The Many Sexual Escapades of Princess Twilight Sparkle

December 1963 (Oh, What A Night)

by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons

Oh, I

Got a funny feeling when she walked

Into the room, hey, my

As I recall, it ended much too soon

~~

   It was a casual affair. The highbrows of Canterlot were certainly present, but there were guild members and citizen-led boards and even a couple children there, in the grand hall at the center of the Castle Square. A massive room, lit bright with the flambeaux on every pillar, was closed against the midwinter night chill outside, and inside it was exactly what a casual affair would be.

   There was a quiet classical quartet in the far left corner, and a buffet table, and thick event-specific tapestries hanging densely on the walls, and a couple small groups of conversation, and everypony was waiting for the crowd to thin out and go home. The speakers had spoken, the voters had voted, the matter of tax principles and republican punishment had been heard and dealt with. The gathering would continue until the group itself decided it would stop.

   And, of course, as a Princess, Twilight Sparkle was given commission over a board of her own, the Voice of the Common Ponies. Luna didn't seem to mind when it was taken from her - she already had quite enough on her plate, she said, and Twilight needed to get acquainted with  the system.

   The group of ponies around her were the middle ground - common citizens living in the Capitol city, they had a direct line to government. And now she was that direct line. On her left, and around, were a doctor, a lawyer, and an accountant, like the setup for a joke.

   "You know, I hadn't seen him since we went to school together. What was that, ten years ago?" the lawyer was saying, and the accountant nodded. There was no way she could remember their names. "He grew his mane out and now he's doing freelance designer puck. I never thought he'd go that direction, but you take what you can get."

   "I know. For the longest time in high school, I wanted to write serial novels," she replied. She was probably trying too hard to get in touch with these ponies. It wasn't really worth it. "And now, hey, I guess I could have known."

   They laughed, and she tried to. This shouldn't be her jurisdiction. She just didn't feel comfortable around ponies she didn't know, ponies she frankly wasn't interested in.

   "Oh, it's probably about that time. I have to run," the doctor interjected, pulling at his suitcoat and nodding, again. Maybe he thought it meant more than it did. He extended a hoof to Twilight, and she shook it. "Very nice meeting you, Princess. I believe our board is in good hooves."

   She smiled, and nodded. Oh, good, now she was doing it. Probably looked like a bobblehead. "Nice meeting you, too," she replied, leaving out his name and hoping he wouldn't notice.

   The group turned and watched as he gathered his wife and trotted to the door. He didn't even get there before the door was opened for him.

   It happened so fast, so suddenly. The doors slammed against the walls behind them, and the winter wind poured in, blowing back fancy dresses and long coattails. And in came the group.

   They were a mob. A horde. Neon greens and long manes and body paint and piercings, thick coats and tight ropes, skinniness showing ribs and fetlocks covering hooves. Ragged, unannounced, their air preceded them. And Twilight was suddenly terrified. Everypony else seemed to read her thoughts, and many swarmed out the door as the mob flooded in.

   Nothing was broken, as they would find later, but the racket they were making made it seem like they were tearing the wallpaper off the walls. One of them, two from the back, had a huge speaker strapped onto him, a deadly screech of guitar and voice shuddering the windows around him. And the one leading the mob? A young mare, with a deep-set scowl and an angry red mane.

   Twilight stepped back to the guards, undoing her evening gown and tossing it aside. In case they meant trouble, she had to be agile. A couple guests had stayed, flat against the walls as the mob swarmed and the guards advanced, with shouts of cease and desist.

   Finally, one took the microphone. It was the leader of the pack, the tight denim jacket around her flapping as she jumped onto the stage. "You all know why we're here," she shouted, as the music from the music box died.

   There must have been almost two hundred of them, squeezing in front of the stage; some were dressed in the trademark, and some had no more than a beanie cap or simply nothing at all. The guards were trying to interweave the crowd as the leader spoke, their metal armors pushing even the largest and heaviest of Earth ponies back, making way for them as they attempted their push to the front.

   "We ain't breaking any laws here!"

   A shout. Twilight was still in a sort of shock, the adrenaline pumping through her rather failing as she began to realize that there wasn't much they could legally do. And... honestly, about what? Crashing a public event? That wasn't a particularly dangerous thing. Her mind was working overtime.

   "We know our rights, and we want 'em now!"

   Another shout. She looked around at the frightened ponies, some more than others, and then back at the speaker. More than anything, she rather wanted to get to her and ask a couple questions. It was her job, right? Civil relations?

   "Brutality in the ranks?"

   A hiss, a boo. This one knew how to control a crowd.

   "Racism, sexism, from officials?"

   Another boo, louder.

   "Did you all even think about that? At all, during this meeting thing?" Her eyes darted around the room, finally landing on Twilight. They were just barely tinged blue, but otherwise they were totally white, her irises only ringed by a golden glow. Insane eyes, sharp eyes, but she was taken aback for - another reason. "Come on up here."

   Twilight blinked, and turned around, then back. No, her eyes were still firmly rooted on her. She pointed to herself with a hoof. "Yeah, you. Purple. Fly on up here."

   She didn't have to. With another final glance around, hoping that maybe one of the higher-up Princesses would have arrived by that point, she considered her options as quickly as her mind would allow. Run, stand, or follow directions. Run was weak, stand was pointless. So...

   She kicked off and soared over the crowd, landing on the hollow, carpeted stage in a moment. Immediately, the mare had swaggered close and flung a foreleg around her, bringing the microphone stand with her. "This one is for us. And we have to teach her what we are!"

   A roar. A huge, throbbing sorry was echoing in her head. It was beyond uncomfortable being right up against this painted, shouting justice warrior, but she was... intrigued.

   "Did you know that somepony was found, lynched, just yesterday, in the sewers?" She shouted her question, but Twilight felt as though she'd whispered it to her. It sat solidly against her heart.

   The mic was moved to her. "Uh - y-yes, I read the report on it -"

   "Oh, the report!" she shouted to the crowd, who booed again. "Did you see it? He was a Pegasus, and he was lynched because he was different!" A road from the crowd, a perfect backing, drowning out any chance of Twilight coming out of this calm and collected. "The face of the city is pretty, sure, but its guts are vile!"

   The mic again. What was she supposed to respond to? "Um - I - I'm sorry -"

   "Sorry isn't enough anymore!"

   Roar.

   "We want it to stop!"

   Roar.

   "I'll do what I can - what I can do," she managed, still tightly held against the mare.

   "Swear it!" she spat, and they made eye contact.

   This mare wasn't powerful in that moment. There was anger, passionate anger, but also a sadness that Twilight couldn't fit into the machine that was her mind. This place has gone to hell in a handbasket, it said, and Twilight's mouth hung open uselessly for that moment.

   "I swear."

   The mare grinned, wide, toothy, and a little bit crazy. "Good. Let's throw down!"

   The amplifiers the band was using blasted what had been playing before, and Twilight was finally released. She looked to the left where the bandstand was, and a crowd of the costumed ones stood around it, wires going from the speaker to the amps. "Don't run off just yet," the speaker said, loudly but not into the microphone. "Stay awhile, have some fun. Law can't bring us down, so we're solid up here."

   Twilight turned around, the options popping into her head again like a menu. Run, stand, follow directions. Running was - smart, in fact. Stand? Less so, but still hard for the newspapers to twist if they happened to show up. But follow directions?

   Maybe she should run. It didn't make much sense not to. Off over the crowd, to the police down the road. But then again, it was true that they weren't really breaking a law. They were just partying. In fact, she glanced over to see two guards stashing their armors under a table and heading up to the crowd, laughing with one another.

   She turned to the crowd, and looked back at the speaker. She winked.

   Twilight felt a weird bubble rising in her, like her adrenaline got twisted up and confused and was being mutated into dopamine. Pride of the common sector? Fine. If you can't lead 'em...

   She jumped off the stage into the crowd and a circle formed around hr immediately, pushing her up to jump to the beat. It was insane, it was novel, it was midnight.

   And it was going on the news, for absolute sure.

~~

   It hadn't even been that long, maybe half an hour, and Twilight was beginning to feel a headache coming on. It wasn't strong, though, until she heard a rough crash on the other side of the crowd. She leapt into the air, staying on top of the action as well as she could (it was her job, after all). A guard had become entangled with another pony, and as she watched, more and more moved into the action, until seven or eight were shoving and kicking and what looked like biting.

   She heard a scoff in the microphone and the music cut, leaving nothing but the loud shouts of violence. "Forerunners, let's bounce before we get broken up," she shouted, and most of the costumed ones climbed over the stage and galloped out with her.

   The adrenaline-dopamine morphed back into adrenaline, and anxious adrenaline at that. What if the Royal Guard came? Or the Princesses? And the news followed them? And she was arrested for civil unrest? She just started princess-ing. It would destroy her.

   So she did the only sensible thing and took off following the instigators.

   They galloped (and flew) into the streets, whooping and laughing and turning quick corners as they hit the small roads. Twilight followed, which wasn't hard to do considering there were a couple dozen of them.

   From the front, the speaker's voice: "Split - alpha right, beta left, delta straight!" Almost to beat, the group divided into three, and Twilight was caught momentarily on what to do. Her wings were tired, the chill was beginning to bite, and she could honestly just go home. But that odd intrigue still lingered. She needed to know what this group was. Why did they do that? Was that all they did? She chalked her curiosity up to investigating and landed, galloping after the group headed by the speaker.

   She followed them, to their extreme amusement, down a couple new paths until they crossed over into Lower Canterlot, a place she'd only been once or twice. Then they slowed, and she unwittingly merged with the group.

   They were quiet for a while, and Twilight realized later they probably planned it. It wasn't as bad of a place as she'd thought, but there was still rotten garbage where it shouldn't have been, dripping pipes coming off odd angles from the brown brick buildings nearby, and closed-up apartments with broken glass windows and graffiti dotting the facade. She could see her breath.

   "Hey, Princess, what's your deal?" one finally said, breaking the relative silence.

   "Yeah, what kind of crazy are you?"

   And suddenly, terrified again. Maybe she was walking into (or with) an awful situation. "I'm just - just -" she stammered, cursing herself for her inability to verbalize anything tonight.

   "Lay off, you dicks," she heard from the front of the group. "She's curious."

   "That's what I was trying to say, actually," she responded quietly.

   "Yeah, well, that's still some kind of crazy. I thought you woulda been scared enough to run home, at least," the second one said. He was probably the skinniest, and had on thick green rubber boots. All part of the aesthetic, maybe. "What we have to friggin' deal with."

   "We should probably ditch her. She's the government, she'll screw us over one way or another," one said, his face painted bright red to contrast with his dark blue natural coat. They turned into an alleyway, and he brushed probably too close to her.

   "I dunno. She partied with us," the speaker said, throwing a look behind her. Twilight tried not to look worried. "We're here anyways. Welcome to the hive, or nest, or whatever," she said, and the group walked away one by one into the wide mouth of a lower room, tented with a tarp and spray-painted with neon symbols she didn't recognize.

   They were alone quickly. "... Are you sure you wanted me to see this? They're kind of right. I do have to tell, if they ask."

   "They won't ask," she said with disdain. "They don't care about the unnamed rebel groups who never done anything wrong." Her voice had the beginnings of a smoker's edge, but it fit her, really well. Her entire image fit together to the piece, from her shock of red mane to her contrasting cyan coat to her piercing nearly-white eyes. Which now glanced up at her, sending a chill down her spine. "Come on in, it's warm."

   Three options. Run. Stand. Follow directions. Of course, there really was only one option.

   The inside of the den was monstrously neon, color after color splattered liberally in spray-paint and actual paint and what seemed to be wood stain. Tarps, like the one outside, sanctioned off some areas and covered what looked like a low bar on one end of the room. The speaker must have caught her staring. "It's a legal business, if you wanna be technical."

   "Oh, I don't -"

   "Mind? Care? Whatever. Can't be too careful with your type, right?" She sighed. "Grab something to drink, sit back on the couch with Blank and Curtis until you're fed up with the lifestyle. I imagine it would get old quick."

   Twilight looked back at the bar, and at her, who was beginning to walk away. "Actually," she began, formulating her sentence. "I did have fun. And... I'm interested."

   "Good." She thought she saw a little smile play on the corners of her mouth. "Like I said, take off your coat and stay a while."

   "I have a couple questions, though."

   She looked over at the couch, and pursed her lips. "Can I field 'em?"

   "I'd rather you not. You kind of seem like the ringleader."

   "Nopony really leads nothing here," she replied, rubbing her mane. "We relax and plan for our next big peace-protest movement thing."

   "I just want to know about that kind of thing. Indulge me."

   She grinned, that toothy, crazy grin again. "Fine. Step into my office when you have the chance."

~~

   Her office was basically a bedroom. It didn't look as rundown or as neon as the rest of the place, either. Twilight, still rather against the idea of a drink, walked in after exploring a bit more, expecting smoke or needles or a dead body or something Hollywood, but there was nothing at all. Surprising, but actually quite fleshing. They really were peaceful-protesters. They just dressed up for the role.

   It struck her as she passed a grate window that there was probably a bit of a commotion up north as they realized they didn't know where she was. With a quick burst of magic, she'd scribbled out a letter explaining things as well as she could and sent it direct-line to the Princess. Everything is okay, I'm talking a couple of ponies. I'll probably be back soon, and I'll report when I leave. After that and a moment of thought, she trotted off for said bedroom, pointedly ignoring the amused and annoyed glares from the nearby patrons.

   She was sitting on the couch across the room, near a table with a couple lanterns on it. "Tried to get it bright, in case you didn't bail when you saw how wrecked the place was."

   "I'm serious when I say it's interesting," Twilight said, her voice hushing naturally as the quiet settled in - no noise but static, laughter, and low music blended together in the background. "Do you, uh, have anywhere else to sit?"

   "Nope. Except the bed, but unless you really want to get freaky right away," she joked, and laughed, her laugh brash but midrange and not particularly ugly. "I'll scoot over for you."

   She sat down awkwardly, realizing that a drink maybe would have made this more natural-feeling. "I'll make this quick, and get out of your hair."

   "I don't care, I can't sleep one way or another." She smiled, no teeth or craziness, but her jaw held taught. "Shoot."

   "... How do you keep everypony together, I think my major question is."

   She stretched her forelegs before her, popping the joints. "Wow, that's a tough one right off the bat. I guess because we don't have other stuff to do, and we all sorta get how groups work." She moved her hooves as she talked. "Plus, we all got the same views and stuff, so we're a band of brothers, kinda."

   "I guess that makes sense. I feel like I should be writing this down," she added, giving a nervous laugh.

   "Let me ask you a question. Why are you in politics?"

   Twilight frowned. "I don't know, why do you ask?"

   She rolled her eyes. "Because you ain't the kind of pony for politics. Politicians eat crowds up, and I've never seen one as nervous as you."

   "Well, I'm a Princess. We get chosen pretty early, really," she said, her voice dropping again, unsure whether that was a proper answer. "Can I respond with another question?"

   She didn't reply, just stared.

   "Did... you know the pony who was killed?"

   She shook her head shallowly, her gaze still firm. "In a way, we all know each other. Down here's made for the castoff unicorns, and anypony who ain't them has a problem." She tapped at her blank forehead. "So we all know each other, in a way."

   Twilight nodded, softly. "I wasn't ignorant to it, but I wasn't aware it was quite so bad."

   "You sure you don't want a drink?"

   "No, I'm fine, thanks."

   "'Cause I have one," she continued, pulling a bottle off the carpet to the side of the couch. "Thought juices."

   Twilight inhaled deeply. "I'd rather keep my head, right now. I have to get home soon, one way or another."

   "Right." She uncorked it. "Wouldn't want to waste it on you, anyways."

   She smiled. It was a charm she'd never seen before - she was just laden with realism and had a cynical twist, and yet she was personal. Interest gave way to some form of deep admiration.

   "Hey, sorry I had to call you out like that," she was saying, the bottle resting on her lips. "Sensationalism. Once word gets out, my job is done. And, hey, if you're serious about being on our side..."

   "How can I be, if you're anti-government?"

   "Hm? Oh, we're not. We're anti-this-government. Nopony hears about what goes down in the ghetto, and that ain't okay by us." The sticky-sweet smell of sugar spirit slowly rolled over the room. "But you're new. Maybe you'll, you know, help us out."

   Twilight looked back at her wings, moving them restlessly. "I will," she said quietly.

   There was a grunt and a shout from outside the door, and the fizzle of something electric. Within seconds, the staticky sounds of an electric guitar on a bad amp bled through the spray-painted walls.

   "That's Raincloud. Whenever she's angry, she plays. She ain't bad."

   "No," Twilight agreed, staring at the closed, also spray-painted door, listening to the almost tuneless plucked notes. "She isn't."

   "So, tell me about yourself."

   She turned back. "Hm - me?"

   "Sure. Nothing much else to do at the moment, unless you want to play pool or something. Or sleep."

   "I'm still up. Adrenaline and stuff, I suppose," she replied, looking up and around the room. There was a neon sign in the corner, just an off-brand of beer, glowing pallid blue against the dark wall. "Do you really want to know?"

   "Whatever, I guess."

   "I mean, I think I may be more interested in you," she began, crossing her legs and sitting back.

   She laughed - that clear, loud laugh. "There's no story for me," she replied, showing her grin.

   "I don't know, just start with your name."

   "Don't have one of those either."

   "What do ponies call you?"

   "They don't. They talk to my face or not at all."

   Twilight cocked her head, half a smile on her face. It wasn't hard to tell she wasn't being straight honest, but it certainly lent some mystery to her. She decided not to question it.

   "Back to you. I want some juicy gossip. You seein' anypony yet?"

   Twilight crossed her forelegs. "How do you know I wasn't already?"

   She laughed, again, genuine mirth this time. "Are you kidding? You're a debutante. The papers are covered in you, and if I know anything, it's the papers. No partner, but pictures and pictures of your Ponyville days - with some sugar, apparently," she added, chuckling at Twilight's reaction.

   "Lemon Swirl was not 'some sugar'! She was -"

   "Calm your tits. Jeez. It was a joke."

   Twilight frowned. It didn't feel like a joke.

   She paused, and leaned back, taking a final drink from the bottle and setting it down. "You looked cute together."

   "Thanks, I guess."

   She looked over, her eyes less dramatic, more soft and deep. "You're not half bad, you know. Especially for a princess."

   Twilight giggled, and stopped herself. That was odd. "You know what," she began. "I thought for sure you were going to be a lot harder to talk to."

   "Hey, I can drink to that," she said, and followed through. "Wow, this isn't as strong as I remembered it." She turned her head, and looked her unabashedly in the eyes again. "I'm probably getting drunk, though. How old are you? Twenty-five, twenty-six?"

   "Twenty-two," she replied after a moment of consideration. It couldn't hurt, she probably knew already.

   "Ha. That's really, really young," she said, turning her head back to the bottle, just watching it.

   "Really? What about you?"

   "Not much older," she replied with a laugh. "You even look good for twenty-two, though."

   A bubble traveled from her gut to her throat. "Uh, thanks?"

   Her head lolled back. "Hey, with Lemon Swirl."

   "Yeah?"

   "Did you top or bottom?"

   The bubble disappeared. "That's kind of personal."

   She snorted, that grin creeping onto her face again. "So?"

   "So I'd rather not answer it."

   "Hey, come on. I'm just trying to picture it in my head -"

   "That's weird, seriously. Don't do that."

   She laughed. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

   At this, Twilight had to return to logical consideration. She certainly didn't feel very uncomfortable. Maybe a bit confused, but should she answer truthfully? She decided on "I don't know," and sat back into the couch, pulling her legs back under her and crossing her forelegs again.

   "I hope not. I'm comfortable."

   A pause, and Twilight glanced over at her, running her eyes along her side. A thick black jacket covered most of her midsection, and her tail, though not at draft level, was cut short. She could see the bones in her back legs well. The aesthetic, maybe? Or maybe she just had some problems. Best not to mention it. Or let her see her looking.

   At this thought, she glanced back up - and she was indeed staring back. Twilight wanted to look away, but for some reason didn't, and watched her eyes dart down, and back up, slowly. "... What's up?"

   "Nothing. Sorry."

   "Is it that I'm a bit skinny?" She chuckled, out of place in what felt like an awkward exchange. "It's just my metabolism. I get that kind of concerned question thing a bunch." Twilight felt the couch shift as she leaned forwards a bit. "Promise I'm still pretty soft, though."

   Twilight felt herself flush, finally, but in shock and anger. All the comments started adding up, and she couldn't believe how slow her brain had been moving. Of course that's what was happening. "Are - are you coming on to me?"

   She leaned back, her movements quick but not evasive. "Not unless you want me to." Another grin. "To get down to brass tacks, I'll be honest. I bet deep down, in your soul or heart or whatever you want to call it, you just want fun. Like me. Right?"

   She stood, a sort of animalistic instinct. Of course that's what was happening, and it became painfully clear. "N- not like that! I couldn't just go ahead and sleep with anypony!" She scowled, her blush fading. It wasn't awkward, it was - rude, really.

   She cocked her head, the grin fading to a cheeky smile. "Why not?"

   Her thoughts and arguments hit the front of her brain one by one, and one by one, she felt herself... disarming them. Her mouth moved wordlessly. Was there a reason?

   She stood, her form suddenly delicate - fragile - graceful? Fluorescent and austere in the lantern light, the contrast in her coat and mane shouted unorthodoxy. It was surreal, suddenly, in the underground bar in the middle of Lower Canterlot. Twilight felt her breath grow short.

   "I don't want to scare you," she said, softly, the edge in her voice falling to the background. "In fact, I'd say I really like you."

   She found her words, silly though they were. "M-maybe I should go -" she began, half-believing it. No way was this happening. She wasn't weak enough to be enticed to something so loose and loveless by this mare from what felt like the other side of the world.

   "It's cold outside," she replied, still quiet, now closer. Twilight smelled the tinge of alcohol on her breath, and wanted to turn away and just remove herself, but those snowy blue eyes were... magnetic. "Why don't you crash here tonight?"

   She was immobile as she felt a warmness, a softness just below her cheek on her jaw and a hard, firm hoof on her neck on the other side. And she wasn't immobile for any good reason. Not fear, not confusion, not shock, not anything intelligent. She felt a rush like a rolling bolt of thunder, and scowled at herself as she smiled. Don't enjoy it.

   But she couldn't lie. Not to herself, not consciously. She inhaled, a shuddering inhale, before she felt herself pushed backwards, and down, onto the couch. The pressure on her jaw stopped, and she lifted her head, an enigmatic smirk on her face. "See? Nothing to worry about, right?"

   Twilight shook her head, trying to clear it from all of her silly little hazy emotions. "I - shouldn't, really."

   Her smirk fell away, but the same amusement was still on her face in one way or another. "Do you want me to stop?"

   Twilight's brow knitted as she thought, struggling against the two convictions in her mind, stigma against stigma. There weren't even arguments anymore, just a decision to make. "... I don't know," she answered truthfully.

   The amusement turned to a kind of watery disappointment. "I can't start until I get an okay. I try on purpose not to do illegal things, especially not to a princess."

   She found herself pulled to eye contact again, and a phrase hit the back of her brain like a psychic bullet.

Screw it.

   A grin melted onto her face, and she grinned in reply, leaning down and kissing her neck again. It was tender, soft. A half-thoughtless action guided Twilight's hooves up to her back, holding tightly, bringing her closer. When she thought of what she liked, it wasn't spine and ribs, or neon and spikes, or rough and angry. But right now, her tastes didn't seem to count - she wanted what she wanted, and it was right in front of her. What an odd thought to have.

   "Are you clean?" she heard, above the heartbeat in her ears.

   "Wh- uh, you mean, like..."

   She lifted her head. "Uh, you mean like, yeah. Health is pretty important, believe it or not."

   Twilight nodded quickly. "Definitely."

   Something appeared to dawn on her. "I'm not... I'm not your first, am I?"

   Twilight opened her mouth to speak.

   "Don't lie, Princess."

   She closed her mouth, and clenched her teeth. Fine, maybe she wasn't the most charming or socially clever individuals. Maybe she'd never gone beyond that kiss because she royally messed it up within minutes and lost a good friend in the process. "It doesn't matter."

   She chuckled, and lowered her head again - but further up. Twilight felt herself seize, her blood stopping cold in her veins. It was sudden. She tasted the raw liquor against her tongue, and released what felt like a held breath. "... In that case, I'll be gentle," came the whisper.

~~

   It'd been probably about forty minutes. Or thirty. Twenty. An hour. Something. She'd never found herself in that position before, where she was surrounded on all sides by soft, warm pillows and bathed in semi-darkness and the smell of liquor and underneath a body her size so light it felt hollow - and it was amazing.

   She was asleep, apparently. Maybe it was just another facade, not just possible but probable. But it didn't really matter. They were entangled in a chaotic embrace, the room had fallen into silence, and Twilight felt nothing but that familiar, elegant bliss trickling through her like a stream through a living valley. Her light breath fell clockwork against Twilight's neck, in, out, in, out. It was hypnotizing, a white noise of touch. And in moments, she was asleep as well.

   She wasn't lying when she promised she was soft. Twilight wrapped her forelegs around her as she drifted off.

   The morning arrived after a dream, like it always did, and the sunlight streaming in through the grate windows slotted along the wall drew her from that dream, with an expectation - the softness and hollowness of the body she felt the night before. But that expectation, of course, was broken.

   She sat up drowsily, and looked around with a yawn. It didn't surprise her that she was gone. It occurred to her a while into the night that nothing would come from it, but it still felt - empty - that she wasn't there with another bitter kiss and scratchy 'good morning'.

   She stood, and walked to the door, stretching and popping her wings, and rubbing at her eyes. When she opened them, she caught a small piece of off-white stationary sticking out of the doorframe.

   There wasn't any doubt about what it could be as she levitated it it over to her and unfolded it. The writing gave her a bit of a shock - neat, clean cursive, lined with an intelligent eye.

Wasn't it fun?

Sorry I had to go, I'm working a project a while from here. I have a feeling we'll see each other again.

   No signature, no 'with love'. She turned it over, rather hoping, rather expecting. And yet, as she read it again, she smiled, and tucked it under her wing. Maybe they would see each other later. There was a large part of her that felt an understanding, an idealistic sense of what the night before really was. And she appreciated it.

   And there was a part of her, a small part of her heart, that fell away, wanting and waiting.

   She walked out of the bar and onto the grimy city street, less quaint and intriguing in the day. Before she took off for the train station, she took the letter out of her wing and looked it over just one more time. Another little smile and she sent it home in a flash of magic, and started her way back. In a while, that small blankness in her heart was forgotten and nothing but good memories was left.

~~

Oh, what a night

You know, I didn't even know her name

But I was never gonna be the same

What a lady, what a night