OC Slamjam: Fillygree

All That Glints

The door opened, sending a metallic tinkle across the tiny shop’s showroom. Fillygree didn’t look up, letting the door close and strike the silver bell again. The grinding wheel demanded her complete attention, at least until this face had been polished. Most ponies needed a few minutes to browse the display cases, anyway.

She ignored the drop of sweat making its way around the loupe pinched between her cheek and eyebrow. It was more difficult to ignore the stallion standing on the other side of the counter and repeatedly clearing his throat.

Fillygree sighed and lifted the diamond from the grinding wheel, turning it around in her hooves so it shattered the sunlight that poured through the glass storefront. She set it carefully in a tray, then looked up at her customer.

His wings twitched and fluttered for an instant before locking back to his sides. The grin he wore was obviously fake, and the poor thing was hardly breathing. She had seen these symptoms before. Lovestruck stallions were a pretty steady source of income. Even before she stepped up to the other side of the display case, she had mentally picked out half a dozen pieces to show him. “How can I help you, sir?”

“Uh, I’m, looking for, uh—” he licked his lips, and his eyes darted back and forth behind his glasses “—looking for something beautiful.” He made eye contact, and held it just a moment too long.

Fillygree forced a smile. “I… guess you’ve come to the right place. Are we looking for a horn ring, wing bangles, or earrings?”

“What?” His eyebrows climbed up his forehead as his pupils shrank. “Oh, no no no, I’m not proposing, I’m just…”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Fillygree said, placing a pale blue hoof against her chest. “Most stallions aren’t this nervous unless they’re shopping for engagement jewelry.”

The stallion sputtered and blinked repeatedly. Fillygree took the moment to look him over in more detail. He made it to the gym maybe a little too often, and his manestyle… well, it just seemed wrong to use the word ‘style’ to refer to the way he kept the sky-blue mop on top of his head. He clearly did not have a girlfriend.

She stepped around the counter and began guiding him around the perimeter of the little showroom. “So, have you talked to this mare yet?”

“Ummmm… You could say that, yeah.”

“Look, here’s a nice brooch,” Fillygree said, tapping a blue hoof against the glass top of a display case, “if she likes to go to formal galas and such.”

He shook his head. “I don’t get the impression she likes big parties.”

Fillygree giggled and moved on down the display case. “Not a big fan of them myself. Do you know what she likes?”

He shuffled a ways farther and scanned a tray of emeralds set in silver. “She likes jewelry.”

“Well, that doesn’t exactly set her apart from every other mare on the planet.” As she leaned over another display case, a strand of blond mane fell in front of her eyes. “Look at this little necklace. Pretty, but noncommittal.”

“Very pretty,” he said, glancing from the display case to her and back down again.

By now, they had circled halfway around the little showroom, and as they browsed the cases in the front window Fillygree said, “So, do you see anything you like?”

His ears perked up at that. He nodded his head and got a weird grin on his face as he said, “Yeaaaah.”

Fillygree squinted and leaned back a little. “What?”

“You.”

“Oh, look,” she said, “it’s the door. Bye!” She pushed him outside and closed the door behind him, flipping the sign around to ‘closed.’ The trip back to the workbench was long, and at the end of it she slid onto her stool, diligently keeping her eyes on the diamond she’d left behind earlier.

Fillygree heard the door open, letting in sounds of the bustling street for a scant few seconds. She didn’t look up until she heard somepony drop a box onto the countertop. Repair jobs were the worst. She was an artist, a creative force. Repairs had to be perfect and it was impossible to tell the melting temperature of some mystery alloy. That and—

He was back. Fillygree stared at him through narrowed eyes, a tiny screwdriver dangling from her lips.

He just stood there, with that dumb smile on his face. Fillygree spat out the screwdriver and said, “Are you going to buy something?”

“Actually, I was hoping to win something.”

“I swear, if you say ‘your heart’ then I’m going to shove that box—”

He held his hooves up and said, “No, no! I just wanted, um. Look. We got off on the wrong hoof yesterday. I’m Glint.”

“I thought it went pretty well yesterday. I’m Fillygree.”

“I know. Your na—”

“Name’s on the door. Yeah. I’m starting to regret that.”

“I saw you at Starspark’s cuteceañera. Her tiara was beautiful - and a technically accurate depiction of one of my favorite constellations! Turns out, the jeweler who made it was at the party, too, and she was beautiful, but kind of hiding in the back, so I asked around…” Glint held up the box and rattled it. “I hear you like board games. I thought, you know, since you don’t have any customers at the moment, that maybe you might like to play Monopony?”

“You know I have actual work to do, right? I make all the jewelry in the store.” She poked him in the chest with a hoof. “Just because you are a bum doesn’t mean I have all day to mess around.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not unemployed, I work nights. I’m an astronomer at the royal observatory.”

“So you study stars?”

Glint’s eyes lit up and he held up a hoof. “Well, there’s a lot more in the night sky than just stars. There’s—”

“Don’t care. If you want to play a game, fine. But—” she turned around, opened a drawer and fished around for a moment, then turned back around and dropped a heavy golden trinket on the counter “—I’m the hat.”

Twenty minutes later, Fillygree was snatching the last title deeds from Glint’s outstretched wing. He looked up as he hoofed over the last few brightly-colored bits and managed to squeak out, “A-at least you had fun, right?”

“Nope,” she said, snatching up her hoof-made golden hat piece. “It’s only fun if it’s a challenge.”

“But… But I usually beat my friends,” he said as he scooped piles of houses and hotels into the box.

Fillygree held a hoof up to her mouth in mock surprise. “You have friends?”

Glint nearly dropped the board, then hugged it to his chest as he dropped onto his flank. His lip trembled as he whispered, “I have friends.”

Fillygree reached out a hoof to his shoulder and lowered her head to look him in the eyes. “Hey, relax. That was just a joke.”

He forced a tiny smile as he finished packing up the game. “I’m sorry, I just have some trouble reading mares.”

“Yeah, I noticed that when you came back.”

He blinked as he picked up the box. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I literally shoved you out the door. What did you think that meant?”

“That… You were playing hard to get?”

Fillygree closed her eyes and began rubbing her temples with her hooves. “Go. Just go.”

As soon as the sweet old couple had walked out the door, the bell jingled again. Thinking that perhaps they had forgotten something, FIllygree turned around. Instead, Glint was standing in the doorway with a flat box under his wing. Fillygree groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Come on! Why don’t we try Hearthwarming Homesteaders?”

She rolled her eyes as she trotted back to her workbench. “Because it’s a game for three or four ponies.”

Glint slapped the box on the counter. “Are you telling me that you don’t know some sort of special rules to play Homesteaders with only two players?”

Fillygree suppressed a grin as she said, “Of course I know.”

Glint pulled off the lid and began unpacking the game. Half an hour later, he was repacking the game with somewhat less enthusiasm. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to win when I had only built like three roads.”

Without looking up, Fillygree muttered around a miniature chisel-like tool, “Becauthe you’re a lother. Now go ahway.”

Glint lethargically pulled pegs out of his board as Fillygree sat on her stool, tapping on a ring with a tiny hammer. She said, “You thought I hadn’t heard of Battleclouds just because I didn’t grow up in Cloudsdale?”

He mumbled something under his breath.

“What was that?” Fillygree asked, her hoof to her ear. “I didn’t quite hear that.”

Glint grumbled, but looked Fillygree in the eyes for a moment before shifting his gaze away. “Because you’re the unbeatable game master.”

“That’s right, now scram.”

“And the ‘Z’ on the triple letter score makes one hundred-sixty-three points.”

Glint crossed his forelegs over his chest and glared at Fillygree as she took a bite of her sandwich.

She swallowed, then said, “What? Syzygy is a real word.”

“I know,” Glint said, pushing cold fries around his takeout box. “It’s the alignment of three celestial bodies. I just don’t think it’s fair that you know it.”

“Just because I’m laconic doesn’t mean I’m illiterate.”

Glint stealthily inched his hoof toward the dictionary as Fillygree picked out five more letters. He flipped through the pages, then snapped his head up. “You are not ‘laconic!’ I can’t get you to shut up!”

Fillygree stuck out her tongue, then squealed as she ducked the dictionary that flew over her head.

Fillygree flipped over a circular card. “Plum is the tall.” She looked up at Glint.

He shook his head.

“Dealer is forced to claim the tall.” She squinted at the cards in her hoof, looked back at Glint, then to her cards again. “I’ll put in twenty.”

Glint poked at the few bits left in front of him, then dropped his cards on the counter. “I fold.”

“I guess that means I win!” Her smile shone brighter than the pile of bits she raked across the counter with her forelegs.

“I just don’t understand how you’ve even heard of this game.”

“You like space. I like games.”

“I thought you liked jewelry.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Fillygree said, holding a hoof to her muzzle and pretending not to smile. “I didn’t know I was only allowed to like one thing, ever. Isn’t there something that you like, besides astronomy?”

Glint blushed and fiddled with his hooves, then looked back up. “You.”

Fillygree looked down and hoped the warmth in her own cheeks wasn’t visible. “I suppose I should have seen that coming.”

“Seriously, though. Would you go to dinner with me?”

Fillygree sighed as she stacked cards in two piles. “No. I don’t date losers.”

Glint frowned and leaned back. “I am not a loser.”

“Are you kidding? You’ve done nothing but lose, every single day that you’ve walked in here.” She poked him in the chest with each word as she said, “You. Are. A. Loser. A persistent loser, but a loser.”

He threw his hooves into the air. “Well, nopony can beat you!”

“That’s not true. Ponies beat me all the time.”

“Really? Where can you find somepony who can beat you at a board game or a card game?”

Fillygree leaned forward, waiting for Glint to lean in toward her. She shifted her eyes left and right, then whispered, “The underground board gaming rings.”

“That’s a thing?” He leaned back and squinted at Fillygree. “That’s not a thing. You’re messing with me. That’s not a thing. Is it?”

She reclined with a grin, letting her eyes wander across the ceiling.

“Come on!” Glint shouted. He sighed, resting his hooves on the counter. “Let me take you to dinner.”

“You work nights, right?”

He sat up and blinked. “Y-yeah.”

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping at dinnertime, anyway?” She grabbed a pencil and a scrap of paper, scribbling as she asked, “When do you get off work?”

“Six. In the morning.”

Fillygree held out the note with a sly grin. “Be at this address at seven A.M. sharp. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Glint nodded vigorously, sputtering as he scooped the cards into a box. Fillygree had no idea what he was trying to say, but he kept trying to say it until he was out the door.

Fillygree turned the corner from her staircase, stepping into the workshop with a coffee cup clenched in her teeth. Before she made it two steps, her attention was drawn to the front door where a stallion was pounding on the glass and shouting her name. She sat down on her stool and took the coffee cup in her hooves. Through the storefront, she could see Canterlot’s high-society morning crowd gathering around to stare at the commotion.

With a sigh, Fillygree smiled and finished her coffee, ignoring the continuing cries of, “I can see you in there!”

When her coffee was gone, and she had finished preparing the shop to open, she made her way to the front, stopping to dust the top of each display case. Finally, she flipped the sign to ‘open’ and unlocked the door. “Why, hello, good sir. How can I help you today?”

Glint pushed his way through the door. “You LIED to me! That wasn’t a date, you sent me to a barber.”

“Okay,” Fillygree said, holding up a hoof. “Number one: I never said it was a date. And two: you really, really needed a manestyle.” She fluffed his mane and leaned back. “It fits you.”

“So… what? You were leading me on this whole time, just to… Just to make a joke about my mane?”

Fillygree laughed, and grabbed Glint by the shoulders to keep him from storming out the door. She held him still until she had her giggles under control. “You really don’t read mares well, do you?”

Glint sat down and refused to make eye contact.

“Alright. You’ve been spending a lot of time with a mare, seeing her every day for a couple of weeks. The two of you even ate together a few times.” She ran a hoof through his mane. “And now she’s fixing your hair. How do those stars line up?”