A Weird Life

In the early afternoon, Spike worked alone in the library. The little purple dragon worked the duster over the shelves of books and hummed to himself a jaunty tune. The front door opened, and in walked Twilight and Rarity.

“Have a nice time at the spa?” Spike asked, staying focused on the shelves.

Twilight levitated off her saddlebags and unceremoniously dropped them off to the side. She trudged across the room over to a couch and flopped onto her stomach.

“What’s up with you?”

“The Spa sisters asked about you-know-who,” Rarity said.

“And that’s worse than usual because?” Spike walked over to Rarity and folded his arms.

In the weeks since the fight at the Rusty Horseshoe, word had spread that the new princess had been involved. When Twilight tried explaining that she only went back for her friends, a few ponies asked if that extended to the creature the Bearers had been seen talking to before the fight broke out. Twilight had responded in a less-than-composed manner and denied it. Naturally, the gossip mill smelled blood in the water and started churning out rumors about what the Princess had to do with a mysterious stranger.

“The sisters don’t usually ask their customers about their personal lives based on gossip. It’s bad for business. For the sisters to ask means it’s starting to be taken at face value.” Rarity rolled her hoof in the air. “More or less.”

“Shouldn’t this have blown over by now?”

“A princess possibly hiding her gentlecolt caller is just too big of news to let go that easily, I’m afraid.”

Twilight subconsciously flicked her ears at ‘gentlecolt caller’. Part of her would’ve preferred the rumor had to do with interdimensional aliens.

“Quite honestly, I’m surprised the tabloids haven’t come snooping around.”

Spike and Rarity paused, each in their own thoughts. Swarms of money-grubbing, unscrupulous reporters and photographers flocking to Ponyville. All of them clamoring to catch Twilight with her secret boyfriend, hoping to get the all-important money shot. Whether that phrase was nonsexual or yes-sexual would depend on which reporter you asked.

“What are you guys going to do, then?” Spike asked.

Twilight stifled a sigh. A princess’ work was never done. “Rarity, can you do me a favor?” Rarity nodded. “Go see if Fluttershy can meet me out to the farm.”

Twilight stepped outside and wobbled into the sky. She still had a ways to go towards calling herself a capable flier. Regardless, the joy of the wind through her wings was hard to deny, and it allowed her mind to drift off her current predicament.

“Princess!” Thunderlane called out. He zipped her way, closing in from behind her.

Twilight didn’t immediately recognize the voice; a sense of dread welled up at the prospect of another curious gossiper.

“Princess Tw—.”

“I am not having an affair! So why don’t you f—.” Twilight spun around. “Oh! Thunderlane, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you.”

Thunderlane waved her off, unworried as ever. “No prob’s, Princess.”

She returned to heading for the farm, with Thunderlane following along. “Thunderlane, you can just call me Twilight. I prefer it, in fact.”

“Aw, sweet! I’m on a name-to-name basis with a princess.”

The excitement he extolled brought a ruby tint to her cheeks. “What can I do for you?”

“I saw you heading out toward the country and was wondering if you were going to see Scott.”

“Yes I am. Why?”

“Called it. I better go with you,” he said. “You know, just in case he tries something.”

She eyed him up and down. Thunderlane had always stood in stark contrast to Lucky and Caramel. The two less than thrilled, at being dragged into one of the Bearer’s escapades. They wanted as little to do with their guest as possible.

“So the real reason is…?”

“Trying to get out of work.”

“Ah.”

Scott sat in the kitchen of the Apple home. Meanwhile, Applejack moved about the messy countertops and cooked up baked goods. Caramel bubbled on the stove while bowls and eggshells littered the flour-covered countertop. The kitchen was awash with the smell of half-finished foodstuffs.

“—and this here is an old family fritter recipe.” Applejack grasped a ladle between her fetlock, pouring a dollop of gooey filling onto toasted pastry squares. “Great-great-uncle Apple Seed won it in a game of kur-noodle. That’s a game where ya stand one hoof and—.”

Scott found there were a few niceties of talking with Applejack as opposed to Big Mac. The big pony could be difficult to read and quiet. The lack of feedback, at times, made conversation clumsy and awkward.

“—an’ ponies from all over Equestria would come ta watch old Blacksmith kur-noodle. Then one day, old great-great-uncle Apple Seed shows up—.”

Applejack was more transparent and energetic. The adventures she’d gone on and places she’d traveled gave her a veritable cornucopia of interesting stories.

“—ya never seen so many shucked chickens. Ponies were a hootin’ an’ a hollerin’ something fierce by the time they reached the pig flagon—.”

The flipside was Applejack had a terrible habit of talking at him instead of with him. Years of one-sided discussions with Big Mac had taken their toll. In these moments, Scott simply bounced in and out of the conversation, to preserve his daily limit of fucks-to-give.

“—do ya know what old great-great-uncle Apple Seed said?”

“I do not.”

“He said ‘that’s how a boat sails.’!” She laughed. “Can ya believe it?”

“I can’t believe I made it through that whole story without slitting my wrists.”

Applejack narrowed her eyes and clicked her tongue. She shoved a bowl into his chest, saying, “Here, make yerself useful an’ beat these eggs.”

Whisk and bowl in hand, Scott did as he was told. A few quick sifts and the whisk broke up the yolks, leaving a uniform yellow liquid. Unfortunately, he developed the motor-skills of an orangutan with cerebral palsy anytime he had anything to do with cooking.

“Scott, Ah said beat ‘em, not sling ‘em everywhere.”

“I’ve never beaten eggs. So sue me.”

“Sorry, Ah didn’t know ya’d never beat anything ‘sides yer dick.”

Scott gave a small smile. “That’s not true. I can also beat faces. Wanna see?”

Applejack took the bowl from him with a good-natured smirk. The eggs went into a bowl of flour before she pointed at the stove, saying, “Ya think you can manage ta take out those pies an’ mix this? Ah gotta hit the little fillies’ room.”

“You have fire insurance, right?”

“Y’all’ll be alright. Ah got faith in ya.” She trotted off for the stairs. “Misplaced as it is.”

“I heard that.”

“Don’t care,” she called down from the stairs.

Having pulled the pies out, he grabbed a hand-crank egg beater. The mix of flour and egg churned to a pale paste with the steady clackity-clack of the beater.  He jerked his gaze up to the front door at the sound of a knock.

“Hellooo,” Twilight sing-songed as she and Thunderlane trotted in.

“Hey, what’s up, you guys?” Scott grinned.

“’Sup, Bro-heim.” Thunderlane hoof-bumped Scott. “I thought I’d come along with the Princess— I mean, Twilight” --he winked at her-- “and see what’s up?”

“You’re looking at it. Pretty slow day around here.”

“Is Applejack here?” Twilight asked.

“Bathroom,” he said. “So what have you been up to?”

While they waited for Applejack, Twilight and Scott made small talk. Thunderlane, meanwhile, edged closer and closer to Scott while staring. Eventually, he stood uncomfortably close to him; Scott tried desperately to ignore him.

“Thunderlane? Um, what are you doing?” Twilight asked.

“I’m waiting for when he does something alien-y,” Thunderlane spoke low and squinted, afraid of missing an important moment.

Scott turned to ‘politely’ tell the pony to beat it. His words died in his throat, however, when Thunderlane perked up and swiveled his ears forward. Scott said instead, “Wow. You’re really hoping something’s going to happen, aren’t you?”

“Don’t hold out on me, dude. You’ve got alien powers, I know it. Is it heat vision? I bet it’s heat vision. It’s heat vision isn’t? It’s—.”

“Laser breath.”

“I knew it,” Thunderlane said, with a hoof-pump. Twilight rolled her eyes while Scott put him in a good-humored headlock.

Scott nearly steered the conversation toward what she needed Jackie for. The sound of the farmer clopping across the ceiling rendered it a moot point.

“Howdy, Twilight and Thunderlane.” Applejack trotted to her original spot, sliding the bowl over from Scott. Inspecting his mixing job, she smiled. “Not bad, ya got it just thick enough.”

“Yeah?” A little pride in his voice.

“Yep, ya did good.” She ruffled his hair.

“That should feel more patronizing than it does.”

“Applejack, Scott, we need to talk about these rumors,” Twilight said. The mood in the room lost its levity at ‘rumors’.

Applejack paused in her baking to share a worried look with Scott. They didn’t need to be told what rumors.

“Ponies in town are still asking about you and me, Scott. It’s only a matter of time before the tabloids start poking around. We need to come up with a plan of action.” Twilight tried her best to remain as matter-of-fact as possible. Even so, the small bit of accusation in her voice rang through loud and clear, however unintended it may have been.

Scott winced. “Nobody wishes I’d kept my shit together that night more than me, Twilight.”

“I know, Scott, I know. But that’s why I’m here. So we can work this out together.”

Scott huffed with a smirk. The lack of cynicism was par for the course with Equestrians, and he found it, at times, a little jarring. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Telling them separately would let him be more honest about his opinion,” she thought. She tossed her original plan to wait, instead of explaining herself twice. “The focus may be on me, but a number of ponies remember that Applejack approached you first. While you were sitting with Big Mac. I think it would be best if you stayed with Fluttershy.”

“So, y’all reckon the tabloids are gonna figure Big Mac and I know something and come snooping ‘round here?” Applejack asked.

“If the ponies in town have put the pieces together, we can count on the tabloids to do so as well. They’ll probably stop by to ask questions, at least.”

Scott ran his hand through his hair. “What about staying with T-lane here?”

“Dude, that’d be like, totally sick!” Thunderlane’s elation died away as he rubbed the back of his head. “But I got roommates.”

“Don’t ya still live with yer ma an’ pa?” Applejack raised an eyebrow.

“Roommates. I still live with my roommates.”

“What about the other guys?” Scott asked.

“Caramel has roommates, too.”

“Are those regular roommates,” Scott asked Applejack while he jabbed his thumb at Thunderlane, “or his roommates-of-shame?”

“The shameless ones.”

“And Lucky.” Thunderlane glared at the smug pair. “He’s got a crazy landlady. She does, like, random inspections to make sure he’s not sharing his place n’ stuff.”

“The rest of the girls’ homes double as a place of business, and Dash’s home is made of clouds.” Twilight tilted her head. “What’s wrong with Fluttershy?”

“I know she is your friend and all, but… well. It’s just from the few times I’ve met her, I don’t know if we’d get along.”

“Well, at least Fluttershy’s is out of the way enough that you’ll still be able to go outside.” He seemed to relax a bit at that, just not as much as she would’ve liked. “Are you okay with this?”

“Eh, it is what it is. Besides, do we have a choice?”

“You could stay here.” Twilight was less than thrilled at the idea. She would have kept the option to herself, had her motivation for keeping him hidden been more important than to avoid running to Celestia and handling this on her own. “You just wouldn’t be able to go outside.”

“That could work.” The others turned to Thunderlane. “Hey yeah. Me and the guys could stop by and hang out. Bring over movies n’ beer, make it a regular thing.”

Scott nodded and frowned as he gave it some thought.

“Oh, hell naw!” Applejack widened her eyes. “Scott, Ah think ya should go to Fluttershy’s.” At his skeptical look, she continued. “If ya stay here, it’s gonna take ya no time till y’all are bouncin’ off the walls an’ driving me crazy. An’ when that happens, Ah’ll jus’ drown ya.” The others blinked. “Ah won’t want to, an’ Ah reckon it’ll be weird ta explain ta Apple Bloom.” She placed her hoof on his shoulder. “But Ah will.”

Scott chuckled. “Sounds like something my mom would say.” He let his smile fade a bit. “You got a point, though. I guess it’s off to Fluttershy’s I go.”

“We’ve still got to check with Fluttershy,” Twilight said.

Two long hours later, after Thunderlane had become bored and left, Fluttershy finally arrived. Scott waited outside while Twilight went through a rundown with Fluttershy. To Twilight’s mild surprise, Fluttershy had been more concerned about his rowdiness than his status as a predator. After Applejack’s assurance that he was more laid back on a day-to-day basis, Fluttershy agreed, albeit with no small amount of hesitation.

“Don’t ya worry any, sugar cube, y’all’ll be all right. If he gives ya any problems, tell me, an’ Ah’ll bring over ol’ Kicks McGee and smarten him up.” Applejack winked, earning a titter from Fluttershy.

“Um, Twilight?” Fluttershy asked. Twilight smiled as a signal that she was listening. “What about Discord? He likes to stop in for tea sometimes.”

Twilight dropped her head on the table with a groan. “I completely forgot about him.”

“Can ya have tea with ‘em somewhere else?” Applejack asked, with the unspoken thought, “Or maybe not at all?”

“Well, I guess I could. It’s just any time I go with him into town, he causes a scene.”

“Applejack, you think you could let them come out here?” Twilight did her best at massaging away her stress by rubbing her temples.

Applejack nodded, while her grimace made it clear she wasn’t happy about it.

“Thank you, Applejack. I promise we won’t be any trouble at all,” Fluttershy said. “So, um, is Scott coming with me?”

Applejack checked the view out the window. The sun was out of sight, with only a faint golden glow peeking over the horizon. “By the time he packs, it’ll be pretty late. We’ll drop him off tomorrow.”

Fluttershy and Twilight bid their goodbyes while they left the house. Twilight spotted Scott sitting on top of a picnic table and changed course, leaving Fluttershy to depart the farm on her own.

“She said yes.” She stopped beside the table. “Somepony will to take you over tomorrow.”

“Cool.” He nodded as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

“I won’t be there. So if you have anything else for me, now is the time.”

“She’s clearly tired of this shit.” He waved her off. “Nah, I’m good. I guess this is going to be the last time I see you for a while.”

“Looks that way.”

“Thanks for this, Sparkles,” he said. “I know you got a lot to worry about other than me.”

“Scott, you’re my friend, and I always make time for my friends no matter what, because that’s what friends do for each other.” She shrugged, while he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Besides, I’m the one who actually got the rumor started.”

“Hey, I was thinking about that. Can you use your princess-y powers and shut the papers up? I mean... ‘free speech is awesome’ may have been the rallying cry of my country, but… you know… if it could save you some grief.”

Twilight bit her lip, as it was really tempting. “As a princess, I think technically I can... but it would look really bad.”

“I kinda figured as much.”

The comment about his country got Twilight thinking about his situation. It was odd how, in his company, she often forgot she was trying to prove he was from Equus. Now that she thought about it, he himself rarely, if ever, brought up what he thought was her sending him home. Like a topic that isn’t discussed in polite company, there seemed to be an unspoken agreement to avoid the elephant.

“How are you holding up?” She clambered up and sat next to him.

Scott took a quick moment to realize what she was getting at. “Aw, you know, just taking it a day at a time.”

He looked up. The last of the sun’s light had completely faded, and the sky was awash with twinkling pinpricks of light. A moon so familiar, yet so alien all at once, sat among the stars. The galaxy itself stole the show; a trillion distant suns mixed with gaseous, reddish-brown nebulas to stretch across the sky in a band of light.

“I think your nights would be something I’d miss.”

“Do you not have night skies like this?”

“If you get high enough and far enough from cities… yeah, you can get nights like this.” There was a lull in the conversation. Both were content to sit in silence and watch the tapestry of cosmic wonders.

“After all this blows over, I could bring out my telescope if you like?”

“You’re gonna carry that big monster of a thing out here?” Scott asked. Twilight smirked and tapped her horn. He grinned at that. “Cheater.”

+Twilight's smile faded as Scott went back to watching the sky. The more she had gotten to know him, the more she hoped he was delusional instead of just thinking he was. Her stomach twisted at actually hoping that somepony was delusional. However, at least then he could maybe get help and overcome his condition, return to his family. Him being from where he claimed was so... absolute.

“I ever get my laptop working, and I’ll show you some pictures from the Hubble. That’s a telescope the size of a train car.” He leaned over to her. “In space.”

“Now I know you’re making stuff up.” Her words spoke of doubt, but the twinkle in her eyes betrayed her desire to go ‘oooh’. “Maybe if somepony would let me try a spell or two.”

“No, you’ll break it.”

“Then we should take it apart first, so I can get a better understanding of how it works.”

“You’re not touching my stuff with your voodoo face magic.” He grinned, knowing full well she would give anything to poke and prod the device. “Besides, your little pony mind couldn't even deal with the complexity of the thing. I’d leave you alone with it for a minute and come back to find you a fucking dishevelled wreck in the corner, speaking in the ancient tongues of the Dark Ones and eating macaroni.”

Twilight giggled in spite of herself. “You are so weird.”

“Yeah, but you laughed. So who’s the real weirdo?”

“It’s still you.”

He smirked at that. Sensing she was still worrying, he reached over and kneaded the base of her neck. She had to admit, his strong, rough hands felt really good. She dipped her head to bring those muscles taut.

“Twilight, it’ll be all right. Shit has a way of working out in the end.” When she didn’t respond, he give her a slight, steady shake. “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” She smiled while he pulled his hand back. “Thanks, Scott.”

“Aw.” He waved her off. “Don’t thank me, thank Einstein-Rosen bridges.”

Sensing the conversation drawing to a close, they said their farewells. With a flap of her wings, Twilight wobbled off into the evening air.

“Would you hurry it up? I’d like to get there with a few birthdays left,” Scott said. He rode in the front of the wagon as it bumped along the wood line. The sun overhead was nearing its apex.

Big Mac looked over his shoulder from his position in the wagon’s hitch. “This isn’t fun for me either. Ah could be doin’ somethin’ else.”

“Bullshit, you have no life. Besides, I’m the one stuck back here staring at your giant red baboon ass.”

“Y’all staring says more ‘bout you than it does me.” He returned his attention down the path.

“Dude, you got Big Mac smack talking without booze. How’d you do that?” Thunderlane glided alongside the wagon. Why he had showed up hadn’t been made entirely clear. Big Mac guessed he was trying to avoid Rainbow Dash after skipping out of work early yesterday. Thunderlane denied it and maintained that his constant checking of the skies was completely unrelated.

Scott smiled up at the flier. “That’s easy. One day I told him, ‘if you say yep or nope to me one more goddamn time, I’m gonna shove my hand up your ass and work your mouth like a puppet’.”

“Eenope.”

“Ha!” Scott pulled out his Gerber knife and, with a flick of his wrist, snapped the blade out. He stabbed an apple out of the bushels in the back and set about cutting pieces off. “Do you guys know what Fluttershy is like?”

“Well, she’s shy,” Thunderlane said.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” Scott rolled his eyes and popped a slice of apple in his mouth.

“She’s got a ton of animals at her house.”

“Ugh, I already hate this.”

“She’s hot.”

“And if she was going to touch my wee-wee, I would care.”

Thunderlane shrugged. “Still nice scenery.”

“Because nothing puts a shy, timid girl at ease like living alone and far from town with a two-hundred pound man who is eye-raping her.”

“Thunderlane, y’all gotta understand, Scott here is sexually confused when it comes to mares,” Big Mac said.

“Hey, hey, hey… shut up.” Scott pointed the knife at Mac. It would have been threatening, except for the piece of fruit stuck on the end. “Thunderlane, don’t listen to him. Unless it’s apples, or kicking trees, or seducing cousins, he doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about.”

“Dude, you were made fun of a lot growing up, weren’t you? Because you snap off comebacks like nopony’s business,” Thunderlane said. Big Mac stifled a laugh with a snort.

“Never mind that.” He plucked the piece of fruit off the blade with his teeth. “Anyways, I’m not sexually confused. I know exactly where I stand on pounding pony poontang.”

“And that is…?”

“Okay see, it’s like this.” Thunderlane and Mac recognized the tell-tell phrase of incoming bullshit. “I’m torn between the future and the present. I was on a year dry spell back home. Right now, my dick doesn’t care. If given the chance, it would bang a couch if it had a vagina. But, I’m savvy enough to know the minute I finish plowing a local girl, my dick’s going to bugger off and leave me with the shame and regret.”

“Bro, why would you feel bad after getting laid?”

Big Mac glanced back and caught Scott looking his way. They’d had a similar discussion months before, and Scott’s explanation had kind of pissed Mac off. After cooling off, Big Mac explained some ‘social issues’ ponies had had to deal with in the past. He had advised the alien that he might want to keep comments about the parallels between ponies and animals to himself.

“It’s complicated,” Big Mac said.

Scott nodded. “What the big guy said.”

Thunderlane was typically rather oblivious to, well, just about anything not flashy and loud. Still, he was able to pick up on the hint and let the subject die. He landed and laid on the tarp-covered apples in the back of the wagon.

Stabbing the last of slice of apple, Scott flipped the blade toward Thunderlane. “Apple?”

Thunderlane reached out and hesitated, not entirely confident about taking the fruit off the end of a knife in a bouncing wagon.

Scott snatched the slice and held out it in the palm of his hand. “Here.”

As Thunderlane licked the slice up, his long tongue dragged across Scott’s palm. With closed eyes, he happily munched on the tasty snack. “Thanks, bra. That was—.” He paused at Scott’s look, tilting his head to the side. “What’s wrong?”

Fluttershy stood out front of her Tolkien-esque cottage with Applejack. The work pony had meant to simply stop by and deliver a sort of cheat sheet about Scott, a few things she’d figured her shy friend could take a peek at when she had a chance, a little something to help smooth everything out, nothing too serious.

“What do you mean by this one?” Fluttershy pointed at a spot on the page.

Applejack leaned over and looked at the item in question through tired eyes. “What it says. He tends ta rub his head when he gets all flustered-like.”

“Okay, rubs head when mad. Got it,” she said. Fluttershy was taking the list very seriously. The list instilled a new found sense of weightiness to the situation and she fretted over every little item. Applejack’s quick stopover had turned into an all-morning event.

“No… jus’ flustered or frustrated. He gets quiet when he's mad.”

“Oh.” The pegasus glanced at the list. “Is that on here?”

“Yes.”

“What’s he eat?”

“Ah told ya, except grasses, whatever a pony can, but he’ll probably ask ya for meat.”

Fluttershy darted her gaze back and forth, up and down the list. “What about this one?” She tapped the sentence.

Before Applejack could answer for the umpteenth time, the sound of creaking wood and popping gravel diverted their attention. She had to hide her relief at finally seeing Big Mac and the wagon coming up the path.

While the ponies greeted each other, Scott hefted his bags of clothes onto his shoulder and surveyed his new home. The house lay nestled near the wood line, and nearly every tree held two bird houses. Their residents zipped overhead constantly with chirps and squawks. Otters played in a creek out front of the dwelling, while deer frolicked in the backyard.

“Hunh. This is kind of nice.”

A woodpecker dove out of a tree and latched onto the back of Scott’s head. In a flurry, the bird began stabbing Scott with its face-shiv like a coked-out, feathery O. J. Simpson.

“Son of a bitch!” He ducked and swung his arms frantically at the avian menace on his head. The bird took flight and zipped off, whistling tweets that sounded almost... cheerful. “Goddamn it, what the fuck?!”

“Oh, my goodness, what happened? Are you okay?” It was a good thing Fluttershy was there to show concern, as the other ponies were too busy trying not to laugh.

“That bird attacked me!” Rubbing the back of his head, he frowned at the others, who were still snickering at him. “You all suck, by the way.”

“What’d we do?” Applejack asked.

“I just got mauled by an animal and you—.” He was cut off by a trio of snorts followed by laughter.

“He said ‘mauled’,” Thunderlane said. “Like it was some bear or wolf.”

“Kiss my ass, that shit hurt.”

Fluttershy lead them into her home. Scott brought up the rear as well as keeping a wary eye on the skies. The interior was an indoor version of what Scott had seen outside: a veritable menagerie of animals scurrying about and out of cubby holes along the walls.

Unlike outside, Scott’s mood had been a bit soured via the wannabe Woody Woodpecker. “Oh, what a wonderful bouquet of animal smells, and that pile of shit in the corner, what a homey touch.”

“What’s that?” Thunderlane asked. He leaned over and gave the list a quick scan.

“Just a list of do’s an’ don’ts ‘bout Scott,” Applejack said.

“You might want to add: don’t lick him. Seems to get pretty upset about that.” He rubbed his sore shoulder.

“That… shouldn’t be a problem,” Fluttershy said.

Applejack raised an eyebrow back at Scott.

“Don’t ask.” He turned to Fluttershy and asked, “Where am I sleeping?”

“Up the stairs, first door on the right.”

Scott ambled off for the second floor.

“You can use my room. I’ll just sleep down here on the couch.”

Scott snapped to a stop on the stairs and swivelled towards the couch.

“You don’t have to sleep down here. I really don’t—.”

“That’s not happening.”

“Okay.”

Big Mac cleared his throat, gaining Scott’s attention. He signaled, with his eyes, over his shoulder to Fluttershy, who was doing her best to hide behind her mane.

“Right. She’s sensitive.” Scott exhaled, reeling in his temper. “Sorry, didn’t mean to snap, Fluttershy.”

She peeked out from behind her mane with a small smile. “That’s okay.”

“Well, I guess this is goodbye.” Scott turned to Big Mac, dropping his bags.

“Eeyup.”

“I’ll see ya when I see ya.” Scott got down on a knee, and they wrapped an arm each other, punctuated with a couple manly pats. Before Scott stood, Big Mac nuzzled him. He barely prevented himself from flinching away from the contact of the soft nose on his cheek.

The act was a planet-wide thing similar to a hug, with a more personal implication, but was considered nonsexual. Big Mac often forgot that it weirded out Scott; it was just that ingrained into pony culture. To make matters more complicated, or worse depending on your view, refusing it was considered rude and spiteful.

After a conscious effort and some self-awareness, Scott had made significant strides towards not overreacting since the first time it had happened. He still felt bad about Big Mac’s bloody nose.

“God, that is strange.” He glanced at Applejack. “I guess you’re gonna want a hug, too?”

“Oh, c'mere, ya big galoot.” She rose up to her hind legs and gave him a squeeze, her head draped over his shoulder. “Y’all take care now.” She leaned back to look him in the face. “Ya listen ta Fluttershy, an’ don’t give her a hard time, ya hear?”

“Yes, dear.” The only crack in his façade of indifference was the bob of his Adam’s apple. Saying bye to the Apples all morning was proving surprisingly hard. No one enjoyed a teary-eyed Apple Bloom. And no one enjoyed a horny Granny Smith trying to sneak in an ass-grab during a hug.

“We might try an’ stop by if we can.” She dropped back to all fours and trotted out the door with her brother.

Thunderland trotted up and sat up on his hunches, holding his forelegs out wide.

Scott blinked. “No.”

“Come on, bro.” He wiggled his hooves towards himself. “Bring it in.”

Scott jerked his arm back with a clenched fist.

With a yipe, Thunderlane bolted for the door. His legs were a flurry of movement as his hooves skittered across the hardwood floor.

With that, Fluttershy and Scott were alone. Scott went about stacking his clothes under the couch. He slowed his pace in an attempt to draw out the busywork. Anything to avoid the inevitable awkwardness.

It was painfully obvious he wanted to be back on the farm, where there was a familiarity and a sense of normalcy. As normal as living with aliens could be, that is. Being uprooted so suddenly to be passed off like some hot vegetable, quite frankly, sucked.

Fluttershy looked on with concern before she smiled at him. “I’m going to be outside taking care of some of my animals. You’re welcome to join me. If you like that is, not that you have to. I don’t want to pressure you or anything.”

“Easy. I'm good; do your animal thing.”

“I’ll be outside. You take all the time you need to get settled,” she said, and slipped out the door.

He sat on the couch and ran his hand through his hair. He could already tell tiptoeing around her sensitivity was going to get old. While it was easy to sympathize with the meek and quiet over the confident and loud, the constant effort to show restraint could be exhausting for the latter.

He noticed a pervasive disquiet in the room. He slowly panned his head side-to-side. All around him, birds of all shapes and sizes stared. They didn’t blink or move; hell, they didn’t even seem to be breathing. They just stared unendingly, their eyes boring into his very soul. Judging.

“She could use some help.” His awkward stride for the door was a balance between strolling out in a manly calm and running in a shameless panic. Though he didn’t dare look, he could feel every gaze following him. He was sleeping with his knife under the pillow tonight.