks D-8-R might have blown something from the stress.”

The greying stallion ran a hoof over his face.

“But if you look at it in the correct light, the ensuing events offer up a hopeful picture of future progress,” Megabyte said. His forehead was still streaming, but his handkerchief was beyond use now unless he wanted to wring it out. Unsure of what to do with it, he finally settled on jamming it into his pocket, then swore as he rammed his hoof into the chuck of wood he’d forgotten he’d put there. He sucked on the wound for a moment before continuing. “While the results weren’t exactly what we were looking for, it does show remarkable analytical and problem solving ability.”

“Stallion A. Flowers forcibly inserted into nostrils,” the aged stallion said, peering down at the report. “Stallion B. Knocked unconscious with a box of chocolates. Stallion C. Severe paper cuts.” The stallion looked up. “Paper cuts?”

“Ah, yes.” Megabyte clenched his jaw, but it did little to help. “It was a poem D-8-R had penned for Cheerilee. Dot thought it was best to limit most of his options to romantic gestures. He, ah… He used them in… unexpected ways. We had no idea that a box of chocolates could be employed martially.”

“A war zone. That’s how the mayor of Ponyville put it in her report to the authorities.” The greying stallion sucked on his teeth for a moment, scrutinizing Megabyte. “Your report speaks of significant progress, but I’m afraid that I’m struggling to see it.”

A tiny flutter of anger rippled through Megabyte. “Page thirty-one! Plain as day!” he said, his mane bristling.

Across from him, the committee leafed through the document.

“What am I looking at?” the greying stallion finally said. “All I see is a long list of personal injury and property damage.”

“It’s not what’s there!” Megabyte held up the page and tapped it forcefully with his hoof. “It’s what’s missing! Nowhere, in any of this, is there any indication that Cheerilee was hurt! Terrified? Certainly. Confused? Assuredly. But in all of the ensuing chaos, not one hair in her mane was harmed, or the hair of any mare, I might add.”

The committee stared back down at the report with renewed intensity.

The mare took out a quill and scratched down a few notes onto her copy. “So what you’re saying is that this robot took care of my niece, even while waging a one-pony war on Ponyville’s festival?”

“Exactly!” Megabyte replied, his eyes lighting up. “There’s even an instance or two of D-8-R saving her from collapsing structures after he’d chased a stallion through it. It looks like she fought him pretty hard, too. One of his optical sensors came back non-functional. It had several dents that match her hoofprints exactly. I can proudly say that even when faced with adversity, he was very gallant toward Cheerilee.”

“And all that it took was the hospitalization of dozens of ponies and the utter destruction of a beloved festival,” the greying stallion said before his mouth settled into a grim, hard line.

Megabyte’s face fell. “I-In a certain light, yes, I suppose it—”

“I think our choice is clear,” the aged pony said, his voice tired. Beside him, the other committee members nodded. “The inhabitants of Ponyville surely know by now that they live in dangerous times. While not optimal, this experiment is progressing.” The committee stood as one, then began to gather their belongings.

“Then…” Megabyte said, gripping the lectern again. He didn’t trust his knees at the moment.

“Funding continued,” the mare trotted over to Megabyte and leaned in close. “The local government is concerned that my niece’s name keeps cropping up in these kinds of reports,” she said in a low voice. “For the sake of Ponyville, she needs a steady date. This might be our best option. Get this thing up and running, and remember: gentlecolt, not rampaging metal monstrosity.” The mare patted Megabyte’s shoulder, then turned for the door. “Equestria might be depending on it,” she said over her shoulder as she turned the knob.

Date Fifty-Nine - You Can't Spell 'Now' without 'Ow'

“Our lives are just so hectic, you know?” Gust swirled the wine in his glass while holding Cheerilee’s eyes with his own. “I just feel like it’s so important to live in the now. To really be here, you know, in the present, without any distractions.”

Cheerilee had to admit that she was feeling more than a little distracted. She’d seen Winter Wind’s father from time to time when he’d come by to pick the filly up from school, but he’d always looked so stern and imposing. When the pegasus foal had shyly come up to her a few days ago and said that her daddy wanted to speak with her, Cheerilee had wondered if Winter’s rather grim father had taken some issue with a recent lesson.

But she’d agreed; Winter’s education was the important thing after all. However, when Gust had touched down beside the jungle gym, he’d patted Winter on the head and told her to go play while he had a talk with Ms. Cheerilee.

Interesting! That’s what he called me! Cheerilee took a sip from her own glass. It wasn’t what he’d said, really. It was the way he’d said it. The hesitation behind the word. One that meant he’d really wanted to say something else. Alluring, maybe? Sexy? The mare who is just absolutely driving you crazy?

“But I think you’re different, Cheerilee. I can tell by the way Winter goes on about you.” Gust leaned forward just a little, his voice fervent. “It takes dedication to teach foals. You got to be right there with them. In their now.”

“Well, I try,” Cheerilee replied. The smoldering intensity of his gaze made it a little hard to follow the conversation. “Some foals struggle a little with their attention spans. You have to put yourself in their horseshoes. It’s no use planning an hour about ancient pony history when half the class will be looking out the windows. There’s plenty of time for that when they’re a little older.”

Gust grinned. “Exactly! There’s a time and place for everything, but I think when ponies are trying to make a connection, they should be in the present. Sometimes I think Equestria has just gotten too complicated. So many distractions.”

“Dad, can I go over to Sky Blaze’s? I’m all done with my—Whoa! What are you doing here, Ms. Cheerilee?”

Cheerilee started, nearly spilling her wine. She set her glass down on the table while running her other hoof through her mane a few times. “Oh, um, hi, Winter. How are you?”

Gust knocked a hoof against his forehead. “I’m so sorry, Cheerilee. I got so swept up in our conversation that I forgot to have Winter come in and say hello.”

“How did you get up here?” Winter said, squinting at Cheerilee for a moment before poking at the pillowy cloud floor? “I thought only pegasi could walk on clouds.”

Setting her hooves on her knees, Cheerilee leaned forward a little, putting her a little closer to the foal’s eye level. “Don’t you remember when we talked about Clover the Clever and what he did at the Great Tribal Summit?”

The foal thought for a moment before perking up. “Oh, yeah! The hospital spell!”

“Hospitality,” Cheerilee gently corrected. “And what did that do for pony-kind?”

Winter raised a hoof. “Oh, I know!”

“Winter, you don’t need to put your hoof up. You’re the only foal here.”

“Oh. Oh, right.” Winter’s pale blue cheeks darkened to a deep purple. “But, um, it made it so that other ponies could visit pegasus houses as long as they were invited. That way, the pegasi wouldn’t feel so lonely and we could all become better friends!”

“Very good!” Cheerilee said, clapping her hooves for the foal. “And as for how I got up here, your father carried me.”

“Dad’s strong!” Winter said, grinning. “This one time, he bought so many apples that—”

Gust cleared his throat. “Did you finish Ms. Cheerilee’s homework, Winter?”

“Yeah.” Winter fished through her tiny saddlebags for a moment before placing several pieces of parchment on the table. They were covered back and front with scrawling quill strokes. Cheerilee’s gaze traveled down the length of the page. From here, she could nearly read the foal’s answers.

Gust smiled a tight smile and nodded. “Good girl. And did you ask Moonbeam if you could come over?”

“Um, no, but Sky said that it would be okay ’cause his mom told him that I could come over whenever I wanted to.”

The tight smile retreated just a little. “Winter, what have I told you? You still have to ask. You can’t just show up.”

“But he said!”

Gust sighed. “Cheerilee, would you excuse me for a moment? I’d like to write a note to send along.”

Cheerilee ripped her eyes away from where the completed homework sat on the coffee table. “Huh?”

Gust paused for a moment, his expression tightening slightly. “I need to step away for a moment to write a note.”

“Oh, sure. No problem at all!” Cheerilee lifted her glass once more. “I have this excellent, um…” Her gaze dropped down to where the foal sat. “This delicious grape juice to entertain me.”

Winter rolled her eyes. “I know what wine is, Ms. Cheerilee.”

“That’s plenty of that tone, miss,” Gust said, prodding Winter out of the room. “I apologize for this. It will only take a second.”

“Mmhmm,” Cheerilee replied. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the creamy parchment. As the sound of father and daughter receded, the assignment seemed to call to her. A hoof drifted over and pulled the sheet closer. What was the first question? Oh, that’s right. ‘Who was Equestria’s first princess?’ What did Winter put down for that? Princess Serenity! What a smartie! She got it right! Now, what about the next—

“Hey!”

Cheerilee jumped and let out a small scream. The crimson-inked quill that she hadn’t realized that she’d been holding dropped into her lap.

Gust placed a steadying hoof on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Cheerilee.” I called your name three or four times, but you didn’t seem to hear me.”

Cheerilee felt the hot rush of blood in her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Gust. I was just lost in thought.”

“Happens to us all, I suppose. Anyway, where were we?” Gust said before pausing to think for a moment. “Ah, yes! The ‘Now!’” Scooping up his wine glass once more, Gust reclined into the couch and threw a foreleg out across the back. “I just find it concerning that everypony seems so caught up in what’s happening tomorrow that they miss today. I mean, sure, you can’t live without plans, but life isn’t meant to be nothing but, either. Have you studied any of Cantor’s writings?”

Cheerilee nodded. “Yes! I took a year of philosophy in college.”

“Then I’m sure you understand my concern,” Gust replied, grinning. “It was Cantor who first pointed out…”

Cheerilee took another sip, allowing the wine’s warmth to creep through her. She was doing her best to keep the dopey smile that she could feel inside from spreading too quickly across her face. Here she was, talking philosophy with this gorgeous hunk of a stallion for what might be three or four uninterrupted, secluded hours in a luxurious cloud house. Nothing here except the excellent wine, fine company, and the neatly stacked pages of Winter Wind’s homework, each page meticulously filled out in the neat hoofwriting that only little fillies seemed to possess. Now what was her second answer…

“Is something wrong?”

Cheerilee blinked several times at the hoof Gust was waving before her face. “What? Oh! Oh, I’m… I apologize, Gust. It’s just Winter’s homework caught my eye and I got a little lost thinking about the lesson plan.”

Gust’s look of concern cooled slightly. “And here I thought we were having a pleasant conversation.”

“We were! Are!” Cheerilee scooped up the pages, folded them, then tucked them into her saddlebag. “There. Wasn’t it Cantor himself who said that a mind free from distraction is a canvas upon which greatness is made?”

The rigidity seemed to melt out of Gust’s posture, and sank back into the couch once more. “It was! That was in his second essay on the workings of the mind. Now you’ve got me curious, Cheerilee. What did you take away from those writings? A lot of ponies seem to think that he was implying that physical fitness was subordinate to education, but I personally found it to be saying the opposite! For the mind to be at it’s best, the body must be in tip-top form, and that’s why the ‘Now’ is so important! We must be present, really listening to what our bodies need! Nourishment! Exercise! So many ponies are just cooped up all day in offices, skipping meals and missing sleep. Is that what you’re seeing, too?”

Cheerilee tipped her head to the side, thinking for a moment. “Well, yes and no. I do think that Cantor’s second essay implied pretty clearly that the mind wasn’t separate from the body, but he did take a rather solid stance on Winter Wind’s homework.”

“Excuse me?” Gust said, his brow furrowing.

Cheerilee shook herself. “A solid stance on the elevated role of education and mental stimulation, I mean. He didn’t want ponies to neglect their bodies, but it does say that a fit body housing an undeveloped mind is like a beautiful but empty vase.”

“Right, but—” Gust went to sip his wine, but noticed that the glass was empty. Glancing at Cheerilee’s glass, he rose. “Looks like we need a refill. I’ll be back in a moment.”

The moment that Gust disappeared into the kitchen, Cheerilee dove for her saddlebag. Okay, just one question! Pulling out the pages, she flattened them out of the table with one hoof while digging out her quill wit the other. Now what did she have for the second question? Oh… Cheerilee frowned. It was always like this with the wrong answers. Her heart just felt a little heavier. What could she have done to make the correct one a little more memorable?

Why did she think that Princess Serenity brought knowledge to Equestria? Her name is Serenity, for pony’s sake. She’s the embodiment of peace! I thought the photo I had of the Canterlot frieze made that pretty clear, but I guess not. Hmmm.

Her eyes traveling down the page, Cheerilee brightened. But she got question three right, and that was a hard one! Licking the tip of her quill, she made a check mark on the page, then scrawled ‘Good job!’ next to it. She must have just gotten Princess Serenity mixed up with her daughter.

Cheerilee shuffled the front page of parchment to the back with practiced ease and absently tapped the feathery tip of the quill against her chin as she read. Name three things that Princess Serenity did that still impact Equestria today. A treaty with the griffon empire. That’s good. The Canterlot garden statue? Where did she get that from? Well, I guess we do still have it today and was commissioned in honor of Serenity, but that’s not exactly what I was going for… Half credit. What’s her third?

Cheerilee’s eyes jerked from the page as Gust cleared his throat pointedly. Scowling, he had his forelegs folded across his chest. “I don’t think this is going to work out.”

“What? No, I—” Cheerilee crammed the partially-graded homework back into the saddlebag “—I just thought I’d get a little work done while you were away.”

“This is not the ‘Now’, Cheerilee. I thought you’d understand, but you’re not living the moment.”

Cheerilee grit her teeth momentarily. “I wanted to take a look at your daughter’s homework and so I did. What could be more ‘in the moment’ than that?”

“Us!” Gust replied, passing a hoof back and forth between them, “Here, making a connection!”

Cheerilee set her hoof on her hip. “Oh, so the ‘Now’ only counts when you’re involved?”

Gust squeezed his eyes closed for a second. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I just think that you should be focusing on what’s important.”

“And that’s what here, exactly,” Cheerilee said, arching an eyebrow, “besides you?”

“Well…” Gust fidgeted for a moment. “Well, it is me, I guess, but I’m focusing on you because you’re the important thing to me.”

Cheerilee sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just… I have this thing about homework. I don’t like to leave papers ungraded, and they were right there!

“So what’s you're saying is that I’m always going to be second behind all of these distractions? Well, I’ve flown in that jetstream before. No thank you!”

Cheerilee hopped off the couch and scooped up her bag. “I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that.”

Gust rose and made his way to the door. “No, I suppose that I won’t. I think you should go now.”

Cheerilee threaded the saddlebag’s tip through the buckle. “Well, that’s one thing we agree on, at lea—”

The rest of the sentence was lost in the skyfall. Cheerilee was suddenly plummeting down through the clouds while Gust’s wide-eyed, shocked face rapidly receded. She kicked and flailed, searching for anything at all to hold onto. Far away, she thought that she could hear Gust shouting, but the rushing wind and blood pounding in her ears made understanding it impossible.

After glancing down, Cheerilee wished that she hadn’t. Equestria was both dizzyingly far away and approaching too quickly for any level of comfort. She ripped her eyes away from the toy-like scenery and focused back where she’d come from. Gust, his form tiny, was straining to catch up to her.

He’ll never get here in time! Cheerilee flailed a bit more, but only ended up sending herself into a spin. The sky and ground flipped each other over and over again. The phrase “terminal velocity’ kept raising to the forefront of her thoughts. If I run into Clover the Clever in the afterlife, I’m going to kick him in the teeth for his hospit—OOF!”

Stars swam before Cheerilee’s eyes, and her tongue throbbed where she’d apparently bitten it during the impact. Below her, a pegasus was sputtering out surprised curses, but gasped when Cheerilee grabbed ahold with as much strength as she could muster.

“Why don’t you watch out where you’re flying, Cheerilee?” Rainbow coughed out. “You could hurt somep—wait.” Rainbow twisted her neck around to get a better look. “Cheerilee? What are you doing up here?”

“Falling to my death, or I was until I ran into you!” Cheerilee tightened her grip, and Rainbow’s eyes bulged. “Could you take me down to the ground now? I think I owe you a dinner or something.”

“Sure thing,” Rainbow’s voice sounded strained, “but maybe loosen up a little, okay? I can barely breathe. How did you even get up here.”

“Well, I was having a glass of wine with Gust, but he kicked me out of his house.”

“I didn’t kick you out!” Gust said, finally catching up. “We agreed that you should leave!”

Rainbow tucked Cheerilee under a foreleg, and set her other hoof on her hip. “You numbskull! Were you raised on the ground or something? Every pegasus knows better than that!”

“I forgot that she was an earth pony! I’ve never dated one before! I was living in the moment, you know? Really feeling that argument! I just—”

“Oh, here we go!” Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Gust is back ‘in the moment.’”

“Could we put the earth pony back onto the earth now?” Cheerilee said. Tucked as she was under Rainbow’s leg, she dangled uncomfortably. The wide jigsaw of Ponyville’s agricultural region was interrupted by things like cloudtop and the top of soaring birds. Things that Cheerilee was feeling distinctly unsettled to be seeing.

“Yeah, just give me a sec, alright?” Rainbow replied. “I gotta get a few things into Gust’s thick skull before we go.”

Gust scowled at Rainbow. “Look, it’s not my fault you can’t get over me. I’ve been telling you forever that you need to be in the present instead of wallowing in the past or wishing about the future.”

“Can’t get over you?” Cheerilee’s stomach lurched when Rainbow swooped down to poke a hoof into Gust’s chest. “Buddy, I was over you the minute I figured out all of your ‘Now’ stuff just meant do whatever you wanted to do.”

“What we wanted to do!” Gust replied, batting her hoof away. “There I was, trying to bring us together, and it was always, ‘Oh, I gotta go practice!’ or ‘I have time trials!’ or I need to help save Equestria!’ Where’s the time for actually living?”

Rainbow brushed her bangs aside to glare at the stallion. “Hey, just because I wanted to be somepony…”

Cheerilee sighed. Below, she thought she could make out the tiny specks of happy earth ponies trotting back and forth on whatever missions the day had chosen for them. She reached out for the ground. It seemed so far away, but somehow almost within her grasp. Isn’t that just life, though? You just try to keep putting one hoof in front of the other, but what good does that do you at thirty thousand feet?

Above her, the argument roared on, but something tickled at the back of Cheerilee’s mind. Twisting, she worked her hoof back to the clasp on her bag. As it opened, she snatched her red quill out of the air and pulled out Winter’s assignment. Licking the neb again and gripping the wind-rustled pages tightly, she let her eyes travel down the page to question four. Well, might as well make the best of the time...

Date One - A Trip to Sugarcube Corner

Officer Turnkey sat down across from the weary mare, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and tapping them against the desk. “So, let’s go over this, Miss…”

“Cheerilee,” the mare answered miserably.

“Right,” the officer said, shaking out a cigarette. Raising his eyebrows, he glanced down at the pack and then to Cheerilee, offering the cigarette to the trembling teacher. “Smoke?”

“Oh, no! No,” Cheerilee answered, curling her lip slightly. “But thank you,” she continued, swallowing.

“Suit yourself,” the stallion said, shrugging. With practiced ease, he pulled out the cigarette and lit it, shaking out the match’s flame. Pulling out an ashtray, he casually tossed the blackened matchstick into it. “So tell me again, how did you two end up covered in frosting inside Sugarcube Corner at twelve-thirty in the morning?”

“I’ve already told—” Cheerilee spat at him before stopping to sigh. Looking at it from the police’s perspective, she couldn’t blame them. Even she couldn’t believe how the night had turned out. “Fine, whatever. Where do you want to start?”

“Let’s start with when you two got together,” Turnkey said, picking up his pen and twirling it in his hoof.

“Like I said before, we decided to meet up at Café Paitre for a late night dinner,” Cheerilee said, rubbing her aching forehead.

“It says here that you weren’t meeting until ten o’ clock,” Turnkey said, cocking an eyebrow at her. “That’s pretty late for a blind date, don’t you think?”

“I had papers to grade, and I wasn’t going to be done until then.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to just pick a different day?” Turnkey said, blowing out a thick cloud of smoke.

“I always have papers to grade!” Cheerilee snapped, rubbing her eyes. She’d been up nearly twenty-four hours at this point, and the constant smoking that these officers did was irritating her eyes.

“Whoa, there!” Turnkey said, throwing his hooves up to ward off her anger. “I’m just trying to get the facts straight.”

Setting her elbow on the desk, Cheerilee leaned her head on her hoof, cupping her cheek. “Yes, it was late, but that's when we both had time,” she said, staring off into the corner of the room. “Does that work for you?” she continued, flicking her eyes back to the husky officer and giving him a flat stare.

“Whatever you say, ma’am,” he said, tapping his pen against the table. “So then what happened?”

“We talked for a bit, and then we ordered some food.” Cheerilee rubbed her temples, half-hoping that she could erase the night’s events from her mind if she just massaged hard enough.

“And that’s where he tried to poison you?”

“NO!” the mare shouted, her eyes blazing. Turnkey rocked back in his chair. “I keep telling you ponies that he never tried to poison me! He wouldn’t have eaten the mushroom if he'd thought it was poisonous!”

“Okay, okay!” Turnkey said, stubbing out his cigarette and reaching for another. “Jeez, calm down, lady! The sooner we get this done, the sooner you can go home.”

“You’re the one who brought up poisoning!”

“Well, he was poisoned, lady!”

“It was an accident!” Cheerilee yelled, slamming her hoof on the desk. “He’s a botany grad student at Baltimare University and he’s here doing research for his thesis.”

“In Ponyville?” Turnkey said skeptically.

"Well, in the Everfree Forest. That’s where he got the mushroom,” Cheerilee said, sighing. “I told him that maybe he should check it before cutting it up and putting in his pasta, but he said he was sure that it was some gourmet delicacy.”

“And did he, or did he not, try to put this delicacy in your alfredo?”

“He offered to give me some, but I said no. It’s not like he tried to hide it in there!”

The officer stared at Cheerilee for a moment, tapping out an impatient rhythm on the desk with his pen. “And how long after this 'delicacy' did you say it took him to… um, 'freak out', as you put it?”

“As I also put it the first three times, about forty-five minutes. Right when dessert was being served.”

“And you said that his mind had been awakened to the cruelty that we as a species have inflicted on desserts, and he needed to… err… free them?”

Cheerilee lowered her head onto her hooves, closing her eyes as the nightmarish memory of the date played through her mind again. “Yes,” she said wearily. “He said he'd attained enlightenment and that it was time to right the great wrongs that we’d committed.”

“And how exactly did you respond to that?” Turnkey said, taking a deep drag on his cigarette and blowing the smoke out in rings.

“Look, I’m not an idiot,” Cheerilee said, rolling her eyes. “I went to college. I experimented. I could see that his pupils were over-dilated, even in that light. It wasn’t too difficult to put two and two together.”

“And then he broke into Sugarcube Corner?”

Cheerilee nodded glumly. “It’s right across the street. He said that he could hear the pastries crying out for freedom.”

“And you decided to help with this pastry prison break?”

“Of course not!” Cheerilee said, pursing her lips. “Don’t be an idiot! He was trying to break down my friend’s door. I was trying to calm him down and get him to go to the hospital!”

“But instead you went inside,” the officer said, doodling a stick figure pony into the edge of his report.

“No, I was dragged inside when he busted the door down!” Cheerilee exclaimed. “I was trying to pull him away, but he was too strong! He broke the door down and we flew into the display stand!” Cheerilee lowered her head to the desk, sighing in relief at the metal’s cool touch. “He hit the donuts and cakes at full tilt. There was frosting everywhere.”

“So you didn’t pay for your meal at Café Paitre, I take it?” Turnkey said, leaning forward and pointing his pen at her.

“Oh, for pete’s sake...”

Author's Note

Hi, and thanks for reading this.

I just wanted to add a note here about this story's future. People ask quite often if this is really going to be a thousand chapters long or not. The truth is that I have no idea, but probably not. That's an extremely large number. It would take years and years to create. However, I'm also not planning on NOT written them.

The plan here is to write this until:

A) I'm sick of it
B) You guys are sick of it
C) And/or it's just not funny anymore

I'd like to make it to at least two hundred. If I'm tired of it at that point, I'd probably open it up to see if other people wanted to get in on it. If it's a group project, it might actually get to be a thousand chapters. But there you go. That's the plan.

Date Four - A Flight to Remember

Mrs. Cake leaned through the doorway that separated Sugarcube Corner’s kitchen and sales room as the bell above the bakery’s entrance rang merrily. “Oh, hello, Bon Bon!” the baker called, wiping her flour-dusted hooves on her apron. “You’re here for those petit fours, aren’t you?”

“Are they ready?” Bon Bon asked. “I know I’m a little early, but I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d pop in and see. I can come back…”

“Oh, heavens, no! Don’t do that!” Cup said, disappearing into the kitchen again. “I finished them a little earlier this morning.” As the sounds of clattering and loud banging emanated from the kitchen, Bon Bon stretched her neck over the counter, trying to get a peek at whatever it was the baker was doing in there.

Sweating lightly, Mrs. Cake finally returned. “Here you go!” she said, grinning.

“What was all that racket?” Bon Bon asked, loading the box into her saddlebags.

“Oh, well… We chain the storage areas now, you see,” Cup said, rolling her eyes.

“Pinkie?” Bon Bon said.

“Pinkie,” Cup answered with a sigh. “Honestly, she’s loads better than she used to be, but after that disaster with the Founder’s Day celebration, Carrot’s not taking any chances.”

Bon Bon leaned over the counter conspiratorially, cupping a hoof around the baker’s ear. “Speaking of disasters, did you hear about Cheerilee?”

Cup’s eyes dilated rapidly. “No!” she breathed. “What happened?!”

“More like ‘what didn’t happen’!” Bon Bon returned, covering her mouth to suppress the giggles.

“Well, come on!” Mrs. Cake said, stomping a hoof in mock irritation. “Don’t make me beg! I’ve been trapped in here all day on Pinkie duty!”

“She went out with Caramel for a late picnic lunch yesterday,” Bon Bon said, twisting her head left and right to scan the room for whatever eavesdroppers might be lurking there.

“And…” Cup prompted. Everypony knew Caramel was a little light upstairs, but just going out with him shouldn’t have facilitated a full-scale whisper conference from Bon Bon.

“Well, I bumped into Redheart earlier today and she told me the whole thing!” Bon Bon said, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “It seems that Caramel really pulled out all the stops. He had the baguettes, a wine and cheese platter, a little basket… the whole works!”

“Oh, that’s right!” Cup gasped, bringing a hoof to her mouth. “He stopped in here yesterday for a small coffee cake!”

“Anyway,” Bon Bon said, warming to the story-telling, “he’d apparently read The Big Book of Obscure Romantic Outings or something because he brought this huge kite along. He said that he thought it would be a real memory-maker if they flew it together.” Bon Bon paused to snigger. “Turns out he was right!”

“Oh, I remember!” Cup said, looking up and away as she cast her mind back in time. “His father used to make these wonderful kites! He was known all over Equestria for them! I think he even won a bunch of awards.”

“Caramel apparently brought the biggest, most impressive one, if Redheart’s word is to be trusted,” Bon Bon chuckled. “I guess he’s really had this thing for Cheerilee for a while, and he wanted to impress her!”

“So what happened?” Cup breathed, leaning in close.

“Well, Caramel was right about one thing: It took both of them to get it into the air!” Bon Bon said, her eyes sparkling. “Apparently, it was so big that they both had to run side by side to launch it. Then, they both had to keep their hooves on the spool to keep it on the ground.”

“Oh, dear! But it was so windy yesterday!” Cup said, involuntarily cringing.

“Yeah,” Bon Bon replied. “Redheart said that Caramel thought it would help out.”

“Oh, dear…” Cup said again, already way ahead of the story. “He never has been the brightest, has he? But why did Cheerilee go along with something like that? She’s always had such a good head on her shoulders.”

“Caramel told Redheart that when the wind really started to pick up, Cheerilee had tried to get him to let the kite go, but you know Caramel,” Bon Bon replied. “That was his father’s prized kite, and he wasn’t about to lose it.” Bon Bon leaned against the display stand, resting an elbow atop its glass countertop. “Then the wind pulled them off balance, and they tripped.”

“Ohhhhhh, dear.”

“So, they fell and the spool got away from them,” Bon Bon said with relish, “but I guess Caramel ended up throwing it backwards in the confusion and they got all tangled up in the line!”

“No!” Cup gasped, her eyes growing huge as she cupped her cheeks with her hooves.

“Yes!” Bon Bon replied, nodding. “Soon, they were both airborne, and the kite was pulling them directly into town! Applejack said they plowed right through her fruit stand, and I heard from the mayor that the kite dragged them through the wet cement foundation the city is laying down for that new community center!”

“Oh, no!” Cup moaned. “Are they okay?”

“Well, Cheerilee’s fine,” Bon Bon said, shrugging, “but poor Caramel is banged up pretty bad. Redheart said that he was lower to the ground than Cheerilee was, so he took the brunt of it. Nothing broken, but he’ll be in the hospital for a few days.”

“So what finally stopped them?” Cup asked.

“You know that huge pile of manure the Apples keep on the southern edge of Sweet Apple Acres?” Bon Bon returned, fighting to keep a straight face.

“NO!” Cup shouted, aghast.

Bon Bon just nodded, her snorting giggles making speech impossible for the moment.

“Ohhhhhhhh, dear!” Cup sighed. “I’d better whip up a Get Well basket for the two of them.”

“We’re planning a night out for Cheerilee once she’s released from the hospital,” Bon Bon said, shaking her head. “Redheart said that she’s fine, but they want to keep her there for observation for a bit, just to make sure.”

“Oh, the poor darling,” Cup said sadly. “She really has had a time of it, hasn’t she?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it!” Bon Bon replied as she opened the baker’s door and stepped out onto the busy street.

Date Nineteen - An Affair to Forget (Guest Chapter by Jondor)

A Guest Chapter written by Jondor

Cheerilee looked over the crowd from behind her mask. In a corner of the hall, the quartet began to play a waltz and masked ponies from all across the room began flocking to the dance floor. Cheerilee’s eyes drifted over the few scattered stragglers, mare and stallion alike, still lingering in the wings.

She sipped her wine, wondering if the night had been worth it. After a day at the spa and much lamenting over her horrid love life, Rarity had insisted on obtaining an invitation for her. Fresh faces at a masquerade ball in Manehatten had seemed like a good idea at the time, but Cheerilee was doubting the wisdom after nearly two hours and no luck.

Fresh faces weren’t much use when everypony was masked, and rich Manehattenites weren’t good company unless you liked snobby snootiness. Cheerilee sighed and set down her nearly empty wine glass, intent on leaving.

She heard a crack of breaking glass and swore loudly as the stem of her glass broke, splashing the last of her drink over her foreleg. Several ponies turned to sneer at her outburst, but one in particular caught her eye.

Her blue eyes twinkled behind her mask and her bright pink ponytail bounced against her withers as she trotted closer. Her dress was provocative rather than elegant, and was barely long enough to cover her cutie mark, showing off her hind legs and her long, pink tail. This was no snooty Manehattenite.

Cheerilee quickly wiped away the wine and did a little fast primping of her mane and dress. Rarity had insisted on not only lending her the outfit for the evening, but also took time to style her mane into large, elegant curls that emphasized the lighter whitish shades in order to match the dress. Cheerilee barely recognized her own reflection.

“Hey, there.” The pink-maned mare slid smoothly into the opposite chair at Cheerilee’s table. “I’m guessing you’re not from around here.”

Cheerilee blinked, still temporarily dumbstruck, and then smiled. “What gave me away?” She asked, winking and giving her curls a playful bounce.

“Little things. Your lack of unnecessarily expensive jewelry. Your colorful choice of words. The fact that you didn’t even bat an eye when another mare came over and started hitting on you.” One blue eye winked at her from behind that intricate mask.

Cheerilee giggled. “It’s true. Any other mare in here would be utterly scandalized.” Somewhere in the back of her mind, Cheerilee couldn’t shake the feeling that this mare’s voice sounded familiar, but she was quite mesmerized and disarmed by her simple, but highly charismatic charm.

“Since I’m not supposed to ask where you’re from, how about I ask you for a dance instead?” The mare extended a tan hoof across the table and fluttered her lashes behind her mask as an up tempo song began to be played. “Unless that would be too scandalous.”

Cheerilee hesitated a moment at the mention of the masquerade’s rules. It was a shame and just her luck that she wasn’t supposed to ask any personal questions or even properly see this charming mare’s face, but she grinned and winked anyway, taking her proffered hoof and standing.

The two mares joined the other couples on the dance floor and took each other’s hooves, dancing together in defiance of the stares and gasps of the other guests. Song after song they danced with each other, holding each other closer and closer as the night wore on. They completely ignored all of the sidelong glances they continued to receive from the glowering Manehattenites.

Some time later, the two mares ended up alone on the patio, gazing up at the night sky as they stood pressed close together and gently nuzzling against each other.

“To think I was about to leave before you came over. I would have missed out on such a wonderful night. Thank you.” Cheerilee sighed happily.

“No. Thank you,” the mare replied, raising a hoof to wrap around Cheerilee’s withers. “You were a much better dancer than any of those starch-collared stallions.” She ran a hoof along the edge of Cheerilee’s curls, drawing her attention. “And much better looking.”

Cheerilee held her breath and parted her lips just a touch as the other mare leaned in slowly, giving her time to refuse. She accepted the kiss gratefully and gave as good as she got.

Long moments later they finally broke apart. As they pulled back, their masks caught against one another and pulled away from their faces just a touch before coming free and snapping back. Both mares rubbed their noses, giggling and blushing.

Returning her hoof to the ground, Cheerilee sighed audibly. Her lips suddenly curled into a frown. “The night is almost over and it’s just my luck that the one time I meet a wonderful partner, it’s at a masquerade with silly rules that keep me from ever seeing her again.”

“I don’t see why not,” her partner countered. “I doubt they’re going to invite either of us back after tonight.”

Cheerilee’s eyes widened for a moment, considering the possibility. Then she nodded and both mares removed their masks.

As she focused on and recognized her dance partner, her eyes widened in surprise.

“Mayor Mare?”

Cheerilee’s eyes roamed over the young mare before her. Without her glasses and her mane dyed prematurely grey, she looked much more like a filly just out of college than the venerable, middle-aged statesmare she appeared as in town.

The mayor, however, looked on in shocked horror, eyes bugged out and mouth agape.

“Cheerilee?!” Her voice was shrill and piercing. “Nononono, this can’t be happening!”

“What’s wrong, Ms. Mayor?” Cheerilee chided herself internally for slipping into her public servant mode when the mayor was obviously trying to avoid her public persona tonight.

“What’s wrong?!” she shrieked, hyperventilating. “Can you imagine the scandal?! Everypony will be up in arms! The Ponyville Express will run slanderous stories for a month or more!”

“I’m sure it can’t be that bad. After all the disasters and invasions we’ve survived, nopony is going to bat an eye at the mayor dating the schoolteacher.” Cheerilee reassured, reaching out a hoof to pat her shoulder.

The mayor took no notice of her words, continuing to rant. “They’ll think it’s some sort of tax scam! I’ll be audited, blacklisted, condemned, and deposed! I’ll have to move to Las Pegasus, get cutie mark alteration surgery, and hope to live it down!”

Mayor Mare stopped suddenly, her eyes coming to rest on the gentle hoof stroking her shoulder. She froze for a moment, then let out a scream of terror, vaulted over the patio railing, and bolted into the night.

Cheerilee wondered and puzzled at the mayor’s behavior, not even moving until a stallion poked his head out of the door and spoke. “Madam, I heard shouting, are you alright?”

“Just wonderful.” Cheerilee replied through gritted teeth, turning to walk back inside.

“You aren’t supposed to take off your mask!” he exclaimed, catching sight of her bare face. “Nopony is to know your identity, that is the whole point.”

“Don’t remind me,” Cheerilee growled as she stomped past him, back to the bar.

Date Forty-One - Adding to the Problem

Cheerilee fished out a compact from her bag and gave herself a final, pre-date once-over. Hair’s good. Eyeliner’s perfect, for once. No blemishes. She nodded, then closed the compact with a definitive snap. I hope you’re ready, ’cause here I come! Grinning, she knocked on the door.

“Um… just a second!” a slightly surprised voice called from somewhere inside.

“Sorry!” Cheerilee replied through the door. “I might be a little early.”

The door handle jiggled a few times. “Oh, for the love of—sorry, I’ll have to bite it. One more second, please.”

Cheerilee craned her neck, peeking around the door as it opened. On the other side, a somewhat flustered blue stallion had his teeth locked on the doorknob. His forelegs were covered in soapsuds, and behind him, a trail of bubbles led deeper into the house.

Noteworthy held up a soapy hoof. “Sorry. I couldn’t get a good grip.”

Cheerilee’s eyes widened, and she covered her mouth with a hoof. “Oh, I’m way too early, aren’t I? I am so sorry! I knew I should have asked Twilight what time it was when I left the library.”

“No problem at all. I’m just finishing with the dishes.” Stepping aside, he frowned at the slippery patches on the floor. “Come on in, but watch your step.”

Picking her way carefully through the foyer, Cheerilee followed Noteworthy into a spacious kitchen. “Do you have a hoof towel? I’ll wipe this up while you finish your dishes.”

Noteworthy held up his hoof. “No need, Cheerilee. Just have a—”

“No, I insist,” Cheerilee replied, shaking her head. “It’s my fault that you tracked water through your house.”

“You sure?” When Cheerilee nodded, Noteworthy opened a drawer and tossed her a towel edged in tiny bass and treble clefs. “Well… thanks! I only have a couple of plates left. I’ll come help you after that. Share the load, you know?”

Cheerilee caught the towel and stepped back into the hallway. “I wish you’d come teach that to the foals. They’re so mean to each other sometimes.”

The sound of sloshing water floated out of the kitchen. “It’s something I really believe in. We need to be more community-minded. I mean, Ponyville’s actually pretty good about it, but we could be a lot better.”

Humming, Cheerilee mopped up the first of the small soapy pools. Can’t leave any residue. This hardwood will get slippery. She ran a hoof over the wood, nodding when it squeaked. “So what’s the plan tonight?” Cheerilee called back over her shoulder.

Noteworthy trotted into the hall with a towel draped around his neck. “I thought we’d head over to Deal-icious Dizzy’s for a bite to eat. Then I figured we could talk about where to go next. Pellet just opened up a paintball arena on his property. That could be fun. Or maybe karaoke, if we’re not feeling up to it.”

“Dizzy’s?” Cheerilee’s brow furrowed. “The all-you-can-eat place? Isn’t that a bit much for the two of us?”

Noteworthy knelt down beside Cheerilee and started on another puddle. Their shoulders were nearly touching, and she could smell a hint of cologne mixed with a certain natural spiciness that cause her to shiver. She felt herself flush when he smiled at her.

“Well, you see, that’s just it. We—”

There was a knock at the door.

Noteworthy hopped up. “Just a sec!” Dropping his towel onto another puddle, the stallion trotted to the door.

Golden Harvest beamed at him as the door opened. “Hi! I hope I’m not too—Cheerilee!” Golden tilted her head to the side, blinking at the teacher for a few seconds. “I didn’t know you were doing housecleaning on the side.”

Cheerilee held up a hoof. “No, it’s not like that. I just felt bad for making Note track soapy water all over his hallway because I got here too early.”

Golden’s eyes hesitantly tracked back and forth between the two ponies before settling on Cheerilee. She licked her lips nervously. “Oh, okay. So, uh, what brings you here?”

Cheerilee pursed her lips. Something didn’t feel right. “Well, Note and I are about to head out for a date, and—”

“What do you mean, you’re going out with him? I’m going out with him!”

Both mares swiveled their heads in unison, glaring at the stallion.

Noteworthy smile spoke of desperate, but fading, hope. He licked his lips. “Well, I got to thinking the other day that if I can show one mare a good time, then—”

There was a knock at the door.

“Just a second!” Noteworthy pointed a spot next to Cheerilee and grinned at Golden Harvest. “Sorry, but could I get you to scoot in a little bit?”

Golden stared back at the stallion for a moment before stomping to Cheerilee’s side.

“Thanks!” Noteworthy pulled the door open.

“Hey!” Daisy said, tossing her mane out of her eyes. “So nice to—hey, girls!” Daisy stepped inside and dropped her saddlebags on the floor. “What are you two doing here?”

Golden Harvest’s eye twitched.

Cheerilee gave Noteworthy a flat stare. “Really?”

“Really what?” Daisy said, her smile fading.

Cheerilee rolled her eyes. “Oh, nothing. Noteworthy here’s just really into sharing. He’s so generous that he’s invited every available mare in Ponyville out tonight.”

Daisy’s mane bristled. “What?!” she said, her voice ratcheting up a few octaves.

Noteworthy backed up a few steps and held his hooves up. “Hey, now! Let’s not get overly excited. I just thought we’d all have a great time out together.” He turned to the teacher, tilting his head to the side. “Of all ponies, Cheerilee, I’d think you’d understand. Historically, ponies have lived in herds, and—”

“Yes. Yes, they did…” Cheerilee threw her hooves up. “Eighteen centuries ago!”

Daisy advanced on the stallion, teeth bared. “Are you out of your mind?”

A bead of sweat rolled down Noteworthy’s brow and hung off his jaw before dropping to the floor with a soft plip. “Well, I don’t see what the big deal—”

There was a knock at the door.

Noteworthy wilted under the frosty glares. “Just a sec!”

Daisy skipped back as the door flew open. “No need to fuss. I’ll show m’self in.” Granny Smith’s knees creaked as she stepped inside. “Reckon I’m a little early, but that just means we can get goin’—” Granny Smith froze. “What in tarnation are y’all doin’ here? Don’t y’all know a date when you see one? Skedaddle!”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Golden Harvest replied, glancing sideways at the sweating stallion.

Cheerilee nodded. “Yes, I think he’s all yours.”

“Darn tootin’, he is!” Granny Smith edged her way in slowly and planted a peck on Noteworthy’s cheek. “Awful funny time to have company over, but I guess the apple falls different from every tree.”

Daisy sat and crossed her legs tightly across her chest. “I spent thirty bits on this mane cut, you know,” she said, shooting daggers at the stallion. “Thirty. Bits. Just for tonight.”

Granny Smith squinted at the mare. “Sounds pretty fancy for just droppin’ by. You got designs on my stallion, young’un? Well, back off!” She rose on unsteady hind legs and balled her hooves before her. “I don’t cotton to date rustlers!”

Daisy threw her hoof out beside her. “Well, he asked me out tonight!”

“And us, too,” Cheerilee said, passing a hoof back and forth between Golden Harvest and herself.

Granny Smith whirled and fixed Noteworthy with a single beady eye. “That so?”

“Heh-heh,” Noteworthy said, scratching his mane. “The more the merrier, right?”

Granny Smith balled her hoof again. “I wonder if that holds true with bruises, too…”

Noteworthy backed away from the advancing mares until his rump hit a corner. “Now, if you’d all just keep an open mind, we could—”

There was a knock at the door.

Cheerilee stomped a hoof. “Sweet Celestia… How many mare’s did you ask out?”

Noteworthy swallowed hard. Sweat ran freely down his cheeks now, forming yet another puddle on the foyer floor. “Um… Twelve…ish…”

Daisy threw her saddlebag over her hips, and then wrenched the door open. “Well, I think you’re probably down to eight, at least.”

Sassaflash blinked back at her. “Uh, what?”

Cheerilee edged past the mares. “You here for a date tonight?”

Sassaflash nodded slowly, her wary eyes moving from mare to mare.

Cheerilee pointed to Derpy, who was just trotting through the gate. “Well, take a number. There’s a lot of that going around.”

Date Forty-Five - The Right End of the Wrong Stick (Guest Chapter by InquisitorM)

Guest Chapter by Inquisitor M

Cheerilee’s ears pricked up. The world outside was dark, oppressive, cloying, and smelled oddly of tiramisu.

She spasmed and thrashed, throwing off the duvet and sitting up, panting, on the bed. Sunlight streamed in through the open curtains and her pillows lay haphazardly at opposite ends of her bedroom.

It didn’t take a schoolteacher to conclude that she was forgetting something. She rubbed her eyes, stretched, and the fog of sleep slowly made way to a thumping of blood that threatened to burst her brain like a balloon.

What in Equestria did I…

A letter still sat on her sideboard: an old date request that had ‘delusional dork’ written all over it. She’d gone to see Twilight—well, snuck in to see Twilight would be more appropriate, accompanied by an imagined lecture by an equally imagined mother about how low her daughter had sunk to be sneaking around out of shame.

Cheerilee dove face-first into where the pillows should have been.

“Ow.”

Rubbing her snout, she looked back to the sideboard. The nail in the coffin had been signing off as what was probably his roleplay-character’s ‘class’. Yet, Shining Armour was rumored to be just such a dork and he had always seemed okay, so she’d implored Twilight for advice on exactly how crazy she’d have to be to consider dating the author of this particular letter.

Twilight’s vitriolic reaction to the mere mention of her brother’s friends, the ‘nerd patrol’ as she called it, confirmed all of Cheerilee’s suspicions. Granted, there was some chance that a full fifteen-minute aside about some long-standing feud over the relative merits and statistical probabilities of two-dee-six versus dee-twelve—whatever that meant—implied she might have had more in common with them that she was willing to admit to, but then, Cheerilee didn’t want to date her, either.

Then… what happened then? She’d said something that made Twilight scoop her up in her magic and race out the door. The memory was fuzzy. Probably due to having her head clouted against the doorframe on the way out. That explained the headache, at least.

Cheerilee’s ears pricked up again: somepony was knocking at her front door.

She quickly ruffled her mane and sped downstairs. Behind the door stood a strapping young pegasus wearing the waistcoat of a royal courier.

“Would you be Miss Cheerilee?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Special delivery from the office of Her Majesty, Princess Luna.”

If the colt looked slightly confused, it was probably because she was staring at him with her mouth hanging wide open.

She was still staring a moment later, too, give or take an uncomfortable minute for the courier.

He placed the letter between her teeth and gently drew her jaw up with a hoof.

At some point he flew away, but that wasn’t important right now.

Twilight had run straight to Rarity’s and explained everything—including the embarrassing parts. And then… and then Rarity had guessed his name. Rarity knew who this stallion was: not some closeted nerd in need of a good talking to about how much of a catch he really wasn’t, but a genuine paladin—an ex-guard sworn into Princess Luna’s personal service!

And not just a courteous, disciplined, intelligent ex-guard, either; if Rarity’s enthusiasm counted for anything, he was the kind of handsome, rippling-muscled Adonis that had mares swooning in droves—the kind just asking to have his haunches shaved so that a mare could melt ice-cream on its hotness and spend several hours licking it back off.

“Oh!” Cheerilee said, still staring through the empty doorway.

There had been something of an impromptu celebration involving a sugar rush from endless quantities of tiramisu—quantities that might make for an interesting and awkward question to ask Rarity someday—and an emergency letter being drafted without her knowledge and sent by—

She dropped to the floor, the letter falling from her mouth. Several long breaths later, the room finally stopped spinning.

Twilight had taken the scroll away to send via Princess Celestia.

Cheerilee gulped: the letter before her bore a crescent-moon seal. Having friends in high places, while certainly useful, could also induce sphincter-clenching terror, it seemed.

Pulling gently on the seal, she opened the envelope and carefully withdrew the letter inside: To Miss Cheerilee. I need to see you. If you can, meet me at the Runaway’s Hill outside Ponyville at 4pm. Yours, Paladin Seeker.

She looked up at the clock. Eleven-thirty. Last night’s sugar-fuelled coma had wasted the entire morning. She breathed on her hoof and wafted it under her nose.

Tiramisu.

Still. That didn’t matter.

“A date!” Cheerilee sprang to her hooves and ran around the room. “A gorgeous date that comes with references!” She stopped in front of a framed picture of her mother.

“Suck it, mom! I have a hot date!”

She gave it a big, lip-smacking kiss and charged upstairs.

~~~

Cheerilee paced back and forth. Maybe being fifteen minutes early wasn’t such a good idea after all: the wind out on Runaway’s Hill was doing horrible things to her freshly-fluffed mane.

She stopped, taking a few long breaths as a shadow passed over her. A steel-grey pegasus swooped down and slammed into the ground, his toned legs rippling under his immaculately groomed coat.

“Hello,” Cheerilee squeaked, her whole face flushing as she tried desperately not to think about ice cream.

The stallion fanned his wings and stretched each leg and shoulder in turn as two dozen butterflies gently kissed Cheerilee’s insides.

“Miss Cheerilee, my name is Seeker—” the pegasus bowed deeply “—paladin in the service of Princess Luna.”

His voice was confident and strong, but the smile set into his exquisitely-chiselled muzzle carried a formal air, rather than a warm one.

“I’m afraid there has been a mistake, and I came to correct it personally.”

Cheerilee froze as the butterflies sprouted teeth.

“No?” she replied in another high pitched squeak.

Seeker raised an eyebrow. “No?”

“No… please?” she said. It was a little less squeaky, but carried a tremble that quickly spread to her legs, and her lips. “Pretty please?”

“I am sorry,” the paladin continued. “It seems that you have been the victim of an abhorrent lapse of judgement. A prank, if you will.”

“No,” Cheerilee said again, weakly, grinding her teeth as her head drooped.

“The letter you received was not sent by me, but by the unicorn you will see approaching from your right.”

Sure enough, a brown, plain-looking stallion jogged, puffing and flushed, across the empty field towards them.

“No!” Cheerilee stamped a hoof on the ground. “No, no, no, no!” She stamped both hooves a few time more. “It’s not fair!”

She fumed in silence, growling with each breath, until the unicorn arrived and collapsed onto the grass, heaving and groaning.

“How could you!”

“My lady,” he said between breaths, “I am a… horrible… excuse for… a unicorn… and I sss… submit myself… to your… punishment…”

“He might require a few hours to be of any use,” Seeker said, stepping beside Cheerilee and making her skin tingle as their coats brushed. “I made him run all the way here from Canterlot. He thought it would be funny to set me up on a blind date under false pretences. While I am disturbed by his disrespect for my lack of eligibility, involving you is a far more egregious offence, so I leave the nature of his restitution in your hooves.”

“I’m sorry for shouting,” Cheerilee said quietly, ears folded down.

“Don’t be. Vanilla is stripped of all rank and privilege until I hear that you are…” The stallion leaned in. “…Satisfied. Thoroughly and deeply”—she shuddered—“satisfied with his long and impassioned apology.”

The smell of him reached her and she couldn’t help but sniff: oils, cologne, sweat.

“I’m dying,” the still-puffing unicorn wailed. “Everything’s going dark!”

“Shut up, Vanilla. You don’t have permission to die yet.” Seeker smirked and gave Cheerilee a wink. He leaned closed closer and whispered tantalisingly into her ear…

“Oh!” she squeaked, blushing profusely.

Seeker stepped to one side, lifted one of Cheerilee’s hoofs, kissed it gently, then took to the air with a mighty leap.

She rubbed one leg against the back of the other, grinning like a schoolfilly.

“Oh woe is me!” Vanilla waved his hooves through the air melodramatically. “Abandoned to the pits of my own folly! Woe is me!”

Her grin faded, replaced by a deep scowl.

“Oh, shut up, Vanilla. You don’t have my permission to die yet, either.”

~~~

Amethyst Star flopped sideways onto Cheerilee’s shoulder, releasing a long moan from deep in her throat.

“So… good...”

Cheerilee wrapped a leg around her friend and massaged her own, bloated belly.

“Oh the horror!” Meadowbreeze shouted, mock-fainting and holding out a hoof towards the table full of emptied plates.

Lily, spread across a long couch, feebly waved a hoof in her friend’s direction. “Urgh. Don’t make me come over there and hug you,” she said, slurring the words. “I think I might explode.”

The other three mares giggled together, and Amethyst cuddled into Cheerilee’s chest. “Thanks for inviting us, Cheri. I needed this.”

“Yeah, I needed this too,” she replied, a warm smile spreading across her face. “And not just the food, or the dancing, or the unimaginably expensive wine.” She hugged the mare pressed against her and sighed. “I can always trust you girls to get me through. So what do we think? Is his indentured servitude over or shall we stretch it to a another picnic tomorrow?”

“What was that about dentures?” Amethyst said.

“Uuuungh,” Lilly added.

Meadowbreeze giggled. “Definitely. Can I have him when you’re done with his punishment? I love a stallion that can make me laugh.”

The door to the kitchen flew open, and a sweaty, grease-stained unicorn wearing a ‘Don’t Kill The Chef’ apron plodded in with another plate of food. “Meadowbreeze,” he said with a frown, “I’m increasingly of the opinion you’d be happy with any stallion sufficiently tied up.”

Meadowbreeze burst into raucous laughter, but Amethyst’s horn glowed and a rolled-up paper flew over and swatted the stallion on the nose.

“Bad pony! No having fun. Bad. Pony!”

Vanilla prostrated himself and covered his head with his hooves.

“Yes Mistress! Sorry Mistress! Bad pony!”

A few more swats and the attack ceased. He lifted a leg and cracked an eye wide open.

“So… uhh, now that you’ve had your third helping of your second main course, can I start on desserts? I have a lovely tiramis—”

“No!”