Love-locked and Breathless

The apartment door is pushed shut behind you. Your rescued friend heads straight for the bathroom to dry off, letting you pick up some towels for yourself. Wiping the dampness from your face and body, you toss Trixie’s wizard-themed hat and cloak onto the nearby sofa - you hadn’t forgotten to scoop them up from the stage floor - before sitting down yourself and trying to organise your thoughts.

Why did she use the real padlocks when she had some perfectly fake ones that wouldn‘t cause the slightest hint of trouble? How did she undo that first padlock by herself? Last time you checked, she couldn’t even come close. Where the heck did Whipchat run off to? He was in charge of Trixie’s life, yet he just abandoned her, and left you to save her yourself. Some health and safety specialist he is.

Knock-knock-knock.

Speak of the devil. You wonder who that could be.

“Oh, there you are, thank goodness for that,” Whipchat sighs as you open the door, “Is our main girl… is she, you know… not dead?”

“She’s safe, no thanks to you.” there was no effort made to disguise your growl. Whipchat tries to nudge through the doorway into the apartment. You block him off, shoving him back outside. “Not so fast. Where did you disappear off to when we needed you? How could you just run off while somepony was about to die on stage?”

“Ah, oh, well, you see, uh, it only looked like I was running off,” he stutters, “But there was something that needed urgent attention, you see, regarding the fate of the show, neigh, the fate of the whole theatre!”

“The ‘fate of the show’, Whipchat, was drowning in that water tank!”

“Nonono, you misunderstand; I meant the fate of the show financially.”

“Wh… what!? Are you kidding me!?”

Whipchat hides a guilty cough, then continues, “Don’t you see? If something as tragic as our main star… undergoing an unfortunate accident happens, we need compensation. That’s why I insisted on you and her performing with those silver fake padlocks from now on. I wouldn’t be liable for insurance if you used the real ones.”

You give yourself a face-hoof out of Whipchat’s sheer stupidity. Or was it just dumb greed dictating his moronic actions?

“You mean to tell me,” you recount slowly, “that the only reason you abandoned us, leaving Trixie to drown, was to secure your own wallet? And it’s a safe bet you were lying on the insurance papers too; Trixie used the real padlocks, for who knows what reason, but I bet you wrote that she was drowning with the fakes, or else they wouldn’t pay out.”

“Geez, you make it sound so negative! You complain more than my bratty cousin Sharpquill!” the landlord retorts, “And besides, who’s going to care that I put a little white lie on a piece of paper? Certainly not a greasy criminal like you, Scumbag-”

“Scoundrel.”

“Whatever. The fact of the matter is, I was unable to save a life, so I might as well try save my money so it isn’t a total loss if the unthinkable happens.”

“So screw me and Trixie, as long as you’ve got bits in your pocket, everything’s just fine?” you ask.

“Everything will be just fine for me, sure. Heck, maybe this place would be more popular if a famous somepony dies here. The rich love a place with a dark back-story to it, you know..? Make even more money…”

“So you can afford an ice pack for your face?” you ask coolly.

“Hm? Why in Equestria would I want-?”

THRACK!

You fling your hoof at his face, landing a perfect punch on his snout. He hurtles several feet across the corridor, before sprawling across the floor with a broken snout and two black eyes. And he’s out-cold.

Sweet Celestia, that felt good.

Without even checking to see if he’s okay, you head back into the apartment, shutting the door behind you.

*******

Trixie sits on the side of her bed, staring down at the floor in silent contemplation. She’s mostly dry, despite hints of dampness still in her mane. Her eyes flick towards the door as it creaks open, revealing the stallion who saved her life.

“How are you feeling?” you ask. In your absent-mindedness, you leave the door ajar as you enter.

She redirects her attention back to the ground. “Stupid. And about as embarrassed as I was last time my ego nearly killed me.” With a sigh, she attempts to change the subject, “What happened? I heard a fuss outside.”

“It’s, uh, nothing. Nothing worth worrying about right now.”

Trixie pats the bed she’s sitting on, beckoning you to sit down next to her. You’re happy to accept that offer.

“On the bright side, at least you survived.” You try whatever you can to cheer your friend up, placing a foreleg over her shoulders, “But something’s been bugging me. Why were you using the real locks back there? I was so worried, you know..?”

Trixie gives you an honest look, “Because I had the feeling you’d be watching tonight. Like how criminals tend to go back to the scene of a crime. I wanted to show off to you how good I was getting at it, just to spite you. Just to show that anything you could do, I could do better. I could unlock them all in the backstage rehearsal, really!” and, after a heartbeat, “Sorry. I know all it did was make things worse.”

“No, I’m sorry for starting that whole argument in the first place.”

She doesn’t reply. She just gently nuzzles you, her face brushing against yours in affection. Your foreleg stops resting on her shoulder, sliding down into a hug.

It’s because of you, your actions, that Trixie’s alive to nuzzle you right now. You think back to your past life in Canterlot, about the unfortunate accident with the young mare and the dragon in that cave. Take a life. Save a life. In your mind, you finally consider your debt to the world repaid. Or at least it’s a start.

You don’t know how long you sit there with Trixie, sharing the warmth of each other’s company on her bed. But eventually, it changes. Instead, she looks at you face-to-face, drawing closer and closer to you.

“Hey, you know when I was… struggling back there, under the water?” her voice a soft, silky whisper, “Remember when you gave me your breath when I needed it?”

“Yeah?” your voice is hardly audible.

“I want to return the favour. Here, have some of mine.”

Before you can speak a single word, her parted lips push up against yours, her hot breath caressing the insides of your mouth, causing your thoughts to melt away as the taste of her washes over you.

You respond in kind, heart pounding at a mile a minute, and soon you’re caught up in one deep kiss after another. Holding her tightly and passionately, you feel yourselves slowly changing from the sitting position to lying down on the bed. And any minute now you can feel the kisses turning into something much more.

“Wait, wait,” she gasps just as your bodies are as close as they’ve ever been. You, being her obedient… well, not-assistant, stop your flurry of kisses to listen to the most beautiful mare in the world.

“What is it?”

“The door’s open a little. We wouldn’t want anypony wandering in for what we’re about to do, would we..?” she smiles, her sneaky melodic giggle dripping with evocativeness. With an effortless flick and glimmer of her horn, the bedroom door swings itself shut, with a swift squeak of the in-built lock sliding into place.

Looks like you’ve hit the jackpot tonight.

(Spoiler; Your list of fetishes have been upgraded. They are now Great and Powerful Fetishes.) - Crowley