Nightmare at the Gala(Con)?

Epilogue

You wake up, a lot more refreshed than you usually do. That was one incredible night. As a few rays of light hit your face through the window, you blink and take a look around you. Neither of your two lovely companions is here.

“Was it a dream … after all?” you mumble to yourself.

No, you hadn't noticed it earlier, but there was definitely the sound of running water coming from the shower. It's only now obvious, as someone has stopped it.

A few seconds later Ranko steps out of the bathroom, a towel slung across her body, while drying her hair with another towel. Noticing you on the bed, she gives you a radiant smile. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

“Morning,” you respond. So at least she was real enough. That's good. But she's not really the one you've come to think of as a dream. “Where's Rarity?”

She stops and sits beside you on the bed, taking a moment to cross her legs. You can see white thighs overlapping. “She gone.”

“Gone? Gone to where?”

“She didn't say. She woke up earlier this morning and started getting dressed. When I asked her, she told me not to wake you up, and then she simply left. Didn't look like she was planning on coming back.”

You feel a little hurt that she wouldn't at least say goodbye. Then again, isn't that what dreams are always like? As soon as they really start to feel like the real thing, you wake up. Without warning. Without a goodbye. “She didn't say anything?”

Ranko puts a thoughtful finger on her chin. “Well, there's this peculiar thing she did. She walked up to you, gave you a kiss on the forehead and said: 'My job here is done.' Then she turned to me and said: 'Take care of him.' That's all.” You feel as confused by this story as Ranko seems to be from recounting it. “Does that mean anything to you?”

Thinking about that, Nightmare Rarity's odd behavior and her connection to your dreams for a moment, you do come up with a theory. “Maybe … I dunno.” You shake your head. You can't tell Ranko that you think of Nightmare Rarity as some kind of guardian spirit, who came out of your dreams, so that you and Ranko could meet. That kind of logic doesn't even work for a trashy romance novel. But you decide that this is how you're gonna think about it, anyway.

“Now then, what should we do today?”

“Oh, right.” You reach over to your nightstand and hold up two GalaCon passes. “I was gonna tell you. I did bring my ex-girlfriend's unused ticket to check-in yesterday. You can have one, since it's kinda my fault that they laid you off as a volunteer. So we can go see that M.A. Larson panel, if you still want to.” You scratch your cheek. “Of course we might have disguise ourselves a little, so they don't recognize and kick us out again.”

Ranko accepts the pass with a smile, but then puts it away. “I'd love to. But the panel is in the afternoon.” She leans over, lying on top of you and you can feel her voluptuous body press against yours through the towel. “How about we stay in bed just a little longer?”

“I like the sound of that,” you say as you accept her kiss and lean back. “Ow!” Something sharp is poking you in the back and you reach your hand around, trying to fish it out. Holding the irregular, gray object in front of your eyes, you can't shake the feeling that you've seen it somewhere before. “A stone?”

Ranko lightly takes it away from you and firmly puts it down on the nightstand. “That's my lucky charm. Thanks for finding it.” It may have been a trick of the early morning light, but for a split second there you could have sworn that her pupils had contracted into slits, upon seeing the stone.

You look at her face for a while and it seems to be the same as before. There's no reason to worry, right? Come on, it's not like Rarity was THE Nightmare Rarity. Enough about dreams and spirits! Ranko's here right now and she's real. Maybe, just maybe, meeting her here was meant to be, and this relationship actually has a chance of going somewhere. For now you simply decide to enjoy the moment.

And enjoy it you do, as her mouth moves away from your lips, bestowing light butterfly kisses upon your cheeks, your neck and finally moving on to nibbling on your earlobes. “Wanna know a secret?” she whispers.

“Yeah.”

“Sometimes I wish the night could last forever.”

The End?