Chapter 8: Endure And Prevail!

...Moon Shine woke up for the sharp, burning rays of sun, filtering in through the blinds; it caressed the shoulder of sleeping Cheerilee with its gentle, warm fingers, danced around in the locks of her hair – and he felt terrible hangover; dizziness overcoming all other senses, and the floor seemed to rock as the ship deck during storm, so he had to catch for the wardrobe to maintain his balance.

“Never ever again am I drinking beer with Rungo...” - he muttered, stumbling towards the kitchen and gazing wearily towards the kitchen clock: eight in the morning.

“Oh wow, I'm early, you Excellence; guess that makes me an early bird...” - Moon declared, addressing the Grey Cardinal and reaching into the fridge for some mineral water; his throat felt like a desert, swiped with the hot winds of alcohol exhausts, and the tongue felt much like woolen mitten; decapitating the bottle with one spin, the man gulped down greedily, relishing in the blissful chill of the fizzy torrent, washing all over his dry larynx and streaming down, filling the chest with satisfying coolness; ending the whole bottle in one desperate bottoms-up, he exhaled loudly, smacking his lips a couple of times, smiling blissfully at the feeling of dissipating vertigo; weighing all his options, he concluded his best to get the day started, rather then clamber back in bed and cuddle with Cheerilee; however, the temptation was strong... Warm, soft, tender Cheerilee, she would stir in her sleep and cuddle closer to him, gently snoring, she'd tuck her head into his chest, embraced tightly by her dreams... Ummm, what a treat for a long-lonely gentleman...

However, Moon shook off the tempting pictures in his mind and reached for his pants, just in case; if there was any emergency, he'd not be caught with his pants off, that's for sure. Consider making it your motto, sneered 'conscience', 'Thou willst not catch me with me britches down!'.

Meh, he mused, too tacky. He was rummaging through the small stacks of clothes in the shelves of his wardrobe, until he found his very favourite piece: a rather baggy ochre-yellow T-shirt with a peculiar print: it depicted a big jackdaw, sporting a stunt helmet, aviator's can goggles and a parachute pack, and the caption below read 'Safety First'.

“Now this is more fitting...” - declared Moon, referencing both the garment and the words on it as regarded to his hypothetical motto; as he was about to head towards bathroom for a morning hygienic routine, a gentle knock on the door stopped him dead; cautiously approaching the door, he inquired who was there, blaming himself for the slacking in terms of installing at least a spy hole.

“Is mister Moon Shine here?” - a familiar voice with a slight accent rang from behind. A feminine one. - “It's Rarity Belle, his student!”

Ohmai, boi – ur gunna do Raritee?, jeered the 'conscience'. Cuz what's the other reason she'd run by your door – 'seeking for a washroom'?

Moon opened the door, praising himself for his wisdom as to put on at least a decent set of home wear garments, rather than rushing around the place now in a desperate search of at least a bathrobe not to disgrace himself as presenting au naturel:

“Morning, miss Belle – you sure are an early bird. How can I help you?”

“Why, mister Moon – I brought you the ensemble I've tailored especially for you for the case of our big day!” - chirped the faschionista, a coat case dangling on its hook from her palm. - “Dare I say that it'll be marvelous on you...” - she stopped short, finally noticing the Moon's rather disheveled exterior: bloodshot eyes, faint-but-still-noticeable alcohol exhaust in his breath, stubble – and a fancy T-shirt with a safety-conscious jackdaw. Smooth, grinned the 'conscience'.

“Eh... Am I interrupting something, sir?..” - she poked carefully. - “I may come by later, shall you please, or you might just visit my boutique...”

“Oh, it's totally fine, miss Belle!” - Moon quickly assured, desperately trying to straighten at least his hair. - “I just had a... good party last night. It's so sweet of you to come to me in person as to hand over that wonderful creation of yours, I am much obliged... By the way, what do I owe you?..”

“Oh, darling!' - Rarity threw herself back in astonishment. - “Of course it's no charge! How could you possibly think of such... mauvais tone?!” - she scoffed, obviously struck at the soft spot.

“Oh... I apologize, miss Belle; I didn't quite thought it over. No offence meant, really... I so beg your pardon...” - Moon's almost-earnest crestfallen face seemingly soothed Rarity's outburst, and she nodded graciously:

“Your apologies are accepted, fine sir; granted that you're new to our school, I suppose you haven't quite came to know any of us enough... I, in turn, also apologize for such... harsh reaction. No offence.” - she batted her long eyelashes at Moon, making puppy eyes.

“None taken, of course. Please, miss Rarity – come in! Tea, coffee, maybe?..” - the man invited, mentally scolding himself for clumsiness.

“Oh, many thanks, darling, but I fear I shall reject your generous offer.” - Rarity replied, stepping inside. - “Say, I humbly suppose that you should try your garment on – no, I positively insist on you doing so! This way I could see if there was anything in need of refinement!” - she handed Moon the envelope, and practically pushed him away.

Obediently, he retreated to the bedroom, unwrapping the unexpected present: it was a classical, brand-new tuxedo, tailored with precision and attention to the details; he quickly threw it on, clasping the enclosed belt tight and tying the bowtie; this done, Moon stepped to the mirror and spun around, looking at himself from every angle.

The attire was perfect; it fit him like a glove, making Moon Shine, the ex-mercenary and a present con artist with some sick luck with ladies, look like a refined gentleman of a noble lineage.

“Miss Belle, you're a magician, I say...” - he shook his head in amazement, presenting his tuxedo-packed self to Rarity, who gasped at sight:

“Why, sir – you look fabulous! I could not even fathom such a favorable outcome!”

“The praise is all yours, milady – I bow to your craft.” - replied Moon wholeheartedly, giving the faschionista a curt bow, making her squeal and applaud shortly with excitement:

“Now, sir, may I ask you to stand still and raise your hands sideways? I must see how it is fitting!” - commanded Rarity, producing a fancy red glasses and putting them on her nose. Moon obeyed the order, standing stock still as the young lady circled around him, straightening the wrinkles she only could've see and wiping away the specks of dust only she could feel.

“It's perfect!” - she announced, bubbling with excitement. - “Oh, what a relief! I feared this ensemble would never come out as it should since I never got to measure you properly!”

“eh...” - Moon Shine bleated miserably, fearing even to fathom how did Rarity managed to whip up a perfectly fitting suit without measuring him, as the girl kept on rambling, the volume of drama increasing:

“...and since I could always trust my eyes, I've concluded the measurements roughly, risking my reputation!! Oh, what a joy it is – to see the gratitude for the fruits of one's toil!..” - she darted a stare at Moon, pause growing awkward.

“Miss Belle, I'm astonished with the amount of skill and generosity you're presenting as of now... I am speechless, truly am!” - muttered Shine. - “It is truly a feat of you – running such lenghts as to make sure I will look properly at the concert. I've never seen such devotion before, Miss Belle...”

“Oh, it's nothing, darling...” - she retorted with a generous wave of hand, slightly blushing with praise. - “I still have to have all members of Aurora Borealis in my boutique so that I could see if their ensembles fit them as well as your does!”

“All... members?..” - Shine stuttered, feeling his knees grow weak.

“Why of course! I cannot allow my friends – my peers – to disgrace themselves, committing a crime of fashion as severe as being underdressed for such grand occasion! However, with them it was much easier, as they were kind enough to let me have their measures...” - Rarity let out a small giggle. - “Oh! And that reminds me!” - she dives into her bag, rustles around for a moment and produces another envelope:

“Please, mister Moon, be a dear and pass over to Miss Cheerilee this little souvenir from me; I humbly supposed she'd like to attend the concert as well, and I surely cannot allow such a lovely lady to appear not as stunning as she is!” - the tailor girl rolled her eyes. - “Do me a favor, please – and let Miss Cheerilee know that she should positively not put that on until the day of the concert! It'll be a surprise for you, mister Moon...” - she lilted, giving out a sly wink.

“Duly noted...” - stuttered the man, holding the brown paper envelope as gingerly as if it was full of delicate chinaware. - “I'll see to it fir sure, miss Belle. I just cannot thank you enough, I fear...”

“Oh my goodness gracious, look at the time!!” - gasped Rarity, grabbing her bag. - “I must've been at the boutique five minutes ago!! Oh my!!”

“Should I...” - started Moon, as Rarity dashed away, crying out: “Taxi!!”; the cab pulled over immediately, and, boarding the yellow vehicle, Rarity lingered for a second, shouting: “Have a marvelous day, mister Moon!” - and blowing him a kiss; the door closed, engine roared, and Rarity was gone for good, leaving the befuddled gentleman on the threshold of his house, holding an envelope.

Half an hour later, when Moon hung his concert attire in the wardrobe and finally proceeded with the morning routine – shaving, washing and whatnot – he was brewing coffee and patching up some light breakfast for two; Cheerilee still seemed to be asleep.

“Pretty much tucked out, poor thing...” - he sighed to himself, humming a cheerful, though sticky tune he had heard once.

“Morning...” - came a sleepy voice from the bedroom, and Moon grinned, filtering the freshly brewed coffee through the sieve into the two cups:

“Breakfast incoming in sixty! Hold your ground!” - putting the spread on the tray, he headed for bedroom, grinning widely as Cheerilee sat up in bed, smiling sleepily, letting out a small yawn:

“Morning, Shiny... Wow, that's a spread.”

“Yep. One breakfast in bed for a lovely lady of beauty and smarts...” - reported Moon, setting the tray onto the bed. - “How's the land of Morpheus?”

“As usual – weird and vivid...” - she laughed. - “You're early; I thought you'd sleep till noon – judging by how wasted you were yesterday...”

“Guilty as charged,” - sighed Moon. - “ran into an old friend of mine; hoped to get away easily, but no, of course not – and the innocent 'two beer, please' transformed into 'oi, mate – let's paint the town red!!', hence the wasted-ness...”.

“Yeah, old friends...” - Cheerilee sighed, putting the tray aside. - “So, how's the morning? I can definitely smell the good aftershave and some tomato juice. That hallmark pick-me-up of yours?”

“Oh, I'm glad you've asked...” - Moon grinned coyly, presenting Cheerilee the envelope. - “Hut! Don't open it just yet, or Rarity will have my head on a stake.”

“Rarity?”

“Yup. That's the fun part, really – once I was up and heading to hit the showers, Rarity showed up and presented me with a freakin' badass tuxedo, motivating that I had to look properly for the concert... But the best here is she had made it by the rule of thumb, from scratch! I mean, she caught all the measurements right by the rule of thumb...” - recalling that weird part, Moon scratched the back of his head in befuddlement. - “I can't believe it.”

“Well, if you've known Rarity as long as I do...” - chuckled Cheerilee. - “She might be a drama queen and sometimes a real pain in the neck, but she's a wonderful person, heart of gold, and genuinely generous.”

“I can say! Any tailor would've charged me a fortune for a tuxedo like this, and she just kinda... shrugged it off, like it was nothing...”

“Yup, that's Rarity for you...” - sighed Cheerilee. - “And what's with this?”

“She left a very specific instructions on that part: she said to give it to you and avoid seeing you wearing this at all costs until the day of concert; guess she's up to something...”

“Well, yes, one of Rarity's most notable features is her talent for seeking gossip...” - shrugged Cheerilee. - “But she's a proper lady, so she's not the one to kiss and tell. If she knows something – and I bet she does – she'll keep it to herself. Or spread to Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie and Sunset Shimmer tops. And neither of them are the mad gossip ships, so...” - the teacher lady ran her fingers over the twine knot, holding the envelope together, and a coy smile crept up her face:

“Say, Shine – did you notice something... different about me?..” - pulling the blanket down, she leaned in a tempting pose.

“Er...” - gulped the man, darting his eyes all over the sight presented; something was off, obviously – but, as it usual is, the difference was so obvious and subtle he couldn't just put a finger on it.

“Okay, here's the hint...” - cooed Cheerilee, letting one strap of her night gown slide down delicately.

Night gown!!, flashed in Moon's mind, as he was observing, awestruck, the way that fine cloth cascaded down the lady's frame, outlining every curve of her delicate body in a way that gave him the shivers, rocketing from the top of his neck down the spine.

“You like?..” - the schoolmarm purred seductively. Moon was so dumbstruck he could just nod; the not-just-transparent weave was just running him crazy.

“Good...” - the lady licked her lips, giving the awestruck man a lidded look. - “Come here. I kind of missed you...” - throwing her arms over his neck and pulling him down, Cheerilee smirked triumphantly as Moon's lips found the tender skin of her neck, giving it light kisses and nibbles, rewarded with a soft moans of pleasure.

“Cheerilee, the coffee'll grow cold.”

“Do I look like I mind?..”...

As the D-Day was approaching, the subtle tension, lingering in the atmosphere of Canterlot High only got more dense by the day; Aurora Borealis, the home-grown conceptual orchestra, were doing their best in rehearsals, Rainbooms were tearing the strings and fingers apart practicing, and even Snowflake was unusually quiet, resorting to the normal humane volume of voice rather than the exaspirated bellow he usually executed. The concert itself was due tomorrow.

Moon Shine, however, was perfectly content, reviewing the events of the past week: two wonderful days after Rarity's visit, he took Cheerilee out for a date, brewing a sly plan of his; the lady enjoyed herself, while Shine was striving to muster enough courage to utter what he had in mind.

Eventually, he succeeded, and harrumphed quietly, laying his hand over Cheerilee's:

“Er – Cheers... I've got something I need to talk to you about...”

“Of course.” - the lady beamed at him. - “What's it, Shiny?”

“I was thinking... You know...” - he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, presented to the thrilled and excited Cheerilee in front of him; she was obviously expecting something... - “Well, you see – we're together for, well, not-so-long, but I think I might have a... dayum. I think I want to ask of you to move to my place, Cheerilee. Permanently.” - he finally declared, looking the lady square in the eyes. - “Yes. And I might also have another idea, but that's not the subject matter as of now.”

“Of course I accept your offer... and the other one...” - Cheerilee smiled softly at him, caressing his trembling palm tenderly. - “And guess what – I was going to ask the same of you, but... I kind of just chickened out.”

“Well, good thing I didn't...” - chuckled Moon, feeling elated at the sense of knot undone in his chest. - “Cause I believe this might've linger.”

Cheerilee playfully poked him under the table:

“Don't get too cheeky!”

“My bad, ma'am; I deserve a detention...” - he grimaced, pouting and making puppy eyes. - “Would you make me write lines?..”

“I have something more... educating in mind.” - Cheerilee chuckled, a dangerous fire blinking in her eyes. - “You'll see.”

Shiver in anticipation, boi.

Smiling at the memory of that evening – and what followed – Shine made his way through the halls, heading for the Principle's office; he had no formal assignment there, but ten minutes prior his beeper buzzed, receiving a message:

“The sown seed bore blossom; come see me. Aurora Borealis”.

All the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle clicked into place, and Moon boomed with laughter, earning a startled gazes from the involuntarily audience; he straightened up, wiped a tear and mustered an excuse, sneaking away for a quick smoke to pacify his wrecked nerve.

Now, he knocked on the door to the Principle's office, straightening his posture as not to give out any hints of what he had learnt about the not-so-little and not-so-harmless mischief of the dignified lady.

“Come in.” - came from inside, and Moon practically marched inside.

“Moon Shine, am I glad to see you...” - Celestia grinned, pulling down the blinds. - “Or should I call you 'Gaius Tiberius'?” - Moon didn't even twitched a brow at the sly comment. - “Lock the door and come take a seat. I have something you'd like to see.”

The man obliged, taking a seat in front of the desk and making himself comfortable. He chuckled:

“Aurora Borealis, huh? Smart move, ma'am...”

“Drop the formalities, Tiberius, call me 'Tia'.” - giggled the lady, throwing her long, flowing, northern-lights hair back. - “Let's not linger on the small facts; look here. I think you'll find it... amusing.” - she promised, tossing him a newspaper across the desk; Moon – Gaius Tiberius – caught it, unfolding; it was a fresh issue of 'The Herald', and the headlines read:

'Principle of Crystal Prep School: a dignified woman or an extorting boozehead?”.

“So?..” - he furrowed a brow, giving the grinning Celestia a bemused look.

“That's not just it. Turn to the page three...” - she winked, a nasty grin never escaping her fine features.

Tiberius did as he was told to, reading: 'Accident at the Annual Canterlot Gala: Fancy Pants going amok! Mayor drugging guests and striving for extra privileges?”

“Well, that's... mildly amusing.” - he admitted, scanning through the articles before handing the paper back to Celestia. - “But I can't see any direct reason behind this whole setup.”

“Meh, let's say I just had to get back on some people...” - the principle waved the question off nonchalantly. - “And you did it just wonderful. Now that this hag Cinche would have to explain herself to the Educational Commitee, Mayor will have to jump over her butt to maintain the office and Fancy Pants... Well, I don't know, might it be that you're a clairvoyant or was it just a gut guess, but this prick also deserved a nice slice of a humble pie.” - chuckling, Celestia popped a thumbs up at Tiberius. - “That was some great work.”

“It's just being professional.” - nodded Gaius. - “So, we're through as of now, I guess?”

“Almost.” - Celestia produced two folded notes. - “I need you to take this.”

“What's that?”

“Well, this one is from miss Flitter...” - Tia flashed a toothy grin at the slight shudder she had seen in Tiberius. - “And this one... well, I need you to do what is mentioned here and then report me on the details. For extra charge, of course – you're working extra.”

“Noted.” - Moon nodded, hiding the notes in his chest pocket. - “So, am I dismissed?”

“I won't hold you...” - purred the principle, positively basking in the sense of accomplishment. - “But wait, Tiberius – there's one more thing...”

“No spilling beans. Ma'am, I'm a pro at cons.”

“No, I never doubted your loyalty. Will you resume your position as the teacher? I might need your services in the future, and, well... you've been doing good for a lowlife criminal...” - she teased.

Tiberius stood still, quickly running the numbers. In four inhales, he had an answer:

“Yes, I will.”

“Marvelous...” - purred Celestia, leaning back in her armchair. - “So, dismissed, mister Moon Shine, and give my best to Miss Cheerilee.”

Gaius Tiberius/Moon Shine left the office, not even honouring Celestia with a comment.

“Thanks for the ride, my good man!” - he nodded to some strange gentleman who gave him a lift. Checking with the note he was given, Moon went up the stairs to the sturdy blackwood door, ringing a doorbell.

“Coming!” - came the muffled voice from inside the house, somehow making Moon's hair stand ot its ends. Something was oddly familiar about that there voice...

The door opened, revealing a long flowing mane of greenish-blue hair, huge green eyes...

Momma...

“Oh, isn't it the bite lover...” - chuckled Chrysalis, biting her lower lip and running a finger down dumbstruck Moon's chest. - “I was wondering if you'd come...”

“Beg pardon, there must've been a mistake...” - uttered Moon, grasping the only straw he had. - “I must've had the wrong address...”

“Oh no, big man – you've come just right...” - the lady promised ominously, grabbing hold at the Moon's shirt and yanking him inside with one fluid motion.

The door closed shut, and the silky voice of Chrysalis chimed in:

“And now for round two...”

FFFFFFFUUUUUUUUU...

Stumbling back home, finding Cheerilee sound asleep, Gaius Tiberius Lucian – the true name for “Moon Shine” - kicked off his boots and cringed at the feeling of soreness, overcoming his whole body; 'round two' was pretty intense – granted, thankfully, that no whips were included.

“She's not Celestia, Gogdamn it, she's some Trollestia...” - he grumbled, kicking the laptop alive and texting Celestia:

“Job's done. Never expected her to be there. Explain yourself.”

The beep chimed snidingly – or at least it appeared so to the Moon, who was fuming with anger:

“I couldn't help but notice from your previous reports that Chryssie had a special knack for you; and it's not good to leave the lady hanging. Besides, she's a good friend of mine.”

Tiberius' hands trembled hard: he felt waves of wrath washing over him, almost ready to flip his shit all over the place: that... that!.. fook.

He exhaled long and hard, scratching an itch; pouring himself a drink, he created a new e-mail blank and jotted down the extensive report to Trollestia, paying attention to small details so that the report resembled a pulp fiction romance novel; the feeling, hovewer, was cut short with a postscriptum that Moon put in, cackling ominously:

“P.S. Extra charge you've mentioned, make it double. For the trouble.”

Clicking the 'Send' icon, he downed the drink and hiccuped; it was already late at night, and he had a big – no, a HUGE day ahead of him. So, it was best to hit the shower and go asleep.

If only it was that easy – a clumsy stumble over the nightstand made Cheerilee open her eyes, bringing a carnivorous grin to her face...

Well, you've got into it yourself, boi, the 'conscience' sighed, endure! Prevail!!

And Moon did endured and prevailed.