How the Half-Naked Santa Saved Christmas

by Dubs Rewatcher

Rating: teen
Tags: Pinkie Pie (EqG), Comedy, Adagio Dazzle, Equestria Girls, Sunset Shimmer, Fluttershy (EqG), Romance, Rarity (EqG)
Length: 5171

A week before her first Hearth's Warming as one of the "good guys," Adagio Dazzle finds herself facing the most ridiculous task of her life: teaching Pinkie Pie to believe in Santa.

It's been a few months since the Battle of the Bands, and Adagio Dazzle is trying her best to become one of the "good guys." Sure, she won't wear any pajamas that aren't ninety percent see-through. And yeah, she can't stop threatening to kick puppies. But still, she's trying!

A week before her first Hearth's Warming, Adagio finds herself facing the most ridiculous task of her life: teaching Pinkie Pie the true meaning of the holiday season. Now, armed with nothing but her wits and a lot of alcohol, Adagio must save Hearth's Warming for the woman she loves doesn't hate as much as everyone else.

Originally written for Obselescence's Secret Santa Jingle-Off as a present for the lovely Majin Syeekoh.
Thanks to Oroboro, Not_A_Hat, Foehn, and Pascoite for prereading and editing.

Published 2016-01-06 06:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-01-06 06:50:01 UTC

How the Half-Naked Santa Saved Christmas

Adagio fingered her wine glass. “So, Pinkamena—are you a virgin?”

Sunset choked on her pizza. Rarity's and Fluttershy’s cheeks burst into flames.

Pinkie Pie giggled. “Yepperoni! Why?”

“Oh, no reason,” Adagio said, adjusting her lingerie top. She smirked as the straps slid down her arms and inched a bit closer to Pinkie, who went stiff. Trailing a finger along Pinkie’s thigh, she said, “Just thinking of ways I could make this slumber party a bit more interesting... ach!” Adagio flinched away as Sunset spritzed her with a water bottle marked ‘Friendship Spray.’

“Bad siren,” Sunset scolded, continuing until Adagio scrambled back to her spot. “If I see even one more inch of skin, you’re losing your alcohol privileges for a week.”

Adagio slumped into her beanbag and glowered. “Ugh, you worthless humans are no fun—stop spraying me!”

Rarity and Fluttershy chuckled, while Pinkie just relaxed and let a small smile cross her lips. Once five seconds had passed without Adagio swearing or trying to get someone naked, Sunset put the spray bottle down.

“Y’know,” Sunset said, grabbing her pizza again, “if you want me to ditch the Friendship Spray, you could at least try to act like a good guy.”

“But I am trying!” Adagio said, placing a hand over her heart and fluttering her eyelashes. “Two months ago, I would have waited until you were all asleep, then snuck into the basement and started a gas leak. Now look at me; I’ve been here for three hours, and I’ve only threatened to slit Fluttershy’s throat once!”

Fluttershy hid behind her hair. “I, um, would kind of prefer that you maybe not threaten me at all...”

“Good for you, Fluttershy.” Adagio sipped her wine and nodded. “Keep chasing that dream.”

As the others all rolled their eyes and returned to chattering, Adagio leaned back and surveyed Pinkie’s bedroom. It was horrendously girly; massive pink hearts covered every surface, entire tribes of stuffed animals sat perched on high shelves, and everything reeked of cake frosting. Then again, Pinkie Pie’s entire life seemed to reek of cake frosting.

It had been two months since the Battle of the Bands, and one month since the Rainbooms had found the Dazzlings sleeping in an alley downtown. Cold, wet, and hungry, the Dazzlings had been more than ready to prove their worth and demonstrate they were ready to be redeemed.

Since then, though, things had fallen apart a bit. The sirens were “abrasive and rude,” they had been arrested for petty theft on more than one occasion—and then, of course, there had been the Sleepover Incident, where Sonata and Adagio held down Applejack and Rainbow so Aria could strangle them both to death.

But that was three weeks ago, and since then, a new rule had been established: one siren per sleepover. Tonight was Adagio’s turn, and aside from her refusal to wear any pajamas that weren’t ninety percent see-through, things were going swimmingly. Applejack and Rainbow had both decided not to attend, however; they didn’t specify why.

Adagio sighed and swirled her wine in its glass. After the Incident, Sunset had made the three sirens pledge that by the time Hearth’s Warming rolled around, they would be completely rehabilitated. Well, Hearth’s Warming was now only a week away, but rehabilitation still seemed a long time coming.

Adagio really was trying her best to be good, but it was hard! She couldn’t make threats, or set buildings on fire—nothing. How could anyone live like that? How could she? What was Adagio’s motivation?

She looked up, only to find Pinkie Pie staring at her with those shining blue eyes.

The air left Adagio’s lungs for a moment, but soon enough she shot back a grin. “What?” she asked. “Thinking about taking me up on my offer?”

“Not really,” Pinkie said, shaking her head. “Just thinking about how super-happy I am to have you here. Making new friends is the best thing in the whole universe, right?”

Adagio shrugged. “I suppose. Not as fun as kicking puppies, though.” Fluttershy gasped again, and Adagio muttered, “Oh, calm yourself, Wallflower. I’m kidding. Probably.”

“I should hope so,” Rarity said, raising a brow. “We have orders from Princess Twilight to reform you, but I’m not sure how she would feel about animal abusers. You know, considering her race and all.”

Adagio simpered. “Is that a threat, darling?”

Rarity turned up her nose and supped at her tea. “A warning.”

“Come on, girls, there’s no arguing at sleepovers!” Pinkie said.

“Absolutely.” Adagio slithered back over to Pinkie and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She sighed, pressing her chest against Pinkie’s side. “At least one of you knows how to appreciate the love of a beautiful woman.”

For the first time since the sleepover started, Pinkie’s smile disappeared. “Uhm,” she muttered, squirming in her seat and running her eyes down Adagio’s exposed skin. Cheeks red, she slipped out from Adagio’s grasp and hurried to the doorway. “Sorry, bathroom!”

Adagio watched her go, lips bending into a frown.

Across the room, Sunset snickered. “Wow,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone make Pinkie uncomfortable.”

“She’s not uncomfortable,” Adagio said, narrowing her eyes. “She just had to use the bathroom. You know, for a supposed ‘friendship expert,’ you’re quite bad at listening.”

“Really, Sunset, let them be.” Rarity tittered from behind her tea cup. “It’s not often that we get to see true love blossom before our eyes.”

Adagio sneered. “Oh, please. Do you really think that I, Adagio, Mistress of the Melody, Queen of the Sirens, would ever fall in love with a mere human? Especially one as obnoxious as Pinkamena?”

Rarity, Fluttershy, and Sunset all nodded. “It’s quite cute,” Rarity added.

Adagio glared for a second more before looking away. “I’m just playing with her. Teasing her, if you will. After all, it certainly gets a rise out of you lot. You humans are such prudes; someone needs to teach you to lighten up, and it may as well be me.”

“If you insist,” Rarity sang. “Personally, methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

“Hmph. You humans and your ‘romance,’” Adagio said with a shake of her head. “Pathetic.”

Pinkie Pie burst back into the room, carrying two forests’ worth of colored paper and stationery supplies. “Hey!” she yipped, throwing the piles of letters and envelopes on the floor in front of her friends. “I was thinking about fun things we could do before bed, and guess what I thought of!”

Fluttershy grabbed a sheet of paper and pair of scissors, then snipped out a quick pattern. “Paper angels?” she asked, stretching out the paper.

Adagio did the same, cutting the paper into the shape of playing cards. She dealt them out. “Strip poker.”

“Nope!” Pinkie said, sliding across the floor on her knees and pulling them both into a hug. She thrashed her head about, spraying dozens of pencils and crayons from her hair. As they tumbled to the floor, she tossed an envelope to each of her friends. “We’re gonna write letters to Santa Hooves!”

Every face went blank. Sunset blinked a few times before asking, “Santa?”

“I already wrote my letter, and I’m sure most of you have.” Pinkie passed Adagio a pencil. “But this is Adagio’s first Hearth’s Warming off the Naughty List, and she needs to let Santa know what she wants!”

Adagio took the pencil and stared at it. “I don’t follow.”

Rarity, Sunset, and Fluttershy all exchanged glances. “Ah, Pinkie, darling,” Rarity said, wincing. “Are you quite serious about this?”

“Yeah, like, you’re not joking?” Sunset asked.

“Of course not. Santa’s a busy man—he’s got no time for jokes!” Pinkie said, her smile fading into a serious glower. Within a second, though, she had returned to her normal chipper demeanor. “Which is too bad. He’s got such a funny laugh!”

“Oh, of course,” Fluttershy said, flashing a too-wide grin. “It’s just that, um...”

Adagio examined her nails. “I was under the impression Santa was a commercial entity designed to sell expensive toys to fat children—agh!”

As Adagio leaped across the floor to slap the spray bottle from Sunset’s hand, Pinkie’s face darkened. “Wait,” she said, furrowing her brows. She looked at her friends. “You guys do believe in Santa, right?”

They exchanged another glance. “Uh...”

Pinkie gasped. “Oh no, no, no—girls, this is bad! You have to believe in Santa! You have to, or else you won’t get any presents!”

“I’m not quite sure that's how it works,” Sunset said.

Rarity reached over and laid her hand on Pinkie’s knee. “I’m sorry, dear. We thought you knew! I mean, most people stop believing in him around the time they turn ten—”

“So you’re saying Pinkamena’s as smart as a ten-year-old?” Adagio asked with a smirk. Pinkie’s entire body drooped.

“Adagio, stop it,” Sunset snapped. She turned to Pinkie. “Sorry, Pinks. Santa just isn’t our thing.”

Pinkie sighed, slouching in her seat. “It’s okay, I guess.”

Adagio snorted. With a defiant flip of her hair, she wrapped an arm around Pinkie’s waist and pulled her close once again. “It’s quite alright, Pinkamena. Unlike your ‘friends’ here, I believe in Santa with all my heart.”

“But, wait,” Fluttershy said, raising a hesitant finger. “Aren’t you the one who said—”

“I was merely repeating what I’ve heard from you humans,” Adagio said, spitting out the last word like mud. “If Pinkamena says this Santa character is real, then it must be true. And besides: I’m a sea creature who controls teenagers through pop music. You’re a bunch of half-human half-horse wizards. Who says there can’t be a fat man in a sled speeding around the sky somewhere?”

At once, Pinkie’s hair grew three sizes. She cheered and smothered Adagio in a hug. “Oh, thank goodness you believe, Dagi! I don’t know what I would do if you missed out on your first year on the Nice List.”

Adagio grinned and ran a hand down one of Pinkie’s wide hips. “Oh, it’s no problem at all—I thought I broke that wretched bottle!”

Drying the spray nozzle off on her shirt, Sunset offered Pinkie a smile. “If it makes you feel better, we can still write letters to Santa. It’ll be fun, right?” She looked to Rarity and Fluttershy, who both murmured in agreement. Sunset stood and passed out sheets of paper, pens, and envelopes to the entire group. A comfortable silence overtook the room as they all set to work.

Adagio chewed on the cap of her pen and stared at the blank sheet in front of her. Scratching out a quick “Dear Santa,” she tried to think of what she wanted most for Christmas: total enslavement of the human race, or a nice bottle of aged red wine. She decided on the latter.

It was just as she wrote her demand, however, that she noticed something strange in the corner of her eye: Pinkie Pie frowning. Adagio turned to look at Pinkie, only to find the girl clutching a stuffed alligator to her chest and gazing out at her friends with wistful eyes. Every few moments she would let out the smallest of sighs, barely audible over the constant scritch of pen against paper.

Adagio jabbed Pinkie in the shoulder with her pen and asked, “What’s wrong with you? Why aren't you writing?”

“I already wrote my letter, remember?” Pinkie said, managing a shaky smile. She curled into a ball, holding her legs against her chest. “So I’m just watching. Just watching everyone write their fake letters to fake Santa...”

Adagio raised a brow. Shuffling closer to Pinkie, she asked, “I thought you believed in the Big Man.”

“I do!” Pinkie said. “I totally believe in Santa! It’s just—sometimes it’s hard, y’know? Everyone at school and all my sisters are always saying he’s fake, and it makes me really sad. You’re the first adult I’ve ever met who believes in him. I thought that maybe the girls would be different, but I guess not.”

Pinkie buried her face in her knees. “Maybe they’re all right. Maybe Santa isn’t real.”

Adagio froze for a moment. When she regained control of her body, she moved away from Pinkie and picked up her wine glass. “Perhaps,” she said. She downed the rest of her drink in one gulp, then gritted her teeth. “Perhaps.”

A few hours later, Adagio stared up at the darkened ceiling, nestled in her sleeping bag. Her ears were filled with the soft sound of breathing, and snoring, and Rarity moaning about greased-up men wearing bow ties. Rarity had just finished her third full minute describing the abs of some guy named Blueblood when Adagio buried her head under her pillow and turned over in her sleeping bag. She clenched her eyes shut and tried to let sleep take her—it refused.

A warm buzz coursed through Adagio’s brain: the result of drinking five straight glasses of red wine without eating any pizza. Not that Adagio regretted her decision; pizza was greasy, fattening, and not at all fit for a siren of her stature. Usually Adagio would be asleep by now, enjoying dreams of locking Celestia away in a cage and feeding her nothing but vegan tofu cake for the rest of her immortal life.

But instead Adagio lay wide awake, not a gram of fatigue in her bones. Cursing under her breath, she took the pillow off of her head and opened her eyes.

Her gaze fell immediately on the calendar that hung above Pinkie’s bed. Pinkie Pie had marked off every day of the month with messy red glitter pens, moving closer and closer to that special holiday every human seemed to love: Hearth’s Warming. Pinkie had circled the day at least twelve times, and written above it in big letters, “SANTA COMES!!!”

Adagio gripped her sleeping bag and tore her gaze away. Pinkie Pie’s miserable face lingered in her thoughts, forcing a grimace. A dull pain ached in her stomach—some mix of nausea and warmth, thrumming through her body with every memory of Pinkie’s sighs. This wasn’t a feeling Adagio had ever encountered before. She pushed it away—probably just some bad wine.

She turned over again, this time to face Pinkie’s bed. She tried to resist, but within seconds was staring up at Pinkie’s face. Pinkie’s breaths came slow and steady, and if Adagio strained her neck, she could almost smell the frosting that always seemed to coat Pinkie’s soft skin.

Adagio wished that humans weren’t so pitifully weak. Why did Pinkie have to abandon her beliefs so easily? It didn’t matter if she was completely wrong—a true leader never admitted defeat, even if everything they believed went against basic common sense. That was World Domination 101.

Adagio scowled, but closed her eyes again. What would make Pinkie stronger? What would make her believe?

An idea popped into Adagio’s mind, and before she could even comprehend it, she snapped up in her sleeping bag. Thoughts sped past, new plans forming with every passing second.

She knew in her heart of hearts that this was crazy. That this was stupid, pitiful. This was the alcohol speaking. No human was worth this sort of effort.

She waited until Rarity let out a particularly loud moan, then crept out of bed, grabbed her clothes by the door, and left the room.

The clock had just struck twelve when Adagio finally returned from the mall. A tremor ran through her body as she hopped the fence to Pinkie Pie's backyard. The cold midnight air bit at her skin like a starving wolf, threatening to eat her alive.

Of course, hypothermia was a small price to pay if it meant looking as sexy as she did. Thank heavens she had left Pinkie's house in a rush; five more minutes and the mall would have closed, leaving her out of luck. Now walking through the yard, she wore neither street clothes nor her lingerie. Instead, Adagio sported a replica Santa Hooves outfit, purchased on sale from a costume store.

Well, it wasn’t exactly a Santa outfit—more like a “Santa” outfit. While Adagio had the right dangly hat and perfect bushy beard, she had taken some liberties with the rest of the costume. Her shirt was unbuttoned almost the whole way down, barely concealing her breasts. As for her skirt... from most angles, it may as well have not existed, it covered her assets so poorly.

Still, she looked damn good, and the sultry glances she had received from women on the way out of the mall were worth her fingers beginning to turn blue. Probably. Maybe.

Shivering, Adagio scurried to the door to the basement of Pinkie’s house. She turned the handle, but the door didn’t budge. Jiggling the lock didn’t work either. Adagio stepped back, glanced around the yard a few times for another entrance, and when that yielded no results, took a deep breath and kicked the door in.

The crack of splintering wood covered Adagio’s shriek as a piercing pain exploded in her foot. She stuffed a fist into her mouth to stem the rising tide of curses and slurs fighting to be let out. Adagio didn’t know much about Hearth’s Warming, but was this what Pinkie thought Santa did every year?

Adagio hobbled through the basement and up the stairs to the house proper. On her way, she passed Marble Pie’s indoor zen garden; the Pie family’s prize-winning feldspar collection; and a massive dog cage marked “Boulder,” which only held a single round pebble.

Adagio had to stop for a moment to stare at the last one. With a shake of her head and a roll of her eyes, she moved on. “Humans.”

She crept through the kitchen, across the living room, and down the hall to Pinkie’s room. She stopped to peek her head in—when she was sure everyone was asleep, she slipped inside. Stepping over Sunset and Fluttershy and Rarity (who was now drooling), Adagio made her way to Pinkie’s bed and gazed at her slumbering target with soft eyes. Pinkie held her stuffed alligator tight, murmuring dreamt-up words into its fabric.

Adagio took a breath. Showtime.

“Pinkamena,” she said, grabbing Pinkie and shaking her. “Wake up. We need to talk.”

Pinkie grunted and batted Adagio away. When it became clear she wasn’t about to retreat, however, Pinkie’s eyes fluttered open. She cast a bleary-eyed glare at Adagio—then went completely stiff.

“Sa—San—” Pinkie blabbered. Her entire body trembled. “Santa...?”

Adagio waved. “Ho ho ho, cutie.”

Pinkie gasped hard enough that Adagio felt her beard being sucked in. Then, in a thunderous shout: “Oh my freaking gosh, you’re Santa—”

Her yelp ground to a halt as Adagio slapped a hand over her mouth. “Quiet!” Adagio said, looking at the girls on the floor. “You’re gonna wake up the others. I wanna keep this between you and me.”

When Adagio removed her hand, Pinkie bit her lip and tugged at her hair, as if she would explode at any moment. She managed a nod, then squeaked out, “Santa, what are you doing here? It’s not Hearth’s Warming for another week!” Pinkie looked Adagio up and down. “And why are you naked?”

“Half-naked,” Adagio said, tugging down her skirt a bit.

“Uh-huh.” Pinkie’s gaze locked on Adagio’s chest. “And if you're a boy, then why do you have...?”

“The soda companies and the toy stores all got it wrong,” Adagio said. She puffed out her chest and cast Pinkie a heady stare. “I am one-hundred-percent female, my dear.” She paused, then stroked her beard. “And before you ask, this is real. Women can have beards. It’s a thing. Look it up.”

“Oh, I know. Granny Pie has a beard!” Pinkie said. “But don’t you have a wife? Mrs. Santa Hooves?”

“Yeah, so?” Adagio asked, snatching Pinkie by her collar. “You got a problem with that?”

Pinkie giggled. “Of course not. I like girls, silly!”

The wind left Adagio’s lungs. With a gulp, she let go of Pinkie’s shirt and nodded. “Right.” She took a second to shake off her stupor before screwing up her face and saying, “Now are you just gonna ask questions, or what?”

“I’m sorry, Santa. I’m just so excited! I wanna know everything!” Pinkie leaned into Adagio. “Do your reindeer really pee rainbows? How much do you pay your elves? Are they unionized? What’s your favorite snack? It’s cupcakes, right? Everyone says it’s cookies, but I know I’m right!”

“Calm yourself,” Adagio said, grabbing Pinkie’s shoulders. “I’m not here for an interview. I’m here to thank you.”

Pinkie stopped vibrating and tilted her head. “Thank me? For what?”

“For believing in me, of course.” Adagio smiled. “I’ve seen the way you talk about me to your friends. You’re too kind, really.”

Pinkie managed a half-hearted grin. “Yep,” she muttered. “I believe. But sometimes it seems like I’m the only one.”

Adagio crossed her arms. “Does that matter?”

“Well, yeah!” Pinkie said. “When I’m the only one who believes in you, it gets super lonely sometimes. Whenever I go to mail my letter to you at the mall, everyone always laughs at me. ‘There goes Pinkie, acting like a baby.’ I can’t even talk about you without people thinking I’m stupid.”

“Well, screw them!” hissed Adagio, blood suddenly boiling.

Pinkie recoiled. “Huh?”

Adagio blinked. Shaking her head, she said, “What I mean is, y’know, you don’t have to listen to those people! All they’re trying to do is bring you down. You’re above them, Pinkie. You’re superior!”

“But what about them not believing in you?” Pinkie asked. “How can they think you don’t exist?”

“Some people just don’t believe in things they can't see,” Adagio said with a shrug. “It’s just how humans are. But here’s the thing: sometimes, things can be real without making any sense. I mean, look at that awful magic of yours! Just your ears violate the laws of physics. So don’t worry if your friends don’t believe; what’s important is that you do.”

Pinkie nodded. “Yeah, maybe you’re right—wait, what did you call my magic?”

“Nothing,” Adagio said. She laid a hand on Pinkie’s. “You’ve believed in me for so long. Don’t give up now.”

Pinkie grabbed Adagio’s hand. “I’m trying my best, Santa.” Her chin quivered. “But it’s really hard.”

Adagio opened her mouth to respond, but stopped short. Something tugged at her bones—something sinister. Something despicable. Something disgusting. She cursed the alcohol flowing through her veins.

Adagio leaned forward and hugged Pinkie.

She rested her chin on Pinkie’s shoulder. “I know it’s hard. But sometimes, the bravest thing of all is faith.” Adagio felt Pinkie tremble beneath her, and held her tighter. “Stay strong, Pinkamena. This world needs more humans like you.”

Pinkie buried her face into Adagio’s hair and made a few small squeaking sounds.

The two of them sat like that for a few minutes, with no sound but their own shaky breathing. Adagio felt a comfortable warmth wrap around her—and, with it, that constant scent of cake frosting. When Pinkie finally pulled away, Adagio found herself wishing that they could have stayed like that for hours, joined together against the cold. She pushed the thought away.

“Thank you, Santa.” Pinkie sniffled. “I needed that.”

Adagio stood up and bowed. “It was my pleasure, dear. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to the North Pole; I’ve been gone for a few hours now, and Mrs. Hooves tends to get angry when I sneak out without telling her.” Adagio turned to the side and hiked up her skirt a bit. “Just can’t get enough of this.”

Cheeks going red, Pinkie giggled.

Adagio basked in her laughter for a second, then tiptoed back to the door. At the doorway, however, she stopped and cast one last glance back at Pinkie.

“And by the way,” Adagio said, gripping the door handle. “Thanks for being kind to that Adagio girl. She... she’s trying her best too, you know. Really.”

Pinkie yawned and rubbed an eye. “I know. Adagio is a real sweetie—even if she maybe still wants to destroy the human race.”

Adagio chuckled. “I’m sure that even if she does, she would be happy to spare your life.”

“I hope so.” Pinkie laid down and closed her eyes. “I hope so...”

Adagio waited until Pinkie’s breathing calmed, then left the room. Her entire body felt hot, despite the frigid air. She looked into a mirror on the wall and found her cheeks flushed. She took a hard swallow and kept walking. Must be sick.

She headed back the way she came, down the hall, through the living room, across the kitchen—she made sure to stop and pick up a bottle from the wine rack when she passed.

“Thank you, Santa,” she said, resting it on her shoulder as she headed down the stairs to the basement. She hummed a tune and turned a corner.

Maud sat three feet in front of her, fiddling with the latch on the Boulder cage.

The two locked eyes, silent.

With a stilted laugh, Adagio tugged down her skirt and buttoned her top. “Aheh heh... Um. Ho ho ho?”

Maud blinked. “I can see that.”

Adagio held her head high and walked past Maud, slapping her on the back as she went. “Just stopping by to, uh, examine your decorations! Yes, that’s it. Make sure they’re up to snuff, yeah?” Adagio spun around and poked Maud in the chest with the wine bottle. “You wouldn’t want me to skip your house, would you?”

“Adagio, you broke down our back door. You let a raccoon in.”

Adagio groaned and tore off her fake beard. “Okay, okay, look: I’ll pay for a new door, an exterminator, whatever you need. Just... just don’t tell Pinkamena it was me, okay?”

“Alright.” Maud crossed her arms. “But you owe me a favor.”

Adagio groaned again. Grumbling, she reached up and began to unbutton her shirt.

“No,” Maud said, eyes going the least bit wider. “Not that. Please.”

“What then?”

“I have to decide. I’ll let you know when I do,” Maud said. She walked back to the staircase, then cast a small smile back at Adagio. “Goodnight, Santa Hooves.”

Adagio scowled. With a sneeze, she hurried out of the basement and out of the backyard, headed to where she hid her regular clothes.

The next morning, Adagio trudged down the hall to the kitchen, sniffling all the way. Mucus poured from her nose, and her head pounded with the force of a bongo drum. Her hair hung in streaks over her face. So much for looking sexy; not even lingerie could save this wreck of a siren.

When she entered the kitchen, Sunset, Rarity, and Fluttershy all called a greeting to her. “What happened to you?” Sunset asked. “What, did you jump out the window or something while we were asleep?”

Adagio poured herself a liberal dose of orange juice. “Yes.”

As the others laughed, Pinkie Pie sped by on a pair of roller skates and laid a steaming plate of pancakes in front of Adagio. The topmost cake wore a smiley face, with two pats of butter for the eyes and a string of chocolate chips for the mouth.

“Good morning!” Pinkie said, stopping at the head of the table. “Hope you like your pancakes, Dagi! They were made with happiness and love and loads of high fructose corn syrup. That’s the best kind of corn syrup!”

Adagio took a hesitant bite, expecting it to taste like sludge, the same as most human food. And yet, even through her cold, it tasted... good? She took another bite, then another, and within a minute was through her first pancake.

Pinkie rolled by and ruffled her hair. “Glad you like it!”

“The pancakes really are delicious,” Fluttershy said.

Sunset threw Pinkie a grin. “What’s got you so hyped up this morning, Pinks? Find where your parents are keeping the presents?”

“I had the absolute best night ever!” Pinkie said, throwing her hands into the air. She sped over and grabbed Sunset’s shoulders. “Santa Hooves visited me! In my room! Can you believe it?”

Rarity shook her head. “I thought we had this conversation yesterday, Pinkie.”

“Yeah, I know you don’t believe in her, but this is true!” Pinkie said. “She really did visit, just so she could talk to me. She had a big beard, and a jolly laugh, and the sexiest bod I’ve ever seen!”

Adagio coughed up a pancake.

“Are you sure it wasn’t a dream?” Fluttershy asked.

Pinkie gave a vigorous nod. “I’m sure!”

As they were oft to do, the three exchanged a glance—then all offered Pinkie a smile. “Whatever you say,” Sunset said, returning to her meal.

Any semblance of amusement on Pinkie’s face disappeared. She pouted and slumped into a seat, eyes falling to the floor, quiet.

Across from her, Adagio mouthed a prayer.

And before Adagio could finish, the grin returned to Pinkie’s face. She laughed and skated back over to her friends. “It’s okay that you don’t believe me,” she said, hugging each one individually. “I love you anyway.”

“We love you, too,” Rarity said, returning the gesture. She smirked. “Isn’t that right, Adagio?”

Adagio snorted and prepared a snarky retort—but when Pinkie came around and hugged her, she just looked down. “Whatever.”

The group called another greeting as Maud walked in, carrying Boulder in her hand. She laid him down on the table and sat down. Pinkie handed her a plate, and she set to work.

“Ooh, you’re in a good mood today,” Pinkie said, watching Maud eat. “What’s up? Did Santa visit you, too?”

Adagio tensed up—until Maud shook her head and said, “No.” She grabbed Adagio’s shoulder. “But your friend here promised that she would help out at next month’s activity fair. The Geology Club needs someone to wear the quartzite costume.”

Adagio slammed her fork on the table. “I agreed to no such—”

Maud tightened her grip on Adagio’s shoulder.

Biting down the curses flying up her throat, Adagio forced a grin. “I mean, of course I did! How could I have forgotten?”

“For real?” Sunset gave a slow clap. “That’s awesome, Adagio. Maybe soon we can pour out the Friendship Spray for good!”

Adagio slumped in her seat. “Woo.”

Pinkie kissed Adagio on the cheek.

Adagio shot up straight. With a slack jaw, she gazed up at Pinkie.

“You’re off the Naughty List for sure,” Pinkie said. She skated away.

For a moment, Adagio just sat, petrified. Then, heart booming, she went back to eating. A part of her begged to make some comment about how disgusting human kisses were—but it was a bit hard to speak with that big goofy smile on her face.

Author's Note

If you enjoyed this story, you may also enjoy this blog post by the lovely Quill Scratch! It breaks down various parts of the story and puts them through some very intriguing analysis.