“There we go!” Photo Finish said aloud. “Another day of organizing models, dresses and pictures without a single hitch.”

And now that all of those things were finished, her mind drifted quickly to Coco. She groaned, slouching in her chair.

It wasn’t even that she wanted to at that moment; in fact, she would’ve avoided even the thought of her for the rest of the day if it was up to her. She hadn’t even seen Coco after locking herself up in the office, so she had assured herself that she would be fine.

But now that the day was done, her mind immediately fixated on the image of Coco’s flank pressing against the glass of the door, creating a large cream-colored circle with her cutie mark smoothed out; or Coco’s appetite at the café as she scarfed down cinnamon roll after cinnamon roll; or her rump wobbling as she walked down the street, or when she came into her office earlier and kissed her in thanks for the cinnamon rolls; or when she sat on top of her and shook her rump in her lap—

She groaned again. “Knock it off, brain. None of that happened.”

Hey, a mare can dream, right?

Yes, and that’s the problem. I need to focus.

You don’t even want to think about her?

Not until this paparazzi is off of my tail.

Usually, Finish would’ve gone out to her studio to look over the progress made between her seamstresses, her make-up crew, her set designers, her photo-helpers, and of course eager models looking for her expertise. Today, she wouldn’t admit it to anypony, but she wouldn’t dare to go out and expose herself to anypony who could be, or work for, the paparazzi. No fleeting glances at Coco could be captured, no pats of encouragement could be construed as inappropriate, no offers of food could pin Coco as her pet—

She sighed. No, that’s not right at all. She closed the manila folder on her desk. “I should just get home and rest. No observations, no magazines, no going out.”

The clock read half-past five. Her staff would’ve already packed shop by now, as it wasn’t a photo shoot day. It was better for her, she figured; the paparazzo wouldn’t have many places to hide, and even if he or she were there, she would know who it was. Her eyes caught more that anypony would think, and she knew the studio like her own home; there wouldn’t be many, if any, obvious hiding places for him.

She tossed the folder in her saddlebag, rose from her chair, walked over to her door, and flicked the lights off. “Just go home and rest,” she told herself once more. She pushed the door open.

And came face-to-face with Coco.

“Oh!”

“Oof!” Finish sighed exasperatedly. “What is it, Miss Pommel?”

“I-I’m sorry, Miss Finish,” she stammered out, her chest rising with her labored breaths. “I didn’t mean to startle you, I just wanted to check up on you, because you haven’t been out of your office in a while—“

“Enough!” Finish barked. I will not have the paparazzo gaining any information on me. “Just… I am fine. I was just very busy with paperwork.”

“Oh.” She didn’t press further, Thank Celestia. “Um… uuuuuuuuuh…” Coco smacked her lips, which caused her cheeks to jiggle. Filling up those fat cheeks of yours, I see. What salty, sugary, fattening treats have you shoved into your maw— “I-I was wondering…”

“Yes?” What is she going to ask of me? If I have any more cinnamon buns? If I can walk her home? If I can take pictures of her?

Coco’s breathing quickened. “I was wondering if you needed anything.”

Oh, there are so many things I need from you. “Your work is all taken care of, yes? Then I do not need anything more from you.”

“Oh,” Coco replied with a whisper. “I mean… You’ve looked kinda stressed lately, and—”

“I am fine,” Finish replied firmly. “Please do not worry about me.”

“Oh.” Coco looked down at the ground. “Okay.” She turned, bumping the desk with her rump. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Okay, Coco.” Finish waited until Coco left before she sighed and rubbed her temples. “Why did I do that?”

Because of the paparazzi.

Yes, he or she is causing so much stress.

Don’t let it get out of this office.

Yes. I must play it cool. With a deep breath, she opened the door and walked out.

Coco wasn’t there. Must’ve gone home. The only pony that was still there was Pins, gently putting her spools and needles away. She hadn’t even looked up as Finish walked out of her office and towards the front door.

“Good night, Pins,” Finish said simply.

“What did Coco want?”

Finish stopped. “She wanted to know if there was anything else she could do before she left.”

“I imagined that would be the case.” Pins closed her suitcase. “Coco does like to please.”

“What do you mean?”

“At the job.”

“Oh.”

“What did you think I meant?”

Finish raised a brow. “You do not usually ask this many questions.”

“And you usually don’t avoid answering them.”

Finish bristled. Pins smiled. “Don’t worry about it, Photo Finish. There’s nothing to worry about between you and me and Coco.”

“No, of course there is not.” Finish huffed and walked out. “Have a good night.”

“Good night, Photo Finish.”

They both walked out of the studio together, and after locking the front door, the two mares went their separate ways. A ways away, Finish looked back, and caught Pins looking back at her. Pins turned her head and rounded the next corner.

What was that about?

Who knows?

How does she see so much? And why is she concerned about us?

She liked Coco.

Does she?

I think you’re becoming a bit paranoid.

No. I think Pins might be a spy.

For Fleur?

It would make sense with how much she knows.

I can’t refute that.

I must keep an eye on her, then. For now, I will go home and rest. I hope reading some newspapers will take my mind off of all of this, at least for the night.

As it turned out, and as she had in her heart predicted, the tabloids did nothing to shake her desire to go to Coco’s apartment and tell her everything. No amount of gossip or conveniently-timed pictures could distract her from the real confusion that Pins had caused, or the despondency that Coco showed when she turned her down. And the well-edited words only forced her to think of her own actions, and whether or not she—

“No! I have not said anything that I did not mean! I meant to say that I could not, because of the paparazzi. I just cannot go off at a time like this!” And with that, she kicked the newspaper away from her.

“I… I… I cannot do anything while he or she is out there, watching my every move.” She sniffled.

Photo Finish, what was that?

What was what?

Are you about to start c—

No, I am not! I never c—

It’s okay—

No, it’s not! I can’t do anything while I have cameras on me, scrutinizing my every move.

You are giving up too easily. You are Photo Finish, a mare who has cameras on her every day, a mare who walks around with no fear, a mare that gets things done!

I know. But this…

You are trying too hard. Look at the tabloids again.

With heavy hooffalls, she trudged over to the newspaper and picked it up again. The latest gossip was plastered on the front page: Coloratura subtly writing her music in order to manipulate foals into doing her Tartarus-damned bidding. The photo used showed her smiling down at children, almost menacingly.

And how is this supposed to comfort me? Coloratura is being attacked, just as I am. Am I supposed to feel a kindred spirit in her?

Is the article truthful?

It didn’t take any thought at all for her to know it wasn’t. The article cherry-picked lyrics that, in the song’s context, had a well-intentioned meaning to them, and the overall tone showed a deep-seeded opposition to the pop star. Are you saying—

What I am saying is that the newspapers and magazines will make up anything to put you in a bad light. You have dealt with this before, have you not?

I have. But those stories have always been false. This is something I am actually experiencing, a romantic relationship with my fat coworker.

Romantic?

…Well—

I understand.

What?

Just be careful when you go after her.

But I can’t go after her! Don’t you understand that?

The voice in her head was replaced with a throbbing migraine, and before she knew it she was lying down. She discarded her goggles and closed her eyes, and almost instantly it died down. “I cannot do this tonight. I need… to rest.”

With aching hooves, she discarded the paper onto her coffee table and dragged herself to the stairs. Ascending them made her stomach go into knots. Should I go to bed, she thought, or should I take a bath first? I know what will happen if I go to the bathroom, so I should just go to bed, right?

Right.

She reached the top and turned left.

But a bath will help calm me down.

As you wish. Just be careful.

What, do you think the paparazzo will be watching me take a bath, looking through my binoculars?

It is always possible.

The worst thing that would happen to me is that I am called a peeping tom. Is that really so bad?

Has it been that bad before?

She knew that it hadn’t really been; she was known to do this stuff publicly before. I could just brush it off as looking for late-night inspiration. I can’t be slinking in the streets forever, now can I?

She turned on the bathroom light and doffed her dress—which made her feel twenty pounds lighter—but not her goggles. The steam clouded her vision as the hot water filled the tub, but she didn’t bother wiping them away just yet. She didn’t even grab a magazine for her perusal or enjoyment; it was wise not to give anypony any sort of ideas about her.

And this made her angry. “Why should I censor myself in my own home? I am the master here!” But she knew why, and, wiping her goggles, decided not to speak up any more.

For a while, the only sound in the whole house was the ticking of the clocks, and the running water filling up the tub. Even Finish rubbing off her goggles every now and again didn’t make any squeaks. But when she turned off the water, she rolled in with a plop!, producing a splash that sent some water over. Damn, I shouldn’t be making such a scene—damn, I shouldn’t be worrying about making a scene in my own home—damn, I shouldn’t be worrying about worrying—

She groaned under the water’s surface before coming up. She was about to say something—she was about to say a lot of things, actually—but with everything inside her head, she decided not to. Instead, she snorted the water from her nostrils, and then rested her head on the bathtub head. Her body went limp.

Time passed. She didn’t know how long she had stayed like that, her body motionless, but it did little to relieve the thoughts in her mind. In fact, they only grew, and grew, and grew, and—

“Not tonight.” Finish grabbed her mane shampoo, dumped a small portion into her hoof, rubbed her hooves together, and began rubbing it into her mane. Each rub was violent, not usually how she would treat a mane as well-coifed as hers, but the pain temporarily took her mind off of the aches in her body. Her tail didn’t receive the same treatment, instead being gently scrubbed with throbbing hooves.

Her coat was next, and it almost seemed as though her aches were melting away with each scrub of her loofah. She gave her neck a loud crack after washing it; her hooves stopped throbbing after her forelegs were washed; the knot in her stomach unwound after her underside was cleaned; and her back eased up after being scrubbed. She even felt twinges of desire as she ran the loofah along her flanks and rump. “Not tonight,” she whispered with a smile. Her hoof knocked off her goggles as she rubbed her backside clean.

“Oh, oooh…” She arched her back. “Oh, Coco, right there.” Her thick face rubbing against her bottom, softly, hesitantly looking for Finish’s sweet spot. “Right there, just put your fat face right there—“

A faint knock reached her ears, sending her flailing in the tub. Her heart pounded. That’s impossible, nopony could’ve seen me from down there! She indignantly shoved her window open and peered out. “Who is it?!” she barked.

At first, there was no reply. “These Tartarus-damned juveniles and their pranks—“

But then a bulge of a cream cheek peeked from the corner. She didn’t need to see the rest in order to know who it was.

“H-h-hello, Photo Finish—“

She didn’t wait for the rest of her babbling. She jumped out of her tub, slipped and fell, shot up, kicked her door open, practically leapt down her staircase, dashed through her foyer, and with a deep breath pushed the door open.

“Coco—“ She nearly slipped on the front step. “Coco Pommel! What brings you here this time of night?”

The bulbous figure of Coco walked over from the shadows of the corner and into the light of the front porch. There had been no change to her figure since the last time Finish saw her. Still holding back, Coco? “I… I was just wondering—oh my.”

“What? What is it?”

“You’re wet.”

Finish’s eyes bugged, and she pointed an angry hoof at the other mare. “I do not know what you are talking about!” But right as she said this, she felt drops of water on her coat, and heard the drops hitting the floor. “Oh, you meant—Coco, what are you doing here?”

“Oh.” A blush appeared on Coco’s cheeks, and Finish’s heart stopped. Oh my stars, Coco, what are you doing? Are you here to finally be with me, after so long resisting me? And of all times, when the paparazzi could be—

Her thoughts stopped. In an instant, she realized that the mare of her desires was in front her her, blushing like the cheerleader in front of the hoofball stud, and she had ran from her bath, soaking wet, to meet her in public, and the paparazzo had a perfect opportunity to nail her for her lust. In the next instant, she took Coco by the foreleg and pulled her inside.

“Wha-wha-what are you doing, Photo Finish?” Coco asked with a panicked tone.

“It-it is cold out here,” Finish babbled, her tone hoarser than she would’ve liked. “Come in and rest.”

“But I just wanted to ask a question—“

Finish shoved with all of might against Coco’s rump, finally coaxing the mare into the foyer proper. Swinging her hindleg about, she finally found the door and kicked it shut. There. Now nopony can see us. And there were no flashes, so it’s not likely anypony took a picture.

“Photo Finish?”

“Yes, Coco?”

“You can stop pushing me now, I think this is far enough.”

She snapped out of her rushing state and looked up. There, staring right at her, was Coco’s large rump. Nowhere near as glorious as Fanny Pancake’s, but the large expanse of skin in front of her, the beautiful spherical shape, the slight sag from the weight, the large crack like a curtain, concealing what she imagined was a lusciously plump set of lips. Her hoof sank into the flesh, soft yet firm, and it jiggled from her walking. Even Coco’s fetlocks, which twitched every now and again from the weight, made Finish’s heart swoon. Even the dock of Coco’s tail had thickened up, a firm roll that Finish just wanted to—

“Photo Finish?”

She snapped out of her observations to look at where she was. In her haste, she had shoved Coco all the way to the stairs that would’ve led to her bathroom… and her bedroom.

Okay, Photo Finish, what can I do to get her upstairs?

What are you doing? You want to get her up there now?

Is there a better time?

Yes, and it is not now!

But—butt— But she couldn’t think of a justification to get Coco up there. No excuse, no reason, nothing came to her. Slowly, she eased off of Coco. “I am sorry.”

“It’s okay, really,” Coco said with a wavering voice. “It was just… weird.” She turned to look at Finish, and she was smiling. “Um. May I have something to dry myself off?”

Finish’s eyes travelled along Coco’s body, and she saw the other mare’s legs, sides and rump were dripping with water. Finish herself was still dripping wet. “Of course, I will get us a towel.”

Having by now regained her composure, she made her way up the stairs to her hallway closet. She grabbed her largest towel—usually reserved for special occasions—and, after some deliberation, grabbed one just for her. No use trying to cuddle. This should be big enough for her.

Meanwhile, Coco was staring at the ground, and didn’t even look up as Finish descended the staircase. It made Finish want to stop and stare at the other mare’s corpulent magnificence, but she decided to keep her composure instead. Coco looked up when Finish was mere steps away from her, her face turning a soft shade of pink.

“Here you go,” Finish said quietly, trying not to break the moment. The large towel was almost big enough to completely wrap around Coco’s belly, a sight that made Finish’s heart beat faster.

“Th-thanks.” Coco maneuvered the towel around the wet spots, and Finish watched with fascination as Coco struggled to reach around her flab.

“Would you like some help?”

“Um, no thank you,” Coco said too quickly, what is she doing now?. “This is a very nice towel.”

“I am glad you like it,” Finish replied, going to jump on her couch, then realizing she was still soaking wet. She wrapped the towel around herself and then laid on the couch. “Now, what are you doing here, and why are you blushing so much?”

Coco’s blush nearly doubled. “Um, well, it’s just that I’ve never seen you without your goggles before. You have pretty eyes.”

Finish’s heartbeat froze. “Oh, well… do you expect me to wear my goggles in my own home?”

“N-no, now that you bring it up.”

“B-but thank you, Coco Pommel.” Her voice became soft, much to her bafflement. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“Oh!” Coco’s blush doubled, and she began to look everywhere but at Photo Finish. “Well, I was going to go out with the girls to get something to eat—“

Ooh, go on.

“B-but they had business to attend to—“

I bet they did, and you are too delicate to get involved.

“A-and I was wondering if you…”

What?

“If you wanted to go and get some dinner.”

—————

“I was going to go somewhere nearby, called Pies to the Skies.”

I’ve heard of it, a place specializing in large pies… oooooh!

“Whoa, Photo Finish!”

She realized that she had said that last part out loud. “I have heard of them. They are a nice place.”

“Mmhmm, so I’ve been told by an amicable clockmaker named Rose. She helped me with my clock at home, though she was a bit… entranced by it, I guess.”

Yeah yeah yeah, I get it, a mare bewitched by a clock, now get back to you and your offer of taking me to—to dinner? Oh my stars… why now? Why now!?

“I just had nopony to go with, and you were nearby, and I know you’ve been working hard lately, and I thought it would be nice to extend an invitation.”

Finish’s breathing became heavy. “That is awfully kind of you, C-Coco Pommel.”

Coco smiled.

“But I cannot go tonight.”

Coco’s smile dropped. “Oh. O-okay.”

“I am truly sorry,” Finish said, getting up and wrapping a foreleg around Coco’s withers. “I wish I could, but I am still busy getting things ready. I cannot step out… tonight.”

“I understand.” Coco nodded. “Is there any way I can help with your work?”

“No, this is all bossy stuff.” Bossy stuff? “You go on and have fun, Coco. I will try and come another night.”

Coco’s smiled returned. “Okay, I’ll ask another time.” She shrugged off the towel with considerable effort and, passing it to her boss, walked over to the front door. “And if you want to come on by tonight, I’ll be there a while.”

A while? She felt like she was about to faint. “Uh-okay, Coco, have fun, gotta get work done before I go completely mad! Take care.” She thought about opening the front door, but decided not to risk the paparazzi getting a picture of them together.

“Okay.” Coco opened the door herself and walked out. “See you later, Photo Finish.”

The door closed, and Finish was left to sigh and contemplate those last few words. See you later… it is prophetic.

You will see her at work tomorrow. I see no reason why that is prophetic.

Don’t ruin the moment.

Okay. Have your moment.

She thought of herself alongside Coco Pommel, leading her to the pie place, shoving her wide flanks through the doors, telling her to wait at a table while she ordered everything for her, and then feeding her slice by slice while Coco greedily wolfed it down. She began reaching down for her lips, but didn’t want to risk the paparazzi coming after her.

“I should just let Coco Pommel go tonight. Go upstairs, get some sleep, and everything will be fine tonight and tomorrow.”

But I can’t. She is seeking food for herself, and she’ll be there for a long time. And this late at night, the place will be packed, so I could blend in if needed!

Don’t do it, Finish. We’ve come this far to ruin it.

I find it hard to listen to my inner voice, imagining Coco Pommel by herself, saddened that I wasn’t there to keep her company while she ate and ate and ate and—

Finish, think of the risks!

Think of what I’m missing out on! A chance to see my prize actually work her magic!

She slammed her hoof on the table. “I am going!” With a grin, she added, “I am just going to be discreet about it.”

Her body was made up first, and then her mind joined in. She galloped upstairs, flung her towel into the bathroom, and went into her bedroom to make plans for that night.

If there was something Photo Finish was good at, other than photography and strictness, it was moving about inconspicuously. Under the cover of being a bush, she sidled her way through her backyard, through her fence (a feat that would have been impossible for anypony that didn’t know about the loose bar), and along the streets of Canterlot. She had mastered the art of standing still at the flicker of a light or the sound of hoofsteps, and even if somepony behind her was looking out of their window. She knew the city well enough.

She made it to Pies to the Skies without difficulty, but not without paranoia. Better to be safe than sorry, she told herself. As she had expected, the place was packed with families, of colts and fillies jumping around from a sugar rush. It was the perfect place for a single mare of prodigious size to waltz on in and chow down.

No paparazzo in sight. No paparazzo out of sight. I am good. Emerging from her bush, she crossed the street and opened the front door.

Sweet smells assaulted her senses almost immediately, and it was almost enough to make her faint. But she just kept her composure and walked up to the front desk.

“Hiya!” A cheerful stallion greeted. “Are you here by yourself?”

“N-yes.” Finish looked around for any sign of her. It would take some time among the families of sugar-rushed ponies. “One, please.”

“Al-right!” The stallion flipped a menu into his apron with a hoof, and turned to lead the way. “We have one booth open. Just follow me.”

They maneuvered their way through several tables, just barely avoiding the foals rocking their chairs back and forth. Nopony recognized her; Finish had been careful not to wear either her goggles or her trademarked dress. Eventually, she spotted Coco Pommel sitting by herself, her belly pressing into the table, mmm!.

And then she realized that the booth next to Coco was empty. She began to sweat.

“Here we are—“

She immediately dove into it, before Coco could look at her. Her heart pounded. No, this wasn’t supposed to happen! I was supposed to be far away from her, not at the table next to her! If the paparazzi sees both of us so close together… She sighed raggedly.

“Erm… The stallion brought out the menu and set it on the table. “W-would you like anything to drink?”

“Water,” Finish said with as hoarse a voice as she could force. “Lots of it, please. It has been a long day, and I feel it will be a long night, too.”

Author's Note

Had to push through a specific part that had been driving me insane before I could finish this chapter. Not an excuse to put it off for so long, but that is an explanation for why this is so late.

I couldn't come up with an incident that suited this chapter, so I left it out. I do have one for the next time, so keep an eye out for that.

I have already started on the next chapter, and it will be out on the 31st of this month (as long as I don't run into any more roadblocks). I know what i want to happen in the next one and the one after that, so it should go smoothly.