Like One of Her Romance Novels

by ZOMG

Rating: teen
Tags: Coco Pommel, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance, Rarity
Length: 8176

Coco gets a letter from a secret admirer and an invitation to enjoy a day all about herself for a change.

Coco Pommel liked to think of herself as a responsible, hard working mare. She made sure her pieces were made on time, and each of her clients satisfied to the fullest. But such a busy schedule can wear a mare down after a time. Enough so that she can't even muster the energy to read one of her old romance novels.

Fortunately, there's a mystery mare willing to make her fantasies come to life. All she has to do is clear her schedule and enjoy a day tailor made to her needs.

Preread by Cryosite, Jondor, Monochromatic, and Timaeus.
Artwork by Science Fox.

Published 2017-04-06 04:20:02 UTC
Last updated 2017-04-06 04:20:02 UTC

Chapter 1

Her ankles ached as if she’d just run a marathon. Every step felt like she was wading through molasses. Coco let her head hang low as she walked down the hallway toward her small apartment, her hooves dragging along the soft, creamy brown carpet.

Home. After a long day fixing up old costumes and trying to keep everypony organized, Coco had been ready to make herself a warm pot of tea and lay down on the couch for a couple hours before nodding off to sleep in her twin size bed. Or perhaps she’d forgo the couch and take the pot into her room, and buck her mother’s old “no drinks in bed” rule in the head.

She was a grown mare with her own place, rent, and a career—she could make her own rules, thank you very much!

Coco heaved a tired sigh as she came to a stop before her door—apartment 39—and began searching her saddlebags for her keys. Why did they always find a way to hide themselves when she was most tired? If they weren’t at the bottom of the bag or jabbing her frog, they’d somehow manage to slip into her pocketbook. Or they’d be in some small pocket her hooves couldn’t reach into without emptying her bag and shaking for all it was worth.

Her hoof touched cool metal. Coco gave a tiny smile. “There you are,” she muttered, tugging her keys out of her saddlebag and sliding them into the lock. A night of rest and relaxation before a couple meetings with partners.

Meetings on a Saturday. Coco snorted at the carpet. What sort of sadist came up with such a thing?

The latch clicked open, she placed her keys back in her bag and twisted the handle. Home at last. She pushed the door open and trotted inside, shutting it behind her with a gentle kick as she let her saddlebags drop. “Right,” Coco said. “Tea first. I hope I have enough.”

With a flick of her tail, she made to walk toward the kitchen, but then her hoof came down on something that rustled. Her ears twitched. Coco glanced back at her right hind hoof and lifted her leg. There, laying on her otherwise clean floor, was a letter bearing her name in elegant, flowing cursive. Curious, she bent down to pick it up. A hint of perfume wafted to her nose.

Perfume on an envelope? Coco felt her heart leap. That almost sounded like something out of one of her romance novels! The ones she kept tucked away in her room where visitors wouldn’t see.

Coco brought a corner of the envelope close and sniffed. The sweet scent of lilac teased her nose. A jolt ran through her body. A mare. And a classy one at that. Lilac was a rather expensive fragrance, typically found only in the more high end shops and boutiques in Manehattan and Canterlot.

Who did she know who frequented such places?

Several names came to mind. Coco had plenty of contacts in the fashion and studio industries, mares and stallions alike. A few mares were married, others insisted they were too attached to their work for such things, and then there were the social butterflies—mares like Suri Polimare (her actual personality notwithstanding), Sassy Saddles, and her friend, Rarity.

She bit her lip. Rarity. Now there was a mare of high class, talent, and a decorum. And no doubt a mare who could sweep her lover off her hooves.

For a split second, Coco dared to dream it was so. She shook her head, mindful not to send her flower mane clip whipping across the room, and trotted into the kitchen. No amount of self-control could keep the excitement out of her steps or the little swish from her tail.

She set the letter down on the two-seater table, giving it a fleeting glance before she forced herself to turn away and walk over to the counter. Tea first. Then reading Rarity’s letter—well, the letter she hoped was from Rarity.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she filled her metal teapot with water and set it on the stove. Mother always warned her about getting her hopes up that some mare would come along like one of her stories. It would only end in heartbreak and disappointment, she always said. And thus why said novels were tucked away in Coco’s bedroom.

While the tea began to boil, Coco procured a teabag from the ceramic blue jar to the stove’s left, then pulled her favorite cup from the cabinet. She made to turn away, but stopped short. Her eyes flitted to the letter again.

Her letter opener was in her home office. But she was far too tired to go walking around. A butter knife would do the job just fine. Coco opened another drawer and retrieved one. Then, carefully balancing it all in one hoof, she walked over to the table and sat down in her polished wooden chair. She set her cup and teabag aside for the moment, and deftly sliced the envelope open. The scent of lilac brought a warm smile to her face.

Lovely.

She slid the folded paper out from within the envelope and spread it out on the table. The same elegant cursive hoof writing stared back at her, written in ink. There were no signs of hoof smudges typical of earth pony or pegasus writing, nor a single drop of ink out of place.

Definitely a unicorn. Well, most likely.

Hopefully.

My dear Coco Pommel,

I am hopeful this note hasn’t caught you at a bad time. I’m quite certain you must be positively exhausted after a long week of preparation for your upcoming community theatre project. A most worthy venture, I must say. You’ve come quite a long way from your days as Suri’s understudy.

Of course, you and I both know the value of a good day’s rest in the midst of the hustle and bustle our work brings. A day where a mare can allow herself a little self-indulgence, some pampering, and, if one has the right company, a quiet dinner.

It may be bold, but I like to think myself a mare of action. I would like to invite you to accompany me to a lovely little restaurant in Little Neighpon called the Winter Moon—it’s not too extravagant, but certainly not a hole in the wall either. I have it on good authority it’s a popular date spot.

In addition, I would advise you to clear your schedule. I’ve taken the liberty of providing you an alternative itinerary which I think you’ll find most enjoyable.

I do hope you’ll accept my offer, dear. You deserve a nice, restful day, and I would like to share it with you.

Sincerely,

An Admirer

An imprint of a pair of scarlet lips had been left just below the message. A kiss.

Coco brought a hoof to her mouth. An anonymous message inviting her to a date? Her! And with a kiss to seal it. She gave way to temptation and picked up the letter again, sniffing curiously.

Lilacs flooded her senses, along with something else. A pony’s coat. The scent of the mare who’d written her out of the blue, sent her a sealed kiss, and slipped it under her door like secret lovers in the night. Her heart hammered away within her chest, racing a mile a minute. A faint whistling made her ears twitch, but she ignored it.

In that moment, the letter was all that mattered.

Two sides waged a war within her. A pony, a tiny facsimile of Coco herself, with her mane done up in a neat, short cut, a long strand of measuring tape hanging around her neck along with her collar and tie sprang forth. The professional.

Professional Coco darted forward and latched on. She clung to her hind leg and dug in her hooves, screaming at the top of her lungs about meetings and obligations. ”No, no, no!” she shrieked, pulling for all she was worth. ”These meetings are important! These clients are important! You can’t take a day off out of the blue! Not with a week left before opening night!”

But then another pony came into view. This Coco stood with a more relaxed posture and wore her necktie a little more loosely. Her ears stood up attentively, her cheeks were dusted a light pink, and a wobbly smile spread across her face. She bit her lip, as if she were trying to hold back a fit of giggles. In her hooves, there was a book with two ponies necking beneath the imprint of a heart on the cover.

Romantic Coco set her book down and trotted over, with an excited smile spread across her face, and whispered a dream of a fanciful evening that began with dinner and ended with Coco wrapped in a lover’s warm embrace. ”Just think, it could all be yours,” she crooned, her voice as sweet as honey. ”All those fantasies and dreams about a lover who’ll come in and sweep you right off your hard-working hooves, and give you all the attention and affection you deserve. All you have to do is take a personal day. And why not? Lace Trim took one at the last second. In fact, that’s why the meeting got moved to Saturday to begin with. She hardly has room to talk, does she?

Coco happily bucked Professional Coco into a closet and locked her away for safekeeping. She worked hard and did right by her clients, she deserved a day of relaxation every now and again. Especially since this project had her galloping at full speed to keep up.

A day of relaxation, dinner, and the chance to cap it off in a beautiful mare’s hooves, though … That was just ideal.

Especially if it so happened to be one mare in particular.

”Good mare!” Romantic Coco cheered, taking a seat on Coco’s right shoulder with a merry swish of her tail. She laid on her stomach and propped her chin on her hooves. ”So, we have a schedule to rearrange! Dinner with the mystery mare! Oooh! This is so exciting!”

“Lace Trim and Bobby Pin won’t be happy that I cancel at the last minute,” she muttered to her empty kitchen, “but they’ll understand as long as I deliver their costumes on time.” Thinking on it a moment, she added, “And perhaps with a bit of a personal touch to bring out Lace’s mane.”

The whistling grew louder, sharper. Coco winced and pinned her ears back, glancing over at the stove. Her mouth dropped open in muted horror as she saw the hot, boiling water flowing from the lid and spout. With a strangled cry, she leapt out of her seat and dashed over, snatching a towel off the rack to protect her hoof as she tried to save her stove.

Chapter 2

A second letter awaited Coco when she padded out of her bedroom for her morning tea.

She stopped in the middle of her sitting room, clad in her fuzzy, cream robe with blue trim. Blinking in confusion, she stared at the slender envelop resting on the carpet before her door. Just like the one from the day before.

Her ears perked up as the proverbial lightning bolt hit, jolting away any remnants of sleep. Coco hurried forward, pausing to mutter a curse when she banged her knee against the edge of the coffee table. Stupid thing was always getting in her way at the worst times.

Coco snatched the letter off the floor and gave it a sniff. Lilacs, the same as before. Her heart did a backflip. She trotted into the kitchen, merrily swishing her tail as she reached into the drawer for a butter knife, sliced the envelope open, and retrieved the latest letter.

My dear Coco Pommel,

I hope you had a restful night’s sleep and that the morning finds you well. While today is indeed all about your enjoyment, I daresay my itinerary may have you moving around quite a bit. I do apologize in advance for packing your schedule, but I think you’ll find it all quite refreshing.

What’s more, it may give you a little time to reflect and see if you can figure out who I am. An element of mystery is a delightful way to spice things up in the best romance stories, wouldn’t you agree? In any case, on to business. Or, rather, on to leisure, as it were. Everything is, of course, already arranged with a few names I believe you’re quite familiar with.

At ten-thirty, you have a spa appointment at the Blue Pearl. I’ve arranged for you to receive the works: a hooficure with Tender Touch, a mud bath, a dip in the mineral water, access to the steam room, and, of course, a full massage. I have it on good authority that the mares at Blue Pearl pride themselves in ensuring that everypony who comes into their spa leaves feeling like a whole new pony.

The session should end in time for you to enjoy a nice, quiet lunch at noon. There’s a lovely little Mexicolt restaurant a block north from the Blue Pearl. I believe it’s called El Madre del Sol. I’ve gone ahead and reserved a table for you, and instructed them to forward me the bill.

Moving right along, I’ve arranged for you to have your mane washed and cut at two. There’s a wonderful hair salon on the corner of Sixth and Mane that works magic with a brush and a good pair of clippers.

Speaking of which, our reservation is set for six-thirty. I do hope you enjoy Neighponese food. If not, well, we can always change venues once we meet up.

Enjoy your day, my dear. And please don’t fret the cost. It’s my treat.

Sincerely,

An Admirer

An imprint of scarlet lips had been left beneath the message again. Another sealed kiss. And from a pony who liked the same sort of romance stories Coco did, if that bit about mystery was any indication.

Coco felt she could’ve done backflips. The hoof which held the letter trembled, she let a goofy smile spread across her face as she brought the letter close and sniffed.

Lilacs and pony coat. But who was it?

A mystery she’d have to solve for herself. She let her gaze flit to the small clock mounted above her reading cushion. Seven-thirty in the morning. That left her plenty of time to shower, eat breakfast, and a quick chat with Lace Trim and Bobby Pin before heading over to to spa.

Perfect. Coco clutched the letter to her chest. Today promised to be quite a delight.

After she took care of that little piece of business with Lace and Bobby Pin.

“What do you mean you have to cancel?” Lace Trim goggled, her ears pinned back and those eggshell white cheeks flushed a deep, angry red. Her creamy mane seemed to bristle as though live with electricity. “We had this meeting planned for two weeks and there’s already been a reschedule!”

The old Coco would’ve backed away and looked down at her hooves, afraid to talk back for fear of losing her job. But no more. She was her own boss these days. There was no designer in Manehattan willing to put up with Lace Trim’s attitude to begin with, let alone her requests.

Or her habit of rescheduling at the last minute. A fact Coco was about to throw back in her face. Well, maybe not. Only if she had to.

Coco took a deep breath. “We rescheduled last time because you weren’t feeling up to it,” she said.

Lace Trim sucked in her lips. “I—I was under a lot of stress at the time! I needed a day to recoup, and—”

Making excuses and trying to turn things around, all to avoid fault or guilt. So much like Suri. “So I heard. After I rearranged my entire day plan to accommodate you and Bobby Pin. And I had to hear about it from Bobby Pin when I arrived at your office, rather than you telling me in advance yourself.”

It was the right button to press. Lace looked down and away, sheepishly rubbing a hoof against her shin.

Bobby Pin, a mare of peach coat and dusty blue mane, took it as cue to step forward and offer her piece. “I fully understand feeling as though you need to step away, and I do appreciate you approaching us in person rather than the, ah … less than agreeable manner you were informed,” she said diplomatically, pausing to adjust her square rimmed glasses. Her face was schooled into a small frown and eyes shining with rapt attention. The very picture of a mare about her business. “But this comes at a rather crucial time, don’t you think? We need those costumes for rehearsal—next Friday is the absolute latest.”

Coco nodded once. “And they’ll be done by Friday. You’ve seen the finished products hanging on the rack in the theater, and I’m just putting the finishing touches on yours, Trim,” she said with a nod to the other mare. “It’ll be finished by Wednesday. Plenty of time for rehearsal.”

Lace Trim let out a low note of discontent as she pawed at the ground. “I’d hoped to see it beforehoof,” she muttered. “In case changes needed to be made.”

Changes? This late in the project? A mere week before rehearsal?

It took every fiber of her self-control not to lose her temper. If not for her want to maintain her reputation, Coco would so love to educate the mare on how long assembling such a piece actually took!

Instead, she simply pasted a smile upon her face. “If you’d like to come by Monday morning, I’d be happy to let you look it over. But it’ll have to be early, or I really won’t be able to do much for you. And, at this point, with the costume almost done, any considerable change is going to mean I won’t finish until opening night. Assuming all goes according to plan.”

With another discontented grumble, Lace Trim nodded stiffly. The battle, at last, had been conceded. The rest of the day belonged to Coco and her mystery mare.

A quick glance to the office clock nearly made Coco’s heart skip a beat. Ten? Where had the time gone?

She let out a squeak and bid her farewells in a rush, then dashed out the door and down the sidewalk, cursing her inattentiveness. As her hooves pounded against the concrete and she weaved through the crowd, stumbling and jostling into bystanders and vendors alike, Coco did a bit of quick figuring in her head.

Twelve blocks. The Blue Pearl was twelve blocks away.

Well, at least she would get her Saturday exercise in.

Coco burst through the front door so fast she almost slipped on the rug. “I’m here!” she said, gasping for breath as she approached the desk. “I’m not late, am I?”

A young mare wearing a teal smock over her sherbet orange coat blinked a few times, an amused smile played upon her lips. “Well after that entrance, I certainly hope not!” Lighting up her horn, she levitated a clipboard off a wall-mount and searched the list. “Could I get your name, miss?”

“Coco Pommel.”

The mare’s ears flicked, she glanced up at the clock, giggling. “Made it with a minute to spare!” She rose from her seat and trotted around the counter. “My name is Sweet Caress. I normally handle the massage therapy, and sometimes receptionist duties when ours is running an errand.” Pausing a moment, Sweet Caress checked the appointment list again. “Ah, I see you’re scheduled for the full treatment. Well, well, somepony really set you up!”

“Yes. She did.” Coco rubbed her shin. “I don’t suppose you could tell me who I have to thank for all this? I seem to have a mystery friend who … likes surprises.”

Sweet Caress shook her head. “I’m afraid your guess is as good as mine. Our receptionist just wrote down ‘Coat and Hat Mare’ as the appointment setter.” Furrowing her brows, she aimed a glare at the name. “I may have to have a word with her about that, actually.”

A frown tugged at Coco’s lips. Her benefactor was eager to keep up the mystery after all. Still, that didn’t mean she couldn’t look for clues. “Did she mention anything about appearance? Coat or tail color?”

Another negative shake. “Sorry. That’s all I have.” Sweet Caress fixed a smile on her face. “But, as you said, your friend seems to like surprising you, so maybe this is all part of some big thing?”

Coco gave an amused snort. “Oh,” she said, “you have no idea. My mystery mare has planned out my day from start to finish.”

“Really?”

“Yes. She’s even planned a dinner date for us.”

“Well, then,” Sweet Caress said brightly, “let’s get a move on! No sense dawdling if there’s a schedule to keep!” Floating the clipboard over to reset on its hook, she gestured for Coco to follow her through a set of white double doors. “If you’ll follow me back this way, we can begin. What would you like to start with?”

“I’ve died,” Coco moaned. A dopey smile spread across her face as she lay on the massage table, lost to the gentle touch of Sweet Caress’s hooves. “I’ve died and gone to the Plains in the Great Beyond.”

Sweet Caress gave a bell like laugh that made Coco’s ear flick. “I should hope not,” the mare teased, “or I’ll have to explain to the Manehattan Police Department why I’m trying to bury a pony who died on my massage table in the park.”

Snorting in amusement, Coco nuzzled her cheek against the soft cushion. Whomever her mystery mare, this admirer, turned out to be, she was absolutely right—this was otherworldly. A wondrous experience that seemed to coax every last bit of stress, anxiety, ache, and pain from Coco’s beleaguered body like a janitor strip cleaning a hospital floor and reapplying the coatings.

From the bottom up, she’d been torn down and rebuilt. A brand new mare free of care. If only she could find some way to feel this amazing every day.

Perhaps, she mused, if my mysterious mare is inclined to stick around for a while. Though, depending on who it was, that might be a bit difficult. Coco couldn’t quite be sure, but she was leaning toward those last three names on her list.

She felt no shame in hoping with all her heart it wasn’t Suri. Dear Celestia, that would be awkward. And as nice as Sassy Saddles had been, they only knew one another through their mutual association with Rarity’s Canterlot and Manehattan boutiques. Not to say anything bad about her, but … well, there was such a thing as too thin in Coco’s opinion. Slim or svelte was fine, but Coco preferred her mares not to look like they’d just gone on a fast. A mare who cared for her body and maintained a more natural, pony feel to her curves.

A mare exactly like Rarity, for instance.

As Sweet Caress’s hooves pressed and rolled along her left thigh, Coco let her mind wander. Rarity had always been generous with her time and assistance whenever their paths crossed, especially that near fumble with the community theater.

Dear Celestia, that would’ve been such a disaster if not for Rarity and her friend showing up. How long had it even been since then? She could hardly count the Manehattan boutique’s opening since she’d been indisposed at the time.

Stupid hay fever ruining her plans.

Still, meeting Rarity put a smile on her face. Whether it was the initial lunch meetings where they discussed working together, scrambling to put a community theater on, or that last fashion competition she worked under Suri Polomare, Rarity could brighten her day like no other.

I’m getting my hopes up, she thought with a sigh as she felt Sweet Caress’s hooves leave her. Mom would scold me something fierce for even going along with this, and she’d be waiting at home, ready to tell me how she knew things would fall apart, and how I should’ve kept my appointments rather than cancel for some flight of fancy.

Of course, her mother held some rather negative feelings about relationships after divorcing her father, so there was just a bit of bias in her sentiment. Coco was happy—well, not really happy—to tune out whenever she started in on her spiel.

“All done!” Sweet Caress chimed. “How are you feeling, Miss Pommel?”

Coco tilted her head just enough that she could peer at the mare through a single bleary eye. “If this mystery mare doesn’t turn out to be the mare I’m hoping she is, can I come back and marry you?” she asked with utmost severity.

To her credit, Sweet Caress laughed. “I’m afraid my husband might be a little perturbed, unless you’re looking to join a group.” She cast a wink. “We’d have to ask him, though. And he’s one who likes the traditional courtship time length, so marriage would be a ways off.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t care for stallions that way, so I’ll pass.” Coco sighed as she rolled off the massage table, landing nimbly on her hooves. By Celestia’s crown! She didn’t feel so much as an ache on the landing! “Tell him I said he’s a lucky stallion and if tonight doesn’t work out, I hate him forever.”

“I’m sure he’ll enjoy that.”

Rolling her shoulders a couple times, Coco gave her tail a happy swish. So far, so good. Cancelling that meeting was working out quite nicely for her. “So, how much do I owe you for all this?”

“Nothing.”

Coco turned so fast her neck muscles strained. “Excuse me?” she asked.

Sweet Caress shook her head. “Your mystery mare paid in advance. With gratuity and a note that she’d leave more if you were sufficiently satisfied.” She shrugged. “It’s not my place to say, but I think you might be the lucky one, Miss Pommel. Somepony likes you well enough to spend quite a lot of bits.”

Was that a string quartet playing? Coco could’ve almost sworn this was the part of the play they’d start up. She blinked a few times. “Call me Coco. And I’ll let her know that I’m more than sufficiently satisfied.”

Chapter 3

Coco’s mystery mare had gone all out to earn all the brownie points she could, Rarity or not.

The mares at the mane salon said much the same thing as Sweet Caress—a mare wearing a brown overcoat and hat came in, left no name, made an appointment in Coco’s name, paid with gratuity in advance, and promised more if Coco was sufficiently satisfied. But with a few slight differences.

“She sounded a bit posh,” one of them said. “Not quite deep Canterlottan, but definitely high class. She mentioned a couple things about the décor, actually.”

Another had chimed in, “I got a look at her mane and tail as she left. It was a lovely shade of purple, like Princess Celestia’s royal banners! Oh, and those curls!” She stamped a hoof. “If she hadn’t been in such a hurry to leave, I’d have loved to ask how she kept them so well! There wasn’t a hair out of place!”

“But what about her coat?” the first gushed. “Have you ever seen such flawless color? As white as first snowfall!”

At the time, Coco went through a mental checklist. Most of the mares she knew didn’t sound posh, so she could strike their names from the list. Thankfully, Suri’s name was among them—she sounded more valley mare than posh. And she’d sooner talk up how she was going to wow somepony than pause to comment on somepony else’s décor. Or hard work in general.

Actually, she’d probably go on about how brilliant she was for choosing the salon. Maybe Coco wasn’t quite over her time as Suri’s understudy.

Who could blame her? The mare was a horrid pony.

She put that to the side in favor of looking herself over in the mirror. Her mane was cut short and washed with such attention and care it felt like she were running her hoof through silk as she fastened her flower clip. A small smile played upon her lips. Her candidate list had narrowed considerably. There was but one name remaining.

It was either her, or a pony of impressive coincidence. Coco could only shake her head, chuckling as she donned her favorite periwinkle collar with white trim and red neck tie. Perhaps her typical look, but her not-so-mysterious mare had said they weren’t out for a formal dinner.

Not to mention she felt like some sort of princess with all the pampering she’d enjoyed. A little familiarity would help bring her down off cloud nine—hopefully.

Probably not, but at least she tried.

Coco took a deep breath and glanced over at the clock resting on her nightstand. Five forty-five. If she remembered correctly, the Winter Moon was about a thirty minute walk through Little Neighpon.

“Better early than late,” she muttered one of her mother’s favorite phrases as she rose from her cushion and strode toward the door.

It was time for her dinner date. And high time she confirmed her suspicions as to her mystery mare’s identity.

She smiled. “Wouldn’t this be the perfect time for that string quartet again?”

Her walk took a bit longer than expected. Coco levied blame on a crowd of rather obnoxious tourists blocking the sidewalks so they could gawk at the bright lights in Time Square and snap poorly shot pictures of a particularly tall building, or a strand of Chineighs paper lanterns of all things!

Perhaps she was being a bit too judgmental. After all, she’d been just as excited when she first moved to Manehattan from Bridleton with her mother.

Still, they were between her and a date with a nice mare, so she felt justified in being a tad huffy. She even dared to push through the crowd and assert herself when a couple of the louder tourists tried to cut her off. A true Manehattanite knew how to put a shoulder into a pony trying to cut across and run them into a marquis.

As soon as she entered the Winter Moon, Coco felt her heart leap. The walk had been worth it.

The lobby had been designed in to look like a show of Neighponese architecture—there were matching torii gates leading to the twin dining rooms with low tables and kneeling cushions, polished wood fashionings that framed Neighponese artwork, pottery, and old weaponry (models, of course), and a tiny bonsai tree. To her delight, there was even a koi pond! With real koi!

One even saw fit to leap out of the water and flick a few droplets of water which landed on her nose. Coco wrinkled her snout, giggling as she brushed the droplets away with the back of her wrist. “Somefish is feeling playful today,” she said, imagining that her new friend was grinning like a naughty foal as he circled back and darted past her once more. “Do you tease all your guests, or am I just special, hmm?”

It darted back, swimming close enough to the surface to flick its tail and send another tiny splash, this time aimed at her legs.

Coco scooted back and fixed him with a stern glare. Though she suspected the smile tugging at her lips ruined the effect. “Rude,” she scolded, earning another splash in her general direction. She clicked her tongue and turned away, sticking her nose in the air. “Well, if that’s the way you’re going to be, then I won’t mention how beautiful your scales are. So there!”

Her aquatic friend seemed to shimmy, which she assumed to be the fish equivalent of blowing a raspberry, then shot off toward a few of his friends, no doubt to share a laugh about the pony he’d splashed.

Before Coco could reply in kind, she heard soft hoofsteps approach.

“Miss Pommel?” a mare asked, her Neighponese accent playing on the last syllable.

Coco turned, her ears stood up. “Er, yes? How did you know it was me?”

A smile spread across the mare’s cherry blossom cheeks. “The lovely mare you’re meeting left a description so we could look out for you. And she did not exaggerate one bit.”

Blinking, Coco tilted her head. “What about?”

“You have a lovely cream coat, and it truly does bring out your mane.” With a slight bow, she stepped to the side and gestured toward the dining room to the right of the koi pond. “If you would please follow me, I will show you to your table.”

It took all her self-control to ignore the burn that arose in her cheeks. Coco forced herself not to look down at her hooves as she asked, “Did my friend leave a name, by chance? She’s been playing a bit of a mystery game with me today,” she added hastily.

“As a matter of fact, yes.” The mare’s eyes danced. “She asked that we refer to her as ‘Coat and Hat Mare,’ and said that you would understand the reference.”

Coco pursed her lips. If her guess was wrong, cross wouldn’t even begin to describe her mood. “I do,” she said with a heavy sigh before striding into the dining room.

She followed her guide as they passed a trio of waitresses, who bowed and muttered soft greetings in their native tongue. Coco smiled and nodded in kind, though her eyes flitted about the room like a falcon, searching for just a glimpse of snow-white coat or a curl of purple mane.

It took but a second for her patience to be rewarded. At long last.

Her heart hammered in her ears and her knees shook like jello in the midst of a stampede of raging buffalo.

There she was, just as Coco dared to dream. Her coat was as pure white as fresh powder snow, her mane and tail a regal purple that put noble houses to shame, and each magnificent curl was so perfect, so pristine stylists across the land would cast their tools aside and weep at their inability to imitate. And those eyes …

Dear Celestia, those eyes.

Coco would wager the pegasi of Commander Hurricane’s legions would’ve happily fought in the Cloudiseum for the honor of their attention, just a moment to gaze into those gleaming sapphire eyes and be lost in their splendor.

Rarity rose from her place at the two-seater table with a smile as brilliant as the full moon. Her eyes shone with mirth as Coco drew near. “Good evening, Coco,” she greeted. “Did you enjoy our game?”

The burn spread across her face. “If it’d been anypony but you,” Coco began, fighting a losing battle against the smile that tugged at her lips, “I would’ve walked out of this restaurant and sworn off dating for a year.”

One perfectly trimmed brow disappeared behind the curl of Rarity’s mane. But her smile didn’t falter. “Well, then,” she said, “I should think myself quite fortunate to be me.” Turning her attention to the hostess, Rarity bowed her head. “Thank you, Hanabi.”

Hanabi returned the bow, though she dipped a bit deeper. “My pleasure. Enjoy your meal, ladies.” She took two steps back, then turned and trotted toward the lobby with a merry swish of her white and pink tinged tail.

Leaving Coco alone with Rarity.

Finally.

“Please,” Rarity said, gesturing to the cushion across from her as she took her seat, “join me. I hope you found your day relaxing.”

Coco slid into the seat, smiling and shifting to get comfortable. “It was … nice. Exactly what I needed, I think. I was tired. Exhausted, really.” She heaved a sigh and shook her head. “This project has really been taking a lot out of me. I’ve been going full tilt for two or three weeks straight!”

Rarity bobbed her head. “Oh, I know that feeling all too well.” Her smile turned sympathetic, she reached across the table to pat Coco’s hoof. “I’ve had my share of deadline grinds. I thought I might lose my mind on several occasions, if I could be perfectly honest for a moment.”

Just a moment? After today, Coco would give her tail for an hour. “That makes sense,” she said with a weak chuckle. “Did you ever imagine these deadlines feeling like the walls were closing in? Or like there’s a runaway taxi headed straight toward you?”

“Never in my wildest dreams. I thought it would all be fun and exciting and carefree!”

“Oh, good! So … I’m not the only one who wishes she could have a talk with her younger self and give guidance?”

“Heavens no! I think all of us have that, but it’s not exactly possible.” A contemplative look flashed across Rarity’s face. She brought a hoof to her chin. “Well, Twilight did mention using a time travel spell once or twice. And so has Starlight …”

Coco’s brows shot up. “I don’t suppose we could—”

Rarity held up a hoof. “I’ve asked them both before. They’ve said no.” She wrinkled her snout and shrugged. “I thought it might be a way to get a leg up on some inspiration, but there is a slight issue with paradoxes and time loops, or so they’ve said. I don’t possess near the magical inclination they do, so I took their word for it.”

“That’s …” Her ears drooped. “Well, that’s unfortunate. In many ways.”

“Indeed. If I’d known then what I know now about the industry, I could’ve tweaked my original style to something more fitting the fashion at the time. But c’est la vie.” Another shrug, Rarity tossed her mane over her shoulder and gave a dazzling smile that could’ve melted the frost covering the Crystal Empire. “It’s nice to dream, I suppose. And it would be just a tad unfair if I were to use my friendship for gain like that.”

Coco blinked. As if she needed any further confirmation that Rarity was worlds apart from Suri, there was another. Fair play in the industry. And not pressing her friends into things they weren’t comfortable doing.

A thought came to her. Rarity had provided her with a day of relaxation, free of charge. Unattached to anything related to her part time work at Rarity’s Manehattan boutique.

Completely out of the blue.“Why’d you do it?” Coco asked slowly.

The smile ran away from Rarity’s face. She blinked twice. “Pardon?”

“Everything today,” Coco continued, “it was all lovely, and relaxing, and I’d been wanting a day like this for so long. I needed a day like this, or I’d have gone stark-raving mad in my apartment one night.”

“We’ve all been there,” Rarity replied.

“Yes, but I’ve been careful not to share it with anypony I work with. And I’m almost certain I’ve never mentioned it in our letters.”

Across the table, Rarity squirmed. For only the second time, she looked away from Coco. Her eyes flitted down to the seam of her cushion as if she hoped to take refuge in a frayed stitch or two. “Mare’s intuition!” she said in a rush.

Coco set her jaw. “Mare’s intuition, my cutie mark,” she retorted, a smile tugging at her lips. Rarity liked to play her little mystery game, but it seemed she didn’t quite like when somepony put her under the microscope. Not directly, at least. Coco placed her hooves on the table and leaned forward. “You’ve played me all day, ‘Coat and Hat Mare,’” she teased. “And I didn’t even know you’d be in town. Don’t you think it’s about time to lay your cards on the table?”

The tiniest of blushes colored Rarity’s cheeks. “I may have come here hoping to surprise you.”

Coco’s ears twitched, she felt the burn return to her cheeks, but she didn’t back down. “W-Well, I am considerably and sufficiently surprised. And satisfied, sufficiently satisfied too,” she added, recalling her discussion with Sweet Caress and the mares at the mane salon. “But if you only came to town yesterday, how would you have known?”

A line of red spread across Rarity’s snout. She sucked in her lips, then mumbled something inaudible.

“What was that?”

“I checked in with a couple of the mares at the boutique after my train arrived,” Rarity confessed. “They said you’d been so busy lately that you were having to scale back your hours a bit, and that you looked exhausted and stressed. And … I felt I was already here to see you, so I could … help.”

Again, her ears twitched. “Here for me?” Coco repeated. “Not here because you heard that I was exhausted or stressed. Here to see me, and then you decided to give me a day of relaxation?” At Rarity’s nod, she felt the burn spread again. She could almost imagine her creamy ears turning a bright pink. She swallowed.

That string quartet could chime in at any old time.

And wasn’t this the part where she, the main character of this ongoing romantic drama, was supposed to have some flight of inspiration to say something perfect for the moment? Where was her inspiration?

Curiously absent when she needed it most. How typical.

Fortunately, Rarity didn’t suffer that same loss. She licked her lips and looked up, her sapphire eyes full of passion. “I wanted to ask you to dinner,” she said softly, “but when I heard how stressed and exhausted you were, I came up with a little surprise to help you unwind so you could enjoy a well-earned day off. And, well—” she coughed, shifting in place “—I will confess that some of my motives were a bit selfish.”

“H-How so?” Coco squeaked.

Rarity took a deep breath and said, “I intended to ask you out on a date, and I hoped letting you relax for a day would help you enjoy yourself a bit more so things could … lead to something lasting.”

Coco would’ve been surprised if her face hadn’t gone as bright red as Hearth’s Warming lights. Her mouth worked wordlessly—now, of all times! Of course words would fail her when faced with a scenario straight out of her romance novels.

Stupid things never came with a how-to guide should it happen in real life.

Rarity’s smile faltered. “Would that be—”

“Yes!” Coco cut her off, her voice barely above a whisper.

Like magic, Rarity’s ears perked up. Her smile returned in force. “I—oh, you’ve no idea how happy that makes me!” She let out a relieved sigh.

How happy it made her? Coco would’ve laughed if she weren’t afraid it might hurt Rarity’s feelings. “That was supposed to be my line,” she said, ducking her head until her chin touched her chest.

Chuckling, Rarity gave a rueful smile. “We’ll just have to share it, then. And hopefully it holds through the night.”

It had indeed held through the night, much to Coco’s undying delight.

Her tail swished gaily, flirting against Rarity’s flank as they walked side by side into her apartment complex. Those gorgeous sapphire eyes flitted to meet hers, a playful smirk played upon Rarity’s lips as she arched a brow in a silent, teasing question.

A deep blush colored Coco’s cheeks, her throat tightened. “Um …” She ducked her head and offered a shy smile.

Rarity brushed her shoulder against Coco’s, her smile spread. A teasing, tickling sensation brushed over her right flank, circling her cutie mark. Rarity’s tail.

Coco was almost certain the string quartet would be reaching the upbeat, lively tune that always came at end of the play. The part where the couple walked back to the mare’s apartment. They’d always stop right outside her door, the mare would fiddle with her keys, a silent cue for her suitor to lean forward and kiss her for the first time.

Could her luck be so good?

She dared to add a little turn to her step, just enough to brush along Rarity from shoulder to waist. A subtle little move that earned a happy hum and another playful flirt against her flank.

Her heart leapt. Tiny Romantic Coco appeared on her left shoulder and gave a cheer, “It just might!”

A small part of her wanted their walk to take forever. If the hallway could seemingly lengthen to endless proportions as it did when she came home from the gym, or running around Manehattan, Coco would almost thank fortune. But then Romantic Coco stopped cheering long enough to rear up, place her tiny hooves on Coco’s cheek and whisper, “If it takes too long, you might not get that kiss! Remember! Fiddle with those keys!”

Fiddle. Right. That was key.

They came to a stop before apartment number 39. Coco bit her lip, willing her tongue not to tie or her throat to tighten when she spoke. “I had a wonderful night—well, day, Rarity,” she said. Butterflies flitted about in her stomach. She shuffled in place and took note of just how soft the carpet felt against her hooves.

Not nearly as soft as Rarity’s coat brushing against hers, nor as pleasant.

She took her keys out, then turned so her back was to the door, facing Rarity. She took note that the mare was taller—not so much that she had to crane her neck, but enough that Rarity angled her head to look down. Romantic Coco took that moment to whisper a few visions of herself wrapped in Rarity’s hooves as the taller mare dotted her cheeks with kisses, helpless at the affectionate onslaught.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Rarity said, pulling her out of the daydream. The dazzling smile was upon her face again. Coco felt warmth fill her chest. “I had a wonderful time with you as well.”

Coco ducked her head and pressed her lips together to hide a smile, but her efforts were in vain.

“Fiddle with those keys!” Romantic Coco reminded.

She did. Turning her keys over in her hoof so they jingled and clinked together, Coco shifted her weight from left to right. She looked up again, gazing into Rarity’s beautiful sapphire eyes. “I’d like to do this again sometime. If you’re okay with it, I mean!” she added in a rush.

Rarity flicked her ears, her eyes flitted down toward Coco’s hoof. Beaming, she took a step close, then leaned down and pressed her lips against Coco’s.

Romantic Coco squealed and danced a jig.

Coco tilted her head back and to the right, letting out a deep, contented sigh through her nose. Her hooves trembled, she reveled in the soft touch as Rarity deepened the kiss. A warm tongue teased and ran along her lip. Coco shuddered before responding in kind.

Rarity gave throaty purr, bringing a hoof up to caress her cheek.

They parted all too soon. Coco gasped for breath, her chest heaving as she stared into Rarity’s eyes and licked her lips to savor the taste.

“I’d be delighted,” Rarity whispered.

And the string quartet kicked into overdrive.

Coco felt a grin spread across her face as she turned and inserted her key into the lock, turning the latch with a twist. An idea leapt to the forefront of her mind, she shushed Romantic Coco and glanced over her shoulder. “Rarity?” she began.

Rarity raised her brows. “Yes, dear?”

“Would you …” She licked her lips. “Would you like to come inside for coffee?”

Snow white ears perked straight up. Rarity’s blinked twice. “Coffee?”

“Or tea. Whichever you like. I have both.” Coco pushed the door open, then took two steps inside. Then, she angled her head to the right and fixed Rarity with a half-lidded stare and a small smile. “If you’d like to take me up on the offer, Coat and Hat Mare.”

That was enough. Rarity regained her wits, returning Coco’s stare with a smoldering gaze. “Well,” she began, stepping inside with Coco and brushing from shoulder to flank against her side, “far be it from me to decline such an enticing invitation from a beautiful mare.”

It took all Coco’s self-control not to loose an exuberant squeal as she kicked the door shut and locked it behind them, but she prevailed.

Okay, so maybe she let a tiny squeal slip. But who cared?

Eat your heart out, mom, she thought. I just lived one of my romantic stories!