Macintosh found himself wandering the dirt roads of Ponyville, trying desperately to remember which house it was he had once picked the girls up from. It was a baby-blue two-story set-up if he remember correctly, with windows large enough that he could see the three fillies sprint down the staircase all the way outside into the apple cart he had been pulling. An older stallion and mare had waved to him from the welcome mat, and he had nodded back. Hopefully he would not see this happy couple today, lest they have questions for him.

Macintosh shuddered at the thought of Sweetie Belle's father popping up behind him, just as he had finished saying "Come see me when you are older." Chivalrous or not, he was still talking about potential romantic relations with a stallion's daughter.

As he rounded another corner his stomach leaped as a familiar stallion slammed the front door of an equally familiar house. He watched the stallion rip the dopey straw hat off of his head and run a hoof through his mane, the portion of the mouth Macintosh could actually see under the mustache was parted by clenched teeth.

"No respect at all in my own goddamn house." Sweetie Belle's father was not exactly shouting, but he did not bother to be exactly subtle either about his statement as he crossed the tidy little lawn and threw himself down into a cheap plastic lawnchair. He didn't seem to notice Macintosh staring at him from the street opposite from him, probably because his chair was parked in such a manner for him to stare at the wall of the neighbors' house. From the pocket of the tacky Hawiian shirt he wore he withdrew a carton of cigarettes, the bluish-green label of menthol standing out on its lip.

Taking this as his opportunity, Mac adjusted Sweetie's abandoned bag on his back and set a steady pace for the house. There were relatively few ponies out and about besides the occasional group of foals playing, perhaps due to the market being closed. Whether that was the case or not, Macintosh's hoofsteps drew the attention of the stallion rather quickly in the relative silence of the empty street. Sweetie's father didn't attempt to hide his frown as Macintosh drug his hooves up to the sidewalk lining the house.

"You're not selling nothing are ya?" The stallion asked, a cloud of the menthol smoke escaping from his mouth and trailing through the heavy mustache. Macintosh had never met the stallion up close, but he could tell a lot about somepony based on the tobacco they chose. And menthol was a very "limp-dick" smoke for a stallion, or so said Macintosh's Uncle Tart.

"No sir, I'm Applebloom's brother. Sweetie forgot her saddlebag." Macintosh avoided the eyes of the stallion, like if they caught his gaze Sweetie's father would be able to read his mind. Even if Macintosh was innocent of being receptive of this stallion's daughter's affection, there was some level of coldness that had dropped deep into his stomach.

"I sent her on to her sister's place a little while ago." He trailed off as he looked back at the neighbor's wall, the tiny stick of tobacco held just beyond the touch of his lips.

"Mind if I leave it here?" Truth be told, Macintosh hoped he did mind. He couldn't lie to himself, he had been looking forward to the conversation with Sweetie Belle. Some reclusive voice in the back of his mind, like the gifted outcast in the last seat of the classroom, told him he wanted to see a smile underneath those large eyes.

"Just set it by the door," he motioned with his neck behind him, "I'm swinging by Rarity's later to drop off her toothbrush."

Macintosh made a hesitant step up the cement walkway to the front door, finally noticing the rustle of the blinds in the window. He imagined it was the lady of the household, who perhaps had been ready to follow her husband out to the front yard.

"Is uh...is the missus ok?" Macintosh gestured with the point of his hoof at the window. The stallion motioned with his body to look at the window, but his expression did not change. He let the sissy-smoke curl out from his nostrils, perhaps an effort to lock the scent into his mustach, and turned back around in the chair, seemingly unaffected.

"Oh she'll be fine once she takes half of my home and custody of my daughter." His heavy statement ironically came in the most boring of voices, as if he had been expecting the situation for years.

Macintosh lowered his hoof, expecting the stallion to elaborate. No further words came though, only a motion from the stallion's hoof that Macintosh did not know if was meant to ease the tension or not. The slight wave beckoned him to venture forth to the door, Sweetie's bag suddenly feeling like a security blanket of sorts.

Too late did he notice the shadow sailing away from the window as he stepped onto the welcome mat, the figure moving in exaggerated strides.

"I thought I told you to get--" the mare's face was irate for a second as she swung the door open. She blinked as Macintosh flinched away and she tried to replace the haggard look on her face with an obviously fake, pained smile.

"Sorry, Magnum didn't tell me we were expecting company." She smiled and didn't take her eyes off of Macintosh, but her ears cocked themselves in the direction of the stallion in the yard.

"I didn't know we were expecting any," the stallion paused and took a long and heavy drag on the cigarette, the flame eating down to the filter. "...dear"

Macintosh watched the word swirl away with the cold smoke into the breeze, and the mare's smile dropped like a brick.

"Was there something you wanted Mr. Macintosh?" She asked, staring bullets through the back of the Magnum's head.

"Sweetie Belle left this." Macintosh answered quietly with a nod towards the bag on his back. He was a bit taken aback that she knew his name while her husband did not. Perhaps she had heard the name from Rarity and not Sweetie Belle, or so wishful thinking willed him to believe. Wordlessly he stretched his neck down, allowing the mare to grab the straps.

She gave a tired smile as she closed the door, bag in tow and spoke no further words to either stallion.

Now Macintosh was no dunce, he had one or two spelling bee trophies to prove it shoved away in his closet. He recognized a married couple on their last legs here. Deciding this was no place for him to be, he turned to trot away with no intentions to address Magnum as he passed, and judging by the cigarette lighter held in his hoof and igniting a new sissy-stick he had no intention of speaking to Macintosh either.

He marched away, leaving the broken home of his would-be suitress without a look back to the stallion still planted in his chair.

****

A knock at the door took Sweetie Belle by surprise, the stream of milk she had just let into her mouth running down the wrong tube.

"I got it..." She managed to choke out between the coughing fits.

"Are you ok Sweetie?" Rarity peered over the rim of her glasses, watching Sweetie pound lightly on her chest as she worked the milk out of her windpipe. With a quick wave of her hoof Sweetie signaled she was fine, swallowing as her coughs calmed.

Outside the door Macintosh suddenly felt the self-conscious urge to smooth down his mane as voices perked up after his knock. He licked the edge of his hoof and worked it quickly down the hair, only to let fly a curse as it laid down in front of his eyes like an edgy little colt.

Sweetie poked her nose out the door, the large stallion beyond the wood frame honestly not being a surprise so much as an awkward inconvenience. Awkward because she had cried in front of him only hours before, and also because as she opened the door he was fidgeting with his hair. Macintosh wasn't the kind of stallion who cared for that sort of thing, or so she thought.

"Yeah?" Sweetie's voice was quieter than she wanted, yet it still made Macintosh jump and poke himself in the eye with a hoof that had busied itself with a rather rebellious lock of his mane. He attempted to play it off of course, but he couldn't help rubbing at the watering eye.

"Hey Sweetie." Actually looking at the filly was harder than he had imagined. Her eyes though no longer puffy held the same weight as when he had seen them just a little while ago. The fact that he had made them hold something heavier than the densest lead made his thoughts equally as heavy, and they scraped along his throat as he tried to voice them.

"I jus' wanted to make sure you were ok." Macintosh struggled to make the words sound genuine, which was the least his guilty mind could do for her.

"I-I mean, ah wanted you to understand why I said what I said."

Sweetie frowned and stepped back from the door, her tail swaying a bit and her brow furrowed.

"All I understand is that everypony just thinks I'm some dumb filly." She said as she puffed her chest out. "You don't have to like me like that but..."

Sweetie trailed off and let her steely gaze falter. She kicked at the baby-blue fibers under her hooves and tried to put words to the thought. Macintosh cut her off, voicing a reply before she had even finished her statement.

"I didn't say I didn't like you Sweetie." Macintosh let his eyes roll back in annoyance at himself, realizing too late that his big mouth was leaking a bit too much commitment.

"What I mean is," he began again after he licked his lips. "I'm not saying I couldn't like you one day, when you're older."

Sweetie let one hoof hold onto the door, half of her wanting to slam the door and another, more hopeful half wanted to hear the stallion out.

"You'd meet somepony by then." She replied, thoughts of the day she and her friends had poisoned him and their teacher. At the time she was thrilled by the sight of Applebloom's brother kissing her teacher, but now the thought made her insides burn and her throat tighten.

"Well I haven't had much luck so far..." Macintosh said, recounting the years he had remained single. Looking back, the situation was actually rather sad considering he hadn't bothered to "save himself" for marraige and yet here he was single for more than four years.

Sad, but perhaps not terrible considering he had no foals. Cousin Candy was working on her fifth foal already, and goodness knew it's older siblings were nothing to look at.

"But that doesn't mean you won't look!" Sweetie pointed her hoof accusingly at him before returning it to its secure position on the door. Just the thought that HER stallion could have thoughts about other mares...it made her jealous. Self-esteem came in short bursts for a filly her age, nothing too substantial that she could ignore the endowments even her older sister possessed. Full, swaying hips. Supple teats. Long eyelashes and flowing tails.

Such things were the basic allures of any mare, the proverbial bait to their personality's hook.

Macintosh readied a retort but let it go, knowing she was speaking the truth. Sexual attraction was part of what made a male a male and he wasn't no foal-fiddler, that was for damn sure. Sweetie Belle didn't even have a Cutie Mark yet to signify her approaching adulthood.

Sweetie Belle watched the stallion shift from hoof to hoof, obviously trying to find something to say and coming up short. She was right after all, Miss Cheerilee was still out there. Miss Fluttershy, Miss Twilight, and even her sister were all competition for her. And each one was a mare she knew she couldn't beat with dedication alone.

"Look Sweetie...." Macintosh rubbed the back of his neck, searching for words that wouldn't seal him to the hopes and dreams of an overly-enthusiastic little filly. Sure it was POSSIBLE they might end up dating once she was an adult. But that was a long time to wait with no affection, no hugs or kisses, and especially no sex.

"Sweetie, could you be a dear and go find the tea kettle for me?" Rarity, having been hiding around the corner loomed into view over her sister. Sweetie peered up at her with confusion and agitation evident on her face, that is until she saw one blue eye wink down at her.

"Alright Rarity..." Sweetie said warily, knowing the wink meant business but still worried about the outcome. She turned and walked away, giving Macintosh a soft, hurt glance before she picked up her pace and ran for the kitchen.

"I'm sorry Mr. Macintosh," Rarity put her hoof over her chest and leaned against her door frame, smiling sadly. "Sweetie Belle has put a lot into this little crush."

"I know." Macintosh replied with a sigh. He ran his hoof through the mane he had tried to fix only minutes before and stared at his hooves.

"She says she's been cooking for you?" Rarity feigned surprised interest, knowing full well the extent to which Sweetie Belle's dedication entailed.

"Eeyup, everyday." Macintosh chewed at the side of his mouth as he finished his sentence, still not able to look up at the mare in front of him.

'Here it comes,' he thought. 'This is the part where she tells me to stay away. Far far away.'

"I personally think its endearing." Rarity leaned down to catch Macintosh's eye, a smile and watery eyes making up her features.

"Well yeah but ya think its appropriate?" Macintosh raised a brow as he asked the question, surprised he wasn't getting cold threats and cooler eyes.

"Oh its just a fillyhood crush darling." She waved a hoof and leaned more heavily on the door-frame. "Every girl has them." She said matter-of-factly.

"So she'll grow out of it?" He asked, his guilt receding finally.

"More than likely. I'd just let it play out dear." Rarity closed her eyes and nodded, thinking back to the princes she fantasized about in her foalhood.

"Well I suppose if ya think its best." Macintosh looked at his hooves again, stretching one as a means of diverting his attention from the awkward conversation.

"If you don't mind humoring her for a little longer I'll tell her you'll be waiting for her at lunch time."

Macintosh chuckled at the tinge of humor in the mare's voice. The situation was a little funny after all. Sweetie Belle was just a little filly with a little crush. Who was he not to be a gentleman about it.

"Ya know I went by your parents' place today," he looked up to see the smile fade. Rarity sighed and rubbed a hoof along her snout, knowing full well what Macintosh wanted to ask.

"I take it y'all aren't all peaches n' cream are ya?" Macintosh tried to keep his tone light, so as to not anger the unicorn.

"Let's just say I'm not surprised Sweetie chose now of all times to want to have a coltfriend."

Author's Note

This was written during a new schedule at work (I work during the day instead of at night now. It's getting hard to adjust, but the sunlight feels great in the morning!) so if I've screwed up on my grammar by all means point it out!

Be sure to hit that like button if you like what you see, and if you hate it then feel free to flame the shit outta me in the comments!!!!