Author's Note

Ark relates more of his (mis) adventures with Fluttershy.
Ark and his squad mates used handles while in the field. Ark was referred to as Ark Angel, Joey Tribbiani was given the handle "Tribble," because he was damn near harmless in Basic. The other handles in the squad are explained in the chapter.

And now for your biweekly dose of D'awws!

4 Army Buddies

Summer Grasses Are a Soldier's Dreams
A Vogonverse story featuring Fluttershy

Time: 14:45 hours (2:15 PM EDT), Wednesday, June, 19th, 2058

Location: 800 Poly Place, Brooklyn, New York

Place: Group Therapy Room

Session Conductor: Dr. Vanessa Ozbourne, PhD., Psychotherapy

Once again, the Group Therapy Room is filled with patients whose wounds are disparate as their ethnicities. The only individual that is not a patient amongst this group is the buttery anthromorph sitting besides a young man with a pair of cybernetic legs. She is burdened with a pregnant belly, but you wouldn't know it by the way she speaks, laughs, and otherwise carries herself. Fluttershy is feminine grace in a hybrid equine body. In some ways, Doctor Vanessa Ozbourne is jealous. She hides it under her professional demeanor, allowing the young couple to speak of their experiences.

"How are you doing today, Miss Fluttershy?" She asks.

"Oh, I'm doing well," Fluttershy beams, "although, lately, I've had to pee a lot more often than I'd like. According to my OB-GYN, that's normal for a woman having a baby. Although, I don't remember my mama ever having to go so much…"

"Well, you are having triplets, vozlyublennoy," Ark responds, "that's got to mess with a normal voiding cycle."

"Maybe you're right," Fluttershy says, "I shouldn't worry myself over something so silly."

"It's the miracle of life," Rachel said, "it's messy. Get used to it."

"And you're a new mother," Dr. Ozbourne added, "of course there are things which will drive new anxieties into your head. Thankfully, you have a wonderful husband and many just as wonderful friends to help you ease into the transition."

"That's true," Ark says, nuzzling his wife's cheek, "and I ain't goin' nowhere."

"Ah, Ark," Fluttershy coos, "you are so wonderful!"

All the females in the room emit a collective sigh when Ark and Fluttershy share a tender kiss.

"You are two are so cute together!" PFC Madison Wombley squeals.

"Oh, uh, thank you," Fluttershy breathes.

"Trust me when I tell you this, though," Ark adds, "we weren't always this way. There are still some things that will get under each others skin, sometimes."

"Praytell, Sergeant," Dr. Ozbourne asks, "what things?"

"So glad you asked," Ark replies.

Ark's Perspective

We had gotten back from Williams' wedding two days after we set out. We wished Andy and Pinkie off on their honeymoon on the Titanic 2. We were both incredibly exhausted, especially seeing as we had to come back into town through Jersey City. The engineer strike was still ongoing and NYP was shut down to a lack of personnel. Add to that the batteries in my cyberpros drained during the ride back into town and this was a miserable day so far. Fluttershy had to help me inside so I can set the batteries to recharge. I was so glad that was all over. And next I see jacob, I owe him a drink or maybe some pizza. We had only just settled back into the house, when Tolstoy emerges from the nucleus.

"Excuse me, my Lord," Tolstoy announces, "but there is a text sent by Master Jacob. He has invited to you join himself and his lady friend to an establishment named Ryan's Seafood."

"Huh," I mutter, "did you just get that? Cuz I coulda sworn there was a Ryan's Seafood in Oklahoma City."

"Actually, milord, that invitation was sent two days ago."

"WHAT THE FUCK, TOLSTOY?!" I roar.

"My apologies," Tolstoy huffs, "but the digital assistant that Master Jacob uses is an- officious personality with that daffy Liverpool accent that I detest so very much. I thought for certain he was attempting to defile the nucleus or plague with my core with a virus."

"Fuck you, Tolstoy," I growl, "Jake's an old friend and now he thinks I'm a Grade A asshole. Thank you very much…"

"Again, my apologies, milord," Tolstoy scoffs, "I also have an incoming call from someone who refers to themselves as 'Spaghetti.' I shall redirect the call to video mail?"

"No," I answer, "put Spaghetti on the line."

"As you wish, my Lord," Tolstoy acquiesces, "though I don't see the reason why." In moments, the face a pasty Italian boy emerges on the nucleus holostage.

"Yoyoyo, Ark Angel!" yells Corporal Gino "Spaghetti" Spagliani, "long time, no talk! Whatcha been up to, Sarge?"

"Oh, just chillin'," I reply, "just got back from Oh Kay See; I've got killer jet lag. Whatcha been you to, Spaghetti-Oh?"

"Chillaxin' wit my girl, enjoyin' the civilian life," Spaghetti says, "was hopin' we could gather the Squad for some five card. You in?"

"Fuck yeah, I'm in," I answer, "it's been forever since we've drawn a deck out. You keep in touch with the rest of the squad? How are Bumper, King, and Donut doin'?"

"Bumper? Man, he's ridin' desk at the Atlanta recruitment office. When you see him next, you're gonna need to salute him. He outranks you now."

"Bullshit!" I exclaim.

"No shit," Spaghetti says, "got bumped up to Second Loo, last I heard. Go figure; he's the only one in the squad that still all his original parts!"

"What about Donut?" I ask.

"Donut, dude?" Spaghetti groans, "Donut is back in racks. They're trying to sort out his programming and everything. Last i saw him, he had a screw loose or something; kept changing out of dresses and asking me if his looked fat."

"Yep, that's Donut," I reply, "what about King?"

"Cesar?" Spaghetti aks, "Heh, King has been doing duty at the Hood. They're using him to demonstrate tactical gear and last I heard from him, he's been put into Project Mythril."

"Project Mythril?" I ask.

"Yeah, some sort of new body armor test," Spaghetti says, "he let slip that Aperture and Misriah are working in conjunction to run the field tests. Something about exotic materials and molecularly bonded, nanoformed plating… I dunno. Sounds Black Box to me."

"Ha," I bark, "I bet he's making flush hand over fist!"

"You know it," Spaghetti replies, "he even bought himself a new car. Ya wanna know what it is?"

"Sure," I answer.

"A motherfuckin' Lambo, original ICE, Spyder style Gallardo!" Spaghetti shouts.

"Goddamn," I murmur, "that's so fuckin' flash…"

"No shit," Spaghetti confirms, "not too shabby for a kid outta the Compton Stacks."

"Not bad at all," I confirm.

"So," Spaghetti presses, "wanna get together, hang with the old squad, lose copious amounts credits?"

"Deal me in, motherfucker!" I revel.

"Sweet!" Spaghetti adds, "we'll be there Friday. I'll bring the beer."

"Dosvedanya! I reply and he tells me, "Buon giorno!"

"Who was that, Ark?" Flutters questions.

I answer, "That was an old Army buddy of mine. He and the surviving members of my squad are coming over Friday for some poker and a bowl session."

"Oh, you're bringing some friends over?" Flutters aks.

"Yup," I say, "if you like, I can introduce you to 'em."

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Flutters says, "but, if you want to, I don't have a problem with it."

"Okay," I say, "I'm sure they're gonna love ya, but I'd rather you get introduced after everypony is relaxed and settled in. Sound okay to you?"

"Okay!" she beams.

Fuck, if she keeps up a cute face like that, I'm gonna need to beat the boys off with a stick. Or maybe a club…

For the remainder of the week, Fluttershy and I try to keep ourselves occupied. She had Katya look after Snuggles and the poor little thing came back dolled up like a runway model from Fredericks of Hollywood. The little guy was shaking furiously when he came back; it took Flutters all of five minutes to get him back to his old frisky self. The poor kitten… Oh, and the Petsmart within The Village was asking around for volunteers to help some rescue dogs get adopted. I don't think I have to tell you who signed up on first blush. I came with just in case she got some hassle. Thankfully, none of the idiots in Dissonance came by and there plenty of people that were plenty fascinated by fluttershy helping out with the adoption drive.

Oh, and get this, she was even offered an associate position at PetSmart. Can you believe it? She initially turned it down, I think she finally caved when some of the associates had some trouble with a rottweiler that was acting out. She was to calm him down and get him into a pen. This truly impressed the in awe staff and the manager was hard pressed to figure out how she was able to do it. He explained that dog, whose name is Fluffy (that's one hell of misnomer there) had been troublesome from the get go. I'm more than certain that Fluttershy was happy to help out and now she's gonna paid to do so. You should've seen her; the smile on her face was priceless!

Meanwhile, I was keeping in contact with Jacobs girl, Babs or Barbara as likes herself to be called. She was trying to get contact with Flutters about adopting a cat. I told her that Flutters rescued a litter of kittens the other week; one or two hadn't been adopted by the Humane Society yet, so I would make some inquiries and see which ones were left. She was pleased with that, but she then went into a line of questioning about Jake himself. Specifically, she asked about his energy sword. Hell, I hadn't thought about that thing since before I went to Basic.

The story Jake told me was that Ronald Cromwell, a relation of his, had owned the company until Michael Davis somehow cheated him out of it. The blade, which was part of a military project that was cuttled after Davis took over, was supposed to represent a substantial evolution in military hardware. I dunno if it would run in conjunction with Project Mythril, but it sure sounded like it. I wonder how long it will take it before Glossman figures that Jacob hs the prototype… Anyway, she asked some questions about Jake himself, most of which I didn't have accurate information. The pills were something new to me; he wasn't taking anything before I went off to Fort Hood.

And then Friday came. Most of my old squad mates where arriving in the early evening, some time after six, from the way Spaghetti said it. The brownstone was relatively clean, but I did have to convince Tolstoy that i had other guests coming over and none of them were staying the night. Digging out my poker cards wasn't that much of a challenge, but I now had to remind myself about cleaning up the place. I thought discipline had been drilled into my skull during basic; I guess it went out sight, out of mind.

Soon enough that friday, a taxi arrived with all my old friends in it. Pvt. Gerald "Bumper" Hickman, PFC Cesar Oscar "King" Montiel, Cpl. Gino "Spaghetti" Spagliani and Sgt. Katy "Donut" McAvoy arrived on my stoop. Thank Faust I hadn't set Tolstoy to greet them or else things would have been awkward for the rest of the night. I met them at the door, invited them in, and gave them a quick tour of the place. Fluttershy hadn't got back from work yet, so they didn't meet her then. As he said earlier, Spaghetti brought the beer, Bumper had brought some quality endo with him (marijuana has been legal for public consumption in both a medical and recreational sense for almost twenty years), and both King and Donut brought snacks. I kinda wished Donut hadn't brought snacks; the 100 calorie snack packs he brought were less than what one would expect from a poker game.

"Damn it, Donut! What's with the snack packs?" King asked.

"I wanted a snack that would not go to my hips," answered Donut with a straight face.

"Dude," I grumbled, "you're an AnthroCom! Food doesn't go to your hips, it just settles on your motherboard!"

"Still," Donut retorted, "I do not wish to take the chance."

"Kee-rist, Donut," Bumper says, "when they programmed you, they really went off the reservation, didn't they?"

"I do not understand the question…" Donut replied.

"Fuck it," Spaghetti interjected, "let's play cards."

"That's interesting," Dr. Ozbourne says.

"What's interesting, Doc?" Ark asks.

"Well, your friend Katy. He's an AnthroCom but he acts feminine." Dr. Ozbourne replies.

"Yeah," Ark starts, "there was a mix up when he was constructed. He was ordered to be a companion for some bigwig within Vanguard Security, but some computer cracker got into the database at HyperDyne and messed with the code for almost ten thousand AnthroComs in production that day. Katy was amongst them; he would get reshelled with a male architecture with all the programming of his former feminine self. You can imagine how that went over for the client."

"Huh," is all Dr. Ozbourne replies with.

"Well, anyway, we got about three or four hands in when Fluttershy returns home," Ark says.

"That- was an interesting experience," Fluttershy comments, "I still don't know if how I got through that."

Fluttershy's Perspective

"Ark, I'm home!" I announce.

In the living room is a dense cloud of smoke and the sounds of several stallions talking coarsely. The smoke is sickly sweetly and a tad acrid. I've never smelt anything like it. It's also making me a little woozy. I couldn't understand why at the time. The coarse language, on the other hand, I understood; I didn't like it when Ark said them, but this was a group of stallions using them for every other word in a sentence. I just hoped that Snuggles wasn't in the living room…

"Zat you, Flutters?" Ark asked.

"Yes," I called back, "what is going on in here?!"

"We're playin'," answers Spaghetti, "and I'm winnin'!"

"That's wat you think, Fagliani!" retorts Bumper.

"Oi," Ark roars, "the homophobic shit doesn't get said in here!"

"Fuck me, Ark," Bumper replies, "when did you get all pussified?"

I then hear the sound of somepony getting slapped. I've been around Rarity enough to know that sound well.

"Gino, that will be enough," Donut says, "I am sorry, but the misogyny you are spouting must stop."

There's murmurs of agreement. I continue to walk into the brownstone, deeper into the dark haze, while my head gets fuzzier and fuzzier.

"Heya, Flutters," Ark says, a goofy grin on his face, "welcome home!"

I look at Ark, and then to the stallions seated around him. There's one with a hoofprint on his face; I think that one is the one they call Bumper. There's a stallion with lifeless eyes and a short cut blond mane. He smiles and I can see even in the haze that his smile is just too perfect. The stallion to Ark's left looks more like a colt; he's dark skin and darker hair make him stand out somewhat compared to the others. Across from my friend is pale stallion with a short cropped, dark mane; his pudgy cheeks and cunning eyes seem at odds with the rest of his motley crew.

"Damn, Ark Angel," calls out the pudgy faced stallion, "who is this? What is this?"

"Spaghetti, guys," Ark begins, "this is my good friend and roommate, Fluttershy. She's a Pegasus."

"Um, hello," I mutter, "n-nice to meet y-y-you all."

They stare at me. Oh, I always hate when ponies stare at me.

"Flutters, let me introduce you to the boys," Ark says, "the guy with a faceprint on him is Bumper. He was our wheel man in Afghanistan. He got called bumper after getting into to many accidents with the local automotives. To his left is Donut, Katy McAvoy. If you haven't sussed it out yet, he's an AnthroCom. His handle is a reference to the old machinima series, Red Vs. Blue. This guy here," Ark brings his hand to the withers of the dark haired colt, "is King, ay kay ay, Cesar Oscar Montiel. He's called King because his given name reminds us of Cesar, the first Emperor of Rome. Oh, and the guy across from me? That's Gino 'Spaghetti' Spagliani. We call him Spaghetti cuz an old sergeant can't be chuffed to pronounce his name right and that's what he came up with."

"Sergeant Baker wasn't the most imaginative dude," Spaghetti said, "albeit, he was dealing with some of the rowdiest troops in the known world."

"Oh, yeah, I remember," Ark says wistfully, "what was that prank that Joey played on Lt. Jenkins? The hair dye in his shampoo bottle?"

"Oh, yeah, I remember that," Bumper says, "man, Major Stanison had the biggest conniption fit over that; I can still remember the look on her face. 'Lieutenant, you do know that pink is not a regulation Army hair color, do you?'"

There's a round of raucous laughter; I have an idea of what happened. It does bring a smile to my face, although that may be the effect of this haze.

"Lt. Leroy Jenkins," murmurs King, "may God bless and keep him."

"I think we all remember his last words before that RPG took him out." Ark says, then in unison, the group of stallions shout, "LEROY! JENKINS!" This is followed by more laughter.

I'm not sure I get it; these stallions are laughing at nothing.

"Hey, hey, Flutters!" Ark calls.

"Yes?" I ask.

"You want some pizza? Spaghetti was able to grab a pie or two from Famous Ray's." Ark says.

"With shrimp?" I ask tentatively.

"Nah," Spaghetti said, "didn't think anybody wanted that."

"Oh, okay," I reply, a little disheartened, "well, if there's a cheese pizza, I can eat that."

"Yeah, there's a cheese," Bumper said, "but don't eat all of it. That one's mine!"

"Don't listen to that bendejo," King tells me, "there's two cheese pizzas; I'm lactose intolerant. Thanks for remembering, Spaghetti… You can have a coupla slices."

"Oh, thank you," I say, "uh, King, was it?"

King nods, "Yup."

I give him a smile and then walk towards a small tower of pizza cartons left on the coffee table. My objective is sitting there, laying amongst the detritus of beer cans, strange squares of paper, a leafy substance that smells like the haze in the room, and several lighters. There's also a glass cylinder that is partly filled with water; the cylinder has a pipe jutting out from it at an odd angle. I don't know why, but I'm exceptionally famished. I take three slices of the open cheese pizza; the taste is heavenly! Most ponies shy away from cheese. I know amongst the unicorns, cheese is something considered a "low brow, mud pony fare." I never understood that; cheese is delicious! I know Twilight likes it; I think Rarity does, too.

"Mmm, this is so good," I moan, "what kind of cheese is this, Ark?"

"Mozzarella," I think," Ark replies, "doesn't Famous Ray's use parmesan on their pies, too?"

"Yeah," Spaghetti answers, "but ordered these with provolone and asiago, too. Only the best for our game fuel!"

I saunter back to the card table, where Ark and his friends are playing some kind of card game. I look over Ark's cards; this is when I get my first big surprise about living in New York, or for that matter, living in this world. The cards these stallions are using are all weird… Where is the Princess? What is this Ace? How come there isn't a card an higher then ten? This is so confusing!

"See anything ya like, darlin'?" Bumper asks.

I reply, "More something I don't understand."

"Howda ya mean, Flutters?" Ark asks.

"The cards, they're all weird…" I answer.

"How are they weird?" Spaghetti wonders.

"Well, for starters," I say, "how come none of your cards go any higher than ten? And what is this 'Ace' card? Where did the 'Princess' card go to? Is that a 'Queen' card for? And the 'Jack,' what is a jack?"

"What the fuck is she goin' on about?" King asks.

"It's a cultural thing, King," Ark says, "hey, Donut, you got that book on ya? Hoyle's Rules?"

"Ah, yes," Donut starts, "I do have it."

Donut then produces a pristine copy of a book entitled "Hoyle's Rules of Games" from an inner vest pocket.

"You may keep this, miss Fluttershy," Donut says, "I keep several copies on my person at all times and I have a digital copy on my hard drive."

"Oh, thank you," I say, taking the book from Donut, "does this explain how the cards work and everything?"

"Yes, it does, my dear," Donut answers, "and shall be able to understand this fine game that we are playing with great ease."

"So says you," Bumper retorts, "you ain't won a hand all night."

"I do this for the camaraderie," Donut announces, "not so I can feel horrible about losing small sums of money."

"Whatever," Bumper snorts, "you're still down three hundred scrip."

"Hey fellas," Spaghetti says, "are we a social circle or are we playing poker?"

"Poker," barks Ark, "and I call."

"That sounds interesting…" Dr. Ozbourne remarks.

"Doc," Ark begins, "you don't know the half of it."

Fluttershy's Perspective

I would spend the next two hours pouring over the book. So many games…! I've heard of some of these, they're roughly equivalent to games we have in Equestria, but the way they're played is so different! The other's in this book are beyond what I know. Bridge, whist, canasta, these I've never heard of! Though, given an in depth analysis of the style and patterns of play, I can say, without any doubt, that Ark and his friends are playing poker. (They said so earlier, but I didn't know how to play it or even what it was about.) I believe I also know what this haze is. Marijuana was never officially banned in Equestria, but it wasn't thought of as detrimental, thus most ponies rarely imbibed of the stuff. I would use it sometimes as a healing herb, but I never smoked it. Humans are so weird…

"Hey, look who's come back," Bumper greets, "so, how do you like the game so far, honey cheeks?"

"Watch it," Ark growls, "she's my friend, not your latest conquest."

"Hey, man, I'm just being friendly," Bumper starts before Donut adds, "your manner of friendship borders on sexual deviancy."

"Cha," King says, "you're normal way of saying hello is whip out your dick."

"Fuck you guys!" Bumper roars, "I ain't gotta take any of this shit."

"Aw, come on, Lou," Spaghetti starts, but by then Bumper is out of his chair and out the door.

"Well, that was somethin'," King deadpans, "hey, señorita, you wanna step in on this game?"

"Who, me," I startle, "oh, I don't know…"

"Come on," Spaghetti pleads, "you've been reading that rulebook fer two hours! You hafta have learned how to play poker by now."

"Oh, well, I know mostly how to play," I say.

When I look at Ark for confirmation that I can sit or not, I see he has this strange look on his face. I can't tell if he's concerned I'm going to get fleeced of all my hard earned scrip or if he believes there might be a card sharp in me somewhere. I give him a warm smile; I'd rather not clue him in in case somepony accuses him of cheating.

"Aw, hell," Ark moaned, "Flutters, you better get in here before your smile gives us all a collective heart attack."

My smile widens as I take my seat, turning my grin on the rest of the table.

"Hnng!" King pantomimes, "I is having the diabeetus now!"

Spaghetti adds, "Dayum, girl, you can stop traffic just by walkin' by! And don't get me started on that grin o' yers. Make grown men weep with that smile, I swear!" Then indicating Ark with his thumb, "And you stay with this schmuck? Life is unfair…"

"I think I speak for all males in the world when I say that you are too cute for words, Miss Fluttershy," adds Donut.

"Oh, thank you!" I squeak.

"Okay, okay," Ark intervenes, "the mutual admiration society is over. I thought we were playing cards?"

"Yes, certainly," I remark, "oh, if it's not too much trouble, could you not smoke so much, everypony? I would rather not like to suffer a contact high."

"Pinche de madre!" King shouts, "How in the hell did you get a four of a kind in threes?!"

"Oh, I guess I'm just lucky?" I stammer, although from the look Ark gives me, I would say he knows it's more than luck.

"Damn, girl," Spaghetti says, "I knew you were kinda odd looking, with the horsey features and all, but behind that cute face is a card shark-"

"Card sharp," Donut interrupts, before Spaghetti continues, "card sharp that could put a professional poker player to shame!'

The pile of scrip notes amassed in front of me agrees, "Oh, well, this is the first time I've played this game."

"I cannot believe I fell for that bluff," Donut adds, "I was certain that my dummy straight was a solid hand…"

"Yeah," Ark smirks, "that's why it's called a 'dummy straight'; you'd have to be a dummy tot think you'd get it."

Everypony, including myself, agrees to that, before Spaghetti and King yawn in unison.

"Aw, man," King says, "I lost to a cute girl. I lost to a cute girl to the total of twenty-five thousand scrip. I make that in a week, ya know, but still, harsh!"

"Ah, you'll get over it ya big baby," Spaghetti says, "well, I dunno about youse guys, but I'm tapped. I sure as hell ain't stayin' in The City. It was good seein' ya, Ark."

"Likewise, fellas," Ark replies, "and next time, don't underestimate this Pegasus."

The guys nod, King giving the most solemn of the gestures and the stallions clear out. Some head for waiting cabs (Donut, Spaghetti) while King mounts his Boss Hoss and rides towards Upper Manhattan. I'm still having some trouble with differentiating between Manhattan and Manehattan. They sound so similar…

"Scrip note for your thoughts," Ark says, "you seem a little preoccupied."

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry," I reply, "there was just so much I've seen of your friends behavior and your own. It's made me rethink a lot of what I used to know."

"Like what?" Ark inquires.

"When did you start smoking marijuana?" I question.

"Is that a problem?" Ark says.

"It might be," I return, "I don't ever remember you saying you smoked that. And I don't remember you ever mentioned that you had."

"Well, I have," Ark retorts, "but it's not a habitual thing. I don't go out to Costco's and ask about their fine selection of endo. It's legal here, and while it might not be cheap but it's often better than nursing a hangover from vodka. Practically everypony in America has done it."

"I'm not sure I like that reasoning," I reply, "but if it's legal, then I guess there's nothing stopping you from using it. The thing I really want to know is, why do you stallions like to say such hurtful things to each other. You were really mean to Spaghetti, Donut, and King. I can understand Bumper; he needs an attitude adjustment. By why you were being so mean to your only friends?"

"Uh, well," Ark stutters, "well, truth be told, it's not something I think about. I guess it's a camaraderie thing? I guess when you fight alongside guys you wouldn't normally get along with, you try everything not to bring up shit-"

"Okay, I'm not liking that either." I growl.

"I'm sorry?" Ark moans.

"When you say words like- that. The 's' word, and the 'f' word, and all the other words that are supposed to be profane, I don't like them," I say, "Maybe I'm a little high right now, but I can't stand it when you think that makes you seem tough or funny. Ark, I don't want you using another curse word again."

"Okay," Ark says a little hesitantly, "I'll try."

"Thank you," I remark, "you were saying?"

"Oh, yeah," Ark begins, "well, when you're fighting for your life with guys that you have nothing in common with, you start, I dunno, finding ways to make them more common to you. And yeah, sometimes we, you'll excuse the expression, 'bust each others balls.' Male bonding is not an exact science or civil. I still don't know how you girls do it."

I nod, "I guess we prefer to see each other as good friends until proven otherwise."

Ark just nods.

I continue, saying, "Anyway, there is one last thing I wanted to know."

"That being?" Ark asks.

"What is up with the one you call Donut?" I inquire, "He- doesn't seem right."

"Well, because he isn't," Ark replies, which causes me to frown, so he continues, "I'm pretty sure I explained this, but maybe you didn't fully understand. Katy McAvoy, that's his name. One of the few HyperDyne AnthroComs still in existence. Originally, he was supposed to be companion to some muckety muck in Vanguard Security, but Anonymous, the net hacker cooperative, got ahold of their main server and played around with it. They rewrote all the codes and protocols for some ten thousand 'Coms that day. Seeing as he was meant to be some yuppie arm candy, Anonymous changed his production code over to a male case but kept all the feminine programming intact. So, he's a little off, because his programming and his casing are at odds. I guess he's like a girl trapped in a mans body, or something."

"Well." I huff, "at least he's nice."

"Yeah, that can be said," Ark adds, "when he isn't glitching out on ya."

"Was he like that when you served with him?" I inquire.

"Just about," Ark says, then yawning, he adds, "Man, it's getting late. It's almost midnight. Do you have to work tomorrow?"

"Yes, I do," I answer, "uh, Ark?"

"Yeah?"

"Um, what do I do with all these notes?" I timidly ask.

"Well, you could buy yerself something nice," Ark replies, "or, maybe you could give it to somepony who needs it more. It's your lucre; do with it what you want."

"Okay," I murmur, "goodnight, Ark!"

"Goodnight, Fluttershy." Ark repeats.

Then we both stumble into our respective beds.

"So," Dr. Ozbourne confirms, "Ark's blatant use of profanity, his casual use of marijuana and his treatment of his friends were aspects of him you couldn't initially stand?"

"Oh, no, Doctor," Fluttershy answers, "I didn't like them. At all. Ark has gotten better about most things but there's always room for improvement."

"Agreed," Ark says, "and we haven't even begun to scratch the alcoholism in me, thanks to my father. Or the sundry other tidbits that made me a rather pitiable excuse for a human being."

As the rest of the circle nods, Doctor Ozbourne gives a small gasp.

"Everypony, it appears we ran over time! Uh, again, thank you all for coming! Be sure to sign in for the Fourth of July Picnic. I am assured that Captain Willibong will be making his famous chili and there will be plenty of entertainments for all. I hope to see you all here again on Friday!"

The crowd disperses, but not everyone is leaving. In fact, Ark and Fluttershy have remained behind for some reason.

"Yes, Sergeant?" Dr. Ozbourne asks, "Is there something I can do for you and your wife?"

"Actually, Doc," Ark says, "I was wondering about something."

"Well, please, ask me anything." The Doctor beams.

"How long have you been a brony?"

"Actually," Dr. Ozbourne corrects, "I prefer the term 'pegasister.' As for how long I've been a fan of Friendship is Magic, I'd say, most of my life."

"But how?" Fluttershy questions.

Doctor Ozbourne chuckles, saying, "Did you know that Friendship is Magic first aired when I was six years old? I fell in love with the series right from the start. I had to beg my mothers to take me to BronyCon when I was ten because I wanted to meet Andrea Libman and Brenda Crichlow, the voices behind my two favorite characters, Fleetfoot for Ms. Libman and Zecora for Ms. Crichlow. I also had something of a girl crush on you, Miss Fluttershy, but when the show ended, I moved on. You can only imagine my surprise when, decades later, one of my favorite ponies shows up wrapped around the arms of one of my patients. It was a bit surreal, to be honest."

"Oh," Fluttershy exclaims, "is that why you were so solicitous of me when I first arrived?"

"That was part of the reason," Doctor Ozbourne confesses, "but the other part was that I was in awe that you were here. And a part of me found you strangely attractive in your current form. Mind you, I'm married and I have a HelpMate of my own…"

"Excuse me, Doctor?"

"Oh, yes, Beatrice?"

"There's a- I guess, zebra lady, waiting for you in the lobby? She seems to speak only in rhyme."

"Oh, yes," Dr. Ozbourne squeaks, "my darling Zecora. She frets about me when I'm late."

"Well, then, Doc," Ark quips, "you shouldn't keep her waiting."

Fluttershy adds, "And if you or Zecora ever feel like dropping by, we'll be more than happy to entertain you."

"Thank you, Fluttershy, thank you, Ark!" Doctor Ozbourne beams, "I'll need to see if we can take you up on that offer. I know Zecora has been dying to see you."