The Great and Showerful Trixie
Trixie awoke from a lovely dream that somehow had her trotting from the bakery with a good dozen donuts threaded over her tail. She could curl it around and nibble on them, one by one, though she needed to save a few for later. After the sheen of sleep had faded from her mind, she picked her head up off the pillow and swiped at the trickle of drool on her cheek.
Home again, after another three-month tour of Equestria, and thank goodness for the chance to relax. Trixie had showcased her wonderful talent to anypony sharp enough to realize how rare and unusual it was, and the crowds had grown larger lately. Ever since she’d changed—for the better, hopefully—the audiences seemed to enjoy the show more. Funny, she hadn’t tinkered with the lineup of tricks. Maybe they liked… her better?
She allowed herself the luxury of a little smile. First on the inside, and then outwardly. Not that she’d ever get to know any particular audience member well enough to become friends, but she had made a couple. At least she thought so. She stood on good terms with Twilight Sparkle, and those friends of hers had seemed less… hostile, too. A step in the right direction.
But through it all, she’d had one friend, as far back as she could remember. One friend who stuck by her no matter what, who listened when she needed to cry, who laughed with her when she’d mock some pathetic contrarian in the crowd… Too often, those two went together. On stage, she became… different. It drew an assembly, but afterward, she reaped the benefits, usually blushing at how she’d acted and whimpering, while her friend held her.
On the road, her friend would accompany her, watch, stay close. But they could never really share any private time until their travels brought them back home again. She glanced out the window at her caravan parked outside. She’d gotten in late last night and wanted only to flop into bed, so road dust still marred her coat. She’d normally have to stop at a public restroom and run a washcloth over herself at the sink—the wagon had no bathing facilities. But when she returned to her apartment…
An even bigger smile graced her lips. Her favorite part. She twisted the knob of her shower and held a foreleg in the stream. Frosty at first, but cold didn’t exactly bother a hoof. Only when it began to warm up did she let it run further up her leg as well, and the brown residue of the miles swirled off her and down the drain. Her troubles always seemed to go with it.
With a nod, she stepped into the shower and shut the door behind her. Not all the way, just pulled it against the frame. The shower stall was easily big enough to stand on all fours, but of course she’d need her forelegs to wash herself anyway. And for some reason, she always preferred to stand on her hind legs.
So she shut her eyes, turned her chin up, and doused her face in the warm spray. Rich green foliage all around her, birdcalls in the trees, and the sweet scent of orchids tickling her nose. One time, years back, her travels had taken her far south, and she’d gone on a little sojourn, trekking through the rainforest. She’d done exactly this at the time: tilted her face skyward and let the clouds’ tears wash her own away. So beautiful, so pristine, so… alone, far from any other living pony.
She’d met her friend not long after. Right about the time she’d decided she actually needed a friend, to be honest. And every time she took her shower, she went right back to that moment when everything had changed. For the first time, anyway.
The scent of orchids soon faded into that of her bathroom’s air freshener, and the birdcalls blended into the chatter of ponies in the cobblestoned marketplace outside. She left her eyes closed, though. She knew what would happen. Soon. Just wait…
The shower door closed the rest of the way, and Trixie felt a hoof trace its way over her cheek. Her shoulders sagged, and she let out a long breath into the spray. A second hoof joined in and pulled her sodden forelock from her face, slicking it back with the rest of her mane and giving it a good rinse. They tugged at her hair and ran along it to work in the water and ease out the accumulated grime, nice and slow, like coaxing it out of hiding. Odd that she wouldn’t want to rid herself of that dirt as quickly as possible, but when the process was so enjoyable…
Another scent now, like coconuts. Her shampoo. Those gentle hooves kneaded it into a lather and swirled it against her scalp, then pulled it along her mane, from roots to ends. Simple things took on such a relaxing aspect when somepony else did them for her. She could concentrate on the feeling and not worry about the doing.
Likewise with another rinse, the water ran down her back in cascades, and her friend’s hooves corralled the suds on their way. Next, the soap, which Trixie handled herself. As much as she trusted the other mare, she had to make sure she got all that soap residue out, or it would leave her coat looking dull. Though she did get a little assistance with scouring the streaks of mud off her cutie marks.
All done now. But she’d stay a little bit longer. Once in a while, it didn’t hurt to indulge. Or once a day, when she was home and had the luxury of her own shower. She still had a dry mouth from last night’s journey, so she opened it and let some of the spray run down her throat.
And then the pair of hooves clasped around her chest, pulling her into an embrace. That wonderful warmth against her. Her friend. Something more now, after her last encounter with Twilight, when she’d had to come face to face with some uncomfortable truths. As she made progress through them, this friendship had grown into a deeper respect, and then…
The grip tightened, and one of the hooves slid down Trixie’s chest, past her ribs, onto her belly. Her friend could read her moods so well. Most of the time. The hoof might keep descending in response to a quickened breath. For some reason, she usually ended up in tears on those days, afterward. Why? She didn’t know, but she didn’t really want to think about it, either.
Trixie swallowed. The mare valued her companionship, valued her. On the days when… when she… Those days, her friend got something she could get from any mare. Not that it didn’t mean anything to her when that happened.
Or, like today, the hoof might stop right there on her stomach, when she let out a contented sigh. Just holding her, letting her know—
She held Trixie because she was Trixie. She chose Trixie over anypony else. And for that reason, Trixie preferred mornings like this one. Most mornings went like this one.
She lingered in the warmth a minute longer and savored the hoof circling lightly over her belly. Her friend. Her only friend. But maybe recent events would change that for the better.
“I love you, Trixie,” echoed a whisper throughout the washroom. Then Trixie opened her eyes and turned the water off. The mirror didn’t answer.
