Undercover Dates

     "What did you think you were doing out there?!" Spitfire angrily whispered.

     "I was doing the 'do it' symbol. How did he not get that?"

     "I know what it means." Haze interrupted from the other room. "I just haven't seen it since I was 12. And what is this," he spread his wings and slapped them together a few times, "supposed to mean?" He looked fairly amused by Soarin's startled expression.

     Spitfire yanked Soarin behind a table. He yelped and nearly banged his head on the wall. He glared at the offending wall, then turned his attention to the fiery mare.

     "Hey! What gives!"

     "You know why I did that."

     "Whatever, and what do you see in this guy?"

     "I think he is a really cool dude." Spitfire said truthfully.

     "You know next to nothing about him." He justified.

    "I know he went to Saddle Arabia, is a nutritionist, and has some bongos."

     "Bongos, really?"

     "Nevermind the bongos! He's different. Not every single guy I find is going to be some kind of serial killer. Some ponies are just.... normal." Spitfire took a step forward and looked through the square opening in the wall. Haze was looking at some pictures hung about the room. One in particular, was a picture of Spitfire after a press conference. Her mane was all sticking to the right side, and clearly was not amused by whoever was taking the photo.

     She whipped around and faced Soarin again. "I thought I told you not to put that up!"

     "Come on, that is gold right there!"

     "I'm taking it down. Later, though. Soarin, stop trying to screw this up. He might just be the one for me."

     "Well, I don't think he is the one for us. " He replied, putting extra emphasis on us.

     "Really?" In response to her own question, she shoved Soarin out the lobby door and onto the sidewalk. She turned around, sprinted back inside, and locked the door.

     "Spitz, don't be the 'B' from apartment twenty-three! Your better than that! We're all better than that! At least, I think we are." Soarin turned around. "What am I even talking about?"

     Ice Storm's house was pretty peaceful. All the door-to-door salesponies had been sent away, and the rotten little colts from down the street weren't digging for oil on his lawn. Three ponies were inside that house, all eating dinner.

     Glide looked over to her son. She roughly motioned to his father, who was reading the newspaper. Soarin looked confused. He mouthed the words, "What are you doing?" to his mother. She responded by facehooving and slowly pointed from him to Storm, while mouthing "talk" to him.

     "Is there anything I can do for ya, pop?"

     Ice Storm slowly lowered his newspaper and studied him.

     "You wanna help? Go clean out the garage."

     "How about you let me borrow the truck instead?"

     "Where are you going? What time will you be back?" He asked, turning back to his newspaper.

     "A date with Dash."

     "Oh that's so sweet. Ice, let him borrow the truck." Glide turned to Ice Storm, who had glued his eyes to the paper once more.

     Glide returned back to Soarin. "Where are you taking her?"

     "Well... it's not exactly my date. I have to go to a date that Dash is having with some other dude."

    Glide was looking over into the corner, face scrunched in confusion.

     "It's a long story. You know, complicated and stuff. No under-the-table touchy stuff, and absolutely none of," he made the wing gestures from earlier today. "this."

     "Is it opening a can?"

     "Mom, everypony knows what that is." Soarin chuckled. He reached across the oak table for the keys, but his hoof was grabbed by Ice Storm's.

     "I want it back by midnight."

     "What am I, Cinderella?"

     "You want to make it eleven-thirty?" He was dead serious.

     "No." Soarin replied after a sigh.

     He grabbed the keys and trotted over to the white door across the kitchen. Something by the staircase caught his attention. There were four fully packed bags.

     "Hey mom, what time are you heading out tomorrow?"

     "Actually, those bags are going upstairs. Your mother is going to stick around for a little while." Ice looked over to Glide. She looked back.

     "Just for awhile to make sure your ok." She said with a sincere smile.

     "I told her that I will be fine."

     Then, something clicked in Soarin's brain. "Woah, woah, wait a second, your moving in?" Soarin asked out of disbelief.

     Glide nodded with a wide smile. She put her hoof over Ice's, who had put his down near the beginning of the conversation.

     "Oh my god. I'm living with my parents."