Sunset might have felt bad about doing laundry so late at night if she didn’t already know the neighbors in that building were too strung out to care. Hanging her favorite skirt, it was stained but would probably still be wearable once it dried.

Behind it dangled her beloved leather jacket. Sunset missed her old jacket. Long ago she’d bought a backup coat if ever she should need it... she just never thought about a time it would happen. Though the garment hung, cleaned and patched, in the back of her closet, looking at it too long made her sick to her stomach.

She left her bedroom. She sat at the end of the couch: the farthest point from her closet short of actually leaving her apartment.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sunset Shimmer walked the halls of Canterlot High School. Each step reminded her that at least it was Friday.

First to arrive, she had sat at the corner of the table, had experimentally lifted her blouse and massaged the exposed midriff. “At least I’m not pregnant?” As consoling as the thought may have been - and it was - it would hardly mitigate the gnawing ache of her intestines.

“Ain’t ‘cha gonna eat somethin’, Sugarcube?”

Furtively Sunset unfurled her shirt as Applejack plopped down to her right, tray in hand. “Hey Applejack, I guess I’m not really that hungry.” At the time, she had felt self-consciously aware she had likely been caught rubbing her stomach - which could’ve been taken for a sign of the contrary - but thankfully it wasn’t mentioned.

“Sunset, dear, you must eat something,” Rarity said from behind Applejack, then pushed a small bag of carrots from her own meal.

Her long-time favorite. Sunset smiled despite herself, appreciating the compassion. “Thanks Rare,” she conceded, knowing better than to argue. The fastidious girl waved away the sentiment.

“Hey!” Rainbow Dash cried from the cafeteria doors. She sprinted to the table and crashed into the chair across from Sunset. “I called you like eight times last night! I need your homework, pronto!”

Rarity scoffed at the display and walked around to sit at Applejack’s other side. AJ and Sunset exchanged a grin at Rarity’s exaggerated eye roll.

“Umm, yeah. Sure…” Sunset trailed off, riffling through the contents of her backpack for the singular class they had together. “Cutting it kind of close there Dash, why didn’t you call somebody else?”

Snatching the notebook from her friend, Rainbow flipped the pages from the end for what she was looking for. “Duh, you’re the only one who ever does the whole assignment.” The answer only added to the table’s confusion.

“Right, you never do homework. So why are you doing it now?”

“Can’t talk, working,” was the aloof reply. Sunset’s face scrunched. Note to self: ask first, give answers later.

Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie, each carrying a plastic tray, approached to take a closer look at Rainbow. As Fluttershy stood next to her chair irresolutely, Pinkie shrugged and threw down her lunch in front of Rarity.

Sunset recovered from a flinch and pointed a vegetable at the discomfiting scribbling of their manic-looking friend. “Can either of you explain this?”

“The counselor sent Rainbow an email last night.” Shuffling the chair aside, Fluttershy sat down with great care and caution. “If she doesn’t raise her grades, she won’t be allowed to play in any games for the rest of the semester.”

“That includes the Friendship Games, which isn’t even fair ‘cause it’s not even this semester!”

Arranging her carrots into a small, orange teepee, Sunset chuckled, “I don’t get it. We don’t even deal with that school, why do we suddenly care so much every four years? Who cares if we’re friends with them or not?”

Rainbow flicked down the structure - “Oh no, the food pyramid,” Sunset whined facetiously - ready to bark about the myriad sporting events (that Sunset cared ever-so-much about) the ever-illustrious Crystal Prep Academy would trounce them in. She was interrupted by Applejack shoving her face into the notes, muttering something about being grateful.

“Sunset Shimmer, stop fussing with your food this instant and eat it!” Rarity chided, only smiling when the addressed girl meekly shoved a handful of baby carrots into her mouth. “Better. Now tell me about this marvelous new jacket of yours - not that your other jacket isn’t absolutely you and très dazzling, I’ve simply never seen you without it. Why the big change?”

“Oh,” Sunset started regretfully. The question made her stomach turn especially hard. “I kind of erm, snagged it last night on my way home, and it’s ruined now.”

“Surely it isn’t completely lost! If you’d like, I could look at it for you,” the fashionista offered.

Over several minutes Sunset continued to decline Rarity’s increasingly insistent offer as the others looked on.

Finally, Rainbow had slapped her pencil down. “Look Rare, she doesn’t want you messing w- Whoa, Sunset. What happened to you?”

“Whatever do you mean, Rainbow Dash?” Rarity pursed her lips at the other girl.

Pinkie's hand shot up in the air. The most excitable among them tried interpreting the statement. “Do you mean her hair’s not as shiny as it usually is? Is it the bags under her eyes? Ooh! Ooh! She’s really jumpy!” Each guess listed was a wrought iron anchor in Sunset’s belly.

“Pinkie Pie!” Rarity turned to face Sunset, “What I think she means, darling, is that you seem a bit… out of sorts. Distracted - reclusive even.”

“Not really,” Rainbow interjected. “I mean that.” Her pencil pointed at Sunset’s face, who reached up and brushed where she might have been indicating. She grunted. “Not there.”

Sunset moved her hand a few inches, pausing in question.

Rainbow was not so patient. Lunging over the table, she grabbed Sunset by the shirt and twisted it to the side to show everyone what she saw.

All present gasped.

Except Sunset. “What?” Her friends’ bulging eyes provided unsatisfactory answers. “What?!”

Wordlessly, Rarity pulled from her purse a compact mirror and angled it up for Sunset to see jagged dashes forming an angry red circle.

Adagio Dazzle, you bitch. How was she supposed to explain that? Unable to help herself, Is that the last I’ll see of her?

“Sunset Shimmer, I think I know what happened.” Pinkie said, lowering her head and retreating slightly. “The loss of appetite, the insomnia, the aversion to the light” - Sunset exchanged looks of bewilderment with the rest of her friends - “Did you run into a vampire?”

I honestly don’t know what I expected.

“Or, y’know, she got laid in some back alleyway or something.” The athlete had said it so nonchalantly it was disconcerting.

“It don’t look anything like a hickey! You’re only sayin’ that to make us all uncomfortable.” AJ sounded angry.

“It’s round and red and on her neck… what else am I supposed to think!” Rainbow elbowed the girl at her side, “Back me up on this, Flutters!”

Peeking through pink hair, she squeaks, “It is round.”

Rarity waved off the assumptions, “I’m sure it’s simply a bad reaction to a new lotion or makeup. Sunset?”

“I dunno, something like that I guess.” Sunset shrugged, “I didn’t notice anything strange.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sunset hadn’t liked lying to her friends but what was she supposed to say, the truth?

Between the guilt and the twisting in her gut, she’d ended up vomiting before the end of lunch and had to be escorted to the nurse’s office. After hiding out for a half hour, she requested to attend her last classes to collect her homework. In her last hour, she immediately approached the instructor for the assignment and asked to go back to the nurse.

Her teacher said yes. She went home.

That weekend she was supposed to help Fluttershy at the shelter. She called Rainbow to help in her place; of course Fluttershy understood, she was sick after all.

She spent the next two days by herself, replaying the scene in her mind over and over again. Burned every word exchanged into her forever-memory. Analyzed the spontaneity out of it. She kept thinking maybe she had missed something - maybe something that would help her understand - but she couldn’t pinpoint what it was she didn’t understand, let alone what caused it.

Each recital confounded her further, made it that much harder to stomach herself and her actions. Sure, she was cornered in a dingy park a block away from her home, but she’d turned around and did the same…

And Sunset enjoyed it. Didn’t she? She wasn’t sure now. Maybe I am sick. What kind of creature am I?

Lying half-asleep on the couch, Sunset dreamed of the body she was born into.

It transmogrified into a gaunt form whose coat had the color of blood and the wings of a bat. Adorning her chest was a collar with a sparkling dark red jewel. The horn she had sorely missed for quite some time tapered to a finer point. Her tail extended as well. Tufts on her ears created minor secondary peaks but otherwise appeared to be frayed and torn.

Her eyes blackened and her hooves shone a rigid blackness. The colors of her cutie mark inverted; honestly, she never paid much attention to its orientation, but the sudden appearance of the bright red rays inching to her ribs perturbed her.

Her new webbed appendages flapped, revealing that they were backed in a thick, black hide and tipped with sharp, silver claws. Unnaturally-pointed canines proved to be true fangs as her mouth opened. She screamed, a small ball of fire materialized in place of her voice. The gem at her throat blazed.

The sphere grew. There was no aura indicative of any magical activity. Then her incisors snapped together, releasing the massive fireball.

Mentally blinking, she conjured an image of Adagio Dazzle. Not a ponied-up form, not the siren apparition, not even the old sketch Twilight Sparkle had brought with her from Equestria.

Unassuming, innocuous, human girl Adagio. And she stood in the way.

Bolting upright, Sunset rejected the rest of her caffeine.

Adagio picked another berry off her muffin. It joined a growing pile of purple mush.

“I don’t see why you bother if you’re just gonna rip ‘em apart.” Aria stepped into view and sat at the dining table where Adagio had been nursing a headache with a demitasse of black coffee.

“Yeah, well I don’t see why they’re not made with real blueberries.” She cast a look out the window in the direction of a fruit bearing hill.

Aria smacked her forehead with an open palm. “Are you going senile? They’re outta season. There aren’t any left to just pick off some bush.”

Adagio scowled, feeling foolish at the oversight. “Seems like a waste is all.” When the woman raised her hands in mock surrender, Adagio glanced at the clock and said, “Shouldn’t you be in class?”

This drew a warm chuckle of surprise. “Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle.” She reached forward without warning and placed her hands on Adagio’s, slowly extricating the cup from her grasp.

Even with her hands wrapped around the hot ceramic, they felt so cold compared to Aria’s. “You fishface, get your own.”

“I did.” She sipped smugly. “I took yours.”

The ex-lead siren rolled her eyes, “Tell me you’re not skipping school just to bother me.”

“But Adagio,” the pigtailed girl batted her eyes coquettishly, “how can I lie to you?”

“Then at least stop hitting on me.” She shuddered, "You know it doesn’t work.”

“Sure it does.” Aria wiggled her shoulders like a lioness about to pounce. Leaning across the table, she whispered, “It makes you uncomfortable.”

Adagio spread her palm on Aria’s face, firmly pushing her aggressor back into the chair. “Whatever. Where’s Stimpy?”

“She got on the right bus to school, but…” she trailed off with a shrug. “I would’ve taken her if I had a car.”

“‘Taken her’?” Her eyebrows twitched. “So you weren’t going to stay even after driving there.”

Aria stood up, still sipping the beverage, and walked to the island. She did not look back as she spoke. “Excellent deduction. Good to know your new sleep schedule hasn’t taken a toll on your rationality.”

Adagio chased her mug, retrieving it from her irritating roommate. Empty. She very briefly entertained the idea of bludgeoning the cause of said emptiness until said mug shattered. Briefly.

She really liked that mug.

Pausing at the sink to massage her temples, a short glance to Aria’s smirk and she deigned not to answer. Sighing, she cleaned the dishes and left.

Or she tried to.

Aria would have none of it, jerking her back by the shoulder.

Her eyes fluttered up with indignation as the other girl frisked her. “Can I help you?” No answer. “Ar- Ari.” She was not getting through. “Aria Blaze!”

“Come on, let’s get lunch.” Aria walked away holding a set of keys that did not belong to her.

“Get back here.” Adagio didn’t want to go out. She especially did not want a chaperone if and when she did. “Didn’t you just see me eating?!”

The woman stopped. Adagio swore she took a step back with the intent of causing a collision. Aria grinned, reaching down to help her fallen comrade. She did that on purpose. Adagio swiped the hand away.

“So what? That's a breakfast.” Aria jingled the keys at her teasingly. “I’m talkin’ about lunch.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Adagio was loath to admit it, but Aria was a very good driver. She used her mirrors and her turn indicators, looked before changing lanes, and remained generally aware of her surroundings.

These were, of course, very basic skills and habits, but it made her feel safe. And more recently, envious.

While Adagio could handle her sedan with confidence and proficiency, she found herself lacking awareness. Thoughts would cloud her vision, the miles blend together. Caught up in something or other, she might miss a turn or lose track of where she was altogether.

An aggressive horn made her jump in her seat. Her friend laughed at her frown.

In confusion, she noted the green light in front of them; no wonder they were honked at. Mouth open, her question was overshadowed by a small fleet of emergency vehicles, each blaring its own discordant sound as they crossed their path. Then Aria just drove on like nothing happened.

Considering all the time they’ve spent together, that’s what impressed Adagio the most. The surly girl didn’t spitefully sit at the light until it turned yellow to block the jerk behind them. Even she was tempted to throw an inappropriate hand gesture out the window.

No: impulsive, hot-blooded, angry Aria was a level-headed motorist. She achieved nirvana behind the wheel. As long as she stayed seated, nothing could break her placid state. She might get out of the car and throw the biggest bitch-fit of the century, but as long as she was in the driver’s seat, all was calm.

They pulled into a spot at a small, archetypal diner by the edge of town when Adagio realized she’d lost focus for a large portion of the drive.

“Man, what a dick!” Aria unbuckled her seatbelt without waiting for an answer. When Adagio joined her in the near-winter chill, she continued to rant about ‘the asshole in the shitty pickup’. “If I didn’t already have plans, I’d say we should’ve followed them to wherever and egged the shit out of ‘em.”

Adagio shook her head. There were no eggs, but she didn’t care to ask where they would find some. “What is the plan anyhow?”

“French toast!” The enthusiasm felt out of character for the sullenest siren, and had she not been staring, she’d’ve attributed the words to Sonata.

Then the elder girl scowled, “I thought we weren’t getting breakfast!”

“You can have whatever you want, but I wanted french toast” - the brat held the door open for her and she entered with a slight huff - “and we’re out of ingredients.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sometimes talking to Aria is like pulling teeth. She demands an equivalent exchange of any piece of information, which is irritating when she wants to talk about something personal to her. On the other side, she’s willing to soak up dramatic monologues without any voluntary feedback.

Adagio held no information she was inclined to barter so, delicious BLT aside, lunch was a bust.

What she managed to pry from the uncooperative girl pretty much amounted to Aria making friends. Reflecting on countless years as a steadfast trio, Adagio couldn’t help but wonder if this was maybe for the better.

In all likelihood, the young-looking girl was concerned. Ari was known to keep secrets for very long stretches of time. Not unlike a cat, she was perfectly content to walk away from a conversation as it happened. Adagio highly doubted that reserved Aria was so overcome with the burning desire to talk about her potential new companions she would go through the trouble of requesting an audience two days in a row.

Maybe Adagio was projecting and unconsciously wanted to be asked about her own recent activities. Maybe all she wanted to feel like somebody cared.

Maybes had no place in her life. To remove the temptation of dwelling on them, she took Aria to the mall to wait for semi-secret friends and returned to the kitchen to sit alone with her mug. Only then did she note with mild astonishment that it was nearly 2 o’clock.

School was almost out for the day. The mere fact caused her brow to furrow. For the second time that day an incredible loneliness washed over her, in spite of her voluntary distance from her housemates. This time, however, she was in no position to wash away the shame it brought.

Her fingertips drummed against the glossy surface of the table.

Maybe she’d reach out to a real high school-aged girl.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sunset answered after the first ring. Adagio was certain the girl either didn’t know or didn’t care who she was speaking to, sounding terse in a husky, hushed voice. She said she would call back after class was dismissed and that was good enough.

True to her word, Sunset returned the call within the hour. “I was in Lit, what’s up?”

The casualness of the opening line caught Adagio off-guard. For someone who’d only been greeted by the most obsequious of groveling suitors, it simultaneously, alternately, distressed and warmed her. Emboldened by the absence of malice, she felt safe to ask for another meeting.

Her face broke into a smile at Sunset’s calm, ready acceptance. Flush with excitement, she quickly thought of where to meet her latest thrill.

“Dazzle, you still there?”

“Yeah,” her mind still drawing blanks, “I’ll meet you around the back of school in fifteen minutes, alright?”

Eyes closing of their own accord at the girl’s assent, she bought time for her racked brain. Shit, she realized, I have to go to Canterlot High.

As she got back in the car, she vainly considered dawdling until Sunset was the only one left on campus. She belatedly decided against this tactic since her body drove on, heedless of her brain’s procrastination.

Stopping at the sidewalk with a sigh, she spotted the target facing in the wrong direction. In the admittedly short time she’d known the multi-faceted woman, pants were never part of Sunset Shimmer’s attire. Indeed, she wore a completely different outfit from before. Adagio recognized the sun pattern etched into her bookbag and dialed her number.

“Say your goodbyes and turn around slowly.”

She cut the line and watched over her shoulder. The young woman waved to a departing group of students, several of whom were Rainbooms. And one was Sonata.

Her lungs refused to fill with air until she looked away with a shake of her head. Her hands were pale on the steering wheel.

A soft knock on the window startled her. She unlocked the door without a glance.

“Nice ride,” Sunset whistled, sliding into the passenger seat. “I didn’t think you’d have a car.”

“Hmm,” Adagio didn’t know how to reply. “Where did you want to go?”

“Oh, well…” The girl cocked her head to the side, evidently surprised by the question. “I usually go to Downtown Library around this time,” she coughed, “but you already know that, don’t you?”

Adagio kept quiet.

“Then we’re free to go anywhere you want.” Sunset perked up a bit in her seat, “Except the arcade - I told everybody I wasn’t going so I can’t go now.”

With me, Adagio finished for her. “That won’t be a problem.”

She preferred card games and jigsaw puzzles anyhow.

Sunset’s stomach lightened the mood in a big way and gave Adagio a direction. She shook off the bitterness. “Hungry?”

She had seen the other girl blush several times now, but she found each one more endearing than the last. Sunset mumbled something or other that pared down to ‘I didn’t eat much at lunch. I wasn’t hungry then.’

She chuckled, a destination in mind.

Though the silence wasn’t nearly as awkward as other silences they’d shared before, the girl broke it quickly.

“Is this legal? Like, do you have a license and all that?”

Adagio grinned wryly, extracting her pocketbook to toss at the skeptical woman. Sunset didn’t move, so she prompted, “Open it, it’s not dangerous.”

“Wow, it looks real.” She pulled the card from its protective sleeve and flexed it in examination.

“That’s because it is.” Adagio waved her hand to stall the process. “Stop it.”

Sunset’s marveling gave Adagio a fleeting sense of pride. “Damn, I need to get me one of these.”

“You can’t drive?” she laughed in surprise.

“Drive?” Sunset echoed incredulously, “I barely exist.”

In confusion Adagio looked at the girl a little too long, clipping the roundabout as she decelerated hastily.

Sunset grabbed what Sonata had dubbed the ‘oh shit! bar’ and did not let go. It was adorable.

Adagio pursed her lips to conceal a smile. “What do you mean?”

The frazzled girl cleared her throat, “Oh... since I came from Equestria I didn’t have any form of identification. I filled out the paperwork properly so CHS let it pass. It must’ve looked normal since there wasn’t a follow-up or anything.

“After the dance I decided to stay. Everyone knew about my otherworldliness already, so there wasn’t a point in keeping up appearances. I asked the princ- the principals to help me apply for documentation and all that crap.”

The girl was full of surprises. “How’s it feel to be a part of the system?”

“I don’t know about your species and cutie marks, but kind of like that.” Not looking away from the road, Adagio waved her hand in a circle for further explanation. Sunset huffed an uncertain breath, “Well… I mean it’s like… being stamped with something that doesn’t have to mean anything - to you or to anyone else - but you’d feel exposed and naked if someone took it away from you.

“Damn, I don’t know how much you know about cutie marks.” Sunset was openly rambling now, “It’s like a butt tattoo that magically manifests itself when somepony realizes what they’re supposed to do in life.”

“I know what a cutie mark is.” Adagio felt she was going to laugh herself sick. That had been the best explanation ever. Finally she sighed. “‘Somepony’ - if that isn’t a word I never thought I’d hear again.”

Sunset tittered, “I did say ‘somepony’ didn’t I?”

Adagio put the car in park. “Yup, but lucky for you, we’re here.”

“Okay, but where’s here?”

Sunset Shimmer looked good in her car. The mesh seat covers - accented candy red - received the lion’s share of the credit. What had previously been a rash decision on her part to shut Aria and Sonata up was now a good accessory to the girl sitting shotgun.

Adagio wet her bottom lip, then blinked away an unseemly impulse. “Lunch.”

Sunset had never been to the isolated café, relying on the waitress’ recommendation of the club sandwich to be a good one. Adagio ordered strawberry-topped dessert crepes.

Passing the menu along, she gave a crooked smile, “I thought you said we’d have lunch.”

The other girl returned the lazy grin. “I thought you’d be a vegetarian.”

“I was.” Adagio tilted her head inquisitively, prompting for more. She grimaced. “I didn’t consider eating meat when I came here. The first few times were by accident.” She paused to let herself be laughed at but it never came. Sunset continued, “Animal flesh isn’t served in pony communities - there are specialty restaurants in larger cities that cater to other, carnivorous species but they’re not usually run by equids. I didn’t realize my new anatomy would be so fundamentally different. By then it was too late, I had to pass in this world if I wanted to succeed.”

“How was it,” Adagio asked, eyes soft with patient understanding, “when you realized?”

How was it. She sipped her water, trying to formulate a cohesive answer. One that doesn’t make me sound utterly reprehensible.

“Delicious,” she admitted finally. “A lot of my old diet tasted terrible and I was so hungry. Then I was disgusted with myself, for not feeling sick or finding it more repulsive. This body accepted it like any hayburger or hawksbit salad, but those aren’t things I can eat anymore.”

Now Adagio scoffed, “Why not be a vegetarian then? It’s not that they don’t exist here.”

Sunset choked back a laugh, “What’s the point after coming to terms with it? And I don’t know if you noticed, but they’re not exactly a popular group.”

The server returned with their food and their immediate conversation was suspended. The sandwich looked tasty enough, and considerably more palatable than the plate of whipped cream the older girl faced. Part of Sunset enviously thought the crepes looked divine, but her stomach turned at the prospect of having any.

Tentatively she lifted the toasted bread and bit into the cool center of meat and vegetables. She could imagine how this was a popular item. She swallowed the mouthful with a small moan.

Embarrassed, she glanced to see if Adagio heard. Damn.

Not only was her brow raised, but it appears as if she’d been watching the whole thing. She held a fork but her plate was undisturbed. “Eat often?”

“Shut up,” Sunset managed lamely after too long of a silence, making the girl across the table laugh with glee. Pointing a pickle spear at her, she demanded, “Tell me about differences you found when you arrived in this world.”

“Aside from the bare skin and the land legs?”

Though it made her feel silly, Sunset nodded enthusiastically. She gave a sheepish quirk of her lips when no further explanation was forthcoming.

At last she shrugged. “I can’t say I had the same problem, merponies are omnivores.”

“There’s gotta be something you don’t feel comfortable eating because of who you used to be.” I can’t be the only one.

“Some cultures eat seahorses.” There was no hesitation; she must’ve had a lot of time to dwell on it. “In the old world - that’s what we call it since our expulsion - there was a neighboring seapony tribe. We were good friends. Seahorses in this world look a lot like miniature seaponies.”

Sunset knew there were aquatic clans of ponies, but lacked practical experience for obvious reasons. Squinting outside at tall, wispy shadows, she wondered if their cultures shared any holidays.

Adagio broke through her musings, holding out a perfect cross-section of her meal and jiggling it slightly at Sunset.

The latter gave in to her curiosity and took the fork.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sunset had sincerely been curious about the backseat; though she rode the city bus on a near-daily basis, cars still made her heart race.

She was interested to know if what they were doing now was legal.

"Roll up the window," she hissed.

"It's humid in here." Adagio was untroubled.

"You're not wearing a shirt!"

Adagio rolled her eyes and sat up on Sunset's lap. "Tell the whole town, why don't you? You should be aware that glass is clear." Mockingly, she pulled down on her bra and released one of the cups’ contents.

Not really… The windows had long since fogged up in the cool evening. It was the brief span of time between the sun’s total descent into the horizon and the streetlights coming to life. Her paranoia about being ditched in the sticks melted away under the torrent of kisses against her collarbone.

Unable to give a witty comeback, Sunset latched her teeth around the other girl's proud nipple. Her lip grazed the areola with a smile when the girl gave a sharp cry.

Sunset pushed up and to the side, dislodging the warm body onto the black and red seat. She climbed onto a surprised Adagio and rasped into her ear, “I think it’s time you take me home.”

It was her turn to gasp when the pinned woman sunk sharp teeth into her neck. Unwilling to have another hickey, she jabbed a thumb into her assailant’s collar and pried them apart.

Adagio yelped, panting, “You’re right, it’s getting late. Let’s get you into bed.”

Author's Note

This is for you. You know who you are.