Civil Patrol: A Five Score Tale

Chapters

Hah, A New Assignment
Saddle Up, Move Out
It Only Hurt A Little
Case In Point: Family
Equidae, Equus, Equestrian, E...eeeew.
Relaxation. Yeah, not anytime soon.
Just A Few Hoofprints In The Sand
Ever Drop a Baby? Civil Did! Shhhhh!
Now, Death of a Salesman
In For A Pony, In For A Pound...ing. No, not sex.
Sins of a Benefactor
Tests, Trials, Tribulations...
How Was The Academy?
Eh, Not Bad. We Got Shot At.
Party Now, Serious Later
Return to Serious. Sort of.
Into The Mouth Of Madness. Convention Style
A Prologue
Last Stop, Mom, Then I'm Coming Home...

Hah, A New Assignment

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Saddle Up, Move Out

The trip was uneventful...which suited Civil at this point in his life. He stared silently at the moving clouds and landscape as it all went by, thinking about the figures in human and equine history that were exiled or banished, or should have been. Crispy Crits, Devil Advocate, Herman Lang, Heinz Spanknöbel, Charlie Chapman, Dennis Rodman. Mostly Germans and riot inciters. Mostly for good reasons. Well, okay maybe not Rodman. The country needed him for pure entertainment value to distract the masses from more horrific realities. The flight to the town was quite pleasant. Talking to other ponies that were willing to ignore what had happened to him did set him at ease, as well as staved off the inevitable depression that leaving Equestria was sure to put on him. He still wasn't quite sure how to feel about it, which in turn kept Irony debating with herself whether or not to simply tell him it was all B.S.

She had already made up her mind to give him the scroll before he set off on his own, anyway. Again, screw Celestia for doing this. But he didn't have to know just yet.

They circled the township once as Irony and Dust pointed out different developments. Dust had extensive knowledge of the power grid, her owning her own electrical business helped. Irony chimed in about the industrialization of the area. Neighborhoods extended away from the main shopping complex, with more streets and concrete slabs already awaiting houses to be built. The cloud structures above really caught Civil's eye. It had been a while since he had last seen Cloudsdale, so he knew New Beginnings didn't have near as large a floating establishment, yet it was well on its way. Among the many ponies he saw on the ground, he spotted quite a few humans too. So the community was open to the outside world. He still wasn't sure how to feel about that, given the last time he had dealt with humans before his exodus to Equestria at the first gate opening.

They landed at the part of the town where the strip mall was. While Irony only had eyes for the electronics store, Civil was still in awe of the mall. It was a mix of human and pony stores, manned by both. Irony already knew what to purchase. Civil...well, Civil had initially intended to immediately start his trek south towards Texas, living off the land as he went, though that idea wasn't so appealing as he replayed that Pulp Fiction scene with John Travolta arguing with his partner. The word 'bum' rang quite loudly in his head. As Dust's herd dispersed to go window shopping, Civil stepped off the chariot and merely looked around from a sitting position. Irony raised a brow at him.

"Go pick out some saddlebags and a cell phone holder while I check something out." Irony's voice brought Civil back to reality.

"Huh? How? I have no money and-" He was cut off as Irony swatted him lightly upside the head with several 100 dollar bills. He stared at the money in her human hand. "No, I can't take that. I haven't earned it."

She scoffed at him. "Please, it's not charity. And I seriously doubt you didn't earn it, from what I've read. The princess said to take care of you and that's what I'm doing. Or do you propose I disobey orders and leave you stranded?" He stared at Irony's face for a few moments, trying to get some hint of deception or pity. He only saw the stony face of duty and honor there. She raised her brow again and smirked. "Do I pass muster?"

He blinked and looked away, "Sorry, been dealing with too many ponies that want to put a 'happy face' on things that are anything but."

He heard her sigh and her hand settled on his shoulder. "Don't be so glum. At a glance I could tell how damaged Equestria was after two and a half years of rebuilding. The looks on some of the returning humans told it all. If you prefer the stark truth in all its hideous glory, you'll find more than enough of that here on Earth." He glanced up at her. She smiled and continued, "But...a happy face can make the truth much more palatable. Is that not the pony way, to look at the brighter side of things?"

"I thought this world would have changed for the better with ponies integrating themselves into the society."

She shrugged and beckoned him to follow her to the saddle store. "Some ways, yes, it already has. But we've both been human, me twice. We've seen ugliness and beauty. I prefer beauty." Dust strutting in the background made her roll her eyes. She noticed Civil twitch, "Yeah yeah, me being human twice is true. I know the rumors you guards tossed around in the barracks. Still not going to talk about it." He smiled and said nothing. The military did bring a certain level of comfort and order when so much else was in turmoil. His smile dropped when he thought about the military not working out for him, in both worlds now.

When they reached the store front, she tilted her head toward the electronics store. "I'll be back in a little bit, so you have a look around, get equipped for your flight south. I would pick up a pony-friendly phone holder, the latest Samsung Galaxy style, if I were you." The glint in her eye was obvious.

Civil closed his eyes, already knowing what he was about to say would be fruitless. "Irony, ma'am, I don't have a cell phone, and you getting me one seriously puts me into your debt, like, craploads of debt, you know that?"

She grinned and sauntered away, quipping, "Good! You will be the vanguard in my flourishing empire of those who owe me their souls. Your first task to take over the world is to get into that store."

He shook his head and entered. He wondered if she bossed Dust around. Probably not, Dust was a pegasus mare. Then he spotted Dust hopping around Irony, demanding that she be given special favors in Irony's new empire. Nevermind. A chime sounded when the door opened and closed. It was a generic supply store with a mix of everything you'd need in a pinch. Clothes, canned goods, a smattering of office materials. If you were to toss in a section that prescribed drugs, it would be your typical name brand drugstore. Civil knew he wasn't the only one in the store because he could hear someone or somepony rummaging around on the other end, near the employees only door where the overstock was stored. Shrugging, he grabbed a basket with his mouth and proceeded down each aisle. Some energy products like candy, pastry and sodas caught his eye so he tipped them into the basket with his wings. One section held some velcro items. Spotting the Samsung case hanging there, a pang of guilt stole across him, almost making him skip it. Picturing the towering half-human half-pony woman kicking his plot for not following orders forced his hoof. The case went into the basket. A few aisles later and he was standing in awe of all the saddlebags lining the shelves or hanging from hooks. Eyeing the tags marked them as either faux leather products or feral materials. Feral. The companies made it a point to let the consumer know their were intelligent animals about, now. Spotting a set of black leatherbags as dark as his mane and tail, he grabbed them with both hooves and worked them onto his back, not caring what they were made of. In that last couple of years he'd seen worse than to be shaken by seeing products of tanned hide. Hauling of it to the front, Civil got to the front register and looked around.

"Um, hello?"

"Hi, I'm Saddle Soar!" A spry looking pink pegasus hopped out from behind a nearby stack of unitards and generic flight suits designed for pegasi and human alike. She must have been sorting them when he called out. She hopped behind the register.

Civil blinked, at first not sure how to respond. He finally found his voice and started mumbling until his voice got steady again. "Um, I'm sorry to hear that. I would try IcyHot...or ice. Uh, look, I'm just here to get some stuff. I have a long way to go and this is kind of my last stop before flying cross-country." He was still trying to get used to the openness of others, having led a reclusive life as a human. Ponies seemed to be too forward in his estimation. Other ponies, ok? Put away the mirror.

She smirked and giggled, shaking out her mane. "No, silly! Soar, as in to fly! You're a pegasus too! How did you not get that!?"

Civil chewed his lip. He didn't get that because he sucked at social conversation. And social settings. And social studies back in human high school. You know what, just most things social, leave it at that. Now that he recalled, his return to Equestria and the last 2 years wasn't exactly met with open wings from much of his supposed brethren.

A memory bubbled up, just a small one of him putting his armor on while in the castle armory. Several rows of lockers away, he could hear low talking, his name and the word 'coward' distinctly said in the same breath. Yah, social everything sucked. He knew what emotional baggage he had, he wasn't stupid. And yet at every turn there was another reminder of why others felt the way they did about him. Well, maybe not this pegasus. She obviously didn't know him. She also didn't know his flanks were still barren or she would have made the classic double take everypony else did. To most ponies, no mark meant a foal just needed to keep trying. No mark on an adult meant a slew of failed attempts at trying to figure out who he was, failures he'd just as soon not remember. That was until Civil's last self-initiated assignment tracking down the drug contraband. Something had drawn him to that search instead of walking his patrols like he was ordered to do. Oh how he poured his frustration into those storms above the noble's house. Granted, he had NEVER been that good with weather control, except when he was really emotional, then things would be plain messy. According to his own record file he had read back in Canterlot when he was trying to regain his memories, Cloudsdale had declined his work application due to lack of control in that field. Sooo, no marks for weather control, again...and none for busting drug lords. And ALL reasons not to remember.

Saddle rustled her wings slightly. She had caught him staring off while he internally moped. Her movement caused his eyes to glance at her flank, which she ever so slightly angled for him to get a better look. Right there, a saddle with wings on it. Saddle Soar. No shit. He grimaced, "Yeah, um, sorry. I haven't really taken to the pony names paradigm like most of the others have."

She laughed and hopped back behind the register. She put her forelegs up on the countertop and leaned forward, "At least you are honest! You would not believe some of the things humans have said, running the gambit from 'are you hurt?' to various massage pickup lines and sleazy humor. But you know what?" She lowered her voice and glanced around before speaking huskily, "I kind of like it all."

His eyes went wide and he felt warm, especially in the face and- "Okay! Uh, I have these items to purchase." He quickly pushed the basket up onto the countertop, hiding the disappointment on the clerk's muzzle.

She rebounded quickly and smiled, "The customer is always right, even when we don't think so! Oh, I see you got the latest cell phone holder, nice. High octane foodstuffs, see? Pegasus knows he's a pegasus." She winked and he glanced away. She rolled her eyes and continued, "And you got these, ALWAYS handy. Oh yah, hoovey, right?" She laughed at his discomfort while bagging pen holders and all manner of velcro creations someone had come around to inventing, what with the rise in pony population and thus the need for pony products. "Oh! Your bags! Wait, I have something here." Her head disappeared below the countertop, then sprang back into view, but eyes level with the countertop. "By the way, what was your name?"

He hadn't told her his name, even after she explained hers. He smiled weakly, "Sorry, it's Civil Patrol." She eyed him, those eyes still at countertop level. This was weird. After a split second, he felt compelled to keep talking. "Military family I guess? It's unimportant except as just a label. I've tried going by my human name, but it always feels like it slides off, or belongs to someone else. That make sense?"

Saddle lifted her head and grinned while noddling, "I know exactly what you mean! Like a saddle that even when cinched down was never meant to fit you in the first place!"

He nodded slowly, "Sure, I suppose." He didn't know where to go with that one.

The female pegasus watched him another second, eyes sparkling and disappeared again. She popped back up with a device in her hoof. It appeared to look like a remote control with a single button. "This time it's important." She paused, giving him a curious look. "You know, no matter what, every time is a time your name SHOULD be important. If you were a prior human, well, I guess we each have to rediscover ourselves one way or another. Trust me, your name matters. Just like so!" She pointed the device at Civil's newly purchased saddlebags and spoke into it, "Saddlebags for Civil Patrol," then pressed the button. They disappeared in a flash, causing Civil to raise a brow. She tittered, "Don't worry, I simply teleported them to the manager of the store. She's out with a cold, but she still insists on accessorizing everypony's bags. Her special talent is enchanting. She will mark the buckles and clasps with your cutie mark. The spell also locks the bags so only the cutie-mark owner can open them." Civil became very self-conscious and huddled in a little on himself, looking away. She noticed that and arced her neck over the countertop, "What's wrong? I don't see what the-" She cut herself off when she noticed his flank had no markings on it. "Omygosh! I am SOOOooo sorry, I had assumed, and yes, I'm the ass today." She hopped back and started tapping the remote on the side, "Come on, isn't there a return to sender thing on here? She is going to flip out when it doesn't work!"

While she fiddled with the device, the bags popped back into being on the countertop. Out of curiosity, Civil peered at the clasps and metal fittings. They had a weird swirling color pattern that slowly moved and reformed, like liquid crystal, but no backlight. Definitely not electronics. A flyer taped to the countertop partially underneath the bags advertised custom fittings for every bag purchased at the store. Looking back at the clasps, he noticed they swirled slowly in chaotic patterns, not too quick to make one dizzy, but enough to keep you mesmerized, like watching electric sheep.

With one last smack to the device, Saddle looked up and noticed the bags. "Oh! they came back! And they....oh silly me, she WOULD have thought of outfitting minors, too. AND adults! I meant adults!" She was quick to include him, though he wasn't listening. Them electric sheep, you know.

She lightly coughed and he glanced up. It dawned on him that he hadn't paid yet. "Ah, yes! Here." He shoved a hoof-ful of dollars her way. Saddle smiled politely and picked a few bills out, pushing the rest back at him. He awkwardly put the money and the other items into his new bags and situated them on his back, cinching up the straps.

Saddle nodded and worked the tiller, giving him back the change. "Nice, very nice. I suspect once your mark comes in, the enchantment will settle and reflect your mark on the bags, okay? That's how they usually work with the young ones." She immediately closed her eyes. "Gah, I so did not mean that."

He shrugged, muttering, "Not your fault. Just another joy of being me." She propped her chin on her hoof and was about to continue talking to him, but he quickly shouldered his new bags and quickly stepped out the door. The mare leaned on the countertop, tapping her chin. She felt sorry for him. Not knowing his background, she didn't have to. Having met so many still struggling to come to terms with what has happened the last couple of years, she could almost retell his past, if only in generic terms. With all the confusion in both worlds, reaching adulthood without your mark was like, not knowing what to do in life. She thought of some of her human friends-turned-pony back in her former life that had experienced that. Most ponies assumed they would come into their own far more quickly then they had as humans, something she felt normal humans had a disadvantage in while growing up. Still, she thought to herself with a smile of hope, that left a LOT of exploring to do, something not many adult ponies took part in, unless your cutie mark was all about adventure. She went back to organizing some paperwork, briefly she noticing the awkward stallion meeting some other ponies outside. Good, at least he knew somepony this side of the portal. A lot of semi-lost ponies seemed to have come through town lately, both going to and coming from Equestria. She paused again and silently wished him well, by the powers of the princesses and beyond. He had a long journey ahead of him, and she somehow knew it was NOT going to be boring. Then she grabbed her favorite toy, the price tagger and floated down the aisles, tagging anything that dared to not show a price.

It Only Hurt A Little

After a long loud clipclop trip down the hall, Civil entered the class for Day Two of refresher training. Naturally, the other pegasi were seated early and waiting, chipper than ever. Civil never liked mornings, or morning people. They sat there watching him, having been alerted long ago as he made his way noisily through the building. Some of the humans were still filtering in now and then.

"Yeah, I know," he muttered at them. "Just give me some directions where you got those." He made his way to his seat, deciding to sit next to Strato Sphere again.

"It's not on base. A farrier just outside of town makes 'em," Strato replied, pulling out the seat for Civil, who in turn thanked him quietly. "The welcome packet they sent us has a flier in it. He started up a line of pony accessories when he found out we were being funneled through here for training. We'll swing by after today and get you set up."

Civil's first inclination was to decline a group thing again. That's when Hot Pink leaned forward, another lollipop stick poking out of her muzzle today. She eyeballed him in a most peculiar way. "Um...sure," Civil muttered. Pink raised her eyebrow, waiting. "I'm game for some group shopping, I suppose." Pink rolled her eyes and sat back.

"Finally, the social butterfly flits his wings," she quipped.

It was Civil's turn to act indignant. "Gee, I'm sorry, I didn't get to acclimate to hanging out with ponies like everypony else in Equestria. I was a tad busy guarding crap and fighting dangerous crap. And dealing with some crap nobles selling crap to foals." This got their attention.

Strato asked, "I've got so many questions about all that...dare I say, crap, but that reminds me, you just got here from Equestria, right?" Civil nodded. Strato hitched his jaw in thought. "Eh, I don't get it. Why would you return here...for that matter, HOW did you return as a pegasus? I thought the portal turned us into humans coming back over."

Civil shrugged, "I came back under special circumstances. And as for why...um." He sighed and lowered his voice, "I used to be a Royal Guard, but was suspended indefinitely to pursue another career here." He closed his eyes, trying to remember Celestia's 'goodbye' speech. "I think. I'm still trying to work that one out, I guess." He opened them again and shrugged.

"Hon, suspended?" Pink had an incredulous look, not unexpected from hearing that kind of story.

"He means banned. Holy Hellspawn, you got Banned From Equestria!!!" Strato practically yelled this out loud, causing the rest of the class to turn around and stare at him, with some wearing vaguely knowing smiles.

A smooth baritone voice spoke up, "We've collectively vowed never to speak of that computer game, on account of its depravity and very poor artwork style." That was Barro Metric, the silvery gray stallion on the other end of the row of four ponies.

Hot Pink leaned over to him and murmured, "It wasn't made for the artwork, big boy." She took out her lollipop with a wingtip and licked it. Barro grunted dismissively and went back to watching the instructor prep for class. The human was distributing tablets.

Strato clearly wanted to ask more questions, Civil was sure, but he felt he wasn't in the mood for pony soap operas. His strategy to become incredibly interested in the tablet and gear placed before him was a good enough smoke screen. Strato, for his part, was no dummy. If the mopey ex-guardspony wanted to put on a stony face to the situation, he'd let it slide. Besides, they had Hot Pink on their side. That was almost like declaring victory right after a coin toss.

The class went about as Civil would expect it. In addition to the tablet, they also received a surprisingly small transponder, battery supply, and different odds and ends, like a detachable GPS antenna, and a harness rig. According to the instructor, there was a built-in altimeter in the transponder. Once all the parts were stuffed in the harness and fully connected, the rig would act like a Mode S transponder unit. Civil frowned when the instructor mentioned Mode S. Typically Mode S was needed for aircraft systems that also incorporated TCAS, or Traffic Collision Avoidance System, and those systems were so expensive they were reserved for larger planes only. As Civil brushed off the cobwebs from his human memories he remembered that the equipment actively interrogates the transponders of other aircraft and negotiates collision-avoidance tactics, which the instructor started to mention. A midflight suggestion to get out of the way made from an overly inflated smartphone, Civil thought to himself as he raised his hoof.

"I have a couple of questions about that. Isn't this gear reserved for bigger stuff than us because it's expensive as hell? And how were they able to stuff all that in this?" He lifted the harness. His pony neighbors grinned at him. They didn't have half a clue what the instructor was talking about, but to see Civil finally getting animated over something was amusing to them.

The instructor paused for a second, slight irritation on his face as he distinctly remembered not calling on Civil in the first place. "Uh, yes, normally you'd be correct. However, the FAA is screaming bloody murder at us because they don't want Butterballs shelling their engines. So aside from communicating with other transponders, your equipment will also transmit callsign information, altitude by 25 foot increments, and can even send messages to ATC." He was quick to give the chuckling pegasi a staredown. "NO obscene messages! They can clip your wings physically just as quick as they can any human pilot's. Trust me, getting an inflight message from ATC to call them once you land is about as much fun as wandering into a certain restricted airspace in Nevada. Those pilots still haven't mentioned what happened to them and it's been a few decades." Their mirth was subsequently quashed by the threat.

The lesson continued with operating instructions which were in depth enough to hold their attention for the rest of the day. Its conclusion saw the four ponies walking out of the building. They must have finished a tad early because the sun was still pretty high. Barro turned his head and gave Civil a somewhat questioning look. "Shoes?"

"Huh?"

Hot Pink all but hopped up and down, "Oh yeah! Shopping time! We know JUST the place to get you set up. And it's not some dingy barn out on some farmland manned by a couple of crusty cowboy humans either."

A cough from Strato interrupted her train of thought. "Actually, Pinks, it IS a barn out on farmland, manned by several cowboy humans...only one of which is crusty. The other one, you were kind of attracted to-" A soft boop to his snout by her hoof cut him off.

"He was cute for a human, I said. And you know what I mean. It wasn't dingy, was it?" A withering staredown from an otherwise chipper pink pony was a rare thing, with no defense against it.

"Um...no."

One grin later and Pink was back to normal, "Good! And we can try out our new toys!"

"Sorry guys," Civil interjected, "I'm going to pass today. I never liked going shopping with my family when I was younger, and group friend shopping is just more awkward." He started to turn away and met a pink pony, snout to snout.

"You need this, Civil." He hauled back slightly, trying to gain personal space. She stepped up again and he bumped into Barro who was silently standing behind him. Yay, inter-pony-vention. What was surprising was where the rest of the speech came from.

"We get it, Civil Patrol, you've been through a lot." Barro's deep voice intoned behind him. Some of Hollywood's greatest actors were great because of a voice you could listen to for days, that reverberating bass sound just sublime. Barro's was such a voice. Now wait, no gay stuff here, it was just pure heaven to listen to. Civil turned sideways to regard Barro. "Each of us have had our own crisis in changing, coping, finding others who can relate. Some of us are still just now starting to get our memories back."

Strato walked up next to Barro and sat back on his haunches. "Yah, bud. It's only been a few months since my change, but these two have helped me out tremendously. I've heard it takes a long time by yourself. Just hanging out with other ponies, everything is coming back to me quicker. Also helps when new guys show up and pass on information. Like, whole new areas of the brain open up, explosions of memories!"

Hot Pink takes a turn to speak, "But it's not just about memories. We help each other relearn things we knew, or learn new things we should know. I understand the Guard had a certain way of doing things, prickly personality a requirement." She shook her head and softened her voice. "You aren't with them anymore. It's time to stretch your wings." The other two nodded in approval.

Looking around him, Civil's first thought was he somehow found himself surrounded. His current flight equipment wasn't going to differentiate friend or foe signatures, he mused. They were honestly trying to help him, not unlike the last group of ponies he met. Jetstream and her bossy sister didn't count. He had already seen some humans' reactions to pony existence, as if they were still coping with the possibility that they might turn just by being near ponies! He doubted he'd get much help from humans to fit in. Spurning fellow ponies wasn't very smart. He was stuck here, a permanent guest in this world. He really hoped it wasn't like a certain Tom Hanks living in an airport.

"Okay."

All three ponies cheered while hopping up and down, embarrassing him. They went about readying their gear, sending VFR requests through their smartpads attached to their forelegs. He sighed. It wasn't like he hated groups. Strike that, he did. Individuals he actually liked. He just didn't buy into the group think. The very thought of a bunch of people, or ponies, so blindly attracted to one genre or band or way of thinking simply put him off to the point that it took him years later to come around and appreciate what they had already discovered. Of course by then, they had all moved on to something else. His anime experience was a mess, i.e. Fushigi Yugi. He still couldn't watch it to this day, it had received so much fanatical attention. He was almost proud he hadn't watched it.

A shoulder bump from Pink snapped him out of his mental vacation. "Oi, stop that. We're about to fly. Ready?" He nodded.

As one they jumped into the air, and as one they wheeled over in a perfect diamond formation, Hot Pink as the flight lead with Barro and Strato in wingman positions, Civil at the tail. Several airmen stopped what they were doing to admire the outbound flight of pegasi. While they have occasionally seen groups of them fly formation in the past, it was always a wonder to behold. Winged horses, in this day and age. Ponies, the more mindful of the airmen would address their friends. Don't let a pony hear you call them a horse.

Why?

Just don't, okay? Airman Peterson is still sporting his own cutie-mark of horseshoe bruises on his ass. We laugh at him everytime he takes a shower in the barracks. And that was from a mare.

***

They alight in front of, yes, a barn. Several of the feral horses are observed being put through their paces by their handlers. The arrival of the pegasi failed to draw more than a single glance from the humans. Civil was impressed. Pink motioned them over to the entrance of one of the stalls. They saw an older man with leather chaps on the front of his jeans, a horse's hoof braced between his knees on a pedestal. He checked the shape of the horseshoe he held against the bottom of the hoof, tapped it on a nearby anvil with a hammer to reshape it and checked it again. Satisfied, he worked several nails into it and bent the points out, stepped back to check his work. Once he was sure the hoof laid straight on the ground, he grasped the leg again, safely, and took a clipper to nip the nails, then rasped them flush. "I'll be with yas in a sec. Been working this one's hooves for a while now. She's just gettin over her thrush."

Civil blinked. The older man never once looked their way, but he knew they were there all the same. The nails through the hoof didn't sit well with the pegasus, though. "Pink, I'm not having him hammer those things onto my hooves, I don't care how trendy you think it is." A wrinkled brow and smirk was all he got from her.

Strato quipped, "Wuss, it only hurt a little." He broke up into a fit of laughter. Civil was not in the mood and was about to say as much when the farrier stole his thunder, and his ego.

"Don't you worry none, lil filly," he groused, still eyeing the feral horse's stance. "We use special adhesives for you guys. Your dainty hooves will be as cute as they ever were, just not as prone to splittin." He finally glanced at them, frowning. "Though you birdies could suffer a bit to trot more rather than fly. I dare say your frogs are up for it."

It was Civil's turn to glare, "I'm not a filly. And my frogs are just fine." He made it a point to stiffen his legs. The farrier walked over and knelt in front of him. Civil's ears flicked back a smidge.

"Are they on the slightly smaller side? How long can you stand like that, or how far can you run before your heels start to throb? In wet weather are you running more to promote growth, or pussy footin it til next winter?"

The onslaught of questions had Civil's mind reeling. Hoof care was a basic requirement back in the Royal Guard, but usually it was under perfect conditions, and perfect weather once the local weather teams had finally gotten a handle on things. Some of the farrier's questions hit too close to home. "Um, I run. Some." He bit his lip.

The old man snorted, not unlike an equine. "Yeah, stubborn stallions." He looked over to Hot Pink. "You lot doin ok, Foxfire?"

Hot Pink grinned in reply and stepped up to him, touching his shoulder with her wingtip, "Yes we are, Tim. And it's Hot Pink. Like the thousandth time even."

Tim stood up and squinted his eyes, "You are foxy and your mane looks like its on fire. Well, I'm done with her," while motioning to the horse he was working on. Hot Pink blushed a little pinker, if that was possible. Civil couldn't believe he hadn't noticed earlier, but her mane did appear to be fire. It was red, with blonde yellow frosted tips. He supposed her neon fur had something to do with him never noticing the other aspects of her. Other than that lollipop she always had in her mouth.

"This way gents, and lady." Tim gathered up his tools and headed over to another small building, the quartet of ponies following along. "I have the smaller stuff over here, since it's a completely different process." He put his tools down and opened several cabinets located on the outside of the building. An array of small horseshoes on hooks glinted in the setting sunlight. Several of them appeared matte black. Tim turned to Civil, glancing down, "I assume you guys dragged Mister Personality out here to get with the program, eh?" Several nods from his fellow pegasi confirmed it, despite Civil's scowl.

"I don't need anything fancy," Civil stated. He chewed the inside of his cheek, looking over the different shoes on display. "Something to limit the shock on hard surfaces, dampen the sound."

Tim grunted. He knelt down again and wiggled his fingers toward himself. "I know better than to grab one of yas. A kick is one thing. A flat out suggestion on what to go do with my heritage is something else." Civil could appreciate that and grinned. He lifted his foreleg and twisted it around. Tim never got used to the pliability ponies had over their limbs versus the more limited movement of normal horses, his eyes sparkling in amusement. It took only a few seconds for him to gauge the size and shape before he had a small selection laid out on a cloth at the bottom of the cabinet, Civil up on his hindlegs to look them over.

"We have traditional rubber coated shoes. Generic, and they hold up for the most part, though the rubber wears down after a time. Your better stuff are these," He points to a couple that seem to have been coated by something tougher. "Truekote. Excellent protection against UV, saltwater, abrasion. Great non-slip attribute on concrete, wood, polymer surfaces. Purecast is similar, but with higher physical properties, and good for encapsulation." He flipped the Purecast shoe over, showing the metal shoe was completely covered by the material. "You can get that from the Truekote too, to a lesser degree. We have aluminum shoes if you want to get fancy. Heard aluminum was a big deal where you're kind are from. And I ain't callin it aluminnie whatever. I don't care what the scientific communal said." He sniffed and bent over his tools, readying his hammer and portable anvil.

The poor pegasus stared at the shoes, then back at his friends. The stallions showed off their rubberized shoes while Pink twisted one hoof, silvery aluminum shining from it. Civil looked back at the displayed shoes. "Isn't aluminium too soft to use?"

The farrier stood up from his bent position and popped a few kinks out of his back, grumbling, "Youngins. I had a unicorn come through here, had learned how to imbue metals. Mighty Maus was her name. Peculiar accent, reminded me of some relatives I have in Europe." He reached over and held up a shiny shoe. "Worked out a deal with her. I rotate a supply of these down by that farm near Odessa, and she rotates them back magicked up for strength, along with a steady demand request, large quantities in bulk with occasional specifications for individual tastes. I have a feeling she turns around and resells them, but as long as there is a market for this stuff, we're both happy."

He smiled to himself. "Not bad for interspecies capitalism. We're about to open up a line of boots too, iffin ya aren't interested in the glue aspect of the shoes. It's not that bad, by the way." He reached over and pulled out a bottle of rubbing alcohol. "Some of this breaks up the special adhesive we sell, and the coatings resist the alcohol, so no bothers there."

It was then Tim noticed a very interested pegasus mare almost hopping up and down in front of him. No, she WAS hopping up and down in front of him. He eyed her like any other patient adult would a child. "They're not out yet."

"Yeah, but you said you were opening up a line! That means you have prototypes, parts, and-"

"They're not OUT yet, missy." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. The cute was killing him. "Tell you what, soon as they're ready, I'll have Maus come knock on your door. Or cloud. You ever figure out what you were going to live in?"

Pink knew when she was being sidetracked, but she gave in, knowing he was trying to appease her as best he could. "The ground, for now. We're still working on the infrastructure, not like what New Beginnings has so far, but we're getting there."

It was Civil's turn to get sidetracked. "There's another pony town? Where?"

Strato answered, "Out by Odessa, what he's talking about. In fact, once we are done with the training here, we're headed back there. You're free to come with us, now or later." The others nodding didn't help as Civil was already shaking his head.

"I can't. I promised myself I would visit my parents before I did anything else. I..." He paused and glanced up at Tim. The man stood there, watching him with gray eyes. No judgement behind those eyes. Just a long life that must have seen many things, good and bad. Civil continued as he looked down, "I haven't told them I changed. You know, one of those big loose ends one has to tie up before striking out into the world." He paused, then chuckled softly, "Maybe it will 'only hurt a little.'"

The silence stretched a bit longer than he wanted it to. He looked up and saw shared expressions of pain in his fellow pegasi. They knew, in a way no unchanged human could know, what it was like to confront loved ones. That moment of truth between one reality where the world was right, and the next reality where nothing would ever be the same again. He hesitantly looked up at the only human in their midst and saw sadness in those gray eyes.

"Listen son, far be it for me to tell you ponies how to handle your affairs, but I know a thing or two about family. Take my son Roy, for instance." Hot Pink twitched a little, sneaking a glance around to see if he was nearby. "He had gotten into a bad way some years back, tried his hand at college. After several thousand dollars spent on schooling, court fees and a bail bond somewhere in there, he came back thinking he was a failure." Tim twisted his neck and stared out to the field, catching a glimpse of a young man riding a horse, teaching it how to move correctly. Pink followed his gaze and began her staring.

Tim looked back at Civil and regarded him solemnly. "Good family don't fail. They pick each other up and start over, gettin back to basics. And family don't need to be blood, neither." He flicked his eyes at some of the other farmhands. "Any one of these I'd consider my kin, cause I got to know them, and know them well. When it don't work out, they go. When it works great, they stay, and we all support each other." He chuckled at Pink watching his son in the distance. Then he saw the other two winged stallions watching him. "We ALL support each other." They listened to the sounds of the horses and men going through their routines.

The moment was broken by Barro. "We know, Tim. We'll steer him right." The large pegasus never moved much this whole time, just sat their, exuding confidence. Civil got the impression he was part earth pony.

Tim spoke up a bit, "If ya want, I could call Roy over, get him to check on yer shoes." Pink didn't budge. "Maybe pick out some of his sister's socks for ya-"

She literally hopped up and turned around, choking on her lollipop, "Oh nonono, that's quite alright. Civil, quit being a filly and make your selection already, I need a drink." Tim laughed while Civil once again protested he was not a filly.

***

"They look fine, quit fidgeting." Strato bumped Civil shoulder to shoulder. For the thousandth time, Civil had been caught looking over his new shoes. He had gone for the Purecast line, a few sets of those along with one set of traditional steel. His steel set had also been imbued to be less abrasive to the surfaces he walked on while still maintaining their shape and edge. He was NOT going to wear aluminiums anytime soon, if ever. A knowing smile from Hot Pink while she nonchalantly showed off a shiny shoe to him made Civil look away, shaking his head. The tender bottoms of his hooves didn't help much. A human actually knew more about hooves than a certain pony named Civil did, and he still recalled the lecture about how to 'properly' maintain his frogs from now on. How embarrassing.

Now they stood outside of a dance club/bar thingy in the heart of San Antonio, along it's semi-famous River Walk. The night life was in full swing, patrons moving from pastry stores to diners to bars, and a group of ponies were going to have fun tonight, come Tartarus or high water. And mostly against Civil's will.

See, they had come back from their ponyshoe shopping spree, gotten some shuteye, and gone back for training day 3. The day's training ended, and they were informed by the instructor that, much to Civil's dismay, the ponies were now completely certified to 'walk about the country'. Corny air humor aside, he had been pranked. Hard. Strato did indeed tell Civil early on that the training was an entire week, except that training continued for the human cadets since they had to log simulator time to familiarize themselves with the transponder part of their flying courses. Flying ponies kinda already know how to fly.

Soooo...nobody, and nopony, bothered to correct Strato or inform Civil about that part. While the cyan pony thought it quite hillarious, Civil was under the impression there was an ulterior motive. That later part was in fact, true, except the other ponies didn't act on it until they saw Civil hightail it, literally, out of the training building and to his quarters to pack and get the hay out of there. Naturally, he was summarily thwarted when he tried to walk out of his room by three determined pegasi standing in his doorway, Hot Pink in the middle with a VERY hostile lollipop stick sticking out of her muzzle.

That's when inter-pony-vention 2.0 took place.

After incessant puppy dog eye making and earth-ending prophecies, the trio had finally convinced Civil to go out with them to a bar that night. They wanted to go to a real dive. Civil thought they were still messing with him, until they asked the cabby if he knew where a real dive was located. He actually said yes! Civil slumped deeper into the suv's back seat, already expecting the worse. Much elbowing from his seat neighbors and a professed desire deliver fun to those that need it didn't budge his mood at all. Pink shrugged. She was going to make sure he knew what fun was.

He had been down to the River Walk on a previous visit several years ago as a human. It was a stretch of canal that looped out toward the Alamo and back to the main San Antonio River. He'd been to Germany and seen the Rhine, so this wasn't going to widen his eyes. No. It was the friggin BAR!

They piled out of the suv and looked up at the multi-storied building, a neon sign blazing blue letters 'A Real Dive'. Civil snorted. Cute. Not yet were his eyes widened. A bouncer opened the doors for them, only a hint of surprise at seeing they were ponies. Electro House music spilled out to meet them. Civil recognized the song playing as Poison Lips. He smiled in remembering the music video, the group of dancing nuts in that video probably about to resemble his group. They went inside.

A giant transparent cylindrical water tank, complete with a ski lift and diving board way at the top, is what widened his eyes. There were at least three levels in the building, a bar lining the outer wall on each level. There were flashing lights, UV lights, disco balls, strobes, stage smoke. Deep water divers were down at the bottom of the tank, complete with skimpy neon colored wetsuits and water tanks, playing underwater sports. (wtf). Waitresses walked around in skimpy UV reactive suits, much like the divers. Some rode the ski lift that curved its way up to the top. Once in a while one of them would dive off the diving board down into the water, a streak of neon zipping through the water downward, completing the stunt with a few somersaults in the water before coming back up for air. Several clear tubes with masks on the end of them dangled down through the levels of water so other swimmers who didn't have diving gear could stay underwater longer, entertaining guests at the lower levels. Granted no sexually explicit things were done or shown...but some came damn close.

They had walked in on the second level as the tank went down and up in both directions from their perspective. A giant dartboard had been painted on the tank at their level, with suction-cup darts instead of metal ones sticking on the tank at various places.

"It's....it's a real dive...!?!" Civil exclaimed. His fellow ponies laughed and pushed him along to the bar nearby.

"No shit," Pink replied. She was nudged by Barro.

"Ah, give the poor fish outa water a break." He chastised.

Strato just chuckled and hopped up onto an empty bar stool. Barro got one on the left side of him. Civil sat on Strato's right with Pink next to Civil on the end. Strato laughed again, "Who knows, this is probably the first time he's been in a bar, much less a 'real dive'."

Civil found it very difficult to play it off as though he had been to bars before. Not with the look of utter shock still on his face as he stared back at the giant water tank behind them. "I've been to dives before...I mean bars. Just....well..." He blinked to get some moisture back onto his eyes from all the non-blinking he was doing.

"Just not a real dive like this one?" Pink asked. Civil whipped his head around to look at her and noted her mirth.

He groaned, "Okay, you got me. Real dive. Real funny. I said, it's been a while since I was back this way. This....alright, this is impressive." The bartender nearby heard him and moved over to their group.

"I'm glad you like the place." He had a pleasant Matthew McConaughey look about him, complete with the southern accent touching his voice. He nodded at Pink and smiled, then looked at the others curiously. "Trainees outa Randolph?" They nodded cordially. He grinned. "Great! I love seeing new faces."

"Hi Acey!" Pink exclaimed and reached over the bar with her wing, which the bartender high-fived. Her friends were surprised.

"You know him?" Strato asked.

She nodded back, tilting her head to Ace, "Yeah. I stake out the best places first day I get to a new city. I was here at least a full week before training started. You two flew in before Day One," she nodded at the stallions to her left, then took in the whole place with her gaze, "This was a MUST DO on the Repeat List."

The bartender scoffed and began mixing a drink, a strawberry daiquiri. "Must do, indeed. Last time you were here, I had to UN-do a few things you did. Let's have a pleasant evening tonight, Pinks?" He extended the drink out to her.

Hot Pink flicked a wingtip at him, "Yeah Acey, whatever. I was testing my limits. Now I know them." She stared at the drink he just holding up, then glanced up at him with an unamused look. "Ahem?"

He glowered back at her, then broke it with a grin, "Fine, but the sky is NOT the limit tonight." She started to turn around, "NOR is the ski the limit either," he amended. She stopped and rolled her eyes, turning back to the bar. "Still picking cocktail umbrellas out of the ceiling. Thanks by the way."

The other ponies looked up and squinted but couldn't see the ceiling with the current lighting and smoke.

With his official warning out of the way, he took an ice cube, breathed on it and slid the melty cube around the rim of the glass. Pink continued to stare at him. Ace picked up an airbrush sander, swapped out the sugar reservoir for the salt one and proceeded to detail the top of her glass like it was a car with very low pressure blown salt. It coated the rim alright, along with much of the drink IN the glass. Suppressing a sigh of regret, he pushed the drink toward her. "I regret everything."

"Here's to no regerts!" Pink expertly grabs the drink with her wing and started chugging it. The bartender cracked his neck and looked to Civil and the others, "Pick your poison." Just then the Poison Lips song ended. During the pause, the other stallions made their selection with muted voices now that they could hear themselves speak.

Ace looked to Civil, but the pony shrugged, "I don't want to touch the salted stuff." The two stallions on his left booed at him.

"Oh come on, a little salt lick isn't going to kill you," Strato ribbed him. Barro pulled a long swallow from his Grey Hound drink, paused, nodded once, and continued drinking.

Civil replied, crossing his forelegs, "It starts as a little. Then I get a headache and forget how much I've had. Then I am dying while my stomach convulses. College was fun enough, thankyou." Strato made to argue with him further, but Ace stepped in.

"Tell you what. I'll make you a Fog Cutter. Heavy alcohol, but I've heard from the Pink vine that you guys can take it. It's the salt you have to ease into, or out of." A tongue stuck out at him from Pink was met with him giving her a hand-sign in the shape of a V. Her dramatic and positively fake look of offense made him laugh. He glanced back at Civil. "Just try it. Use the straw first, and later when the ice melts, the sherry on top will be diluted enough to finish it off just fine. Savvy?"

The pony rolled his eyes. "A southern pirate. Okay, Captain, we have our heading." The bartender grinned and began working on his drink. The rest of the ponies congratulated Civil for being a good sport and sat back, listening to the next couple of songs. At length, Barro and Strato wanted to try their hooves at the suction darts, so they grabbed their drinks with deft wings and stepped away, leaving Pink and Civil at the bar.

He watched them leave, then looked back at Pink who was engrossed with watching other patrons dance to the electro music on their level. There were a few large squares cleared of tables and chairs as though people were meant to dance there. As far as they could tell, they were the only ponies there that night. On that note, another song started up, this time Goodbye Horses by Q Lazzarus.

As one, all four ponies stopped and slowly looked up at the speakers. They all knew that song as humans, but now...they then stared at each other. Pink spun around and gave Ace an indignant stare until he finally came over. "Oh, hey, what's with the long face?" he asked. Pink's less than amused grimace caused him to pause. He raised his hands, "Woh, I thought that was kosher."

"It is, normally," responded Pink, who then pointed a hoof up at the speakers, "But not when THAT is playing. Really?" He looked up and listened to it for a few seconds. There was just music playing. Then he caught the 'goodbye horses' line.

"Oh shit." He paused, listening some more. Then he continued, "Yah, that's pretty low. I am so sorry." He looked around for a waitress, then stopped, wrinkling his brow in thought. "Wait, that's not even part of the normal rotation for tonight. Let me go make a phone call to the upstairs DJ. Trust me, no offense was meant by that selection." He finally spotted a young lady and quickly called her over to hold the bar while he went into the back room. The whole time the music was playing, they could see it was putting a damper on everyone's dancing. Some started mimicking the Buffalo Bill dance, but the music was a tad mournful. Barro and Strato went back to playing darts, not quite as energetic as before. Civil watched them as he listened to the music. Pink stared off into nothing, lost in thought.

This was depressing music, Civil thought to himself. He saw it in Hot Pink, too. "What's the story behind Barro and Blueboy?" Civil asked, out of the blue, pun intended.

Pink snapped out of her reverie and gave Civil a quizzical look. "Huh? How do you mean?"

It was Civil's turn to look confused. "Um, well, where did they come from, how long have they been ponies, why don't you hit on them..." He stopped, then regarded his drink. It was severely loaded with alcohol, which was starting to cause his head to swim. True, ponies could deal with alcohol better than humans, but Civil had never built up a tolerance. And he just inadvertently insulted a very nice mare right next to him. "Oh shit, I didn't mean that. I don't know why I said it."

A pleasant laugh from her saved him some of his mortification, "Bullshit. You meant it, and you said it because you were curious why I've been pouring all the attention on you." She twisted around on her bar stool and grabbed the armrests with her hooves, hopping it closer to him. Leaning real close so she could lower her voice but still be heard over the music, she said, "I pay attention to you because I can feel something." Civil gulped at the closeness. She noticed his reaction and pulled back a little. "As for them, I can rat them out later. You're the damn enigma here. I've laid it on so thick, only a snow yeti would resist my hotness." She turned her head to watch the two stallions play bro darts. "Is it a dude on dude thing for ya?"

She turned her head back to him to find a very deep red faced pegasus, sputtering, "What?!? No! No, I like girls! Mares...the female stuff. I like all of that!"

She tilted her head, grinning in a playful way. "Alright. Well, to get from point A to point B, there has to be attraction, and dating. I don't do it for you?" It didn't help that she was blatantly moving her flanks around in the bar stool, as though she were in a picture shoot for some magazine spread. He kept his eyes glued to her face, the word 'spread' spreading through his mind worse than the alcohol.

"That's not it at all. You do, uh, do it for me. For anyone...anypony! I mean, you don't do it for anyone, you're not a whorse." His eyes flicked up as though he could see the DJ upstairs. "Stupid song. I just mean you aren't doing lots of people...dammit!" He growled to himself. "I can't talk right now-" A gentle touch to his snout from an aluminium bedecked hoof stopped his rambling.

"Then don't," she murmured. Pink stared at him, the flashing lights casting odd sequencing shadows back and forth on their faces as they watched each other. "I thought the alcohol and ambiance would loosen you up. You are so honest, you make me feel sullied." She grinned and leaned closer again. "But to be honest, I'm not THAT sullied. I sense a good warm heart in you. That's why I pay you attention." She flicked her eyes at the other two stallions, "They are great friends to be with, and if I wanted to, I'm sure they would be up for a date or two. But Barro already told me he has someone to go back to out by Odessa. And Strato, he's still testing the waters." They both spied the cyan pegasus draping a wing over Barro, who in turn pushed him away with a hoof and said two words, which must have been Def Comedy Jam material because he had Strato rolling around laughing. "Testing, but not succeeding."

"Rolling on the floor, laughing," muttered Civil, trying to look away, and failing. "I never thought I'd see it acted out."

Pink shook her head and smiled, "They're a hoot, that's for sure." She went back to Civil. As the song got close to its ending, Pink bent her neck a little to look down at herself. "You never looked or asked about any of our cutie-marks." She touched his shoulder with her hoof when she saw his discomfort, "I know, yours hasn't come in yet. I sorta figured that part out when you first walked into the training room. Looking at our marks, or any ponies, reminds you of yours." He was about to correct her when she frowned, his mouth open. "You have one, Civil," she said adamantly. "It just...hasn't shown its true colors. And with a heart like yours, it will be a beautiful thing to behold when it does."

Civil sat back a little. The song had faded away, thankfully...and it left a deafening silence between them. Sure, there was the din of patrons talking a little louder now. An occasional splash of water one level above and some cheering from inebriated audience members broke up the din. Yet there she was, laying out all the cards. And she wasn't playing a game he knew at all, now. Her eyes were steady, never wavering. He finally broke his gaze with her and looked down at her flank. There he saw what he had been avoiding these last three days. He could just make out a large pink heart, a shade darker from her normal fur. It had two wings on either side, one black, the other white. The whole image had a corona of orange, yellow and blue flames wafting around it, as though doused with gasoline and on fire. He looked up.

She was still watching him. He took another drink from his glass and cleared his throat. "You keep mentioning sensing my heart. You're not talking metaphorical, are you?"

She grinned and shook her head, stretching a little to tap her cutie-mark with her wingtip. "It wasn't too long after I changed, I discovered I could sense people's hearts." She waved away the question Civil was about to ask, "Nono, not like the princess of love, Cadance. This is more like a subtle feeling of worth. I can sense goodness, potential, in people and ponies. With ponies its easier, I think because of the magical connections we have with each other. Maybe..." She took on an introspective gaze. "Or more their essence I sense? For instance, Acey here actually gives a shit about what you say, unlike most bartenders."

"I heard that." Ace came back around and relieved the waitress manning the bar. "And I do."

Pink grinned at him, "I know."

Just then a simple beat started up from the speakers, with electronic music phasing in, complicating, innovating. A slow rising background sound could be heard with a heartbeat-like sounding bass. Barro came back over to the bar.

"Is that what I think it is?" The essence of electrohouse music began.

Ace nodded at him, "And just to make amends, another round on the Swedish House." Barro snorted as the bartender started to make the iconic drink to this song. Greyhound. He slide the drink to Barro, who thanked him.

Strato returned to see what the fuss was about, found another drink in front of him, FREE, and fussed no more. For a time each pony was bobbing their heads through the duration of the song, feeling the vibes and letting the up and down notes take them where the song wanted to go. There was even a flatscreen TV mounted above them showing the robotic dog race attached to the song. While they all stared at it, Strato leaned over to Barro, "Still going to be a photo finish." Barro elbowed him back and muttered an apology to nobody in particular, only glancing at you once.

"Yeah, sorry about that, my little ponies," Ace apologized, receiving groans for his obvious need to squeeze in that line at least once tonight. "Hey! How often can a guy like me say that and still sound manly?" They pelted him with wadded up cocktail napkins. He shielded himself with his arms, "Okay okay! Anyway, I checked on that song earlier. Sounds like some drunkard on the upper level paid our DJ to slip that one in. DJ Jedi usually is good about not pranking guests. He didn't think anything of it, didn't even know you guys were here. He is very sorry it happened and is willing to make it up to you. One song, free of charge, anything you want."

Pink laughed and twerked her ears, splaying them haphazardly, "Jedi? What, he feels the force when he DJ's?"

Ace blinked at her, then leaned forward, half serious, "Not to make this whole episode trippy, but that's exactly what he says when anybody asks him."

She gave him a shrewd look. "Yah, he told me that the first night I was here."

The bartender lost his stunned look and laughed at himself, "Ah, figures. Anyway, whenever you're up for it, I'll make the call for you." She nodded her thanks and sat back, losing herself to the song. The other ponies took her lead and did the same.

Once the Greyhound song started to finish, she glanced up at the TV to check, then got Ace's attention and mouthed a few words only he could see. He smiled and headed to the back again.

Strato turned away from the TV and asked, "Whatcha got in mind, Hots?"

Barro sat back and enjoyed his drink. Normally He liked to listen and wasn't much into dancing......buuuut....he had a feeling this was going to get interesting and didn't want to come back to a drink diluted by melted ice, a free one at that. He set his empty glass down and calmly waited.

Pink kept her own counsel and stepped off the bar stool, walked halfway to the tank while eyeing the divers and swimmers. She turned around and faced Civil, planting her hooves while partially lifting a foreleg, front of the hoof tip pointed down, poised.

Garage ratcheting sounds and static pops from welding torches start flowing from the speakers, sensitive pony ears all around twitching from the noise.

-Surreal Moment Ensues-

Muted electrics guitars start playing Shut Up and Drive primary chords from the speakers. Pink's head begins dipping to the beat. Drums blend their way in, her body sways in time neck pulsing left and right as her limbs seem to limber up. At the thirtysecondth beat all the accompaniment backs off except for a tiny percussion beat and Hot Pink begins strutting forward singing along with Rihanna....

"♪I've been looking for a driver who is qualified♪" Nose to nose with a stunned Civil, she slides over to his side.

"♪So if you think that you're the one, step into my ride♪" Wedging herself behind him, she headbutts his rump toward the swim tank. Trotting sideways singing in his ear,

"♪I'm a fine-tuned supersonic speed machine♪" before flipping over him slow motion,

"♪Got a sunroof top♪" lands leaning against his other side, "♪and a gangsta lean♪"

"♪So if you feel it♪" slaps his face with her mane, "♪let me know♪" again, "♪know♪" and again, "♪know♪" and trots ahead.

"♪Come on now, what you waiting♪" slaps his face with her tail now, "♪for♪" again, "♪for♪" and again, "♪for♪"

"♪My engine's ready to explode♪" twirls her tail in circles, "♪explode♪"and around, "♪explode♪" and around.

At this point she's near the tank and stands sideways. The divers coalesce into the shape of a sleek car, their bodies forming the frame. Barro and Strato skid to a stop where the seats would be, Barrow lowering his left wing at Pink's hooves.

"♪So start me up and watch me♪" as she steps up his wing with every word, "♪go, go, go, go!♪"

"♪Get you where you wanna go, if you know what I mean♪" She slides over onto Strato to sit on his back, patting Barro's back for Civil.

"♪Got a ride that's smoother than a limousine♪" He steps up onto Barro and sits on his back.

"♪Can you handle the curves♪" Pink slides a hoof down Civil's withers, "♪can you run all the lights♪" She boops his nose and Civil's ears go up.

"♪If you can, baby boy, then we can go all night♪" She hits the tank twice with her hoof, the divers readying themselves.

"♪'Cause it's 0 to 60 in 3.5♪" She looks straight ahead, lollipop stick pointed straight. Civil blinks and looks around. Really?...???

"♪Baby, you got the keys♪" She pulls her lollipop out as he turns his head to her to speak, shoves the lollipop into his mouth.

"♪Now shut up and drive♪" She slaps Strato's rump and as one, the whole ensemble moves forward, "♪drive, drive, drive♪"

"♪Shut up and drive, drive, drive, drive, drive♪" By this time everybody on their whole level is standing up, cheering, AND dancing while watching this mix of both dry AND wet choreographed 'dancers' start to move around along the tank wall, simulating Pink and Civil riding in a car. Pink continues singing,

"♪I got class like a '57 Cadillac, and overdrive with a whole lot of boom in the back♪" Civil leans back to look at Pink's rump, but she grabs his chin and pulls him back to lock eyes with her.

"♪You look like you can handle what's under my hood♪" She yanks the lollipop out of his mouth and stares at it, eyebrow raised.

"♪You keep saying that you will, boy, I wish you would♪" She sticks it back into her mouth.

"♪So if you feel it, let me know, know, know♪" She leans back looking at his rump, her wing hovering short of touching where his cutie-mark would be.

"♪Come on now, what you waiting for, for, for♪" Pink pulls her wing away so quickly the moving air across the area shudders Civil.

"♪My engine's ready to explode, explode, explode♪" She rapidly taps the tank again.
"♪So start me up and watch me go, go, go, go♪" With that she hits both Barro and Strato's rumps hard and they shoot off at a gallop, the divers keeping the 'car' around them as they race the tank wall.

"♪Get you where you wanna go, if you know what I mean♪" Pink's wings start to extend.
"♪Got a ride that's smoother than a limousine♪" Civil grabs onto Barro's neck, trying not to slide off.
"♪Can you handle the curves, can you run all the lights♪" Civil starts to sit up now.
"♪If you can, baby boy, then we can go all night♪" He lets go of Barro's neck, more confident in his sitting.

"♪'Cause it's 0 to 60 in 3.5♪" Civil grins and is about to sing, feeling the pony magic.
"♪Baby, you got the keys♪" At the pause of the song, she claps her wings together forward. The screech of the song coincides with everyone stopping......except Civil.
"♪Now shut up and drive, drive, drive, drive, drive♪" He slides face/muzzle several feet, tumbling forward at the end in a pile of white and black pegasi.
"♪Shut up and drive, drive, drive, drive, drive♪" The divers break up in all directions, Barro and Strato either side of Hot Pink.

"♪'Cause your Maybach♪" Ace has nineteen glasses lined up, twirling and knocking cocktail shakers to mirror the music, "♪ain't got what I got♪"

"♪Get it, get it, don't stop, it's a sure shot♪" He runs down the line, filling each glass.

"♪Ain't a Ferrari, huh, boy, I'm sorry♪" She walks over to the bar, Barro and Strato waiting by her side.

"♪I ain't even worried♪" She has them lift her up to the bar, "♪so step inside♪" And proceeds to kick the filled glasses to waiting patrons with every echoing word.

"♪And ride, ride, ride♪" Catch after catch is greeted with a swallow and a cheer. All nineteen 'rides'.

"♪So if you feel me, let me know, know, know"♪ While coaxing poor Civil up to the bar with a beckoning hoof.

"♪Come on now, what you waiting for, for, for?♪" He waves belatedly as he picks himself up, shakily walking over.

"♪My engine's ready to explode, explode, explode♪" Her tail twirling around in circles finally galvanizes Civil. He takes flight...

"♪So start me up and watch me go, go, go, go♪" ...and lands next to her up on the bar on the last 'go', and stands, as does she, both pressing on each other's forehooves, nose to nose, the accompaniment cutting out for the vocal.

"♪Get you where you wanna go, if you know what I mean♪" She sings to him, both stock still and staring at each other.
"♪Got a ride that's smoother than a limousine♪" As one they push away and start dancing in concert, drums kicking back in.
"♪Can you handle the curves, can you run all the lights♪" They bump, cutie-mark to non cutie-mark.
"♪If you can, baby boy, then we can go all night"♪ Pink shoves Civil off the bar, who somersaults in the air.

"♪'Cause it's 0 to 60 in 3.5♪" He lands, four on the floor facing her, offering up his foreleg.
"♪Baby, you got the keys♪" She takes it, steps down, Civil catching her and she slides in his grip slowly to the floor.
"♪Now shut up and drive, drive, drive♪" He stares down at her as she continues singing, looking up at him.
"♪Shut up and drive, drive, drive♪" They stare. She sings.
"♪Shut up and drive, drive, drive♪" They stare. She sings.
"♪Shut up and drive, drive, drive, drive, drive, drive, drive, drive, drive, drive, drive, drive, drive....♪"

They stare.

-Sureal Moment Over-

Everyone eventually settled down, still glowing from something they (the humans, at any rate) couldn't even explain to each other, much less themselves. The ponies returned to their seats, Civil and Hot Pink breathing heavily. And not just from the dancing.

"That was..." Civil started, "was..." He gulped for more air.

Pink, flushed and trying to slow down her breathing, finally gave up and slumped in her seat. Tongue lolling out of her mouth, she grinned when her eyes slid over at Civil, "Pony magic." She melodramatically stretched a wing out to the bar to grab one of the drinks she kicked and gulped it, then slammed the glass down. Luckily it was a thick glass and didn't break.

"That, was pony magic," she exclaimed. After a few seconds of deep breaths, she sat up and regarded Civil. "THAT is why ponies stick together." Civil couldn't find fault in that logic and nodded. Any normal pony would know this stuff by now. He hadn't had much chance to do group dancing or singing in the Guard. And as for his sporadic solo assignments...yeah, no singing then either.

Ace wandered over, shaking his head and laughing, "Wish I could have filmed that. The car, the dance." He glanced at the tank as the swimmers were settling back into their routines, "the taps. The slaps!" He grinned right at the other two stallions on the other side of Pink.

Barro sat lower in his bar seat, covering up his blushing muzzle with his glass. Strato had no scruples. He nodded with a pervy look and merely sat back, regarding the other three ponies on either side of him with shameless pride.

Of course, any good moment was never left unchecked by a pinch of deliberate foulness.

Civil noticed two humans who had taken up spots near them further down the bar. Hot Pink was closest to them. Of the two, one man seemed unusually red in the face, but not from shame. It was the color of intoxication. With the way he talked loudly to his friend, clearly he'd had enough.

Part of his boisterous conversation stemmed from Ace having cut him off, which he eventually directed at Ace himself.

"Look pal," Ace responded, "I didn't make the law, I just abide by it. Aside from my opinion, this establishment has a limit and you've already snuck two past that. You're lucky we're letting you stay for the snacks." He started wiping down the bar and picking up empty glasses.

The man drawled out, "I been watching how much you poured into them glasses for all those other customers, and especially for those animals, whichzes way more n mine. I'm a person, dammit! Equal is is...equal. Damn straight!"

Ace stopped wiping the bar and stared at the man, "I said no. I suggest you eat some food, dance some more, or leave."

"I'll have some beer nuts. At leastsh is beer!" He laughed raucously. While Ace moved away to find a bowl and snacks, he regarded the mare nearby. "Hey, is true what they say, they do get gooder looking the more you drink."

His friend tugged on his shoulder from behind him, "Frank, let's just go," but he wasn't having any of it, shrugging off the other man's hand.

"So, little horse. Did you like my song. I kinda figured it'd fit. Ya know, cuz yer horses."

Civil slowly pushed his stool back from the bar with his forelegs, but a pink hoof touched his closest foreleg, keeping his handhold on the countertop.

Hot Pink smiled and turned her head to Frank. Then the smile slid off her face like oil on water to reveal a cold stare.

"Yes, let us examine your contribution to society. Your attempt was puerile and your choice under-dramatized. Furthermore, it lacked any sense of structure, character, and the Aristotelian Unities." Hot Pink delivered the lines with a deadpan expression and in monotone, as though in a very boring lecture hall.

The drunkard stood there, trying to figure out what she just said.

Civil, who was contemplating pulling away from Pink's hoof, paused. He leaned close behind her and asked, "Did you just rip off a movie with that, or do you actually know what you said?"

For her part, Pink regarded the intoxicated human with half-lidded eyes. "Both. When we're sober, I'll explain each concept as they apply. But for this poor slob, the abridged version." She stepped away from the bar and fanned her wings, an impressive sight even while sober. She got several patrons' attention, including Frank.

"Behold, the catastrophe!" She pointed both her wings at the human. He stumbled back a step. "To be interpreted by you, or your choice of action. Either applies. Next, the resolution." Both wings pulled back and she used her primaries to give him a version of a double middle finger, pony style. "And last..." She looked around, then peered at the human. "Do you have the time, poor drunk human?" Dumbly he stared down at his watch.

"Uh, eleven thirty...somethinseven," he slurred out.

She grunted and walked back to the bar, hopping up on her seat, "Within a single day, I doubt you'll remember your own name, let alone the burn I have delivered to you. Cheers." She went to drink from her glass, only to find it empty. After a dramatic sigh, she fixed the bartender with a serious look, "Ace, I think I'll have that special, now." Instead of a congenial smile to show full service to his patron, he looked irritated, but got to work. This time he pulled another glass from underneath the bar, a heavy looking clear tall tumbler. He grabbed several bottles of liquor and started mixing them in a metal cocktail shaker. He also called a waitress over and asked her to get more towels.

The drunkard recovered and huffed to himself, "Yah, whatever, you horses talk funny anyway. But I was watching you dance, and I never was all into the animal thing." He licked his lips and caught a glimpse of Pink's cutie-mark, then made his way closer to her. "I reckon yer as hot as that tat on yer backside. Let's find out." He started to reach out to it with his hand. All three stallions stepped off their bar stools.

Hot Pink raised her foreleg to her fellow ponies, holding them back. She winked at them with her left eye while keeping her right one on the man. "Dear, you touch THAT part of my body and I will separate you from whatever appendage you used to touch me."

"Bullshit, you're just a tiny horse. What can you do?"

Ace just then dumped the contents into the tumbler. The waitress returned with an armful of towels, which he took and just stood there, waiting.

Civil didn't try to get into fights, but call any mare in his presence a whorse, much less touch them on their mark, and it wouldn't matter if it was a cultural misunderstanding. That would be hashed out with police that finally came to pick up the mess.

Pink still kept them back.

She replied with a heavy sigh, "Here, lemme teach you something, hon." She stood back from the bar again and flexed her wings. "In case you haven't been edumucated yet, we have magic, especially in these." The guy stiffened a little but stayed in place. "If I really wanted to, I could do severe damage with these. Our Royal Guards," She used this moment to refer to Civil with a foreleg, causing the man to eye Civil with renewed concern, "use special attachments called wingblades that can surgically cut our enemies down to size." Civil nodded at the man, enjoying the human's discomfort.

Pink looked the human up and down and added, "So to speak." Then she raised her right wing and lowered her left, "But for a typical bar fight? Eh, I prefer the natural touch." She spun to her left, sweeping her raised wing down across her drink glass on the bar. The barkeep hopped back as the top half of the glass slid off at an angle, spilling the upper half of its contents all over the bar, the diagonally cut piece rolling away. Ace swore and used several hand towels to contain the spreading spill. Several patrons stared at the remains of Pink's drink, a fair few spilling their own on themselves while they sat petrified at what they just witnessed.

The would-be bully stood there, stark white from witnessing such a deadly move. He stammered a poor excuse for an apology and stumbled out of the bar, his friend who had been tugging on him trying to catch up.

Ace continued to swear about extra work made by ponies.

"Oh come one, Acey," Hot Pink groused, walking back to the bar and dumping the lower part of the glass contents down her throat. "You had plenty of warning that time."

A final quick sweep of the alcohol puddle from the bartop into a nearby sink took care of the mess. Ace squeezed out his rags. "The drink spills, I don't mind. I actually love seeing that trick. It's the puddle HE left," he stuck a thumb behind him at the direction the man went, "I have to deal with." The ponies looked down at where he was previously standing and saw a nice yellow puddle.

"Oh," Pink replied. She raised a brow at Ace, "That reminds me, where's the ladies room again? I was too out of it last time to remember where you moved it."

She received a thumb pointing off in another direction, along with a surly, "It never moved, and neither did you, for six hours if I recall."

Pink flicked a wingtip at him as she walked by, "Details, details, blah blah."

All three male stallions stared after her, then looked at Ace who shrugged at them. They looked at each other, each one trying to encapsulate what just happened in some coherent statement. Or a question maybe? A word??

Barro said in his deep voice, "That boy peed his pants. Ain't that a bitch."

***

They took two separate cabs back to their rooms since they didn't feel safe flying. The others stayed off base while Civil's arrangement was in the officer's billeting. He stared out of the window during the drive, head swimming from the drinks, and probably from other things as well. He must have really been out of it not to notice anything else when his cab pulled up in front of the building and he stumbled out of the back seat to stand by the curb.

"Nice accomodations, Civ. Maybe I should go military sometime. Watcha think?" He turned around to stare at Hot Pink, staring right back at him. "Right back at cha."

He knew there was a fourth wall break in there somewhere, but he just couldn't think straight. "What are you doing here?"

"Um, took the cab with you?" Like, as if I flew in my condition, am i right? Definitely fourth wall break.

Civil sat back and squeezed his eyes shut. "Hot Pink, I know you really like me, and I'll admit I really like you, just...I don't want to do this, like this." He looks up, almost pleading, "It's not right."

She snorted and brushed past him, quipping, "Yah whatev. Not like we were going to have sex. I just want to talk before you shove off. sheesh."

Mental pause.

"What?!" He made to follow and stubbed his front hoof on the curb, falling down forward. He got up, splayed out all four legs to get his balance again, then erratically stepped into the building. She had already asked the receptionist what room Civil was in since he was a bit too out of it to go there himself. Upon seeing him right behind her, the receptionist gladly gave Pink the number and the mare guided him to his room, much to a lot of incoherent words from said stallion.

"Look, you're still an enigma and we didn't exactly finish our conversation." They were in his room and she was slowly moving around it, checking things out.

He had made his way over to the bed and gazed it at. He wanted to sleep this all off. And leave. Before things got weird.

He was about to protest, but she said, quite happily, "Oh, see? You do have a clue." She brushed right past him and climbed onto the bed. His addled mind watched her pull back the blanket and sheet, tuck herself underneath, and pat the pillow next to her.

His head started to throb a little. "I suppose no doesn't mean no where you come from?"

Pink glowered at him. Come to think of it, she might have actually looked a bit hurt. "No means whatever you want it to mean. This isn't sex if you are that worried. Just get over here."

He thought about his options. All of them involved some form of sobriety which he did not possess at the moment. He climbed up on the bed, muttering, "Alright, but no groping."

"Good!" She smiled like a cat.

As soon as he got under the covers and rolled away from her, she laid right up against him in spoon fashion, drapping a wing over him, and added two right legs as well, "Mmm...now THIS is what being a pony is all about."

He stared at the ceiling in frustration.

"This is what making me horny is all about."

He felt her lift the covers a little as she looked. "You don't say..." He pulled the covers down on him again and twisted his head around, now lying on his back but looking at her...her very close muzzle in his muzzle.

"What are you doing!?!"

She smiled sweetly, "Trying to figure out your needs."

"Well.. you can tell-" He stopped as he stared down over the blanket, a large lump making a nice tent. "There, happy? My physical need." His head slumped back...the upper one. pervs.

She regarded him curiously, "I can tell you aren't doing anything about it. Why?"

He was here. She was here. Just the two of them, intimately close. He thought about the bar, all that had happened there. The different songs and their meanings. He thought of the shopping they did at the farm, for his benefit. He thought a lot before he finally answered, "It sounds stupid..."

She moved her foreleg across his chest and kept her hind leg low, purposely avoiding his private area. "I won't laugh. Go on." He turned his head and saw only concern in her gaze.

Sighing, he complied and looked at the ceiling, "I have slept with a few girls. Human, mind you. I...don't honestly remember any mares. I mean there were a few I liked. Just..." He flicked his eyes at her, then back at the ceiling. His ears were laid back in obvious discomfort. "In any case, yeah, I had past experiences. First time, I felt really dirty, like I had done something wrong."

His bed friend made to protest, "Now Civil you know it's perfectly natural-" but got stopped by a hoof to her muzzle, for a change.

"I know, Pink. Natural to everyone...pony, but not me. I thought maybe it was a fluke, ya know? It's supposed to be fun, enjoyable. Healthy. Sometime later I met another girl, we slept together after a few dates...never dated again. It wasn't about the sex. I felt wrong. IT felt wrong. Like, it was worthless." He paused, waiting for her to respond. She didn't.

He looked at her and saw tears in her eyes. He got alarmed, "Pink, I didn't mean to upset you."

She shook her head. "You didn't. Go on. I need to hear this, even though I know where this is going." He watched her warily, but continued.

"Then after some years, still as a human, a college friend contacted me through the internet. Back in school we hung out but never actually dated, we were both in the marching band. I had a feeling she wanted me to date her, but I didn't know what I wanted back then. She even flew up to Oklahoma City where I was stationed to visit." He paused again. Then he said, "We slept together."

Pink's ears perked up, but listened without comment.

"It was, better? Like, they say 'friends with benefits' but this wasn't that. This was someone I didn't just happen to meet the previous week. I knew her, we had fun together, we had history. And when we were intimate...not just sex intimate, it was REAL intimacy...." He trailed off, thinking back to those times they had enjoyed with each other.

Pink listened avidly, knowing exactly what he'd say next. This is what drew her to him, and this is why she just didn't dominate him right here and now, no matter the hormones flowing, the time of year. Technically she wasn't in heat, per se, but a conversation like this could very well put a decent mare in one. Or at any rate, a mare who knew what kind of pony Civil really was. Only a few mares could sense things in others. Yes, Cadance was the poster pony in such things. Pink had her own strengths, too.

And she was powerless in her knowledge of Civil Patrol's being.

"I visited her in North Carolina. Stayed there over the weekend." He turned to Pink, asking her, "You know, I didn't sleep with here the entire time there? It was weird. This girl, she was okay looking, outgoing personality, smitten with me...and I just wasn't feeling a connection. I felt bad for not giving into her desires and didn't want her to feel rejected, yet that was what I did. It was like the trip there was verification that she wasn't the one for me. True, how does one know what they want unless they try things. I wasn't feeling it. Sexually attracted, sure. Here?" He tapped his chest, but looked down when he noticed the spot he tapped was actually Pink's hoof, directly over his heart. "Oh, sorry." He smiled sheepishly.

She smiles, eyes glistening, "You have nothing to apologize for." She rubbed her hoof slowly over his heart. And nodded. "I had to know. Rather, I had to hear it from you. I already knew." His look of confusion caused her to giggle softly. "I think you sort of know, but are still working it out."

This got him to sit up a little. "Know what?"

She raised her brow at him. "There are selfish beings in this world. Delusional beings too." She regarded his chest, as though she could see to his core. "And then there are those that are so pure, the rest of us question whether or not it's a charade. Rare are the ones that would take your path. Rarer still are those that remain pure despite that path."

He smiled at her softly and gently pushed her hoof off. "I'm not pure. Not like that. I've done things when I was a kid. And back before..." He closed his eyes, seeing yellow eyes with red pupils floating in front of him. He blinked the image away. "I don't know what path I'm walking."

He was met with a very strong hug, and Pink whispered in his ear, "I envy the mare you walk that path with. I will respect your wishes if you are not interested in me, and if you ever need help in the dating department...I can put my feelers out and see if there are any WORTHY mares for you. Maybe some humans too, if you are still up for that."

Turning to look at her, he made to say something. That was, until he lost himself in her eyes.

After an indeterminable amount of time, she smiled and said, "I will also respect that you are not ready for me." He broke the gaze, stared at her chest fluff. Another few minutes passed.

He held her tighter to him. She obliged.

***

Light was in the room. The sun was on the rise and made an effort to push its was past the curtains to wake those inside.

Those. Plural.

Civil sat up and looked down in the bed. Some small pink feathers mixed with a few of his white ones were in the bed, but not their owner. The sounds from the kitchenette in the next room...not to mention smells of really good breakfast drew him out.

"Morning sleepyhead. Eggs, pancakes, orange juice?"

The moan of 'yeeeeeesssss' was enough to make Hot Pink giggle as she worked over the stovetop. "Sleep well?"

Another long yes ensued, though that was from him stretching, flexing his wings, lowering one wing while raising another...wait up!

"By the way, how did you slice that glass last night? I was so out of it I forgot to ask."

He was met with a husky laugh. "Oh please, that was an old college trick I learned back west." She was working the eggs into two separate plates. She checked on the pancakes in the other pans.

Civil waited. And waited. And- "Oh fess up already!"

Pink put the pancakes in the dishes and turned off the stovetop. She turned around and leaned against the sink, "Weeeell, you see, when lovely ladies are beset by disturbing men in bars, one must learn a trick or two to push them away. A subtle hint, a kick in the crotch...some weak adhesive on a precut tumbler that dissolves from alcohol, i.e. liquor, and a well placed bartender to help out." She pushed away from the sink and spun around, grabbing both plates with her wings and presenting them in front of her, as though she had magicked them in front of her, "and voilà, wings of death!"

While she walked the plates over to the table, Civil chewed on his lip. "You made that man pee his pants."

With a raised eyebrow, she responded, "You three were going to make that man dead. Which was the better result?"

He raised his hoof in defeat and sat down, "No arguments here."

She smiled and set the plates down on the small table near the kitchenette. "Here you go, Golden Child."

Breathing in the aromas, he looked up at her, trying to keep his drooling from...forget it, there was no stopping the drooling. He grabbed the nearby napkin and cleaned his muzzle. "Golden Child?"

"Well, after a conversation like the one we had last night, there is nothing black and white about you!" She giggled at herself and brought her own plate over after having set the pan down on the stovetop. "You are a gem in the rough, and the sad part is aside from me, only a used and abused female would appreciate what you have to offer."

Dubiously, he answered, "I dunno about that." He broke the egg yolks and swabbed them up with pieces of pancake. He stopped and looked up at her sharply, "Actually, they-"

Pink staring intently at him, not eating her food caused him to stop.

"Why do you think they gravitated to you?"

He looked off to the side, then back at her, "I never said anything about their history. Yeah, it's true the college friend was previously married and her husband had died from an illness, and the first one was previously married...the second one, she wasn't married before, though she was a bit odd, personality-wise. I suppose if she had bad boyfriend experiences, she would be a bit jaded like she was...." He trailed off, thinking.

It was true. They had locked on him in such a way he originally thought there was something to it. What weirded him out was that after he had slept with them, he felt worse, not better. When he glanced back at Hot Pink, she had a knowing look.

"And that is what is special about you, Civil." She sat up and started eating. He watched her for a while, then remembered he had food right under him and went back to eating it.

The pause was palpable at the table. So palpable that something had to, "Go ahead, ask."

He blinked, then felt guilty for thinking it. "Sorry, I couldn't help it. Seeing as how you have showed so much interest, and with what you were saying. Um." He sat up in his chair. Human chairs sucked.

She grinned at him, "Don't worry, I won't be offended."

He smiled gratefully at her. "Okay then. Well, uh...were you used and abused?"

He got a piece of pancake thrown at his face. "No, you twit!"

"Oh come on, you promised not to be offended!" He wiped his face of the syrup. Yeah, she chose a syrupy piece on purpose.

Pink wiped her muzzle with a napkin and pointedly stared at Civil, "You don't just up and ask a mare if they were 'used and abused'!" She hissed softly to herself, then smiled a little, "Still rough around those edges. Look, you want to ask if I've had a bad history, you say 'Hey Pink, were you ever married or did you have bad dating experiences.' Like that. Dummy."

Civil scoffed at her, "Oh, so those other girls we were talking about, they don't count as far as the 'used and abused' label goes?"

"Nope."

....

"I don't understand you," he replied.

"You don't understand mares. Or girls. Or females, for that matter." She tapped out each instance of female words. "The biggest female we know has seen fit to put you on a path you seem uniquely qualified for, and you still don't even know why she did that!"

That gave him a cold chill. "What biggest female?" She couldn't mean....

"Celestia."

He stood up, pushing back the chair, "How do you know about that!?!"

The pink pegasus lost her serious look and smiled apologetically, "I uh, might have, peeked...at some stuff. maybethismorning," she practically squeaked out.

Civil glanced over at his saddlebags where the scroll was stashed away. They had looked messed with, their haphazard configuration in which he had dropped them was new this morning. It was the little things he noticed. Returning his eyes to the mare, he saw her truly sorry for snooping through his stuff. He couldn't stay mad at her, and it wasn't like she didn't already know he was banned. He had told her, earlier.

He sat back down, "Hm, nevermind." He stared at his plate. Picking up another piece of pancake and chewing on it, he realized it was the piece she had thrown at him. He chuckled softly and looked up while he chewed. "You are right, you female-folk are just beyond me."

She sighed with relief, making him feel worse that he had made her feel that way in the first place. She spoke quietly, "Perhaps after you visit your family in Dallas and get settled down, wherever that is, you can swing by Odessa sometime." She played with her napkin a little bit, staring at the stains on it. "I could teach you about us female-folk." As though a switch were flipped, she looked up at him fiercely. "Proper female-folk. Worthy of a heart like yours."

He swallowed the piece that he had stopped chewing as she made the suggestion. He smiled, "Sure? I mean, I would love to visit that pony town near there anyway. Seeing you again and hanging out, doing things. That would be icing on the cake, right?"

He saw nothing but pink as he was wrapped in a pegasus-style bearhug. She whispered in his twitching ear, "You have no idea how you make a mare feel, do you?" He could only shake his head.

"Like I said," he muffled out.

"Yeah, like you said." She released him and he slumped in his chair like a blobfish brought up from the high pressure depths to jelly out all over the place. When he got himself situated in his chair again, she had returned with a large piece of paper and her name and phone number written up in the corner, a pen hanging out of her mouth. "There, call me whenever you feel like it. If you keep thinking about me, act on it. I promise even if it doesn't work out, we'll have fun." She danced around the table back to her seat and paused, looking at him sidelong, "I dare say you'll at least find out what you DO like, THUS narrowing down what you truly want in a mare. Mmm?"

He looked at the writing. It was very well done, considering it was mouth-writing. She was all over the place in personality. Which brought out his snarkyness. "Used the whole paper, didn't you?" The writing was wedged way up in the corner, leaving a mostly blank page.

With a rueful smirk, she leaned over the table with her wing and traced a tight heart shape around her writing on the paper with a wingtip. A wisp of ozone was left behind and Civil lifted the page, a nice cutout of Hot Pink's writing in a heart staying on the table. The small bit of paper had a cute jagged border around its edge.

".........how......?" Civil. Stunned.

She grinned at him and wiggled her wingtips. "Not everything is a cheap trick. I can actually shear things. Clothing, ropes, clouds. Working in wires, though. Ahem, pinking shears, to be exact. Apparently 'Hot Pink' just doesn't mean color." Silence from Civil ensued. She rolled her eyes and frowned, "Okay, you polygraph, I had to look it up, so yeah," she said, brightening up after a thought occurred to her. Pink stretched her wings forward, and moved them opposite each other as if to form a giant pair of scissors with them, saying, "more than meets the eye!"

Civil rubbed his eyes with his hoof. "It's too early to pantomime corny cartoon phrases."

"It was from a movie."

He stared at her. "You poor child...there is so much...." He groaned, "Nevermind, just, we WILL be discussing that line when I visit you later."

She all but beamed at him, "You really want to visit? Visit me?"

He glanced away in thought, then back at her. "Yeah, I really do. I need to square away some things first."

She nodded, "Of course. Oh, the others wanted to say goodbye to you before we went back. You will hang out a bit?"

He nodded, "I think I can do that."

She sat back down and finished up, humming cheerfully to herself.

***

The two stallions were waiting outside billeting when Hot Pink and Civil Patrol stepped out. They had brought Pink's bags with them, so Civil figured they had been staying in the same room off base. Ponies really did have a need to stick together here, moreso than in Equestria, he supposed.

As Pink gathered her things and checked everything was there, Strato sidled up next to Civil and whispered, "So did you two...."

Civil looked alarmingly at Pink, whose ears were perfectly pointed in his direction, because all ponies had good hearing and whispering was just stupid and useless at this point, but polite anyway. He said in a normal voice, "No. Just cuddled all night. And talked."

Strato gave him a curious expression, looking him over, "See, that I can actually believe. Well there's hope for you yet...juuust.." His eyes lingered on Civil.

"Ugh...what?"

"Um. Not into girls?" Strato's face was bereft of any deceit.

Civil frowned, "Oh come on! I..." The corner of Strato's mouth twitched. Civil shook his head, "You're messing with me."

"Hah. See, you're starting to get it," Strato laughed. Barro chuckled a short distance away while Pink looked on with an odd sense of pride in Civil. Strato asked, "You at least got her number, right?"

Civil clutched his bags to him with his wings and stated defensively, "Yeah. She offered."

"You made her offer first?" Strato asked, surprised. "Really string em along?" Hot Pink's eyebrows shot up and she made a cutting motion under her chin with her hoof.

Civil wasn't too concerned. He felt better about himself for some reason. "Whatever. It's not like that. I promised to visit her, and you guys, too. Anyway, I meant what I said couple of days ago, I'm not searching right now."

"We're all searching, most times not knowing for what." This was from an otherwise quiet Barro.

"Sbpbtbt," was Strato's response.

Barro intoned, "Hey, don't hate the player-"

"Hate the play," Civil cut in.

All three ponies stared at him. Least surprised though, was Hot Pink. She felt she knew Civil best, of the ponies there. That kind of response was right up his alley.

"Celestia damn," Strato said, "....that's some next level shit, Civil. I gotta remember that one." He looked the black and white pegasus up and down again, this time as though he were really seeing him for the first time. "I have a feeling most underestimate you. Am I right?"

Civil felt good about others noticing he wasn't awkward, or a geek, or a dork, or just plain odd. He didn't feel like he was superior, only that...well, yeah, "Story of my life," he replied after some thought.

Hot Pink walked up to him and nuzzled him lightly, whispering, "Just don't underestimate yourself, kay?"

Civil blushed, but nuzzled back, "I'd say you were the next level. I'll keep that in mind." She walked away, blushing furiously as she swished her tail, keeping him from seeing her front. Civil thought she was just Hot Pink being Hot Pink, but her friends knew otherwise. They waved their goodbyes and followed her to a designated launch point for all outbound pegasi. Civil was the first to leave, having picked up the lessons quicker than the others. He had no idea...

"Not a clue," Barro Metric said, readying his equipment for the flight back.

Hot Pink didn't say a word. She checked her gear as well. She feared what could come out of her mouth if she opened it. Opened her thoughts to a voice.

Strato Sphere watched her quietly. This coming from the normally chatty pegasus.

"He said he would visit," he said to Pink. She didn't respond, just kept tapping into her smart pad with route information. He continued, "Who knows, maybe he'll have a bad reception at home and he'll have no choice to come to Odessa."

Her head whipping up to stare at him made him take a step back. "Don't ever say that!" The alarm on Strato's face caused her to reach over and place a reassuring hoof on his shoulder, which settled him a little. "I'm sorry, Strat. Just, that would be a bad thing for him. He needs his family, and the kind of pony he is, it would break him if they rejected him."

There was silence as the three looked at each other. Strato looking guilty, Barro introspectively nodding. Strato turned his gaze up in the direction Civil had left. He could just barely make out the speck in the clear sky. "Yeah, you know me, I was just kidding." He received another pat from Pink. After seeing her nod, he stretched his wings.

"What do I know," he said, hearing his joints pop. "Military guy, loving parents, coming home after being gone for almost three years, won a war twenty-five years in the making! We could be so lucky, coming home to a welcome party like that. The kid will be alright." He sounded jovial and absolute about it.

Barro glanced at Pink. She stayed silent and sent in her flight plan electronically for approval.

***
"Hi mom! It's me, your son. From another world...but I was here earlier. And there before that."

He blinked at the red painted door. Then he muttered, "Stupid...stupid."

Civil grumbled to himself while he stood in front his parents' front door. His human parents. He had been reviewing what he should say to whoever opened the door. Most likely his mother would answer it. It was still very early and she was usually up by then. He could see movement near the kitchen through the stained glass windows on either side of the door, so he knew she was up. Probably making espresso to wake up and get on with the day. He should have called to warn her he would be here today. She disliked surprises.

He closed his eyes and groaned. This was a very horrible surprise. Too much had happened to their family. Not as bad as some families, he knew, but it got up there. Still, all was not completely lost. A son had indeed come back, this time. Chickens come home to roost. He wrinkled his nose. Okay, that was just stupid. Stop it, brain!

The one true fear was fearing the unknown. The only way he ever found to combat that was imagining the worst. So...what was the worst thing that could happen? He remembered she had a cane sword in the coat closet near the front door, though she was never one for direct conflict. She knew how to fence, so he wasn't writing that off completely. She would hate him? That didn't fit either. She was a christian. More importantly, a Catholic. Not a severe go-every-Sunday-plant-statues-in-your-front-yard Catholic, but enough to look to God when she needed help. That meant she wouldn't hate. Maybe dislike. Disgust?

God. Okay, so what would Jesus do? Civil snorted. He'd knock on the door and accept what the world threw at him, without hate. With forgiveness. Fine, Civil thought to himself. Looking to God occasionally worked, he grudgingly admitted.

Three knocks rang on the wooden door, his new shoes adding a little oomph to it. Not too hard to alarm the occupants inside, yet loud and confident enough to not sound strange. There was so much one could communicate in knocking on another's door. The force used, the rate and number of knocks. A minute passed and he started to worry he had not done it loud enough, but then he saw her walking quickly from the kitchen, a small cup in her hand. Ah, she was in the middle of working the espresso machine, which would make her rush to the door. Like he needed more tension in this.

The sound of the door unlocking led to it opening up, his mother at five foot nine towering above his head. For a second her greeting stuck in her mouth as she looked past him, her eyes flitting left and right in confusion. Civil's slight tail movement caused her to look down, eyes widening in surprise.

"Uh, hi mom! I'm back. Home...today. How are you?"

If you ask any person, most will respond they have never had this experience. Not the whole greeting your mother as another species, but the aspect of slow motion itself. There were two instances in Civil's memory where he experienced what he liked to call time dilation, where thought either sped up or slowed down with respect to actual events, both times witnessing things in slow motion.

From his unique perspective, he watched the cup in his mother's hand fall slowly from a frozen hand, the liquid slipping up past the rim as freefall physics took over. Drops, perfect spheres and oblong forms made their way following the off-white porcelain Italian espresso cup until all of it, cup and coffee, exploded on the doorstep, the liquid splashing onto Civil's foreleg hooves and fur.

While the hot liquid was startling, the pain was not unexpected. It only hurt a little.

Author's Note

Happy Mother's Day

Case In Point: Family

"Dammit," she swore, looking down at the shattered cup.

Okay, not one of the worst responses he could have imagined, but then again, his mother NEVER used to swear.. Mostly never. Civil made to step back. His mother waved a hand quickly, "No, don't move. I'll clean it up." She stared at the mess for a few seconds, eyes lingering on his stained legs a second longer before rushing back inside the house to the kitchen.

For his part, Civil had figured he would either be let in quickly, or door slammed just as quickly. This was, well, awkward.

She came back, several dish towels in hand, and knelt down to pick up the broken pieces and deposit them on one of the spread towels while using the rest to sop up the liquid. It was mostly a wasted effort, Civil noted. The bricks were already saturated. The entire time she kept her eyes on her work, as though looking up might cause another shock, or so he figured.

"Look, I'll just come back another time. This is upsetting you and I-"

"NO!" She threw down a larger piece on the pile. It shattered, shards scattering everywhere. Both of them winced, for different reasons. She hardly ever lost control. He hardly ever saw it. His mother took a deep breath and said quietly, all the while looking down at the mess, "Stay. Please." She clenched her jaw and shook her head, stating in a lowered voice, "I already lost one son. I'll be damned if I turn the other one away." Closing her eyes briefly, she opened them and regarded him fiercely, then went back to work.

The pegasus wasn't sure if that last part was meant for him, yet he knew not to argue the matter. So he waited while she picked up the pieces in tense silence, her attention firmly on her work. When the mess was mostly cleaned up, she stood and finally looked at him again. And almost dropped the mess she was holding. Civil smiled weakly at her.

"Sorry."

His mother shook her head and frowned slightly. "No, no it's not...it's not you. I'm sorry. You tried to tell me, on the phone. I looked up a lot of things online, saw a lot of things." She paused, eyes glancing off into the neighborhood. After living in Brooklyn, she had a habit of seeing who else was taking an interest in her family's goings on. Her glistening eyes gave away the fact that it was just a front. "I had a bad feeling something wasn't right." She cleared her throat as the last couple of words came out rough.

"Like I said," Civil murmured, taking one step back. "I can come back later. You don't have to feel guilty about it-"

She huffed a small laugh, cutting off his reply as she regarded him. A glint in her eyes showed she was starting to calm down. "You leave that stuff to me. You're home, and that's all that matters. The rest of this..." She paused, then waved her free hand to encompass all of the pegasus in front of her, "...we can talk about later. Your father's in the back, doing his gardening thing." She stood aside in the doorway and tilted her head toward the rear of the house.

Tentatively he took a few steps inside. After his human mother gave him a strained smile, he was at least comfortable that she wouldn't be pulling out her cane sword. One of her hobbies was fencing, something she and Jason used to do while he was in high school. She had continued with it once he went off to college, going to the local fencing club to certify as an instructor. Jason used to be good, very good. Now...he stepped quickly past the coat closet where it was stored, not wanting to test how rusty he might be.

The house smelled the same as he remembered it, an aroma hanging in the air. Last night's meal. He turned his head back while steering into the kitchen.

"Shrimp creole?"

He heard a slight inhale behind him. She replied in a surprised tone, "That...was two nights ago. You can smell that?"

He turned around, now fully in the kitchen, "Oh yeah. I love that smell! Any leftovers?"

She smiled weakly and shook her head. "We finished it off last night. Your father and I thought we could go out tonight, to celebrate your re...turn." The last word was somewhat clipped, as though she hadn't meant to say it. She added quickly, "I can go to the store if you want to eat home." She avoided conflict when possible, and cooking was something she never got complaints about. As for conflicts she could not avoid...Italian women were famous warriors.

"No, ma, we can go out. I'm fine with that...just, can't beat your shrimp creole, you know?"

He eyed her response, smiling when he saw her face beaming with pride, "No, you can't." One blink later and she remembered there was a winged pony in her kitchen, her face becoming stoic again. Stepping past him, she moved to the back door and opened it.

"Daniel, Jason is home." Then she went about her normal morning routine, taking out food items from the fridge for breakfast. Observing she was still in a struggle between welcoming him and reconciling his transformation, he felt it best to skirt around her as he made his way to the door. She didn't necessarily avoid him or brush past him, but there was some amount of tension, with neither one knowing what to say or do.

That made things potentially troublesome if he were to stay in that house. Karen, a name only his human father could call her, used to be Jason's confidant, as was any mother for a respectful boy growing up. His father had been the disciplinarian of the family, doling out heated lectures and even more heated paddlings like they were candy to him and his brother and sister when he was growing up.

He didn't recall his pegasus father being quite as heavy-handed, or heavy-hooved as it were. Then again, he had butted heads with Justice as often as with his human father. Civil Justice was stern, authoritative, and claimed it was all out of love. Civil Patrol figured all fathers and sons clashed. To be respectful AND independent, that was the goal for a son to achieve, according to all fathers. Too late those sons discovered father's intent, and much too late to thank them for their efforts. As far as Civil was concerned, he still had a father left, and he'd deliver his thanks to him.

IF he didn't grab his gun as soon as he saw a mythical creature approaching him.

Why was he thinking this stuff?? Granted, they were in Texas, but his mother was from New York, the official mixing pot since the United States had been founded. His father was from North Carolina, where southern hospitality rivaled the Apple clan back in Equestria. Although, the Carolinians could be a bit stuck in their ways when it came to race, but his human relatives had always been accomodating when his sister visited them during college break and brought friends from all walks of life.

Just relax, he mused to himself as he nosed open the screen door and walked out onto the patio in the backyard. He tended to think the worst of those he was closest to. A product of a troubled past, he supposed.

Daniel had grown up poor on a small piece of land out in the farm pastures of North Carolina. Daniel's father had purchased a few acres after he had returned home from World War Two. Just enough to grow some crops, mostly. So a lot of what he ate was food they grew themselves, and their whole family worked their relative's lands or dairy farm soon as the littlest ones knew not to throw rocks at that big horned cow, i.e. the bull. Daniel in particular had done well in school and eventually went to West Point up in New York, where his classmate had introduced him to Karen. Before that, though, he had become a bit of a genius when it came to gardening and crop raising. If he hadn't already been older than 25, Civil would have bet he was earth pony through and through. He could make anything grow in any condition.

He was on his knees in between a row of tomato plants, inspecting them for snails. Hearing the screen door bang as it closed, he took his gloves off, wiped his face and stood up. In contrast to his wife's thin shoulder length brown hair, his was black, salt and peppered now in color, and very curly. The man groaned, most likely exaggerating the pain more than what he actually felt in his knees, but tended to make needless noises like it was a joke not worth attaching words to. He was very smart. And very emotional. That was the part that worried Civil as he stepped closer.

Daniel squinted his eyes. Normally he didn't wear glasses while gardening, never having a need to since he wasn't reading anything. Now he wasn't so sure what he was seeing. He fished his case out of his back pocket and fumbled to put his glasses on. Did his wife just buy a big dog? Or did Jason bring one home? Putting them on, he finally got a better look at what this thing was.

"....my God..." He could only stand there. Of course this was no dog. He knew what dogs looked like. Daniel also knew what this creature in front of him looked like, but...even after he did an internet search on what his wife was going on about the other night, she couldn't have possibly expected him to believe...?

Civil could see the stunned look, a near mirror to his mother. Except, where his mother was sheer emotion in a battle to control that emotion, his father waged war against logic itself. The eyes studied every detail, from the muzzle to the tail, withers to the fetlocks. It was then Civil remembered his human father had a pet horse a long time ago when he was young. A slight tilt of his father's head meant he was studying the flanks now. Maybe trying to remember what a real horse should look like? As if to reassure him this was real, or maybe to show off, Civil slowly spread his wings out to either side.

A calloused hand quickly went up to cover a mouth in shock, a foot hitched back a half-step as though not sure which way to go. Civil sighed slightly, realizing that was probably not the best action. To the human mind, things made sense as a person got older. While this might seem redundant in pointing out, the phenomenon behind why that is was quite remarkable. As babies, humans were surprised by every new thing they saw. Over the years, the mind would continue to see new things, but start to categorize them based on past memories. For instance, if one saw a four legged animal, the mind would sift through all forms of past sightings until a suitable match was made. It is almost a defense mechanism for the mind to immediately relate some past vision or shape with whatever is currently being looked at. Later in life, on the rare occasion that the mind encounters something that either it knows cannot exist, or it simply has never seen before, a very peculiar thing happens. It locks up. In a panic to try and make sense of what a thing is, the baser instincts take over, like fight or flight. It can happen to even the most intelligent of humans. Which meant Civil had to crack on.

"Dad, it's me,..uh, Jason. I know this looks really weird. I am a pegasus." He waited to see if his father would respond. He didn't. "Um, they're kind of like horses, with wings? Except we call ourselves ponies, what with the word 'horse' being impolite."

His father blinked and lowered his hand. "I know what a pegasus is." He almost sounded indignant, if not for the shock still present on his now flushed face. After a few seconds of silence, he continued, somewhat unsteadily, "I was just, shaken, with your eyes. They're very large for a horse."

Civil raised his brow. He knew bullshit when he heard it. "Uh huh, so all that just now was a version of 'Oh my, what big eyes you have?'"

His father made to open his mouth, then closed it and worked his jaw a little. Snarkiness tended to cut through awkwardness well. Some movement by the windows caught Daniel's eye and he noticed Karen letting go of the curtains to step away from the window inside. She must have been watching how he would react. He knew he'd be getting teased later.

"Yah, I suppose you got me." He slowly grinned down at the pegasus. Daniel was taken with how cute the pony looked, once you got past that whole talking/intelligent bit. Certainly not stallion-like in the Clash of the Titan movies, though if truth be told, he was fond of the original one. The new ones were just too...hip? He chuckled and eyed the pony. "Jason? Is that really you in there, son?"

Civil stepped closer to his human father and looked up, keeping all emotion off his face. "Dad, I took quarters from your dresser when I was young. You tried to teach me tennis but that was a complete failure. The one thing I took to heart was you said you would be proud of me no matter what I did or who I became." He took a deep breath and raised a hoof, looking down at it. "I'm not in the Air Force anymore, and I used to be in the Royal Guard on another world, but uh, that didn't work out either. I can try to explain to you how all this came about, but in short, I'm a pony that can fly and talk, and I have all the memories Jason would have, in addition to new ones coming in now and again from my previous life. I know you are familiar with farm animals, but I'm still a person. Just...well, furry, and hoovey, with a different diet now." His eyes drifted back up as he added, "If you aren't proud of me, I'll understand. I just need some time to figure out what to do next and then I'm gone."

Logic was not the winner that day. Daniel nearly fell as he moved forward to kneel down and grab the pegasus, pulling him in while he squeezed his wet eyes shut. "I AM proud of you, son! Never think I'm not! I don't care if you are in the military or what world you came from, I know my boy when I hear him." He hugged tight, a bear crushing Civil, yet the pegasus didn't know how to respond. Daniel said again in a lower voice, "I know my boy..."

He had managed to get his right wing out to wrap around his father as much as he could. The other was pinned to his side most uncomfortably. It was an effort to push away a little before his father got control of himself.

"Dad...eh, easy on the wing. They can get damaged pretty easily." As if stung, Daniel pulled his arms back.

"Oh, ah, sorry. I've never hugged anything with wings before." His eyes twinkled and he raised his voice. "Except my angel of a wife, isn't that right dear?"

Civil turned his head around to see his mother standing by the back door. "Yah yah, and flattery will get you everywhere. Isn't that what my mother used to tell you?"

"Hah! It certainly got her to invite me back a few more times even when you weren't up to it!"

Her face took on an indignant look. "That was my mother interfering. She just wanted us to get married so she could have grandkids." She blinked and her eyes went wide when she realized what she just said.

To cover her embarrassment, Civil piped up, "And she certainly got them, apparently." He grinned lopsidedly between his mother and father, hoping they could get past the awkward moment.

While his mother smiled ruefully, his father stood up and scratched the top of Civil's head. "Damn straight she did. If she were alive today, I wonder what she'd say now."

His mother shook her head, nonchalantly waving a hand, "She'd probably try some Italian anti-curse on him, with some Holy water and spit to shoo away the demons." His father looked shocked again, some of the mirth leaving him. She continued, "You know how my mother was." She walked inside. "Breakfast is ready."

Daniel grunted and started walking to the house, leaving Civil behind. He turned his head back to the pegasus and muttered, "Yeah, let's hope your mother doesn't go the same way."

An "I heard that!" came from inside. His father only groaned, knowing he would be hearing about that later, too. He noticed Civil wasn't following him and stopped. "Hey, son, you hungry?"

Despite that very heart-felt and painfully felt hug, he still wasn't sure if he was allowed inside. "You sure? I don't want to impose."

It was his father's third time to look shocked, then a stern look came over him. "Jason, you know you can always stay here for as long as you like. You kids are always welcome here. Just don't burn the place down. I spent way too much money and time getting it the way I like it."

Civil grinned and stood from his sitting position and trotted after him. "Mom still wanting to paint the walls?"

His father snorted. "You see them walls painted yet, boy? Like I said, the way I like it." His bravado was unmatched, as was his confidence, until he saw his wife with a look that she could still hear everything he said. "Well, maybe not the way WE like it, right hun?"

"Hmm, don't hun me. 'We' still have a few projects left, like getting the squirrels out of the attic. Taking down that dead tree in the back. It could fall over any day now! And when are we getting a new dishwasher? This thing leaks all the time!" Every project she named took away his father's grin to the point where he was frowning.

"I suppose I could get to those today." The smell of food got both him and his son's attention. "But first, we eat!"

Civil merely replied, "YES!" They both sat down to a plate of waffles, eggs and bacon. The bacon strips, Civil pushed away from him. While steak was definitely out for him, pork was something he was still experimenting with. And salted pork was something he had to really watch, else it could cause him to act funny.

"Not into bacon anymore? Your father can eat them if you don't want them," his mother said while seating herself at the table.

"Mm, yeah, sorry. I think a few things changed with what I can eat now. I'll have to make a list, if that's alright." She nodded in response.

They ate in silence. All of one minute.

"Soooo," his father began. "You can fly?"

Continuing to eat with his special velcro strapped utensils he had pulled out of his saddlebags, he nodded. His mother sat there, her face unreadable as she stared at him eating. He wasn't sure if she was simply studying him or trying to come up with the right questions to ask. She seemed at ease when she spoke to Daniel, but when she focused on Civil, she became very reserved.

"Good," his mother finally said. She looked down at her plate and started eating, keeping her eyes lowered. "He can help you with quite a few of your projects then." Civil grinned in response to his father's disgruntlement about 'projects'.

"Yeah, I suppose having a flying horse around the house beats getting on ladders."

"And falling off of them," his mother replied, still looking down as she cut up her food.

Civil took a napkin with his wingtip and wiped his mouth before interjecting, "I don't mind helping out. Just, uh, using the term 'horse' is rude, where I come from." This caused both his parents to stare at him. He placed the napkin down delicately, staring back. "What?"

"Where you come from?" his mother asked. She said it delicately. No anger.

He pursed his lips. "Sorry. Before I was human. Equestria. Like the cartoon...in fact, Equestria was the inspiration for the cartoon. The main character, one of our princesses, told her childhood friend when she was a young girl. Later pitched the idea to Hasbro. Shows, toys...profit?"

This of course got the expected responses from those still trying to grasp the monumental changes of the world lately. His father choked on food he forgot was in his mouth while his mother set her fork down. "Okay, Jason. I assume there is a lot of story to tell. Feel free to fill us in on why you had to stay away for almost three years, why you look like something out of a Greek epic." She glanced at Daniel still pounding his chest, then back at Civil, "Why your father can't...use the word 'horse,' why...do I need to perform CPR on you?" Turning back to her husband, she handed another napkin over to Daniel.

Wiping his mouth and watery eyes, he shook his head emphatically. When he could finally speak, he heaved in some air, drank water, and finally sighed. Smiling daintily to his wife, "No, dear, that's not CPR, that's the Heimlich. CPR would be bad for coughing."

"Oh, you know what I mean." She waved her hand.

Civil blinked, waiting for his parents to turn their heads back to him. When they did, he sat back and stretched his neck to work some kinks out, sighing heavily. "Okay. A long time ago...uh, depending on who you talk to, both this world and Equestria were dimensionally close enough so several monsters got through. Those are your manticores, minotaurs (they are sentient, somewhat), chimeras, Cerberus (oh yeah, he's not on Earth anymore, but in ANOTHER world called Tartarus), and a few other things. The talkative ones, like dragons, unicorns, pegasi, and funnily enough, some deer (don't ask), plus a few other entities passed back and forth between our worlds over the centuries." He held up a hoof when he paused, his father already naming off some other creatures like werewolves and vampires, "I don't know about those. All I know is a long time ago, our two worlds were linked. I'm just answering the whole Greek thing." He glanced at Karen, who nodded, still listening. Both his parents were well versed in the classics. "Also a long time ago, there was a being named Discord, the embodiment of Chaos. I could spend hours talking about things having nothing to do with me and everything to do with Equestria, but you want to know what happened to me, right?"

They both nodded and remained quiet. Remarkable.

"Alright..." He paused, racking his brain for a version that wouldn't be overly detailed. Unfortunately, there was none, which meant he would have to gloss over some parts for brevity. He took another deep breath, and spoke.

"Twenty eight years ago, Discord cursed most of the population in Equestria to be reborn as humans here. At the human age of twenty-five, we all reverted back to our original selves, with our human memories and bits of our old pony memory as well. While I was up in Oklahoma stationed at Tinker Air Force Base, I turned into a pony on my twenty-fifth birthday. They tried to hand me over to a government contracted science organization for experimentation, but I escaped. I made it back to the portal to Equestria, fought against a host of monstrosities that Discord had created, and we won. Since then, I've been serving in the Royal Guard...until uh, they made me come back to Earth. So here I am."

In retrospect, he supposed he could have added more details. He got the major points in, though.

"Now wait just a damn minute! What is this about being experimented on!?" Was his father's response.

"...twenty five...?" Was his mother's response.

Civil looked between the two. Not understanding what his mother was asking, he addressed his father. "Yes, dad. At the time they thought it was some kind of retro disease or virus, like a foreign weapon turning us into dumb animals...that could talk, ironically enough." He shrugged. "From what I've heard, the President has been pushing legislature through to give us equal rights. Apparently having one's family members change makes you think twice about torturing talking ponies."

Karen closed her eyes, murmuring, "so many sick people."

He turned to look at her, "Mom, we aren't sick. We really were ponies before we were born here. And I still remember my life here and how I feel about you guys." He looked back at his father. "That hasn't changed."

She shook her head at him, "No, that's not what I meant. I...read some things online. Horrible things. I wasn't sure if it was made up or just rumors, or just perverted filth. Some news articles here and there. What I read, no matter how old or young you were, at the human age of twenty five, you reverted back to that time you were cursed, changed, right?"

He nodded.

Sitting back, she clasped both hands together in thought. "What are the chances...." Her eyes flicked up at Daniel, "We need to call her."

This time it was Civil who began asking questions, "Her? Her who?" Then it dawned on him. "Oh shit, Renee! She's going to be...wait, her birthday isn't for several weeks, right? I mean, we've got time, yes?" His parents slowly nodded. He relaxed, smiling. "Then there's no real rush. Chances are, she might not even change."

"Dear, what are the chances that ANY person can change?" His mother asked. "There are billions of people on Earth, and it's not like everyone who is younger than twenty five is destined to change, are they? I mean, you might be right...this could, uh," She hesitated, eyeing Civil. He waved a hoof for her to continue, understanding this was new to her and she was unsure what could be considered offensive. She frowned, "I suppose this could...pass her by?"

All he could do was shrug. "I don't know. That entire time, Discord could have cursed everypony, yet there wasn't a whole lot of us anyway, not like here on Earth. One million, two million tops? He'd have to be cursing the entire time. Figure 25 times 365 times...wait, the Equestrian calendar is different. Ugh! I hate math." He rubbed his temples with his hooves.

His father, on the other hand, had his smart phone out and was tapping away. "Forget about Equestria calendars. He'd still be sticking to our calendar, regardless. The age is twenty five, plus three years, right? Let's see, that times 24 times 60. Divide that by that. Mmmm..." He stuck his tongue out of the side of his mouth in thought. Definitely some Twilight in him, Civil mused. "6.57 minutes per curse, if he was dealing with just 2 million." He looked up, peering over his glasses. "That about right?"

Civil frowned. "Hence why I cut my story short. Wait, why were we calculating his curse rate anyway?"

His mother spoke up, "To figure out what the chances were that Renee might change when she is that age." She tapped her teeth with a finger. "Although, you could have just done a ratio of 2 million to 7 billion. Worst case, he cursed all of them." She had a very old digital calculator out, the kind that had little solar panels on it. "So, divide one by the other, and you get .00028, or .028% of the population on Earth. 1 out of every 3500." She sat back, a small smile on her face. "I can live with that."

A split second later, she realized what she just said and glanced at you quickly, "Oh, I didn't mean that, I'm so sorry!"

He was already shaking his head, "It's ok mom. I AM living with it, and I don't wish that on anypony, especially Renee. It was a horrible experience, waking up from nightmares, then waking up one day and living the nightmare, only to find out it's real." He gave both his parents a wistful look. "It's not all bad. I mean, I can fly! How long have I wanted to do that?"

"All your life, dear." Tentatively, she reached out and hesitated, hand hovering over his foreleg that was on the table. Slowly she placed her hand down on his hoof. "All your life. Maybe I'm looking at this all wrong. Maybe this is what you were meant to be, and we were just around to protect you until you got there." There was a moment where mother and son stared at each other, eyes tearing up, memories of a childhood's worth of dreams about flight and freedom.

And, the moment was shattered when a throat cleared. "So what's this about not using the word 'horse'? Why is it rude? You know I had a horse growing up, and we called it a horse. Well, we gave it a name, too." He stated this matter-of-factly as though it were...well, a matter of fact.

Hoping to skip past the story about a horse and his boy, Karen tilted her head as well, "Yes, why is that word rude?"

Civil scratched his chin with a hoof in thought, once again having to explain something that otherwise came naturally to ponies. "Well, let's say you take the word 'horse'. H, O, R, S, E. Now, put a W in front of it."

A few seconds passed.

"Oh!" was the embarrassed response from his mother. After a bit of contemplation, she cleared her throat. "Yes, uh, that is quite rude. I hadn't thought of that." She looked to Daniel to see if he understood as well.

He sat there, thinking. "Horse. W in front of it. Worse. Worst. Worcester sauce?"

Karen shook her head and lowered her voice, "Daniel, he's saying it the same way, but spelled W H O R S E. As in 'whore'. Whorse, right?" She glanced at Civil, who nodded.

Daniel still spent a good minute thinking about it. Civil could see the corners of his mouth twitching, so he obviously knew. He was just trolling his wife. Finally he came up for air and replied, "I don't see anything wrong with it. Tomato, tomawto. Horse, whorez." He emphasized the 'z' sound on purpose, starting to get a grin on his face. Karen merely rolled her eyes and turned to Civil.

"Actually, it's rather clever, horse vs whorse. I wonder who came up with that?" His mother pondered.

"A horse, of course," snorted his father. That earned a groan from Karen and a hoofpalm from Civil. Daniel started humming the tune to Mister Ed.

"ANYWAY....I suppose we could still warn my sister. As it is, this can be very traumatic if you aren't expecting it, and she is as dramatic as they come," mumbled Civil.

Nodding her head, Karen got up from the table. "I agree. I'll call today, but not right now. She has night shifts as a nurse and we'd be waking her up right in the middle of sleep." His mother peered at his plate and noticed it was gleaming clean. "I know you are accustomed to a different culture, but is 'licking the plate clean' that necessary?" He nodded, which received a sigh from her. "I don't mind making more, just ask." One grateful smile later and he had a second plate in front of him, which he dug into. Daniel stared as the food disappeared, his own forgotten.

She looked over at Daniel when she noticed he wasn't eating. "Don't you dare-"

"He eats like a whore-" A quick glare from Karen. "Ssssssss." Followed by several minutes of volatile glowering and muttering.

Civil didn't care. He had food in front of him, a roof over him, and two loving parents supporting him. He felt accepted here.

"So, why were you forced to return?" His mother asked, the glower all but gone and replaced by curiosity. She always had a good memory.

Stopping halfway through his second plate of food, Civil found he no longer had the appetite of a whorse. Horse. Dammit, thanks, dad.

==============

They stared at the tall dead tree in the backyard. Tall enough to fall onto the house or the fence in any direction. Dead enough to be sparsely limbed but still rooted firmly in the ground.

Once Civil had given them the rest of his story, including the fates of all known pony relatives he was aware of, the two 'men' had come back outside, quietly.

"I'm sorry about your folks." Daniel was eyeing the trunk, gauging how high he could safely cut it. His eyes never left the tree as he spoke. "Your pony folks, Justice, and...help me again?"

"Court, my grandfather." Sigh. "Court was the tough one."

"Was I too tough, son?"

"No!" He looked at the man incredulously, "No dad, it was just right. You know, different worlds, cultures. I guess different parenting. It took me a little while to figure things out after the battle. Especially after....hm, at least I got to see them again for a few minutes, whatever our past was. But yeah, all of you were fine. I have no grudges." Civil picked up the rope and started working with it.

Daniel looked down at the winged pony. He was using his hooves and mouth to tie a loop on the end of a rope. The plan was to anchor the end high enough on the tree to direct its fall, but not too high that it snapped the treetop and caused the rest of the trunk to fall in the wrong direction.

"They're family, son. Just glossing over the last moments you had with them won't make up for whatever happened between you before that, and something DID happen. That I can figure out."

Civil looked up quietly at his human dad. With the pony's jaw clenched like that, it didn't appear to Daniel that he was ready to talk yet. As stubborn as his human father ever was, the man mused to himself.

"Alright, you don't have to talk about it now. That whole 'mom left when I was young' bit, that has to do with your split from the family, I know that much. Long before this curse business."

This time the pegasus looked away. He contemplated telling what he really knew. That was more painful. So he told his living father what he had told everyone else all these years, "All I know is she left when I was a colt, and before I left home one day, my father and grandfather were talking about it when they thought I wasn't around. I just happened to overhear stuff." A hoof started digging in the dirt.

"Uh huh. You left because of what you heard. You didn't just up and leave one day later on."

Silence.

After a heavy sigh, Daniel wiped sweat off his face, bent down and gathered another roll of rope. "Okay, so you didn't like what they said. I'm sorry they're gone, if it's all the same with you. Maybe your mother is here on Earth-"

"Doubt it." With that, Civil hopped into the air and hovered, slowly rising so as not to tangle the rope as it unfurled from its pile. Daniel knew he should let the issue go...yet...he was Daniel. And he felt obligated to make up for parenting that should have happened a long time ago, portals and twenty five four score be damned.

"Well until you find her, Jason, you have family here. Whatever you need. You have relatives up and down the east coast, if you think about it."

His son looked back down, the rope dangling from his mouth. Civil did want to talk. Just not yet. Today had been tough enough. He simply wanted to do some honest labor and work off the stress that had been slowly building. Years building, it would seem. There was so much left to do, and not just chores with his father.

His father. Daniel stared up at him, hand shielding the sun from his eyes.

Civil dropped the rope and swooped down, surprising Daniel with a firm hug. He whispered, "I know, dad. And I appreciate it all. You can't possibly know how much. Be patient, that's all I need right now."

"I can do that," he replied as he hugged back. A small snort from Civil made him roll his eyes and ammend, "I can TRY to do that."

==========

The phone hung there over Civil, who had come in for the day and was now relaxing on the couch, AFTER having taken a short shower. Smelly ponies and all that, at least according to his human mother.

It was later in the day. A certain said mother had opted to make dinner instead of going out. Motherly pride, Civil figured. And the call had been made. But the topic of curses had not been broached yet.

"She really wants to talk to you."

One eye opened up, "Did you tell her about me?"

"No, I figured you could do that."

Said eye squinted shut, "Arg, no, mom! I can't...I don't want to talk to her right now. She has several weeks to go before we even know anything."

She put her hands on her hips and took on the classic annoyed parent persona. "You are laying around on the couch. What is it you are doing that is so important not to talk to your sister, who you HAVEN'T spoken to in over three years?" Guilt trip, the mother's weapon of choice.

"Oh, I dunno, how about being a pony?" Sarcasm, Civil's weapon of choice.

"She won't care about that. Remember, we're supposed to warn her, right?" For the greater good. Desperation's weapon of choice. Civil sat up with a groan, musing there were too many weapons in this conversation with zero choices.

"....mom...this is my sister we are talking about," he tried to reason. "She'll take it the wrong way. Wait, WARN her? Like it's a bad thing?" He knew he was awfully prickly about his change. Though he probably shouldn't be so short with her. It was a significant change for her, too.

"You know I didn't mean it that way. Just that she might...you know, have to make some major changes in her lifestyle." She held the phone out to him again. He eyed it like a poisonous snake.

"Yeah, like no more shopping for clothes."

"Oh! I hadn't thought of that." His mother actually looked happy. Were all those grueling shopping trips in the past with her daughter that painful? He always opted to stay home back then. "Still, I doubt she will stress about it. She always did love unicorns and horses. In fact, she'll probably want to come see you in person."

"....."

"In pony."

Groan. "I'm not talking to her." Civil rolled over, away from her.

"Well she's on hold and she won't wait forever-" The phone buzzed in Karen's hand. "Hold on....wait. Oh, she's switching to Face Time." Caught in alarm, Civil looked back at his mother, only to find the phone right in front of him with a camera view of his sister grinning.

"No! Absolutely not! Don't you dare-...hey Renee, how are you?" Sitting up, all he could do was smile. A big ol pony smile.

"HAHAHAHAahahahah that mask is AWESOME! Where did you get that, did you make that!?!"

She had absolutely no clue.

Guiltily, he shook his head, "No...actually, my mom made it." This earned a frown from his mother, knowing full well he meant biologically made, but now was not the time to be playing word games, Karen's obvious look messaged. He ignored it completely.

"OUR mom??? no way!"

He shrugged at the phone, "Well you are half right. MY mom, actually." His sister only looked confused for a second, then shrugged back. Karen bit her lip in disapproval.

"Yah whatever. So anyway, take it off, I want to see my bro, bitch!

Blinking, he responded, "You're the female, bitchzilla."

"Fucker." Karen stood there, shocked at the use of language, but not entirely surprised. These two went at it constantly like this.

Readjusting his sitting position, he flexed his shoulders. "Oh, not pulling any punches today, are we?"

"NEVER!!! hahahahaha!" She dropped the smile all of a sudden. "No seriously, take it off."

Ear twitched. Muzzle wrinkled.

"That. Is. Fucking. COOOOL! Ok alright already, you have a wicked mask, now take it off! Come on, take it off take it off take it off!" She was getting playful again, and a bit hyper.

He held the phone away from his face. "Mom, she's not listening."

"Ok dear, let me hold the phone and show the rest of you." She tried to get his body in view. Civil winced and involuntarily pulled his limbs close to himself, embarrassed.

Renee was tilting her head back and forth in time to her words, eyes closed, "take it off take it off take it off-"

"Renee!" Civil yelled, "Dammit you deaf ho, shut up already!"

"Whaaat!? Sheesh you're no fun. Oh, someone else is holding the phone. Hahahah get it? Hold the phone.....fuuuuck.....hold.....The......PHONE!!!! OMYGOD YER A PONY OMYGOD OMYGOD OMYGOD!!!" This continued for a good half minute, the image on the other end jostling all over the place, probably as Renee jostled all over wherever she was.

Somewhere during a pause for breath, Civil got in, "I'm going upstairs to my old room. Mom, you can tell her whatever. bye." He slid off the couch and shambled up the staircase, not bothering to listen to the rest of the exchange.

Karen held the phone to her ear after she clicked on its surface, "Renee, Renee.....I've switched off Face Time....because he's not here, he's upstairs......because I don't want you looking at me either!...he's very touchy about his, um, situation.....yes i know......yes, just like his thumb sucking.......uh huh......mmmmm that's not a good idea....hrm...I really don't think that it would... okay....yes, I'll tell him.....I love you too. goodbye." She hung up and paused for a few seconds, eyes looking off to the side. She called out, "Dear?.......Jason?"

A distant, "what."

"....Renee is flying in this weekend."

"@!#$%@#%^#" A thud resonated through the house.

Looking miffed, she started with, "If that's a hole in the wall-"

"Yeah yeah....where's the goddamn putty and spackling knife?"

***

The front door opened into a silent house. The matron of the residence, Karen, stepped in lightly and glanced around, listening more than looking. No television. Daniel must be organizing the wood left over from the downed tree.

It had been a couple of days since Jason's return. She frowned to herself. This was supposed to be a happy time, the family finally getting together after so many years apart. True, it was just a couple for Jason...Civil, she corrected herself. Quite a few more for Renee. And as for her-

"Soooooooo! where is he?!" The younger lady burst into the house, dragging a much-too-stuffed suitcase.

Karen frowned with disapproval as her daughter made her presence known to the world. Renee had long curly brown hair, much like her mother before she started losing it after Renee's birth. It was a family joke that Renee stole her mother's hair, or at least the vibrancy. Renee was also moderately tall, about even with her brother. Karen tsked to herself. About even with Civil BEFORE the change. Which reminded her.

"He might be hiding upstairs." Her daughter's rolling eyes made her raise a hand, "He's really sensitive about it, especially with family members knowing. We still haven't told anybody yet. Well, other than you." The slight stiffening before it was covered up was all a mother needed to know everything. Her frown depeened, hand lowering, "Please tell me you didn't spread the word."

Renee pursed her lips and continued into the living room, avoiding her gaze. "Oh mom, I can keep a secret when I have to."

"..."

"I swear I didn't tell anybody."

"..." A very slow closing of the front door was all it took. Renee all but sang like a canary from mother's guilt.

She came back into the hallway, waving her hands, "Fine, I told my friend at school, but nobody from our family knows him, so it's not like he can tell anybody important."

"That guy you are dating." She clicked the front door locked. It had taken years for Karen to perfect the language of sounds without ever using a single word. So much for a Master's degree in linguistics.

Renee stared at the ceiling petulantly as she moaned, "Yeeees mom, the 'guy I'm dating'. Man, you act like that's a bad thing. Oh, nevermind this stuff, I want to see him! Where is he? In his room?" And just like that, all that careful attention to non-verbal cues went out the window. Karen shook her head ruefully.

"I'm not going up there. If anything happens, that's on you." Walking into the kitchen, she asided to her daughter, "Supper will be ready soon. BE NICE to him, okay?"

A blown raspberry was all she got for her warning, "Spbpt. Oh, you're no fun. Hay munch! I'm coming upstairs!"

***

He had heard the whole conversation. How could he not? Sound carried through the house, even without his sensitive hearing. And tucked away like this, it was almost a cacophony of noise for him to endure, but endure it he did. He was not moving a muscle. His sister's tromping up the stairs softened to almost noiseless thuds, yet the tremors in the floorboards gave her away when she slowly moved down the hallway. She paused at each doorway, checking to see if he was just sitting somewhere, or actually hiding. The closer she got to her bedroom, the more her smile widened. Obviously he was hiding. But where could he be?

He heard her breathing quicken when she entered her room.

Something was a bit off, she thought to herself. Most everything was in its place, the posters, the stationary, the books on the bookcase, her plethora of stuffed animals, the scent...

Renee straightened, sniffing the air. There it was, a hint of something, like the last time she was at a rodeo, or the Texas State Fair. A pony was here, or had been very recently. Moving quietly, she kneeled down and looked under the bed. Nothing but a spare mattress pushed under there. She made to get up when she spotted it. A single feather next to the bed, at the foot of her bookcase. Picking up the feather, she noted it was a large feather, one of the big ones on a wing of a bird, or say, a pegasus. White, with a blackened tip. She nearly giggled. Her tongue touched her teeth as she brushed her cheek with the feather. Very soft, and smelled like magic marker. Chuckling to herself, she turned around slowly, glancing at her many plush animals lying around the room. "Thankyou for the gift. A nice big white feather, to match a white winged pony, yes?"

Renee stepped to the center of the room and halted suddenly. Twisting around, she looked up at the top of the bookcase. She had forgotten to look up there until now, the feather causing her to notice the bookcase as more than just a backdrop. She had put plushies on top of it back in the day. Several large stuffed animals were there, such as a white tiger, several Easter bunnies she had collected, her favorite Minnie from Disney World purchased long ago by her father...and something else wedged behind them all, white fur and feathers peeking through here and there, along with one big eye watching her in deathly silence.

The feather twirling in her hand near a very toothy grin, she quipped, "Gotcha!"

The pile of animals exploded off the bookcase in every direction.

Karen downstairs heard a loud scream, several thumps along the upper floor, a flutter of wings whipping up the air. She stuck her head out of the kitchen doorway just in time to catch Civil landing in the foyer next to the staircase, from which part of the upper floor looked over.

"No Flying In The House! How many times do I...oh, I've never had to say that. Huh." She pulled back a little, her son staring at her, stunned. She shrugged, "New rule, NO FLYING!" A curt nod from him was all she needed and she went back into the kitchen. Civil trotted by his father, who had come in from the backyard and sat down in his LazyBoy chair after Renee had gone upstairs.

"Heard you two saying hi to each other. How was it?"

"Quick."

"Sounded like it. Guess when she's ready, she'll come back down and say hello to her old man."

Climbing up onto the couch, Civil glanced at his father, "You don't look THAT old. Just grayer."

"Thanks," his father snorted.

"Sure thing," the winged son replied.

They had a few seconds of peace before Renee came running down the stairs, one hand on the back of her head and an angry glare on the front. Before she could get close to Civil and make good on the intent she was all but broadcasting, her farher raised an index finger, never looking away from the TV, "No fighting in this house."

"He kicked me! Here!" She tapped the spot for emphasis, wincing after, but still glaring daggers at Civil.

"And you did absolutely nothing to him?"

"...I may have....mmm'd his mmm."

Daniel looked at her, "Say that again, dear."

Seeing the focus was on her, she dropped her glare for a more refined sullen expression. Her hand came down and she crossed her arms. "I may have pulled.....his tail. When he tried to fly over me."

Daniel glanced at the other party and received a single nod. Then he regarded his daughter again, before going back to watching his show. "Bleeding?"

Renee sniffed and gave up trying to play the victim. She knew she'd lost this round. "No dad. I don't need to go to the hospital." A rather sharp clatter of a pot came from the kitchen and Renee leaned back to glare into the kitchen, "AGAIN."

"I didn't say anything," Karen replied quickly. When Renee looked back at her brother, Civil was insanely focused on the TV, which had settled on some court show. Renee made to say something, but was interrupted by her father.

"That's good. Would have had to repaint in there if he had did you like that tree out back." A shocked and silent Renee caused her father to look up. "Oh yeah. Go take a look." He nudged his head to the yard. Renee chose to go through the kitchen, which had two openings to the living room, more to not go near Civil, at least for the moment.

She passed her mother on the way, holding up a hand while muttering, "I can FEEL the look, please." Karen shrugged and went back to cooking, only breathing 'told you so' when she was sure Renee couldn't hear her.

Looking out into the yard, she saw several tree limbs piled up, along with a sizable trunk and stump laying on its side near a big crater. Roots were sticking up from the ground. She glanced around the grass, but didn't see any of it torn up by heavy vehicles.

"That was Civil's work," Daniel explained, having been able to see her by the window from his chair. "He might look cute now, but those legs of his are no joke. Once the trunk was down, he started kicking that stump out. 'Bucked it up good.' That the saying?"

"Yessir. An earth pony saying."

Daniel grinned and nodded, "Earth pony. Yep."

Civil couldn't help himself. He glanced at his father, "Eyup."

"Eyup?"

Nod, "Eyup."

His father nodded to himself. "Eyup. I like that."

Renee rolled her eyes at them both and went back to staring out at the stump, noting several places where something small and round had shattered parts of it. At length, she wandered into the living room, stopping near the pegasus. He looked up warily.

"Thankyou for not taking my head off."

He watched her for any sign of duplicity. She could be devious when she wanted. But no, she seemed sincere. "Sorry for messing up your room."

She tsked. "Don't be. You are cleaning it up, anyway."

And there it was. "Forget that, you started it!" He sat up.

"You went in there first!"

"Because you were going to...." He paused.

"Do what!?!" She was leaning down in his face now.

"I don't know! Something!"

Karen stepped out and interjected, "Dinner is ready. Wash up. Hands AND hooves. All of you." Daniel chose to get up and head to the master bedroom where he shared sinks with his wife.

Civil tried to reply and found himself wondering what he was yelling about in the first place. The announcement of dinner had him already salivating, the smells drifting in now forming images of food in his brain. So naturally it was difficult to even argue about some mess somewhere.

Renee was less driven by her stomach and chose that moment to grab a surprised pegasus around the neck in a tight embrace. Some would label it a 'glomp.' "Sibling Hug!" She yelled.

He tried to get out of it, though there wasn't much fight in him. He had missed her. He even said as much, human hair muffling his voice.

"Blah!" She responded. "I missed you more!" The rivalry never ended, he mused to himself and just sat there, letting her hug him.

After a time she stiffened slightly.

"Is that warm stuff on the back of my neck drool?!"

He muffled, "Maybe."

Author's Note

...i got nothin.

Equidae, Equus, Equestrian, E...eeeew.

"Eeew! What the hell!?!"

Karen set the table, ignoring the commotion in the living room. She found herself smiling, albeit slightly. Kids were home, dealing with life-changing issues, fighting. There were endless projects around the house needing to get done, not near enough money, and never EVER enough time to do any of it.

Her smile increased. All was normal, something that had not been in their household for a very long time. She paused for a second, then shrugged inwardly, sighing. If her daughter should end up like Jason, she could live with that, too.

The very same person stormed into the kitchen and proceeded to grab a wad of paper towels. Once satisfied she had enough, Renee vigorously wiped the back of her neck and hair. She even twisted her shirt around to brush it dry. Karen glanced up from the silverware drawer. "Issues?"

A very miffed sibling growled back, "Your 'son' has a drooling problem."

"Yes. We noticed that, around meal times mostly." She laid the last fork down at Jason's seat. Then she moved it to the left of the plate. Even with velcro assistance, he was still left handed. Hooved.

Renee's hair wiping stopped. "You knew and you didn't tell me?"

Her mother raised an eyebrow. "Sorry. It's not like it was something to bring up during our glorious family reunion." She flipped one hand back and forth as she took on an air of high society. "Why hello, Mother. Hello faithful daughter. How are you? I am well. You? Couldn't be better. How is Father? He is fine. How is Brother? Oh him, you know, back from the war, lost his other family. Oh by the way, he drools." Karen smiled sweetly.

Renee gave her a deadpanned looked before muttering, "Don't quit your day job." She wandered over to her seat and sat down, finishing up her cleaning.

Smiling ruefully, Karen shrugged and retrieved the pots of food from the stove, placed them on the table and sat down. Regarding Renee thoughtfully, Karen said, "Yes, you are better at melodrama than I."

"Am not!"

"Methinks she protests too much," Daniel interjected, taking his seat at the head of the table. He took in a deep breath. "Ah, good ol' shrimp creole."

Civil hopped into his seat and wiped his chin on the hand towel his mother had placed there. "My favorite!"

Everyone smiled and began filling their plates with rice and shrimp bathed in a nice orange-red sauce. Tony's Chachere's creole seasoning tickled noses and tastebuds. Except for Renee.

She asked disgustedly, "Shrimp? Mom, I'm allergic to fish."

Karen put her fork down and addressed her daughter pointedly, "Since when?"

"Since I don't like fish," was her huffy reply.

Her mother shook her head and spooned some rice and sauce onto her daughter's plate. "Lies. You used to eat baked fish and would ask for thirds."

"Because I had no say in what you cooked!" she replied in a huff. Picking up her fork, she picked at the food.

Daniel raised an eyebrow and peered at Renee's dish. "I don't see anything wrong with it."

Rolling her eyes, Renee resigned herself to the fact that unless she went out and got her own food, this was how it would be, as usual. She swallowed the first mouthful, not deigning to compliment her mother on the flavor, as it actually was quite savory. Of course, there were 'other' foods to pick at.

"Soooo, Jason. Jason right?" She stared at her brother...

...only for him to pause in glorious food consumption and reply, "Nope, Civil Patrol." He went back to eating.

"Huh. Whatev. Soooo, Jason, not that it's really good to see you again, and, I speak for all of us-" Her father snorted softly while her mother shook her head. Renee ignored them, "-why DID you come back to jolly ol' Earth? I mean, Equestria had to be one hundred times better than this dreary world."

Already the tension in the room started to rise. Karen understood mostly what was going on, because well, she was a mother. And she was nosy. Daniel was patient and figured Karen would eventually tell him everything. Renee had no scruples plowing into Civil's beeswax. Civil lowered his fork and gave Renee a level gaze. "Princess Celestia kicked me out of the Royal Guard and banned me to Earth. So I am here, to find a new job on your 'jolly old Earth.' Happy?" He went back to eating. Sort of. Now HE was the one picking at his food.

Renee sat back. She knew that something had happened, her mother's warnings on the way from the airport said that much. She also knew that he was sensitive about it, and yet, she was happy-go-lucky. All things worked out in the end. Even when people got irritated when she asked about them. Before Karen could say anything, Renee pushed ahead on her quest, "Well, don't you see? This is your big opportunity to start over, a blank slate, if you will!"

She smiled so brightly, like the morning sun, she never noticed the pale look her brother started to get. Which meant she continued right on with her thoughts. "I asked a friend who, creepily enough, is REALLY into Milp. And get this, mom, he's a HE! You should see his dorm room, plastic figures everywhere." Karen could only blink at the onslaught, her daughter oblivious to Civil's insecurities. "So anyway, he said all the ponies have this thing called a cutie-mark, like it's their destiny to do, whatever, is on their butt. The cool part, Jason, is you can choose anything you want before you get stamped! Be a dentist, or a doctor, or an anesthesiologist!"

Karen interjected, "Come now, Renee, those are all pursuits you were looking into at college. I'm sure there are plenty of things out there, for both of you to discover." She was trying to get the attention off of Civil, who by now had pulled his fork out of the velcro strap on his left foreleg and had merely sat back, hoping this torture would finally come to an end. His reaction didn't go unnoticed by his mother, so she continued. "By the way, are you sure a vacation to Ocean City is a good idea? What with your birthday in a couple of weeks, your father and I think it would be best if we all wait it out here, at our house." She paused, glancing away, then back at Renee, "And how did you get the money to purchase everyone First Class tickets?"

"We do?" Daniel asked, a surprised and disappointed look on his face.

Insert wife glare.

He mouthed the words 'first class tickets' to her. The glare deepened. He cleared his throat, "Yes, we believe it is best." Karen watched him carefully. "Us. We two." More staring. He threw up his hands, adding quickly, "Because of the better livestock laws here? What do you want me to say?! I could use a vacation."

Karen sighed, shaking her head. "Fine, don't listen to me. I just don't like this uncertainty, which is why-"

Her daughter's hand on her arm cut her off, With Renee leaning forward, "Which is why I should get my last hoorah in while I am human, right? My last time to walk on the sand, feel it squish through my toes, last time to tan before I have fur. Last time to swim in the ocean."

Sitting there and listening to her go on, he could see why she was enthusiastic to go on vacation so close to her birthday. As it was, she was always hailed as a Christmas baby, born on the 25th. At least two full weeks before they should worry about her, IF there was anything to worry about. Just that he felt there were a few errors in her assumptions.

"You can still feel the sand through your hooves, and get a tan...and for the record, I swam a lot in the ocean near my home. It was close to Mareland, a lighthouse overlooking long beaches, with plenty of SQUISHY sand." His voice was heavy with sarcasm. "Being a pony is not all that different. You make it sound like you'll be crippled." He waited for her response.

She merely shrugged and said nothing.

Wow. Civil gritted his teeth and shook his head to himself. Typical.

Renee turned to Karen. "As for how I got the tickets, my private internship has a very robust program. I won't go into the details, but bonus time at the end of the year is enough for these tickets, so chill with the costs, I got it covered. Right now we need to find Jason his calling. I mean, obviously the military didn't work out, like, in TWO worlds. You didn't seem very happy in the Air Force. Are you happier now, as a pony?"

His mouth opened and closed in response while his brain reeled. Was it that simple? Being happy was all there was to it? No, he thought to himself, that was too selfish. Sure, he'd made choices that benefited him now and again, but doing what you were destined to do, to be who you wanted to be, it took more than mere happiness to point the way. His logical side lashed out at the absurdity of the question. Of course it wasn't that simple! He had also lost the position of an aviator in the strongest military branch the world has ever known (suckit Marines), lost a steady income and retirement benefits, though he was somewhat grateful they threw him a bone by way of the consultation contract. Tartarus, he had even lost his position in the vaunted Royal Guard, the prestige and honor of which he knew his sister had no clue about. He came back to the waking world when he noticed his sister was staring at him quietly.

"Renee, being a pony isn't a job."

Daniel quipped, "It's not just a job, it's an adventure!" A look from his wife wiped the smirk off his face.

"Danny, isn't that the Navy saying?"

"It is, but the 'An Army of One' didn't quite fit the conversation, so I jumped branches."

Renee grinned, turning to her dad, "How about, 'An Army of Pwn,' " her eyes twinkling.

He grinned back, replying in a low voice, "Pwny." They both started cracking up.

Despite the antics of the two grownup children to her left, she patted Civil on his foreleg. "Oh God, save us." She noted he had already pushed his dish away. This was not going well.

"The army would have treated your change better, Jason," Daniel finally got out after his fit of chuckles. Renee was wiping her eyes, she was laughing so hard. "Did you know the Army has always maintained-"

"ACK! Ai yai yai don't you dare tell me about cavalry, dad! I get it, I look like a horse, but I'm NOT!" Civil had planted both hooves on the table. Karen was quick enough to have pulled her hand back so it wouldn't get stepped on. Daniel, for his part, had taken on a more serious look. Granted he didn't appreciate being yelled at in his own house, let alone at the table on which he provided food for his family. Still, he was just caught making fun of his son, for which there was a tinge of guilt needling its way through him. He would let this one pass.

"Look, son. All I'm saying is we know how to handle such..." At a loss, he waved his hand at Civil, "...things, per se." When Civil didn't respond, he continued with, "I mean, they have farriers, just saying." He raised his hand in defense of his statement.

Civil curled up in his seat and looked out into the yard, "Shoot me now."

A gasp from his mother made him wince, its own reprimand for saying such a thing. "Jason! Don't talk like that. After your brother...well, we love you no matter what. No matter what, do you understand me?!" He wanted to look at her, but he didn't have the mettle for it. He was still too angry with his sister, his father now, and Celestia forbid his mother soon, the one person seemingly looking out for his well being.

So he replied, "I'm not looking for love right now..."

There was a moment's pause where everyone should have been reflecting on what was said so far, if only one had enough sense to keep her mouth shut.

"♪ Wookin puh nub in aw duh wong paces...wookin puh nub... ♪" With that, it was off to the races with Miss Giggles and Mister Chuckles, galloping at a laugh.

Civil growled, "I can't have a meaningful conversation with any of you people." He pushed his seat back from the table, but a hand held up by his mother gave him pause.

"Wait dear, they're just teasing, they don't mean anything by it. DO THEY?" She eyed them warily.

Daniel was the first to recover. "I'm sorry, Jason, I'm just goofin on ya. I can't help it. You are a walking gold mine. I have to get my shots in before it dries up." He suppressed another chuckle.

"Very mature, Danny," Karen replied. It was not a compliment.

Renee however, attempted to make up for it. Attempted. "Well, mom, whatever he's tried so far hasn't worked, obviously. Otherwise he'd have a really radical tattoo stamped on his rear. Just think about it, brother, your whole life is ahead of you, unknown and ready to be discovered, a blank slate you can write the poem of your life-" She was interrupted by Civil hopping down from his chair and rapidly trotting out of the kitchen, up the stairs and down the hallway to his room. His door slammed shut, icing on the tension cake. Renee raised an eyebrow, "What did I say?"

Karen said, "God has saddled me with children." She pointed a finger at them before they could respond and muttered, "Don't you DARE." Then she looked at Renee. "You called him a blank slate. That's like calling a mentally handicapped person a retard. It's a thing among his people, he told us."

"I still have to patch that hole in the fence, last time I used the word 'blank' around him." Daniel smiled weakly, trying to help. A glower from Karen indicated he hadn't.

Renee threw her hands up, "Oh come on, NOW you tell me!?" She tapped the table, "See, this is information I need to know before I give advice and motivational speeches!"

"From the airport to the driveway, all you wanted to talk about was the trip you had planned, and the First Class tickets you had purchased for us, and all the things you two would be doing together. Did it not factor into your plans that he might have special needs too?" She had asked this a little too loud in her exasperation. A thump from upstairs made Karen squint her eyes shut. "Dammit, now you have me saying the wrong things." Hissing to herself, she got up and started clearing the table. She reached over for Civil's plate and put it in the microwave to keep it warm, not bothering to be careful. The plate clattered inside and she slammed the door shut. She rarely banged pots and dishes, and only when she was pissed.

Daniel swallowed and found something very interesting in his plate. Renee stared at her in bewilderment.

Karen then leveled a gaze at her, "For the record, and this also means no repeating it...he was not banned from that other world, and I don't think he was kicked out of the Royal Guard, either, from the way the letter read."

"What letter?" Renee and Daniel responded in unison.

Karen shushed them and pointed at the stairwell. She regarded them for a moment, then said quietly, "I was going through his things the other day, seeing if he had any dirty laundry. Yes, I know, he's a pony and doesn't wear much these days, but I've seen pictures online where some do...wear stuff. Weird stuff. Anyway, I came across a rolled up piece of paper, parchment, actually. It was really nice quality, the kind you'd find at a high end stationary store. The seal was already broken so I assumed he had read it already, so I peeked at it, and read some things. You know, it was signed by their princess, the ruler of Equestria, apparently. Her name is Celestia. She wrote that Civil was not banned. He has some things to figure out here." She paused, gauging how Renee was taking it. She added, "Do not repeat this to him."

A look of surprise and annoyance was Renee's response. "Why not? Its his letter, didn't he read it?"

Karen shook her head, "No, he didn't. I asked him about it and he said he was waiting until the right time to read it, spiritual guidance I think he mentioned. It was addressed to some other pony on his return, to help him get back on his feet, I suppose. I wouldn't mind thanking her if I ever get the chance. He's done nothing but praise this Irony person since he got home. Anyway, the note specifically talked about what he was meant to do. His destiny, as you so eloquently pointed out before he lost his appetite."

"I'll go talk to him," Renee said quickly, wiping her mouth with the napkin and making to get up.

"No, you've done enough for one day. I'll go speak to him. You can clean up the rest of the dishes." With that, her mother walked out of the kitchen.

Renee sat there for a minute, then furrowed her brow. "Um, how did this go from me giving my brother a pep talk to me getting punished with chores?"

Her father could only shrug and continue eating, "Don't take mine, I'm not done yet." That earned a rolling of the eyes which he pointedly ignored. His wife did make good food and it wasn't going to waste tonight.

***

A soft knock came from the doorway of his room. He knew who it was, the one person in his family that respected his privacy and had the unmitigated forethought to knock, in her own house no less. He still stayed facing away from her on his bed, curled up in a tight ball.

His room had kites adorning the walls, stunt kites mostly, and a few anime items like a wall scroll, an old Sailor Moon calendar, or artwork friends had made for him years ago. He even had a half-built balsa wood plane hanging up, a trophy of unfinished dreams to remind him to not sit on his laurels.

A shift on the mattress indicated she had sat down next to him. With his large eyes and his head shape, even facing away from her she could still see he'd been crying. She hated to see him cry, mostly because he rarely cried, so when it happened it was a big deal. This topic was really hurting him. "Honey, your sister, she was only trying to help. I hope you know that."

"I'm a failure, mom. All she did was point it out for me to hear. I can't deny anything she said. I'm not good for anything." His voice broke slightly. Hoarse, Karen thought to herself, and regretted thinking of humor at a time like this. He snuffled and asked, "Did you know a pegasus is supposed to manipulate clouds? Zip around in the sky, collect pockets of water vapor and push it all together. They can make buildings out of the stuff. Furniture...even some functioning machines if your specialty is weather management. It's all I can do to get lightning to come out. Forget about getting a job, I can't even do pegasus stuff well." A sob wracked him, the wing he wasn't laying on shuddered, feathers all out of alignment.

Karen took this opportunity to start smoothing them out. She was no expert at it, but he had shown her how to do it a few days ago, in case he got injured and wasn't able to take care of himself during the healing period. "Let's look at some things you CAN do well. I watched an episode and I noticed pony names reflect what they do. For instance, part of your name is Patrol, so maybe that has something to do with the military?"

"Mom, I think I'm done with the military." He wiped his nose and continued, "You heard her. I suck at the military."

"Jason..." She paused and sighed. "Civil. I need to start respecting your origins and call you by your true name now." She straightened up and folded her hands together. "Civil, listen to me. Have you ever had any official files, bad paperwork or punishments while you were in EITHER military?"

He finally turned his head to her and thought to himself. Then he replied, "...no. Just that, I didn't fit in. I remember always aggravating my superiors...heh, in BOTH militaries." He smiled weakly and continued, "When I first arrived at Pensacola, they said I wasn't an 'alpha personality' whatever that shit is supposed to mean." He looked like he had a bitter taste in his mouth, his nose scrunching up.

"Language dear."

"Sorry." He rolled over toward her, his other unkempt wing now on top. He wasn't asking her to do anything, yet she obliged anyway and started working on it, too.

"So you didn't fit in. If we were being honest, you never truly fit in to a lot of groups or organizations, the childhood I remember of you. I also recall you did very well in fencing, as did quite a few others, and they didn't fit in elsewhere."

He snorted and said, "Misfit Island?"

"Hm...probably not that bad, Civil. At least you don't have a giant yeti trying to eat you." He rolled his eyes. "Don't give me that look. You are Civil Patrol. You are my son, and your are someone else I never got to know until now, and both of you I intend to help, okay?"

"Yes, mom." He wiped his nose with a hoof. She smiled and continued with fixing up his wing, though it was mostly done by now. He never let them get too far out of whack so it took little work to fix each day. She was just trying to keep her hands busy.

"Now then, why did you join the military in the first place?"

He sighed, "I...guess I like the regimented structure. I like following the rules, and I like when others follow the rules. In the beginning it felt good defending the country against the bad guy. Now though, after a few wars, both here and Equestria, I guess I'm just tired of being used as a soldier. Told where to go, do this, do that, never allowed to ask questions. I used to know what I was fighting for. Now I'm lost." He glanced at the kites on his wall, all flown back when his family used to go vacationing at the beach up north. "Anyway, I'm done with the military."

"Alright, then you are done with the military. We can still explore other things that you like, or what makes you, you."

"Like what?" He slowly pulled his wing back to him and she put her hands in her lap.

"First off, your name. Civil Patrol. It really does sound like a military thing, but you are done with the military. Civil...civil...have you thought about civil service?" Her face lit up with the idea.

Civil furrowed his brow, "My great aunt? She passed away long ago, why would I think about her?"

His mother opened her mouth, closed it, then made her neck pop a few times, "Nevermind. I can see this is going to be a bit more involved. In any case, Renee didn't mean any harm. She was trying to help you be happy, if nothing else. She just doesn't have a filter."

"Oh she has a filter," he snorted. Civil pulled himself up into a sitting position. "She just chooses not to use it."

"Funny, that sounds like you, too." She reached out and smoothed the fur under his eyes, trying to dry his face a little bit. "In a weird way, you both are so very alike. Actually it's quite amazing."

He tilted his head. "Why would it be amazing? We are brother and sister. Even if I wasn't always a human, we were born by the same parents at some point. She is my sister." He got those last words out with a touch of pride to them.

Karen watched him for a few seconds, then nodded, "Yes, she is your sister. And you are her straight as an arrow brother." After taking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly, she stood. "Anyway, don't let this get you down." She walked back to the doorway and paused, turning to him.

"By the way, you should pack for a week long trip. Your generous sister is flying us all up to Ocean City, Maryland, to the condo. In two days, apparently. When we were on the phone earlier and you stormed off, she wanted to know if my week was clear, and I foolishly said yes. So these are the fruits of my gullibility. We're all First Class, too. I don't know what kind of intern job she has, but I've never heard one pay out BEFORE you graduated college."

The pegasus started laughing, a nice rolling laugh on the bed that threatened to undue all the work his mother did on his wings.

Her mouth quirked in curiousity. She asked, "What's so funny?"

He waved his wings at her while his head hung off the bed upside down. "Should we tell her now, or later when we are at the airport?" He pointed at his bags and electronic gear. "I can get there in half the time just skipping the airport fiasco. Less if I really push it!"

She smiled and laughed silently. After a few seconds she got a concerned look. "It would be nice to tell her now. Let her try and recycle the ticket, maybe?"

Civil gave an upside down nod. "Kay. You can tell her. I need some alone time, maybe a nap." His mother nodded and walked out into the hallway. He gave himself a full stretch of all his limbs and then pulled himself under the covers. He drifted off to sleep, listening to his father laughing downstairs and his sister complaining about how nobody told her, yet again, information she needed to know BEFORE purchasing First Class tickets on a plane so soon to the departure date. He smiled.

***

The next day went by pretty quickly. His parents prepared the house for their week-long absence, things like throwing out old food or drinking milk that would spoil during that time, finishing up laundry, running the dishwasher, making sure plants had their water reservoirs filled.

Civil made an effort to avoid his sister, who still seemed to have a vested interest in whatever he was doing. Currently she kept trying to talk to him while he was on the phone. It got to the point where he had to get out of the house and fly up to the roof. His ears still picked up her swearing and decries of unfairness. Anybody else might have been put out at having to do that to avoid their sister, but Civil saw it as an opportunity to fly, if only for a few seconds. He blew a raspberry at her while she yelled from the front yard, and then he completely ignored her while he listened for the phone at the other end to pick up. It went to voicemail. He frowned and rang it again. This time it picked up.

"Oi, hello? Who's this?" Brooklyn accent all the way.

Civil responded, "Hey, Uncle Joey?"

"Yeah, this is Joey. Who's uncle am I."

"That would be a monkey's uncle, sir."

The man laughed, "Hahhah. Guess I walked into that one. Now, seriously, who are you? I've got enough women in my life and I don't need anymore sold to me, even if they are cute Russian models."

That almost tripped up the pegasus, but he was able to say, "J-jason. It's Jason. My voice might be a little different but-"

"JASON!" Civil had to hold the phone away from his head as his uncle practically yelled into it, "I heard you got back! How is my number one winged nephew?!!"

Civil's eyes narrowed. Pointedly watching his sister stalk the front yard as though she were about to climb up, he said very loudly, "Who told you I had wings?" Renee hesitated...and then stepped inside rather quickly.

"What, you don't have wings?" This time it was quieter.

He held the phone closer and lowered his voice as well, "No, I do. I mean who told you? It was a secret."

There was a pause. Then, "I wasn't supposed to know? Nobody told me."

"...Uncle Joey, you are a terrible liar."

"Yah. Damn proud of it, too."

"...."

His uncle sounded slightly worried as he said, "Look, don't ask me no questions, I won't tell you no lies." An old line Civil had heard him use PLENTY of times in the past.

"Double negative. Spill it, who? Renee?"

"Damn you're good."

A series of English and old Equestrian (don't ask) swear words and phrases came out of Civil's mouth, the likes of which impressed even his uncle, and Joey knew quite a few in multiple languages since he flew around the world frequently.

When Civil calmed down, Joey said, "I never said who, so don't spread any lies about me. Hey, Jason, you there?" When Civil acknowledged he was, Joey continued, "Anyway, watcha need, Champ?"

"We are apparently heading up to the family condo tomorrow."

"Yep, Renee already blocked off the week, not like anybody was using it this month anyway. I tell you what, though, the weather has been something else. I was contemplating taking my peeps there. That's when she mentioned...you know." A split second pause, followed by, "Oh shit. Remember, I never said anything!"

Civil shook his head, even though his uncle couldn't see him. "Yeah. Mum's the word. Look, they were going to take a plane up. Flight 1776. I was wondering, since you fly for the same company, if you could find out who the pilot is, ask him for a favor."

"For you, sport, anything. Should be early enough so I won't break their crew rest. What do you have in mind?"

Civil sat down and pulled out his datapad. "I already reviewed FAA regs, so this is what I want to do...."

***

At it again. Same old revenge sequence. Or was it a futile attempt to change history? No matter, this new twist was slightly entertaining. Instead of the two unicorn foals, there was a young human woman standing behind Civil as he faced off with Dischord. The pegasus was even more decked out in gear this time, sporting full steel barding with razor edges and spike accents all across the surfaces. His wings were also edged in wingblades. Granted Civil hadn't had much training in Aerial Close/Direct Combat, or AC/DC as it was known, let alone some of the more advanced forms, but he did know a few. Against this opponent, It's A Long Way To The Top was his best option, given how tall his enemy was.

The observer watched in mild amusement while the pegasus threw himself up into the air, repeatedly bashing and cutting into the draconequus, until the creature was a pile of small body parts. The woman ran up to the pegasus and hugged him, despite all the sharp armor. Out of shock, Civil turned around and exclaimed, "Renee! Be careful, the spikes!" In the next instant, the armor was gone and he was hugging her, such was the way of the dream world. The observer snorted to itself, dismissing such emotional drivel. Then it felt a shadow, pressing closer. That dark one was approaching again. Sighing, it pulled away from whence it was summoned. Perhaps next time things would be more, amicable, it thought to itself, and mentally prepared itself for what was to come when it awoke from its nap.

***

Civil jerked awake and murmured, "Renee, mm, the spikes!"

The Berringer family were in their four-door sedan. Normally it would be a test to get all the baggage into the trunk. With Civil's vacationing needs all in his saddlebags, there was a lot more room for the other suitcases. It was only for a week, so they were at three suitcases and a couple of carryons. It was an hour to the airport, so Civil figured he'd put in a nice nap, as all wholesome pegasi do when stuck in once place. Naturally, Renee was there to pick up the conversation they were having before he had pointedly drifted off to sleep halfway in the middle of it.

"There's more than one Spike? I looked up the cast, there's only one Spike."

"What?" He opened blurry eyes, shaking the last vestiges of the dream from his brain.

"You said..." She frowned slightly, then shook her head. "Nevermind. I was asking you about Equestrians, if they were really like the cartoon, or were they more like the animals here, only intelligent? For instance, you would be listed under the family of Equidae, tribe Equini, and genus Equus. But you are also Equestrian, the planet. Is it a horse planet?"

Civil stared at his sister, rubbing his face with his hooves. He started going crosseyed at the terms she was using.

She blinked back at him and grinned, quipping, "Earth to Equestria, anybody home?" That snapped him out of it. He scowled at her.

"My 'tribe' is pegasus. Beyond that, how should I know?! I just woke up, I don't feel like having another high school biology class." He turned his head away from her and looked out the window of the moving car. He was starting to see slow moving jets in the sky. They were getting close to the airport.

Renee frowned and stared ahead. "Oh, you're no fun. When I heard you changed..." She paused, snorting to herself in thought. "Herd, hah! Anywho, when you changed, I thought you'd be, less you, you know? I swear you're more of a stick in the mud than before."

He flattened his ears, a single wing twitching. Before he could answer, his mother asked from the front passenger seat, "Don't you two ever let up?"

They answered in unison, "No!" then looked at each other, startled.

Civil recovered first and said, "Becoming a pony isn't about dancing around, singing songs and acting like I just smoked drugs and can talk to plants."

"CAN ponies talk to plants?" she interjected as soon as he said plants.

He opened his mouth to retort, then paused. There were actually some ponies that could. Most earth ponies had some connection with nature, and a few unicorns through magic could actually....

"That's not the point! Just because a person changes into a pony, doesn't mean they...they lose themselves..." Oh. A cold feeling ran through him, a memory of what happened after he had changed. He HAD almost lost himself, living on his own, surviving. Being one with nature was not the phrase he would have used. The memories made him edgy and he looked back out the window. He muttered, "It just doesn't. I wish you could see it from my perspective."

A minute went by, nobody in the car speaking. Occasionally Karen would look back to check on them. It was a large sedan, but still small enough for everyone to hear each other, which meant any awkward avenues of conversation were shared by all.

It eventually sank into him what he said. He closed his eyes, but refused to take it back.

A hand gently brushed his flank. He flinched, not from any actual sensation beyond the physical pressure of the hand. Certainly not from touching a non-existent cutie-mark. He just wasn't expecting the gesture of affection from his normally annoying sister.

"I'm sorry. Perhaps in a few weeks, I might."

His head whipped around, concern evident on his face. "No, Renee, you don't want that. It does things to your mind, makes you doubt everything you ever did, every choice you ever had as a human...maybe even as a pony. Not to mention you lose your fingers, the need for clothes (which I KNOW you adore your wardrobe!), and...there's even the possibility you could turn into a male."

Her hand withdrew quickly. She sounded surprised when she asked, "Really? Like, full on equipment? Is that like a lesbian trapped in a man's body?"

Karen covered her mouth in shock. Daniel, still driving, remained firmly fixated on the road. Dear Lord don't involve me in this discussion, he thought to himself.

Renee's brother stared at her, still processing what he had just heard. Not only was she ignoring all the negatives he listed, she even said...a joke? When she continued to hold his gaze, he nodded and poked her shoulder with a hoof. "Yeah, sis, just keep that stuff to yourself."

She broke out laughing, rubbing her shoulder. That poke was a little harder than he intended. "In all honesty, I don't care," She replied. A look of incredulity from her brother made her shrug. "I really don't. I can't imagine what it was like being one of the first ones to change. Out there, all alone, spread out across the world. I mean...just suppose." He winced, his eyes glazing over a bit. She quickly raised her hand, "IF I happen to change, you all will be there, right? Then what really changes? Other than me?"

Civil refocused on her, but didn't want to say anything.

Their parents in the front glanced at each other. Daniel went back to concentrating on the road while Karen continued to watch her husband. She said softly, "You will be loved, as much as any of our children. We will protect you, as much as any parent can. We will not abandon you or push you away. That is as much as any parent SHOULD do." Daniel reached over and squeezed her hand in response, simply nodding. Karen looked back at her children, eyes fierce with passion. "I dare any government agency to come take you from us. Either of you."

Renee and Civil smiled, eyes glistening, then looked at each other. Renee said, "See? Mom is okay with lesbians." Civil groaned. Karen shook her head and looked away, teeth clenched in annoyance.

Daniel said, "Hey, I'm okay with lesbians too!" Karen smacked his arm. Painfully.

***

Once the family found a long term parking spot in the garage deck, they pulled out their luggage and made their way into the terminal. It was your standard affair at DFW International. Drag your bags to a computer kiosk, print out luggage tags, print out boarding passes. Renee hesitated, counting the passes, until she remembered Civil was flying on his own. Her eyes slid over to see him staring at her, grinning. She smirked, "Shut it!" Tag the bags, give out the passes. Pointedly ignore Civil. At this point Renee had pretty much taken over the whole operation and everyone else was on autopilot.

While they waited in the slow line to reach the luggage scales and hand over their bags, there was a nearby couple behind them looking very agitated and tired. Their young daughter was crying and pleading not to go on the plane. "Please, don't make me get on that plane! I don't want to leave the ground! Don't take me up there!"

Civil eyed her curiously, but she hadn't noticed he was there, yet. Most of the crowd in the line had kept him hidden. She had on a nice aquamarine dress with white ribbon accents and lace, and a white bow in her long brunette hair. With the way the fabric warped and whorled, it reminded him of the sea, back in Equestria. She would look very adorable if she wasn't being so emotional, Civil thought to himself. He was about to put her out of his mind and turn away when her eyes noticed him ahead in the line. They went wide in shock, all vestiges of upsetness disappearing like dust on the wind.

They stared at each other until the people immediately behind Civil's family coughed quietly, signalling he was holding up the line. He immediately got up from his sitting position and trotted to catch up. As the line filled in behind him, he distinctly heard the girl's mother scoff to her husband with, "Are they really going to let that board a plane? I don't care what the rules are for service pets, they shouldn't be in the main cabin." The little girl was quick to defend him, though.

"But mommy, that's not a service pet. He can talk just like you and me, and they're intelligent! Oh! He's a pegasus, look at his wings." Her mother's stern look still remained, though she did raise a brow when she noticed his wings. Every woman was a little girl at one point in their lives. Perhaps she fancied flying horses back in the day.

Or...not. "They are meant to be outside, and there are bugs and diseases you can catch from animals that are outside. Don't go near it." The girl winced, knowing those were mean things to say to the average pony. The girl watched Civil to see his reaction.

His ears flattened back a little, but he wasn't as affected by the scathing remarks as others might have been, not these days. Given how he was initially treated during his change, this was some of the tamer things he's heard lately. He did manage a smile and shrugged to the girl. She wanted to say something, but her mother nearby put a hand on her shoulder protectively. At that moment, Civil's family was called up to the next ticket agent. He did extend one wing and waved the tip at her. Her face lit up, and she even giggled. Her mother's frown completely disappeared, replaced with shock . As he turned away, he thought to himself the mother must not have actually believed he was intelligent until that moment.

Civil stepped over next to the luggage and sat, waiting patiently.

"Yes, you are checked in, three adults one-way to Newark, New Jersey. Three bags checked in....and...." She paused, noticing the pegasus sitting there. She glanced up and down at Civil, mildly surprised to finally see a pony in person. True, there had been emails and memos to be on the lookout for possible pony passengers and treat them as equals, but she just hadn't expected to see one as most were supposedly trying to leave their world. "Are...you looking to get on this flight today?"

He shook his head and replied, "Nope, got my own wings. And they are a lot more comfortable than coach." He winked, grinning.

The ticket agent smiled and nodded. "Alright then. Well, according to our system, Flight 1776 is on time and will be leaving in two hours. The duration will be three hours, twenty minutes to its destination, assuming there are no delays with boarding." She glanced at his family, then back at him. "You won't be able to go past the security checkpoint since you aren't boarding, so you'll need to say goodbye to them prior to that." All part of the new airline policies to make ponies feel accepted.

Karen retrieved their boarding passes, tickets and ID's from the agent and distributed them. She smiled to the agent and nodded. "Thankyou. I think those are the kindest words he's had from a perfect stranger."

"We do what we can to make sure you arrive safely and return as a satisfied customer." Karen thanked her again and they moved over to the steadily increasing line for the security checkpoint, all the while Civil would glance back at the young girl. Each time she was staring back at him, mesmerized.

His parents went through the first point where they simply check your boarding passes and started putting the handbags onto the conveyor belt. Renee hung behind and grinned at Civil. "Oi, Romeo, see something special?"

He scowled in exasperation and slowly moved outside of the line stanchions, ducking the fabric belt. Once off to the side, he replied, "No, I don't. She's underage, and that's gross humor, even for you, Renee."

In return, she smiled daintily as she showed her pass to the TSA worker. "I have no idea what you are talking about. I thought something shiny caught your eye and I was curious. How was I supposed to know it was some young girl in a cute dress with a white bow." With that she got the green light from the worker and moved further into the check point, purposely ignoring anything Civil 'might' have said.

He waited until his family members went through the scanner and were out of sight. He even waited a few more minutes, staring at the ground as the girl and her parents went by. It was his best course of action, given his cheeks burning with embarrassment. An ear swiveled when he heard a barely whispered 'bye bye Mister Pegasus' as she passed. His head hunched down lower.

After a few more minutes, he finally looked up. Most of the people around had started to get used to him and were not outright staring at him. Especially the TSA agent, though occasionally he would get a glance from him. Probably wondering what was in his saddlebags. Civil figured now was a good time for the phone call. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. It immediately picked up.

"Hello, Civil? Joey's nephew?"

"Yes sir. I was told to contact you as soon as I was at the security checkpoint. I'm at A21. We're still leaving from Terminal A, right?"

"Yep, everything is on time. The pilot's lounge is not that far from there. I'll be there in a minute, pilot's uniform, can't miss me."

Civil chuckled and said, "Yeah, I'll be the only winged pony, white and black, definitely can't miss me."

"Right, see you soon." Click.

He didn't have to wait long. A typical airline captain, complete with black cap, black jacket with gold stripes on the sleeves and gold buttons. He had white hair and a bright smile. He looked at the TSA agent.

"Ah, you have my little pony." Civil's eye twitched.

The agent chuckled and nodded at Civil. "I take it he's a special passenger?" and waved them over to an auxiliary line, reserved for flight crews and guests of the pilot.

The pilot straightened and shook his head. "On the contrary, he will be flying with us, but not as a passenger. If you could be so kind as to screen him in. I have his FAA-approved flight plan and verified credentials here. He is a pilot...and he carries his plane around with him, as you can see."

The agent took the paperwork, sifted through it for a time, and then handed it back to the pilot, nodding. "He checks out. Okay, I've seen weird before, but this is a bit tame, I suppose. Sir, can you step over here? Please put all your bags on the belt. Any electronics, please put in a separate bin, do not stack anything."

Civil stared at the pilot as he did what he was told. He eventually smirked and said evenly, "That is just wrong and you know it."

The pilot shrugged at him, grinning even more. "I dunno. My BIG pony just doesn't have the same ring to it." He eyed Civil up and down for emphasis, noting the pony was on the slim side. He extended his hand and knelt, saying, "If you are offended, I will do my best to refrain from anymore pony jokes. Although, this day will be considerably less fun. William Parcel, your honorary wingman for today."

After eyeing the hand shrewdly, Civil put out his hoof so the man could grasp and shake it. "Civil Patrol, your actual wingpony. Eh, I guess you can squeeze in a few. Just not too blatant." He stepped through the body scanner and stood still as the system spun around him. The woman watching the monitor choked on her gum and leaned over from behind the monitor to look at him with wide eyes. Granted she knew he was going to be scanned, but it still took her by surprise to see a pony scan, wing bones and everything, after seeing nothing but human skeletons day in and day out. He looked back at her. "Everything in place?"

She nodded slowly, mumbling, "I guess....?"

He smiled, "Good enough for me." On the other side he waited for his equipment to go through. Naturally, both TSA agents had to rescan his gear three or four times, then made him carry his property to a separate area where they could inspect it. The entire time, William was standing next to him, advising the agents.

"Yes, that's a portable transponder. That's the antenna relay, hooks into the portable generator. That's also the portable..." He paused and sighed, looking down at Civil. "Let's just assume it is all portable. I already reviewed his license, he is certified to operate all of that."

Civil even held up his license for the agents to read. All the special equipment the military certified him on was spelled out on his card, and FAA legal. This nonsense was because the agents had never seen it before.

After the agents made a few lengthy phone calls to some supervisors, William and Civil were finally, achingly, allowed to gather the items and leave. With that, they were walking side by side down the terminal, passing overly expensive merchandise and food shops. His mouth watered when he smelled the food.

Maaaaaw......pretzels.......

William nodded to the pretzel stand and they bought a few for themselves, continuing on. They reached a gate far down the line from where Flight 1776 was supposed to arrive at, so they never got near Civil's family for them to notice him. As far as they knew, he was already enroute to New Jersey. Civil raised an eyebrow at his printed flight plan, stuffing the last bit of the third pretzel in his mouth. He had enough sense to swallow first before speaking.

"I'm not at the same gate as your tail?" He meant the plane tail designation.

William shook his head in response. "Nope. Ground wants you to taxi from this gang ramp ahead of my flight. Something about keeping up with little legs to maintain their schedule. And with this being a first for all of us, they are baking in some time in case there are, ah, hiccups." He smiled weakly down at the pegasus.

Civil just rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Eh, whatever. I'm the guest here, so I don't feel like having my weenie wings revoked." He eyed William's winged badge on his left suit breast.

The pilot brushed his badge off, not that the shiny thing needed it in the first place. "Ouch, revenge for the 'my little pony' comment. I see how it is." He didn't seem offended though. Glancing at the time, he moved over to a nearby empty seat and sat down. Civil walked over and hopped up to the one next to him. "We have some time to kill. Should probably review a few things before we pull chocks. Your uncle mentioned you were up to speed on all the regs and procedures." William displayed his phone and pulled up the airport diagram.

"Both flight plans are approved for formation flight," the pilot lectured. "Flight Services almost had a heart attack when I proposed what you wanted, but, they couldn't find anything on the books that ruled against it. I gave Ground and Tower a heads up." He grinned and laughed, eyeing Civil. "They can't wait to taxi a pony to the hold short line." He noticed Civil's frown and patted his shoulder softly, "Don't take it personally, you know how this profession is."

After a few seconds, Civil let the annoyance pass and tapped William back with his wing, "I get it. How bad is this jaunt ruffling feathers around here?"

William shrugged, "Not that bad. Actually, they see it as good training for all involved. If more of your people are going to be coming through here, it's best to try it out light rather than wait for a swarm....flock?" He hesitated, then continued with a nod from Civil, "Yeah, a flock of pegasi could really mess things up if everyone panics." He pointed at the diagram, "They'll likely taxi me to 35 Center runway. You'll taxi straight down here, take a left and hold short 35 Left. I trust at flight level you can keep up, otherwise you wouldn't have proposed to do so. What about your taxi speed, takeoff? Do you need a head start?"

It had been a while since he clocked himself. Granted he never was one for racing, but he figured he could fly at a decent clip. He certainly wasn't a heavy lifter like his father was, or much for endurance. Civil answered, "Um...short term I can sprint on hoof to keep up with the max 30 knots for taxi. Takeoff?" He looked back at a wing and flexed it, remembering his low level springs he would do, skipping over rolling waves and leaving a furrow in his wake. He nodded, smiling, "Yah, no problem."

The human pilot thought to himself for a bit, then shrugged. He checked the time. They spent the next several minutes going through the centers they'd be passing through, the airspaces and holding areas in case one of them was delayed, all tandem stuff since they each simply couldn't plan for just themselves. At length, William snapped his fingers. "Oh yeah, almost forgot. Comms. When we are at cruising altitude and one of us does have an issue, we'll want something to go back and forth on, off ATC, naturally."

Thinking back to his Air Force days up in Oklahoma, Civil grinned and had the perfect solution. He said, "When we are up there, just say 'go Mathis' and roll to 3434." The pilot quirked an eyebrow at him. Civil appended, "It's the address to a very well-known furniture store. Most crews out of Tinker AFB know what 'go mathis' means."

William chuckled, "Cute. And you know to stay on Ground until at the hold short, go to Tower, take off, then to ATC..." He paused, seeing Civil's half-lidded nodding as he slowly started mimicking falling asleep. He chuckled at the pegasus and said, "Right, sorry. I just want to make sure this doesn't blow up in our faces."

With a snort, Civil hopped out of the seat and stretched his neck. He tilted his head at the pilot. "Roger, wilco. Whatev. Ready?"

William stood up and held out his hand to the gate, the airline agents having watched the two converse back and forth, now having to catch up on their work on the computers. The display above their heads only showed 1776P Boarding Pending. When Civil stepped up to the door leading down the ramp tunnel, the display changed to Boarding Complete. He looked wryly at one of the agents.

She blushed and shrugged. "Sorry. First time doing this. Just go down to the end and through the door to the stairwell to the tarmac. You should know what to do from there." She unlocked the door.

Civil turned back to William and asked, "That's where I'll do my systems and radio checks, then contact Ground, yah?"

The pilot gave him a two-finger salute. "Yep, see you in the skies." He turned smartly in the direction of his gate and headed there.

The pegasus turned back and stared down the tunnel of the gangway. It was like any other he'd walked down in the past, as a human. With his shorter stature, it looked bigger. He hesitated. This was a lot of work to enable a minor surprise for his family. Oh, no, he couldn't simply fly low until he was outside the airport's working area and just fly straight to his uncle's place. He had to do all....this. A tap on his shoulder made him jump. It was the agent.

"Are you alright?"

He looked up sheepishly and responded, "Yes. Just preflight jitters. I mean, I'm not afraid to fly. I...think I could have avoided a lot of hassle going the safe route. All of this was to stay with my family in a way and show them what I am capable of-" He paused when a thought came to him. He asked quietly, "Do you think that is arrogant?"

She crossed her arms and contemplated for a moment. Then she asked, "Would you do it if your family wasn't there?"

He scoffed as soon as she finished, "Hell no! I'd just go straight there my own way."

She smiled and patted his head, his ears splaying to either side from the sudden affection, "Then I wouldn't worry about it. You do it out of love, even if it's a little showboating. Every family is proud to witness their own member be successful. Just don't overdo it."

He smiled up at her and nodded. "Gotcha. And thankyou." She nodded and watched him canter down the gangway.

Her friend leaned over and whispered in her ear. "You got to cheer him up AND pet him, too. I am so jealous!" The first agent grinned and lightly elbowed her friend away.

"Oh hush, I would have given him that advice, even if he wasn't such a cute thing."

They didn't get to witness his cheeks turn deep red, seeing as how the acoustics of the tunnel and his sensitive hearing picked up every word they had said.

***

Civil ran through the normal systems checks, triple checked his batteries, dear Celestia don't let THOSE go dead early. Flight plan loaded and ready on his datapad strapped to his foreleg. Last thing was the radio check. He sighed and keyed up, "1776 Papa on Ground, how do you hear?"

"1776 Papa, Lima Charlie." Simple, professional. Civil thought that was a pleasant break and reached back to adjust a saddlebag strap, until, "Just to recap, 1776 Papa, you are 4 legged tandem gear, semi-fixed wing ponycraft scratching himself at Gate A36?" He distinctly heard raucous laughter in the background before the transmission had ended.

The pegasus slowly placed his hoof on the pavement and wrinkled his nose in annoyance. They damn well knew he was a pony, and they knew he wasn't 'scratching himself,' they have people with binoculars up there that could see he was adjusting...forget it. He sighed to himself. But now, almost every pilot on this side of the terminal was looking for him if they were on headset.

Alright, he thought to himself, let's go fishing. "Ground, 1776 Papa, that is affirmative, you are not daydreaming up in that boring tower, you are in fact witnessing a miracle of nature, a living breathing talking four legged flying pony that has wings all the time...all systems ready and waiting for taxi from A36 for a twin takeoff with Flight 1776. If there are any other concerns..............." He let up off the mic...then got back on, "Please don't hesitate to ask."

He glanced around and noticed a few pilots up in the cockpits laughing and giving him a thumbs up. He smiled to himself and simply waited. Ground never responded to him, but did respond to Flight 1776 when William called up and was ready for taxi. Ground gave them instructions to taxi, and made a small attempt to ask if Civil required lead time in case he wasn't able to keep up. He responded with a curt negative and galloped, hard, down the taxiway, astonishing most of the baggage handlers, and even the spotters up in the tower. He had to dial it back some when he noticed he was approaching the taxi speed limit, and when he was leaving his fellow wingman behind. Slowing to a trot, he waited until the other plane got into position before he finally approached the hold short and switched to Tower.

Civil radio'd, "Tower, 1776 Papa, holding short 35 Left, ready for takeoff."

Wouldn't you know it, the same guy for Ground was also on Tower freq. He responded, "We see you, 1776 Papa. You are cleared for takeoff. When you eventually get up to speed and effect your departure, keep heading until five thousand feet. Flight 1776 will hold at BOSSI until you catch up, then fly outbound formation heading 350 until ten-thousand feet."

Civil was about to say something very heated when he noticed William over on the other runway, wearing his light green headset up in his cockpit window. He was shaking his head no, as though he knew the pony was about to pop off. Civil merely keyed up and responded, "1776 Papa copies." William nodded once, then requested his clearance for takeoff and got a nicer response. Both moved onto their runways. 1776 spooled up, the high pitched sound blunted by Civil's noise canceling headset he thanked his sweet stars he shelled out money for. Then the plane started rolling forward.

Civil gave it a few seconds, gauging how long he'd have to wait. When Tower finally got on the radio and said, "Flight 1776 Papa-" Civil pressed his hooves hard on the pavement and shot forward, galloping like his life depended on it. He knew he felt some give in the pavement back there but he didn't have time to check. After several strides, he stretched out his wings and pushed even harder with his back muscles, lifting himself off the ground. He wasn't done yet. Now was the time to make Tower eat their words. He pushed harder and harder, likening back to the days he was in flight school in Equestria. In a few seconds he realized he was near 250 knots, half again as fast as the plane he was supposed to be taking off with. Doing quick math in his head and figuring for at least 13,000 more feet of runway, he had half a minute...to...pull a few very tight loops, which he did, and then flew straight down the runway, spinning laterally four times before flying level again and ascending to the holding point at BOSSI, per the approach/departure plates. He avoided doing barrel rolls, figuring it might scare Tower into thinking he was going to go outside his lane.

Once he reached BOSSI, way ahead of his 160 knot chugging wingman, he lazily rolled over on his back and drifted around slowly, radioing, "Tower, 1776 Papa, holding at BOSSI five thousand feet, per your instructions in case somebody was slow. Will continue with flight plan soon as 1776 is up here too."

There was a very long pause, then a gruff reply, "1776 Papa, copy. Switch to Departure." There was dead silence in the background, just the voice over the radio. Civil grinned, reaching over to switch his radio freq. Yah, bet your ass you copied that you rat fuck son of a-

He noticed 1776 was getting close, so he leveled out changed heading to 360. There was getting back at Tower and then there was getting violated by not following instructions. He tilted over until he was alongside 1776 and they both continued past BOSSI Missed Approach Fix.

Soon they were about to reach 10,000 feet and were instructed to switch to Fort Worth Center. Once there, they were met with far better professionalism.

"1776 and 1776 Papa, we see you. Squawk 4493 and 4494 respectively. Continue to 33,000 feet, Turn 030, follow Juliet 105 to Mike Lima Charlie, continue as planned."

Civil glanced at his jet chart, noted the jet route J105, made sure his track lined up with it and saw they had at least 60 nautical miles to go until the VORTAC of MLC, a navigational aid along their route. Civil keyed up, "Papa copies, squawking, flight level 330, heading 030 to Mike Lima Charlie, then as planned." As he passed through 10,000 and climbed further, he received a single click back from ATC telling them it was a good read back. After a few minutes, he keyed up, "1776 Papa to 1776 roll to mathis."

"Rolling to mathis," replied William.

After a few seconds, Civil keyed up again, "William, you there?"

He replied, "My god, Civil, if you didn't already lose your wings for that, holy shit. Hah! I still can't believe you did that!"

A cold shiver, despite his body normally resisting high altitude cold, ran down his spine. He asked, "Do...do you think they would? Pull my wings, that is?"

Some of the mirth had left William's voice, "Don't sweat it, kiddo. That was just with tower, they're jerkoffs sometimes anyway. If ATC had wanted your ass, both you and I would have gotten a nice little message over our computers to call FAA once we landed. Hell, I'd have wagered they'd simply tell you to turn around and land just outside tower to get your reaming over with right then and there. Naw, after the shit Ground and Tower slung at you, that display merely showed them what you guys are capable of doing. Serves them right anyway. I had a damned time just concentrating on my own takeoff and not staring at your display. Just don't do it again or it will cause someone else to crash, that's for sure."

Civil flew for a minute, then replied, "Yeah, gotcha. Sorry."

"Heh, you don't have to apologize to me. How is it out there? We're getting some buffeting."

That made Civil pay a bit more attention. Oh, there were some thermals up here. Thin ones though. Most pegasi learned to simply pass in between them. Guess not so for a big lumbering bird like the one next to him. He glanced up, feeling his way. He may not have been an overly sensitive or skilled weather pony, but he was a pegasus.

"Try requesting up to Flight Level 370. Thermals are not so bad up there."

"How the hell do you know that?!"

Snort. "Trust me, William, I was born to fly."

"I hear that. Standby." There was a pause, most likely he was switching to his other radio. Civil listened in.

"Center, 1776 request climb to Flight Level 370. Our resident weather pony says turbulence is less up there-"

"For 200 nautical miles, all directions from our position," Civil cut in on the private freq.

"-clear of turbulence, 200 nautical miles our position North 34 10, West 96 15, how copy?"

"We read North 34 10 West 95 15 200 mile radius clear turb Flight Level 370."

"Good readback for 1776."

"Copy that, Formation 1776 climb to Flight Level 370." There was about a minute of silence while they climbed. Then ATC said, "Everyone in the area is messaging us loads of thanks to your resident weather pony, nice job."

Civil climbed up slowly with his wingman, glad that the wind was quickly drying his moist eyes. Once they leveled off, he simply flew along. Eventually, Williams keyed up on 3434.

"Hey buddy, you okay out there?" He turned his head to the left to see William and his copilot watching him from the windows nearby. He was fairly up forward, out of sight of the passengers. He nodded.

"Yeah. uh...I never get that much praise for my ideas. As a pony or a human." He looked ahead, eyes glistening again.

There was silence. Then, "Don't worry about it. If you are doing right, praise is just there to give you strength to continue doing right." Civil looked over at William, who gave him another salute. Civil returned it and smiled. William looked behind to speak to a flight attendant, then out the window again, "Hey Civil, I think some of the passengers did notice you. I'm going to pipe the PA through. Mind floating back a bit."

"Sure thing. Flying with my folks was the original idea anyway."

"Cool." There was a click, and then he heard William say, "Ladies and gentlemen, we have leveled off at flight level three seven zerooo. We are expected to reach our destination of Newark New Jersey on time, so sit back and relax. On this flight we have a special treat. A certain family is flying with us, and if you haven't noticed out the right side of the plane, you can see their son flying in formation with us. I have had the pleasure of talking to him and he is the smartest creature I have ever met. That includes humans too, so the rest of you need to step up your game."

Civil could see the amazed faces peering out of the windows as he drifted back, letting the plane slowly overtake him. Some were even laughing at the pilot's comments.

"On a sidenote, you can also thank our wingpony for your current smooth flight. He suggested this altitude, which I might add, is a far smoother ride than the lower one, so let's show our appreciation for Civil Patrol making your flight a far more pleasant one than apparently I can."

Through the aluminum fuselage, Civil could just make out cheering and clapping, not to mention he saw a fair number of people clapping and waving. He smiled and waved back at them. He could also see his parents, the amazement on their faces as well. His sister, however, was grinning and twirling a finger around the side of her head indicating he was loony. He gave her an exaggerated nod. He felt good. He saw his family nearby, literally sitting twenty or thirty feet away and he was content.

"Hey Civil, would you be able to do me a favor?"

He frowned. William wasn't sounding too jovial. "Yeah. What's wrong? Am I flying wrong?"

"No no, nothing like that. One of the flight attendants just informed me there is a young girl sitting on the left side of the plane in a window seat. She is deathly afraid of flying and very upset. Probably because she doesn't want to look out the windows, even though she wants to see a flying pony. Would you be able to go over there and cheer her up?"

Civil flew for about a minute, thinking.

"If you don't want to, that's quite alright. You are not some circus act, I get it."

"Actually," Civil began rather hesitantly, "I'm...not that good with kids. They're irrational, cry, smell, and defy all laws of logic and practical thinking."

"You just described most adults, feathers."

Civil snorted. "Eh, alright, I'll go see what I can do." He paused and thought of something, then he said, "I'm going to message Center our signals might merge, but not to worry. They should still be able to see our squawks." As he typed the message into his datapad to transmit to ATC rather than clog up the airwaves, it was William that sounded hesitant.

"Civil, what are you planning on doing?"

"Don't worry, this won't endanger anybody or anypony, I promise." He got a quick affirmative reply from ATC and flew slightly higher, then slid over the top of the plane to the left side. He spotted a single window with its blind closed, centered over the wing. Probably so she couldn't see the ground move away on takeoff, as it was a good idea to keep the windows open during takeoffs and landings for safety purposes, in case someone noticed a fire or something. The girl must have closed it as soon as she was allowed.

William came back as Civil got closer and closer to the wing, "If you are about to do what I think you are going to do, do NOT damage my plane, copy?"

Civil replied, "Gotcha bossman. Just don't do any aileron rolls and we'll both stay pretty after this trip." William single-clicked him. The pegasus was very careful as he drifted the last couple of feet down, and, >tink< landed all four hooves on the left wing...of a Boeing 737. Careful not to put any dents into the aluminium(sp) he slowly walked over to the window with the blind pulled closed. Conscious of the other passengers looking on, he tapped on the window.

Nothing.

He smirked and tapped harder, thankful he went for the specially coated ponyshoes so as not to crack certain airplane windows. After several seconds of waiting, the blind slid up the barest inch and two human eyes peered out. He made sure his eyes were level with hers, which went wide in shock and the blind slid down quick. He chuckled to himself and tapped out the first part of 'Shave and a Haircut' on the window, a classic cartoon trope. He was surprised when he heard 'Two Bits' rapped out on the other side of the window. Slowly, the blind came up to reveal a less shocked set of eyes, and a darling face to accompany the eyes, albeit puffy and tear-streaked.

He sat up straight and smiled, tilted his head so one ear was straight and the other flopped to the side in the wind, and waved. She giggled and waved back to him. Then she started chatting. She talked about how she loved ponies and had a lot of the toys at home, how her favorite used to be Princess Celestia, because of COURSE she was bestest princess, how she loved the cartoon, how she wanted to hear all about his adventures, if he'd been to the Everfree Forest, what was his favorite food, had he met the other famous ponies like Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash (because she REALLY loved flying ponies), if he had pony family members, if he and his family were going to see them............

And all Civil experienced was a silent movie over the roar of the wind outside. Granted his headset cut out much of the noise, but did nothing to help him hear any of what this little girl was saying. He gave her a full two minutes before he figured she was not understanding this conversation was anything but, so he held up a hoof. She stopped talking and took on a confused look. Then he ducked down below the windowsill. Before she got alarmed, he popped up both his hooves and pointed them at each other. Next he wiggled one at the other, then the other responded by nodding and wiggling, simulating they were talking to each other. He backed is head away a little so he could just see her face and gauge her reaction.

The little girl's confused expression slowly changed to frustration, since, you know, she couldn't hear what HE was saying. She turned away for a few seconds, then came back to the window and held up her iPad which had a notepad application pulled up. On it were the words:

WHAT ARE YOU DOING???????????????????

Civil stopped wiggling his hooves at each other and put them down quickly, giving her a deadpan look. He nodded with a weak smile and pulled out his phone, careful to make sure it was firmly secure in its velcro strap so it didn't blow away in the wind. He typed out:

HOOF PUPPETS, NATURALLY.

She read it, frowned, and typed out:

WHY?

Civil rolled his eyes and replied with:

BECAUSE I HAVE NO HANDS, DUH! 😜

The girl giggled hysterically and he had to wait until she calmed down. That's when he noticed her mother was sitting in the middle seat and her father near the aisle, both watching in utter shock. Her father was the first to recover and leaned over to say something to the girl. Her cheeks colored and she quickly typed out and showed Civil:

OH MY GOSH I'M SORRY!!!! I FORGOT WE CANT HEAR EACH OTHER

She paused, glanced down at her iPad, then typed away, smiling sheepishly, she displayed:

WAIT WE CAN TALK THIS WAY RIGHT???

He smiled and clapped his hooves together to show approval. The girl laughed. All the while, Civil watched the girl's mother's reactions. Her face went from initial shock, to surprise, then to amusement, and oddly enough some discomfort laced with guilt. She had trouble meeting his eyes. Ah, this was the family he saw at the airport. The young girl with the pretty dress and the disapproving mother. And she remembered he must have overheard her scathing comments earlier. While the girl was typing out something, he typed out a word and showed it to the mother:

LATER

Her eyes widened, then glanced at her daughter for a second before she looked back at Civil and nodded. He was careful to erase the word when the girl put her iPad back up on the window. He hadn't noticed before, but she was moving her mouth when she typed and read his replies.

MY NAME IS SARAH WEISE. I AM 9 AND A HALF YEARS OLD, GOING ON 10!!!! WHAT IS YOUR NAME?

He smiled and thought about it, then replied:

HELLO SARAH. THAT IS A VERY PRETTY NAME. (she blushed) MY NAME IS CIVIL PATROL. PONY AGES ARE HARD TO TRANSLATE TO HUMAN AGES, BUT WHEN I WAS HUMAN, I WAS 25 BEFORE I CHANGED, AND THAT WAS ALMOST 3 YEARS AGO. SOOO 28?

She read it all out, and this time he did notice she was mouthing out all the words, and most likely out loud. He could see a few of the passengers across the aisle paying very close attention to the exchange, although there was no way they could read what Civil and Sarah were writing to each other. After each exchange, they reacted with smiles, which meant this was a very public conversation. He was glad the wind had a nice chill bite to it to cool his heated cheeks from the embarrassment.

She replied:

YOU LOOK YOUNG FOR 28. YOUR FAMILY IS ON BOARD, RIGHT?

He grinned and nodded. Then she wrote:

WHAT ABOUT YOUR PONY FAMILY, MOM, DAD, BROTHER SISTER?

This led into an avenue of conversation he normally didn't want to talk about, especially with a 9 year old still innocent to the world. He stared down at the phone, unsure of what to put. Glancing up, he saw she wore a worried expression, her fingers tightening on the iPad. She might be thinking she said something wrong, he thought to himself, so he quickly typed out:

SOME BAD THINGS HAPPENED, AND I DON'T HAVE THEM ANYMORE. BUT MY HUMAN FAMILY IS NEARBY, AND THAT IS ALL THE FAMILY I NEED. MY TWO PARENTS AND SISTER.

Well, you'd have thought he had written something scandalous. She furiously typed away. Her mother, listening in to her vocalize what she was typing, initially frowned. She looked up and saw the pegasus was watching her and flinched. At length she became contemplative and asked her daughter a question. Sarah nodded emphatically and then placed the iPad up on the window. It read:

NO!!! THATS NOT ALL YOU NEED!!! YOU NEED MORE FAMILY MEMBERS YOU LOOK SO SAD WHEN WE TALK ABOUT IT THAT MEANS YOU NEED MORE.

Sarah pulled away the iPad and typed some more. Her mother commented to her and Sarah responded, pointing to him and being very animated with her hands. Not entirely approving, the mother shrugged and glanced at her husband, who in turn nodded. Sarah finally showed Civil:

WHAT IF I WAS YOUR FAMILY MEMBER??? I CAN BE YOUR SECOND SISTER, WE CAN WRITE TO EACH OTHER AND YOU CAN VISIT AND I CAN SHOW YOU TO MY FRIENDS OH OH!!! MY BIRTHDAY IS COMING UP CAN YOU GO TO MY BIRTHDAY PARTY?????

He stood there, his mouth open, trying to understand what it was she was writing. His eyes flitted back and forth, and then he looked up at her mother, brows raised. She smiled weakly and shrugged, then lifted her hand to him, as though it was his decision. His head slumped, a disgruntled look on his face. The one adult figure that could nip this family thing in the bud and she was actually supporting her daughter now! He stretched his shoulders and wrote on his phone, then held it up:

THAT IS A LOT TO ASK ANYPONY. I WILL THINK ABOUT IT AS FAR AS THE FAMILY MEMBERSHIP GOES. I MIGHT BE ABLE TO MAKE IT TO YOUR PARTY, BUT THAT IS UP TO YOUR PARENTS. IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE YOU WANT TO ASK ME ABOUT?

That's when the floodgates opened and she repeated all her questions she had asked earlier, only this time he could see what she wanted to know, so he answered them as best he could. They were at this for quite a while, and he held himself with proper poise, almost to the point where he was sitting at parade rest. He knew her parents and several other people were listening in, so he was very neutral about his answers. His demeanor did not go unnoticed by the girl, even at her age. She finally asked him:

ARE YOU A ROYAL GUARD? YOU LOOK SERIOUS ENOUGH TO BE A GUARD.

He chuckled and loosened up a little, typing out his answer:

I USED TO BE, SOME STUFF HAPPENED AND I WAS FORCED TO LEAVE THE GUARD AND EQUESTRIA BEHIND. I'M JUST A NORMAL PONY NOW.

This made the girl frown and she replied:

DID YOU DO SOMETHING BAD OR HURT PONIES OR PRINCESS CELESTIA?

He shook his head no and the girl's brow furrowed in thought. She typed out, all the while still vocalizing her words:

THEN YOU WERE MEANT TO COME TO EARTH, MAYBE HELP OUT OTHER PONIES, OR EVEN HUMANS. DID PRINCESS CELESTIA MAKE YOU COME TO EARTH?

The mother glanced at her daughter in concern. Odd. He replied with:

I WOULD RATHER NOT TALK ABOUT IT. I'M JUST A NORMAL PONY TRYING TO FIND HIS WAY, OR SO I WAS TOLD.

She quickly replied:

YOU ARE NOT NORMAL, YOU ARE A SPECIAL PONY! YOU CAME OVER TO TALK TO ME WHEN YOU COULD BE FLYING NEAR YOUR FAMILY.

He started to shake his head and type a reply, but she deliberately tapped the window and then pointed out the phrase on her iPad while saying out loud: YOU ARE A SPECIAL PONY!

He pursed his lips and scratched the side of his head, unsure of what to say. He didn't feel special. She started yawning, which gave him an excuse to change the subject. He checked their flight path on his datapad and wrote:

YOU LOOK TIRED. WE ARE STILL ONLY HALFWAY TO OUR DESTINATION, PERHAPS YOU SHOULD TAKE A NAP.

Her mother gave him a grateful smile, but Sarah wasn't having it. She wrote back, shaking her head no:

NO!! I CANT TAKE A NAP WHILE YOU ARE OUT THERE IN THE FREEZING COLD ALL ALONE-

He didn't bother reading the rest and shook his hoof back and forth, then tapped away on his phone and held it up:

IT'S OK. WE PEGASI DO NOT FEEL THE COLD MUCH UP HERE, SO IT IS ALRIGHT.

She still shook her head and typed out:

PLEASE DONT LEAVE ME UP HERE ALONE!!!!

She was nearly in tears and her mother tried to console her. The girl must have started thinking about her fear of flying again, and he was doing so well getting her to avoid that. Civil contemplated the situation, then wrote:

DON'T WORRY, KIDDO. I'LL TAKE A NAP WITH YOU. I PROMISE TO STAY RIGHT HERE, AND WHEN YOU WAKE UP, I WILL STILL BE HERE. IF ANYTHING HAPPENS, I WILL HELP, NO MATTER WHAT. OKAY?

He lowered his phone and saw she still had a dubious look on her face. Clenching his jaw for a few seconds, he sighed and finally typed:

THAT'S WHAT ROYAL GUARDS DO. THEY PROTECT THE INNOCENT.

She positively beamed and planted a big kiss on the window. He covered his eyes with a hoof in embarrassment, this was not happening, he thought to himself. When he peeked, he saw Sarah waiting expectantly. Her parents were enthralled, so he shook his head and put his hoof to his mouth, blowing her a kiss. She grabbed it out of the air and put it in her dress pocket. The adults next to her laughed, completely delighted with the back and forth play, especially since it kept their daughter from thinking about her fears.

Sarah finally calmed down from her antics and curled up in such a way so she could see the window. Civil stepped away just far enough so when he lied down on the wing, she could still see him. Sarah's mother was the one in tears now, patting the top of Sarah's head, all the while mouthing 'thankyou' to Civil. He sat at attention and tapped twice across his chest with his right foreleg like a Roman. He then curled up, facing the window, and found it was rather nice out here, riding on the wing as it were. Civil was just about to drift to sleep when his radio chirped up.

"Are you actually going to nap on my wing out there!?! The flight attendants are filling me in and this soap opera is more entertaining than television." Almost forgot about him, Civil thought to himself.

"Just a small nap so little Sarah will calm down. I could use one anyway. I trust your flying."

"Yeah...aside from the insanity of you actually sleeping on my wing in the first place, I really don't want you sliding off and smashing into my horizontal stab."

Civil opened an eye, got up, lightly stepped around in a circle like a cat, then laid back down the exact same way he was before and curled up. "No problems here. Pegasus magic is sticky bestest magic."

"Riiiight," was the slightly exasperated response he got. Then, "Just don't do anything weird out there, the whole cabin is watching you. Might want to set an alarm on your equipment to wake you before we get to the Initial Approach Fix. You know, that whole approach and landing bit us REAL pilots have to worry about?"

Civil snorted, lazily punched in an approximate alarm, and closed his eyes again, murmuring into the mic, "Roger wilco. See you in an hour and twenty." He checked one last time on his semi-adopted sister. Sarah was out like a light, a smile of contentment on her face. Her mother was still petting the top of her head, but she was watching Civil, and it was with a look of fondness, a rare expression to be seen on strangers regarding him. This made him warm inside, a little extra fleece against the cold...and to be honest it was a tad nippy out here at 37,000 feet. He drifted off into the clouds of dreamland, as both flight 1776's drifted through actual clouds.

***

".....civil......"

The pegasus slowly woke up and murmured to himself. When he didn't get an answer he remembered to key up and ask, "Huh, what?"

"CIVIL!" He jumped up, whipping his head around. He could see Sarah tapping on the window in an alarmed manner, but she calmed down when she saw he was awake.

"For christ sake, wake up! We're past the IAP and Approach is waiting for you to switch over. I can only BS them for so long. 'Oh don't worry, my wingman is out wingwalking. No wait, wingsleeping. That's okay, right?' Yeah. I like my flight certification, thankyou very much."

He checked their track and they had indeed descended for the initial approach and were enroute to the Final Approach Fix. Then he checked his alarm and double-checked their route. Huh, they must have made some time based on favorable winds...which meant his alarm was set well past when it should have needed to wake him.

"Oh shit, sorry, my bad! You were flying so well I simply overestimated the alarm."

"Uh huh, just get up on Approach," William replied, a little calmer now.

Civil verified the proper setting on his plates and keyed the mic, "1776 Papa to Approach, past IAP on approach to Newark New Jersey."

"1776 Papa, nice of you to join us, squawk 3547." Civil complied and switched his transponder to transmit properly.

William came over the other freq, "Hey, Sleeping Booty, I don't feel like logging a four point landing today, fyi."

He frowned and replied, "Huh? What does that mean?"

"My three gear trucks and your tail hitting the pavement when you bounce off my wing from the touchdown."

He laughed, "Oh yeah, I'm no Rainbow Crash." He pointed himself forward and could see the airport from his nice spot on the left wing.

"Wow, that's really a thing?" the pilot replied.

"Yep," Civil answered. "It's a thing. Now, let's see how this-" The wind was knocked out of him as soon as he spread his wings, not thinking about what he was doing. That action had caused his magic to shift from cloudwalker mode to fly mode...and the fast moving air ripped him off the wing. He had a moment where he totally Matrix'd over the horizontal stabilizer (Celestia forbid he slammed into it after he promised his wingman he wouldn't) and tumbled behind the plane in its hot exhaust.

Remembering his flight training, he spread out all limbs, tweaked his wings and steadied into a glider profile. Tipping his head down and pushing hard with his wings, he regained some of the speed he lost while he was tumbling.

"1776 Papa, we see your signal has separated from Flight 1776, proceed on course 1 nautical mile, then change heading left 10 degrees until lined up with 04 Left, then hold 040 heading and continue descent on glide path." The rest of the landing proceeded without issue and both Flight 1776's touched down without incident. Tower and Ground were informed well in advance from the previous airport what to expect, so they ushered both of them to the same gate without any fuss. Flight 1776 taxied up to the gangway and waited for it to extend to the fuselage, the baggage handlers scrambling to open up the cargo doors and start transferring luggage out of the hold via conveyors. They were a little more surprised to see a pegasus trotting alongside the plane and wait at the base of the gangway stairwell, but they took it in stride.

As the pegasus shut down his equipment and closed out his flight plan, one of the handlers walked up the stairwell and opened the door for him. Of course, the human also had two strollers with him, priority items retrieved from the cargo hold of the plane so the disembarking owners could get their children in them as quick as possible and move on into the terminal. Still, it was the thought that counted. Civil climbed the steps and waited inside next to the strollers, nodding at the surprised agents that were attending to the plane's door.

After they opened up the door, the first one out was actually William. He knelt down and shook Civil's hoof. "Aside from some things we won't talk about or tell FAA, I enjoyed flying with you."

Civil nodded, smiling. "I enjoyed it too. Granted, I didn't get to see a lot of my folks, but it was for a good cause, right?"

William shook his head and stood up, replying, "You have no idea. I have to finish out some items. I suggest you go up the ramp and wait. A lot of passengers want to meet you." The color drained out of Civil's face. William laughed and said, "Don't worry, it's all appreciation over how you handled the girl. Tell your uncle I'll see him at the party later." With that, he entered back into the plane.

In a daze, Civil walked up the long ramp and eventually into the terminal. The crowd that had gathered and was preparing to board the plane as soon as it was ready shared similar surprise to see a pegasus emerge from the doorway. He smiled belatedly and stepped over to the side. He didn't like attention. All too often it meant he had pissed somepony off. True it was more exasperation with something he had gone and messed with, and almost always with good intentions. But still, to him attention was bad attention.

He frowned as he idly watched the First Class passengers come up the ramp, his family among them. Did William say the word 'party'? He was interrupted from his thoughts by suited men and women from First Class coming up to shake his hoof, all of them acknowledging his heroic action of consoling the girl, from outside the plane no less, and how there should be more humans like him. Not pony, but he knew what they meant, or so they said. He put on a plastic smile and nodded, thanking them in return. His parents and Renee stood by, watching all this and smiling. They were obviously waiting for the one passenger that was truly grateful for his big gushy heart.

"There he is, mommy! There's Civil!" She ran full tilt right for him. A lot of the passengers stepped aside, having foreseen this particular event. Civil braced himself. Before the girl could reach him, a much older female voice rang out.

"Sarah Coleen Weise! We do not grab strange animals!" No sooner had she said that, her daughter skidded to a halt mere inches from Civil, and her mother covered her mouth. She hurried over to her daughter, looking completely mortified.

Sarah looked up at her, her lower lip quivering, "He's not an animal, mommy! He's a person! A pony person!"

To her credit, her mother nodded and clasped both her hands together in front of her daughter. She bobbed her head at Civil and said in a much quieter voice, "I am so sorry Mister Patrol! I know you are a person. I wasn't thinking and I tried...I wasn't thinking. I'm new at this, so bear with me. Do you prefer to be a person, pony...none of the above?"

He smiled back at her and replied, "It's alright. Pony or person will do just fine." He tilted his head in thought. "Imagine turning into something you thought was only a myth. What would YOU do?"

She gave him a grateful smile. "I would have several nervous breakdowns."

"I wouldn't! I would fly around and do all sorts of pegasus things!" exclaimed Sarah. The adults laughed at the girl's exuberance. Karen and Daniel introduced themselves to Sarah's parents, Alice and Keith. Sarah, being just a kid, was too excited to stand there while the grownups did grownup things, so she tried to get Civil's attention while he was talking to her parents. She even inched a little closer to him, pushing her mother's arms off her.

Alice noticed this and addressed her daughter, "Sarah dear, if he is a person, then how do we respect persons?"

Sullenly she replied, "We respect their space and ask for permission." Her mother nodded in approval and looked at Civil. He wasn't sure what was expected of him and looked around. He saw Renee eyeing him. She made like she was hugging herself and nodded to Sarah, which is what he was starting to figure out.

With a small sigh, he acquiesced, "Okay, you can hug-" The air was squeezed out of him by a surprisingly powerful 9 year old going on 10. Renee took this moment to take a picture of it on her phone. While the adults cooed over the mortification of Civil, Keith leaned close to Alice.

"Honey, I think I'll go on ahead, okay? You can stay here with Sarah and talk to the pegasus, I'll meet you at baggage claim. I think she is going to talk his ears off and I wouldn't want someone grabbing our stuff during that time." Alice nodded, watching her daughter.

Renee smiled. "Actually, that's a great idea. Mom, dad? I'll stay here, keep an eye on the children?" Once Civil could breathe again and Sarah had let up, his eyes narrowed at his sister. What was she up to?

Karen smirked at Daniel and whispered, "I know a dismissal when I hear one." She and her husband, along with Keith, headed off to baggage claim.

Sarah told Civil, "Did you know, you smell like the ocean? Like a sweet perfumed ocean!" He gave her a lopsided smile, eyes wandering back to his sister.

"Um, thankyou?" He said weakly.

Renee laughed and smelled her own hair. "Oh, so that's where that smell was coming from. I thought it was my shampoo." She got a strange look and bent over, sniffing at him, then coughed. "Smells like ocean and sweaty pony, from my point of view." Civil gave his sister a dreary look. Absentmindedly, she smelled her own hair again and shrugged. "I should probably change shampoo brands."

"Thanks, Miss Smell Police," he muttered and stuck out his tongue.

Sarah booped him on the nose, getting his attention. "You said you had to leave the Royal Guard and Equestria? Why did you leave? I want to know." Alice tried to put a hand on her head as a warning, but the girl ducked out from under it, getting her closer to the pegasus. For his part, he knew she wasn't going to let up on this, so he answered her.

"Yesss...well, I didn't so much leave. More like I got kicked out." He wrinkled his nose, a twinge of darkness crossing his face.

"Why!? You said you didn't do anything bad....are you a bad pony?" There was worry on her face, as if he were about to tell her something that would shatter her image of him.

"What? No...at least, I don't think so. I stuck my nose into some things when I should have been guarding something or another. I never got any bad paperwork. I guess..." He shrugged. "I guess I didn't fit in." His wings started to slip down, ears lowering a little.

Renee tried to help get the pressure off him and interjected, "Yeah, some princess was mean to him and said he had to leave for a while until-"

"Princess!? Which one?" Sarah was unusually interested now and all but jumping up and down in front of Renee.

Renee shrugged. She had completely forgotten who it was her mother had said. "Celly? Cellphone. Wait, do they even have cellphones-"

"Celestia was her name," Civil supplied, steeling himself against the darkness that threatened to ruin his day. He didn't see what the big deal was. It was his banning, afterall.

With a gasp, Sarah got right in front of Civil and proclaimed, "Princess Celestia is bestest princess!" Protectively, Alice placed her hands on Sarah's shoulders and squeezed them.

Naturally, Civil wasn't picking up on her distress, so he rolled his eyes and started with, "I wouldn't go that far-" He yelped when a pair of juvenile hands grabbed his head and pulled him nose to nose with her. Her mother almost stepped in to hold her again, but she saw that look on her daughter's face and decided she wanted to keep all her fingers today. That spunky pegasus was on his own.

In a very low and unchildlike voice, Sarah said slowly, "Princess Celestia......say it!"

He gulped and replied, "Princess Celestia..."

"Is bestest..."

"Princess!" Her face had a grim expression.

"Princess." Civil wasn't sure what he was supposed to do or say at this point. An adult hand tapped Sarah's shoulder. She blinked, looked up at her mother, and backed up a step, mumbling an apology. He frowned. Something wasn't right, and he wasn't about to let it go. "Why do you feel so strongly about her?"

The girl blinked at him as if he said water wasn't wet. "How can you not see her as she really is?! She's powerful, and regal, and a princess, and she never ever uses her position for bad things! She's a good princess!" Sarah was on the verge of tears.

He frowned and tilted his head. "There was that one time with the slice of...ow!" He rubbed his rump after his sister lightly kicked him from behind. "What was that for!?!"

"Listen to the girl. She knows what she's talking about." Renee was paying attention, and this was not mere fandom she was witnessing.

He had apoplexy for a couple of seconds, then answered, "WHAT!?! You're the one that said she was mean-"

"I said she was mean to YOU. I never said she was mean. And this girl corrected me on that small point, so why are you trying to convince us she is mean?" Sarah smiled and thanked Renee's acceptance of the truth, and Civil tried to figure out why he suddenly felt like he was in the wrong.

Then a thought came to him and he did some math. Three girls. One boy. Yeah, that's why he felt he was in the wrong. "Okay ladies, it was fun while it lasted. I'm going to go catch up with my folks." He started walking away. Renee waved for Alice and Sarah to follow and she drifted back to walk with the two humans.

"Give him a minute, he gets grouchy when conversations don't go his way," she whispered to them.

"I also get grouchy when you talk behind my back, Sister."

Damned hearing, Renee thought to herself. She pursed her lips, then commented, "That too."

Sarah was doing some very deep thinking, very deep for a girl of her age. Then she noticed something about the pegasus, something VERY VERY important.

"Mister Civil! Do you believe she was mean to you? Or do you believe, maybe, she was trying to help you?" She was about to burst. The two older women looked down at her with honest surprise, then glanced at each other.

Civil turned his head, slowing a little, "I dunno. She said a lot of stuff that didn't make sense."

Sarah ran ahead of the adults and stopped next to him, "Mommy, don't you see? He's...he's" Civil eyed the girl's hand hovering over the empty area of his flank. Great, here it comes. Mommy...he's...a...blank... "He's a crusader! And he needs all of our love and support!"

Looking back caused him to trip, but he caught himself before he splayed all over the place. "Um, I'm not one of the Cutie-mark Crusaders-"

"No!" exclaimed Sarah. She turned to him and said, "This proves Princess Celestia is not a mean princess! And this is not just about the Cutie-mark Crusaders!"

He stared at Renee, who stared at Sarah, who stared at her mother, who stared at Civil. Renee broke the silence. "Um, yeah, I already had this conversation and I got griped at. No thanks."

Sarah shook her head. "You don't get it, none of you do!" She turned to Civil and looked him in the eyes. "Mister Patrol. Civil. She would never be mean to you. She knew you had to come here, to find your way. She loves all her ponies." She reached out and touched his cheek. "All."

He was moved by her passion. He nodded, "Okay, then she is bestest princess. I can see you are a big Celestia fan." This made Sarah retract her hand.

"I used to be." She wandered back to her mother and held her, watching Civil sadly. He raised his brows and looked up to Alice.

"Did I say something wrong?"

Alice's face hardened a little, but she shook her head. "No. There are some other things that have happened. Part of why my little girl doesn't like to fly anymore." She leaned down and whispered something. Sarah smiled brightly and grabbed Renee's hand.

To placate her surprise, Alice told Renee, "Could you go on ahead, we'll be behind you. I trust you with her. You seem to have your head on straight." This earned a wide grin from Renee and she pulled Sarah along.

"Hey Sarah! Want me to tell you what he was like BEFORE he became a pony, and when we first met AFTER ponification?" The girl squealed in delight and she hopscotched alongside his sister ahead of them.

He looked up at Alice with a questioning expression and she replied, "I think it's time for that 'later' part." He nodded and fell instep alongside her. They walked several feet before she stated, "A couple of years ago, when she was a little younger, my sister, her aunt, took her to a convention, a My Little Pony convention. It was being hailed as the last one, and Sarah had just gotten into the genre, so my sister took her up to Baltimore. Strange, really, that actual ponies would show up so soon after..." She hesitated, looking straight ahead at her daughter. Civil did some math in his head and it lined up with the first portal opening, or close to it. He swallowed. It would seem quite a few lost loved ones around that time.

She shook it off and continued. "Anyway, They went to the convention and enjoyed themselves. Becky was always a child at heart. She loved to dress up, and Alice was her little partner in crime." She pulled out her phone and tabbed through some pictures before she got to the one she wanted and showed Civil. It was taken at the convention, in the dealer room. A younger Sarah and a pleasant looking adult woman with some likeness to Alice were in the scene. Both had colored hair, pastel colors.

He raised his brow and nodded at the picture, "Celestia fans?" Alice nodded.

"Sarah definitely. Becky, she was always the benevolent one. Personality, decision making, the full thing. I watched some of the episodes with Sarah and I didn't really see it, but Sarah was enamored with her, so I didn't argue the point. I certainly didn't bring up any of our early days together, my sister and I." She grinned ruefully to herself in thought. "Yeah, no princess back in the day."

Civil grinned and said consolingly, "I dare say the same could be said for the real Celestia back in Equestria. The stories I've heard...and don't forget, she's a few millenia old. I still think it's a miracle she tries to be good. So..." He paused. He can tell what might be coming next. "I take it something happened?"

Alice nodded and put her phone away. "Baltimore is known for a lot of crime. After the convention, they were staying the night at a nearby motel. I was willing to pay extra for a proper hotel, but Becky wouldn't have it. She said you just have to have faith in people, and she wasn't exactly dripping in jewelry and nice clothing, so they should be alright." She shook her head. "Faith in people." She glanced at Civil, smoldering anger on her face. "I wish you had been with them. That is my faith in 'people'." They walked on for a time, Civil willing to let her speak at her own pace. This would be where she was most vulnerable.

"She went out to get a bucket of ice, and didn't come back. Sarah, God bless her, she waited, and waited, but she knew not to go out and look for her. Eventually she called 911. They showed up and once she was certain they were police, she opened the door. By then, someone else had also found my sister." She paused, her eyes blinking away hot tears. "A single stab wound to the ribcage, ring and necklace gone. They were small semi-precious stones, not even worth the effort to replace if she had lost them. The next twenty-four hours were blurry for me. I still have a hard time trying to remember that night. I flew a redeye with Keith, got a hold of my daughter from the police headquarters, and I had to identify the body."

Civil absorbed all of this, the pain, the details. He asked, "Any suspects, arrests?" She shook her head no.

"They initially had a homeless man as the primary suspect, then they released him. He was in the area and had blood on his hands, but he claimed he had tried to help her, covering up the wound I suppose. They won't tell me more, for fear of ruining the case. They have no weapon, either. Mugging was the claimed motive, but even the police think that is a flimsy thing." She glanced down at Civil. "My daughter used to fly all over the place with Becky. They loved flying to different places, staying in crappy motels. After that night, Sarah almost completely shut down mentally. Just mentioning travel caused her to run into her room and hide, shutting the door and not opening it until she was convinced it was us knocking on it. She still looks at police like they were the ones that took her aunt away since she overheard them talking to us when we flew in that night."

She sighed. "I don't know." Blinking, she reached down and patted his head, causing his ears to flatten in surprise. "You did so much for her today, I can't begin to thank you. If she wants you for a brother, well, you have my vote, despite the nasty comments I made earlier."

Reflexively he nuzzled her hand, caught himself doing it and pulled away with a sheepish look. "Sorry, force of habit," he squeaked out. He cleared his throat and continued when he was sure he didn't sound like a young filly, "Like I told her, that's a lot to ask. We could pretend, I guess? I mean, I can't live with you guys."

Alice gave a throaty laugh. "Perish the thought! You wouldn't want to, anyway. She'd have your mane and tail braided in bows." This earned a shudder from the stallion, which Alice laughed at again.

"I could do the birthday thing."

She nodded, smiling. "Sarah would love that very much. It's a couple of months away, so no rush. You are officially the first invitee. The first since I lost my sister, actually." Civil looked at her sharply, then down at the tiled floor. They were nearing the baggage claim area and he could see his sister standing by a water fountain with Sarah. She said, "Birthdays haven't been the same, either."

"Alright, I'll show up. I just need to know the address and the date." They shared a meaningful look.

Renee said, "Don't worry, Sarah will email that to you, and text it in case you don't read your emails as usual."

He paused and asked, "Email, text?"

She grinned and replied, "Yep! I gave her your phone number and email address. Also mom and dad's mailing address. She wants to be your penpal! Isn't that wonderful?" He stared at her, trying to process all that...and the portent.

Alice took possession of Sarah, noted her husband had their luggage ready to go. She came back to Civil and said, "Again, thankyou for all that you've done-"

"Mommy! Did you tell him where we are going to go now???"

She looked down at her daughter with concern, "Are you sure you still want to go?" A very vigorous nodding made her shrug. She smiled to Civil and explained, "Normally this time of year we visit relatives in Maryland. It's easier to fly here and then rent a car to see them. In the past, it also coincided with the conventions my sister and Sarah would go to. After the flight today, Sarah has expressed interest to go to the convention this year."

A very confused Civil asked, "Wait a minute, I thought that was going to be the last one." She shook her head.

"Not since that whole portal thing, with ponies popping up? The merchandise market for chldren has always been money driven, what with ponies and transformers, G.I. Joe too. We will be going to the one scheduled for next week." She lowered her voice and said, "With a proper hotel, and proper room service." There was an odd tone to her voice, satisfaction and regret intertwined. He nodded in understanding.

He said his goodbyes to them, had a very tearful hug with Sarah, along with promises to write back to her, but SHE had to write first. She grinned, saying she would.

Renee walked with him to their parents where they had their luggage and were moving it to the street outside. He asked about why Sarah had his email address and phone number.

She replied with, "She's a little girl, Jason. You know how they are, write notes in class, check yes, check no. It's a phase. She'll probably send a few messages and then move on to makeup. I know I did. In fact, she probably already misplaced your-"

Ding.

Civil glared at a very innocent looking sister of his and checked his phone. Yep, a message from Sarah. A generic 'hey, what's up' message, along with a synopsis of her parents getting a rental car. He replied with a 'congrats' and a 'hope your drive is safe' message, then he put his phone away.

"Yah, not likely," Civil said to his sister and resumed following their parents. "In fact-"

Ding.

He shook his head and ignored his phone. Despite Renee finding sudden interest in random signs on the wall, he said to her, "Thanks, Renee. She was clingy-" Ding. "-enough. Penpal, my ass. I like the girl-" Ding. "-but she is going to make this-" Ding. "-VERY annoying!"

Renee shrugged. "You could always put the phone on silent."

He glowered at her. "That would be rude."

"I don't see the difference. Look, she's just excited she has a pony friend. A real pony, not just some toys from a store."

"I am NOT-" Ding. "-a toy." Ding. "Goddammit!" He stared at his phone, the message app filled with random questions and statements about what they were doing that minute.

"Oh, pony conventions!" Renee loved doing subject changes. Ding.

"No!" He cut her off as she breathed in to speak, "I mean it!" He stuck the phone in his saddlebag, the nicely muffling leather saddlebag. ding.

She waited until she was sure he wouldn't cut her off. "But you like anime," she said quickly.

He groaned. "For Celestia's sake, that doesn't mean...arg. look, simply imagining you're a super hero or a cosplay character and dressing up is one thing. Being it, being an actual...it doesn't translate well. Trust me on this. I don't need to be glorified on what I am...I have a tough enough time figuring out WHO I am."

He felt her touch his head softly. A rare moment of her showing affection for her brother, everybody get a picture of it. "I know who you are. And it's not like I can't relate." Did she actually understand? "...I took drama class in high school, remember?" Nevermind, she doesn't get it at all.

Karen stopped at the curb and waved to a vehicle down the line. It moved into a free lane and came up to their position. She said over her shoulder, "You ARE drama, Renee."

Her daughter smirked, "I'll take that as a compliment." She stuck her tongue at her brother.

He muttered, "I'm not a cow doctor."

Renee held a hand to her heart, "Ouch, sharp knife, sharp knife!"

A middle-aged man got out of the vehicle and opened the trunk. He grinned at them all, and then he noticed the pegasus. "Hey, Jason!"

Civil smiled and trotted over to the man. "Hi Uncle Joey!" He got a little closer, but noticed Joey wasn't exactly opening up his arms. They stared at each other for a moment.

Joey said, "Sorry kid, I don't know whether to hug you, pet you, or ride you."

Civil boggled and said tartly, "Uncle, you ride me and I'll buck you so hard you'll never ride anyone again. That includes humans."

Joey chuckled heartily and knelt down, opening his arms. "Yowsah, I'm in pain already. Come here, you ball buster."

Civil grinned and reared up, hugging his uncle. "You are the original ball buster."

Joey said quietly, "I love ya, kid. It's so good to see you again."

"Me too."

ding.

Joey peered behind Civil. "Something just dinged in your bags."

"I don't want to talk about it."

After a raised brow, his uncle shrugged, "Fair enough. Let's get you guys in so we can get outa here. Traffic is garbage for the next hour or two."

They all loaded up their bags and people, pegasus included, and were on the way out of the airport arrival area.

ding.

Civil sighed and took the phone out of his bag to peruse the messages. Renee leaned over a little, "She really likes to write. What is she saying now?"

The pegasus had started getting used to the messages. Guess even the most annoying things can be endured if given enough time to get used to them. He replied to her, "She wants to know about magic."

"Then tell her."

He hung his head, staring at his sister, then shook it and said, "I'm a pegasus. I don't know about unicorn magic. She wants to know about teleporting, time travel, moving things around."

"Don't all ponies have some kind of magic?"

"Yeah," he answered, "but it's...harder to explain. Like trying to explain how one eats or breathes."

Renee made a face at him and said, "Boring. Tell her something cool. Like, don't ponies sing or something dumb like that?"

He raised an eyebrow. The music of harmony was a fundamental thing to ponies. It spoke to their souls. It was NOT dumb. Before he responded with what he wanted to say, he paused and thought to himself for a minute. Ding. He stated slowly, "yes...we sing." The corner of his mouth quirked, not unlike the Grinch. He nodded to himself and began replying to Sarah...and he started humming a catchy tune to himself, but just low enough so only Renee heard it. If the others in the vehicle overheard and it took hold...he got rid of the thought and kept humming.

His sister wrinkled her brow. "Why do I know that song?"

He deliberately paused his humming and answered with, "It used to be a meme, back when memes weren't mainstream yet. Here, listen to this." That's when he unleashed his secret weapon. Banana Phone

Renee's eyes went wide and she exclaimed, "no...no no NO!" all the while holding her ears. It was too late. She had heard too much. She shut her eyes and said, "NO! It took me twelve years to get that fucking song out of my head!" She paused, listening, then groaned, "I've got this feeling, so appealing...for us to get together and-" She clapped her jaws shut and shot Civil the Glare of Death. "I'm going to kill you. Awake, asleep, as soon as I figure out how. Why did you play that video!?!"

He smiled and held up a hoof. "I'm not allowed to sing established songs, either by myself or in chorus." He stares at you and quips, "Copyright, am I right?"

Renee smacked him upside the head, "You moron! I meant why did you stick that damn song back in my head again!?! I had to go to therapy to stop it!"

Karen turned around from the front seat and chastised her, "Oh hush, don't be so melodramatic, you've never gone to therapy for anything." She turned back around and kept talking to her brother Joey, catching him up on all that had happened so far since Civil had returned home.

Renee muttered, "I'm NOT melodramatic. I almost went to therapy." She looked out the window, watching the other cars go by. She hummed to herself, "...boop boop ba doo ba doo..." Renee blinked, then growled, "Goddammit Jason, WHY!?!"

Ding.

He stared at his phone, knowing full well she was watching him. Then he primly typed in his response. The next few minutes were in silence as Joey and Karen quietly talked to each other.

Civil muttered, "operator get me Beijing jing jing jing..."

"I fucking hate you."

He smiled, still typing on the phone. After a while he shut down his phone. Not that Sarah was all that annoying now. He just didn't want to run out of stuff to talk about with her. Soon his eyes got heavy and he sat back for a nap.

Occasionally he could hear Renee hum snippets of the banana phone song and then swear to herself.

Author's Note

Renee snarls and punches Civil in the shoulder, jolting him out of his nap. "Ow! What the hell!" "I can't get that stupid song out of my head!" exclaims Renee. Civil stops before he delivers his return punch, sits back, and smiles. He says, "Revenge is a dish best served like sushi." Renee slaps his leg in response, not as forceful this time. "That's not how it goes." He responds, drifting back to sleep, "So sue me, I like food." She watches him for a minute, eyes twinkling. Then she smirks, whispering to herself, "I bet you do...."

All the while, the jaunty banana phone song rattles around in her head, fueling ideas.

Relaxation. Yeah, not anytime soon.

The drive into the countryside of New Jersey was rather pleasant, unlike going through central Dallas or taking the scenic route around it. Civil snorted to himself over the concept of New Jersey even having a countryside, but no kidding, it was there, and his uncle had a nice plot of land and a house in the wooded area. The ride was hilly and went through a lot of tall trees, but it was developed, like the outskirts of a city that had thinned out with large neighborhood type houses within walking distances of their next door neighbors. The large land surrounding the house was also beneficial to large parties one might hold, for instance, if there was the regular wine bottling party Joey held every year, or the pig roasting party he occasionally did...or both, which were apparently being held at Joey's house right this minute, if all the cars were to be an obvious clue.

"Uncle Joey?" Civil squeaked, somewhat shocked. He tried to count the cars while his family stared out the windows. Well, not his mother. She was used to these big gatherings. People were milling about in front of the house, to the sides, everywhere. Most of them he knew as his human relatives from before, when he was Jason.

"Yes boss? What's on your mind?" His normal jovial tone hadn't switched since...forever.

"Please tell me that is not the whole family!?!"

"Naw, that's not the whole family. A bunch of friends are mixed in there, too. But you know them already, so no sweat!" He got out of the car and stretched. "Aw, shit. I still have to make the sausage. Hey, Jason." He snapped his fingers. "No wait, you have another name now, wasn't that right, Renee?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Uncle Joey," she replied quickly. Joey oh yeah'd and made a zipping motion with his mouth.

Civil had no idea what they were talking about, either. He was too busy staring at all the vehicles crowding the lawn, and a portion of the people that were now staring back at him as his family piled out of the car. There were easily 60 to 80 people, if you averaged a few per car.

Joey's face drifted into his view, making him blink. "Yo, space cadet. What's your new name, anyway? God forbid my daughter runs into you and then it's 'Daddy screwed up his nephew's name and made me screw it up.' She really wants to meet you and doesn't want to ruin her first impression. Second impression. Wait, you're still you, right? Anyway, the conniption she would have, my dead mother would hear it from here, God rest her soul."

"Eh, Civ..Civil Patrol," he stammered out, staring at his uncle.

After scrunching his mouth around for a bit, Joey shrugged, "Otay, Civil it is. Oi, who's hungry!?" A round of me's chimed in from Civil's family while he just stumbled along behind them. The pegasus recognized many of the relatives outside the house, who were watching him with a fair amount of interest. Not shock, or surprise, but plain curiosity. They all knew about him. His keen hearing caught some of the whispers, such as 'That's Jason? I thought he'd be, bigger, ya know?' Or, 'Is he a baby horse? Pony, right? They call them ponies now?' or the tamer, 'St. Mary mother of God, he's got wings! They do exist! Honey, get a picture of him, my neighbors will have kittens.' Civil flattened his ears and pressed on, doing his best to ignore them. He knew they didn't mean anything by it, but still. It wasn't until he made it inside the house that he encountered the real threat to his existence at this party. Cousins.

They ranged from the grabby toddlers all the way up to the pervy/grabby teenagers. Maybe not most of them. A few had that look...others were adults and knew enough to give him his space, but the rest seemed to edge forward from the groups of adults like they were drawn to fresh candy. He liked candy, too. He didn't like BEING candy. His nostrils flared, wings rustling just shy of aggressive display. However, most of the children stayed back a bit, their eyes watching someone behind him.

While his parents moved further into the house toward the kitchen following his uncle, it wasn't until he felt a hand on his withers that he realized Renee had moved to his side and was keeping pace. And, she was giving all the children the chilliest look and shaking her head 'no'. It had been a long time since he felt grateful for her presence. This moment had reset that long running clock. He didn't get long to think about it because he smelled, and saw, the most amazing spectacle ever when he entered the kitchen.

There, two of his other uncles, along with Joey joining them, were working a mountain of sausage meat piled up on the island countertop. The mound of red and white material was easily two feet high, four feet long and three feet wide. A large manually cranked sausage grinder stood at the end of the countertop, awaiting the meat. Several canisters of spices were nearby, their contents liberally mixed into the pile and the uncles were working it through to get a thorough consistency.

"Soon as we stuff this into the intestines, we'll start grilling," Joey told Civil, digging right in and taking handfuls of the stuff to put into the metal hopper on the grinder. Another uncle, Nick, grabbed some pig casings and put it over the spigot and nodded to Steve, who began grinding. The meat pushed out and filled the casing, with Nick wrapping butcher string every few inches to make links. They were very efficient, having worked in their father's butcher shop before he sold it back in the day. It was the family tradition back then to work in the family shop until you went to college, and even then come back during summer to work there.

Despite their skill, this was going to take a while before the links were grilled, so Civil hopped up on a stool and sat. Finally getting a chance to look around, he noticed a lot of Christmas decorations were out. Garland everywhere, Santas and elves here and there. He could just make out a Christmas tree in the living room, with colored lights blinking slowly in a syncopated manner.

With Renee standing guard and shooing away the children every so often while adults looked at him with curiosity, Civil accepted the fact that he would be introducing himself anew as the day wore on. Already the first relatives were coming over and shaking his hoof. Aunts, uncles and adult cousins asked if he remembered them. 'How was it as a pony', 'how horrible some ponies had been treated', 'if he could eat meat'. He supposed he could have paid more attention, but his mind just wasn't into a full blown family reunion. Despite all the complaining his uncle would do every now and then about the tasks left to do that day and how he vowed never to do another party, Joey lived for these things, so Civil put on a smile and nodded politely, hugging just about everyone that came over, because that's what Italians did. Not so much kissing the cheeks today...pony fur could be disconcerting. He did allow pats on the head, because let's face it, it felt good as a pony.

While he was engrossed in getting reacquainted with some of the older cousins that had been in his age group as a human, the younger crowd of kids were desperately trying to call Renee over. When she was sure Civil wouldn't be hassled, she wandered over to them and they all began having a very serious conversation with her. Serious for juveniles, at any rate. The oldest one, their leader, was Joey's daughter Vanessa. She was a very spirited fifteen year old and an avid animal lover, with her own flock of ducks in the backyard she had been raising since they were hatched. She also had an extensive collection of MLP merchandise upstairs. Her father never let he attend any of the conventions, only saying when she was an adult she could do whatever she wanted.

Which meant, having seen that her cousin was an actual pony after all the rumors, and a pegasus at that, Vanessa was determined to interact with him. She just had to go through Renee. Civil glanced up to another cousin of his that came close to him, Christopher, after having watched his sister talk in private with the other kids. And he got a full rundown on the 'Vanessa situation'. "How extensive a collection?" Civil asked.

Chris eyed her and murmured quietly, "Generations 1, 2, 3....3.5, and 4. She loves to talk about all their names and personalities. Their cutie-marks too."

Civil opened his mouth, closed it, then looked at him awry, "How do you know about all this? That stuff isn't common knowledge yet."

He smirked at the pegasus and shrugged, "When I was younger, I would look after her at some of the parties your grandfather held, remember? She and I would play ponies together." A raised eyebrow and Chris gave Civil a nonchalant shrug, "I don't care. I wasn't into robots and tanks back then. And I don't give a shit now what people think, I'm married to a beautiful wife, aren't I?" He leaned over to kiss Jill, the woman standing next to him. In a way, he kind of reminded Civil of a pony named Fancy Pants. A little prissy in mannerism, but seriously class A all the way and very confident in himself. When they were younger, Jason didn't really hang out with Chris, more that Chris just wasn't interested in the things Jason was. Kids being kids, he simply didn't think about Chris' effeminate nature.

Back then some of the other cousins acted more masculine and were into things like wall ball or stick ball, shooting off fireworks down the street to set off car alarms (just bottle rockets, nothing M80-like!). Jason used to love all that stuff. Later on, he connected big time with Chris on the cruise his grandparents had taken them all on. They would stay up late, playing various card games like Asshole and Truth or Dare in one of the open air lounges overlooking the vast atrium at the center of the ship. They explored the various stops the ship made, like Jamaica and Cozumel, while hanging out with Jason's grandmother. Those were fun times, and Chris showed him that you didn't have to have gender issues to be in touch with your feelings. Chris had an easy going and emotionally expressive personality. In retrospect, quite a few anime's frequently presented effeminate guys as incredible chick magnets. And as a pony remembering how Equestrian society was, he would have easily hung out with Chris if they were younger. What a turnaround.

Discord had really done a number on his race, Civil thought to himself.

Jill blushed and whispered back, "Staaaawp! You're such a schmooz!" She kissed him back.

Civil shuddered and shook his head, "Please, don't mention schmooz. Bad memories." They laughed at him, grinning.

Jill tittered, "Was that really a thing, that blob ruining the royal ball? Vanessa showed us the episode yesterday! It's so unreal to think that stuff exists."

He nodded, but corrected her, "It was a gala, and yes, it's a thing." He held his hoof up when her face brightened, "No, I wasn't there for that event, but for other stuff. Please don't ask-" He cut himself off and asked, "Wait, she showed you pony episodes yesterday?" They nodded to him. "Um, why?"

Before they could answer, Renee returned and sighed heavily, "Okay, I have good news and I have bad news. Which do you want?" Just then Joey slid an open bottle of Heineken with a straw in front of Civil.

"Here you go, champ. Looks like you are going to need it." He grinned, glancing between us and the gaggle of cousins moving off to the backyard area, his daughter lingering behind as she watched Civil. He waved to her and got back to the meat packing. He didn't get long to work it because she psst at him to get his attention and waved him over to her in the living room. Wiping off his hands, he attended to his daughter. "This should be interesting," he mumbled to himself.

Civil pointedly quipped to Renee, "Neither," and started drinking from the straw. Chris and Jill gave Renee beaming smiles and hugged her, saying hello. She in turn congratulated them on their marriage and asked when they would be due, because, fuck it, Renee was just going to get into everypony's business today, Civil groused to himself. They said 'nope' about being pregnant, insisting they needed a better place before they could start raising a family.

All through the exchange Civil steadily drank down his beer. His metabolism was different now, so beers shouldn't have any effect on him. Renee, for her part, was skilled enough to divide her attention between their cousins, and watching him. She wrinkled her nose and grinned at the same time when her brother began slurping out the last drops out of the bottle with his straw, occasionally smiling to Chris and Jill while responding to their questions about her schooling and life in general. At length they figured she wanted to talk to her brother and made comments about moving to the porch outside.

Some of the cooking smells were drifting in, which also helped speed things along. Renee smiled and waved to them as they headed out. Finally she said, "So, the good news. I convinced all the younger kids to ask you individually if they can pet you when you are not speaking to other people, and if you say 'no', they are to leave you alone."

His response was a very loud belch. All three of his uncles cheered, Joey having returned from his 'secret meeting' with his daughter a few minutes ago. Nick yelled, "Oh hey! Who let the lion in the house!?!" Joey walked by, clapping Civil on the back.

His mother, from across the house where she was chatting with some friends she went to college with, somehow knew it was him and yelled, "JASON! Where are your manners!"" Other guys yelled 'Salute!' and drank whatever spirits they had in hand, or better yet, drank from their wives' drinks, earning smacks on shoulders for stealing said drinks.

Renee sniffed and said flatly, "Niiiiice, Jason. You aren't fit for public consumption." He stuck his tongue out at her and pulled a bowl of chips over to him. Grabbing another bowl filled with salsa, he began eating as though he didn't have a care in the world, because he didn't at this point. She watched him with some disgust before continuing, "And then there's the bad news." He paused on a chip, eyeing her. She smiled sweetly and held up a hand, "Now don't get upset. I was trying to keep the more belligerent tykes off of you. I said if any of them insisted on having one-on-one time with you, they needed to pay five hundred dollars. Cash. They'd have a death wish if they broke my rules, otherwise. I got the idea from a fanfic online." He choked on the half eaten chip, spluttering into the bowl. Renee clapped his back a few times.

When he could finally speak, he exclaimed, "Dammit, Renee, what's wrong with you!?! Charging them five hundred bucks to see me, like some sideshow freak?" To her credit, she put on a very hurt expression. Not one the great drama queen of Guilford County High School would put on, mind you. It was real hurt.

This wasn't the first time she'd had ridiculous ideas regarding money. As a kid she had found a garden snake in the backyard, stuck it in an old fish tank and put up a sign that read 'See the snake 10 sents an awr.' Not only did their father NOT correct the sign, he even paid her a Celestia-damned dime! He didn't spend an hour in the garage, though. Civil snorted at the memory. Renee mistook Civil's reaction to that memory as a reply to her current idea. Then again, might as well have been.

"I was trying to protect you from them! I thought five hundred would be too high for any child to have in their pockets. And I didn't want it sounding so ridiculous that they'd dismiss it out of hand and bother you anyway! Haven't you noticed, none of them have been running up to grab your wings or yank your hair or tail!?" A verbal correction from him that it was a mane and not hair earned him a glower from her.

"Come on, Jason! I'm not amoral." True, most of the older cousins had drifted out to the back yard where the fun and games were. Sure, a real pegasus is rad, but grilling, cotton candy machine (Joey goes all out at these parties), and volleyball was more fun than a grumpy pegasus you couldn't get near. Still, a few young ones were lingering behind, lurking around the corners in the hallway and living room. They watched and waited for their opportunity. To strike like jackals, Civil thought to himself.

A few of the adults nearby shook their heads solemnly at him. Yeah, fine, he felt like shit now. He sighed and nodded, "Okay, okay. It's actually a good idea...just, I dunno. I'm tired of having to deal with outrageous bullshit, you know?" She smiled and nodded.

"I get it. I'm here for you, alright?" She ruffled his mane atop his head, the ears twitching out of the way. He smiled gratefully and resumed eating. His quasi-acceptance of the arrangement must have been like some telepathic signal. Right away the first cousin of the pack came up to him, and with forced acceptance, he greeted the child. After that, it was a random procession of hello's, this time with the younger generations. Occasionally a younger cousin would find their way to him, ask if they could pet him. He agreed, but for only a minute, and then there would be the petting. Random pictures were taken by parents and non-parents, and he forced a grin through it all while Renee was always nearby, making sure 'the deal' was kept. Never a group, and never a pushy child. A few no's were given, such as 'can so-and-so ride him?' No. 'Can they tickle him?' No. 'But they had never tickled a pegasus before and-' NO. 'Oh those wings look lovely can I tou-' 'I will buck you into the next-' (gasp from a very excitable parent), sigh...'no.'

Once sausage links started getting delivered back into the kitchen from the grill outside, Civil was forgotten. Food was food, and Italians rated a good party on its food. Which meant he was left alone. And Renee being Renee, a force of nature in the socializing department, she nipped off to get some sausages from outside, promising she would bring a few back for him. He would have gotten some from the batch that was just brought into the kitchen, but the crowd around the countertop island was too thick for even a starving pegasus to get a wing in edgewise.

As for her promise to return, yeah right. He could see her laughing and social butterflying around from one person to another out on the porch. The house was built on a hill, so the first floor ended at the back a good story above the ground, the basement accessible through a doorway under the porch. Before he could find something else just as boring to stare at, the door underneath the staircase behind him opened up and Joey poked his head out, "Oi, Pat, come down here, I want to show you something."

Civil twisted around, wrinkling his nose. " 'Pat', seriously?" His uncle shrugged and disappeared into the...closet? Oh yeah, that door was a second stairwell going down into the basement, whereas the one at his parents' house was just the coat closet. Texas wasn't into basements that much, on account of the weather and soil. He jumped off the stool and followed his uncle down the wooden steps and into the cool basement. It was fairly large, part of it converted to a catering hall where large tables were set up with prepared food on it. Some of the aunts and second and third cousins had made there way to the tables and were noshing on items like fresh mozzarella on tomato slices, olives, good hard crust breads, other cheeses, mostly antipasto. One wall was lined with wooden wine barrels. When his uncles made wine, they went all out. There were some wine racks, though only a few bottles were actually on them. His uncles also drank or gave away a lot of that wine. He grinned while Joey led him over to those racks in the back and pulled out a case hidden in the shadows. Opening it, he saw that it was a handgun. He raised his brow at his uncle.

"Yeah, I know, it's not like the military, but now they're letting us carry these in case terrorists force their way into the cockpit. I had to go to a special course. You know we have to use a certain kind of ammo in the plane?" Joey picked it up. It was a revolver. Low on ammo, nearly impossible to jam. Opening the cylinder, Joey pulled out a bullet and showed his nephew while placing the gun back into the case.

Civil nodded, "Yep, don't want to depressurize the plane while trying to take down a terrorist, in case you miss." He stood on his hind legs and went to pick up the gun, only to paw at it with his hoof. It had been a few years since he'd picked up a handgun, like the Beretta 9mm Air Force officers were issued when going overseas. He'd forgotten he was unable to pick up and use a gun, among other things, now that he had hooves. There weren't a lot of human items on the Equestrian side. Doubting they made prosthetics for ponies just to shoot weapons (because that shit would be insane, ponies flying around with guns!), he made an audible sigh and sat back down on all fours.

Joey winced and said, "Oh hell, sorry bud, forgot. That's a real bummer...But hey!" He lit up, patting Civil on the head. "You have killer wings now. Actually, hold that thought!" He put the gun case away and sat down at a nearby large barrel that had been crafted into a quaint wine drinking table. He took a bottle of red wine from a wooden crate and opened it, filling a glass and slid it to Civil, "Here try this. It's a Cabernet blend. I think it came out well this year." Looking down at the wineglass, Civil tilted his head with a sardonic smile. Joey tapped his own head, "Oh, shit, right. Straw." He wandered over to the shelves, rustled through some packages, and pulled out a large bag of straws. Pulling one out, he stuck it into the glass.

After taking a long sip, Civil nodded, "Nice, very sweet..." He thought to himself, then took another sip. He blinked at the glass, then squinted at Joey, "These aren't normal grapes, are they?"

His uncle laughed and shook his head, "I was wondering if you'd notice! Everyone else just thinks it was a good crop, what with the weather we've had. 'Another' benefit to pony weather in the region..." He trailed off, watching Civil with a twinkle in his eyes.

Civil took another sip, then nodded with amazement. "Vintage earth pony vineyard. Local?"

Joey grinned and took a sip for himself, then answered, "Nope, had to ship them from Pennsylvania. Well, I suppose local if you consider it from Earth. Hey, you can taste that brightness, with the undertones of currant. That was so tough to pull out from the other grapes we were using. This stuff is exploding with flavor compared to last year's. Here." He grabbed another bottle off the small bar nearby and poured that one into Civil's empty glass. One swig and the pegasus was grimacing.

"Oh, that one's horrid." He looked apologetically to his uncle, but then he frowned, glancing at the bottle. "No. I had that one before. It wasn't bad then, or even now...except, it only tastes bad AFTER you drink the previous one." Huh, a vineyard out in Pennsylvania. That and the weather in this area, his people must have been making a decent dent in human society. Good for them.

"Yeah, exactly." His uncle drank the rest of Civil's glass and made a small grimace of his own, then filled it back up with the good stuff. Civil knew good when he tasted it, so he happily put the straw back in and sipped to his heart's content. Joey got another glass and filled his own, took another drink, then stared at his nephew for a while.

"Look at you!" He exclaimed, finally grinning.

Smiling lopsidedly, Civil smiled back, "Yeah look at me. You always wanted me to earn my pilot's license. Now that will never happen." He felt down all of a sudden. His head swam a little, too. He knew ponies didn't get too slammed on the alcohol here...oh wait, this was pony stuff. He looked back at his glass. It was empty again.

"Oh come on! LOOK, AT, YOU!" For emphasis, Joey waved his hand over all of Civil. "You're beautiful! Look at those wings. You are the envy of every pilot I know. And I made sure they knew MY nephew was a pegasus! Oh god, those are some jealous bastards. Every one of them can never experience what I bet you take for granted. You just hop up and fly wherever. Damn, even I'm jealous!" He drank the rest of his wine. Then he looked over at the older bottle from last year. He muttered, "Yeah, that stuff is shit." Moving over to a sink, he poured the bottle out. For an Italian...forget that, for JOEY to pour out wine that was not really all that bad in taste, this new stuff had to be so much more palatable to humans, prompting the waste. Civil understood his taste buds would be different as a pony, and having imbibed pony spirits as a pony in the past, he understood.

"So tell me," his uncle asked while tossing the empty bottle in a plastic tub to be cleaned with the growing pile empty bottles in it, "how did you get your wings?"

Wince. The pegasus looked down at his glass. He glanced up, remarking, "You would ask that. You are aware I was a pony before I was human, right?"

"Yep." Joey sat down and sighed, then shrugged. "Vanessa told me all about it. She loves those toys, all over her room, stuff is everywhere. Went bananas when she found out about you."

"Really? So...who doesn't know, I guess I should ask? The whole friggin family is here!"

A wave was all he got for his efforts. "At this point, kiddo, I wouldn't worry about it anymore." Joey offered him some more wine.

"Gee, thanks." Pushing his glass away in refusal, knowing he probably had enough already, he saw some of his cousins playing outside in the backyard through the window. A few were throwing a frisbee. Some were playing volleyball or badminton. Joey had set out all those games more to keep the hellions busy and off his ass than anything else. When the weather is nicer, he goes upstream and dumps everybody there with inner tubes and drives back to work on the next meal while they spend hours floating back. Dude could run an amusement park if he wanted.

As another quiet pause settled in, they stared at each other. After a minute, Joey said softly, "I knew there was something special about you when Karen brought you to our house, all wrapped up in that small blanket hospitals give babies. I was still in high school. I told my mother, 'keep an eye on that one.' The oddest thing was, she said, 'yes, I know.' She always did favor you. Even over some of us, back then." He mused over the memories. Both Joey's parents had passed years ago. Civil sometimes remembered them in his dreams. Before he could ask about his human grandmother's favoritism, Joey asked, "About those wings...eh?" He grinned, looking like Bud Costello from the old black and white comedy movies.

Civil couldn't say no to his uncle, who had treated him like his little brother since pretty much before he could remember. Every summer and Christmas his family would visit Brooklyn, and Joey was there living across the street back then. He'd take Jason into ride bikes to the park, cooking in the kitchen, would give him rides on his motorcycle. One summer Joey gave a very young Jason a whole bag of fireworks and told him 'Don't blow yourself up, and don't tell your mother.' If Joey's father was the greatest fun relative in Jason's lifetime, then Joey was the runner up.

He finally gave in."Fine, why not? Mom doesn't know much about it, and she'll have a heart attack if she finds out what really happened." He paused, glancing around to make sure nobody was nearby. In a lowered voice, he said, "I lied to my parents, told them I was stateside at the time I changed up in Oklahoma. I was actually overseas, TDY for an exercise."

Joey sat back, stunned. "No shit? She mentioned...." He wasn't sure what he was allowed to say now. The curse of having a good heart led to being a terrible spy in the gossip realm.

"Yeah." Civil didn't feel good, remembering it now. Remembering WHY he lied. And it wasn't just about the experiments that he narrowly avoided.

"Okay. She told me about the dissection part. Is that part of why you lied?" Civil nodded, chuckling that they were both thinking the same thing. Joey smirked and reached over to clap Civil on the shoulder. "Fuck it, yer safe now. For her sake, mum's the word. Alright?" His uncle poured the rest of the wine went into his own glass. This story was going to need some liquid courage. Glancing at the pegasus across the table, he pushed his glass over to him, Civil eyed it warily, then looked up at Joey.

With an encouraging nod from the older man, Civil picked up the drink and stared into its contents, the movement of the blood red liquid mesmerizing in the dim light. His favorite color has always been blue, like his eyes...but red, the dark color of ruby, like hair with an inner fire.... "Conveniently enough, it all started WHILE I was flying, at least the important shit, anyway."

***

I knew I could fly because I was scouting ahead and behind in the air, just in case any monsters were around. At least, I think that was my state of mind. Dreams can be tricky like that. I was also looking for their parents. Those two tiny unicorns, now helpless, and barely able to control their magic. It was odd what ideas played themselves out in your brain while you were dreaming, that you could know deep into your core that you were not human, and it was okay. That magic existed, and it was okay. That a multi-species sack of shit had been hounding you for a week now. No, that garbage was not okay, but there wasn't much you could do except run, and protect these two fillies. And yet, all of that HAD to be a dream. Right? When you were in the dream, no matter how bizarre the reality, it was reality. I can typically remember dreams, and always in color, too. Some dreams fade as soon as you wake up. This one, I remembered well. I also remembered the fear, like a timberwolf's splintered canines getting ever closer to my neck...

A wolf, made out of wood timbers!?! I swear if there wasn't always the threat of being piss tested in the military, I would have asked around if anybody saw me take drugs the night prior, or if anybody had drugs to make my dreams less weird.

The shuddering sound along with the rattling vibration throughout the flight deck wakes me up from my deep thinking, whacked out thinking that I should probably put behind me. As a navigator on the AWACS, I am part of the flight crew tasked with keeping this plane from crashing or getting off course, after all. Dozing wasn't exactly an Air Force sanctioned thing up front, even if you have another set of eyes keeping tabs on the instruments and radios. But with the lengthy hours we fly, it is more of a gentleman's agreement not to fuck it up for everyone else.

I barely crack my eyes open to watch both the aircraft commander and the copilot stare out into the sky, searching. The guest flyer in the jump seat just behind the left pilot's seat and directly in front of my sitting position is looking, too. Is he that gullible?

"Did you see any tracers?" That is Captain Keith Oberman, in the copilot's seat, because he is the copilot, ya know.

"Nada. Guess the ground crew skimped on us again. Flight Eng, make a note. 'Mix in tracers when we have visitors' and pass that to the munitions guys, kay?" That is Colonel Sam Hoffman, aircraft commander as well as our squadron commanding officer. He is pretty solid with all his subordinates, stern but fair. I suppose those qualities are what keep me sane and alive in the near future, now that I think back on it.

In any case I glance to the flight engineer and roll my eyes. He shrugs and clicks on his mic. "Yessir, will pass that onto the maintainers."

After another minute passes of looking around at the sky, the guest gets up. I think he is some attache' with England's military. I usually don't pay attention to crap like that.

"Thankyou for the view. I'm going to the back now to get something to eat." He takes off his headset, hangs it on the jump seat hook just behind the pilot and picks his way past me and the engineer. Once he passes the bulkhead separating the flight deck from the rest of the plane, I key up on the flight deck net, the local comms that only the pilots, myself and the engineer can hear.

"That has to be the stupidest prank we do. With respect, sir." He is a colonel, after all.

Col. Hoffman chuckles and stretches his arms, glancing back up at the panel above his head and the stick shaker button he had pushed a minute ago. All it does is test the shaking mechanism that provides tactile feedback through the yoke to warn pilots of imminent stall. "Oh, ye of little faith, Nav. You'd be surprised how many people fall for that one. Hell, when you first arrived, we got you to hand spin the rotors in the engine, you know, to alleviate metal fatigue on startup?" That is followed up by raucous laughter from the copilot and engineer.

I smirk. "Hah hah. Whatever. It was just the one time. We'll ignore the grease they put on the mouthpiece while I was on the flightline and that weird bug I know one of you assholes stuck in my coke last week. If hand spinning an engine is the only stupid thing I didn't catch on to, hell, I'm doing spectacular compared to what I've seen this crew pull already."

In response, Hoffman turns back to me. "Don't sit pretty just yet, we have tons of-" His words drop off and he squints his eyes. Then he glances at his copilot and back at me, asking, "Nav, please tell me you put on a wig sometime while we've been in orbit, because I don't remember your hair being that long when we got here. I went to take a piss not too long ago and it wasn't like that, either."

Thinking we are still pranking, I run my fingers through my hair and say, "Wow, you people are desperate. I had a fucking haircut like two...weeks...ago?" I pause, my hand continuing to go through hair far longer than it should be. I frown. "Okay, that's bullshit. You mess with another dude's hair and it's open season." I'm actually annoyed now, glaring at the two guys sitting up front, fuck their ranks.

What is really bothering me is, the hair isn't exactly bothering me. Normally I hate long hair. Ever since I started cutting it short in high school, I preferred short hair. Now, it is comfortable, like an old ball cap you hold onto over the years. I feel someone yank my locks from behind and I pull away from the overly curious engineer's hand.

"Holy shit, that wig is on there. How did you sneak that on?"

"I have no idea what this is. Yay, you guys got me again. But this is a new low. I will seek revenge." Not too upset for some reason, I sweep the bangs out of the way, tucking it behind an ear. I always liked it tucked back there, over the right ear.

...where the fuck did that come from?!

The aircraft commander watches me for a few seconds and then looks forward. He keys up the mission net and asks for the mission crew commander to get on headset in the back. Next he clicks the flightdeck comms. "Hey nav, mind getting me a bottle of water from the cooler?"

I shrug and respond, "Sure thing, sir. Anybody else?" Noting a round of negatives from everypony else, I shrug and extract myself out of the cramped flight deck and stretch behind the bulkhead, next to the exit door of the plane. Muscles and joints all over give nice satisfying pops. Especially my hips. They were starting to cramp up on me while in that uncomfortable seat. The radio techs sitting behind their panel are watching me and talking to each other about me, but I ignore them. I've gotten used to ignoring a lot of things about others when attention is directed at me.

I walk past the radio section and venture further back into the plane. As I pass mission crew members, weapons officers and equipment techs, they all give me odd looks. Some are openly staring while others try to make like they are not, but I raise my eyebrow at them and they return to what they are doing.

When I pass the weapons pit, the section where the weapons guys are behind monitors directing fighters and strike packages, I see the mission crew commander, a Major William Powell, murmuring into his headset mic. The odd thing is, despite the drone of the engines, the airwash over the fuselage and even that keening sound of the rotodome spinning directly overhead on top of the plane, I can still hear his words if I turn my head just so and direct my left ear at him. Normally I could give a rat's ass what he's saying. Except, this time when I catch a snippet of his conversation, it causes me to pause.

"I see the lad, hair and all. Appreciate it if we discussed this off net, avoid exciting the crew."

Whatever. I'll go bald if I have to, just to fuck with everyone.

Once I reach the kitchen galley, I decide to forego the cooler and head into the lavatory where there is a mirror. With the door closed, a light comes on automatically, a stark contrast to the dim lighting back in the rest of the plane to help everyone's eyes acclimate to their monitors.

I stare at the long black hair on my head. Initially I'm not sure what to make of it. It's not the usual dark brown, and it is longer than I have ever had it before, military regulations aside. Pulling on it, inspecting the roots, yanking a strand out, while slightly painful, all show it to be real.

Now I'm starting to get worried. I sit down on the lid of the toilet to go over my options. Panic. Stay in the lavatory, or shrug it off and cut the hair when we land. Not much of a choice, considering the first two have no good ending. I get up and open the door, not bothering to unlock the loud latch since I didn't lock it to begin with. I suppose that is what allows me to witness Col. Hoffman and Maj. Powell's conversation since they were not alerted to me.

"Why wasn't this caught earlier? He's twenty-five! He had an examination yesterday! He shouldn't be flying." They were near the bunks, talking in low voices. I should think it is odd that I can hear them from here over all the ambient noise, but their exchange is too interesting for me to think of anything else.

Hoffman replies, "I don't know. The hair is the second symptom and we only just noticed it a few minutes ago. He's not acting any different other than he thinks we played a joke on him."

Powell frowns back at the aircraft commander, "Well this is no joke. I've already cancelled our activity for the rest of the day due to a 'physiological emergency'. We need to leave orbit and R.T.B. before he kicks a hole in the side of the plane, or God forbid grows a horn and blows us up."

Sighing, the AC shakes his head, "I doubt that will happen, he's a good kid. Whatever this is, we'll weather it. Just reassure your people everything is going to be alright. A panic is the last thing we need up here."

"No shit." The major notices I'm standing partway out of the lavatory, turns back to Hoffman and says, "I have to call this in. If we break seal without following quarantine, it's all our asses. You know that."

The AC glances my way with a deeply concerned look. He asides to Powell, "Yeah, I know. I also know that whole contamination story is bullshit, but you do what you need to. Tell the Co to make his way out of the orbit and get us headed back. I'll have a chat with Berringer." The major nods and goes forward. With a heavy look at me, Hoffman moves to one of the spare seats near the bunks and sits down, motioning for me to sit next to him. Still not knowing what is going on and why everypony...everyone is treating me like I'm a leper, I sit. Did I just think the term 'everypony'? He begins speaking, breaking my train of thought.

"First, I have to ask you something. I need you to be completely honest with me. Can you do that?" I nod, not knowing what the hell he is going to ask. The last time I had a sit down with a commanding officer, it was not pretty. My throat starts to go dry. "Alright. For the last few evenings, what have your dreams been like?"

I can't help but laugh at the seemingly innocuous question. "My dreams? I thought you were informing me of some disciplinary measure for messing up the route again or stepping on somepony's toes because I said something."
Despite my sense of relief, my superior is still watching me cautiously. In fact, his expression gets a little stonier, if that is possible.

"Just humor me. Have you had anything distressing, unusual, confusing?" He pauses, gauging his next words. "Any monsters or animals involved?"

Now it's my turn to frown. I can feel a sliver of ice run down my spine. He asked a very broad question and stated a couple of very specific details. Details I had in fact been dreaming about.

I look over at the ice chest near the lavatory. Oh yeah, the water bottles. I point to it and he nods. Getting two bottles, I sit back down and offer him one.

He gives it an odd look, not immediately taking it. Just past awkward and shy of rude, he finally reaches over and grabs the bottle from me.

Drinking from my bottle, I feel better about talking. "It's weird you should mention monsters. Two nights ago, I dreamt about running from monsters. Fought some, too. I was protecting a couple of mares. Guess it's my subconscious side flexing hero muscles I don't use while in the waking world. Hah." I drink some more.

He asks quietly, "Protecting mares?"

"Yeah, well, they weren't full grown mares. More like fillies, young ones."

"Mares, as in horses." It isn't a question, but I miss the odd tone in his voice.

"Actually, ponies, not horses." I blink, finally realizing what I have been talking about. Mares and fillies? Seriously, am I that tired?

"Why not humans?" He's nearly mirroring my thoughts, now.

"...I don't know. They were so vulnerable...." I gulp down some water, if nothing else but to shut myself up. Celestia knows, a lot of others have tried to do that.

"Were you human?" He hasn't shown any reaction to my answers since I gave him his water. He hasn't opened the bottle yet, either.

"What kind of question is that, sir?" Looking at him sidelong, I'm trying to figure out if I'm starting to lose it. I could be getting hypoxic. That would mean the cabin pressure was causing the oxygen in the air to thin out. Strangely enough, air thinness doesn't alarm me. It should. We've trained in the altitude chamber to recognize the signs.

Now he shows some kind of reaction. A hardening of his eyes, as well as a subtle change to his voice tells me rank has not been cast aside in this conversation. He replies sternly, "The kind that has a 'yes' or a 'no' answer to it, son. I need to know. Were you human?"

"....no." For some reason, I feel that small word has locked in whatever chain of events is about to unfold. Later on, once things had settled down, I contemplated what might have been if I had lied and said 'yes'. I came to the conclusion that I would be dead. But here and now, I am alive, and really really confused.

"Okay." He sighs and looks around the cabin, assessing the mood of the crew in visual range. Still not visibly upset, it appears to me. Looking at me, he says, "I'm going to need you to stay seated back here when we leave orbit and RTB. You are still an officer and are expected to act as such, am I clear?"

"Yessir, crystal!" Now I am completely scared. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out they see me as a threat.
An airman walks up to us and whispers in the colonel's ear. He nods back and grimaces. The airman returns to his console and my boss eyes the bottle he has yet to open. The plane shifts and banks, an indication we are leaving the orbit area and proceeding to base. The colonel knows this, and per policy he should be up front talking to Air Traffic Control while making sure his copilot is handling things.

Yet he is still sitting next to me.

"There have been a lot of rumors going around this past week. All over the world, a phenomenon is occurring. Transformations. Are you aware of it?"

I shook my head. "Nothing on the news, online or TV. Youtube is full of garbage so I usually stay away from that." Being deployed, newsfeed is relegated to whatever internet options are available on base, via smart phone or public use computers. Of course there is CNN, but fuck those political bastards. I pause for a moment and reach up to touch my hair. Is it a little longer now? "Sir," I start tentatively. "Are you suggesting I'm...changing?"

His reply is a somber one. "A very strong possibility, Jason."

He's using my first name, a common tactic to build a rapport with someone having mental issues. I drop my hand and stare at him intently, hoping to see some glimmer of a smile. "No bullshit, this isn't some elaborate prank? Because I'm not feeling all that comfortable right now."

"No bullshit. We can be assholes to each other from time to time, but there are limits." He has been watching me, measuring. He's concerned I will flip out and cause an inflight emergency. I look away for a minute. Then I take the seat belt and firmly secure it across my waist, tightening out the slack. But I don't look at him now.

While I'm staring off at some spot to the rear of the plane, I feel his hand on my shoulder. I had always heard about the thousand yard stare, that look a foot soldier gets when he has seen too much of the world, things he'd just as soon forget, but can't. Now I imagine that is what my superior is witnessing me do. I have never been in a gun fight or such horrible experiences as some of our blessed ground troops, a common reason why Air Force gets dumped on by other branches of service. Already I have a sneaking suspicion I am going to witness more than I can stomach.

However, I am a soldier. Air or ground, I swore an oath to protect my country and my military companions from all enemies, and I will keep it. Even if it's from myself. "Okay, sir." I turn my head to him, focusing on his face. "Lay it all out. What is happening to me, how long, what happens when we land?"

He takes a minute and glances down at his bottle in hand, forgotten until now. He uncaps it and chugs half the bottle. Once he has wet his throat, now comes the information dump.

"It appears to be a four day process. First day starts when you reach the age of twenty five, with markings appearing on your outer thighs or hips." He points to my lower side, "That area."

Before he can continue, I loosen the lap belt, unzip the front of my flightsuit and twist around my lower body, pulling down each side of my boxers to inspect myself. Nothing.

He watches me quietly. When I zip back up, he shrugs. "Hence the physical on your birthday. Not sure why you don't have the mark, but it is a dead giveaway. That and the bizarre dreams."

I smirk at him, trying to inject some levity into this surreal situation. "I thought it was weird getting an impromptu physical out of the blue. And here I thought you higher ups were getting suspicious that I wasn't boozing it up at the O-club every night."

He chuckles. "Nothing like that. Honestly it's refreshing to have an officer not acting like a shithead every once in a while." The moment of light humor passes, so he continues. "Day two seems to show more indications, changes in hair length, hair color, eye color...by the way what is your normal coloration, the eyes?"

I frown, not really liking all these things. I belatedly answer, "Brown...why?"

"They're blue now."

"God dammit!" I look away. I don't remember seeing them different in the mirror. Although I wasn't exactly looking at my eyes then. I groan out, "And then?"

He smiles apologetically, "This next stuff gets weird for you. Your body tends to start changing into, well, a horse-type creature. You called them ponies in your dreams. Third day produces a lot of fur, everywhere. Don't ask, it was embarrassing enough when I saw it myself."

Now that's interesting. I calm myself down, regarding him suspiciously. "You saw it yourself. Who was it?"

That stony look again. "Privileged information, Nav." Figures.

I shift my position, the seat becoming uncomfortable. A discussion about losing one's humanity can do that. "Alright, so when does all this wrap up? When do I become...something else?"

"On or about the fourth day. Like I said, this thing has only just started a week ago all over the place, and there's no rhyme or reason to who it hits...except, well the twenty-fifth birthday mark, but no other links."

Sighing, I sit back in my seat and stare ahead of me. The AC doesn't move, spending the next few minutes to quietly watch me, for crew safety more than anything. We are interrupted in our earth-shattering silence when a large, dark skinned radio operator walks up to us. Hoffman glances up and asks, "Can I help you, RO?"

"Yes, sir." He has a low heavy voice. Think Green Mile. "MCC thought you might be needed up front soon. I'm to watch...him." Normally he is unflappable. Guess being this close to a mutant is throwing off his cool game.

The colonel gives me one last look, gets up and squeezes my shoulder. "Hang in there. It'll work out." He makes his way to the front of the plane. The Radio Operator, on the other hoof, sits down next to me, taking the colonel's seat, securing his own lap belt. Without so much as a glance my way, he pulls out his cell phone and starts playing Angry Birds.

I'm almost amused at his casual nature. He has to know there's something going on with me, what with my now very long black hair (I've given up trying to figure out when it went from brown to black) and blue eyes. Although him not noticing my eyes might be a good thing. Any dude that big staring into another dude's eyes...yah, not my style.

"I suppose you aren't afraid of contracting the mutant disease?" I mutter to him.

He pauses briefly, the yellow bird held back in the slingshot. "Nope. Sir." Zip goes the yellow bird plowing into pig buildings. He adds, "We've been buttoned up together for the last few hours. If we got it, we got it." Hm, simple enough.

I shrug and settle back again. "Well, don't worry about me. Anything I do at this point will just make things worse for me."

Without pausing, he replies, "Things are always at their worst before they get better, sir." He flicks his eyes at me and shows me a shadow of a grin. "The brass is worried about you. Not me. I'm here to make them feel better as much as anything else." He goes back to his game.

Shaking my head, I sigh. "Yeah, gotcha." After all that had gone on, including the colonel's prediction of what I am to expect in the coming days, I let the pause in conversation become a reflective quiet. The RO is content to focus on his game and I have one more hour before we land. I swear I close my eyes and in an instant, we are already down, done with taxiing and most of the crew is packed up, ready to go.

The RO is gone, replaced by another tech I don't know, but my attention is not on him. It is on the crew members standing near the rear door, waiting. They occasionally glance through the port window and then at me, as though an alien is going to pop out of my chest before they can escape.

There is movement outside. One of the techs looks back at us and says, "You're not going to believe this. They have a plastic tunnel and they're extending it out to us." This is met with several of the crew swearing.

"What the fuck, it's not like he's E.T or something!" one of them said.

When the door finally opens up I find myself in that very scene where several medical persons walk in, encased in hazard suits looking like spacemen. The upside is they don't have rifles, but I know how this is going to go. I just sit there and wait until everyone else deplanes. Colonel Hoffman is last. He looks down at me and says, "It'll be alright, Berringer. They'll want to give you another examination. After that, we'll figure things out." After he leaves, the spacesuits cautiously move in and help me stand, their movement deliberate, as though I'm going to zombie out in front of them. Morons.

Walking down the airstairs to the tarmac, I notice more soldiers standing a distance with rifles. Everything outside the tunnel is slightly blurry due to the plastic, so I don't recognize anypony. The colonel is up ahead, talking loudly through the wall of the tunnel to one man on the outside. He seems out of place wearing a black suit and blue tie. Doesn't look military. Must be a bureaucrat. He's holding a silk handkerchief over his mouth, eyeing me like the plague.

"Colonel, we don't have much time. I shouldn't even be out here, but it was thought you'd need more than just emails to get all of you to stick to established protocols. My boss was correct, wasn't he?" I hate him already.

We continue past them, my boss sparing a look of confidence my direction before addressing the suit. I don't see the rest of the exchange as I'm escorted into an ambulance at the end of the tunnel. Finally I get to sit down, if only to be strapped into a gurney. My feet, legs and hips were hurting to the point I had to walk on the balls of my feet the last several yards. Once the doors are locked and they secure the buckles on my straps, med techs outside detach the tunnel and off we go to the hospital. I will just skip over that part. Aside from it being mostly degrading, all they did was conduct medical examinations, poke and prod me, take blood samples until I had more holes than a crack whore. The worst part was the stupid question-and-answer sessions (one more question about my mother and I am going to buck them. Hard).

Next I find myself in a room with a bed, table, two chairs, and a large mirror on one wall. I'm no idiot, I know exactly what that mirror is all about. The entire time they've had a security forces airman on my ass. You know, 'to make sure I'm protected.' At some point earlier, everypony removed their suits and masks. I think they explained it wasn't an airborne or fluid vector, whatever. Something about spontaneous mutation, along with bizarre theories of the X-men movies being a warning to soften the impact of just such a societal upheaval. When they were discussing other possible transmission sources, I stopped listening. Like I said, morons. This didn't feel like a disease, I kept telling them. Naturally I was not in a position to carry much weight with the scientific community.

In any case, this room of white walls, furniture, and the large mirror is to be my place of residence for the unforeseeable future. Alone. I approach the glass and tap on it, noting a slightly delayed sound echoing behind it. Yeah, there's a room behind this thing. They fear me, because I am changing into something else, thus I must be watched. The strange thing is I know there is more than one person in there.

Not that I can see through the glass. But I can hear them, in that room. Actually, not at the moment, I'm too close to the mirror. I walk away from the glass, wandering about the room until I'm in just the right spot. Ah, there. Voices, barely audible. The sound waves seem to bounce just the right way. Walking upright is really getting to me. I drag the bed over just enough so I can sit down in this spot and still hear.

Earlier I hadn't noticed the acoustics here until I was moving around the room, examining my confines, and frequently sitting down to relieve the pain in my lower half. That's when my ears started picking up snippets of conversation. Earlier was two guards, chatting about the weirdness of all this 'animal mutation' going on. It got to the point I moved out of the spot so I didn't have to hear them. Now, one of the guards is still there, along with Col. Hoffman and that asshole in the business suit. I guess it's a suit since I still can't see through the glass.

The bureaucrat is talking. He mentions something about a science company, but I doubt this guy contibutes anything remotely useful to science. Way too slimy. He seems to be openly biased against me, too, from the tone of his voice, like he stepped in dogshit and can't wait to scrape it off his shoe.

He and Hoffman are having a nice little exchange. I act like I can't hear a thing. On a sidenote, my feet are getting very uncomfortable, along with some weird tick in both my wrists. I take my boots off, noticing my toes are in the middle of their own changes. I close my eyes, not wanting to see this shit. I continue to move my hands, working out the kinks. I also start flexing my scalp, a little trick my dad showed me to make it look like his ears were moving. It reminds me of my folks back in the states.

"...promised direct and unobstructed assistance in this matter. That INCLUDES immediate transport of it." Yah, still an asshole.

"That IT is a person and a member of the United States armed forces. You will give HIM due courtesy!" The colonel.

"Simply a matter of opinion. You can already see the mutation is getting worse....what is he doing?"

I stop flexing my wrists, and the flapping of my ears.

...flapping?!?

My subsequent staring into the mirror shows a nice pair of devilishly handsome stallion ears atop my head. Wait, am I actually complimenting myself...how do I even know they belong to a stallion??? So stunning is this particular change, I hardly notice the bottom of the chair getting uncomfortable, as well as the ongoing conversation in the other room.

"-has already texted me to explain why your 'airman' is not on a plane bound for the United States this minute!"

"You can tell him there is no point in shipping Berringer back since the end result is inevitable. We have medical facilities here and we don't intend to toss him out on his proverbial tail just because we have a contract with some two-bit science company."

"Colonel, Spectrum and your military might not be the best of bedfellows, but we provide necessary goods and services, as well as military advantage to the most powerful nation on earth," he replies in a belabored manner, the soft clicking indicating he is typing away Hoffman's response to the person on the other end.

The suit mutters in a lower voice, "Wouldn't want to lose top position in the world's pecking order. That would bode ill for everyone involved." He pauses. There is a ping. Then the suit reads back the reply on his phone. "I am aware of your capabilities at your base. However, Colonel, they are simply inadequate with what we are trying to do."

Naturally, the colonel's reply is much quicker, "And what IS it you are trying to do?" The other man sighs in exasperation, more likely from his thumbs getting worn out.

"This is ridiculous," the suit mutters, not bothering to type anymore. "Maybe...perhaps we can move him to a local hospital, provide a more controlled environment to explore possibilities for a cure?" His change in tone indicates he's trying a different tactic. Interrogation rooms aren't the only places one can break down another's will.

"Like I said, I know for a fact the changes are inevitable." Hoffman is silent for a moment. I can hear him start pacing. He does that when considering important things. Then he states slowly, "However, the base commander is nervous about having him here, despite the docs proving he's not contagious." I can tell my supervisor is mulling it over. Say no, please say no!

"It would be easier for his family to visit him offsite, rather than getting base clearances." That suit is really pouring on the charm.

"Alright, if you think that is the best course of action." You rat motherbucker son of a-

I slam my hands down on the table in fury. There is a pause in conversation on the other side of the mirror. Crap. I do my best not to look at the mirror. Instead, I find a particularly interesting scratch in the table and I pick at it.

"Can he hear us in here?" the suit asks. Nobody answers.

Minutes tick away. I figure if I don't do something, there goes my intelligence gathering mission. Getting up, I wander stare at my reflection. Hope this works....

"My God, he's completely lost it," remarks the suit. Naturally that is the response of someone who is witnessing a mutation and assuming the brain is also being affected. But that is why I am flicking my wrists at my mirror image, occasionally pointing my hands at the upper corners of the room, and then leaping about like an idiot. At one point I stop and press my hands against the walls, moving my feet in similar motion as though I am mountain climbing.

I can hear Hoffman chuckling to himself. Glad there is someone with a clue.

"Colonel, there is very little that is funny about this situation. That could be personality degeneration, or a psychotic break, or-"

"OR, he's merely testing his power to climb walls."

"...what? That's absurd."

"Is it? Look." For emphasis, I throw both arms down to either side and tense my neck muscles. Looking down, I frown. Damn, no Wolverine claws. "He thinks he's turning into a superhero. Lord knows we could use a few these days."

"That is the most ridiculous thing ANY sane person would conclude if they were going through this...whatever this is."

Now Hoffman's voice is gruff. His patience with the other man is wearing thin. I know I've experienced that voice in the past. "Two weeks ago you scientists would have considered 'this' a ridiculous possibility. Now you tell him he's mutating. Of course he is going to rely on cultural similarities. Two centuries ago it was witches, the devil, demon possession. Before that it was God's wrath. This century, Marvel."

Condescendingly, the suit retorts, "It is still a ridiculous leap of thought to conclude this phenomenon is a natural progression of humanity's evolution. And I'm not a scientist."

Cautiously, Hoffman replies, "What are you exactly, then? I never got the memo on that."

"You could say I am a facilitator. My superior is the true scientist-" A cell phone rings its annoying default chime. Man doesn't even have the decency to customize his ringtone. "Speak of the devil, heh, no pun intended. Do you mind? He likes these talks private, and I can only assume he wants me to observe the subject while he asks questions. HEPA laws being what they are."

There are a few seconds of silence before I hear a chair scrape on the floor, presumably the guard getting up and immediately stepping out. Hoffman lingers and responds with, "Certainly." His tone becomes slightly sarcastic. "Wouldn't want to obstruct our assistance." I can hear him almost hastening his walk to the door when the caller starts berating the suit over the phone.

Before Hoffman can make his escape, the other man calls to him, "Hold up! He wants to know when the transport is going to be ready?"

"Transport? You said he would be best served moving to a hospital. Like I said, his change is inevitable. Sending him back now is not in his best interests."

The suit's reply is more hushed, probably speaking into the phone. "He has no idea about the transfer initiative." Pause. "No sir, still hasn't scheduled a transport." Pause, then, "Yes sir, I will do that."

After a few seconds, a voice comes through the phone, much louder now that the holder of the phone has enabled the speaker setting. "Hello, Colonel Hoffman. It was my understanding that we would have full cooperation from the military as we handled these cases, to include relocation of a given subject to more accommodating facilities."

"Hello sir. And you are?"

"This is an unsecure line overseas. You will forgive my reluctance to toss around identities so openly, but we are both aware of the originator of these protocols. The Pentagon, if you've forgotten?"

Hoffman seems to like this new guy even less, given his deadpan reply. "Yes. I am aware. That subject in there is my navigator, and I'll be damned if I'm shipping him off to-"

"We are trying to cure him, Colonel! We've already missed the first day of assessment to test for variables in this particular case versus others. While you and I waste time arguing, the window of observation is closing. If he can be delivered here before his change is complete, we might be able to arrest the process, even reverse it! But we need him here, now!"

"Are you saying you actually have a cure?" Hoffman sounds hopeful. Thank God somepony is on my side in all this.

The voice calms down and continues more slowly, as if speaking to a layman. "We believe if we can get him to one of our more technically advanced facilities before he has changed completely, we can halt the changes through a barrage of medicines and blood transfusions. We know their entire body chemistry changes at a fairly consistent rate. Maintaining human internal processes of the body may actually lead to a cessation of external transformation. But we can't do anything if he finishes his change before treatment."

There is no response from my commander. As if to push him over the edge, the man on the phone adds, "Getting him here before we get to Day Four is crucial, otherwise there is nothing human left. I cannot speak more simply than that. And, you have direct orders to do so."

The reply is very resigned, "I see. I will do what I can to expedite a plane out of here." Damn. I just got sold out.

"Thankyou. If you can go do that now, I would appreciate it. In the meantime I must confer with my liaison and his observations of your navigator."

"Understood, I will leave you to it." The door opens, then closes.

Almost as resigned, I sit back down, still not comfortable with the sleazeball watching me.

"Is he gone?" The phone voice is still there. As for me, something new is there...sticking out just above my ass! No wonder the seat was becoming uncomfortable. I slowly reach back and feel through my flight suit. It is an appendage extending past where my tail bone would have been. I stop and replay that thought. Tail bone. I sigh heavily.

I have a fucking actual pony tail. Like, not on my head ponytail, but...yeah, you get the picture. I'm not even going to look at it. The ears are already doing a number on me right now. How worse can this day get?

"Yes, finally." Ah, the suit continues to talk to his master. What stupid crap are they going to say about me now?

"The mutation has to be in the air as fast as possible. You will take the company jet back as well to receive him once they touch down. Do not let an intermediary handle it."

"I get we have to transfer, but why the urgency? I thought a cure was still on the drawing boards."

This next part makes me shiver, and regret thinking about days getting worse.

"It IS, literally. But if we can see the changes in person, crack his chest open to observe the organs as they shift, we'd witness something never recorded in medical or science history. Most of the equipment here is all but useless once they are completely turned. I need to have every corner of his body probed and recorded during the final stages, with transfusions to keep him alive until we can glean everything we can. This is more than just a disease, I know that. We just need to see it in motion."

"Sounds squishy. Likelihood of survival?"

"Low. You can keep a body open only so long, and I intend to get several days out of it before hemodynamic collapse. While the occurrence is rare in a delayed sternal closure, we'll have so many probes in there that crashing is an expected result. And I do not plan on closing it up."

"So, no sightseeing for me here, then?" Okay, NOW I want to buck this guy. Both of them.

"Not this time. It's too good of an opportunity to pass up. Get that thing on a plane ASAP. And make sure it's in a kennel. I don't trust the colonel, or the mutant's state of mind to behave before we have him securely in our hands."

"Me neither. I will take care of it, soon as he gets back to me with outbound flight info."

"See that you do." >click<

Fear is an odd thing at times. It can spur you to do extraordinary things, or freeze you to your core, holding you hostage more readily than any fanatic ever can. I don't have long to sit frozen. I hear the door open and close in the observation room.

"We have a tail prepping to launch in six hours, best I can do. With theaters heating up all over the world, flight time anywhere is being rationed to high priority tasks, but seeing as how he could be cured, that DOES take priority. He will have to go out with some cargo pallets in a C-17. That suffice?" My colonel, the rock of my surreal existence, has become a lapdog.

The suit's reply is smooth, like a snake savoring its future meal in front of it. "That will do nicely. He will have a guard with him, of course?"

"I fail to see why he needs a security detail. He still hasn't shown any aggression of any sort."

"He is going through severe physical changes. You want him having a psychotic episode, kicking a hole in the fuselage of that plane?"

"I see your point. I will make arrangements for a detail to escort him. Anything else?"

"No, that concludes my business here for now. I have to ready my own plane since my boss has made this a personal matter. For your navigator's sake, you see."

Hoffman doesn't reply with any words this time. He merely makes an acknowledgement in his throat. The door opens and closes. I can hear another person walking in as that slimeball walks out. These ears are really good. The steps are the same as before. Must be that guard.

"Sergeant, I'll need you to stick with Berringer just a few more days. For safety concerns, you will be flying with him back CONUS. Sorry for the short notice. Launch is in six hours. Before you leave, I'll hand you your orders in writing. They'll include a couple weeks leave if you wish."

For the first time, I hear the guard respond. He has a good solid voice. "No problem, sir. I was going to put in for leave anyway. Getting too weird around here."

"You mean with him changing?"

"No, sir. Mankind can use a kick in the pants like that once in a while, puts things into perspective. I'm thinking about the political spectrum this side of the pond. I'm not saying I'll run from a fight. Just that..."

A solemn reply from the colonel, "Get to see your folks one more time, before all hell breaks loose."

"Something like that, sir."

I don't hear any more conversation from them. Frankly I don't want to. It's the simpler things that realign your sense of being. Family, home. Not running from a fight. I have always stood up to the bully, and sometimes I punched first, which usually got me into trouble in school because they only punished those who threw the first punch. Bullies always knew the rules better than the good guys. Easier for them to skirt the rules, or sucker you into traps.

So lost am I in my musings, I fail to notice Col. Hoffman enter the room. He sits down in the spare chair, watching me. At length, I blink and look at him. He smiles at me, warm and supportive. "I like the ears."

Scowling, I shake my head, trying to get those same ears to stop moving, "I can't seem to control them. You'd think if they were part of my body, I could control them." He sits back, grinning.

"Sometimes control is exactly the wrong thing." I give him an odd look. He eyes my ears again. "Holding on too tight, so focused on doing a thing blinds you to other things around you." I have no idea what he is talking about. He shrugs.

"In anycase, we are all trying to help you with this. There is a possibility of a cure, if that makes you feel better."

Dejectedly, I wave my hand at the mirror, "I heard. Six hours, gotta get me shipped off before all this," I wave at my body, "is complete."

Stunned, he looks at the mirror, then at me, "You heard all that?" Silently I point at my ears. He considers something, then nods, leaning forward and producing a folder onto the table. "Then this should make you feel better, if only to see what we are up against." He opens the folder and spreads out gloss pictures, with heavily blacked out medical records underneath.

It appears to be another patient, female, in a medical lab. She is sitting on an examination table in a patient's gown. The first few shots are of her with pony ears, legs covered in fur, and hooves for feet. The next few are definitely more equine. The last one is of a full grown mare, staring forlornly at the camera. This time the background is somewhere outside, with trees and clouded sky in the distance. What really strikes me is...not just the fact she has pegasus wings, but I know her!

I bark out a laugh, surprising both of us. A feeling of warmth sweeps through me, like seeing an old friend, "Hah! That's Sky Dancer, holy shit!" I look at the colonel as though to get confirmation. He does not share my joyful sentiment, staring at me sternly.

"That was the name she gave," nodding. "She said some other strange things, as though they were of a previous lifetime. I am not a believer of Hindu reincarnation, being a Christian, but I can't shake the fact that this isn't random. You know her name. How is that even possible?"

Now I shake my head in confusion. I'm pretty sure I've never seen her before, at least, her human form. And yet, a single memory springs to mind. I reply, "Eh, she and I got into a fight one time." At his dour expression, I raise my hands, "Look, I didn't know she felt so strongly about her dancing. It was at flight school, I had failed a written exam, saw her prancing by and spinning about like she always does." I stare off into the distance. "I commented that a sack of potatoes had better rhythm. Then pow, a hoof to the nose and we were off to the races."

I chuckle to myself. "In fact, that's how I ended up getting a first date with her. She said I wasn't like most stallions." I stop smiling. "Didn't last. Her career had her doing...something...like stunt flying or performing. I can't remember. I miss her mane and tail, the rainbow colors. And the seagulls on her flanks." I snort, rubbing my side. "She called them glossy starlings. They reminded me of seagulls from back home, so that earned me a shot to the ribs, and a second date. Heh." Noticing I had been rambling, I pause. I shake my head in dismay. "I have no idea how I know all that...or why I am about to ask this question, yet part of me needs to know, how is she?"

"She's gone." I stare at him while feeling VERY conflicted inside. What the hell is going on here? He clears his throat, looking down at the pictures, then back up at me. "You said her mane was rainbow colored. Are you positive?" I nod my head, eyes on the pictures. Random moments are flooding my mind, strange instances. A touch, a shared milkshake. A race. The smell of her luxuriant colored mane. The photos are black and white. I should NOT know what she looks like, and yet, I do. He continues. "She also loved to dance, but she was NEVER in any flight school. When did you see her?"

I stare at the pictures, especially the last one. You can just make out the birds on her side. They were green, metallic, in my memories. My fragmented memories from another time. Looking around, I start to realize something else. I have memories from another place. A more vibrant, more energetic place. I remember what the colonel said about control. Instead of forcing the memories to the surface, I simply let go, relaxing my thoughts.

Now I can feel what has been bothering me for the last few days. This place has no energy. Colors are bland. No magic. I don't know why I would think of magic, since it goes against all things logical and scientific. I know any advanced technology would appear as magic to somepony not understanding how it works, and yet when I think of magic, I think of a manipulation of energy that is at once explainable by science AND...is still considered magic. Like the magic imbued in the wings of a pegasus, in hooves. I suppose in a horn, if you were to address a unicorn's magical core, but I don't know much on unicorn magic.

So how do I know anything about winged horses AND unicorns?

He is still waiting for an answer. I respond, "I saw her...before me." His confusion prompts more elaboration on my part. "Before, well, all of this." I wave my hands around my body. Now I know what I should be feeling. Magic. I snort to myself as thoughts of the Force flit through my mind. I will not start snarking out a Yoda voice. I need Hoffman on my side.

However, there is an honest yearning inside me now. To feel the magic flow through you, to harmonize with your soul, THAT is Harmony. And THAT is what is missing in this world. No wonder there are so many conflicts. All these things are clicking into place and I sound like a mental idiot in front of this powerful man that holds my future in his hands.

"I'm sorry sir, I don't know how else to explain it. I know her, I have memories of her, and I'm realizing other things that would take longer than six hours to explain."

He pats my arm and starts to gather up the photos. "Not to worry son, from what I hear, you may not have to deal with this any longer. As you obviously overheard then, you'll be on a plane back to the states and getting treatment to reverse this thing."

Now I glare at him, showing my contempt for the first time since I've ever met him. "Yeah, whatever that's worth. I also heard you sending me off to be ripped open and probed so they can watch as my guts change. They've already figured on me dying on the table, several days later while delivering blood transfusions. They want to 'record and observe'."

I'm not sure, thinking back, if I could have delivered that in a nicer way. The horror on his face was something I have never seen before on him. The emotion that follows it is rage. Yeah, I have seen it from him, once. I am NOT relating that story.

"They told me...they said they could cure you." He is murmuring to himself, getting quieter. His fingers are touching the first photo, where the patient is mostly human. "They lied." His next words are practically hissed while he crinkles that photo, hands shaking in anger. "They lied...again."

I sit back, now honestly afraid of him. He notices and tries to relax. Tries. "I'm sorry, Jason. This is not what I meant for you." He glances at the mirror and motions for the guard sharply. A few seconds later, the sergeant steps into our room.

"Yes, sir?"

The colonel stands, gathering the photos into the folder. He spreads out the last photo, the one he damaged. "Nobody is to have contact with Captain Berringer. No doctors, no scientists, not even that smug shit I was talking to earlier. Only you. Keep him here. Give him whatever he asks for, if possible, but do not let him leave or let anybody else in, is that understood?" The guard nods, frowning slightly. This room was never supposed to be an interrogation room, which meant there is no microphone or sound system, so he has no idea what was said so far. Hoffman realizes that and adds, "There is reason to believe his life is in danger."

The sergeant straightens and nods, "Not surprised. Didn't much care for that man, or his boss. Too detached, mannerisms were off."

Hoffman nods in agreement, then turns to me. "Just hang tight, Jason."

I shake my head incredulously, "Sir, in six hours time, if they get me on that plane, I'm screwed. You know that."

He quirks a brow, smiling grimly, "In six hours time, that plane is going to experience engine problems. Then it is going to experience a lost tool incident. Then, we'll play it by ear." He grins, eyeing my ears. They flick reflexively.

He heads out of the room, leaving the guard and my changing self. He tries to offer up entertainment options, television, a computer, a popular smart pad. I decline them all, only asking for a salad. I was never a big vegetable guy in the past. Now, I want large leafy baby spinach salad. With cheese. And bacon.

Sleep comes to me, along with dreams of various flavors. Images of a lighthouse, rolling waves on a beach, racing a friend through the storm clouds, getting scolded by a very concerned and tired mother, strapped down on a cold metal table with human doctors reaching toward me with bone saws and spreaders. I think that last one was made up, but it still seemed real.

In the morning I have to deal with more changes. The guard, Sergeant Gaines is his name, brings me clean clothes. I put on the new shirt, though my fingers are now harder to use. I can't wear boots anymore, on account of my feet having turned into hooves sometime during the night. The snow white fur starting to progress up my legs is interesting. I also add flowers to my meal requests, much to the sergeant's worried look, but he actually comes through with a nice assortment from the base florist.

By midday, the lower half of my body is very advanced. Structurally, my legs and hips almost cannot walk in an upright manner. To top it off, my voice changes too, taking on a slightly higher pitch. I don't notice it until Colonel Hoffman points it out on one of his visits to let me know what is happening outside of the room. Seems natural to me. As for events outside, apparently things are progressing in a more harried fashion with my 'travel arrangements'.

"They want you on the plane before the day is done. Base commander is sending armed guards if I don't move you now. Fuckers got to him."

My ears swivel with undivided attention. I tongue my new teeth. Flat, like a horse, with a few sharp ones in there. Horses have been known to eat meat on occasion, I suppose. "They? I'm guessing that science company has deep ties in deeper places? Or the general wants Patient Zero out of his mane?"

The colonel paces slowly, responding, "Mmm. The general's personal feelings on the matter is small potatoes compared to the flare ups in this theater alone. It's not just that. There is someone in Washington D.C. pushing very hard for all military persons in your situation to be sent to this Spectrum lab. I've never seen anything like it. Talk about deep state bullshit."

He stops pacing and looks at me directly. "I would happily give up my commission if it meant keeping you out of harm's way, but they are moving other resources into place, resources beyond my position's control. I may not physically be able to stop them from taking you. Even if I pick up a gun...it may not make a difference." He resumes his pacing and scratches his chin, thinking. I notice my fingers starting to fuse together. I can still feel the individual bones, but, they line up weird.

I stand up unsteadily. Leaning forward onto the table seems to take some of the pressure off my hips and legs. "Sir, you don't have to kill yourself to save me. Or throw away your career, for that matter. If it means..." I swallow, not wanting to think about the near future. "If it means giving up on me. It's alright."

He stops pacing to give me an angry look, "Stow that shit, captain. I've never quit on anybody or anything, and up until now, neither have you." I shake my head in denial, only to take a step back when he gets right in my personal space. "I've read your folder, all the way back to Pensacola. I've read about every demerit, downgrade, disciplinary measure and negative comment you've gotten from there to here."

Gee, way to throw that in my face. I sit down and tilt my head, looking up at him. "And that's supposed to make me feel better about this?" I hold up my hands, the middle three fingers already starting to become one. He ignores it, staring into my eyes.

"No, but this next part is. You've never quit. They told you that you were not a Type A personality. You shrugged it off." I shrug. He smirks and continues, "They handed you a bomber package, acknowledged their mistake and took it away, giving you heavies, and you told them to bring it. They ignored your request for tankers at the end of your San Antonio training when you got your nav wings and they put you in AWACS, a deadend position for any navigator. And as a nice kick in the face to start off your Air Force career, from the moment they started training you, they kept telling you they were phasing out the role of navigators without any other flying opportunities that would be available to you later on. You said-"

"-bring it," I reply.

Hoffman straightens, crossing his arms. "I believe the term was 'bring it, you assholes.' One of the more colorful demerits in your jacket."

I wrinkle my brow and ask, "They actually put all that crap in there?" He nods, waiting.

Looking back over my lackluster and painful career trying to cut it in the Air Force, I realize that despite never reaching the top of my classes or scoring high enough to have any kind of control over where I went, I never did quit. At any time. Not getting a pilot slot right out of college was the hardest blow I had taken, with lesser ones since. After that, it had been a struggle, not the least of which was getting any kind of mentorship from the more influential of the officer cadre, which is a guaranteed shoe-in for advancement. And here was this man, moving heaven and earth to protect me. Seeing it from his perspective, it would be an insult to give up.

"Alright." I hold my head up and take a deep breath. "Then we go all the way...whichever that way is. The plan?"

He starts off by handing the sergeant a sealed envelope. "Those are your orders, officially. What we discussed earlier, the escort, approved leave. Unofficially, you know what to do, as discussed. Time table has simply moved up." The guard nods and steps out of the room. Hoffman turns to me. "When he returns shortly, you both will head over to the flightline and board the C-17. I couldn't delay it any longer. The base commander was forced to bring in a special maintenance crew to verify it was geen for launch. Before wheels up, I'll give you some options."

Before I can go back over the 'if I get on the plane I'm screwed' part, he leaves. I don't have time to contemplate because only after a few minutes, Sgt. Gaines is back and leading me to an awaiting pickup truck outside. I am really starting to appreciate, and miss, things I used to take for granted, like walking upright.

I get that I'm turning into some version of a horse and eventually I will be on all fours, but this halfway shit is really annoying. It's like when I used to wear small rubber bands to straighten my top and bottom molars so they ground together properly. The start and finish part is not so bad. The halfway point, pain. Gaines helps me from the building to the vehicle. It's night out, I note gloomily. Bad things happen at night.

The ride is far shorter than I want it to be. Passing through multiple checkpoints, the C-17 starts to become the one object taking up my view as I stare out the window. It looms like a fortress the closer we get, muted gray under glaring floodlights that were hastily erected around it, though now they are being dismantled since the maintainers are done with inspections.

Hoffman is at the top of the cargo ramp, waiting in the plane's hold. We get out of the pickup and proceed to the colossal jet on hoof, me leaning heavily on the sergeant. Hm, I thought 'hoof.' I am starting to pick up on the fact my brain is changing. The voice alteration I can attribute to my physiology in flux, voice box getting smaller, I suppose. The food cravings, I think are more a combination of stomach needs and maybe some brain stuff, which leads me to my word use, swapping some out with others.

Sigh. If I think too much, I will be too slow when I miss whatever opportunity my commander is to provide for my daring escape. Have to let go of control, like he suggested. That will get me from point A to point B a lot quicker. I have a strange feeling I will need that speed soon, so I try to clear my head.

All my survival thinking stops short when we crest the top of the ramp and I see a kennel loaded up on a pallet. In alarm I turn to Hoffman, but he raises a hand. "Not yet, son. If everything goes the way it should, you'll never have to touch it."

Sgt. Gaines directs me to a seat along the fuselage of the plane, just aft of the kennel. He sits opposite of me on the other side of the cargo hold.

Noticing my hands seem too inadequate to manipulate the belt buckle, Hoffman kneels and helps strap me in.

"Remember your SERE training," he says softly. "Survive, evade, resist, escape." He cinches the belt tight for emphasis.

"How am I supposed to escape this?!" I hold up both hands, now nearly fused completely. Yah I know, I used the hands thing earlier, but this part is really bothering me. I used to love playing piano....

He pushes both arms down, "You don't. You embrace it. Use it." I give him a dejected look. He reaches behind me, gently prodding my back. Then he tugs on what feels like my shoulder blades, if you had shoulder blades stuck to your shoulder blades. "You are growing wings already, good. I figured the dreams would be a giveaway, but I was hoping against...anyway, this is a good sign. Don't forget your dreams, you can fly in them. Remember?"

He is way more confident than I am. "Sir, how do you know all this stuff? Were you with Sky Dancer during her change? Did...did you help her, too?"

That strikes a chord with him. Anger passes over his face, followed by grim determination. "Not exactly. She-" He notices the Spectrum lackey get out of a jeep and approach the plane. He looks back to me and says quickly, "Just be ready when it's time."

"When it's time? We'll be up in the air soon. If I don't change then...and how am I supposed to know if these wings will even work?! And what time will that be?!?"

"You'll just know."

"I'll just know.....great." Then I grow cold inside. I search his eyes. No, can't be. "Sir, are...are you expecting me to escape...in the air!?!" I squeak out that last bit.

He notices the man is almost to them, so he says quickly, "Look, they are sure you will stay humanoid during this trip." He pauses, glancing at the suited man at the bottom of the ramp. The colonel lowers his voice and says, "Their timing is off by several hours because they think you were born stateside."

Ignoring my questioning look, he continues. "I checked the PLACE you were born, not just the date. You were born in Germany. That's seven hours difference from the states. When you change, it will be mid flight, near the east coast. That is your best chance to make your move. Your wings will be in fully." He puts a hand on top of my head. "I was hoping to be there, help you get through this. Unfortunately, you'll have to learn to leave the nest without me. Sorry for the pun."

"Best chance? Wait...how do you even know what's going to happen to me? Those medical records under the photos, they were mostly blacked out-" I stop short, noticing something in his eyes, other than anger. I swallow and ask, "You...you knew her, personally. Didn't you?"

Before Hoffman can answer, the man finally tromps up the ramp. And he's not in a good mood. "What the hell is this, colonel!? He is supposed to be secured in that kennel." Before Hoffman can respond, the loadmaster makes his way toward us, squeezing past the pallets of cargo. "Sir, we're just about ready to go."

The colonel shakes his head and flicks his eyes at the cargo door hinges, "Not quite. I noticed those hydraulics were a little jerky when you opened her hold. Might want to run through a sequence before buttoning up, just to show everyone present that things work correctly." He turns his head back to me and says, "Make sure you are slow and visible when you use the panel switches, or you will stress the hydraulics." He tilts his head at the panel, just forward of the jump seats where I am sitting.

The airman eyes both of us, then the panel, then nods slowly. "Yes sir. Crew safety is paramount." He stands next to the panel and waits.

"That's garbage! There's nothing wrong with the doors! You are just delaying the takeoff-" The man splutters before Hoffman wheels around on him.

"Do you want to be responsible for a midair catastrophe, loss of life AND go to prison for interfering with aircraft safety measures!?" He pokes the man several times in the chest, who is now backing down the ramp. "Not to mention, your 'boss' gets charged with a three-hundred million dollar bill!"

"But..the plane is only worth a little over two-hundred-"

"Add the payload, genius!"

Instead of relenting, though, the suit steps around the colonel and points to me, "He still needs to be secured. Crew safety, remember?" Before the colonel can respond, the man pulls out a pair of metal cuffs with a specialized lock, and a piece of paper. "Written orders. Secure the patient until delivery to our lab. Any deviation will be met with severe consequences." He shoves the paper into the colonel's chest and approaches me. Sgt. Gaines stands up, readying his rifle, which he has quietly removed from its carrybag. Hoffman holds up one hand to stay the sergeant as he reads the paper.

"More bullshit," mutters the colonel.

Smiling in an evil way, the company man latches one cuff onto the seat railing and closes the other cuff around my wrist, tightly. I hiss as it binds against my skin. As the man stands, the colonel says, "What happened to care and comfort for the patient? Or is he to be treated like a laboratory experiment, probed and prodded until his corpse is no longer useful?"

The man turns white, then crosses his arms. "That's not what is going to happen to him." His incensed demeanor is almost believable. IF he hadn't blabbed on the other side of that mirror the day prior.

"Prove it. His cuffs are too tight and will cut off circulation to his hands. It's a long flight. A finger's width isn't too much to ask, is it? Wouldn't want to damage the goods before arrival..."

The man narrows his eyes. Hoffman glances at his own watch and raises an eyebrow. Exhaling in frustration, the man replies, "Have it your way, a smidge of room." He takes out a special key and loosens the cuff just enough so my wrist isn't constricted, yet there is no way I can get them past the widening part of my hands.

The man storms down the ramp, yelling over the engines spooling up, "Wheels up after cycling the doors, colonel! Or it's a court martial!" He makes his way to the jeep, pointing at a small business jet nearby for the benefit of the driver.

Hoffman returns his gaze to me and says quickly, "She is a family member. I was in the loop the whole change, but unable to get to her in time. Her escape a few days ago prompted some of these...protocols you are experiencing." I see the flames of anger in him again, his face turning red. He growls, "This is not some virus or plague. That much is known, but I'm limited on what I can do about it. If you see her," he is able to get out before his emotions make him pause.

The suited man yells from his jeep, "Alright Colonel, enough with the goodbyes!" He is already waving over a separate unit of SF's, armed with more rifles. Yay.

The colonel returns a plastic smile to him and waves. Starting down the ramp, he quickly yells back to me, "If you see her, let her know her family loves her! Observe everything, take every advantage!"

The loadmaster uses that opportunity to speak up, "Here comes the fun part sir."

I turn my head to the aircrew, clenching my jaw, "So far I'm looking at getting dissected. You've got something more fun than that?"

"Yes. HALO jumping, apparently." Despite the sick feeling inside, I try to watch what he does. Standing next to the panel, he hits the red-guarded switch on the far left for electrical power. Then he hits the second and fourth switch to apply hydraulics, then the third switch in between them for the transfer pump.

Barely glancing at me from the corner of his eye, he holds the 'DOOR/RAMP' switch down, just to the right of the guarded backup switch. The upper door lowers while the lower ramp comes up. Once they shut, he merely pushes the switch up where it is marked 'OPEN' and the doors swing back to their open positions. I nod, acknowledging what I saw.

There is not much else to do but wait until the doors close for takeoff configuration. The loadmaster finishes up preflight and seals the plane. The roll down the runway and rotation are uneventful. Tugging one last time on the cuffs tells me I'm in for a very uncomfortable flight while sitting up. Thankfully, the loadmaster gave me a headset to use while running his preflight checks. It is now precariously balanced high on my head to accommodate my ears.

Fumbling with the mic switch while trying to get the boom near my slightly elongated muzzle, I say, "Sergeant, not to sound defeatist here, but do you have a hacksaw?" I give him my best smile. I swear someone is thinking 'look a gift horse in the mouth' somewhere, and I want to buck them. I might also be going insane at this point, which makes these cuffs perfectly valid.

He opens one eye, his body slouched in a standard sleep-in-a-crappy-seat position. He replies, "Colonel texted me right before we took off. Won't need it. Also texted me to tell you to take a nap. Your window of opportunity will be in several hours." He closes his eye as if to go back to sleep.

I shake my head and lean back, trying to get comfortable. I must be more stressed out than I think, because I find myself drifting in a matter of minutes.

I don't know if I have a fever, or if it's my brain continuing to change, but I know I am sleeping. Just no dreams. There is sound, and vibration, and a low level of light coming through my eyelids. I also feel more comfortable than I have a right to be, given this metal seat and-

CLANG.

I jump awake, ears swiveling, eyes wide and scanning. The lighting in the hold is set low, for night time flying. We aren't banking anymore so we are set on the final course, westbound at twenty-nine thousand feet. Hm, either the payload is not that heavy or she's burned off enough fuel to make it up that high.

I stop myself.

How do I know what the exact altitude is!?

I adjust the headset with my front hooves so I can speak to the sergeant to find out how much time we have left.

I notice I'm not cuffed anymore. I look down and see the cuff, one end still anchored to the seat. The other end, still a closed oval. Empty. I inspect my hand. No, it's not a hand anymore. It's a hoof. Both my arms are now slender equine forelegs ending in hooves. The circlet of metal must have slipped off the end of my leg when I lost my hands.

I bend my neck around to inspect the rest of me. Similar to the photo of Sky Dancer. I notice some more...stuff. Well, maybe not so similar. Something very close moves and I twist around halfway to see what it is. In a second I completely corkscrew bodily off the seat and splat onto the metal deck of the hold. Mmm, pain. In different places. Not trusting my legs now since they've all just betrayed me, I look around and spot the sergeant across the way, eyes open, hand out to the side on his rifle. Yet he's not making any other moves.

I tap around with my left leg until I find my headset again and push it to the side of my head, activating the mic. "After all this shit is done, please don't mention that last part. I have enough bad rumors to my name as it is."

He smiles and lets go of his rifle, keying up his own mic, "Wouldn't think of it, captain. We all hit bottom in our lives now and again. Question is, do you get up?"

To answer his question, I put all four legs under me and press up. The higher I hold my body, the more I feel like I'm going to topple over. I note how my legs are, acknowledging my stance looks nothing like how a typical horse would stand, so I pick up onc hoof at a time and create the most stable trapezoid pyramid I can. It works.

Now I look like an Imperial AT-AT about to deploy stormtroopers in the field. Small victories. Next I test my walking ability.

Having already spread out my legs fore and aft a bit too much, trying to walk forward has me doing some weird dragging with my back legs, which transitions into what some would call Upward-Facing Dog. I hate myself for even knowing that. I lower myself, drag in all my legs, god I have four legs now, and push up again, this time planting my hooves a little more accurately underneath me. I sway a little when the plane hits turbulence.

The sergeant makes like he's about to unbuckle and get up, but I hold a wing out. Surprising both of us with my ability to use my wing in body language, I spread out the other one, which helps me learn to walk over the next several minutes.

When I feel I'm about to lose my balance, even with wings out like a balancing pole, a quick flex of the wings lightens me just enough to regain my footing. I don't know if it is instinct or something else, but wings seem second nature to me. Hooves, no nature.

Still, I eventually work it out and I'm finally able to trot up and down the hold. On one of my laps, I see the loadmaster is still napping, though he has an oxygen mask velcroed to his hand. Guess he knows what's coming. I make my way back to the other human. We hold each other's gaze for a few seconds before he glances at the panel of switches behind me. I refuse to move.

"Sergeant, if I leave now, you'll get punished for dereliction of duty. If I escape after we land, they will at least see you held me as long as you could."

He shakes his head. "They will have their own guards, probably with some kill order should you get out of hand. This is the colonel's plan. Always has been."

"Then he'll get in trouble!" I plead back to him. "That Spectrum asshole said he had command level authority, out of the Pentagon."

The man shrugs. "Colonel said he was going to recommend a formal reprimand for my record, sleeping on a plane or something, and then he'll tell my CO to piss on that record. You're covered. All you have to do is fly, little bird."

Something jolts my memory. I stand there, mouth hanging low. He asks, "What?"

I shake my head, "Nothing. For a second I thought-"

"If you don't move your ass I'll make you wish your mother was here to put a boot in that ass! And yes, that's a mother wears combat boots joke, now MOVE IT, SIR!" He surges forward to stand up, rifle in hand now.

It's like two blows to my head. I clear my mind, remembering time is of the essence. I spin around, scramble to the panel and stand up on my rear hooves. I still can't believe I have rear hooves. Third panel down, second red safeguarded switch counting from the left, the first silver switch to it's right. "Do you remember the sequence?" he asks.

"Yes," I reply over my shoulder.

"Do it!" With alacrity I never knew I had, I go through the switches. Immediately the upper door rises while the bottom ramp starts lowering. The cabin pressure is dumped, along with the thick oxygenated air-

Oh shit! I need a mask! I look around, vaguely noting the sergeant has already put on his. There are no masks near me, so I move around the kennel and the large bundles tied to it. A quick glance up and down either side of the hold reveals no masks at all. I barely hear a muffled yell from the sergeant. "What the hell are you doing!?!"

Whipping my head around in panic, I yell back at him, "I need a mask, I can't breath!" We stare at each other.

I chew the inside of my cheek and tentatively take a deep breath. Then I let it out.

"Oh."

He has both hands wrapped around the webbing of the cargo loaded on the pallet just fore of the kennel, knuckles white. I glance out the gaping hole, noting we are VERY very high. Did I mention twenty-nine thousand feet? I look back at him and say, "This is one of those other moments I'd like to not have mentioned. Ever."

He jabs one hand at the opening.

Each step I take gives me more confidence in my footing, like even if the plane did bank sharply, I would stick to the deck, strange as that sounds even saying it out loud. And yet, each step instills another shot of fear in me, until I am at the top of the ramp. Standing there, it is so surreal. It slopes into nothingness, and yet, I see the freedom of the sky. Freedom, which will last until I slam into the ocean at terminal velocity.

I had thought, for some reason, that these changes would supply me with knowledge of how this new body worked. I mean, come on, since I was a little boy I have been dreaming of flight all my life. Thinking back to the ten minute session of scrabbling around on the floor of the plane before I got my legs figured out, it dawns on me...I don't know how to fly!

Sure I can wave my wings around, but how are these little things supposed to lift a proportionally larger body?! I turn around, looking for where they store parachutes. Nothing. No troops jumping this morning. Well...maybe-

The sergeant, wearing his oxygen mask, waves his arms to mimic flying. I shake my head and yell, "I can't remember how!" It's true. All those dreams, they were of me using my HUMAN arms. Somehow my body was light enough that it just happened. Here, my 'arms' were holding up my front half, and there were appendages I have NEVER felt sticking out of my back!

Looking out into the void again, the wind strips away moisture that is building up in my eyes. Moisture brought on by fear, frustration, and defeat. Limited options now, Colonel, I think bitterly. Fall to my death, or land to my death later.

I hear a short yell behind me, faint over the roar of the wind.

The man that has been by my side as much as Hoffman has back at base is now standing away from the cargo, rifle slung on his back. He is unsecured, no safety straps attached to him. If the plane were to hit turbulence or angle up, he could tumble out.

Yet there he is, standing despite the danger, arms down at his sides at attention. He raises his right arm and performs a perfect salute. Movement from the front of the hold shows the load master is on his feet too, saluting.

The fear fades, like a dark fog dissipating before the burning honor of a rising sun. I square up to him and render a similarly perfect wing salute, one that would do the Royal Guard back home justice. My eyes go wide. I'm out on an open ramp in blustery winds waving a wing full of feathers.

I only get a split second to see the sergeant's eyes widen before I'm sucked out the back of that nice safe plane.

In the night sky, moon shining bright, I see the plane getting smaller and smaller as I plummet, belly side up. Another thing goes out the back of the plane too. It is the kennel, with the bundles strapped on there that were not there when we first took off. Why did they dump that out?

First things first, stabilize my descent. I twist around and spread out my legs like a skydiver. Kind of awkward as a small horse since my legs are not nearly as bendy to the sides as a human's would be, yet they are a little bendier than a horse, at least I think so. Never seen pictures of this position before. Never seen a horse doing this before, either. Panic starts to set in. I've seen a whale doing this before. Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy.

No. I stop that thinking. Okay, next, wings. I spread out the wings and immediately catch all kinds of air, like I've opened up a parachute, or a glider.

Glider. I grin and try tilting left, then right. YES! Even up here in darkness, I can sense where I am going and now I'm dropping so much slower. A woosh nearly takes my tail off as the kennel shoots by. I look down and smirk. You don't got no wings, bitch! I laugh to myself as I watch it go all the way down, and down, and down. I start to lose my mirth and slowly circle, watching it.

Why would he have kicked that thing out of the plane? Surely...yes don't call me surely Airplane meme get it out of your system, surely he would get in trouble for that. Unless....

I look away from the falling kennel and stare out in every direction. Water. No, ocean. Dammit. The bundles! Survival supplies! Fuck fuck fuck.

I race down, not knowing how I'm doing it (let go of control, ty Hoffman), but I'm speeding up to try and catch it. A delayed chute opens, slowing it enough so it won't slam into the water too hard.

It still takes me several minutes to speed down toward it. The opening rafts and chute are bright yellow and orange, making it easier to spot in the moving waves. Coming in on top of it, I spread out my wings again, flapping like a mad loon. I just miss slamming into the metal cage as I plunge into the freezing water.

Thrusting my wings downward, I push myself up, breaching the surface and spitting out salted liquid. Wheeling about in the darkness, I spot yellow rafts, one on either side of the cage. They must have had water-sensing squibs ready to blow once they hit the surface. I doggy-paddle...meh pony-paddle my way over, grab onto the side of the nearest raft and scramble up and over, slumping into the middle of the raft while trying to catch my breath.

The rolling waves are quiet, except for the occasional sizzling froth of the water. The experience is calming to me, as if remembering a long lost dream on the edge of my memory. I don't know how long I stay that way. After a time, I clamber up and assess the situation.

There is a survival pack tied to each raft via paracord lanyard, as well as some smaller packages in the kennel. I spend the next several minutes pulling the nearest onto my raft, then I scramble up and over the cage to drag the other kit in. Then I get back on top of the kennel, work the latches, open the door, and flip myself inside. It is halfway into the water, reminiscent of a certain Jaws film I'd just as soon not think about right now.

Grabbing the first floating package with my wings, I hoof at the wax paper until I am able to work it open. The cardboard box is even easier. Inside is a bunch of pork jerky, marinated in soy sauce, salted, peppered, and then dried out to endure this hellish trip. A note in a ziplock bag reads:

Dear Jason,

Hopefully these items taste better than those MRE's in the survival kits. Drink the water first, like you were taught in SERE. Get some food in you. No matter how you feel, you are going to need that energy. Next I have listed a few things that have been reported regarding pegasus capabilities. Granted, this information is classified, but these days, nobody gets prosecuted for leaking anymore. In any event, when you are done reading this letter, destroy it. Chances are, I'll be one of the few assholes that does get sent to Leavenworth if they find out.

I continue reading and my hopes start to rise when I see the rest of the stuff winged horses can do. Or at least, those spotted by intel sources. When I'm sure I can remember it all, I shred it up using my hooves and teeth and throw the pieces out between the bars of the cage. Sitting in the kennel, the rafts lashed to either side just barely keeping it afloat, a thought crosses my mind. If this was the extent of Hoffman's plan, it sucks balls.

Because I ended up touching this fucking kennel anyway.

***

"That's it, nothing else?! You sat on a steel cage like a king in the middle of the fucking ocean and floated home?!?" Joey stared at his nephew in dismay.

"No, I did other stuff." He didn't meet his uncle's eyes, though. "I used my wings to push my way east. Food was no problem, since pegasi eat fish when ocean traveling, in addition to the supplies they gave me. It was boring, really. Was also slow going, trying to move that flotilla with just these things." I rustled my wings.

"There was a moment when some sharks thought the rafts were seals and attacked them, sank the U.S.S. Fukyu Spectrum. That's when I discovered I could fly! After that..." Civil relished in the feeling, recalling that moment of discovery. "Uncle Joey, I can't tell you how it felt rediscovering flight, but it was good! Then I made my way to the east coast, stayed hidden most of the time since I figured I was being hunted. It got to be rather pleasant, if a bit lonely. Fed on fish, sometimes scraps from garbage bins, lots of flowers and plants from all over. They really are good, by the way. Not the garbage, but, nevermind."

He paused, staring off into the distance. Continuing quietly, "I never came across another pony. Then Dash sent out that rainboom and I knew the Elements were fighting for Equestria. That was the call to arms, so to speak. Not too long after, one of our princesses visited me in a dream, told me to head to a small town in Iowa. Went through a magical portal, fought chaos spawn, and won back our homeland. A lot of others helped, I'm not going to glory hound this story."

The glossover of the worst weeks of his life, he chased down with another full glass of wine. He wasn't sure how many glasses he'd gone through. Finally, he had enough liquid courage to look Joey in the eye. "Spent two and a half years helping to rebuild our home...and...then...I'm here on Earth." He waved his hoof around as if to signify that Joey knew all the rest.

His uncle eyed him for a minute.

"And he says 'it was boring'," Joey quipped, rolling his neck to work out some kinks. He'd been captivated by the adventure. Granted there were movies with better plots, but there was something special about war stories. The reality of them, perhaps, despite reality being turned on its head by an invasion of cute ponies. He eventually smirked and said, "I'm going to assume you'll eventually tell your mother what you left out, which means I'll hear it later on." He drained the last of his wine, smacking his lips. Then he grinned at his nephew, waiting.

A slight chill passed through Civil. Joey knew bullshit when he heard it, and Civil's large eyes, mirrors to his soul, had been giving him away since he started this story. They both knew things were left unsaid, things he could not allow another soul to know, like going feral before Luna visited him in a dream to help guide him back. The part where he confessed the horrible thing he had done, and where she helped center his soul after...after he'd....

Civil spotted an empty crate nearby which must have held the imported grapes. A heart with flames was on the label. Some familiar feeling regarding that picture tickled his memories. The less darker memories.

Joey sat back, nodding. "I knew it, there it is. I've been bullshitting people for years." Civil snorted to himself, having just thought that. "Easy enough to know when you are leaving out the juicy bits. But I can see it bothers you, so I won't press. Anyway, you're back, right? Back on Earth to stay?" And just like that, jovial Uncle Joey let him off the hook.

He gave Joey an embarrassed look. "Right."

"Where is what?! What are you not telling him!?!" came a female voice.

To the shock of both uncle and nephew, Renee wheeled around the stairwell and stormed up to them. She looked as though she was about to have kittens. "What happened to you after you got to land?" She demanded, crossing her arms.

The stony look that took over Civil's face was a sure indicator that this conversation was going nowhere good. Joey sat back and reached around blindly behind him for another bottle, riveted as he was to the showdown between his niece and nephew, like watching a train wreck in slow motion. He needed more refreshments.

A flutter of green caught Civil's attention. "Is that five hundred dollars?!" Civil jabbed accusingly towards Renee's hand. She looked down, remembering she had a wad of bills in her fist. "The money that is 'supposed' to scare off the kids from harassing me?"

She uncrossed her arms and put them behind her back, frowning. "Hey, he might be the bullshitter in the family, but you don't get to change subjects on the subject changer of the family!"

Civil glowered at her, slipping off his seat to stand on all fours. He slowly moved around her, though she kept her front to him. "That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard, Renee!"

"I dunno," she mumbled back. "I'd bet you've heard stupider." The money shifted from one hand to the other and she moved it back to her front when he slipped around behind her. Sighing at the immaturity of it all, he slowly stepped back near his seat and stopped facing away from her.

He twisted his own neck a few times, trying to destress himself, as well as pausing to reign in his anger (that's not a pun dammit!) before he really said something scathing. She mistakenly took it as an invitation to continue. "So what was Uncle Joey talking about, with the 'there it is' part?"

Now he was working his jaw, at a loss for words. Joey saw his face and gladly chimed in with, "That depends. When did you start eavesdropping?"

She gave him a thoughtfully offended look, the kind you knew was purely theatrical. "I wasn't eavesdropping on you. I didn't see Civil upstairs and I came looking for him. That's when...you know." She waved at them.

Joey smirked, asking, "And the part you did start hearing was, when?"

"The 'look at you, you're beautiful' part-"

Civil spun around, clicking his teeth in frustration to cut her off. "That's the whole damn thing! And that's called eavesdropping, idiot!" He paused, looking down at her hand since she hadn't bothered to put it behind her again. "Whose money is that, anyway?" Her eyes followed his gaze down. Fuck, she thought. She was still holding several bills out in the open.

"It's money. Yours now, I guess..."

"You guess? I bet it's Venessa's, right!?" the pegasus said accusingly.

Joey glanced up in thought, then made a small 'o' with his mouth. "Huh, that's why she needed the cash." He raised his hands in an innocent shrug at Civil's quick glare.

Renee got angry and lit into her brother. "You jackass! I was worried that someone pulled you away when I wasn't looking. I searched the whole damn house to find you! And THEN Vanessa practically cornered me and shoved THIS," while holding the money out in front of her, "into my hand and begged me to set up some personal speaking time with you! In fact, you want it? Here!" She thrust her hand right to his muzzle, and waited, waving it back and forth like a jerky treat to a dog as it tickled his nose.

He bared his teeth and grabbed at the money. In his anger, he miscalculated and caught a bit of her hand, too. Quickly retracting her hurt appendage, she rubbed the meaty part of her palm.

"OW! You fucker!"

"Serves you right, selfish woman," he mumbled around the cash. Yes, he did feel a twinge of regret, but his sourness left no room for apologies at the moment. Stomping over to Joey, he spit the bills out onto the table. "Here, buy Vanessa something decent. I'm going to go settle this crap with the cousins right now." Giving his sister one last glare, he growled, "Then I'm talking to Vanessa." He went out the back door.

Hurt and irritated by what he'd said, she made to follow him, but Joey reached out and gently grabbed her arm. "Hold up, Renee. This is one of those sibling things that should cool off without further intervention." She thought about pulling away from him, but eventually decided against it. Sitting down in Civil's seat, she examined her hand. Joey peered at it. "Anything more will just be kerosene on the fire right now. How bad?"

Shrugging, she gingerly felt the surface. "Didn't break the skin." After a moment of inspection, she muttered, "I can't believe that little shit bit me." Renee continued to rub her hand, though she wasn't very concerned about any possible damage to her flesh. She'd done worse to herself running around as a kid, holding a glass mug with some grasshopper drink inside, while...Jason, of all people, was chasing her. And had pushed her down, onto said glass.

They were children, and she wasn't sharing like she was told to, and, well, a hospital visit and some stitches later had solved that dicey little problem. It had been nearly fourteen years later when he finally came around and apologized to her for that. The kicker was, everybody, including Renee, had thought she had tripped while he was the only one who knew the truth. He'd held it in for a very long time, at least until he spoke to her that one Christmas. Of course since it was an event back in their childhood, it was easier for her to forgive him. And yet, he'd never forgiven himself enough to let go of that memory.

This wasn't nearly so horrible an outcome, and yet, in some ways it hurt more.

Joey sat back and poured another glass for himself. Mulling the wine around, he looked up from his glass. "I don't think he meant to do that. Looked like he was just trying to get the money, what with his limitations in grabbing things." He wiggled his fingers for emphasis.

She scoffed at him and reached over to get the bottle and pour herself a drink in Civil's glass. "I wasn't even trying to scam any money from anyone. He acts like I'm some selfish money grubber. Yes I have had some silly schemes before, but who doesn't want to make cash now and then? I swear, this time it was strictly to scare everyone away from bothering him." She shook her head and wiped one eye. "I was looking out for him, for fuck's sake." She noticed the straw in the glass, took it out and flicked it away angrily.

"Yeesh, language, Renee." After receiving her apology, he patted her hand. "Don't worry about it. I had to live with two brothers and a sister growing up. You want to talk about sibling rivalry? My family wrote the book on it." Glancing out the window, he could see Civil talking to the cousins that were outside playing. He eyed Renee and grinned.

"Stupid question. Did you plan it so his good conscience would kick in and he'd interact with them on his own? Sans the bite, of course."

Renee gave him a wistful smile. "I'll neither confirm nor deny anything regarding pony manipulation."

Joey closed his eyes, shaking his head. "God he's gullible." Opening them, he continued, "And yer evil. Remind me not to get on your bad side, missy."

She lightened up a little, watching her brother with a sad look. "Yes, a bit. To both." Her uncle snorted. She looked back at him and got up. "Sorry about Vanessa. I'll go warn her about not getting that one-on-one time with him."

He held up a hand, "Eh, hold off on that. He said he'd go speak to her, right? I'll bet he's gonna do it for free. He might have a temper, but he's got a good heart."

She rolled her eyes at him.

"It's true!" Joey exclaimed. He hummed to himself for a moment. Then he took a big breath, "In any case, he needs to learn to interact with family as a pony now." He drained his glass and contemplated something. "Sorry I got you in trouble with him, the whole Vanessa thing. She said it was a matter of life and death."

Renee shook her head incredulously, "That's NOT what I told them," but Joey waved it off.

"Mm, figured there was a loss in translation. I did lend her the money, though. My bad on getting you bit." Renee shrugged as if it were nothing. He chuckled, thinking. "Wouldn't it be wild if Vanessa turned into a pony after all this?"

That had Renee laughing nervously. "Oh come on, Uncle Joey! Not every person turning twenty-five is going to be a pony. Besides...we already did the math." That last part she said in a somber tone.

"Still. Oh that reminds me. Your birthday AND Christmas are just around the corner." He watched her warily, concern on his face. "Aren't you turning twenty-five in two weeks?" He wasn't sure he should be happy or concerned. With Civil, it was a done deal. He knew Vanessa would welcome it. With Renee...?

She shrugged at the question, "Yeah, so what. Like I said, statistics are against me changing. My twenty-fifth will come and go, joy." She grinned while eyeing her brother now. He was flying in the air and flipping head over hooves to hit a volleyball back over the net to his cousins. It was his one versus their six and they were still diving just to keep up with his returns. "I'm more interested in him getting the stick out of his ass." With a quick glance to her uncle, she mumbled, "Sorry."

"Naw, he's a pony thingy. Ass is appropriate, and funny." He smiled, watching them outside. His eyes slid back over to her. "Renee, you aren't, uh, hoping to become...one, are you?" She acted like she hadn't heard him and continued watching her brother's antics.

The silence stretched out for quite a while, long enough to see Civil outside actually starting to enjoy himself, until she saw Vanessa approach the game. He caught the ball mid air and handed it off to a young girl, Angela, before landing next to Joey's daughter. The two had a very somber looking discussion, ending with him shrugging and Vanessa grabbing Civil in a very strong and pegasus-protested hug. He did take the scratching on his head better when his cousin offered it. Then they started strolling back to the house and the stairs outside that led up to the patio. Renee blinked and turned back to Joey, "whuh?"

He quirked a brow at her and replied, "Yeah, you heard me. You want to be one?"

The rolling of her eyes wasn't enough to shake her uncle off the trail, so she gave in. "Sort of." His look of shock prompted her to answer more directly. "Well, yes. I mean, I don't want to think about what all I'd lose, but, aside from being able to do magic, or talk to animals or fly...it'd-" The clopping up the stairs outside distracted her slightly. Once they made it inside and she could hear the progression across the ceiling above them, she continued, "-it'd help him."

Now Joey was impressed. He sat up and gathered the used glasses together, more as a cover to his opinion. "Um, you'd turn into a different species, an alien species, for your brother? For God's sakes, why??"

Why indeed? She had spent a lot of time contemplating Jason's, well, Civil's situation, all that he must have gone through to get to this point. Knowing what he was like as a human by growing up with him, and now with the stigma of sharing traits with domesticated livestock in this world, she could see how lonely he was. Getting kicked out of your homeworld was just salt on the wound. All of it hadn't really hit her until she had observed him during their plane flight, his willingness to go out on a limb, or a wing for that matter, to help that little girl.

He had spent that time, time meant flying near his family on their side of the plane, to instead protect that child from her fears. Civil was always willing to give, and he never asked anything in return. And yet she knew, he silently asked. He needed. Like any creature capable of expressing emotions, he needed to relate to someone and be appreciated for what he was, as much as WHO he was. He needed such a basic thing that humans couldn't give. Sameness.

Zoology classes, if nothing else, pointed out like species held to their own. Intelligent species moreso. As a pony, she could provide that companionship and familiarity. Buy you know...as a sister, of course. We're not getting freaky up in here, check the damn story tags.

"He's lonely," she repeated her thoughts vocally. Looking her uncle in the eye, she said, "According to the TV show, ponies are herd creatures, just like horses here. Our parents and I can be there for him, but he'll still feel alone, different. Having another pony around would help, and having grown up with him, it would be ideal, if..." She didn't finish what she wanted to say. She felt that saying it out loud was like volunteering, even though she knew deep down this whole species changing business was outside her control.

Slowly, Joey nodded. He stood up, holding the empty glasses and smiled to his niece, "He has no idea how lucky he is. You are the best sister he could have right now, or ever."

She smiled sardonically, waving her hand, "Yep, bestest sister."

He grinned, "Strokin that ego?"

She replied, laughing, "Damn straight!"

***

Civil, being that ever giving person that he was, found himself upstairs in a very frilly girl's bedroom. A teenager's bedroom. Naturally, he was uncomfortable. All the walls had posters of the typical crushes, pop bands, Twilight actors, idol singers....

...and Hello Kitty, and My Little Pony. Lots, of both. Surprisingly, the first thing she showed him wasn't pony related. It was a large framed felt textured art piece of Hello Kitty waving. There was a signature scrawled in small kanji down the raised arm.

"Yuko Shimizu, the creator, signed that," Vanessa provided for him.

Civil nodded, taking in the artwork with practiced politeness. He glanced around, noting all the other Hello Kitty products, from dolls, to posters, to stationary on the desk. He shook his head and asked, "What is the big deal? I mean, yeah, it's a cute little cat girl, person, but...she has no mouth. What's up with that?"

His cousin regarded him with a slightly miffed look, "It's like any other toy that a company markets to children. The company makes lots of money, the children make lots of memories!" She smiled and waved at the items, as if that's all the explanation needed. He shrugged, not partaking in her enjoyment. Her mouth quirked and she added, "I'm sure you've played with similar toys. Transformers, maybe?" Civil took that moment to look away, embarrassed. "Also, she was originally designed without a mouth so that you can project your own emotions onto her. She's there for you, for whatever, whenever."

He turned back to her, complete surprise on his face. Then he looked up at the art. After a time, he nodded. "Okay, I can get on board with that. My bad." He rubbed one foreleg with the other.

She smiled down at him, "You know, even if it's just a fictional character, maybe you could use one of these Hello Kitty products to help you?" He raised his brow in question. She clarified, "I mean, to help with your cutie-mark." A shadow swept over his face and he shook his head, turning to leave.

She scooted in front of him and raised her hands, pleading, "I'm sorry! Renee said not to talk about your cutie-mark because you were sensitive with that. But, I can't help it, seeing you without one. It reminds me of the CMCs." She waved her hand at a poster on the wall depicting Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle, all waving out of the poster.

This didn't do much to alleviate is simmering thoughts. He groused, "Oh she did, did she?" He sat back, thinking. Then he shook his head. "You know what, screw her. She needs to quit poking her nose where it's not needed, nor wanted."

Vanessa, a hurt expression at hearing him talk that way about her other cousin, his sister, exclaimed, "How can you think that? She cares about you!"

"Oh yeah? She is pompous, prideful, bossy, nosy, runs around exerting her own agenda onto the world the way she sees fit, and she constantly tries to insert her opinion in my life."

His cousin retorted quietly, "I see a strong woman who cares deeply about her brother and uses all those 'negative things' you so eloquently described as a means to help you."

"Please," he muttered, hunching up defensively. He wasn't so completely daft as to flare his wings, but he felt like he was under attack. He growled softly, "She only does it to make herself feel good. If it's her business, she butts you out. If it's not, she butts INTO everypony else's. Tartarus, she's probably at the door right now, waiting to burst in and 'it's all about me' her way into this conversation."

Renee's face turned red as her hand hovered just shy of knocking on the door outside of the room. She would have gladly burst in, acknowledging the fact that yes, she did in fact butt into HIS business...just so she could smother him in love with this delectable plate she was holding, piled high with sausage links, buttered croissants, cheeses (including Joey's homemade mozzarella), and all manner of finger foods he didn't get to partake in from earlier.

Except his comments heard clearly through the door made her pause. Still...he hadn't eaten. She could go in, drop off the plate and smile, leave, not say a word. Let him think about what she might or might not have heard-

"What a lousy sister," she overheard him say.

She quietly backed away from the door, the plate left outside on the floor. In a few seconds she was far enough not to hear anything anymore. She would have been proud of her teenage cousin her she had stayed, otherwise.

Vanessa tapped him on the nose sharply. It didn't hurt so much as it shocked him that she did it in the first place. "Jason! That's a nasty thing to say about her, after everything she's done for you! Did you know I had to beg her to take my money? She wouldn't even consider it at first because she didn't think any of us had enough to begin with! She was looking out for you."

Rubbing his nose, he mumbled, "She was looking out for me? How?"

She shook her head, almost laughing at his ignorance. "What do you mean, how? The speech she gave us, the way she moved around on the porch while she talked to everybody else, always keeping an eye on you at the same time. Even when I begged her to take my money, all she thought about was how it would affect you, what you would think."

He stopped rubbing his nose and scrunched it up to see if it there was a mark on it. Hey, pony noses are sensitive, don't judge. "Look, she wasn't even supposed to make that deal in the first place. And...about the money...I gave it back to your father. You shouldn't have to spend money just to talk to a blank flank freak."

She knelt down in front of him and gently grabbed his head in her hands, "Civil. I have an idea what the CMC went through. Even if the show is not accurate, I can imagine not fitting in. Look at me. There are things about me that...might not fit in with everyday society, but I don't care what others think. I care what I think, and those who love me think. Isn't that what SHOULD be important?"

He nodded his head, starting to get a feeling for where this was going.

"And, shouldn't it also be important that your sister is looking out for you?" He pulled his head out of her hands, his jaw set.

"I don't hate her, Vanessa. It's just that, she's too much!" She stood up with a questioning look. He shrugged and slowly walked over to the walls containing the MLP stuff. Screw hello kitty. "It's like, she figures out what bothers you and then," he sits back, raising one front hoof to hit the other, "bam bam bam hammers that button like a spastic kid playing Dan in Street Fighter. Seriously, nopony can do anything about my mark."

Vanessa grinned at him, shaking her head. "Renee doesn't know that." That earned her a pair of ears turning toward her with interest. "She quizzed me on the subject like I'm some kind of expert. I only watched the TV shows, but she treated me like one of her professors. And no matter what we talked about, it was always about how she could find a way to help you. Enough so that now I want to help you, too."

He mumbled at her, "Great, you too now."

She reached out and rubbed his nose, mindful that not too long ago she paid painful homage to it. "You should be nicer to her, not let things get to you so much. And you should use newer references. Street Fighter, really? So last two decades."

He snorted at her softly and turned back to admire some of the Royal Guard posters, "Whatever. I like Street Fighter." He adds, a little more quietly, "And I hate her butting in."

"You need to actually thank her. She loves you. We all do, and we want to help you."

One large equine eye rolled back to meet hers. "With my cutie-mark."

"Yes."

He turned around, now a good deal more in control with himself. This is family, and love hurts, but they will always be family, no matter how many legs they walked on. "Look, Vanessa. There's not much you can do. I've lived with this all my life before the curse, and now it looks like after as well. There's no fixing this. It's blank and that's that."

Vanessa tilted her head, "You sound like you've given up."

He shrugged. "At this stage of the game, I don't have the luxury of 'discovering myself'. I stopped worrying about finding my special talent years ago.

"Years ago? When did you stop? WHY, for that matter?"

He sighed heavily, not particularly happy where this conversation went. "Before I entered the Guard. It was a bad time for me." He rustled his wings, curling his body inward a little. "I don't want to talk about it."

Vanessa had seen this behavior in her birds before. A combination of looking bigger to scare off predators coupled with a kind of turtle effect to brace against an attack. She knew to tread lightly. "Is it so bad to not have a mark? I mean, once you get past elementary school bullying, like with the CMCs, adults just ignore it, right?"

He peered up at her, smiling slightly at her naivety. He murmured softly, "You have no idea, Vaness. Our entire society is based on finding your place, your special talent. To have no affirmation of that, it's like you are listless, a ship without sails AND rudder. Not just you knowing you have no talents, but EVERYPONY knows it, too. The nobles sneer at you, the commoners pity you. And every damn first comment a stranger has for you is, 'oh wow, um, no cutie mark?'...followed by suggestions on how to get one. THAT really ticks me off."

He realized he was glowering at her and dropped the look, smiling apologetically. Trying to come up with a better way to explain the shame, he said, "Like Reepicheep always hearing 'You are a mouse.' Can you imagine being highly intelligent, a very gifted poet AND a sword fighter, and society's response to you most of your life is.....'you are a mouse'?"

She giggled softly, remembering the Narnia films. She shook her head, "No, I guess I can't." Petting him on the head, she asked, "So, how does one normally find their talent?"

He shrugged, "A lot of times, your herd helps you. They know you best, so they usually have the intuition to steer you toward it."

She stopped her scratching and remarked, "Huh, the TV show never really showed that part."

He pressed his head against her hand, the glutton for scratching that all ponies were, "Subtleties lost in translation, I imagine."

She looked over the things in her room. "Maybe you need inspiration, a fresh perspective. Like a helping hand."

He raised a concerned brow and replied warily, "I am a tad more aware of the CMC antics than Hasbro has intimated-"

She held up a hand, "Now, just hear me out on some thoughts. Promise me you'll let me help? We're cousins, Jas...ugh. I told my dad to use your correct name and here I am using the old one." She paused and whispered 'Civil' to herself. He muttered 'thanks' to her.

"We're cousins, Civil, and even though this is the coolest thing ever, I mean not to get all Dashy, but I have a real live My Little Pony pony in my room!" She paused again, letting it soak in. He gave her a pass, considering she was young, female, and had been keeping her enthusiasm bottled up mostly until now. "Sorry. It's just really cool having you here." He smirked. "AND being a pony." He nodded.

"It's okay. I guess if I had my own Bumblebee car, I'd geek out too. I do like the flying stuff." He looked down at his hooves and waved one, "No hands though. You could say we got spoiled until we changed back. Didn't know what we were missing until we were cursed. Celestia forbid the one good thing that came out of that curse, hands."

Vanessa giggled and sat down on her bed. "Wow, I hadn't even thought of that." She patted the bed at her side. He rolled his eyes and wandered over to hop up. He turned around, situated himself and laid down, making sure his wings weren't smooshed under him. She began to pet him.

"Sooo...about that promise?"

He gave her a belabored look. "The cutie-mark thing?" Damn she was persistent.

She nodded.

The last of his will crumbled and he was left open to the invading horde that was a teenage girl wanting to help him find his destiny, her devilish hands turning his muscles to putty. "Sure. What harm could it-" She squealed and gently hugged him.

He let it happen, knowing it'd just muss up his feathers if he fought back. He got out, "Just some ground rules. No crusaders bullshit. It's not like the cartoons where you can rebuild this house." He paused, frowning. She sat up, head tilted. He shrugged, "Unless we had a unicorn, but we don't. So no blowing up...anything." She nodded.

He thought some more. "No destruction of any kind." She nodded again. While he was at it, he might as well have tossed in something else, the most vital of things, "And no matter what it is, absolutely, positively, NOTHING, to do with anything sticky. Like pine sap. ESPECIALLY pine sap. Deal?" She grinned back and gently took the wingtip he had proffered to her, shaking it.

"Deal."

He smiled. That wasn't so bad, he guessed.

"I wonder if we should make a list of things you've already tried over the years. Like sudoku, squeeze out the answer through logic."

He groaned, burying his head under his hooves, "I swear to Celestia, List Making better NOT be my special talent, or so help me I'll strangle myself with my own mane mfmff-"

A hand clamped around his muzzle to shut him up. "Oh hush, I'm not going to Sparkle you out. It was just a suggestion. Hm." She thought to herself for a minute. His eyes tracked her facial movements, thoughts telegraphing themselves there.

"I think I should get a rule as well, to make it all square. You game?"

It would be fair, he mused to himself. Shrugging, he pulled his muzzle out of her hand. "Sure, name it."

"Apologize to your sister."

"...."

Damn kids, he swore inwardly.

***

After an exhaustive couple of hours, the whole sudoku approach fell on its face. Civil felt no closer to getting his mark, which was par for the course in his mind, and his cousin looked a tad frazzled for the effort.

He also had a headache, having missed out on food earlier. Alcohol on an empty stomach was a poor meal, for any species.

Rolling up dozens of long lists, Vanessa placed them in a paper bag and offered them to him. He smiled painfully, "What are these for?"

"You know, to add to them as you try new things." After suffering through his groans, she added, "And for future generations. You never know when another needy foal might come along and require some help in their journey." They both stepped out into the hallway.

He reluctantly accepted the bag, but held out his other wing, "Oh Tartarus, no! I am not thinking about having foals right now. Hopefully not for a long time." He glanced at his own flank, then up at her. "Too many things to figure out first."

Her cheeks took on a rosy tinge. She said in a slightly higher pitch, "Oh! I didn't mean dating...stuff. I meant if you run into other ponies and they have problems with their kids."

Civil raised a hoof and dragged it down his face. "Sorry, I'm tired, and hungry, and going back through all that...history was a bit draining. Yes, if I run into other ponies, I can-"

Placing his hoof back down, he tapped a plate full of food sitting next to the door. "Where did this come from?"

Vanessa regarded the plate thoughtfully. "I might have a suspicion..."

Civil shrugged and picked it up with one hoof and immediately grabbed the sausages with his wingtip to eat. Careful to keep any escaping bits over the plate, he stated between mouthfulls, "Probably the kids, some kind of Nightmare Night custom they're trying to pull off." She stared at him. He huffed and explained, "They leave candy at the base of a Nightmare Moon statue as an offering...?"

She scoffed at him, shaking her head. "I know the ritual. But I doubt any of them came up with that, or would sub in actual food for candy. Looks like an adult stacked it. Too precise."

He shrugged, balancing the plate on one hoof while going to the stairs. "Then probably my mother."

Vanessa followed him, frowning slightly, but decided not to argue with the tired pony. "Just remember your promise."

He nodded weakly, "I always keep my promises." He stopped at the top of the stairs. Mortal enemy of all ponies. And Po the kungfu panda. Vanessa took up the plate so he could apply maximum effort to not spilling himself AND food down her parents' staircase. He smiled, "Thankyou, Van."

Once downstairs, he resumed eating. He cleared the plate and went to look for leftovers in the kitchen. The party had wound down and it was later in the evening now. Most of the food had been consumed, but Joey had kept a large supply of sausages to freeze longterm. He prepped another plate for him before turning back to talk to Karen.

"Thanks for that plate earlier, mom." He said.

She raised a brow at him. "Dear, I didn't make any plates for you today. That was someone else's doing."

He stopped chewing and swallowed what he had before asking, "Not you?" She shook her head no. He thought about it, then remembered Renee was supposed to bring back a plate, before he had followed his uncle into the basement.

Quickly finishing the second plate and putting it in the sink, he set off to find his sister. He checked every room inside, checked the basement, then checked the porch outside and the backyard. Nothing. Spotting his father, he asked Daniel if he had seen her.

"Yeah, actually. She went for a walk, down by the stream."

Civil thought that was odd. She never went for walks. At least, the Renee he knew from before college. He thanked his father and trotted toward the line of trees at the edge of the property.

His eyesight at night wasn't very good. Thestrals were better at this low light stuff. He was wondering how he would find her when something acrid tickled his nose.

It was cigarette smoke.

Slowly, he crept past a couple trees and was about to round a third when he spotted a glowing red ember a couple of feet above the ground. Focusing on the light, he was able to make out the outline of her hand, arm, then the rest of her. She was leaning against a tree, smoking.

Smoking!?!

The last time this topic had come up, she was in high school. Her best friend had mentioned to Civil, Jason then, how she had seen Renee smoking once. When he asked his sister about it then, she had gone ballistic, didn't speak to him for three weeks, AND had disowned her best friend, forever.

Suffice to say she kept her habit an excruciatingly tight secret.

And here he was about to blow up said secret, on accident. Just as slowly, he started backing up. One, step, at, a, time >SNAP<.

Fuck, he thought.

"FUCK!" She yelled. Flicking the cigarette away, she came forward quickly. "WHO IS THERE! SHOW YOURSELF!"

He spun around and ran as fast as he could back to the house. He wasn't sure if he had kept from being seen, but that last stretch from the treeline to the house was out in the open.

He muzzled his way through the door just in time for his aunt, Joey's wife Jannet, to hand him a bundle of sheets. "Here you are, Civil. The couch in the living room is available for you. All the beds are taken, and we figured a pony kicking in his sleep would work best solo. Is that okay?"

So innocent in intent. So painful in practice. He gave her a crooked smile and accepted the sheets, walked into the living room and began to make his bed on the couch.

He dared not turn to look when Renee eventually came inside. She paused at the archway between the kitchen and the living room for a minute before going back in and wishing her parents and other relatives good night. Karen asked her why she smelled like smoke and she said she was near the grill most of the night.

Civil took that opportunity to climb in under the sheets and cover himself up. He was really hoping this day would end soon.

***

It was an odd dream. Sure he frequently had the usual struggle-for-survival themes, like trying to fly in a hurricane or fighting aliens in a hive, but this one had a really weird romantic quality to it. Of all things, his dream was of him side by side with Hello Kitty. They were in the elevator and he tapped on the button. It didn't work. They both tapped on it again. The doors began to close.

A xenomorph got halfway through the doors when Civil blew it away. It's acid doused Hello Kitty and she screamed while they stripped her armor off her. She ended up getting burned but he and Bishop stabilized her in the dropship. They exchanged first names and he kissed her on the cheek before he hopped out of the ship to go find Newt.

The dream was interrupted by noise in the kitchen of the waking world. Sunlight was starting to brighten the room. Breakfast type smells drifted in, eggs, pork, toast. While he lied there, listening to his relatives eat loud and talk louder, he grew uncomfortable. Something wasn't right.

He felt cold from the chest down, as in his sheets were cold. Dread rushed to his core. The lights were still off in the living room where he was sleeping on the couch, the Christmas tree lights blinking periodically in the corner.

Civil couldn't believe he had urinated. There was no way! How...wait. He felt about his lower waist and brought his hoof up to his eyes. It wasn't wet so much as it was smeared with a greasy looking substance. An off-white substance.

Dear Celestia's fat ass, Civil thought to himself. His ears immediately swiveled to the kitchen. Please let nopony come out of there...

Trying to extract himself from the sheets was a chore all its own. Pulling up the corners off the cushions, he inspected their fabric. Dry. Miracle. Next task was to bundle all this up and get to the garage where the washing machine was-

In his haste to get to that next part of his plan, Civil failed to scoop up all the corners of BOTH the top sheet and bottom sheet with his wings, resulting in his rear hooves getting entangled in the sheets, again. His first step sprawled him out quite loudly on the wooden floor.

For a second he was reliving that moment in the C-17 again.

Karen stepped into the living room from the kitchen and turned on the lights. She spotted her son and exclaimed, "Civil, are you okay!? Did you hurt yourself? That was a very loud....oh my God, Civil...your...you...!" She pointed low as he sat up.

In horrible shame, he squinted his eyes shut. "Mom, I know. Granted you've never caught me masturbating and sooner or later it was bound to happen, but this," he pointed down with his hoof, "was really not my fault. I-"

"What are you talking about!?! Look at you backside! You have, a mark, you know, a cutie-pie something!"

In stunned surprise he twisted his neck around to stare at his outer thigh. There, in blazing glory, was a picture. A picture of Hello Kitty with a paw in the air, waving.

The pegasus sat there, in a pile of soiled sheets, staring at a very twisted turn of fate.

"How did you get it?" His mother asked, awe in her voice.

Without thinking, he replied numbly, "I was dreaming of that cartoon character Vanessa was showing me yesterday. In the dream Hello Kitty was injured. I saved her, we kissed, and then...then...."

He looked up to Karen, then down at the mess on him. His mother's eyes widened, finally putting his earlier confession together with what she was seeing now.

Karen covered her mouth with her hand, then spoke softly behind it, "Is, um, is that a normal...amount?"

"What!?! None of THIS," he jabbed his front hooves at, well, all of himself, "is normal, mom!"

"Shhh, the others will hear!" She said, trying to save him from embarrassment. Yeah right.

"Hear what?"

Vanessa stood in the archway leading to the kitchen, a piece of dry toast in her mouth. Several other cousins, his aunt, and Renee peered past her to see what the fuss was about.

"Well, you see, Civil got his cutie picture." His mother pointed out, trying to divert attention. From the mess not three inches near said mark. Bless her errant soul.

"Cutie-mark, mom!" He corrected.

"Yes, that," she replied.

"Oh killer!" That was his ten year old cousin, Danny. Great. "How did you get it Civil? WHEN did you get it!?"

"I uh got it...when, um I..."

"During a dream," his mother helped.

"Yeah!" Nice save, mom!

"Doing what?" Renee asked. He glared at her.

"None of your business, sis," he replied snappishly.

"He was kissing," his mom said. Godammit mom!

"Ew, girly stuff. Thank god I'm not a pony, I never would have thought to dream about that to get my special talent," Danny replied and started to turn away when a smaller girl, his little cousin named Angela, tugged on his sleeve.

She asked him, "Danny, what is that white stuff all over the pony?"

There was silence in the room. The tree continued to blink its lights in the corner.

Civil couldn't feel any lower than he did right then.

"What the hell, I had a whole stick of butter at room temperature out last night."

Joey stepped from the kitchen and pushed his way through everyone to see what all the hubbub was in the living room. "Oi, did one of you vultures steal my butter-" He stopped talking when he spotted Civil lying in the heap of bed sheets and the substance smeared all over his lower abdomen and thighs.

"Huh," Joey remarked to himself. "That's where it went." He shrugged and walked back into the kitchen. "Meh, I've seen weirder shit before. You know, I have heavy whipping cream and salt. I can make some more. Now where did you kids put the mixer..."

Author's Note

Fanfic reference: Your Human and You by MadMaxtheBlack

Excellent story there.

Sorry this took a while. All events were imagined prior to any real world events so try not to read anything into it.

Just A Few Hoofprints In The Sand

Civil scraped some of the white stuff off his stomach with his hoof and sniffed it. To everyone's horror, mostly his mother's, he stuck out his tongue to tentatively taste it.

"Jason Civil Patrol Berringer, for the love of all that is Holy, tell me that's butter!"

His ears laid back under his mother's outburst, but he sighed in relief and nodded, muttering, "It's butter, mom."

"Oh thank God for small favors," Karen breathed. She stepped forward and knelt to gather up the sheets, carefully undoing the twisted fabric from about his hind legs. That's when she noticed typical male morning...arousal, most likely from whatever active dream he was having just now, she surmised silently.

Karen averted her eyes and continued to extract the sheets from his limbs, though her eyebrows were raised slightly. Still being somewhat new to pony anatomy, she was mildly impressed. In the past when she was near him, he was never...this way, so seeing that was quite new to her, if weird since this was also her son. She muttered to herself, "At least we know...some of it still works."

Granted he was the only one that heard, but he still gasped in shock, "What the Tartarus is that supposed to mean?!" while turning his lower half away from her.

She leveled a troubled gaze at him, "Well, dear, your father and I were hoping for grandkids, and what with you changing, and your sister not getting married anytime soon-"

"I heard that!"

"-I just assumed," she shrugged and waved her hand around at him, as if that was supposed to explain everything.

No, it didn't. So many tartaruses and hells no.

As he was nowhere near any state of mind to continue this particular conversation, she nodded at its conclusion. Before she stood up, though, his mother looked him square in the eye and said sternly, "After you go clean yourself up, you and I are having a little chat about when, and where...and HOW...to use the...the..." She paused, glancing down at his lower half. "Well, how to use the butter properly. I don't care what planet you are from, we are guests at my brother's house and we just don't do 'that' here...whatever 'that' is." Pursing her lips thinly, she shook her head and stood, making her way to the garage.

Turning back to the other members of his family, most of them had wandered away, dismissing it as more weird pony antics. Four stayed behind; Renee, Vanessa, Danny (named after Civil's human father) and Angela. Three of them were giving him looks based on their age, from the youngest in abject fascination, to abject gross on Danny's face ('I mean, come on, Civil, I've had food fights before, but seriously???'), to a mixture of shock, confusion, and strangely enough, sadness on Vanessa's face. One face showed no surprise at all.

Renee.

Hers was the typical aloof contemplation he frequently saw when she was at the center of the hurricane and enjoying the moment.

"You." He wasn't accusing. He just wanted answers, plain and simple. "You made me think that I...for fuck's sakes, WHY, Renee!?!"

She cleared her throat, "Civil, there are children present." Lessons in civility from her? Right. She glanced at the three juveniles. Then, she recited a wikipedia definition, "Shock value is the potential of an image, text, action, or other form of communication, such as a public execution, to provoke a reaction of sharp disgust, shock, anger, fear, or similar negative emotions." Literally out of wikipedia. Literally using the word 'literally' correctly, too.

Then she blinked and smiled, "We studied this in Psyche 101, even did experiments. But to the purpose, it was to help free you. Psychologically speaking, a shocking event, when shown it is fictional, is supposed to jar your state of consciousness, in that it should put into perspective that you shouldn't let things control you. Your cutie mark, or lack thereof, should not hamper you in what you choose to do."

"Civil, about your mark-" Vanessa began but he held up a hoof, staring at Renee.

"Psychologically speaking..?" he asked quietly.

She noddled her head at him.

Vanessa stepped in between Renee and the now wing-flared pegasus. She pleaded, "Calm down, it's not what you think. Mostly. Aside from the butter-"

Ever so gently, he slowly brushed past his cousin, dragging a wing over her arm to let her know she was not his target.

"Psychologically speaking, I'm going to kick your ass, woman!!!"

With that, he dug in his hooves and charged, trying to close distance with his sister. She was quicker and more agile than he thought, which found him sliding past the table in the kitchen and consequently past the hallway where Renee had turned the corner. She made her way to the staircase at the front of the house and vaulted up the steps. Scrambling onto his hooves again, he made it back to the hallway and turned the corner, Vanessa trailing behind him and screaming for him to stop and listen. The two younger cousins were chasing along behind her, laughing about the merry time they were now having.

Joey continued whipping a fresh batch of butter, never looking up despite the commotion. "Damn kids."

Daniel resumed chewing his toast, tilting his head to hear the commotion without looking like he was having too much fun.

A door slamming at the top of the stairs told Civil she had barricaded herself in Vanessa's room. While galloping up the stairs, he felt a tugging sensation on his flank, so he took a moment on the top landing to inspect his side. It was the cutie-mark...or would have been, had he not noticed the edge starting to peel up. Gingerly touching it with his wingtip, he found it was one of Vanessa's nicely made felt surfaced stickers, made just like the art piece on the wall. Angrily he tried to rip it off, but only succeeded in tearing it in half down the middle. This prank was getting crueler by the minute. That's when he turned and loaded up both hind legs to break through.

"Are you about to mule kick my door?!" Yelled Vanessa as soon as she could see past the top steps. The two younger children bowled into her legs from behind, but she ignored them.

"This is a family matter, Vanesse, stay out of it!" The momentary pause did drain half of the rage out of him, which also meant he started rethinking smashing through a door which really belonged to his aunt and uncle, two people he didn't want to upset. He lowered his legs and glared up at her. "Look, what she did was horrible and-"

Vanessa noticed the sticker piece stuck to his wing. "You tore it. You tore Hello Kitty," she whispered quietly. Considering all the yelling that was just done, that whisper was deafening. "I gave that to you...as a gift...." He looked at his wing. Still stuck to the blackened tip, was the piece with the waving paw. The signed waving paw.

There went the other half of his rage.

Slumping back on his haunches in shock, he asked belatedly, "What? You did this?" He glanced at his backside, just to make sure he wasn't in some deranged dream. "Why would you do that?"

"We agreed I could help you. I came up with the sticker thing while you were asleep. I thought it was like training wheels, you know? So you wouldn't have to think about it so much. And..." She slowly stepped over to him and gently peeled off what was left on his flank, tears forming in her eyes. "And since you can project whatever feelings you want onto her, she would always be with you, or something."

Despite feeling absolutely horrible about the sticker itself, he was still steaming from 'other' things. He blinked, catching something Vanessa had said. "Wait a sec, you are making it sound like I'm lonely. Where would you get that?"

Her lower lip quivered and her eyes briefly flicked at the door.

"My sister?" He asked darkly. He slowly turned back to the door, facing it. "And the butter?"

Dead silence for a full minute.

"Renee! I am not talking to you for, for fucking forever!!!"

"I was only trying to help!" Was the muffled response from inside the room.

He growled back, "Tell me that there was ZERO vindictiveness in that fucking butter idea. Go on, say it!"

"....when you say zero, is that like thoughts, or percentage-?"

"You fucking bitch!" He turned around to stomp down the stairs but found the sticker half that Vanessa had been holding a few steps lower. She must have quietly left during the silence.

When he got downstairs, most of his family members avoided looking at him. Joey gave him a small smile, asked if he was okay. Civil nodded but said nothing. He wasn't in the mood to talk to 'anyone'. The whole subject of being lonely made him pointedly avoid thinking of the 'anypony' concept since, it was now obvious to him, he was the only pony around.

So why should there be an 'anypony'?

To make matters worse (because they always got worse) his mother opened the garage door from outside, saw him in the kitchen, and silently motioned for him to step into the garage so they could have their chat.

Once he closed the door behind him and made his way down the few steps to the garage floor, he mused that being near the washing machine and dryer masked any conversation that wasn't above shouting levels. Whatever was to be said, it would be private. Eyeing him for a few seconds, she finally asked, "I take it that rat race you just pulled with your sister has something to do with your...dairy adventures?"

Glaring to the side, he muttered, "She put that stuff on me sometime during the night. I didn't...you know." He felt his cheeks warming. Granted he always felt he could talk to her about anything. Yet he was starting to discover things that were too private these days.

She made a tsking sound with her tongue, shaking her head. "That girl." Frowning at the the torn sticker on his flank, she asked. "And she did that?"

He shook his head. "No, actually that was Vanessa. Trying to help." His mother closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Human or not, they are all your family in there. With strangers and acquaintances, you can put out of your mind and move on when you feel like it suits you. Family is forever. ALL family," she added sternly when he started to shake his head. "Remember that, Civil. We will ALWAYS be there for you." She knelt down and kissed his forehead. She also reached around and took off the remainder of the sticker. "Want me to throw this away?"

In alarm, he grabbed the sticker out of her hand with his teeth, this time to be a hell of a lot more careful. Transferring it to his wing next to the other half, he shook his head. "No. She gave it to me. Maybe I can fix it and give it back to her later." Karen shrugged and stood up to check on the clothes.

"We'll be leaving soon to head down to the condo, once these clothes are done. Might want to make amends with your cousin and gather up your leather bags. Thank your aunt and uncle for letting us stay the night, too." She knew they had a whole trip for her two children to work things out, but tempers were too raw right now to push it, so she didn't mention Renee anymore. Her nose wrinkled slightly. "And do take a shower first."

Turning away, he mumbled, "They're saddlebags, mom." She gave him 'the look', the kind mothers do when responses are not needed and could result in dire consequences. He plodded his way up the short steps and back into the house.

***

The drive down to Ocean City was a very quiet one, near stifling. Vanessa did forgive him. In fact, she apologized for making him upset. She had intended to wait until he was awake and then let him know about the sticker, a sort of covering up the stigma of not having his mark yet. The resultant snowball of events was NOT intended, nor did she know about the social taboo of wearing fake marks to cover up one's true nature or falsely proclaim one's ascension into maturity, as opposed to properly coming of age. Her real regret was not getting out of her kitchen chair fast enough before Civil crashed to the floor.

His aunt and uncle were understanding. Frankly, he figured they were relieved their rampaging pony of a nephew didn't cause massive damage to their home, given what rumors they heard about pony leg strength, from random tidbits in the news, the internet, and their daughter. Most of the raw feelings between family members had been dealt with when they piled into the car and began their trek. Mostly.

Brother and sister were not talking to each other. Parents were not spared either. Whenever they tried to address the issue or lighten the mood, responses from their children were gruff, if any response came, so they gave up. Karen decided it would be best if Civil rode up front with his father and she sat in the back with Renee. His sister was dreading the inevitable conversation her mother was likely to pounce on her with in those first two hours, but to her surprise, it never came.

That didn't bode all that well, either. Which meant her mother had disapproved of her actions even more than normal and was merely steeping her opinion until it was good and ready to unleash. In the meantime, it should have made Renee feel good that she didn't have to deal with it just yet. Except, it made Renee feel worse. She grudgingly accepted that mother's guilt was a devastating weapon, and if she ever had kids, she was sure to wield it on them in all its glory.

Halfway during the four hour trip, the family made a pit stop at one of the larger gas stations. Renee was determined to do something. She never liked heavy clouds to sit over situations like this when she could be spending that time chatting and being happy, remarking on the scenery. You know, awesome vacation shit! The row between her and her brother had put a real damper on things this morning, so she set about making amends with him.

Still keeping an eye on him as they all made their way inside the large store, Renee noted that other customers were giving him odd looks as he clip-clopped to the restrooms. He had elected to go barehoof today, for some pony reason or another she couldn't quite fathom. He barely took notice of the noise he was making, meaning he was in a confrontational mood, she mused.

Regardless of his footwear preferences, she was not about to follow him into the men's restroom. He was on his own in that department. But something did catch her eye. Wandering over to the shelves of souvenirs and trinkets, one item stood out in arrogant glory. Grabbing it, making her purchase at the register and wrapping the small paper bag around it so she could stuff it in her pocket, it was a peculiarly jovial sister that greeted the returning pegasus when he pushed his way through the front swinging doors to the parking lot.

Glancing once at her, he snorted with a flick of his ear, continuing on to the car, a happy Renee in tow.

Civil could feel her about to burst with whatever was on her mind, with the fidgeting she was doing. How she went from evil bitch mode to happy go lucky in the time it took for him to empty his bladder was more scary to him than...yeah, he was not feeling the good times right now.

They pulled back out onto the highway and it was a solid ten minutes before the dam finally broke.

"Civil?" Great, here it comes, more bullshit from his now officially aggravating bitch of a- "I got you this. I hope you like it. Reminds me of you." A small package dropped down into his lap from her hand hovering just over his shoulder.

He folded his forelegs across his chest, staring down at it.

"Are you going to open it?"

He waited two full minutes in that position before unfolding his legs and opened the package. He initially fumbled at the small box and taped edges until Renee reached forward to help, but he pushed her hands away and resorted to using his wingtips to pry at the edges. The tape gave way, which allowed him to tear off the cardboard flaps and pull out the item inside.

It was a Marvel Deadpool mini Domez figure, essentially a superdeformed figurine of Deadpool inside a plastic dome. He had one leg hitched up like he was leaning back on something, arms crossed in front of him. Just like Civil, earlier. He snorted to himself and shook his head. Pulling out his phone to play on it, he muttered, "Thanks. I think."

Renee frowned, obviously expecting more than a glance and a thankyou. She looked at her mother, who shook her head at her, "Don't look at me, this is your mess." His sister stared out the window, and got very bored very quickly. She noticed her brother was tapping on his phone with a hoof. A lot.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm playing a game about evolution," he responded quietly, concentrating on his phone. "Starts at the cellular level and then you progressively go up an evolutionary tree to the later complex lifeforms."

"Mkay....what's with all the tapping?" She leaned forward to peer at his phone. The game didn't even look like a game. More like a tedious way to waste time, to her.

"If you tap the screen, you get extra entropy points."

" ...."

He sighed, rolling his eyes at her, "You use points to buy the evolutionary nodes to further develop the Earth."

"Hmm." She watched him play for a few minutes. "Can I see it?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, but couldn't see anything wrong with the request. Maybe now was the time to mend some bridges. "Sure..." He handed over the phone.

She started tapping one finger. "Hm." She tapped two fingers at the same time. And got twice as much entropy.

His jaw slowly dropped open. Why didn't he think of that? Looking down at his fingerless hoof, he answered his own question. Right.

Renee looked up and gave him an evil look. She started tapping five fingers at once rapidly, making five times the entropy points.

Slowly he reached over, pressed the velcro grip to the back of the phone and yanked it out of her hand. After turning it off, he dropped the device in his lap. Then he looked out the window and said sullenly, "....I hate you."

"Hey, what did I do?! I was having fun!"

"I would think," her mother interjected, "after that stunt you pulled at Joey's, you would be more sympathetic to his feelings."

She turned to her, exclaiming, "I am! I'm trying to toughen him up a little. Liberate him from his angst. He let's things get to him."

Karen replied in a lowered voice, "He's been through a lot. You ask too much of him too soon. You were never patient." She tsked to herself and found something innocuously not important to look at outside the car. "The very least you could do is help him find a job, something he is good at and can do well."

"I don't need help finding a job," he retorted, still staring outside.

"Mom...he's good at getting mad."

"...."

"Alright already, enough with the look," Renee said, holding up her hand, "I can feel it from here."

Several more minutes passed in blessed quiet. Minutes that ended much too soon.

"Mom, did you know you are a meme?" she asked her sweetly.

"I'm a what?"

"You do know what a meme is, right?"

"Yes. It's one of those things...that...okay I don't know what that is." Karen wasn't going to let her daughter fluster her. Still a few hours away from the destination.

"It's like when someone says 'Use The Force', everybody knows that's a Star Wars reference."

Karen's eyes narrowed. What was she playing at? "I know movie references. How am I a reference?"

"Well..."

Civil twisted around, "Really, Renee? You are going there?"

"Oh hush, enjoy your Deadpool, we're having mother-daughter time right now."

Civil gave his mother a plaintive look and then turned to face forward again. Karen hm'd to herself. She knew her children long enough to know Renee was trying to get a rise out of her, but she played along, mostly out of curiosity. And the fact that her daughter didn't usually have interesting discussions with her.

"I'll bite. How am I a movie...thing?"

"Meme."

"Yes, that."

Renee used her phone to pull up a wiki entry on the term 'Karen' and showed her mother.

As Karen read, her face darkened. "I'm not antagonistic." She kept reading. "You think I'm antagonistic?" while looking up at her.

"Well, sometimes-"

"And my hair is neither blonde NOR bobcut. And I've NEVER asked to see the manager or the chef," Karen declared. She chuckled once. "Your father does that," she said primly, a thin smile on her face. Now she wasn't happy with Renee's insinuation.

Daniel grinned while driving, "Remember France?"

Karen shuddered. "Yes...always. Children, just because I have the same name doesn't mean I am this Karen meme thing."

"It's a rank you earn, mom, not a person-" Renee tried to get in.

"Whatever. I was given that name long before this silliness came out," she said, handing the phone back to her precocious daughter, "and when it goes the way of bellbottoms, I hope to still be around. Any other attempts to get under my skin, dear?" She smiled at Renee, teeth on full display.

"...no mom." Renee finally got the hint.

"Good. Let's have some quiet time, now that 'mother-daughter' time is officially over."

More silence.

Then, "Hey, daddy-?"

"Sorry, honey bunny, busy driving!"

Civil snorted to himself as he watched a bead of sweat roll down his father's forehead.

***

Put simply, it was the rise and fall of white noise, so much water rolling up into itself and crashing upon the sand, millions of foamy bubbles popping in an aftermath of sizzling exuberance. Civil sometimes lamented his logical side's less appreciative analysis of something that was otherwise, calming.

The smell of brine in the air brought in by the breeze through the sliding glass doors, the sound of waves, not big ones mind you, but small and occasionally medium ones rolling in and dispensing themselves on the beach. The birds crying out every now and then. These sounds sang to him. These were of home.

In a certain poetic amusement, he had grown up in Mareland, a substate up north in Equestria, east of Baltimare. There was no Ocean City, unlike the mirrored location he and his family were at now. Growing up as a pony, he remembered there were no outlying cities or townships. Just a small coastal village and a lighthouse he called home.

Well, until that fateful night he eavesdropped on his father and became enraged over what he had overheard. Too young, he had struck out on his own, heading to Canterlot, and thus ensued his troubled career of one short job to the next, until he finally lucked out at a local pub. One quick selfless yet painful fight for a mare's honor, he was noticed and hired by the Royal Guard.

He wrinkled his nose in remembrance. This was not the place for dark memories. This was home. Okay, home away from home...homes. He sighed and forced himself to relax, letting his wings fall to either side of him as he lay on the couch in the living room. The condo was family owned, a nice two bed two bathroom residence on the third floor in a four floor building.

Their residence overlooked the ocean. From its position right up on the beach they could see up and down the line of neighboring condos and some hotels in the distance to either side. He hadn't been here in years, and this was exactly what he needed. The evening prior they had pulled into the underground garage with a fair bit of afternoon sun left, but everyone was already edgy with each other so it was a slow evening of television, online surfing and minimal dinner conversation. This morning he had woken up to these reminders of home maybe an hour ago, and he was intent on enjoying them.

A throat cleared. "Um, hey......! Brother! I have, sort of, a request. More like an arrangement. If you can do this for me, I'll do anything for you. For the rest of the trip, even!"

The chipper voice (she was ever UN-chipper?) cut through his mind and dashed away all memories of his former home. Twisting his spine a little to work out a kink that was starting to bother him all of a sudden, he muttered, "Uh huh. Later, Renee."

Slightly peeking through one eye, he caught her standing next to him crossing her arms defensively. "Spbpt, don't be like that, you haven't even heard me out." He snorted and rolled away from her, one wing covering his head.

"Oh come on! Hear me out!" He lowered his wing, just enough to uncover his ear. "Fine, be that way. I guess you don't want to visit the Mariner's Deck anytime soon." Both his ears strained in her direction now. She grinned.

"Okay, what do you want?" His voice was muffled against the pillow.

She clapped her hands like she was playing patty cake and sat down heavily on what couch was left unoccupied by him. "Glad you asked! I was out shopping this morning...and I may have gone by a certain store you like. The Kite Loft!" She had to be beaming as she imparted this news on her. Slowly he pulled his muzzle out of the pillow and regarded her solemnly. He must have looked dour because her 'beaming' dampened like a setting sun. Despite that, though, she sat down in the couch near him. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"You do realize I can fly now...kites, they don't do it for me anymore."

A single hand reached over and started playing with his fetlocks on one hind leg. "Yeah, I know that, nutball. It doesn't mean I can't do it now."

Well that was confusing, evidenced on Civil's face. She giggled at his reaction. Something wasn't quite right. "Hang up a sec," he groused. Sitting up against the far end of the couch and pulling his leg away from her, he eyed her suspiciously. "You've NEVER wanted to fly kites. Why the sudden interest?"

"No sudden interest at all!" She said that WAY too quickly, Civil mulled to himself. She continued her obvious dissembling. "You always looked like you were having fun flying those acrobatic kites around-"

"Stunt kites."

"-acrobatic 'stunt' kites, and I figured, you know, I would give it a try, and since you are our resident kite person, thought you could help." Beaming smile, again.

His dour stare lightened a little. He knew his interests had changed over the years. Who was he to knock hers. Here she was asking for help in something he did love at one point, though it now paled in comparison to his own wings. "Okay, I can help. Let's see what you got."

She made a keening squeal that had his ears ringing long after she returned from the bedroom pulling a plastic wagon loaded with newly purchased items.

"I am sooo glad you want to help, oh, this is gonna be so cool!"

He waved his hooves to calm her down. "Okay okay, yeah, your first stunt kite." He sat up more and stared at the wagon. "Huh, I suppose that is useful, never needed one myself."

Grinning at him, Renee pulled out a plastic bag from the wagon and dumped the contents on the floor. They consisted of two heavyweight nylon rope handles, the kind you would use for control lines to a large kite with a heavy pull, like stunt foils. There were red and blue spools of Spectra line at 300 pound test strength, a small Bluetooth headset normally used by telemarketers. Odd. And a pair of black leather fleece-lined BDSM cuffs with silver buckles. He looked up at her and raised a brow.

"Oooookay. Where's the kite?"

She stared at him, smiling.

Blinking away the most insane thought that threatened to molest his mind, he tentatively reached over to the wagon with a wingtip and pulled it closer. Looking inside, he saw a blanket. He lifted the blanket. Nothing. He gave a nervous snort and pulled back into the couch.

"Renee...where is the kite? And don't you dare so much as suggest-"

"PLEASE!?!?! I promise I'll do anything you want! You don't know how long I've wanted my very own flying pony! And now my brother is one this is too much an opportunitytopassup pleasepleasepleaseplease!!!" She had on her desperation/pleading skillset at the moment, complete with sparkling eyes he swore went anime style as he looked to his mother. She was in the kitchen, staring at them.

"Mom!?! Tell her she's insane!!!"

She jumped slightly. "Oh, uh...you know me," she chuckled nervously, going back to drying off the morning's breakfast plates, "I don't know anything about kites." Glancing quickly to the dining table, she asked, "Daniel? Any...words of wisdom, for this...situation?"

He looked up from his phone where he was reading the news. "I figure as long as they use a safe word, they're good to go-" He paused when a dishrag hit him in the head. After that, neither parent was giving any advice to the trapped pegasus.

***

The elevator only had to go down two floors, they were living on the third floor for crying out loud.

"Actually, we have to go to the garage level, so I can haul you up the ramp. The steps and all at the ground floor won't allow safe travel for the wagon, remember?" Renee asked.

Civil grumbled. He'd spoken his thoughts out loud. It was all he could do to keep his balance in the wagon when the doors finally opened and his sister pulled him along. Normally this might be fun, getting a free wagon ride, except there was a thick heavy blanket covering him, which meant every bump and twist left him a half second behind and lurching around to stay in. Not that she wasn't struggling either. He was a good one hundred thirty pounds and change, roughly. And the wagon was a bit top-heavy, so he was positioned, bracing all four hooves outward against the wagon walls in a semi-seated position.

He could feel the grinding of the pavement shift to sand, which caused Renee to struggle more. He smiled. Good, make her work for this. All too soon the struggling stopped and she announced, "Finally! Let's see, wind is that way, so I should pull you that way...." She made a big deal of stuff that was second nature to him even as a human. He merely lowered his body and head, dreading the next invevitable moments. Which also came all too quickly for his taste.

The front end of the blanket lifted up and Renee stuck her head underneath, grinning. "Ready to fly, flyboy!?"

Civil raised his hoof and adjusted the headset he was wearing, making sure the mic was near the corner of his mouth. "Sure, whatever. Let's just hurry it up and never speak of it again."

She laughed and started working on his lowered leg, "Oh yeah yeah, you whine too much. Let's put these on first." She slipped a leather cuff around his ankle, secured the strap through the buckle, then eyed his other leg expectantly. He sighed and put it down, whereupon she placed the other cuff. "Good!...oh yeah. These." She reached outside the wagon and dragged up two control lines with clips on the end. Renee attached one to each cuff and made sure they were locked. "There you are! Okay, might want to take that stance you insisted on, because this is the big reveal."

He stared daggers at her, but complied. Bribery with a week's worth of happy hour all-you-can-eat Old Bay steamed shrimp and beers at his favorite restaurant was a dirty move, but a convincing one. Anything short of that, he would have said some choice words to her and rolled over, sister or not.

Renee backed up a few feet, holding onto the edge of the blanket. When Civil situated himself, fully up on all fours locked straight in parade attention, she whipped off the blanket. Sun blinded his eyes and he did everything he could not to squint and shield his face. Several beach goers had stopped to admire whatever project this young woman seemed to be working on. Occasionally there was the famous sand castle maker or some weird beach walking device powered by wind, so you were always guaranteed an audience if you were doing something different. When they saw what must have been some kind of pony pinata, they oohed and awed, waiting to see what would happen next. Renee made a big deal of walking up to the front of the wagon, leaning low and reaching out to his chest with a finger.

"Get ready with the wings, I'm going to crank them up now," she whispered up to him.

He whispered back, "You're the crank. Be careful where you stick that finger, sis. Ponies can buck forward as well as behind them." All the while he didn't move.

She grinned and looked at you-

"Hey! No fourth wall breaks!"

She stared at him in dismay under the blanket, "Seriously!?! You're going to shut down a fourth wall break before I even attempt it? That's just mean."

"It's not personal," he grumbled. "Just, fourth wall breaks don't work out well while pegasi are flying, or any kind of breaks."

She rolled her eyes, "Oh you. I have no idea what you are talking about. Have you even tried it yet? It'll be exciting, like the first time you tried flying."

He couldn't believe he was even having this kind of conversation with her, doing this stupid stunt for her in the first place, but that didn't stop him from thinking back to his first time flying. He had been so eager to learn, he jumped out of the top window of their lighthouse home before his dam and sire were ready to go with him. They weren't even in the same room at the time. He flapped his wings thinking that was all you needed to do. It wasn't. But his mother was there, swooping in to hold him around his small barrel and pull both of them up just shy of hitting the rocks below.

Then instead of dragging him back up to scold him, they flew low over the crashing waves, the rocks, the beach, the shoreline, the ocean. All the while he yelled and laughed, seaspray spritzing them as the sights whizzed by in furiously quick glory. Never once did he look up, so confident that he would fly, and this was as good a means of flight, if not better, than any he ever did or ever would experience.

Had he looked up, he would have seen the pain that crossed her face, the wincing and strain that telegraphed that this effort was taking a lot out of her, what it was costing her, but he was young and only looked ahead, never where he was, or what he was doing.

And she would never let him know what it was doing to her, only that the joy of seeing her son happy and full of energy, that was enough. That was everything, to her. Looking back now, knowing what he knew....

"It was...tragic, actually. Because now that I think on it-"

"Exactly! Nothing you haven't experienced before." Renee beamed back at him. He lowered his eyelids.

"That's not what I meant," he muttered, but didn't argue further. He'd already agreed to this, and there was shrimp on the line. "Damn shrimp," he added quietly.

She raised a brow and snorted, then poked the fluff on his chest. Once. Civil sighed inward and started humming loudly, slowly extending his wings outward into a pseudo flight style. The wagon shifted as though there was less weight pushing it down into the sand. In fact, that's exactly what was happening, he thought. Civil hadn't really thought about it until now, but the magic imbued in his wings alone was starting to make him rise. Not enough to gain actual flight, but just enough that if a huge gust of wind came through, he'd flip over. It would hurt, too, since he was required to keep his body frozen as though he were an inanimate object. The crowd was slowly growing.

Civil could see light reflecting off the buckles of his leather cuffs from the sun and fought very hard not to turn pink in front of everyone. The idea was to act like a fake pony that his sister would fly. Shrimp were on the line here!

He whispered harshly, "Renee, hurry up! I can't hold my wings out very long or I'll have to take flight on my own!" She must have noticed as well and nodded, running backwards while trailing the control lines wide to either side so as not to tangle them. Once all the slack was out, she tapped her mic.

"Hey, can you hear me?"

His was locked to two-way mode. "Yes, hurry!"

Taking several deliberate steps back, she slowly hauled on the lines so as not to spill him forward out of the wagon. He leaned back and pushed off the wagon just the barest amount. With the high winds rushing down the beach, that's all it took and he soared straight up, the lines and his angling making it possible for the wind to take him...exactly like a kite.

She squealed. "I can't believe this is working!"

"Good, it's working. You owe me so much." He slowly crept higher into the air until he met that sweet spot where he was still angled into the wind but held steady and anchored by the lines. He swayed slightly back and forth as the gusts came up, his position high in the sky.

She retorted, "Oh stop crying. I-" She stopped short, then started cackling.

"What!?!"

"Nothing....My Little Ponykite."

He glared down, which was completely lost on her since she could barely see his facial expressions. "Fuck you!"

"Oi, language! And do some loops. And quit swearing. Children down here." Nobody could hear him up there, she mused quietly.

He raised his voice slightly, doubting anybody would hear him on the headset besides her anyway, "Hey you kids, that woman is evil. Ask her about her performance in The Wiz back in high school. 'Best portrayal of the witch, ever' they said. 'She's not acting,' mom said."

"Oh whatever, now shut it! Loopdy loops, now!"

He stuck out his tongue, but did a few loops when the lines tugged a little. Over the next few minutes he got used to the lines telegraphing where she wanted him to go. Mostly he used them as anchor points and tilted this way and that until he reached the edges of the wind envelope, always keeping the lines taut so it really did look like she was in control. It was rather pleasant, if a bit demeaning. Still, she smiled, and for some unselfish reason, it was nice to see her getting enjoyment out of something he was doing for her. After a nice series of spirals and an L maneuver to position him back up front and center, she nodded dismissively.

"By the way, does song magic work over radio and between pony and non-ponies?"

Looking a bit distracted when a sudden gust of wind buffeted him, he spat out quickly, "Yes, I heard it works over electronics and between species..." A cold feeling seeped into his core as he paused. He stared down at his sister. "No. Renee, don't! There's copyright laws and they'll-"

She nodded during his plea, took a few more steps back until the lines were tight, and then-

"♪ With some cuffs and string and a prayer. ♪"

"♪ I can spread my wings without care, ♪" he responded, eyes wide in shock. He whispered, "Dear Celestia, Renee, please don't do this!"

"♪ With your hooves pointed so, ♪" she sang relentlessly while sawing the lines in time to music that was starting to chime in.

"♪ I'll fly unlike a booooooaaaaa.........T, ♪" he quickly sang back. He gulped. Then he growled, "Don't you dare, you capricious little cun-"

Renee jerked several steps back again, pulling hard on the lines just when the wind picked up and sang, "♪ Now it's time for a show...do some stunts to and fro! ♪"

Angled just right, Civil flew in an ever widening spiral. "No," he yelled.

"♪ So...♪" she sang.

"NO."

"♪ SO! ♪"

"NO!"

"♪ SOOOoooo! ♪"

"♪ Let's, ♪" they both sang, "♪ Go, FLY A Pony! ♪"

"I hate you!" Civil growled into the mic.

"♪ High enough so he looks phoney, ♪" Renee continued on.

"I really do hate you-"

"♪ Let's go fly a pony, so he...isn't...boring. ♪"

"I am NOT boring!" he yelled back.

"♪ Up in the Strato Sphere- ♪"

***

The pegasus Strato Sphere was flying along minding his own business while doing an errand in the town of Odessa when something got his attention and he plowed into a business building window, causing quite a disruption in several offices of the fifth floor. He swore, a lot.

***

"♪ Up so we can't hear him swear! Oh let's goooo, fly a pony! ♪"

Civil grabbed his mic with a hoof to make sure it was directly in front of his muzzle so that damned sister of his could hear him- "Dammit Renee you can't just pop off 4th wall breaks or whatever the fuck that was, it's dangerous! You're just doing this out of revenge, aren't you?

"Yes. And I have no idea what you are talking about. It's the sky. Troposphere, Strato Sphere, Cryosphere."

"Cryo...that's not even a fucking section of the sky!"

"Well you're doing a lot of it up there, might as well be!"

"...................I can HEAR you making a distinction with the strato...grr, you have no shame admitting to it being revenge, do you!?!"

"None at all."

He thought for a few seconds as the music continued in the background, waiting for the participants to come back in, "...the banana phone song?"

"I may be vindictive, but I am not vicious about it. I figure turnabout is fair play, right?"

"Wow, a saint."

"Oh stop whining. We're not done yet. We made a deal and I'm enjoying this. You should too. You actually look kinda cool up there. Wish I could be up there." Some of the anger left him when he heard that last bit. He wanted to say something else but the music came up louder. "Buck up, it'll be over soon.

....and....

"♪ Let's go fly a pony! ♪" they sang, Civil resigning himself to his fate.

"♪ Up so he sunburns like bologna. ♪"

Civil mutters, "That was a mouthful, Renee, you sure your mouth isn't full of bol-"

"♪ Let's go fly a pony, and send him roaring! ♪" She hauled on one of the lines, causing him to cut across the sky against the raging winds, then back to the center.

"♪ Up through the Strato Sphere! ♪" Civil's eyes widened-

***

Just then Strato Sphere finally made his way out of the building, all cuts and bruised from the glass, cubicles, aluminum beams, concrete, more glass, apologizing and promising to fix things. When he turned to the street and tried to take off, he got distracted again and brained himself against a flagpole sticking out from the side of the building above the entrance.

***

"♪Up where we don't give a care! ♪"

"No shit you don't give a care! You just-"

"♪ Oh let's gooooo fly a pony! ♪" They sing together.

Civil gave up trying to stop his sister and her antics. His pony magic for music had taken hold now, and several people down on the beach were holding each other's hands and swaying in time to the music, adding their voices to the mix. One particular person had pulled up with a rather colorful cart loaded with kites. The man was tall, thin, and wearing a cabby cap.

"Jolly fine day for kite flying, Gov'nas! What brings you out to this far flung story?" He was addressing two rather important looking people in suits. One individual had the nametag 'K' on their chest while the other sported an 'X' tag.

"Jolly day it is indeed!" X said.

"Quite right!" K followed up.

X stated, "Incidentally, we are here to make sure policies are followed." Conspiratorially they whispered to the salesman, "There was a rumor of a violation!" K nodded emphatically.

"No siree, Gov'na! No barney in this story. Might I interest you in a kite? Oiv got just the one!" He handed over two black box kites with the word CENSOR written on the sides.

"Why thankyou!" X said.

"Indeed, it suits us most succinctly!" K replied.

The kite selling man grinned ear to ear and said, "Enjoy yourselves, just don't hammer the author too hard, all in light humor!"

Then Dick Van Dyke started singing. Civil closed his eyes, wishing he would die right there and slam into the beach, just to spite his sister.

"♪ When you trope and meme without care, others stop what they're doing and stare. But if your kite is fussy- ♪"

"I am not-" Civil yelled.

"♪ -and acts like a pussy- ♪"

"You son of a bitch! I hated your show when you were popular and every movie you made since, you dirty fu-"

"♪ -then just yank your fist tight, and he'll fly straight and right! ♪"

"As soon I come down there I'm kicking your ass first you dick van suckit!" Civil yelled.

"♪Oh, ♪" all the beach started singing now, "♪ oh ooooooh... ♪"

"♪ Let's go fly a pony! ♪"

Mutter.

"♪ Wish he flew less like a zamboni! ♪"

"Double the shrimp," he grumbled.

"♪ Let's go fly a pony! ♪"

"Double the beers," he groused.

"♪ Cuz everyone knows he doesn't drink! ♪"

"That doesn't even rhyme, dammit!"

"♪ Up in the Strato Sphere! ♪"

"Oh come on! Have a Celestia-damned heart!"

"♪ Up where he has no fear! ♪"

"Holy shit, a compliment! Fuck you too!"

"♪ Oh let's goooooooooooo fly a pony! ♪"

The song drifted away, as did most of the beach denizens when the magic faded. Oddly enough, Dick Van Dyke and the two suits disappeared as well. Just as well, Civil thought to himself. He wasn't in the mood to deal with 'that' kind of attention anytime soon. Or the ass kicking. He didn't care how old that man was.

A few people did decide to linger.

Two young adults, by the look of it, a guy and girl. The guy leaned over to Renee and said, "That was the coolest thing ever, getting that kite to move in time with the music." He blinked and said, "That was the first time I ever felt like singing that song out in public. Not to mention with those particular words."

The girl said, "It was really good flying. Have you been practicing long?" Renee was doing her best to keep from laughing. At this point, Civil was done. He angled down into the wind and aimed for a spot just in front of them.

Renee swore to herself and yelled, "I've lost control! Everybody back up, he's going to-" She turned away at the last instant. There was a loud thud, followed by a shower of sand. When the humans had stopped coughing and could see again, Renee turned back to the pegasus that was standing there. "Was that really necessary?"

"Yes," he smirked, glaring at her. "It was."

His ire was completely drowned out by the adults running up to him and fawning over the very REAL pegasus standing in front of them. "I knew it!" the guy yelled. "I told her you were real and she said no self-respecting pegasus would ever lower himself to acting like a kite just to get cheap thrills." The man grinned. "I was right, some would!" He held out his hand, "I'm Gary. This is my sister Liz."

Civil was at a loss for words on how to respond to that, except now there was a human woman mere inches from him, desperation on her face. He smiled grudgingly and held out his hoof, which both humans curled up their hands into fists to bump with. He blinked at the correct response to a pony greeting.

Liz could barely talk. "Mister Pegasus....can I....I mean, would you...is it alright to....!" Her arms twitched.

Spying his sister throwing her hands at him to give the girl permission, he hung his head low and said, "Oh, fine just watch-" He was glomped by an over-enthusiastic fangirl, much too over-enthusiastic to be woman-handling a pony like this. "The wings! Watch the wings!" he got out. She let up some, apologizing while still glomping him.

He managed to poke his muzzle out of her hair to ask Gary, "Soo...enh....I take it you like ponies."

The young man grinned, "Yes sir! We're here for the convention. Technically it's in Baltimore. This is just a visit to the beach before all that chaos happens." The girl finally let up and took a step back.

"Yeah," she said. "Ever since that portal opened, there's been a huge revival of the show. They even had a few pony guests, even some partially quasi-main famous ones." A thought suddenly struck her. "Oh hay! Wait, I used that right, hay? By the way, what is your name? Are you famous?"

He controlled his breathing. They mean well, be nice, he thought to himself. Renee walked over and placed a hand on his head, comforting him. He smiled at her and addressed Liz, "I'm Civil Patrol. This is Renee."

The girl blushed out of embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to say you were a nopony. I just thought, if we knew about you already..."

He snorted and muttered under his breath, "Nope, no clop about me, I checked-" Renee lightly kicked him in the foreleg. He readjusted his stance to cover.

Liz asked "Huh?" not quite catching that.

Her brother cut in, "Oh wait! Are you going to the convention too?"

He violently shook his head, "Oh Tartarus no!" The hurt look on their faces made him feel bad. Holding up a foreleg, he said, "Wait it's not like I don't want to go...I just don't want all that attention, with all those humans-"

Renee cleared her throat.

He sighed and nodded, saying, "Just too many people."

The guy glanced around at the sky, frowning, "Sounds like you don't want to go..." he paused, looking down at the kite lines and wagon, "and you do like attention."

Civil started shaking out his wings. He knew a challenge when he heard one.

Renee picked up on Civil actions right away, so she stepped in front to redirect.

"The flying bit was my bad. See, he's my brother and I wanted to do something with him that he loves. I can't fly, so flying a pony was the next best thing. Right?"

The girl giggled, "That is the cutest thing I've ever heard! And he's your brother, wow! Wish MY brother would grow wings and fly for me." She glanced Gary.

The man grumbled and rolled his eyes, "Yeah, I already told you, if I were going to be a pony, I want to be a unicorn. Magic power, TK, teleporting!?! That's so much better than flying, AND I can put a flying spell on myself. Bam, problem solved."

"Yeah, that's not how it works, Kochese," Civil began, rustling his wings, but Renee headed him off, wrapping an arm around his neck.

"Guys, I'd love to stay and chat pony...stuff all day long, but this guy is hot, sweaty, and has sand all in his fur. We're going to head in now to wash up and get breakfast. But seriously, that's really awesome about you two going to the convention. Spread around more of that harmony energy stuff-"

"Friendship magic," the two humans and Civil said in unison.

"THAT! Spread that around, and it was good meeting you!"

They waved and started walking away. The man turned to his sister and said, "Just hope nobody dies this year."

Civil felt a sliver of ice ease its way through him. He shrugged off his sister and took a few steps forward, getting tangled in the lines. Prancing a few times to unsuccessfully disentangle them, he simply shook his head and flapped his wings to hover. "Hey wait up! What was that about dying?"

The two human siblings turned around, brows furrowed. The girl replied, "Uh, just that, in the past someone has been killed near the conventions, at least the last few. We think the last couple of victims actually attended them, so we were a bit nervous about going this year. I've met a lot of attendees so far, so I hope it wasn't someone I had met. I would feel so horrible, you know?...that they died, and I did not."

Her brother chuckled and nudged her with an elbow, "Oh come on, who thinks like that? Baltimore is a dangerous city. They have more murders there than any other city in the country, and around a convention? Those muggers are practically lining up to knock over teenagers and college kids before they unload their cash in the dealer's room."

Statistical analysis and motives would have been of mild interest to Civil, if he had not been hovering there replaying in his mind what the girl had said, over and over. 'They died, and I did not.'

After a minute, he realized he was staring at them, hovering, with guide lines hanging from his leather cuffed wrists. "I...uh, I thought..." Initially the comment about people dying caught his attention. Then, that other comment. He glanced back at his sister. She wore a serious expression and nodded slightly. He turned back to them. "I met someone who had lost a relative at one of those conventions."

The girl covered her mouth, horrified. The guy looked a little humbled. "Shit, I didn't know, sorry. I mean, we heard you guys had some bad losses here and over there, if the rumors are true. Just that, you know..." He shrugged, glancing at his sister, then back at Civil and Renee. "I guess we've gotten used to it over here on Earth, higher population densities, so higher mortality rates." He lowered his voice, eyes flicking to the side. "She saw one of the victims before they covered her up. That one had attended the convention we were at, two years ago. We know because she saw shiny gold shoes and pastel hair colors, right?"

"I liked her hair." She shuddered. Civil watched them, listening, thinking.

The guy shrugged, looking apologetic. "Was a cosplayer, playing my sister's favorite pony."

"Bestest pony," she murmured.

Civil remained in the air, trying to fathom why people were so horrible to each other, enough to take their lives. There was a certain innocence inherent in Equestria. True, bad things happened, but Harmony made those things bearable. This world seemed to not have that.

Noticing their pegasus audience was zoning out, they silently waved goodbye. Renee approached and quietly exchanged phone numbers with them. Didn't hurt to have pony fans in this cruel world, she mentioned, or something euphemistic. They thanked her, waved again to Civil and headed off down the beach. Renee slowly walked over to her brother and reached up to start taking off the leather cuffs. He blinked and looked down, noticed what she was doing, and lowered himself to the sand so she didn't have to keep her arms raised...or his giblets staring her in the face for that matter.

She collected the headsets, put them all in the wagon and covered it all with the blanket so any kicked up sand wouldn't get on the gear. All the while she hummed the 'let's go fly a kite' tune to herself, occasionally repeating the 'new' lyrics, too.

Civil sat there watching her until she was done. At length, he said, "I guess I shouldn't have gotten mad at him, or weirded out on them. Ignorance is bliss when you don't know all that much about Equestria, all the Harmony and good feelings. Even after the mess Discord made, we had cleaned up a fair bit to make things...better. When you've gotten used to the shit that goes on here...I can't blame him for that."

She looked up from the wagon, "Huh? Oh that. Meh," she shrugged. "Didn't seem very harmonious to let you two get into a pissing match over who has the bigger magic, right?" He tapped his chin with a hoof, staring at her. She smiled and picked up the handle to the wagon. "We just won't go near Baltimore, for any conventions, kay?" She nodded her head to the condo, "Shall we?"

With the recent song and her usual mischief, he was reminded of Mary Poppins. "You're tricky, you know that?"

Renee grinned and offered one arm out to her side. He obliged and ducked under it so she could rest her hand on the back of his neck as they walked. It was a much more pleasant trip back to the condo than it was to the beach earlier.

***

An hour later, Civil heard a loud keening wail from down the hallway. He jumped up from his lying position in the middle of the living room floor. Both his parents who were sitting on the couch near him jumped up as well.

Renee came running down the hall to where it opened up to the dining area and kitchen, a towel wrapped around her, and nothing else. "It happened! It happened!"

Daniel held up his hands and said, "Woh, hold up dear! What happened!? Are you okay!?!"

She nodded and said hurriedly, "I was taking a shower and didn't think anything of it because we still have like a week and then some to Christmas, but then I decided to put lotion on my skin and I noticed it!"

That was when Civil got a really bad feeling. He looked up quickly at his mother near him. She wore a similar look of dread, matching that bad feeling inside him. He looked back at his sister. "Renee...are you certain you have...I mean, sometimes they don't look like-"

"Like a vibrant green colored tattoo with a very distinct picture, or maybe even a picture of a pony holding something, or two somethings?!"

"Huh," he replied, sitting back. "That is very distinct." So it happened, he thought to himself. She is one of us.

Daniel looked to Karen cautiously. He had always kept his emotions bottled up, except on rare occasions when his temper boiled over or he felt very strongly about something. This, he wasn't sure what to feel. He had thought he would be ready. "What were the chances? I figured that-"

"That only one would be a pony?" Karen glanced at him, then at her two children, trying to remain calm. Afterall, this was a possibility they all had discussed. "Well, we did calculate the chances. It's not THAT impossible, just, highly improbable." She sighed. "Wish we had this kind of luck with lotto."

Renee wasn't even listening to them. She was dancing around in her towel, like she had hit the lotto.

"Okay okay, so you are going to be a pony." Civil stepped over to her and held out a hoof, "Join the mile high club! Or the mud club. Or the egghead club. You could be an earth pony or unicorn."

She laughed loudly at that, "Yeah whatever. I don't care, this is so cool! Oh my god, this thing is vibrant!" She was inspecting her naked side, twisting away from them while lifting the towel. To be modest, he supposed, rolling his eyes.

"Uh huh. yawn. So, anypony we might know?" He frowned to himself, then asked while looking back at their parents, "Has anypony caught me calling her anything else besides 'Renee'?"

A confused father shook his head, and a mother resigned to putting up with whatever the Fates threw at them shook hers.

"Hm, weird. Okay." Civil waited expectantly. Renee kept moving around, pulling her towel aside, cooing at her hips, which basically left her the only audience. "Oi, Renee, knock it off, show us already."

She looked up, face blushing slightly, "I'm not exposing my butt to you!"

Civil threw up his hooves and replied, "It's called flank, and in pony culture...oh for fu-" He stopped, recognizing his emotions were starting to rise. Calm, poise, bearing. When he finished the Royal Guard calming technique, he said, "Fine, just describe what you have so we can start searching online for your name." He wandered over to his spot on the floor and picked up the phone he had dropped there.

"Well," she mused, tilting her head at the mark, "Do you know any ponies with a Statue of Liberty mark?"

The pegasus had been through many things, including an explosive decompression at high altitude once and a few emergency landings, all in the Air Force. Not to mention a few wars on two worlds. All of that together was a breeze of perfumed air in his face compared to this.

He uttered, ".....no....."

"Oh. Oh well, I guess we can look it up then-"

"No!" exclaimed Civil. "Impossible, it can't be!" He looked at her covered hips, horrified at what she had just said.

His sister frowned at him. Their parents started to get alarmed. Karen said, "Civil, what's wrong?"

Renee also chimed in, "Alright big scary brother. Starting to frighten your sis here. You know who I am, right?"

"No...not my sis." He closed his eyes, then opened them and marched forward. He brushed away the hand she was using to keep the towel down rather roughly and lifted the towel just enough to only see the mark and not the rest of her womanly parts. His shocked demeanor kept her from fighting him off. There, right on her hip was the unmistakable image of a light green toga draped mare, a crown on her head, a tablet in one hoof, and a torch in the other. She was reared on her hind legs, as if rising up to bear the torch for all to see. And he saw.

And what he saw made no sense. "You..." He looked up at her. "You are not my sis."

Frowning, she quipped, "Knock it off Jason. Do you know it or not?"

He stepped back, bottom lip quivering. "I DO know that mark. But, she's..." He looked to his parents, "...she's supposed to be dead!"

Karen leaned forward, ever the voice of reason, "Dear, just tell us who it is, please! Why would you think she is dead?"

He turned back to Renee and said in a quiet voice, "Your name is Civil Liberty." His throat threatened to constrict on him as he forced the next few words out. "You...are my mother."

"Alright! Now I get to boss you around!" Renee thought this might be some kind of pony ritual and played along.

"But you've always been a bit bossy," Karen replied, moving up behind Civil. She sensed there was more to this.

"Yah, but now it's official. Who's yo momma?" Seeing the look of horror and confusion on his face, she was starting to figure out he might be telling the truth. If that was the case... "Omygod! All the things I can say now! Clean your room! Do your chores....huh...Momma's gonna make it all better-" She wiggled her eyebrows.

He vomited up breakfast, Renee dancing back just in time to miss it all. Daniel swore and went to the kitchen to grab some paper towels while Karen knelt down to hold the pegasus, seeing he was on the verge of collapse.

"Renee that's enough! You are just making this worse!" Karen yelled at her.

"Oh mom, I was just having some fun..." Finally seeing that none of her jokes were fixing the horrible state Civil was in, she said, "Oh come on, Civil, it can't be that bad, can it?" Her mother caught her gaze.

"You were doing it at his expense. Think about how he feels. He hasn't seen her since he was a child. While in his world, right Jason? Civil?" Karen winced, getting his name wrong again. Daniel came back and gave a few towels to her to help clean up Cvil while he got to work on the carpet. She held him, rocking back and forth soothingly. "We talked a few times about it. She had left when he was a teenager. Can you imagine what it's like to grow up without a mother, Renee?"

"You don't understand," Civil said in a daze. "She's supposed to be dead!"

"...bummer. but I'm not, see?" Renee smiled, spinning around just fast enough for the towel to lift RIGHT when her hip was facing them, somehow not revealing anything else.

Karen had stopped rocking and was looking down at Civil.

"Wait." Daniel paused in the cleaning and looked at the pegasus. "That's right, you told us she had left. Is this the thing that was causing a rift in your other family? That she was really dead? Why didn't you tell us?"

Civil swallowed, the bile taste still in his mouth. "I thought she left, but later I came home early from flight school and I overheard my sire and grandsire talking. They were discussing some failed project the Science Corps had worked on, that my father should let her go, like for all intents and purposes she was dead to the world."

He looked between the three of them. "They were debating about whether or not they should come out with the truth, but decided for MY benefit, to keep telling everypony that she had left, that she was still alive somewhere." He felt anger, old anger, well up in him. "Do you know what that is like in pony society, to be stigmatized as the herd whose matriarch left!? They had been putting out that lie for years! FOR ME!"

Seeing his family wince at his yelling, he said in a quieter voice, "After that, I hated them for not just lying to me, but lying about her!" At this point he had no anger in him, only anguish. Not of the derision and rudeness he got from other young colts, but the remembrance of his missing mother. He broke down into sobbing, reliving the pain. "That whole time growing up, it was like she had run out on us or something. Then when I overheard the truth, I wanted to confront them, set things straight, or make them apologize, for her...but I was too angry."

He scowled, remembering his rage. The sobbing stopped, if momentarily. Taking a deep breath, he continued. "I repeated the lie for them. First because nopony would believe me otherwise. Second...second I thought that if the lie went on long enough and the truth did come out, it would be revenge to say I had never known. I was stupid then."

He gritted his teeth. "Anyway, I moved out the next day, quit the flight school I was commuting to. Found different odd jobs. One day, a subordinate of Shining Armor's unit noticed me and put in a good word. I had meant to return home and make them own up to it finally, screw the revenge, but, that damn curse shit...damn it all I would have apologized right then and there had I known what would happen next! Then with the fillies...I thought...if I could save those fillies, I could pretend it was her, you know?" He chuckled darkly, thinking himself an idiot. "Like some fairy tale come true."

His family stood there, stunned at what he was revealing. Daniel knew something had always been there, waiting to bubble over. Karen also had the patience to see it through too, in her own way. For Renee, this was drama even she had never encountered before, mainly because it was in her face, not to mention on her body.

"It was the weirdest thing too," Civil continued, oddly calm. "They approached me, the two young unicorns crying, and I thought of my mother. I never told anypony that part, ever." He wiped his nose, clearing his throat. "But then you know the rest. I was born a human, changed back to pony, went back through to Equestria. I was surprised to see them on the other side of the portal, sire Civil Justice and grandsire Civil Court, both tough as carved marble, but well, after the speeches at the portal by the princess and our great captain, of course they would fight. Royal Guards through and through, you know." He paused, a half smile on his muzzle, remembering the three of them standing there, eyeing each other. No words, just purpose. Then his face darkened.

"Civil Court and Civil Justice died before I could speak to them about it." He raised his head, feeling so different about them now than when he was younger and angry. He blinked, reliving the memory. "We barely nodded to each other on the other side. Combat drills from our past kicked in. We grouped together as a makeshift flight unit, picked up weapons, and like three insane valkyries we threw ourselves at those monsters. We were in a vee formation, me at the center, flanked by my herd. I lived..." His throat clenched up, the words Liz had said earlier thundering in his head. When he could finally say something again, he croaked out, "They died!" He collapsed to the floor, shuddering and sobbing. This was a thing he had never truly worked out.

Karen wrapped her arms around him, half-picking him up to hold the upper half of his body against her, all the while giving Renee a stare of warning.

For her part she walked over to them slowly and knelt down, "Woh...hey. Sorry about the momma jokes. I can't walk on eggshells until you tell me where they are, right?"

"..." He kept his head against Karen's stomach, but he was quieting down.

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she smiled, "Give momma a hug?"

He winced and Karen hugged him tighter, "Don't you ever stop!?" she accused her.

"I'm sorry I couldn't resist!" She chuckled. Sitting down on the floor, she propped her head on her hands, elbows on her knees. "The upside is she's back. Your mom. I'm back." Renee shook her head, blinking. "I just can't wrap my head around that. Anyway, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry."

Civil opened an eye to look up at her, "You don't look sorry."

"I'm not," she muttered, looking away wistfully. "You're pretty good at reading me. Dammit." A thought struck her and she sat up, frowning. "I don't get it. How come none of us heard you call me...Liberty? or Mom? No subconscious slip-ups?"

Her brother...son(?) wiped his eyes and sat up, smiling gratefully at his human mother. That was a question still bothering him, despite getting sidetracked by the whole 'your mother is alive and well AND she is your sister' shit. Looking off to the side, he thought about it. All the interactions, the fighting, the name calling. None of it carried a hint as to her true identity. Ever. Wait, how did Renee even know about precognizant pony tells?

"I looked it up online, dolt."

Mouth agape, he barely squawked out, "You can read minds too!?!"

Ever so gently she leaned forward, stretched out a single hand, and rapped him on the top of the head, a bit painfully, too. "No, dummy! You talk out loud when you think a lot. Remember?" Oh yeah. That.

Shaking off the last vestiges of his breakdown, he tested his legs. Still a tad shaky. He shrugged and sat down again, then regarded Renee. "You're the one that has to remember, remember?" She stuck her tongue at him. He sat there, thinking. "Okay. There IS one surefire way to figure this out."

"Recite the curse?"

"Recite the curse."

"No."

"....what!?" He blinked and shook his head, standing. "That alone will...you know-" he shook his hooves at her briefly before putting all fours on the floor again,"-drudge up the memories, tell you what happened near the end, how you got here, what you were doing, who you were with-"

"No!" Renee got back up, openly glaring at Civil. "I don't do curses. No more wicken. No fairie garbage." She paused. "I like fairies, nevermind that." She pointed a finger at him, "But no curses."

Sitting back on his haunches, Civil crossed his forelegs in frustration. "Oh come on, you have to have had SOME kind of clue about this? No nightmares, nothing? Didn't you even read the words they have printed online, you know, 'just to test it out'?" That was a thing. Some pony-friendly websites had the curse on full display, a sort of litmus test for the curious. Caution, Do Not Ride This Attraction Alone, was the warning at the top.

A shadow passed over her eyes. Subtle, a hair's width of time before it was gone, but it WAS there briefly. And they both knew it. Civil uncrossed his forelegs and asked, "Renee, please. Talk to me about it. We need to know...." The guilt dug its way into his heart when he thought how selfish this request really was, but he pressed on. "I need to know."

Renee stood there for a minute, observing her mother and Civil. Glancing at her father, he was throwing away the used paper towels and stood at the sink washing his hands. She always went to him for approval. He nodded, "Go ahead dear, we're all here for you."

Taking a seat at the table, she shuddered and rubbed the sides of her head. "I don't know what you expect me to say. I don't get any of these vivid movie scenes of another world or colorful ponies running around." She paused for a second, then stared directly at Civil. "I HAVE had some repeating dreams all my life, ever since I could remember them once I woke up. But there's nothing in them that helps. I go to sleep, find myself in complete darkness. I can't move, I can't breath. Just when I think I am finally going to find peace, I'm in pain." She pulls her legs up into her chair and wraps her arms around them, rocking back and forth. "So much pain. I see red. My entire existence is a color. Red. And there is a pounding sound, boom boom. Boom boom. Boom boom."

Karen said, "Renee why didn't you ever tell us?"

"Mom, I was a teenager then. You and I didn't exactly get along."

"You were willful, then. And..."

"I'm still willful."

"Yes..." she lingered. Karen tilted her head in frustration, but she bit her tongue, lest she say something else. Instead, she replied, "Yes, you still are. I tried to follow the same advice my father gave me when my mother and I would argue. He said to stop confronting her, don't give her a fight. I have been trying that with you for a long time now. Started letting you live how you wanted."

"And that's when we started getting along!" Renee smiled now that her mother finally understood her.

"I still don't approve of a lot of your choices." Or not.

Throwing her arms up in exasperation, her daughtere muttered, "I take it back then."

The other three in the room could only sit there and stare between the two, Civil mostly at Renee. Ever since it was a possibility for Renee, Civil had told his parents what one should expect when a pony was about to change. The lead up to the twenty-fifth birthday, the mark, the nightmares that 'should' have Discord front and center, and then the eventual physiological, not to mention psychological, changes.

Here was the mark, and yes, some odd dream, but she had been having that dream all her life? And still the old Renee he always knew. This made absolutely no sense.

Civil blinked, finally hearing the last of those thoughts leave his mouth as words. He addressed Renee, "Sorry. I did it again."

She waved at him, momentarily leaning forward against the table so she would stop rocking. "You're just trying to help." Blinking away tears in her eyes, mostly tears of frustration, she took a deep breath and finally decided to ask the one thing that was REALLY bothering her, the thought that was bouncing around in her head the instant she noticed the mark on her skin.

"Okay, mother. Father. Just one itsy bitsy teensy weensy lil question. How come I am changing now...when my birthday isn't for at least a week and a half?"

What? Civil sat up, thoughts of his old herd fleeing from his mind. With all that was going on, and the possibility of seeing his mother again, he missed the fact that it wasn't even her birthday yet.

The looks on his parents' faces were quite revealing. A complete lack of surprise.

"...daddy?" Renee asked plaintively. The sound spurred Civil on as his anger rose.

"You knew!?!" Civil exclaimed at them.

"Son," Daniel began, "...we suspected." He held up his hand at the fuming looks from both their children, as it were.

"What do you mean you 'suspected'?!" Civil exclaimed. "Don't you know the birthdate of your own daughter?" Civil stared at them accusingly, turning to look at Karen. If he was expecting guilt or some other kind of emotion that would allow him to see this as something other than betrayal, he was wrong.

She only showed tears in her eyes, tears of loss as she exchanged looks with her husband.

Since his wife wasn't now, nor was she ever in a position to talk about this, Daniel explained, "No. Not precisely." He walked over to Civil and Karen, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. He turned to regard Renee. "When we got you, the records were incomplete. As you know, we were stationed in Germany when Civil was born, as Jason. Three years after that, there was a fire off base at the orphanage nearby. They were looking for families to take in several babies. The nuns were going door to door looking for sponsors. With it being so soon after the miscarriage, we made a decision."

"Woh, wait," Renee exclaimed softly, crossing her arms. In defiance, or for protection, Civil couldn't tell which. "Miscarriage? Fire? Somebody speak normal for a change."

He looked down at their mother. "Karen, I'll explain. You've suffered enough." He glanced down the hall to the master bedroom.

Getting up with the dignity one could muster after sitting on a twenty-five year old secret and finally having it blow up in their faces, she caressed Civil's head one last time and walked away. She lingered a moment next to Renee, and they found each staring into each other's eyes. Karen whispered, "I never saw you as anything else but my daughter. You still are." Dropping her gaze she walked into the hall and the bedroom. Daniel motioned them to the balcony.

Once outside, Renee settled with leaning against the railing, their view overlooking the beach and ocean waves. The sun was still up, though it was more like 5 pm now. Daniel pulled up a chair next to her and sat. Civil stood up against the bannister as well, but was careful to make sure one of the hanging towels on the railing blocked the view. Don't need to brandish his genitals to the world.

"Okay dad," Renee began. "Let's start with why you guys never told me I was adopted. Yeah as a kid, it could mess me up psychologically, but for twenty five years?!"

He felt he had to defend the one father he had left, so Civil cut in on the other side, "Hey Renee, for what it's worth, the human race got to adopt you for twenty five years."

Cold stare. "You know, since...the curse and all...?" he continued.

"I'll crack more mom jokes, you twit," she groused. Civil slowly looked away. Yah that rescue mission ended quick.

"Honey, he's trying to help." Daniel put a hand on her elbow. "Look at it from his point of view."

"His point of view. HIS?!? Every time I turn around, something fucked up is going on with this family." She meant to shake his hand off, but it was so half-hearted, she only managed to move a little closer to him, so he chose to hug her...which she accepted.

Civil asked in a hurt tone, "Me being a pony is fucked up?"

"Grrr, no that's not what I meant!" After opening her mouth to give him an incredulous stare, she shook her head. Renee propped her elbows on the railing, holding her head. "I'm getting a headache from all this."

"Then say something nice for once," Civil said darkly. "And keep in mind I've lost quite a few family members in the last couple of lifetimes." Equestrian members, now ANOTHER sibling they just found out about, on top of their brother in high school. Could one get used to being in two cursed families?

"Hmph," she responded. "If this Liberty gig is legit...we both have, right?" She glanced sideways at him, giving a sort of quirky smile.

He wanted to stay mad, but he knew her smile was working, so he looked away again to hide his. "Dammit, I hate when you win arguments, you know that?"

Grinning, she answered, "Yah, but I love it."

"You're twisted. You need a head doctor."

Daniel interjects, "In any case, I still have you two. I don't care who or what you are. We discussed that, remember?"

"Yes daddy," she answered.

"Yes sir."

Daniel let the calming sounds of the waves crashing in the distance reset the mood. Once he felt enough minutes had passed, he stated, "Your mother and I tried to conceive another baby, to grow up with Civil, Jason at the time," he glanced to his son. "The pregnancy was going well, though she was predicted to give birth well past Christmas. One night...I would say roughly around this time, a week or two before Christmas, she experienced severe pains. We rushed her to the hospital...and they gave us the news." He swallowed, obviously reliving that horrible night.

He looked up at his two children and smiled, "Several weeks later, with your mother still recovering, it was like a miracle. A German nun knocked on our door and described how a fire had swept through the local neighborhood, burned the orphanage to the ground. A lot of the buildings were made of wood back then. Quite a few people had died, too. But here they had these babies, given up by various parents for different reasons before the fire claimed their home. How could we not offer ours, we figured. It was still soon after our ordeal. I guess we were so ready for another child, we agreed to visit the temporary building they were housed in." His eyes glimmered when he looked up at Renee.

"And there you were, in the bassinet, smiling. You were smiling, after a couple weeks old, they said. When we asked for your birthdate and records, the nuns told us all the records had gone up with the building. Everything was kept on paper then, so naturally they didn't know, except you were born sometime in December. So we chose Christmas...the Christmas miracle, we called you. We couldn't live with simply guessing on a day that would have no significance since we could not prove it. We'd know it was false. This way...we could hope it was right. When you were old enough we wanted to tell you...no, I guess we never felt you were old enough to understand. Every year it got harder to say anything. Eventually we just put it in God's hands."

She started to bristle up, but he patted her arm, "I know, you were probably old enough by the age of four. You always did handle things with a stiff upper lip, if also with a tad of silliness tossed in. We were the ones that were not ready, your mother and I. We wanted to keep the Christmas miracle from fading away, I guess...." He drifted off, finally realizing something. He raised an eyebrow and added, "I suppose today is your birthday, dear." He smiled belatedly, "Happy birthday."

She wasn't exactly happy, but she wanted an answer, and that one was from the heart. She gave him a slight squeeze on his arm.

"Now what?" Civil asked sullenly.

Renee snorted, "Seriously? Like, the changes, and the figuring out the memories, and all the other stuff about ponies, that's what!"

And just like that, she bounced back. He wanted more of an answer, a plan of attack. It wasn't even happening to him...but then again, wasn't it? He squeezed his eyes shut, not having the energy to explain how he felt. Having a sister turning into his mother, having found out his mother was alive, even. How about having found out she 'technically' wasn't his sister in the first place? And yet, adoption was a perfectly valid form of modifying a family, or herd back in Equestria. It happened. Not often but it did. He just felt so overwhelmed by all this. Felt it, and must have looked it too.

"Dad," Renee said quietly, "if you don't mind, I'm taking myself and that emotional wreck over there out to the bar. Wanna join us? It IS my birthday!........and.....I promised said emotional wreck some shrimp."

Civil lowered his chin to the banister and mumbled, "I can't wait for you to remember what it's like to act like my mother." If she heard it, she gave no indication.

Daniel shook his head. "I would love to, but I need to attend to your mother. We were prepared to deal with you becoming a pony. Not...reopen old wounds. Not so soon for either."

Civil dropped down onto all fours and walked back into the residence. Daniel watched him head to the hallway that would lead past the master bedroom and to the front door, but Civil didn't even glance inside as he walked past. Daniel looked up, "Be easy on him. I can't imagine what it's like being either of you right now, but if something were to happen to Karen and I..." He wanted to say more, but honestly didn't know what.

Renee frowned. She hated thinking about death, even future death, but she nodded and wandered inside to get the rental car keys and her purse.

Daniel waited a good while to make sure they were gone before he made his way into the bedroom where Karen was sitting on the bed. Not crying, yet not doing much else, just sitting there. Daniel sat next to her and wrapped his arms around her in a hug. She leaned into him.

"Am I a terrible mother? Is this God trying to tell me something?"

"Absolutely not!" Daniel pulled his head back to look at her. "You are a wonderful mother, the best one they could have been lucky enough to have. And God knows that. Or he should."

"But with Jason changing, now her...and Renee finding out about her adoption. Oh Daniel, after the miscarriage, all I wanted was for her to live a normal life!" Her voice was starting to pitch up. "Even after...after we lost..."

He hugged her tighter, "Shhh, honey, we got through that. We got through the miscarriage before that, and we'll get through this now."

She shook her head slowly, "I can't lose any more, Daniel, I just can't! We've already lost two, and now our other two are from another world. Are we being punished?"

"I like to think of it as being tested. He does work in mysterious ways, right?"

Giving one last shuddering sigh, she nodded reluctantly, "Yes, He does. It hurts so much, though. I'm not sure I can take much more."

"We're in this together. I made you that promise, sickness and health at the altar."

She wiped her face with her hands and smiled weakly, "Thankyou, Dan. I have to wonder. Will Jason... will Civil work with her? She hasn't exactly been easy to deal with, from all the picking she's done all these years. Did we raise them both well enough to endure all this? To treat each other decently?"

Daniel held her at arm's length to smile warmly at her. "We did as best a job we could. You know that. So does God. I think they will do just fine, you'll see."

"Where are they now, still on the porch?"

"No. Renee...dammit that's going to be tough to get used to. Liberty, she took him to that Mariner's Deck place, the bar with the shrimp he likes."

Karen chuckled softly, he did like shrimp. "Oh, good. I'm glad they are finally getting along...."

***

"You ordered a strawberry daiquiri! You're such a girl!"

Civil hunkered down over his drink and growled, "Shut up! I'm just not into beer."

She laughed in his face, "You were never into beers! Why did you even demand them in the first place! You always drink these foofoo drinks."

"Leave me alone, they taste good."

"Sissy," she chuckled.

They were sitting on stools at a bar called the Marina Deck that was built on the docks further down the island of Ocean City. It was quaint, not as sophisticated as a four or even a three-star diner, but Civil always liked the feel of the place, as in any moment Jaws would push its way up through the flooring, it was THAT on the water.

It occurred to her that she wasn't exactly 'being easy on him' as her father had advised, so she switched tracks. "Tell me about her." Renee waved for two beers and the all-you-can-eat baskets of steamed shrimp, smothered in Old Bay seasoning. She knew she owed the pegasus and she always paid her debts.

"Huh?" He paused eyeing the baskets going into the steamer, already salivating over the meal soon to be had.

"Your mother, Civil Liberty. Tell me about her." His odd look made her sigh and roll her eyes. "About me, I guess." She noticed his expression change to worry, so she shrugged. "What you can remember. I'm not having any memory flashbacks and I feel like I'm in the dark here. After looking around online, it would seem a lot of other ponies get to remember stuff. Not me."

"Oh," he responded softly, then looked down at the bar, turning inward slightly. He should have felt glad, ecstatic even. His mom was alive! And yet, the circumstances surrounding this impromptu reunion were still dragging him down. "Um, she...you would let me stay up sometimes, star gazing on the roof of the lighthouse. Made me eat my vegetables when I only wanted seafood or pastries. Worried when I would do free falls into the water from the ledge. The rocks were not always visible in the froth."

She grinned and nudged his shoulder, "Sounds like any mother. Our mother, even."

He glanced up quickly, "Renee, you were adopted-"

"Stop!" she barked out. He and several other patrons jumped. She didn't care. "Don't. You. Dare. She has been our mother, more than most mothers could ever be, and hope to claim the title to boot!" At his look of incredulity, she shook her head back and forth, staring at the ceiling. "Yeah yeah, I know we don't get along, but daughters are supposed to do that. It's a girl thing."

He took his 'foofoo' drink into both hooves and drank from it. One did not use straws in a bar if one was to retain one's stallion card. He also remembered ponies drank sweet drinks anyway, so screw everypony that was watching him. Stallion card, dammit! "If you say so," he got out between sips.

"I do," she replied curtly and took a swig of her own beer. They were silent until the shrimp baskets were placed in front of them. She delicately took the meat out of the shells while he ate them whole. It was an effort for her not to stare at how quickly he put them away. Once he had gotten his first basket down, Renee having only gotten a few shrimp down, he requested a second basket.

The bartender smiled and nodded, putting two more into the steamer. From his questioning look, she said, "We get a few flyers in now and again, it being a coastal region. You winged darlings do like seafood. The others are more into salads." He nodded his thanks. He liked her.

Remembering his sister's...mother's request, he glanced at Renee. She was concentrating on her food, going slow. It occurred to him that it might be more of her savoring the use of her fingers than the actual taste, with her impending changes to come. He asked tentatively, "If you had a son, how would you act?" She chuckled in response but didn't say anything and kept eating. "No no. Hear me out. Like, would you be you, or someone else?"

She put the empty bits of shrimp shell down and wiped her hands on a wetnap. "Now who needs the shrink?"

He frowned at her. "I'm serious. You want to know what Civil Liberty was like. Would she be the same as a mother than she would.....not a mother?"

After washing down the food with some beer, she sat back, eyeing him. "You mean events in her life shaped who she was. Events like, your birth?"

He nodded.

"Deep. I'm impressed. That implies we are subject to the whims of circumstance and not to preordained behavior. A butterfly flaps its wings in 32,000 BC and I end up not antagonizing you over whatever is your current issue of the day." He was about to retort, but caught the glint in her eye. Was he thinking too much into what his mother was to become as well as what she SHOULD be, according to his memories? He certainly had every right since she was coming up empty with any memories of herself, let alone of him as a young colt when she was still around in their past lives.

Sitting there, tilting her head slowly in thought, she shrugged. "I don't know. How would I act? I don't know, Civil. I still feel like me, you know?"

"You called me Civil."

"Don't read anything into it, no flashes of memory yet. Wait a second. What's up with your name anyway? Everyone has the name Civil. Even your mother." She flipped her hand and added, "Me. I have the name. Right?"

"It's like a family name." Two steaming baskets with spicy Old Bay shrimp were slid in front of him. He busied himself with the shrimp.

"So who gains the name, father or mother?"

"Mother passes it on to both sons and daughters. If I joined another herd, a pegasus herd, I would take the mare's name. Unless she were not a pegasus. It's complicated," he got out between shrimp. He seemed to dig deeper into the baskets, if that were possible.

Frowning, she sensed something there. "And if you are called Civil, what would I be called? We can't all be running around being called Civil."

He mouthed around a maw full of food, "Momf...or Miff's Fliberty." Food fell out as he stared at her, obviously too busy with food to have a proper conversation. He went back to eating.

"Always a pleasure to dine with you, you know that?" She pursed her lips, knowing there was something more there, but she let it go. Time enough to grill him later. She went back to rediscovering how wonderful fingers were before she was never going to see them again.

****

They came back later in the evening and each went to bed, briefly telling their parents goodnight. There were more quiet hugs between parents and children, and no further discussion as to the validity of those titles.

Renee's dreams were of frolicking ponies and fairies and all manner of creatures she had made up in her own imaginings, never something she felt was a memory.

Civil's dreams were of replayed memories he hadn't touched in a long time. Memories of his pegasus mother singing lullabies to him, greeting him when he flew back from school, talking to him about how she wished she could fly with him among the clouds and the waves, or go fishing with him like their ancestors would, to dive as hawks into the water and climb away with fish almost as heavy as they were. All these memories were of Civil Liberty, the hero of Manehattan, bedridden due to some disease for which there was no cure. And then one day she was gone while his father and grandfather told him she had left and they were to carry on the herd without her.

The day he had flown back and found her bed empty was probably the second worse day in his life. The worst day, the day that had propelled him to his haphazard career with the Guard was when he had overheard the older pegasi talking to his father, telling him about how she was dead to the world and that they needed to move on. In his dream he did not fly away. He kicked in the door and yelled, "YOU LIED TO ME!!!"

That kick made him jump out of the living room couch and onto the floor, twisted up in sheets. Breathing heavily, he stood up. A quick panic attack and check later showed that he did not, in fact, have butter smeared on him this time. Or any other material, thank Celestia. He heard Renee giggling softly at the table.

"Oh come on, like I'd pull that same trick twice. Besides, you've had enough shocks this week." She shook her head ruefully at him. He smiled weakly and gathered up the sheets to pile them next to the couch and out of the way.

His human mother was already setting up a plate of pancakes for him, several rings of whip cream on top. Despite yesterday evening's tumultuous discoveries, everyone looked refreshed and well-rested. Karen especially. He surmised her good mood might be from finally getting that weight off her shoulders, she had kept that secret for so long. His father also seemed a bit light hearted.

He would ask Renee every once in a while about odd things like, did she feel more ponyish, or he would go on about when Civil first came back, what he was like at the dinner table, feathers in the laundry, somehow. Random holes in the fence. Civil did get angry. She would roll her eyes or laugh, claiming that that was so not going to be her. She winked at Civil, probably letting him know she knew where he got it from.

When everyone was seated and were well into their meals, Karen asked Civil in a steady voice, "Dear, without dredging up any bad feelings, what should we expect over the next few days? You are our resident expert in these matters." Daniel paused in his eating and placed his fork down.

Civil swallowed what he had and politely wiped his muzzle with a napkin. "I only went through it once. I'm not sure if what happened to me is typical." He cast around, trying to remember. Looking up at Renee who was staring intently back at him, he had another thrill of excitement shoot through him. His mother was alive. She was coming back to him! He smiled, saying, "I guess we could look online at those websites. They've had enough testimonials posted to get a proper timeline."

Renee nodded, grinning. Of course she loved it. Becoming a pony. Getting all the attention. This was right up her alley. "Perfect! Right after we finish eating, since I KNOW you have to have your meal or you get grouchy." Before he could even open his mouth, she added, "Because you were that way as a human." :P

He furrowed his brow at her but let it go. Patience, he told himself. She will eventually change and remember her former self. Then all would be right in the world.

"Still no memories?" Their mother was looking down at her plate when she casually asked the question. "Should we be worried about this?"

Civil shrugged and went back to eating. "I don't think so. Most everypony's heads got messed up from the curse. We found two methods to get them back and straightened out. One was the long method, spending time with other ponies, running into acquaintances, doing pony things or pursuing hobbies you like to jog the memories, that sort of thing. The other was to have your memory reset by Sweetie Belle." He frowned slightly. "That requires a visit to Equestria, where I'm still banned from entering." He lost his appetite and merely stared at the leftover pancakes.

Renee exchanged looks with his mother. True they knew different, but each had their own opinion about what to do with that knowledge. Karen's was the voice of reason, naturally. "Perhaps we do not need her to go to that extreme. Spending time among family and friends sounds like a fabulous way to remember things, am I right?" She looked to Renee for support.

She nodded back. "I can live with that." She looked down at her plate and proceeded to devour what was left, eager to get to the internet. Civil saw this and had a renewed appetite, doing likewise. Finishing up quickly they both delivered their plates to the kitchen sink, Civil's by mouth while Renee giggled the entire time.

"Get used to it," he mumbled around his plate. "You'll be doing the same thing soon." She blew a raspberry at him. Both of them wandered back to the table and sat down, each pulling out phones to do their own searches. Since Renee had already been looking up stuff, she was hitting the popular sites. Civil's search was a bit more circumspect, having already dealt with the basics. He was still concerned over why she had no personality changes or name switches, or anything for that matter.

"It says here that Day One you lose track of time." She looked up with a curious expression. "Unless it happened while I was asleep." Glancing at her parents she muttered, "No way to know when I was born exactly, so that moment could be any part of the day." She avoided her parents' eyes because, honestly, she didn't hold any grudge against them. If anything, they could have saved her from a horrible foster experience. She kept on reading.

Civil cleared his throat, he kept reading his own searches while reciting the things he remembered. "Day Two. Hair length changes by 3pm." He glanced up, "Assuming we are looking at the beginning of a normal day-"

"Nothing normal about this shit," Renee murmured quietly while reading.

"Renee!" her mother exclaimed. When her daughter glanced up, Karen chastised, "Language. You are his mother now, too. You have to set an example."

Civil started chuckling while his sister groaned. "Oh come on, I'm not ready to be a mother!" She went back to reading her phone with a sour look.

He continued, looking up at the ceiling, "Hair color, eye color. 4pm, your walking starts to change, too." He looked down and noticed she was watching him. He held up his hoof. "We are four-legged. It doesn't happen instantly. You'll go from being uncomfortable to downright painful if you fight it. Eventually you have to learn to walk on all fours. Almost like crawling except it feels natural, AND you move around a lot quicker."

She shrugged. "Yeah, walking is fine. I can't wait to fly!" Going back to her reading, she missed the look of pain on Civil's face, but it was gone so quickly, nobody else in the room noticed. "Okay, I think I'm looking at the same timeline as you are. Let's see...mhmm, tail forms, ears...middle toe longer, nails...ew, gonna skip that part, so not into feet talk."

Civil rolled his eyes, but was only half listening. He wasn't looking at the timeline, having zipped through it early on once he was back Earthside. No, he was scanning for memory specific posts on various forums and blogs. Most of his queries turned up the usual stuff. Disorientation, flashes of mismatched past events. How they were cursed was always in the forefront. Beyond that, everypony was unique in their quest to discover themselves. He sighed, peeking up at Renee who was diligently reading.

How would she rediscover herself...when the very thing she did was ONLY in Equestria and impossible to do here?

She interrupted his troubled thoughts by sitting up and exclaiming, "SEX CHANGE!?!" Everyone in the room stared at her. Civil, in particular, got scared very quickly. Could she have...was it possible....?

Renee shrugged, "Oh well, unless your mother was hiding some big...BIG secret from the rest of you." She snorted to herself, mumbling, "...big..." to herself.

Civil rubbed his temples with his hooves, trying to stave off an oncoming migraine. His parents gave him a barrage of questions after that, Renee pointedly ignoring all of it because her reading was far more important than their questions about her genitalia. Every once in a while, just to annoy Civil, he felt, she would mutter under her breath, "...big big big..." and would grin when she spotted him getting flustered out of the corner of her eye.

Finally, Civil shook his head, holding up his hooves at his human mother, "No mom, I really don't know. We'll just have to find out. Two days from now...two days we'll know." He quieted down, thinking. In two days, he'll know where she's been all these years.

"Day Four, bam, ponification. Or pirate hooker." She looked into Civil's shocked face. "You know, whichever is more fun."

He shook his head, turning off his phone. On one of the sites that specifically dealt with helping your fellow pony regain memories here on Earth, he had left a post simply asking if there were any instances where a pony had absolutely no memories at all, not even of Discord, if one were to be so blessed in the first place. He folded his forelegs on the table and rested his head on them, looking to see if Renee's hair had changed yet.

She placed her phone down, bookmarked the page, turned it off. Giving her parents an odd look, she regarded Civil. "Not much to it, other than the memory thing."

"Mm, yeah," he replied quietly.

She clapped her hands, "Okay. We can try it. If you see me freak out, stop. Got it?"

Civil sat up, frowning, "Try.....what, sis?"

She shook her head, "Well first, let's try calling me by my new name, or old name. Hahahah, old name, like I'm some old nag!" She gave them all a 'get it?' look...but given the stares she got back, especially Civil's, she thought about what she'd just said. "Yeah, don't call me an old nag. Anyway, my name is...Liberty?"

"Civil Liberty, yes." He was still bothered because it wasn't natural at all to call Renee that. It should have been. Everywhere he read, that was a subliminal thing that happened on its own, memory mechanisms not withstanding. The egghead unicorns went into memory study far more than Civil cared to read about.

She smiled, "Right. Next, let's try the curse thingy. Like I said, if you see me freak out, we'll stop and figure out something else. Got it?"

This was the moment of truth. Civil's heart leapt at the chance for her to remember him, as they were, when things were good in Equestria. He nodded back. "I promise, and I'll only recite a few words at first. It does get easier the more you hear it in the waking world." Her returned look didn't show near the confidence he hoped he was conveying. At best he was half scared, half excited. His real mother, his pony mother was right in front of him, alive!

She pushed back from the table, yet still remained seated. "If there is any shock, I think sitting would be a good idea."

He nodded in response, "I agree."

Karen got up and sat down next to her husband in a spare seat, both keeping their opinions to themselves. She held her husband's hand. They knew this was a pony thing and were content to watch until they were needed.

Civil walked over to Renee and sat down in front of her with his phone, looking at her eye to eye. Then he tapped on it a few times. "I want to get this right, so I'll reference one of those websites dedicated to helping us with the curse." A few more link clicks and he had the page up. Glancing over the words, he felt a twinge of dread, remembering the past. He looked up. "Ready?"

She nodded quietly.

"Okay." Relaxing himself, he intoned while glancing at his phone, "For Five Score, Divided by Four-" He didn't get much further than that.

Renee turned a cadaverous white, eyes rolling up into her head and she started convulsing, falling out of her chair onto the floor. All three family members were there in an instant, trying to rouse her. That's when Daniel said three ominous words. "She's not breathing!" Quickly he put his ear to hear chest to listen. His voice broke as he sat up and put hands on her chest. "My god, her heart's stopped!" Immediately he began giving Renee compressions. He got to about thirty chest compressions before two breaths, then he listened to her mouth, then chest. Nothing. He began again. While doing that he looked up, startled to see Karen just standing there. "KAREN! Call 911!"

That shook her out of her daze and she scrambled her way into the kitchen to use the wall phone.

Civil could only sit there, his mind reeling at what he was seeing. He waited for his father to finish the second round, listen, listen, then the third round began. Swallowing to wet his dry throat, he asked, "Dad, did...did I...k...kill-"

Daniel stopped and was about to rebuke him when he realized what he had stopped doing, then continued with the CPR. In between his heavy breaths, as this was starting to wear on him, he got out, "No! Don't....don't EVER think this...huh...was your fault. That piece of work you talked about...huh...Discord. Whatever that shit's name is...huh...his fault." He paused to breathe for Renee, listened, listened, then continued, and said, "His fault..."

And so it was for the next few minutes, or an eternity as it felt to them all, waiting until the paramedics showed up. They were expeditious about it, taking up the resuscitation as a free firefighter pulled Daniel back so his compatriots could work on Renee. Daniel collapsed. He hadn't had that kind of workout in years, not since the military, at any rate. He had just enough energy to lean against the wall and prop his head up to keep eyes on his little girl.

A few curious glances were spared Civil's direction, but mostly they ignored him. Their work was his sister. He refused to believe this could be happening, that he was about to lose his mother again. And yet, there were simply no other signs or clues to suggest she was his mother, except for the cutie-mark. That still didn't make any sense. As far as he knew, Liberty's mark was unique. No generic 'background' marks or reverse coloring. Her attainment of her cutie mark was directly linked to the statue back in Equestria. How many of those ponies could be running around?

None, now. His snarky mind betrayed his heart at the worst possible time. He swore to himself, feeling ill. He overheard the paramedics talking to his human mother. The gurney had already been brought up while the initial team was still working. They weren't waiting around for a response.

"Ma'am, I hear what you are saying, but they don't code after a mental shock like that. The worst that's been reported is maybe an epilepsy attack. Nothing like this, not according to the bulletins we've been given from around the world. You are sure she hasn't eaten anything she's allergic to?" The glare he got in response made him drop that line of questioning. Noting his team was ready to move, he nodded to them and turned back to Karen. "Okay, we'll do everything we can for her." A reply, barely a whisper, and the paramedic replied, "Yes, you can ride with us. We'll tell your family where we are going."

The next couple of hours were a blur to Civil. A steady and strong hand on his shoulder, an elevator, a car. He remembered seeing water from a bridge. A hospital, large red cross signaling to all you could find help here. He hoped there was help here. Then a waiting room.

That was the worst, waiting without knowing. Or at least, not knowing what was going on with Renee.

Another family walked by and Civil glanced up, momentarily spotting a young adult in the group. Lanky, dark skin male, possibly from South America. Their eyes met briefly, and Civil uttered the words without thinking, "Mint Jamboree."

The young man blinked, and made to hang back when an older woman said, "Francisco! Darse prisa. Tu padre nos esta esperando." The man gave Civil a brief smile and hurried after his family down the hallway.

Something was wrong, Civil noted to himself. Something was very very wrong, with Renee, with the world. His mother. His PEGASUS mother, and she was dying...again.

***

Once the doctors were sure Renee wasn't going to code, Daniel and Civil were allowed to visit. There was mention that the paramedics had to provide breathing and compressions for an hour before Renee responded. Typical time was twelve minutes for most survivors. He had to look that up. Looking up normal CPR times to compare to your mother's...masochism had many facets, Civil thought to himself darkly.

Karen had never left her daughter's side. When told to leave earlier by the head nurse so they could work on her, Karen had told her, "If I have to lose another, I WILL be here when her soul moves on this time. She will NOT be alone." Their mother rarely put up a fight, but when she did....

She never left her daughter's side.

Renee was asleep in the bed when Civil saw her again. It was several hours later, early evening, when they walked into her room. Daniel made sure with the nurse that all the vitals on the screens were normal. She wasn't even on a drip of any kind. Had they not witnessed what happened earlier, nobody would have known anything was wrong with her.

Daniel leaned down to Karen who was sitting by the bed to whisper something. She shook her head, replying, "Not again, Dan. I won't leave her alone."

He was very gentle with his voice. "Honey, Civil is here with her. You need a break. The doctor said she will wake up when she is ready. But you have your health to consider, too. Let's get you refreshed, something to drink, you'll feel better, I promise."

She looked up at her husband dubiously, but eventually she nodded. She smiled at Civil. When they passed, she knelt down to hug him, and then they made their way out.

He eyed the small chair his mother was using and wandered over to the larger lounge chair which looked a heck of a lot more accomodating for his body shape.

***

He found himself in front of the god of chaos. Civil was clad in full Royal Guard pegasus war gear, like last time. He was yelling at the god for teleporting his mother to Earth and causing so much pain.

"I'll kill you!" he yelled and lunged at the draconequus.

"I think not. Fantasy land, remember?" Discord poofed into smoke and Civil hurtled through him. He reformed behind the confused pegasus, eyes glowing. Wait, that never happened before...

"So violent. A wonder you're not a weather pony. Your mother certainly wasn't." The god grinned.

"Don't you dare talk about her!"

"Why not? I know more about her than you do. That whole understanding someone best as they die, yadda yadda yadda." Discord flipped his paw back and forth as various small images of dying ponies popped up, and died.

Civil stood there stunned. "What...what are you talking about? How..." He glanced around, noting the weirdness of the place. They were in a carnival now, with zombies walking around. Human zombies. This was from the game Left Four Dead Two.

"Indeed. She was most calm about it, as though she had made peace with it long ago. Quite possibly one of the few most soul-soothing conversations I've ever had. Unlike that Flutterwaggin-what's-her-face, Mrs. Liberty understood her position and my nature. It really was rather painful sending her off...but, as you must know, she WAS dying. Better for her to eak out two and a half more decades of life in another world than to watch her die in a dark underground vault. You should mention to dear Celeste not to leave her pet projects lying around. They do...cause problems if left unchecked."

It was starting to dawn on Civil that this was not a normal dream. They were riding on a merry-go-round now. He was on a seahorse. Discord was on a painted alicorn which looked remarkably like Princess Celestia. And the creature was laughing his head off. It did come off, run around, and jumped right back up onto his neck.

The music was starting to get louder.

He wanted to yell at the creature, ask the creature about what vault, tell the creature to piss off for talking about his mother like that. Civil asked, "Is this real? Are you real or just my imagination?"

Discord morphed into a purple dragon with a yellow shirt that said 'Figment' on it. "I don't know. What does it look like to you?" Laughing louder he spread his wings, eyes blazing yellow. Right before he was about to smother Civil, a dark shadow cast itself across the landscape. Discord looked up into the sky, muttering, "Figures she would show up now." He looked back down at the cowering pegasus. "You know, you really should work on that bravery of yours. You seem to do better when you are protecting someone. How about yourself? Allow me...." Before the skies completely blackened, Discord came at Civil with that one tooth hanging out of his mouth.

***

He woke up with a start. Looking over he saw his sister/mother was still asleep, so he quietly slipped off his chair, walked over to the restroom and relieved himself. Right before he was able to hop back up onto his chair, he heard, "Wash those hooves first, mister."

"Yes mom!" he got out before he realized what just happened. He spun around to see her staring at him with a comical look. Civil made to go hug her but she winced away.

"Ew, the hooves! Wash them!" Quickly he ran back to the bathroom, swished them with soap and water and clipclopped back, then hugged Renee fiercely. She patted his head while scrunching up her nose. "Please, you're acting like something bad happened."

He lifted his head to stare at her in disbelief. "Something bad did happen! I'm sorry!"

"Sorry for what?" She sat up a little more.

All he could do was point at her and the bed. "Oh," she remarked and shrugged. "well, they said my heart stopped, so I guess you finally got your revenge for all those arguments you lost." He didn't take it too well, which meant he buried his muzzle in the sheets, sobbing. Renee groaned to herself and patted his head, "Hey, shush, I'm kidding." He cried harder. She laughed. "Omygod, relax!"

He looked back up at her, face wet from tears. "How can I relax? You almost died, for REAL died! AGAIN!" He swallowed, finally calming down in the knowledge that she was alive, here and now. "How can you even laugh at all this?"

"I have to. So do you." She smiled down at him.

"Huh?"

Her hand wiped away the wet spots on his fur and used a corner of the sheet to take care of his wet nose. "With all the stuff in this world, any world, you have two choices. Laugh, or cry. And crying is not much fun, so I prefer to laugh."

Civil stood up straighter and swallowed, looking at her in awe. "That's....that is something my mother would have said, back in Equestria. I mean, she didn't, but she would have."

Renee positively beamed at him. "See? Things are looking up already." He smiled gratefully at her and sat back.

"You almost remind me of a certain pink pony."

She rolled her eyes at him, "I'm not THAT crazy."

He hugged her again, this time without all the Niagara Falls going on.

"Soooo, what does my cutie mark mean?"

"Huh?" He looked up at her. Of course, subject change for the awkward moment, coming right up!. "Oh, um, it means it has something to do with your special talent."

"Duh, knucklehead. I MEAN, what does IT mean, the statue thing? It's a ponified Statue of Liberty. Does it mean I'm a beacon for all freedom loving creatures? Does it mean I'll be stuck as an immigration social worker? You must have some idea, you're my son, right?"

He held his head low. "Please, I'm still processing that." He looked up. "Truth?"

"Yeah!"

"You never told me."

"WHAT?!?"

"You said you got it the moment you saved Manehattan. They built the statue to honor you initially. Then they scrubbed all historical records of the details of the incident. Even your name, so now only our family members and Princess Celestia know."

She sat there, mulling it over. He swallowed and went on, correcting what he had said, "So now only the princess...you...and I know. At least about the statue. What happened, only you and she know that, but you never told me. Or anypony else."

"Oh come on," she lightly nudged him with a hand, "I didn't tell you how a huge statue got made in my image? That doesn't sound like me."

"You said you were sworn to secrecy. Safety and well being of Equestria, and that it was such an honor that you would take that secret to the grave, while flaunting the awesomeness of being immortalized in green metal." He frowned. He didn't remember his mother flaunting a whole lot when he was young...except when it came to cutie-mark discussions and related exploration lessons. "You would dance and pose, showing off your mark," he said ruefully. It was the only time he ever see her so energetic in the past. It warmed him inside to think back on those times.

"...okay that sounds like me."

Silence.

"Wait," she said. "Our, our pony family is just you and me?"

He nodded.

She grew alarmed, "There's no one else? Oh Civil, I'm so sorry for everything I've-"

"Renee, sorry, Mo..." He sighed. "Mom, don't. It's not your fault, or mine or anypony else's." He rubbed her arm with a hoof gently. "Maybe Discord's. But he got his. We just weather it, like pegasi always do."

She nodded. "Pegasi. pegasi? I'm going to be a pegasi?!" Happy again. That's the Renee he knew.

"Pegasus, and yes."

"I'll get to fly?!? Omygod!" Now she was clapping her hands like a giddy school filly.

He gave her a pained look. He muttered, "Maybe."

"Woh woh, wait. What do you mean, maybe? I'm getting wings, right? Why wouldn't I get to fly?"

He looked away, not wanting to go through with this part.

"When I was young, you were sick. You walked around slowly, and most times you didn't have the strength to hold you wings up high and tight, they hung. They hung low. Usually you stayed in bed, but at the top of our lighthouse near the giant windows so you could watch the skies, and watch me flying through the waves or playing on the beach. You never told me what it was you were sick with. I think you were in pain all the time."

"Ew that sucks. I don't feel any pain right now." She moved around and wiggled, then shook her head. "You don't suppose that shit comes back with the change, do you?"

"I don't know. Discord was a sick fuck. He'd curse somepony right before they were about to keel over just to double the suffering when the poor pony found out they were about to die."

"We can always hope for the best, right?"

"No matter the thunderstorm or horrible night, sun always comes back out to make it right."

She snorted, "Gee, that's corny as shit. Where'd that come from?"

He eyed her warily, "You always told me that, growing up."

She glanced away wistfully, "Huh, suppose I Gotta remember that one." She snorted again, "Still sounds like shit."

"I'm hoping you remember a lot more," he said quietly.

Shrugging, she replied, "Nothing yet, Spanky. Sorry."

"You've NEVER called me spanky!"

"Gimme a break, I'm trying out stuff, see what clicks."

He blew the bangs out of his eyes in exasperation. "Gee, lemme guess. Memory trigger techniques, Psych 101?"

"201, intermediate studies I. Psychology."

He groaned. "Just stay out of MY head."

"No guarantees." She smiled sweetly.

He sighed.

Reaching up to her own hair, which was now starting to show a metallic red sheen to it, she frowned. "I was hoping to try straight hair someday. It's getting curlier now."

There was no look of disappointment on Civil's face, but one of recognition and warm love. "It looks beautiful. It will look even more beautiful later on against your fur." She fixed him with an unamused look.

"Okay, oh future son of mine. What kind of fur am I supposed to get?" Her tone was not too thrilled. He had to tread lightly here.

"Um...mint green?"

"Fuck. I hate green." So much for 'lightly'. Then she glared, "Wait wait wait. Even I know that the Statue of Liberty was not originally green. The salt water turned it that color. How could ponies make a statue that just happens to be my fur color?!"

He shrugged. "Uh, it's the Equestria, stupid?"

She glowered at his twist on James Carville's famous campaign quote.

She paused in her thoughts Did he just call me stu-?

"And your eyes will be brilliant emerald green!" he added quickly, then groaned inwardly. Please don't dwell on the eyes, not the eyes.

She hissed softly. "Doesn't get any better, does it? None of my clothes can be altered to even compliment that color scheme...and...as far as the eyes...." She slowed down and chewed the inside of her cheek. A smile crept onto her face. "Don't you tend to fancy girls with green eyes-"

"I'm not having THIS conversation with YOU. Here. Ever." He stepped backwards quickly to the door. "I'm going to go see if they can release you early-" He ducked out before he ended the sentence, far sooner before she could respond.

Renee laid her head back and closed her eyes, whispering, "Yah, I got your number, munch."

***

Given the unheard of reaction Renee had to hearing the curse, naturally the hospital staff wanted her to stay the night, mainly as a precaution. With vital signs showing strong on the monitors and a list of the very specific changes Renee would go through during the course of the night and the next morning, Karen finally relented her watch over her daughter and allowed Daniel to take them both back to the condo. It had taken Civil convincing her that he would stay with his pre-pony mother and would call them if anything out of the ordinary was to happen. Karen did not find the notion 'ordinary' all that humorous, though her two children were chuckling it up.

Civil was there when her hair changed to a brilliant coppery red, which Renee found most appealing, despite her earlier whining. She lamented her fingers starting to fuse together, nails thickening, though Civil once again was quick to assure her there were plenty of products to take the place of nail polish, such as enamels and glitter to make her hooves shine. Really, her having somepony alongside her was tons better than when he had gone it alone. He started to tell her about that part when she reminded him she'd already heard his story.

But, she said she didn't mind him telling it again, especially since it related very well to her current situation. He knew she requested it just as much for him as for her, so he obliged. Later that night he curled up in the lounge chair after making sure it was as close to her as possible without interfering with the occasional nurse visit. Karen had promised Renee would not be alone if...he put that out of his head. He would uphold that promise.

The morning found him waking up to some really good smells. Pancakes, sausage, orange juice. He was pleasantly surprised to see he had a tray sitting in front of him on a dolly, same as Renee. Liberty. He checked himself, actively trying to think the name into his head for recognition purposes. It just didn't seem to be clicking, an oddity that was bugging him. Looking over at her while she devoured her meal, he noticed she was having trouble using utensils since her fingers were starting to fuse. The sheets at the end of the bed must have come up during the night (she was an active sleeper, always pulling up the sheets). He could see very familiar hooves, as well as the fur that was starting to show above them. Those same hooves he had crawled around and seen early in his foalhood.

"Hooves!"

She started choking on her food and pounded her own chest with a wrist, eyes tearing up. He hopped up on to the bed and used a wingtip to bring the glass of juice over to her. She had trouble grabbing it with both hands but eventually got it to her mouth to swallow the remnants of her mouthful.

When she could finally speak, she gasped, "Dammit, Civil what the hell! YES, I have HOOVES. For fuck's sakes!"

He squeezed his eyes shut. "Fuck, I yelled that out loud. Sorry, sorry." He made to leap down off the bed, yet he paused, looking back at her. The hair, the eyes, even the face was starting to change a little. "Incredible, you really are starting to look like her."

She grinned, finished up with the juice and clumsily put it back on her tray. "Yeah, well I'm not feeling it. How the hell did you do that with your wing? I want to do that too." She blinked a few times, frowning. Then she smiled sweetly. "Teach me!"

He sighed and sat down on the bed, nodding. "Anything you want to learn, I will try to teach you." He glanced around, saying, "I'm hoping they release you soon. Grabbing stuff is one thing. When your body structure starts making two-legged walking impractical, I'd prefer to be back at the condo. The carpeted floor there is a lot more forgiving than these tiled hallways."

She saw how serious and thoughtful he was of this, so she avoided saying anything snarky. A press of the button got a nurse to give them the good news, that once she felt like getting up, they were good to go. A press of a few cell phone buttons got their parents to arrive in the rental out front not long after. Per policy the hospital made sure the changing human/pony was wheeled out the front door in a wheelchair. They didn't need pony lawsuits thrown at them during what should be a normal change. Renee/Liberty still grumbled the whole way, naturally.

Once back at the condo, that was when it really sunk in, her changing. Everyone, and pony, helped her from the car to the elevator as she wobbled on hooves instead of feet. She kept licking her teeth, feeling them slowly turn herbivore instead of omnivore. She would sniff the air and ask about fresh flowers, or ask for someone to grab some of those dune grasses outside, despite the signs saying it was a revitalization project and it was against the law to step inside those fenced areas.

Civil assured his parents she was merely craving pony foods. They had grains, breads, and a few other things a bonafide pegasus could eat, so setting up a couple of snack plates for her in the dining room area wasn't so difficult. He did tease her a little, regaling the savory delight of eating hayburgers and hayfries back home, much to her grumbling stomach. She pointed a hoof at him accusingly, "Just remember, you owe me all of that, just for telling me about it. No stringing me up in the sky for food. I have standards"

He rolled his eyes, laughing, "Oh please, what's good for the goose isn't good for the gander?"

She nodded her head once, laughing back, "Damn straight!" They were getting along. They were laughing together. They were behaving like family.

Karen's eyes were moist, not from sadness, but joy in seeing them this way. She looked to her husband and saw him sitting in the living room with the tv on. He was smiling back at her as he blinked away his own tears. If they thought it was a bad thing for Renee to become a pony at any time, that sentiment was washed away now. Civil needed this, and in a very real way, perhaps Renee needed this too.

Later in the afternoon, there was less laughing, and more groans of discomfort and pain as Civil and Renee tried to walk up and down the hallway, Renee shifting from two to all fours, then back to see which felt better.

"Liberty, dammit," Civil growled to himself. His sister/mother raised her brow.

"Did I do something wrong?" She flexed her shoulder blades. Yeah, those wings were starting to come through now. She didn't feel like looking back there until they were properly formed. Images of raw chicken wings at the grocery store kept assaulting her brain, especially after Civil had described their early look.

He shook his head. "No, sorry. Just me. Keep using the wrong name. It just doesn't seem to want to stick."

She stood back up. "Well, I can tell you my body just doesn't want to stick to all fours. This halfway shit isn't working. We can try when I'm fully changed. Tomorrow, right?"

He stared up at her, lowing his wing that was supporting her as she used the hallway wall to lean on. "Your name? You are supposed to be my mother and I can't for the life of me use your name?"

She smirked down at him and shrugged, "I meant walking." She dropped the smirk and eyed him, "Wanna start calling me 'mom' now, or wait until I finally look like your mom?"

He couldn't tell if she was being serious or if she was fucking with him. Knowing the Renee side of her, she could pull off both with style. "I'm going to opt for the 'finally look like my mom' one."

She nodded, "Good answer. This shit's killing my pelvis anyway." Looking down at her her hands, she noticed they were almost completely cloven now. "Alas, poor fingers, I knew them well."

Civil groaned and started walking, "You know, if you are going to make bad quote references, at least get the quote right. There is no 'I knew him well' line. It was just 'Alas, poor Yorick, I knew him." He waited to see if she needed help, but she made it a point to wall-walk her way to the dining area.

"Yah piss off, they're my fingers. I knew them WELL." He snorted and kept on walking to the living room.

"I don't wanna know what you did with those fingers," he muttered, bleaching his mind of bad thoughts. Bad pony, bad pony.

His human mother smiled thinly at them and stated, "And then they were back at it again."

"Oh moooom," Renee groaned melodramatically. She flopped into a chair at the table. "If you were having this happen to you, you'd demand some allowances, too."

"Hmm, then it's a good thing I am past my prime."

"Hey hey, you are not past your prime, dear wife. I oughta know." Delivered as only a proud husband like Daniel could.

Both pegasus son and pseudo-pegasus daughter groaned, "Nooo!" The parents smiled, relishing the rare occasion they got to dig at their children.

Civil settled down on the couch, his sleeping spot as of late. Karen eventually got up and sat down next to her husband on the couch. Renee puttered around in the kitchen looking for cereal and eventually had a combination of junk food, cereal, a glass of milk, and a few roses Civil had grabbed from a florist down the street earlier in the day. Dinner had already been served and he had explained to everyone that her appetite was taking on one more suitable for those of the flying race variety, so it was with very very little worry that Karen looked on as she watched her daughter completely eviscerate what would have been a young lady's diet.

The evening wound on, getting dark outside, the waves rhythmically crashing on the beach in soft shushes of white noise. They were all together. Civil periodically glanced at Renee to check on her. It was part loyal Guard, part loyal brother...part loyal son. This was what it felt like to be together with loved ones, to be a family again.

To be a herd, again.

***

Civil jumped up from a deep sleep. He heard a loud keening wail from down the hallway, only this time it was vastly higher in pitch. Hm, she must really like what she sees, he thought to himself. He stretched his wings and looked out the window of the sliding glass doors surrounding the living room, noting the sun was barely starting to peek over the ocean horizon. He yawned and mumbled thickly, "Yeesh, Renee, pipe down, you're a pony, not a siren." Swallowing to get some wetness into his otherwise dry mouth, he started plodding to the hallway. His parents were still asleep. Strike that. They were just waking up as he walked past their room on the way to the spare. He said, "I got this, pony stuff," waving a wing at them as he went by their doorway.

He poked his head around the doorframe into the spare room just as the wailing stopped. "Oi, you are waking up the whole building, what gives? You knew this...was...going to happen...?" He stopped, because Renee's bed was unoccupied. The sheets were pulled up from the edges and mostly wadded up in the middle with a few bulky lumps, but no matronly mare. The pillow had a large divot in it as if someone had slept there recently, but that was it. No pony at all.

Taking a few steps in, he called out, "Renee?" He paused and said, "Liberty...?" Ears working in different directions, he said in a lower, trembling voice, "....mother....?"

One of the bulky lumps moved. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, but he steeled himself. Maybe she had torn into the mattress and buried herself in it with just her head sticking up, like in the Godfather movie with that horse's head, maybe she had become an alicorn, grown a horn, magicked herself to phase into the bed, maybe she was dying, maybe she was-

He grabbed the sheets with his teeth and yanked back, ripping them off the bed.

A small ball of green fur tumbled out, tiny wings and legs splayed out to keep from rolling all the way off the edge. Coppery red hair from mane and tail spaghettied everywhere, making it seem like someone took Medusa's head, airbrushed it up with eye-popping greens and reds, and then decided to roll it across the bed.

When it came to a stop, part of it tilted up to stare at Civil with two brilliant emerald green eyes. Eyes he knew most of his foalhood.

There was a foal staring up at him. A newborn foal with his mother's eyes. And his mother's fur color. And his mother's mane color. AND HIS MOTHER'S TAIL COLOR!?!?! They stared at each other in terror. The small thing opened its mouth and repeated that same high pitched keening wail he'd heard only a minute or two ago.

Without thinking, he picked up the quivering crying mass of newborn pony, turned it slightly to bear witness to the tiny cutie-mark of the famous statue back in Manehattan, and he was truly frightened. Not of babies or foals...or baby foals. Not of his sister being gone. Well, she wasn't, sort of.

She was right here, in this small package, not much larger than a cantaloupe. He wasn't even frightened that this was not the mother he remembered. The logical part of him reasoned that perhaps this had something to do with why she had been gone for so long.

As a seasoned Guard, he had learned to look beyond what was in front of him, to take minor details that others would dismiss out of hoof, put them together to form a picture that he could decipher and defuse before it blew up in his captain's face (Shining Armor's face more specifically), or...Celestia forbid...Princess Celestia herself. No, he was frightened of what all this meant. He KNEW Civil Liberty was supposed to be an adult. He KNEW nopony else had this marking, on account he was always told it was unique. What he didn't know, was if Discord's curse was now reverting ponies to their infant state.

'Your Memories Removed. Your Body Confused.'

Twenty-five years was a long time for a god of chaos to do bad stuff unchecked.

His ears picked up the fact that his parents were standing behind him, stunned. Frankly he wasn't sure how much more they could take, with his kind. With 'pony stuff'. He had to trust them, had to look to them for help on this one. Even if they kicked him and this...whatever it was, out of their household, he needed them right now. His mind shifted from panic to logic to panic to logic. He was never good with babies as a human or pony. Now it felt like he was being squeezed by both worlds. The essence of the curse, no matter when or if it wore off.

Not sure how to explain this, or what to say at all, he opened his mouth and uttered, "...mom...?" He didn't know which one he was calling out to this time.

He didn't know if it even mattered anymore.

Ever Drop a Baby? Civil Did! Shhhhh!

Author's Note

Sorry, the posting date got messed up somehow which was not showing up for readers. I reposted just in case so readers don't skip this chapter to find out stuff in the next one. Kind of like watching Revenge of the Sith before watching Empire Strikes Back.

And for the record, Star Wars should be watched in the order they were MADE.

Ever Drop a Baby? Civil Did! Shhhhh!

Each pony's curse was unique. Unique when, unique where, unique how...but the eyes, those yellow and red eyes of a vengeful god were always there. Civil looked into Liberty's eyes, his fear starting to fade away. Had it been Discord's eyes looking back...he'd have chucked this thing out the window.

No. It was her. He knew those loving mother's eyes anywhere. He shifted his hooves, trying not to drop her. Where were you all those years, he thought. Where have you been? They told me you had left, left us...me. All these years you were missing, how could it not be true? And then I catch them talking about you like you were dead!

NOW YOU ARE A BABY!?!

Blood pulsed through his head as tempestuous thoughts raged, mind all a turmoil. He tried to remember any stories, any similarities or mention of other ponies resulting in this, this phenomenon.

Nothing.

The miniscule creature continued wailing and wiggling. She was so tiny. The few infant foals he had seen from a distance might have been slightly larger than this, their dam bringing them outside after a week or two of indoor obsessive care. This was a newborn, mere hours out of a womb! Or at least, he was quasi-sure of it.

Civil held the tiny foal out at foreleg's length from him, barely able to keep the squirming thing in his hooves. He pleaded, "Mom?"

The foal stared at him, quieting. He turned his head to Karen. "Mom!"

Startled, his human mother exclaimed, "What?!" The foal began crying again.

"I...I don't know what to do. I don't understand this! Any of this!"

The foal possibly sensed his rising fear and reflected that same emotion, crying louder. Karen, ever the trooper when it came to babies, stepped forward with fierce determination and took her from his hooves. She may not have known much about pony babies, but she recognized distress in human ones and she was seeing that right now.

"Oh," she soothed, gently taking in the foal by using her arms like a cocoon, "she must be scared, confused, hungry-"

"She's not supposed to be a foal, Mom!"

"She is alive!" Karen said sharply in a glare at him. She winced when she felt the foal jump in her arms and saw Civil's ears laid back. Repeating in a gentler tone while forcing a relaxed facial expression, she said soothingly, "She is alive. I will take it." Then she looked down, all worry and negativity passing out of her. "Plus, all this cuteness doesn't hurt, either."

The little pegasus reacted instantly to Karen's tone, quieting down. She even started cooing softly.

"That's all she needs, just a soft voice, a soft touch..."

"...and soft food...or do they eat adult food right off the bat, son?" Daniel said from behind, all but ignored until now.

"N-no dad...they eat foal food...we....shit we don't have any of that here! Just my adult stuff!"

"Shhhhh, easy...easy does it," Karen said, rocking the foal slightly. "Let's stay calm." She glanced at Civil. "Ponies are similar to horses in dietary needs, correct?"

"Yes ma'am."

She turned slightly to her husband, "Dan, you know where to go? What to get?"

He nodded solemnly, already pulling out his phone. "Feed store, I'll look it up. She will need milk replacer, since she has no nursing mares available. In the meantime, she can go with warm milk." At his wife's dubious look, he quirked his brow, "I would say thin the two percent with warm water, fifty-fifty. Too much fat content might upset her stomach. Need to add pectin to it. Civil, you'll need to get that from the store across the street. I'll text you the proportions to use in the mix." He spent a few seconds on his phone while Karen cuddled the foal to herself. "Damn...nearest place is thirty minutes away. Hour round trip, not including traffic."

"You don't need anymore speeding tickets. Take your time. Just enough to last us until we head back. Civil can buy some diapers, bottles, nipples, extra bags for milk storage while he is out, the small ones mind you. If she has an accident, we can make do with old pillow cases for now."

Civil replied, "Swaddling works as well. A terry cloth towel or small blankets. I will check for some of those at the store."

She nodded, "Good job, dears." Karen eyed them like an old general complimenting her planning staff and sending off the troops. "Don't take long at the stores. No extra shopping, either of you."

"Yes ma'am," they said in unison. Daniel snorted at his son, who was now smiling slightly. He nodded to Karen and headed out.

Civil wished he could be more upbeat like his human father.

"Mom...how...?"

"Babies are babies. I don't care what planet or dimension they're from." She headed back down the hallway to the living room, confident her boys knew their business.

After placing his saddlebags on his back and securing his smartphone to his foreleg strap, he muzzled open the sliding glass door to the bedroom, stepped out onto the wraparound patio and hopped into the air. Screw elevators.

The store was across the street, slightly larger than a convenience store but not huge Walmart size. He immediately found everything he needed, including the pectin that was located in the baking aisle. He hesitated as he read the small package. Used for jams and jellies. He texted his father to see if he was positive on this. Daniel texted back, 'For the dextrose content. Trust me.' He shrugged and tossed it into the basket he had gripped between his teeth.

Civil trotted down the aisle to the register. The lady there grinned, delighted to see a pegasus in front of her. "Why hello there! And congratulations on your new baby pony, sir!" Her nametag read Sharlene on it.

He wrinkled his mouth and nudged the basket with his forehead. "She's not my foal, I sort of inherited her."

"Oh," Sharlene exclaimed softly, then grinned sheepishly and started scanning the items. "Then congratulations on your adopted daughter."

"She's my mother, not my daughter," he replied testily, then squinted his eyes shut as the human woman paused, her mouth opening but having a hard time to say something. He sighed and opened his eyes. "Look, it's a long story. I thought she left, then died, then she came back through my sister's body. Then she turned into a newborn foal and I don't know how to take care of foals, so my human mother is helping out in that department."

Sharlene clenched her jaw and continued scanning his items like a robot, not sure of what to say lest she offend this special customer. True there had been memos passed around to make sure employees did not offend or discriminate against this new race of beings walking (flying) among them, yet it was real hard when so many questions plagued her, not to mention the several more this pegasus just now raised with his weird story.

Several people who had lined up behind him to purchase their goods were staring at him. That was when after all the baby items were scanned, Sharlene picked up the pectin packets, then glanced at the baby products, a bewildered expression crossing her face.

Civil pursed his lips and said in a low voice, "If you think all that is messed up, wait until you find out what I do with jams and jellies-"

She tossed the packets into the bags and rapidly pushed some buttons to finalize the sale. A challenging glare back at the customers behind him showed they were more interested in those garbage magazines on the nearby racks, or gum, lip balms...anything but the pegasus. Standing up on his hind legs to lean against the register, he held his foreleg close to the credit card scanner. Both electronic devices beeped, informing him that the sale went through on his phone stored credit card. He grabbed the plastic bags in his mouth and trotted out, head held high.

Back at the apartment, the foal was still crying, but Karen had already set two pots of water on the stove to boil. She replaced the towel she had originally wrapped around the foal with one that Civil had purchased, then attended to the stovetop. Once the bubbles were coming up, per his human mother's directions, he placed bottles and nipples in one pot.

Five minutes later, Karen lifted the items out with a pair of tongs and placed them on a paper towel. She ended up doing a lot of the work with one hand while trying to hold and soothe the newborn in the other. Once she mixed cold milk with boiling water from the other pot into a bottle, along with a small amount of pectin, she was finally able to sit on the living room couch and bring the bottle to the fussy foal.

Initially Liberty fought by moving her mouth around and crying louder, but that only gave the experienced mother opportunity to shove the rubber nipple in at the right moment. A minute later, there was peace on earth in the form of a feeding baby pony. Civil finally collapsed next to them on the couch. He wasn't aware he'd been holding in so much tension until the crying stopped.

Karen smiled down at the small bundle. "There, see? That's not so bad." The foal mewled back at her, but those brilliant emerald eyes were closed. It wasn't very long before Karen gently pulled the bottle out. Using a bit of the blanket swaddling, she wiped the foal's mouth off lightly. Liberty's eyes remained closed. Karen smiled and looked at Civil. "I'm thinking she is going to nap for a little while, with all the commotion she was making earlier. You look tired, too. Go ahead and take a nap. I think we are fine for now." He made to say something, but she shook her head. "It doesn't matter how, or why. She is still with us, right?"

He nodded and settled down, closing his eyes. He knew he must have slept longer, but it only felt like he'd blinked his eyes shut before someone was nudging him awake. He looked up and it was his father. Glancing around slowly, he didn't see either of his mothers. Daniel noticed and whispered, "They are both lying down in the bedroom. We're good on food for now." Civil nodded and stretched a little.

Then Daniel said, "Son, come take a walk with me."

That was not a suggestion. Civil groaned quietly, already anticipating a talk he did not want to have. They made their way down to the ground level in silence, the elevator music of Royksopp's Remind Me setting the perfect mood of awkwardness. Once there, they both walked out of the garage to the street and followed the short sidewalk to the sand.

"Alright, Civil," his father said in a heavy voice, "Tell me that isn't some illegitimate child you had out of wedlock up there, that she's been floating around until she magically found you again, in your sister, in MY daughter." Daniel was very traditional. VERY traditional when it came to these kinds of things.

Just the accusation alone was like a slap of cold water across his face. Automatically skipping the adoption argument as nothing good would have come from that, he did what first came to mind. He defended her.

Pointing his wing up, he yelled, "There is no other cutie-mark like that! That's my mom in there, not some bastard filly!" He felt real heat in his own words. Civil couldn't recall when, if ever, he had yelled at the man. Daniel's eyebrows certainly rose a bit. He of course knew his son had NEVER done that before.

Immediately, loud crying floated down from above. A sliding screen door slammed open and Karen stuck her head over the railing, three floors up. She growled down vehemently, "You know the whole block can hear you two, including us! If you want to talk stupid, do it away from here!" With that, she went back inside, the screen door sliding shut with another metallic bang.

Daniel nibbled on his inner cheek and eyed Civil, "She might have a point." He lightened up a little and nodded to the beach. The pegasus wanted to say something more, but he saw the olive branch for what it was and just plodded on. After a minute of the two walking towards the water, he felt his father's hand settle on the back of his neck, kneading his muscles. Civil leaned into it slightly.

"I'm sorry if that came across wrong. I guess...I guess we can chalk it up to more pony weirdness."

Civil looked up at him quickly. "Pony weirdness? Not everything weird has to be pony related, dad. Come on."

He shrugged back. "Well you have to admit, even you didn't see this coming and you are our resident expert in these matters. I'm not blaming you. Just...it being Renee...."

"...Just trying to understand the weirdness." Civil had to give him that one, the man wasn't the only one weirded out about today's events.

Daniel nodded slightly, "Something like that. But you are not weird. And neither is...Liberty. I suppose that's her name now, too." They walked for a while, soaking in the sun and sounds and smells of the ocean. The compacted wet sand was nice under Civil's hooves. "Alright, so we have a baby in the family. Again. Lord knows we've had enough practice so far. What's one more. Hopefully she's a good sleeper on airplanes."

Civil's eyes slowly drifted down to his hooves. He got real interested in the sand. "About that. There might be a problem."

***

"Look, I understand you guys want to be cautious, but can't you make an exception? We're talking First Class tickets here." Karen glared at Daniel, though he did his best to ignore her look. "And it will be close to a week. That's the normal wait for a human baby." He listened some more. "Yah. Yah, I get it." He hit the disconnect on his phone, breathing slowly to reduce his blood pressure.

"I take it the answer is no?" Karen asked softly.

" 'No. We cannot accept the liability, especially with pony babies. Tickets are non-refundable.' " He frowned and added, "Somebody didn't purchase insurance for the tickets, so we can't reschedule without taking a massive hit in the wallet." He tried not to look at that somebody, but it was hard not to stare at the cute bundle of emotional mess. She was being fussy, her stomach adjusting to the new milk replacer Karen was attempting to feed her.

"Look, if we have to miss the flight, then we miss it. My brother will put us up at his place, no questions asked. I will just tell my boss I can't teach for the next few weeks," Karen reasoned.

Daniel wasn't keen on missing work either. "I suppose I can call the office, burn some more vacation time. They won't like it, but there's no helping it. We'd have to wait past the holidays, not to mention the one-way tickets will be a few thousand at short notice."

"Um...there might be another way," Civil ventured. Both his parents regarded him. He smiled. "It's not unheard of for Equestrians to carry their young, in their legs or on their backs."

Karen furrowed her brow, "Four hours, you are going to carry her that long?" She shook her head slowly. Daniel didn't say anything, merely studying his son quietly.

Civil put both his hooves together, "If she were swaddled properly, I could carry her in my saddlebag. With the strap secure, it will be fine. That way neither of you are docked for missed work, you don't have to purchase new tickets and waste lots of money, and I won't piss off Uncle Joey and everyone further."

His mother sighed and shook her head, "Civil, nobody is pissed at you, and this is not your fault." Naturally she saw straight to it. She raised her voice when he tried to protest, "I don't care what you think-" She stopped herself and sighed, continuing, "I do care, but you didn't do anything wrong, so don't feel like you have to be the hero and go out of your way to fix this. OR so we can make our 'First Class' flight." She eyed Daniel with those last words. He smiled weakly, but said nothing. She gave him a half-lidded stare, asking, "You're seriously considering this, aren't you?"

He shrugged, "Well...he did say Equestrians do it all the time. I don't see the harm in it."

She looked up as though asking for divine help. "We head back up to Joey's in four days, then fly back on the 23rd." Dropping her gaze to the foal, she said evenly, "We will see how she does in the car, and how the food settles with her before considering ANY air travel."

Civil made to say something, but 'the look' from his mother quelled that notion.

***

Four days. One of those days he'd gone out to the beach. He'd visited the boardwalk, too. It wasn't the same without Renee, despite her propensity to aggravate her family. Not that she was bad, per se, Civil mused to himself. She just had a way of pushing buttons. All the buttons. The true chafe was trying to figure out whether she was doing it on accident or on purpose. He sat back on the couch, listening to the waves crashing out on the beach. Normally they would have been calming. Normally.

Karen was sitting next to Civil, feeding the foal. It was the second or third day...maybe, since she had changed fully? He was losing track of time. This was why he hardly saw upbeat parents back in Equestria when a newborn entered their herds. The feedings were frequent and round the clock. They also had to be small or she would vomit them up, so instead of three square meals it was many many tiny meals.

"I miss her too," Karen murmured. Civil looked up, brow raised. She smiled, "I know she isn't gone. In tiny doses, I definitely miss her." Then she shushed Liberty when she started squirming and fussing. "Now now, I know you are hungry, you barely ate anything a while ago. Come on, eat up." Liberty was having none of it. A thought occurred to the human woman. She got up slowly, turned to Civil and offered the foal to him, along with the bottle.

He shook his head, "No mom, I'm not quite ready for that stuff. I...I don't think I can do this-" A baby foal and bottle shoved into his forelegs put the brakes on his protests. Instantly the foal settled down and gazed up at him, those large eyes sparkling brilliant green. With his forelegs holding her, he was able to move the bottle over with his wing and gently bring it to her muzzle. Gladly she grabbed at it with her legs, having worked them out of the swaddling, and crooned as she gulped down the liquid.

His human mother stood up and nodded, adding quietly, "Thought so. Babies know their own." A shadow passed over her face for a moment, and then it was gone. Civil noticed.

"Mom, she doesn't hate you, she's a foal."

She smiled at him, "I didn't think that. Instincts are something that cannot be reasoned with. They just are." She turned away and headed to the kitchen. "Try not to use anymore plates or bowls, or if you do, wash them completely. Tomorrow we leave."

Civil hummed softly to himself. Three days had passed. Guess it had been that long. Time flies when you are kept up all night for feeding a needy thing. He glanced down. She had sucked in a good portion of the bottle but she was done now, just mouthing the nipple once in a while. He slowly slipped it out of her mouth and set the bottle aside. Liberty turned into him, nuzzling his chest fluff. He tried not to dwell on yet another 'weird' moment. The term 'weird' had crossed his mind so many times in the past week, he no longer thought it a problem when his father brought it up, though now Daniel had coined the term 'pony shit.'

Just then, Daniel came in from the front door and walked down the hallway to the kitchen. "Hey guys." He glanced at Civil sitting on the couch with the sleeping foal. "Same shit?"

Civil grinned and replied quietly, "Different pony." They both chuckled.

Karen clenched her jaw. "I wish you two wouldn't say stuff like that, it could impact her developing mind."

Daniel sighed and stepped into the kitchen to kiss his wife and place groceries on the countertop. "I'm pretty sure when her mind is developed, she will be saying worse." He began emptying the bags. The items were mostly for the trip back up to New Jersey. Cold cuts, a loaf of bread, snacks, drinks, the usual fare for travel.

"Then we shall enjoy the time we have until that happens." She turned her head to Civil, brow furrowed, "Honey, when exactly is she supposed to start walking, flying, all those things?"

Civil glanced down, then shrugged. "After two weeks they start to walk. Not long after, they begin displaying their magical skills. Figure the first two months, don't open any windows, else we might not see her again."

Karen started to laugh, then stopped when she saw the serious look on his face. "You're kidding."

He shook his head. "Let's just say I need to be there when she first lifts off. They learn to fly long before they learn to land, seldom without injury. The first time can be traumatic for them if not done right."

She closed her eyes, sighing to herself. Daniel put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed lightly. He said, "It'll be fine. With Civil around, I'm sure she won't go splat anytime soon." Karen shook him off, her sentiment obvious. He held up his hands and backed away. "I'll go pack our things. 'Leave out a change of clothes for tomorrow,' right?" He didn't stick around to receive 'the look'.

The rest of the day and evening progressed without any incident. Feeding, sleeping, changing diapers, cleaning, bath time. Dinner for the rest of them was squeezed in there somewhere. As for the diaper jobs, he hung around just long enough to get the basics down before quickly removing himself from the hazmat situation that was Liberty's...stuff. Daniel checked in one time, briefly.

Wrinkling his nose he muttered, "I'd have thought her stomach would be settled with the replacer by now."

Karen looked up and shrugged. "Civil said it would be at least two weeks until solid foods. Guess we bear this out until then." She wrapped everything up in the diaper, cleaned Liberty's bottom, puffed some powder on it and expertly put on a fresh diaper. "At least it's not explosive anymore. Baby steps, I suppose."

Daniel grinned, "If they had a Baby 500, you'd definitely be the pit chief."

She laughed and picked up the foal, who was burbling along as though nothing were out of the ordinary. "I do what I do," she replied and chucked the used diaper bundle into the trash. "We have to remember to empty the baskets in the morning." He nodded and followed her out.

A quiet night and a fresh morning with bowls of cereal found them on the road an hour later. The drive back up to New Jersey was much more pleasant and less awkward than the one down to the condo. Initially Civil had been sitting in the front, but the first half hour had Liberty crying nonstop. She didn't want a bottle, her diaper was clean. Even Karen could not comfort her, until out of desperation Civil reached back with his hoof to nudge her to shush. He wasn't going to hit her or jostle her, honest!........

The seat was facing to the rear so he didn't see her facial reaction, but he felt it. As he reached over the top, she grabbed hold of his hoof with both tiny legs and would not let go. Before he yanked his foreleg back, Karen placed a hand on him and said, "Wait, Civil. Look."

It was difficult to see at all since he was seatbelted in, so he unlatched himself and peeked over the edge of the carseat. Liberty's eyes were closed and she was smiling.

For a few minutes they held still. Soon she was breathing deeply, little snoring noises whistling through her nose. Daniel was monitoring all of this through his rearview mirror.

"Want me to pull over so you can switch places?"

Karen raised her brow at Civil questioningly. He replied, "Yeah, or my leg will fall off after an hour. I might go through the window if we wreck, too."

Daniel smirked at his son's opinion of his driving skills, but nodded and pulled into the next rest stop that came up. Liberty fussed for the four excruciating seconds he had to let go so he could get out and back in. Then all was quiet again. Karen settled into the front seat, strapped in, and they were off again. After a time she looked back and regarded the stallion quietly.

He noticed her expression and whispered, "What?"

She smiled and shook her head. "Nothing. Seems she is quite comfortable with you."

He snorted. "Yeah I know, babies know their own." His eyes dropped to the tiny form, all nestled and wrapped up like a pegasi burrito, two legs holding onto him. Liberty continued to sleep peacefully. He started to wonder if she had watched him like this back in Equestria, if he had held onto her hoof, too.

Unbeknownst to him, Karen and Daniel traded looks. Her husband tilted his head, a question on his mind that she already knew. She sighed and nodded. He couldn't help but smile a little, but he solemnly nodded back to her, to keep up appearances, of course.

When they arrived, Civil insisted on unlocking the seat and carrying it by the handle in his mouth to the house. "Gotta get used to this, right?" he mumbled around the plastic. His parents gave him his space. Karen had phoned ahead to let her brother know what to expect when they arrived.

There was some small shock that Renee had been reduced to a baby again, but the absolute cuteness more than made up for it. Joey, his wife Dorris, and Vanessa all fawned over the foal like a real baby. Liberty just soaked up all the positive emotions, burbling and making other one syllable sounds, sometimes to mind numbing repetition, or so Civil thought.

Joey made one attempt to ask Civil about what happened while he sat on the livingroom couch. A hoof held up in silence was all he needed. He smiled and ruffled the top of Civil's head, saying, "Whatever you need, sport. You have my number whenever you want to talk. Deal?" Civil smiled and nodded, then went back to staring at the others play with Liberty on the floor, a baby blanket spread out under her. Because floors are dirty, Dorris reminded him.

He rolled his eyes, not wanting to bring up the fact that he and Liberty would be walking all over dirty floors with their hooves, when they were not flying in the blue skies.

Later that night when everyone was sound asleep, he wasn't. Not for lack of trying, he really had been asleep. Until his damanably sharp hearing heard some rustling and scraping sounds. He slowly got off the couch and walked down the hall. The dim safety lights in the outlets were the only things to go by, and he didn't see anything.

He turned to leave when he heard a sniffling sound near the floor. Looking down he saw Liberty was crawling along the wall and scraping one hoof against a door. He noticed it was to the bathroom for the bottom floor they were on. Her baby blanket was halfway back to their parents' room. She must have low-crawled to here before the swaddling came apart. He sighed and scooped her up with one wing, checking her bottom with the other.

"What the Holy Hand Grenade are you doing," he muttered. No heavy mass, no warm or cold feeling from the diaper, so she hadn't wet herself. She kept mewling, stretching her hooves to the door. He wrinkled his brows in consternation. "Seriously, you want to be potty trained now?!" He grumbled to himself and pushed open the door, carrying her in. Sitting her atop the sink lip, he undid the stickers on the diaper and held her up. He looked down, noticing the hole in the toilet seat was way too big. He shrugged and looked her square in the eye. "Sorry, kid. Guess you get to make it rain." He held her out with both hooves and waited.

Her face scrunched up and she started crying. He eased her up and down a little, shushing her. "Hey, hush shhhh...come on, what do you want? You're over the target. Release!" Her legs squirmed around, twisting her lower half away from him. He blinked...and his face went red. "Really?" He deliberately turned his head away. "Okay, I'm not looking, do it already. Or I'm chucking you back into mom and dad's bed."

His words were met with the lovely sound of thin liquid dribbling into the toilet from a height of a few feet. When the dripping sound ceased, he LIGHTLY...lightly here, no shaking baby syndrome, lightly shook the last of it off, then turned back to regard her.

And saw her lower half was soaked because he'd made her hang there while peeing.

"...fuck..." he said under his breath.

The next twenty minutes of his prime sleeping time were spent cleaning her up, then putting the diaper back on. He didn't even bother trying to put her in their parents' room, but merely took Liberty with him to the couch. Once he was down on his side, he simply placed her against his chest and used the blanket and his wings to cover her. She sighed contentedly and was asleep quicker than he could yawn.

In a way, it was also comforting to him too. He never got a second yawn out before he was asleep.

***

He woke up to his aunt holding the foal in her arms, standing near the couch. He blinked and looked around, ears swiveling. The house was very quiet. A quick glance at the clock showed that it was almost noon. He sat up.

"Damn, I must have overslept. Where is everyone?"

She smiled at him, rocking the foal slowly. "Joey took your parents to the airport and Vanessa went Very Late Christmas Shopping. I stayed to make sure you had everything you needed for your trip back." Her brow quirked with obvious guilt. "And...I wanted to spend more time with this bundle of joy before she left us."

He groaned to himself and got off the couch, working his muscles to limber them up. He didn't do cute in the morning, mother/sister or otherwise. She reached over and picked up his bags with one hand, holding them out. "Your mother said she packed all the necessary bottles, as well as some blankets in case it gets cold up there."

Liberty started making her 'feed me' mewling sound. Civil raised his head, eyes closed in annoyance.

"Would you like me to feed her for you?" Dorris asked him.

"No," he waved his hoof. "I have to get used to doing it anyway." He took his bags from her and fished around inside, finding the supply of bottles and pulled one out, already prepared. Dorris waited until he was settled on the couch, then handed the foal over to him. He cradled her in his forelegs, bringing the bottle over to the needy thing with his right wing. Dorris smiled and picked up the nearby remote.

"Here, let me put the TV on for you." She clicked it on and flipped through some channels. He told her to stop when it was on the news. While he didn't care much for news channels, at least he could see if the world was burning or not. Dorris mentioned that she would be doing laundry when he was ready to leave so she could say goodbye. He nodded.

Since most of the items were either fluff or political pieces, he let it drone in the background while he concentrated on the foal in his arms. She had just finished her feeding when he overheard a report about another victim at a convention. By the time he looked up, the news anchor had moved on. He fumbled with the controller and rewound the DVR, replaying the last few minutes.

It centered around someone in the parking garage near the convention center building having been stabbed maybe not more than an hour ago. It was Baltimore. While the news video had footage of police covering up the body and not allowing cameras near, one of the initial witnesses who found the body had already given the news station a picture.

It was of a young woman lying face down between two cars. The feed jumped to other witnesses describing if they still felt safe in the city of Baltimore, if they would attend another convention there or anywhere else. He lowered the volume since no pertinent details were being released. His mind wandered.

That hair, it was colored, some of it pale purple while the rest was in shadow, at least from the angle of the picture that flashed by earlier. He rewound it again and paused it on the picture. He didn't see any strange clothing. And yet...was she another cosplayer maybe? He felt that familiar urge to do something.

But now...he glanced down briefly at the responsibility in his possession. He thought of all the times he'd stuck his nose into the affairs of other ponies, all the times said nose got snapped off for it. The reprimands, the badgering other guards would give him as he weathered the shit assignment he'd earned because a noble bitched about his meddling...even though that noble did get fined by the princess eventually, once she had stepped in. Even the term 'Don't pull a Civil if you know what's best for ya' was a thing.

He snarled to himself, "Fuck that, I've got my own problems." Liberty started whining as if on cue. He held her close, shushing her. Skipping ahead on the DVR he saw the news had gone to another item of interest, so he shut off the television. "Don't need to fix everypony else's."

Still....

He stared at the blank screen. She wasn't someone else's problem. She was someone else's daughter...wife....princess.

Sighing to himself, he felt resigned to the fact that he did have a heart. Looking down at Liberty, he said softly, "I guess I can make a few phone calls...what harm would that do?" She stared at him with those wonderful eyes. "Then I gotta get you bundle of ass pain back home." Her infantile response was to spit up. He grumbled, cleaning up the regurgitated mess off her muzzle and blanket wrap.

Once he was done, he reached over and pulled his phone over to him. "I need to contact Gary and...the girl, what's her name." He raised his head, "Renee I need your phone!" It had been so automatic to call out to her, until he realized what he'd done and looked down at the foal. She was staring back up at him, eyes wide. His voice was loud.

"Fuck," he said under his breath, "mom and dad have your phone." Another thought hit him. "Fuck, it's code locked! Damn this curse shit."

Liberty started crying. He consoled her, "Yeah yeah, keep calm, shhh shhhhh. We'll just get you fed, then zip back home. You were using a four digit motion on the lock screen. I'll just examine the glass surface, see where it is worn out the most. That should narrow down the number of codes you could have used."

Liberty was starting to quiet down as he gently rocked her.

Ding.

His shoulders slumped and he stared at his phone. Of course she would text him now. He wrote back while talking out loud, "Yeah I saw on the news. I will see what I can do."

Ding.

He texted back, muttering, "Because I am still a Royal Guard. That shit don't quit." He squinted his eyes shut, peeked at his phone while he backed out the text, thanking his lucky stars he didn't hit send and said softly while he REtexted, "I never rescinded my oath."

Liberty stared up at him with big green eyes. He noticed her look.

"What? It's true." He put his phone aside and used part of the blanket to wipe a missed spot on her cheek, thinking. He chuckled to himself. "I run away from home, still end up being a guard like my two prior herd generations." He smiled down at her and said in a doting voice, "We can't run away from everything. No we can't."

Liberty burbled back at him, smiling.

Ding.

He glanced at his phone and sighed. "Rescinded. It means to take back," he murmured as he typed. He thought about what he could do. Civil couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to this. The pen he was using to poke at the cell phone idly found its way to looking up the Baltimore Police Department number. He hit the call option. Naturally he got an automated system. Eventually he was able to get directed to the violent crimes division. It rang. And rang. And rang.

So close to Christmas, of course nobody was going to be in. Not like crime ever took a vacation-

"Hello, Sergeant Watts here, may I help you?"

He spent a half second to be stunned before he spoke, "Uh, yes, I was just calling regarding the recent death you had just outside that pony convention. I was hoping I could help out."

There was a pause before the man replied, making sounds in the background. Most likely grabbing a pen and paper. "Of course. Any help is appreciated. May I get a name and number first?"

"Um, my name is Civil Patrol." He rattled off the number to his phone.

There was a good deal of silence at the other end. Then the man asked tiredly, "You wouldn't happen to be a pony, would you, Mister Civil Patrol?"

Civil frowned, not quite liking where this was going. "I most certainly happen to be a pony. Is that a problem?"

"No, not at all. Just figured the name was a giveaway. Before you comment about my tone, we've had several ponies already call in trying to get information about the ongoing investigation and I am not authorized to divulge anything at this time. I understand the conventions have taken on a new meaning in the way of making ponies a socially accepted people on Earth and we do not feel this is a hate crime at this time."

The pegasus could only blink at the phone. When a few more seconds passed and it appeared the sergeant was not going to continue, Civil said, "I...hadn't thought of the conventions like that. But that's not why I was calling. Have your detectives thought about there being a link between other victims from past conventions? Specifically, if your victims had colored hair. I have spoken to some witnesses that independently observed two of the victims being possible cosplayers."

The man's reply was very terse, "You realize witness tampering is against the law?"

"I was not tampering with anybody! There was one little girl I met at the airport and she told me her aunt was killed. Then another pair of humans met me at the beach several days ago, and they happened to have seen another victim. I'd think you'd want to have more leads rather than intimidate your sources." He was fuming now, daring the man to say something nasty.

"...like I said, we cannot divulge anything at this time, but we will be looking into that angle." The reply was slow and calculated.

Civil sat up, putting Liberty to the side. Normally she would wail about not being held, but the changes in his voice seemed to have gotten her undivided attention and she just laid there, watching him. "I doubt you 'will' be looking into that...since it sounds like you already have. I'm right, aren't I?" While Civil might screw up in social practices now and then, he had developed a skill that he rarely acknowledged even to himself. It was the ability to pick up nuances in speech patterns, especially when someone was outright lying, or trying to hide something. He could sense that now.

"If I may ask, do YOU feel that this is in some way a hate crime? Since if what you say is true, do you feel that someone might be targeting cosplayers depicting ponies? With you being a pony, you might be able to provide a valuable perspective on the subject."

The question was subtle, something a cop would query. Like a bomb tech feeling out the wires of a ticking device. If it was an honest question, it had dire portent.

Civil cleared his throat and said, "I'm not sure. Obviously if ponies or pony friends are being targeted, that would be a hate crime. I merely called about the hair. Granted, I have to contact the human brother and sister I met earlier to compare notes with the little girl's story, but I feel like that is an important thing. As for it being racially motivated? I wouldn't think so, on account that no ponies have died near any conventions...that I know of. Have any ponies been murdered?"

After a few seconds, the man replied, "Occasionally we hear about pony abuse here and there, but no, nothing like this. I suppose that's a blessing. Good instincts, though. Like I said, I can't talk about the case...but I wouldn't mind if you came to work for us. That would give the newspapers something to piss and moan about instead of Baltimore's crime rates. And I'd wager you could offer a lot to the department. In any event, I would appreciate if you didn't go public with this conversation. I will pass this on to the detectives. I'm pretty sure I know who the little girl is you are talking about. What about that couple you met at the beach?"

"Just a brother and sister. The sister only caught a glimpse of the victim's hair at the scene before they covered her up. You guys probably know more than she does."

"Still," the man replied, "Any little bit can help. They may have seen the victim before the incident, which could help with our timeline and narrow down the possibilities of who could have done it. May have noticed something during the days leading up to the event. Never know."

Civil sighed, "Look, if I knew it would help, I would text you their information, but it's locked behind my sister's phone and she's-" he glanced down at her, all wrapped up in her baby blanket. She stared back up at him. He grimaced. "She's a bit tied up at the moment. As soon as I can get in touch with them, I'll see if they are okay with me passing on their information. That alright?"

The man sounded a little disappointed. "Yes, that's fine. Like you said, it might not lead to anything. Then again, it could be that one detail that opens it up. I do appreciate you reaching out to us, Mister Patrol. I was being serious, if you want to come work for us, you'd have my recommendation."

"Thanks, I'll think about it." Civil hung up. He spent all of one second pretending what it would be like as a cop. "Spbpt, whatever. More guard BS, on top of which, I can't drive a car or hold a gun. I'm not going to be some novelty to be paraded around in front of their PR events."

Liberty started crying softly. Civil realized she must have been sensing his negativity, so he held her. "Shhh, it's okay. It will be alright."

Once he had settled her down, he got ready to go. Step by step he checked his flight equipment, filed his flight plan, secured his belongings, secured his pegasus mother in his saddlebag...and the crying started again. Groaning, he peeled the saddlebag flap back, twisting the buckle around so he could see her inside. She stared up at him, quieting.

"Liberty, dammit, you need to chill out, okay?" He started to close up the bag again, causing her to whine. "Fine, you want to see the light? There you go." He hitched the flap back, readjusted the buckle and strap so it was angled to keep the flap pinned back. "Happy?!" She burbled back at him.

He shook his head and walked out to the garage where he found his aunt. "Aunt Dorris, I'm heading out now."

She knelt down and hugged him, then she reached into the back and patted Liberty. "You two stay safe, and stay in touch, okay?" He nodded. She opened up the main door to the driveway and stepped out, waved to her with one wing and then leapt into the air.

***

It was maybe an hour before he started hearing her fussing again. He twisted his neck around, trying to look in the bag. "Come on, I fed you like, not that long ago, can't we just put in another hour before stopping?" It had taken him a little while to really get up to altitude, plus it was a pain in the plot to adjust his flight plan and sit on a cloud somewhere. Most times, since he was in a heavily traveled corridor, he would have to land if he wanted to pause at all, which meant time wasted getting to the ground and climbing back up to cruise altitude.

She cried louder.

In a moment of irritation and selfishness, he jostled his bags by rolling his barrel to and fro. That did it, he noted, when the crying stopped. Civil cruised along for a couple of minutes in peace and quiet.

The peace and quiet started getting a little unnerving. He'd been dealing with this little pegasus for almost a week now and during that entire time, she had been making some kind of noise awake or asleep, even snoring. Now there was nothing. He glanced back to see the flap of the bag fluttering in the wind, the strap and buckle undone from the readjustments he made, the wind, and finally his jostling of Liberty. Liberty! He looked inside, a sick feeling overtaking him.

Now there was nothing.

He yanked his wings in and immediately speared downward, brain running fast flier calculations. If his speed, knots of indicated airspeed (KIAS), was in the 400's, that meant at least 40 nautical miles (NM) every 6 minutes, 6 NM every minute. With the foal not having continuous forward propulsion or having dense mass, wind resistance would lower her forward momentum. He angled down a little more, predicting her fall would be parabolic. There were not that many layers of cloud...fuck! The clouds! He started to panic more.

With her small body, if she hit any cloud, her magic would create resistance. A human would pass through it as if it were smoke, but a pegasus would hit it hard. A tiny pegasus would suffer internal injuries.

"Flyboy 12, Center. We show you descending at a very alarming speed, what's your status?"

Fuck!

He swiveled his head left and right, looking for the pink blanket wrapped thing that was his past, present, and if he didn't succeed now, soon to be non-existent future.

"Pan pan pan!" He had to shut them up so he could listen for the foal's crying. Dear Celestia let her be crying now, unlike all the other times he did not want her to be crying.

Center replied, "Do you need air or ground assistance at this time?"

"Just air...unless she hits the ground, then maybe ground."

"Say again?"

He felt bad about joking, but he needed to do something to steady his nerves and humor was a good defense mechanism. Panicking in the skies never led to anything good. "Temporarily lost some precious cargo due to...wind buffeting, retrieving it now! Will be off radio a mike."

"Copy, clearing your vicinity of air traffic above and below, keep us posted and good luck."

No sooner had the transmission ceased, he finally heard it. A teeny tiny keening wail that barely touched his ears.

Civil spotted the falling ball of distress and angled his wings, missiling toward her. Just as he was about to crash into her, he popped out his winds in a braking action to match her speed, grabbed her and rolled over while twisting his wings about to catch the wind. His intent was to slow down quickly and use his body to plow through any clouds with his inertia before he could slow down and roll back hooves down again for a safe landing. At this speed if he did try to land, he wouldn't be able to hold onto her and she could continue on INTO the cloud. In addition to all of this, he was going to try a back glide, flying upside down while buffeting his wings against the wind to slow down. Trying to do too many things was going to cost him this time. He allowed his left wing to extend quicker than the other one.

AWS, or Asymmetrical Wing Spread. On purpose, it was called awesome when used in conjunction with other moves. And it looked awesome, when done right.

Basic backstroke, or...basic backstroke. On purpose, you simply fly upside down and backstroke your way along. On purpose at slow speeds, you look stupid. Done at higher speeds, it can allow a daring pegasus to slow down, and then transition into an AWS to flip back over. That looks awesome too, when done right.

He accidentally performed an AWS maneuver and the basic backstroke at the same time, not done right. This had the result of one wing catching all the rushing air like a parachute and trying to suspend his full weight instead of evening the load between two wings. The other wing was still tucked in, waiting to be deployed correctly.

He realized too late what he just did and felt his wing joint wrench.

Growling in pain, Civil tucked both wings back in, twisted around his body, then extended them out again. He didn't feel anything now, but adrenaline was coursing through him at this point. Their speed was much more manageable as he lowered his back half, wings almost perpendicular to the wind flow. He spotted a nice fluffy cloud and angled for it. Cycling both wings with quick flaps, he ignored the stitch in his shoulder, ran his hooves in a prerun but still stumbled into the fluffy bumps of the cloud and rolled. In that last second of horror, Liberty still tore out of his grip, but she safely tumbled a few feet away on the cloud before coming to a rest under a pile of baby blanket.

Catching his breath for a solid minute, he lifted his head out of the cloud to see if she was okay. After some fumbling, her tiny legs were able to pull the blanket off the top of her head. With his heart threatening to leap up through his throat so it could make a public heart attack, he was finally able to swallow, key the mic and try to say something to Center before they went ahead and scheduled his review board to strip him of his flying certification.

"You stupid stupid stupid....asshole!!!" was the very high pitched voice that overrode his.

Civil's hoof was still on the key when she shouted that, so he yelled back, "Shut up! I'm talking to ATC-!" His eyes went to pinpricks and his hoof let up off the button while he stared at her.

"Didn't quite copy that last part, Flyboy 12" Center replied, "but it sounds like you retrieved your, uh, precious cargo...just file a report when you touch down. Your flight plan is on standby when you are ready to resume your trip."

There was silence on that cloud of two winged ponies.

"Flyboy 12, did you copy?"

He squeaked out, "...copy..."

He stared at Liberty.

"..."

She stared back.

"..."

He yelled, "You can talk!" He planted all fours in the strongest stance he could muster, lest his shaky legs drop him.

She blinked at him in awe, that same impossibly high pitch voice exclaiming, "You can walk on clouds!"

He flexed his jaw like a fish before he exclaimed back, "...you can talk!?" The rest of him was frozen in shock.

She tried it out by standing, falling over, and then realized she didn't know how to walk yet as a pony, but still pushed her tiny hooves into the cloud. "I can walk on clouds! Awesome!"

A flare of heat flashed through Civil and he yelled, "Would you shut up for one minute?!?...you...you can talk!"

" ..."

She stared at him, mouth slowly closing. He stared at her.

" ..."

This again? His eyes narrowed.

"Goo goo gaa gaa?" was her response.

"I'll drop you again, I fucking swear it!"

"Alright alright," raising her tiny forelegs while sitting back, barely keeping her balance. She smiled sheepishly, "yes I can talk."

"Mo.....mommy?"

"Hahahahaha that sounds so cute! Do it again!"

He backed up a few feet. "What? No! N-no!! Why do you still act like my sister?"

Liberty rolled her eyes. "Because I am, you dolt. Dolt colt. Heh, that was pretty good, I gotta remember that one." She went back to pushing on the cloud like a cat making biscuits.

He stomped his hoof, cloud puffing up in front of him. "Focus already! Do you remember important stuff?"

Her biscuit making slowed and she looked up, "Like....?"

He growled, "Like being my mom, for Celestia's sake!? What's wrong with you!?!"

Liberty paused and tilted her head. "No...I don't remember, and there's nothing wrong with me. Well, other than, you know." She raised a hoof to move over her small body for emphasis. "Look, seriously I'm not fooling around right now, I don't remember anything about your world...our world, about Equestria." She shook her head. "When I changed, it was just my body. Not my mind."

Sitting back, he glared at her, and with good reason. "Soooooo, all that baby stuff, it was an act." Please don't admit to it, please give me something decent to remember you by if something were to happen-

Her guilty look said it all.

"You little shit," he said accusingly, jumping up.

"What!?" She threw up her forelegs. "I liked the attention our mother was giving me. She hasn't done that in years, to be honest." Despite the smile she put on, it was almost sadlike. "It felt good."

"I can't believe it, after all that has happened to me and you turning out to be...HER...all you can think about is our human mother paying attention to you? You selfish little bitch!"

"Oh for fuck's sakes I don't have to take that from you, I-" she yelled, then blinked, "Woh, wait. Did you just call your mom a bitch? That makes you a son of a bitch!" She jumped up suddenly, spinning while saying in an Austin Powers accent, "Yah baby yah!" She promptly landed in a puff of cloud, giggling when she fell over.

He lied down and buried his head under his hooves. "Sweet Celestia. Discord turned my mother into my selfish sister, and my selfish sister into an adorable little bitch." He was out of thoughts. Glancing at his flight display strapped to his foreleg, he saw that they had dropped about 14,000 meters during this whole fiasco. He was still waiting for his heart to stop racing so he could have his obligatory heart attack.

The little filly flicked her hoof as though to snap fingers she didn't have anymore. Then she grinned and clacked her hooves together against their sides, singing, "You're a son of a bitch, you're a son of a bitch! Eat shit and live, Civil." She hopped up on all fours and started doing a jig, stumbling around on the divinely squishy cloud. "Oh I need one of these for my room, definitely!"

All Civil could do was groan. He scratched at a very irritating itch behind his ear with a hoof and looked away, not wanting to watch this circus. "And die. It's 'eat shit and die.' Get it right if you are going to be nasty to me."

"I know what I said." She poked her head under one leg, staring at him cockeyed, "Living makes the suffering last longer, dingus."

"You are so twisted, there's no way I came from you."

"Well technically I had to come before you," she stared up in the sky, pondering the multiple meanings of what she had just said...yeah not going to explain them all. Liberty tapped her hoof against her chin, "biologically speaking, that's not entirely necessary for fertilization either, these days-"

"Bah I'm not hearing this from my sister!" He covered up his forelegs over the top of his head. Dear princess, end it now!

"Mom."

"Gah!!! Just, just be quiet for a minute, I have to think." Mother was alive, check. Sister was back...wish he could UNcheck that one, but...'She is alive. I'll take it,' Karen had said. Fine, CHECK. lil bitch... Flight equipment and other items accounted for, check. Can't stay up here forever, with ATC directing traffic around them. Guess it was time to get going. He stood up.

"Some help here...new body." She was on her back now, having an even worse time trying to roll over on this malleable cloud than she was earlier in Joey's hallway. He stared at her, watching the pathetic scene and truly wanting to laugh, but he didn't have the energy for it, so he walked over, scooped her up and deposited her into the bag again. This time he secured the strap properly, though she insisted on sticking her head out. She still hated the dark, but she wasn't exactly hiding her intelligence now.

True he was still fuming about that, but he wasn't in the mood and honestly just wanted to get home. He figured their mother would do more in three minutes than he could do in an entire week of guilt tripping. He wordlessly flexed his wings, felt the moving currents of air, and stepped off the edge of the cloud into the void. As soon as the wind filled his wings, he regretted doing a Celestiadamned preflight wing check.

Civil winced and his profile jerked all over the place. Liberty didn't have to be an expert to know something was wrong. "Civil! What's happening, are you alright?"

"No!" A thin yelp escaped his mouth as he pulled to the right, letting his left wing flag a little. "I think I pulled something in that dive to catch you." He quickly made his way to the next nearest cloud. This time was a much smoother landing, legs running at the appropriate rate to take the cloud properly. Once he trotted to a stop, his body shuddered and he immediately dropped his left wing low, almost dragging it in the white effervescence. "Dammit dammit dammit," he hissed, trying to flex his wing, then hissed several worse things under his breath.

There was silence for a little while....then....

"Tell mama where it hurts," she cooed.

He whipped his head around at her, "Would you shut up with that!?!" Visibly shivering, he carefully flexed his wing and felt a sharp spike of pain where the wing met his body, along with that stitch he thought he'd noticed earlier. The adrenaline must of covered the pain then. Not so much now.

"Are you kidding? I'm going to milk this for all it's worth!" She was standing up in the saddlebag now, head held high.

"Dear Celestia would you shut up? Don't mention milk. I practically fed on my mother's...your..." He paled, "I'm gonna be sick."

"....oh shit, that's right!" The foal looked down at her lower anatomy, all mirth disappearing from her face. "Hah. Heh...well...guess this...woh." She raised her head and looked her SON in the eye when he twisted his head back around to gaze at her. "I...I mean I really want to make a joke right now...mph...nevermind, now I feel nauseous." Her head sunk a little lower, ears turning green.

He said angrily, "Don't you dare throw up in my saddlebag."

The rebuke was enough to center her. Taking a deep breath, the small foal climbed out of the bag and clambered up onto Civil's back. Not willing to drop her again, he slowly settled down onto his belly, which would make the fall short if she did slip. She didn't even notice. He asked in an annoyed voice, "What are you doing?"

Once squarely between his shoulder blades, she delicately felt around the area where Civil appeared to be favoring. "You forgot I used to volunteer at the vet's, didn't you?"

"Um, no, but I thought that was just cats and dogs. I'm neither."

"Simpleton. They had other animals." Her tiny hooves prodded and poked, keeping it halfway ticklish and halfway painful. The effect was jarring. He really didn't want think about those certain other zones...shit! He squinted his eyes shut, trying to remember stats to hoofball games he had played in the past. She bantered on, "You wouldn't believe the number of stray and domesticated birds people brought in for us to 'save.' Mostly from cat attacks. Usually they would die or the doctor would euthanize them, but they made for excellent training subjects."

She frowned slightly. "Occasionally," she continued slowly, "a large parrot or macaw would come in." She reached over to feel the other wing's joint, just for comparison. That one was definitely not in pain- oh shit! -Windy Shores takes the ball up the midfield, Civil thought furiously. She goes for a basket, blocked by Sandy Shores. Those two always played opposite teams, hitting averages .356 and .418 respectively-

He opened his eyes when her words sunk in.

"This is just a wing injury! Don't you dare suggest I have to be euth-" She smacked him on the ear. His head must have been closer to her than he thought, what with those tiny legs of hers. "Ow! What was that for!?!"

"You are panicking, stop it! I swear...sometimes you act like such a girl." Despite her scolding, he made a concerted effort to calm down. She noticed he was breathing slower and his whole body was less tense, minus the injured muscles, of course. "There, much better. What I MEANT was, I got to know wing structure fairly well. Not this big, mind you. But this works to our advantage. I can locate the problem a hell of a lot easier than those birds back then. Let's see.....how is this?"

"Tickles."

"Okay. This?"

"Seems fine."

"Alright. How about-"

"Ahh! Dammit! Don't touch that again." He nearly nipped her, but decided against it.

"Hm....shit."

His anger disappearing, he exclaimed, "What? What shit!?" She didn't answer. He eyed her dangerously, "Don't screw around with me on this! What shit?"

Sighing to herself, she tapped her tiny mouth with her tiny hoof, perched there between his wings. At length, she said quietly, "Just...try extending this wing." She lightly touched further down the wing than where the injury was. He shakily put his wing out, level to the cloud they were standing on. "Okay. Are you flexible enough with your legs to push on it, like, to simulate air pushing on it?"

"The kite thing?"

"Exactly!"

He tried it. "....seems fine."

"Okay, now slowly flex it as though you are normally flying or trying to gain altitude-"

"Eeeaaaaw! Son of a bitch, fuck!" Once the torrent of pain subsided, he looked back at her, only to notice her mouth was quivering as she attempted to hold in her laugh. "Oh for fuck's sakes, fuck off with that SOB shit, I'm in pain here!"

She covered her dainty ears. Good Lord...celestia...whatever, why was she so damn cute AND annoying at the same time!?! "Ack, you swear like a dirty pirate hooker." Lowering her hooves, she stared at the joint. It was already starting to swell a little. "Yeah well the 'shit' part of it, as you so eloquently put it...is a sprained joint."

He blanched, "I know what a sprained joint is! I've had a few accidents before I was-" He caught himself before he continued. Mouthing off to the one person trying to help him, the one PONY who had been given a raw deal in all this, was a horrible thing to do, and he felt horrible. Civil scrunched up his face and sighed, blinking away moisture in his eyes. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about all of this." He settled back down onto his stomach, letting his left wing drop to the cloud. The material gave way just enough to make it the perfect cushion.

She laid down on his back, chin on her forelegs. "You were saying 'before you were'...human? Like when you came to Earth, the first time?"

"Yes. There are memories that help me deal with all this stuff, and here I am freaking out about you when you have absolutely nothing to go on except the internet, and me. Big hero I'm turning out to be. When the time came, I didn't save my mother like I had dreamed. All those silly dreams when I was growing up without you, dreams of being there when you needed me most. I tossed you out of my saddlebag like, like some rotten fish..."

It was finally starting to affect him. The reappearance of his mother, albeit in a miniscule state. The fact that she wasn't dead, that something really weird had happened to her, the years he had spent hating his father and grandfather for what he thought were lies told him. Even the few years he believed she had left them all, which was a serious breach in pony social customs. All of it came crashing down on him like the waves his mother had him fly through in order to build up his strength, to deal with dense clouds later in life. Granted, wave crashing was an old learning technique his family bloodline had preserved throughout their generations since they his ancestors had moved to the coastline. But now, seeing all these things as those waves...he was a foal again, a foal's mind repeatedly crushed by waves of memories.

Renee felt the shuddering under her and knew this wasn't from physical pain. This was the pain of history meeting the present.

"Shhh, Civil, shush, don't be like that. It's going to be alright. I'm just helping where I can, when I can!"

He sobbed back, "How can you be so upbeat all the time? Everything you do is based on good intentions and you are never selfish, even though I keep thinking it is most of the time, and I'm always thinking you are some horrible person and mmmfff mfmf mm" Renee had scrambled atop his head and held his mouth shut with her legs wrapped around his muzzle, though she was hanging upside down now.

"Would you get a hold of yourself Jason! You are rambling!" Once he stopped trying to talk, she let go, dropping a few inches to poof into the cloud. Trying to roll over with her legs flailing was so pathetic that Civil nudged her over with his nose. She sighed and clenched her jaw, looking up at him. "Civil, I don't know how this happened or why I'm a baby and, um, your pegasus mother too, but let's get one thing clear."

He nodded, completely focused on her as she stood up on two hind legs and pressed her forehooves into his nose. "First, you will NEVER speak of that little rolling thing I just did. Got it?" He nodded, then shook his head no quickly, then kind of stayed still, eyes darting left and right to figure out what answer he was supposed to give.

She grinned and sat back. "I'll take that as an agreement. Second, there are going to be many more of these, uh, situations where this body is going to SEEM funny. It isn't! And I'm pretty sure experienced those same situations when you were small, both as a human and as a pony, so we will not be making fun of me or I, you. Right?" He nodded in response. "Naturally, because I'm sure you've sat in the tub as a young pony boy, colt? Colt, yeah, as a young colt you sat there, laughing at your own fart bubbles..." She paused, noticing his widening eyes and ear tips pinking up. "Holy shit, you did!"

She caught herself and raised a hoof when he shifted around. "Like I said, we have both done these things, so let's spare each other's dignity and work together to get through this." She took some deep breaths. That was a lot to say for a teeny tiny baby, she thought to herself. She took another deep breath.

He nodded, again, not having much to say. Or not. "Just two things-?"

She cut him off with, "And the third thing is...you can either live your life laughing or crying." She crossed her forelegs and raised one eyebrow at him. "I prefer to laugh. What about you?"

"I prefer to do both." His grinned slightly, some levity returning to him.

They stared at each other. Liberty spoke first.

"MiB...?"

"MiB."

"I walked into that."

"Yes, you did."

She flicked a hoof his way and got back up, walking/falling around him on the cloud to get back to his saddlebag and pushed up on the flap with her hooves. "Fine, whatever. You get what I mean. Anyway...are we stuck up here or can you, you know, glide down or something?" She paused while still outside the saddlebag, leaning on it with the flap sitting on her head.

"Well you already proved I can at least glide." He waited for her to climb in and situate herself. This time he buckled the flap down properly, but still had it partially open so she could peek out. He paused, staring back at those eyes. "Hold up. How do you know about gliding? And don't tell me you learned how to fly at the vet's. Are you...do you remember...being my mother?"

She pushed her head out just enough so he could see her shake her head. "No. I'm sorry. I don't have any pony memories, Civil."

He sighed. "Then how?"

"I've been watching you."

"Me?" He exclaimed, utter shock on his face. He sat down and watched her for a few seconds. "This entire time, like from the moment I flew over your head until, like, NOW??" She nodded at him. "Watching me?" She nodded again, though at this point she was starting to get irritated. How many times was he going to ask the same thing? He finally said something different. "Aside from creepy, why?"

Why. A very small question with a very big answer. No sooner had her cheeks turned rosy, she pulled her head back into the bag, only her eyes reflecting the light. She muttered, "I was envious."

"To have wings?"

"Of course, numbskull!" She got touchy when she was embarrassed. He should have known that, but kept forgetting. "Why do you think I asked you to be a kite? Yeah, okay, a very very SMALL part of it was revenge...but I wanted to experience what you had." Her voice was muffled from inside the bag. "I watched how you would take off, hover, all those things at home. I even moved over to the other side of the plane to study you." Her eyes disappeared. Civil guessed she must have been looking down. "When I found out I was...well, your mother, that I would be a pegasus..."

She poked her head out again, eyes moist, "Civil, that was the happiest day of my life. Yeah it was only a couple of days ago, but it's the truth! I wanted so badly to tell you that. Then, you got so upset, about what you grew up believing. I'm so sorry you thought I was dead." She wiped her eyes with her forelegs, and although her eyes were a little red, they were no longer soft. They were steel. "I promise to make it up to you, to remember my past, somehow. I vow to find out why I had left or why I didn't come back, or whatever happened, and why you were lied to about it." She growled, and not the cute growl of a puppy learning to fend for itself. This was the growl of a wolverine that was no bigger than your head, and yet would take your head off if you dared to place it next to her for size comparison.

"I plan to find out HOW I became this fucking little thing!" Civil fidgeted as this tiny creature forced her way halfway out of the saddlebag, raising a tiny leg to the sky. "Fuck you Discord, WHEREVER YOU ARE!!!!!"

His ears were ringing for a long while after the foal had slipped back down into the saddlebag. A momentary regret for not recording that on his phone was immediately dashed by her earlier speech of not mentioning such moments to others, not to mention that dangerous edge he heard in her voice. He realized he had underestimated this tiny thing.

It struck him that while growing up, this was the pony he relied on as his rock to lean against, his pillar whose strength he had always known. Deep down, even though most of his memories were of her wasting away in bed, he had known a strength in her, rediscovered by that one instant where she was screaming at a hopefully dead god and had no fear.

Civil saw her in a new light, now. Despite her size, her squeaky voice, hell, the damn diaper she was still wearing. Even despite her having his sister's personality, in that one moment of adorable defiance, he had witnessed the strength of Civil Liberty. This was something he had always heard about when growing up, from family and parental friends. Even from some older guards, they would mention the bravery of the savior of Manehattan, a hero in fact, but never the details.

Sure, at night his mother would tell him stories, with the names, places, and events changed to protect the innocent. The few times he ran into Celestia before he was changed into a human, she would take a moment to praise his mother, though any questions were diverted for 'historical secrecy.' At least, that was early in his Royal Guard career. Later on, Celestia seemed not to notice him as much. The new guard polish wearing off, he supposed. Certainly not post-curse when they were back in Equestria. The rebuilding of their entire society alone warranted nothing but thoughts and actions for the present and future, with only brief fondness for those recently deceased. None for those long dead.

Despite that, he felt uplifted now. He didn't see a statue standing in that harbor, holding a torch in the likeness of his mother. He saw her, a beacon of strength.

How could he have forgotten such fortitude? Well, he chided himself, dimension jumping a few times does that to a pony. He snorted to himself.

"What?" She squeaked out from under the flap.

He looked back to quintuple check she was there and the flap was secured. Two blue eyes peeked out from under the flap, waiting for his answer. He shrugged, "Was thinking about the past, about you before Discord happened. At least we both hate him. That's one thing we can agree on." Slowly he raised his wings, trying to not force the left one too much. "Ready?"

Nervously she responded, "Ready!" The bravado was gone. She must have been thinking about how she can't fly yet, with her recent fall underscoring that fact.

Reaching his head around to nuzzle into the bag, he said quietly, "I'm not going to drop you. Again. I swear it."

"I know." Liberty giggled nervously and pushed his nose out. Seeing her, as a pony, and thinking of her as not just his mother now, but as LIBERTY, gave him more comfort than he thought was possible in this situation. It felt good, weirdly enough, knowing she was there, with him now.

He asked slowly, "How do you know?"

"Because I still trust you...and I won't be a pain this time." He snorted and looked out in front of him. There was the old Renee, denying she would be the old Renee.

"Promises promises."

"I mean it." Along with a slight edge in her voice, he also felt a little poke into his side through the bag. She must have put everything she had into that punch. It almost tickled.

He wasn't going to antagonize her now. They needed to get going, or the very least figure out if he was flight worthy. He readied his wings and replied, "Okay. This time, if you need anything, scream loudly. Not that teeny tiny keening shit like before." Fuckit, antagonizing her was fun.

"Oh shut up! I hope your wing snaps and you bounce on your fat white ass instead of on me so I at least get to see it kicked by planet earth, since these damn legs are too short to reach that big fat-" He jostled his bags around a little so she tumbled inside them, cutting her off.

"Sheesh, and you think I'm the one with the mouth. Give me a break, I could barely find you, just this falling speck and a teeny tiny keening wailing, like a hyped up mosquito that ate too much sugar blood while stalking foals on Nightmare Night-"

"I'll tell mom you dropped me-"

"Alright!" He quickly cut her off before she could develop her threat. "So, like I said, scream loudly." He had to raise his voice over the grumbling from bag, "Otherwise, hold on. This time."

She poked her muzzle out, "You are a jerk." She looked like Tweety Bird from the old cartoons, how her face stuck out from a burger bun, or burrito, or whatever Tom had stuck the bird in on any given episode. Catching her movement in the corner of his eye, he turned to regard her, a thought coming to him.

"And you are my little birdie!" The label simply popped out of him before he realized what he was saying. He remembered his pegasus mother laughing at the way he hopped around and flapped his wings when he was very young, his voice chirping in excitement. So long ago....

Before he could apologize or take it back, she answered, "Heh. I like that." She pulled her face back into the bag, but stuck a wingtip out sternly, "In privacy only. If you call me that in public, I'll kick your ass." The wing whipped back inside, replaced by two eyes curious to see his gliding performance.

Civil nodded and stared straight ahead. "Yes, ma'am." There was a comical nature responding thusly to a near newborn foal.

And yet, in some weird, transdimensional Discord-fucking-everypony-in-the-ass just-for-the-hell-of-it kind of way, it was almost more natural to say 'yes ma'am' to this foal than it was to his own human mother. Their mother, he supposed. He shook himself, mindful that he needed to pay absolute attention to the winds now, in favor of his injured wing.

The trick to gliding was simply understanding that while flying allowed you to get back up in the air if you screwed up the approach, gliding was a one-shot deal. Whatever decisions you made in choice of terrain and approach, you had to eat the consequences, for better or worse. 'Make it work, no matter what.' That was his pegasus father's greatest lesson when Civil was first learning to fly. Second saying was 'Any crater you can crawl out of is still a landing.'

He glanced back at the foal he was carrying. Yeah, forget the second one for now, think of the first one. He nodded to himself and walked to the edge of the cloud.

Make it work.

***

The wind drifted serenely over the two...and the cloud they were still standing on.

Liberty poked her head out. "Hey, Dolittle, anytime now." Seeing if she got a rise out of him, his only response was his left ear flicking once. If that was some kind of 'It's a pony thang' sign language he learned while going native, she wasn't having it. "Dolittle, as in you are doing very little...and like World War Two when the Dolittle bombers dropped screaming helpless foals over Japan-"

"I get the references!" Civil twisted his neck around a few times, working out some kinks. Surprising Liberty, he sat back on his haunches and lowered his wings. "Funny you should mention Japan."

Liberty giggled. "Oh?"

Glancing back, he noted the smirk on her face. "Hello Kitty is Japanese."

The smirk disappeared. And so did the tiny head as she hid back into his bags.

"Yah okay, good trivia to know," she muffled back, "Can we go now?"

He shook his bags lightly, eliciting a yelp from her. "Alright, little Miss Impatient. But, in case either of us don't make it, and just between the two of us," he lowered his voice before continuing, "that whole butter thing wasn't REALLY for science, WAS it?"

A guilty pair of eyes hovered inside the dark opening. "No..." was her quiet response.

"Thought so." He stood back up and readied himself.

"Wait don't you want to know why?"

"Nope. That way when I get you back I won't feel so guilty about it."

"You asshole! I was getting revenge for oh shit oh shit oh shit!" He had launched off the cloud with all the strength left in his legs, trying to get speed and lift with fixed wings since he could no longer flap them, else he would further injure himself.

No matter what.

Without much else happening, it was a peaceful glide down to the ground from 20k up. He angled for what looked to be a field of dead grass just south of the northern border of North Carolina, as noted by the map on his phone. He typed in a message to Center informing them of his injured wing, which was why he had to use a glide profile and cut his trip short. They acknowledged his message, set about closing out his flight plan, and reassured him that the report would only be a formality, given circumstances seemed to be outside his control. He didn't reply, lest his guilty conscience give way to him truthfully ending his own flight status by spilling the beans.

The landing was just as uneventful, one a vet flier would acknowledge textbook. He looked back at Liberty as she peered around them, her distrustful opinion of their surroundings apparent on her face. He murmured, "Well, all the important stuff is done. We're on the ground...hm...I think we are going to need a better solution than you being in my bags."

She raised her eyebrows, "Meaning...what?"

He tilted his head in thought. "Somepony who might know someone or pony that works with leather. Maybe make some straps to hold you down better."

She blushed and glared at the same time, "Oi, no kinky shit!"

He shushed her. "I need to make a phone call. Behave." She blinked at his audacity, but let it pass. Who was he calling, she wondered to herself.

His phone rang on the other end a few times...and she picked up. He sighed, finally something going in his direction.

"Hay long time, never called me, Civil. What's up?" He clearly heard a sucker clacking around in her mouth.

"Haya Pink, I know, my bad. Well, I meant to call earlier but...it's been busy."

Hot Pink replied, "Uh huh. Still good to hear from ya. Visiting soon?"

"About that. I might need a favor first, that is, if you don't mind." Liberty's mouth formed a tiny 'o'. Her ears could pick up the FEMALE person's voice coming out of the phone. Since when did this guy know girls? ANY girls!?!

"Anything sweety. By the way," her voice got a little husky, "I like this new bold version of you, makes you even cuter."

By this time, Liberty couldn't contain herself. "Who's that?"

Then Hot Pink asked, "Who's that?"

He stared at both his mother/sister and his phone, then sighed and put it on speaker. "Liberty, this is one of the other ponies I met in my flight rules class shortly after my return to Earth. Hot Pink, this is Civil Liberty. She used to be my sister, human sister. But now she's my mom. Pony mom. Who talks and acts like my sister with no mom memory. Ugh, it's complicated."

Both mares squee'd in stereo, followed up by 'omygosh omygosh you found your mother!' and 'omygod omygod you found a girlfriend lemme talk to her!' from Liberty.

Civil groaned and simply dropped the phone into the bag. He plodded on, tuning out both of them while heading for a line of trees. He wasn't easy with staying out in the open. The girls began a very long and animated chat together that included longer introductions, catching each other up on the last couple of years of their lives, where they lived as humans, and embarrassing moments centered around him, for some reason. They've never even met for Celestia's sake, he groused to himself. At length, Liberty was finally able to get his attention.

"Oi, Tall Dark and Grumby, she wants to talk to you now, lover boy." This elicited a giggle from the other end and a low growl from him.

"Gee thanks, glad we can get back to why I called." During their girl chat, he'd made it to the trees and simply sat inside their shade. He could see what looked like a road on the opposite side of the field, but there was no movement. Why should there be? Every normal person or pony would be home now, it being Christmas Eve tomorrow...Hearth's Warming...either or, he grumbled to himself. He was still at odds with which part was more important, human experiences or pony ones.

He must have forgotten he was holding the phone near his head because, "Yeah, that lovely Mrs. Liberty mentioned you were injured." Her voice changed to one of concern. "Civil, what happened? I know we recover quickly, but in this world you have to be careful. It's almost like the Everfree now if you are out by yourself and grounded. How did you hurt your wing?"

"I...mm, twisted it the wrong way doing a stunt, and...anyway this injury is not a big deal."

"He's a terrible liar, Liberty."

"Yes, he is."

"Look," he said, getting exasperated, "I feel bad about it and would like to get to the problem at hand. Hoof. Hmm."

"Okay Mr. Prickly Bush, what's yer boggle?"

He froze, "....how do you know that name?" He'd read it in a book back in Equestria, when they were putting the library back together. Aside from other things done, Discord had made a mess of their lineage records.

"Um, we have allthorns all over the place so we call them prickly bushes, why?"

He shook his head, "Nevermind. Do you guys have anypony that makes custom straps, or saddles, for ponies?"

"Hun, you and I live in Texas. I'm near Odessa, remember? If you'd ever visit...watcha need, sweets?"

"I have a special request for something to allow a foal to sit securely so she won't fall out when I fly. That doable?"

There was a gasp. "You want to give your mom ponyback rides, pegasus style?! That's so adorable I could cuddle you for ages!"

Liberty was laughing up a storm while Civil turned beet red and squirmed. "Yeah. Anyway is that doable?"

"Sure thing hun. Once you heal up, just come on by with her and we'll get you set right up. I can't wait to meet your mother, although its customary for the mare to bring the stallion home to meet her parents for approval, you know."

Civil groaned, much to Hot Pink's delight. "Is it always going to be this way with you?" he said into the phone in a lowered voice. Not like that helped.

Liberty exclaimed, "Civil! That's rude, apologize!"

"It's okay, ma'am, I like making him squirm."

Liberty cackled, "So do iI"

And in a softer voice, Pink said, "I really have missed you, Civil, since that night."

Another gasp from Liberty. She whispered harshly, "Civil, you slept with her already? I thought I raised you better!"

Civil yelled quickly, just as Hot pink also said nonchalantly, "Nothing happened," both in unison. "And anyway," he added, "you don't remember how you raised me!"

Liberty opened her mouth in astonishment, then said, "Ouch, hitting low now, are we?"

Civil whined out of frustration, then glowered when he saw Liberty's not so injured smirk.

But Pink said, "He's a well mannered stallion, Mrs. Liberty. You raised a good one."

That made Liberty's cheeks burn and she settled down into her bag, mumbling, "Yeah, I suppose the evidence is in the pudding...."

"Anyway so when should we expect you? Today maybe? Or tomorrow once you heal up?"

"Definitely not today. We didn't get too far on my flight plan until I dropped...uh, altitude and twisted my wing, but we landed alright," he finished. After a few seconds, he continued, "We are still three hours out as the pegasus flies, somewhere in near the North Carolina-Virginia border. Figure it may be a couple of days, to heal up, fly home-"

"Civil," Pink said quickly, "you are out in the middle of nowhere. Remember what I said about being stranded? It's the Everfree and, and you are grounded! You'll get picked off...find some tall grass, hunker down!"

"I walked us to some trees-"

"Hide in the shadows then! Liberty!"

"Yes ma'am!" she replied, saluting. Civil mumbled that they were in the shadows, but nopony was listening to him now.

"His phone has a sidebar tool with a ruler. Use that to take measurements of his barrel and yourself. I'll walk you through the process, just give me a minute to get our leather specialist."

Liberty saluted the phone again, "Jawolh mein kommandantin Pink!" and began pulling herself out of the saddlebag. After a few seconds, he dropped the phone onto her back, which she begane balancing as she climbed. His part in all this already seemed small.

Despite the question of how she knew his phone better than he, another more relevant question persisted. He raised his voice, "Hot Pink....what are you doing?"

"A rescue op, silly. Lay down so that foal doesn't fall and bonk her head while trying to measure you."

He laid down quickly, surprised at the authority in her voice. He blinked and looked at the phone to verify it wasn't using the facetime video app. "Um, how did you know she was a foal." Liberty paused and opened her mouth.

"Her voice. It's squeaky like a foal's. And in case you feel conscientious about it, Mrs. Liberty, I absolutely love it. I wasn't going to say anything about it until we met, but circumstances have changed and I don't care to have Civil there bonk his baby mama."

Liberty nearly died from laughter while having a hard time staying on Civil's back.

"That is so wrong...in ways that corrupt my inner child," he moaned.

"Uh huh. Suck it up, buttercup. Yer a navigator so text me your exact coordinates and we should be there ASAP. Once we have you saddled up...oh yeah, that is going to look so saucy on him, mmhm...nono, THAT one, yah go with that black one...mmhmm, the silver accents, your read my mind."

"Uh, who are you talking to? And what is this 'we' thing?" He started to get worried. He used his good wing to reach back and tap on his phone, Liberty wincing everytime he pressed down hard. She could swear he was doing it on purpose.

"Don't you worry, Civ, we got this handled. The cavalry is on the way. Liberty, ready to get measuring?"

She grabbed the phone away from Civil, made sure the text of their location was sent and nodded to the phone, "Yes ma'am!"

"I like her already, Civ. We'll start at the withers and go from there. Ready, sweety?"

"Sure thing, Hots!"

He groaned and laid his head down in the grass as the two mares went back and forth over the phone and his body. He refused to think about what that previous sentence. "This is going to be a long day," he mumbled to himself.

His mother patted him on the neck with a dainty hoof and went back to work, talking to Hot Pink. His mother. He smiled to himself. He had his mother back. Sort of. It could have been worse. A pause in the background conversation made him look up from his internal musings. Liberty was holding the phone out to him, smiling.

He made a face at her and took the phone.

"Still there?" he asked.

"Yep, but not for long. Give me and Blazing...half an hour, then we'll be on our way. I’ll send somepony ahead of us, in case we are delayed. Don't move from that spot."

He stared at the phone, amazed anypony, any-ONE would go out of their way for him.

"Hot Pink, you don't have to do this. What you are doing is beyond-"

"Civil. Shush," she replied. Solemnly, she said, "We are ponies."

And that was the way of things.

***

"He was there, Civil! He was there, and he was angry, and...he was so angry I never want to see those eyes again! Those eyes, those yellow and red angry eyes!" She was trembling now.

"Shhh, it's okay, mom, I'm sure you won't have to see him again. So you did see the eyes. When did this happen?" They were huddled down in a nearby ditch, her body pressed up against his under his wing. To pass the time, he had asked if she had experienced anything during the events since her full change. He had pronounced it 'foal' change, but she had given him a withering stare. She said 'no' to the morning she woke up ponified...and 'yes' to the fall, of all things.

"My life flashed in front of me. No seriously, you don't get to laugh about this one!" He tried to wipe the smile off his muzzle. The whole 'life flashing by' motif was so overplayed, he was trying not to laugh. "Anyway...I DIDN'T remember it that night I changed, but the FALL caused me to remember it now." She glared again, daring him. He tried his poker face. He was terrible at poker face. She acknowledged his effort with the barest acceptance and continued, "There was red color all around me, like before, and the booming sound again. After the wave of pain, I remember looking up and those eyes loomed over me. They were so angry at me, Civil, so angry. What did I do to him that made him hate me so much?!"

"I...can't say...that's not the impression I got...." he mused quietly, remembering his own dreams of-

"What? How could you...?" She searched his face.

"Being angry," he said quickly. "With you.....I mean....why would he be angry with you? You are so adorable. Now...as an infant." She absolutely did not need to know some of the dreams he'd been having lately, not in her condition. In her current state of mind, she would just as soon forget about the whole ordeal if she could.

"Please stop teasing me. I don't feel good right now."

"Sorry, I was trying to lighten the mood."

"No. It's my-" Gurgle. Her eyes went wide and looked down, then started whining, "Civil! I'm so sorry!" She took a moment to snuffle...and bawled out, "I made a meeeeeeeeeessssssss!"

He gently pulled her to him and checked her diaper, very carefully. The smell reached his nostrils before any valuable feathertips touched anything horrid. "It's okay, mom. It happens to everypony, even old ones. We'll just take care of this as quickly as possible." He pulled out the proper supplies while continuing to hold her, then laid out a baby blanket and placed the weeping foal on it. The next sequence of steps were of the mundane and horrid variety. He groaned, "I don't like this part," turning his nose away as he clumsily wiped her lower half down with baby wipes. Probably more than was needed, but it was all over the place!

"You think you have it bad?!?!" she quailed, her eyes squeezed shut. "It came out of me...ugh, I can feel it still on me. Hurry, get it off!"

"I am! This is wrong on so many levels," he muttered nasally. He attempted not to breathe through his nose, or think of said levels, not the least being he was cleaning his MOTHER and SISTER all around her...stuff.

Once the nasty was done, he buried the tightly wound up diaper into a nearby hole he'd dug up with his hooves. Thank Celestia he had bought biodegradable ones. Yes, they exist. He would have buried the plastic ones too, he thought guiltily, but this way he could sleep at night. Properly powdered and deftly diapered, it was a happy foal that finally took in big gulps of air. He was about to say something when she held up a hoof, looking away. "No comments."

They settled down again, listening to the wind sift through the tall trees, the long reeds of grass flowing in waves out in the field.

"Civil, I'm scared."

He looked down at her, huddled there under his wing. "Why are you scared?"

"Because we are out here, all alone, in the wilderness." She paused and took a deep breath. Then she yelled at him, "and I'm fucking tiny! What am I supposed to do with these!?!" She shook her hooves at him.

"Walk on them?" His ear swiveled in the opposite direction.

"Ha ha!" she laughed, crossing her forelegs. "I find your lack of appreciation of the situation disturbing." He merely rolled his eyes.

A deep voice drifted down to them from the branches high above their heads. "Hay. You haven't seen two helpless ponies around here, have you?" They looked up and spotted a pony shaped head in the darkness of the leaves looking down at them. The head glanced around briefly, "One is really uptight with new fancy ponyshoes. Other one makes squeaky sounds, screaming to the whole world how she is scared? Not that any wild predators run to the screams of a tiny animal in need, but...you know...maybe they do."

After nearly having a heart attack, Liberty raised her hoof at the pony staring down at them. "I'm not scared of you!" A few seconds of freefall followed by a gust of wind later, a very large stallion towered over the tiny pegasus. Her eyes barely flicked from his giant head down to his fluffed chest, further down to his barrel and then his...she sped back behind Civil's leg to hide.

Civil snorted, glancing down to make sure she was okay before lifting his other foreleg to hoofbump Barro's. "Har har....good to see you, Barro." That was the most Civil had heard the large guy speak in one breath. He must have been expanding his horizons when it came to conversation.

"Same." Barro stared at him, unmoving after he put his hoof down.

...hm, probably too soon on the horizons thing.

"I mean it," Civil repeated. "It really is good to see you. You don't know the shit we've been through."

Barro looked around. He noted the forest and open field, in the middle of nowhere far from any kind of civilization. He saw Civil drooping his wing. He replied evenly, "I might know."

"What is Strat up to these days?"

The larger pegasus shrugged, "Laying low last few days. He got real weird after his own injuries."

"Oh? He got injured?" Civil's brow raised.

"Yeah. Went into Odessa for a few minor errands. Came back in splints. He healed up before you called, wanted to come with us, too. Then he started talking about the universe informing him not to, so he didn't. Odd pegasus."

Civil hummed to himself softly and looked down at Liberty, who was still hiding behind his leg. "Very."

She got even further behind his leg, if that were physically possible, and retorted, "I have no idea what you are talking about!"

He glanced up, " 'Come with us?' Hot Pink is on the way, then?"

Barro smiled knowingly, "She is, along with a unicorn. Figured you might need some firepower out here in case the locals take to us unkindly. And she has a surprise for you."

Civil shook his head. "I don't need any surprises, just a means to carry this little tyke around without....stuff happening." She blew a raspberry up at him. Barro leaned low.

"What is your name?" he said in his deep rumbling bass voice.

She got wide-eyed again and hid, squeaking out, "civiliberty!"

Civil chuckled, fighting the urge to remove the leg she was using as a hiding spot. "Her name is Civil Liberty, my mother. You want to say hello to the big guy? His name is Barro Metric."

"no" came the very small response.

Civil shook his head, sighing. "Sorry, she can be weird like that."

His friend chuckled, "No sweat." Then he started to walk around them, eyeing the area they were in. "Good ditch, should be fine for the campfire, hard to spot from that road." He settled down and started preening.

"Campfire?" Civil asked. Barro merely eyupped and continued his work. Mother and son glanced at each other silently.

It wasn't all that long before they heard some flapping overhead. A pink form soared between the tree trunks, the mare loaded with heavy bags and carrying a unicorn under her, large straps holding him up. When they were hovering low enough, his horn glowed and the straps undid themselves, dropping him to his hooves. He adjusted the spectacles on his face with one hoof. Hot Pink flapped a few more times and alighted gently next to the group of ponies.

"Civil!"

She practically galloped over to him and engulfed him in her wings. Liberty scampered away to avoid getting trampled as Civil steadied himself. After several long seconds of Civil squirming in embarrassment, Hot pulled back and looked him up and down. The corners of her mouth dipped into a frown. "Your blacks are starting to fade. Shame."

He glanced down to examine his forelegs and wingtips. Oh, the coffee stains and ink...technically he hadn't decided whether to keep the coloration or bleach it out. He supposed he could try a longer lasting dye-

Civil shook his head and replied testily, "I hadn't thought about it. I'm not exactly Cloudsdalian, I'm an east coaster. You know, shells for earrings, seaweed woven into our...uh, all that crap they spew about us."

She snorted, grinning. He did not like the look in her eye. "Shells and seaweed. Now that is a look worth exploring..." He felt very much like a rabbit before a wolf. "They say other things too, if I remember correctly." Her look softened when she saw his drooping wing. She peered closely at the joint. He wasn't surprised when Hot muttered 'joint sprain' under her breath.

She added, "It could have been worse, you know." He nodded guiltily, cheeks red.

A tiny throat cleared below them and they looked down.

"Even though my entire sky is full of undersides and nether regions, and we are NOT discussing my preferences at this junk, j-JUNCTURE!!!...I would prefer to be eye level during our conversations, if you don't mind."

Civil rolled his eyes and shifted to the side so Liberty could have more G-rated sky. Hot giggled and stepped forward, glancing to Civil, "Do you mind?"

He smirked and shrugged. "She's fair game."

Hot Pink leapt forward and scooped up the foal. Liberty exclaimed, "What the hell, why is everyone always scooping me up!"

To which the larger mare said, "Because you are so adorably scoopable!" She began to tickle the foal with her wings, eliciting peals of laughter from Liberty. Civil shifted awkwardly as he stood to the side. Hot asided to him, "I've got this. Blazing should check your injury with his horn, in case it is worse than it looks." He eyes flicked over at the unicorn. The two mares basically picked up where they left off from the phone conversation.

Civil knew a dismissal when he heard one, but he felt her concern in it. Sight and touch could do only so much in the medical field. He wandered over to the unicorn and found him inspecting the contents of the bags Hot Pink had dropped off. "Hi, my name is Civil Patrol," the pegasus said. The unicorn nodded to him briefly, then went back to the bags, magicking out rolls of leather, awling needles, a small hammer and other tools.

Okay. The pegasus added, "Hot Pink mentioned you could look at my injury in case it was worse off."

"I already did," the unicorn responded, his head still in one of the bags. He backed out, his horn glowing light brown. A black saddle with silver accents floated out, along with several buckles and a roll of leather strap.

"You did? I never felt it."

The unicorn nodded, then levitated a rolled up kit of tools, awls, punches, and various leatherworking items. "While you two were hugging. The proximity of your magic and hers allowed me to do a preliminary scan, skim some excess energy off the top as it were, with it being only a wing injury. Plus I needed you relaxed. A full scan can be done later, but it will be more invasive and requires more of your magic directly, which may be exhausting for you. We can do that after the fitting. I want to check the saddle for discomfort in your current physiological configuration."

Numbly, Civil nodded. "Right..." He understood scans to some degree, in that they tingled and took a little out of you. Everything else went over his head.

Blazing peered over his glasses at him. "Trust me." The pegasus shrugged, what choice did he have? The unicorn began his work rather diligently, Civil noted. With horn glowing, strips of leather, buckles, and all manner of implements flew around him to tailor the saddle and straps securely. At some point, Hot Pink squawked in protest as Liberty lifted out of her grasp and over to Civil where she alighted atop the saddle on his back. He was familiar with unicorn magic, yet it was always a sight for him to behold, like a symphony of chaos.

Liberty, however, was dazzled at the cloud of activity swirling around her, like a child seeing something shiny for the first time. And like a child, her fascination waned. So she began staring at the unicorn himself. Eventually he paused and stared right back at her, simply asking, "What?"

"I have a question to ask," was her high pitched reply. Civil snorted softly, shaking his head. Of course she would state it rather than ask, so as not to invite the typical 'you just asked a question' response. The unicorn smiled ruefully, having thought the same thing and went back to work.

"If it is within my capacity, I can answer any question you like."

There was a time when you've known someone for so long, that you have heard the most idiotic things from them they could muster, such that they can never top the stupidest shit said to date. Normally this acclimates you to embarrassment in public and you no longer have anything to worry about.

Apparently he did not know her long enough.

"When the stories say only a virgin can summon unicorns, do they mean real human virgins, or just any virgin? Like do pony virgins count? On that note, can a unicorn virgin summon himself...or herself? But as for Civil, I'm pretty sure he is still a virgin, or he wouldn't act so weird around women. And he somehow summoned you, a male. That actually raises several other questions-"

Everything floating around fell straight down. Barro and Hot Pink scattered to keep from getting pelted while Blazing stepped this way and that to avoid the items, laughing his pony ass off. A needle poked Civil in his bare flank, causing him to buck sharply...which launched Liberty screaming off into the air. Hot Pink spotted her and dove to the ground, catching the foal in her forelegs as the larger mare slid to a stop on her belly. She laughed, "Just like buckball!"

A very angry Civil winced as the needle was extracted by the apologetic unicorn. He yelled, "I am not a virgin!"

Liberty crossed her legs, having completely put her most recent flight behind her already. "Prove it!"

"What!?!"

"Name one time where you slept with a girl. Any species, I'll give you that one." Hot Pink carried her back over to him to place on the saddle, but he took a step back, holding up his good wing.

"That....I am not...I'm not talking about this to my sister slash mom...or in front of them! And that's none of your business anyway!" He shrugged off the saddle and walked away, despite Hot trying to get him come back.

Hot Pink sighed and put the foal down on the saddle and looked at Blazing questioningly. He shrugged and said, "I can make do for now. The sizing is done for him. Just need to attach the straps for her." Hot nodded, then looked at Liberty sternly.

"Was that necessary?"

Liberty responded by crossing her forelegs and retorting, "I'm his mother. All things to do with him are necessary!" Hot Pink stared at her longer. She finally wilted and murmured, "Maybe not ALL things...but he shouldn't get so shy around girls. He's a grown adult and he's allowed to do grown adult things with pretty adults like you-" Hot Pink placed a hoof over Liberty's muzzle before she babbled even more delicate things.

"I think it's cute. I may not be a mother yet, but I do understand our pegasi protective nature." Liberty meant to reply but Hot Pink nudged her hoof a little more against her muzzle, "Part of that protection is giving our fillies and colts room to grow, or they will never learn."

Liberty gently pulled Hot's hoof down, which meant she practically suspended herself on it to apply any force. "I'm...sorry. This is all just a little new to me."

Hot Pink nodded, "I get that, but you shouldn't apologize to me. I'll go speak to him..." She paused, thinking, then she eyed Liberty more closely. "You have a peculiar way of making things your business. A unicorn myth to address his shyness?"

Liberty shrugged, nonplussed. "It's all or nothing with me. What better way to get his honest feelings then to thoroughly shake things up."

The older mare snorted softly, standing straight. Her lollipop clacked around for a few seconds. "Mm...shake things up. I like that. I just hope he likes the saddle." That last part was more to herself than anypony else. Liberty took note of it, in any case.

Civil had found a nice little clearing where some wild flowers were growing and decided to eat away his feelings. He didn't even care if they might be hazardous.

"Save some for me, Civ."

He glanced up, saw who it was and moved over to the other side of the clump to offer her some. "Enough here for the others, I guess."

She smiled and nodded, sitting next to him instead of opposite. "We'll take some back when you are ready." Then she lowered her head to eat.

He was sure she was going to say something more, then figured she was waiting for him. He wasn't so much upset as he was simply annoyed. It showed in his tone when he did speak up, "Liberty does that all the time. Says the most aggravating things in the fewest words possible. As Renee, she did that, too. You'd think she would know all of this stuff is hard to deal with."

Hot Pink paused in her chewing to swallow, then regarded him, "She strikes me as the kind of pony to just get things out in the open. Light that stick of dynamite and get it over with rather than sit on it. And she is concerned about your love life." He groaned and turned away, but stopped when he felt her wing on him. "Civil...it's okay if this makes you feel uncomfortable, being near me. I understood then and I understand now."

He turned around in surprise, "No, not at all! Actually, it is comforting...um, being near you." She smiled warmly, without judgement in her eyes. He swallowed, "Just that...I don't have a job, I don't even have a cutie-mark." He raised a hoof before she could respond, "And I know you think that is alright. I don't. I need a foundation of some kind, some acknowledgement for me, that I am on the right track. Otherwise, even if I want to settle down, it won't feel right."

She nodded, "I remember what we talked about back in Randolph." When Civil gave her a look, she shook her head, "I didn't tell your mother anything. You are correct, it is your business, but she cares about you. Yes," she rolled her eyes at his expression of disbelief, "she tends to be bombastic about it. But hay, makes it more fun, right?" He snorted.

Civil began gathering up bunches of flowers. Hot Pink helped. When they had enough tucked under three wings, they started walking back. Before they reached the others, she whispered to him, "You are comfortable near me?"

He blushed and muttered, "Yes...and not in the Barro friend sort of way..."

She nodded and smiled wanly, whispering, "At your pace, Civ." He nodded and said thanks. As they neared the other ponies, they dropped off the flowers and were greeted with thankyou's and a small apology from Liberty, which Civil shrugged off with a promise of revenge later. Liberty laughed half-heartedly, not really sure if he was serious. Blazing offered to put the saddle back on, along with Liberty for finally fitting.

That was when she truly got to appreciate the work the unicorn had put into the piece. Liberty pawed at the supple feeling of the seat, the stitching and scrollwork patterns imprinted into the leather. Granted it was shaped differently to allow room for pegasus wings, as well as the fenders having been moved further back to accomodate a larger pony rider for later on, since no human would be riding on him (I'll buck the first fucker that tries to mount me, he had sworn, despite the unicorn reassuring him otherwise).

Liberty leaned forward and hissed, "She bought you a saddle. The unicorn said so." Blazing glanced up briefly, nodded, then went back to some minor cleanup work with his needle and the skirt of the saddle

"Hush," muttered Civil. He stared straight ahead. He had been trying to figure out how he was going to repay Hot Pink.

"I don't know shit about pony culture and she bought you a saddle! And it's almost Christmas!"

"Shut up!" While Hot Pink had been lounging nearby, playing with her phone, her ears swiveled his direction. A new lollipop stick also pointed his way. He whispered harshly, "We call it Hearth's Warming....dammit, I don't have anything for her! For you!..." He looked at Barro and Blazing who were standing right there. They both shrugged. Stallion on stallion gifting wasn't a big deal, unless two stallions were a big deal to each other.

"FUCK!" Civil exclaimed.

Hot laughed, the lollipop stick clacking around. "Oh Civil, seriously, you didn't know you were going to see me or other ponies, or could have foreseen any of this." Her eyes took him in, wearing the saddle, with Liberty nearby. "Tell you what. Just to make sure you get home safely, I'll escort you back to your parents' house. You can introduce me. That will be a fine enough gift. Yah?" While Civil grudgingly nodded. Blazing glanced over to Barro.

"Might need to rearrange our travel plans," he said quietly to him. Barro simply nodded with an eyup.

When Blazing looked to be just about done, merely eyeballing his work from different angles while his tools slowly levitated back into the rollup kit, Liberty dug out the Deadpool figure from Civil's bags. It then glowed, floated out of her hooves to the pommel of the saddle and snapped into place. Civil turned his head, raising a brow. "Seriously?"

"Magnets," the unicorn replied.

"No! I mean, are we really going to stick that thing up there...and how does it just so happen to fit exactly in place..." He stopped and stared at the pommel. The figurine briefly lifted up to show the spot had a small flat circular depression to fit the figurine base exactly, then it floated back down, magnets snapping together again. Blazing smiled, admiring his own work. Civil then eyed the two female ponies. Both their eyes twinkled. He shook his head. "I don't even want to know."

Liberty giggled, "Nope, you don't!"

"My work here is done." He peered closely at Civil's left wing joint. Looking up he asked, "May I?" Civil shrugged.

"It's still gonna be sprained, unless you are a doctor too."

The unicorn smirked, "Hardly. Rudimentary first aid is a requirement when learning to use your horn. I can still give it a proper scan. Take a deep breath and don't fight the tingling." The area around the joint glowed, along with Blazing's horn. Some of the pain went away, Civil sighing in relief. The glowing ceased. "Just a little easing of the inflammation. It will still need a good night's rest to get working again safely, if a bit stiff." He looked Civil in the eyes, which were starting to droop a little, "You feel okay? It does take part of your energy for the healing as well, remember."

"Yeah, I remember. I could have taken it earlier, I'm strong."

The unicorn shrugged, "Maybe. But I also needed to see how the saddle sat on you in rough conditions, like wing injury. Now you can wear it anytime, even in the most dire circumstances. Plan for the worst..."

Civil nodded, finally accepting that this whole time he was in pain, wasn't because the unicorn was being a prick, "Hope for the best." Blazing winked and smiled, then looked around, spotting the ditch.

"I can put up a light inversion bubble over there and we can hunker down for the evening."

Barro nodded in agreement. "Thought so."

"You don't want to teleport back?" Hot Pink asked.

"Not enough time to memorize this area." When all three winged ponies stared at him, he rolled his eyes. "It's a teleport thing, trust me."

Barro said, "I heard about the cell phone trick-"

The unicorn held up a hoof, "Nope. I'll leave that to the true eggheads to play with. Knowing my luck, I could go in 5G and come back out 3G. Anyway, my horn will give you plenty of protection out here against predators, more than any stern wingslaps."

"Oi," quipped Hot Pink, grinning, "a stern wingslap has been known to change the course of history."

"Maybe in Equestria. Out here...? Barro," he turned to the other pegasus, "I was hoping you would hang out until the morning. Fly me back once Civil here is able to grab some sky."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Saddles."

"Saddles?" asked Civil, curious. "I thought you were called Blazing." He gently puth Liberty down and then proceeded to extract himself from the saddle.

The unicorn nodded back and lit his horn, this time a crystal clear bubble expanding to encompass all of them and a few feet more. The bubble settled down until it was halfway into the ground, then disappeared. A faint blue circle on the ground continued to glow. "Inside that line, we cannot be seen or heard. I prefer Blaze. They insist on calling me Blazing..." He glowered at Hot Pink's tongue sticking out at him. "But if you must...Blazing Saddle." He showed his flank slightly to Civil, the proper introduction. It showed a picture of a saddle ringed in fire.

"I still think you should dye your mane red, hon," Hot quipped, which was summarily ignored by the unicorn.

Civil gave him an odd look. Most times, pony names were normal to other ponies, except these days with human memories behind them, it could get weird. It also reminded him of somepony he'd met earlier.

"I know," the unicorn explained, "strange coincidence to the Mel Brooks movie-"

"Actually, while that is true, that's not what I was thinking of. I met somepony else with the Saddle name."

"Saddle Soar, up in New Beginnings?" Blazing asked. Civil nodded. The unicorn hummed to himself. "That would be my cousin." Just as Civil was thinking the cousin was a pegasus and Blazing was a unicorn, "Not all tribes stick to their own." Civil grinned sheepishly, caught red-hooved. Blazing put his tools back in the bag.

"If you are wondering, I changed my name. Saddle Blaze got too many 'Rainbow Blaze' type questions, back before the curse. I got tired of it and switched the names around. Before the curse, naturally. Behold my surprise when I rediscovered my name...and there is a movie here with the same name. In an odd way, that movie helped me remember some things. Anyway, I'm still good with saddles and leather work, as long as it's not from a talking animal." He snorted, "Or a talking plant, for that matter. So don't give me any gripe about what your saddle is made of. It is perfectly ethical."

Civil raised his hooves, "No complaints here, the work is beautiful. I'm at a loss as how to even thankyou."

Blazing snorted, smiling, "Just don't paint it red," watching Hot huff indignantly out of the corner of his eye.

It was early evening later and the fire was stoked up a bit. They had all made a nice meal of the flowers, plus a few things Hot Pink had as well. Liberty was still unhappy with having to drink from a bottle. Hot Pink wanted to suggest an alternative, but Civil vehemently shook his head. While he fed her on the other side of his body, he motioned to the older mare and tried to pantomime. Hot even started to pull out a container from her own bag until Civil shook his head. She shrugged, sibling revenge taking precedent here.

Some time later, "Civil?"

He looked down at the foal, "Yes ma'am?"

She stared up at him, "Huh...hm, we'll get back to that another time. But I have a stupid question, if you don't mind?"

He raised an eyebrow at her politeness. "These days, the only stupid question is the unanswered one."

Blazing nodded sagely.

"Okay mister high school teacher of wisdom," Liberty smirked, "If I'm Civil Liberty and you are Civil Patrol...um...calling you Civil is silly, isn't it? We'd be calling each other Civil."

Hot grinned devilishly, sitting up. She knew where this was going. The proverbial kettle was just placed on the stove.

Civil could sense danger, but hoped he could steer this train wreck off track. "Well, yeah. I wouldn't call you Civil. If I were a stranger it would be Mrs. Liberty, or Civil Liberty for a formal addressing. In my case," he paused and glanced at Hot, then back at Liberty, "I would say 'Mom'."

Hot stifled a giggle. The kettle was warming up. She could see the tips of his ears reddening.

"Wait! So why are you, specifically, called Civil? I mean, was I ever called Civil?"

Furrowing his brow in thought, he shook his head and sat up, trying to remember. "I don't know. It would have been before I was born. Heh, ironically enough, it was you who explained it to me when I was younger. It's an old custom that some herds follow. You see it with a lot of larger clans, though as herds have broken away and spread out, it's kinda falling out of style."

Hot chimed in. "The pegasus and earth tribes still hold to surnames. Some unicorns too, like the Twilights. Don't forget the Rainbows and the Apples. Especially their clan."

He smiled weakly at her, slightly annoyed. "Yeah yeah, it's all about the superstars. There ARE other bloodlines that follow customs besides the mane six."

In response, she smiled back sweetly. "Like the Civils."

His annoyance was replaced with wariness. Why was she so interested in this subject? With Liberty, he could understand her need for information and that constant penchant for trouble. Why was Hot Pink pressing it?

"I understand the surname, but only you are called Civil? Not me?" His mother was not letting this go.

"Well...it is like a right of passage, at least in our herd. My father was Civil, and his father was Civil. Once they joined a herd and had foals, they passed the surname on. In my case, I am the youngest, so I hold the Civil name. So the youngest sibling, or youngest generation." As Liberty raised a dainty hoof, he cut in, "if there are siblings or twins, the last one pushed out gets the name." The tiny hoof went down.

" 'Pushed out?' How uncouth, AND overly simplified." Hot shook her mane out and tsked. "The matriarchal mares, typically the lead mares, would normally pass on the name. If your sire and grandsire had no siblings, they carried the name. As for the Apples, their whole clan has some form of the apple name worked in, so slim chance of their name dying out. For us pegasi, it's a matter of will power. The stallions sometimes hold the surname, or the mares, based on a lot of things. And that is still oversimplifying it. It would take all night to explain pegasus traditions, starting with ancient history. Not all lead mares pass on the name, either. Trust me, it's far more complicated than that."

"It's not complicated! Youngest one carries the family name to represent the herd and their honor in public!" Now he was testy, having been challenged about what his mother had taught him. He had an inkling that Hot Pink might be more knowledgeable in traditions but he wasn't going to be bullied over it.

"While in private, you are called something else," Hot replied quietly.

"Exactly!"

Both mares traded looks, then stared at him expectantly. After a few seconds it dawned on him what had just happened. The red in his ears was traveling down his neck. The kettle had just boiled over.

He stared at the fire. Then he lowered his head onto his forelegs.

"I don't want to talk about it," he mumbled.

Both mares exploded with cries of outrage and exasperation. Hot flicked some dirt at him with a hoof. "What a tease!"

His mother exclaimed, "What!? Did something bad happen? What aren't you telling us?"

Brushing dirt off his nose, he sputtered out, "I'm not a tease! I just..." He paused and watched Liberty with a guarded expression. He murmured, "It's embarrassing, is all." He laid there, hoping they would give up. They stared at him, waiting.

Fine.

"You used to call me Little Bird."

Liberty's eyes widened, "You mean, Little Bird as in, what you said earlier-?"

"Yes," he said, cutting her off. He said in a calmer voice, "You would stand against the railing on top of the lighthouse and yell, 'where's my little bird?' and I would fly up from the beach or down from the clouds to hug you. I remember the hugs. You could barely move your atrophied wings to even hold them up, but you would use all your strength you had left to hug me."

His voice lowered and he muttered, "I would hop up and down like a little bird. You said I tweeted a lot as a colt." Now his face was on fire. He also felt twisted inside as more memories were dredged up.

Nopony said anything. The only sounds were from the crickets in the woods and the pops from the fire. Hot Pink REALLY wanted to comment on how precious that scene must have been...and yet, she could see pain in his eyes.

He cleared his throat. "There was a time...I thought I must have been so demanding that you wore yourself out just hugging me. That because it was such an effort, you had decided to leave so you wouldn't have to hug me anymore." That memory was one of his more bitter ones. As he had grown, he knew it wasn't true, but it didn't stop it from existing in his past.

"That is insane! Nopony would ever think that!" Liberty exclaimed.

Hot Pink added, "You actually thought that she'd left because of that?" She was horrified, more at the possibility than anything else.

"An angry adolescent stallion would think that," he muttered, staring into the fire.

"Point taken," Hot Pink replied softly.

Liberty said tentatively, "I can't recall any of this, Civil, but I swear to God, I know in my heart I would never have left my family, not unless it was so important that staying would have caused you all more harm. That has to be what happened. I mean, I had a child...good Lord, I was married!...wait, was I married?" She sat up with a surprised look.

"Not like royal marriage. You and dad were a herd. Before you ask, he was very good to you, and me."

Liberty blushed a little, trying to imagine...nevermind. She shuddered. "Okay that is going to take some getting used to. A herd." She thought longer on it. "Your father, sire, he carried the name and his sire..then that would mean..." she drifted off.

"You were not always a Civil," said Hot quietly.

It was Civil and Liberty's turn to exchange looks. "Oh shit, I should have known that. Mom, you never said what you were called before you met dad. I'm so sorry-"

She shushed him, patting his ribs with her hoof, "It's okay. If I didn't tell you, then I didn't tell you." She cocked her head to the side, "That could mean we have more family, right? Somewhere?"

He shrugged apologetically, "If you did, you never told me of them."

She scrunched up her nose, muttering, "I swear, if I ever get to time travel, I'm kicking my own ass for not telling you this stuff." The other ponies chuckled at her. Civil hugged her gently with his wing.

"You are here now. That is all that matters," he said.

The two mares awed while the uninvolved stallions smiled quaintly. After a while, Liberty smacked her lips a few times. "Um..."

"What," asked Civil wearily. He wasn't sure he could take anymore of her odd questions.

"I'm still kind of hungry."

Ah, something easy for a change, and a snack of revenge before they went to sleep. He got up, "Okay. Replacer milk time-"

"UGH, no! Don't make me drink that fake milk crap again!" She clapped her mouth shut. You Shall Not Pass!!!! was her expression. Civil contemplated keeping more emergency replacer around in the future, just to shut her up.

"Look, you are too young to eat flowers and adult pony stuff. You have to drink-"

"Ahem, Civil...?" Hot Pink waved her hoof a bit. "How about this time she tries something we brought along, instead? I had a feeling we might need it, so...yeah."

He saw the tortured look on Liberty and relented. "Sure, I guess."

She brought out a bottle and shook it up. It appeared to have a rainbow swirling liquid inside. Hooving it down to Liberty, the tiny pegasus took the bottle and licked a drop off the spout. Her eyes widened and she shoved the thing in her mouth, gulping and moaning. She got the bottle away from her mouth just long enough to say, "THANKYOU!!!" and went back to feasting.

Hot Pink also dug out a list of ingredients to show Civil. As he read, he muttered, "Woh. I never would have thought of all this. You used a blender?" She nodded. He skimmed down the list, then blinked, looking up at her. "Skittles...? You blended Skittles into this?"

She grinned and nodded. "Of course. It's great for energy, and we fliers need it. What's wrong with tasting the rainbow?"

His right eye twitched, remembering online meme posters, glimpses of the Element Rainbow Dash back in Equestria during the hayday of the mane six and their visits to Canterlot, as well as a few other stories from Cloudsdale and what those pegasi got up to in their rainbow fountains.

Liberty removed the bottle from her mouth again and exclaimed, "This shit is awesome! I am totally tasting the rainbow!" and went back to sucking it down.

He looked like he was going to be ill and just waved the list at Hot to take it while looking away. "So much wrong here...I'm just going to lie down now." He waited until she eventually took it back.

The mare frowned slightly. Then she walked over to his bags and slipped the list in them. "That was for you when you get back home, so you and your folks know what to feed her. There are other recipes on there, too, for variety. Don't want a finicky feeder the first few months, trust me. Dare say you might like a few of the meals, yourself." She quirked a smile at him, "And THAT was the big surprise, since you already knew about the saddle.

"Hmm, thanks." he said, smiling. Then he sat up and bowed his head, "Thankyou, all of you, for all of this." His gaze took in the new saddle, Liberty and her bottle, and the other stallions. The adults nodded back nodded back. Liberty ate greedily.

Hot Pink smiled and settled down near the fire. "We do what we can, when we can, right?" He nodded in agreement, lying down next to the foal. Eventually she slowed down on her feeding and he reached over to take the bottle.

Despite her protesting, he said, "Too much and all of that goodness could come back up on you." She thought about it and grudgingly agreed, then she scooched up against his side, under his wing. He looked down, "What are you doing?"

She looked up, "I'm tired...can I sleep with you?"

He looked a little nervous, "The one night was a fluke because our parents were already asleep. And besides, you are my sister, AND my mom. You don't have the mind of a newborn. This is awkward."

She sat up, looking at him sternly...or as much as a foal can stare down a stallion towering over her. "And if I was a lost foal, afraid of the dark, hunted by a god of chaos with those eyes, then what?"

He snorted softly. That was a low blow, even if she wasn't low to the ground in the first place. He sighed and lifted his right wing.

She wee'd and scooted right up under it.

"I think YOU are a god of chaos."

"Why thankyou, son-slash-brother."

He grumbled.

Before long, Liberty's breathing settled into the more rhythmic pattern of sleep. In the glow of the dying fire, he noticed Hot's open eyes watching them, a small smile on her muzzle. Embarrassment warmed his cheeks and he glanced around, trying to say something.

"As soon as she finds out about pony sleep piles, you'll never peel her off," she said quietly. He grumbled some more but didn't reply. "You are good with foals," she whispered, saving him from further awkwardness, at least that was her intent.

He still felt out of place. "I don't see it," he replied softly. "My last few seconds on Equestria were me trying to protect them, and I failed. Before that, I've always felt uncomfortable around...little ones."

Hot propped herself up on her fore legs, curiosity taking hold. She inquired, "Why's that?"

He replied, "When...my human brother was alive, as a toddler, I would babysit him. He didn't exactly behave himself with me. I tried to warn my parents later on that he was headed for a bad way but he was the youngest, so he got away with the most. He burned so brightly in life...Now, I can't even say 'I told you so' without feeling like shit." He stared at the dying fire, the similarity not lost on him.

Hot pink watched him for a time in quiet. She caught him stifling a yawn and figured he was staying up for her benefit. "I won't ask anymore questions, I think you've had enough." He chuckled to himself and laid his head down. She curled up, putting her back to the warm fire and her eyes to the outer ring of the group and said, "And I won't even ask for an innocent pony sleep pile." She giggled when she heard him shift uncomfortably.

***

Civil was standing in a field of tall grass, the hissing noise of wind causing them to bend in waves. It was not in the United States, but ancient Japan, like a typical scene of two samurai facing off. A storm brewed all around in the sky. A strawman shaped crudely like a draconequus stood before him. He stared at it, anger barely kept in check.

Another draconequus stood behind the pegasus, this one far more animated.

"Really, this again?"

The pegasus replied without turning, "For what you did to my mother." He charged at the strawman and took a single swipe at it with his reinforced wings. He landed on all four hooves, the dragonlike straw head hitting the ground a second later. He turned around and eyed the other Discord.

"I did you a favor. What do you want now?" the creature asked him.

"A favor? By making her a baby foal?!?"

The draconequus snarled, anger in the form of a fiery aura enshrouding the creature, "Oh pipe down! That happened before I could even think of the idea. Any simpleton that can detect magic would see it was NOT chaos magic." He paused and noticed Civil had wings. "Hm, nevermind. In any case, it was very deliberate UNICORN magic. Stew on that one for a while." Discord watched the different emotions play across Civil's face. "Yes. The magic was already in place when I found her. In a vault. Celestia's special vault." The fire faded, as did the anger. His face took on a calmer expression.

He flashed away and reappeared next to Civil, leaning in close to whisper, "And believe me, she had quite a few 'special' vaults." Civil took several steps away from him and faced him, readying for a headon attack. Straightening, Discord looked up wistfully, "Still, this was one of the more generic 'Stick-em-in-until-we-find-a-better-solution' kind of vaults. The stasis spell on her masked a vastly more complicated spell underneath. It was part of her molecular structure, a kind of extreme rejuvenation hex. Very volatile, so volatile in fact, she bounced back into Equestria as a newborn! Made two drops of pee come out of me."

Two drip sounds were heard in the distance. Civil's ears swiveled, picking it up.

Civil grimaced, "Celestia's vault?...wait...you cursed her twice, then. That would mean any recitation of the words, it would have twice the mental trauma!"

"Yes...diabolical, actually. I doubt their spells were meant to interact with my magic in such a way, well, in any planned sort of way. But like I said, I did not turn her into a newborn." He chuckled lightly, "In fact, mine was the beneficial of the three spells. Spiritual transportation, if you will. I am still at a loss how it happened, her bouncing back, though I would love to find out. It was not what she deserved, coming back like that." His eyes smoldered slightly. "And they call me a monster. Anyway, quit your whining. You got your precious mom back."

Civil's mind started to work its way between random dreamthink and actual cognitive self-awareness. "...you are really real. You are still alive...somewhere..." Civil's eyes went to pinpricks. All this time he had hoped he was working with a darker version of his own mind, fighting reflections of his own inner workings. There was no way Civil could have come up with that information about his mother, not on his own.

This was a vastly darker mind, belonging to the real god of chaos!

"You cannot kill chaos," Discord hissed. "Merely setting it aside for fun later is the best you ponies can do. I was set aside. Hmm...I AM inevitable." The tall dead grasses turned into green pastures stretched out before them, though discolored by the approaching storms. Discord looked down at the grass, frowning.

"Everything you've said, it's not a lie? She was just sitting there doing nothing all those years?!"

"Hah!" the god laughed and rolled around into a pretzel, peeking out of a loop made by his own body. "That's literally what I said! To your mother, in fact. 'Hello yet-another-troublesome-pony, whatever are you doing just sitting here doing nothing all these years?"

"What did she say?" he asked with bated breath.

"Initially? Nothing of course! She was frozen in a stasis field, I recall saying. For a detective, you tend to miss the obvious."

Civil nodded, hopped up into the air and smacked Discord, making him unravel into his normal self.

Instead of being angry, he grinned lopsidedly. "Yes, I deserved that. Though your temper still needs attention. Pity, you won't be able to accomplish great things with that directing your actions. Still, I on the other claw have been quite well-behaved up til now. I suppose that comes from a brief stint of eating grass and licking salt."

Civil wanted him to get to the point. "My mother?"

"No, I do not lick mothers, but thank you for the offer."

Once again, anger flashed through the pegasus, but this time he tried to calm himself. He needed answers. "How can I believe you, believe all this about my mother...the vault...the princess?"

One yellow eye slid over to regard the pegasus, "To ask a liar if he is lying is a fool's errand, but you summoned me and this takes some of the dreary boredom out of my current paradigm of reality."

The pegasus shook his head. "No, I'm not a unicorn, I couldn't have summoned-"

The draconequus whipped around quickly, eyes raging. Civil flinched, but he dug in his heels. He was through running and reacting. Discord raised a brow, "Hm...you're getting there. Certainly not in the brains department." Then he smiled, "Your desire to see me, even if it is to cause violence, calls to me. Like tweaking the signal thread on a spider's web," he spun around, arms spread wide, "This dream realm is the ultimate web and I hear every call." The skies started to darken further, the storms focusing on their position. The wind had turned cold, a wetness in the air. Discord sighed while staring off into the distance, "Yes, even you." Civil got the feeling Discord was not referring to him.

Discord turned to Civil. "While I do enjoy these little chinwags, other forces inconvenience me. Treat your mother well. Not many get second chances, or first ones...." He began fading.

Civil reached out with a hoof, "Wait! What spells!? What happened to her???"

The last thing he heard was a female's voice in the rumbling of the storm, "Truth has its own inner light that will always reveal the lie for what it is...."

***

It was still in the early morning hours. They had set up a loose watch, allowing Civil to rest up and get the full healing done for the morning flight. Hot Pink watched as he kicked awake. He blinked owlishly, then checked to see that Liberty wasn't disturbed. He looked up and saw Hot watching him.

"Bad dreams?" she whispered.

"Something like that." It struck him odd that she hadn't asked him much about the foal that would be his mother. "You don't think it strange at all that my mother is...." He poked his hoof at the sleeping ball under him.

"Not at all. Given what we've dealt with already, lets just say this is par for the course. I bet there's a really good story behind it, though."

"Well that's the problem. We're trying to figure out that story. I have a feeling some older ponies might know."

"Okay, so you need help tracking down ponies. Any guesses as to who we need to contact?"

"I was thinking unicorns."

Barro snorted, slowly sitting up and yawning, "My observational skills might not be as sharp as yours, but you have one here."

Blazing's eyes came off the small leather pouch he was working on just long enough to eye them both, then he went back to his needlework. Civil glanced up and saw he could make out the trees against the lightening sky. He supposed it was wakeup time for everypony.

"Har har. I was hoping for somepony that might know about arcane magic. Heavy stuff that includes stasis spells, rejuvenation hexes..." His mirth disappeared and he swallowed, continuing quietly, "perhaps Celestia's vaults...."

The unicorn's eyes widened and he looked at Hot Pink and Barro. She shrugged and nodded to Civil while asiding to the unicorn, "He is a Royal Guard-"

"Was," interjected Civil.

She rolled her eyes. "Was-ever. I imagine you've had more access to shady stuff than we ever would," she said. Blazing nodded slowly, his project now set aside. This was far more interesting.

Civil shook out his mane and sighed irritably, "That's not how it works-"

"However it works," the unicorn stated, "it sounds like it's outside my understanding of magic. Those exclusive avenues of study would have been maintained by one of the internal branches of the EUP."

Civil frowned and asked, "Which branch?" while Hot Pink repeated the three letters. The unicorn raised a brow at her.

"Earth. Unicorn. Pegasus. The royals had various bodyguard units back before the curse."

Hot Pink replied, "Yah, I know that."

"Well," he continued, "some of the auxiliary units specialized in roles other than military," he explained. Civil wore a bored expression, remembering Basic Administration 101 required for new recruits to learn. "Some of those units were Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, the well known Wonderbolts, of course," he nodded to Civil, "and the Science Corps, if those units are still there, now." This made the 'former' guard perk up a little.

"She was trying to rebuild the school before I left Equestria, last I knew," Civil said cautiously. He tilted his head, "Celestia, I mean. You said the Science Corps? What do you know about them?"

The unicorn nodded. "If you want to know about heavy duty spellwork, they are the ones you need to find. More specifically, the Anointed Science Corps of Unicorn Engineers. I'll put my feelers out, see if any other unicorns might remember being in that group."

Civil frowned and nibbled lightly on his lip, thinking. "ASCUE. Those guys. I had asked about them briefly in my recruit days in the guard. Came across a reference to 'the Science Corps' and got curious. I never knew their whole name, so the answer I got was, 'you don't ask about them, they ask you'." He squeezed his eyes and grumbled, "They were just saying 'They ASCUE'."

"Yes," the unicorn replied sourly. "I'm a unicorn and they had a bit of a snobbish reputation beyond even my tastes. But they were at the forefront of magical advancement. If you weren't on a path to join their group, you didn't have much reason to hang around in Canterlot, though that didn't stop many of us from trying. I found my calling and left for better pastures." He glanced at the half-sewn bag he was making.

Civil was left to his thoughts, finally understanding more about the Science Corps than he ever did snooping around in his off hours back before they were all cursed.

"Internet wouldn't hurt either, Civ," Hot added, hoping to change the mood. "I'm sure if you ask around online, somepony should remember something. Maybe one of them is not so stuck up anymore, might be willing to talk to you? They'll help you put this puzzle together, I'm sure of it."

He smiled gratefully at her, seeing what she was trying to do. Then he perked up and addressed Blazing. "Oh yah, that reminds me. Do you mind if you try to mend this? My cousin gave it to me...and there was an accident." He reached into his bag and pulled out the two pieces of the sticker he had ripped apart while back.

The unicorn peered at it, then shrugged, "Looks easy enough." His horn glowed and the two pieces melded together into one whole sticker, just as new as the day Vanessa purchased it in a fangirl flurry of pride. "There." It floated back to Civil's hoof.

He looked at it. Not a single imperfection. It might have even been restored to its original quality. "Wow...my cousin will be happy to see this. Hope my mother's memories are just as easily restored."

"We can only hope," murmured Liberty.

***

Barro and Blazing had just about flown out of sight as Civil, Hot Pink, and Liberty's route took their group in another direction. Well, Barro was doing the flying. Blazing hung comfortably from the makeshift net of straps he had devised. Until New Beginnings had their supply of chariots up enough to start exporting at a national level, he was selling underslung nets left and right back home. In addition to holding other ponies, they could be quite useful for bulk cargo and even humans, if one had the wing strength to haul the weight. Blazing had gone down the list of useful applications he had devised, from medical transport to construction for non-unicorn movers, but Civil merely smiled, happy for his fellow pony's success.

Civil's wing had healed up nicely, even the stiffness working its way out once they were in the air and putting it through its paces. Center had processed their flight plans without issue. That was always a blessing. All of them had passed over the navaid that signified a split in their routes and they headed in slightly separate directions, saying their final goodbyes to each other.

While Blazing was free to take a nap, though not likely since he didn't care for being hung at 35,000 feet, Liberty was having the time of her life. This time she was out in the sunlight instead of a musty old saddle bag (it was brand new you ignorant-!) soaking up that rad vitamin D, her words, and waving her hooves in the air like she didn't care. She was even singing that line from a song and he was doing his level best to avoid a singalong. Not that he hated singalongs...mostly. He had other things to consider at the moment.

Celestia. Vaults. ASCUE. Discord. Liberty might have other family members around, but without knowing her family name, he had very little to go on. If the Solar Wind had done a good enough job scrubbing records of her life prior to whatever event won her a free statue, it would be up to somepony out there to step forward and volunteer the information.

Unless I get off my plot and go out there myself, he thought. He supposed he could visit some conventions, despite the danger to any attendees these days. Oh yeah, he remembered darkly, have to call that couple once they got home, now that Liberty SHOULD be able to access her phone. Something else wormed its way into his thinking. A job. Granted, he knew his human parents would help him out anyway they could, but it felt wrong to mooch off them any more than he had to. That meant getting a job so he could pay his own way into conventions, unless he got celebrity access. That meant stage time.

Fuck that.

Yeah, he thought to himself, I'm going to need a job. He seethed out a long sigh.

"Oi yer brooding again. Stop that." Turning his head slightly, he spotted Liberty out of the corner of his eye. Her forelegs were crossed and she was no longer enjoying herself, which meant she was going to start harassing him. Perfect.

"What's on your mind Civ?" Hot Pink slid closer on his left. She had initially took station on that side to monitor his wing on the way back, something he was well aware of, and appreciatively of as well.

"Life," he said over the wind. "The future. Looking for a job." He could have dumped all the other concerns on them, but he didn't trust his own mouth to keep his dreams and Discord out of the discussion, or the murders. Those were things he definitely needed to work out before alarming anypony else over.

"Oh yeah, your momsis mentioned that," replied Hot.

"....momsis?" He glanced at her incredulously. "We're going there now? And when did this discussion about my personal life happen?"

She grinned, not the least bit offended by his touchiness. "When we were chatting on the phone. You were there, weren't you?"

He spared a glance back at Liberty before he said, "...eh, not really, I suppose. But that stone isn't giving up any blood."

The two mares exchanged bewildered expressions.

He explained, "A job. Me finding something to do with my life. Remember?" Glanced back at his flank. "Can't squeeze blood out of a stone."

"Oh that? Hon, nobody is judging. At least in this world. And I wouldn't sweat the job search. Shouldn't be too hard as a pony. Unique skills." She glided a few seconds to brush her wingtip against his before resuming her flapping.

He snorted back. "What, flying? Delivering a few small packages or courier mail? Yeah, that might be swell for some young intern back in Equestria, but they've got drones here, and you don't have to pay a drone."

"Courier?" asked Hot.

He nodded and glanced behind him meaningfully, "My mother used to do it when she was young. Said it was a minor intern assignment to build up experience later on."

"Me?" Liberty leaned forward. This was new.

"Yeah." He shrugged, briefly glancing behind to give her a self-deprecating smile, "You mentioned it a long time ago. No, you didn't say much more about it. Anyway," he refocused forward again, "I checked into that, no ponies needed at this time. Too much liability for untried 'technologies,' they had the balls to tell me. I get Blazing has those nets...but hauling freight is not for me. And they don't need navigators in the Air Force or anywhere else, checked that too. I have a lot of skills and interests, but...it's like they say, I'm a jack of all trades, master of nothing." He growled out that last word through gritted teeth.

"Master of none, hon," Hot replied in a low voice. She and Liberty traded glances. "Who is they?"

"People...when I was a person. And...a lot of ponies before that. Story of my life."

Hot Pink's face took on a very neutral pose. She said levelly, "I don't say that."

"You are different," he replied, then clamped shut when he realized what he just said.

"Oh?" she smiled. "I'm so different from normal ponies?"

"That's not what I meant." Now he was staring straight ahead, cheeks red. Liberty was enjoying this, so in a rare moment in history, she was keeping her trap shut.

"Uh huh. So, while doing these job searches, has anything grabbed your interest? Blown your mind, made your heart race?" He glanced over to see Hot's eyebrows wiggling.

Civil rolled his eyes. "Nothing grabs my interest. I think I am worse off now than when Celestia kicked me out." He meant to mumble that last bit but she still picked it up in the wind.

One look at Liberty was all it took for Hot to nod and say authoritatively, "Seems to me you need to 'shake things up.' "

Liberty started humming, "shake things up, shake things up..."

Percussion started playing, cymbals, snare drum and claps. Both mares had their heads bobbing now.

Civil's wings began beating to the rhythm of their own accord. He muttered, "We're doing this, aren't we?"

"Oh yeah, we are doing this," grinned Hot Pink, weaving back and forth, settling back to his right.

"But what about copyright-"

"Oh please, I know the rules. Artistic license sweety." She shook out her mane and rolled up and over him back to his left.

"♪ I fly way too high. ♪" She sang and soared up higher.

"♪ There's nothing in the sky. ♪" She looked around and spotted them.

"♪ That's what ponies say. ♪" Hot came back down, grinning.

"♪ Mmm mmm. ♪" Liberty hummed.

"♪ That's what ponies say. ♪" She stared at Civil.

"♪ Mmm mmm. ♪" Liberty hummed again.

"♪ I've got way too many skills. ♪" She giggled, her wingtips flaring into sparklers while rolling to make corkscrew contrails.

"♪ Enjoy way too many thrills. ♪" Then she crossed his path and he had to weave through the smoke.

"♪ At least that's what humans say. ♪"

"♪ Mmm mmm. ♪" Liberty hummed.

"♪ That's what humans say. ♪" Hot shrugged at Civil.

"♪ Mmm mmm. ♪" Liberty hummed.

"♪ But I keep flying, ♪" Shaking her head no.

"♪ Can't stop won't stop trying. ♪" Hot flew backwards ahead of him, pointing at them both.

"♪ It's like I've got these, ♪"

"♪ Pony friends, by my side saying, ♪" She drifted close, muzzle to muzzle without touching,

"♪ You're gonna be alright. ♪" Civil looked away, slightly embarrassed as he tasted her cinnamon breath.

"♪ Cause the ponies gonna pone pone pone pone pone.♪" She started dancing in the sky. Yes, dancing.

"♪ And the phonies gonna phone phone phone phone phone. ♪" She zipped by, taking videos with her phone.

"♪ Baby, you just gotta shake shake shake shake shake ♪"

"♪ Shake things up. ♪" The mares sang in unison. "♪ Shake things up! ♪"

Civil shook his head, pulling out his wallet.

"♪ But the takers gonna take take take take take, ♪" He threw his wallet in the air, which Liberty angrily caught and shoved back in his bags, dismayed.

"♪ And there's nothing I can make make make make make ♪" He held up his hooves, looking down at them.

Hot Pink grabbed both his hooves and held them in hers, eyes locked with his.

"♪ Baby, you just gotta shake shake shake shake shake ♪"

"♪ Shake things up, shake things up. ♪"

Liberty cleared her throat and sang:

"♪ I've seen he perseveres, ♪" She was straining against the straps, "♪ Despite his deep dark fears, ♪"

"♪ And that's what they don't know ♪" She nodded as he looked back at her, "♪ Mmm-mmm ♪"

"♪ And that's what you will show ♪" She patted the saddle confidently, "♪ Mmm-mmm ♪"

"♪ You've fought through many wars, now you want to work in stores ♪" Liberty sang.

"♪ And that's just not for you, noo-noo ♪"

"♪ There's better stuff to do, Ooh-ooh! ♪" Somehow Liberty had pulled out the want ads from a newspaper she had hidden away, but he rolled, causing the paper to whip away in the wind.

"♪ So just keep flying, ♪" Hot Pink watched the paper fly away, then regarded Civil. "♪ Don't stop won't stop trying ♪"

"♪ It's like you've got these pony friends, by your side saying ♪" She flew closer.

"♪ You're gonna be alright. ♪" Then she shoulder bumped Civil and sang, along with Liberty:

"♪ Cause the ponies gonna pone pone pone pone pone ♪"

"♪ And the humans gonna moan moan moan moan moan ♪"

"♪ Baby, you just gotta shake shake shake shake shake ♪"

"♪ Shake things up! ♪" Sang Liberty.

"♪ Shake things up! ♪" Sang Hot, nodding back.

"♪ So I just gotta try try try try try ♪" Sang Civil.

"♪ But don't forget to fly fly fly fly fly ♪" Sang Hot Pink.

"♪ Then you might get somethin right right right right right ♪" Sang Liberty, which got her a jostling from Civil.

"♪ Shake things up shake things up! ♪" They all sang, and continued to sing:

"♪ Shake things up, shake things up! ♪" Then Civil solo'd, "♪ I gotta...shake things up, shake things up ♪"

"♪ You gotta...shake things up, shake things up, ♪" responded Hot, "♪ Shake things up, shake things up! ♪"

"Hay hay hay!" Liberty yelled out, to...nobody in particular. "Just think while you've been wasting time moaning and groaning about me being dead and gone, you could have been wowing the heads of all....those...job headhunters!" He glared back at her. Oh, HE was the audience.

He groaned loudly as she held up a hoof, all haughty like.

"My grown son got a new girlfriend," she said shaking her hoof back and forth.
"She's like 'Oh my, Civil!' " Hot Pink grinned slyly.
"But I'm just gonna laugh!"
"And to the mare over thare," :P
"With that sick pink hair," Hot Pink 'who me?'d to herself, as if she didn't know.
"Won't you come over here, baby,"
"Pick me UP...NO.....FEAR......." She had unbuckled the straps and was standing up on her rear legs, waving to Pink, who grinned ear to ear and slid into position above Civil. Upside down.

Liberty grabbed onto Hot's saddlebags and they slowly floated higher. tte foal dangled by her forelegs and started yelling while para-Hot-Pink-gliding,

"♪ Yeeaah oooooohhhh!!!!" ♪" Liberty's voice rang out.

"♪ Cause the ponies gonna, ♪" Hot Pink continued singing, "♪ pone pone pone pone pone. ♪"

"♪ And the humans gonna moan moan moan moan moan. ♪"

"♪ Baby, you just gotta shake shake shake shake shake. ♪"

"♪ Shake things up. ♪" The mares sang, "♪ shake things up. ♪"

"♪ So I just gotta"♪ Try try try try try. ♪" ♪" Civil chimed in,

"♪ But don't forget to ♪" Hot sang back to him, "♪ fly fly fly fly fly ♪"

"♪ Then you might get somethin right right right right right ♪" Liberty added, now handstanding on Hot Pink's back since she rolled right side up.

"♪ Shake things up ♪" All three sang, "♪ shake things up! ♪"

"♪ Shake things up, shake things up! ♪"

"♪ I gotta...shake things up, shake things up ♪" Civil responded.

"♪ You gotta...shake things up, shake things up, ♪" The mares answered back.

"♪ Shake things up, shake things up! ♪" All three ponies chorused,
"♪ Shake things up, shake things up! ♪"
"♪ I've got to, shake things up shake things up! ♪"

"♪ You have to ♪"

"♪ Shake things up, shake things up! ♪"
"♪ Shake things up, SHAKE THINGS UP! ♪"

The music faded. Liberty was standing right side up now on Hot Pink's back as the trumpet peel ended. She suddenly realized what the hell she was doing and threw herself low, grabbing hold of the tassels on Hot's bags. The older mare smiled, keeping an eye on the little one and slowly moved close to Civil. He leaned in close so the saddle seat was next to Liberty. She jumped into the seat and quickly strapped in again as he regained some of the altitude they all lost while getting her 'reseated.'

The words of the song stuck with him, Harmony doing its thing like it always has. He was content to fly quietly the rest of the way, now more at peace than he had been for a long time. His mother could feel the tension had left his muscles, so she was content.

Hot Pink saw he had taken the song to heart, and there was no baby pegasus falling to her doom either, so she was content to enjoy their company in the peaceful blue skies back to Texas.

***

"Hi mom! It's me, your daughter. From another world...but I was talking earlier. And after, but I lied because I didn't talk."

She blinked at the red painted door. Then she muttered, "Stupid...stupid."

Liberty was mumbling to herself while they stood in front of their parents' front door. "What are we going to tell her?" Her voice was very small now. Not the belting peals of mareness they had experienced earlier in the skies. Not even the baby foalness of her youth. This was the voice of a nervous little girl that knew she was before judgement.

"You have to tell the truth." Civil didn't see what the big deal was. And seeing her squirm after all the shit she had put him through in the past would be fun, too.

"But then she won't treat me like a baby anymore," she whined.

He snorted and looked back at her, still nestled on his saddle. "Really, you're still gonna go with the attention getting act?"

"You don't get it! It was...like...." She sat back and tapped the bottoms of her hooves together.

He sighed and felt her pain, "I get it. Like when they paid you all the attention in the world and you didn't owe them anything but a smile. Everypony wants that kind of love and attention from their parents."

"Exactly."

Hot Pink stepped closer, pointing her wing to the door, "Liberty, if she is the kind of mother that can raise decent humans like you two, she will continue to pay attention to you. Good mothers do that." Liberty glanced at Hot and smiled her thanks. Civil nodded to Hot and turned to the door, raising his hoof.

Three knocks rang on the wooden door, his not so new shoes adding a similar oomph as last time. Not too hard to alarm the occupants inside, yet loud and confident enough to not sound strange. There was so much one could communicate in knocking on another's door. This time he was NOT trying to communicate that there were three TALKING ponies at the door, instead of the expected one and a half talking ponies that were expected.

Please don't let there be coffee this time, he thought.

Now, Death of a Salesman

There, the knocking was done. Like vagabond salesmen...salesponies, they waited for the door to open and introduce his friend to his parents...along with working in a talking foal in there somewhere, too. Unless she sold him out and blabbed about certain details. He rolled his eyes, figuring that was a foregone conclusion. He's faced this kind of music before, so it wouldn't be too much to weather. Civil's nostrils flared as he smelled something delectable inside.

He smiled and murmured, "My mom, she's making crepes. She loves to cook those."

Hot Pink bobbed her head, smiling. "Cool, you told her to cook for you today instead of yesterday. At least she didn't have to sit there staring at two empty places at the dinner table last night. Right?" Hot seemed very cheery at the thought of a loving mother, her lollipop stick dancing around in her mouth. Had he not been getting a horribly sick feeling just now, he would have noticed a hint of regret behind that glowing look.

As it was, Civil's eyes constricted and he slowly looked at her. She noticed the stiffening of his legs, so her eyes slid over in his direction. "What?" She asked. Noting the blood rushing from his face, her brow furrowed slightly. "You...DID message her, right?" Civil's head made the barest shakes of a 'no'. Her mouth dropped open. "Text? Call? Anything!?! CIVIL!!!"

He sputtered out, "I didn't think of it at the time!" while pulling out his phone. It was set to airplane mode. Hot leaned over to peer at it, her head very close to his. She didn't say anything and just briefly lifted her gaze to meet his, eyes displaying a mixture of disbelief and disappointment.

The lollipop stick in her mouth slowly moved over to the other side just so she could whisper, "Didn't you call me after you landed yesterday?"

He blanched. "Oh come on! After getting stuck in the ass by a needle I was not going to get stuck again, so I turned off all notifications...and...figured airplane mode was the quickest way to do that. I didn't know if I was getting back up in the air again, so...." His voice petered off when he unchecked the mode and his phone reconnected with the cell towers.

So many texts and missed calls piled up, from relatives, friends he hadn't heard from in years, his parents...more his parents. He closed his eyes shut, hearing the individual pings for each instance of text and missed phone call go off. It was like a slot machine hitting jackpot. He did not feel like a winner right now, each sound seeming to hurt more than the last.

Hot muttered, "Just fyi, the whole need for airplane mode is a myth."

Liberty quipped from behind his head, "Idiot."

The knob turned and the door swung open. Facing the music had become Deguello, the death song played by Santa Anna's troops at the Alamo.

Karen stood there with her apron on. She had been making brunch after all. Not quite noon, so it wasn't unheard of for her to be starting later in the day, which meant she had been spending the early morning hours doing other things. Several more pings sounded from his phone with just her name attached, so it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what it was she had been doing.

"I called to find out where you were and what happened to you!" Her eyes were red, voice hoarse. He felt it was too early to make a horse joke. "Those Flying Admin people said something happened. They wouldn't tell me what, but that you were okay!?"

"Federal Aviation Administ-" he began.

"I don't care what they're called! They said you had to land because of some non-emergency critical...whatever! I tried to call you but you wouldn't answer. Why didn't you answer, Jason?? And then this morning, THANK GOD someone out there has a sense of decency! They called as a courtesy to let me know you were flying again, but with another pony." She looked at Hot Pink, not knowing what to make of it all. Before Civil could respond, the woman lunged forward and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing. "Please don't ever do that again! I can't lose the two of you, you hear me?!"

He could only stand there in shock. Slowly his wings came forward to gently hug her. "I'm sorry, mom. I screwed up. There was a unicorn, two adult pegasi, needles, and a pain in the ass..."

Liberty sat up, fuming.

Hot snorted while pulling out her lollipop. She put it in its original wrapper and tucked it away in her own bag while eyeing Liberty from the side. The foal crossed her forelegs indignantly, fit to explode. Yet the diminutive creature said nothing, still not sure how to broach the topic of 'I am a talking ball of fuzz' with their mother.

After a good half minute, Karen released Civil and stepped back, wiping her eyes as she took in her two children. She noticed the foal was strapped into what appeared to be a very nicely made black leather saddle with silver accents.

She breathed, "Civil, that is the cutest thing I've ever seen! Certainly much safer looking for her than your bags." She stepped to the side as he scratched his head, still not feeling well about the whole affair. Karen nodded, "It is very handsome on you. When did you get a chance to buy that?" Liberty eyed her mother warily.

He flicked his head to the mare next to him. "She bought it for me, so Liberty could ride safely." He stepped aside and turned to Hot. "Mom, this is Hot Pink, one of the first ponies I met when I came back from Equestria. She wanted to escort us home, to make sure we got back safe. Hot, this is Karen Berringer, our mother this side of the portal."

Karen straightened, wiping her eyes with her hands, then wiping her hands off on the apron before offering one to the pony. "Oh, forgive me, I am so sorry. I wasn't ignoring you...just that, well..." She nodded to Civil and Liberty.

Hot smiled, holding out her hoof to her, "A mother's love is a mother's love. I might have mentioned it to a pony or two recently." Karen held it awkwardly and shook it, but the mare didn't mind. Civil swallowed nervously.

"Yes, well, I am truly thankful you helped them get home. I was in the middle of making brunch. After I got the phone call from those aviation people, I thought I could serve you something delicious." Glancing meaningfully at Hot, she added, "Especially for the one that helped out my babies."

She stepped into the house, leading them in.

The mare followed, leading the pony entourage in, replying, "Thankyou Mrs. Berringer, that is very sweet of you."

"Please," the woman said, "Call me Karen." They all walked into the kitchen where indeed, a plate full of crepes was piled up, along with cut fruit and different jars of jam were on the table. Two cans of whip cream stood at the ready nearby. "Help yourselves, the last of the batter is just about done."

Civil looked around and asked, "Is dad here?" Normally the man would be the first at the table.

Karen nodded, going back to the stove to finish up with the last of the batter in a skillet. "He went for a walk. You know him. Had one of his funny feelings yesterday morning and wouldn't sit still until that call came in today. By the way, what did happen up there? They were very closed lipped about your detour."

Hot Pink had the good grace of not wanting to impose in getting food first, so she sat back. She also sensed there was more to this topic and didn't want to rock the boat.

Civil, on the other hoof, looked like a deer staring down a hunter that hadn't seen him yet. What was he going to say, that he dropped his newborn mother/sister? That he nearly fell out of the sky himself!? His ears twitched while he wracked his brain for some kind of explanation.

That is when in a rare moment of absolute sibling loyalty, the little tyke on his back rang out, "Goo goo gaa gaa!" while waving her hooves over her head from his saddle.

Karen dropped the spatula in shock, staring at them, "She can talk! Her first words!" Then she swept over and gently hugged the foal. "I can't believe she can talk so soon! I thought it would be a few weeks at least." He used his wings to help her release the foal from the saddle, and once again Liberty found herself in the loving arms of her mother, cooing, though this time she was trying to ignore the quirky look Civil was giving her. Karen cooed back, "Your first words..."

He muttered, "They were more like 'stupid' and 'asshole' if I remember correctly."

Karen glanced up, perplexed, "What was that, dear?"

He winced, then looked at Liberty, who actually had a pained look on her face when she stared back at him. Finally, the foal gave him a small nod, her eyes tearing up. He growled to himself, "Dammit." He took a deep breath and looked his mother in the eye. "Mom, we have something to tell you. I need you to be calm before I tell you this. Can you do that?"

She nodded slowly, looking back and forth between the foal and her son warily. "Okay," she said slowly. Karen wasn't sure she could take more surprises from her children. The whole concept of 'surprise' was not her thing, never has been.

He continued, "All right. Well, it would seem that pony shi...stuff continues to happen. And...Liberty here...." He stumbled, feeling like he was betraying the foal, but she saved him anyway.

"Hi, mom," Liberty said quietly, bracing for the inevitable drop of a rejecting parent.

Karen stared down at her. Her gaze did harden a little, but it passed quickly. "You can talk," she said softly.

Looking up at her, Liberty nodded, "Yes."

Raising her brow, her mother asked, "When did you start talking?" Her tone was that of someone trying to get all the facts before making an appropriate emotional response. She tended to do that now and again.

"I've been talking for a little while now?" squeaked out Liberty.

"A little while. How long a little while now?" Expression unreadable. Liberty fidgeted. Under that gaze.

There was a pause as Liberty glanced away, not knowing what to do at this point. Then she wailed, "Since the beginning! At first I was scared, then I was worried you wouldn't love me anymore, and you would stop holding me and hugging me and would make me clean my room and I can't even reach the toilet and these little hooves and wings can't do anything-" She would have rambled on some more but Karen hugged her fiercely AND gently, as only mothers knew how to do.

Civil stared at them both, then looked over to Hot Pink, who he found was already spreading some jam onto a crepe at the table. She glanced up while rolling it like a thin burrito, "What? She said help ourselves, and you are dragging this out way past the interest of any self-respecting reader." He merely stared at her as she ran a line of whip cream across the top with her wing holding the can.

He turned back to the other two exasperating females in his life, only to catch Karen say, "I would hug you ANYTIME you want, my little sweety!"

"Call me your little birdy!" Liberty replied, muffled up by her mother's arms.

"Of course my little birdy! This is the best Christmas gift ever!"

Civil growled, about ready to call out Liberty for stealing his pet name, then facehooved himself. "Arg! Christmas Eve! Mom, I have to go shopping!"

Hot Pink exclaimed, "Civil! I said you don't have to get me anything!"

He held out a hoof to stop her protests while walking out of the kitchen, or attempted to, only to bump into his father who had just walked in during all the drama. "Hey, boy! You made it. You know, I had this feeling-"

"Yeah dad, I love you. Yes I know. We can talk later about the feeling." He hopped up and hugged the man, who gave him a brief hug back. When they finished, Dan saw Karen and Liberty together, with Hot Pink by the table. And the table of food.

"Sooo...what's going on?"

Civil tilted his head and said sourly, "Well, that is a friend of mine, name's Hot Pink. Liberty can talk now. Food is ready, and I have to go Christmas shopping because I got ambushed by early gifts." Hot said something but he flat out ignored her.

Dan's face lit up. "Liberty can talk? Fantastic! So the food is ready, right?" Civil's eye twitched and he walked past his father, heading for the front door.

"You people are all insane," they heard him muttered to himself before the door opened and slammed shut. Once outside, he madly searched the internet online. He knew mares liked flowers, chocolate and jewelry. But what to get somepony that has done so much for him in so little time, with so little time left to repay her. And for the record that whole 'You don't have to do anything for me' bit is a TRAP! Every stallion knows that, even Civil. Which meant he had to pull something off. Come on, think, Civil, think.

There! Those looked perfect. He checked the contact information. Damn, Florida. One glance at Google maps approximated a two hour flight there and another two back. Hoping against hope, he dialed the number. It rang several times but finally picked up. "Hello, Lost Galleon, Dante Edwards speaking." Sweet, the owner.

"Hi Dante, my name is Civil Patrol. I know this is absolutely last minute shopping, but is there any way I can make a purchase of that Athena Stater pendant? Item 3815?"

There was a minute of silence, but his ears picked up some keyboard use in the background. "Yes, it's still available, but I don't think it will get to you in time, even if we were to same-day ship it, unless you are local."

Civil grinned, bingo. "Oh I can get very local. I noticed you use a P.O. box for mailing purposes. I assume you are a .com business operating out of your home in Maitland?"

The man's reply was a little hesitant. "That is correct, but I have to assure you, we don't keep the artifacts at the house. They are secure in a bank vault-"

"Wait, hold up," Civil interrupted. He should have known asking about their business would make the owner nervous. "I'm not here to rob you or anything. I can fly there in two hours, pay you on the spot. That's all I'm asking for." He sighed and said plaintively, "Please, I need to do this. The recipient, she swooped down just like Athena and saved my ass. The very least I can do is make a physical memory of it for her to keep."

There was a very pregnant pause on the other end. Civil almost thought Dan had hung up on him, but then the man asked, "Civil Patrol is your name? You wouldn't happen to be a pony, would you?"

This again? He gritted his teeth. "Yes, does that make a difference?"

"No no, I was just thinking...this girlfriend you are buying this for-"

"She's not my girlfriend! Just a really good friend," Civil groused.

"Uh huh, this lady type friend who you are about to drop a couple thousand on, she is a winged pony? Are you both pegasus ponies?"

Civil looked around, swearing he was on Candid Camera. "Yeah...why?"

The man laughed on the other end. "I just think it's funny, like, awesome funny. A pegasus giving another pegasus an ancient coin with a pegasus on it. Hell, that just made my holiday. Look, I'll text you my address. Two hours you said? That should give me enough time to get to the vault and back. Cool?"

The pony worked his jaw a few seconds, then answered, "Yeah, I think."

"Gotcha. See you in a few hours." click.

Civil blinked at the phone and muttered, "What the fuck was that all about?" He started to doubt the man had taken him seriously until he received a text message from the phone number he had just dialed. Sure enough, it was a residential address in Maitland, Florida.

It was a quaint house in the suburbs, its lawn littered with dead leaves from barren trees in the front.

He tapped on the door tentatively with his hoof. His last few experiences with doors had been harrowing at best, so he was hoping that, third time's the charm, he wouldn't be causing someone mental trauma.

It opened, revealing a tall man with a healthy tanned physique. He had the weathered look of someone well travelled, probably late 30's.

"Hello! You must be Mr. Patrol. Do you prefer the full name? Or...?" He held out his hand, seeming friendly enough.

Civil reached out and the man shook his hoof. "Civil is fine. I hope I didn't ruin your evening over this."

The man stepped back, laughing. "Nonsense! Having a pony visitor makes it that much more special. Please, come in. I'm Dante, though you probably know that from the website."

Civil nodded and followed him into the house. They made their way down the hallway and to a side office. Civil briefly got a glimpse of the living room where the family had their own tree set up with a pile of presents underneath. He knew Dante had a family because they were sitting on the couch. A smiling wife with eyes darting nervously to two very eager young girls that were having trouble remaining seated. Obviously some words had been said before he arrived. He nodded to them before entering the office after the man.

"Are they okay in there?" Civil asked.

Dante chuckled and sat down behind an antique desk. "Yes. As you might suspect, having a pony visit for Christmas is every little girl's dream. And I have three girls in there. Two officially young, and one still young at heart. If the rumors are true and you used to be a human, I figured you wanted to continue being treated as one and not a sideshow attraction. My wife and I sat the girls down and had a short discussion. Then I had a discussion with my wife."

Civil, who had been glancing back toward the door wondering if he was going to get stormed by a girl gang, turned to see a twinkle in Dante's eye. He grimaced slightly, "Yeah, thankyou for the consideration. This whole curse crap sort of blurred the lines when it comes to discovering who you really are. Being fawned over because of your looks isn't as endearing as some might think."

The man nodded, "I can see where that would wear on someone. Just don't go being a complete recluse. Having someone dote on you has its rewards."

Rolling his eyes in disagreement, the pegasus took a minute to look around the office. It was spacious and very well decorated, as only a treasure hunter's man cave can be. Artifacts from all over the world festooned the walls and bookcases. Old weapons, manuscripts, glass cases containing objects susceptible to moisture in the air were just a few of the things Civil could identify. There was also an old picture of a sunken galleon on the wall. A couple of sharks lazily swam nearby the wreck in the underwater crevasse. Continuing his scan, he saw a couple of coins, old doubloons, framed on the mantel. He lingered on them for a time.

"You like old coins?"

Blinking, Civil turned back to Dante and shrugged. "When I was a kid, one of my favorite movies was The Goonies. I was remembering when they were using a doubloon to locate the old inn."

Shaking his head, Dante pulled out a small box and slid it across the desk to Civil. "That is an old movie. Not as old as this item, but 1980's old."

Civil chuckled as he reached for the box. "What can I say, good classics are good. I had always imagined I'd come across a cave or something...when I was flying..." He sat up and frowned, staring at the box.

"What is it? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Civil looked up, "It's weird...I was curious about exploring before I was human...and I guess when I first saw that movie play on a regular cable station as a kid, it spoke to me. The traps wouldn't have scared me, and I certainly would have stood up to the Fratellis. I guess I've always had to deal with bullies at some level." He pushed open the lid to the box and gazed at the item inside.

It was a pendant, as requested. The piece that the jewelry was centered around was a silver stater coin, a flying pegasus on one side and the head of Athena wearing a Spartan style helmet on the reverse side. He turned it back over and gently touched the pegasus with his hoof.

"I take it you like it? Check, credit card or cash, I'm set up to handle any of those. Or online if you use a particular service."

Without taking his eyes off the pendant, Civil reached into his bag at the side of the chair, fished out his credit card and put it on the desk. He hesitated, a feeling of worry coming over him. Was this too much? Certainly there were other ways to thank her for what she has done for him so far.

He thought back to that night in the bar. And the next morning. She had done a lot more for him, and he knew it. He also knew that this worry wasn't so much whether or not it was too much or enough. It was the meaning behind it all. She had told him to get back to her when he changed his mind about relationships. "Is this opening a door, or a floodgate?" He muttered to himself. Was he even ready for this?

"A bit of advice, from one treasure hunter to another. If you find something so rare and unique that you are not to see its like again, don't let it go. Keep it, cherish it." The man sat back and sighed, smiling. "Treasure it."

Civil looked up, a weak smile on his muzzle as he realized he spoke his thoughts out loud again.He tilted his head slightly, asking, "You aren't talking about the pendant...are you?"

The man glanced at a picture of his wife and daughters on the desk, then back at Civil. "No, I'm not."

The pegasus nodded. "I hear you." He gently hefted the jewelry box in one hoof as he closed it with the other, letting go of the credit card. "I try, you know? I really do." Civil considered the possibility of bringing a herd of his own into this world, since, you know, he couldn't very wall go making peggies in a world he was banished from. And yet, in the twenty five years as a human and the last couples as a pegasus, he had seen the horrible side of humanity. Dare he let something pure blossom in this dessert of reality?

He squeezed his eyes shut, a wave of pain washing over him. "I've seen things...I continue to see things, and hear them on the news, or from other people, and they make me jaded. I find more reasons to frown in this world than smile." He opened his eyes and stared at the human. "It's like...the more truths I come to understand, the more bitter I feel and one day..." He lowered his voice, "...one day, I may never smile again because I will know too much of the truth. I'm not sure bringing a herd...a...pony family, into that is for the best."

Dante stood up, a dubious expression on his face. "Here's another bit of advice. Lighten up. Sure there's going to be shit in the world, we humans have been dealing with that for centuries. Dare say you guys have too, if you are having to fight monsters and mythical horrors." Noticing Civil's surprise, he nodded. "Did some research on ponies while I was waiting for your arrival. The stories you guys have brought back are fantastic, to say the least." He stepped around the desk and lightly placed his hand over the box Civil was holding.

"You have to remember, these things take some of the bitterness out of life. Those you decide to gift them to, they make life worth living, even in this world. ESPECIALLY in this world that needs you ponies more than anything else to show us the best of humanity. I won't pretend to know what you have dealt with so far, but you seem to have a good heart. Follow it. Even if you make mistakes, you'll know you are being true to yourself. And you might just make this world less horrible, which my family will happily thank you for." Dante tapped a finger on the credit card, eyeing Civil. The pegasus nodded and placed the box into his bags. Dante picked up the card and took out his phone, which had a credit card adapter on it. He made the transaction and handed the card back.

Civil couldn't help but chuckle, pondering the man's words. That was something he might have heard Celestia saying during his early days as a guard. Dante walked over to the door and Civil took his cue to stood up as well and follow. He noticed the man's wife was still in the living room holding back their teenage daughters with everything short of calling off Santa's visit should they disobey her and rush him. Dante glanced between him and the front door and shrugged, "It's up to you. Again, we usually don't have customers show up here, and we've never had a visitor of your...heh, persuasion?"

Civil had to laugh and shook his head, "Yeah you could call it that. Taking the bitterness out of life, right?" Dante grinned and nodded. "I don't mind spending a few more minutes, but I have to get back to that lady type friend of mine."

Dante sighed in relief, hoping he hadn't insulted his first ever pony customer. Raising his voice he said, "It's okay, girls. He said only a few minutes so try not to crowd him too much-"

You'd have thought someone had brought the all-you-can-eat ice cream truck in the dead of summer to a daycare center. The two girls were over in a heartbeat, hugging and petting him while bombarding him with questions. Yes, they could pet him, after the fact. No they couldn't mess with his wings, he actually needed those to get back home. QUIT asking about the saddle! He forgot to take it off and it wasn't meant for riding anyway. Except for his mom/sister- NO he was so not getting into THAT subject. Yes ancient pegasus civilization had strong similarities to Greek culture, with some Roman here and there.

That really piqued Dante's interest. "I know you have to go, but I have a ton of questions regarding ancient pony culture. Would you email me sometime or call? I would really appreciate that. I could offer discounts for you and other ponies."

Civil pushed his head out from between the girls to regard him with surprise. "You are that interested in us?"

The man waved his arm around, taking in the decor of the house. There were less items in the living room, but Civil did spot some Greek artifacts. Remembering old cities from Equestrian history class, some of them would have fit right in with pegasus culture. "Look around. The artwork, the history. I've been treasure hunting for over twenty years. You are a living link to the past." He held up his hand to Civil's coming rebuttal, "Even if you don't remember it all, just to talk to a winged horse after, well, up until a few years ago you guys were nothing but myths and legends! Come on, who wouldn't be interested!?"

Civil nodded, letting the horse comment go. That would be the first historical correction he'd make with the man, though now would be improper, given the nature of the word and the proximity of the juveniles. "Sure, I think I can do that." He slowly extricated himself from the young mob of two. "Anything to help pony-human relations."

The flight back was not as stressful since he had accomplished his mission. He stopped off at the mall, quickly purchased a dozen roses, trotted to the Godiva store, made the outrageous request to have said roses dipped in chocolate. He had the feeling they only obliged him because he was a pony. And he claimed that his kind ate flowers so it wouldn't be against any FDA regulations they might be worried about. They didn't know whether he was serious or joking...about anything he had said up to this point. He didn't care. Getting back up in the air, it was a short hop to the house.

He got back in the early evening, closed out his flight plan and walked inside. The aromas of a fine Christmas dinner assaulted his senses. He could smell all manner of foods, like buttered carrots, cranberry sauce, corn, potatoes, melted marshmallows on mashed sweet potatoes, ham (oh shit! wait, nevermind, pork was alright), lobster (holy shit! she made lobster!!!) all of it prepared and waiting on the table, minus beef of course. Karen had kept a list of what not to serve pegasus ponies. And both his parents and said ponies were waiting expectantly for him at the table.

To his confused pause, Karen explained, "I hope you don't mind, we invited your friend to stay. We also had a long conversation while you decided to fly to Florida." Hot Pink twisted around in her seat with a surreptitious smile. The womenfolk had been talking about him again. Great. His father, sitting at the table with his own look of innocence, wasn't helpful either. Civil climbed up into his seat and hesitated.

"Wait, how did you know I went to...nevermind." Concerned mother, FAA phone calls, tracking.

"There is a flight path tracking tool I showed her, for the future, if that was okay with you-" Hot tried to explain, but he held up a hoof, then lowered it quickly. He really shouldn't be doing that quite so often with her.

"It's alright," he said quietly. "I should have said something. Had a lot on my mind and it's nopony else's fault but mine."

"I think on this evening, we can put transgressions behind us and enjoy each other's company," Karen said. She looked around at them and smiled, the stress leaving her features. "Now that we are all seated at the table, we can begin. Dear?" She turned to Dan.

He nodded and held out his hands to either side. Karen held his on her left and Liberty's hoof on her right. The foal was sitting on the table. Civil snorted to himself, making a mental note not to try and not stab her mistakenly when he went for the dish of lobster tails in front of her. He reached out to touch her hoof and held out his right to Hot's, who held his and back to Dan's hand. He gave a nice prayer, thanking the Lord for their food, their family's health and for all of them being able to share each other's company on such a prestigious evening.

Then they began to eat, with dishes being passed around and requests aplenty.

"Miss...Pink is it?" Karen asked after several minutes later.

"Hot Pink, or Hots, Pinks, Pink, or HP...but that's like a Lovecraft thing." The mare smirked slightly. Dan got the joke, but few others at the table did.

"Pink then. I know the three of you are originally from Equestria, but did you grow up as a human, like these two?"

Civil continued eating, listening while Hot replied, "Yes, I did, in Lubbock actually."

Dan asked, "Texas, Lubbock? I figured you for west coast or something." At Hot's raised eyebrow, he added, "The accent. It slips in and out."

She smirked while eyeing Civil, "West coast, best coast."

"It's not best coast," Civil muttered back, eyes rolling.

"Keep telling yourself that, hon. But, that's west coast Equestria." Turning back to Dan, she continued, "My human part is Texan. Great state to claim home away from home I suppose."

His family members nodded in agreement and seemed content with her response. Civil felt his curiosity rise and asked, "You said you were from out west, in Equestria? That's where you learned the bar trick then-"

Liberty blurted out, "Bar trick!?! You went to a real bar, Civil?" She made it sound like he had done the impossible. He grimaced at her.

Karen obligingly shushed the foal, "Hush you, I want to hear this." She scratched Liberty's head to take some of the sting off her rebuke.

Hot shrugged, "I did say out west, yes. I should have said Equestrian side back at the hotel." She began to pick at her food on the plate. "Ponies could get a little pushy out west." Her normally jovial sense of self faded as thoughts of her old home came to her.

Karen asked delicately, "If you don't mind my asking, what was the place called, in Equestria? Was it a town, or a village? Are there cities or villages there?"

Hot gave her a small smile and said, "They have all of those. My point of origin is Las Pegasus."

Civil winced. He pointedly avoided making eye contact with Hot now. Damn, she WOULD have to be from there.

Liberty piped up, "Las Pegasus? Is that like Las Vegas?"

Civil said darkly while looking out the window, "No...was like a cross between Vegas and L.A."

Hot ate quietly, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

Liberty looked between them. "Was? What, did something bad happen?" Civil wasn't giving anything away, so the foal stared at Hot.

"That depends," Hot said quietly. "Civ?"

Civil slowly turned back to Hot. He knew this was going to be hard for her, but he wasn't sure how much. So he asked, "Um...what part did you live in?"

She replied tentatively, "The upper cloud sector, but my family mostly worked on the lower cloud sector at the resort hotel, the Mareyacht. Some of them lived at the hotel."

"The Mareyacht?" He sat up. "Wow. They had hotels all over Equestria, in the most prominent sections of Manehattan, Baltimare, and Canterlot, just to name a few." So she worked at one of those hotels, Civil thought to himself...and yet...she was living in the upper cloud sector? That was posh, even for the permanent residents. Now was the rough part. "The ground level was mostly trashed by the monsters down below, but earth ponies are slowly rebuilding it. The mountain level, it remains intact and is being resettled by a mix of ponies. Well, they were starting to, once the unicorns finally untangled the hurricanes and tornadoes in the sectors above there."

Hot's face paled slightly, her jaw dropping, "...t...tornadoes...as in more than one?" She blinked and did a double-take. "HURRICANES?!?"

Civil nodded. "I'm sorry. It would appear Discord wrote his name in the sky using all the clouds and building materials up there to sustain the tornadoes. Formed into letters. With bordering counter-spinning hurricanes to frame his artwork, in case nopony noticed the tornadoes." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Guess he had his own idea of a fun loving resort in the sky." He saw the devastation on her face and smiled, "But look on the bright side, you don't have to work at a hotel anymore, right? You can shake things up here!"

She smiled slightly and wiped a tear away, murmuring, "Shake things up...shake things up." She asked in a lower voice, "Do you know if any other Mareyachts survived, anywhere?" He shook his head no, though he looked a little bewildered. Did she really want to work at those hotels that badly? Then she said, almost too imperceptible for him to pick up, "That's it then. It's all gone."

He frowned, asking, "I...don't understand. What is all gone? Just your house, right? Your work place? I mean, you can find work here, can't you?"

She shook her head, "No, Civil dear. I didn't work at the hotel or live there. My...herd had worked quite diligently to make sure I wouldn't have to work, but that I would eventually manage the hotel when they retired. You see I...well, I was to inherit the entire chain of Mareyacht hotels. The brand, the fortune. Everything." There was stunned silence around the table. She looked at them and shrugged. "My father Land Yacht was always concerned about whether or not I'd be taken care of. I kind of figured there might be something back there left behind for me, if nothing else but to help him achieve his wish. If what you say is true...well, I suppose it really is time to shake things up. I'm not so spoiled that I don't know what hard work is."

She went back to eating. After a minute, she saw they were still staring at her. She swallowed and said, "I didn't mean to upset anypony. I dealt with the possibility of it all being gone a while ago, when my memories started to come back. Now, thankyou Civil, I don't have to worry about Equestria anymore. I live on Earth."

Civil nodded, though he didn't continue eating. He knew it was going to be bad news to her when she mentioned Las Pegasus. He just didn't know it was that bad. He shouldn't have said anything, he thought darkly.

Karen smiled and said, "That is a very healthy attitude to take, Pink." She reached over and gently touched her foreleg. Hot nodded a thank you. "So, Lubbock. That is where you live now, in Lubbock?"

Hot blinked and shook her head, "No. Now I stay in Frontier, near Odessa. Granted, it's not as built up as other parts of Texas, but it has a lot of ponies there. Not to sound racially motivated, but it's a very real thing to be near other ponies and feel comfortable. A herding thing you could say. That and I'm hoping sooner or later some members of my herd swing by there. It would be nice to see a few more faces I remember."

Civil raised his brow in thought. "Frontier, is that what they are calling the town now?" He was also glad they were changing the subject.

She nodded and said, "Yep. They approved the name only a few days ago, right before you called, in fact. Had a town hall and put it to a vote. Figured everypony wanted a cross between New Beginnings and the wild west, with it being in Texas."

Civil rolled it around in his head. "The town of Frontier." He smiled. "I like it."

Just then, Liberty gave the cutest little burp, making Karen laugh and coo down at her, "Liberty, where are your manners?" The damn little thing had the gall to smile sweetly up at her while her mother dabbed the foal's mouth with a napkin. Apparently he wasn't the only one that was a messy eater.

Civil muttered, "Oh, now we are just all sorts of noises, aren't we?"

Karen perked up, "Oh yes, you did say you were talking from the beginning." She looked down again at Liberty curiously, "I know you said from the beginning but I don't remember hearing anything. Was Civil the first one to hear you?" Liberty nodded. Karen patted her head reassuringly. "So what made you start talking? Was it during the flight back? Did it bring back memories or something?"

Liberty's ears folded back and all silliness fled her like smoke on the wind. "Well...I guess on the way home I sort of found my voice." She giggled nervously, quickly glaring at Civil, "Hehehe you know how turbulence can 'throw' you around. Guess it 'dislodged' something, you know?"

He saw where this was going and put down his fork, or tried to, but it was still velcroed to his hoof. He slipped it off with some effort, grousing, "She is very articulate, isn't she?....almost like she could have been speaking from birth if she had wanted to, instead of crapping everywhere."

"Yeah? Want to hear a keening wail? I got some good practice back there when-"

"When what!?! You were learning to cloud walk on your bottom or go googoo or gaagaa-?"

"Civil, Liberty, please!" Karen realized that she basically said Liberty's full name, but she shook her head anyway. "I'm sure flying that close to each other over a two day period has you both restless with each other's company....but I don't care, I have my daughter back, and my son. I truly am glad to have you here, all of you." She looked around the table at human and ponies alike.

"So are we," Civil and Liberty answered in unison, then made faces at each other. Hot Pink couldn't stop giggling.

She asked, "Are they always like this?"

Dan leaned over, "They used to be worse when they were closer to each other's age. This is going to be something else. His mother, who could be his baby, who is his sister." Civil spread his hooves out at his father.

"Come on, dad!? Give me a break!"

"I know son! Not saying it's bad. Just...pony shi-" He grunted and shifted, as if some disapproving wife had kicked him under the stable. "STUFF! I was going to say pony stuff." Slowly he stretched, rubbing his leg while not fooling anybody at the table. "Good potatoes, dear..."

She smiled back at him primly, "Thankyou, Dan."

Civil shook his head, "I give up." He grudgingly went back to eating when Karen urged him to eat up. There was more idle talk, but he didn't feel like paying attention to it much. He started looking forward to when they would get to give each other presents later that night.

***

The chocolate roses were an obvious hit. They were sitting in the living room with a fire in the hearth and a tree decked out in blinking string lights and ornaments. While the humans waved off offers of confection covered petals, Hot had to check if she still had her hoof after Liberty snapped up the petal, sitting there on Dan's head. The foal whined about not getting more, until the older mare described in full detail what chocolate can do to a week old pony's tummy. A young foal's appetite never fled so quickly before. Dan was thankful, because THAT would be rolling downhill. Then it was time for Civil to open his present from his parents. Naturally nothing was forthcoming from Liberty. Getting ponified tended to divert one's attention from Christmas shopping.

Civil received a scarf, royal blue. The material was very soft. After nuzzling it for a minute, he looked at Karen in surprise. "This isn't cotton, is it?"

She shook her head, "No. Cashmere." He was impressed, as well he should be. "I figured they couldn't have it completely wrong in those episodes if most of the ponies were wearing scarves. I didn't know if your sense of touch would change, so I went with the softest I could find."

He let the supple material glide over his wingtips. "It's perfect mom, dad. Thankyou."

He knew he was terrible with gifts, so he had opted for the dvd collection of all the My Little Pony seasons up to this date. She turned the box over a little hesitantly. "Ah, the other episodes I didn't get to see. You know, you didn't have to get us anything," she started.

Civil groaned and whined, "Really? Why is it everypony says that?"

His father swooped in for the rescue, "Because we love it anyway and want you to feel like you didn't owe us. You have been through a lot."

His human mother countered, "And being here with us is gift enough already." He bemoaned the corniness of it, despite her reiterating it was true.

Liberty chimed in, "So what took four hours, eight minutes and nineteen seconds, Civil?" He made a face at her and hooved over the box to the lovely mare sitting next to him. She pursed her lips, knowing he remembered her words, and calmly opened the box.

Hot Pink sat there stunned as she stared at the pendant nestled inside, cradled between both hooves.

Civil slid out the certificate card from his saddlebags and stated, "According to this, during the classical Greek era, Corinth was a powerful city-state in Greece where this was minted. Mmm, coin depicts Pegasus, the Greek 'mythological flying horse'..." He and Hot Pink snorted in amusement while his parents chuckled with them. Liberty didn't quite get the humor of it, "...who set foot on Earth at Corinth." He paused in thought and both adult ponies glanced at each other. "I wonder," ventured Civil to her. "Could there be a portal somewhere in Greece?"

Hot shrugged slightly, still overwhelmed. "After all this time...?" She couldn't tear her eyes away from the coin. "If it was a block of marble, who knows what building or structure it was built into, if it wasn't pulverized by now through time and war." Then she whispered, "By the Maker, Civil..."

He nodded and continued, clearing his throat. "Athena presented Bellerophon a golden bridle which he used to capture Pegasus while he paused to drink from a spring...tamed Pegasus, rode him to defeat the Chimera and the Amazons, and on the last day of his life, Zeus transformed Pegasus into a constellation."

"Sooo, all I need is a golden bridle and you'll do whatever I say," asked Liberty.

Civil leveled a stare at her, muttering, "Not funny, and already in the creepy zone."

"Aw, come on it was sorta funny," retorted Liberty defensively. Daniel scritched her head, quieting down the foal.

Civil continued reading, "The reverse side shows Athena, wearing the Corinthian helmet. She was the Greek goddess of wisdom, peace, warfare, strategy and reason. She appears in Greek mythology as a helper of many heroes, including Odysseus, Jason and Hercules. In classical myths, she never consorts with a lo...lover." He stuttered, turning a slight red. He saw he had Hot's undivided attention, so he read the next part a touch quicker. "Uh, earned the title Athena Parthenos, meaning 'Athena the.........virgin', hence the name of her most famous temple, Parthenon on the Acropolis in Athens." He quickly hooved the certificate back over to Hot, who took it gently, lest the corners get bent.

She looked back down at the pendant silently.

"Um...the whole Athena description, not that I'm implying anything, I only meant, you know," he stammered. "Not that I know anything about your vir...I'm gonna shut up now."

"Best damn decision he's made in a week," Liberty hissed in her father's ear. Daniel chuckled and hushed her anyway.

Hot Pink remained still, except for her quivering lips. "Civil...this is beautiful. You didn't need to..." She looked up at him, eyes tearing up. "This is too much."

He clenched his jaw. Why did mares, and females in general always NOT act the way he thought they would? She was supposed to be happy, not...THIS. "Well, you literally swooped in like the goddess Athena and saved us. Like I told the guy I bought it from, I wanted you to have a physical memory of what you did for us." He looked into her large eyes and added, "What you did for me." He wasn't so much mad as he was uncomfortable that he somehow upset her with his present. He was SO not thinking about that whole herd episode he had back at Dante's house.

Karen, who was somewhat knowledgeable on cultural history, especially Greece since it was near Italy, asked, "Honey, where on earth, literally, did you go to get that? I know it was Florida, but you were gone for several hours. They have things like that there?"

He turned to her and said, "Well, yeah. I saw a website online called Lostgalleon.com. I've never really gotten anypony anything, so I looked up pegasus-type stuff. That came up. The owner of the business is a modern day treasure hunter. He was set up in Florida and, um, mail takes too long."

His father was already on it, surreptitiously looking up the website on his phone. When he pulled up the Greek jewelry pendants, his eyes widened. Liberty peered down from her perch on his shoulder. "You bet your ass males take too long-" She choked on her words, wheezing out, "Holy shiii....zzzle." Looking up from the price tag on the web page, she saw Karen's frown and chose 'other' sounds to make besides swear words. Liberty was about to say more when Civil looked at her sternly. She shrugged at him. "What? Can't admire how much you are willing to invest in an awesome gal like Hot Pink?"

Civil groaned. Karen admonished her with, "Liberty, leave him alone. I think it's positively sweet. And those roses, too. You went above and beyond. I'm proud of you." He smiled back at his MATURE mom and smirked at the immature one. Liberty :P'd back at him. Then he totally forgot about the foal as he was glomped by pink fur, pink feathers and red mane.

"This is the most beautiful gift anypony...anyONE has ever given to me, Civil! I absolutely love it!" She said closely in his ear. "Even if I had nothing left in both of these worlds, this would be all I would ever need to keep me going. And you, of course."

Dealing with an onslaught of blushing, he cleared his throat and replied, "I didn't mean anything by the Athena Parthenon virgin thing, that's just what the-" Hot placed a feather tip over his muzzle, halting his rambling.

"I am not a god, Civil. I am mortal, and mortality is the greatest gift we could have to teach us the true value of life. Do you agree?" She stared into his eyes, inches away. He could only nod, briefly inhaling the scent of her feathers. She smiled, knowing exactly what he did, then sat back when she saw the others looking on with interest. She murmured, "We can talk more when we have privacy, Civ." He nodded again, not saying anything.

Liberty was having fits of giggles over on Daniel's shoulder, which broke the mood. Civil got up and stepped over to the tree in order to help hoof out more gifts and stuffed stockings.

Daniel carried Liberty into the kitchen after she asked him to make his famous grasshopper drink. It was basically a few scoops of vanilla ice cream, some milk, and a shot or three of creme de menthe in a blender. The standard recipe called for creme de cacao, but he'd been making his version since forever on special occasions and nobody ever complained. He was reasonably sure the low-proof alcohol wouldn't be too much for his daughter, but he did find a smaller glass, much to her disappointment.

Once everyone had taken a few minutes to sip their drinks, Karen spoke up. "Civil, your friend was telling us that in your other world, you celebrate a similar holiday, just not Jesus' birthday. Heart's...Warming, is it?"

Hot smiled politely, "Hearth's Warming, yes. My human parents were Christians, so I'm fond of both sets of holidays."

Civil nodded, "It happens to be a major part of Equestrian history, practically the founding of our nation since before the princesses came to rule."

While Hot nodded, used to hearing this, everyone else in the room showed very keen interest since it was new to them. Liberty piped up, "Oh! It's like a story, right? A Christmas Carol, or Twas the Night Before Christmas, only pony style? I would love a story!"

Despite Civil rolling his eyes, Hot leaned over and touched his foreleg with her wing, "It's more truth than legend, from what I remember. Maybe you could retell it, so they understand?"

He looked at her with some trepidation. "I am not very good with stories, they'll just get bored."

"No we won't, dear," Karen said. "I would be very interested to learn about this. Whatever traditions you two remember, we can work them in."

He looked around and saw nothing but eager faces from all of them. He said to Hot, "Feel free to take this one."

She grinned and tapped his shoulder with her wing. "It's your family, your role. You'll do fine."

Civil shook his head, smiling ruefully. Sure, whatever. He took a deep breath and said out loud, "This is more of a history lesson than a fairy tale. I can remember some names and events, that's about it. If you have any questions...don't expect too much."

His human mother nodded and encouraged him to continue. He drink some more from his glass and began.

***

You are familiar with the three tribes of ponies. There are the unicorns, the earth ponies, and the flying ponies, us.

"What about the griffons, manticores, centaurs, dragons, all those other guys? Do they get into the Hearth Warming spirit too?" The very inquisitive foal sitting atop her human father's head waved her hoof in the air, as if she were in a classroom.

Rubbing his temple, Civil replied, "They are not part of this story. I said, this is history and I'm not good at history."

Dan reached up to his head and tickled Liberty lightly, "Hush, sweety, let the guy talk, kay?" She muttered something and settled down. Civil eyed her, poking his head forward slightly as if asking for her permission to speak, albeit condescendingly. She waved her hoof like an orchestral director.

Ahem, before we were interrupted ("Spbptptp!")....again......There are three tribes. Today there is a nation of ponies working together in harmony, hence the magic of Harmony. In our past long ago, they also worked together. Just not in the harmony of today. Er, before the curse, I should say.

Pegasi controlled the weather, unicorns raised and lowered the sun, and earth ponies grew the-

"Raised and lowered the sun? How does that even work?!"

Civil raised his eyes slightly to stare at Liberty.

"You are going to sit on our father's head in that form and ask that?" He merely asked.

She made like she was going to argue...then by some Christmas miracle, she laid her head down on her forelegs and stared into the fire.

Hot whispered, "How did you do that?"

Civil shrugged. "I dunno, but I'm not looking a gift pony in the mouth." He quickly got back to the story.

There were three leaders at the time, Chancellor Puddinghead for the Earth ponies, Smart Cookie his go to assistant-

Commander Hurricane for the Pegasi, Private Pansy his second in command-

-and finally Princess Platinum and her trusty but seldom listened to advisor, Clover the Clever, for the uni-

Liberty burst out laughing. Civil pointedly clenched his jaw, but relented slightly when Pink said softly, "If she has no memory at all, she is going to find our names and culture peculiar. Imagine it from her perspective as a human. Or yours before your change, for that matter."

He knew it was sound advice, but more so, he saw the looks on his parents' faces. They were thrilled that, despite all Liberty was going through (and she seemed to have the worst of the deal by far), she was taking this curse thing like she did with everything else in her life. Straight at it, laughing in the face of danger and despair. In a way, she lived up to her cutie mark holding a torch to bring hope and chase away the darkness. He supposed he could learn something from that.

He smiled slightly to himself, remembering that foal was his pony mother up on his father's head. Maybe it wasn't so bad if she was enjoying herself now, a change from the sad looks he would catch from her when she thought he wasn't looking, those many years ago. So he waited for Liberty to finally calm down. She waved a tiny hoof to continue and he nodded.

So the three tribes bartered with each other to provide for each other, though they were never happy about the arrangements. The unicorns and pegasi would accuse the earth ponies of holding back food. The earth ponies would accuse the others of timing the sun, moon, and weather to selfishly serve their interests instead of facilitating with the production of food, and we pegasi felt we were not compensated enough for the protection and excellent weather conditions we provided.

"I'm sure mistakes were made by all, was the lesson," Hot Pink murmured. Civil nodded.

As tempers grew heated, the skies grew colder. Little by little conditions got worse until they were buried with snow and blustered by blizzards. Naturally, the earth ponies could not grow anymore food under these conditions, and while the pegasi struggled with increasingly difficult skies, not to mention the monsters that would come out looking for food because the smaller animals had fled the area, the unicorns felt this was a conspiracy between the uppers and the downers.

"Um...there are drugs in this story?" Civil's human mother asked, concern on her face.

"No, those are just what the rest of us used to be called by unicorns back then," Civil explained. "See, they would live on mountains, above where the mud settled, but below the clouds where pegasi...ahem...preened all day and night doing nothing. Or 'accidentally' dropping stuff on the hornies," He felt Hot shift her wings a little, her eyes narrowing. He added hastily, "Just a misconception of the past. We don't use those disparaging terms anymore." He thought for a second. "Mostly."

When all three tribes were pushed to the brink of starvation, a summit was called by the leaders. As you can imagine, it was a shouting match of accusations and anger with nothing getting accomplished. So in a rare moment of like minded thinking, each tribe independently decided to strike out on their own to find warmer lands to thrive. And as it would happen, they all ended up in the same valley away from the snowstorms.

"Are you watching a my little pony show on your phone?" Liberty, again.

He looked up from his phone, glowering. "And?"

"And..." Liberty said dramatically, "Aren't you supposed to know all this? You were living there for at least-" (counting on two hooves....carry the one.....) "-two Warmings."

"I'm using Cliff notes. Shut up."

"Civil! Be nice to your sister, it's Christmas Eve," admonished Karen. Hot giggled.

"Sorry mom. Shut up, Sis."

Several tsk's later, from both mature ladies....

So naturally they began to argue again over who got there first and who had rights to what. At the time they were unaware of it, but what they had thought they left behind, they had unwittingly brought with them. See, unbeknownst to them, their hate and anger and pain had caused the snowstorms and ice blizzards to form above them in the lands they came from. Through their negative emotions, they had summoned...

Civil leaned forward, voice becoming ominous, "...wendigos."

His older parents, normally not ones to go for mythical nonsense, sat up a little, eyebrows raised. Afterall, they had three mythical creatures in front of them. Liberty snorted, though a tad nervously. "Wendigos? Like real wendigos? Aren't they supposed to eat human flesh...?" she started saying flippantly until her eyes went to pinpricks, realizing what Karen and Dan had realized. She WAS a mythical creature, so it stood to reason that other creatures could, and did, exist.

Civil smiled grimly, "Yes. They are real. Now that I have your attention, you might want to listen to the rest of this..."

See, wendigos in our world do not feed on human flesh. Simply put, no humans around.

(:P from Liberty, but not as much effort in it this time)

There are however, lots of beings with emotions, and dark negative emotions are what attract the denizens of the far northern wastelands. So it happened that while the three leaders argued once again over who had the right to what, those wendigos came and began to freeze over the valley. The leaders' subordinates had cooler heads on their shoulders and were able to find a cave nearby where everypony was able to shelter in. This was only a momentary respite, for the leaders began to argue once more, drawing lines in the dirt, quibbling over territory, and the cave grew colder. So cold, the ice sealed up the cave mouth and crept in to freeze Chancellor Puddinghead, Commander Hurricane, and Princess Platinum in midstream of their harshest words yet, forever to be entombed in a prison of their own making.

"Forever!?!" wailed Liberty.

Civil half smiled, "Perhaps..."

The ice continued to spread and finally reached Smart Cookie, Private Pansy, Clover the Clever, hooves locking into place on the stone floor in what looked to be a similar fate. Then, they heard the roars, high above them. A hole in the ceiling of the cave allowed them to see up into the eye of the maelstrom, and swirling in that chaos were the phantasmic forms of the wendigos, dancing on the winds of the ice storms.

The three ponies quivered, hugging each other. Private Pansy cried out 'What is that!?' Clover the Clever whined, 'Those are wendigos! My mentor, Starswirl the Bearded, taught us that they are winter spirits who feed on the emotions of fighting and hatred. The more hatred there is, the colder things become!' Smart Cookie then realized the truth. 'So, all this time, they were causing the storms. No, wait. WE were causing the storms! This is all our fault! We brought them to our home, by fighting and not trusting each other. Now this land is doomed, and us!' Clover nodded, huddling in as the ice began to creep up their bodies, the cold matching the shivers up their spine. Clover cried, 'Now we will become ice like our hearts, frozen in foolishness because of our hate.'

'I don't ate you,' Pansy said quietly. The other two ponies looked at her. 'Commander Hurricane maybe...no that's not true. I don't hate her either, just her strict dress code, especially in the mornings before we get all wet pushing clouds. Then she makes us change uniforms. More clouds, more wet.' The other ponies started laughing. The ice kept moving up their bodies, but it was slowing. Cookie said, 'Well I don't hate you guys either, though the view from below can be a bit bothersome when you don't follow dress code pushing those clouds, ya know, kibbles an bits everywhere ya look.'

"Civil!!! That's NOT how that goes!" Exclaimed Hot. Karen and Dan were chuckling to themselves.

Liberty muttered, "I had wondered...huh, have to be careful where I fly, when I learn to fly." Her tail wrapped around just a tad tighter about her rear.

Held out his hooves. "What? We're all adults here, and there are different versions out there. Besides...my MOTHER taught me that version." Liberty sat up, eyes wide. He smirked, "One time, after Dad and Grandad went to bed. They were sticklers for proper historical facts and 'properly censored stories' for their young colt. You, mom, had different ideas." He saw her lay down again, a contemplative look on her face now. He glanced at Hot Pink, who had her mouth open, then looked back at him with one eyebrow quirked.

"I think your mother and I need to get to know each other better, if THAT'S how it is with the Civils," she quipped. He cleared his throat, cheeks growing warm.

The three ponies began sharing stories about their leaders and how they truly felt, which was love, caring, and understanding for each others plights when it came to the skies, the sun and moon, and the laboring for food, and above all, how they truly loved each other as ponies. Just before the ice encapsulated them completely, it stopped. Clover's horn glowed, melting the ice back down and a beam of warm fiery love shot up into the skies, banishing the wendigos back to the furthest reaches of the north. The column of flame culminated into a heart of energy above them, before disappearing. But they could still feel the warmth. It was not coming from the air above them, but FROM them. Cookie said, 'I didn't know you could do that?'

Clover replied, 'I didn't either! But it didn't come from just me...it came from all of us. It came from friendship.' So throughout the night, they told stories and sang songs they were taught as foals. They didn't even need a fire to melt the ice and stay warm, their friendship and camaraderie were enough. And those songs became the winter carols we still sing today. Eventually, the warmth melted their leaders free, and melted their hearts. Where Commander Hurricane used to ridicule Private Pansy, now she congratulated her subordinate for courage under fire........under ice, one might say. The princess Platinum lauded Clover for her quick thinking and realization of the situation, and the chancellor Puddinghead was impressed by Cookie's stalwart character to see them all through the night. The cave mouth also melted, revealing a landscape shaking off the snows of the previous night. The leaders, understanding what needed to be done, agreed to share the land, under one flag, in harmony ever after.

Hot Pink lightly clapped her hooves together. Civil's parents nodded while Liberty tilted her head once to him. "Not bad, Civil, not bad. And considering the source, I think I would have done it differently here and there-"

Civil groaned, "Oh give over, already. You tell it next time." He stuck out his tongue. So did she. Then he got distracted by Hot Pink hugging him.

"I think it was a great telling, despite certain embellishments." Then she whispered in his ear, "That stuff is for private time, you know..."

Karen, watching them keenly, got up and smiled at him, "It was a pleasant, if interesting, story. Definitely worth listening to again." She started towards the bedroom and paused, placing a hand on Civil's shoulder on the way by, "I would make certain parts G-rated, for the little ones."

"I heard that!"

Their mother headed on into the bedroom to get ready for sleep. Dan picked up the foal on his head and placed her on the padded EZchair, who was perfectly content to stretch and roll over like a cat. He shook his head at her and followed his wife into the bedroom to get ready for bed too. "Nice story son. I'd leave the kibbles n bits in." His kids laughed as he went into the room.

The ponies sat there, thinking about times past...well, two of the three. The third bereft of pony memories thought about Christmas Eves spent in that living room when they were human, that same fire crackling, that same pipe cleaner tree with those ancient ornaments their parents refused to replace. First thing after the holidays, Liberty was getting new ornaments and a tree. This stuff was just pathetic.

Civil sat quietly, staring into the fireplace.

"You are brooding, Civ."

He looked up at the mare next to him. "No.....ah...thinking, is all."

She turned the pendant box between her hooves and lowered her gaze. "About?"

"Land Yacht. Just that, after our overly simplified conversation about names last night...."

A small smile crept onto her muzzle. "Mmm, wondering about me?"

A single nod. He saw the box stop.

"I changed my name."

His head snapped up, "Wuh? You can do that?"

"Yes. It's not taboo...unless you are a high strung east coaster."

"Hay!" He bumped her with his shoulder. She bumped back.

"Present company appreciated." It was her turn to stare into the fire. "My birth name is Pink Yacht. Being the heiress of a multibillion bit franchise caused me no end of trouble as a young filly, so when I was old enough I petitioned for the name Pink Hacht. Not too different, and it was only to be temporary." Her nose wrinkled in derision. "Some horn clerk thought I had misspelled it and entered the application as Pink, Hot. Last name, then first," she added. She shook her head and snorted. "I remember something about it being too difficult to fix it back then, so the plan was to simply put in another name change when I was ready to take the helm."

He wore a confused expression.

"The helm of the airship, the Mareyacht...? It wasn't just a name for the hotel, we actually had a flying ship too. Like the Goodyear blimp, only far more elegant."

"Ah. Hm airships." He sat back. "I forgot about those. Industry hadn't gotten back to producing those before I came back. So, have you thought about filing for a change here? I'm sure there is less likelihood you'll be harassed about the Yacht name." He winced. Might as well have thrown her loss back in her face while he was at it.

She smiled sadly and touched her hoof to his. "It's okay, Civ. New world, new beginnings."

He chuckled. "You mean, new Frontier."

"Ponies, the FINAL frontier!" Liberty couldn't contain herself anymore, and nothing on earth was going to stop her. "These are the voyages of the starship Don't-Make-Me-Vomit. Its mission, to boldly do stuff that Civil has never been bold enough to do before-"

"Hay!" He wasn't about to let her get away with this-

"To seek out new love, and new awkward situations!"

"You are making THIS awkward right now!" He groused.

Hot Pink giggled, "I think she's funny."

"NO! Don't encourage her-"

"To boldly go, where Civil was never bold enough to go....before!"

"You said that already!"

"Well, it takes you two times to figure shit out, doesn't it?"

Karen poked her head out of the bedroom doorway, dressed in a nightgown, "Liberty, language!"

"What, it's true-!"

"But language! And you are starting it this time, by the way. Kids, your father and I are going to bed. Civil, a word?"

Civil lowered his head, his ears, and his eyelids, muttering, "Great, I can already figure out what she is going to say."

Hot Pink only grinned and poked his side with her hoof, winking at Liberty, who in turn giggled back.

When he was close enough, Karen said in a low voice, "Dear, you know our rules." Her eyes flicked over to the mare on their couch.

"Mom! It's not like that, she's just a friend."

"Just a friend? With the kind of gifts you two gave each other?"

He lowered his gaze.

"Thought so. For the record, she is very sweet and considerate. You have our blessing, just not upstairs."

He groaned. He didn't care how old which mother was, this stuff just didn't sit well in any conversation with them. When he returned, his 'friend' was grinning ear to ear. Of course she heard everything.

"Is everything okay?"

"My parents are very traditional, meaning..."

"Meaning it would be best if only I went upstairs while you stayed down here."

He dropped his gaze, embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I know you wanted to talk privately-"

She stood up and placed a hoof on his cheek, "Civil, it's alright. Honestly I was hoping to save you some embarrassment anyway. Did she say anything else?"

"I'm sure you already know. She likes you and...sorta...gave us her blessing." He whispered that last part out.

Hot grinned and wrapped her wings around his neck, nuzzling him. "I like that. Your family is good people."

He turned beet red with the feeling of those too soft for word wings, but enjoyed this closeness. In a moment of bravery, he replied, "I like you."

She hummed softly, murmuring, "I know...."

He thought about moving closer, if maybe this was too soon, or did she expect him to dart in, or would that be too low brow and brash like those pushy ponies she had mentioned at the dinner table...until he saw Liberty sitting on the lounge chair, eating hoof-fuls of popcorn, eyes wide with excitement. He straightened and cleared his throat.

Hot Pink knew Liberty was there, but didn't seem to mind. She let go of Civil and smiled, "We can always pick this up in Frontier, if you are up for it." He mumbled something garbled, which was supposed to be 'goodnight'. She patted his cheek again, this time with a wingtip and sauntered up the stairs. He stood there watching her the entire way.

"Um...if you were waiting for the right moment to kiss her, that was it." She was bouncing a piece of popcorn before she hot potato'd it into her mouth.

"You don't get to quote Pirates of the Caribbean, since you kinda messed it up anyway." He wandered back over to the couch and gathered up his scarf, folding it delicately before placing it on the padded armrest. Then he hopped up into his spot again and laid against the scarf.

Liberty snorted and finished up her popcorn. "Oh come on, don't blame me for you getting cold feet-"

"Hooves."

"Whatever. Seriously, she totally wants to surrender the booty-"

"Shut Up!" He glared at her, then lowered his voice, "She is a very nice mare and she helped us get home safely. And...I think I was about to...anyway. You know."

Liberty raised a brow.

"Kiss! Alright? I was working on it. You coulda given me three whole seconds longer." Dubious look. "Okay, four."

"I'm sorry." Certainly didn't sound like an apology, but he'd take what he could get.

"You should be."

Liberty rolled her eyes and cinched her way down off the chair backwards, legs dangling. She looked so pathetic he was caught between wanting to help her and wanting to film it. Being the season for nice deeds, he started to get up, but she plopped down on her bottom, then whipped him a look reminding him of the promise they made each other up on that cloud about certain athletic failings. Her face lightened a little and she said, "Just that, she's into you and you are missing signs left and right."

Settling back down, he asked, "Oh, you read pony body language now?"

"I'm a woman. It comes naturally."

"A mare," he corrected her. He blinked, adding, "A filly." She made to respond but he held up a hoof, "No, it's not up for discussion." He lowered his voice again, "Look, if it makes you happy, I plan on visiting Frontier soon enough. I just want to get some job applications out first so I don't feel like a deadbeat when she introduces me to all the other ponies there." He thought about it, then said, "There might even be some RE-introductions, too, depending on who is living there now."

His pegasus mother stumbled over to the couch, still trying to get the hang of her legs and hooves long before any normal foal her age should. Then she scrabbled her way up the side and laid against him, a warm lump of fur and feathers against his ribs. She looked up at him and said sternly in her squeaky voice, "You are NOT a deadbeat. You are the most selfless person I know." She caught his smirk and added, "Pony. Stallion. Whatever!" when he started chuckling at her.

He covered her with his wing, her head still peeking out. "Well, thankyou, Original Mom."

She winced at his attempt at coolness. After a minute, she said, "You still suck at dating. That's why I'm trying to help."

His eyes began to close to the warm feeling of the fire in the hearth, the flames dancing counterpoint to the slowly flashing lights of the sparkling Christmas tree in the room. It was a pleasant feeling to be at home, to have family and friends nearby. Of all the things that could be going wrong in his life, this moment felt so right, even the barbed affirmation of help from his tiny mother was somehow just right, too.

"I know, and thank you anyway," he murmured. She gave a small mewl of agreement from under his wing as she slipped off into slumber. He closed his eyes, expecting to be vaulted into dreamland.

Sadly, that did not happen. With the last several days being a marathon of emotions for him, he found he was still just a tad bit jittery, as though waiting for the other horseshoe to drop. After a few minutes of reviewing all the events he and his mother/sister had been through, he glanced under his wing. She was already out like a light, making small snoring sounds. He did the best he could to move his phone into a position to surf the internet and not disturb her at the same time. His first search was back to the web pages that were being updated to advise newly changed ponies. He tried all manner of searches, especially in the foal categories. Not a single mention of complete loss of memory. Sure infants were not likely to display much since they were working on original hardware after the change, kind of like trying to read a high end solid state drive connected to an abacus for a computer. The architecture had to mature and upgrade to accommodate the memories of the human life, and a baby foal wouldn't have any pony memories because, well....baby.

He went back to one of the earliest pages that had self-help videos attached to it, the star of the videos one Corporal Twilight Velvet of the 75th Rangers. There was a support link to a forum where a pony could ask questions or get referrals, so he started a new thread:

"Hello, I have a small problem, my mother. She is my human sister who turned into my pegasus mom, who also happens to be an infant foal now. Please don't ask unless you already have information to help me out. Our main problem is she has absolutely no pony memory from her adult life as a pony, but has all of her human memory and can freely express herself, even though she is an infant pony. Anypony in the medical or science field, please contact me."

He thought for a bit. Then on a whim, he added:

"I would like to ascue some questions, I'm desperate."

He nodded, satisfied. If that doesn't generate some feedback, nothing would. He hit the submit button and reread his entry. Then he clicked off his phone and whispered to Liberty, "Happy Merry Hearth's Warming Christmas, mom." An apt wish for the end of a really screwed up year. Now he could sleep.

***

Giggling. Laughter. Squeals of happiness. These were knives that sliced jaggedly into Civil's otherwise sublime sleep. He opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling while lying on his back, limbs splayed out in different directions.

Groaning, he twisted his head over the arm of the couch so he could just barely see into the kitchen. His human mother stood at the sink, her dingy apron on. It was armor against the splashing that his PONY mother was doing while she played in the sink. Civil's right eye twitched from grogginess...and other things such as-

"Who's my dirty bird, who's my dirty bird?" cooed Karen.

Liberty squealed in delight and laughed out, "I'm your LITTLE Dirty Bird!" Twin spouts of water erupted as Liberty, floating on her back, propelled the liquid up into the air with her wings, trying to wet Karen. Both laughed like it was the funniest thing ever.

They had stolen his pet name.

Civil slid back down, groaning to himself, "Nevermind, I hate her again." He clamped both his hooves over his ears, trying to wedge himself down into the couch as though he could escape the suffering. A light chuckle across the room caught his attention and he opened one eye to spot Hot Pink sitting on the other couch, sipping from a coffee mug held by a wing.

He made to sit up and smooth out his floof and feathers, but she tsked at him, "Oh, too late for that, Civ. I've seen you three times waking up. I'm good for now."

"Yes you are! Yes you are!" from the kitchen.

He moaned, "This is not the morning I was wanting to have. Anything left of that coffee...or food for that matter?"

She nodded towards the dining area in the kitchen. "Bacon, eggs, toast. Your mother is really on the ball with our diet."

He smiled weakly and made his way in. With it being Christmas Day, and Hearth's Warming Day, nopony ever woke up at the same time. Since the morning traditions were only among his original herd, he was willing to eat his fill and see what Santa had brought him. It wasn't so bad. Some minor gadgets, things that were more appropriate for humans than ponies. His dad said Santa had bought the stuff before his return, which Civil responded with an eye roll. The best part, though, was the bag of smooth and melty pastel mints. Like squat hershey kisses, but with white sprinkles on the bottom and mint. He loved those. Even as a human child, he would get them every year.

He hugged both parents, whispering, "Best Hearth's Warming Christmas, ever!"

And they agreed.

***

Somewhere else, another mug of coffee was reaching an eager pair of tan/orange lips. This was the strong stuff, specially made for a very special unicorn. The molten liquid slid down her throat and a moan of satisfaction came back out. "Ooooh, that's the stuff."

Despite hanging out with friends that morning, the great search must continue. The unicorn scanned her screens, processing information, scouring the net, searching for other ponies out there so she and her friends could help-

A chime sounded. That meant one of her algorithms had picked up something important. But that was a very special chime, linked to only a few words that only a VERY few ponies would have known to use, and NONE of them so stupidly on the open web.

She read the log and recognized the address, the original site that was set up by the military to help ponies. Clicking on the listed forum topic, she sat up. All her other searches ceased as the mare's magic came to an abrupt halt.

She breathed, "The Civils...you guys are alive!"

***

A week later, Civil returned home from a meeting at the Texas Workforce office. Hot Pink had said her goodbyes to them later that Hearth's Warming Day and taken to the air, with Civil staring after her long past when the dot in the sky disappeared...only to chase a tiny foal back inside after she was teasing him with 'kibbles an bits an bits an bits'........'and bits an bits an bits' throughout the better part of a week. Now he was on the hunt for a job. That meant applying for unemployment and getting his name out there.

The Texas Workforce visit consisted of a lone pegasus among a very large group of unemployed humans. His task was now to apply online and log at least five applications a day, or his unemployment pay would stop. Granted he had a fairly sizeable amount in the bank...or so he thought. His card linked to his banking account had yet to bounce, but he hadn't gotten a bank statement yet. The Air Force was SUPPOSED to reestablish that line of pay for him..

As he walked in...it was too quiet. He found his mother in the kitchen cleaning dishes. She looked up. "Hi Civil. Have you seen your mom around?"

"No, I thought she was with you."

Karen frowned. "She was, but she wanted to try her walking skills and wandered into the living room. I thought you would have seen her..." She placed the dish down slowly as not to chip it, but her walk out of the kitchen was much quicker.

Thus began another hunt. They searched each room, the garage, the upstairs, behind the stuff animals (Yeah, she remembered his hiding spot). They met in the living room.

"We searched everywhere. Could she have gotten outside?" He asked.

Karen remembered that hawks outside could carry off small pets...or foals. "Why would she do that? How? Nobody opened a door-!"

"Wait...do you hear that?" He held up a hoof, turning his head and ears to triangulate the sound.

"No," she whispered. "What is it?"

"Snoring. Very light snor-" He glanced up, stuttering to a halt.

Liberty was laying on the fan blade, asleep.

"How...she can fly now?!" Karen lowered her voice, afraid to wake her.

He paced around underneath, checking if she was completely on or hanging. Nope, completely on. "It's not unheard of for us to start this early. Two weeks is close enough."

"But she is asleep up there."

He grinned at Karen sardonically, "It's not unheard of for us to find strange places high to sleep. It's a safety thing, like cats do."

"Doesn't look safe. She could roll over and..." Karen edged over to the wall switch, not to turn it on but keep anybody else from doing that. Like, her husband who would simply waltz in and turn it on to 'fix the problem'.

"Yeah. I'll get her down," Civil said neutrally.

"There's a ladder in the garage," she advised. He shrugged and started walking to the wall, flexing his wings. "But dear, your wings will hit the ceiling. You bent your primaries when you were dusting up there last time."

"I'll be fine. Besides, Heh, I got something better," waggling his hoof at her.

He began placing his hooves on the wall and started walking up, singing, "Spider peg, spider peg, does whatever a spider peg does."

His mother twisted her mouth slightly, "That's not funny. I hope you cleaned your hooves before you get up there. I don't feel like painting the whole ceiling if you get smudge marks."

"Yes mom," he muttered.

Liberty was having the most sublime sleep in quite awhile. She sensed something nearby and slowly opened her eyes, yawning out, "Mmmm...hay big stuff."

"Hay sleepy head."

She blinked, trying to figure out what was wrong. Oh, that's what's wrong. "Why are you standing on your head?" She blinked again like an owl.

"I'm not on my head. I'm on the ceiling." Indeed. He was on the ceiling. In front of her.

"What...?" She sat up, then slammed her belly back down on the blade, shaking the fan and gripped the edges with all four hooves. "Oh shit! What the fuck!?!"

"Woh there nelly!" He stepped forward and held out a hoof to stop the fan from slowly turning.

She glared back at him. "You turd. Bet you've been saving that one ever since I changed!" She glanced down, not willing to argue much past that.

He looked up, which was down. "So...how did you get up here?"

Her head hung over the side of the fan blade, staring at the far away tiled floor. "Duh. I flew." It was odd. She seemed scared, but also fascinated with the distance down. She was either trying to figure a way down, or imagining what it would feel like to go splat. Neither would have surprised him.

"Mkay. WHY are you still up here?" He inspected one of his hooves to see if any bits of ceiling had come off.

Glowering, she looked back at him finally, then squeaked out, "because...i...forgot how to get up here....happy?"

He raised his brow. Lowered. You know what I mean.

"Oh leave me alone!" She exclaimed. "I was running around-"

"Galloping-"

"Shut it! I was RUNNING around and I felt myself lift up in the air. I kept going higher and higher...and....uh..."

He said softly, "You didn't know how to stop and ended up here."

"...yeah."

"It's okay, it happens. Mm...why didn't you call out for help?" Her face turned beet red. "You were embarrassed," he concluded.

"I don't remember any of this, okay?! I should be full grown...I AM full grown, in here," she pointed a hoof to her noggin, then gripped the blade again when she realized she had let go, "just not...enh. I hate being small. You know I finally grew taller than you a few years ago, and now I'm fucking tiny again!"

"You have a full lifetime ahead of you. In fact, you'll outlast me by a few decades-"

She blinked, the truth hitting her cold. "No! Don't say stuff like that!...I don't want to be alone." She was near to tears now.

"I swear on my mother's gra-" He stopped short and winced, then continued, "...fuuuuture grave, that will not happen." She smirked back, but she couldn't hold the expression long. He added, "You will have family and friends with you until your dying days."

"Promise?" she asked softly.

"Promise. Now, I am going to show you a ceiling flip you used to do with me all the time. Around when I was learning to cloud walk."

"...ceiling flip..." she said in a dead voice.

"You'll love it. Normally it's a cloud flip, but we can save that for later. I just need you to relax your grip on the fan when I have a hold of you. Got it?"

"Fine, but it better not involve being dumped out of a bag."

"Oh for crying out loud, give it up."

She stuck out her tongue, but she did relax her hooves, signifying him to begin. He crossed his forelegs, reached out and took hold of her. When she nodded, he let go of the ceiling and dropped. A split second later he spun laterally, unwinding his arms and held them stiff while continue to spin, now rolling her off the fan with her ending up on her back in his forelegs. He poofed out his wings and they glided to the floor, Liberty squealing all the way.

Karen shook her head, saying, "Flying ponies. If I didn't continue to see it, I STILL wouldn't believe it." She walked over to a very amped up two week old foal.

"We gotta do that AGAIN, Civil! Come on!"

He shook his head. "Oh no no no no no. First we will begin flying lessons. THEN falling lessons." Liberty hoof pumped the air after Karen had checked her for any injuries. "Mom, care to watch?"

Sensing she was being addressed, Karen shook her head. "I can't watch. Not after what you just did." To his hurt expression, she scratched his ears. "Nothing against you, dear. Just that, my heart stopped. When she can fly on her own, then I will watch."

Given their experiences so far, he nodded and smiled weakly. "I forgot. Sorry mom."

She shook her head. "Don't be sorry for being what you are. Just I'm not going to have heart attacks over it. Just catch her EVERY time, got it?" He nodded and led a very excited foal outside.

***

The office building for the company was a pretty standard affair as office buildings went. Open air lobby with a security desk, elevators, marble floors and walls. A quick ride up a few floors found Civil down the hall and walking into a rather small set of offices. They certainly weren't big on overhead, it appeared. The secretary must have been warned ahead of time because she didn't blink when she spotted him. The same couldn't be said for the three applicants in the waiting room. They stared as he walked in. They stared more as he spoke his name to the secretary and was asked to sit and wait. They stared as he sat and waited. And waited.

More staring. The same as when he went to the Texas Workforce office, and now here. He had finally gotten a hit on his job applications and this was it. A possibility of being a door to door salesman of office supplies. He supposed wearing a modified tie and suit combination like he remembered in Equestria was more weird to humans than running around naked...but he was making an honest attempt at this corporate bullshit. Seriously, he was.

After a time, he slowly turned his head to them so as to not surprise them.

"Boo."

They jumped visibly. One even cursed. That shit never got old.

"Okay, each of you gets one question and then that's it. Closest one first."

The first one did have the mental capacity to swallow before opening his mouth. "You...you're one of them!"

"Question, remember?"

"....uh...are you one of them?" Dear massive alicorn, was this the calibre he was really up against?

"If you mean 'pony' then yes, I AM...one of them. If you mean a deranged figment of some opium driven nightmare you had last night while masturbating, then sorry man, can't help you." A spray of mist from behind the desk meant he had caught the secretary mid-sip with her bottle of water, followed by a hacking laugh. "Next."

The second person took his time to think of a good question. It was obvious they weren't dealing with a dumb animal here. "Alright. I saw a lot of stuff on YouTube and a bunch of talk show specials. How much of that is real?" Ah an intelligent question.

"Barring the whole argument of if you can believe a news network these days anyway, if it looks like it was filmed by an amateur, then it was real. If someone is giving their opinion on prime time, parts of it are real. Just don't believe everything you hear." After a brief pause, the third person made to speak up, but Civil was feeling his snarkism rise. "No, I'm not a demon or angel, or some other horrible entity, I don't have mind powers. Yes, the cutie mark is a thing, no I haven't gotten mine DON'T ASK! I'm from another world, so in the strictest sense you could call me an alien, but I was also born a human, so do me the courtesy of treating me the same way you would want to be treated."

To his credit, the third person kept his face straight in reply, "Actually, I wanted to apologize on behalf of all humans." That got Civil's attention. "I also heard about some bad stuff, the experimentation that was going on. I've seen my share of alien movies and I feel bad that our one real public encounter turns out to include that kind of thing. On prior humans, no less. Forget karma and rebirth, we should treat all creatures with love and respect."

Sigh, religion. Civil snorted and tilted his head, "For the sake of being born again and salvation?"

The man shrugged, "For those that want to be saved. But at its basic level, it's just the right thing to do. A true servant of God doesn't pursue good deeds to be recognized. He does it because it is good." The other people in the room remained silent, mostly because that was a solemn statement to try and follow up on. It certainly left an impact on Civil. The pegasus gave it another minute before breaking the silence.

"Pretty powerful stuff. I take it you have a strong faith in God?" He got a nod in reply. Civil watched him thoughtfully. "I envy your conviction. As you can imagine, my faith was shaken a few years ago. Diarchy, Catholic, then Diarchy, sort of."

"How is it now?" Civil was about to remind him only one question per person, when he realized...that was his only question. Of the three questions, it was the shortest, simplest, and probably the most profound question anybody had asked him to date.

Naturally he had no answer, so he muttered, "I don't know." He was almost dreading the inevitable religion-laced pep talk he was about to get. Yet he was surprised again by the gentleman.

"I think you are going to do fine. Just don't take too long asking for help when you're ready for it. Getting out of the darkness can be quite the journey the longer you wait."

Civil stared straight ahead and enjoyed the absolute silence.

Or not.

"I know I already asked a question but I have to know! Did you get to see Chrysalis in person and is she-"

"An overrated skankasaurus who needs to wash her hair. With hydrochloric acid."

"....mm, nevermind."

Eventually he was called in, after the others, to interview with a midlevel boss. He got some typical pony specific questions, along with a 'We Are Here For You' speech and the expectations. He was also to ride with someone else in a car, a veteran who would make her rounds going to different businesses to see if they were interested in their products.

Maybe riding around with a strange human woman wouldn't be quite so bad. He only needed to do it until lunch time, grab lunch, then a couple more hours to call it a day for the orientation run.

***

Lunch didn't come fast enough. He envied salespeople only in that they had the stomach for this job. Unless he used a product, he didn't believe in it and certainly couldn't profess its value. All he had was a catalogue of office supplies. He didn't even have an office!

He and the otherwise lovely young lady sat at a table at Subway. He was opting for a chicken sub loaded with vegetables, like, ALL the vegetables, triple jalapenos. He was in a mood, and jalapenos spoke to him.

"This is so cool! I can't believe I'm actually talking to a pony! That talks! AND FLIES!!!" She was literally squealing. They had been in the car for three hours, jumping from one business district to the next, asking some places if they wanted to check out their products, outright denied by others. It was a thankless business. Again, his heart went out to those who could do this and thrive. Though this lady had been pestering him about...everything. As if to continue his torment, her voice got very low in a conspiratorial way, "I don't want to offend you but, well, I've always loved ponies, and pegasuses-"

"Pegasi-" He'd said the term a zillion times. A zillion and one, now. He went back to eating his sandwich.

"Pegasi, yes! I love you guys! I was just wondering," She slowed down and whispered, "Can I touch your wings? If you don't mind, they look so soft!" She was practically salivating, though it could have been from the untouched food in front of her. Now that he got to face her rather than sit next to her or watch her work, he noticed certain things. Her hair had split ends. Her suit was worn in places. Her shoes were also worn. Throughout the course of the day, she seemed to go about her business quite calmly, but there was a certain edge to it...like a desperation to make the sale. He hated that pressure to perform, and she embraced it like a zealot.

Civil had always tried to be a gentleman when he was growing up, and could remember exactly how many times he had been slapped by a girl in both lifetimes. Twice, as a human. Once in highschool, but she was a bitch. And a second time in college. Come to think of it, that one was just an older bitch. True he had been snarky, but it was only to have a little fun. Straight up vulgarity was left for bantering with males. Military and his own human father had taught him at least that. He didn't want to think about his experiences with mares. At least, not yet. Some of those slaps were for...different reasons. Pegasi could bet quite combative over things.

That request, as truly innocent as he should have received it, tested him in ways he was not ready for. And it showed. "Can I touch your tits?" She blinked, staring at him.

"W....what?"

"Can I touch your tits?" The day, and the past few months had been boiling up to this point, and he couldn't take it anymore. "Sorry if that comes across as wrong, in some way. It is the same as you asking to touch my wings."

She looked down then back up, realizing what she'd done. "I didn't mean to-"

He stuck out his wingtip, hovering it in front of you. "Here, by all means, go right ahead. Touch it. If I look like a sideshow to you, then you must treat me as one."

Obviously, she didn't touch it. Ignorant or not, she knew corporate policy about discrimination cases and shook her head. "I never meant to offend you. It's just that, they never told us about wings. I guess horns are off the table, too?"

He gave her a curt nod, then lowered his wing as he tried to let go of his anger. "Yeah, horns are a BIG one. Look, I'm sorry for the tits thing. I'm sorry for a lot of things. I don't think this is something for me."

She gathered up her sandwich and slowly slid out of the booth. "I sort of figured. You didn't seem into it." She stood and held out her hand, "I'll take you back to the office. If you want to report me, I'm alright with that. I do bring in a lot of accounts for them, so if they want to send their thoroughbred to the glue factory, that's on them!"

He got out of the booth and stared at her. Did she just compare herself to a horse? Hot damn, for once, a horse comment NOT directed at him!

She stared back, then slapped her own forehead. "FUCK! I am SO sorry-" She cut off when he held her hand, this time with his wingtip.

"Don't worry. Us tits and wingtips got each other's backs when it comes to overbearing authoritative figures."

Looking down at the wing touching her hand, she smiled at him. "Thankyou. You have no idea..."

He nodded as they started walking to the door. "I think I might."

The ride back to the office was not as tense as the earlier hours were, but he knew this wasn't for him, so he was no longer invested in it. After turning in his catalogues and thanking everyone involved for the opportunity to test the waters with them, he winged his way back home. And threw his tie and half suit into the trash.

Not long after...he sat in the kitchen. After the painfully awkward day with that upbeat lady, it was clear to Civil what he finally had to do. Three months. Three damn months of applications, record keeping for Texas Work Force, and petty excuses for unemployment checks that were going to be cut off soon because of a limited time deadline...it was too much for Civil.

He stared at the dark liquid in front of him. He had tried so hard not to think about it, what it would do to his insides, or what would force its way out of his mouth in the aftermath if he finally made the decision. It was something he never wanted his mother to witness, and yet, here he was on the brink of despair, in the kitchen where she would find him. Like a hideous heady cauldron, it bubbled slightly. Acidic, viscous, and deadly if taken in the proper proportion. But he no longer cared. His future was as dark as this fluid. His future was as dead as a salesman. He really hated reading that book in school, too.

Civil picked up the container and chugged it down, the room temperature liquid just barely burning his throat, it went down so quick. And chugged. And chugged. That's when his mother walked into the kitchen.

"JASON! You drank that whole thing!?! What are you thinking?!"

The last dregs of the coke left the two liter bottle and slid down his throat as his eyes widened. Before the bottle even hit the table empty, a large belch left his mouth, his mother grimacing and glancing away, only to stare back at him again sternly, "Jason Darrell Berringer, that is disgusting."

Tapping the table lightly with his hoof while he tried to get his breath back, he finally responded, "Sorry Mom." He had to take several more breaths after that.

His mother shook her head in obvious disapproval and walked over to the table. "What could possibly possess you to drink all that. You know what that stuff does to car batteries?" She drops off a manila folder on the table in front of him.

Civil passed a follow-up burp through his snout, something he learned to do as a human during his earlier coke-binging years. "I'm a pegasus now, Mom. We actually require a lot of energy, quite a bit of it in sugar, as a matter of fact." Her rolling eyes caused him to raise a hoof in defense, "Hay, I didn't make up these rules, it's a biological thing. Anyway, I needed a huge pick-me-up, and The Doctor wasn't going to cut it." He glanced derisively at the Dr. Pepper bottles Dan insisted on buying. Yeck.

She sighed in return. "Hay is for horses." Before Civil could wipe the shock off his face, she continued, "Ponies, I meant ponies." But the twinkle in her eye meant she was trolling him. It had been a while since she was able to gooch her son. Probably making up for lost time.

He let it go and looked down at the folder. "Huh, what's this?" He pulled it over and opened it up. There were a few applications inside, something he had gotten familiar with over the last few months. What wasn't familiar was the organizations those applications were to be mailed to. Austin, Department of Public Safety. Rockwall Police Department. Rowlett Police Department. Dallas Police Department. He looked up at his mother. "A police officer?"

She raised her brow. "Isn't that what you always wanted to be when growing up? A pilot or a police officer? The flying thing didn't work out..." Her mouth scrunched up as she glanced at his twitching wings. "...mostly. But how about a police officer? One door closes, another opens up."

Civil leafed through the papers, looking at the requirements. College, check. Military, check. Physical fitness requirements. The numbers were honed to human fitness standards. This wasn't a mom and pop store where they could look the other way or even a corporation that could make special accommodations to meet equal opportunity business laws. Race, color, religion, hell even sexual preference if he was a mare. After seeing some things Equestria-side of the portal, he had a new appreciation for the word 'no.'

These were venerable institutions, with cultures and customs that did not bear boat rocking very well from upstarts. Certainly not a four-legged one that could talk.

"I don't know. I'm not sure I have what it takes to be a cop."

A tsk from his mother's teeth told him he was being a dolt. He probably was.

"Look, Jason. Civil." She used his human name when she got exasperated now. "You remember when you had that game system, with the Sherlock Holmes game? With the cd's?"

"Sega CD?" Wow that was a flash from the past. Old even then.

"Yes. You and I stayed up that night and solved that game without even getting all the clues, but we had to go back and get that last clue before it would let us solve it? And then that Holmes exhibit at the Ross Perot museum? You were all over those clues. You even got the part correct about the bullet and the flight path."

He shrugged, "Yeah, but I didn't know about him being an agent and faking his death and the exploding seed pod. That other stuff was ridiculously hard to figure out."

"But but but, nothing. They just add that to make it exciting. The point is all the regular forensic stuff, you figured it out. You didn't even see all those other people watching you as you explained it, did you?" He only shook his head in response. "They were paying more attention to you than the exhibit. You have what it takes to do that job." Something occurred to him.

"How can I even drive a car, or hold a gun with these?" He held up his hooves, seeing yet another drawback to losing his fingers. He looked at the tips. He used to chew his nails all the time. Now, he had no desire to put his hooves in his mouth. He didn't want to think about food he had touched to date.

She just shook her head and sighed. Karen thought for a moment before finally speaking, "Back in the second grade, you were tested to see if you were a gifted student. Do you remember that test?"

He stared at her incredulously. "You remember that!?" She nodded her head and waited. He thought about it for a minute. "There were some word problems, some questions about what I liked. And an essay."

"You wrote about flying back then, remember that part?"

His groaning signaled that he did, indeed, remember that part. "Oh jeez, that was the stupidest essay I ever wrote! They asked me what I thought if I could have a dog with wings and I said it would be really awesome, that he could fly around and catch robbers and cats that had climbed up trees. They sent me back to homeroom, and when next week rolled around and they called me back down to the front office, I thought I was being tested again. On the way I even told the math teacher I would be a while because I was being tested again. You know what they really wanted me for? To pay them back for a lunch meal I paid from the borrow fund. Real gifted. I felt like an idiot." He leaned back, dejected. Then he mumbled, "That was the start of many times I didn't want to be 'special.' "

"Don't you dare pity who you are, Jason!" Her terse rebuke stung a little, causing him to flinch. She didn't let up. "The very first thing you wrote about was going after bad guys. I knew why you thought about them going up trees, because that's what they showed in cartoons back when you were young. And those were the same cartoons I grew up watching, so don't even tell me I don't know what I'm talking about." Jason lowered the hoof he had just raised. His mother sighed. "Dogs usually run cats up trees but can't get them. A flying dog...well, a cat wouldn't be quite so smug anymore like in the cartoons, would it? Or bad guys?"

"I'm not a dog."

"No, but you are an adult now, or at least I hope you are." She breathed in and held it for a few seconds before letting it out. Her tone lightened. "Didn't you used to be a guard in this Equestria army you were in? Didn't they do police work?"

He shook his head. "No, mom. It was the Equestrian Guard. We protected the princesses. And did guard work. You know, patrol the streets, fight off monsters...patrolled more streets. Guard type stuff."

"But didn't you do anything else besides just stand there and hold a gun?"

"We had spears, mom! Equestria doesn't do...didn't do guns. With the trade exchange they're building up, who knows now. And anyway, I sucked as a guard, too! I kept getting in trouble, 'for not following orders' or for not standing my post forever and ever. I got in trouble for asking too many questions. For being 'Civil Patrol'. Trotting off to poke my nose into other pony's affairs. Real stupid shit-"

"Language."

"Grr...stuff, stupid stuff." He rubbed his temples with his hooves. "The running joke was whenever something weird happened, they would ask 'Where's Civil?' I wasn't even a good guard."

"Honey, you have ALWAYS asked a lot of questions, that's just who you are. You were always smaller than the other kids, but that didn't stop you from standing up to bullies, even when they tricked you into pushing or punching first. The school punished the first to punch, not the bully, remember? And you always wanted to solve mysteries. You couldn't do that as a guard?"

He shook his head again.

"What do you think an INVESTIGATOR does?" She waited to let that sink in. "He investigates. He asks questions. He is never satisfied. And he doesn't quit, just like someone else I know." She stared pointedly at her son. He was far too young to be having a midlife crisis, but given what he had been through, what they as a family had all been through, she could understand his feeling dejected from the lack of accepted work applications. She wouldn't abide by it, though. "I think when one door closes, another opens up." When he didn't respond, she pulled out the big guns. "Please, do it for me? Just send in the application, see what happens."

Mother's guilt. Sometimes it was direct, even sharp. Other times, it was insidious, like a slow cabin leak where the crew didn't find out until it was too late and the windows were crusted over with ice at 30,000 feet. He could see the ice on this one.

"I'll think about it." He pulled the folder closer to him and stared at it, pointedly ignoring the pen she was already holding. When it was clear he wasn't going to write anything, she set the pen down. He got up to walk into the living room where Liberty was watching My Little Pony dvd's. Of course.

She called after him, "It's Friday, and we're still practicing Lent until next week, despite whatever they do over in Equestria." The groan she heard did not make her very happy, but she was trying. She bustled around in the fridge, "Dear, we're having shrimp creole tonight, is that okay?"

He lit up, just like she knew he would. "Shrimp creole? I love that stuff! It's one of the few meats I can still eat, too!"

His mother continued to pull out ingredients from the fridge, shallots, a bag of raw shrimp, broccoli for a vegetable side dish. "I know...Miss Pink filled us in. Anyway, I also have the internet, looked up some more stuff for ponies."

That got him a little worried. He stuck his head back into the kitchen, "Um, mom? Ponies is a very specific thing to be able to find out. Like, buried under a bunch of other...um, things."

There was a long pause as she went to chop up the shallots. She stared at the board she was chopping at, as though that were the only thing in her existence. "Mm-hmm."

Civil swallowed. "I'm not into that stuff. I mean, I don't do whatever it was they depicted. That..I wouldn't even know about-"

A quick scrape of the knife sent all the onion bits into a bowl, a deftness displaying years of practice. "Whatever you do in your spare time is none of my business. Just keep the noise down. And remember the rules."

"I'm going to go watch T.V. until it's ready." A very red-faced pegasus stumbled into the living room, his mother nodding as she moved to shelling the shrimp.

"I'll be in here cooking, and thinking of other things to research." A clatter in the living room meant the channel selector had been dropped, followed by Liberty arguing that she was there first. "And we ARE going to mass tonight." Another groan. This time she smiled to herself. He never did like church, but maybe church will like him.

***

"I never liked going to church." He stared out the car window. It was night time. His belly was full. And he wasn't feeling the dogma.

"I know."

"You know. So why isn't Liberty going?"

"She is too young and she might fly off into the rafters."

Opened his mouth...then closed it.

"Okay I could see that happening. Why me?"

"I think it will do you some good."

"And dad?"

"..............................he had bowling tonight."

Civil snorted. Figures.

"Feels like everywhere I turn there is some religious thing trying to make me believe something or other." He stared at the author.

eat me<

"Look," Karen said, "if you hate it that much, you can wait in the car. I thought you might want to speak to the priest afterwards."

"Why on earth would I do that!?!"

"It's his calling to listen. Maybe he can help you find yours."

Civil stared out the window and muttered, "...my calling."

The beginning of mass was as he remembered it, with added features. Staring as they walked into the church. Staring as they walked into the main room. Staring as they found a bench to sit in. There was a priest, somewhere, though where his head was situated when walking, spotting anything through a crowd was impossible without flying, and he was NOT pulling that stunt in here.

He paused at the pew and looked up at Christ portrayed on a large cross above the altar. What would it be like, to love someone so much, even though they wanted to kill you. Even at the moment of death, he was filled with love, willing to bear all their sins. And most around the world wouldn't even know it. Well...until hundreds of years of teaching the scripture, he supposed. He sat and the murmur of the crowd continued until chimes were chimed and the organ started playing. Mass had begun. After the beginning procession, the priest welcomed everyone in the season of Lent and thus the night went, standing, sitting, kneeling, singing psalms, mouthing prayers he barely remembered, or they outright changed since he last did these routines. At length it came time for the priest to give his sermon. It was a Catholic thing.

The priest stood and walked to the altar. He looked up briefly to the crucifix of Christ, then to the audience before him and his voice range out through large speakers suspended high above.

"Believe it or not, I had a crisis of faith, mere minutes before the beginning of mass. Oh, not one of those large crisis' where I question our faith, where God is leading us. No, no. This was somewhat more disheartening. I had a rare horrible crisis of forgetting what I was going to say in this sermon."

There was a low level of chuckling that rolled through the seated assembly. Civil could already tell what this sermon would be about.

The priest raised his hands, "No, it's true. As you can tell, this is not the sermon I had memorized. I can always save it for another time, maybe next year's Lent. What replaced the words in my head were questions. Questions of where we stood in the universe. His universe. You see, it wasn't all that long ago that we discovered our world was not the center of everything. The great explorers Copernicus, Galileo, Kepler, so on and so forth. They discovered we were a small, but no less vital part, of this great existence. The apostles, willing to strike out on faith and follow the Son of God, they were in their own way explorers. All of you before me...you are today's explorers, willing to take a leap of faith and believe, without needing proof in the form of science shoved in your face. And yet, we are all the same, in that we question. Question why we are here, how we fit into this existence. We question who we are...maybe...question are we worthy of His Love?"

"See, we have the Catechism, a series of questions with answers already provided, and we the church try to answer your questions even before they are asked so you won't have this crisis of faith, that maybe you can apply these things we learn of our faith into our everyday lives. I know there are those who do not believe, and that is okay! Really, it is. Blind faith is a dangerous thing, but true ignorance can be worse."

He raised his hand, pointing up, and raised his voice, "I say TRUE ignorance, coupled with arrogance that any given man, woman...or pony, knows everything they need to know and cannot learn more! That is dangerous." He lowered his voice and continued, his eyes finally coming to rest on Civil, "And yet, I am ignorant. I can admit that...I have to admit that, since I forgot my speech." He chuckled, and the crowd chuckled with him. Civil noted many of them starting to relax. He supposed a humble priest can have that effect.

"I was standing there, greeting you by hand and mouth, and the strangest thing showed up. It wasn't a pony. It wasn't even a pony that might be interested in what I had to say. It was a question. How do ponies fit into God's plan? It was a year ago that I did look into the matter. I saw the stories, read the reports. I even spoke to one or two ponies when I saw them at the grocery store, and yet, I never truly came face to face with the question of how they fit into His plan. And then it came to me, as I saw our guest walking by, coming to listen to me speak and explore the mystery of our faith with us."

He raised his voice again, "You see this question was SO BIG, it completely wiped away my speech!" The mass laughed again, as did he. "So big...it left me so very small, and ignorant, and aware of my ignorance. You see, even if we were to ignore the fact that all ponies here on Earth were human before their change, they were PONIES before they were human. They existed elsewhere, far away. So far, that only the machinations of God could account for us even knowing about them. So where do they fit in God's plan?" He paused for several seconds, then stared out among the other humans. "Where do WE fit? They love, we love. They hurt, we hurt. They fulfill their life's greatest dreams and wishes, do we not as well? To that end, what of other possible aliens out there? What of the people here, who may not practice our faith or even believe in God, are they simply not created by God? The history of our world is rife with crusades, and bloodshed, simply to force one sentient being to believe in what another does...who is the ignorant one now?"

He let that settle in for a while, then he walked back to the altar and placed his hand on the marble corner. "I have read stories where these beautiful creatures were treated less than animals. True, God gave us dominion over the animals, but when animals speak to us and have emotions far deeper than ours, now who is the animal?" His voice rang out, echoing into the high ceiling. "You may make your judgement of them as you see fit, but I believe you judge them as you do your fellow man, and if you judge them less, you will be more ignorant for it. Our guest showed great courage to come here, amongst us humans, to at least hear what we have to say. And I say, you are welcome, all of you, now and always, into the hands of God."

The priest walked back to his seat and sat down. Civil was perfectly still, attention rapt by the priest's words. He didn't even know he was crying until Karen dabbed a napkin to his cheek. He blinked away the moisture and nodded his thanks to her, taking the paper to clean himself up a little.

Later when it was time to show each other the sign of friendship by shaking hands, there were many that came over to shake his hoof. He could have been among a large herd of ponies enjoying each other's company and it would have been the same.

Once mass had ended and the priest bid they go in peace, he waited behind. Several people also stayed, hoping to speak to him, but he politely told them he wished to speak to the priest as soon as possible and apologized for not giving them the same opportunity. They were very friendly and thanked him for having mass with them.

Karen smiled, probably one of the few really good warm smiles she'd had in a long time. "See, I knew you would get something out of it."

He nodded, "Yes, mom. You were right." He caught one of the ushers' attention and asked where he could go for a private consultation and the man gave him some directions. His mother raised an eyebrow. He said, "I uh...still have some more questions."

She grinned and nodded. "Take your time, I'll wait in the car."

He shook his head. "Actually, I think I will fly home. It's not that far away."

"You sure?" She had a look of concern but he waved a wing at her.

"I got this."

She gathered her things and bid him a safe flight back. "No dropping things this time." Oh shit she found out. Sigh. Sorry God, your house, your rules.

Trying not to garner some godwrath quite so soon, he wandered around to one of the offices in the back where the usher had directed him to go. He found what looked like a lounge with a table, chairs, a pot of coffee, and a kitchenette. It also had a hat stand which held a nice shirt and slacks on a hanger. He could hear someone moving around behind the closed door. It wasn't long before the man stepped through the door as Civil contemplated the coffee. He was wearing a green chasuble, a sort of robe that could have been a table cloth with a hole in the center tossed over the head and worn on the body. Civil never understand the clothing churches used.

"Ah, my son, please have some coffee. I hope my adlib sermon did not put you to sleep. I meant what I said, you really did throw me off my game."

Civil grinned. This guy was certainly more approachable than the same man standing below a crucifix twice his size at the altar. The pegasus stepped over and got a cup. He checked with the priest, but the man shook his head. When Civil came back over to the table and hopped up onto a seat, the man sat down near him. "If you hadn't heard before, my name is Richard Bennings. Father Bennings if you wish."

The pegasus nodded. "My name is Civil Patrol. Civil, if we are to be informal."

The man lifted his head and said, "Civil it is, then. How may I help a truly wondrous being such as yourself?"

A soft snort was the answer. Along with, "I don't consider myself wondrous. And you have more faith, obviously, than I do, when it comes to how we fit in the universe." Civil adjusted his body and glanced down. "We are supposed to be as cookie cutter as it gets when it's all about 'the fit', and yet, I haven't found my cutie-mark years after I should have, or like most others of my kind. I guess what I'm trying to say is...I'm just a lost soul, along with a bunch of other lost souls. I don't know what it is I'm supposed to do."

Father Bennings sat back, thinking. He hummed softly to himself, then stated, "Yours is not a crisis of faith. Merely, a crisis of destiny, perhaps." Civil did not look convinced, or even agreeable. The priest turned one hand over, palm facing up, then the other hand. "Our two worlds may not be all that different. We need, we desire. Our journey through life is one of self discovery. Is not the journey even more important than the destination?"

"It's just that," Civil responded, "I can't help but feel I would be in the Royal Guard all over again, only working for some city or county jurisdiction. Taking orders again. Sure we don't have police in Equestria, but...I dunno. It seemed like I didn't fit in, over there in the Guard, running and screaming into battle with this quasi military that also did policing action in the cities and townships. When I was first starting, I was a crusader for the cause, to serve and protect the princesses and the land. If some innocent needed help, I ran in with such zeal, fought battles, patrolled.......stuff. Now..." He shrugged. "Now I feel my 'destiny' is me bouncing around aimlessly. A ship without a sail. My mother suggested I do police work. I just think it would be more of the same. Or...I wouldn't even be good enough for that, for people to depend on in their moment of need."

The man nodded. "Well, that is something to think about, then. I'm not sure how they do things in your world, but in the United States, police do not have a constitutional duty to serve and protect. Did you know that?" Civil sat up, blinking and shook his head. "That is according to the United States Supreme Court. We have had several mass shootings and although legally you would not be forced to help, society might think poorly of any inaction."

"That's insane! I don't give a rat's ass what the Supreme Court says! And I don't care what society thinks, either. If someone needs help, I'm helping them." He eyed the priest, "Why would you even bring that up?"

"To make sure you were making the right decision." Before Civil could even protest about making a decision, the man got up, walked over to a drawer and pulled it open. He fished out something and walked back, placing it on the table. It was a laminated card with Saint Michael, the archangel, standing atop a plummeting Satan, a spear pressed down upon the fallen angel's head. Civil pulled it over to him and picked it up with a hoof. Then he turned it over. On the reverse was the police officer's prayer.

"When you falter, question, or hesitate, read that. I have first responders come to me all the time, and we go over that prayer. There is one particular passage in the prayer, if I may. 'Make us the terror of burglars, the friend of children and law-abiding citizens, kind to strangers, polite to bores, strict with law-breakers and impervious to temptations.' So much of that emcompasses the best we can hope for from our police officers. Can you not find it in yourself to live up to some, if not all, of those things?"

The pegasus read the whole prayer, pausing on the part the priest had recited. He snorted to himself and murmured, "Polite to bores."

Father Bennings nodded. "God teaches us to love, and to be patient. While it is His business to forgive, our society can only function if laws are followed, else we all would act like animals, and I dare say you ponies would then be our masters." Civil looked up sharply, studying the man. No...he had meant every word, and knew what was at stake here.

"You brought up the Supreme Court ruling to test me?"

The man shook his head. "No. Merely for you to answer your own question. 'Am I worthy?' I also dare say, are we worthy for you to be so selfless and to run to the fight when most of us would flee."

Civil blinked, and for the second time, he had to wipe his eyes. "You're too good at your job, Father."

The man stood, having felt their meeting concluded. "I will pray that you have faith in your job. Go in peace, my son. And if you cannot find peace, then bring such war to the minions of Satan, it would make Saint Michael proud." They both shook hands to hooves, each clasped by the other, and Civil stepped out of the church far lighter than he had walking in. Hell, he felt he could take on Discord's minions all by himself. Then he remembered Luke's friend bragging to him right before he bought it in Star Wars. Yah, maybe not so much that.

The frustration he felt earlier was gone, too. True he hadn't actually decided yet what to do about the police application, yet
there was a steady feeling, something he had found himself feeling countless times when he was chasing down clues or sweating out crooked royal court members back in Canterlot. He had felt it when he made that doomed trek from Canterlot with those fillies, before Discord had caught up to him.

He felt a feeling of purpose, and he knew this was the sanest choice he had ever made in his entire life.

***

"This is insane!" An assistant chief.

"How do you figure?" Another assistant chief.

There were a few heavy hitters in the room, along with the Dallas Police Department firing range lieutenant and a representative from the academy.

"He's a pony! Not even one of those magical horned ones."

"Unicorn," pointed out the range rep.

"That."

The chief of police said, "Technically he does have magic."

"But nothing useful. He can't drive, can't hold a gun. He can't even do a sit up because he has a tail for christ sakes."

The chief replied, "I think we are missing the bigger picture here." A pause. "He has wings." Everyone else just looked around, not getting it.

"Look, what does a squad car really do? It carries a radio, computer, holds equipment, has lights and siren. He can do all of that, and since he can fly OVER traffic, he doesn't need the lights and siren."

"Unless we stick that on him." They laughed. Except the chief.

"Ma'am, you are thinking Air One, yes."

She leaned forward, slapping the desk, "Damn straight I'm thinking Air One!"

That got their attention. One chief asked, "So...like Pony One?"

"That sounds so stupid," the original dissenter said.

"Alright, how about P-1?" she asked.

"Papa one," the academy rep stated. The others started to nod.

"See? Now we're talking," the chief said.

"This is so strange. What about engagements? He can't even hold a gun."

The range rep leaned forward, clearing his throat, "That's not actually a problem. The military has already been outfitting ponies with hardware. Saw it in a news article. It's just a matter of contacting the right people, spinning up the range instructors, that sort of thing. Would take two months for our people to get it squared away, plenty of time before he hits the range."

"You're serious about this," the assistant chief said. He saw he was outnumbered.

She nodded. "Yes. Approve the application and give him the good news."

The man looked back at the other assistant chief, "Can't wait for Dallas to get 'the good news'."

The chief of Dallas Police ignored him. She had bigger things to deal with, like a press conference filled with a dozen journalists asking far worse questions than her subordinates here.

Author's Note

I have no affiliation or ties to any businesses mentioned. I strictly looked them up for flavor.

In For A Pony, In For A Pound...ing. No, not sex.

1835 Esoteric Way
Frontier Tx, 79706

Ask him questions. He will ascue answers.

Liberty looked up at Civil. "That's it?" He nodded and dragged his phone back to him to reread it, despite the fact he'd practically memorized the email. There was no originating address. He almost erased/spam flagged it right off the bat when he opened his email that morning, but the Frontier address stayed his hoof. He then waited a few hours for Liberty to finally wake up from her new habit of sleeping in. Before that, he would read it, walk away, come back and read it again. He had done this until Karen used brunch as a weapon of mass distraction. His father was out of town for a few days working in Fort Worth so it was the three of them on the homestead.

Karen had glanced at it once and told him that's what he got for putting his email out there. Funny part was...he never included it in the forums.

"I don't know, Civ. Seems kinda creepy." Liberty had started calling him that. He wouldn't have minded...but Hot Pink tended to call him that, too. He and Hot had been chatting off and on for a while, mostly centered on when he was going to visit. In fact, he was about to call her today because he had also gotten an acceptance invitation to take the initial testing at the Dallas Police headquarters.

Then this email happened. Suffice to say, being called a pet name by your mom that your possible future marefriend is using for you tended to scale down the creepiness of most anything else. He chewed the inside of his cheek darkly. She had stolen two pet names now.

"Sooooo, I guess we are going to visit this, uh, whatever it is?"

He looked up at her. She was sitting on the kitchen table and appeared a little afraid, but also excited. He felt the same way. After all, this was a bonified mystery. A ponified mystery! He nodded.

She asked, "Road trip?!"

He grinned, "Road trip." Then he glanced down at his phone wistfully. "It'd probably be polite to call her, let her know we'll be in town." His eyes raised to meet a very perturbed looking young pony. "What?"

"Do NOT tell her you are visiting because you got some weird email from an unknown source!"

Civil scoffed, sitting back. "Oh come on, I'm not that crass. I'll just tell her...that, you know, we got an email, and...-"

"That's EXACTLY why you don't tell her!"

He scooted back his seat, throwing his hooves up in the air. "FINE, what AM I supposed to tell her?"

Liberty walked forward on the table, sat, and kicked the phone a few inches toward him. "Hi Hot Pinky! Despite my depressive stance on having to get a job before visiting you, it looks like I'm being invited to test for the Dallas police! So that means I can fiiiiiinally visit you. Also, we might have a lead on helping my most awesomest bestest mother regain her memory, so we might take a side trip before hooking up. Also, that same awesomest bestest mother will be with me, if you don't mind. You DID say you wanted to get to know her, right? Anyway, we'll see you this weekend!" She smiled sweetly. "How about that?"

He slowly breathed in and then out, closing his eyes. Opening them, he seethed, "We are not 'hooking up.' Both my mothers raised me to be a good pony. And did you have to lay it on thick about me needing a job before visiting?"

She held up her hoof and counted off, "Yup. First, it's the truth, both hooking and jobbing. B, it is meant to distract her from the big reason, getting my memories back. And Four, I am a secondary distraction in case your depressing reason isn't enough."

Civil's eye twitched as he tried to ignore her deliberately miscounted checklist. She was trolling. As for the rest, he was about to argue with her reasoning when it occurred to him that on the whole, it was brilliant, if a bit sarcastic on Liberty's part. The downside though, Liberty would be there too. So much for anything...personal. His mind drifted a bit.

He noticed she was grinning at him as if reading his mind. With the dopey look he realized he was wearing, she might as well have been. He merely said, "You're right," and slid the phone back to her, number already dialing. "You tell her."

After an embarrassing session of filly and mare gossiping about an adorably shy stallion (Tongue held after the 'methinks he protest too much' comment), a few kisses and hugs goodbye from their mother with lots of luck tossed in, they were at the ATM machine. Liberty insisted on having him get money since they would be on a date with Hot Pink. They had a short discussion about mares picking up the tab and holding the door for stallions as the Equestrian etiquette, and a small tap to his shin when he pointed out that the M in ATM also meant machine, i.e. Automated Teller Machine machine. Of course, Liberty's viewpoint on his being a gentlestallion overpowered his cultural history lesson, so he inserted his card to check his balance before he pulsed anything out. Didn't need any surprises regarding finances if he could help it.

He stared at the readout.

Liberty, being the short stuff that she was, hopped up and down. "What? How much you got? Come on, are you going to get her flowers or do we have to go grazing in a field like some common livestock?"

None of that fazed him. The over five-hundred thousand dollar balance did.

"Holy shit," he muttered.

She stopped and stared up. "Is.....Civ, is it that bad?" He reached down with one wing and lifted her up.

".....HOLY SHIT!!!"

He put her down. She scampered about. "My son is rich, rich! Money's our bitch, bitch! Gonna dine and paaaartay! He's so gonna geeeet laaaa-" A black-tipped wing clamped her jaws shut.

"Not a word of this to anypony, ESPECIALLY Hot Pink. Got it?" He was still staring at the screen.

Liberty pried his wingtip off with her hooves and frowned, confused. "But why? She'll know you are successful and well off and-"

"And what about her? She lost everything, remember? You want her to feel bad and me feel more like shit about her circumstances...that is the quickest way to do it." He tapped a few buttons and got a couple of hundred out. That should cover expenses for the weekend at least.

In retrospect, he might have skipped over the financial portion of his paperwork after he learned about the somewhat forced retainer clause with the Air Force, but they did come through on reactivating his bank account. And then some.

Missing in action was a horrible situation for any soldier and their family to endure. Upon return, pay continues, along with combat zone and hazard incentives, but nothing can fix the mental trauma all parties involved have to suffer. Knowing he was in a similar situation that ended up with him still being alive, he took no pleasure in finding himself better off. On behalf of all military persons, he refused to feel good about it.

"Hay, earth to Civ, you are looking a bit morose up there...it's just money."

He wanted to gripe back that it wasn't just money...and yet, wasn't it? It was people that mattered. Ponies. Everyone. Money was just a means to an end. He shook himself. He was going to see a couple of very special persons and or ponies today, so he didn't need to get depressed about what he couldn't change at this point. Giving a small mental prayer wishing all his former military brethren well, he picked her up, situated her in the saddle and opened his flight pad to officially start their journey.

***

The flight was a leisurely forty minute hop. Liberty enjoyed herself fully, along with learning not to reach up and snag clouds with her hooves when Civil mistakenly thought it'd be cool to go near the bottom of one. While she was getting better at flying these last couple of months, he wasn't about to chance her getting ripped out of the saddle as a good start for the freefall recovery portion of her lessons.

They didn't immediately set down in the center of town, though they were both torn about it. True they wanted to see the sights...but flying NEVER got old. Frontier was mostly a single street with several business buildings newly built and small neighborhoods budding up around it. That street was likely to be the 'main drag' until more businesses and residents moved in. Normally, the area east of Odessa and south of Midland was scrub land.

Most of it still was, but from the air it was like watching an oasis slowly color in a normally drab looking landscape. Each house had its own vibrant garden, trees, fountains. The houses themselves were only vaguely similar to human structures. It was like ponies took the normal square blocky schematics and put them through a fun house. He could tell which were human houses, and which were pony, and there were a lot more pony than human houses down there.

Not paying attention, they almost slammed into a cloud house. He pulled up hard and buzzed a mare who was hanging some towels out to dry. Rolling over twice and then back-winging, he apologized to her as she shook her hoof at him, all the while Liberty was hanging by the straps screaming in ecstatic delight. The mare didn't seem all that angry either once she noticed the foal on his back. His ears caught something about 'you break my new house, you rebuild it' as she shook her head with a smile, going back to work.

Now that he was aware of the cloud houses, he could pick them out. A few were near to town, but one or two were more to the outskirts of the development. Liberty kept leaning forward to yell about the sights above and below, so he checked his phone GPS and nodded, pointing at a certain street. She crossed her legs with a pout, yelling over the wind, "Do we have to end the ride so soon?"

He slowed to a hover and looked back at her so he didn't have to shout as well. "Your memories, your choice." She frowned, but he knew he had her. Eventually she sighed and pointed down, and he obliged by circling into a spiral. Finally he alighted on the street before a brightly red and yellow colored house, its second and third story twisting left and right off-center from the bottom floor. Definitely a pony house. He walked up the sidewalk until they were almost at the door. The small mailbox next to the doorframe had a lid that said 'Living Residence.'

He snorted. "Hope the residence isn't actually alive. That would be pony shit even Mom could appreciate."

"Not funny," murmured Liberty. He looked askance at her. Earlier she was all but pushing him out the door to get here. Now, before this door, she showed hesitation. He wasn't without sympathy. The invitation to try out for the police department meant a completely different future than he ever thought possible. That email he showed Liberty meant a completely different past than she ever knew, IF the right answers were on the other side of this door.

He snorted again. What was with doors, lately? Like, he was always standing in front of some damn door, shift his hooves anticipating another staining of some kind. He noticed the buckles on his saddlebags, the emblems still swirling mysteriously, waiting for his cutie-mark. Better wait longer, bitches, he thought. He had other things to do besides worry about his own destiny and what his buckles looked like. Then he thought about the bags.

"Hide in my saddlebags until I figure out if it's safe."

She looked at him for a few seconds before concentrating on undoing her seat straps. After many trips in the air these last several weeks, she had gotten quite adept at working them. Pulling up the side flap of the bag, she noted it was far less roomy this time than when she had first flown Saddlebag Class. "And we know how this ended up last time," she muttered, shoving her back end down so the flap could close properly. He said nothing, giving her a strained smile until the flap was down. He left it unbuckled, just in case. Also...any other day he would have secured it just to piss her off, but not today of all days.

Steeling himself for what might be behind the door, he raised his hoof and knocked three times. There was a minute of waiting, but then the handle glowed and the door opened. On the other side stood an older stallion, a unicorn. He had tan fur with complimentary mane and tail that were ruddy brown, but several strands of gray streaked through the hairs. He wore half-moon reading glasses which gave him a sort of Dumbledore look. The unicorn tilted his head down to look over the glasses, catching Civil with a piercing blue-eyed gaze. "Ah, a fellow pony, calling on me. To what do I owe this visit?"

He seemed cordial enough, Civil thought to himself. The younger pegasus must have been standing there a few seconds too long for social etiquette because he felt a small poke through his saddlebag. Obviously from Liberty, it must have been one of her karate chop kicks. Barely noticeable.

"Uh, hi. I was told you could possibly help me out with a problem, or at least fill in a few gaps. Actually, I was told to ask you questions and you would...ascue...answers. You see, it's about my mom."

A look of understanding swept over the unicorn's face. "Indeed...so you're the one. She wasn't too clear who was visiting today, but that's within her purview, I suppose." He nodded more to himself than anypony else present.

Civil raised his brows, "She? You knew I was coming here?"

The other pony scrunched up his face and raised a hoof to his temples, rubbing them. "Damn secrets. Far too many for me to remember, or what not to tell." He stepped back, waving his hoof for them to enter. "Please, do come in."

Taking several tentative steps, Civil wiped his hooves on the mat just inside the doorway. Even though both human and pony societies had a traditional mat outside for the heavy stuff, a proper pony home had mats inside as well, made of softer material. While it might have had a more practical role in the past, now it was customary to show one's host respect for their home by wiping off hooves a second time in front of them, establishing harmony and balance between guest and host within the household.

The unicorn continued on down the hallway to the kitchen, horn glowing to close the front door. He displayed a slight limp. "For the record I didn't mention her gender." He sighed. "I was about to make some coffee, if you want some. Late mornings don't have that same zest as they used to when I was younger."

Civil glanced at the time on his phone. It was 2 pm. Unicorns tended to lose track of time, he reminded himself. He nodded his head out of habit, despite the other stallion not seeing him, "Yes, sir, I wouldn't mind." He felt a few taps from Liberty, as if she were demanding some, too. He jostled his bag a bit. He was NOT giving any foals caffeine products today. His eyes wandered ahead of him and noticed the unicorn's cutie-mark, a collage of a small house, shirt, and a pie. In the center was a snake wrapped around a needle. Probably in the medical field, Civil mused. Seeing the unicorn continue to limp, he asked delicately, "Uh, Doc, are you alright?"

Several items floated through the air when he entered the kitchen. Beans were being grinded in a small blender, a kettle of water was settling onto a stovetop, and two mugs were floated to the countertop, awaiting the hot beverage. The unicorn glanced over to him. "Minor ringbone, nothing too debilitating. I suppose I could get another unicorn to do a subdermal shaving of the buildup, but I'm a bit superstitious of others working on me. Tartarus, some of my old colleagues are still relearning their more basic surgical spells. Don't need a 'Oh THAT'S how I used to do that' moment on these old legs." He got a better look at Civil and added, "Thanks for asking, though. Before we continue, my name is Abstract Living. The message I got was that somepony from the past would be needing my help in the near future to help somepony else's future." He didn't seem at all phased by that garbledy gook.

The pegasus snorted, "She is about as cryptic as you can get, it would seem." He looked on questioningly, hoping he'd get more information on the mysterious messenger.

Abstract winced slightly, "Yes, 'she' can be a minx at times." Seeing the look on his guest's face, he shook his head, "And she would do Unspeakable Damage to me if I were to talk about her more." At Civil's confused look, the unicorn asked, "Unspeakable...? Old MUD game? Multi-user Domain?" Civil stared at him blankly. Abstract muttered, "Guess the great quest for the Ultimoose doesn't ring any bells." He sighed and turned back to the grinder. "It was an old computer game back in the day. Something I spent far too many lab hours doing instead of other college pursuits, such as socializing." He turned back to his work and hummed to himself for a minute, then paused while saying over his shoulder, "I don't suppose I get to know who you are, do I?"

The pegasus blinked and cringed, "Sorry! I've had a lot on my mind. The name's Civil Patrol, sir."

The grinder fell and glowed again, the unicorn just catching it before it hit the floor. He spun around and stared at him. "Patrol?? Little Patrol!?!" At a confirming nod, the unicorn rushed forward and caught Civil in a fierce hug, "Dear Sisters! I never thought you'd be the one visiting me!" He stepped back, looking the shocked pegasus up and down. "Look at you, you've grown! Tartarus, you weren't more than a ball of feathers when your herd last visited Canterlot."

Civil frowned, taken aback by the unicorn's renewed interest in him, "I remember touring the unicorn school in the city once when I was a colt, but I don't remember..." He didn't want to be rude by finishing the sentence.

The unicorn laughed, "That's okay, my boy! You were too busy watching the students mix liquids, hoping something would blow up. We were all far more interested in seeing you than worrying about such silly things like introductions. And seeing how your mother was doing, too...at the time. Still, it is good to see you again." Pain crossed the unicorn's face. "You said this visit is about your mom. I am truly sorry for what you had to endure back then. Your entire herd, even."

"You knew my mother?" Civil asked, blinking in surprise.

Chuckling, the unicorn went back to concentrating on the coffee. "Yes, indeed. We all did. She was one of our best low level couriers between Manehattan and Canterlot. That stretch was called the M.C. Hammer back then. Not sure what it is now, given the possible terrain upheaval and resultant weather pattern changes...at least until Celestia can wrangle it back with the fliers." Abstract looked up wistfully, "Suppose she could enlist some unicorns for that, too?"

Civil shrugged. "The landscape is still a mess. Best estimate by the eggheads is a decade for topography, local weather, then global weather patterns to return to normal, though the princess is optimistic to see it done by five years." He worked his mouth, the doubt prevalent in his voice.

Abstract shrugged and glanced at Civil, "Putting our world back together is something I do not envy of her, but Creator's speed to the princess, nonetheless. Anyway, it was called the Hammer on account of very vicious crosswinds at altitude along the way. Bad north easterlies, but she could do it, and fast." He spared Civil a glance, amending, "Your mother, that is. I'm sure ol Celeste could do that in the blink of a horn. Anyway, Libs made the Hammer run in fourteen ponysecs."

Civil raised his hoof, replying heatedly, "I do not want to hear anything to do with my mom and pony sex."

The unicorn's mouth wrinkled into an irritated frown as he glared back. "Oh for Celestia's sake. Secs. S. E. C. S. It's a scientifically established unit of distance over time as the pegasus flies. What are those feather brains teaching you colts up in Cloudsdale!?"

Civil crossed his forelegs, sitting back. "I was raised east of Baltimare, not in Cloudsdale. I only commuted there as a teenager, and they taught me just fine, thankyou." He put his legs down, frowning slightly. "We had to live on the coast that whole time though...something about my mother needing the salted air."

Abstract closed his eyes, nodding, "With the pain, yes. Again, I am truly sorry. Doubly so."

Civil tilted his head. "Why are you 'doubly sorry?' "

Glowing coffee grounds poured into a filter over a clear decanter while the hot kettle floated over it. Abstract looked up, "Why, on account of your mother contracting magikemia while in our service, though that was before you were born." He sighed, "She was really good at her work, too. A classy flier." Pouring the piping hot water through the filter, he floated one mug over, poured the darker liquid in and offered it to Civil, who took it with a murmured 'thanks'.

After sipping it, Civil said quietly, "I never knew what the disease was called. Magikemia." He grimaced, the word bitter in his mouth. "I always knew she was sick from something. Just...nopony ever talked about it." An odd bristly feeling came over him. He eyed the unicorn and asked, "She got it while in your service? How?"

Abstract chose that moment to take a sip from his own mug, hiding his irritation. He knew the pegasus didn't mean anything by it. And yet, it was almost an accusation. He leveled his gaze back at the pegasus, "It is natural to assume we might have been the cause of it, or contributed to it. Far from it..." He paused, tilting his head, "I suppose had she not been employed by ASCUE...we might have some small blame, from an outsider's point of view. Our work required low visibility. Nobody suspects a filly, especially in a big city like Manehattan. A beautiful filly, who turned into a vibrant mare that fought everyday to be alive so she could see you just one minute longer."

There was some moving around in the saddlebag, probably a combination of posing and embarrassment. Civil wasn't immune to the stirring up of colthood memories and the emotions associated with them, either, so he spoke carefully. "Magikemia. In the Guard, we came across a unicorn stricken by it. She had severe headaches. And her horn..." He shuddered thinking about it.

Abstract nodded, "That's magikemia for you." He took another sip and placed the mug down on the table. "I imagine this is your great quest to find out about your mother." He chuckled to himself. "Your Ultimoose, so to speak."

Civil rolled his eyes, "Whatever, Doc. I need to know about the disease, how she got it, if it is likely to come back...among other...things."

The unicorn frowned, listening to the list. "Hm. Likely to come back? I've never known anypony to be cured of it, let alone contracting it again. In all honesty, we didn't even know she had it until she was bedridden later in life. We traced it back through her genome and finally figured out at what point in time she had contracted the vile disease. It was the day she got her cutie mark."

In his excitement, Civil fumbled the mug, but thankfully there was a helpful unicorn nearby to magically grab the fluid and container, floated them both to the table and set them down in their proper places, one inside the other. Civil exclaimed, "The same day? But then...her talent is linked to the disease! They built a statue in her honor." His eyes darted back and forth, his creative thinking taking over and linking previously innocuous facts together. "Not in her honor...but in the deed, if her talent IS the deed..." He looked away, bewildered. "I don't understand, how could her talent be linked to magikemia?"

Liberty could not contain herself anymore and poked her head out. "Hay! Are you talking about that statue of liberty on my ass?"

Abstract did a double-take at the tiny foal sticking out of the bag. "Why hello there, what a sweet little...wait." He glanced up at Civil, perplexed. "How is she talking at such a high level at her age? She can't be more than a couple months old, if her teeth are anything to go by. And such vulgarity." If he was offended, it was masked by his clinical curiosity as he peered closer at her.

She licked her teeth, then smirked and started climbing out of the bag. "Forget my age, I want to know about this statue-"

In doing so, she rolled out. With deft skill, Civil twisted his wing around so she ended up sliding down the inside curvature to the floor in a sitting position like it was her very own park slide. She grinned up at him, nodding, then got up onto all fours. "Let's get back to the disease and how I got it."

The unicorn was at a loss. True, he'd seen some weird things in his time, and over the years the term weird was getting used fewer and fewer. But this was truly new. And weird. "How...? How could you get magikemia? There's not enough aether saturation in this world to make that even a possibility for a foal your age, or most anypony." He glanced at the ceiling and muttered, "One of the few perks of living here." He stepped closer, peering down at her. She finally caught on that she had two large stallions towering over her, so she backed up until she bumped into Civil's leg.

Civil cleared his throat, getting Abstract's attention. "Hold up, I think we are on separate topics. You said my mother got the disease the day she got her mark. She got sick from gaining her mark?"

"What?" asked Abstract, glancing up. Going from him to her and him again, he said, "N..no, son, your mother's mark did not get her sick. Look, we were told that on one particular run from Canterlot to Manehattan, she did a very brave thing, saved the entire city. Quite possibly Equestria itself. A statue was built to honor that event."

"But, I've visited it. In the bay. It doesn't even look like her, or an older her, for that matter. It looks like...like any..."

Abstract smiled softly, "Like any other mare, yes?"

The pegasus nodded.

"That was the point," sighed Abstract. "The EUP," he began, then ammended, "the Royal Guard, they were afraid of retaliation from the criminal element she stopped. So, they made it older looking, more generic. They did not publicize who it was, only that it was to honor an anonymous heroine. And of course, the cirumstances which earned her the statue were covered up, diluted by various stories. Even her mark had its own false origins, spread by hoof-picked operatives."

Civil muttered derisively, "The Solar Wind."

Abstract coughed, then shook his head, "It would seem I am not the only one with secrets."

"What did she do, exactly?"

The unicorn furrowed his brow in frustration, "Only the princess and a few of her top guards know. Shining might, though he was young at the time. If he is back in Canterlot now, he might give you access to the archives, then you could find out. Well, IF the archives still exist. Not sure how much is left now." He picked up his mug again and drank from it, then muttered, "It would have been easier if she'd simply told you herself. I wish she were alive."

"She is alive."

"What?" The unicorn's eyes lit up. "Then, it worked! The experiment, the project! They found a cure and revived her?!"

"Not exactly. She has no memory."

"What do you mean? The Resurrection Project had nothing to do with mind manipulation. What happened to her? Is she on Earth, or still in Equestria?"

"Ask her yourself." Civil looked down at the tiny foal at his hooves. She tightened her wings to her sides, smiled, and waved a dainty hoof.

Abstract stared for a solid two minutes before stating, "Holy Horseapples." This time, his mug did fall to the floor, spraying shards of porcelain and coffee liquid everywhere. Liberty whipped around behind Civil's hoof to hide. He hissed and squinted his eyes shut, doing all he could to not move his leg and subject the foal to the scalding liquid. Was it too much to ask not to get coffee on his hooves? AGAIN?!?

The unicorn swore under his breath and went about cleaning the area, horn glowing to mop up the mess.

"Look Doc, she doesn't remember anything from her past life. Even when we tried to recite the curse, her heart stopped. We're just here for some answers."

Clearly distracted by the hiding foal and the mess he was working over, he glanced up absentmindedly, "What do you mean she has no memory? Of course she has no memory, she's an infant foal. My Sisters, she looks like she was just born yesterday..." He tilted his head far enough to glimpse her cutie-mark, her back half sticking out to the side. She was never very good at hiding. There it was, the statue on her flank. "Incredible...she can talk, she has the cutie-mark, and yet she could have been born yesterday. This...this is really her?" He stared at her intently. Even after being told, his scientific mind had told him there was no way...and yet, that mark, "Is it you in there?"

"Yah yah, stick it," Liberty exclaimed, poking her head around Civil's leg to stare up at the unicorn. "I wasn't exactly born yesterday, let's get THAT settled right now. Maybe several yesterdays ago. I'm here to remember my past." She waggled both her front hooves at him, "So do your magic shit and we can get out of here."

Abstract stumbled back. He held a hoof up to his barrel and tried to breathe slowly.

"...oh fuck, I broke him." She twisted her head around up to Civil, "Are there more of these guys around in case he croaks?"

"Renee! Shut up!" Civil glared down at her.

"I..I can't believe it....it's her! And yet, how is she talking?! How is she so young!?"

Civil shrugged, "She sounds no different than my sister used to be. It's getting her to shut up, that's the trick."

Liberty whacked Civil in the leg with her hoof. "No Donkey references!"

"No. No, you don't understand," Abstract exclaimed, breathing in and out deeply. "I don't understand and I'm a Celestia pissing scientist! After Discord cursed infant foals and they reverted back to their pony matrix from a human form, they could not speak and went back to making baby sounds. Once they learned to talk , they were able to talk about their human lives. But that was a year after their reversion." He shoved a hoof at her, "How is SHE speaking now???"

"Yer the doc, Doc," both pegasi said in unison.

Abstract gave a short giggle under his breath, the sheer insanity of it sundering his logical mind to pudding. He wandered over to the table. "Okay......okay, if we are doing this, let's do it by variable elimination." He paused and said, "Eliminate one variable at a time until whatever is left is the truth. First let's get her up here on this table."

"Table?" She squawked.

"To examine you." He tapped the kitchen table with his hoof.

"You touch me and I'll put a foot in your junk."

"Hoof," Civil sighed belatedly. He really wished she would get the lingo down one of these days.

"That too."

"Phenomenal." He raised his eyes to Civil. "You said she was your sister?"

"Yes. Is."

"Was she this way before the change? "

"Yes. Personality-wise, that hasn't changed. She still acts like my normal sister. She ridicules me, plays pranks on me, makes my life a living nightmare because 'I'm only trying to get the stick out of his ass.' That about right?" He asided that last part to the foal.

Her mouth hung open. She remembered to close it before blurting out, "Wait a minute, you HEARD that back at Joey's!?!"

"I have good hearing. Mom." His ears swiveled for emphasis.

"Remarkable," Doctor Living replied.

Civil gently picked up the squirmy protesting foal and placed her on the table, then eyed the unicorn. "But that's only partially why we're here. It's about the magikemia. Is it likely to come back?"

"Well, the original diagnosis was magikemia," the unicorn mused. He leaned in close to Liberty. "Can you open your mouth please?" Grudgingly she complied, sitting back with her forelegs crossed, wings spread in aggressive stance. He was used to young ones and their inability to control their bodies at this age, so that was nothing new to him. He peered inside. "Mmm, no abnormal eruptions. If I didn't know who you were, I'd say twelve weeks of age." Liberty raised her eyebrows, impressed. His horn glowed, causing Liberty to shiver as a light scan passed over her body. He shook his head, "Absolutely no signs of magikemia. Wings normal, hooves normal, magical signature untainted."

The diminutive mare glanced back and forth between the two stallions, wings and forelegs lowering. "What? What does all that mean? Magikemia, it sounds like leukemia. Something similar?"

The doctor stared at her, still amazed that she was asking about something he had seen slowly kill her most of her life, and here she was, a spring foal with all the energy she never had in her waning days. "Leukemia and magikemia are only similar in that they are both cancerous in nature." He shook his head in disbelief, finally climbing up into a chair next to the table. He needed a rest.

Lowering his head until he was eye to eye with her, he spoke quietly. "Belle, flying was your life. It was your reason for living, you once told us."

"Belle?!" She exclaimed, "Who the hell is Belle?"

"Her name is Liberty, Civil Liberty," Civil asserted.

Glancing at him, Abstract nodded, then looked at Liberty again. "Well, yes later when she herded with your sire, Civil Justice. Her maiden name was Liberty Belle before that. That's how I knew her back then."

She slumped into a sitting position. "I need a drink, or three."

The doctor chuckled at the foal's request. "I need to YouTube that."

"Liberty Belle...Hot was right, it is more complicated than I thought," Civil murmured.

Liberty gave a cute snort, "Whatever, I'm not changing my name." Her eyes met Civil's, who gave her a silent thankyou. She went back to the doctor. "Okay. Magikemia. Me. Sprekkin ze explanation." She drummed out a few taps on the table with her foreleg.

He held up a hoof, "I will try. As you know, we are beings of magic. And we have magical immune systems, so yes, it is similar to leukemia in the symptoms. Exhaustion, bleeding, bruising are common. You see, a normal pony's magic is focused and channeled through their tribe's racial features. Unicorn's horn," he tapped his own, then nodded it at Civil, "the wings and hooves of a pegasus." He tilted his head, "Earth ponies push magic through their legs and hooves...it is even more rare for them to get it, but the onset is so swift, they are spared a lot of the pain. Possibly their direct link with the land, was one line of study, but an unpopular one at the time."

Both the winged ponies stared at him, confused. He smiled apologetically. "Sorry. To put it simply, magikemia is a disorder that causes a magical being's magic to target itself. You are familiar with unicorn magic. There's your pegasus magic, and earth pony magic, dragon magic, too. Essentially all the species have some form, plus so many others. Even chaos magic...mm," he paused and waved a hoof, "we won't discuss that just yet. There are all kinds of, eh, flavors, you could say, in addition to racial. Plant magic, elemental magic, cosmic, celestial, astral. The Great Humors...!" He ran out of breath, trying to list them all. Then he continued at a slower pace.

"Realistically you could write libraries just studying the general differences of each type. It's the reason why you cannot teleport, or I cannot push clouds around, unless I construct a weather spell through my horn that manipulates weather magic. In essence, a normal being's innate magic protects its own and purges foreign magic."

"Like oil and water repel?" Liberty offered.

"Exactly!" he clapped the bottom of his hooves lightly at her. "Only, not just two liquids. We are talking an immense striation of magic types, some actually working well together. Others...? Not so much. And because magic permeates Equestria, our bodies constantly try to prevent other magic types from seeping in, even if some do work well together. An immune system, if you will. It's really called the Autonomic Aether Immune System, but you get the idea. Granted, all magic is not specifically typed. There is raw magic which we all absorb, convert, store. Or inert substances like sugars that are easily converted INTO magic, hence why us unicorn's have such a sweet tooth. Those tend to not set off the AAIS, but support it, actually. Orange juice to up the vitamin C, in a way."

Civil asked, "So, magikemia, it lets in other magic types?"

The unicorn raised his eyebrows. "Oh, no no no. That would be quite horrible to witness." He shook himself, ears splaying out. "This is like...hm, forgive me, my doctorate is in theoretical biological manipulation, not in magical maladies. Yet to my working knowledge of the disease...essentially it's like we all have a particular magical signature. If parts of your magic are not matching that signature, your innate magic quenches it, smothers it. The AAIS is very complex, mind you. It is how almost all ponies maintain their magical equilibrium. A pair of twins would still resist bleeding into each other, though the purge might take a bit longer because of similar signatures by being twins, not necessarily being the same pony tribe."

Liberty hissed softly to herself, imagining what it must have been like. She looked up, "In my case, my magic was destroying itself?"

"To skip over the more disturbing details, yes. Your body had declared war on itself, erroneously identifying its own magic as a foreign entity. Due to the concentration in the wings and hooves, that is where you suffered the most. And as such, the physical manifestations were...ulcers, lack of clotting, eventual crumbling of the hooves and severely atrophied wings toward the end. You get the picture."

"I remember your hooves were always bandaged," Civil said quietly. He glanced at her sides, "and your wings were sensitive. You shuddered every time I nuzzled them. You explained that it was because you were overcome with happiness for me. I thought they were so soft." He blinked, finally realizing something. "I was causing you pain! You never pushed me away, and yet you had to be in horrible pain from me doing that!"

"Civil, what mother would push you away? You were my foal. Are. I mean, I might not have the memories of your past mother, but I know damn well how to be one!"

"Hah!" Abstract couldn't help but laugh, surprising the Civils. This was truly Liberty, here! Alive! "It's amazing. You say you don't remember, but you act just like her." Civil frowned, not really buying it.

"Why did my herd think she was dead? She was gone for several months, and then they said she had simply left us. Later I caught them discussing that she was as good as dead one night, for us to move on and let her go. Why would they say that?"

Abstract calmed down, this topic more sobering than he cared to admit, or cared to talk about. "Hmm. They specifically said that? 'Good as dead'?"

Civil nodded. Liberty walked to the edge of the table and reached out for her son to pick her up. He held her by both hooves and placed her gently on the floor in front of him.

"Then they were quoting the letter that was sent to them regarding the failed-" he stopped suddenly. "I suppose, not so failed procedure, as she is here, alive. At the time, there were complications, not quite a failure, mind you, but we had to tell you all something."

"My mother was still alive and you send a letter explaining to just let her go as though she were dead!? Who wrote that letter!?" His voice was getting louder, enough for the doctor's sensitive ears to pull back. Civil was also shaking his wings. The doctor recognized the onset of pegasi aggression. He tried to calm him by pulling his head back and seem less threatening.

"Now look, Civil, you have to understand the procedure itself was highly experimental, not to mention dangerous to not just your mother but to all participants, as well as highly controversial. Your family was bound to attract too much-"

"DAMN YOU UNICORNS AND YOUR CONTROVERSY!!! WHO WROTE IT!?!?!" Civil stepped forward and roared in the unicorn's face. Liberty was braced against her son's front legs. Well, she tried. Her little body could barely reach both his legs, his stance wide in preparation.

"...the princess," Doctor Living whispered, his voice lowered to de-escalate the situation.

"...celestia?" Civil squeaked. He sat back, stunned. Liberty fell backwards and stared up at him, annoyed.

"Yes, Princess Celestia. She didn't always explain her actions, yet in this, she felt it needed her direct involvement. To help with the grieving process, she said."

"She knew. She knew this whole fucking time." He got up. Liberty had to roll away from him, lest she get Imperial Walkered to death. "I was in that fucking castle year after year, and whenever anypony asked..." He blinked, eyes blazing. "She kicked me out of Equestria and she knew my mother might still be back there, or here, wherever! She lied about my mother dying!" He was ramped up again.

Liberty tugged on his rear leg, favoring a safer position among the giants. "Civil, please calm down. It sounds like he was only following orders-"

"Don't tell me to calm down! You were dying and they stuck you in a freezer and THEN," he paused, flaring his wings in aggression. The doctor channeled magic into his horn, hoping he wouldn't have to fight the angry pegasus. "And 'then'," Civil continued, now in a low growl, "she writes a Too Bad So Sad letter...."

"We had to put her into stasis!" He knew he could take the winged pony if he had to. Yet, he was still a practitioner of medicine and science, not battle, and he wanted to keep it that way. "The final synchronization of the complex tapestry of spells caused your mother's molecular structure to begin rapid change, beyond what our simulation models showed it would do-"

"Woh, woh, Doc!" Liberty exclaimed, standing up on her hind legs so she could be seen from way down there. Waving her hooves back and forth, she said, "We have no fucking idea what you are saying. Try speaking laypony!" She ducked her head at Civil and asked, "Same page, right Big Stuff?"

Civil kept his simmering gaze on the doctor, muttering, "Right. Same page, Little Stuff. No fucking idea."

Sighing, the unicorn sat down, extinguishing his horn. "Look, we attempted something incredibly dangerous, unstable, and complicated. Celestia herself wanted to do it, but our best scientists and doctors stood up to her and said if there was even the slightest deviation in how the spells fell into place, it would instantly kill any one pony, or every pony involved. Even an alicorn. In the end we had nearly one-hundred unicorns linked in that project. ALL willing to die, for her." The doctor motioned his head down to Liberty. "Have you ever seen one-hundred unicorns, the best of the best that went through Celestia's gifted school, stand up to that same alicorn? One of the few times she ever backed down, in the history of Equestria, I would wager."

"One-hundred? And the princess was willing to die for me, too?" Liberty put her forelegs down, settling back on her haunches. Her ears perked forward with interest. "Okay, that's awesome!"

"Mother, seriously?" She grinned sheepishly up at her annoyed son. He shook his head and said, "Alright doctor," finally lowering his wings. "What happened?"

"Within the spell concept and design, it was doing what it was supposed to do for most of the procedure. Technically." Civil raised a brow at the unicorn, waiting for him to continue. "Laypony terms...I know." He thought for a moment. "Aside from the time dilation spells that overlapped the whole process, the primary magical construct we wove everything else into was meant to hold her soul in place while her body was rebuilt cell by cell, down to the last molecule. We had to arrest time itself so her soul wouldn't leave the body. We also had to speed up the process of cell regeneration, halt the process of her innate magic eating itself, AND keep all of her bodily functions going without her going into shock or dying." He took a deep breath, remembering that horrible day.

"Every unicorn was casting a spell?" Civil asked in pure awe. He knew some of what unicorns were capable, having seen much in the Royal Guard. But to bring in fields of completely unrelated and partially related magic took immense power, even if only a couple were combined. This was monumental. Liberty just stood there, almost like she was in stasis again.

"Not all at once. But any new introduction of a single unicorn could snap the whole thing like a thousand popsicle sticks under tension in a mandala pattern, so we were all linked. Half of the scientists and doctors were on standby and stepped in when the actives tired. Some nearly burned out before relenting to a fresh unicorn. The ones that were channeling had to hoof off spells while also keeping every spell overlapped. Just the logistics of it alone took months to plan out ahead of time, and she didn't have long once we made the decision to do this."

"You mentioned...my soul?" asked Liberty.

"Soul magic," Civil whispered, "I thought that stuff was forbidden-"

"Do not ask me about it! I'm not even supposed to know that field of study exists. Something the Specials came up with, the ones you were flying courier runs up to in Manehattan." He had paled slightly, muttering something under his breath about Majestic Specials.

She had more questions now, especially about this courier stuff he had mentioned, except Civil continued, "But you said it did what it was supposed to do. Why put her in stasis?"

"Instead of sweeping through her body gradually to replace the bad cells with clean ones and thus her innate magic would recognize itself, her whole body became unstable, all at once. It was like she was de-evolving. We also had several safety spells in place to alert us to any...abnormalities, should anything move slightly out of parameters. Every single safety spell and alert went off at the same time."

"Her cells were breaking down, their outer membranes breaching. It was horribly painful for her. We kept replacing her at the cellular level but we were exhausting our staff exponentially. I almost didn't recover from it for several years. Before the last of us collapsed, stasis became the final option so we could at least review what went wrong, maybe develop wholly new fields of magic for a future viable option. Except...first we had to figure out our mistake."

He tapped his chin and tilted his head, peering at Liberty. "You have a baby foal standing in front of me and I still can't tell you what went wrong. Or what went right, it would now seem. Maybe the permutations of so many spells, unicorns, or variables spawned a single result too obscure for anypony to ever have predicted. Maybe it was something else. We never found out then, and I still don't know, now." Seeing that his explanation still hadn't settled them down much, he lowered himself until he was laying down in front of her.

Speaking quietly, he said, "Once it was clear we had failed, we tried so hard to undue what was happening to you. Several unicorns almost died, just to pour enough magic into the collapsing magical tapestry we had woven so we could analyze what caused the onset of de-evolution, but the princess stepped in, ordering us to place you into stasis."

"And she wrote the letter to us," Civil interjected darkly, "to cover up the debacle."

With a wounded look, the unicorn regarded Civil, "True, she was the one who wrote it, but the letter wasn't her idea, nor the words."

"Whose was it?" Liberty asked.

He pointedly looked at her. "It was yours."

"Mine!?" She exclaimed.

He nodded. "You felt your herd would stop at nothing to find another way to fix what we had done, to heal you somehow. 'They will drain our family funds, put all their careers and dreams on hold and fly to the ends of Equestria and back for me,' you said. You told us we had done so much, including risking our lives and that of the princess for you, that you couldn't have your family suffer any longer than they already had since you started showing symptoms of the disease. So, your last request before going under was for Princess Celestia to write a letter stating word for word what you wanted your herd to hear. What you just told me, Civil." He glanced up at the stallion. "To let her go."

"Why would so many risk so much, for me?" she asked, still shocked by the massive effort to heal her.

"Like I mentioned earlier, that information was never made public." Watching their exasperated reactions, he held up both hooves, "We were part of the Anointed Science Corps of Unicorn Engineers, a subsection for the EUP. Information was sent between us in Canterlot and the Specials up in Manehattan. Due to its sensitive nature, we utilized you for very quiet courier assignments. On one run, something happened, though we in the ASCUE were never debriefed on the matter. What was told to us, you saved nearly all of Equestria, so we were willing to risk it all to save you. Hence, the statue, in your honor."

She looked back at her flank, then at the doctor, "I knew I was awesome."

Civil chuckled. "As if she needed anymore idols to her magnificence."

The unicorn nodded. "They got the fur and the eyes right. The mane...?" He grinned in thought. "Damn sneaky of them. Originally it was done in a golden copper, all of it. Let's just say copper oxidizes quite spectacularly near salt water. And they made it significantly older looking, to obscure who it was supposed to be. So in a way, it was always her, depending on what part you looked at, WHEN you looked at it. Mane and tail the early years, rest of her the later years."

The pegasus stared at the tiny foal's mark and finally slumped to the floor. His eyes glazed, he murmured, "I've been visiting that statue all my life. Triple the frequency when you...'passed away'..." He shook his head, eyes refocusing. "I never thought of it that way. Always you. And...it was little things you would say, those first few visits."

Liberty frowned. She walked around to Civil's front and looked up, asking him softly, "What DID I tell you back then, Civil? Do you remember?"

"You always told me that you did something that saved a bunch of pony lives, that your cutie-mark symbolized a guiding light in the darkest times, that you had brought knowledge, understanding and hope where none should have had a chance to exist. It was self-sacrifice, knowing you would die, yet you were at peace with it, as long as you saved others. Freed them." He was close to tears, remembering the strength and conviction in his mother's voice while she lay on her pallet at the top of the lighthouse, barely able to lift herself. He sat up straighter as he remembered another thing. "You said it meant 'undying freedom'."

The three ponies didn't move, absorbing Civil's recollection. After a minute, Liberty snorted derisively. "That's the stupidest most obscure thing I've heard all day. If I was a unicorn and COULD do time dilation, I'd go back there and kick my own ass!"

The doctor choked back a laugh and gently patted her head. "Libs, that's not how time dilation works. I'm not even going to explain it because-" He was cut off by her sticking both hooves in her ears.

"Lah lah lah lah, unicorn technobabble blah blah blah."

Now the doctor had tears in his eyes, "Dear Celestia I miss that! You always had a way of getting to the salad and potatoes of things."

"Okay Doc, that's another thing," Civil groused. "How is it you remember how she used to act, yet she has been acting the same as my human sister and nothing like the pony mother I knew growing up?"

This caused the unicorn to sit back up, intrigued. "This is your sister's personality, no foaling around?" The two winged ponies nodded their heads 'yes', then shook their heads 'no' in unison. Doctor Living looked between the two, smiling slightly. "Cute. Scary, but cute. Alright. If we were to assume that none of today's discussion has jarred your memory, and like you said, you have a total mind wipe..." He paused, scratching his chin. Closing one eye, he said, "Call me Abs."

Liberty shrugged and said, "Whatever, Abs." He chuckled.

"Still nothing?" She shook her head no. He nodded and sighed. "I can only deduce that you are a clean slate." The dumbfounded looks on their faces prompted more explanation. Again. "The damnedest thing is, I honestly believe our procedure worked, now. And with a new body, a new brain." Civil clenched his jaw and tapped a hoof. The doctor shook his head and walked away from, heading over to a coffee pot. "Libs, if you had a son, how would you act?"

She threw up her hooves, "Oh come on, Doc! We already had this discussion! He and I, a bar, shrimp took a massive dive in population count!" Civil stuck his tongue out at her, but she ignored him. "I still don't care if I was adopted!" She paused, then glanced up at Civil, "Miss anything?" He slurped his tongue back in quickly, shaking his head innocently.

"Nope."

"Hear me out, sweety. I'm sure you both had the best of intentions getting through that discussion, blind as you were." Their looks were not entirely thrilled at his assessment. He clarified with, "I say that because I have something you both do not. Memories of how she acted before and after your birth, Civil."

Civil nodded slowly. "Alright, I can see how rehashing this topic now could be worthwhile. Ask away."

Liberty glared up at her son. "Hay! I'm the one being grilled here, remember?" His muttering about the word 'remember' earned him a neat little kick in the hoof from his mother. Civil smiled slightly at her using 'hay' correctly, 4th wall literary detail be damned.

The doctor was grinning ear to ear. "Always the firebrand. Okay, Libs. Would you be you, or somepony else? Would you act the way you always have, OR, would you tone it down, make different decisions. Pretend you had a newborn foal, mewling for food, can barely crawl. Pretend you've been feeling the effects of the disease for a while now, but you can still fly and your hooves are holding up for the time being. How would you act?"

Despite being put on the spot and having proper context to work with like a debilitating disease, she shrugged. "I still don't know. I would pick him up, hold him so he would know he wasn't alone."

"And when he got a little older, old enough to learn to fly and make decisions for himself?"

"I'd teach him how to walk, how to fly, eat his greens instead of junk food and lobster all the time...." She frowned, pausing. She knew he loved lobster as a human. It seemed natural to keep him from constantly eating such a rich food.

The doctor asked, "Would you ridicule him, play pranks on him, make his life a living nightmare because 'you are only trying to get the stick out of his ass'?"

It started to dawn on her what the unicorn was getting at. She slowly turned her head to Civil and replied, "No, I wouldn't do that to my son. I would teach him..." She racked her brain to think of what a pony mother would do or say. Civil stood up.

"I would teach him right from wrong. I would teach him flight and song," Civil sung softly, closing his eyes. "I would teach him how to swim, how to fight for life and limb." He looked up, eyes glistening.

"♪ But when it's bedtime... ♪" She added like a lullaby.

"♪ Watch me ride the waves, ♪" Civil replied.

"♪ But it's bedtime... ♪" She countered.

"♪ Avoid initiation raves, ♪" Civil mumbled.

"♪ But dear it's bedtime... ♪" Liberty murmured.

"♪ Yes, ma'am, it's bedtime. ♪" Civil answered, closing his eyes.

Liberty smiled, touching his leg with her hoof, "♪ So he behaves. ♪"

He opened his eyes again, their surfaces glistening. He leaned over and hugged the tiny pegasus as much as he could without snapping her in half.

She was smiling, buried under hooves, forelegs and wings. It was a pure happy smile he remembered seeing on her face when she was a human little sister, AND when she was his mother on rare occasions. She was always there...like the statue. She said, "That is exactly something I would say." She turned back to the doctor, who was now holding another steaming mug in his magic, a sublime look of peace on his face. "Was...was that a memory?"

He shook his head sadly, "Unfortunately, that was a little of Harmony's magic. You would have known it for a memory by seeing him in your mind's eye."

She sighed, "For a minute, I thought...Is it possible, that Renee and Liberty, we both have always been the same?"

He tilted his head at her. "Can it be so straight forward?" he said to himself. Blinking, he said, "Given the data we have so far, my theory is you became a clean slate, body and mind, just prior to being cursed. So, when you reverted, there you were, integrating two lifetimes together like anypony else. Albeit in your case, all of a few seconds of your previous new pony life with your human one. I can't fathom why the curse would have such a devastating impact on you. While despicable, it may have just been an accident on Discord's part that it would cause a near death reaction."

Civil frowned slightly, releasing his mother. "I still don't get it. Where is the commonality, the thing that would make Renee follow Liberty's...personality, at least up until she changed with my birth in Equestria?"

The doctor grinned and tipped his horn to Civil. "Good question. And that is where we get into pure theory of transdimensional relocation via chaos magic. Unless Discord were to pop up and answer that side of the equation, all I can surmise is the one thing that made some ponies follow their same dreams as humans here on Earth." He sipped from his mug and breathed softly, "The soul."

Civil stared at the doctor at the revelation. Liberty asked, "Wait, my soul determines my personality?"

"Hrm, not quite," Abstract answered. "It is more like a predisposition. Ultimately it is your life's experiences that shapes your personality. His birth back in Equestria, for instance. That caused a big change in your personality. You became, mmm, heh, forgive me. You became more responsible." At her bristling, he shook his head, "No no, you misunderstand. You were very quick to rush into things. After he was born, you became MUCH more conservative with how you conducted your affairs." That seemed to mollify her.

Civil still look dissatisfied. Abstract drank the rest of the mug down and patted his muzzle with a napkin. "Please, I don't know much more about that topic. Again, it was forbidden, as you pointed out, even though we used it in our project. Yes I know," seeing their faces light up, "it was part of the healing spells arc of the tapestry. That part was handled by the..." He closed his eyes. "Look, if you go asking around for them, please do not mention me. I want to keep my horn." Despite their horrified looks when he opened his eyes, he said, "Libs, you carried missives, orders, requests, responses, and occasionally black box items to and from a group known only as the Majestic Specials. They specialized in all things energy related."

He paused and lowered his voice, near a whisper even ponies could barely hear, "To include the unseen, and the mysteries of the soul. If it was dangerous to the point that it would drive the average unicorn insane just knowing about it, M.S. was already studying it. They also were the ones that had your statue commissioned. The oxidizing trick was their idea, by the way. Whatever you did to earn a statue from them, that was the only reason they came out of their mountain up there to take part in our attempt to save your life. Imagine trying to do surgery, flying blindfolded through a hurricane below treetop level, and when you beg to take the blindfold off, you get told 'M.S. business. Ask any more questions, lose the horn.' They presented us with soul spells we had to weave into the matrix without even proof-reading beforehoof, and just hope they worked. We were taught to NEVER so much as attempt a cantrip before studying it first. But we did it anyway, to save the heroine of Manehattan." He sat there, contemplating all the years and the studies he and his colleagues had conducted on her behalf.

Civil and Liberty were at a loss for words, letting all of that sink in. Then Abstract's eyes lit up, new thoughts coming to him. "Imagine if you will, the soul is infinite. In existence, in capability, in capacity. See," he said, shaking a hoof at something as he stared off, unseen to the pegasi, "I always felt Discord's curse wasn't just brute magic. Yes it spanned space and time, but chaos in and of itself is meaningless without a counterpoint, a...a wall on which to bash itself against, otherwise it would consume itself, internalize. In and of itself, chaos literally has no order, no definition. It literally is meaningless..UNLESS something else exists, to give it definition, reason for existence."

"Like light and shadow, one needs the other?" Liberty asked. Noticing Civil stare at her in surprise, she beamed a smile up at him. "See? I know things too."

Abstract pointed his hoof at her, "Exactly! Matter, energy. These are finite things, only existing in one reality. Chaos spans beyond that. It NEEDS something to latch onto." He clacked the bottoms of his forehooves together. He calmed down, sobering as he stared at his hooves. "It needs souls. Dear Celestia....he must be so lonely..."

"Who?" The pegasi asked in unison.

"Huh?...hm...n-never mind. Ramblings of an old mind." He took a breath and thought. "Think of it this way, why would Discord even bother with us? So many places he can go, so many dead worlds. He can't, or refuses to, because those worlds are dead, lifeless. So what is life? Working on the premise that all lives, all creatures have souls.....yes, this even proves...or, strengthens my hypothesis to theory level..." He glanced up, wondering, and muttered, "Or is this factual...unless we could get it from the dracone-horse's mouth, I suppose it would-"

"What are you talking about?" Civil asked in exasperation. He really hated when unicorns went off on a tangent.

Abstract blinked, as if it were obvious, "Her soul. All of our souls. They are the focus points he had to base his magic on. He transported our souls into new bodies, you, me, even her....but why did she become an infant?" He tapped his chin in thought. "My earlier premise was she was cursed as an infant...so......" His eyes glazed a little.

"Your project was named resurrection?" Civil offered.

"Mm, yes, but it was to rebuild her body completely, cell by cell, not turn it into this young infant."

Great, back to theoretical nonsense. Liberty wasn't having it. "Hell, I'm still here and I am not an infant!"

"Molar count says otherwise," he replied, reaching down to her muzzle.

She snapped at him with her mouth, quipping, "Go buck a test tube."

He smirked, but checked his hoof for marks, anyway. "These bodies, on some level we have not identified yet, connect, bond with the soul. That's why simulacrums are so tricky, why golems are hard to work with. Infinite capacity....the link to our cells, maybe beyond the quantum level....the possibilities are endless, heh, infinite you might say." He glanced up at them. "The cellular decay, the de-evolution. We thought it was the magikemia or a mistake we made. Now...I wonder if on some fundamental level we sundered the connection between her body and her soul, and THAT is why our efforts were failing." He stopped, tapping his teeth together softly, then added, "Always destined to fail." He stared at her. Then at Civil. Another thought had crept in. One he was loathe to express. It bordered on giving Discord credit where one hundred dedicated unicorns and one noble alicorn had failed. He reigned in his tongue, though. He was a pony of science and medicine, not sadism.

"And Renee my sister, now my mother?"

"Because it's her soul. It IS her. In fact, she told me to buck a test tube during her first physical. Coming out of a young pre-cutie filly, I nearly lost it. I couldn't conduct the physical I was laughing so hard. You say she is your sister?"

"Yes..."

"You grew up with her, as a human. She has always been this way?"

"Yes....and now, she is my mother and acts nothing like her."

Abstract stepped up to them and leaned down, offering his hooves. After a moment of hesitation, she carefully climbed up on them. He raised her up to Civil's eye level and eyed them both, all three of them close together. "No. Like the statue...This IS how Civil Liberty has ALWAYS been."

Civil and Liberty stared at each other. Had she been there all this time, just pre-mother? Had he gotten to see what no other colt or filly ever gets to see, an inside look on how their mother was before they were a mother?

The unicorn offered to put her atop Civil's head. Then he nuzzled them both, careful not to poke anypony with his horn. "I want to be the first to say I am so glad that we saved you, no matter the result or however long it took you to come back to us. And if we had to do it again, it would still be worth it."

***

"My brain feels like mush after that blatant information dump on us," Liberty whined, lying down on top of Civil's head.

"Agreed." He would be rubbing his temples now if he wasn't trying to balance his mother up there.

His mother.

Despite all that he had learned, there was a weight lifted from him. Maybe from his soul, if Abstract Living were to be believed about that stuff. They were still no closer to getting back her memories, but the doctor had mentioned she was a clean slate now. Well, a clean slate with a very colorful background of his sister to contend with, and a long life ahead of her free of that horrible disease, however she had originally contracted it.

She sat up and asked, "Pizza?"

He snorted once, then nodded slightly, "Pizza." He started looking up nearby places on his phone. A thought caused him to chuckle as he murmured, "Liberty Belle..."

"SHUT IT!"

Author's Note

I know, no police stuff just yet, but very soon.

Sins of a Benefactor

"All I'm saying is, yours is a very special case. What's more, it might just be an Equestrian situation."

"Oh that's rich. How about I just order a sweater that says 'Got soul? It's an Equestrian thang'." She was always melodramatic, even as a human. Guess some things hadn't changed.

"Cute," Civil quipped. He waved his hoof to mark off the following adjectives, "Also ingenious, comedic, and completely uncalled for." He finished by wrinkling his nose in irritation.

She threw up her hooves falling back into the booth seat, "...but you brought it up!"

"Because of the whole predisposition thing! And since when have I ever wanted to talk about THIS other subject anyway? It was only a comparison."

"Well you should talk about 'this subject,' it's been long enough." She pointed a hoof at him while sitting up in the booth, the other hoof braced against the table, her voice tinged with anger, "You didn't have to listen to mom on the phone every week while you went missing for two years straight!"

"Now I'm listening to mom." Yes, a cheap shot. He felt cheap at the moment.

Gritting her teeth, she growled, "Sometimes I can't talk to you..." It was an insanely cute growl though, so totally worth the cheap shot.

An earth mare walked up to their table, smiling. "Menus?" She had a pizza in the shape of a pacman on her flanks gobbling up pepperoni dots.

Both pegasi replied, "Yes," in somewhat muted tones. Their server smiled weakly, sensing their moods. She hooved over two folded menus. "Just call me when you are ready," and skipped over to the next table, probably feeling much better to be away from two brooding pegasi.

With something else to occupy their attention, he was glad to get off that delightful subject. The menu featured several themed pizza specials, from classic Hawaiian ham and pineapple to taco style, and a few with some herbivore additives like daffodils and tulips, marked by a little pony head next to each one. Thankfully, Liberty also found the selections interesting enough to keep her from badgering him, if her salivating response was any indication. Their server came back two more times, but Civil told her they were waiting for another pony, so she left them alone to study pictures of food.

Gradually a wave of weariness overcame him, a result of the morning flight and that noon emotional rollercoaster giving him a one-two punch for his energy levels. His head started to lower itself to the table and his eyes got droopy. Similarly, Liberty was starting to do the same thing, resting her chin on the wet menu, which were laminated.

The place they had decided to eat was at the end of a row of businesses on the main road of the town. The décor was straight out of the wild west, to include hinged swinging doors and an antique looking bar. Pony Pies aPlenty, or P-PaP, as referred to by the locals, was patronized by both humans and ponies, and seemed to be flourishing in this one pony town. He snorted to himself at the colloquial notion. Still, the saloon feel to the place fit right in, what with it being scrub land outside the town housing limits. The diner also seemed to be popular this time of day, so it couldn't have been too bad a place. Since he had left Equestria, he had not seen such a concentration of his own people until now. It was odd, but he felt some comfort just being near other four legged beings. His herd instincts pinging, he mused to himself. Eyes wandering, the ponies that were present seemed...generic. Not in a belittling way. Just, nopony famous. Or even ones he could recognize. Until now.

The old style jukebox in the corner clicked and started moving the next record into position. A few pops of static emitted from the speakers as the needle hit the 45 vinyl record grooves and a languid guitar and soft snare began the song Wicked Game.

Thus it was a very worn out pair of pegasi that lifted their heads off the table when Hot Pink arrived and stepped through the door flaps, mane flowing back in slow motion. Her head turned slowly until she spotted them. A wing swung around and took a lollipop out of her mouth, and she licked her lips lightly in utter calm, but he could see how he affected her when their eyes met.

Hot paused and listened to some of the lyrics, nodding in approval. She stepped purposefully over to their booth, Strato Sphere in tow behind her. Civil had texted her where they would be at, not trusting his mouth or brain to work correctly after their ordeal at Abstract's house. Liberty was of the same opinion. Once Hot was standing next to them, she opened her mouth, only to be interrupted by Strato following close behind her. "Hay Civil, long time no call!"

Civil's gaze lingered on the mare, then he glanced at Strato. He smirked, pleased to see the upbeat pony, however he took exception to being the one responsible for initiating social communication all the time. In retrospect, he supposed he was just irritable because his impending nap got rudely interrupted. Eyeing Strato, Civil said, "You have a phone, too. What, can't fly and call at the same time?"

Strato paled slightly and shook out his wings. "Yeah, you try that and see what office building you end up flying into." Then he noticed the young filly sitting in the booster seat next to Civil. "Pinks, is that...'mom'?"

She grinned. "Yes, it is." Both her eyes and Civil's met, and they simply stared at each other. The background music wasn't helping. She whispered softly, "Hay Civ...hows it hangin."

There was a pause as Chris Isaac and the accompanied voices intoned '♪No, I......don't want to fall in love (this girl is only gonna break your heart)♪' in the background.

Civil felt a slight tap on his flank from Liberty, further flustering him. Right on the cutie mark zone, too. Clearing his throat, "Uh, yeah, it's hangin. How...how are you? Hangin...?"

Hot chuckled in a low husky sort of way.

Liberty groaned, pulling her hooves over her face. She muttered, "You are pathetic."

To save him, Hot turned slightly and lifted a foreleg, "Strat hasn't seen your mother before, so I invited him along, I hope you don't mind. He wanted to see both of you, too. Hopefully he'll avoid putting his hoof in his mouth, but you know how stallions are." Her eyes twinkled.

Strato shook his head, grinning. He was used to her friendly jabs. Civil smiled and nodded, getting back some of his confidence. "I know." He turned to Liberty, "Mom, this is Strato Sphere. Strat, this is Civil Liberty." He noted the other stallion peering at her curiously, but not so surprised at her size. Hot must have explained things. Civil said, "Just pretend she's not a foal right now."

Liberty's eyes went to pinpricks as Strato reached across the table to offer his hoof. She stammered, "Uh...STRATO Sphere...? Heh, um, hi!" She gently tapped his hoof with hers and buried her nose back into the menu, really studying those pizza toppings.

The two stallions looked askance at her. "Odd," Civil said. "Normally she's more talkative than that."

Strato nodded and slid into the opposite seat so Hot could be opposite Civil.

When Liberty was sure Strato was no longer interested in her, she quipped, "Pinks, yer a lot more chill than that other pink pony. I thought you would be more, um, bouncy."

Civil squeezed his eyes shut, but Hot Pink took it as part of the foal's charm.

"I should hope I'm more chill. She IS an earth pony. They tend to have peculiar ideas on how to live."

Civil peeked at Liberty with one eye incredulously, "You know about Pinkie Pie?"

"Duh, it's called TV? I'm all caught up on the episodes." She held up a hoof and looked away. "Still not remembering shit, though."

"I didn't say anything," he muttered back.

"That's right, you said you had a lead on your memory situation." Hot leaned forward. "How'd it go?"

"AttenSHUN!" Cried out a mare's voice. Civil sat up ramrod straight, a nice shot of adrenaline coursing through his chest to make the motion extra snappy. He felt the burning sensation spreading from his heart, the chemical so acute in its effect. An older unicorn strolled over to their booth. She had a strawberry red mane and tail, along with a pale white fur coat.

"Hah. You do know you're not under my command anymore, Mister Patrol." Her horn was glowing a rose color, its
energy directed at a rolled up newspaper floating alongside her.

"Yes, LT, ma'am!" He didn't break attention, sitting in a booth in a saloon style pizza parlor.

She rolled her eyes. "Tartarus, soldier, give over already. At ease, and I order you to never follow my orders again." He relaxed.

"Military buddy of yours?" Strato asked as he eye the stallion settle down.

Civil nodded, "Striding Thunder, Lieutenant, Royal Guard. Lightning specialist if I recall accurately, and my CO in Canterlot."

"You do recall accurately, and not anymore. CO, that is." She sat on her haunches and leaned against the table. "Haya Stat, Hots."

They both replied, "Hay Stride." Strato added in a mutter, "Would it kill her to say my name correctly..."

She grinned, her right eye giving Strat the barest wink. He shook his head and pointedly looked out the window. Some mares just never got the hint, something stallions were accused of more often than not. Striding regarded Civil with a warm smile. "I sent my letter of resignation in with the other correspondences this past portal opening. I have more things tying me down here."

That made him raise his brow. "Really? I thought you were a lifer, you know, glass is always half military doctrine kinda mare."

She snorted. "New lifetimes, new perspectives. Now I do security gigs here and there, help out with my human folks. Occasionally jump start a tourist's car. Military puts your life on hold, unless you make it your life. Before the curse, meh, I might have stayed in. Now, I've gotten a taste of too much on the outside. But you, sir, are the talk of the town, Civil."

"Huh?" He looked at her, bewildered. "Which town, this one?! I just got here, how could I be that infamous already?"

She shook her head and replied, "You give yourself too little credit." Tilting her head to the side, "Looking good, by the way. Yeah, definitely too little credit." Noting the black fetlocks and wingtips, "I see you got initiationed, initianated...-"

"Initiated," all three adult fliers stated. Liberty whipped her head around at them all, hoping to find out more about initiation. When none was forthcoming, Liberty piped up, "Oi, what do you mean initiated?" Hot's ears swiveled more in Striding's direction. Now the unicorn had the pegasus' focus.

"That." She ducked her head at his wings. "Also, love the saddle. Ohhh.....Tartarus, if you had been sporting this style a few years ago, I'd have had a go at you."

"What!?!" He squawked. Hot pursed her lips, quirking a brow. The saddle was her idea, her twist on fashion. She silently thrashed her tail under the table. Poaching was poaching.

The unicorn noticed Hot's change in demeanor and took a small measured step back and sat back down, as was proper pony etiquette. "But, I see you have your hooves full, for now. Anywho, I wanted to see who was applying for Dallas." Civil had a slightly bewildered look on his muzzle, but his attention was immediately drawn to the floating newspaper unfolding and flattening out onto the table in front of him. There on the front page was a picture of the Dallas Police headquarters and a giant green silhouette of a pony superimposed behind it as if it were impending doom. Or Godzilla. Pwnzilla. The face of the pony was expertly done with a vague set of eyes, nose, and mouth. Formed from a question mark.

Civil stared at it. "Is...is that some kind of a joke? How did you even find out it was me? Or that I was even here!?!"

Striding smiled. "There was media coverage yesterday and the Dallas chief wanted to quell speculation. She mentioned a pegasus, white with black mane and tail, lived in Dallas." She paused for a moment, then added, "And someone figured out you filed a flight plan to the new pony town from Dallas to here and posted that on Twitter, so they assumed it was their new cop applicant visiting his own kind. You made the noon rounds on CNN, all of three minutes, but I kept my eyes peeled for any new fliers incoming. And it turned out to be you! Fancy that."

He continued glowering at the paper. They didn't exactly state his name, but the article had a surprising amount of information. Strato tilted his head at the paper. The article was also questioning whether or not humans were ready to be policed by ponies. "Media might be poking fun at the concept...but we have military ponies already." He looked up at the other ponies. "Military policing abroad. Why not law enforcement on a more domestic scale?" He was trying to put a nice pony spin on it.

"Domestication," Striding replied sardonically. "That might be part of it. The public prefers humor to horror. War is horror, so they embrace this, while poking fun at it at the same time, in case it doesn't work out." That got his attention.

Civil frowned. "With respect, ma'am, I don't plan on failing."

She shook her head. "I have no doubt YOU will succeed at whatever you do. Despite your rocky career in the Guard, there was always something about you." She watched him speculatively. He raised his brows at her. Surreptitiously, Hot nodded slightly as well. Liberty caught her gesture and gave Hot a questioning look. Hot widened her eyes and nudged her head at Civil. Liberty rolled her eyes and silently mouthed 'duh' back at the mare.

Striding shrugged. "I could have hammered you harder when you chose less...orthodox methods to follow your orders, but I didn't. Some of your results were quite spectacular."

He felt another tap on his cutie zone, and another shiver. He turned to Liberty. "Would you knock that off! And no, I am not telling you what she's talking about!"

Striding chuckled. Hot rubbed the bottoms of her front hooves together. "Oh I am definitely finding out." She glanced at Liberty, "Then I will tell you."

Liberty hoof bumped the air as Civil shook his head in futility.

Strato said, "Don't worry, Civil, it's just a newspaper, not fit to line a bird cage. Best we can do for small town fare."

"Maybe," he replied sullenly. Eyes narrowing, he moved to stab the picture of the green pony with his hoof but Striding snatched the paper away with her magic.

"Woh Nelly. My paper. Go get your own cage liner."

Liberty glowered. "The 'woh nelly' again?"

Civil smirked down at her, "See? It's a thing."

Striding stood up. "Didn't mean to interrupt your lunch. Good to see you again, Civil. Stay sharp. A lot of people are watching you now, not like when it was just me, Captain Shining Armor and the princesses back in the old days." He sunk back into the booth seat.

"Great," he muttered.

Nodding to him, she glanced at Hot, "By the way, house is looking good. Not that I would choose to live in the sky, but you pegasi cornered the market on comfortable cloud homes and beds."

Hot grinned and nodded. "Thankyou. There are still some adjustments I need to make before I can call it done. The mayor wants to use it as the model home for prospective residents of the winged variety. Guess good real estate sense is something that has stayed in my family bloodline, and cloud houses are a burgeoning market now." She got a nostalgic expression.

Liberty perked up. "Cloud houses? And a cloud bed? I want to try them out!"

Striding laughed softly. "Don't worry, kid. Plenty of those around town, and word is Hots has the best one yet."

Hot Pink smirked while blushing at the same time and murmured, "Still working on it."

Liberty puffed out her little bird chest and piped up, "I'm not a kid, ya know."

Striding raised her brow at her, then glanced at Civil. "My bad. I thought she was yours."

He grimaced slightly. "Oh nono, not ready for that yet." Hot tilted her head but remained silent. "Yeah this is a weird thing, even by pony standards. See, this is actually my human sister that turned BACK into my mom, Civil Liberty. So now she acts like...both a kid...and adult.....?" He slowed to a stop at the unicorn's reaction.

Striding was staring at him, then at Liberty in utter shock. Slowly she pointed her hoof at her. "This...is your mother?"

He nodded. "Yes. Is that a big deal?"

Blinking, she shook out her mane and smoothed her fur. "By the sisters, had I known she was here, in town...alive...." Peering closely at Liberty, her eyes widened and she pulled back. "You're the one...you're the heroine of Manehattan!" Hearing Hot Pink and Strato Sphere gasp, Striding's ears laid flat and she glared to the side. "Buck a unicorn head on...I wasn't supposed to blurt that out." She clenched her jaw. "You'd have thought I was fresh out of horseshoe camp ogling the big city sights. With respect," nodding her head and lowering her voice, "Thankyou for what you did. You raised a good colt, ma'am...even if he did accidentally set fire to a joke flatulence factory and smelled up the countryside for eight months."

Civil squeezed his eyes shut. "I had reason to believe Flam and Flam were canning something else."

Striding merely nodded and attempted to step away as quickly as possible. Liberty hopped up on the back of the booth, "Wait! Come back! Tell me about-" A glow appeared around her snout, muzzling her.

Hissing, the older mare trotted back and glared at them all. "Keep your voice down! You may be the heroine but you don't want to be famous!" When she was sure Liberty could control herself, she let up and sighed. Obviously aware that several others in the diner were now listening in, she called up a sound bubble around them. "You cannot tell anypony, or anyone about this, got it?" She made sure they each nodded before she continued.

"All I know is what the princess informed me when she put you under my command." She glanced at Civil. "This information was to be known only to her, Shining Armor, and a VERY few others."

He asked quietly, "Others, of a 'special' nature?"

Eyes narrowing, Striding responded, "If you know what's best, you will not ask about them. Leave my name out of it, if you do. I don't want to lose my horn." Both Liberty and Civil's brows went up. "In any event, Celestia said your mother was the one depicted as the statue in the harbor up in Manehattan and your herd had taken a devastating loss when Miss Liberty passed away. You were also from a good and loyal bloodline of Guards. She advised me to not give preferential treatment so much as simply look at things from your perspective."

Liberty raised her hoof slightly. "I don't suppose there is anything else about me?" She tapped her noggin. "I'm a complete blank when it comes to my past."

Striding shook her head, "Sadly, I wish I could. Even what I just told you was supposed to be secret, on account of possible retaliation from known and unknown enemies. And the princess did not elaborate on the matter. But by all accounts, you were not supposed to be alive and the worry was for Civil here. Even after all this curse business, I would keep a wrap on this, at least until you speak to the princess directly."

Civil nodded. "If only...." He could see Liberty tensing up to give her two cents on the matter of his banishment, so he wrapped her up in his wing. While she gave several muffled complaints, he grimaced, "Sorry, she gets talkative about my return to Earth."

The unicorn nodded, letting the bubble dissipate. "I can imagine. Just remember what I said, and I didn't say anything." She picked up the paper she had dropped and briskly trotted out the diner. All four pegasi watched her leave.

Strato mouthed the words 'Heroine of Manehattan' at Civil. He nodded back. Hot Pink, on the other hoof, was watching the foal with a newfound respect. Then she did a double take at Liberty. "Hold up. Your memory. Civil, didn't you track down that lead you were talking about? They HAD to have told you something, on account that she was-" The mare caught herself and worked her jaw a little. "Well, you know."

Civil looked down at Liberty belatedly, now released from his special power move Wings of Silence. She glared up at him, but then merely shrugged and said, "Other than me being a delivery pony, most of it was about my sickness, which I am supposedly cured of." Hot sat up, glancing at Strato. He shrugged back.

Civil watched them and nodded. "My thoughts exactly. I feel like we dredged up more questions than answers, and my CO just now confirmed why. Or at least, some of the why." He patted Liberty on the head with his hoof. "She used to fly for a group we can't mention, and in so doing, made some enemies. On top of which, at one point she was dying and in trying to save her life, several unicorns used forbidden magic. And from that, she possibly ended up like this." When she batted away his hoof, he ruffled his mother's ears and head fur with his wing, making her fuss more at him with her hooves.

His friends shuddered. Hot Pink leaned forward, steeling her nerves. "What can you tell us, Civil?"

He thought about it for a few seconds, then said quietly, "There is the possibility that my mother's soul went into my sister's newborn body when she was cursed, not just the 'everypony got teleported' theory that is the current think. Through the attempted healing those unicorns did, the result is a foal."

Strato scoffed, "Her soul? Then...wait, how does that even work?" Hot and Strato glanced at each other, confused.

Civil shrugged. "It's soul magic, so nopony knows, or nopony willing to talk about it. As for her, this is how she has always been, apparently. Or, the way she acted before I was born in Equestria, anyway." Liberty sniffed at that but remained quiet.

Hot exclaimed, "That is so cool! Holy Alicorn Sisters, you get to see what she was like as a filly!"

"I feel like an adult, thankyou very much," Liberty retorted.

"Totally," Strato grinned and flicked a cracker at her. She crunched it out of midair with her teeth, making a mess of crumbs all over Civil's side.

He cleared his throat. "Ahem...yes, we already went over that. I'm still on the fence about how one's soul can determine the way they act. I'm more used to experiences determining your personality. Sooo.......yeah." He brushed some crumbs off his flank.

Liberty wiped crumbs off her muzzle and asked, "You don't think one is simply predisposed to be a certain way, that...ahem...'proper upbringing perfects the perfect pony'...or whatever a snooty pony mom would sound like?"

Civil furrowed his brow at her, "AHEM...'Proper upbringing creates the perfect opportunities for the prepared.' And OUR mom taught us that.....taught some of us, I should say. Thank you for mangling it." He went back to his menu. "And I don't want to talk about it. Again."

Liberty rolled her eyes, "Wait, you bite MY head off when I bring it up, but then you get to use it to prove a point-"

"DROP IT!...mom...."

Snort, "Oh, I'm your mom, now. THAT he remembers."

Strato said out of the corner of his mouth, "You sure they are both not getting to see each other as fillies?"

"Sppfft," Hot raspberried back, "Speak for yourself, Mister Wrecking Ball."

"Oh for fuck's....it was ONE building! And no I do not need remedial lessons."

"See what I mean? And we are still ironing out new building codes because of you." She turned to address the bickering duo. "Civ, Lib? What are you two talking about?"

He raised his eyebrows but remained silent. Liberty spread her hooves at him. "Well she's going to find out sooner or later." His lack of objection was a yes in her book, so she turned to the other ponies at the table. "Um, it's like this. We used to have another sibling."

"When you were in Germany as human babies, right?" Hot asked, to Liberty's surprise. The mare clarified, "A few weeks ago we had a late night chat on the phone...he mentioned how your mother miscarried before she adopted you, but I didn't want to press the issue." She finished off softly, ears laying down.

Liberty gave Civil a quirky look. He crossed his forelegs and grumbled, "It was a long evening and I was vulnerable."

The two lady pegs giggle. Strato leaned over to Civil and said, "Don't pay them any attention. Us stallions are allowed to express ourselves, too." Despite his human ego wanting to grouse over the merits of being macho, he nodded his thanks to him.

"Don't have to tell me twice. In any case, it's only a sensitive issue because of the way our parents finally told us."

Liberty waited until Civil nodded to her. She continued, "And so, yeah, you have the one sibling that died in the womb. The other one, well, our parents successfully had that one and Civil and I were kids grew up with him when we were Jason and Renee. Then, around the time I was in college and Civ here was just starting the military...our brother, he was in high school, see. Anyway, on one weekend-"

"...september..." Civil said quietly.

"IN september," she looked sidelong at him, then to Hot and Strato, "One weekend, he passed out at a senior blowout party. While he was intoxicated...he uh...drowned, um, on his own vomit. They brought his body back, but there was no brain activity." Liberty placed her hooves on the table, not quite sure what else to say.

Their friends gasped, saying different forms of 'I'm so sorry' and 'I didn't know.' There really was no other civilized reaction to a story like that, and yet their sentiments were still heart felt. Liberty nodded her thanks.

Civil straigtened up, taking a deep breath. "It's not something we advertise, or bring up during meals, for obvious reasons."

His tiny mother spread her hooves out as though the explanation should be obvious now. "Anywho, the whole conversation about if a soul determines how you act or if it's due to upbringing or experiences...yeah, you can see why the big guy is a bit jaded about it."

"I'm not jaded. I just don't know what to believe anymore. He wasn't bad. He had a kind heart, was emotional, and...and..."

She replied plaintively, "He didn't know when to quit, Civ. He worked hard and played harder. That was his way of blowing off steam."

He turned to her, "But if that's how his soul works, then what about me? Am I predisposed to screw up all my life? If the problems I've had as a human are any indication, then my past as a pony that makes mistakes...not to mention no cutie mark...I'm really trying not to be selfish here, but all this just doesn't sit well with me, and I refuse to think all of this is by design. That robs us of any choice in the matter! It's all well and good if somepony else believes in me or I declare I won't fail, but I do, and I remember all my failures a hell of a lot more than my successes. I mean, you are a hard charger across TWO lifetimes, diving into situations, saving countries. Where are the warning signs to tell you Turn Back or Danger Ahead?"

She blinked at the focus now placed on her. "Warning signs? What warning signs?"

He clenched his jaw. "Exactly."

"Oh whatever. I just do what feels right, same as you-" She saw him shaking his head and poked him in the flank again. This time he jumped.

"Argh! Do you even know what you are jabbing!?!"

"Duh, your thigh. You'd think I'd know at least a little bit of horse anatomy. Vet clinic. Why? You needed it, what with you downing yourself and self doubt and-"

"THAT is where my cutie mark would be!"

Both pegasi sitting opposite them turned bright red and looked away in different directions. Hot mumbled, "Oh.....my. They haven't had 'that' discussion yet."

Strato shook his head in dismay. "Some conversations are best kept in the herd." He thought back on his first discussion about where cutie-marks come from, which inevitably led to the 'Look, Don't Touch' discussion. He grimaced and whispered, "Ima good pony." Hot quickly glanced at him as if she'd had a similar flashback and they both hoof bumped underneath the table. They were both GOOD ponies.

Liberty saw all of this, given her short stature. Raising her head from under the table, she took on a weird expression, her lack of clue showing. And she wanted answers. "What discussion?" The mortified look on Civil's face told her what was up. "Wait. Did...did I touch something...." Her voice lowered to a whisper, "....naughty!?!" She flapped her wings uncontrollable and whined, "How am I supposed to know the naughty bits from the public bits!"

"It's not a naughty bit!" He yelled back. Ponies and humans turned there heads to look at their table. The ponies spent all of one second before going back to their conversations, but a few of the humans lingered. These kinds of topics were mostly new to the two legs, even to the humans that had pony family and friends. Civil dipped his head as he felt all those gazes and lowered his voice, "It's not naughty...unless...you want it...to be, for Celestia sakes why am I even talking about this?"

Strato said lightly, "...because she was poking you in your naughty-"

"It was rhetorical, Strat!" Civil griped back.

Hot sighed to herself. Guess she was the one to mare up on this one. "Lib, dear," she started tentatively. "How should I put this? The mark doesn't define us. It merely underscores what we already know inside, like a testament, if you will. It shows us and all others a glimpse of what is inside."

Liberty muttered, "I kinda already knew that."

"Well, in some ways it's also like breaking the ice between strangers. It's not just a glimpse of what they are about, it's an insight into who they are. Clouds are for weather, stars for magic, earthy things for..." Their server went by and everypony at the table eyed the earth pony's pizza on her flank. "...earthy things. It doesn't determine our future or define us, it's just a representation of our special talent. So when another pony, hopefully one who is romantic, who is close to you...." She noticed Liberty had taken on a bored expression from the lecture, but she was still watching the mare.

Hot's eyes slid over to Civil and they lingered. Perhaps a while too long. She paused and then addressed Liberty again. "You know, while we are on the subject of souls, you could say it's like a window to our soul. The importance of it, of who we are, is on display for the world to see. Not to say that it is ALL we are, yet it is a glimpse of our inner self. That makes it a sacred thing to each of us. So the gesture of touching our mark, is like caressing...our soul." Liberty sat up. Now she was interested. Hot started getting a little flustered as she spoke, her cheeks glowing. No wonder her dam had a hard time discussing this that first time. While she was not afraid of intimacy with certain stallions she found interest in, discussing this among several ponies in public tested her nerve. She forged ahead.

Tapping her hooves together, Hot said slowly, "Some, uh, ponies, put so much thought into it, that it...'could'....be an erogenous zone." She held up one hoof and added quickly, "And I only say that part because I know you are an adult mentally. I wouldn't discuss this subject until my colt or filly was quite a bit older. It is enough to know about how sacred it is to us individually." She took a breath and tilted her head. "Not too much, Civ?"

He smiled gratefully. "Sounded fine to me. I am all frogs when it comes to talking about this stuff. To mares anyway."

She nodded, smiling as her natural color returned to her face. Holding a hoof to her mouth as if that would keep Strato and Liberty from hearing her, she whispered, "We'll work on that." Now it was his turn to warm up in the face. Strato tapping his own chest to salute Civil didn't help much.

Liberty sat there, processing. The pupils of her eyes did a brief constriction and she finally said, "Oh." Thinking on it some more, she glanced at the blank area on his side. At length she murmured, "Civil...I don't know what to say. I had no idea...and when I always told you it shouldn't be a big deal to dwell on...it was a big deal. Is. I feel like shit. I'm so sorry. I-"

He interrupted her with a gentle wingtip pressed against her muzzle. "No, don't. You were right. Dwelling on it keeps me from enjoying these moments." He glanced apologetically at the mare and stallion across from him. "Sorry...it's just, is it so bad not to know your special talent, what makes you, you? Mistakes and all?"

Hot reached across the table and touched her hoof to his. "Civil, all we can do is learn from our mistakes and move on. Mark or no mark, you follow your heart." She paused and her eyes flitted to the side, thinking. Then she gave him a solid look and said softly, "There was something I heard shortly after my transformation, when I was trying to come to terms with things. I spent countless nights trying to figure out my mark, scouring the net on anything and everything transformational and transcendental. And I found something to listen to. I won't peddle anything on you since it was for me to discover, as this is for you, but there was one line that struck me to my core. The narrator said 'the deepest secret to life is not a process of discovery, but a process of creation. Seek therefore not to find out who you are, but seek to determine who you want to be'."

She smiled wanly, let go of Civil and looked out the window. "I had flashes of my days as a filly, after the change. Only the barest fragments I could remember, when we'd be allowed to go discover our talents outside of school, explore what we could be. I would try so hard at different tasks." She giggled softly, smiling, and glanced back at Civil. "Those CMC episodes are not too far off the mark. My adventures seem so silly now. Our teachers allowed us to go forth and simply be, not randomly happen upon a talent. They knew this, but us young fillies and colts did not, obviously. Yet THAT is what we did, and all those adventures were just examples of how not to make a lightbulb, to reference Edison's attempts. We had to discover we wanted to be us. I wanted to be me, and I remember now that when I wanted to truly do something, not just go through the motions, THAT is when I became me...who I wanted to be. I think back and I finally understand why our teachers could not teach this fundamental thing. They could not teach us what we wanted to be. Nopony, no ONE can. But you can teach yourself, Civil." Her eyes were moist and alight with passion. "You can choose who you want to be, more so than any of us ever could now!" She smiled, "You consider yourself a blank flank? You have yet to have one of the greatest adventures in our lives." She calmed down and murmured, "Like I said, mark or no mark, you follow your heart. That has always been the pony way. You do understand this, don't you?"

Strato was dabbing his own eyes with a napkin. "Yeah bud, truer words have never been spoken. So you screw up a patrol duty, big deal. Drop a bundle of foal...-" He felt a jab from Hot in the ribs, NOT his mark, cuz she was a good pony, "...FoaLOWERS," he glared at her and continued, "and you pick her-THEM up. Or fly through a building. You get back in the air and venture on. While we are all playing catch up simply to discover what we had chosen to be in our past lives, you still get to be!" Hot's eyes flicked to a building down the street where a window on the third floor had a new window slightly shinier looking than the rest. Liberty followed her gaze and went wide eyed, then concentrated on her menu again. Strato rolled his eyes and shrugged, saying "Learn and move on." He turned to Civil, "That motivational enough for ya?"

"Yeah, I hear ya." He smiled and nodded. He looked down at his forehooves and put them on the table. "I'm sorry we brought this up, we should be enjoying each other's company. I promise not to bring up my mark business again." Liberty snorted softly to herself while Hot gave him a look that said he didn't seem to be getting the full message, but he'd chosen to be done with wallowing in self pity for the time being, so that was enough for her. "Can we change the subject?"

"Certainly," Hot nodded. She imagined this would not be the last time they discussed this, but she had planted a huge seed in his psyche, something that should have been done a long time ago, but probably his herd never got the chance, what with their troubled history. She brightened and asked, "What would you like to talk about now?"

Liberty exclaimed, "How about what's going on in this town? And what are we ordering!?"

Hot laughed. "I think we can knock out both of those in one day. Second one first!"

***

Strato wanted to join their tour of main street Frontier but he said he had some things he had to do. Apparently he was part of the local weather team and there were a lot of incoming farmers in the area wanting to take advantage of their services for the agricultural community. Before he left, he made sure Civil had his number.

"Yeah I got it," Civil confirmed by showing his buddy the cell phone, "It's in there, I'll call. Just be careful when YOU call, right?" Strato's ear twitched.

Liberty waved, "And happy flying, Strato Sphere!" She said in a cockney accent. The stallion's other ear twitched and he got a weird look, but nodded all the same and trotted off. A took few steps before gracefully flapping once to launch straight up into the air. Liberty simply stared. After a few seconds she said quietly, "Wow...he looked kind of cool doing that."

Civil frowned slightly, "Um, all he did was a low power take off."

"Yeah, but from this angle he looked really-"

"HOT! Time to start that tour." Civil turned around, keeping his MOM/sister from watching the departing stallion.

Hot grinned ruefully at the two, "Sure thing, Mister Flustered."

"Hey, you do know I used to be an adult, Civ?" Liberty demanded.

"Yeah, USED to be, and we're not having that discussion right now."

She crossed her forelegs. "But you two will be having it later tonight." He paused.

During their lunch, Hot had asked them where they would be lodging for the night...and that went over like a lead balloon, so she volunteered her home to keep their costs down. With all the things she wanted to show them, she knew they would be too tired to look for a place anyway. And they hadn't discussed sleeping arrangements yet.

"I'm well aware of what we haven't discussed yet!" But the audience isn't aware. Civil twitched.

He felt a wing wrap around his neck. "Civil, calm down. You're here to have fun. Shall we?" Hot's voice soothed the savage beast.

"For the record I'm not a savage beast."

Hot grinned, tugging on him slightly. Liberty leaned forward to rest her head on Hot's wing. "I know that. But she's right, you need to learn how to relax. From what I've heard, police work can be intense if you don't know when to switch it off between shifts."

He allowed himself to be pulled along. Shrugging, he replied, "If it's anything like guard duty, I'm not sure you CAN switch it off."

Before they got to the first store, he could see a large structure several streets over, peeking over the buildings. It was a water park, the main attraction a massive heart shaped slide with flaming wings.

Civil's eyes slid over to Hot Pink's cutie mark for comparison, then slid back to the slide. "That water slide over there looks...awfully familiar."

"Yes," she murmured with a sheepish expression. "I might have given some professional advice to a prospective business stallion regarding theme parks I used to live near. He has a flair for the dramatic when it comes to entertainment." As a laughing foal zipped around the inside of the large heart, looping at the apex, waterspray hit the flames of the construct's large flaming wings and steam hissed in billowing clouds, like smoke. "I thought it was flattering."

"Ostentatious...and awesome! I wanna try that!" Liberty announced, pointing her hoof toward it like a general commanding her troops from Civil's saddle.

"Not this time, squirt." Civil wasn't having it.

Hot grinned and tapped Liberty's head with her wingtip, "Perhaps next time, sweety." Civil shook his head but remained quiet.

He lingered on the large thing. "Free advertisement is good advertisement, I suppose."

".....plus thirty percent."

His head snapped around to stare at her. "What!?!"

She shrugged, placing a lollipop into her mouth. "I begged for ten, Civil." She glanced at him and raised an eyebrow at his expression. "Cupcake in the eye, swear. He was beyond a gentlecolt about it and insisted more. And I help him with new ideas and designs. You two should definitely try Discord's Discord. I took inspiration from that hurricane/tornado thing you mentioned."

He shook his head and continued with her down the sidewalk, "I honestly don't wanna know."

"I do!" Piped Liberty. He merely nodded in defeat. Of course she does.

They were stopped by an earth pony mare that came trotting up, a tan coat and blonde mane giving her a homely look. "Hello, Hot Pink! By the way, the new fertilizer shipment was delayed and you know us earth ponies, or the stallions at any rate. They are insisting on planting the seeds later this week before the ground is even ready-"

Hot shook her head and patted the mare's shoulder. "That's why we were stockpiling the synthetic blends this past winter. Tell them to use that but be easy on it until the organics come in, don't want to saturate the soil. Synthetics will also give that initial boost." The mare nodded and trotted away. She held up a hoof to Civil, "The synths are pony made, so no harsh chemicals. Naturally."

He looked visibly impressed, causing her to blush when he said, "Dare I say it, are you Mayor Pink?"

She snorted. "Perish the thought. Can you imagine trying to sustain resources for a community stacked in three different regions at the same time? That was Las Pegasus. I had to listen in on countless discussions with my sire and the city council. Hearth's Warming might be well and good for historical value, but they never talk about the realities of real work when building a future. My father taught me that. In Las Pegasus we did have some farms on the ground level, but they were not near enough to support the mountain side or the upper cloud levels. We had to improvise. This scrubland is waiting for a good set of hooves to work it. Just needs a pony's touch...and my experience in management helps them out."

"Thirty percent, too?" Quipped Liberty.

"Heavens, no, I wouldn't possibly ask. Suffice to say, they offer me food and I thank them and they thank me for my recommendations on logistics and I thank them...the thanking gets tedious after several minutes."

"My apologies," Civil said. She tilted her head at him, curious. He said, "To think I was worried about your financial situation...."

"Hmm..." She nodded solemnly. "Then you don't need to ask about the bakery, the ice cream parlor, the arcade, the candy store and the strip bar."

Civil stumbled slightly.

"It's good business to be involved in a little of everything. I learned that back in Equestria, among other things. And I'm not ashamed in the least...although if I were to be completely candid, the fighting games in the arcade are my particular fetish."

The stallion was gobsmacked for a good minute. When he finally found his voice, he croaked out, "There's so much wrong in that, Hots."

Liberty slapped the saddle side several times with her hoof. "Not for me!" She pointed at the mare, "You, me, Street Fighter Alpha, TWO!"

Hot grinned and tilted her head. "Against each other, or both of us against Vega?"

"Vega? That Spanish bull fighting guy?"

She chuckled. "Please. I have imported arcades, with the original names."

Civil tilted his head. "I know that game. But...how can both players fight the end boss at the same time?"

She grinned. "There is a code you put in using both joysticks and buttons. You each share the same health and power meter and you fight the final boss, together. One fight only for both player credits, but it's a rush."

"...that's righteous," Liberty breathed. She raised her hoof, "To the arcade! Then to the bakery! Then to the icecream parlor! And the candystore! And then we are going to take over the strip-!"

"That's enough to do for one day, thankyou Liberty! Don't need to overdo it." Civil eyed the foal on his back.

"Awwww," She whined, "You didn't let me get to do my Howard Dean scream. And I'm an adult last I checked, by the way. I can drink if I want to, and I want to see the night life!"

Civil snorted, shaking his head, "Not on my watch."

Hot patted the foal's head, "I would agree with Civ on the drinking. Your mind may be of age, but your body could be harmed by alcohol and salt while it is still growing. Do you wish to have stunted growth, stay that size forever."

Liberty couldn't have gotten any paler if a can of white paint had been dumped on her head. She groused darkly and stared straight ahead, "Then let's do all the other stuff......heeeeyaaaaaw...." It was the worst Dean scream ever to limp its way out of a mouth.

Civil nodded, "Good girl." The growl that answered him from behind his head certainly had more emotion behind it.

The arcade was very popular, showing a good mix of teenagers and adults, of both pony and human variety. They were able to locate the Street Fighter Alpha 2 game. Saving the 2 on 1 session for their last credits, Liberty played both Hot and Civil several times before she worked up an appetite. Nopony really cared who won or lost, though Civil held his own against the girls well enough. Announcing it was time for a snack run, Liberty happily accepted the dollar bills Civil hooved to her and she hopped down, trotting away. Civil and Hot began another round against each other. It was a classic Ken versus Ryu fight. Hot was Ken, naturally.

She watched Liberty make her way to the line where others were waiting to get their orders at the counter. Certain that the foal would be there for a while, she went back to concentrating on the screen, performing a few uppercuts and spinning kicks. "Mind if I ask you questions about your mother?" Civil raised an eyebrow and glanced to see if Liberty was still in line.

He snorted softly, "I'm pretty sure even she doesn't mind a few questions, and would blab about herself all day long if you wanted. Give her ten minutes, if that line is anything to go on."

"I'm thinking before the curse. After...after the last time you saw her."

Oh, that. "Ah," was all he said. When it came to the dark days of his youth, it made him feel dark. He chuckled and shook his head, focusing on his fighting patterns. "Psychological warfare to win? That's pretty cutthroat."

"I'm serious." She hauled back on the joystick, turtling up in defense as he threw move after move at her. While it whittled down her life meter one tap at a time, she could have easily responded with a counter move that would have stopped his string of attacks and knocked him down with a single twist of the stick back and down, along with a punch or kick to enact an 'alpha counter', yet she continued blocking. He saw that she wasn't fighting anymore, so he stopped his attacks. His character stood there, vulnerable, its prescribed animation making the character rise and fall slightly in its fighting stance. She turned her head to him, "Striding was surprised to see your mom alive. Did you ever talk to her about it?"

He met her gaze. "Striding? She asked me about my herd when I first arrived to her unit, standard background stuff. I told her I'd recently discovered my mother had passed away."

"How did she act when you told her?"

"Well, like any pony, she gave me her condolences and said if I needed to talk, she would have an open door. Unless it was closed for verbal reprimands. I think it was always closed when I was in her office."

"She didn't seem surprised to hear your mother was dead that first time you told her?"

"No....now that you mention it...." He glanced back at the screen. The timer was flashing, counting down the final seconds. His life meter was far lower than hers, but that round no longer mattered and he paid it no attention, turning back to Hot. There was a new game in front of him.

Hot nodded her head. "Her reaction was genuine when you introduced her to Libs, seeing her alive. Contrary to what she was briefed."

"And not a word of the stasis." His eyes flicked back and forth, trying to remember those talks years ago, to be in the moment and see in his mind's eye how Striding acted. He looked back up. "So...that means Celestia lied to her, too...lied to us all...."

The mare wrinkled her brow, "But why?"

"I don't agree with it, but it makes sense. To protect me and the rest of our herd." He shrugged as Hot slowly shook her head.

"No, Civ, it doesn't make sense."

He nodded emphatically, thinking he already had the answer. "Yes. To keep Lib's enemies from looking for her, or me later on, her only foal. Striding said so."

She held up her hoof. "You said early on your sire claimed she had left your herd. Your human mom and dad confirmed that was what you thought for a long time. Hearth's Warming Eve, while we waited for you, they confided in me. They were concerned I might say the wrong thing about that subject." He rolled his eyes over the 'waiting' part.

"Yes...but, I was young when we got the letter from Celestia. Maybe my herd wanted to protect me from the concept of death...to keep hope up about her still being alive-"

"Did you ever get to read that letter?"

He opened his mouth to say...something that had bothered him for a while. "No, I didn't. Grandsire threw it in the fire the night we got it. He was angry, crying too. I never saw him do either, or both at the same time until that night, and never again. Then when he was able to speak, he told me she had left. Later I asked my sire if it was true. Other colts at school would tease me when the rumor had gotten out. A lead mare leaving like that? You know how shameful something like that was back then. When I asked him, Sire repeated word for word what Grandsire had said, and that's when I knew he was lying. Not just the words, but the exact same words? Even ignoring that, it was when he would grit his teeth that he was telling a falsehood. But I never could figure out about what. Or why."

"To hide a truth." She murmured slowly, staring at him.

He chewed on the inside cheek of his mouth, working her words over in his mind. Celestia did a lot of things to protect her little ponies, all her little ponies. Could it have been a bigger cover up than just hiding the fact they used soul magic? Or the very least protecting his herd from retaliation. The more he thought, the more he began to come to terms with all the odd looks he would get from the princess during those few moments they passed each other in the castle hallways, or when she was in attendance in an area he was guarding, or those thankfully rare occasions he had to actually answer to her for something he knowingly did. If the letter told them one thing, and his family told him something else that made him endure shame to protect something bigger....

His eyes narrowed and he noted the corners of Hot's mouth tilt upwards. She had been waiting for him to arrive at the same thought. He smirked and muttered, "You know, I'm supposed to be the investigator, here. Police, hello?"

She snorted and shoulder bumped him. "Please, you are too close to this. Doesn't hurt to have a guide to help you through this emotional miasma."

"What emotional miasma?" Asked a nachos-chicken-chili-cheese tray loaded foal trotting up to them.

Civil saw the massive tray of food balanced on her back and merely shook his head. "We...uh, hm." He paused. Not wanting to have food fly everywhere, but also not wanting to deceive her, he tried to answer her question as delicately as possible. "Well, we were talking about you, back when you were an adult...and we may have figured out that we were all lied to in order to cover up a huge secret that goes beyond enemies, soul magic, or whatever else anypony comes along and is willing to tell us. Celestia is up to her cute little horn in something massive by lying and shaming our herd. Not to mention sticking you in a freezer for who would have known how long. That kind of coverup."

"Okay."

Civil coughed out, "That's it? Just okay?!"

Liberty carefully edged the tray onto a nearby booth seat and began sticking her nose into the mess. In between chomps she said, food spray and all, "Well obviously we have to go back one day and ask Celestia all about it."

Hot and Civil exchanged looks. The mare grinned and shrugged, "Kid 'takes a lickin and keeps on tickin'."

Civil frowned and addressed the foal, "Just pop into Equestria, ask the princess that raises the sun and moon about forbidden information, just like that?"

"Eeyup!" She even had a dollop of nacho cheese on her nose before she dove back in.

He shook his head and reached over to grab some napkins off the table, then proceeded to spread them under her chin. Every once in a while when she came up for air, he'd wipe her nose. Not that it was any good since she would get it smudged again with cheese and chili sauce, but he just couldn't sit there and watch her cutely defile all rules of eating etiquette in public. He said, "For one, the eeyup only works on ponies with deep voices. Two, what if she says no?"

She licked her lips and nose, showing that she didn't need a napkin. Then she stared up at him. "I kick her ass."

Hot leaned in, tapping her cute lil head with a wing, "Liberty dear, you can't just go around kicking asses to get what you want. Trust me, I know."

"Hay, I saved Equestria. That is a get out of jail free card for ass kicking in my book, even if she is the ruler. If anything, I'd say SHE owes ME."

Hot quirked her mouth, then looked up at Civil, "Huh, she has a point."

"Of course she does, why the Tartarus not...." He reached over and grabbed a few chips for himself before Liberty could polish them off.

Since they weren't going to glean too much more from speculation and choppy memories, they went back to playing arcades, from fighting games to skee ball, and a plethora of other games. They spent a couple hours there until Liberty was all gamed out. Then the real sight seeing began, though the foal mostly sat on the saddle, eating cotton candy they had bought for her at the arcade.

There were several businesses catering to ponies, like clothing, hardware tools, dietary choices. Yet they all tried to incorporate human aspects as well. The diners' menus would clearly mark pony-tolerant choices with a small equine shaped head. A disclaimer was meant to keep humans from having an upset stomach, though one would think eating hay or flowers would be obvious enough. Advertisements blended both pony and human attributes to their products, playing the multirole function for blended families, catering to hooves and hands alike.

Still other stores blatantly used pony fashions to entice non-ponies, which in some cases could have been absurd, but the wholesome nature of inclusion was just heartwarming enough to at least entice one to go window shopping or step in to get a closer look. Hoof socks displayed on human arms. Hot grinned seductively as she moved on, Civil and Liberty staring with mouths open at the mannequins on display.

They stopped at the local bakery and perused the goods. Cookies, breads, pastries all added their flavors to the air and Civil couldn't help but order several things for them. He ruefully smirked at Hot when he spotted the winged heart cookies with the red sprinkles. She looked away, "I have no idea what you are talking about," despite him not saying a word. Her mouth quirked into a half-smile.

So the day went, stopping at every store, business, and location even remotely interesting. Dinner wasn't even a sit down affair, given the number of food stands and vendors lining the street. Ponies sure loved their stands. And ponies loved visiting those stands too, including Civil and crew. Liberty was nonstop in pointing out the different items she wanted to try.

Despite her ravenous stomach, Civil did admit all of it looked good. Some items were being catered to humans here and there, yet most of the items were hay based, flowered or mostly vegetable. Some vendors sold grilled pieces of chicken, which Civil opted for. Yakitori, grilled Japanese style chicken on a stick. He hadn't had decent Asian food in a long time. Hot Pink went for a bowl of noodles and tempura vegetables. Liberty went for a little of everything.

By the end of their walking dinner, they felt they really had seen it all. All but 'that' place.

"Pleeeease!!! I promise I'll be good!" In answer to her wailing, he looked up at the sign she was pointing at, and saw the place they were standing in front of. His look of horror as he stared at 'that' place known as the Wings of Fiery Desirey was priceless. Hot silently raised up her phone and took a snap shot of both of them, opposite ends of the emotional spectrum.

"Totally scrapbooking that one."

He swallowed and gave her a withering stare. "I can't believe you are even part of this."

She glanced up at the neon sign of glowing wings on a heart surrounded by fire, the flames piped in by natural gas lines. One of the wingtips was holding a large round cherry lollipop which swirled with different shades of glowing red. A particularly inventive unicorn had lit that one up using ionized gasses to create the effect. The mare pulled out her blueberry lollipop only to say, "I have no idea what you are talking about. They wanted to know what showmares were like in our hotel back when I was a filly, so I gave them a few ideas. Some Chippendales in there, too." She popped the candy back in her mouth.

He grumbled, "Yeah, I can imagine."

"So can I, if you'd let me in there-" Liberty continued.

"No. N. O. Besides, it's nearly bedtime for both of us and I have a lot of stuff to do in the morning." With a look of help towards Hot, she nodded back in agreement.

"Don't worry, girl, when you are physically old enough, by Equestrian standards, we'll come back here. I'll even get them to serve you a Flaming Foal. Guaranteed to set you up for making more." They both cackled as Civil's cheeks turned bright red.

"Yeah yeah, lewd innuendo. Stop contributing to the delinquency of this minor." He trotted out into the middle of the street and looked around as if he would be able to spot where her home was.

Hot rolled her eyes, murmuring the word 'stallions' to herself. She gently poked a pouting Liberty whose eyes were still lingering on the risque establishment. When she got Liberty's attention, she said, "It's not that long of a wait. We age faster." That seemed to placate the bundle of grump.

The older mare lightly touched Civil's shoulder with her wing and pointed it up into the sky. He squinted, using his flight vision and spotted the home floating up high, a nicely built cloud that was stationary despite other clouds lazily moving by it in the night sky. The town lights helped illuminate the bottoms of the clouds for his daytime oriented vision, else he would have been flying blind going up now. Liberty, for her part, stayed grumpy even as they lifted off into the air. Normally she was in awe of flying. It might have been that she was finally starting to get cranky from all the excitement of the day...until the cloud house got closer.

While Civil had an idea of what to expect, he was still just as moved as they approached it. Scratch that, it was not just a cloud house, or some ground pony's home adapted to the skies. This, ladymares and gentlecolts, was a cloudominium. And it was huge. Technically it was three stories, if one were counting floors. That third floor, though, reached up almost another fourth floor. The structure was taller than it was wide, using multiple smaller clouds in addition to the large foundation cloud to branch off smaller rooms for support. Marble pillars ringed all three floors on the outside and provided support to the smaller clouds.

There were no rainbows sprouting off or making rainbow waterfalls, zoning laws still pending, Hot filled in. The landscape lighting more than made up for it, innumerable colors providing beautiful contrasting and complimentary hues up the trunks of the pillars, their bases, the windows, and the undersides of the support clouds. Water fountains and mist sprayers whipped up enough moisture in the air to provide constant material strengthening for the clouds as well as a haze to make it all appear surreal, like a page out of a children's fairy tale book. Calling it a cloudominium was nearly an insult to what was before them as they alighted on the outer edge of the cloud foundation. Civil didn't even know his jaw was hanging down until he felt a pink wing gently push it back up. He glanced over to Hot and noticed she was blushing fiercely.

"It's just a pegasus home, Civil, nothing to gawk at," she said candidly.

"It's incredible. I never got to live in one back home, but I used to know what they looked like. Until now." This only caused her to blush harder and she turned away. Usually she was on her A-game in the confidence department. He must have really been affecting her today. He looked behind him. "So, what do you think? Does it measure up to your standards in luxury living arrangements?"

She was in utter awe of Hot Pink's home. "I want to live here, die here, then come back and live here again!"

He chuckled and reached back to loosen her saddle straps. "I think you've had enough dying for several lifetimes, if you ask me."

Hot walked up and pressed a hoof against the doors to open them. "If you think all this is something, come on in and look inside."

They followed her into the foyer, and it didn't disappoint. Civil was immediately struck by how similar it was to the television show. It was vast, a circular chamber dominated by a gilded staircase that split into two opposite directions curving away to lead to the second and third floors. Several doorways around the outer perimeter of the foyer led off to different rooms and hallways. Most of the foyer was made of marble, from the floor to the steps of the staircase to pillars around the walls. As their eyes followed the staircase up and up, they could see the center of the building was hollow all the way up to an open sky.

As he stared up at the open ceiling, he said, "Now that does take your breath away. Are you worried that it rains inside?"

She smiled, looking up as well. "No. I'm using a transparent cirrus dome at the top. It's thin enough to let any flyer and light through, but non-permeable to rainwater which rolls off to the sides. It's certified against hail too. I tried to make it open and airy so you can feel safe and be able to fly around at the same time."

Liberty had hopped down and was tapping her hooves on the marble. She scampered over to a hallway branching off of the main chamber and tapped the wood flooring. "We're on a cloud, right? How is this stuff not falling through?"

Civil chuckled, choosing not to poke fun at her. Without a lifetime to recall, she really was a spring foal learning about a whole new world. He answered, "The cloud firmament is packed hard enough using pegasus magic to hold earthbound materials. I wouldn't try flying through it at any speed, so you need to pay attention when flying, especially when you are in a residential area like this." On that note, he pulled out his flight pad and pulled up his Kittyhawk program that displayed local special use airspace. The entire town was covered by a mechanical no-fly zone. A note stated that only biologicals and flight approved chariots/carriages were allowed, those later vehicles needing Center approval for SUAS entry. He nodded and looked to their host.

"Would you like to see the rest of it?"

He made to answer but paused, watching Liberty scramble up the steps. Poor thing had totally forgotten she had wings and could simply fly up to the next level if she wanted. The older ponies grinned at each other, the mare holding her wing up. He nodded again and took to the air, Hot following close by his side.

The rooms were pretty standard, if a bit opulent in decor. You had your main bedroom, spare bedrooms, bathrooms with accompanying teleport potties (EPA compliant to deliver waste to the nearby treatment plant), gym, swimming pool (for the love of Celestia a swimming pool!?!). Kitchen was downstairs. Then there was-

"I call this the hangout room." In human terms, it was a man-cave. In pony terms, it was paradise. The room was huge, floored in white smooth marble tiles and alabaster walls with countless 80's and 90's memorabilia hanging up here and there. There was a pool table clothed with burgandy felt, a foosball table, a smattering of arcade games, a vintage jukebox filled with vinyl 45 records, a bar-

"A BAR!" Liberty exclaimed and she was off to the races, this time using her little wings to propel her through the air.

"No alcohol! Or salt!" Civil yelled after her.

Liberty stopped flapping mid air and dropped like a tiny lead balloon, skidding to a halt. She squirmed around and asked in confusion, "No salt...?"

Hot lifted an eyebrow, "She doesn't know about salt?"

"No," said Civil in a huff, "And she isn't going to."

"I am going to! What's wrong with salt?"

"Nothing, and you are not."

"She has the knowledge of an adult," Hot said, trying to arbitrate the situation. "She's going to, whether you like it or not."

"Not tonight. And no sugar, it's late as it is."

"WHAT?!? You drink cokes at midnight!"

"You are a foal, no sugar."

"Sugar is good for us, remember? Magic conversion?"

Hot gave up and sat there, watching them with a mildly disinterested expression.

"You don't need to convert shit right now! It's late, and still past your bedtime!"

"Oh you are not pulling this shit on me! I'll have you know I'm your mother!"

"You wouldn't have known that shit if I hadn't told you!"

"Exclusivity of information, AND shit, does not give you the right to be an asshole!"

"This asshole is making THAT asshole not drink hyperactive drinks THIS late at-"

A shoulder bump made him pause. Hot leaned in and said softly, "I'll handle the drinks. Why don't you pick out a song, something to mellow the mood." She pointed her nose toward the juke box and smiled at him. He had reservations about leaving Liberty at the bar, yet Hot Pink hadn't given him reason to worry in the past. He sighed and wandered over to see what he was working with, and was impressed when he began examining it. It was a Rock-ola vintage bubbler 45 record edition with silver accents and satin black finish, the silver and black making the rainbow colors of the LED curved panels and bubbler tubes pop with vibrancy. He whistled softly to himself. Feeling his hairs twitch, he snuck a glance toward the two lady pwns and saw Hot mixing up a few drinks, grinning to herself when her eyes nonchalantly swept by Civil and his gawking of her equipment.

Focusing back on the music selection, he hit the button that turned the plastich menu pages, soft clacking sounds issuing forth with every page turn. There were definitely some classics here. Bob Seger, Eagles, Floyd...but he wanted something else. A few more button presses, and...bingo. That got his attention. Pushing the selection in, the rack of records twirled in its vertical configuration until it stopped and the loading arm pulled out the right black record and flipped it down. The needle floated over and settled onto it. There were no pops of static, no scratches as his eyes scanned the surface before the turntable spun up. She took care of her stuff. A piano and stringed bass started issuing forth from the speakers and a soft male voice started singing Eric Clapton's Autumn Leaves.

Hot was bobbing her head to the selection when he walked over to the girls. He saw Liberty with her hooves wrapped around a tumbler filled with ice and a dark bubbly liquid. He raised his brow, "Soda?"

"Diet soda, thanks for nothing," Liberty pouted. Then she raised her glass, eyed him over the rim of the SALTED glass and licked it. His eyes went wide and he glared at Hot, only to see her holding a container of Morton's salt substitute before she snuck it back into a cabinet down by her legs. He swallowed his unspoken rebuke with chagrin and accepted the glass she nudged toward him.

"um...thanks" he muttered.

She grinned back at him. "Don't mention it, tiger. Besides, she's happy, I'm happy, you should be happy."

He sighed and nodded. "I know. I'm just tired. Was a very long and eventful day and I enjoyed all of it." Watching him sip his drink, she snorted and quaffed half of hers. He shook his head and pointedly sipped at his again. Reaching under the bar, her hoof bumped a few buttons, turning down all the main lights until just the light strips under the eaves of the bar, the cabinets, and the jukebox lights were glowing, casting the room into a 'bar is closed' kind of appeal. Last ponies standing, he mused to himself.

Liberty's eyes drifted from her supposedly taboo drink over to a floating object near the couch. Her face lit up, as well as her wings flapping in excitement. "Hots! Is that...can I...would it be okay if-!!!"

The older mare laughed and answered, "Yes, sweety." She barely got the word yes out before only a rocking glass was left on the bar. Hot reached over and steadied it with her hoof, calling after the zooming foal, "Yes, that is a cloud bed, yes you can use it, and it would definitely be okay. I was able to get one pressed together, a short notice order by our lead weather pegasi just for you, kiddo." Liberty was already using it, rolling around on the floating mass of cloud and thoroughly acting her age. Hot finished off her drink and set it down next to the foal's tumbler. She tilted her head to the couch. "Shall we?"

Civil nodded, finishing up with his drink and pushing the glass against the other two, forming a tight triangle. He slid off the barstool and trotted over to the couch, more to make sure Liberty didn't fall out of her bed than anything else. He settled down on the couch. A few moments later, Hot came over and settled down next to him. She looked up at the frolicking filly. "We can move the bed to one of the spare bedrooms. I wanted to show it to you in here first, to relax in. More to the point, so she could fall asleep in it while we chatted." Her eyes slid over to him, and he was captivated. "IF you want to just chat."

He stared, not knowing what to chat about, or what else to do, for that matter. She smiled and nodded, sitting back to get comfortable, rolling her shoulders a little. Then she tilted her head.

"Mmm...hello Civil."

"Hello Hots."

She giggled. Granted it was a cheap way to get things rolling, roleplaying an initial meeting of happenstance, yet she found it fun to see how he reacted. Playfully, she looked around at the couch and quirked her brow, saying demurely, "Dejavu. We've been here before."

He nodded. "Yes we have." His breath caught in his throat as he studied her face, her ears, her eyes. He could hear his heart thumping loudly and prayed that she didn't, and yet, by her expression, he was sure she already knew what she was doing to him. Ear twitching, he swallowed and said, "I find you very attractive. I really do-" He paused when she opened her mouth, thinking she wanted to say something, only it was a blessing when she didn't, for he could only stare at it, watching the tongue move, the teeth glisten, all parts of a beautiful and captivating mouth. Her tongue lightly moistened her lips. She didn't have to say a word. And they both knew it.

Breaths held, noses approaching, inch by excruciating inch, their faces warmed at the impending touch. He hadn't really kissed a girl or pony since...well since high school, and technically that didn't count because she ended up liking girls anyway, but this was serious and he really wished he had trained on how to do this and this was not the time to be overthinking something that should be so simple and sensual and quiet.......why was it so damn quiet all of a sudden?

He pulled back slightly. Hot did similar, a look of concern crossing her equine features, the ears swiveling in slight alarm, irises adjusting to let in more light out of instinct. Then her scalp shifted with both ears moving forward as understanding overtook concern. Both adults turned their heads.

Liberty laid there with bated breath watching them, hooves pressed against her lips. When it finally occurred to her that they were staring back at her, she lowered her hooves and whispered, "I'm not here. Go back to what you were about to do."

The stallion's eyes narrowed and he whispered, "Why are we whispering?"

"She doesn't want to spoil the moment," whispered Hot Pink.

He looked deadpan at her and muttered, "Well she kinda did...but it's not her fault. Not entirely." Civil sat back on the couch. "I'm sorry. I want to. My body definitely wants to." A groan from Liberty lambasting him on his super cringe made him grit his teeth. "I can't help it, I have feelings and I feel she needs to know them."

Liberty sat up and made to retort but stopped when Hot held up a hoof. "It's alright, Libs. He's correct. Letting others know his feelings is the best thing he can do when he is unsure. Besides, it's adorable." Liberty ugh'd in exasperation and fell back in her fluffy bed. Hot smiled and looked at Civil. "You want to be secure in your job before you take a leap of faith on your emotions."

He nodded and replied, "Even if I pass the initial application process, completion of the academy is an eight month ordeal." At her look of slight frustration, he shook his head, "Don't worry, I'll visit and go on more dates with you. I'm not doing the cold turkey Rocky thing." She raised a brow at him and he answered back in a gravel accent, "Women weaken legs."

She laughed and shook her head, "Hate to break it to you, Italian Stallion, but we do." When his eyes widened, she grinned and swooped in to kiss him for a single second before pulling back. "...'more dates' you said?"

He stuttered back, "Y..yeah, cuz I figured this...today, was like a date...minus the mom chaperone thing...uh..." She saved him further embarrassment by placing a wingtip on his lips.

"I had a more glorious date today than I can possibly remember in my past. Both pasts. Thankyou Civil." She turned her head back to the staring foal, who was back in the same exact position they caught her in before. "And thankyou as well, Liberty. While I know part of your visit was to help you, I'm glad it put you both in my neck of the woods."

Liberty grinned back unabashedly. "You bet, Hots. You two look too cute together not to hit it off." She sat up and held up her hoof, "I promise to make him come back here and have a proper dinner date in the future, or shove a cupcake in my mouth and hope to fly somewhere."

Before Civil could address the filly on how atrociously she screwed up that quote, Hot pulled his head back to her with a gentle hoof and nuzzled his cheek. She said quietly, "You do need to sleep. I would invite you upstairs, but that is not your way." She pulled back and grinned slightly. "Not yet, anyway."

He nodded, entranced. She slipped off the couch and headed to the hall, sashaying the entire way. Both Liberty and Civil watched her go, never blinking. She paused and turned her head to them. "There are blankets inside the end table, if you don't want to use any of the bedrooms." And then she melded into the shadows of the hallway to go upstairs.

"How did you manage to let her do that and still have her go upstairs all alone? TWICE!?"

Civil glared at his mother. "Because she understands me and what I need to do."

"Oh don't give me that," she retorted indignantly. "I understand you. I just can't believe you. She totally wanted to surrender-"

"Stop!" He sighed and said in a quieter voice, "She totally understands that I promised to date her more and take this slowly." Pressing a hoof to his chest, he added, "If I rush this, I will screw it up. I can feel that deep down. Just...let me take this at my own pace."

Instead of responding, Liberty grumbled and paced around a few times in the bed, pushing down a some wispy lumps. Satisfied, she thrashed her tail once and curled up into a ball. Poking her head over the edge of the bed, she stated, "Well don't string her along. THAT I will not allow. She's good for you, and you need her, dammit." With that, she stuck her head under her wing.

Looking to the side, he thought about Liberty's words, her demeanor and body language. He frowned. "Liberty...what's going on?" She didn't respond. "Liberty? Are...are you afraid I'm going to leave you?"

She growled and lifted her wing, staring daggers at him. "This is not about me, okay? Argh!" She shook her head in disgust and twisted around, putting her back to him. "I can't believe you would think I'm that selfish. I know perfectly well if you have to move away, then that's what needs to happen."

He wasn't buying it. "Then why the anger, the theatrics?"

An exasperated sigh came from her and she lifted her head, still facing away from him, "You sure you really want to know this?"

"Yes."

Her head slumped down. True she could have kept her mouth shut, but that would have been contrary to her whole argument for pushing the issue. This was at the core of who she was, or so she felt. The odd thing though, she had always felt this way, even prior to becoming a pony. While Liberty still didn't totally believe in the destiny thing and cutie-marks, she did know what was in her own heart and this felt right.

After a minute, she replied slowly, "It's nothing definite. Just a feeling. You have your feelings, I have mine. Mine says this relationship is going to open you up and free your personality in such a way, you have no idea." Liberty twisted her head back over her shoulder to regard him. "I can't even tell you why I am wording it that way, that's just what I'm feeling inside. I know you two need to be together. She already brightens you up, lights up your demeanor...she will set you free. I dunno, maybe it has to do with cutie marks after all. Damned if I know what any of it means at this point." She put her head back down, staring away from him. "I have a symbol for freedom and guiding light on my ass. Take it or leave it."

He regarded her with mild awe. Did she have that kind of insight into things? Or was it simply that obvious and he was too scared or hung up on himself to see the way forward. It was well known that most cutie-marks came forth through some event significant to the individual pony, as well as helping them to fine tune their strengths later in life. Sometimes, there was a deeper meaning that a few got to discover. He had always hoped when he was a colt that he would get to see his mother in action, saving Equestria again and again as an example of her special talent. Maybe he had misinterpreted what her mark meant all these years, seeing nothing but glory and strength. He shrugged to himself. At least she had something to go by. He glanced at his own flank, fur unblemished by anything significant.

"You are brooding again. I can practically hear it over here."

"Fine. I'll take it, like you said." He blinked and quickly said, "Your advice. Not...your ass. Fuck, you know what I mean."

She giggled and yawned, "Yeah, I know. If you're feeling frisky though, I won't follow you upstairs." She grinned when she heard him huff and slump himself into the couch, grabbing at one of the nearby blankets to cover up. A second later, she got hit by a similar blanket as he tossed one up to her. "Thanks," she muffled under it...and didn't move. Now she was in sleep heaven.

He shook his head and laid it down, stilling his thoughts so he could get some sleep.

***

It was a lake. Nice, serene, placid. The surface was a mirror of the sky, just a darker surface of glass. The only indication that time wasn't standing still was the occasional insect flitting across it and the clouds lazily drifting by up above. It was as tranquil as anypony could ask if one wished for a quiet getaway from everything.

Civil chucked a rock as far out into the center as he could, shattering the moment. Not so unexpected, he heard chuckling behind him.

"Oooooh, somepony wants to play with chaos, disrupt the boringly boring. May I join in?"

Civil glanced behind him and shrugged at the draconequus who happened to be tossing a small meteor up and down in his claws. Without much fanfare, the creature spun around and lobbed the space rock high into the sky. It came down to impact a shimmering image of a castle floating just above the center of the lake. Civil could barely make out a familiar group of mane 6 ponies running around in front of the castle skittering across the water before the whole scene vaporized. Lake, castle and all were turned into a smoking crater. The pegasus raised an eyebrow at Discord.

"What? You have your roles to play, I have mine."

Civil rolled his eyes, not in the mood for the god's antics. He hefted another stone in his hoof, but sighed when he realized all that was before him was a pit of smoking ragnarok. Discord snapped his digits and the lake returned, sans castle and miniature pony targets. The pegasus smiled and tossed the stone again, though this time seeing the resultant splash wasn't as...thought provoking as watching a meteor strike.

"Mmmm," hummed Discord as he floated by, wearing a pair of glasses and holding a notepad with a pen. "Something on your miiiiiind?"

"You would know, since you are one of the somethings IN my mind," he replied.

Discord rolled around and put a paw on his own chest, "Moi? Whatever do you mean?"

Civil glanced to the side at him, rolling another stone around in his hoof. "We visited a unicorn and got a bit more information about what happened to my mother. Interesting things."

Grinning, the draconequus pricked his own tongue with the ballpoint pen and set to writing in his notepad, "Ah, we are making progress, do continue."

"How did she bounce back?"

Discord snorted softly to himself, eyes never leaving his pad. "I presume there were some lingering effects that did not agree with the original child, so she merged with its soul and came back. It happens."

"It HAPPENS!?! Woh, hold up, souls can merge? I thought..."

Looking up placidly, Discord asked, "What, that souls are finite, quantifiable? Spbpt, you mortals are so...mortal..." He leaned closer to the pad, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth as he concentrated on a particular detail. "...souls are infinite."

"I was told that."

"Well in this case..." He squinted, holding the pad away from him, "in this case, you are still too thin. Ahem, in THIS case, for brevity, let's just say she returned as a newborn, and the other newborn no longer had a soul to survive."

Civil stared at the creature in shock and whispered, "...it died." He continued sullenly, "The mother would have miscarried if it had no soul...no, it's just coincidence." Civil shook his head, refusing to believe, "There's no way-"

"No way that...what? That you just happen to know which mother it was? What are the odds, mmmmm?" Discord then scribbled out the detail, breaking his pencil. He tossed it away and grabbed another one, continuing to scribble. "There are no coincidences."

"You killed my human sibling." Now Civil's wings were out, armed with blades.

Snort, "Hardly. Unicorns did that."

"And your curse shit played no part?"

Discord's pen punched a hole in the pad and a single blazing eye stared at Civil through it. "I gave her the promise of twenty five more years of life. Otherwise, she was better off dead, at least her current body, and thus her brain." The eye began to smolder. "Memory is mostly an aspect of the corporeal realm. As a result of her brain's destruction, she lost the physical engrams housing her life's experiences, the physicality aspect of her experiences." He became more angry as he spoke, "Not only did they ruin her body, what they did to her left lingering markers on her s-" He stopped and pulled his head back from the pad, eyes narrowing. "You are not ready to know the secrets of the multiverse. Not consciously, at any rate. Get more experience first."

"What am I 'allowed' to know?"

"Sigh, and yes I said sigh out loud. You already know all there is to know but you have not experienced it yet, so naturally you fools think RNG is actually RNG, for starters. Hah. The devil’s greatest trick was in convincing you beings that he did not exist. His next greatest trick was lying to you that he did. And you believe in RNG. If you were not cursed, would you be related to said sibling?....or found your mother again? How about saving bestest pony?"

Civil squinted at him. "Bestest...what are you talking about? My mother?!"

"Hmm. T.M.I."

"Look, as for finding my mother...it was..."

"Mmm?"

"It was destiny-"

"Hahahahhaahah!" Discord brayed, spewing food into Civil's face. Reeling back, the pegasus wiped the debris out of his eyes. The draconequus had an entire banquet next to him which was only now disappearing. Did he conjure up all of that so he could spit-laugh into his face!?! "You mean if a butterfly beats its wings in 35,000 BC you won't turn into a whiny bitch? Hahahahahhahaaaa." The scene briefly flickered to a very familiar bar during a very familiar conversation before returning to the current landscape.

Civil sputtered, "...I'm not a whiny bitch. I am just...emotional sometimes." He should have known that any conversation would be known to this creature.

"Well now, that I can appreciate. Emotion is the stuff of pure energy, which leads to thought, which leads to action, which leads to reality. Soooo want me to help you save bestest pony?"

"I still don't know who or what you are talking about."

"You will....heheheh....you will. Still too early, like I said. Anyway, are we done boring me? I have people to do, things to see." He made no move from his lounging position, still playing with his pad.

"I'm curious. Other humans that reverted back to foals, they had to relearn how to speak as they reached the appropriate age. I noticed a few of them when I was in Equestria. A doctor mentioned it as well. How come my mother could speak as a newborn? From the moment she changed, she could."

"Eh?" Discord peered over his glasses, pausing his scribbling of a fat version of Civil on the pad, "Does it matter?"

"Yes. Or I won't talk to YOU anymore. In this place. Ever."

That got the god's attention. His eyes narrowed and he tossed the pad away. "It was a terrible picture anyway. Couldn't quite catch the attitude you were projecting." He hummed to himself, talon poking his own chin. "You do drive a hard bargain, though." He floated away, almost as if to leave, then paused, and slowly lowered to the ground. Civil's ears flicked as he picked up a sound in the background. It was music.

And it was starting to build. Discord's body shifted, became more compact. He began to look like a human, dressed in a long purple overcoat. The head sprouted green hair. When he spoke, it sounded like his voice was coming from the back of his throat, nasally. It sent shivers through Civil as he recognized exactly who he was impersonating. "....whatever doesn't kill you, simply makes you....stranger." He turned around and Civil saw he was wearing the same clown mask from the bank robbery scene. It sat just far enough forward on the face to make the eye holes shadowed, as though nothing were behind them. "I put a little neuron net around her brain so when she reverted back to a pony, she would retain a link to her human vocal memory. Such a trivial thing anyway, silly that you would burn your only leverage on that question." He giggled in a high pitched voice. "Almost a joke of a question, if you weren't...so serious."

Despite the music and this creepy turn of the conversation, Civil eyed him suspiciously, "So she has no memory of being Equestrian, of her former life, just her human memory. She doesn't get to experience the whole 'leave your minds confused' part like the rest of us. In exchange for her memory."

"Bodies confused, bodies-" He growled to himself and turned away, making a choking move with his hands. The music stopped. He spun around and faced Civil, tilting his face while flicking his hands in front of him. "You can't even remember a curse correctly." Discord shook himself and groused, "Let's just say I gave her a bit of...justice...to offset what was done to her. Blame your unicorn pals for the memory wipe. What they did was a violation of creation, forcing the body's will onto the soul." He pointed accusingly at Civil. "Their playing at godhood primed her to turn into that newborn. I was the beneficial one, like I said in our previous session. Thought you'd have figured that out by now. Manipulating genetic code, tweaking memory, anchoring the soul-" Discord stopped short, then stared at Civil ominously, that mask a dour frown. His voice lowered as he continued, "-more things you should not know or ask about. That's my business, and mine alone." He paused, looking to the side. "Maybe not alone. But NOT YOURS! They played with fire and everybody got burned. 'Cooked' her a little too long in the oven, so to speak. Bun in the oven. Baby foal, get it?"

"Yes," Civil groaned, glaring back at the aggravating creature.

"Good," retorted Discord as he began pacing. His voice got high pitched, "You can't imagine how LONG I've been waiting to get that one out. The joke, out. Not the bun in the oven out of the oven-" as he gestured with both arms in some perverse pantomime.

"I get it! So all she ever was, memories, all of it, are unrecoverable, gone. Is that what you are saying?"

"All she ever was?" In what could have been a look of horror, Discord grimaced as he raised his arms up, almost pleading to the heavens. Then he dropped them, literally, on the ground and leaned over Civil menacingly and disarmingly, "Don't be so fourth dimensional. All she ALWAYS is...is ever was, and will be." Discord shook his head, mumbling about insufferable lower lifeforms.

"I can still hear you."

"Of course you can. Look, if not for me she'd still be a temporal popsicle in the dark somewhere, hidden away." Discord popped out of existence and reappeared as a red, white, and blue bomb popsicle with a giant wristwatch about his middle.

Civil simply asked "Why?"

Discord popped into his normal self again and checked his arms. "Mm?"

"Why would you go out of your way to do that for her? After all the other bad things...." He wanted to recite the litany of harm Discord had done, and yet, something deep down made Civil start to contemplate bigger things, things outside his knowledge but on the edge of his awareness. The very least, he had been developing an understanding of sorts. Things in the universe happened for a reason. Could this have been one of those things?

The god watched him closely, as if he wanted to say something but didn't want to spoil the surprise.

"What reason did she give you to help her, besides a friendly deathbed chat?"

Discord wilted slightly as if disappointed. He ignored him, looking away. And not saying a thing.

That's a first, Civil thought to himself. He got Discord to shut up. What's more, he had the god off balance, on the defensive...and Civil felt like some ungrateful child having a tantrum over a gift he did not ask for. In retrospect, it was the most precious of gifts. He had his mother back, perfectly healthy and at the beginning of a new longer life than any pony could ask for. This was not a gift. It was a miracle, from a mad god. "You don't want anypony to know the real you, do you?"

This time Discord did respond by spinning around at Civil, snarling, "AND THEY BETTER NOT! I have a reputation to maintain. Yours is to know the real YOU, not like you'll get it this time versus the countless other times you were told. Besides, you couldn't possibly imagine why I do things. Not at this stage of your evolution. Just a hint would drive you insane, or worse, cause me to actually like you." He flipped a paw contritely.

"...thankyou." The wing blades disappeared.

Discord was taken aback. "What? No more eviscerations or gut stabbing? And here I was working on my abs for just the occasion." He thrust out his belly and each ab was lifting a dumbell. The display was both impressive and horrifying to behold.

Civil looked away, then glanced at the lake again. "Perhaps a lonely soul prefers peace every now and then." The stone fell from his hoof to the ground. The lake was once again a dark mirror of the sky. To be honest, he didn't know who he was referring to.

"Perhaps," the god mused under his breath. He deformed back into the masked villain. The background of everything began to pull away as the creature seemed to be getting closer, like a professional camera shot. Only...Civil was not using a camera. He glanced down to see he was standing perfectly still and looked up as the being began pulling closer and closer. "Take heed your ingenuity does not land you in any water too hot to jacuzzi in. Not that it wouldn't benefit you, but I doubt you would fine it pleasant. Still...if you should need some, shall we say, guidance, you have my number." The lake began to bubble as though there were ocean floor vents underneath, which the pegasus immediately ignored as a joker playing card was flicked toward him and landed at his hooves. When he looked up again, Discord was mere inches from him, the mask's eye holes still in darkness. After seeing the entity in action all these years, Civil felt he could hold his ground. He didn't flinch.

Speaking evenly, Civil said, "To tempt danger is a fool's path. To tempt you is twice so."

The god giggled softly and reached up with a purple gloved hand to his chin. "And yet, you will, not-my-little-pony, you will." He tore his mask off-

***

Civil jumped up from the couch, swearing, and fell out of the couch. Dammit, this shit again? He got up, kicking off the blanket that was wrapped around his legs. Glancing around, he got his bearings, checked his internal altimeter and noted they were still in Hot Pink's cloud home in the sky. He began breathing deeply to slow his heart. Stretching and hearing the kinks pop out of his shoulders, he sat up on the floor and grumbled, "Lonely or not, he's an asshole any way you look at him."

Liberty stuck her head over the edge of her floating bed. "Who's an asshole, and lonely? Are you dreaming of assholes?"

"Just one."

She curled up again out of sight and murmured, "It better not be me...i'll kick yer ass....soon as i get in another hour or two of sleep....zzz......zzZZ.zzz....nnmm....then....i want a cloud bed just like this one when we....mmm, home.......zzz, zzZZZzzzzz....."

He shook his head and got up. He'd had enough sleep. Afterall, in a couple hours they had to fly back, drop off Liberty, turn around and head into downtown Dallas to report to the headquarters building at 1400 S. Lamar St. He was expected to perform a physical fitness test, a written test, and be subjected to a slew of questions and polygraphs that would determine definitively what he would be doing for the rest of his life...or not be doing...

...if he fucked it up and pulled a Civil.

Author's Note

I might have gone a little heavy on the music links but I felt the story needed them and music is such a good emotional vehicle. I am also liking embedded links better, that way it doesn't pull the reader out of the story and they can choose to click or not.

Tests, Trials, Tribulations...

There were droves of them congregating in groups beside their communication vans. Antenna towers already extended, cameras on shoulders or set on tripods, they were prepped for live broadcasts as soon as they spotted their quarry. And he knew who they were waiting for. Up on the roof of the building, Civil stared down at all of the reporters and cameramen arrayed on the street corner of the Dallas Police Department headquarters. He had spotted them long before he got within their eyesight and had angled around to use the building for cover. Luckily the multi-level parking garage and private lot behind the building was a secure area and the gated fencing kept outliers from monitoring his approach.

He was pretty sure application day for candidates never garnered this kind of fanfare...certainly not the kind he was used to...you know, like when he screwed up yet another case or was causing political nightmares for that certain Civil banishing princess back in Equestria. Those events typically led the front page on whichever paper gave a rat's ass when nothing better was worth printing for the day. Back then it was such rags as the Canterlot Gazette, the Canterlot Cwibbler, or the more prestigious Canterlot Times. Manehattan Times gave even less of a rat's ass. Their motis operandi was to usually be flank deep in some scandal within their own city. Canterlot was too hoity toity for their more 'sophisticated' Manehattan readers. Snort. A Royal Guard member messing up in the capital? Not a blip on their radar. Though those ponies felt it was their Celestia-given right to be miserable and treat other ponies like dirt anyway, so fuck em.

Today's deal was a massive blip, if he was reading those vehicle labels down there correctly. The majority of them were not local, a lot of vans down there were belonging to TV stations and channels he didn't recognize. Sitting back so nobody would spot him, he thought about his options. All the other entrances required a security card to badge in since they were cypher locked. He could try sneaking in with a uniformed officer, but he was more likely to be detained and cause an even bigger scene, first for the sneaking bit, and second because there was no way any pony could sneak anywhere these days, not with the population being more human than pony. He snorted to himself. He imagined non-pony refugees had it even worse getting from point A to point B these days. Still...he preferred to not make a first impression guaranteed to reject his application before he could even take the exam.

Flexing his wings for what was to come, he decided on the tried and true Civil Patrol method: 'shock and awe' (usually followed by 'shit'). He mentally checked the distance in his head. It would require a quick reverse power stroke right after a short drop, a hover, then a touchdown and dash for the door. Without cracking the pavement. Tricky tricky tricky, he mused. Winds whipping around this tall of a building were not helping matters. Taking one last deep breath, he lept over the ledge...and instantly knew he'd miscalculated when he saw a group of candidates walking right up to the front doors directly below him.

He yelped, getting their attention. They scattered out just quick enough to barely allow him some room as he ungracefully fluttered down amongst them. Legs almost giving out and splayed haphazardly under him, he yanked his wings in as the larger humans almost stampeded a few feet before settling down. Immediately he heard the surge of reporters moving forward. To their credit, the candidates weren't daft either and quickly recovered from his surprise arrival. They rushed the door, all squeezing in while he jostled around trying not to get trampled. They did what they could to shield him, inadvertently or otherwise as they moved in with him as a group and slammed the doors shut. Uniformed officers moved in from either side and barred the doors both inside and out, waving their hands to tell the reporters the building was not open to the public at this time. Once he was able to pull himself out of the group and check his wings for any damage, his ears started picking up random comments.

"What the fuck was that all about?"

"They're here for the pony that DFA'd us."

"DFA'd?"

"Death From Above. It's a Battletech term."

"Wow, where did you get your education? It was from the US Airborne troops during World War Two-"

"Try the Spanish Civil War. Germans supporting one side dropped behind enemy lines and caused havoc..."

"Oh thank god someone actually reads a book in this lot. I thought I'd get stuck with a bunch of ex-military yahoos."

"Oh piss off! Military gives you freedom-"

"Hey, did we earn a lifesaving bar for getting him...uh, her..in here what the fuck is it anyway?"

"It's a pegasus, genius. Go back to Battletach-"

"It's BattleTECH, dingus..."

At least they weren't complaining about him anymore, although a few of the applicants not quite interested in the history debate were eyeing Civil with less than amused expressions. Once he was able to move away from the group, he looked around the lobby and saw the sign with an arrow and the words 'Police Candidates Apply Here'. The arrow was pointing to the stairs. An officer was standing near the sign in case applicants wandered anywhere other than the stairs. The man smirked slightly. "Media can be a bitch. If you make it, get used to them, at least until they get bored with you."

Civil shrugged and muttered, "I've never liked the media. They're not in it to help you out, that's for sure."

The officer nodded and replied, "Then you've already got that lesson down. Just remember, they are always watching, even when you are not." He glanced up, "They're assembling upstairs, in case you're wondering." Civil grunted, glancing back at the sign to make a point that he'd already seen it. As he made his way over to the steps, he passed a very old vintage police car that looked almost like a Model-T. He didn't have time to read the placard before the other applicants were following, so he hustled up the steps. Looking up, he finally noticed the Bell helicopter suspended over the entire lobby. In a way it looked smaller up close than they did from far away. Luckily he hadn't run into any of these in the sky. Those blades looked menacing.

Once on the second floor there was another lobby, with more signs and arrows pointing to the media room. Thank Celestia there was no media in here. There were some more displays with various police related items. In essence it was a small museum. A very small one, which he took in at a glance and considered it fully visited. He walked over to a table where people were signing in. Once it was his turn he stepped up and looked down. Several lists were arrayed in alphabetical order. He almost started looking up his old name before he remembered the application was under Patrol, which is where he found his full name. He grabbed a pen from the nearby box with his wing, scribbled his initials on the line and headed into the media room.

He was slowly becoming aware of a quiet bubble projected around himself wherever he walked, unlike the tsunamic noise that was the press once they had spotted him. As both candidates and officers noticed he was there, the chatting stopped. Once he had found an open spot at one of the tables, the chatter started up again, though it was muted. He supposed he was going to have to get used to that as well. After all, he was slated to be the first police pony for any major city. His eye twitched. Historical or not, they could at least be less obvious in their staring. He situated himself in the seat and shrugged off his saddlebags. A standard civil service exam packet sat before him and for every other applicant or empty seat. He grinned to himself. Civil Service, the job as well as the family member. He remembered back when his human mother had mistakenly brought her up in offering suggestions for work. While his pony side wouldn't have thought anything of his Equestrian heritage, his human side did see the coincidences in names. Perhaps there were no coincidences, he pondered sagely. That was kind of how the harmony of magic was supposed to work.

A woman in civilian attire took to the podium. She wore a white blouse with a gray business skirt. "We will be starting soon. Before you is your test packet, along with a questionnaire. Once you are done with both, please bring them up to the table over there and wait in the lobby just outside these doors. Try to keep it down until all the testers have completed the exam. After the final tester has turned in his work, we will tally the scores and post them outside by the last four of your social. Those that pass can return at 1 o'clock to continue with their application process. Those that do not pass, you can reapply in six months. Please place all bags and nonessential items under the table.

He nudged his bags forward and waited. They mostly contained a few bottles of water, snacks, documents the department had requested he print out at home and some paper towels, in case he found a decent place to eat lunch. He glanced around the room, catching a few others watching him. Some looked away, but most seemed cordial. A lot of the people were young, though. While the criteria to even be considered for this position consisted of either college or military experience, he doubted he could count more than two or three that did not have a nervous look about them. To those few, this was simply one more task to perform to get to the next task. One or two of them gave him a nod, to which he nodded back.

"Everyone is ready?" She paused to see if there were any objections. When none were heard, "Begin."

The test wasn't quite so tough as he thought it would be. When he had first emailed his application, he was directed to take the practice test that was posted online. It was mostly reading and grammar comprehension, with basic math. Some of it was a little tricky, but for the most part it wasn't too bad. This thing was three hours long, which was painful in and of itself. Once he answered the final question he pushed the packet aside and centered the questionnaire in front of him, reading the first question.

-> Why do you want to be a police officer?

He thought for a while. His original reasons for joining the Guard were juvenile...and yet, the core of his beliefs still remained. He wrote: To be in the right place at the right time. Too few ponies, and people, ever are.

-> Do you get along with your fellow coworkers?

He snorted. That was a loaded question. His eyes scanned down the questionnaire. All of these questions were loaded. One of the last ones caught his attention and he sighed, not looking forward to deal with that one. The rest of the questions he answered with the generic 'yes I am a good pony' answer derivative.

Eventually he got to the one he was dreading.

-> What tickets, misdemeanors, or felonies have you committed or think you might have committed. These questions and answers will be reviewed in a polygraph exam so being truthful will help with your application process.

Yeah, right. He sighed, thinking. Gritting his teeth he wrote: I shoplifted several times when I was a teenager. I got one seatbelt ticket and one speeding ticket while in high school. My Airforce flight crew purchased a prostitute to give me a hand job while we were deployed on a training mission in Canada.

He squeezed his eyes shut. That last one was a secret he had told nobody, human nor pony, since he had reverted to pony form and had gone back to Equestria. While it was not the worst thing he felt he had done, it was certainly the one he was most shameful about. For a short time in the Air Force, he had even earned the name Jerkin Jason. For reason. The other things he had done or might have done...he sighed. He was going to have to brave the polygraph and hope they didn't dig too deep.

Everyone was allowed a break for lunch, which he was grateful for. He was famished. He had spied a barbecue place down the street on the way in but was leery to go downstairs. After confirming that he'd received a passing score for his exam, he was leaning against the wall, debating what he wanted to do for the next hour. One of the female officials that had helped administer the exam came over and asked, "Are you not going to get something to eat? Food in your belly is better than nothing, given the fitness test later today." She seemed more fascinated to be talking to a living breathing flying equine than trying to be of help, but he'd take it nonetheless. He couldn't keep downing every olive branch thrown his direction.

He shrugged. "I don't feel like dealing with all those cameras down there."

She smiled and nodded at a side door leading to the parking deck. A few of the floors connected to the multi-level structure by short bridges. "You can go out that way. I'm sure someone will buzz you back in. We all know you are an applicant, so nobody will tackle you." She chuckled lightly, "At least, not for breaking the law. Unless being too cute is breaking the law." He grumbled. Girls. Granted this was what he originally wanted to do in the first place. Use the door, not get taclked. sickos :P

Still, not wanting to look a gift human in the mouth, he would take it. He nodded his thanks and made his way outside, then winged his way down to the diner. Glazed chicken and fries sounded great right about now. He was able to make it back in time for the rest of the grading process. All the applicants were directed to go out the same door he just came through, cross the sky bridge and set up for the fitness test on the top floor of the parking garage. They were already on the top garage floor so they didn't have to go very far.

An instructor wearing a red collared t-shirt and ballcap stood in front of them. He pointed to the white strip of tape on the pavement. "You will all line up here. When I yell bang, begin the run." He paused, hearing a number of individuals snickering. Civil couldn't help but chuckle as well. The man smiled grimly, "That's funny, right. Yeah, we used to use a good ol' fashion starting pistol until this building got shot up by some wacko in an armored van he bought on ebay. Since then, people working here at the HQ get a little jumpy when they hear gunshots."

The chuckling became a sea of silence. The man's mouth twitched before he resumed speaking, "Starting to sink in, what you signed up for? We run to the fight when others run away. Never forget that. This is the mile and a half course, five and a third times around the cones of the top deck. Yell the number of laps completed when you pass this starting line. On the fifth pass, you will finish on up ahead where we will be yelling out your final times. Remember your time and inform the scorekeeper of your result. We will try to keep track of it, but there are more of you than us, so you'll have to do your part. Now get ready to run to the fight, applicants. Line up." He waited until they were ready. "Three two one.....bang!"

Civil allowed the mob of people to string out ahead of him. He never liked jockeying for position back during school when he had PE. College too, during ROTC training. Except, now, he was sliding past all of them as he casually cantered on by. He knew he could be galloping if he wanted, and he was already outpacing them. Being the first time he ever measured running speed of the pony form to humans, he was startled with his progress. Soon he was ahead of the group. At one point he was out by himself when he finished the first lap, well ahead of everyone by a good half lap. He decided to finish the race at a nice leisurely pace, suspicious of the fact that if he blew the time out of the water they would simply change the minimums to a pony standard that would be a lot tougher to maintain.

As he coasted in to the finish line and got his time, the instructor commented, "Hm, you're pretty fast, by human standards. Don't be surprised if they change the test minimums in the future regarding you ponies." Civil shook out his wings to cool himself down and nodded, chagrin seeping in.

"I was just thinking that, sir. Though that would have to include a lot more of us ponies applying, right?" The man eyed the pegasus.

"We'll see." Civil wasn't quite sure if that was a hit against his race, or something else. In all fairness, he figured he was the pilot program for pony integration into human society with regard to certain roles in that society, so there had to be quite a number of people unsure of how this was going to progress, himself included.

He had a very nice resting phase before everyone else was finished. They were directed to form two lines facing each other. "Next is the pushups. You will start in the forward leaning rest position." As his line moved, "Not you, winged wonder." Civil paused as he flexed his legs a little. "Wingups for you." His wings drooped. The man grinned. "Yeah, we did our research. If you want to bitch at someone, try the 75th Rangers, from what I hear. We'll be getting more streamlined guidance on pony fitness down the road. Also, if your application does gets accepted, you'll be wearing those special short shorts they requisition to their soldiers, too. None of that cultural naked nonsense in the academy. Don't need to scare the ladies, and some of the guys, with that alien anatomy you got goin on down there." Civil's tail whipped down close to cover said anatomy. The man raised his voice, "That goes for the rest of you. We do not discriminate against aliens, ponies, or descendants of primates, like the rest of you knuckleheads. You will wear compression shorts anytime we have DT instruction or any other physical evolution. No boxers, no tighty whities, and no commando style forays into the jungles of your partner's face. The junk stays hidden. Women, you're no exception. Keep it covered." All eyes went everywhere except in a direction that would involve inspection of said junks.

The fitness test progressed as could be expected. The 100 yard dash was simple enough. Situps, meh. Standing long jump had a few hiccups on his part. His first attempt got the instructor griping at him about how hovering indefinitely at the other end of the jump zone was not, in fact, a completion of the exercise. A threat to tie his wings to his barrel gave him the motivation to do it properly, in the end.

Once all the scores were recorded, they were given instructions to return bright and early the next morning in business attire. The day was to be filled with interviews with senior officers, investigators, and a polygraph expert. He was thankful he'd gone shopping for a decent pony suit while visiting Hot Pink the day prior. The tie was going to be a challenge. Nothing could ever be simple, he mused to himself while he flew back home. Of course, he could always wear a clipon tie-

***

"No you will not!"

"Yes! I! WILL!"

"You step one hoof out that door and you will never be allowed back in again!"

"You wouldn't!"

"Try me, princess."

This was the tirade of feminine screaming he encountered as soon as he opened the front door of his home. He had arrived with notions of relaxing after the long and tiresome day he just experienced. It was not to be, apparently. "Must be voice strengthening day...." Civil muttered to himself as he lightly stepped down the hallway to the kitchen.

Liberty bolted out of said kitchen, nearly running into him. She took one look at him and ran up the stairs. The top landing of the staircase turned 90 degrees to the left, which she completely missed...and plowed into the wall, leaving a beautiful impression of a pegasus side profile outlined in the drywall, wings included. On a sidenote, the neighbor across the street had a Mobil gas station vintage sign made out of metal. It was circular with a 10' diameter and a nicely rendered side profile of a pegasus on it. The thing was hanging on the fence for some reason, a remnant of a bygone era. It's the odd things that pop into your head now and again, ya know?

Completely unfazed, Liberty shook it off, spun around to glare down at them and shouted, "I HATE you! I HATE Civil, I HATE this pony shit and I HATE THIS HOUSE!!!" Then she disappeared down the upstairs hallway. His ears tracked her until she made it to her room and-

BANG<

"Yep, that would be the bedroom door," he mused to himself. As a human juvenile, she always had a penchant for placing door slams at the end of her tirades. Didn't matter what house or body they were in, the routine was apparently the same, still. There was that one time she put her foot through the wall, though, after a series of rapid kicks and screaming when she wasn't getting her way. Age 10, maybe? The ensuing pause of silence had caused his parents to check in on her, only to find she had a plastic toy storage box propped up against the wall and a story about how she had 'fallen' and dropped the box into the wall. The foot shaped hole in that wall didn't hold up in parent court, which led to heavier fines and punishment. Now that was an emotional episode in their family's history books.

This...mmm, probably a midlevel emotional meltdown, all things told.

He frowned, hoping there wouldn't be a repeat of the foot in the wall incident. His ears swiveled while he extended his jaw to open up his ear canals to augment his senses. Mule kicks from a frustrated filly would do far worse damage than a 10 year old's footsies...but after several seconds of silence, he figured it would have happened by now. Shaking out his mane to relieve the tension built up in his muscles, he walked into the kitchen.

Karen brushed past him going the other direction. She sighed in frustration and leaned out, eyeing the upstairs shadowy hallway to see if Liberty had snuck back quietly. She knew her daughter did most of this stuff for attention and it wouldn't have surprised her if the girl was checking to see how concerned her mother was. Girl/mare. Whatever. She knew underneath all that female raw emotion there was a very calculating brain on that girl's shoulders. Karen was a girl once, too, but never this bad. Honest. She never had tantrums like this. You'll get no dinner if you disagree with Karen.

If Civil could read minds he would have pointed out the grease fire kitchen incident several years ago, the father fighting the alligator over a catfish incident, the little glass figurine incident, the-

Hm...he wanted dinner.

Civil stepped aside, not wanting to be in the crossfire, but wanting dinner. And thankfully he kept his mouth shut. Satisfied this particular episode was over, Karen walked back, patting him on the head as she went by. She looked around, first at the dishwasher, then the sink, then the pantry, and finally her potted plants that were arrayed around the sink and up on the cabinets. Seeing that there really was nothing for her attend to, she moved over to the table and sat down, resting her chin on one hand as the other picked up her cell phone and started scanning for emails. He knew she didn't like using cell phones and only had one out of necessity, mostly to show off pictures to friends at work. That she would voluntarily go to the phone now to pass the time, that was a bad sign.

Civil took his usual seat at the end of the table near the backyard door and pressed his hooves together. She didn't look up. He ventured delicately, "I guess I missed the big furor."

She didn't react for several seconds, just tapping away on her phone. He was about to move out of the chair when she blinked and chuckled, still looking down. "Funny, and appropriate. I have always liked that word, furor. Apt for the occasion." She had a major in linguistics. Words were a thing.

He smirked slightly and waved a hoof at the phone. "You know, they have an 'Apt' for that."

This time she looked up, her mouth quirking in noted cringe. "Cute." She looked back down.

Another minute passed.

"Can I ask what this was all about? Everypony...everyone seemed fine this morning. What could have possibly happened in half a day?"

Karen paused her tapping and placed the phone down. She turned her head and gazed at him. "What is 'initiation' and why does it involve coloring body parts?"

Civil shut his eyes and groaned softly. He opened them and asked, "What did she say?"

Sitting up, his human mother rolled her shoulders and neck, tendons popping. She so needed a massage. "Well, your sister-slash-mother up there thinks she can just go out by herself to the nearest salon and dye her wings and hair whatever color she wants. She even wants to color her, uh-" She held up one arm and tapped the area just behind her wrist. "These hairs...."

"Fetlocks?" Whew, thank BEJESUS it wasn't-

"Yes, fetlocks. She wants to color all of that, permanently." He already knew the argument. Tattoos had come up once, briefly, during their human childhood, and the result had been the same. Arguing, door slamming, and eventual acceptance that tats did not belong on juvenile skin. At the time, it had blown over after the one time event. He wasn't about to mention his sister most assuredly got one or more tats the minute her feet hit college campus. He knew of the butterfly on her lower back...which was probably no longer there, he thought. Hm.

Now it was deja vu all over again; the yelling, the door slams, mother and daughter locked in a battle of wills. Father and son scrambling for cover. He glanced away. Was saying 'deja vu all over again' like saying 'deja vu deja vu...?' It was such a weird word anyway. Must be Prench- "I absolutely WILL NOT allow that little girl to ruin her body. I don't care how old her mind is, you get one body in this life." Well, minus the ponies getting a few bodies. She clamped her mouth shut. She had also said 'girl'. He raised an eyebrow, obviously aware of her mistakes. She waved her hand and said darkly, "You know what I mean. All of it."

Of course he did. And while he could argue Liberty was mature mentally, Karen also knew about young pony minds still being in their developmental stage, something the family had gleaned from the internet regarding adult humans turning into young foals. Knowledge helped ease certain things, but in this, it only made things more frustrating. Karen was adamant about the developmental part, and very protective. He tried a different tack. "Was the whole kicking her out of the house bit really necessary?"

She clicked her teeth and returned to her phone, replying tersely, "She frustrates me Jason. She always has." His human name. Yeah, she was pissed.

Glancing around, he noticed something. Or, a lack of something, for that matter. "Um, where's dad?"

"Walking. Probably smoking. He chose not to deal with this and left it to me. Again."

Slowly, Civil pushed back from the table and slipped out of the chair. For once, his retreat from the dinner table did not involve a subject matter completely centered around him. She began to turn around but he raised a hoof, forestalling her. "Initiation, it's like a coming of age for fliers. It was a thing up in Cloudsdale mostly, before the curse. It involves partying, getting tats, going to raves and very heavy techno concerts. It's also visits to the local salon to color your feathers, mane and tail. Mm...it can also involve other...things...but," he added quickly as he saw her face darken, "...there's no Cloudsdale here and I didn't see any of that going on in Frontier yesterday. Sooooo," he ducked his head slightly while rustling his wings, "I think she is safe from influences this side of the portal. Another pony mentioned initiation during our lunch yesterday. That's where she got it if you want to know. Was she on the computer today?"

His mother nodded. "All morning. She only came down a little while ago excited about all these things she wanted to do. And turning down admirers like its a badge of honor." She practically growled out that last part, and he almost heard the word 'hussy' under her breath.

He blinked, confused..."What do you mean, admirers?"

All she did was wave her hand, making a disgusted sound. "Ask her. None of my business, remember? This is your ADULT sister we are talking about."

He sighed, putting that aside for the moment. After getting his thoughts straight, he said slowly, "Okay, mom, I'm going to need you to have an open mind about this." She raised her brows but said nothing. That was a hoof in the doorway, he supposed. "More than the other ponies, we pegasi can be a bit wild when it comes to life." He noticed her rolling her eyes. Given his sister's history, that wasn't saying very much. He glanced up as though he could see the little filly upstairs.

"Mom..." He glanced at Karen and smiled weakly, "um, that mom..." he gestured with his wing upwards, "When I was younger, I think she was too physically weak to ever truly introduce me to it, but I imagine we would have done it if she weren't sick back then." His eyes looked around in thought. Sitting back on his haunches, he said in a low voice, "I don't remember her having a colored mane or feathers. Possibly they faded out by the time I was born. If she has always been this way...she may well have gone through it, and I just missed it, given her condition."

As much as Karen wanted to stay mad, the sheer heartbreaking nature of Liberty's former life did soften the situation somewhat. She still looked dubiously at him. He raised his forehooves in front of him offering a possible explanation. "I'm thinking she read all sorts of stuff while online and wants to fully embrace the pegasus experience? I can go talk to her, dispel most of the crap she saw. Would it be so bad if she colored some of her fur or feathers? Some highlights in her mane or tail? It's a cultural thing, and with all those ESL trips to different countries with your students, you always were big on that kind of stuff."

While Karen's face remained clouded with negativity, she knew there would have to be a compromise eventually. She nodded once, then raised a finger, "One condition. You tell me everything you know about it, and I mean EVERYTHING...and I'll consider it. I want to be there, too, for the coloring part. I know, two conditions. However, if those conditions are not met, little Missy up there is on lockdown until she can control herself. Mature or not, her physical brain is still developing, right?"

He nodded grudgingly. That was part of the standard reading when one did a search on pony issues online. She turned back to her phone. His sharp eyes spied her typing in 'initiation' and he turned away, heading to the stairs. If he didn't get out of their, she'd be peppering him with more questions, some he was not about to answer by himself. First he had to handle ol' Wyld Style upstairs, sans Lego Movie plot. That involved a certain level of bluntness only he could provide.

Once upstairs, he knocked on the door with his hoof.

"Go Away!" It was muffled.

He tried the lever doorknob (thankyou human type mom for installing them) and found the door to be blocked. Sort of. Pushing on it gave way to several stuffed animals falling down from a major pile on the other side of the door. He glanced around past that oddity and spotted the lump under the comforter on the bed. Ah. Squeezing through and gently pushing the door closed, he grinned and burrowed into the pile of animals. Any adult would spot him easy, but he wasn't dealing with an adult right now. He waited.

"I can hear you breathing, idiot."

He held is breath. Damn.

"I can hear you holding your breath. Are you retarded?"

Civil poked his muzzle out just enough to say, "That's not a very nice thing to say." He pulled back into the pile. He could hear the bedding shift and then a cute little sigh of exasperation.

"You are such a dork. You're not hitting me on the head this time." Unbeknownst to him, her eyes were scanning the pile, trying to figure out where his center of mass was. She shifted her rear hooves like a cat readying to pounce, inching back, inching back, then she jumped forward, front hooves held out like spears. Luckily for Civil, he was on the side of the pile, incase something like this was going to happen. Calmly he pulled out of the pile, shaking some beanie babies out from under his wings and sat back on his haunches, waiting.

After a few animals shifted around, she poked her head out, spotted him and glared. "Cheater."

"At least I got you to quit moping. You're too cute for that." She tried to glare harder, but looked away, failing as her cheeks colored.

"Whatever. Anyway, I don't feel like talking right now."

"So I heard. I'm sure the whole neighborhood heard." She met his gaze, quirking a smile at him. He shrugged, "Yah I know, neeeighborhood. Herd. Spbpt."

"Oh the puns just 'fly' out of you." He snorted and she giggled.

"Um...admirers?" That wiped the smile off her face.

Angrily whipping a wing to the side, Liberty replied heatedly, "Oh please, she acts like I'm a slut or something. I just said that to get to her. And anyway, that is none of your business, or hers! In fact, none of what I do-"

He placed a hoof on her muzzle, gently to let her know it wasn't malicious. She was more surprised than incensed by it, so he pressed the advantage. "I get it, you are a grown woman, filly body and all. She is only concerned about your mental development, which you know is a thing, so quit being so defensive about it." She pushed his hoof away from her face but remained silent. "I already spoke to her and she wants to be part of your initiation, should we go down that road." That made Liberty even more surprised and she looked away in contemplation.

"Yeah, I don't see a problem with that, but I choose the colors, not her."

He shrugged, "No complaints."

"And if I do happen to find a pony on down that road, are you busting my chops over it?" Her eyes narrowed at him, ready for a fight.

He shook his head, "Your business, like you said. As far as physical stuff or mental development, this is new territory for everybody involved. Just do me a favor...when you get around to having a coltfriend, can you check with me first? Chances are I might know whether or not he's a good pony."

"Uh, NO?!"

"What do you mean no??"

"For one, that's MY business, again. And two, EW! I'm a filly, Jason! ..perv.."

He frowned, "I am not a perv! I figured that...you know...adult mind working in a young pony's brain...you asked about finding a pony down the road!"

"Oh, so because I used to be an adult that I would just go around having foal sex everywhere. And down the road? I'm talking about friends, Civil. We already sat down and did the online search. I am well aware my brain is 'still developing'. Sheesh, thought I'd just go hog wild for some reason?" The corners of her mouth twitched. Trying to figure out how this conversation got turned around on him, a certain song played in the back of his head, cuz he just got rickrolled.

"Knowing you and your 'I am an adult' attitude? Yeah, I did."

"Wow, so much trust."

"Renee, you do things now and again that shakes everybody's trust, so, YEAH, going with that."

"...........i guess i see your point," she said quietly. Civil snorted and started repeating the current date over and over again. She wrinkled her nose. "What are you doing?"

"Memorizing today's date. I won an argument with you."

"Dork. In any case, I may not even find a colt. Could be a guy."

"Like, a human guy?" She gave him a duh look. He scrunched up his face. "That seems weird, ya know?"

"No, I don't know. What's weird about it? You and I were both humans once, so it's not like it's a new concept to be with one. And besides, you never know when love strikes. That certain special someone comes along....and wham, trading phone numbers, trading fond memories, trading spit-"

"Ugh, I'm not getting into this with my mom/sister/filly-"

"Not like there's a whole load of material on the internet-"

"NO!@!...#$$##^&*%....no!" Squinting his eyes shut, he gritted his teeth. He started pushing plushies out of the way so he could swing the door open, "Just...take your time with it, okay? Lord knows we've had ample experiences to get a baseline for what is a good relationship in our past lives-" He paused as he saw her barely containing laughter. "What are you laughing at?"

When she could finally control herself, she squeaked out, "You. Making baselines for relationships. Now when exactly was this? And don't go lying about any pony adventures just because I wasn't there!"

He struggled to say something, but in those scant few seconds, it was too late. She already knew. "This is not about me." She burst out laughing. Despite her making fun of his weak dating game, he did console himself with the fact that she was in a better mood now. He twisted his neck a few times and turned to the door. "Anyway, I'm not a human anymore, and I've already got somepony in my life." As he walked out into the hallway and turned, he caught her rolling her eyes and sticking out her tongue.

She called after him, "Until you seal the deal, it ain't real. Hey, take it from me, Miss Liberty. If the love is free, it's meant to be!" He flattened his ears as much as possible to block her out and stalked down the hallway. Before he could fully get away, she quipped, "Besides, I already had my first online encounter, but it shut down pretty quick, so no worries."

He felt a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. So it wasn't just random hypotheticals between both his moms about online chatting. He had been hoping otherwise. Poking his head back into the room, he asked quietly, "What first online encounter...?"

A few minutes later, and much convincing on his part, they were in front of the computer screen. It was left on, presumably from earlier when she had run down to confront their mother over what she'd found online and when she could start her own initiation. Ugh, he had to mediate that bullshit between those two, later. Today was just piling on the difficulty levels. After minimizing several browsers, mostly to do with all things pegasus related, a single small window with a black background remained centered on the screen. The command prompt window, with the cursor slowly blinking. Normally he would have figured she accidentally hit a combination of buttons to bring it up, but this version had a few lines that concerned him. Namely....

C:\Users\Civil>

IPv4 isolated, P2P connection started.

DO YOU KNOW WHAT A CYPHER IS OR HOW TO MAKE A SPLASH?

C:\Users\Civil>no. should i?

Connection terminated.

Civil stared at the screen while standing behind the chair, front hooves on its back while he looked over it. Liberty peeked up at him from below. "See? I didn't say anything inappropriate."

"Libs, this isn't a chat room."

"So? What's the difference?"

He closed his eyes shut, taking a breath. "It's a command prompt...a control window for doing basic commands. Manual operations and scripts...nevermind." Opening his eyes, he asked, "Did you click on anything to bring this up?"

She shrugged. "Nope. I was surfing the web and all of a sudden it popped up in the middle of my fun asking that weird question. I answered and then nothing. Guess I'm so popular I have fans I don't even know about. Some visitors to the statue back home, maybe?" She beamed, getting a kick out of the ego boost.

He slowly shook his head, reading the line over and over. At length, he muttered, "God dammit, hate this hacker crap." At least he wasn't going to get eaten by a velociraptor.

...maybe.

***

It was a somber dinner some time later downstairs in the kitchen/dining room. The meal for the evening was an appetizer of steamed artichokes stuffed with provolone cheese and a topping of Italian bread crumbs, followed with a honey glazed and sesame seed sprinkled salmon. Not generally his favorite dishes if one were to ask him, but Civil didn't mind. They were still very good. In fact, with his new senses of smell and taste, they seemed even more explosive with flavor.

So explosive, he was eating the artichoke in a new way. Whole.

His human mother and father stared at him and he swallowed a few more artichoke leaves. It wasn't until after he drank some water that he noticed their looks. "What?"

Karen was struck between mild shock and nostalgic amusement. She cleared her throat and said, "The last time I saw someone down leaves like that, it was your father's first dinner with my family in New York." Her eyes slid over to him. For his part, Dan huffed and stuck a chunk of fish into his mouth, not bothering to close his lips when he chewed. His lack of amusement clearly showed.

"You make it sound as though I took to it with a knife and fork like a steak."

"You DID take to it with a knife and fork! You choked a few times too, if I remember."

"We'll agree to disagree."

She rolled her eyes and looked back to Civil. He shrugged. "Stringy things like plant matter don't bother me as much now as they would in a human body. It's hard to describe, but chewing on the leaves tastes better and is more filling than just scraping the meat off them." Liberty gave him an odd look, popped a leaf into her mouth and chewed. Her eyes lit up and she renewed her feeding with gusto. He snorted softly.

"So...how was the testing today? I wanted to ask earlier....but, you know..." Yeah, she was having her existential crisis with her extraterrestrial daughter, he finished in his head. Experience taught him not to speak such things out loud.

And with the quick review of the events in his head, including the questionnaire, he started to lose his appetite. Damn. He was only halfway through his fish, too.

Putting his fork down (more like pulling it out of his velcro wristband), he responded in a circumspect manner, "Well...there was a multiple choice exam, which I think I passed, a basic math exam I know I passed, a questionnaire that asked about past crimes I've done and why we want to be police, that kind of stuff, and the physical exam, which I put everypony in the dust. Except the wingups. I absolutely hated those, even the human kind of pushups which I was never good at, anyway."

She was nodding the entire time until he mentioned past crimes. To that, she shook her head slightly. Once he was done, she said, "Past crimes? Oh please, Civil. Of anybody, you are the last one I would expect to commit any crimes."

He remained silent and slowly picked at his food. Liberty stopped chewing altogether and stared at him. This was far more interesting than any wad of food still lodged in her mouth. His two human parents regarded him quite differently. His father was mildly curious but not at all surprised. That any male could get through childhood without committing at least some kind of law breaking was suspicious in and of itself, no matter how goody two shoes they might be. His mother, on the other hand, did not want to believe that her by-the-book son had done anything bad. Certainly she would have seen or heard about it. Good mothers knew everything their children did, naturally.

"Honey...what crime could you have done? You've never been in trouble with the police."

He couldn't bring himself to lift his eyes, knowing the abject disapproval they would soon be greeted with. "I may have shoplifted when I was a kid. Human kid....."

"What could you possibly have needed that we couldn't give you. Candy? Gum?"

"Mm...some video games," he mumbled out. Liberty snickered. Granted, she had snuck some nail polish a time or two, but this wasn't about her, now was it?

Karen made a disgusted sound with her tongue against the back of her teeth. Children of disapproving mothers, you know that sound. "Those damn games. The console ones?"

"Some were computer-"

"Jason!"

He flinched, wings flaring out slightly in defense. He finally met her baleful glare. "Mom, I was a teenager. I only did it a few times. I felt horrible afterwards and I didn't enjoy them at all because they were stolen. I learned my lesson without getting caught. Would you have wanted me to get caught?"

She wiped her mouth with a napkin and slapped it against the table. "I would have wanted you to not do it at all! I am extremely disappointed in you. Do we not provide enough for you? Clothes, food, yes CANDY and GAMES when we felt you have earned them?" She looked to the side, then glanced back at him, "When did you do all this?"

"It was over a decade ago! I don't do that anymore!"

She shook her head again squeezing her eyes shut. "And you wrote this down for them to see? Why would you do such a thing?"

"I had to! They are going to polygraph me tomorrow."

Looking to her husband for support, he raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "It is in the past, and like he said, he learned his lesson. At least we didn't have to go to court or anything."

It wasn't the greatest of resolutions, she thought to herself, yet it not being on his record might be a good thing. "Well at least that is the only thing...." She caught him avoiding her gaze and her mouth dropped open. "Dear God what else?!"

He looked between his two mothers. How had it come to this? How....

Shaking himself, he accepted that this was when those who loved him would change how they saw him for all time. "When I started my navigation training at Tinker, we went on a training exercise up to Canada. There was a bar...and the crew decided to get drinks there. While we were there we noticed it was more like a...strip bar."

The clink of a fork being laid down onto a plate pulled Civil's attention to his father, who was now sitting up. "Don't mind me, go on, son. Strip bar?" He completely ignored the look his wife gave him.

Civil avoided everybody's face at this point and stared at the plate in front of him. "Yeah, a strip bar. Sort of. I was with another nav student, two flight engineers and three pilots. They paid one of the girls to take me to the back area and...do stuff."

"What stuff?" Liberty asked.

"I don't care to hear this," his human mother said, packing up her utensils and napkin into her plate. Clearly she was done for tonight.

"I care to hear it," Liberty responded.

"Son, tell me you used protection," his father said.

Civil threw his hooves up in protest, "I didn't need to, it wasn't that kind of 'stuff'! All she did was try to give me a handjob-" A crash in the sink signaled Karen's continued need to not hear it while Liberty held up a hoof.

"Woh woh, wait! What do you mean TRY to? She did or she didn't, oh misguided son of mine!" Liberty exclaimed. Dan reached over and pushed her hoof down. Clearly he needed to take control of this, given how he was going to hear about it all night long and not get any meaningful sleep alongside a now angry wife.

"I think that'll do-" Dan tried.

"It wasn't even the real thing. She was doing such a terrible job I finished it myself-"

Liberty lost it and fell out of her chair, cackling the entire way down until she made a squeaking sound when she hit, then continued cackling.

Dan merely frowned as he sat back thinking. He exhaled a breath he did not know he was holding. He saw Karen leave the kitchen out of the corner of his eye. Good, he could ask some manly questions now. "Ooookay. So, your flight crew-"

"I can't believe you would jeopardize your application process with that horrible story. WHAT WERE YOU THINKING JASON!?!?" The yell drifting in from the bedroom through the living room to the kitchen and dining area was more sorrowful than angry.

Dan patiently waited for more. When more did not manifest itself, "-your flight crew paid for a sex act...that you ended up completing yourself? Did they get their money back?"

The young pegasus on the floor started banging her hoof on the tiles, "Dad! Stop it! You're killing me! I'm dying down here!" Karen continued making loud noises in the house by doing the whole 'transfer clothes from the washer to the dryer and slam the doors' routine. Dan shrugged as if honest curiosity was still a normal thing around here.

Civil grumbled as he pushed back from the table, "Actually, they were mad. They thought it was a waste of money. I'm going to go apologize to mom."

"No, son."

He stopped before he was halfway out of the chair. Despite the filly's aftershocks of giggles and laughs, Dan's tone had dipped into the serious zone now. "Leave her be. Right now she's more upset because she had such high hopes for you in this police thing. She knows you are not suited for the corporate world, and deep down she knows you are a good boy." He took a deep breath and let it out noisily. "But oooh boy, do you come up with some doozies now and again."

The stallion quietly took his plate to the sink, rinsed it off in the garbage disposal, set the items in the dish washer as he was always taught to do and slunk his way up the stairs to get to bed early. He had a long day ahead of him. If he was to deal with these interviews coming up, most likely about who he was and his slightly colorful history, he needed to have all the energy he could garner. At some point Liberty pranced by his room, briefly glanced at him and stumbled to the floor, laughing uncontrollably. He turned over and buried himself under the overly hot comforter.

***

Heart pounding, breathing heavy. Bright lights flashing around a corner, blinding. Jumping back into the shadows, the very same ones that were casting out toward him, reaching, threatening...it was not the safest place to be, but it was safer. A loud screeching cry and a roar from the metal beast rumbling by was enough to make that decision moot. Civil's eyes were dilated for maximum light and movement detection. Despite wars, skirmishes and perseverance in any of his past lifetimes, it was instinct now that kept him alive. He had been living on instinct for a while, from the grueling castaway experience at sea to the eastern coast centers of population he now found himself in.

A dark figure stood over another in the alley. He ran down the corridor, preparing for the jump he knew he needed to do. The figure raised a brick over his head, intending to bash someone on the ground with it. Civil jumped up, striking the man with his hooves. The man fell. Civil grabbed the brick. The figure that was already on the ground was his mother, crawling away. Civil turned to the figure he had knocked down. It was his father, Civil Justice. Why was he dreaming this. Did he really think his father killed his mother?

Civil was still holding the brick up high when he felt something gently prod his withers. He quickly glanced behind him, and relaxed. It was a foreleg, a pony foreleg. He followed it to the body it was attached to. He could see the telltale large eyes of a pony in the darkness, their glistening surfaces reflecting the street light. Her head was haloed by a miasma of evermoving stars and blackness. She stepped forward to reveal the princess of the night. That simple touch of her hoof seeped away the rage and fear coursing through his very being. It was the touch of a sympathetic creature, similar to him in form and empathy.

He flinched when he heard the crunch of the brick hit the pavement, the one he had been about to use as a weapon. Luna turned her head to look past him and at the scene frozen before them. She spoke softly, "You are not the first to revisit the dark days before the great battle. And I specifically remember this episode, Civil." Tilting her head, she regarded him for a minute. "I can't imagine what my sister is going through on the other side, consoling all those troubled minds once they wake up from their private hells. Although," she smirked in remembrance, "not having you in her mane has most likely resulted in one less troubled mind." Her eyes danced with mirth.

He frowned slightly, not really appreciating what she was implying. "I have no idea what you are talking about. And my mind is not troubled...I just remember bad things now and then." His ears laid low as his voice grew small. He hated being scared, more so in front of others. As if to make a point, he turned his back on the forms lying on the ground and walked out of the alley onto the street sidewalk. The princess followed him.

"Have you always been able to turn away so easily like that?" She was persistent.

He squeezed his eyes shut. It was now clear this was a dream. So many times in the past he had lived it, not knowing it for what it was. He turned toward her to get a better look in the dim glow of the street lamps. He said, "I remember when you came to me...to deal with this...stuff. I never got to thank you, or apologize for how weak I was." Before he could pull back, she had already pressed her forehead against his.

"There is no shame in anything I have seen from you, Civil Patrol." She pulled back slightly to stare him in the eye. "If I were to comment on anything, it would be for you to trust more in yourself. You were in our service before the curse and we trusted you then." His gaze flicked slightly back to the dark alley behind them. Her eyes narrowed and she added, "And I have seen nothing to shake that trust, Guard."

He scoffed slightly, "Celestia kicked me out of Equestria and the Guard." The alicorn's ears perked up at the slight against her sister, the absence of a title, yet the pegasus clenched his jaw and remained firm. Instead, a window popped up out of thin air and the scene in Equestria replayed itself, from the oddly confusing speech the other alicorn gave to the blinding flash when Civil was picked up and tossed through the portal. Luna snorted at that last part. Civil stared at it in awe. "Did you bring that forth, your highness?"

Tossing her mane, she snorted again. "Hardly, my dear Guard. You have dwelt on this for so long, your subconscious brought it to the forefront of your mind." She concentrated and the scene reversed rapidly and replayed again. She blinked. "Did you even listen to her words?" He shrugged, not sure what more he was supposed to get out of that speech. She reached up to her temple with a hoof and rubbed it, muttering, "Out of her mane and into mine....."

A light in the sky washed over the horizon. It consisted of multiple bands of color, a signature rainboom only a rare number of pegasi could achieve. Spiritually it was what anchored him, reminded him of who he was. Those were the more pleasant dreams, remembering that moment in the sky. When he was running scared mere weeks after his change back to a pony, Luna was his guide when he slept. She had literally brought him back from the abyss of his mind. And she was here again. He shuddered when he remembered those days before the beacon went out to all ponies pointing them the way home. He had nearly lost himself to pure animal instincts.

"You are not animal now, nor were you ever." She watched the colors fade in the sky. Being in his mind offered certain limited insights into his thinking. "I can sense this is a revisit of old fears and trauma, that you still question the decisions you have made." Her horn lit up and the night lessened, the coming dawn apparently ushered forth by her magic. "I might be biased toward the night, but even I know the sun has its merits."

He glanced at her, "I don't usually dream about this, unless I'm really stressed about something."

The alicorn tilted her head and walked over to a streetlamp where she sat down under its light. All the other lights along the street were turning off, except this one. The sun hadn't fully crested the horizon yet. She spoke solemnly, "I have some time left, and yours is the most pressing of my quandaries tonight. Tell me what ails you."

Knowing he did not get many of these opportunities, and in deference to a princess he still had some respect for, he sidled up next to her and sat. They both looked up, the last of the twilight stars still lingering in the heavens. In classic Speilberg fashion, a single shooting star danced across the sky. He smiled slightly, "Nice."

She nodded, murmuring, "I thought so." She waited. Privately, it was that moment just before dawn, when but a single breath could shatter the fragile nature of the night and thus usher in the loudness of the morning...that was her favorite time of the night. It was at its most delicate that the night was most precious to her. In a way, it was the pause before an earth-shattering revelation was to unfold, when the listener knew it was coming and the moment lensed into an infinite and simultaneously collapsing singularity of existence....

She breathed deeply, reveling in the moment. Exhilarating and calming at the same time. Her sister could only know the fury of the sun or the calmness of cake, never both at the same time. A shame really, so much was missed in life by only living in polarities. She glanced to the side, almost forgetting she was here for a reason. "Civil?"

He cleared his throat. He had been content to just sit and stare at the sky. Second to the ocean, he liked looking up at the stars. "Yes, mm. Tomorrow I go back to the headquarters, the Dallas headquarters, and they will put me on a polygraph." He went on to explain how he was a failure in the corporate world, and pretty much all of Equestria, which the princess elected not to pursue. That was for another time, she supposed. When he was done, she gave him a moment to see if he would add anything else. He merely sat there, staring off.

She raised an eyebrow. "You never had a problem with the truth before, much to Shining's frustration I might add. Why now?"

Grimacing he glanced away, responding, "It's not so much the truth as it is...things I've done in the past. Things I wish I could undo or at least not have to have dealt with." His gaze lingered to the shadows. The princess next to him thought for a few moments on this, digesting his words.

"An admission to doing something bad would disqualify you from this position of law enforcement, yes?" He nodded. She glanced up wistfully at the stars. "Well, you can choose to lie, which will most certainly trigger the sensors, since you suck at lying." She chuckled at his discomfort. "Or you can simply tell the truth, if asked. Many of us believe we have done worse than what history writes, for reasons that are more horrible than anypony else can ever understand. That is our own curse we each bear as we live our mixed lives. Civil, we must balance what we did before, what we were as humans, and who we must be now." He looked to her, recognizing the wisdom in her words.

She continued, "It really boils down to a few questions. Did you break the law? Did you do wrong? Those can be mutually exclusive at times. You may or may not feel right about something, but we must all stand by what we say and do. Those expressions of thought encapsulate who we are. I suspect a polygraph measures how comfortable you are with your past more than it judges what you did was right or wrong. It also measures whether you think lying in the moment is right or wrong." She sighed and looked up at the sky. "We've both lived in this world almost three decades. We should know by now what the laws are that govern the societies we live in. That at least determines the first question. As to the second, it is how you measure yourself to those laws that determines right or wrong. Only you can answer that." She placed her wing on his withers comfortingly. "The machine will merely hear your answer and reflect how you sit with it."

He nodded slowly. There wasn't much he could say to follow that up. Except... "Would you like to sit in my place, instead?"

She barked out a laugh, startling him. "Fat chance! We are quite comfortable lying to protect state secrets." Her visage darkened, eyes shadowing over, "For there are many we'd just as soon forget, Ourselves." After a time she noticed his demeanor had changed and she stretched her neck. "But that is a concern you need not burden yourself with." She got up and shook out her tail, though she knew it was only residual memory in this realm. It reformed on its own, luxuriant as ever. Habits were strong in the dream world.

He took that as a sign that this meeting was soon to end and stood as well. Lowering his head, "Thankyou, your highness. I don't usually get to talk to anypony about these things. Back home I got the feeling the other guards avoided me on purpose. It was never much of an issue since I was content to do my own thing. Here, back on Earth...I feel-" He felt her wing lift his muzzle.

"My dear little pony-" She hoof pumped off to the side, finally getting one over on her sister, "-from what my memories recall of your ventures, you got results, if not in the manner that most would find orthodox. You have no need to be shameful in front of me. I prefer action over circumspect nonsense that certain 'other' princesses would strive for. Continue being you." She stepped back, her body starting to fade. Their surroundings were beginning to blur as well. "Perhaps in the future once things have settled down, the Night Guard would see you differently than their daytime counterparts. We are always looking for ponies of action."

The light finally spilling over the horizon pried his eyes open in the real world. He was back in his bedroom, a single beam of light coming through the curtains. Glancing over at his phone he saw he was minutes from the alarm going off. He tended to wake up before the alarm, more out of a desire not to hear the jarring sound first thing in the morning than anything else. After fumbling with his phone to deactivate the alarm, he laid there for a while longer before pushing himself up fully. Stretching his wings, and hearing a few pops up and down his back, he muttered, "Guess it's time for action."

***

The guard hated Thursday nights. Fridays and Saturdays were worse, but those were known quantities. Thursday could be nothing, or a ton of ass pain, depending on how the winds went these days. Rowdy guests, constant moving of vehicles and people, occasionally minor hit and runs in the underground parking garage, which meant more paperwork. Didn't matter that the police were the ones that came out to do the reports, security had to make their own reports so that upper management could deal with distraught guests and their lawyers with the promise that everything was being done for the sole benefit of the customer blah blah blah.

It was later into the evening and most of the crowds had turned in for the night in their hotel rooms, so at this point, hopefully, he could just stare at the monitors and not worry about much. A few guests could be seen walking to their rooms, going up an elevator, or returning to their vehicles in the garage. One particular woman made her way down the ramp and turned the corner of a cement pillar, presumably to access her car and put away the bags of items she had gotten from the dealer's room. He had a desire to swing by that room sometime this weekend, not that he was into that kind of stuff. For his nieces. Yah, for them.

He glanced away to watch the main lobby, ever ready to see if any shoplifters were hitting the convenience store there again. His need to keep shifting his gaze caused him to miss seeing a pair of feet flail around near the bottom of the pillar before being dragged out of sight.

The woman was terrified, and rightly so. She had just started unlocking her vehicle with the key fob when something gripped her mouth shut. A sharp pain entered her lower back ribs near the kidney area, followed by a sweeping cold and paralyzing sensation. She was dragged down to the cold cement pavement, her feet feebly kicking. Someone with strong hands hooked under her armpits and pulled her back into the shadows of the alcove where her car was parked. A dark hooded figure hovered over her. All she could see were green eyes. They were dull, wavering. A whisper, harsh and yet soft, asked, "Are you in pain?" The woman couldn't speak. It was getting harder for her to breathe. She had a vague thought that her lung was probably collapsed. Her breathes were getting shorter and shorter. The assailant regarded her with those dull eyes, until it looked up at the woman's head. A gloved hand reached out, brushing some of the colored hair out of her face. The eyes flared bright green. The figure whispered in a grave tone, "Then perhaps you should be."

The woman did not know what to say. It was a conundrum she did not have to wrestle with long as her life fluids slowly pooled under her body and oblivion rushed in, taking away the pain, and everything else.

Author's Note

Sesame Ginger Glazed Salmon

2 lb Salmon, sliced
1/3 Cup soy sauce
1 tsp minced garlic
1 tsp chopped ginger
1 Tbsp rice vinegar
3 Tbsp honey
1/2 tsp sesame oil
3 Tbsp chopped spring onions
sesame seeds

Place fish slices in baking dish. Mix all ingredients and marinade with fish for 20 minutes, spooning onto fish frequently. Preheat 400 degrees, bake for 12 minutes. Spoon sauce onto fish when done, sprinkle seeds and spring onions to taste.

Steamed Artichokes

Whole artichokes, 1 per person
Provolone cheese slices
Italian bread crumbs

Cut stem off bottoms and cut 1/4 inch off tops. Spread leaves slightly and insert as many cheese slices as you can. The more, the cheesier. Sprinkle crumbs on top. Place artichokes sitting in a large pot and fill with water halfway up the artichokes. Steam for 1 hour with pot covered. Occasionally spoon water onto top of artichokes and monitor water level to make sure it does not dry out. Burnt artichoke carbon is a pain in the ass to scrub out.

When done, eat by placing leaves in mouth and stripping off the inside material. Do not eat leaves whole......unless you are a pony. or my dad.

sorry dad. best story ever.

How Was The Academy?

Civil stared into the mirror. He knew there wasn't much morning prep to be done, short of brushing his teeth and putting on his business attire. He did have that acne he needed to treat. And there was a tooth he felt wiggling around. A sliver of paranoia crept into him. Some of his teeth felt like they were falling apart. Now his face was starting to peel off. The light turned red. The whole scene was an exact copy of the original Poltergeist movie. He squeezed his eyes shut and growled, "Stop it!"

A slightly annoyed sigh sounded from behind him. "Oh fine." >snap<

Civil opened his eyes and was back by the lake again. He spun around and stared at Discord. "I need to get actual sleep, you know!"

The god shrugged and said, "Oh sure, go get that all important interview and polygraph done as another one has fallen. But what do you care, it's not affecting you. Yet."

The pegasus furrowed his brow. "Another what has fallen?"

Naturally, Discord ignored him and countered with, "Are you alive or dead?"

Resigned to playing yet another word game with this entity, Civil responded with, "That's hardly an imaginative question, here. I could be both, or neither." For good measure, he stuck out his tongue. His patience was wearing thin and he needed to try new things to get rid of this nuisance.

Smirking, Discord replied, "I heard that, fyi." Rather than acting offended, Discord waved multiple college team flags in the air while cheering resounded in the background. "Now, see who's using their noodle? You are! You are!" While the creature danced around like a tit on smack, Civil remembered something that had been bothering him.

"If you're in such a helping mood, perhaps you can answer a question for me?" The only response he got was a paw motioning as if to say 'bring it'. "When we recited the words, why did she die?" The cheering ceased and there was an eerie quiet that settled upon the realm of dreams. Gone were the flags, the joviality, the carefree mood of an ancient lord of chaos. Present, was an angry god.

Eyes blazing, Discord growled, "That was not supposed to happen."

"Well it did. Not that I'm not appreciative of the whole protecting her mind thing, it was still your curse that did kill her just by mentioning-"

"I had to curse her twice because she rebounded back! I told you, they-"

"You are angry because your curse failed the first time!?!"

"No you simpleton, I am angry because of what those stupid unicorns did to her!" The entire scene changed. They were now floating above an immense chamber underground somewhere. Below them were rings upon rings of unicorns, their horns glowing so brightly he could not discern where one's color ended and the other began. While he had only heard about such operations in the past, he could only assume this is what linked unicorns looked like while channeling magic.

To the side he noticed the princess Celestia was watching with barely contained agitation, rare for those to see. He looked back to the center of the circles where her eyes were focused. There, floating a short distance off the paved floor, was his mother. His pegasus eyes could make out in stark clarity what his memory had washed away over the years. Pain. Emaciation. Deep wrinkles and tattered wings. Her legs and wings were so atrophied he could barely bring himself to look. She was suspended inside an oblong ever growing three-dimensional web of multi-colored lines of magic, layers within layers spinning in random directions.

"Five-dimensional," Discord murmured. Civil glance at him. The god's mouth wrinkled with disdain and nodded down at the ponies. "They thought employing soul magic would do the job." Civil looked back down and noted a few unicorns were cloaked in black robes. "They were destroying her one cell at a time and her soul was being torn apart, for all the effort to keep it in place. Arrogant. And I know arrogance!" In a flash, the anger was gone, replaced by immense sorrow, the kind that formed black holes in the universe. It nearly overwhelmed Civil as the feeling saturated everything. The scene imploded into nothingness as they floated in the dark. Discord lamented, "I was angry because of what they did to her...one of the few souls willing to listen. In her last moments of existence, she understood everything. And they destroyed everything. They destroyed your mother." He straightened up and took on a prim posture. "As I said, evidenced by her rebirth. You know the rest, of course."

"Her memory..."

"Destroyed. By them. Had I not been as skilled as only I could be, she would have turned into a pony from her human state in all of a split second, then dissolved into nothingness. It was either to be frozen for all eternity, or live just a little bit longer. Which would you choose?"

Civil was shocked. Yes, the doctor back in Frontier told him about the procedure to save Liberty, yet to have such a horrible outcome...he couldn't even process which would have been worse. His mother forever frozen somewhere in Equestria, or a puff of dust in the wind.

Another pegasus somewhere sneezed. Discord's ear twitched and he snorted. "That joke is so bad even I wouldn't touch it to curse it." Civil's confused look garnered the god's attention. "Suffice to say I do not make mistakes. I merely underestimate the willpower of others, on occasion. I overlooked the experiments those ponies did in their mountain and the death of your mother was the result of it. And despite what that glorified doctor told you, there was no cure. Some things are simply meant to be."

He paused, then smiled ever so slightly and added, "Had your mother never contracted her disease by being her true liberating self, you would not be here now, she might actually be dead for reals, butterfly effect blah blah save bestest ponies, exponentially dividing possible futures cloned Twilight, CMC elements yawn. There are a couple of drunk ponies in there somewhere, I think. Get the picture?"

Civil opened his mouth to say something, but Discord beat him to it and emitted a sound that was very digital in nature. The pegasus tilted his head, trying to make out what this new garbage was that Discord was doing. The draconequus shook his head while still squawking and coldcocked Civil in the head with a furry paw.

***

The light finally spilling over the horizon pried his eyes open in the real world. He was back in his bedroom, a single beam of light coming through the curtains. He was also lying on the floor, having flew out of bed due to fright...or.......

He picked up his head and groaned, the side of it throbbing in pain from where he hit the floor. It was the same spot on the head that Discord punched him, yet clearly the floor was what caused the hit.

Right...?

Picking himself up he glanced at his phone he saw the alarm had been emitting that same digital squawk for three minutes. He wasn't sure which he preferred, the jarring sound of digital noise or the jarring punch from an elder god. Neither, if he could only figure out how to avoid both. After fumbling with his phone to deactivate the alarm, he laid back down on the bed for a while longer before pushing himself up again. There was no point in getting any more sleep, the day was upon him regardless of his feelings about it. Stretching his wings, and hearing a few pops up and down his back, he muttered, "Guess it's time for action. Again"

***

Civil entered the large office area. It was your standard corporate cubicle setup, small offices lining one side of the walkway while the other side was partitioned out. A small space was cleared and a line of chairs were in place, all but one occupied.

The walk to his chair was made in deafening silence. The nervous banter of the applicants had ceased almost in unison with his entry through the door. Like a wave effect, heads would pop up to see who it was, followed by short whisper and more heads popping up. It would have been hilarious if it hadn't been solely his presence causing it.

Thank Celestia there was carpeting in place to muffle my steps, he thought to himself. With his folder still tucked under his wing, he approached his chair. One brief hop and he was perched on his seat, waiting to be called into the interview room.

The rest of the office slowly got back to their conversations, though they were somewhat hushed. The line of sitting candidates were dead silent. One or two snuck glances at the pegasus just sitting their in a suit.

Before long, the candidate nearest Civil kept getting elbowed by his neighbor. Civil could make out the jostling in his periphery while staring ahead, so he was ready for the inevitable.

A voice finally cracks, "Are...are you-"

"Yes I am a pegasus. Yes we are real. No I don't know the main six, mane six, whatever you bronies call them."

His terse response produced another long pause. Then in a moment of bravery, the candidate blurted out, "Why?"

That was a new one. Civil raised his brow and turned to face the gentleman. "What?"

"Why here, Dallas? An entire world of magic and you come here? I'd love to go some place happy and perfect."

That was a sore spot. He could feel his chest fur bristling up, but he did his best to remain calm. Relying on the military bearing he picked up in both worlds, he replied calmly, "It was deemed necessary by my superiors that I relocate to a place more suitable for growth and peace of mind."

Another candidate snorted and muttered, "They got rid of him."

While that might not have been exactly true, that did hit a little closer to the mark than he liked. Not wanting to wallow in that quagmire, he addressed the easier point. "I wouldn't call Equestria perfect, or all that happy. It was more of a gentle principality ruled by two sisters."

A young lady leaned forward, exclaiming, "What about the magic, the mythical creatures, the talking animals-"

"I am not an animal," he muttered.

One of the detectives sitting in a cubicle poked his head out and said in an altered accent, "I am not an animal...I am a human being." All the applicants, including Civil, stared at him. He raised his eyebrow, "The Elephant Man? 1980 biographical drama. Anyone?" Some of them shook their heads while Civil flexed his jaw. The young woman grimaced and sat back.

"Sorry," she whispered. The detective shook his head and went back to what he was doing on the computer, muttering something about young people.

Civil sighed. "Eh, that's okay. I suppose two decades of being taught one thing is difficult to unlearn overnight." He gave her a halfsmile.

She smiled back, some of her enthusiasm returning. The other guys there refrained from saying anything else, hoping the feminine approach would loosen the pony better than their directed attempts. A hand shot out to him. "Hi, I'm Terri Galinski." He blinked, looking at her outstretched hand and regarding her unabashed fascination on her face, he nodded and stretched out a wing to her, letting the tip of his outermost primary brush her hand.

"Civil Patrol."

In shock, she barely closed her hand, afraid she might yank on it by accident. After that, the other candidates began to introduce themselves, reaching out as well. He reached out to each one of them with a hoof and shook it up and down, much to their confusion.

"Um, why does she get just the wingtip and us the hooves?" One of the guys did a rather poor job trying keep from laughing while muttering 'just the wingtip'.

Terri rolled her eyes while Civil scratched his ear with a wing, "Because she didn't ask to touch my wings."

They all chimed in at the same time with different versions of, "Can we touch your-"

"Can I touch your dick?" he responded quickly. The one asking him kept his mouth open and stared at him.

When Civil refused to say anything else, the guy said, "Uh...no?"

Civil nodded. "Exactly. A yes would have made that awkward." When the moment had sufficiently ripened with them shifting in their seats, he finally answered, "Wings are a delicate subject for us flyers. Same with unicorns and their horns. Not sure with Earth ponies, just don't stand behind them if you piss them off, I guess. We speak, we think, we feel. For that matter, just about all living things feel." He eyed them for another minute, checking to see if they had been properly chastised. He mulled it over for a few more seconds, putting himself in their shoes. How awesome would it have been in the presence of a magical being when he was a human. He couldn't be a complete jerk, he might be working alongside these people.

Shrugging, he spread his wings to either side. "I figure if we all get this out of our systems, we will be brothers and sisters on the line. Don't pull out any of my feathers, cuz I won't thank you for that." He saw one of them nod knowingly. Nice, at least someone remembered Harry Potter.

It was at this moment a man in a suit stepped out of one of the closed doors and walked up to witness the group gently feeling the pony's wings. One by one the candidates noticed him standing there and went back to their seats. Civil looked up, turning red in the face. He retracted his wings.

"What you do in your private time is your business. That...whatever it was, will not be allowed at the academy or on the streets. Do I make myself clear?" They all nodded, avoiding his eyes as he stared them all down. He turned to Civil, "Thankfully, you are the first one on the chopping block, Mister Patrol. Let's get this over with before you end up wooing everybody on this floor."

Giving his wings a little shake to realign some of the feathers that were out of place, the embarrassed pony followed the man back into the small office. Inside there was a chair placed in front of a long table. Two other men in suits were seated on the other side of the table, watching him. He was told to take the solitary seat while the man who had led him in sat down next to the other two. Civil noted that two of the men were fair skinned while the one in the middle was Black. Other than their skin tones, they were in similar attire, business suits with normal red or blue silk ties, nothing outlandish. In his peripheral view, he could see their dress shoes were glossy black, most likely corfam.

They introduced themselves as Timothy Spencer, Kevin Erickson and Frank Cruz. The third name caught his attention. On closer inspection he noted the dark hair and ever so slightly darker complexion. If the man had Hispanic origins, then this panel was specifically broken down by racial representation. While he was used to the myriad colors in Equestria, differentiating shades of skin tones was a much tougher affair for him. Spencer spoke first.

"You are Civil Patrol, formerly Jason Berringer, separated from the Air Force shortly after a..." He paused and raised his eyebrows, "...a two year hiatus on another planet." The other men on the panel did not react at all, so it was obvious they had already reviewed his portfolio. Civil assumed that it was a fact so fantastic on paper it could ONLY be verified from a living breathing winged pony sitting in front of them. The pony nodded.

"Equus is where I am originally from, before being born as a human on Earth. Mind boggling, I know. I've had to live through it and I came out the other end in one piece." The man quirked his brow and nodded.

"Assuming your application is approved, the academy will test how true that is. Throughout this process, keep in mind that we wish to safeguard not just the citizens of our fair city, but also you as well. We have had examples where this vetting process has failed in the past, so rest assured we are continually refining it over time." Civil nodded. He could see why all this hassle was important.

The dark-skinned human, Erickson spoke up, "Why do you wish to join our department?" Civil blinked at him. The man continued, "You are a pegasus." As if that explained everything.

Civil balked at what he thought was a racial jab. He sat back. "Yes, I am a pegasus, but that shouldn't have anything to do with my application."

The other two men looked at their colleague silently. The man looked down at the papers he was thumbing through in front of him. "In many ways, it does. You have hooves. You stated here in the preliminary questionnaire that you cannot effectively drive a human vehicle without a specialized steering system to accommodate you, that holding a gun would require some kind of augmentation. I would also point out that your body mass is significantly smaller than most people you will be coming into contact with. Some of this job requires physical force to subdue your opponents should enforcement become more than verbal." He put the paperwork down and took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I just want to know if this is some kind of political statement. Are you willing to defend human lives out there or just the rare pony you come across? Are you committed to the law?"

Civil glared. For a moment he had thought, of all the officers in front of him, the black one would have his back in anything concerning race. He gritted his teeth and breathed a few times, thinking about how he wanted to speak. Eventually, he stated, "My 'status' as a pegasus nearly convinced me not to apply for anything, yes. But not because of my limitations. This was something I wanted to do since I was a human child, and until recently pointed out to me, I had completely forgotten about it. You wonder if I will be committed to the law. It's not about blindly following orders, it's about...doing the right thing, making things better. Growing up and participating in Boyscouts, we were taught to always leave campsites cleaner than we found them. I would say this applies to situations you would come across as a police officer. At school I would always follow the rules and tried to get the other students to do the same because I felt if everypony was on the same page, it was better for everyone. After I changed back to my true self, I started remembering my former life as a Royal Guard, the reasons why I joined them. It's not just about keeping the peace. It's about..." His eyes flicked back and forth between his hooves, trying to think.

He looked up when it finally came to him. "I's about being in the right place at the right time. If I hadn't joined the day guard, I definitely would have joined the night guard. There was a recruitment poster that spoke to me back then. 'Some of the scariest monsters come out at night. So do the bravest heroes.' I know what's right and wrong. I shouldn't be judged by my right and my left." He held up both his front hooves for emphasis.

Instead of being annoyed, the black officer sat back and smiled. "Good. You can control your emotions and turn a verbal attack into a rebuke. The subject of race is touchy for, obvious reasons. As a man of color, I don't have to mention the history this country has endured, or the issues of race and equality throughout history around the world. And this is not L.A., this is Dallas. Yet we do have our political flare-ups now and then. We try to maintain order despite the rest of the nation going to hell in a handbasket. We have our plate full as it is, we do not need to invite political activism. Despite egos and opinions, we must remain neutral to any political stance and blind to everything else except the evidence in front of us. Do you understand all of that?"

Civil shook his head and responded, "I don't do politics. If you are so concerned about what I am, then let THESE," spread his wings wide, "be a symbol of me soaring above petty garbage to look over the flock and swoop in to help the helpless. The Guard wasn't just about guarding things, or ponies, or fighting off manticores, dragons, or Discord's left over mutant hellspawn." This got their attention. "When I was off shift, I would walk at night on my way home, listening for sounds that didn't fit in the night. Or that strange movement of somepony in the shadows. A normal guard would just raise a lantern and tell them to move on. I wanted to find out what was going on. I wanted to investigate. I wanted to know...." he looked down at his hooves. "I wanted to be there when it mattered, instead of just cleaning up the mess." He looked up and stared them down. "I wanted to run to the fight, not away from it." He briefly remembered running away with two foals in tow while Canterlot burned. He squashed that memory. "I would like to do that. The Guard was very strict about investigating stuff. I am hoping I can find that here."

They sat back. After a minute of silence, Cruz tilted his head to his colleagues, "I'm on board."

Erickson glanced at Cruz, then at Civil. "I would say you will get more than your fill of investigations, if that is what drives you." He wrote some things down on a piece of paper and looked up, his features genuinely softer. He said, "I apologize if I offended you. I needed to know the real you. It sounds like you understand what we are looking for."

"Boy...did you say dragons?" This was from the man named Spencer.

"Mmhm. Two story house size in open territories, usually. The larger ones tend to stay near their nests."

"Larger ones, he says," Cruz says in a hushed voice.

Spencer replied, "Jesus. We are worried about little stuff like PETA protesting the use of ponies in some para-military capacity."

Erickson cleared his throat and started gathering up the paperwork in front of them. "We did stray from the script a bit. Interviewing a being from another world is not our usual fair." The other men chuckled. Pulling out one paper, it had some scripted questions on it. The man perused it briefly to refamiliarize himself before he began. "We have a few scenarios to run by you. These are possible situations you might run into during your career as a police officer."

Civil nodded and waited.

"You are called to the scene of a major accident. A woman is in the middle of the intersection on the ground, unconcious, her mangled car is off to the side. Another damaged car is on the other side of the intersection. This is in the middle of rush hour. What do you do?"

Civil responded, "I run over to her to see if she is ok."

"Out in the middle of traffic? This is rush hour. Don't forget, you have a car. We assume in these scenarios you have access to all your equipment, including a squad car and you are able to use them."

"Uh, I move my vehicle to block oncoming traffic."

"Good but impractical," one of the panelists responded. "This is a multi-laned intersection during rush hour. A single vehicle won't do much to block things. You have other resources available. You have a radio," the man emphasized.

The light finally came on and Civil blurted out, "Oh! I call paramedics and other officers to the scene. If we can get an engine or ladder truck to help block, do that, too." The men nodded and wrote some things down on their individual papers, expressions neutral. The pegasus sat back in his chair. While he knew there would be some things he would have to do to think on his hooves, he felt a little cheated since he wasn't aware of all the assets and services a cop would be able to call upon in a crisis. He only knew to rush in and help. Like a good pony.

The second scenario was a little rougher.

"You respond to a 911 call regarding a major disturbance in a rough part of town. The apartment complex you pull up to is known for having a few residents that have made threats to police in the past. The callsheet detailed unknown individuals screaming loudly in the parking lot and at some point someone was yelling for help, but when you pull up into the middle of the complex where the parking lot is located, you don't see anybody. Just then, a few bottles come flying at your vehicle, some shattering as they hit your hood. What do you do?"

"I stay in the vehicle and turn on the lights and sirens."

Cruz nodded and said, "Officer safety is good. Sometimes lights and sirens will discourage disorderly conduct. Not these residents. Now they are throwing rocks."

"I get on the radio and request other officers for backup." See, he learned his lesson from the intersection scenario.

"Now the rocks are bricks. One of them goes through your windshield."

"I pull out my gun."

Erickson chimes in, "Maybe back your car OUT of the complex, yes?"

"I back my car out of the complex far enough and wait for backup to arrive before going back in," Civil responded. Yeah, he was hoping they teach him how to properly respond to these things. Getting to a situation and not knowing what to do always gave him a sick feeling in his stomach. Like now.

A couple of the men shook their heads and wrote some things down. Civil waited glumly for the next fuckup he would get to participate in.

"You get a call regarding a warehouse at the edge of town. A woman was heard screaming. The caller couldn't hang around but they described she was possibly being raped. There is a door to the warehouse and you pull up to it."

"I call for cover."

"Cover is coming, several minutes out. You can hear the screams right now."

Civil sat up. He was pissed at failing and this wasn't some tactical quiz, it was straight forward. "I draw my gun and go inside."

"When you enter the warehouse, you see a man holding onto a woman who is tied up and naked. His fly is unzipped. He is holding a gun to her head and tells you to drop the gun or he will shoot her."

"I put two rounds into his head."

All three men raised their eyebrows and stopped writing. They paused for a few seconds before each one wrote something down on their own papers. Erickson smiled quietly and responded, "Good answer."

Finally, he said something right. He asked, "Were the others not good answers?"

Spencer fielded that one. "While we have heard some horrible answers in the past, we are looking for you to at least do something. Inaction, freezing in place, not properly analyzing the situation, that can cost lives. This is to assess if you can think for yourself and not react like a robot." They were starting to gather their notes up. They certainly seemed a bit more relaxed after his last answer.

Erickson stood up. "Don't worry about the small details, Mister Patrol. The academy will teach you the law, what you are allowed to do and not do, as well as what is available for you to finish the mission. I think you are going to do alright. Just relax when things get tense and do not freeze up." Civil nodded and got up.

"Alright Mister Patrol, please step outside and we will discuss your application." Once the pegasus stepped out and closed the door, Spencer turned to the other two. "What do you think? Is he ready to do police work here?"

"Is HE ready?" Erickson chuckled. "Is Dallas ready for him? I don't see anything wrong with his background. A royal guard on another planet protecting royalty and citizens? Air Force with no disciplinary history. Above Top Secret clearance at one point. College. His credentials are stellar." Something crossed his eyes.

"You are worried about his personality," Cruz pointed out. "What he has endured. Dragons, monsters? Like you said, the academy will shake that out, one way or the other."

Spencer sat back down and rifled through the portfolio. "I see no glaring discrepancies in his file or his answers. Some hesitancy in the scenarios, typical of someone not used to police work. He has conviction to do the right thing, according to the psyche questionaire. The military experience gives him a solid foundation for following orders and rules. I'm on board, too. The chief talked to you guys about this one, right?" The others nodded. He grunted to himself. "In any case, the chief wants it done, short of any glaring discrepancies. I don't see any. Pending his other background checks, this is a green light. Are we in agreement?" Without hesitation, Erickson and Cruz nodded.

Cruz nudged Erickson. "You did push him a bit on the pegasus thing."

The man shrugged. "I had a feeling if I went soft, he'd mealy-mouth a P.C. answer. He can control his reactions when pushed. He got a little heated but held it in check. Hopefully the academy will teach him how to control that and remain cool under pressure." He laughed once. "Red Man is going to be a bitch." The others chuckled while imagining that. "Other than that, he is sincere about doing the right thing. Lord knows we need more officers who understand why they are here." The other two men murmured agreements and finished gathering up the papers pertinent to Civil's application. Erickson stepped out to speak to the pony.

Civil was instructed to go down the hallway to the next office door. He passed the seated applicants that had felt his wings earlier. They looked as though they wanted to quiz him about the interview, yet couldn't due to the nondisclosure warning they were given earlier. Just as well, they would all pass or fail on their own merit. The next one of the background checks he was to endure was the dreaded polygraph. From a clinical point of view, he was curious if his pony physiology would throw off sensors normally calibrated for a human body.

This office was smaller, with a smaller table, two chairs on either side, a laptop and a single human male. The man was in a buttoned white business shirt, red tie, and wore glasses. Several wires with thin circular pads were hooked into the laptop via a USB hub. One of the sensors was a long white plastic strip with a velcro strap. Civil figured that one was like an EKG sensor. The man was typing on the laptop.

He didn't look up when Civil entered, but said, "Finishing up a few things from the last applicant. Have a seat and we will get you hooked up soon enough." Civil did as he was told and patiently waited, as much as he could be patient about this part. His wings twitched every once in a while. While he waited, the man peered up at him a few times.

After what must have been only a few minutes, the man finished up and stood. He tilted his head and asked, "The wings, is that normal, the twitching, or is it a nervous tick?"

Civil hadn't even noticed he was doing it until he looked down at himself and willed it to stop. He rolled his neck a little to relieve some of the tension in his muscles. He gave the man an awkward smile and replied, "Some ponies do it when they are nervous. Others, it's just part of their personality."

"Permanently twitchy? No wonder they eat so much sugar. Probably like hummingbirds," the man muttered to himself. He took a bottle and started greasing up the larger sensor with some kind of clear gel. "Okay. No reason to be nervous about the examination. This setup will measure how comfortable you are with the answers you have given on your questionare. Please unbutton your front." Civil's wings started twitching again.

The man chuckled as he moved closer to Civil with the sensor while the pony fiddled with his shirt and jacket. Trying to sit still was a challenge when the man (Okay seriously, what is your name? "Kevin Walker." Cool, thanks) Kevin pressed the gelled device up against Civil's chest. The cold gel mushed into his fur and went right to his skin, making him flinch. He grimaced, knowing that was going to be a pain to wash out later. Kevin pulled the straps up tight around his barrel, securing them with velcro at the ends. He placed the smaller sensors a few places around his head. Lastly he put a single sensor with its sticky pad up against the frog of his hoof. He tried not to respond to the ticklish feeling. Kevin sat back down at his side of the table and hit a few keys. "Alright, just sit still for a minute so I can get a base line."

Civil did as he was told and waited.

After a while the man nodded. "Got it. These first questions are the standard battery of interrogatives. Name?"

"Civil Patrol."

"Race?"

"Pony."

"Sub-race?"

"Pegasus."

"Colors?"

"Black and white."

"Lie about your colors."

"Red and green."

Kevin grinned and nodded, marking down the time on a piece of paper as he watched his screen. "A Christmas pony. Can't wait to see those get marketed in advertisements during the holidays." He used a mouse to drag something around and sat for a few seconds, reading. "You put on your questionnaire that you received some tickets when you were younger? How many and are they paid off?"

"Two, both paid off. Was in high school."

"Mmhmm. And you mentioned shoplifting? Are you still doing that?" Huh, right for the jugular.

Civil shook his head. "No. It was only a few times and I haven't done that since high school."

Kevin leaned in closer to the screen, marked the time down on his paper and glanced up at Civil. "Why did you quit?"

"I was terrified," the pony answered. The human didn't react and simply sat back, clicking on something.

"And then there is this thing up in Canada. What happened?"

Despite dreading this part of the process, Civil could only comfort himself that this was not the worst thing he had done in his two lives, at least to his knowledge. In a voice tinged with embarrassment, he recounted the same story he had told over dinner, except this time there were no interruptions of crashing dishware or peals of laughter. When he was done, the man noted the time. "Just to recap, it was in Canada?"

"Yes."

"Someone else paid for it?"

"Yes."

"And...you ended up doing it yourself?"

".....yes...." Civil had slumped a little in his chair. He swallowed and asked, "So, does this kick me out of the application process?"

"Hah! No." After a few more button taps, Kevin asked, "Is there anything you omitted from the questionnaire that you feel is illegal or wrong?"

Sighing, Civil shook his head. "Other than making mistakes here and there, I think I was justified in my life decisions." Defense of another's life was justified, even if it takes a life, right? He thought back on that dark alley and Luna's words...whatever happens will happen.

Kevin seemed satisfied with what he was seeing and nodded. "All done." He got up and came around the table. Civil was a little stunned as the man started to take off all the electronics from his body.

The pony blinked up at him. "Seriously? The Canada thing doesn't taint me for court testimony? I thought it was grounds for terminating my application." Kevin shook his head and chuckled.

"Hardly. We're looking for people who have committed felonies, like robbery or using heroin. Unless you are an expert at faking false positives, I wouldn't start hanging out at any dingy places. Doesn't appear to be your thing. In any case, you are far from tainted. If you were faking that, we'd give you strong references to get hired at a completely different kind of government job."

Civil tilted his head and rubbed at his chest with the tissue Kevin gave him. Yeah, that gel was going to be icky until he took a proper shower. "False positives? What are those?"

After winding up the wires and putting them on the table, Kevin sat back down, moved the mouse and clicked a few more times. The printer next to him started up and spit out a sheet. He slid it over to Civil so he could see. It was a graphical analysis with timestamps corresponding to each question and answer.

"You'll notice the first several questions had some spikes in the graph. Those are the baselines I mentioned earlier. You were nervous throughout the process, hence false positives. Not a huge issue, though it can muddy the analysis a little. I don't even think you being a pony had much of an impact. If anything, you are probably more forthcoming with how you feel about things than the average person, which is why it made it easier to read you on the topics that made you uncomfortable. See here, your answer to the wrong colors, a definite shift. I don't see that anywhere else. The topics you are uncomfortable with are more gradual in your physiological responses." He walked over to the door and opened it, smiling. "My recommendation, learn to relax. You don't want to have a heart attack before you are thirty, do you?"

Quietly buttoning up his shirt and doing a quick rundown on all the things in his life from his colthood, events preceding the curse, the attempt to hand him over to be dissected to getting tossed through an interdimensional portal by the second most powerful being he has ever known in his life and dealing with a disapproving pair of third most powerful mothers he has ever known in his life...oh, and when he had nearly lost himself mentally right after his change in his quest to get back to Equestria. Yeah, sure. Learn to relax. That was a lofty goal to pursue for the day.

Outside the office he was told the process was done at this point and he would be contacted soon regarding his application prospects.

***

The flight back home was uneventful. On his descent to the house, Civil spotted a certain diminutive filly laid out on a towel on the roof, sunbathing. Hoping to avoid her silliness after a relatively long day of physical and mental prodding, he landed at the front door while keeping his shadow from crossing Liberty's form. All to no avail. As soon as he closed the door, he could hear a clattering through the ceiling of the second floor. It would be too much of a miracle to think Santa had arrived early. He had just made it to the kitchen where his human mother was cooking a seafood gumbo when sure enough, Liberty burst through the front door.

"Hey Little Bird! Some detective came by-"

"Shut the front door, Missy!" Karen intoned without ever looking up from the pot. Liberty skidded to a stop and blanched, spun around, ran back, slammed the door, then zipped back into the kitchen before Civil could half process the word detect-

"-detective came by and asked us all about you! And guess what we told him!?!"

He closed his eyes. To think he had dreaded that polygraph and second guessed his scenario answers more than a few times on the way back, that such thinga would be the worst he had to deal with. Oh no, he had to females right here willing to tell the world about him. He turned to Liberty slowly, not wanting to think what this care-free-I-don't-give-a-damn filly could have possibly said to help his career before it even had a chance to get off the ground....

*** earlier in the day ***

Karen opened the front door to see who was knocking just before noon. A man in a semi-business casual attire with a briefcase stood outside. He looked middle-aged, had a small gray mustache and his face was weathered. His hair was curly, a dapper black peppered with silver gray.

"Hello, I am Detective Randal Blake. I am doing a background check on Civil Patrol who recently put in an application for the Dallas Police Department. I understand he lives here, yes?"

"That is correct." She paused, then turned to Liberty, "You can head upstairs, dear. This will probably be rather personal."

The man tilted his head slightly and raised a finger, "Actually I would like to interview you both, if you don't mind. With another pony in the household, I have to conclude she is related to him in some way?" Glancing to the diminutive filly, he asked, "Your relationship to Civil is...?

"His sister."
"His mother."

The slightly unsynchronized answers threw him off a tad. Just a tad. He'd heard far worse. With a practiced stiffening of his upper lip, he queried, "Which is it?"

"Both," they responded in perfect unison.

"..." Maybe he hadn't heard worse.

"It's pony shit. Same shit, different pony," the pegasus quipped.

"Liberty!"

The pony jabbed a wing at the man while saying defiantly, "Well, it is! And he's a cop, we can't lie to him. You want me to lie to him, Mooooooom?"

After a few seconds, the detective started to smile. Despite the weirdness of the situation, he was not unfamiliar with stories of ponies around the world. He had been briefed and understood there might be some cultural differences. If the worse he had to deal with here was just a misunderstanding of lifestyles with talking four-legged legends of old, this might actually be enjoyable, if a bit odd. He was game. Nodding to the pegasus, he stated, "I appreciate that, miss. That's why we do these interviews, to avoid confusion and get a better understanding of who we are going to train to protect us."

Her mother wasn't quite as forgiving with the child's nonsense. Yes, the little patoot on hooves was still a child to her. Karen regarded the man and waved a hand at her daughter, "Don't listen to her, she is jaded by life."

"I am not! I know my brother better than you do." Karen raised her brow down at the filly. Mother/Daughter time was about to get real.

The man standing at the doorway cleared his throat. "If I may. Siblings tend to spill the beans more than parents, so she might have a point. Mothers by their very nature will protect the image of their children, covering up the less pretty parts, while vengeful sisters paint their brothers in the colors of stark reality."

Dan was finally up from his sitting chair in the living room and had moved closer to the group. He interjected, "And if they are both parent and sibling?"

Karen coughed down a chuckle as Liberty went red in the face.

Huh, Randal thought. This was not going to be just a simple cultural misunderstanding; the detective was starting to rethink his questions. "Oh...then we have a felony investigation instead of just an application for police service. Texas has strict laws on that, unlike some other states. On the subject of mother-sister, was there something-"

"We have ponies in our family, Mr. Blake. While it has been hectic from day One, I assure you that nobody...and no-PONY, has committed any felonies in this household." She underscored her statement by folding her arms.

"Least of all Civil," Liberty stated evenly. "I don't think he could commit a crime if his life depended on it."

He had yet to truly study body language of the pony variety, but with the older woman's solid stance, the younger pony's seriousness as opposed to her earlier childish behavior, and the father figure standing behind them with a calm and steady demeanor, he could not see any sign of subterfuge. All three different personalities were very resolute on the issue. He sighed with relief inside. He did not want to deal with felony level paperwork today.

He nodded, "Okay, I believe you. Um, do you mind if I come in? That way the neighbors don't have to hear all this."

Karen looked shocked at the apparent offense of holding him at the door for so long. She stepped aside, waving him in quickly, "My apologies, come in, come in! I got so wrapped up in this, it didn't even occur to me to be civil about your visit."

"You are Mom. Your son is Civil," Liberty interjected.

Dan tapped her on the head softly, "Quiet you. You'll get your chance to shoot your mouth off." She snorted up at him but stayed quiet. Shocker.

Once the detective was led in and properly seated on a couch offered by Karen, the rest of the family situated themselves about the room. Dan sat in his easy lounge chair, Karen on the opposite couch, and Liberty on a large pillow squarely in the center of the living room, staring up at the visitor. It was almost disconcerting in a way, those big eyes studying him. Randal figured the bossy nature of the child was coming through. If there were any skeletons in this closet, they would come from her, assuming the parents didn't rush her upstairs first.

"So," he began, "how does...the mother-sister thing...how does that work?" He pulled out a notepad from his briefcase and readied a pen.

"The mother-sister shit?" The filly kept a serious look on her face. After seeing her mood swings, Randal was starting to get a read on her emotions.

"Liberty..." Dan intoned.

"He asked!"

Dan said, "It's a long story."

Randal nodded, "Please, enlighten me."

"Okay...." Dan said quietly, remembering.

Thus a retelling of family history commenced, much of it the college days of Liberty which were summarily ignored by everybody (this is not about you, Liberty, again!) (yes Moooom). Civil's supposed disappearance from a plane, the portal and appearance of mythological creatures, the events all over the nation, and the trip to Ocean City were all laid out in the open for the detective. It was certainly far more interesting than the stories and rumors he originally thought were over when he did these interviews.

During a pause and after a much-appreciated glass of water from Karen, the man looked over his notes.

"Backing up a bit, that thing in D.C., all of that was from this creature...I can't even believe I'm using the term 'creature', but there it is. The creature was called a D...Discord, right?" The family nodded, Liberty doing so most enthusiastically. He jotted some notes down, reread his entry and shook his head. They had moved way beyond the mother-sister situation. "Sorry. I'm just imagining what my supervisor is going to say when he reads this. Not like I have to explain anything. Those events were all over the news. Seeing it unfold was surreal. Hearing it firsthand from an actual talking-" He paused and glanced up, looking Liberty straight in the eye. "You've actually lived this, more so than other ponies I would imagine?" She nodded, then nodded again as he added, "The freezing thing, the memory stuff, the rebirth."

He tapped the pen against the pad, thinking while he regarded them all. After a minute he said, "You weren't kidding. Pony shit. Civil seems to have endured a lot, too. Much of it capable of causing psychological stress. How does he handle stressful situations, especially after such a history of physical and emotional upheaval as you describe? Have you seen him do anything morally questionable?"

Liberty laughed as she answered, "Hell no! He is a straight arrow. He will do the right thing all the time, if he can. Boring if you ask me. And you did, so there. He may screw up now and then, but his heart is in the right place. I myself will do what I feel like, as long as I don't get caught." Her mother groaned while her father just put his hand over his eyes. Dan didn't want to see this train wreck as it developed. Liberty turned around to glare at her mother, "Oh give over, I'm not confessing to any crimes." She turned back to the detective, "I did nothing, and that's that."

As a cop who once worked the streets in patrol, he knew the phrase 'hear no evil see no evil' very well. "Okay, so strictly speaking about Civil Patrol...does he drink alcohol and how often?"

This got the filly laughing again while Karen shook her head from behind and answered, "Sir, I've never known him to drink much, if any. Occasionally when we are at a restaurant, he might order a pina colada or some other mixed drink, but I've never witnessed him drinking heavily at any functions or at home."

"Drinking heavily?" The filly wheezed, "It's one or two foo-foo drinks once in a blue moon, if that! Then the only thing he might do at home is put a shot of creme de mint in a blender to make Grasshopper." She had another chuckle thinking about it. "Of course, I've been known to drink several shots-"

Dan interrupted her, "This is about Civil, dear."

Randal asked, "He makes Grasshopper drinks?"

Dan shook his head, "Not full Grasshopper. Something I came up with a while back when they were kids. Couple scoops of Blue Bell Homemade vanilla ice-cream (there is no other better tasting vanilla, I'll fight over that issue), milk, and one or two shots of any mint liquor. Creme de Menthe liqueur works well. Mostly for flavor and color. Put it all in a blender and you have mainly a minty milkshake. We call it Grasshopper. He's made some pina coladas in the summertime or up at our vacation spot in Maryland, but nothing too harsh. My wife has had some in the past and she drinks even less, except for an occasional glass of German wine, so he doesn't make them too loaded."

Nodding, Karen added, "Other than German wines, something about the alcohol gives me a headache. I've never had an issue with his drinks. And like I said, he rarely makes or drinks them."

Randal nodded, made some notes and continued, "How does he...hmm...when he was a human he was white, Caucasian, correct?"

"We all were," Karen answered.

"Are," Dan corrected.

"Speak for yourself, I'm green!" Liberty beamed. Karen rolled her eyes at them both.

"See what I have to put up with?" She muttered.

Shifting awkwardly, the man nodded. "I see. To your knowledge, has Civil ever treated any persons, or ponies, differently, based on their background, creed, skin color...?" He paused, glancing at Liberty, "I suppose fur color...too...do you know any instances where he might hold any kind of bias in his interactions with anybody?"

They all shook their heads with varying degrees of disbelief, as though Civil would ever do that. Liberty, on the other hoof, as it were, "Nope, never, but I have!" Randal merely leaned to the side so he could rest his elbow on the arm rest of the couch and prop his chin on his hand.

"Do tell, sweety."

Before her parents could jump in, she went off, "Well when Jason and I were growing up and going to school in Katy, there were these Mexicans at school who were the Mexican Mafia-" Randal's eyebrows shot up but Karen waved her hands.

"They were not REAL mafia, not as far as I knew. I was a teacher there to help students learn basic English. A small group of Hispanic students who did not have an interest in pursuing good grades tended to hang out and stir up trouble. Some of them were in my class. Most of my students were indeed Hispanic," her tone became stern as she stared at Liberty, "And most of them were good students." She glanced back at the detective. "A few would inform me on what the others were up to and I would make sure a certain school principal knew about it either right before or just after the incidents. They never found out how we were on to them, but we made sure law and order were maintained." A quick glance to Liberty had just a hint of a warning.

Liberty spread her wings in innocence, "What? All I was going to say was, there were some kids who called themselves Mexican Mafia and ran around giving kids nutcrackers and doing spit wads and letting air out of teachers' tires. I had some Mexican friends too, wasn't like I disliked all of them."

"Not all of them were from Mexico, dear." Karen's voice was a little strained. Liberty flicked her wing at her mother. Randal asked what a 'nutcracker' was, though as a guy he could take a wild guess. Nut and cracker were not guy friendly words in the same sentence.

"Oh, nutcrackers? See there were these metal poles holding up the sallyport roof thing above the walkways between the buildings, and in between lunch and gym class, they would grab a random kid, each one by the limb and hold him up like he was laying on his back, then they would run at the pole-"

Randal held up his hand, "I got it...and this activity was condoned at your school?"

Karen responded, "Sadly at the time we didn't have enough staff to monitor them as they made their way out of the cafeteria. This was years ago and they've redone the buildings to make it a complete enclosure. What events we found out about, we made sure the assistant principal gave out the appropriate punishment."

Nodding, he sighed, "Just as well. Katy is outside my jurisdiction. And I think there is a statute of limitations on nutcrackers." That got the young pegasus giggling up a storm. The rest of the questioning was fairly mediocre, some minor date clarifications, locations they had previously lived, on Earth, that is. Liberty found herself mildly perturbed when she couldn't remember Equestria or where she and Civil had lived. The detective didn't mind, anything Equestrian would be nearly impossible to verify unless he got hold of another pony.

By the time he was done and had packed up his paperwork while thanking everyone for answering his questions, Liberty was already marching out the door with a towel, sunglasses, and a host of grumblings about how she was going to lambast Civil with questions of her own.

*** Later in the day ***

"Which totally reminds me, Little Bird, where did we used to live? Was it in the sky or on the ground? What was our family like? Were there other songs I sang to you? Were you a straight arrow and boring Equestrian too or were you a total fuckup?"

Civil stood there in the kitchen, wanting to ask a few of his own questions about the man who had visited the house earlier...but with all the grilling that had been done to him that day....and this shit....

"Fuckit. Big Mom, let me know when dinner is ready. I'm taking a nap." He walked out while little mom followed him, rattling off question after question. Karen slowly shook her head and kept cooking.

Dan was out having another walk, his luck for avoiding these things still holding true.

A few days later Civil received a call. "Hello, Mister Patrol, I am Detective Randal Blake. I was assigned to investigate your application, and it looks like everything checks out. You will be joining the next class starting a week from today."

"A week? That's really quick," exclaimed Civil.

The man on the other end must have been surprised because he paused before asking, "Do you not want to go?"

"Yes! I mean, I want to go! I just didn't think it would be so soon, is all."

"Well, that's how these things happen. Some candidates end up waiting six months at a time. You lucked out. Instructions have been emailed to you. If you have any questions, you can call me at this number during normal business hours. Good luck and stay safe."

Wow. This was happening, he thought to himself. He only ever had two dreams, across two lifetimes. While the first was a mixed bag as a navigator, he would finally get to be police. And yet...what dreams did he really have before the curse? Helping ponies? Could he even say that was something he desired.

No. Not honestly. It was more selfish than that, he was ashamed to admit. He wanted to matter. At a time and place, following the rules and making sure all things ran smooth and clockwork-like, he wanted to matter. If he graduated, he would be in the thick of it. Dallas. He took a deep breath and nodded to himself. In for a pony in for a pounding, this was going to be rough. Police work meant more than just guard work. He was going to get into people's shit whether they liked it or not because he had to solve problems, not just guard shit.

"Moms!" He yelled downstairs. "It looks like I start the academy next week!"

***

After 8 grueling months in the academy, several frustrated instructors, weeks of aching muscles from defense instruction and sore eyes from reading about all the laws, protocols and policies there were in the police department, and many many teeny tiny errors (not all of them Civil's fault!), this was the day of graduation, where Civil was finally going to put on the uniform to be one of Dallas' finest-

Spbpt, yah right. Where's the fun in skipping over all that?

***

T minus 8 months and counting.

Civil's pegasus sire, Civil Justice, had always felt the longest days on a journey were the first, and the last. The first day because you see the finish line out on the horizon, a vast distance away promising a very long journey ahead of you. The last day...because it IS the last day and the culmination of all your efforts. Civil thought about all the things he had done and choices he had made to reach this point. Knowing that his military life, and Guard life he supposed, was done, corporate options and any other business type thing were out, this was it. This HAD to succeed.

In many instances in his life, Civil tended to finish things or accomplish goals by the skin of his teeth. It was that way in college, just barely graduating with the appropriate grade point average to matriculate into the Business College and get commissioned through ROTC that very last day, all at once. And it was that way in most other things before that, including his earlier time in Equestria. You'd think Civil got tired of it playing that close to the edge. He was tired of it, yet he always found himself in these instances. Despite all that, he always came out on top. He didn't know it at the time, but it was his sheer willpower, a thing most living creatures have but only a few seem to utilize.

He arrived outside the academy near the small business airport in southwest Dallas promptly before 8 am. Dressed in a pony styled business suit complete with belt and tie, and wearing his boots since he was unable to find the pony equivalent in dress shoes, he moved with the small crowd of other applicants in through the front doors. From there a red-shirted instructor directed them to a large empty room that had several tables and chairs. Once they were all seated, several people came by dropping off packets of paper. This was to be the contract signing, insurance and information dump session of the day. All in all, it was rather boring.

After all the paperwork was collected, the lady who had been instructing them on where to sign thanked all the applicants and apologized for what they were about to endure before leaving. Huh, ominous much?

Another instructor marched in and told them to stack up all the chairs, put the tables on their sides, fold the legs and carry everything to the sides of the room to be nearly stored away. As he did his best to follow the instructions, he could feel a tension start to build in the air. While they worked, several more instructors started to meander their way into the room, lining up along the walls.

As soon as the last table and chair were set aside, the main instructor yelled at them to each stand on a taped 'x' on the carpet. There were several rows of them evenly spaced and they all scrambled to grab vacant x's. He wasn't all that surprised as the events ensued. He'd had guard and military training start out like this in his past.

"All of your eyes on me!" yelled a red shirt who stood at the front of the room. "I want to make sure you are paying attention and you get our names right. I am Senior Corporal Cross. This is Senior Corporal Wood." One by one each instructor lined up along the walls stepped forward and raised his hand. There were at least thirty people. Yah. Civil was screwed. Memory games were not his strongsuit-

"EYES FORWARD CANDIDATES!!!!" They all snapped to, as if they could stand any tighter. In seconds there was someone already in his face, bending down to try and get eye level with him. Screw. Civil couldn't even remember this guy's position on the wall.

"They told us we couldn't haze you for being a pony, horse, or any other kind of farm animal. They said we couldn't make fun of your wings, your overbite, your large eyes, your fur, or your dainty hooves. And they definitely won't let us make fun of your height. So, the only thing left for us to do is pick your brain! For instance, what is my name?"

Fuck

"Um, I can't remember-"

"That's SENIOR CORPORAL to you, maggot! And yes, we CAN call you names completely unassociated with your race. A maggot is a young housefly, did you know that, cadet!?!"

"Yes senior corporal-"

"NOT to be associated with the common HORSEfly, did you know that, cadet!?!"

"Not if that's a pony joke, then no sir."

"...are you trying to get cute with me, cadet?"

Civil swallowed. "As long as it's not natural pony cuteness, then absolutely not, sir."

The instructor immediately straightened and turned away, barking out of the corner of his mouth to Civil, "EYES FRONT!" The pegasus could barely see the man holding a hand over his mouth, quivering slightly. Another instructor stepped up to the first as they both tried to keep straight faces.

The second guy leaned over to him as the first one whispered, but Civil's hearing still picked it up. "Stan, I just about lost it. We're going to have problems with this one."

His buddy nodded and glanced around to make sure nobody else was listening in. The second one murmured, "Take a minute to get your shit together. Think about your first marriage, that might help." That wiped the smile right off his friend's face, nodding. "I'll work him over a bit, then you can tag back in." The man walked away to bother another applicant.

The second instructor moved closer and stooped low to look Civil in the eye. "You think you're funny, don't you?" Civil stared straight ahead, silent. The man yelled, "I asked you a question, cadet! ANSWER IT!"

Civil responded, "I'm funny when I need to be, so yes sir, I do."

"Oh really!? You think you can go through life laughing at everything?"

Civil gave a curt nod and replied, "Spend life laughing, or spend life crying, sir."

The man snorted derisively and said, "That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. I also heard equines are dangerous at both ends and crafty around the middle. Is that true cadet!?"

He recognized the quote and replied, "I wouldn't know, sir. Depends where you stand on the matter."

The instructor was about to respond and then the joke hit him. He barked out a single laugh, then said, "On the floor! Give me twenty push-ups, now!" Civil squatted down as best he could to do said pushups. "Wingups, cadet, this ain't vacation!" Civil's eyes widened. The instructor jumped down on the floor with him, yelling, "You are damn straight I know what a wingup is! I said twenty! NOW!" The man yelled out each wingup as Civil worked them off. He hated wingups...hated them like...like gum in his fur hated them!

It was a long day and plenty of suits would need dry cleaning by the time all was said and done. Thankfully it was only a couple of hours. They were even made to run outside and around the track a few times. He was not interested in standing out in this environment and did his best as herd animals knew how, stayed close to the middle as possible.

As the sun was starting to the set, so did the day of torture draw to a close. Back in the main room, one of the instructors walked back into the room. "At ease, ladies and gentlemen. And pony." The all slumped but thankfully nobody completely fell out. "Today is officially over and I can assure you none of the other senior corporals will be harassing you for the rest of the day." They all sighed and relaxed. He spread his hands and said, "This was a taste of what the next eight months will be like. If you decide to quit and not return tomorrow, there is no shame. If you stay a few months and quit, there is no shame. This is a job not for the feint of heart. It will test your mind, body and resolve. We intend to break you down and rebuild you into men and women, and pony, that will proudly wear the uniform and shield." He glanced at Civil and nodded, smiling, "You will be tasked to work as individuals and as part of a team to accomplish things the average citizen would just as soon not want to deal with, nor will they have the proper mental faculties to make critical decisions that you will be tasked to do. You might have to separate a family member from relatives and take them to jail. You may arrive at a scene and all hell is breaking loose. You might have to shoot someone. Making mistakes can get people killed out here and this process will weed out those who can from those who cannot. For the record, we want all of you to make it. We need you. Go home, keep up with your fluid intake and get plenty of sleep tonight. You will need it."

Eh, Not Bad. We Got Shot At.

Struggle Snuggle.

Civil didn't care if he'd snagged the term from some online story by MadMaxtheBlack. It still felt like straight up struggle snuggle to him.

He was currently sitting on his rear, front legs bent with his barrel halfway lowered to the matted floor of a large workout room. Various guide-ons, pennants, and random flags adorned the walls near the ceiling while below them they were padded, you know, in case you were thrown into said walls. Each candidate in the room was paired to another, male to male, female to female, based on body size. Mostly. He was somewhat mollified that he was not paired up with a chick. Not that the City of Dallas would condone such things in modern American society, but yah, that was the silver lining in this situation. His gray shirt and blue shorts should have kept him modestly covered, however the soft material did absolute zilch to restrain anything embarrassing that might...develop. He was confident wrestling with another dude would keep that from happening. Kind of confident.

The pegasus was paired with a sizeable male DT partner. The letters stood for Defense Training. The human, Eric Buchanon, hunched over Civil's back. His left hand gripped the front left foreleg, right hand on Civil's right upper leg just short of the shoulder joint. This was the starting position everyone in the room was told to assume, and here he was. In a weird game of Twister.

"Get used to it, people! And pony! Your suspect will fight like they have nothing to lose. You at least have to approach them the same way or you will lose. Now, when I yell 'switch,' you will switch positions. When I yell 'flip,' you will flip your partners. When I yell 'reset,' you will go back to your original positions. Uppers, you will attempt to flip your partners. Lowers, you will resist. I will give you several seconds each time to accomplish your task." The D.T. instructor paused to look around the room and made sure everyone was ready. He had ice blue eyes and a weathered face. His name was Mike Eviden, Senior Corporal in rank and former Coast Guard in experience, a sailor sometimes referred to as a Coasty. Stocky and built like a short tank, the man was the de facto leader in all things D.T. related in the department. That meant if any investigation involved an officer's use of force and the need for justification in that use, the department came to him before going to court.

He was a little quirky, too. Occasionally he grunted in the back of his throat and would always refer to hands as being the most dangerous things to keep an eye on when confronting a suspect. When Civil first saw him back on hazing day a few weeks ago, the man reminded him of his human grandfather. While Civil did not take to people barking orders at him, the similarities allowed the pony to take to heart what the man said. Some of the antics during these workouts even caused Eviden to chuckle like Civil's grandfather. When the pony had informed him he was prior Air Force, the man barked out a laugh and walked away, muttering "Fuck..." Civil didn't take offense. Most of the branches felt that way toward Air Force. Probably because those lesser branches got shitty hotel options.

"FLIP!"

Unfortunately, the nostalgic thinking had also allowed Eric Buchanon, Civil's partner, to flip Civil right on his back. The floor was padded, but not THAT padded. Civil groaned and got back up. He had landed on his side, his shoulder having been pile driven into the floor.

"Reset!"

Eric resumed his position when Civil was in place. "I thought you ponies are supposed to land on all fours."

Civil snorted and turned his head slightly to him. "That's cats, dingus. Cats land on all-"

"FLIP!"

This time Civil was ready and strained against his left side as Eric tried the same move again. Both held a few seconds, straining against each other.

"Reset!"

They both reset. Eric eyed the pony warily.

"FLIP!"

The same thing happened, neither one letting up. This went on a few more times as Eviden walked around the room critiquing different sparring pairs. Occasionally he would give words of advice, admonish those that were half-assing it. When he was next to Civil and Eric, he yelled, "Reset!" Once the two were in position, he lowered his voice to address Eric, "Four-legged people are harder to unbalance than two-legged. Anybody, even us humans, can hold off someone else when they have all four planted and you are using only two hands to grapple and two legs to push from the ground. You divide your strength while they double it. Find their center of balance, and unbalance it." He walked on and raised his voice, "FLIP!" He kept Eric and Civil at the edge of his peripheral vision.

Thwack!

Eviden spun around to find Eric laid out on the floor, dazed, while Civil was standing over him, both wings flared out and a surprised look on his face. The instructor narrowed his eyes and barked, "Buchanon, what the fuck just happened?!"

Civil lowered his wings and stammered, "Sir, it...it was my fault. I-"

"Shut up cadet. When I address you, you will know it." Eviden stared at Civil until the pony stiffened his posture and looked straight ahead. Satisfied, the senior corporal focused on the young man getting up off the mat. "Now, Buchanon. What happened?"

While rubbing the side of his head that was showing a nice red swath on his skin, he nodded at the pony. "We were sparring, and then he blindsided me with his wing."

The instructor barked out a short laugh. "Just like that, your guard was up and then he whiffed you with a feather duster? Bullshit. Your answer isn't worth the bilge they pumped out of last week's head." He began to articulate each word slowly, "Now. What did you do before you got your ass kicked?"

Blinking, Eric opened his mouth, closed it, then said, "I...think I grabbed his wing. You said center of balance. I figured I could heave him over, take him off all fours. So I grabbed him around the sides."

Nodding, the older man walked over to Civil and asked, "Permission to touch, cadet?" Not knowing where the man was going with this, Civil nodded slowly. The man nonchalantly planted his hand right between his withers. Civil did all he could to keep......ANY body part responding on its own. Eviden raised his voice. "Everybody, circle around, you need to see this." The rest of the class got up from their ready positions and formed a large circle around the three. Eviden turned to Eric.

"You 'think' you grabbed his wing? Right. In this job you either did something or you didn't. None of this 'think' bullshit. We live and die by what we do and what we know. Everybody, pay attention to this. Officer safety is PARAMOUNT in our job. Any person, any pony, can became an enraged animal not only when they feel like it, but also based on what you do. If you escalate a situation and it goes to shit, I promise you this department, which wouldn't know the difference between a shitbird and a pimple on a good cop's ass, is ready to fire each and every one of you. You get me!?" Everyone responded with a semi-collective yes.

"Good. Keep that shit straight and you might just have a long enough career to retire from. Now, take this pegasus. Civil, extend a wing."

"Yessir." Civil did as instructed. Eviden lifted his hand off the pony's back and extended his index finger, following the curve of the wing from the shoulder joint to the equivalent of the elbow, not quite touching the entire time. Then, unexpectedly, he gripped the elbow joint. As soon as he did that, Civil's wing twisted and reflexed so fast, all Eviden could do was shield the side of his head. A nice loud 'thwack' resounded in the room and the older man stumbled a few feet to the side.

Civil's eyes widened and he yelped, "Oh shit! Sir, I'm sorry!"

"Fuck it," Eviden responded, flexing his arm and stepping back next to the pony. "I was expecting that." He turned to Eric. "THAT is what you did, and that," he shook his arm for emphasis, "is why you ended up on the ground." He looked to Civil. "You did some kind of twist and extend move. First time, I almost didn't see it. Is that instinct or training?"

Guiltily Civil looked down. "Um, training, sir. Normal instinct is to simply pull away, which could damage it more. That's why when we're young we are taught not to pull, unless our life depends on it. The wings are more resiliant than they look...but take a while to heal if they get yanked out of socket." He furrowed his brow and admitted, "We're not exactly a predatory species, so flying is our primary means of safety. The twist and extend thing...that's a move trained into me since I was a foal. A little more advanced than basic survival." Remembering now, he looked Eviden in the eye. "My father was in the Royal Guard and was tired of me being bullied at school. We practiced that move religiously until it was second nature. I didn't even remember it until..." He glanced at Eric and muttered, "well, you know."

Eviden nodded. "So, not every pegasus will react the same."

Civil shook his head, "No, sir. It's not standard pegasus upbringing. Then again, most of my training is atypical for a pegasus since the majority of ponies are unicorns in the Guard. Still, the flying corps of the Guard has their own specialized training, which I also learned."

Eviden waved his hand, "Not interested in any of that martial arts crap. Unless we can condone it here in the academy and train you in it, we can't protect you if you get sued for using some MMA bullshit out there." He eyed the rest of the room's occupants. "So, some ponies can fight by kicking and biting while others can deliver well-placed strikes with any body part, including sharp horns on their heads and sharp hooves, yes?" He glanced at Civil who nodded. The other students began looking at Civil with a bit more respect. "But they will react similarly, given their...non-predatory nature, as you put it? They can panic easy." Eviden touched the mid joint again, this time lightly. It briefly flexed before Civil could consciously react.

The pony responded, "Definitely, sir."

Eviden flexed his own arm again and chewed his lip for a few seconds. He nodded to himself and said, "Hear that, class? Like striking the knee with a rubber hammer, certain pony parts will react in ways you are not ready for. In addition, the wingtips can manipulate items as though the feathers are large fingers. No matter what you have heard, assume they can pull your gun, your cuff key, open doors, anything. Spells too, if you can believe that shit. That is correct, Patrol?"

The pegasus nodded. "Most unicorns are taught not to use their magic offensively...yet there are always exceptions."

Eviden nodded. "Yeah. Always. Please extend your wing out again, feathers down."

Civil did as he was told. This time the instructor pointed to the limb and feathers without touching.

"As you go down the wing, the limb gets more prone to reflexive action. While near the body there are more nerve endings and sensitivity, the fragile nature further out will elicit a more violent reaction when fucked with. The bones are easy to break since they are hollow, damaged feathers can change flight profile and even render a pegasus flightless if you fuck em up too much. Mind your force continuum when handling these guys. A simple arm bar on a human could snap a pegasus wing. Then you have to explain why you just maimed a mythological creature for jay walking."

Eric leaned over and whispered, "Why would you walk when you can fly?" Civil rolled his eyes and gently kicked him in the leg with a rear hoof.

Eviden took a step backward and used both hands to lightly touch the base joints. "Also, as you move inward to the withers-" He paused and placed his hands down on Civil's back, this time pressing a little harder. Both of Civil's wings popped out to either side as the instructor deftly stepped out of the way, "-this might happen. This is not active aggression and does not warrant use of less-lethal devices. Am I correct that this is an erogenous zone for you flying types?"

Cheeks and ears glowing red, the pegasus shuddered and whispered "...yes. Less for some others...but..." He shook it out.

"Louder."

"YES, sir! It is an erogenous zone for most flying creatures."

Several of the students snickered. Eviden merely stared at them until they quieted down. He was not smiling. "Oh, this is all fun and games, grab-assing and...dare I say, horsing around?" He saw some of them looking a little squeemish. "Feeling up another man or woman's fun parts is not your thing? Get used to it. Are you not supposed to do a thorough job searching your prisoner, around the balls, and the cooch, between those titties? Don't like being around salami? I say get in there! Genoa or spicy!"

Laughter erupted from most of them. Some guys and girls were shaking their heads. Civil might have taken part in the laughter if he hadn't felt something odd settle between his shoulder blades. He looked up at the instructor.

"Never mind that crack in his crack? I like me some chocolate crack, thankyou! All melty and nasty!" Eviden kept piling on the weird verbal shit as he backed away from the pony. Civil remained still. More waves of laughter ripped through the crowd. Civil saw the twinkle in the the wily man's eye and remained silent. Once the laughter died down to a dull murmur of private jokes and jabs of toilet humor, Eviden said, "Civil, do me a favor and shake yourself like a dog."

The pony did just that. He pulled his wings back in and shook himself out. In doing so, a rubber knife flew from his back and hit the floor. There was absolute silence in the room. Eviden walked back over and picked up the knife. He pointed it around at them until everyone saw what he was holding.

"This shit will get you and your partner killed! Understand that we are not dealing with people from a normal fucked up world anymore. We are dealing with two fucked up worlds and people we never knew existed until a couple of years ago. Maybe more, who the fuck knows. Always, always, ALWAYS search. And never assume anything. I've buried too many friends because of stupid fucking mistakes in the field that could have been prevented. Now get back into position." He looked around the room and added, "SWITCH!" The students went back to their spots, now reversing the roles. Civil walked to his own place and turned to the instructor.

"Sir, how did you know about wings?"

Evidon raised an eyebrow. "I'm a DT instructor. I have to know pony anatomy now." He shrugged. "In order to testify Use of Force in court, we have to know everything there is to know about physical force, both lethal and non-lethal." He sighed and took off his cap, scratching at his balding head. "You guys brought all sorts of new shit to learn. Had me and my staff running ragged placing phone calls all over the place. Spoke to hospitals, FBI, Washington D.C., Army Public Relations...the zoo and a few ranchers. Even visited some of the new pony towns and spoke to the locals there. Can't get over the colors." He looked Civil up and down and chuckled.

"Shit son you look like one of our squad cars. Anyway, we read up on all the stuff the media didn't put out in public...some horror stories, too. My job is to train these cadets on how to survive in this new age, not like police work was already difficult enough. In a nutshell, we got interdimensional shit to deal with. No offense, Patrol."

"None, sir. Was just surprised you knew all that about ponies." Civil positioned himself over the larger human.

Eviden walked by and bumped Civil's shoulder. "Flattery doesn't do shit for me...but thanks. I won't single you out unless it is something valuable to learn. I've buried too many fucking friends to shy away from that kind of shit. And I'm serious about them learning how your body works. You guys can't afford to miss shit in the field, whatever your feelings on the matter."

Civil lowered his voice. "I don't mind, sir. If it means teaching everypony...everyone to defend ourselves, continue using me. Might also get them used to me. They're still a bit standoffish when I speak to them."

Eviden nodded down at him. "Alright, Patrol, will do." He walked to the front of the room and turned around, waited until everyone was ready, and yelled, "FLIP!" Civil struggled to use his smaller frame to flip the larger man under him. Nothing happened. "Reset!" Civil merely stood there with a frustrated look on his face. Eric grinned up at him.

"Problems?" Eric smirked. His arms and legs were at their widest to provide absolute stability on all fours. Civil hadn't budged him.

"Gee, ya think?" Civil muttered. He looked up and saw Eviden staring at him. There was a twinkle in the man's eye again. Civil shrugged and asked, "Suggestions, sir?"

"What do I look like, an Equestrian? I know how to move like a human and throw humans around. You SHOULD know how to move like a winged pony. Yes?" Civil flexed his jaw in thought, then his face lit up. Eviden grinned and asked, "Ready?" Civil nodded and braced himself. Eric's brow furrowed.

"FLIP!"

Civil extended his wings and flapped once. Both he and Eric lifted up a few inches before Civil twisted his wings over, then the rest of his body, flinging Eric over him and onto the mat with a loud bang. Civil rolled away and got up. Several of the students paused to admire the wicked impromptu WWF smackdown. Cuz screw WWE.

Eric coughed a few times while remaining on his back. Once he got the air back into his lungs he sat up. Eviden walked over, chuckling. "Guys, remember, these are your brothers and sisters. Try not to go 100%. With that said, don't go easy, either." He lowered his voice, "Nicely done. Just a little less oomf, kay?" Civil nodded and set up again. Eric now had a worried look on his face. While the guy could push against the pony and square his limbs properly against the floor, he had no defense for air lifts.

Civil noticed Eric's demeanor and said while getting into position, "I'll dial it back." Eric didn't look too convinced, but Civil was a stallion of his word and only used a little bit of vertical lift for the rest of the exercise. That day ended with all of them exhausted, a little wiser in physical preparedness, and plenty bruised from the rough handling. So yeah, another typical day at the academy.

Early on, lunches were rather lonely. It wasn't that he was ignored by the other cadets. He simply never gave them an opportunity to ignore him. He would zip off as soon as they were released from the classroom, hit some random fastfood place or barbecue joint, then either find a cloud to eat on, or hang out in a tree or atop a large building. It was kind of a shock after one day of particularly grueling death by PowerPoint that his table buddy caught him before he even had the chance to push back his chair with, "Hey, Patrol, want to have lunch with us?"

Mid-escape, Civil's ears laid back. He turned his head to the guy and said, "Uh, I don't know. I usually eat by myself. Less chances of people walking up to me and talking about being a pony while lunch time burns up."

The cadet smirked but said nothing, just watched him for a bit. His name was Brian Harris. He had that southern country boy look to him, yet was always courteous to Civil since the first day. Some others in the class were outright shits...but they were shits to everyone else anyway except their own little group.

Civil stared back at him. Seconds passed. Harris rolled his eyes and added, "Look, we'll keep people away so you can eat in peace. The seafood isn't bad there, the China Buffet. You know it?" Civil shook his head. Not exactly the best sounding place, gastrointestinally. Before he could get his polite refusal out, Harris said, "They have a really good spicy shrimp dish there."

The pegasus groaned and rolled his head a little, finally giving in. "Okay, jeez." He got out of his chair more slowly this time. "You really want me to go, don't you?"

Harris shrugged and got up. "Some of the others were wondering why you were avoiding everybody. I got elected to slap you with the olive branch. Didn't sting too much, did it?"

Civil smirked and waited by the end of the table until they both could walk out to the hallway. "Naw. I've had worse. Being dragged to a bar and forced to drink, dance, loosen up. Shit like that. They felt I needed an intervention."

Harris chuckled. "Damn, wish my friends would intervent my ass every night. Would be a blast." Civil laughed as they headed to the front doors. They met up with several others and discussed where to eat, with Harris pushing for the China Buffet. While Civil attempted to stay back, it didn't help much after Harris pointed out he used the place as incentive to get the pegasus to join them. All eyes turned to the pony trying to remain unnoticed. He stepped forward and shrugged noncommittedly.

"Sure, I guess." His equinely spaced eyes picked up the exaggerated head nod Harris was giving them from behind his back. "I can see you, ya know."

The man grunted and pulled out his cell phone. "Okay. Can you see what I am texting?" After a few seconds, the holdouts heard their phones chirp. Two guys and a girl glanced at their phones and changed their votes to the China King Buffet.

Civil twisted his head around and stared at Harris for a few seconds before shaking it and smirking, "Yer an asshole." The rest of the group laughed as they got to look at the text message. Nobody was willing to show Civil, despite is poorly hidden attempts to strain his neck and see any phones not already disappearing into pockets. The group broke up while Harris walked by, patting Civil's head in a friendly manner.

"Don't worry. I told them you were a shellfish slut and were drooling the moment I mentioned shrimp. Come on, you can ride with me." Civil would have said something scathing...had he not reached up and discovered he was in fact, still drooling. His right eye twitched before he massaged his temple and plodded along behind the guy. He clambered up into a pickup truck and Harris waited until the pony had situated the seat belt on himself.

While they pulled out of the parking lot, a slow process since all the classes were trying to leave out the same exit, Civil looked around the inside of the cab. He noted the bright orange and olive-green cap on the dash, a few knives lying around, and some empty rifle casings rattling around in the center console where you normally put loose change. The steering wheel realtree cover was downright cliche at this point. Oh, and Harris had an accent that screamed pure country. Civil glanced at the guy.

"You hunt."

He nodded back at Civil, "Yup." They finally got on the road and were silent for about a minute.

"Bow or rifle?"

"Both. Sometimes handgun, but you gotta get closer for that. I can be somewhat quiet, just not that quiet. Prefer the bow more often than not." Civil slowly nodded and stared out the window. Harris eyed him slightly while watching the road. He said slowly, "I don't hunt anything that talks, if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm not worried," Civil said after a quick snort. He tilted his head, then added, "Maybe they just don't want to talk to you." He could see Harris tense up a little. The next mile was ridden in dead silence. Once Civil was sure that the moment had steeped enough, he said, "Just fucking with you, Harris." The man laughed, though somewhat cautiously. He did appear to relax.

"I'm going to assume that was for the text thing."

Civil nodded, "The text thing." His eyes wandered and saw the man's phone sitting between them. "So what did you text them anyway?" Harris picked it up, thumb-swiped his code and put it back down. The pony peered at the screen.

Shellfish slut. See the drool? Buffet this time. Whatever you want next time.

Civil stared straight ahead, working his jaw. Harris reached down and clicked the lock button to save power.

".....you're like, two assholes."

Harris laughed.

It wasn't a long drive, only a couple of minutes. Most of the trip was spent dealing with the typical traffic of lunch time. They all met up at the front doors and walked in. An Asian hostess came around the counter and asked how many, grabbed the correct number of utensil sets and was about to seat them when she noticed the pony in their group.

"Pony! And pegasus! We are very honored to have such distinguished guest visiting us. Please, have whatever you want. Buffet is great place to start. We have Mongolian grill over there, anything you put in bowl, they stir fry for you, very good. All complimentary."

This caused Civil no end of uncomfortable embarrassment. Noticing the raised eyebrows from his classmates, he waved a wing back and forth, "Ma'am, that's not necessary. I'm just a normal pony-"

"You are very special!" She cut in, completely ignoring his attempt to refuse the offer. "Many people dream seeing mythical creature in their lifetime. Here you are, no mythical. You are very special for hopes and dreams. Your meal is free, no exception." Before he could get a word in edgewise, she had already dropped off their silverware at the long table and headed to the fountain machine area. She began piling up dark red plastic cups onto a tray, filling each with ice water.

As his group continued to eye him, mostly with approving nods, he lowered his head and muttered, "I'm just doing the buffet. This shrimp better be some hopes and dreams kind of shit," then clip-clopped over to the plates next to the rice cooker. At this point he didn't care who stared at the equine oddity in the restaurant.

Harris said to the others, "He's a bit touchy about his pony status."

"A bit?" Julie Baker noted. She was one of the scrappier women in the class. Harris shrugged and headed to the buffet.

Civil ended up grabbing some of everything he saw, minus the entrees that had beef in them. Quite a few used either chicken or seafood as the main ingredient. As for the shrimp dish, Harris wasn't kidding. It was a mixture of spices and bell pepper, including chili pepper and garlic, that made it really delicious just from the smell. All of this he piled onto a bed of rice. A single dish wasn't near enough to hold everything so he figured he would be back for more. He couldn't wait to sit down and dig in.

"So why have you been dodging us all this time, Patrol? Do you not like us or something?"

His fork, held by a wingtip, hovered so enticingly close to his mouth, the scents of greatness wafting into his mouth and nose. And yet, he was so far away from gastrochemical bliss. He lowered his fork and glanced over at Julie. "I wouldn't say I dislike people, per se. I mean, I love individuals." Her look of disbelief prompted him to add, "Seriously, I do. I just hate groups of people."

She exhaled with exasperation and replied, "Us is plural, people. You dislike people. Is it a human thing then?" He dropped his fork into his plate and sat up with indignation. Another classmate swooped into the conversation.

"Wait, I get what he's trying to say. He likes individuals but hates groups of people, hates the group think. That was a quote from a George Carlin interview. Is that who are referring to?" Justin Walsh asked. Not that Civil even remembered his name, but you know, for the audience, he supposed.

"Huh?"

"George Carlin?"

"Yeah I know who he is, one of my favorite comedians." Civil dropped his scowl and wracked his memory for any skits that had that line. He couldn't think of any. "Carlin actually said he loved individuals and hated groups?"

"Yep, it was funny. He also went on about how groups would start wearing funny hats, armbands, have fight songs....visit lists of people at 3am in the morning. He wasn't big into large groups of people moving around as a giant amoeba. I added that last part, though you get the idea."

The pegasus grinned and sat back in his chair. "Hah....no kidding? I've felt that way for years. About the groups thing, not about the 3 am visits. Wow, that is really neat."

Baker looked between the two of them and quipped, "Wow, racist much?"

"No, not racial groups." He waved a wing at Walsh to let him know he had this one. "Like....large groups of people, or groups that move and think as one. I come from a world where the herd mentality is predominant before all other considerations. Our cutie marks give us individuality, but the group gives us strength." He scratched his chin with a hoof. "It is really easy to take on the sentiment of a larger whole and lose oneself in it. I hadn't thought about it until now...our cutie-marks are almost a bulwark against that thought process."

She looked down at his side and tilted her head. "You don't have one of those cute marks."

Rolling his eyes, he replied, "Cutie...not cute. And...it's a sore subject for me. Still, just the existence of our marks in general lends to our pursuit of individuality within the context of a whole. In a way, we benefit the whole without blindly running around like drones." He paused, thinking on the changelings. Probably one of the best examples of group think he had, and he dared not to broach that topic among these humans lest he sow the seeds of discontent with any Equestrians, changelings or otherwise. "Anyway, yes I am aware I don't have a cutie-mark. I am also aware that I am the only pony applying for the police department, at least initially. So if you can understand coming from a herd social construct, being thrust into a human society and trying to enter a profession never before held by any Equestrians, let alone a pony, it's not that difficult to see...well...military didn't work out for me. So here I am. Alone among humans. I don't hate you. Just not feeling it, ya know?"

Justin said somberly, "No, you aren't alone, man." He caught what he'd said and shrugged. "I don't care, pony or not, I'm going to use that term. I don't see 'pony', if that's what you are worried about. As soon as we started the first day, we were all made brothers and sisters." He paused a few seconds and then said, "We are your herd. We all bleed blue."

Baker wasn't going to let that sit. "Wait a second. So if he sees himself as separate from humans, then won't that impact his decision making in the field?" She stared at Justin before turning to Civil, "More importantly, would YOU choose a pony over a human?"

"Choose? Choose a pony for what?"

"If it came down to either believing a pony or a human, whatever the scenario, how would you choose?"

Before Civil could respond, a high pitched voice piped up behind him, "Where is your cutie-mark Mister Pony?" He turned around to see a young boy standing there staring up at him. The boy's mother came over from the buffet island when she noticed her ward had wandered off.

"I am very sorry if he is disturbing you. Emmanuel, you know better than to speak to strangers." She scolded the child.

The cadets to Civil's left and right scooted out their chairs but he raised a wing at them. "It's alright. Children are innocent. He's not bothering me. Ma'am, it's okay."

"Kid has a point," Baker said. She leaned over, staring at his flank again. "Aren't adults supposed to have those by now?" When several of the cadets, including Civil, gave her pointed stares, she said, "I...heard. From somewhere." Her face turned red. Civil merely shook his head and turned back to the boy. After reiterating to the mother it was okay, he patted the child's head with a wing and thought for a second.

"What is your favorite food?" Civil finally asked.

"Fruit loops." The boy had the audacity to grin, like that was the greatest answer ever.

"Fruit loops. What about fish or shrimp....or lobster."

After recoiling, the boy said, "Ew that stuff is gross." His mother commented that it was difficult to get him to eat anything that didn't involve sugar. He was a bit on the scrawny side, Civil noted.

"Kid, you have no idea what you are missing....so you wouldn't try any of these things?" He waved a hoof at his plate, still waiting to be feasted upon.

"No way."

Smiling slightly, Civil sat back and tapped his flank. "Then how do you know your most favorite food isn't on that plate, right now? All these flavors just waiting to be discovered by you. So many things to try and you are turned away by them all. We learn to embrace all things untried, lest we miss getting our cutie-mark."

"That stuff looks gross."

Civil sighed. "Close your eyes. Does it look gross now?"

"Yes."

"Huh?"

"I remember what it looks like." The boy opened his eyes. "Yep, still gross."

Narrowing his eyes, Civil looked back at his plate and sighed louder this time. He could tell his food was getting cold. He needed to wrap up this stupid metaphor soon. There were so many good items still there, all sorts of great flavors this child was missing in life. Then he started to feel something, almost like notes from a synthesizer played in reverse, over and over. He nodded. "Guess we're doing this." He didn't fight it this time. Pulling out his chair, he got up and stood next to Emmanuel. "You want to know why I don't have a cutie-mark, fine. But I'm eating while we have this discussion." He reached over and grabbed his fork, deliberately staring at Baker as he shoved the food in his mouth. The child wrinkled his nose at watching the food go in, but was fascinated with the pony, because....you know, it's a pony! The other cadets had stopped eating and were watching him curiously. The sound Civil was feeling had now started reaching everyone's ears. It got louder and patrons in the restaurant started to take notice.

Civil picked from his own plate and placed a small cooked octopus in his mouth. He moaned softly:

"♪ Mm mm mm mm mm...........mm mm mm mm mm......... ♪"

"♪Mm mm mm mm mm...........mm mm mm mm mm......... ♪" He swallowed. Addressing the cadets, he turned the boy to them and sang:

"♪ I messed up 'til now, I didn't hang out with you, and now you are here showing me some good food. ♪"

"♪ I sometimes fall down, I'm not a fan of this blasted ground, ♪" he stomped for emphasis, "♪ and yet there are those like you who keep me sound. ♪" Their heads were bobbing to the music. Wrapping a wing around Emmanuel's shoulders, he drew him along to the buffet islands, stopping at the stack of clean dishes near the rice warmer. Spreading both his wings he pointed at the food around them.

"♪ Ponies try new paths to explore their cutie-marks. ♪" He spun around, snapping up plates with his wings and shoving one into the boy's hands. (I know, cheesy. For the record, I absolutely hate music choreography.)

"♪ Nopony ever learned what their tastes were until they ate. ♪" Walk over to the first line of entrees and used the serving spoons to load up both their plates.

"♪ I won't give up looking for new tastes, once we reach the end, then we start again! ♪" They had reached the end of one island and moved onto the next.

"♪ I won't give up looking for my path, and that means tasting everything. ♪" With a flourish of his wings, he hooved a shrimp into the kids mouth and worked his jaws to chew it up while stepping in front of him, obscuring the mother's view. Then he prayed the boy didn't have a shellfish allergy.

"♪ I won't give up looking for new tastes, if we reach the end...? ♪" He pointed at the boy who had just swallowed what was in his mouth. Emmanuel chimed in, "♪ Then we start again! ♪" They moved to the third and final island.

"♪ I won't give up looking for my path and that is how we get our cutie-marks. ♪" Now the boy was loading up his own plate. Civil winked at the boy's mother and handed her his own plate, grabbed Emmanuel under the arms and hoisted him up into the air. He whispered, "Try the bacon wrapped chili peppers." He proceeded to hover up and slowly cruise the outer edge of the large dining area. Several patrons stood up and raised their arms and sang with Civil:

"♪ Mm mm mm mm mmmm.......Taste everything!....mm mm mm mm mmmm.....Taste everything! ♪"

"♪ Mm mm mm mm mmmm.......Taste everything!....mm mm mm mm mmmm..... ♪"

He glanced down at his passenger and saw only elation across the child's face, bringing a warm glow to Civil's heart. Later in his life he would be able to classify exactly what this feeling was, in a throne room far far away. For now, he noticed they were approaching a full circuit of the room, so he angled back to the table. He nodded at the boy's plate and clicked his tongue to get his attention.

The warm glow could have also been the Mongolian grill flaming up with the beat of the music. The flames were getting dangerously high but were setting up some great thermals to ride on.

"♪ Look at all this food, you filled your plate with fun, now it's time to return, and take a bite! ♪" They came in for a landing several feet short of the table. Emmanuel started to jet forward but Civil grabbed his shirt with his teeth gently and chided:

"♪ Don't rush ahead too fast, don't need to trip so soon, sometimes we take our time, so we can taste our food. ♪" He sat primly in his chair and motioned for Emmanuel to sit next to him. Harris vacated his chair to accommodate, because, you know, Harmony made him do it.

The boy's mother wedged in the comment, "That's what I keep telling you."

"♪ I won't give up looking for my faves, and when I run out of choices, then I search again! ♪" Both boy and pony ate the same things synchronously, shrimp, to lobster bites, to crawfish, to several kinds of chicken.

"♪ No I don't want to leave, I want to taste everything, I wanna taste everything even though I could throw up. ♪" Everyone else looked horrified at the possibility but Emmanuel laughed and continued eating.

"♪ I won't give up looking for my faves, and when I run out of choices, then I search again! ♪"

"♪ No I don't want to leave, I want to taste everything, I wanna taste everything even though I could throw up. ♪"

With a burst of energy after seeing how successful he was with getting the boy to try new things, Civil jumped onto the table and used his fork as a microphone, soloing:

"♪ I'll keep on searching for those new tastes. ♪"

"♪ I'll keep on searching for my cutie-path. ♪" He shook his ass at Baker for extra effect. She sat back, never thinking lunch was going to have this kind of show.

"♪ For my cutie path! ♪"

The percussion and accompanying music dropped away, only the reversed synth sounds played.

"♪ Mm mm mm mm mmmm ♪" He moaned to the left of the room. The patrons over there answered, "♪ Taste everything! ♪"

"♪ mm mm mm mm mmmm ♪" He moaned to the right of the room. The other half answered, "♪ Taste everything! ♪"

"♪ Mm mm mm mm mmmm ♪" He moaned, pointing hooves to both sides. The whole restaurant answered, "♪ Taste everything! ♪" He moaned one last time, settling back down to his hooves, "♪ Mm mm mm mm mmmm..... ♪" The music died away.

He stepped down off the table and gently patted the boy on his head, smiling as the kid happily ate all kinds of things and the final vocal as some guitar strings chimed in. "♪ Taaaaaste Everything. ♪"

As the guitar faded away, the Mongolian styled grill gave out one last burst of fire. Which happened to reach the sprinkler system.

Once all the patrons were fully evacuated and the chaos of the firetrucks settled down, their hostess found Civil and his fellow classmates in the crowd. They were still coming down from the effects of Harmony, so it hadn't dawned on them that he.....might....be the cause that they were dripping wet from the sprinklers.

"Mister Pony, fire system ruin all meals, so no cost. To everyone." She actually smiled. He had been dreading meeting her eyes, but once he heard what she said, he looked up, completely flummoxed.

"I am sorry for ruining your business! I didn't mean to...it just...I need to pay-"

The woman crossed her arms, frowning. "No apology. We turn off grill next time. Have you ever sing that song before?" He blinked, staring back at her. Baker slowly inched over to him and kicked him in the back leg.

He sputtered, "N...no! Not that exact one, no. It just happens sometimes, with ponies." He looked away, still feeling some guilt." The woman knelt down and drew his muzzle back to her with her hand.

"You sing anytime you want eat here. We have fire extinguisher ready and tell chefs pause grill."

She pulled out her phone and showed him a picture she had taken of everyone holding their pose, flames billowing in the background and just a hint of the water droplets in the air. It was almost a perfect moment, except he knew the next several seconds afterward meant significant damage to the establishment. She said, "World needs more of this, more of you." Then she looked past him to the boy and mother standing near by. "More for them."

There he was, still holding the plate and eating away at what was on it. Civil vaguely remembered the mother shielding the child as they fled the scene of tropic thunder raining down on them earlier. The food must have survived and was being happily devoured now. The woman standing over him mouthed the words 'thank you' while placing her hands on the boy's head. He supposed there was a silver lining to all of this.

And naturally that wasn't the end of good outcomes. Despite being delayed getting back to the academy because they had to give statements to the fire department, and despite their soaked state, they did not get punished by their instructors. His newly acquired friends even thanked him, of all things, for having the best lunch ever. The shortest, one of them quipped but he was quickly silenced with a comment having to do with him not needing so much food to begin with. In any case, they were rather glad with their vote to go there and hoped Civil could join them in future lunch events. Civil smiled at that, despite his normal desire to be alone. He supposed he could accommodate them. Afterall, Civil was a good pony.

A bulletin was posted on every classroom's information board the next day. It was a an interdepartmental memorandum. The title was For Public Awareness and the body of the directive consisted mainly this:

All employees for the City of Dallas will take any and all actions to restrain themselves from participating, or inciting, any musically coordinated dance routines until such phenomenon can be properly vetted by the city and police department. Possible repercussions could include lawsuits from restaurants that feel their business may have been impacted negatively while said singing and dancing occurred. Any complaints regarding this directive may be filed up the chain of command to the chief's office.

Civil could hear whispering and chuckling from behind him as the other class members read it, though thankfully none of it seemed spiteful in anyway. Grayson clicked his tongue a few times and made a good impression of Bugs Bunny with, "Gee Doc, we have us some music haters." Civil nodded and turned his wingtip up at the memo, his version of giving it the finger. He wasn't THAT good of a pony. He walked away and sat down in his seat, ready to deal with today's wackiness the academy had to offer.

***

Several more weeks consisted of mainly sitting in class, putting together massive binders of instructional material, and hours of reading passages out of the General Orders and Patrol Standard Operating Procedures. Instructors would read off slides that basically highlighted the same material. Very dry stuff. Occasionally they got breaks to get some coffee, but for the most part it was monotonous. During those breaks a random student from another class would walk up to Civil and ask some basic questions about Equestria or the show. Equestria, he could talk about. The show, which he hadn't seen much of, he mostly shrugged at. While his own class had been a bit cool towards him early on, they were starting to pay more attention to him, either engaging in casual conversation or simply monitoring how others outside their class would treat him.

There was sort of a friendly competition of scores across different instructional modules going on between the classes, from the obstacle course to pop quizzes or physical fitness test results. Each week the winning class would receive another pennant added to their guide-on that was hanging in the gym room, so this promoted esprit des corps within each class, and esprit des equus in Civil's class. With his class having the only resident pony to date, they were starting to feel very proud, and very protective of him. This of course felt good to him from a herd instinct point of view, so he didn't mind at all. Unless something came along to threaten that inclusive mindset.

One day their old name cards were replaced with new ones at each spot where they sat in the classroom. Normally these were used to help various instructors identify who there were calling on. Up to this point their previous cards only had their names, but apparently someone had switched them with new cards, each one sporting a unique number for each cadet. These were the numbers they would have on their badges if they graduated, assigned to them the moment the roster was filled. Civil's class was somewhere in the 12,800 series, starting with 12802 to 12835.

The disconcerting part of all this, Civil's assigned number, and future badge, was 217. Not 12,217...just 217. There was a P at the front of it, too.

"Uh, sir, I have a question about my badge number?" Civil was addressing the class advisor who was sitting at the rear of the class, a Senior Corporal Anderson.

The man nodded his head, "Yes cadet?"

"Why is it not a 12,000 badge number? And why is there a P next to it?" Some of the other cadets compared their cards to each other and Civil. Noting the differences, they voiced their opinions that he might be getting discriminated against. The P was certainly a big flag in that direction. It was heartwarming for the pony to see a vast majority of the class did not sit well with the card situation.

Harris whispered, "That's some USDA grade A bullshit." He seemed to be very angry about it. Civil was willing to get an explanation first before forming a final opinion on the matter.

The man looked around the room silently, gauging their reactions, then at the card Civil was holding up. "You know, that is a good question. Tell you what, let's go speak to the sergeant of the academy. He will want to know your concerns." Anderson stood up and waited by the door. The look on his face was odd. A mix of relief and irritation. Civil didn't know what to make of it and stepped out into the hallway. The class had hushed its individual conversations to watch the interaction. Clearly something was up.

As the two walked down the hall toward the administrative section, Civil couldn't help the sense that they were approaching something sensitive. "Sir, did I say something wrong?"

"No, son. You said the absolute right thing. You think something is wrong, you speak up. Right now it's not my place to say. However..." He slowed down and glanced both ways before muttering, "Someone should have said something long ago about this before you ever had to deal with it." They continued until they were outside a particular doorway. Anderson said, "Go in there and make your case."

Nodding slowly, Civil stepped up to the doorway and knocked on the doorframe twice with his hoof. Sergeant Peel looked up from something he was reading and said, "Come in, cadet. Something I can help you with?"

"Yes sir." Civil stepped in and stood at attention. "I noticed my badge number was different than the others. I asked why and was brought here to get that answer." The sergeant raised his eyebrows and glanced at the doorway. Anderson was leaning against it with his arms crossed. Peel sat back and clasped his hands in front of him.

"Why indeed. Anderson, you mind requesting the LT to stand in on this conference? He will be most interested to hear this." Anderson left and a few seconds later was back with the lieutenant standing next to the desk. The senior officer was dressed in class A's, a very formal uniform for the department. Civil was starting to feel the situation was taking on a life of its own.

"My esteemed cadet here wants to know why his badge number is different than the others, sir. Do we enlighten him and send him back to his class, or do we fix it?"

The lieutenant crossed his arms. He grumbled, "You know my opinion on the matter. I told them it should have been fixed as soon as his application was approved, but they went with this alternate numbering system, citing that our newest recruit would 'enjoy the status of being the first pony in the department.' Is he making an official complaint?"

Peel eyed Civil. "I don't know. Are you making it official?"

Civil blinked at both men and said, "I'm not complaining, per se. Just...why the P?"

Peel responded, "For 'pony.'" He didn't say anything else.

Civil frowned and asked slowly, "Then...if I am P-217, where are all the other 216 ponies ahead of me?"

Anderson said darkly from the doorway, "216 ponies? No. 216 canines? Yes. You see, the last canine officer to graduate the DPD obedience course was given badge number K-216. The P is to designate you as a pony."

Red flashed in Civil's head. Now he could get pissed off. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly. The last few weeks had done a remarkable job to teach him to control his emotions during physical stress. Here, standing in front of these humans, was another matter. Or was it? He doubted they would use this as a test to measure his bearing. So...it was only a test if he wanted it to be.

When he opened his eyes, he said steadily, "I am not an animal. I am a sentient being. Like the guy next to me said, this is bullshit." He realized what he had just said and added, "...s-sir."

Peel leaned forward and said carefully, "Our canines, which are considered police officers and esteemed members of our department, they cannot make a formal protest for how they are treated, unless they bite their handlers. You can. The formal protest part, not the biting. Please, we don't need that right now."

Civil wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or growl. Maybe both.

Peel reached toward the pony with a hand, palm up, "Formal protest, yes?"

Civil nodded curtly, eyeing the hand, "Damn straight sir. I think that having a numbered badge like I am a dog is demeaning and unfair. I want to be like the other officers. The other HUMAN officers. I know I am different. I don't need to remind the whole city of it."

Peel waved his hand at the lieutenant, nodding, "There you go sir. Is that enough?"

The lieutenant nodded and started to walking out, "More than enough. It will take a while to shift everyone else to keep seniority, Mister Patrol. Some cadets are behind you in the alphabet. Might take a few weeks before your new number is generated-"

The sergeant stood up, "Actually, LT, I have a better idea. Let's make this splash a big one." He marched out of the room and down the hallway. The lieutenant stepped aside to let the determined man past, then looked to Anderson, who in turn shrugged. Civil waited until the sergeant came back. With a loud clatter, the man dropped a metal frame on the desk. Civil peered down at it and saw a shiny silver badge mounted inside. The number on it was 10,000.

"There. He can use that. Saves on paperwork and moving everybody around because the 6th floor decided to fuck around with this cadet." The sergeant stared at his supervisor, waiting to be shot down.

The other man scratched his chin in thought, eyes flitting from the frame to the pony, then to the sergeant. "His employee number will stay the same. Seniority will be based on where he sits alphabetically in class, like the others. You know this will piss off people that wanted the 10,000th badge to be commemorated. Nobody was supposed to wear it."

Peel lifted his head. "Fuck em."

The lieutenant grinned. "I shall relay our solution up the chain, with more appropriate wording. I'll handle the backlash, though I doubt they will want any of this aired out in public." He paused, looking wistfully, "Sometimes the media can be a good thing. Rare." He shook his head. "Trying to pass off our first pony as a...heh, dare I say, a dog and pony show. Yeah, that would have incited any number of advocacy groups to camp out in front of council members' yards. Command will avoid that at any cost and eat this."

He looked at Civil. "On behalf of the department, I apologize if you felt disparaged in any way because of the insensitive nature of our badge numbering process. Anything else, Eli?" The sergeant shook his head. "Then I leave you to it." The man left.

Peel sat back down. Anderson stepped into the room. As Civil reached out to the badge, the sergeant leaned forward and took it. "Not yet, cadet. You earn this on graduation. The badge number...you earned that the moment you signed up. Feel free to fix your card." He rubbed at the framed glass, wiping some dust off of it, then nudged the name card back to the pony across the desk. "Recommend you find the fattest magic marker and make it loud and proud." He chuckled to himself. "Magic. Have to rethink a shit load of things these days."

Civil had heard the department made a big ceremony of pumping out its 10,000th officer back in when it happened, which wasn't but a couple of years ago. Technically the 10,000th officer ended up as 10,001 because they intentionally held onto this badge to stick on a wall. He was set against being treated like a dog...yet, he understood tradition and cultures, a thing he picked up in Airforce and the Guard.

"Sir...I can wait for the next badge number. I don't need to be number 10,000."

"Nonsense," Peel replied. "This department screwed up, so instead of a badge hanging around collecting dust at this academy, the prestigious 10,000th badge will belong to our first ever pony." He tilted his head and continued, "IF...you graduate. Also, if you plan on quitting, I'll take it back right now. Do you plan to quit?"

Civil shook his head, "Not a chance, sir."

Peel grinned, "That's what I like to hear. Anderson, you can head back with him. OH! One more thing." Civil paused from half turning. "Your clothing size and shape. While we don't have our own pony tailor, we may have to modify some non-human articles of clothing." He winced slightly, "Canine articles. It's only temporary until we get a dedicated pony tailor or somebody trained up at the quartermaster. I ask that you be patient during this process. We are reaching out to the Army who seem to employ ponies...but, since we have our own contractors, we might have to use some unconventional means to equip you in the meantime. You might need to swallow your pride a little for officer safety, namely weapons and armor. Can you do that?"

Civil had no idea what the sergeant was talking about...unless....... He asked, "As long as it doesn't say K-9 on any of it, I'll deal with it."

The sergeant nodded, "I will personally inspect every item before you get it. Splendid."

As Civil and his advisor walked back to the classroom, Civil looked up and asked, "This was a race thing, wasn't it? You were pissed about the matter. " Civil noted that Anderson was black, as was the sergeant earlier, where the lieutenant of the academy was white. While he didn't see how any of them had individually treated him differently, Civil was starting to get a vibe that there were undercurrents in the department that he might need to start paying more attention to.

Anderson nodded. "We were briefed about how to treat you, like you are a regular officer, no animal jokes, that kind of stuff. But let's face it, you are a pony, not a human. Some things we can't control, like how you walk, your difference in eyesight ability...that you can just fly or hover in place. But I'll be damned if we are going to blatantly let something like that badge shit slide on by. Problem is, a lot of this is only disparaging if you perceive it to be. And, you are the only pony around. We can't take offense for you."

Civil walked for a little while in silence. Before they reached the classroom, which was still humming with a few conversations inside, Civil used the noise to cover his voice. "Senior Corp, is the department treating people differently?"

Anderson stopped and sighed, pondering the question. He stated, "I would like to believe that it treats all of us the same. Despite today's issue, the department generally addresses these kinds of things pretty quickly. That said...if the department likes you, it will keep you. If it does not like you, it will find every damn thing in the book to fire you with."

His voice went gravelly as he said, "Don't give them a reason, Civil. Do things by the book and there is nothing they can do to you." He smiled slightly and added, "I know, not the best answer. And as a pony, I have no idea what you will have to face, but the department is obligated to treat you as fairly as anyone else to the letter of the law and their own policies. I would suggest reading up on all things regarding your rights as an employee and citizen. You will need it if you care about all this."

Civil grumbled to himself, "Great. I hate politics. I don't care what color it comes in."

The senior corporal chuckled, "I hate politics too. Your best bet is to not promote past the rank of sergeant, then. After that, it gets messy for lieutenant on." He waved his hand to the doorway. "Go on, get back into class. The next instructor should be here in a few." Civil nodded and walked in.

***

"Civil, go to the front office. Now." It had only been a few days since the whole badge affair.

The pegasus pushed his chair back to stretch after another severely boring death by PowerPoint. This time it was...YES! More department policies. While it was only a few days later, that was a voluntary complaint. This was an involuntary summons. So, naturally the class did the whole 'oooooh' routine, typical high school garbage when somepony got called out. Sort of. The oooh's had some nervous energy behind them. His table buddy, Harris, raised an eyebrow at him. "Gee, Civil. They just love you down at the principal's office. I thought they promised to treat you the same now."

Shrugging at him, the pony pushed his chair back in. Not doing that would get their class smoked. Like, a half hour of grueling exercise outside. He muttered, "I can honestly say I have no idea what I did or didn't do, this time. At any rate, they can make a movie called 'Civil Does Dallas' and I can live off the proceeds before they ever commission me." He hitched his voice low. " 'In a world, where Civil gets screwed.......and that's about it. Civil gets screwed.' So whatever." Some of the class laughed, though it was a bit forced. Any one of them getting called out also meant the class getting smoked later.

Not that hazing in and of itself was the end all be all of training, it was not that different than when Civil had trained in the Royal Guard. Dealing with mistakes through exercise hardened the mind, and emotions. It taught cadets to put aside their emotions when getting punished and to deal with the task in front of them. He could almost agree that this would help police officers having to endure more than the average citizen on a daily basis once they were on the streets.

Almost. A lot of what went on at the academy was still asinine, in his opinion.

Stepping out in the hallway, he looked up at his coordinator. The man simply pointed and walked into the class, leaving Civil alone. Huh, he was to proceed by himself. Okay. He steeled himself for yet another lecture and slowly made his way down the long corridor.

Different office and classroom sounds drifted to his sensitive ears as he passed various doorways. Lectures, verbal beratings, soft discussions about home life problems or random politics were almost a cacophony, but he had learned to block out much of what he heard over the years as a pony back in Equestria...unless something caught his interest. The sounds of one particular conversation that drifted down the hall certainly did. It was coming from the direction he was headed, and it carried a very heavy Midwest accent.

"Hahahahah oofta, oh noooo no. There is no way I could ship these out in such a large supply! See, the gemstones alone only come into the country every two and a half years, doncha know."

Civil knew that voice, mainly from YouTube. Were they about to hire another pony? Was this a social experiment that he was suckered into, and now they went and hired somepony semi-famous?

Could the city of Dallas not only stomach him as a police officer but also endure the likes of-

"Kerfuffle!" Civil exclaimed, finally turning the corner into the front office area and spotting the daiquiri ice blue pegasus.

"ME! Spelled with two f's for a double fuh!" She tried to hold a straight face, then broke down into several raspberries of laughter.

"Seriously, Kerf?" Civil asked. It was one thing to see a named pony on youtube. Quite another to see said named pony playing it up in pony. In person. whatever :P

"Kerf!" Her voice broke as she inhaled with a high pitch whine. "I like that. Yaw, Hasbro only gave me less than an episode of air time, doncha knooow. Have to play it up." She grinned and held her hoof up to the side of her muzzle, whispering, "They pay me every time I say 'doncha know'."

Civil was about to keep his stunned look before he deadpanned at her and said, "Bullshit." She started giggling and he shook his head. "Actually I never saw that episode."

"Oofta! You need to! Anywhooo, are you the pony I am here for?"

Civil blinked and turned his head to see Sergeant Peel there. "Uh, am I? "

"Yes, you are," the man replied.

"Yes I am," Civil directed at Kerfuffle, shrugging. Why should he have a fucking clue. Nobody ever tells him shit.

"Yes you are!" Kurfuffle blurted out, then chuckled. "I should start talking about why I am here. Heh."

Her voice was screechy in the upper register, but pleasantly mid western enough to border on cute when it was nice and deep. Almost teeth rottingly cute. Civil didn't exactly do cute. That's when he noticed her rear left leg. The gilded bejeweled mechanical leg.

She glanced down at it and grinned. "Yaw there she is, ol kicker herself. Aaaand that's why I am here. To give you one."

"Huh?I" Civil exclaimed, taking a step back. "I don't exactly need one." He glanced down at his legs, hoping they weren't suggesting he...augment himself by losing limbs. There was social experimentation, and then there was screw you I'm goin home! To change the subject he said, "Actually I thought you might be joining DPD, the reason you are here."

"Spbtbttb no! I do accessories. I couldn't do law enforcement...unless it was the fashion police!" She chuckled at her own joke, then noticed she was the only one laughing. "Eeeeeeh, somepony mentioned a certain pony needed one of my special devices, so here I am! Ya know, to do special stuff with?"

Civil's eyes went wide, his ears pinking up. Noticing Civil's complete lack of self control, the sergeant cleared his throat and said slowly, "Hooves fall short where fingers are required, such as pulling the trigger." He tapped his sidearm for emphasis.

Civil snorted and shook out his feathers. "Ah, yes. Stuff." Holy shitballs, Batman, give me a heads up. Is that too much to ask, he thought to himself.

Kerfuffle added, "Fingers can't kick in a door. Or withstand burning concrete. Or manipulate materials to make specialized accessories! Trust me," she shook her back leg, "I've had to learn more about what I am capable of than what I can't do."

He felt slightly admonished for thinking...nevermind.

"Anywhooo," Kerfuffle continued, "it's all about overcoming obstacles. This should help." Her wing slid over a large flat dark brown oak box and opened the lid. In it was a black metal device that looked like a club with jewels studded here and there all over it. The gems looked to be rubies and sapphires. "A one of a kind Kerfuffle Kustom. That's what it's called. The Kerfuffle Kustom! Spelled with two k' for a double kuh." Civil looked like he was about to be ill from the overdose of sugar. She beamed at him and looked back to the sergeant. "Like I was saying, we can't mass produce these yet due to limited materials. What we can produce, we do with quality."

"Can it fit different grips?" Peel asked.

"Oh, no problem! Press this jewel while touching the object you want to hold, and the metal temporarily liquefies to mold to the new configuration. Then impulses from the muscles along the foreleg and hoof impart a...something something magic which allows the small segments at the end to move, similar to fingers. It's a unicorn thing, the gemstones. I just make sure it all goes together just right, not to mention it goes to the right pony."

Civil stared at the object. Artifice magic was more of a blacksmith or goldsmith thing, not a field he was very knowledgeable in, yet he saw the genius behind this device. It would have taken several trade craft skills, combined with gemstone magic and enchantments to merge metal and crystalline...this was a work of art.

"...Wow," Civil stammered out. "Kerfuffle, I don't know what to say."

She positively blushed from head to hoof. "Every pony deserves an accessory that screams them. Let's put this on and see how it screams your name!"

And just like that, the somber nature of the mood shattered into the realm of cringe. Civil's cheeks turned red as he realized she had no idea what she was saying while she grinned the entire time. He awkwardly walked to the desk and picked up the device. With her help, he was able to attach it to the inside of his right leg, a few straps of leather snapping into place. He moved it around to get used to the extra weight. It was surprisingly lighter than it looked.

The sergeant placed an aluminum mold of a Sig Sauer P226 in front of him. "We will be issuing duty belts and equipment this week, which is why we had her fly in with this prosthesis. Until we are certain you won't be shooting yourselves, you will all receive one of these, a dummy handgun for your holster. It will be used in all scenarios here at the academy until further notice, unless we are running R.B.T" That was reality based training, with simunitions. "Try it."

On instinct he tried to pick up the gun mold with his hoof. The prosthesis and his hoof both seemed to grasp the mold. He tried to pull it off the prosthesis with the same leg hoof, then the other hoof. This was not going well at all.

"Oh, nooo no no, not like that," Kerfuffle directed him. "Try just letting go. With your hoof."

Not really getting what she was saying, he let go. The mold clanged onto the desk. The sergeant muttered, "I assume it needs to be calibrated?"

"Yah, that's it. Just press that gemstone there as you press against the back of the object you wish to manipulate."

Civil sighed in frustration and did as he was told. He pushed the sapphire she was pointing at. The blunt end of the device then flowed forward until it curved around the gun handle and the trigger guard. Startled he let go with his hoof. The pseudo fingers opened up, releasing the mold. Tentatively he reached forward and was able to pick up the mold again. Pretending to pull the trigger, he could see a small portion of the metal move, though the fake trigger didn't budge since the aluminum was one solid piece. Aluminium. whatever. :P

The sergeant stared, transfixed at the device. "Incredible. This could work for humans, too, right?"

"Oooh, most definitely. The applications for this accessory are endless! Eh, supplies, on the other hoof...."

The man nodded, "Yes. The federal government would definitely contract these out through the V.A. if it meant getting soldiers back out into the field."

Kerfuffle chuckled nervously, looking away slightly. "I don't know if we want to supply the military just yet. I was willing to help a former Royal Guard cause...ya know...I am familiar with pony anatomy....." She was really uncomfortable where this was going.

Civil came to her rescue and said, "Regardless where you send your business, you have a VERY happy customer right here, Kerfuffle."

She absolutely glowed with the approval. "REAALLY!?! Thankyou! I am so happy I got to accessorize...uh....spbpt!" She lowered her voice and said, "I never got your name!"

He smiled and offered his hoof. "Civil Patrol, ma'am!"

She raised her hoof to his, "I'm Kerfuffle, spelled with two f's for a-"

He swiftly put his wingtip up to her muzzle. While a hoof would have been easier and safer for his wings, by pegasus standards, a hoof was considered rude while a wing was more polite, yet personal. Unicorns using magic was the opposite since magicking another pony was unfair if they were not unicorns, so the hoof was personal and polite for them, showing an investment in motion and physical energy. Earth ponies.....they did earth pony things, so he didn't give a rat's ass what they considered the opposite of blunt, rude, arduous...yeah, the earth pony way.

"I'm sorry, Kerf. I can't take another Kerf joke." She chuckled hoarsely and playfully knocked his wing away.

"Oh hey I gotcha there!"

Before they could even think of getting sidetracked on another topic, the sergeant gently reminded Civil that if he didn't wrap this up and get back to class, she would get to witness his entire class demonstrating how to run laps around the track while Miss Kerfuffle made her way back to her home town. Civil thanked her again and she left him her phone number, just in case there were any issues with the Kerfuffle Kustom. Walking back to class, he briefly thought about possibly calling for other than official business...then thought better of it. While she was very pleasant and upbeat, she was way too free spirited for his taste. On top of which...not yet. He didn't feel his so-called job was secure enough to make a phone call to a certain mare out in west Texas.

***

Lights were strobing in the dark stairwell, alarm klaxons were going off and gunshots could be heard echoing from upstairs. Civil had only seconds to reach the doors before all the noises started. He drew his sidearm, yanked open the doorway and rolled with it to the other side of the door frame, waiting. No shots came out. He pied the doorway with his flashlight attachment on and peered up. Then he went in, taking the steps two at a time until he reached upstairs.

"End EX!"

The flashing lights stayed on and the noises stopped. The redshirted instructor stepped out and nodded. "Good. Sometimes we can't form up as a squad outside and have to punch in. Seconds save lives. Ideally a few of you will arrive and can cover each other. But not always.

Civil looked around. He was the fourth one up the stairs. The other three cadets were nearby, watching. They all, Civil included, were wearing a protective soft armor chest plate, the kind someone playing paintball or airsoft would wear. They all had paintball masks on, too, though his was modified to fit his pony-shaped head. He still felt it closed in his eyesight, given the limited vision he now had. The lens tended to fog up too.

They were all on the second floor of an old rundown school in the center of Dallas. The department used this building to train in from time to time. He spotted a few spent rounds here and there, shell casings modified to fire simunitions. They were like plastic bullets filled with a chalky paint. Some of the casings looked like they were used in rifles. While he and his fellow classmates used 9mm rounds, limited to 3 rounds a magazine, the spent rifle rounds meant SWAT also frequented this place.

"Let's say you have at least four people in place, five ideally, you would then form up in a diamond pattern and proceed down the hallway. When you reach a doorway, that side will peel off two, the side and rear, to clear the room. If you find something you have to deal with, go in while the two outside post up on the doorway to cover. Then continue on. A supervisor would direct from the center, but it is doable with four, such as we have right now. Form up."

They formed into the diamond shape. Civil was on the right.

"Hey Milestone, try not to outrun us this time." Harris was a real riot. Civil smirked at him.

"Civ or Civil, please."

"Uh huh, whatever Milestone." Civil shook his head and took up position before they started moving slowly. He could hear everyone's heavy breathing in their masks, his being the loudest.

A couple more weeks had passed since he'd received his magical device...along with a new nickname. The class had gone through a brief period where they were exploring nicknames and callsigns. Because, that was the cool shit to do. Unfortunately, his Milestone nickname was the only one anybody ever bothered using afterwards. One cadet was called Flares for about two days, on account of his suggesting that flares be set up to form a perimeter around an accident where a gasoline tanker had crashed into a set of gas station pumps.

It was a session during class where the instructor was giving out scenarios and calling on the students to come up with proper response actions. The cadet in the back raise his hand, offered his brilliant idea, bam 'Flares.' For two days, because said cadet actually whined to the class coordinator about being called a derogatory name like Flares. Gee wiz, he was the assmonkey who came up with the suggestion for nicknames in the first place. Civil had seen a similar practice in Air Force, mostly among the pilots in AWACS. A callsign or nickname was never supposed to be cool and most of the time marked a major screw up in a given person's career. It was also supposed to be an aviator thing, yet the mission crew in the back were all giving each other callsigns too. What a bunch of....sigh, he had to remind himself he was done with that life. Whatever.

While the practice of nicknaming was largely quashed by Flares in their class, somehow the name Milestone still stuck. How did he end up with that name? It stuck the instant the other cadets found out Civil's badge was changed to 10,000. You know, because the department hit a milestone with the 10,000th badge.

An alternate name fielded was Binary, on account of the 1 and 0's, for binary code. Fuck that, he wasn't going to be called bi-anything. By anybody.

The approached an intersection and Civil eased up to the wall, peeked the corner, saw no movement and gestured the other cadets with his wing. He whispered, "Clear."

The other three and Civil wheeled around the corner in a tight diamond formation, each with their simunition gun pointed outward. He knew he was breathing too quickly and was causing the foggy lens issue himself, so he tried slowing his respiration. They had made it past a few doorways when there were loud bangs down at the end of the hallway. As a group they pushed into the nearest doorway for cover and observed a man with a rifle duck into a classroom.

The instructor yelled, "Alright, threat is not in sight, push the objective. GO GO GO!"

As a group they ran down the hallway. This time Civil paced with the others and did not outrun them. They signaled to each other to stack up on one side of the doorway, knowing that if any crossed the fatal funnel, the could take shots from inside the room.

The instructor jogged with them and said, "Okay, pause ex. This is the situation. You have a potential active shooter inside, along with several people. You don't know where he is inside, or anybody else for that matter. One of you will have to be the rabbit and run in to draw his fire. The rest pile in and shoot from the doorway. Be mindful of your targets. Who is the rabbit?"

As one, they all looked at Civil.

He turned his head and clenched his jaw. "Yeah, sure. I suppose I can outrun you all anyway." He glanced at the instructor. "Don't suppose I can use my wings?"

The redshirt barked a short laugh and said, "Not this time, flyboy."

Civil shook out his wings and held up his sidearm with the prosthesis, careful not to initiate the trigger pulling part of it. "Figures. Just run in and shoot, stop halfway and shoot, what?"

"Ideally you run to the far end then stop and shoot while the others come in a second after you. However, if you think you have a shot during the run, go for it."

The pegasus nodded and looked back at the others, "Ready?" The nodded.

The instructor leaned in and raised his voice, "We are unpausing the ex and going live. Action!"

Civil ran in as fast as he could, transitioning to a three-legged gallop while he raised his sidearm. Time seemed to slow down for him. In a split second, he noticed there were at least three or four rows of flat human silhouettes behind desks like a classic school classroom setting, except they were all standing. In the back he noticed a single living male human with his left arm raised and something in his hand. As he ran, the front row slid by, while the second row slid at a slow rate, and the third even slower than that. He saw a clear view once, twice, and at the third window of opportunity he fired once before making it to the end of the classroom. By that time the others behind him had piled in and fired their own shots, he had made it to the other side of the room. The man fell to the floor.

"End EX!" The instructor yelled.

The actor in the back got up and approached them. He pulled off his mask and rubbed his neck. He asked, "Did you see what I was holding in my hand?" He held up what looked like a switch. Wrapped around his chest were a bunch of red street flares and wires meant to simulate an explosive vest.

Civil shook his head, "No sir. I thought it was either a grenade or something very bad, so when I had a clear view, I shot."

The man nodded and looked at the instructor. "He got me in the neck at a full run before anybody else had come through that door. I didn't immediately go down because I wanted the others to take part in the exercise." The instructor nodded as though nothing special had happened, but clearly the actor and the now very impressed cadets thought otherwise. Civil couldn't help but enjoy the warm boost to his ego, though it was tinged with the nervous jittery energy of adrenaline still coursing through him. He described what he experienced, the slow down, the object in the man's hand, and the failure of seeing the explosive vest.

The instructor stated, "All perfectly normal. You just searched a whole school, ran to a room with a shooter and hostages, came in expecting a firearm and saw something else, all while making split-second decisions. What you will all experience in your career is tunnel vision, time dilation, laser focusing of some senses while higher level thinking goes out the window. Recognize these physiological changes for what they are now you are better experienced to deal with them in the field. We help each other, we work as a team, and we recognize our own weaknesses so that hopefully you don't miss key details when the shit hits the fan. Good shooting all, good insertion. I'd say this was a success."

The day progressed with more building search techniques, avoiding the fatal funnel in doorways, not leaning against a wall in case a skipped round catches you in the face. They broke for lunch and continued for the rest of the day.

On the last day of the week the class reported to the Dallas Firearms Training Facility, otherwise known as the DPD shooting range. This was the day they were to receive their real firearms.

***

When they walked into the classroom at the range, a large sign had four rules written in bold letters.

=Treat all guns as if they are loaded.=

=Do not point at anyone or anything unless you intend to fire.=

=Keep your finger off the trigger and outside the trigger guard at all times until you are ready to fire.=

=When on target, verify that your background is clear of unintended targets.=

They were introduced to their range instructors and were told to sit down. Each cadet had a blue case in front of them, which they were told to open. Civil found himself staring down at a Sig Sauer P226. A while back they had been given the option of either choosing a Sig or a Glock. After having done some research, he had opted for the Sig. Just something about trusting his delicate hooves to metal more so than plastic.

The class went through all the gun safety rules and then the operations of their firearms. Civil found that he could break down and manipulate each part of the gun without changing the configuration of his prosthesis, but when it came to dry firing, he was forced to press the gem and align the metal to the grip and trigger spacing. After that, it was easy to pull the trigger, rack the slide with his off-hoof and pull the trigger again. They did this countless times until the instructors were satisfied everyone had that down. Then they went up to the range. They all had their duty belts on, magazine holders, and holstered guns. They were issued ear and eye protection and told to load up their magazines but keep them outside the gun for now. Civil started to stress over this part until he found the prothesis could easily hold the magazine while his off-hoof just barely gripped the individual bullets to push into the magazines. The other cadets held handfuls while he could only work one bullet at a time, but fuckit he was doing his best.

They were instructed to stand at the ready line, guns holstered while the instructors set up their paper targets. Each target was placed in a metal frame that could turn by remote control from the tower overseeing the line behind them. Once the instructors were safely behind the cadets, the speaker from the tower called out, "Shooters, step up to the line and make ready your sidearm. Load magazines, cycle your rack once and holster up." They all did so. Once the last cadet was done, all instructors had their arms up to signal the tower.

"Alright shooters, watch your targets."

After a few seconds, the targets turned to the firing line. Most of the cadets drew their guns and fired. Some of the cadets had trouble drawing, or hitting their targets. Just about all of the issues were user error.

After the third time the targets turned away from them, Lee who was standing next to Civil continued his complaining. He had been doing it since the start of the training course. This time he had fired his last round after the target was side on. Meaning he missed. "This piece of shit gun, I swear it's messing with me." He glanced at Civil for a second. The pegasus had been very quick in his shooting. While the instructors had repeatedly told them 'Smooth is Fast', Civil's shooting had been smooth AND fast, ending nearly before everybody else on the line was halfway done. Lee had certainly noticed. He looked at his own gun in his two-handed grip.

"That's bullshit. They let you fire with one hand all the time just because you need three legs to stand on." Clearly his method of dealing with stress was to attack the innocent. Civil shrugged and kept looking forward. One of the range instructors stepped up to him.

"Son, holster your weapon." Lee holstered it as ordered, grumbling the whole time as he fiddled it back in. When the trainer stepped closer and asked if there was an issue, the cadet replied with, "Yes sir. That last shot was weird, like there was a delay or somethin. I know I'm not a perfect shot or quick, but there's something wrong with this thing."

The instructor gave out a sharp whistle and made a circular motion with his hand. All the other trainers jogged over and huddled up around the first one. He stepped forward and pressed the magazine catch to extract the magazine from Lee's gun without unholstering it. They spent several minutes taking out the remaining rounds and eyeing them, as well as asking each other if any cadets had similar issues on the line. Everyone shook their heads. Once they were sure it was a fluke, the original trainer grabbed a round from his pocket and inserted it into the magazine, then returned the mag to its home in Lee's gun on his belt.

The instructor yelled, "Going live!" He lowered his voice and said, "This is from the drawn position, so draw your weapon." Lee did as he was told. The instructor signaled the guardhouse. Another trainer in the house called out the next set of instructions over the bull horn.

"You will shoot five rounds from the drawn position. Five rounds only. Shooters, watch your targets."

Shrieks from the ungreased gears and the movement of turning targets caused the line to draw their weapons and open fire again. While everyone was attempting to improve their aim by slowly squeezing off rounds, Civil locked his foreleg and had a fairly easy time staying on target. He shot all five of his rounds quickly as each recoil absorbed into his shoulder. This was quite different from his classmates' guns lifting slightly after each shot. Lee may have had a point about Civil having an advantage due to his leg device. Then again, this was all to protect his life and the lives of his fellow officers and citizens, so he didn't let it bother him. The instructor started to walk away when Lee fired the first few shots without issue.

Civil was on his last magazine, so when the slide locked back he lowered his foreleg slightly and slowly moved it left and right to simulate the 'scan' technique that had been drilled into them earlier that day. Another click and a swear next to him alerted Civil that his neighbor once again experienced something amiss with his gun.

Amiss. Civil's right ear twitched, an odd sound reaching it through the ear protection. At the same time, the classmate on his left had also emptied his mag, released the catch as though to practice his reload sequence, then must of realized they were all on their last magazine and bent down to retrieve the magazine. That was a no-no since you were supposed to leave all dropped magazines on the ground until the line was safe.

It was Civil's eye-spacing that allowed him to witness both that and Lee's turning toward him with his gun lowered, but the slide was not in the rear position. Coupled with the faint hissing sound, something clicked in his memory, something real stupid he did back when he was a human kid. He had some old fireworks and thought it would be cool to light a firecracker and throw it. He had watched the wick fizzle at the tip for a few seconds, then it burned down very quick. He had just enough time to reach back in an attempt to throw it before it went off, deafening him for a few minutes and numbing his fingers. Thank God it was just a black cat.

He heard that same hissing, and Lee's disregard for where to point his gun had it pointing right at his classmate who was bending down made Civil act. In an instant, he yelled "NO!" dropped his gun and spun to his left, wings flaring out when Lee's gun went off. Later he couldn't explain it to the instructors other than possibly some instinct to display plumage like a bird in a show of surprise to a potential enemy. He had never done it consciously in the past, especially with how sensitive wings on a pegasus were, and his thoughts were only for the cadet that was bending down.

He also ended up smacking the cadet officer on the other side of him.

When asked which way the gun was pointed when it went off, Civil and both the cadets stated something to the effect that they thought it was pointed down range. Civil had heard the slow burn of a bullet and panicked. In reality he knew deep down he'd had an unusual desire to protect that other cadet. He felt bad because he couldn't even remember the guy's name, yet for a brief instant he had connected with him on some basic fundamental level. It wasn't even a conscious thought...more like a feeling. He couldn't explain any of this lest he openly admit that Lee had shot at the other cadet by accident. He didn't want anybody to get in trouble, especially over crap ammo from Remington.

As it was, range safety was reiterated that day ad nauseum, laps were run WITH nauseum and eventually vomiting, and many muscles were worn out before anybody was allowed to touch their gun again. While two instructors were tapped to oversee the class punishment, the rest of the redshirts were hauling out pallets of ammo they now considered bad, on account of it possibly being compromised by moisture.

Civil was so tired that he had to ask for a ride to the academy at the end of the day.

Back in the locker room, Civil was twitching his wing a lot more than usual. It got to the point of direct irritation, so he twisted his head around to muzzle at his wing and found a primary feather bent halfway down its vane. Due to its shape, it was not lining up with the other feathers and was being pushed out of alignment, which meant the root was twisting. Hence the irritation. Groaning, he nibbled at it gently until it came away, along with a bit of blood dabbed on the root.

"Fuck, are you alright?" His buddy next to him had some mild shock on his face, seeing the blood. Chris was his name. Christopher, he preferred.

Civil let the feather drop to the bench and glanced back it his wing, flexing it a little. "Yeah, just a bent primary. Normally when a feather is ready to fall out, there is not so much blood, but a damaged one will do that. Especially when it GETS SHOT OFF!" He deliberately raised his voice, looking at the top of the lockers behind him.

"I SAID I WAS SORRY! FUCK ALREADY!" Lee's voice floated over the row of lockers.

Chris said, "Is that going to mess up your flying?" Fuckit, his name was going to be Chris unless Civil had to say it out loud.

The pegasus shrugged and used a wingtip to grab the feather. He put it on the top shelf in his locker. "Not a lot. There will be some adjustment until a new one grows in. It only gets bad in high winds, then the split airflow across the wing has to be evened out with the other....wing...." He saw his friend's eyes start to glaze a little, so he stopped talking and simply said, "I'll deal with it."

Chris shook his head, "Sorry. All that flying stuff is literally over my head. But cool that you are okay. If you needed a ride somewhere, you'd be covered."

Nodding his head, Civil held out his hoof to him. "Thanks. I mean it. Flying is life to a pegasus." Chris nodded and fist bumped him.

"So...I don't suppose I could keep that-"

"No," Civil answered bluntly.

Chris stiffened a little. "Sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

Civil sighed, "No, you didn't offend me. I guess I'm not used to people and their pony knowledge." He flexed his wings and glanced up at the feather sitting on the shelf. "We believe that our soul resides in our wings, or part of it anyway. Each feather we lose, is a piece of us. So, we save them. It's kind of a superstition more than a proven fact. Sometimes our funeral services involve gathering all the feathers together with our body. On rare occasions, we may give them away to those we are intimately familiar with." That last part had Civil's cheeks warming slightly.

Chris already had his hand up and waved it, "Yeah, that's okay. Wow, I had no idea."

Civil shook his head, "Not many people do." He paused and thought about it. "You know...maybe that's part of why they hired me. How else is anybody supposed to learn about this stuff?"

Another cadet was on his way out when he paused, regarding them both. "Hey Civil, you might want to pass that on to the instructors. If we are supposed to learn how to deal with other ponies or flying species, do all of you flying types have that practice? Or any other...stuff like it?"

Civil sat back and thought. How much did he really know about other cultures? Did he even understand his own? He sighed. As if he didn't have enough homework and studying to do.

***

Tired after being out in the sun all day at the range, he finally made it home and walked in like a zombie, staring down at his hooves as he went. So much like a zombie he nearly tripped over Liberty who was sitting in the hallway staring at him. He stopped quickly when his hooves bumped into her and he looked up slightly. "Oh, hey Libs. Watcha want?"

She slid two papers forward on the hallway tiles. They were his last two paychecks from the City of Dallas. "You are getting paid now, right?" He nodded and raised an eyebrow. "Sooooo, you are employed, right?" It took a few seconds before he groaned and tried to walk around her.

"Not this again. I've had a long exhausting week." Before he could get past she immediately hopped in front of him, sitting her rump down as if not about to budge, even if a tidal wave were coming. He idly thought about simply using his height to walk over her, but decided against it.

"Yes this again, Civ! I mean it, you need to call her. Girls don't like being ignored." This time he leaned left and then juked right, causing her to scrabble on the tiles while he clipclopped to the living room and flopped down onto the couch. Liberty followed and planted herself right next to him, glaring at his smirk. "I don't like being ignored!"

"I'm not ignoring you. I'm just not responding," he muttered tiredly.

"That's ignoring. Quit being a dick and call her already. You said once you got a job, you would. Come on, don't fuck this up."

"Liberty! Language!" Karen's voice rang out from upstairs. Their mother was using the computer on the second floor and the front foyer opened up to the second floor and the stair balcony. All noise could be heard in the house no matter where you were.

"Yes mother, I know!" Liberty responded with annoyance. Equally perturbed, she addressed Civil. "Well?"

"Well what?"

Glower. "You know what."

"Will you leave me alone?"

"Today, yes."

He stared at the filly, her grin of impending triumph probably the cause of the headache he was starting to get. He sighed. "Fine, I'll do it-"

"YES!"

"-after dinner," he finished. Liberty glowered at him again but chose not to press the issue. A win was a win until you unwon it. She pranced away and hopped up onto the easy chair where their father usually watched television.

Civil watched her for a time until she glanced at him, the controller held up in her hoof as she was about to unpause her show.

"What?"

The stallion's eyes flicked to her cutie mark briefly. The mare holding up the torch while grasping a tablet and clothed in a toga and crown. "Is this part of that 'follow-my-cutie-mark' stuff you saw on the internet?"

She sniffed once and quipped, "I'm trying to free you from your 'stick-up-you-ass' stuff. YES MOM, I KNOW!" Karen yelled down a thankyou to her daughter, more for not having to remind her than anything else. Wasn't like Liberty was actually watching her mouth in the first place. Civil's eye twitched.

Liberty un-paused what she was watching. It was the My Little Pony series. He groaned and rolled over, his back to the TV.

"Oi, this is required watching." Liberty clacked her hooves together. "Twilight Velvet said so. Remember?" Civil muttered some choice things about the cringey training videos. Liberty replied, "I'm going to choose not to hear what you just said and shame on you for using such language." He laughed sharply at the hypocrisy of it all and settled into a short nap before dinner was ready. Liberty mentioned something about them calling out for Chinese food but Civil's interest lay in the more important subject of sleeping. He'd need it if he was about to tackle a phone call to the likes of Hot Pink. Just the thought of it already made him tired.

It wasn't that he didn't like her, far from it. He just sucked at talking to girls.

And...he was a little scared. Not that she would reject him. Even a dense stallion such as he could read the signs. No, he was scared she was ready to push ahead far faster than he was willing to go. He wanted to do this right, which meant slow. Smooth is fast might work for shooting, but smooth is slow as fucking hell felt more his speed when it came to mares. Karen had never really sat down with him and explained how girls ticked when he was a human, and he certainly never had that conversation with Liberty back in Equestria. That left him with his only source of marely knowledge being a filly who was hellbent on messing with him on a good day and guilt tripping him every other day.

He swallowed and tried to get comfortable for his nap. No wonder he was dreading the phone call.

"So how was your sister's birthday party? I forgot to ask," she said quietly.

He rolled back over and stared at her blankly. "....talking in the third person now?"

"Your other sister."

"..."

"The one you promised, from the plane?"

Civil felt the blood drain out of his face. With all the stuff that happened on the trip, Liberty's transformation, Hot Pink, the visit to the pony town, the new job....

As he sat in cold silence, the words of his promise digging into him like so many Roman knives of betrayal, Liberty said, "Don't worry. It's next week." She went back to watching TV. He stared at her. Liberty's eyes slid over to him after a few minutes of his staring. "In case you wanted to know. Or go. Or both." Back to TV.

He stammered out, "You...you spoke to her?"

She shrugged. "Text. Pretty simple. Ya know, poke at the phone, send message. Let a little girl know you are still alive." So many questions ran through his mind, hampered by the embarrassment that his sister had to save his tail in yet another faux pas. She sighed in exasperation. How could her brother/son survive all this and be absolutely flummoxed by the fairer sex?

"I explained we went through a very traumatic crisis, something similar to her tragedy, and that her brave loyal new brother would write to her as soon as he could. You have been keeping up with your writing, yes?"

When he finally found his voice he said, "Sort of. I hadn't gotten a reply since...." Well, he didn't exactly know when-

"Since two months ago, I would wager. Am I right?"

....

"How did you-"

"Mom makes me get the mail. And I know the code to your phone. I noticed. That's why I reached out to her. You are welcome."

He stared at her. She went back to watching the TV. He raised a hoof, "I-"

"Oh, you can invite Hot next week. Saturday, high noon, Tex. She's on the other side of town if you would ever look at the address. Assuming she still wants to invite you. Don't forgot to promise her two ponies to make up for your lack of social skills.......big strong brave brother of ours." She threw her head back in an overly dramatic exhaustive sigh. "Aaaaaawwww, I wish my greatness had been passed onto my progeny. Oh well. Soon as I start ovulating....try try again."

"LIBERTY RENEE-!!!!"

"JUST KIDDING, MOM!" ... "Still, one can have dreams-"

"LIB-!!!"

"Still kidding! Sheesh...."

He slowly worked his mouth trying to come up with words. So many things wrong in the last two minutes.

"Yes I know, I am magnificent. Afterall, they built a statue to my magnificence."

Settling back down on the couch, he knew he was not getting a nap now. He had two phone calls to think about.

***

Later when the range instructors were policing up the spent brass and inspecting the rotating target stands, one instructor looked down, frowned, and picked up something. He twisted it around in his fingers to get a good look at it in the waning light. Then he walked over to his buddy. "Hey, Mitchell, look at this."

It was a bullet, copper jacketed solid lead core practice round. No corrosion on it, the jacket still shiny. What was odd about it was its shape. It was almost neatly sliced down the middle, from tip to back. Some of the internal lead and the back part of the copper were still holding the two halves together.

"That is the damnedest thing. Did it hit the target holder and bounce back?" Mitchell asked. Stan shrugged and walked over to the stands, peering at them.

"Maybe. The cut is sharp and clean. I found it fifteen yards from the targets."

"Eh, stick it with the other odd ones. Sarge loves collecting 'em," his buddy responded.

When they were done, they shut down the field lights, went inside and started securing the armory cage. Before they turned the inside building lights off, Stan dug the round out of his pocket and put it on the countertop along the side of the classroom, alongside the other weirdly made or damaged rounds. Some were live with the bullet pressed into the casing backwards, or merely pushed in too deep, or a jagged cut down the side of the brass casing when the machine misfed the bullet. Other bullets were simply ones that got washed back out of the berm when rainwater eroded the backdrop hill. A few were flattened rounds that had hit metal targets. He chuckled to himself, knowing their supervisor would get a kick out of this new one. Bullets, and most things made out of metal like planes and vehicles, did weird shit when traveling at high speeds and struck objects. He walked to the front door and turned off the last light before stepping out and locking it.

In the dark, the severed area of the bullet glowed the faintest blue, which would never have been noticed outside of complete darkness. After a few hours, the light dissipated and the bullet was normal, if oddly shaped.

Party Now, Serious Later

"It's been a while."

Civil blinked. Languidly cruising over Dallas on a special VFR (Visual Flight Rules only) route condoned by ATC, her statement snapped him out of a rather peaceful contemplation of his own existence. With the sun out on a bright Saturday just short of noon, the thermals working to his favor, he had zoned for a few minutes and was reminded of the slightly annoying sister/mother on his back. Oh, and there was a box too, just larger than her and just as secured aft of the saddle. He glanced back to make sure both were firmly strapped down and then looked ahead. He had to make sure he didn't cross any airline approach lanes when they crossed north of DFW airspace. They would be stepping down in altitude, and while he did have permission to get under the lanes as they got closer to a certain little girl's house, violating flight regulations was not on his agenda today.

"It's been a while...since what?" He muttered back. Hopefully a while longer so he doesn't have to explain the box to her. Again. For the umpteenth time.

Testily, Liberty responded, "Since you've said anything. You know, the story? Some might think you've given up on it and moved on." She leaned forward and eyeballed the little Deadpool figurine hitching a ride with them. It was stuck to the top of the saddle pommel. That part of the saddle had been shaped to fit the figurine bubble case perfectly via magnets. Otherwise, it was the perfect cup holder, and Civil didn't want to give Liberty any ideas on inflight drink service.

The figurine was given to him when she was still human, originally as sort of a joke. Now it was a reminder that his long-lost mother would always be with him, in some form or another. In her current form, he groused to himself, she was just another monkey on his back.

He snorted and shook his head. "Been busy."

She tapped the side of the pommel and retorted, "What busy? Everypony has been waiting for you to continue. Hello."

They were making good time. Even considering the average speed of a pegasus, it wasn't going to take long before they reached their destination. Already, he was typing in a message to ATC to request loiter time over his destination. Getting there too soon would cause complications. That also meant more conversation filler with a filly. He could already feel the tension building behind him. "It's just you and me here. What are you talking about?" He just wanted to be moody and silent for a while.

"Just get back to the part where you went all moody and silent."

He frowned at nothing in particular. Yah, okay. He was moody. He had plenty to be moody about. There had been enough cause to be moody for the past week leading up to this day, for that matter. He had to think back to what she was talking about. Let's see. Oh, there was the phone call that started this little trip in the first place....

"Sarah, put it on speaker so both of you can hear me," Civil stated. He and Liberty were sitting at the kitchen table. Well, he was AT the table. She was ON the table.

"Okay," the girl on the other end replied. After much foreleg twisting, Liberty had finally convinced Civil to make 'the call.' He could only imagine what showed up on her phone as caller ID. When she had answered, she was pumped full of energy. That meant something like 'Awesomemest Pony Ever!!!!' or some such nonsense. Liberty shook her head at his dopey look. Yeah, she knew him too well. Thankfully, Sarah's mother was nearby to reign her in. Barely.

"Civil! It's on speaker now! You promised you would be here for my birthday and it's only a few days away-! MOM! Give that back!"

"Dear, he's a busy pony, and the party is a full seven days from now, not a few." Bless that lady's heart, she was trying to keep the lid on a powder keg sitting in a volcano. He sighed to himself. The burdens of duty. He knew he had to attend.

"I swear I will be there," Civil cut in. "My mom....moms.....both put it in their phone calendars, so we definitely won't miss it."

"Moms....?" Sarah's voice was definitely confused. Liberty wrinkled her brow at him.

Civil slowly looked away from the phone and narrowed his eyes at the filly. He muttered, "You didn't tell her." She blinked and looked away wistfully, one hoof rubbing the other foreleg. The stallion huffed disgustedly and turned back to the phone sitting on the kitchen table.

"Oh...uh...well, that's what the thing was, that thing that caused me to miss your letters...and texts. My mom came back, my pony mom. You remember Renee? Turns out she...uh...turned into my mother. My pony mother. But she remembers only being my sister. The human one."

There was dead silence.

He added quietly, "And she's a filly...now...."

Liberty facehooved and stared at him. "You are such an idiot when you describe things. Ahem. Hey guys, it's formerly Renee. I am now Liberty, Civil's mother! And I am his human sister, now in pony form." She hissed at him, "Was that so hard?"

"Right. That totally makes more sense," he said sarcastically.

More silence at the other end.

Sarah's mother chimed in. "Sarah is crossing her arms." Both ponies shrugged at each other. They hear muffled conversation on the other end. "She thinks you are making that up as an excuse for ignoring her all this time. And...you roped your sister into it, too? Sarah! Renee would not stoop to that."

Liberty's eyes widened.

Civil sat back smugly. "You dug yourself into this hole."

"Me?!....this was your fault! Your...act of neglect....hole. You know what?" Liberty smirked back at her son. "I have not begun to fight! Wanna see a digital cruise missile?" She pulled the phone over to her, gently tapped at it with both her hooves. She searched pictures, chose one, hit share. Then she hit send.

The filly sat back. Holding up a wing, she used a hoof to count off the last couple primary feathers near her wingtip. "5, 4, 3, 2, 1...." She waited another second, eyebrow quirking, then nodded to herself. "Impact."

No sooner had she finished the word, a juvenile squeal emitted from the phone. Civil peered at the phone and saw Liberty had sent a recent selfie to the girl. The picture was of both ponies looking up at the camera, Liberty sitting on his head holding the phone while he had a disgruntled look.

Apparently, Sarah's mother had to wrest the phone from her daughter again. "That is so adorable! Look Sarah, that's Renee. She really did change. You can see it in her eyes."

Civil sat up, frowning, leaned forward again and stared at the filly. She blinked demurely and pranced in a circle while maintaining eye contact with him. He rolled his own eyes and looked away, mumbling, "I don't see it."

The young girl exclaimed, "Oh I do see it! You look so cute Renee, oh I mean Liberty! You are a pony now, too? Right?Awesome!"

"It so is!" Liberty pranced around as though she were a show pony. Civil had to give her that one. It was a tad awesome.

"And you said 'we definitely won't miss it.' So, you are coming to visit too, Renee? Liberty?"

Liberty blinked. "Oh...well I don't know-"

"She is DEFINITELY going to be there, because awesome ponies show up for awesome birthday girls." Civil was all teeth with his huge grin.

His pony mom slapped the mute button.

"There are going to be a BUNCH of girls there! Young, hormonal, pony loving girls and I am TINY. Hello!" She waved her dainty hooves at him in a panic. He patted her head.

"Honestly I thought all girls were well behaved and it was us boys who are the troublemakers." Liberty emphatically motioned over her whole body again with her front hooves, as if that was supposed to add more to her argument. He glared in irritation and whispered, "Oh, and throwing me to the wolves was a zero-sum zero-shits-given thing for you, am I right? Welcome to my world....mooooom."

She eyed him back. "You're getting way too smart lately. Besides, I threw you to the wolves because it's for a good cause. And why are you whispering?"

He glanced down and saw the phone mic was still muted. Oh. He unmuted it. "Sorry ladies, us ponies are still working out some things."

"Don't mind us we are still gushing over your picture."

"Speak for yourself, mom," Sarah answered.

Liberty stuck her tongue out at Civil.

He opened his mouth to give a retort, then closed it. He really had no good excuse to feel heated at all...except that his sister/mother was being a pain. "It's for a good cause. Remember?"

Pursing her tiny lips to the point they turned white from the strain, she leaned over the phone and was all sunshine. "I would absolutely LOVE to be there! And we are bringing a third full grown pony. It will be a blast."

Whispering over the phone, Civil asked, "How do you turn your attitude on and off like that? And I didn't even ask Pink yet!"

She waved him away. "Easy, and simple."

He blinked at her in confusion, "Wait, which answer goes to what question?"

Shaking her head, she said, "I take it back, you are not getting smarter. I can't believe Pink still feels the way she does...."

"Hold up, are you talking to her behind my back?"

"No, just texting once in a while."

"That's still behind my back!"

"Says you."

"Damn right says...uh, darn right. Um, is Sarah still listening?"

"Yes," came two voices.

He groaned. Tapping his hoof on the table, he muttered, "This isn't over, Libs." The filly stuck her tongue out at him again. Even silent, she was still loud. "Sarah, can you put your mother on the phone and step into another room? We have to discuss some super-secret stuff, like your present."

"Oh, right away!" The younger voice said.

"Is she gone?" He asked.

"Yes, she is. I know she likes ponies a lot and with the popularity of the TV show coming back, you could get her anything and she would love it. Just having you visit would be enough. I wouldn't spend too much on anything."

Civil said, "Don't worry about that, I got this. Soon as Liberty is done pretending I'm a cow doctor and leaves the room, we can talk. I have something special in mind, but I will need your approval since you will have to deal with it until she leaves home for college." Liberty still had her tongue out this entire time.

"Oh my, this does sound interesting. I shall wait."

Liberty stuck her tongue back into her head with a disgusting slurp. "Huh? Wuh....what are you planning!?! You're not going to...you're not posting pictures of me, like, online? Or making posters of me, are you!?! I will not be some adolescent girl's pony pinup!" Oh, now she was indignantly righteous, as opposed to...never being indignantly righteous, like, ever.

"What? No, you sicko. You really think I'd do something like that?"

"No of course not, just that some people post those on pervy websites to get money and I thought you needed money to get Sarah her present...." She looked away with her eyebrows raised, then glanced back at him curiously.

"First, screw you. Second....screw you! I have half a mill in the bank. Remember? Now get lost, adults have to pow wow, now."

Cute little glare.

"Trust me."

She stared at him dubiously. "There are few times I feel fear in my life. You saying 'trust me' is like, all of those times."

"Yah. Third, screw you. Get."

"You kiss your mothers with that mouth?"

"Nooo, not that one."

He grumbled and thought of more recent arguments, like today. Earlier....

They had just taken off from home...and...Liberty was the one being moody.

"Again with the riding? I want to fly. Fly!" She made an effort to flex her wings, which threw his flying off since it changed his aerodynamic profile. He shook back and forth, then quickly checked to see both she and the package were still secure. They had JUST taken off from their house and she was starting this.

"Well, you could go for your part 107 certification." He snorted at his own suggestion.

Quickly snapping her wings back in, she growled, "Part what?"

"You know, for unmanned aircraft systems? You definitely weigh under 55 pounds to qualify."

Scrunching up her snout, she said slowly, "I am not a drone, dipshit."

"You sure drone on about wanting to fly solo. And language, sweety." Liberty huffed and stomped at the saddle with her forehoof. He grinned and shrugged as they got up to flight altitude. "Yer right, rule such and such stipulates the aircraft cannot be physically touched or ridden by the pilot, so that does disqualify you-"

Glowering, Liberty worked her jaw. "You KNEW that disqualified me, which makes you an asshole for suggesting it."

Nodding, he said, "-whiiiich, makes you my rider."

A solid minute of silence ensued. Bliss. "I hate this pony shit." Bliss over.

He chuckled, coasted on one wing while he used the other to reach back and pat her hip. "It's just an age thing, Libs. Get over it."

"I am not a filly!" She flicked away his wing. He resumed powered flight again.

"I already had a discussion with the FAA over it. To avoid liability with the general public should something happen, especially because your body does not have the muscle mass or practice of an adult pony, they are going with the age rule as it pertains to your current physical age, not mental. So yeah, past lives don't count."

"....I REALLY hate this pony shit."

He tilted his head so he could eye her as she sat atop his back. The black leather saddle with silver accents really did work well with his black and white coloration. "At least you will be arriving in style. I have the Cadillac of saddles. Come on." He looked ahead.

"You are getting a cup holder installed-"

Whipping his head around, he angrily said, "You are NOT drinking alcohol in flight!" She stuck his tongue at him.

She had the gall to smile sweetly when he kept staring. "What's in the box?"

"No."

"No is in the box?"

He shook his head. "No, you can't see it. It's not for you."

....

"That's not going to work," he warned her.

"But you can feel it."

Now it was his turn to "...."

"Why are you nervous?"

"I'm not nervous!" He said a little too quickly. Liberty smiled smugly. "She's gonna want to talk about relationships and shit. I'm not ready. Not yet." Liberty groaned.

"She's a little girl, Civ."

"I'm not talking about Sarah!!!"

"Me neither."

That got his attention. He twisted around and stared at the filly sitting there. "Huh?"

Liberty pressed her hooves together and took on a prim posture. "Hot Pink lost everything, had to start over. Yeah, she's cautious with her feelings, but wants to take a chance with you...and even though it may seem fast, she's actually going fairly slow, as though it is her first time. From what you and she have talked about, I would say she was very sheltered growing up in her family business back in Equestria. She is protecting her heart, which is why she is reaching out to you instead of dating some random pony much more accessible in her hometown in Frontier. Cautious as a little girl stepping out into the world."

He tried to think through all of that. "Wait a sec. You contradicted yourself, like three times. Cautious is an adult thing."

"We are women."

"Mares. And that doesn't prove anything!"

She smirked at him. "Well, it proves to me you still have a lot to learn. Anywho, have you ever wanted to know why she chose you?" He shook his head and went back to staring ahead, almost as though he did not want to hear it. "She chose you the moment she saw you, because she zinged." He snorted loudly. She lowered her voice, "Almost anybody with their head on straight would."

He glanced back, "What was that last bit?"

"Nothing. Cloud." He looked forward and banked hard left to avoid a small puffy cloud that was hidden by a larger one behind it. When he finally righted himself, he grumbled about backseat drivers. She waited a full minute.

"So, what's in the box?"

"YOU, if you don't pipe down!"

Another minute of silent flying. Then, "That could be fun."

"ARGH!!!! If you positively won't shut up, can you at least come up with something that doesn't have to do with mares!?!"

Glancing around at the sky innocently, she asked, "Mmmkay. I noticed yesterday you came in all moody and quiet. Something rub you wrong at the academy?"

Oh...that moody. "Ahem," Liberty nonchalantly pressed. "Yeah. That." He had clammed up most of the trip after she had asked about his academy training. He supposed now was as good a time as any to discuss things.

"Fine." After a few more minutes spent dropping in altitude, he spotted the house. He also spotted several children in the backyard, adults scattered throughout to keep the hellions in check, a table with a cake on it, lots of presents piled up on one end of said table, several attractions in the yard such as the inflatable slide (Liberty squeed), bounce house (she squeed more), slip and slide (Civil rolled to the side to stop her from squeeing incessantly. Scanning the skies, he found a suitable cloud that was moving slowly and not due to pass over the house for the next several minutes. He flew toward it and landed. Reaching back to loosen Liberty's straps, he jerked to the side, tossing her gently onto the cloud surface.

"Ah, much better. Needed to get that monkey off my back."

With a yelp, the small filly rolled once and popped back up onto her hooves. "No, you haven't, you are still sitting on whatever it is making you a total wet blanket. Spill it!"

Pointedly he stared at her, but she wasn't going to acknowledge which monkey he was talking about. Ultimately, she was going to have her way as usual. He sat back and sighed. "We got in trouble and were exercised to death because one of the other cadets had a misfire."

"Punished for a malfunction? That seems unfair."

"Well...a couple of us exercised poor safety, too."

"Exercised for poor exercise of safety. Yah. Got it." He huffed and shook his head. Liberty rolled her eyes. "Dingus. They do that stuff all the time. It's called hazing. College frats, sororities, academies. What's the prob?"

"When we were asked if his gun was pointed down range, we said yes. And it WAS aimed downrange, toward the targets. Technically."

"Technically. So you claimed you did nothing wrong...but you kinda did?"

"But it almost hit another cadet, and it did clip me. I flung out my wing on instinct."

"On instinct!?! What moron gets shot on instinct!?! You got hit!?! Where?" She squirmed around to see the injury.

"It broke a single feather. Nothing more." After a minute of her fussing around his wings, he finally showed her where the missing feather used to be. It was still a little sore.

".......soooo, you fucked up."

He shook his head in frustration. "I didn't fuck up.....I...."

"You didn't tell the instructor the whole story, did you? Because you didn't want to look like a tattletale to those you would be working with. That about sums it up?"

His ears twitched a little. It was starting to be a tell for Liberty when she knew she was on the right track with him. He sighed, "When you put it that way-"

"Any lawyer and garbage rag news outlet will put it that way. You did know what you were signing up for, didn't you?"

".....yes. I want to protect. All people, not just ponies."

"That means protecting the truth," she shot back. He stared at her in silence. She said in a lower voice. "You think mentioning you got nicked would have gotten him kicked out?"

Nod.

She inhaled deeply and sighed. Just when she thought this poor boy had finally learned the ways of the world, he opened up a can of these kind of worms. "Civil, having too big of a heart will make you do something good instead of right. That's all fine and dandy for Hollywood, but we aren't rich and we can't afford lawyers for every little crusade you come across. We certainly aren't politicians either, so there's no immunity for any screwups. We are ponies. We will be judged harsher than any other living thing on this planet. Dragons will be judged as dragons, griffons as griffons, kirin......I'm not even going there. But we are so diverse in our abilities, from unicorns to earthers to pegasi, we will be natural targets to anything remotely political. You think it is bad now with all the gender and sexual preference arguments? As a police officer, you get to have two targets on you, the front one for pony, the back one for cop. And bad guys love hitting in the back."

"So what are you saying, that I should tattle on every little-?"

She hopped up and smacked him on the back of his head. She is not a bad guy, spbpt. "Use your brain as well as your heart. You should have told the whole truth. That's why it is bothering you, because you are used to telling the whole truth your entire life, as far as I know. For you, leaving some truth out is almost as poisonous to you as outright lying."

Silence again. Only this time he wasn't staring at her. His eyes took on that thousand yard stare, when one stares at oneself inside. He had thought this whole gun business was simply 'bothering' him before. Now he felt....

She stepped up onto her hind legs and put two hooves on his chest fluff. "Look, Civ...I get it. You want to fit in and you also want to do the right thing. Military always told you what to do, how to do it. This line of work...you are going to make some heart-rending decisions that permanently alter the lives of those you come into contact with, and your own. It is an all or nothing deal. Just like the truth. All, or nothing." He stared down at her. For a pint-sized filly, her eyes could have been mountains of irresolute fortitude.

Slowly she sat back down, her gaze softening. Slowly, after minutes of letting it sink in, he nodded. She was right. He knew he should have said more at the range. He had been fighting the wrong notion in his head. It wasn't about the other cadet. It never should have been. It was about straying from who he had grown up to be, in both lifetimes. As he finally accepted the truth of the matter, a tension he was not even aware of began to leave his body.

He murmured thanks, the wind barely bringing it to Liberty's ears.

She smiled and closed her eyes, feeling the sun on her face as their cloud slowly drifted above the rooftops. They were almost directly over the girl's house and would soon be drifting away. Liberty murmured, "Anytime. Just...don't...fuck up!"

A melodious female adult voice carried down to them from overhead, "Did I hear some dashing stallion in the best saddle in the world fuck up?" Hot Pink coasted just above them, wheeling around in tight circles until she gently landed, one last flap of wings to make a very smooth landing.

Liberty crossed her forelegs and smirked. "Gee, Civ, she can land with all four hooves at once, AND without shaking the heavens while she's at it." He glowered at the filly, then slowly walked over to Hot Pink. No, he didn't rush. He trotted. With alacrity. Certainly not rushed.

Civil only had one word pounding in his mind. Stunning. Her mane and tail must have had hours of treatment because they had a lot more body than when he last saw each her. Fur practically shimmering, a dozen different delicate scents tickling his olfactory senses. He recognized a few of them, but a couple were definitely exotic, and all played a nice bouquet of sensuality off her. What really got his attention was the black and pink leather saddle she was wearing, silver accents as well. It was a different style than his, and yet the colors suited her. The stallion's stare must have shown obvious approval.

She nuzzled him lightly and said, "Don't worry, I didn't copy yours in a vain attempt to match." He lifted his eyebrows as he pulled back to look at her, his face and ears turning red. He knew she was forward in a playful manner, yet his awkwardness was already tripping up his thoughts. Liberty rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Uh...I wasn't thinking anything of the sort. I was admiring...the colors." Both mares exchanged looks. Liberty fell onto her sides, cackling. Civil's face felt incredibly warm and he shook his mane out. Looking down past the edge, he said, "Whatever. Anyway, I think the party is underway. This cloud won't stay over it forever."

Pink watched him with a knowing smile and nodded. "Whatever you say, Civ." She waited until Liberty was back in the saddle before the two larger ponies coasted down in lazy circles. On of the kids started screaming and pointed up in the sky. Soon all the children were yelling. No sooner had they finished their spiral to the ground, all the kids started running up to them.

"The ponies are here!"

Liberty tapped the side of the saddle hard, yelling, "Civil, fly. Fly! It's a kidpede!" While accustomed to chaotic situations, he did open his wings again, preparing for a power liftoff, thrown children be damned.

"Stop!!!! Remember the rules. They are people, not animals!" Sarah came pushing up between her friends to get to the front.

He grinned and made a strange voice. "Aw am not an animal, I am a human being..."

Pink snorted. Liberty said, "Oh please, NOBODY here is old enough to know that reference, including you. Or me."

He snorted too and glanced back wryly, "The benefit of AMC channel, mom. Sarah, dear. Go watch a movie called The Elephant Man."

Sarah's mother came up behind her and patted her daughter on the head. "I think that one has a little too much drama for her age. In a few years, maybe." Civil shrugged and nodded.

One boy pointed out, "It's a mommy pony, a daddy pony and a baby pony!"

Liberty retorted, "I'm not a baby!"

Before Civil could argue the point, another girl said, "It's a whole family of ponies! Wow. How come the baby pony doesn't share either of your coat colors?" He turned red and didn't trust himself to argue THAT point.

Sarah turned to her friends and stated, "She's a filly, not a baby."

"I am not a filly!" Yelled Liberty.

"A ruler says otherwise," Civil argued.

Liberty growled, "If I paddle you in front of all these people, THAT will say otherwise. I'm still your mother."

Sarah tried to keep everyone from swamping the ponies with questions. "Listen! They're not a family, not like human people. They call them herds." Some of the children tried out the words amongst themselves.

Civil raised a hoof and said, "Uh, we're not a herd."

One boy pointed out, "They sure argue like a family."

"A herd," stated Hot Pink.

Civil whipped his head around incredulously, "Pink! You're not helping!" She grinned and knew absolutely she was not helping.

Another girl stepped around Sarah and asked Civil directly, "Are you really the mommy and daddy ponies?" Civil blustered as he tried to argue any point at this point. Pink merely grinned and blushed, but she did shake her head 'no' slightly.

Slightly.

"We're...uh...not..." Civil finally stammered out.

"-attached," Pink finished.

"Yet." Both of them looked at Liberty. Civil glared. Pink merely smiled and winked at Liberty.

"Are you the daddy pony?!"

Civil choked out, "It's the other way around!" He realized what he just said and waved his wings in denial trying to rephrase it. The crowd of children erupted with even more embarrassing questions and started to encircle the ponies, despite Sarah trying to block them. To be honest, there was NO way he could rephrase that. After a few minutes of Pink and Civil trying to untangle that mess with Sarah insisting everyone stop yelling, the questions became more benign, though thankfully the attending parents hadn't noticed the X-rated nature of some of some of them. Everything was asked with the innocence only children could provide, further raising Civil's apprehension. He simply wasn't good with children.

Sarah finally wrestled control back from the crowd.

"Get back! Give them room!" She stood between the two groups, forcing her friends to squeeze back into a smaller crowd on one side, the ponies behind her. "I will introduce them to you, as is proper. Just, everyone behave!" She started with telling them Civil's name and how they first met. She moved on to Liberty and explained the extraordinary nature of her transformation. Then she got to the mare and hesitated.

Pink stepped up next to her and bowed her head to the children, "My name is Hot Pink. Shortly after Civil arrived to this world, he and I were classmates in a flying orientation seminar held by the United States military in San Antonio. Since then, we have kept in touch." She definitely had everyone's attention, including Civil. In particular, he was nervous about what she would say. As was her usual mystique, she ended it there and stepped back. Some of the kids started whispering, eyeing Civil and Pink. He cleared his throat.

"Uh, Sarah, I noticed you have a party here. Anything fun to do?" Immediately she gently took his wing and led the ponies over to the inflated castle and other attractions in the yard. On the way he was able to say hi to Alice, Sarah's mother, but the precocious girl dragged him along. Liberty pranced behind him, laughing and enjoying all the attention the kids were pouring on her, but making sure she was close enough to the stallion in case things got hectic. Pink elected to stay behind and converse with the adults, making more formal introductions with them. She had also managed to lift the large present box off his back and put it on the table. Her touch was so light he never noticed until after he panicked while jumping on the air castle, and then noticed it had been moved. She merely grinned and winked at him from a distance, then went back to conversing with some of the parents.

After some maniacal bouncing around on the air castle and the slide and a dozen other kiddy attractions, Civil wandered back with Sarah. Liberty was perched on Civil's back, where he could keep an eye on her. She looked glum, having wanted to do more bouncy stuff, despite her earlier apprehension to being crowded in. Most of the kids were having too much fun around the yard, but a few were sticking near the ponies. He had figured this might happen, groupies being groupies. Of the kid variety, he was willing to tolerate it. Sarah led them to her parents.

"Mom, can I open Civil's present? Please?" Despite having been told to wait until their guests left for the day, this one was going to be the exception. Alice already knew what was inside. With a nod from her mother, Sarah clapped her hands and ran over to the table where the pile of presents was stored. Grabbing the big box, she tore into it and screamed when she looked inside. Letting the box fall to the ground, she held up a stuffed animal over her head. Instead of watching Sarah, Civil grinned and stood sideways, giving Liberty a good view.

Liberty's face was a mixture of awe, shock, and embarrassment. Held in Sarah's hands was an exact replica of Liberty, right down to the green body, coppery mane and tail, and a perfect replica of the statue cutie-mark. Liberty slowly turned to Civil, staring at him. He never once lost his grin. "Really? Build-a-pony?"

He shrugged and said, "Sure. Bears are out, ponies are in."

Pink stepped up beside him, a very loving expression coming over her. "Civil, that is the most heartwarming thing I have ever seen! I knew you were a softy. They do cutie-mark stitching, too?"

He shook his head, now watching Sarah as she ran over to her parents to show off her knew lifetime friend. The other girls were fawning over it while some of the boys were trying not to, but still stealing envious glances at it. "Naw. Had to take the finished pony to one of those ballcap padodas at the mall. In fact, they did it for free, as long as they got to put it on some hats as well. A lot of onlookers were begging for hats after they saw the pattern get stitched on the pony."

Pink closed her eyes and shook her head. "Civ, honey, we have got to teach you some business sense. The second we get back to that mall, you are reclaiming rights to that mark on account of its owner not giving you permission, nor receiving fair share for a unique design."

He started to say the owner of the pagoda was there at the time and did give permission, but then stopped, thought, and asked, "Wait, we?"

She nodded her head. "Soon as we are done here, we fly straight there. The owner of the cutie-mark is Liberty."

Liberty's mouth dropped open, then snapped shut. "Oh yeah, that's right! MY mark! Which means...." She had a hopeful look on her face, waiting for Hot Pink to confirm it.

The mare nodded. "Which means, your proceeds on any profit made. I doubt they will find some other background character to show up with that same image on their flank. Plus, they can print Statues of Liberty all day long in the human form. Pony form, that's different." She raised a wing at Civil when he started to protest. "And Hasbro can't claim ownership of cutie-marks, period. They've already lost that one in court. I checked."

Civil muttered to himself, "Hm, that was quick. Okay. Yeah, being a wee filly with an adult mind, she could do for her own line of income, I suppose. What about the hats they sold so far?"

Pink smiled as though it was obvious. To her, these things were. "Grandfather them as products of good faith prior to the changing market circumstances. Plus, they are too small to drag you through a Civil lawsuit. Making a contract with them would open up markets with other pony products. Having the heroine of Manehattan as their very first design would be like Nike and Jordan."

Despite Liberty hoof-pumping as the ego boosts just kept on coming, Civil rolled his eyes and snorted. "Air Liberty. Sounds like a budget airline to me." Liberty squawked at the offense.

"Plus," the mare added, "Liberty's pseudo-minority status lends weight to you dictating terms. Child labor laws, Equestrian style."

The stallion's eyes widened, as though getting a new glimpse of Pink's nature. "Woh. That's dirty."

She shrugged, "That's business. Tell you what. I'll be your legal consultant, bang out a contract for limited runs, a percentage of the proceeds will go to Liberty's trust fund and to charities set up for fledgling pony communities that are still trying to get off the ground. Frontier has grown beyond that, so they wouldn't benefit. The shop will get prestige and precedent, as well as advertisement when humans are walking around wearing those hats. Everybody wins."

Before Civil could even begin to comment on the savvy advice, Sarah came over and hugged him, including the stuffed pony in the hug. A muffled voice emitted from the plush. "You are the awesomest pony ever! Right next to ME!!!" It was Liberty's voice. Sarah shrieked and hugged him harder, setting off the sound again. Now everyone around him was impressed.

He said, "They sew a special heart into each one. I chose the voicebox one. Figured you would like it."

Liberty tapped the back of his head, "Hey! I didn't know you were recording me when I told you that. That was me complimenting you when you taught me to finally fly on my own power."

He glanced back at her and said, "And?" Then he nodded to the girl hugging them. Liberty sat back and looked away. Far be it for her to wreck a little girl's birthday gift. And, it was pretty slick the way he turned a selfish phrase like that into one that meant the pony was now physically next to the girl whenever she squeezed it. Liberty shook her head. Damn slick.

Once Sarah was done hugging, she coaxed Civil over to the table and placed the stuffed pony as the centerpiece.

"Civil, Liberty! Can we take a picture with my new pony?! Oh, you too Miss Pink!" The ponies obliged and Civil deposited the smaller pony on the ground. "Liberty, can you get up on the table and stand next to the stuffed you, but face the other direction, so you are like twins?!" Everybody, minus Liberty, oh'd in emotional approval and got out their cellphones to take pictures. Liberty grinned and followed Sarah's directions.

She also hissed through her teeth, "So getting you back for this one. I don't care how happy she is."

Civil stuck out his tongue and replied, "You definitely care how happy she is. Now smile."

"I AM smiling!"

click click click click click click click<

He leaned over to Pink in between picture taking and whispered, "I can see why they want you so involved in Frontier. What are your consulting fees?"

She grinned back and lightly bumped him on his flank. "There might be hope for you yet." He just shook his head. He knew damn well what some of those fees might end up being. Dinner, movie, sunset watching from a slow moving cloud.

When the picture taking and the oohs and ahs were done, oddly enough, Liberty remained where she was. On a more fundamental level, it was kind of neat, albeit eerie, to be standing next to something her size for once. Even if it was fake. And hundreds of times less fun than her! One boy scratched his chin in thought.

"So, how did you get that mark, anyway?" Several other children agreed to the question and asked the same thing, begging her to answer. Not wanting to lose the limelight, she answered and told her story. She saved a city and they built a statue.

Another girl turned to the others and asked, "Wait. If they built a statue of her, and she got her mark of the statue........before the statue....they made a statue of her cutie mark?"

"No.....I don't think...." Civil pondered, then blinked and stared at Liberty.

Her mouth dropped open again. Today was full of surprises. "Oh, wow! We didn't think of that." After all the other stuff that was going on, that visit with the doctor never quite explained why the great heroine, immortalized as a statue...was wearing a toga. Or a crown, or holding a tablet. Or standing up on two legs?

Come to think of it, what the Tartarus DID happen to make them make a statue quite like that? He needed a few more answers from that ASCUE group.

"But which came first, the mark or the statue?" Another kid asked.

He knew Liberty was around before the statue, but couldn't resist saying, "Well I figure it's like a chicken or egg kinda thing." He shrugged with his hooves out, a goofy look on his face.

"I am not a chicken!" Liberty exclaimed.

"I dunno, yer small enough to be one," he quipped. Several kids agreed.

"Take that back!" She demanded.

"Take what back? It's either chicken or egg. You don't get back both."

Before she could retort, another child said, "She's too fuzzy to be an egg!"

She spun around to glare at the child. "I'm not an egg! Or fuzzy!"

Civil snagged a balloon, rubbed it against her flank quickly and stuck it to the side of her face. She glared at him, balloon slowly rolling back and forth vertically on her cheek. "I totally hate you for this." Liberty blew at the balloon out the side of her mouth. It drifted back and stuck to her face again. "Total hate."

"Hey, I can see his junk!" One of the younger boys had snuck around to his rear.

"ACK!" Civil squawked, pulling his tail and rump closer to the ground to cover himself. He glared at the boy with a horrified and offended look. The boy's mother came over with an embarrassed expression.

"Nathan! They aren't animals, remember!? Treat them as you would your friends....then again, just be respectful, okay?" Nathan nodded, though he kept looking back at Civil, who pointedly made sure nothing was showing to anyone now.

"Yah," Sarah added, "and as Sherlock Holmes always says, they are dangerous at both ends and crafty in the middle!"

"Thank you, Sarah, that will do," Alice groaned. Pink chortled softly. Liberty laughed. Civil shook his head at Liberty but let it go. He was willing to take some ribbing in return. Before the awkward silence stretched out too long, Liberty piped up.

"Check it out, he used to be a navigator in the Air Force."

"Oh, wow I want to go into the air force." Others chimed in, swamping him with questions on what it was like, how to get in, what planes he flew. He wasn't exactly happy with the subject. Thanks Libs, he thought to himself.

"You have to work hard, wake up while it is dark, fly long hours, get back late, do it all again the next day. Get paid the same whether you work 40 hours or 60 hours a week."

She glowered at him, "Gee don't make it too exciting. Oh yeah. He got to be on the AWACS!"

"What is a wax?"
"Like a bee hive?"
"Bees? Why would they have bees?"
"Why were you on a bee hive?"

He sighed. This is why he didn't not talk about the military to children. "No...AWACS. A. W. A. C. S. Airborne Warning and Control System."

"....." That was pretty much everyone's response.

"The E-3?....a Boeing jet with a big radar dish on it?" He looked around at the audience.

"..."

Shaking his head, he sighed again. "Fine. It was the first plane to get wrekt in the movie Independence Day." Yes, wrekt.

"Ooooh yah that one..." They all degenerated into telling each other scenes from the movie. Again, this was why he didn't talk to children much.

"Yes...that one." He raised his voice slightly, but honestly, he could have cared less if they didn't pay attention to him.

"Did you see any cool stuff? Aliens, ufo's, angels?" Alright, now that was a decent question.

"Uh, no...nothing like that. I did see what I thought was St. Elmo's Fire once-"

"You saw ELMO!?! What about Big Bird???"
"GROUCH! Do you know him?"
"Burt and Ernie!"

He closed his eyes and just clamped his mouth shut. He knew it.....he knew it the instant it left his lips. He was so excited to describe the spidery Christmas trees of electricity dancing on the plane's windows that he completely forgot he was talking to a bunch of hyper human children. Liberty rescued him. Sort of.

"He said he was at an event once and was sitting behind a B-2 bomber. A stealth bomber." She beamed, proud as though she were the one to have seen it.

He raised a wingtip to make a point. "That was an exercise in Nevada. They practice wargames and such. High level security that I can't talk about-"

"You got close to a B-2? Can you talk about that?" Some of them were pretty sharp, especially with Secret topics in the news these days.

He thought about it. "Yeah...I guess that is okay to talk about-"

"Does it shoot lasers?" Damn they whipped out the questions.

"Um, no. They were working on something, like an airborne laser a while back, but the project never got off the ground-" He never got the chance to chuckle at his own joke because Liberty jumped in.

"It drops bombs. Like big ones and nuculer ones. It can fly all around the world nonstop, deliver payloads, come back, air refuel both ways. It was the one in the movie Broken Arrow with John Travolta-"

"What?" Civil interrupted her. She looked up at him.

"What?"

".....Nuculer?" He raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged at him. "Yeah? So what? You told me they do, sometimes. In the movie it did, and Travolta made the bombs drop in the desert, but they didn't explode-"

"I said nu-CLEAR."

Pink snorted softly and sat back, picking up her red cup and dropping a teaspoon of salt in it. Swirling it around, she leaned over to Sarah's mother and a couple of the other adults that were standing there, entranced at what was unfolding in front of them. "I'd settle in with a drink and some snacks. This could take a spell." They took her advice and took some of the popcorn she was offering all of a sudden.

"I know, nuculer," Liberty replied.

Civil grr'd softly. "Okay, say nuclear."

"Nuculer."

"NUCLEAR."

"NUCULER!"

Civil paused. Then he said, "Say new."

"New."

"Say clear."

"Clear."

He grinned. "Nuclear."

"Nuculer. So, when they dropped the bombs, he also made Christian Slater eject. And I really like Christian. He's kinda hot, like in a dirty I'm gonna take him home and piss off mom kinda way." She had turned back to the kids.

"Liberty, Dammit!"

She glared at him, "Hey! Kids are here, you cretin! Watch the language!"

"What!@? You said pi-...the 'p' word!.....argh! Look, if I give you water in a glass and it was sitting for a few days, it was old water. Right?" Liberty was starting to get an annoyed look.

"Yah....?"

"But if I give you a fresh glass, new water, right?" By this time, EVERYONE was enthralled with this odd conversation. Alice had to make a few trips to keep everyone supplied with popcorn and drinks. She definitely needed a drink to follow this one.

"Duh."

"Okay...say new water."

"New water."

"Now if you can't see through it, it's muddy. Like....old muddy water."

"...you want me to say old muddy water?"

"No! ...BUT! If I give you fresh water, it won't be muddy. It is clear. Got it?"

"Clearly."

"So, say new water."

"New water."

"Clear water."

"New clear water."

"Nuculer water.

"No!!!! Say new!"

"New!" She yelled back at him, now clearly enjoying his mounting frustration. She still had no idea what he was talking about.

"Clear!"

"Say new, pause, clear, water." He had such a hopeful look on his face.

"New pause clear water." He did ask her to say that.

"Dammit, don't say the word pause, just say new......clear.....water." He was near to tears. Tears she gladly lapped up metaphorically.

"New, Clear, water."

"THANKYOU! Now. Say nuclear water."

"Nuculer water." She turned back to the kids. "Anyway, so when Christian is in the desert there is this whole plot-thread about not stepping on this mound of dirt because it was like, 10,000 years old-....Civil would you stop flipping out and going nuculer over nothing? It's just a movie." He was hopping around, flapping his wings and wringing out his mane. Several of the adults didn't know what to do, but thankfully Hot Pink took it upon herself to grab his foreleg and drag him away before he last anymore of his good looks.

"Hey hon, she's young, let it go," she consoled him as he was led away.

"It's not that difficult to say nuclear! Nuclear! Anypony can say it. I can say it. You can say it!"

"...." She did give him a coy look. All she had to do was say it the wrong way and-

"Well, say it!"

She laughed instead. "You need to relax! Hmm. What if we do a song. Something with a bit of Harmony in it. Yes?"

Grumble.

She lifted up his chin with a wing. "You can choose the song." After a few minutes of watching Liberty have her fill of entertaining her audience, he started to get an evil thought. Watching his face, Pink nodded. "I knew that would do the trick. Get to it, Popo, protector of ponies." He chuckled as she used her own version of a slang term to call police.

Liberty and the children had moved on to the subject of Equestria and if the cartoon was accurate. Such as the different species involved. That was what gave him the idea.

"Hey sis....or...uh, Libs. How 'bout them reindeer."

She smirked back at him. "Jokes on you. We don't have reindeer, we have kirin. I looked it up!"

"Kirin!" One of the younger boys piped up. "I want to hear about the kirin. They're like reindeer, right?"

"Yeah! Tell us more about Equestria"
"No! Tell us about Canterlot!"
"If the kirin stampede, does anybody get run over?"
"Like if a tree falls in the woods?"
"Well duh! They are usually silent. Get it?" Several of them laughed.

Liberty was whipping her head around trying to regain the crowd. Civil snorted, "I'm sure Liberty would get run over by a reindeer, she's so small." Liberty's face went white and she hopped up and down, about ready to lay into him, when bells began jingling and some music started playing. A guitar twanged along with the bells. She barely got out, "No, Civil! Don't you dare-!"

At the proper moment of the music, Civil stepped forward and sang, "♪ Liberty got run over by a reindeer! ♪" Liberty growled and ran toward him but he swept her up and swung around with her on two legs as though she were a babe. "♪ While she was chasing Santa's sleigh! ♪"

Liberty spat out, "We don't even know if Equestria has a San-!" Civil stuck a hoof in her mouth.

"♪ We all told her not to do that......but she ignored us anyway. ♪" Despite her trying to bite his hoof, he went on anyway. His metal shoes could take it.

"♪ Liberty got run over by a reindeer.......you may be asking how that was? Well that first sleigh was a fake one......and then the real one gave her a buzz. ♪" He sat down and gently put her on the ground, the children forming a ring around them. She spat out his hoof and glared up at him, then hunkered down as the children watched her and sang along. She didn't even question how they knew the words.

"♪ Now let's not blame it all on Liberty....she is normally sharp and wise. ♪" He nodded somberly to the lilt of the music. She smiled ruefully up at him. The smile never reached her eyes. "♪ But if you wave a shiny present, then her wits go off the deep end to their demise. ♪" The adults and kids laughed, while Liberty groaned and muttered about unforgivable rhyming.

"♪ So if you're wondering how she's doing, ♪" he glanced down and nudged her shoulder, where she whapped at him in return. "♪ I can assure you she's just fine!" Giggling and chuckling ensued. "♪ But do you think she really listened? HECK no, she kept on yelling 'that one's mine! ♪"

All the adults and ponies raised their heads and began singing. Minus one irate filly.

"♪♪♪ Liberty got run over by a reindeer......while in a Hearth's Warming parade. ♪♪♪"

"♪♪♪ She got distracted by some presents, but now she ducks and covers for those sleighs! ♪♪♪"

They all stopped with the music and bellowed laughing. Even Hot Pink, normally reserved, couldn't help herself and laughed. Not that she was also a singing participant, surely not.

When all the mirth and energy of the moment calmed down, the kids crowded in and gave Liberty lots of hugs to assure her they weren't really making fun of her. Civil did not. He was most assuredly really making fun of her. From in between hugs, she eyed him as though reading his mind.

"I want another song!" Someone yelled.

"No, I want to hear more about Equestria and everyone in it!"
"It's everypony."
"No, they are not all ponies so they can't be everypony."

Liberty lit up and hopped onto the table in the middle of all the other gifts and stood next to the plushie again. All fierce and proud, at a few hooves high.

"Gather around," she announced and waved her front legs at the kids. "Okay, we're gonna do one more!" Instantly there were cheers as she became their hero again. Civil heard Sarah's mother walking up to them, a steady swishing sound as her shoes brushed against the grass. She was holding a gong in one hand and was balancing a cake in the other. She must have felt she needed it to round up all the children from the various attractions at once. He didn't wait for Hamony to kick in, so he pried up a stone with his hoof and kicked it. The stone made a beeline for the gong and ricocheted off the center black spot, ringing it loud and clear. Other musical instruments started playing. After the song was taking effect, Sarah's mother nodded, set the cake down on the table and struck the swinging instrument again at the appropriate times. She was all in.

Walk Like an Equestrian

Stepping in time to the music, she deftly made her way between presents and bowls of chips and drink cups. Somewhere she had gotten a microphone.

"♪ All the Royal Guards in Canterlot, they stand so still, statues, doncha know? ♪"
"♪ If they move at all (oh whey oh), they're falling down, just like fainting goats. ♪"

Civil nodded, "It's true."

"♪ All the bizarre ponies by the hive, they steal your love if you get too close. ♪"
"♪ All full of holes (oh whey oh), they gnash their fangs hoping they get more. ♪"

"♪ Foreign dignitaries all yell (Where oh where is Civil, that mad guard?!?!) ♪"

Civil raised his eyebrow but let that one pass. To be fair, they did used to yell that.

"♪ Walk like an Equestrian. ♪"

Liberty was strutting around, chicken necking and moving her wings like they were arms in the characteristic dance.

Gong....

"♪ The bluff pegasi flash their wings, they spin around as they cross the sky
"♪ They show off moves (oh whey oh), you drop your jaw, then they show you more. ♪"

"♪ All the earth ponies diggin dirt, they like to buck trees and go to sleep. ♪"

"♪ When the clock rings four (That's A.M.), they're walking like an Equestrian. ♪"

"♪ All the foals at the birthday party say, (Where oh where is Civil, awesome Civil?!?) ♪" All the kids sung that one.

Civil looked away in embarrassment. Kids.

"♪ Walk like an Equestrian. ♪"

Liberty grabbed Sarah's new guitar off the table near the presents and started playing the solo as the kids did synchronized dance moves of a desert kingdom variety. For a guitar almost bigger than her, she handled it pretty well, standing up on two short legs and jamming away. Once the music peaked, the children started whistling the theme of the song. Once the second phrase was done, she went back to singing.

"♪ Slide y' hooves up the street, bend your neck, shift your legs then you pull them back. ♪"
"♪ Life is hard you know (oh whey oh), so strike a pose, then you arch your back ♪"

She actually did all that. He was caught between amazement and the outrageous antics of a naked filly doing all that on a birthday table.

"♪ If you wanna find un-i-corns, they're hanging out in the pastry shop. ♪"
"♪ They spell and charm (oh and EAT), they spin their manes, then they strut the street. ♪"

"♪ All the kirin sing with their tongues, they party hard when the sun goes down. ♪"
"♪ And the ponies know (burn oh burn), you get them mad, then it's time to run. ♪"

"♪ All the 'corns in the pastry shop say 'Abra Abra Abraaaa cadabraaa!' ♪"

The music halts and Liberty sings to the tambourine.

"♪ Walk like an Equestrian.... ♪" Liberty's wide eyes looked left and right.

"♪ Walk like an Equestrian.... ♪" She did the eye thing again. Civil rolled his own eyes and laughed.

It took about another minute for the music and the kids to calm down and stop walking on all fours. Like an Equestrian. Civil must have missed when they started doing that, but he shrugged it off. Hot Pink was right. The song had brought everything back around to a semblance of Harmony. He was definitely falling in...he wasn't quite sure he was ready to think about that just yet. He was falling for her, though. Once everyone was settled down and the parents could think straight, and walk straight for that matter, it was time for cake.

Dishes were handed out and held by eager kids and adults alike. The birthday girl stood behind the table with a rather large knife, waiting for her mother to give the go ahead. Candles were lit and the traditional song was sung. Civil had taken the necessary step of grabbing Liberty off the table with her dirty hooves and all, wrapped her up in his wings and kept her mouth covered while she squirmed around during the song. Alice smiled appreciatively at him. Once it was over, she nodded to Sarah, who took to her job with enthusiasm. She stabbed the cake in the center and began slicing.

Civil was a little taken aback with how she was wielding that thing. He tilted his head and examined the cake. It was shaped in the likeness of a unicorn bust, the neck and head with a candy cane cone spiraled horn. The frosting was white, with a pastel-colored mane and pink eyes. The eye color was a bit off but he didn't care. It was Celestia, after all. The inside was a very bright red velvet. He wasn't sure how he felt about the little girl cutting away at the cake in sheer bliss with that knife, though. It was just cake...

He made a mental note to ask Alice if Sarah should be around knives, given what she had been through not that long ago. The thought completely disappeared as he was approached by another girl.

"We can do pony rides? You wore saddles and everything."

He stared at the girl, her name a total blank. "Uh, Journey, was it? Yeah, you see, that was to carry Liberty. Uh...we don't exactly give rides..."

"Oh come on, Civ," Liberty exclaimed and tapped his knee softly, having already wriggled out of his grasp, gotten AND eaten a healthy share of cake, then had the temerity to come back over and sell him out as a dog and pony show. She leaned in and said in a whisper, as if nobody knew, "We. Are. Ponies." To his horror, she raised her voice and looked out to the crowd of children paying attention to them. "Pony rides for everybody!"

He ducked his head and growled in her ear amidst the cheering, "If you think I am flying around and trotting like a beast of burden with fifteen plus kids on my back, you have another think coming!" She pulled away from him and stared at him. Once the cheering died down, they were both staring at each other. After a while, it got really awkward, so he sighed and said, "What?"

"What was that?"

He blinked. "No, don't pull this 'what' crap again, I asked 'what' first." Some of the kids wandered over to Hot Pink and she shared yet another bucket of popcorn with them.

Liberty jabbed a hoof up at him. "You said think." She sat back and crossed her forelegs.

"I know I did! If you think-"

"-you have another THINK coming. What the poop is that?" The children started laughing at the word poop. Civil was not about to be derailed.

"What do you mean what the....stuff is that? Make sense already."

"You make sense. It's SUPPOSED to be 'you have another thing coming.' Thing."

"...what?" He stared at her.

"Exactly."

Pink leaned down to the girl next to her. "This is where Civil flips out. Most males do this when we ladies splice hairs. Learn to splice hairs as you get older, not split hairs. The world is more fun that way." The girl had a wondrous expression on her face and nodded solemnly at the sagely advice.

"No! No no no! It is an early 19th century phrase. It is supposed to be think, not thing, as in you thought one thing but now your thought is another thing....think! I said think!" His mane started looking a bit frizzled. Pink was quietly pointing out the telltale signs of the onset of flip-out. She had acquired a lot more students now who were murmuring in agreement. Pony Study 101 was cool!

"Yes to the first part, yes to the second part," Liberty counted off her hooves. She only held up two, so...yeah. "But only so far as it exists up to the fourth dot. And we are in the 21st century. Get back to the future, Marty." Perhaps if she had not delivered those statements in a flippant manner, he might have found it all funny. She hadn't. He didn't.

"I..........what dots......argh! I am not giving pony rides-!" By this time his wings were out in an alarmingly aggressive manner. While the humans were fascinated, the more knowledgeable of the involved species knew better.

Before Civil could do or say anything else, he froze as a very warm muzzle chose that moment to nuzzle into his ear from behind. Hot Pink whispered, "You knew there had to be pony rides. Why do you think I wore mine as well?" She pulled back to see his ears were stiff and quivering. His eyes were wide as saucers, too. She smiled and said softly, "I'll take half, you take the other half. It's a birthday party, let them have their fun. What do you say?"

He glanced over at Sarah who was beaming at him with excitement. Then when he glanced back at Pink, her eyes were sparkling. She even flicked her tail in perfect timing as though a fly had landed on her, and he knew damn well no flies were around. Whatever she was wearing for perfume, and it was subtle, had some kind of insect repellant in it. He sighed and nodded.

"Expect the worse, and then have fun anyway, right?" He muttered.

Pink grinned. "That's my boy."

Liberty snorted. "Technically, that's MY boy."

Reminded of a certain annoying little pony, he snorted back. "Yeah well don't expect the Wonderbolts or anything. Most of my flying skills depend on a fillaway, lately." He deliberately turned back to the children and let one of his wings pomf Liberty in the face mid-turn.

Making overly dramatic spitting sounds as though she had swallowed feathers from his wing, Liberty raised an eyebrow at him and gasped, "...a what?"

"You know. A fillaway," he replied. Pink tried to hide her smile. Oh, he's got tricks, she thought to herself.

Liberty looked around to see if she was the only one hearing this. Apparently, she was. "What's a fillaway."

He shrugged and tilted his head at her. "Meh, based on you? About 10...15 pounds, tops."

Hot Pink lost it and slumped onto the grass, bawling and kicking her legs. Liberty's eye twitched from the scene Hot was making and the children's laughter. Civil was finally loosening up and laughing, too.

She glared at him anyway. "You are such an asssss-" Her s's hissed away as the other children looked alarmed. She was swearing. ".....ssssssuming pony, you know that...Civil." She growled softly. "I'm getting you back, later."

He grinned. "Bring it, Momsis."

"MOMSIS!!!!!" The kids started repeating the new name. "MOMSIS MOMSIS MOMSIS!!!"

Big massive GLOWER. She retorted over the chanting, "Start flying kids already!!! They want to fly!"

Hot Pink and Civil set up two stations, with parents helping the children sit on the saddles one at a time. Each adult pony would talk the child through how to sit properly and what to expect. Some of them made special requests like a barrel roll or a low pass over houses, or even a visit to the clouds. Pink's made for a more stately trip while Civil made his rides a bit rambunctious. All in all, once the pony rides started, all the other attractions were flat out ignored. The less brave of the kids hung out with Liberty, petting her and cuddling when she gave approval. And she never said no.

It was late into the day when other parents who had dropped their kids off started showing back up to take them home. The hardest part was to convince everyone that the party was winding down. As far as Sarah and her friends were concerned, unless the ponies left, the party was still on. Alice had a pained expression on her face and was trying to figure out how to ask when Civil finally said the 100th no to those still wanting more rides. He raised his voice. "I know you guys would love to do this all day and night, but I have a little filly that needs her beauty sleep." He made a mock whisper to the children, "And just between you and me, you do NOT want to see an ugly filly cranky in the morning, do you?" They all cheered NO!

Liberty stewed off to the side, knowing full well what he was doing, but not appreciating she was being used to wind things down. Still, the move worked. One by one kids and adults were bidding each other farewell, thanking everyone, and everypony, for the hugely successful birthday party. Liberty was mullified by several hoofbumps with the kiddies.

During the reprieve, Hot Pink took one of the unicorn-decorated napkins off the table and pressed her muzzle to it. A nice frosting stain impression of her lips was left behind. Deftly she used a wingtip to burn a series of numbers onto it and held it out to Civil with her wingtip.

"Here's my number."

"I have your number," he replied awkwardly, taking it. Blinking down at the napkin, he raised an eyebrow at her. "You did the exact same thing back in San Antonio."

Smirking, she nodded. "Glad you remember. So call me maybe." She sauntered around him and hoisted Liberty up into his saddle.

"The song?" he asked dubiously.

Hot noddled back at him, grinning.

"I'm not doing another show. Two is enough in one day.

"Uh huh. Keep telling yerself that, tiger." From somewhere she produced a lollipop and stuck it in her mouth. Swizzling it around, she smacked her lips as she drew it out slowly, then leaned in to kiss him. Cherry. A few seconds later he realized his eyes were closed and he opened them. The lollipop was back in her muzzle. She snorted softly. "And you need to tell me about your new job." There was no mistaking the look in her eyes. There was heat there. He knew deep down, there was always heat there, when she gazed at him. He gulped.

Before he could respond, he felt something tiny whack the back of his head. Liberty exclaimed, "See? Even she knows when the moments are. And she has to totally cramp her style waiting for you."

"I know when the moments are! I'm being a gentlecolt about it."

Pink murmured, "It's ok Liberty. The best ones don't come in fighting. They practically volunteer." Liberty nodded and Pink smiled. Civil glanced between the two, then shook his head and pointedly walked over to Sarah and her parents, Pink quietly following. They thanked the ponies for everything they did and how truly wonderful they had made the event. Civil was a bit hesitant, trying to remember something, but it escaped him. He shrugged and nodded to what the two adults were saying. Sarah thanked him again for the present and hoped she would get to see him again soon. He was a bit evasive on the matter, notwithstanding Liberty undermining him the whole time and promising future play dates. He scoffed at the whole idea of play dates but wasn't about to put a damper on the goodbyes. Sarah's parents thanked the ponies profusely for showing up. After all was said and done, the ponies separated and prepared to leave.

Right before Pink could launch into the air, Civil exclaimed, "Wait! Pink, didn't you say we were going to the mall after this?" She lowered her wings and turned to him, saying nothing. He watched her. She watched him. Liberty watched the back of his head and was about to whap it when he spoke up again. "You know, the whole cutie-mark hat thing?"

She grinned and flicked an ear. "Are you requesting my services?" He grew beet red and she cackled, walking over to him to gently brush her wing against his cheek. "And here I thought you were going to wait another couple of months before our next date. I accept."

He blustered, "Wait, a date? I thought...you said...."

Sarah was giggling and exclaimed, "Girls are tricky, aren't we, Mommy?" Alice clapped her hands over the girl's ears, but the damage was done, and Civil finally understood he was well and truly hooked to this dazzling mare in front of him.

He shrugged to himself. At least until the hat thing was taken care of-

Liberty did whack him this time, because she knew exactly what he was thinking.

Author's Note

Yes, I had that nuclear conversation with my young one. No, I didn't pull out my hair. Almost.

Happy Father's Day.

Return to Serious. Sort of.

"Dear diary, it has been two days since Sarah's birthday party and the pingpong ball still hasn't popped out."

Civil stared at her from the hallway. The filly was laid out in her bed, on her stomach on a pillow and twirling her mane in one hoof while the other scribbled away in a small notebook. She noticed Civil at her doorway and froze.

"What?" She asked.

"......what the fuck?! It was a little girl's party!" He exclaimed.

"Yah. And?"

His hoof motioned down to his stomach, hesitated, then made circle motions. "The...the pingpong ball!.....you have to go to a doctor!"

Rolling her eyes, she made a cute snort. "Retard. Doctors don't do that kind of stuff. I need a musician."

".....uh..."

She flipped her hoof at him, as though it were obvious. "To blow on it? Duh!"

"....................." Yeah, he had nothing to follow that up.

She pulled out a small trumpet from under her and pointed it at him. A white pingpong ball was shoved down inside it.

"Check it out. Sarah didn't want one of her presents, so she gave this horn to me! We were playing with her new pingpong table and didn't have enough paddles so I was using this. Wouldn't you know it, the ball went flying high and tight and......anyway, my hooves can't get it out and I don't have the lungs to force it out. Hah, let Mom refute my limited lung capacity!" She stared into it and stuck her muzzle into the flared end. Her voice resonated metallically, "Anywho, I thought warming it up might dislodge it, you know, like a stuck jar," she continued as she glanced back at him, "but no, it's still in...hey, where are you going-!?" The stallion was slowly shambling away from her room. "Oi! Capiche? Comprende? I talking here!" He stopped and glanced back at her. She blinked. ".....um.....what did you think I was talking about?"

"No.......just.....................no......." He stumbled away. She shrugged and went back to writing.

"The party was still fun. Next we played doctor-" There was a number of bumps, thumps and a single crash as Civil tumbled down the stairs "-but I made sure we kept it PG and away from 'special places.' Liberty is a GOOD pony. :)"

***

Harris leaned forward during the safety briefing to get a better look at Civil. Today was a Tuesday, Monday being some government holiday that Civil no longer paid attention to, unless it gave everyone a day off. The briefing was to cover the use of simunitions and the safety gear for this reality based training module. It was standard stuff by now, just a repeat from the earlier training they got in that abandoned school and the active shooter scenarios. Keep mask on until end of exercise, neck guard on as well, guns are blue to show training use only, rounds use a smaller charge than real ammo but propel a small plastic bullet filled with paint, three rounds per magazine. He gently rubbed his left foreleg at the memory of getting hit with one. It was a shallow shot and had dug into his skin. Plastic or not, they can draw blood.

"Did you get into a fight, Miles?"

Short for Milestone. The whole 10,000 badge milestone meme had a chance to die out if he graduated and went to a substation that wasn't in on it. A chance. Civil had given up correcting them by now and was willing to wait it out. He shook his head and muttered, "I fell down some stairs." He didn't fault the guy for his curiosity. Civil had bruises all over him and his feathers were a mess still. Preening could only fix so much.

Harris slowly leaned back and listened to the instructor for a bit. Then he whispered out the side of his mouth, "Fight Club bs?"

Civil rolled his eyes. "No Fight Club bs." They sat for a few more minutes. Civil finally said, "Sometimes it is better not to know some things, because it leads to worse things."

Harris chuckled and tilted his head. "If we get through all this training, that is exactly what we will be doing." The pony grumbled back something neither cared to mention in the open.

The safety briefing ended and they were issued their gear. On the other side of the grounds was a private road track winding a lazy figure eight, with a set of mobile homes set up for realistic scenarios next to the track. The cadets paired off in two's and three's depending on the requirements of each scenario. One of the instructors led Harris and Civil to the first mobile home. The instructor, Senior Corporal Winslow, gave them the run down.

"You get a call, domestic disturbance, wife says she was hit by her husband. Male is known to have a gun but the gun was not out or seen at the time of the 911 call. Neighbors also called in earlier describing yelling from both a male and female. This is an ongoing issue and not the first time police have been out here. Ready?" They both nodded. Winslow raised his voice, "Starting exercise!"

Immediately they could hear yelling back and forth from inside the structure. Human and pony rushed up to the door and stood on either side of the frame but not in front of the door, the so-called fatal funnel. Harris banged on the door with his hand on his weapon, still holstered. He yelled, "Hey! Dallas Police! Open the door!" Civil peeked around the frame and saw through the window of the door that it was a long hallway which ran almost the length of the trailer and then opened to the left to a larger room, possibly a living room, given he saw the back of a couch from his vantage point. The wall along the left side separated the hallway from the rest of the structure. The yelling seemed to be coming from the living room area. There was a pause when Harris yelled police, but the two inside continued yelling back and forth, now blaming each other for involving cops. Harris banged and yelled one more time to get their attention, but to no avail. He checked the handle and found it unlocked. Glancing at Civil, he whispered, "Hallway is a bad setup. Move fast to the other end, don't burst out into the living room. Let's get each one to come to us one at a time, separate and interview. Good?" Civil nodded. They moved in down the hallway and stayed to one side, Harris in the lead and Civil following behind. Both were on edge because they had no room to maneuver if shots started flying.

They reached the end of the hallway, but before they entered the living room they saw a man. He had on a protective mask and neck guard, like all the actors were supposed to wear, arguing and pointing at a woma. She was similarly protected, sitting on another couch that was further in the living room. Civil raised his head so he could see past a countertop that led to a kitchen area, taking up the space parallel to the hallway. Given the outer dimensions of the building, it looked to be a livingroom/kitchen only mobile home. He couldn't see the far corners and felt a brief concern before the woman stood up and started screaming back at the man, calling him some rather savory insults. Harris raised his hand to get her attention.

"Ma'am, calm down, we're Dallas Police. Sir, can you walk over to the front door with my partner so we can get each side of the story, figure out what's going on today?" The male calmed down and started walking to them.

"Can you raise your hands and turn around sir?" Civil asked as he backed down the hallway.

"Am I under arrest?" the man said.

"No, sir. Just checking for weapons, officer safety. You are just being detained while we investigate the disturbance." The man shrugged and did as he was told, briefly turning as Civil patted his waist and legs. He kept his partner in sight as he did this, noting Harris was already in a back and forth conversation with the woman who was sitting back down on the couch. During this entire time, the instructor that had briefed them outside had silently moved by them and was standing in the living room observing the entire exchange. Finally he held up a hand.

"Pause ex!" The actors and cadets stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to Winslow. "Okay, good entry, good de-escalation. Good separation and keeping an eye on each other while engaging one on one with your witnesses and or suspects. Just one problem. Did you clear the area?" Civil and Harris looked at each other. As they stiffly shook their heads, Winslow motioned Civil to step up next to Harris, then waved them forward and around the countertop into the living room.

As they walked further into the home, they began to see the rest of the kitchen that was initially hidden from them, along with another actor that was standing just on the otherside of that wall in the kitchen, holding a blue gun at head level. If either one of the cadets had walked around that corner blind, one of them would have taken a point-blank shot of paint to the head. Neither of them felt particularly proud of that mistake, despite the earlier praise.

"So, if we were to run this again, what would you do different? Understanding you have no prior knowledge of anything else, like a hidden third person."

Civil cleared his throat, "We would pie the corner, clear the home of any hidden or injured individuals, not just focusing on the ones in the living room." Winslow nodded and looked to Harris.

"Anything you can do prior to that?"

Harris nodded to the man and woman. "Challenge them on any other occupants, ask if there was a gun in the house or any injuries."

Winslow bobbed his head and stood to the side. "Alright, let's try some of that. Just go to the door while staying inside, we will restart from there. Remember, you don't know if anybody else is in here, but always assume there might be." The actors took up their original positions and waited. The instructor saw the cadets were back at their starting points. "Resume ex."

Again, Harris and Civil came back down the hallway and paused near the end, just as they had before while the two humans argued with each other. This time, Harris addressed them with, "Hey, Dallas Police! Are there any other individuals here or any weapons in the house?" The woman stared straight ahead at the fake television set while the man glanced into the kitchen and then mumbled a response that neither of them understood.

Both the cadets drew their weapons and the man jumped back towards the far wall, hands up. Civil backed into the living room and sidestepped slowly until he could see a portion of the other man in the kitchen who was once again pressed up against the wall. Civil couldn't see a weapon this time unless he stepped further into view.

"Show me your hands! Step out slowly and drop anything you are holding!" The man complied and as he slowly stepped into view they heard a loud thump, as though something heavy hit the floor. "Step towards me and turn around! Harris, you got the others?" Harris nodded, keeping his gun on both the individuals in the living room. Before Civil could get into a handcuffing position for the kitchen resident, Winslow stepped forward.

"End ex! Awesome." They took their masks off. "That is the correct way to do it. Some other possible things to note, if the scenario had gone a different way." He had the woman get off the couch and lift a seat cushion. Another gun was hidden under it. Harris raised his eyebrows. Civil's ears twitched.

"I assume if I hadn't had my gun pointed at them..." Harris began.

Winslow nodded. "She would have pulled the gun and shot somebody. I usually leave it to her to decide that one. Especially when dealing with domestics, search the immediate sitting areas of those involved, anything within reach. They might be the victim or suspect, but if the questioning isn't going the way they want, they might just want a summary trial right then and there." He grinned and the woman smirked. Now that her mask was off, Civil recognized her as an upperclassman. The academy tended to use either off duty officers or classes near to graduation for these scenarios. The instructor wasn't done. "Hey, Mark. Come out."

Behind the book case, another individual came out, holding a fake knife. The book case was in the far right corner of the room. Had Civil kept backing into the living room but stayed to the right side with the hallway, he would have had his back to that bookcase.

"Always, ALWAYS, clear your scene of any possible suspects or dead people. Expect every room to have somebody, because that moment you don't expect it, they will be there."

The two walked out of the mobile home a tad sober from their mistakes. Having been instructed not to repeat what they had experienced so the other cadets could get the full training value, they stood to the side, keeping their voices low. "Well that could have gone better," muttered Civil.

Harris shrugged, "We're new at this. You play games or watch movies. None of that prepares you, not like actually doing it. All those lectures about hyper vigilance earlier. Remember?" Civil nodded. "I'm starting to feel that now. Gives me the jitters." Harris shook his shoulders out. Civil grinned. It was kind of like when he shook out his wings.

The pony muttered, "The weird thing was, I was thinking about that kitchen when the woman got up and started yelling back at the guy. I got distracted."

"She was probably told to distract you unless you made a deliberate attempt to check out the kitchen. Anyway, this is to prep us for field work." Harris turned and looked at the next trailer. It had some ratty sign above the doorway, a cardboard cutout with the words 'Blue Oyster Bar' written on it. "Gee, wonder where they got that idea from?"

Civil snorted. "Cop humor." He looked around as other scenarios were being run simultaneously from the different buildings. He glanced back at the first home they had just come from. "Guard work wasn't like this. Ponies tended to keep to their own. We were only called out when it was really bad, or a monster was attacking."

Harris looked at him sidelong, eyebrow quirked. "That was not some creepy cave or castle. We were lucky neither one of us stepped into the killzones. There were a few in there." Chagrined, Civil glanced up at him and nodded in reluctant agreement. He had ridden luck before, but knew enough not to rely on it.

"I used go by gut feeling and instinct in the past. Usually it helped. Sometimes it got me in trouble...." His words died off as they heard some low bangs in the house they just came from, followed by a yelled, "End ex!"

Civil's partner patted him on the shoulder. "Go with those instincts then, tempered with caution and facts. If you felt something, then your hypersensitivity was kicking in. Just keep me informed too before the fun begins." He nodded as they both watched two other cadets glumly walk out of the residence, a blue splat on one mask and a red splat on the other's chest.

Winslow gathered Harris, Civil, Caffey and Garner in front of the bar building. "Alright, 911 call came in, a belligerent customer causing a disturbance because his tab was cut off. Remember de-escalation protocol if possible using officer safety at all times. No weapons reported, and the suspect, once you have figured out which one it is, will be smelling heavily of alcohol. For the purposes of this being a simulation, we are not dousing anyone with sanitizer today for special effects." The cadets chuckled and started putting on their masks. "Caffey, Garner, you two showed up first and waited a few minutes for cover. Other than loud music, you have not heard anything from inside. Starting exercise!"

Caffey walked up to the bar cautiously, followed by Garner and the rest. Civil could see a paint spot on Caffey's back and could only imagine how that happened. As they entered the trailer, it was fairly spacious inside with some small tables, a few chairs, a ragtag couch along one wall and a bar that must have been dragged in from some condemned pub. There were a few neon signs glowing on the walls to give the place the impression of a bar, if only an impression. Civil immediately scanned the area and saw six total people standing or sitting at various locations. One man in particular was sitting at the bar muttering darkly while another man stood behind the bar with a rag, trying to wipe down the surface.

Motioning to the left and right of her, Caffey and Garner proceeded toward the bar as Civil swung left to speak to the three individuals on the left at the tables while Harris went to the one on the couch. Keeping an eye on the cadets at the bar, he greeted the patrons. "Hello, Officer Civil Patrol. Did any of you call for police?" The patrons shook their heads and continued pretending they were drinking. Obviously they didn't seem like the trouble maker they were looking for. He was about to head over to Harris when he changed his mind.

"Did any of you witness anything, like a disturbance with a customer, or yelling?"

One of the patrons waved at the bar. "Those two over there were arguing a while back. They calmed down now. I think the one fellah is mad because the bartender cut off his tab." Civil nodded a thanks. He started thinking about frisking the patrons and decided against it. This wasn't a domestic situation where all the family members might be fighting. The customers just wanted to drink and be left alone. He nodded again and headed over to Harris, who was finishing up his conversation.

"Our suspect is most likely the guy at the bar. I haven't seen anybody check the back room yet."

Harris glanced that way and shook his head. "If the bartender is the reporting person, he won't appreciate us searching his place while the suspect is right in front of us. I'll go watch the doorway to the back though, just in case." Civil trotted over to the other cadets and stood on the opposite side of the man sitting at the bar, in case he tried to flee. He caught the tail end of the discussion.

"-don't care how you do it. He needs to leave and I want a criminal trespass done on him," the bartender told them.

Civil cut in before Caffey could reply. "Excuse me sir. Did this individual come in with anybody else or was he alone?"

The bartender looked to Winslow and waited. The instructor held up his hand and made a zero symbol. "No sir, he was here by himself." That's when he noticed Harris was standing by the back doorway. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't go back there. Only employees are allowed, health reasons."

"Yes sir, I understand," Harris responded from the doorway, but didn't budge.

After a moment, the bartender said, "Alrighty then," and turned back to the cadets. "So how are we gonna fix this?"

Caffey turned to the customer, "Sir, you heard him. He doesn't want you on his property and you are not to return, understand?"

Scooting off the barstool roughly to the point it fell over, the man threw up his hands, "Yeah, I heard. This place is a dump anyway. I think I'm going to go find another place worth my money!" Both Caffey and Garner moved in and grabbed his arms while Civil got his cuffs out. The man blustered and moved around a little stiffly, but it was mostly acting. They hadn't gotten to the module called Red Man yet. Supposedly that was where the real ass-beatings began.

Quickly cuffing him, the cadets started walking him to the door. He continued walking awkwardly, as though something were wrong with his legs. Probably playing up the drunken part, Civil thought. Once they were outside, Harris followed them. Civil thought it was odd that Winslow hadn't called end ex yet. After several more seconds walking on the gravel path, he finally did.

"End ex." They all stopped. "So, figure you walk him to the car, and then what?" They all looked at each other dubiously.

Garner said, "Search him, put him inside, belt him in, then go back and get complainant and witness information?"

Winslow nodded. "Good, good. Would it have been a good idea to get the information while you were in there, before cuffing him, to save time?"

Garner shook his head. "No. He would still be a threat until he was handcuffed. If we started discussing his arrest or focusing on writing stuff down, he could have started fighting."

"True," the instructor said, slowly nodding his head again. He moved his jaw back and forth a little. "Course, had you done that, started fiddling with your whip out books to write things down, he would have pulled the gun out of his back waistband that nobody patted him down for." They all stared at him, then at their prisoner. Caffey patted him around the waist and found nothing.

Winslow pointed behind them. There on the path, was a small blue gun. It must have fallen out of the man's pants and all the crunching on the gravel covered the sound of it hitting the ground.

Civil made a small chuffing sound, "Huh..."

"Always do a pat down right after you secure your suspect. Even if he isn't under arrest, you can do a Terry frisk. Harris, good on you for watching that back doorway. While citizens don't like you searching their place, your job to secure the scene supersedes his 'health code'. If nobody was paying attention to that direction when you put hands on our drunk guy, his 'brother' would have just returned from bumbling around in the kitchen looking for the bathroom. With his own gun. Even if nobody notices he came in alone, don't assume your witnesses are accurate or even telling the truth."

Garner wasn't too thrilled about the gun thing. "Sir, when we held his arms and the cuffs were going on, we didn't see or feel anything."

"Did you actually frisk him?" The cadet shook his head.

The 'drunk guy' answered up, "For the record, the gun was starting to slip down my ass. That's why I was walking like that, to try and keep it on my person in case they did want to do a search."

Winslow shrugged, "Aside from the pat down, everything else was pretty good. Go get ready for the next scenario."

Most of the other situations were a variation of that. Surprisingly, Civil and Harris never actually got to use their simunitions on anything. When asked about it, the instructor told them.that, aside from a few forced confrontation scripts, most of their scenes could be handled with no gunfire. That wasn't to say you shouldn't be prepared for it, which was why they never escalated to a shooting. Civil was actually proud of how he and his partner handled things that day.

Until they were all back in their classroom toward the end of the day. Their advisor was at the podium with a stern look on his face. "I understand some of you missed a gun in one of the scenarios and somebody laughed?" They were all stunned and looked around. Civil remembered their group had missed a gun. He didn't recall any laughing. Caffey raised her hand. "Sir, we missed one. But nobody laughed."

He shook his head. "Not an out loud laugh. More like a chuckle."

Civil had a sick feeling. Really? They thought that was a laugh? He cleared his throat. "That was probably me. I chuffed."

"...you...what?" The look on the man's face was complete confusion.

"A chuff. It's not a chuckle. Like, venting frustration. Huh," he demonstrated. Their advisor opened his mouth and stared at the pony.

After a few seconds, Anderson spoke, "Son, that sounds like a chuckle. Your instructor said it sounded like a chuckle."

Shrugging, the pony said, "I don't know what to tell you, sir. When I come across odd stuff, that's how I sometimes react."

Anderson put his hands together, elbows on the podium and lightly bounced his chin on his clasped hands for a minute. He said, "Perception is reality. It doesn't matter what you think you did. If someone else thinks you did it, you did it. And this is how we react. Out to the track, now. We are going to do a few laps. Move it!"

Thus, they found their whole class doing laps for the remainder of their class time before the day was done. Civil got a few not so delicate words of advice from the other members, which all boiled down to keeping his mouth shut next time. He merely shook his head, trotting along with the rest of them. He had heard somewhere that the academy instructors were supposed to jump on them for every little thing, the punishment being physical fitness. A win-win, as the staff saw it. A pain in the plot, as he class saw it. Once again, he was being accused of doing something he honestly felt was not accurate. Yet this time, he would take it. He had the feeling a lot of stuff in the future would be like this, and he had to learn to let minor things go. Pick his fights, so to speak.

The rest of that week was a lot more of that. Scenarios, death by PowerPoint, defense training in the gym, punishments. Lots of punishments. One learning module caught his interest at the end of the week. It was a lecture regarding crime scene, evidence collection and observation while trying to tell the story of what happened based on evidence at the scene. The detective giving the lecture was a Senior Corporal Allison Castleberg, attached to the department's homicide bureau.

Several of the cases she reviewed had some gruesome pictures attached to them. One was a man sitting in the bath tub, missing his face. When she asked for volunteers to venture guesses, some of them were pretty rough, like a killer keeping trophies.

"Surprisingly, this man actually died of a heart attack while taking a bath. He was found like that after several days and the smell was reported by the neighbors. His face was licked off by his pet dog." Several cadets groaned in horror. Civil, for his part, sat back and swallowed. He couldn't imagine what the dog must have been going through all that time. True, he'd heard of cats that would start eating on their owners. Dogs, on the other hoof, didn't resort to eating decayed meat unless they were ravenous. This one was simply so upset that his owner no longer moving, he kissed him to the point of skin removal.

Many of the other cases were somewhat bland. Shooting victim here, stabbing victim there, a vehicle crash that was not an accident. Civil started to zone out a bit. He had seen enough messy stuff shortly after the great battle in Equestria that he wasn't finding any interest in the current subject matter. He figured these cases would get old fast. Search a scene, talk to witnesses, document it all in a report, wait for the physical evidence services unit, PES, to process the scene, and then he'd move onto the next call.

Then he saw a picture up on the movie screen displaying a woman lying in a pool of blood. A wound appeared to be in her lower side, down by the ribs. Ripped grocery bags and strewn items were to the side. Her hair.........

He walked quickly down the sidewalk. It was late at night, not the best time to be out in the city. Groceries in his arms and trying to fiddle with the keys. His front door was just around the corner. Normally he would go out of his way to stick to the lit sidewalk. The groceries had felt so heavy that he figured a few shortcuts wouldn't hurt.

A searing pain erupted in his lower ribs, causing all his muscles to lock up. The groceries spilled out of the split bags he had started clutching so tight. His legs gave out and he crumpled where he stood, falling to his back and staring straight up. The darkly lit sky grew darker, warmth briefly spreading down his side before even that started to grow cold. So cold. So dark........so......heartbeats thumping slower, and slower....slower....

Harris thumped Civil in the ear. That hurt!

"Wake up, the class is over."

Civil glanced around. Sure enough, the cadets were packing up and getting ready to head home. The detective was also gathering up her notes and items. The picture of the last victim was still up on the wall screen.

"Was I snoring or...I was listening to that case file, and, I guess I was imagining how the evidence told the story."

Harris looked like he didn't buy it. "Uh huh. Staring glassy eyed straight forward with your mouth slightly open. Just be thankful you are a pony and people think that's your normal. On us two-leggeds, it's called daydreaming."

Civil was about to retort, but paused. Yeah, that could have been daydreaming even after he explained it. Shrugging, he got up. Taking another glance at the image, he made his way to the front. Harris waited a bit to see if Civil was heading out, then went on his own. Before long it was just the pony and the detective in the room. She noticed he had stayed behind, though a lot of students did that from time to time to ask questions.

"Ma'am, you mentioned those last few cases were still open, in case we saw something that the detectives didn't?"

She paused at the computer. She was in the process of logging off. "Yes. It's part of an experiment, more of a longshot since they've gone cold. Did you notice anything? You were kind of spaced out toward the end."

Turning red slightly, he cleared his throat. "Yes, I was trying to put myself in there place, visualize how things played out."

"Self immersion. Not a bad skill to have. Can be prone to error if you are missing key pieces of evidence, so I would not rely on it as your sole approach to an investigation. You have an insight?""

"...that last one, the killer was absolutely silent, and very quick."

She straightened a little, her interest piqued. "How so?"

"Notice the groceries. They were simply dropped straight down, not thrown about or strung along spilling items as if she had been running, so the strike was done where she fell. It was one stab, very precise. She never heard or saw a thing. You said it had pierced the heart?"

The detective considered his words, then opened her briefcase and thunbed through some papers. "Yes....let's see. M.E.'s report stated a single puncture, thin blade up through the lower ribs to hit the heart."

"There is very little blood around or even on the body."

Studying the photo of the body, Castleberg nodded. "Mm, true. The victim probably took a little while to die, but in that area of town there wasn't much foot traffic to find her in time. Rather sad really. It profiles the killer as being very precise and methodical. That is what makes this one particularly troublesome. It is easy to catch the sloppy ones. This one is different."

His eyes lingered on the victim's head. "Wonder if there are others with colored hair, too."

"Huh?"

"The hair," he pointed with his hoof, "She recently colored it, probably a temp dye that washes out. I know my sister...mom....she wants to dye hers." After the curious look he got, he said, "Nevermind. Anyway....what?" The lady was continuing to look at him with that odd expression.

"Colored hair?" She regarded the picture of the victim. "It's light brown."

"Sort of. It used to be colored."

Castleberg squinted at the monitor. "How do you get that? I'm not seeing it in this image."

"Oh, right. Sorry. We ponies have more sensitive eyes. Notice how much larger they are than human ones?" Pointing at his eye, "It has to do with color saturation or cone number count or something. Some egg heads back home explained it in school. Pegasi excel in eyesight activities, like spotting things from the sky, navigating through tree branches at high speed, that sort of stuff."

She tapped her chin with a pen after jotting a few notes down on her notepad. "Did they explain if this specialized eyesight was magical, or some evolutionary mutation biologically?"

"I think it went hoof in hoof with both of those. Also, there are many different hair and coat colors in our world. Even our eyes tend to have colors far different from Earth. Most people think the cartoon is just colorful, but Equestria is so lush with color...I figure it was just inevitable we would evolve adaptations."

"Must make our world look drab to you." She used the mouse to zoom in on the victim's face while trying to keep as much of the hair on screen.

"It has its moments....actually, let's try this." He motioned to move in front of her and got in front of the keyboard. Moving the mouse, he accessed color options in the Microsoft background. Frowning, he leaned over the monitor and started fiddling with the screen controls with a wingtip. As he worked with it, he squinted at the screen. "Ugh, it hurts my eyes to look at it. Can you see if you notice what I'm talking about?" She nodded and continued watching what he was doing.

"Wait, stop." She tapped his shoulder. "There it is." Leaning over him, she tilted her head. "I'll be damned, the hair does show signs of coloration. What would you say these colors were?"

"Right now, I couldn't. The pallette is so jacked up it makes my eyes itch."

"Let me jot these settings down so I can pass them on to Baltimore. Okay, if you could, try putting it back to the factory reset settings." He did as instructed, sitting back when he was done. She nodded at the screen. "How about now?"

"Mm, much better. Light blue, light pink....sea green? Aquamarine definitely, with some pastel shades."

"Wow, you see all that?" Her pen busily scribbled away.

"There's more. It is just difficult to put into words since some colors don't exist in English." He made a few horse sounds. At least, they sounded like horse sounds to her. It would be Epponese to him and any other pony versed in the language. "Only another pony would understand or see the colors, or recognize them."

"Woh, wait a second." She held up her pen, then pointed at the screen. "Are you saying another pony colored her hair, maybe?"

"No, I'm not saying that." he shook his head. "I'm....huh," he chuffed. A slight irritation of a memory reminded him the last time he chuffed. Shaking it away he said, "Now that you mention it...only another pony could appreciate those colors." He paused, sitting back on his haunches and stared at the victim. "I thought something was familiar about that," he whispered. Civil almost said more, then thought better of it.

"Familiar, that you are seeing more colors than what a human would wear, like pony colors? That is the familiar feeling? Or a familiar pattern."

"I thought it would be a pattern or...this is not the first time colored hair was a thing in a murder. But, no, it's something else. It feels like something else." He squeezed his eyes shut, then sighed, looking at her apologetically. "I had it and it was gone."

"In any case, this is certainly more than what they had before. I'll pass on your expert opinion and see if it helps." She paused, looking at the screen, before logging off. "Damn good observation."

"I'm no expert. I just notice things now and then. Not everypony cares to hear it when I have an idea."

"You have a sense for detail. Don't keep secrets like that to yourself. The tiniest thing can solve the biggest cases. And, if this is pony related, you would be an excellent source of information."

Civil pondered her words and started getting a very icky feeling the longer he thought on it. Other than light frequencies and a possible connection with hair coloring habits...could there be more to it? He remembered Sarah. The knife plunging into a vibrantly red velvet cake of a pony he knew quite well. The icky feeling was getting worse. The instructor paused at the doorway, watching him as he stared at the blank screen. He turned his head to her and muttered, "I'm not sure how I would feel if it is pony related." She nodded and was not oblivious to the political ramifications if that were true.

***

Finally the weekend had arrived. After all the stressful RBT scenarios and the smoke sessions, Civil was beat. He said as much to his family, shortly before crashing on the couch for a lovely Saturday nap. He knew he should have gone to the roof instead.

"Smoke sessions!?!" Liberty, hooves on either side of his head on the arm rest, face staring upside down at him as she stood over him. Her other half was on the marble topped end table. "Since when did you start smoking!?!"

"Off the end table," came their mother's voice from upstairs. She must have been on her computer.

"How did she know that?" muttered Liberty as she hopped down. Then she propped her front up on the couch, digging her hooves into Civil's side.

Growling, he rolled away from her, brushing her off with his wing. "Those dirty hooves you keep jabbing me with, maybe. They make a distinct clicking sound on the marble."

Liberty's face took on a look of wonderment. She whispered, "Mom can hear that from up there?"

"Yes, I can."

Civil snorted softly and curled in on himself more, hoping to get that much needed nap.

He could feel her eyes boring into him. He grumbled and said, "When a class screws up, the trainers force them to do painful exercises until they are physically worn out. Getting smoked. Burning out our muscles, I guess. That's what happened, I don't smoke anything. Peace."

His phone started ringing. Moaning in abject frustration, he swiped the front of his phone and laid his head back, letting the phone sit on his neck. He must have also slid across the speaker option because Strato Sphere's voice piped out of it.

"Hey Civil, how are ya?"

".....trying to take a nap."

"Awesome! Just finished mine." Civil peeked at his phone and rolled his eyes. Liberty giggled. "Anyway, I called to see if you were going to that convention in a few weeks. It IS In Dallas, afterall."

"YES!!!"
"...no..."

Civil glowered at the now hyperactive filly hopping up and down, glee on her face. His ear twitched when he noticed their mother upstairs was no longer making typing sounds on the keyboard. He grumbled at the phone, "What's the big deal, it's just another cringey fan service event to oggle at us four-legged creatures in 3D now instead of the Cartoon Network." He ignored several rude comments that slipped out of Liberty.

"Yeah, I know. But this is going to get a whole town full of ponies showing up."

Civil raised his head and stared at his phone. "A whole town full. Like....a Frontier whole town full...?"

"Yeppers. Thought that would get your attention."

He wasn't the only one paying attention now. Both Civil and Liberty noticed Karen was sitting at the top of the stairs, listening in with a wistful expression. He had seen that look before. It was the kind where only a few words from her could radically redirect his life's path, if she wanted to. He already had a feeling what she was going to say, but he thought he could head off this latest social intervention. Sitting up, he held his phone in a hoof and spoke slowly.

"Strat, I find it somewhat hard to believe that an entire town would want to visit a pony con anyway. Some ponies just want to live normal lives."

"Oh trust me, they do want that, but they also want to realign some brony thinking and this is the perfect chance. Just the name of the con was enough to mobilize them. There was a song and everything. "

Civil held his hoof up at Liberty before she asked what song it was. He was in no mood. Sighing, the stallion asked, "And the name of the con?"

"Bros Before Hooves."

Shocked, he sputtered, "Good God, really!?!" Liberty fell over, cackling with laughter. He ignored her and continued. "That is such a terrible name!"

"I know right? That's why we are trying to get all of Frontier to go. We figure if we send enough hooves there, we will outnumber the bronies and they will have to change the name next year. You know, since there are more hooves, the bros wouldn't be before the hooves anymore. We count as four each, obviously. You do the math."

Civil rubbed his eyes wearily. He was too tired to deal with this pony shit. "...that....that's not how that works. It has nothing to do with the amount of hooves or bros. It has to do with...you know what, nevermind. Obviously it's a pony shit-"

"Civil!" Both moms yelled.

"-stuff. A pony stuff thing."

"Damn straight it is," Stratophere replied. "So, you going? Baro will be there."

"Baro? You, me, Baro, almost the whole Randolph gang. Is Pink going?"

"Only if you ask her, bud."

"Hm.....wait, the whole town?"

"Yup!"

Ignoring the grin plastered on Liberty's tiny muzzle, he said quietly, "That requires a lot of coordination and leadership to pull off. Community work kind of leadership. Is Pink leading the effort?"

"..........."

"You know, ponies are terrible liars," Civil said contritely.

"That's why I ain't lying. Well?" Of course, she would be going, regardless of if he asked her to go or not. That would put her in Dallas, with lots of questions as to why he didn't visit with the mare he was supposedly courting. Not that he was trying to avoid her, per se......

Groaning, Civil relented. "Alright already, I'll ask her." Liberty squeed and Karen sighed. He shook his head, ignoring them.

There was a pause. "Are you and she okay?" Guess his friend noticed his reluctance.

"We are. Just that...pony cons....I had my share of anime cons in college. Whenever I am near her, she gets me on my back hoof enough already...I don't want to be super awkward with Pink at a convention where ponies in general will be on full display. Not the best dating venue, you know?" And on a good day he thought he had his hooves full trying not to act the fool in front of one vivacious mare. Now there would be a town's worth, AND a convention's worth of humans, AND in the city he was trying to work-

Strat's voice took on a softer tone. "Oh hay, Civ, we got your back. Strength in herds, remember? Trust me when I say, nopony gets left behind in this mission. Granted, Pink sold the idea on tourist recognition for the town initially, but this could really work out for everypony, not just business back home. We're talking about sociopolitical advancement for our species and brand new avenues to explore Harmony in human culture and-" He stopped when he heard Civil mock snoring in the background. "Yah yah, yuck it up. Anyway, don't be a stranger and try to show up, kay?"

"We'll see what my schedule looks like." Strat's reply was dubious in believing Civil would have any legitimate conflicts but his goodbye was still cheery when the phone call ended.

Civil slowly looked between the two females staring at him. He then deliberately turned to the human at the top of the stairs and ignored Liberty. He was racking up ignoring points with the filly today. "Mom, it is going to be really really nerdy, like a comic book sci-fi anime thing, with lots of pony themes. It's all from a show originally meant for young girls that now has girls and guys of all ages gushing and fanboying over us."

Karen tilted her head slightly. "A show based on your real world. Another world dear. With an entire town's worth of ponies visiting, I will finally get to see what your people are truly like from a cultural standpoint. You even mentioned once that you have your own language. Epponese, was it?" She was an ESL teacher at the Collin community college. Of course she would be interested. "I know I don't visit these conventions normally, yet this is a golden opportunity to, dare I say, get to know more of this 'pony stuff' you like to talk about?"

He glanced back at Liberty and saw her absolutely vibrating with excitement. He knew where she stood, IF she could stop hopping up and down long enough....and she was bouncing up a storm. She was also repeating the word 'initiation' over and over under her breath.

"Damn," he hissed between his teeth.

Into The Mouth Of Madness. Convention Style

Despite the lack of an authentic initiation parlor, commonly known as a feather dresser in the seedier parts of Cloudsdale...and despite their mother lamenting on the negatives of ruining her pure pony body, Liberty did have a valid point. Fitting in as a seasoned pegasus, who already had her cutie-mark at such a young age, wouldn't go amiss with some artificial coloration. The hair specialist Karen had been using for her own appointments was incredibly excited to work on such a unique subject. Up to this point, the hair specialist had been working with humans, basically. Occasionally some less than human, her professional opinion.

Naturally, Liberty wanted it all. The mane, the tail, the wings, the fetlocks (Civil outright put a hoof down on that as soon as it was out of her muzzle. Fillies did NOT entertain such stallion flourish) and even a dressing up of her cutie-mark area. Civil was so horrified she would even suggest such an atrocity, even Liberty got the hint and backed off. Karen, on the other hoof, opted for only highlights, specifically the bangs.

After a good thirty minutes of female arguing, Civil bravely stepped in and mediated a compromise. All the ladies were very receptive to his thoughts and ideas. Initially it had flustered him, yet he eventually figured it was because he was the resident expert on all things pony, and more importantly, the topic of initiation. He tried to describe what he remembered, what trends had come and gone, what was considered grotesque (Really, the fetlocks!?! Fillies don't even grow hair....down....there, except those nutters that live out on the plains grazing in the wild and playing guitars and running around with kirin-...no we are not discussing kirin!!!). Ultimately, it was a mix of everyone's opinions. The stylist initially was unsure on feather treatment, but a few searches online got her up to speed. Who knew color alteration was already trending as a new market?

What walked out of the parlor was...well, simply stunning. She retained her copper-colored mane and tail, along with her seagreen coat and wings. The body of her mane was copper with strands of darker and lighter orange mixed in. Toward the ends of the long hairs, the highlights turned bright yellow. It was the same with her tail. Civil had found an old AD&D image of a nightmare online, and the stylist ran with it. Put simply, Liberty's head and ass looked like they were on fire.

The wings were mostly left alone, except the tips of the primary feathers and the last few full feathers. From her original light green color of the sea, the feathers were dyed to transition to a vibrant blue, then dark orange to an earthy umber brown, as though singed by the fiery mane and tail.

Cutie-mark was untouched, over a threat of Civil reciting the five-score curse again. That made her shut up fast. It didn't take all that long to finish up, just a few hours in the morning, fortunately. The convention was set to start noon that day and Liberty wanted her colors at their absolute most vibrant, as though she just stepped out of the beauty salon.........yeeeah.

Once the initial shock wore off, he had to wonder if, perchance, she hadn't already done this before, in her mid-adolescent years of course. Supposedly this was her personality before having a foal, so it would stand to reason she wouldn't ignore her pegasus heritage. She might have even planned a similar session for him, if her sickness hadn't come on with such crippling ferocity. He thought of his home life in that lighthouse on the coastline. His father, Civil Justice, and grandfather Civil Court, smiles forced when they saw him leaning against his mother as she laid there in bandages. In a way, those two were a different kind of pain he would need to reconcile with himself one day.

At some point he must have been staring a bit too hard at the vibrant feathers. Liberty ventured a question or two about what color she had chosen, and being awash with memories of his past, he related those same conclusions he had come to, the impracticality of moving an invalid from the ground to the sky just to dye a few feathers. Liberty did not ask again and the humans let it go as a pony thing.

For now, looking back on it as they rode in the car, he thought of the alternate possibilities of his youth...what he might have lost out on, or ignored things he should have noticed as he struggled with a torn family that most other ponies never had to think about. Or he could have been a tad nicer to ponies in his past because of his struggles, having insight into the reasons why some ponies were habitually bitter. Some of those ponies, he might even see today and recognize.

They had swung by to pick up his Daniel and were headed to downtown Dallas, horrid traffic and all.

"You are brooding," Liberty chimed in after a solid twenty minutes of silence in the car. World record for her. He agreed and nodded. She was intrigued and waited. The brood must have been strong with him today because she was not dogging his ass as hard this time.

He continued staring out the window, his ears swiveled to hear her response. She sat with unusual poise and patience. Yikes. Civil took a deep breath and exhaled. "This con, there are going to be a lot of ponies there, in high concentration. In Frontier they were kind of spread out all over town, so it wasn't so bad. The most we saw were at the arcade, but...I was distracted. I didn't pay attention to hardly any of them." A quick glance at her noted a grin on her face. Distracted was not the word she would have used. He looked away, face warming slightly. "Now, at this convention, all under one roof? Bound to be a few I have not seen since before the curse. I haven't heard of anypony coming over to Earth and getting Celestia's special treatment to stay...uh...ponified, so....yah. I don't know who I am going to run into." He wanted to say more, but wasn't sure how to put it.

Liberty nodded slowly. "Lots of memories. Broken memories, flashes of the past. Unexpected meetings with ghosts and regrets." He winced, knowing memory was a sensitive subject for her. Still, she had been a trooper so far. Not having the benefit of her own memory flashes of the past meant trips like this, and his own recollection ability, were her primary sources of a world she had lived in. Maybe died in. She waved a hoof in dismissal at his concerned look and sat quietly.

He tilted his head slightly. "I suppose you could say I'm remembering things differently now than when I was a colt, a stallion's matured perspective reviewing coltish events. For instance...my pony grandfather, Civil Court. Before he retired, he was a royal guard arbitrator in the courtrooms because he had a truth detection talent. I remember learning never to lie when I was growing up in our household. His wings would glow when a falsehood was in earshot...or something nearby was fake." Civil thought. "That night we got the letter...his wings glowed."

Liberty sat up. "Woh...a fake letter, sent by Celestia, the one written by me!?!"

He nodded. "Your words, her hoof writing, sent by her. Yes. It glowed when they first had it. Later on, when they were discussing the subject and the whole notion of you leaving our herd, they said they should let go of you as though you were dead. He glowed then as well. I never put both instances together. The first time I was very young. The second time, I was a hotheaded adolescent. Both times, I felt they were dishonest...but now it is obvious. The letter was phony, or had falsehoods in it. The falsehood of the letter carried over years later into their discussion and he glowed. Knowing the nature of it, accepting a truth forced down our throats, they...allowed the lie to persist, to protect us for some reason. For all of that, I was angry with Court and Justice. Angry with you both times, as well. First for leaving us, then for being dead instead of just leaving." He tried to smile at the absurdity of his feelings now, and yet, they were still raw in the remembering. His smile came out lopsided.

Liberty gave him a sad smile and listened quietly, for which he was thankful.

"I know you being dead wasn't your fault. Deep down I knew this. But I carried that anger for a long time. Discovering you were Liberty on our trip to Ocean City. It was....weird. So much weight disappeared, and so much more replaced it because you were a foal. Anyway, the letter was to blame, not my sire or grandsire. I know that now. See, normally it was difficult for him if truth and lie were tangled together, his talent couldn't discern the minor details. So, he would use the old noggin to figure out the rest. That was kind of how I got into my love for investigation. Except, with this letter nonsense...." He didn't finish the thought.

"Except, he chose not to," she filled in, voice neutral. "It was pointless, given the loss you guys were facing. Why bother with the minor details when the biggest detail was known. I was not coming back," Liberty said. Civil nodded.

He exhaled. "They chose shame and determination instead of loss and depression. They protected me. Celestia protected me. You protected me. And nopony ever asked how I felt about it...well, nopony asked directly." He stopped talking, now starting to remember a few details from when he was in Canterlot. Many of his interactions with the princesses, his commanding officers, his peers, all of it started to take on a different meaning. Shaking tlhis head as if to get rid of those memories, he watched Liberty quietly.

She reached out to touch his cheek with her newly dyed wingtip. "A tough pill, either way. A tough, dry pill to swallow, if what you say about that letter is true." She sat still for a minute, glancing out the window. Then she turned back to him, shrugged, and tapped his shoulder with her hoof. "Changes nothing. We wait until next portal, pop in, demand all the answers. Kick ass if she resists."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Great plan, until the enemy shows up." Sun Tsu never anticipated alien pony things like Civil and his mom-sis, he mused to himself. Or a near god like Celestia, he added sourly. Liberty might have actual fires to put out on her body if she doesn't watch it.

Their parents stayed quiet throughout the conversation. Dan wasn't good with this stuff, so he stayed out of it. Their mom turned her head to look back at them, her eyes watery. "Have faith. These things work themselves out. We are here for you both. Remember that."

***

Parking around the Kay Bailey Hutchinson convention center was hell. While they wound through the lots looking for an empty spot and slowly started getting further and further away from the front doors, he could see several different groups of people, ponies, the odd kirin or griffon making their way to the building complex. A few flying pegasi coasted low overhead before landing in front of the center's doors.

"Dan," Karen murmured in awe.

Her husband nodded, more focused on the chaos of Dallas drivers than the teeming masses. "I know...."

"So many colors. It's like Disney World. Wherever you look..." She glanced back and saw her children listening to her curiously. "I mean, you told me there would be a lot. I just never...." She drifted off as she resumed her gawking.

Civil nodded. "When I was in the desert for a few months, I got used to the drab tan landscape and pink skies, with all the dust storms that would blow through. When I rotated stateside, what hit me was green. Just....green, everywhere."

She hm'd to herself, finally starting to understand what he meant back in the day. There was a look of wonderment on her face as she spotted not just ponies but other species here and there. This convention was really drawing the crowd. Liberty had her head out of the window like a puppy dog, taking it all in. She shot a look at Civil, glanced up and down at him and giggled. "Compared to all that out there, you are in a desperate need for color!"

He shook his head. "No, I'm not changing my colors just because a bunch of other dingalings think it's 'cool'."

She scoffed at him, "Oh come on, you are going to be a police officer soon. Like, maybe some blue! Or better yet, a touch of red highlights...or better yet, blue AND-"

"Shut it!" He exclaimed at her. "Don't you dare even think about making me look like a squad car."

"But-!"

"Ah ah ah!!! No. N. O. NADA! I already get teased for looking like a black and white in class."

Karen pulled her eyes back into the car, along with Liberty, and they both looked at each other. Karen asked, "Like, New York cookies, black and whites?" Liberty nodded and looked at Civil.

He started to say something, thought better of it, then sat back. "Dad, just park the car. They are driving me nuts."

"Working on it, son," Dan said. After a few more minutes, he put it into park. "We will have to walk, it seems," he mused. Their parking spot was definitely a few streets away. That was Dallas parking for ya.

Karen nodded and smiled. "Good. We should all get some exercise anyway." Liberty and Dan shared a look that said 'yah whatever' but remained silent. Civil smiled at their wise decision of silence. Finally, no more talk about his colors. Red and blue, are you kidding me!?!

The gift of silence lasted all of two minutes.

"Aw. I miss that saddle." She was seated in her usual perch these days when they were on the go; his back. Their parents followed behind, letting the ponies take the lead. "It's a comfortable ride with that on. Why aren't you wearing it?"

"It's too ostentatious-"

"It's too ostentatious," she mimicked in a whiny voice, cutting him off. He so did not sound like that. "Honestly, I have seen your anime costumes-"

"It's called cosplay and I have won an award or two in the past-"

"Yeah, whatever. You should have brought the saddle. Your back is bony."

He chuffed at her. They paused while a vehicle trundled by in the parking lot, then resumed their trek. He glanced to see if she had anything else to clap back at him with. No? "You only want it for the cup holder, WHICH, is where Deadpool belongs."

Slightly mollified that he would choose to show off her gift versus her getting a convenient drink at hoof, she whisked her hoof over the imaginary pommel where the little bubble encapsulated anti-hero would have been, IF there was a saddle to begin with. She replied, "What if Hot Pink wears hers?"

Shaking his head, he replied confidently, "She is not wearing hers today. It would distract from the speech she is going to make at the opening ceremony. Something about the mind's eye as opposed to visual candy....what?" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her wings do little buzz flaps. He had learned early on this meant shock and excitement at the same time, something she had a tough time containing.

"You spoke to her?! Look at the shining knight in love's armor coordinating fashion sense! So, what else did you discuss?" She leaned forward, ready for a juicy story.

"It was private." No juice today, you nosy little pain in my back....

"Yeah, sure," she scoffed, sitting up. "I bet you barely said hello and went right for the saddle question before hanging up, right?"

"No, I didn't!" He sputtered. "I asked other things! Like how she was doing, and the...about the arcade...and the town. And the theme park."

Liberty stared at him while he tried to navigate the crowd at the front doors and glare at her at the same time. Rolling her eyes, she waved a hoof. "Oh whatever, I will find out soon enough. Besides, she probably wanted you to wear it, too." He snorted, not taking the bait this time.

Their family followed the rest of the milling crowds into the large foyer and up the stairs. Karen would occasionally utter something like 'so many' as she and Dan looked around, mesmerized. And not just the colors, but all the cutie-mark variations too. Civil smirked. They had no idea. On the second level they saw the majority of Equestrians and humans slowly filing into a room through a pair of doors. A sign marked 'Visitors of Frontier' was posted on a stand next to the doors.

"Heyo, Civy! Over here!" They spotted a unicorn approaching them. It was Striding Thunder. "Glad you could make it. Hot mentioned you might be bringing the herd on by." Her eyes found the filly riding shotgun on Civil. She squeezed them shut and muttered, "...couldn't lay low if her ass depended on it...." Before they could respond, she gave them an exceedingly plastic smile. "Ah, Liberty, nicely done. Got that ignition thing going on, I see." Aside from the smile, there was an odd pinched look to Striding's face. In a way, Civil felt right at home with that look. Afterall, he had seen that plenty of times in the past when she was dressing him down over some rule he might have broken or problem he might have caused. Good times....

"Initiation," Civil and Liberty replied in unison. The stallion eyed his former CO for a second. "I think you know exactly what to call it and choose not to."

"There are a lot of things I choose not to, and many more I have to."

"LT," Civil said in a slightly sing-song voice to change the subject, "I thought you weren't into crowds. 'Tight quarters means tight fights,' and all that."

She snorted at him. "Case in point." She whisked her horn in the direction of the ballroom entrance, lightly whipping his muzzle with her mane. "Certain ponies of industry put my name in the hat for crowd control, on account of my past service to the crown."

"How big was this hat?" Civil mused.

"Come to find out, there was no hat. So here I am. Right now, I was trying to usher the last stragglers into the main ballroom for the welcome speech. Solidarity and all that. I am also supposed to quell any nervous tension in the room, settle any jostling going on in there. Almost the whole town is here, and then some. You know we even have a few from that one place they set up near Dust's place, New Beginnings?" Civil raised a brow. Dust...oh yeah, Lightning Dust. Good for her. To be honest, he was indifferent about other townships. Lord knew he had his hooves full with Dallas and Frontier as it is. What he did care about was where this conversation was going. Striding Thunder only explained things to those she was about to press-gang into service.

"While I am no longer in the guard," she nonchalantly continued, her eyes boring right into him, "I will stay professional and not grouse about having a few hundred four legged critters, hair-triggered to stampede, all shoved in a stuffy room at the center of a human building. Horrible idea. The location, not the grousing. The horrible idea is just my opinion, unsaid, unheard, and unhelped." There was the thinly veiled signup sheet. Dammit.

"Wait a minute!" Liberty exclaimed. "You just said there WAS a hat-!" A white wing bent upwards and stuffed the tip in her muzzle. She was starting to get tired of tasting that damn wing. He had good aim by now, too.

Civil understood crowd control and its merits in the current situation. Canterlot hadn't aways been a peaceful place. He sighed and said, "Knowing you would never ask me to take up my old role as a guard, I," he paused, not believing he was about to say this, "I...could...keep an eye on the area we eventually squeeze our herd into. That help?"

She beamed at him, quite warmly considering how harsh she used to be with him in Equestria. "Sometimes, you are absolutely brilliant." She briefly touched his cheek with her muzzle and spun around, trotting to the ballroom door. His ears stiffened.

Liberty leaned in close and whispered, "Oh she SO wants y-" and nearly rolled off his back as he started forward quickly toward the doors. He paused just long enough to put a few humans between him and Striding's receding ass. Tail, her receding tail.

To distract himself, he looked backwards to make sure he didn't lose his parents. "Oh, by the way, that was Striding Thunder. She was my old supervisor back in the guard." They nodded to him slowly with mixed expressions.

"We got that, son," Dan said, a huge grin on his face. Karen's brow furrowed slightly, but she said nothing. Civil muttered to himself and slowly led them around the outer edge of the room, trying to get to the side. If something did happen, he did not want them on the train tracks to the door. The room was massive. Huge partitions, normally used to divide the large, cavernous room into smaller rooms, were folded up and tucked to either side against the walls. Three rooms total, opened up to make a massive one, with a stage centered up on the far side from the entry doors...and it appeared the entire town was there. Still, not quite as stuffy as it could be, yet any sudden mental shift by the crowd could prove disastrous.

He made sure they got into a spot they could observe the stage. There were several empty seats and a podium with a microphone already in place. Liberty was just about to complain about her boredom when the lights dimmed, and cheering erupted from the crowd. Many four-leggeds began stomping approval as well amidst the clapping of human hands and wings.

Several humans and ponies walked out onto the stage and took their seats. Consequently, he missed half of what the first human was saying at the podium because he had spotted Hot Pink as one of those seated ponies, and that's all he saw. Her mane and fur sparkled and shimmered under the stage lights. She must have used some kind of glossy shampoo to make her coat glow. Her hooves were equally well cared for, a dark mauve paint or enamel. And her eyes...they had a light all their own-

"Civil!" Liberty hissed harshly in his ear. He blinked and looked around, then saw Striding standing next to him with an amused expression. "Snap out of it. I've been saying your name for like, since, forever."

Striding glanced at the stage and grinned knowingly. "See something you like, space cadet?"

As he stammered for a response, she chuckled and briefly brushed against his cheek with her shoulder with a hello and stood next to him conspiratorially. It wasn't as intimate a hello as earlier, but it just happened to occur when Civil thought he saw Hot Pink looking his way, eyeing both of them. He glanced at Striding to see if she had noticed, but her attention was split in several directions, from watching the antics of Liberty trying to use his neck and head to see over everyone else to the watching the crowd, then the stage, and back to the crowd. She was a mare of duty, if nothing else. It would have been easier if humans were not present, though that would have meant the exclusion of his parents. When he looked back at the stage, Hot was focused on Frontier's mayor who had just finished a very pony invocation and had begun the welcome speech.

Striding said quietly, "While you were star gazing, I already made my rounds." She regarded the stage. "Ah, the mayor is speaking now. They usually calm down when she speaks. Instinct for following matriarchal leadership, I would wager. " Despite Civil's dubious glance at her, she nodded and flicked her eyes to the rest of the room. "The crowd seems to be in good spirits. Lots of positive energy out there." She regarded Civil for a minute. "You, on the other hoof, could possibly do with a salt lick. Was it that bad under me and Princess Celestia?"

He huffed derisively but went back to watching the crowd as he promised. At length, he shook his head no.

Liberty leaned forward and whispered over his head, "He's just scared he'll see somepony he had issues with, or had past fweewings with, or past wewationshwips with-"

He jostled her to shut her up. "Nothing worth mentioning, ma'am." Liberty gripped his neck tighter and glared.

"Mm," Striding mused, "I don't remember too many Canterlot civies that got into it with him back in the day. Nobles and foreign dignitaries, that was his cup of tea. And I didn't see any of those in today's crowd, so there's that." She snorted to herself softly. "Some memories are better than others. The ones I CAN remember." Grinning at Civil, she added, "Still, my memory is spottier than yours. You did get a bonified CMCTR, right?" Civil rolled his eyes and nodded.

Liberty asked, "Huh? See-em-tee...?"

Civil muttered, "CMC Total Recall. One free for every Equestrian coming back home for the first time. Mandatory for ponies still in the guard. That was one of the first messages we sent back from the other side after the battle. Was an absolute boon, considering we were having to piece together all of civilization. Sending back word to Earth of that discovery was an absolute priority. To spread hope, as Celestia would put it."

Striding's gaze narrowed, "She's still your princess, no matter what world you are in." Civil glanced away, saying nothing. Her tone softened. "At any rate, since I am retired from the guard, and not returning, I don't get one of those brain boosts." Addressing Liberty directly, she said, "The Cutie Mark Crusaders can revive one's full memory, IF you are on the other side of the portal and reach out to them. I did hear through the grapevine that they might hop on over this side and do a memory revival tour, or some nonsense. Maybe in a couple of openings, possibly. Just a rumor though, so I wouldn't chew hay over it."

Liberty got a strange look on her face.

Civil and his parents watched her with concern. The filly appeared torn, looking from Striding to Civil, to Karen and Dan. Civil said quietly, "It's not guaranteed, especially in your situation. We don't even know if it would make things worse, seeing as how reciting the curse had such an impact on you. And we could get stuck there for two and a half years." He paused in thought, then added, "We might not want to come back, too."

The mayor moved on to highlight points of interest in the very young and quickly growing town of Frontier, pony built and welcoming to all.

"I wouldn't see it as being stuck," Liberty responded, more upbeat now. "Just, maybe a long vacation. Oh, they could join us!" She pointed to their parents. Dan had a boyishly optimistic look while Karen scowled slightly.

"Walk on all fours for three years? What would I do there, anyway?" Karen looked over at her husband. "Dan, don't even think it." He pouted slightly and raised his arms in his classic argument move. "Lockheed would fire you after missing work that long."

Pausing, he mumbled low enough so only his wife could hear. The lowering of his arms had already signaled his defeat. The word 'sabbatical' reached Civil's ears while Karen replied with a list of things to worry about; the mortgage, utilities, being left alone waiting for her family to return, if they returned. The dreamy look faded from Dan's face. Civil would mention the three-day window at a later time. Now seemed not the right time.

Karen took that moment to reach out to Striding and whispered, "Miss Thunder, my name is Karen Barringer. We didn't get to introduce ourselves earlier. This is Daniel. We are very pleased to meet you. I understand you were my son's boss before he...well, before he became my son, it seems."

The mare grinned and let the woman hold her hoof in a shake. "Striding is fine. Yes, he was assigned to my unit in the city and castle, and I have no permanent complaints about him." Karen's eyebrow raised.

"Oh? What would be a permanent complaint?"

Civil saw that look on his human mother's face. She had lost some of her warmth and was contemplating a few verbal weapons to defend her son with if need be. She could be very protective of her children. He took a step forward to try and head this off.

"Let's just say he challenged our ability to boast that we in the EUC can fix anything," Striding replied. "He does get into stuff." He groaned, putting his hoof down from the next step he was about to take.

Karen mused softly as her smile returned. "Yes. That he does. I am glad you were there to keep things, non-permanent?"

Striding nodded, laughingly agreeing, "Non-permanent, indeed." She craned her neck around. "Well, about those past ponies you were so worried about, Civil, do you see anypony you recognize? I might know them as they are now, versus say, when you knew them. They might have changed. Twenty-five years as a human can do that to some folk."

"Sort of," he said. "I've seen some I vaguely knew in passing. A shop keeper here, a fellow guard I played a few card games with at the barracks. Hm, there's Abstract Living." Indeed, they could see the old unicorn off to the side, leaning against the wall in a seated position, looking absolutely bored. Liberty craned her neck and giggled. Civil glanced around some more. "Also, a citizen I caught pilfering a flower box once. There's a soup shop clerk. They used to have some good noodles....oh, there's that pizza mare."

"From Equestria?" Striding asked, glancing in the same direction he was looking.

"No...uh, that place we went to in Frontier, the mare with the Pac-Man cutie mark."

Liberty coughed behind a dainty hoof. "Um, that's a pizza, dufus."

"Wuh?" He was partially distracted as the mayor had moved on to the economic aspects of Frontier, namely several prosperous attractions and, coincidentally, the best damn arcade that side of the Pecos. He tore his gaze away from the stage to figure out what Liberty was talking about, completely missing the moment Hot Pink stood up to talk about said attractions. He stared back at the pizza waitress. True, he had the keen vision of a pegasus. But....was that really...?

A pizza, shaped as a Pac-Man. Eating pepperoni dots. Liberty tapped his head. "Seriously, you didn't get the symbolism?? There was like, always a Pac-Man machine in the pizza parlors when we were in Houston. Don't you remember? And I'm the blank slate here."

He ignored the dig. "Yah, I get the Pac-Man reference, but a pizza crossover on top of that?" He continued to examine the mark. The poor mare still hadn't noticed a whole herd was oggling her flank. He looked up and shook his head in slight embarrassment, mostly for being distracted. He would much rather see somepony else's...ahem. "Naw, I actually didn't catch that."

Liberty rolled her eyes in disgust. "Always just video games with you. Tron, Galaga, Moon Patrol. They never get rid of those oldies." Civil ignored her ramblings of classics and went back to watching the stage. The conversation with these two had lost its appeal a few flanks ago.

Striding finally saw the mare. "Oh yeah, that's Mary Nara. Glad she got the weekend off to see the con. Wasn't sure she'd make it. It's been nonstop busy with all the tourism these days at a lot of the businesses at Frontier. They hire me as a guide when it gets really busy. It's mostly to just keep the peace, I assume, but I don't mind. One of our tour stops is for authentic pony pizza. I mentioned that last time, didn't I?"

Civil responded, "Sort of, in passing. Before you went all MI:6 on us." Striding snorted, but went back to eyeing the crowd. She felt a little guilty for letting her watch over the occupants get distracted. Civil has that effect, she mused to herself.

Daniel snickered, barely containing his laughter. "Mary Nara? That is borderline genius!"

Karen elbowed him softly. "Danny, stop it! This is their culture, be respectful."

Dan ignored her. "Civil, spot some more. Who else do you see?"

Civil shook his head, but scanned the ponies anyway. "Hm. Well, there is Fryer Tuck. He ran that fast food place/hotel, the Tuck Inn. Was the main chef there."

Daniel grabbed on to Karen's arm and bawled into her sleeve. He says in a muffled voice, "Karen, tuck in! And a frier! You say 'tuck in' when it's time to eat, and they have oil friers, and Robin Hood fryer tucks-!" She stepped on his foot, cutting him off.

"I have a masters in linguistics, you don't have to explain everything to me," she grumbled in irritation as she noticed they were starting to cause a scene.

Dan poked his head out and whispered, "More! Civil, I need more!" Karen squeezed his arm alarmingly, but he ignored it.

Civil muttered, "I recognize Bo and his sister Rapsody. They used to run the Hemian Herd Flower shop-"

Daniel could barely stand, he was crying. "Bohemian Rapsody! A flower shop! They call hippies 'bohemians' now," as he nudged his wife's arm. She shook her head with gritted teeth. "And lemme guess, they have a cousin named Nature List?"

"Actually, they do-" Karen put her hand on Civil's muzzle as Daniel finally slid down the wall. Karen stuffed her jacket over his head and glared at Civil.

"Quit encouraging your father. Daniel, behave yourself, you are being rude! Liberty-!"

"What!?! I didn't do anything!"

"Not yet, and don't." She raised her eyebrow. "Don't give me that look, I know you were about to start making up names."

"I was...not...dammit, you are such a wet blanket." She frowned, then lit up. "Oh, but hippies ARE also called naturalists now," She wriggled her brows.

"We are in public!"

Liberty clamped her mouth shut. She knew their mother was in parent mode and at her limit.

Striding watched all of this in neutral silence. Civil wasn't sure if she was amused or offended. He had his answer when his father finally wheezed out, "Just one more, one more."

Karen made a noise in her throat, followed by, "For the love of-"

"Oh, I see one of my subordinates over there," Striding said. "Union Jack. Nothing too special about him. Normal accent, no odd eating habits like mayo with fish and chips." Much to Civil's dismay, Striding's eyes twinkled when she added, "He does have a red coat...."

That did it. Civil hid his head under his wing as his father laughed so loud, several ponies turned to stare at them. What was worse, the pony speaker up on stage paused to look over at their group. It was Hot Pink. Thankfully, the bright lights were keeping her from recognizing them. After a few seconds, she said in the mic, "Um, that wasn't a joke, just a statement of fact about Frontier's future estimates in fertilizer production." She went back to describing the other great details of their fair town. He had just begun sighing when she did a doubletake and squinted. Smiling blandly, she continued her report of up-and-coming Super Pooper Dirt while briefly throwing up her hooves at Civil as if to say 'what the Tartarus?!?' He tried very hard to look away as her eyes twitched at him. His wing moved back up to hide his face from the crowd, and that glorious mare up there.

Striding was starting to slink away into the crowd when he peeked at her. He hissed from behind his wing, "Hay! You know damn well there was no red pony named Union Jack under your command!"

Striding paused and tilted her head. "Oh? How would you know? Unless you were poking around in my personnel files, hm?" His eyes widened, face turned red and he took a step back. She grinned. "Yes. That, I remember. I placed hairs around my file cabinets for counter surveillance, just to see how often I was snooped on. You replaced some, but not all." His eyes went to pinpricks. "I knew about Luna using you to poke around and occasionally pull off a prank or two as part of your pennance." She walked back to him and murmured in a low accented voice, "You're good kid...but as long as I'm around, yer second-best. You might as well learn to live with it."

Liberty, who had been hanging on every word, hopped up and down on Civil's back. "Oh, oh! I know that quote! The Cincinnati Kid! It was a film we had to watch in social studies-" She sputtered as a wing pomfed her in the muzzle to shut her up.

"I had higher orders," was all Civil could mutter out dejectedly.

The older mare grinned and nodded. "Which is why I let it slide. We all tended to have higher orders back then."

When Liberty finally got all the feather whispies out of her mouth, she interjected, "Would you stop doing that!?! Hold up, what pennance?" Civil narrowed his eyes and barely shook his head at Striding, hoping she would not take petty revenge for higher orders carried out.

Quick as lightning she replied, "Certain words were said while certain dignitaries were visiting. The Griffon Empire banned him." Civil smacked his own face with his wing. Just blurt it out there why doncha, he thought.

Liberty had the ignorance to ask, "Banned him from what?"

"The Griffon Empire."

Liberty laughed into her wings, eyes tearing up as Civil twisted his head around. She and Civil stared at each over the tops of her wings, her eyes continuing to water. Striding added, "Plus five hundred hooves near any visiting dignitaries. Remember that one time you had to pretend to be a suit of armor for two hours while they admired the tapestries in the west wing?"

Liberty was barely able to stay atop Civil's back as she choked from her own laughter. Civil then stared darkly at Striding for a very long time. Finally, when Liberty was reduced to hiccups and heaving for air, he said quietly, "Why not tell her WHY certain words were said....?"

Liberty said in a rough voice, "Yes! Do tell! Why certain words?"

In a sober voice, Striding replied quietly, "They were retelling an old war story where the might of their empire would have been quadrupled, if not for the interference of a conniving little strumpet of a feather duster named Liverteats, Liberturd, Liberty or some such silly pony name. Their exact words, mind you."

Liberty sat up straight and got a cold feeling in her stomach. Striding noted her change in behavior and nodded. "They are a boastful race, tending to cite not only victories of the past, but victories that should have been and still could be, a sort of poor sportsmanship warning to scare off rivals. They are a bit more like popinjays than lion-eagle hybrids, though they will swipe your head off if they hear either comparison."

Waiting for a response and getting nothing, she plowed on, "They even take their losses as victories, as though NOT losing any worse than they did was somehow an act of great prowess. The strength of mitigation, they would call it. Poppycock, I call it. Still, it's a thing. PRINCESS Celestia," Striding's eyes narrowed, an earlier reminder that his matriarch still existed, "made us aware of them as potential enemies to the Civil herd after..." she chuckled, "after his little spat with the prince of the empire. She made sure we kept your champion here protected. You see, during that visit I mentioned, our boy Civil was conducting a routine hallway patrol. On passing the doorway to the receiving chamber, he overheard the delegation boasting in typical griffon fashion...only this time, your name was dropped, along with those other names. There were some other unsavory comments I care not to repeat, along with a healthy round of laughter. In he marched, out of his mouth even more unsavory comments marched, and he made a right ass of himself."

Civil muttered, "I did double check what name they were trashing first. Trust but verify."

Striding smiled wryly at him. "Yeah. That rule he remembers to follow. Anywho, back at the pizza parlor, I was taken aback by your existence, little one, so the whole griffon thing skipped my mind, other than the warnings our princess gave us. Thinking long on it since your trip to Frontier, it took awhile to remember the finer details, so there you go."

She scanned around to make sure nopony was giving them undo attention. She said, "I feel you are entitled to this information, especially you, Civil. Being in the public eye may bring up these details, so be ready to address it. And THAT is as much as I know of anything about your...eh, your 'status,' Miss Liberty. Dig further at your own peril. I think my watch over your family is officially at an end. Unofficially, call if you need anything." She grinned. "I have LOADS of embarrassing stories about Sam Spade Civil here and his relentless pursuit for the truth. And trouble. Anyway, I should go mingle before somepony thinks I need to lose my horn." With that, she did slip back into the crowd of ponies, moving more like a predatory cat than a battle-hardened Royal Guard.

Civil's parents and Liberty stared at him in silence as he watched Striding disappear. Hot had sat down long ago and another speaker was up, so he stood there, glumly watching the next speaker drone on about charity programs on stage. Finally, he shook out his wings and glanced back at them.

"What?" He asked defensively with a shrug, "Don't talk about my mama."

Liberty lightly reached out to his head with both her hooves and whispered, "You...you got banned from a whole empire, just to defend my honor?"

He shrugged again, paused, then added, "Don't talk about my mama."

She patted his head lightly, "Civil is a good pony." He nodded as though that was the most obvious thing in the world. His human parents were still stunned and weren't saying anything. After a minute, Liberty asked, "Wait a second. WHY would some foreign dignitaries be bad mouthing me, anyway? What did I ever do to them???"

He shook his head. "The princesses never told me. Figured the comments I made about having me some scrambled eggs pushed the conversation past the point of...uh....civility." Liberty snorted at the jokes. "Anyway, I asked and they were keen on keeping any past interactions of you and the empire, not to mention current interactions of me and the empire, under strict secrecy. I had wondered why my 'pennances,' such as they were, ended up more like pranks the sisters pulled on each other. Even with visitors, they used me as the pawn of their schemes. I always thought I had lucked out on not being tossed into the dungeons. Now, with you being some great hero, they were obviously protecting our herd. Always more questions than answers, it seems." He hissed quietly to himself, "Celestia...."

Liberty nodded her head. When she thought he wasn't paying attention, she motioned to their mother and pointed back at his head, whispering, "The whole empire! For me!" He felt a bit conscientious but wasn't about to dampen her wonder.

Karen nodded and whispered back, "You remember that when you decide to troll him next time." Liberty made a face at her, yet she didn't say anything further.

A con organizer on stage was now getting to the list of events available at the convention. Finally, some meat to this ceremony. As soon as the topic of voice actor panels came up-

"I want to go to the Discord panel!!! We HAVE to go to the Discord panel!!!" Liberty was hopping up and down.

Civil muttered out of the side of his mouth while focusing on the stage, "Shhh! His name is John de Lancie and he isn't Discord. He just sounds like him."

"Well duh, same difference. That's why I want to go, to ask him all about that."

"You realize he is probably sick of everypony blaming him for even sounding like the creature? He's just an actor."

"Then I will treat him like an actor and make moony eyes at him." She started batting her eyelids. It was kind of scary.

"Calves eyes, you mean? Knock that off, you don't do it right."

"Same difference."

"You know you are contradicting yourself with just a two-word sentence?"

"What's your point?"

Civil paused. Knowing where this eventually led, over and over, he gave up. "....I wish I had one. Fine, we go to the panel-"

"Yay!!!"

"-and you do NOT ask any stupid questions. Anyway, with the number of fans that will be there, I doubt they will call on you."

"Yah right, I so got this." He noticed her hoof pumping the air.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," he bemoaned.

She shook her head. As the list of names were rattled off at the podium, "Oh, oh! They said Tabitha St. Germain is here! You know her, right? Hello?" When he didn't respond, despite ears rotated right back at her, she added:

"• My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic – Rarity, Princess Luna / Nightmare Moon, Granny Smith, Muffins, Mrs. Cake, Princess Flurry Heart, Photo Finish, additional voices[4]"

He twisted around, grimacing at her. "You read that off Wikipedia. You even read the footnote number."

"Yah! Because it's correct and you should always credit your sources! Oh! And Tara Strong is here, too!"

"So?"

"She voiced Twilight Sparkle and Lego Unikitty!....and....she voiced Teen Titans Raven." Her tongue snuck out of her mouth, dainty hooves tapping together lightly.

"....."

"I felt that-"

"No you didn't," he said in a slightly higher voice.

"Yes I did!"

Karen leaned in, "Liberty, what did you feel? Is everything okay?"

"Don't you dare te-"

"His withers shivered! Omygod that's like a full body blush! That's so cool, we are totally going to that one. I'm getting signatures, you are meeting your secret heart throb and you can't stop either of us!" He squinted his eyes shut. There were just no words.

Karen blinked. "This Raven person. Teen Titans, these are...cartoons, right? Not real people running around like the ponies and...?" She glanced around, trying to be inclusive of the other Equestrian denizens.

Groaning, Civil reiterated to himself that there were still no words. Eventually he peeked at both his mothers and muttered, "Ugh. It's college all over again. No mom, not real. Just animated characters on television." Karen shrugged. She preferred old classic movies and 007 films.

"Oh whatever," Liberty scoffed. "You are into anime stuff, right? What was that one thing you used to watch?"

".....Ranma 1/2, Tenchi Muyou-"

"Sailor moon, that's the one!" Civil saw several humans and ponies look at him. One or two gave a hint of a smile but the majority looked away, shaking their heads. He lowered his head, "Not so loud. That stuff is old school now."

"Uh huh. Don't you have a signed limited edition issue #1 comic con comic book? And a Polaroid of her signing?"

"....maybe. Why?"

"I want signatures."

He snorted. "Of course destination What's The Point would be all about you, party of annoying. And you have something special for those voice talents to sign on, I assume?"

"Yah, I-"

"-and NOT your chest fluff with a permanent marker?" She started to open her mouth. "Or ANY body part? Christ, Liberty!"

"......then, no."

His jaw moved back and forth in exasperation. "Which means........the dealer's room."

"YAY!!!!!!"

Thankfully, it appeared the participants on stage were wrapping things up.

The human coordinator stepped up and said, "This concludes the opening ceremony, as well as a special welcome to the residents of Frontier, out of town ponies, and most sincerely, you fans who make them welcome here!" There was lots of cheering and stamping of hooves. "Ladies, gentlemen, stallions and mares, I have been informed there is a substantial crowd waiting to see our visitors in the foyer. We have cleared a way through them so you can enjoy the rest of the attractions here in a timely manner. However, I ask that you file out in an orderly manner, preferably pony by pony and human by human so there is no delay or confusion at the door. Please do not read anything into it. A narrow column of guests should get everyone through the crowd outside."

They watched those closest to the doors trying to arrange themselves according to the exit instructions. It was looking to go exactly as expected, Civil mused. A bonified...no wait! A PONified cluster fu-

"Hah!" Liberty snarked. "Pony by pony. You can't get herd animals to move in an orderly manner with words. It takes DIVINE intervention, duh."

Civil blew some hairs out of his face, on account of Liberty was propped up with her front hooves on his head to try and see over the crowd. "This isn't Noah's ark, Liberty, so don't suggest it. We are not animals." Her compressed lips were a dead giveaway.

After a second, she groaned out, "I am not an animal. I am a human being." He stared at her blandly. She perked up a little. "Elephant Man?"

He muttered, "I know where that's from." He made a noise in his throat and glanced back at the crowded doors, then added, "Okay, great crowd organizer, what do you suggest?" The instant the words left his mouth, he knew he had made a mistake.

She lost her glower and started tapping on his skull with a hoof. While it wasn't exactly painful, it was annoying. Along with that Egyptian music playing in the background. He growled under his breath but said nothing. Anything was better than being stuck in this closed in room waiting for the crowd to move. And.....it was a tastefully done metal cover.

Liberty stood up on Civil's head and began to sing, "♪ Standing in this crowd, this herd oasis. I never envisioned it, humans and ponies. ♪"

Twirling around on her hind legs she stood up, wings and forelegs out to each side, still on his head, "♪ Con after con, with this ocean of colored fur! ♪" Her mane blew back with a sudden gust of air, "♪ AC blowing pleasantly, friendly chat to occur!♪"

Several ponies lined up, two by two and began walking in lockstep, singing the chorus, "♪ Pony by pony...Pony by pony. ♪"

Liberty nabbed a microphone from somewhere, jumped onto the nearest ponies and started walking back toward the stage yelling, "♪ I'm trying to remember, lost memories! I've come from another dimension, blank life to live. ♪"

Now the crowd was forming a snaking line zigzagging in the room. They chimed in as Liberty sang:
"♪ Spontaneous music feats of...harmony! ♪"
"♪ Pony by pony. ♪"

"♪ This path I'm walking now is...my destiny ♪"
"♪ Pony by pony. ♪"

The music came back around like the beginning. Civil glanced around to find where Liberty had gotten to. At the last second he saw the mic careening through the air and snagged it with his wing before it could bash him in the head. Feeling the music taking a hold of his soul at this point, he knew what he had to do.

Holding the mic up to his muzzle, he sang, "♪ Every day I fly over...a gray concrete sea ♪" He turned to the stage and spotted Liberty, "♪ My former life was such mess, but now I have you with me. ♪" The filly positively beamed.

Turning to see the town's delegation with Hot Pink watching him, he added, "♪ I have new friends, and a....budding romance!" The mare turned deep red as several ponies leaned in with the back up, "♪ Budding romance! ♪"

Liberty snatched the mic from him, now standing on his back and pointed,"♪ See the lines are moving now...to this pony dance."♪

Indeed they were moving, and singing, "♪ Pony by pony...Pony by pony."♪

The music accompaniment paused with a steady kick beat and a single synth sound. Liberty started moon-walking, on Civil's back, while working an Egyptian move like she did back at Sarah's party. Civil just stood there and took it. Anything to get them out of here.

She resumed her now obviously metal yelling into the mic, "♪ I'm looking for a whole new life now...new memories! No regrets for the past or future...MY life to live!!!! "♪

Sitting back, she stared up at the ceiling, singing:
"♪ Trying to understand this pony...harmony! "♪
"♪ Pony by pony. ♪"

"♪ This new life's journey is changing...my destiny! "♪
"♪ Pony by pony. ♪"

The music shifted again and seemed to set up for a solo. Joy, what will- He blinked as he felt the weight shift on him. Twisting around he saw the filly's forelegs wrapped around a suspiciously familiar electric guitar. It was the one from Sarah's party! And Liberty was whipping out some nasty riffs with it. At this time special thanks can be given to Little V, @LittleVMills youtube channel for providing the music to this effort to get the @#$@#%^ out of here!

Civil began to sang, out of boredom more than anything, "♪ Sitting in this line, I can't help but contemplate...what other travesties, you have to test our fate. ♪"

Liberty responded, hiding the guitar behind her, "♪ I have no idea...what yer talking about! I just sat here harmonizing, just to get us out!!! ♪"

The crowd chimed in, "♪ Pony by pony! Pony by pony! ♪"

Liberty continued, "♪ I'm trying to remember, lost memories! I've come from another dimension, blank life to live. ♪"

Civil muttered, "...we heard this already-"

She countered with:
"♪ Spontaneous music feats of...harmony! ♪"
"♪ Pony by pony. ♪"

"♪ This path I'm walking now is...my destiny ♪"
"♪ Pony by pony. ♪"

The drums got super heavy and Civil sat back on his haunches while Liberty climbed into his head and stood screaming:

"♪ I'm trying to remember, lost memories! I've come from another dimension, blank life to live. ♪"
"♪ Spontaneous music feats of...harmony! ♪"
"♪ Pony by pony. ♪"

"♪ This path I'm walking now is...my destiny ♪"
"♪ Pony by pony. ♪"

Liberty finally droned out one last low guitar chord which rattled away into silence. Most of the crowd was out of the room and Civil's group were close to the doors now. He stood back up and looked at the guitar, then at her. She looked at him, then the guitar, then at him. Slowly she folded it up (yah, somehow it is completely foldable and in tune, neck to body) and stuck it into a backpack their mother was holding out to her. Civil spied it was one of Liberty's old college backpacks. He grumbled, "Was that the reason you were pestering me about the saddle? For storage?"

She looked around at everything but him, then exclaimed while pointing, "Hay! We are here!" He shook his head as they made their way out, their mother giving him a sheepish smile and shrug. Once outside, Civil and the gang peeled away from the column and were able to reach a space out in the foyer where they could regroup. Striding Thunder stood off to the side, watching them intently. After exhaling in frustration, she got closer and grumbled, "This is how you keep a low profile?"

Liberty buried her head in Civil's mane and looked out from the hairs. They heard the unicorn mutter, "How she saved anypony, much less a continent, is beyond me." With that, she promptly stomped off down the hallway, growling at some of the other ponies to move, she had important business to attend to, like the security of this whole damn convention, among other things.

"Your boss is kinda mean," Liberty murmured, raising her head to make sure the coast was clear.

"She was my commanding officer, and she was being nice, just now. She's also correct." He eyed her askance. "You need to dial it back some while we are here. Think you can manage that?"

"Sure. Dischord panel! Wait. Dealer's room!"

Before they could move, they heard someone yell, "Yo, Civil!"

Baro Metric, Strato Sphere and Hot Pink showed up and were walking toward them. The mare had a somewhat cool expression when she regarded Civil. He wasn't sure if it was from her interrupted speech or Striding's flirtations. It certainly couldn't have been that outing of their relationship in front of the whole town. That was Harmony...come on! On second thought, he thought it best to not say anything. Just let the mare take the lead. Civil was a good pony.

Strat did a double-take at Liberty and flapped his wings twice in approval. "Alright, Liberterian!!!"

Liberty chuckled nervously, "Ah, I'm Liberty-?" She pulled back a little. And here Civil thought he was the antisocial one.

"Of course you are! Got the initiation thing and everything! Let's see you hit the primes!" He swung a wing at her and she ducked low, nearly falling off while putting a strangle hold on Civil's neck. Civil tried to move opposite Liberty's weight, which moved his head just enough to get swiped by the stallion's wing.

"Hay, what the fuck, dude!?!" Liberty exclaimed. She flashed a glare at Karen before their mother could mention language.

Strat pulled back and held up a hoof. "Woh, woh. Sorry Civil...you, didn't teach her?" Liberty sat up, curious.

Civil rubbed his face with a hoof and then awkwardly avoided Strat's eyes. "I uh...didn't have time. She did the treatment this morning."

Strat stood straight up and positively cringed. "Oh, come ON! Seriously, she has to learn. This is her birthright. Look, Libs, it's very simple. Hop onto Barry's back and I'll show you. Civil obviously isn't up to the task, it seems." Civil snorted, but let it go. Liberty looked a little hesitant, either from Strat's insistence, or the more presumptuous offer to stand on the other, larger, stallion's back. When she looked to Civil, he nodded in Baro's direction.

"It's ok, Liberty. I trust them. You can, too." She stood up slowly, and with remarkable grace, hopped up, flapped her wings a few times and alighted onto Baro's back. Right away she turned a shade red and avoided looking at the very large stallion she was standing on. To his credit, Baro's one ear twitched while the other seemed focused on Strat. Otherwise, the larger pony appeared somewhat disinterested and was slowly glancing at the ponies and humans walking by, almost the picture of boredom. Civil knew better. It was a tactic parents typically did to make their foals feel brave by not being under their baleful eye, and yet still allowed them to keep watch. He knew she would be in good hooves for a bit...assuming the more energetic of the two males didn't teach Liberty some extra level Cloudsdalian nonsense. Even as a proud pegasus, he could attest to the existence of some loopy shit from that floating city.

Right away Strat rolled into his lecture. "Okay. All pegasi learn this on their initiation day. We may forget EVERYTHING else because of that damn curse, and good riddance, but THIS, we never forget. So first, the wing shake." He slowly went through the motions, this time swinging his wing around and getting her to do the same from the opposite direction. They tapped primary feather tips as they passed, then it was a matter of the initiator coming down while the receiver came up, then trading places, then a few more moves, until finally they both stood sideways to each other facing opposite directions and arched their furthest wings over their back like attacking scorpions to stab at each other, only to flutter the other's wingtips against each other at the last instant. Liberty couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, I know," Strat mused. "It's not a serious greeting. Meant to be flamboyant. Like us!" He stepped back and took a pose, wings splayed, one foreleg slightly raised, hoof tip touching the floor.

"Spbptp, I don't care! I am so learning this. Do it again!!!" She had completely forgotten about the massive stallion she was standing on now. Baro did have an eye on her at this point, just to make sure she didn't fall off doing this move. Normally it was done by two roughly equal height ponies. On top of that, Strat's larger wings could easily knock the filly off if she wasn't synchronized with her moves. Yeah, Baro was a tad more down to earth than Strat was, so Liberty was fine.

Civil shook his head as the other two nutters went through more greeting antics and wandered over to his parents and the mare. The ladies seemed to be deep in conversation and updating notes in their phones while Daniel listened in. He still seemed fascinated by all that was going on around him. He did grow up on a farm, so despite having two children being talking ponies, he was still in awe. "What are you two talking about?" Civil asked.

"Recipes," both ladies responded. His eyes flicked between the two.

"We are opening up a few restaurants," Hot said with a shrug. "Thought your mother might want to know how to feed you guys." After a second, she looked over at the human woman, "I'm sorry. I meant, try some things from our culture. We are still building up a menu of all the meals we remember eating. Quite a few are not...for the human palate? I know you've tried some things with Liberty and Civil already."

Karen lightly touched Hot's shoulder. "It's alright. It was touch and go in the beginning, especially with the formula at first." She smiled appreciatively at Daniel, who in turn put an arm around Karen and whispered something lovey-dovey in her ear. After blushing, Karen said to Hot, "Let me know when you officially open and we will make a trip there to see how these recipes taste. I can follow a set of instructions easily enough. It's the finishing touches that sometimes escape me. Seeing what it is supposed to look like and taste, that will seal the deal, so to speak."

Civil blinked at Hot. "Branching out? What about the hotel line, Mare Yacht, like you had before? You could do a bed and breakfast, something similar to what you were used to doing?"

She shook her head at him. "Not likely. Marriott would sue the floof off me." She rolled her shoulders back slightly.

He stared down and was lost for a few seconds. Laughing, Hot waved a hoof in front of him and he pinked up at the ears. "Gotcha. You are too easy, Civ. In any case, I think I can leave that in the past." She looked wistfully at the other con attendees. "There is heritage, and there is an unhealthy reliance on the past."

Regaining some of his courage, he thought about it for a few seconds, then said tentatively, "What if you went for one of those, what are they, a franchise license? Like a subsidiary of Marriott. Sell it as a pony experience for tourists, in Frontier. The town itself is your advertisement for experiencing all things pony, like free advertisement for the brand name. If it goes anywhere, branch out. Into other pony towns or even some human cities. Eventually buy the full rights to the name Mare Yacht, with a tie-in to Marriott listed as part of the business history and sponsorship. I'm sure several ponies can attest to the originality of the family named business, and you sweeten the pot by keeping Marriott affiliation as part of Mare Yacht's history so anytime someone or somepony visits Mare Yacht, they are getting Marriott advertising as well."

Hot looked at him with shock and true warmth in her eyes. "Civil Patrol, you ARE listening to my business lectures. That....that is truly inspired! Bleach me white and initiate me again thrice!"

He turned deep red. "Ah....I don't think you have to be that drastic....." He could have positively died at that moment, her blurting out such-

"You can get initiated more than once??" Liberty asked. Baro had walked over with her, Strat next to them. The smaller stallion looked away. He was so not lecturing on this one. He was a good pony.

Civil choked and stared at Hot with dismay. She did her best to crush the shit-eating grin on her muzzle. And failed. Her ultimate move was to put a lollipop in her mouth. And still grin, eyes watering with mirth. He sighed and slowly turned to to Liberty. Oh God. "It...it's an adult thing." He raised a hoof before the filly could respond, "When you are physically old enough, we can go over that. I promise. Anyway, did you get your wing thing done?" She seemed to be mullified for the moment. He was so going to pick a funny bone with Hot later, love interest or no love interest.

"Yah! But he won't show me that ladybugs awake jig, like in the TV show."

All the adult ponies stared at each other. Then Hot Pink turned to address liberty, dead serious. "Sorry, hun. We pegasi do not discuss 'that' greeting in civilized conversation." Liberty's eyes went wide. She glanced around and saw another lone winged pony that had paused to eavesdrop on them. When their eyes met, the young mare shook her head disapprovingly and mouthed 'no ladybugs' and walked away. Liberty inhaled sharply.

"No shi.." She spotted her mother's glower and said, "uh, no kidding. That much hate." Several pairs of dark looks saw to the end of that topic and she buttoned up.

Strat nudged her shoulder with a hoof. "Here, let the professionals show you. Civil, look sharp."

Civil right away responded with a perfect reverse slap, under up and upper down, with two diagonal slaps in opposite directions, perfectly timed with Strat. Both spun in opposite directions to slap wings, then spun the other way for another slap. When they got to the last move, instead of standing sideways like Strat, Civil faced him head on, lowered his neck and shoulders in what seemed to be a prepared charge, only to twist both his wings back over his head in a double scorpion attack where he caught Strat's wingtip midair, then Civil flared his own wings forward and out, pushing the other stallion's wingtip away. Since the normal move had Strat's wing tense in a curved pose, it caused the stallion to stumble a step or two away from Civil. Strat spun back around to Civil, not in anger, but in total surprise.

"Woh! The Manehatten Twist. I haven't seen that in years. Baro?"

"Nope," Baro rumbled softly. "The odd visitor from the east coast might mention it when they visited my village. Rarely showed it. Island city pride, they claimed." Too much rumbling for Liberty to stay in control, she hopped up and flew over to sit on Civil again. Eyeing the flighty filly, the large stallion nodded to Strat, "Hadn't seen it in years."

"Yeah....hadn't done it in years," Civil replied, hardly noticing the filly. She quickly got over the shock of Baro talking so much in a single chapter.

"Okay, so now there's this 'Manehatten Twist?'" She exclaimed. "What's that? I wanna learn that now!" They ignored her.

"Wait, you never said you lived in Manehatten," Strat stated. Hot sidled up next to Civil and eyed him curiously. "Hots, this news to you?" She nodded slowly. After a while, it became obvious nopony was going to say anything until he responded.

He shuffled in a huff and muttered. "I never lived there. Why would I say I lived there?" His friends eyed them, obviously aware he was dodging.

"So..." Hot said softly."How did you learn that-" She paused, then grinned sardonically, "-that oh so tantalizing, and difficult greeting? You are full of surprises today."

He mumbled something. Liberty, upon hearing Hot's description and the word tantalizing, was all in fits about wanting to learn it. Still got ignored.

"What was that?" Strat asked.

Civil cleared his throat. "My...mom. My mom taught me...the twist." He couldn't feel more embarrassed if he tried. Karen leaned over to Daniel and told him she would never teach such a thing. Maybe the tarantella because she was Italian, but not...THAT. Civil growled softly, "Pony mom."

All the ponies stood there blinking, not the least of which was Liberty. The filly hopped up and down. "She did? I did? So what's the big-" That's when she started twisting around her wings. "-...deal.....ungh.....dammit. Teach me." It was truly pathetic, watching the poor filly try to move wings that normally fell off doing that. "What was that thing you did, the twist...the twist thing...yow! Ow ow owie, yah that hurts."

Hot sighed, knowing she was partly to blame for getting Liberty so riled up over it. She reached up and forced the filly to put her wings back in their proper resting positions, if nothing else but to avoid muscle injury. "Don't, sweety. I may not know how to do that, but I do know that's NOT how to do it."

Civil explained, "That's why it's called a twist. And not like that. We'll be in the emergency room, you keep that up. It's a learned thing. You have to push forward just so...." He started to lower his head, quickly remembered she was still on his back and stood up straight. Also, he wasn't about to present his tail to his marefriend and parents any longer than what he had already done with the split-second move earlier. "Never mind, I'll teach you later. It requires some uh....stretches, not fit for public." Hot grinned ruefully around her lollipop at him.

"I am SO learning that shit," Liberty said, hooves crossed in front of her.

"No shit," Strat said. "I kinda want to learn that shit now, too."

"Language!" Karen said.

"Yes ma'am," all the ponies responded. Karen stiffened slightly, then nodded. As it should be.

Except for Hot. She was too sophisticated for such speech. And she had a lollipop in her mouth. Stepping closer to him, she nuzzled Civil's cheek. "By the way, you forgot to say hello." He definitely got goose bumps all over, yet he nuzzled back. Liberty gently pranced back toward his rump to give the two love birds some space. After a few quiet seconds, Hot retreated slightly. Taking the lollipop out with a wing, she eyed Civil quietly. He fidgeted slightly, rubbing at one fetlock with his other hoof.

"What?" He finally asked under the scrutiny. "You aren't still upset about earlier, are you." She tilted her head in question. He sighed and added, "During your speech? Or uh...the song?"

Snorting softly, she mused, "Please, that was like, last year already. I know you probably had a good reason to be braying during a speech I had been preparing for months." Dan's eyes widened and he slowly moved behind Karen, who was rolling her eyes at him. "And...I thought the song was endearing."

Civil knew better than to argue. Plus, he wasn't about to play the blame game when she was...maybe...not that upset over it. And the song was endearing. He felt warm inside. Still, Hot was eyeing him for some reason. "Then, what else?"

Giving her lollipop a single lick, she said, "You didn't wear your saddle."

Liberty busted out laughing, hopping up and down and yelling I-told-you-so's relentlessly for the next ten minutes as they all searched for the dealer's room. Civil knew this was going to be a long day.

***

As he expected, the dealer's room stretched before him like an auction house of madness. Not like there was any actual bidding going on, yet the cacophony of noise was palpable, to be sure. Rows of tables lined the walls of the massive room. Tables set up akin to old French military square formations created islands taking up most of the middle of the room. Corridors of tall wire shelves holding all manner of merchandise created stifling hallways of eye candy for the mildly curious to the downright ponyfile alike. Dealers and customers answered questions, asked more questions and discussed all things pony. It was utter depravity from a capitalistic point of view. And all of it was in celebration of his people. He didn't know whether to feel horrified or honored. Both? Plus the sheer number of humans wearing some regalia of pony ears, glitter, accessories, clothing, wigs, hair colored from simple highlights to the obvious Rainbow Dash colors of the entire spectrum, and all in between. A few costumes were two people in fabric stitched giant pony bodies. While nowhere near representative of what they truly looked like, the effort was amusing. Sort of. Getting anime con flashbacks, he tore his gaze away and tried to focus on where he was going.

Prior though, they had approached the door to the room, a veritable mouth to all this madness. Before they could enter, a staff member had to check their passes. Hot stepped aside to have a chat with the human. He nodded, recognizing her as one of the invited guests representing Frontier. He also occasionally checked other entering con goers, glancing at passes dangling from lanyards that were around necks of all shapes and sizes...and colors, too. Striding Thunder was also standing watch next to the staff member, more a reminder for the Frontier folks to behave themselves than anything else. Hot then addressed Striding in a low voice and the two proceeded to exchange words, though Civil couldn't hear above the din of the crowd inside the large room. He did catch Striding's reply, her authoritarian tone cutting through some of the noise.

"....technically, I did see him first...."

The look Hot gave Striding could have frozen Hell over and left some to cool down a certain princess' sun, too. He did see Striding bark out a single laugh to Hot's expression and said a few more things, though Hot didn't react quite as bad after that. When it had looked like both had said their peace, along with a few seconds of eyeballing each other, Hot returned to the group since they had already moved on inside. She acted as though nothing had happened. Aside from a whispered 'poachers' to Strat and Baro, both of them guffawing and shouldering Hot while she whipped her mane about in mock outrage.

Civil knew otherwise. Civil also knew not to get in between two mares...for any reason. Ears got torn that way. He instinctively laid his back. He liked his ears.

Liberty stood on her tippy hooves to see all there was to see. Consequently, she was highly visible, and her coloration caused many fans and some Equestrians to stare back at her as they moved through the crowds at the different tables. Civil made sure his loose entourage stuck together. His primary concern was losing Liberty in this mess, either from someone swiping her off his back as though she were the latest battery-operated toy, to her simply flying off on her own. There was already a standing rule of no flying inside the building, yet young ones, and pegasi in general, were the flighty of the bunch here.

At one point Liberty was waving at the younger fans as though she were a rock star. They in turn were thrilled to be noticed by a small, cute filly and were waving back, most likely hoping to get in a pet and hug, Civil mused. Or swipe her off his back, he eventually thought suspiciously. The academy was really starting to amp his hyper situational awareness. Striding Thunder might have had a point about crowds, afterall. When Liberty started opening up her wings and slowly moving them up and down in a flapping motion, he turned his head to her.

"What the Tartarus are you doing?!"

"I'm flexing my Equestrian heritage."

Narrowing his eyes, he said "We were told to keep a low profile. What do you call this?"

"I call this hiding out in plain view." She underscored that with waving a wingtip at another young human girl who was drowning in her own giggles. Civil thanked the Faustian gods when her parents pulled the girl away to go explore other tables.

"I call it highlighting yourself. And if you even think of doing a Titanic 'king of the world' on my back, I will wingslap you so hard you will have black ink upside your head. I touched up my wings two weeks ago, if you were wondering how dry they are."

She stared at him. He stared at her. She stuck her tongue out, but she did tuck her wings back in. That still didn't stop her from waving occasionally. One pony, what would be considered an old teenager or a very young adult, waved back while trying to dodge the milling crowd around her. She had a light green coat similar to Liberty, but her mane and tail were a shimmering gold blonde. Liberty waved back. The filly waved back to Liberty again.

Liberty started getting a weird feeling. She waved one last time and pointedly looked elsewhere, as though something got her attention. Eventually she peeked from the corner of her eye. The other pony was not there anymore. She sighed. Finally catching the hint and no longer enjoying the fame, she whispered to Civil she was serious now about browsing the wares. Snorting, he nodded. They started really looking at what was on offer in the gigantic room.

Strat nudged Civil while they paused at some cold cast resin kits. Some of them were very nicely done. "Hay, Civ. Barry and I are going to head on. Most of this stuff they sell out of Frontier anyway. Might grab a poster or two for the flat back home. We'll catch up with you later, kay?" Civil nodded at him and waved a wing at Baro. The larger stallion nodded solemnly and headed off, Strat right alongside him.

Liberty's eyes followed the two until they got lost in the crowd. She turned to their mother, "Mom....you caught that, right?"

Karen glanced in their direction, then at Liberty. "Was there something significant I was supposed to notice?" The filly pointed her hoof in the departed ponies' direction, then hesitated, seeing Hot, Civil and Karen watching her. Their father, Daniel, was staring at all the pony stuff on the tables.

"I...well, I figured....mom, come here." She walked out to stand on Civil's butt and made it a point to wave both Hot and Karen over to her while Civil was excluded. He ignored the nutter and examined the cold casts on the table. There was a beautifully painted Luna statue with her standing proud, wings flared. Liberty must have forgotten ponies had very good hearing.

"Mom," Liberty whispered, then looked at Hot, "I kind of felt, you know, warm, talking to Strato Sphere and Baro Metric. I was STANDING on his back, too! And, well, I thought, um," She looked so embarrassed that Hot reached up and gently touched her cheek with a wing.

"It's okay, that's just a physical reaction. We are very passionate when it comes to physical attraction. We are also very sentient and can control those passions. Is that what is really bothering you?"

Karen glanced over at Hot Pink and asked, "Everything is ok, yes? They didn't do anything, did they?" Hot grimaced and shook her head.

"No, most ponies would not do anything bad to a foal. Those two least of all."

Liberty sat up and said, "Wait, why not those two least of all?" This caused Hot to form her mouth into an oh.

"Ah, that's why you are concerned." Liberty glanced away in chagrin. To Karen's bewildered look, Hot stated, "Aside from her small body, she may have noticed that, despite her adult mind and, ahem, sometimes adult personality-" pausing to accept Liberty's quick glare, "-she may have noticed that they do not seem that interested in looking at other ponies. She may also have noticed how other mares regard them. Am I right?" A look of understanding spread across the Karen's face.

Liberty's face confirmed it. Hot added, "And that is a story for them to tell at their time of choosing, not yours. Remember, not all of us remained the same gender." With that, the mare pulled away. Karen stood straight and was content with the explanation.

With new wonder, Liberty turned back to see if she could spot them again. It took Civil a little while to put it all together, from Hot Pink's explanation and Liberty's reactions, all the way back to when Liberty was first dealing with ponies other than him. Her behavior with the doctor and at the pizza parlor made sense now. As much as he did harp on her having a filly's body, she had adult memories of a human in a filly's brain. A very flighty and imaginative brain. She noticed things as an adult, responded to things, sometimes, as an adult, and as an adult, he really should treat her as such, while still trying to protect her. If she was confused about what she should be feeling around males or females, or, in this case, why others were not feeling that way toward her or others, he would have to bridge that gap and be more diligent in his explanations. That also meant seeking advice from Hot, too.

Liberty sat quietly down on his back with a worried look on her face. He leaned his head over to her and said, "Liberty, we'll see them later. If you want, you can ask them how things are done the pony way, including the proper way to date other ponies. More importantly, they may help you steer clear of choices you can't undo. If you have any other kinds of questions, Hot and I can help. That sound good?" She looked up at him and smiled a little, nodding. Seeing the others waiting on him, he said, "Why don't we find some decent material to get signed?" She noddled at them and they moved on.

After having bagged some lithographs, posters, post cards, a couple of vinyl figures, and a few other things, they finally slogged their way out of the dealer's room and were able to track down the hallway which had several smaller dining rooms branching off on either side.

"Um....Civil?" Liberty whispered, "We are being followed."

There was the other horseshoe dropping, he thought to himself. Alright, let's get this over with. He turned around and faced the oncoming travesty he had predicted back in the ballroom.

A young mare approached them apprehensively. As she got closer, she was clearly an adult, though just. Subtle details like skull shape, chest and hoof size were a giveaway. She stopped and almost seemed like she was ready to bolt. Addressing Civil, she said softly, "Hi. Um, you may not remember me," the young mare said. He stared at her. There was something familiar. He shook his head in apology, knowing he was about to feel really stupid in a moment. "My name is Mint Jubilee?" Liberty raised an eyebrow and looked at Civil. And here the filly had thought the mare was waving at her in the dealer's room.

"Oh yeah," he exclaimed. "Back at the hospital. The Hispanic family." He turned his head to Liberty, "You were in the emergency room. The curse, remember?" Looking back to the mare, he said, "You were the g-"

"We met prior to that. At least, I think we did. In Canterlot, at a bar, The Princing Prancess?" This time he was stumped. He hardly drank at bars, even back then. And a bar with that kind of name, ouch.

Liberty guffawed. "Him, at a bar? He hardly drinks, and then it's just foo-foo drinks."

Before Civil could respond, Mint giggled nervously, "He wouldn't have enjoyed this bar. It was for....um....." Her eyes looked up alarmingly at the small pony, and then at Civil and murmured, "....the bar was for filly-foolers, and colt-cuddlers."

Both Civil and Liberty were shocked, but for different reasons. Liberty's one word reply was, "WHAT!?!?"

Civil's shock was more of a revelation. "Huh. That finally makes sense. I mean, I knew I was bad at dating, but no mares would so much as look at me in that place. I thought it was just me."

The mare giggled, this time with more confidence. "It was you. Just.....well....you know, not the right type. I even felt bad when I turned you down for that drink. I could tell you had a good soul." When he smiled sadly, she reached out with a hoof to touch his shoulder. "I'm sorry I brought up a bad memory. I have so few to work with as it is. When I saw you today, that whole incident flashed into my head, about the offer for a salt lick drink, and then you stepped in to defend me from that horrible bully of a mare-"

"Oh yeah! You were the head of the Royal Celebration Team!" By now, his entourage head crept in closer just to listen to the drama. Hot most of all.

Mint blinked at him. "Royal Celebration Team...?" Her eyes started to glaze over, more memories flooding her brain.

"Yes. In fact, that was how I was recognized by the Guard. Word eventually made it to the princesses. It wasn't until later I found out who you were-"

She reared up and put her hooves on both his shoulders, eyes pleading, "You know who I am?!? Please, tell me more. Back at the hospital, you said my name, when I was still human. You said Mint Jubilee and I knew it was true! And the dreams. I thought they were weird before, but then after that name was uttered, they just kept coming. That and the name were the only clues I had when I completed my change. I remembered the bar in Equestria, and random snippets here and there. I remembered when Discord came for me! He said my works were too much hope and happiness to be allowed. To this day I didn't know what those works were, but I could feel them welling up in me to be let out. I was hoping to find you again and thank you for defending me! And if you could tell me what else I did in Equestria!"

He pulled his head back, almost bumping into Liberty. She in turn took a step back and glanced at Hot. The mare was genuinely entertained, which the filly thought was odd, given her reaction to Striding's coziness with Civil earlier.

"Uh, well, heh, you....your name is Mint Jubilee." Her eyes quivered. He frowned at his own statement of the obvious. He glanced at her cutie-mark. "And from what I recall, you were employed by the royal court to head up all major celebrations at Canterlot. Sumer Solstice, Winter Solstice, royal birthdays. You name it, if it was big, you were there. Your specialty was magical fireworks. You would change up what would fall down from the sky, but most of the time it was wintergreen flavored peppermints. They would rain down from some of the most spectacular blooms of lights in the sky." He chuckled to himself, "Also...this is really weird, but I 'think' they got the X-men character Jubilee inspiration from you. I know I can't prove it since they introduced her in...1989-ish, but-"

Mint nearly strangled him as her eyes teared up, "I knew it! I've had dreams of candy raining down from strange Fourth of July displays. Displays I had somehow made! I didn't know if I was obsessed with being a pyro, or candy, or both. There were exploding colors...and candies...I thought I was going crazy, until I changed, and the dreams simply felt more real. And my cutie-mark-" She glanced back at herself. "You know what it means." It wasn't a question, just certainty in her voice, a realization she finally saw a finish line she did not know she was running toward.

He nodded. "The mint leaf for the candy, the firework bursts in mid-explosion for...yah, fireworks. The stars at the centers of those explosions denoting the magic needed to generate them. It is what you were famous for."

"As weird as that should sound, it feels right, somehow." Without warning, her horn glowed a golden color. A single spark flared up and headed straight to the hallway ceiling, which was very high. Before it could hit the plaster, it burst into a small shower of sparkling rainbow lights, which then fizzled into small, wrapped candies that rained down over everyone in the hallway. While the adults cried out in surprise, the children, and several adult ponies, too, ran about collecting the candies and cheering. Among the ponies, plenty of them started reminiscing about past visits to Canterlot and the spectacular shows put on by Princess Celestia.

She laughed, now openly crying. Hugging him tightly, she said, "Thankyou thankyou thankyou!!! I know who I am! You have done so much for me. I don't have anything to give you now except my undying thanks. I will pay you back one day, I promise!!!" With that she realized what she was doing, backed up with reddening cheeks, paused, then hopped forward to give him a peck on the lips and galloped down the hallway to rejoin her human family.

Civil stood there, stunned. Liberty watched the mare go, then looked to Hot. Again, she was smiling, almost in a proud manner. The filly asked, "You are ok with that?"

Hot smirked and quietly replied, "Innocent damsels in distress are one thing. Devious poachers are something else. I think I can tell the difference. Civil, you continue to amaze me with your history." He swallowed and shuffled his hooves in embarrassment. Hot sighed and said, "Which is poor thinking on my part. I already know you are amazing, so this shouldn't surprise me at all." She walked over to him and whispered in his ear, "But I love being amazed by you."

Now filled with more emotions than just embarrassment, he replied, "Yeah. I only knew her from a distance. I didn't know she was...that way. I'm not interested, if you are worried about that."

She chuckled, "No, I am not worried. Still," she added after another glance down the hall, "she is young, shows an endearing quality of naivety, and has much to learn about the world. And herds can have more than two, you know." She bumped Civil, "Fancy some fireworks in the bedroom with an after-dinner mint?" She gave him a husky chuckle as his face turned crimson. Daniel cleared his throat and looked away, not sure if he should add to his son's discomfort.

Even Karen laughed softly, wiping her eyes with a tissue. Obviously she was moved by the story and meant to ask him about it later. When she saw the look in Hot's eye, Karen furrowed her brow, "Miss Pink. You aren't serious...are you? About herds, that happens?"

The mare shrugged, "It would be hasty to make a decision without vetting her. These things are very complex."

Karen's eyes widened. "I...see. So...no issues with, well, her persuasion? Or pegasus and unicorn, um, how should I put this...mixing?" Right away she grimaced at her own choice of words, but she still didn't quite have the cultural vocabulary. Hot laughed and patted her arm with a wing.

"That's a new way to put it. No, no issues. With the way the curse jumbled up leanings and tastes, at this point I figure everypony is due a second whack at things. Even love. As for, heh, mixing, the undercurrents of tribe versus tribe are there, though they rarely rear their ugly head. Aside from a rude comment now and then by ruffians who were dealt a bad hoof in life, everypony seems to be tolerant. Most ponies tend to blend their strengths with each other and support one another in times of need. Mostly. Hearth's Warming reinforces those ideals." She walked over to Civil. "What do you say, Civ? Are you open to mixing-?"

"Alright I think we need to find that voice actor's room, the one they mixed-MENTIONED! Mentioned....early...earlier, in that other room. Before...you know...this way!"

There was no end to Liberty and Hot's laughter, the human parents following the ponies along with other con goers down the hallway.

One particular room had the primary cast of voice actors in it. The more diehard fans of more than one genre were filling into the room. The moment Civil's group stepped in, Liberty tapped his shoulder.

"That's Discord!" Liberty exclaimed. Some of the fans nearby chuckled at her exuberance.

Daniel blinked and scanned the table of assembled actors. "I know him. That's Q! From star trek? You remember, Civil? Come on, help me out, you know what I'm talking about.

"Dad, his name is John DeLancie. He's an actor."

"Yah, that guy. I know him as Q."

Civil grumbled. It was bad enough his dad was geeking out, but his main worry was that monkey on his back, Liberty. He said one word to her. "Behave." She sat primly on his back, tapped her chest with a single hoof like a good little Roman. Snorting, he found a set of seats and made his family take them before they filled up. Before long, a staff member came over and turned on a microphone in front of each actor. John spoke first.

"Before any of you ask, yes I am aware I sound like the villain Discord. Yes, I do care about what has happened to Equestria. Yes, I still find it incredible that there is a whole world out there with pony residents and many of them are here, in this very room and building. And, yes, I am aware I sound like the villain Discord." The crowd chuckled. "Call it what you will, cosmic irony, the intermingled web of fate, or just plain silliness.....and no, I do not know if Q really exists, though that role was magnitudes of fun to play. Now, who has questions?"

Most of the hands and hooves went down. A few stayed up, including two small hooves waving wildly above Civil's head. Eyes up watching her, Civil quietly, slowly, shook his head. DeLancie smiled broadly and nodded to Liberty. "Alright. The tiny one, sitting on the glum looking stallion, fourth row back." He chuckled when Civil's ears pulled back in embarrassment. The room erupted in chuckles and soft laughter. Someone came over to hold a mic near the filly. Civil's eyes went to pinpricks as everyone in the room watched him and the filly.

"Mister Discord, you said in an interview once that Discord shouldn't be redeemed. After everything that we know now, along with stuff that we don't know like my death and lost memory-" a wingtip slapped Liberty in the back of her head, "-do you still think Discord should not be redeemed, or is he redeemable? Or do we right off the bastard entirely."

The room was as silent as the grave. Civil stared straight ahead. He was stunned before she had opened her bigh mouth. Now the thought if killing a tiny filly sometime in the future floated around in the back of his head, warring with several different fight or flight scenarios. Only his years of guard training, and some police candidate conditioning, kept him from complete and utter panic.

John's smile disappeared and he steepled his fingers in front of him in thought. Dan got a kick out of that. Classic Q look on display. After several seconds, John spoke. "What transpired in both our worlds is heartfelt, shocking, and repugnant. I would never condone the death or suffering of any creature, human or alien, to satisfy a television show or a narrative. Neither would I condone it for the self-entertainment of a godlike entity. With that said, my thoughts in that interview were on the Discord character from a storyteller's point of view. Typically I am handed the script when I arrive at the studio, they have me read the lines into the microphone after only a minor skimming of the material and we review the material if more takes are needed. However, if I have an opinion on where the role of a character is going, or if it is not being true to the essence of that character, I make my sentiments known. Sometimes they writers will work in a change. Sometimes, not."

Sitting back he takes a more relaxed posture. "Write the bastard off, you say?" He laughs, which in turn garners some nervous chuckling from the audience. "We could do that. This is my personal opinion. It's alright if you find fault with it. Again, I am only an actor. Consider this, though. Q, Discord, beings with timeless existences next to us mortals. What do we as mortals prioritize in our short lives? Family, friends, love? Material success or meaningful accomplishments? What of the friends those immortal beings have had in the past? To them, those friends wither away into dust as they go on living. They see scenarios play out again and again and again to the point that they can predict everything, not out of some special psychic powers, but out of sheer boredom of seeing it again and again and again. 'We know a thing or two because we've seen a thing or two?' Not just a catchy insurance meme. I have thought on this, moreso with the role of Q than with any other I have had the privilege to perform. And these days, most especially Discord's situation. Can any mortal contemplate eternity, with our limited experience on Earth...or Equestria? I'd imagine even common decency, something a normal person strives for, withers away after a few thousand years. Sanity too, perhaps. Not that I would expect her to go that same route, but I see now that Princess Celestia's...eccentricities...I see they were not simply written into the script by accident, were they? And from some rumors I have from personal contacts, those eccentricities are well-founded."

There was a pause as he let that sink in for the audience. He drink some water from a glass and shook his head, regarding Liberty with a soft smile, not at all the horrible visage of a vengeful Discord, or even the wily deviousness of a Q. "Write him off? No. I would not. Condemn him for his deeds, teach him a better way," he raised a finger while making his point, "but bear this in mind. One cannot change the nature of a thing. Redirect his focus, maybe. Give him something worthwhile to do, but his nature will not change. To force it otherwise, that would be unnatural, and we would be the monsters, then." He spread is hands plaintively, "This is my perspective on the matter. If I have offended anyone, especially the residents of our sister world, for that I apologize. That is how I feel, little one. Anything else?"

Civil glanced up. By this time Liberty had lowered herself to where she was hiding behind his head. She peeked out and whispered something even the microphone couldn't pick up.

"Could you repeat that?" John asked while leaning forward.

She cleared her throat and asked meekly, "...um....could I still get an autograph?"

The room laughed and John chuckled deeply. Civil visibly slumped as the tension washed off of him He was so killing her, screw federal law. "Of course you can. Once the panel is over, we can have a less public discussion on the Discord conundrum if you so choose."

The crowd ooh'd and aw'd. Liberty turned crimson and buried her face in Civil's neck. He muttered darkly up at her, "Serves you right."

The man took several other questions, quite a few surprisingly about other roles he had played in the past. He saw Tara, Tabitha, Ashleigh, Andrea and several others answer questions, and quite willingly after the big tension getter from Liberty, but he was so not daring to grab that kind of attention again. Still, he could at least mention something once they got up to the tables afterward during the signature phase.

Before long the staff reminded everyone of the schedule and the audience got up to form a line at the tables. Two poplice officers stood at either end of the tables to make sure the fans behaved themselves in front of the distinguished celebrities. Being on the fourth row back meant Civil and Liberty ended up in the middle of the line, so there was some wait to it. Hot, Karen and Dan stood to the rear of the room so they could 'let the kiddies have their fun.' Civil wasn't THAT interested. Sort of. Maybe.

He might have bought a poster that had all the characters on there, for a group signing. Maybe.

It was another thirty minutes before they were almost to the table. Civil's ears caught frantic chatter on a radio from one of the police officers standing next to the table. His training kicked in and he stepped out of the line, walking right up to the officer to listen in on the radio. Liberty was asking what he thought he was doing, but he ignored her. The officer eyed him, his elbow indexing his sidearm. Civil didn't make any sudden motions, just tilted his head. The second bit of chatter had more details.

"....female, single stab wound, side alley...."

The officer waved at the other one and circled his hand in the air. Both of them started stepping to each actor as if executing a preplanned protocol. Civil heard them saying the same thing to each person. "We have reports of someone getting stabbed. They are asking everyone to shelter in place until-" He felt Liberty tense, knowing she heard the same thing.

Growling, Civil made his way to the back of the room near the doorway. "Fuck that, not on my watch. Libs, find Abstract and get him to that victim, got it?" He ignored the filly until he reached his parents and the mare. "Hot Pink, Liberty has a mission. Help her find the doctor and get him to a stabbing victim."

"Wait, I don't even know-" Liberty squawked when he jostled her to the side and grabbed her out of the air with a wing, only to sit her atop the older mare's back. Hot nodded and attempted to get Liberty's attention as Civil ran out of the door.

He started to trot down the hallway and took a few turns randomly until he spotted some security guards and a few officers running to the outside doors out in the main foyer. Once he saw their direction, he took to the air and flew, despite a few staff yelling at him about the rules. Just short of slamming into the backs of the first responders, he landed, slipped in between them and out the doors, then hopped up again to flow low. He circled around the north side of the building and ducked under the concrete ceiling that had some of the city streets above. Toward the east side of the large building there was a round dome structure, with a small parking lot tucked in between there and another building along Canton St. This was where several people were surrounding a person on the ground. He landed and slowed down his trot.

It was a woman, not too distinct from any other person he had seen today. Except...the hair. It showed different colors, faded. Before he could think anything, a sound caught his attention. He looked up and saw something fluttering over the edge of the circular building. It was the large arena where they held concerts at the center. Before he had thought to call for attention or help, he jumped into the air, pumped his wings to get over the edge of the roof and landed on the hard platform with a clatter of hooves. He galloped along the roof, whipping his head this way and that to spot-

A heavy body slammed into him, knocking Civil to the roof. Sitting out in the noonday sun, the surface was scorching, burning his back and wings. He struggled to get up and found his limbs and wings pinned by a humanoid figure that had settled down on him. A hood obscured most of the person's face, yet he could see a strong chin, nose...and the eyes. The eyes were a bright green. The figure loomed down until it was almost nose to nose with the rash stallion.

Civil started to move and found something poking the bottom of his chin. He couldn't see what it was, yet deep down, he knew it could deliver a single stab up into his brain in the next instant. He became very still.

The cloaked human looked over the pony slowly, never letting off the thing that was tucked under Civil's chin. The eyes seemed to dull down to a darker green, but Civil wasn't sure if that was the light reflecting off the white surface of the roof. After a few seconds, the figure loomed closer and whispered, "I cannot allow you to sabotage my mission." The person's jaw clenched. Then, in a moment of utter horror, the figure licked Civil on the cheek!

It was at least a minute later before Civil realized the figure was gone. Rolling onto his hooves, he looked around, verified nobody was on the roof with him, and then hopped up in the air. Berating himself for being so stupid as to land before doing this before, he made several circuits around the roof to make sure nobody was hiding, then found his way back down to the large crowd down in the parking lot. By now, squad cars, fire engines and an ambulance had rolled in. He spotted Hot and Liberty standing off to the side, ignored them completely and made a beeline for the ambulance where a gurney was being prepped for the victim. Abstract Living was right there on the ground with the woman, horn glowing while he was arguing with the paramedics.

"You will get your chance to be the hero in one more minute, AFTER I knit the veins, and not a minute sooner." His glare, along with the horn glow, convinced them to standby for a bit. The woman moaned, but Abstract was right there, tapping her arm with a hoof. "There there, sweety, I know this itches. Try not to move. I don't want this opening up right after it's done."

Civil approached and said, "Doc, when you get a chance-"

The unicorn hissed. "Shut up, colt. This is hard enough as it is. I don't do humans. Be lucky I decided to crack open some books after you visited." He spared a single glance up, then back to his patient. "I had this feeling, with the Civils back in my life, these old bones were not getting retirement anytime soon." Civil clamped shut. He had seen enough battlefield dressings to know magic was not forgiving around flesh. At length, the unicorn sighed. "Done. She'll hold. Go!" He waved a hoof at the paramedics. Despite his limping, Abstract was able to dance out of their way while still berating them. "Careful, don't jostle her around. Those stitches are little more than a few tissue layers newly healed. Yank her wrong and the wound will reopen." Civil wasn't sure if the paramedics were paying the pony any heed, but Abstract seemed fine with their handling. He wiped his brow with a fetlock and looked at Civil's beleaguered expression.

"Ok.....son....what else you need?" He panted.

"I was wondering if you could scan me."

The old pony stared at him. "Scan...you?" He glanced at the ambulance as it pulled away, siren blaring. Slowly he turned back to Civil, "For what?"

"The suspect, he...uh.....he licked me."

"....what?"

Civil pulled Abstract to the side and lowered his voice, "He licked my muzzle. Can you scan me for DNA or something?"

Abstract rubbed his temple with a hoof. "Son, any other pony, I would have questions. With you and your mother..." The codger glanced over at Liberty who was standing up on Hot's head for a chance to see what was going on in the ambulance. "...just another day." Looking back at Civil with tired eyes, he said, "As to the subject of DNA, there is pure magic and pure science. So far as I know, they have not blended the two enough to get the result you want. Just get the local police to swab your face. Tartarus."

Civil blinked, remembering his forensics class at the academy. "Oh.....yah, I guess that works. I just thought...well, with magic around, I figured there were new ways to do things. Things we didn't consider back home."

"Huh," the unicorn muttered. "There are always possibilities. I'm just too old to come up with them on the spot. Anyway, I thought you were wanting something else. Not the weirdest request I've gotten, swabbing a face, but it's up there."

"Something else?" Civil asked, "What else would I have wanted that would be less weird?"

Abstract shrugged. "Like another scan of the lady, specifically her wound."

Frowning, Civil said, "But you did that already....didn't you? Standard triage protocol, EUC. That should be nowhere weird at all."

"Of course I did!" Abstract scoffed. "I needed to get the lay of the land before I could sew her back up."

"And.....? You seem distracted by something about her." Civil prodded.

Abstract nodded. "I thought I sensed something...familiar. I didn't have time to do another scan because she was bleeding out."

"Do another one!" Civil exclaimed, turning to the ambulance. It was too far down the street to stop. He paused, looking back at Abstract sheepishly, "Oh, your healing. It saturated the wound. The whole magic signature thing."

Nodding, the older stallion smiled at the younger one. "You remembered. Anyway, I thought you wanted a second scan on her. Can't. With my healing, it washed away whatever it was I felt. I had no time to play detective. She was bleeding out."

"Yah, I got that, now. Are you saying....the wound was magical?"

Abstract shook his head. "No...honestly, I don't know what I am saying. There was an echo of something, familiar. Not magic, per se. A magical attack would have resonated the instant I touched it. On the surface, the wound was done by a physical weapon, that much is obvious. But...there was an oddity about it." He looked away, mumbling something.

Several officers were moving around, attempting to get witness information. Civil eyed them, knowing he would be tied up with them soon. He watched Abstract and slowly asked, "If you...sisters forbid...if you had another body, would you know what that familiar sensation was?"

"A dead body? Yes. The immune system would not be active in a cadaver to clear out the foreign magic, or whatever was left behind. However, for a living body, I would need to fly out the instant it was discovered. Oh, and any other foreign implements working on the body will wipe it. Surgical implements overwriting the weapon used, like...well, like derezzing a VHS tape with a magnet."

"A VHS tape," Civil responded blandly.

"Fine, a hard drive," Abstract grumbled. "Tapes were still around when we were human babies, you know. Metals, minerals, earthy things have memory and can impart it on other things. So a scalpel could very well wipe away whatever it was...bugger me. That damn feeling is going to mess with me until I figure it out. Suffice to say, untouched, I can do a thorough examination. But you need to be damn sure, son. I can't fly out for every clue you come across; these bones can't take the jostling. Or the chariot expenditures." One of the officers walking by had to stop as Abstract stiffly raise his foreleg at Civil. "Hay, officer. Get your physical evidence guys to take a sample of his face. He may have the bad guy's DNA on it."

Before Civil could respond, the officer stared at him. "The suspect licked you?" Several witnesses stopped talking to stare at this new spectacle. Civil cringed and nodded. He didn't trust himself to say anything intelligent at this point, or even explain how the licking occurred. To his credit, the officer merely said, "Hold on." He looked over the pony and asked, "You that new recruit that's been in the news?" Civil nodded. "Somehow," the officer deadpanned, "I'm not surprised you got licked by the suspect." Civil slowly nodded the third time. Yah, a really long day.

"Doctor, sir..." the officer asked.

"Doc is fine, son."

"Yeah. Make sure nobody touches his face. We already ordered PES so they shouldn't be too long. We'll try to process...your face first." He waved over a junior officer to stand guard over the two ponies, and a face.

The unicorn glanced at the pegasus sourly, "Thanks, Civil. Always count on your herd for some USDA Prime pony shi-"

Civil stopped listening pulled out his phone to text his family twenty feet away that he would be held up for quite a while.

***

After a week of more academy classes, along with all manner of rumors and stories getting around involving Civil's new approach to capturing criminals through a process known as CLP, the Civil Lick Procedure, he was finally able to get hold of the detective assigned to the stabbing case back that occurred at the convention center. The victim had survived, and to nobody's surprise, she could no recall seeing the suspect, only that she was pulled around from behind, saw a large shadow and felt the stab.

Civil was able to call the DPD headquarters and get a hold of a detective in Capers, Crimes Against Persons bureau. Detective Weller picked up the transferred line, but didn't have great news as to the direction of the case, or DNA results.

"But the other detective that answered the phone said you had gotten back results from the lab," Civil said.

"Yes and no." Weller sighed loudly, "Sort of." He sounded very tired on the other end.

"You...hit the whole spectrum of possibilities." Civil said in exasperation.

"Heh, you think? So did you. Case in point. First of all, the results were inconclusive. Second, Civil Patrol, you get around.

"....what?"

There was a shuffling of papers on the other end. "Lab found no less than 27 different sources of DNA, and none of which came back to a human male. At least, not the one you described. There was one, Daniel Barringer, your father I believe. We eliminated him from the list of possible hits. Other than that, no other human male suspects."

"Uh, yes, he is my father, and he was with us the whole time.

"Like I said, not on our list."

".....but then...what was the 'sort of?' Was...was one of those other sources the killer?"

"That's just it. Most of them were ponies, the tech said. Mostly. A couple of the isolated strands were garbage, some stuff about broken or messed up strands. He got really into the weeds about it all before I hung up."

Civil didn't know how to feel about that. "How do you mean, garbage? You are talking about DNA strands, right?"

"As they explained it, they found mostly material from human DNA, and pony DNA. So, since you guys first hit the scene, we have been pushing the science community to kick some of their discoveries to our forensics departments, in case....well, in case something like this crops up. Having to redefine a new genetic category to do gel runs on, we might as well be back in the infancy of DNA. The upside is we are making rapid progress with our current methods and technology."

"I am glad we aren't completely scary to you," Civil chuckled nervously.

"Hah. Don't count your chicks yet. We can at least recognize a pony sequence from a human one. That's what the tech said. Something about some illegal research finally being used for good. I saw some of it in the news here and there."

Civil had a sick feeling he knew where that was from.

After a pause, Weller continued, "But the fly in the ointment is, there was some stuff that looked corrupted. First, they thought the sample might have been bad to begin with. After spit balling a few ideas, they arrived at two possibilities, both a bit worrisome. First one....an RNA based vaccination."

Civil got a slight chill. "How would a vaccination change genetic code? All the popular studies say that the...that RNA thing, it can't penetrate DNA. Protected nucleus or something."

"Impressive. I had to look up that stuff myself. Yup, that's what he said. Messenger RNA enters the cell to make it produce antibody material to fight the virus. With a human, not a problem. With ponies...well, some people may have had vaccinations prior to the change. Some after. With the way they pushed for virus vaccinations and improper vetting by the FDA....yeah, who knows."

"So the killer could be a vaccinated pony? He was human. He FELT human. Weighed as much, anyway."

"Mmm, as unlikely as that might be, a pony was the more remote possibility. Or, a more plausible one for a mixed-up DNA source? Silly as this would sound even before the epidemic, what if it was......magic?" Civil inhaled sharply. He should have thought about that. The detective must have heard that and said, "Yeah, you would know better than I. The garbage source was a mix of pony and human code. Could a pony look human and create a jumbled human-pony DNA source? Was this something you might have seen in Equestria?"

As much as he wanted to deny it, he couldn't. "Not having humans over there before the curse...I don't know. It could be magic, like an illusion spell....but from what I know, that is purely visual. The physical evidence wouldn't be that altered. If a unicorn used an illusion and, let's say, chipped a fingernail, it would leave a hoof chip behind. The cloak of magic comes off outside the magical field."

"There is also the rub that, if magic were in play, why use a knife? Why not some, uh, magic kill spell. I've heard you guys have some nasty stuff."

Civil's voice was wooden. "You would have to ask a battlemage or some other member of the EUC, the Equestrian Unicorn Corps. I flew for a living."

"Right. Heh, Ignorant human here, you have wings."

Civil lightened up a little. "I can tell you what I've witnessed in the past. When it comes to magic, it's always a bit more complicated than a 'kill spell,' but yeah, I see your point on the instrument of attack. Almost makes that RNA thing less of a headache."

"At the end of the day, you are an alien species and we are primitives throwing rocks at the moon." Civil snickered at this, thinking of a certain princess and how she would take such a comment. "I have to send up a memo and disseminate it to other law enforcement agencies regarding the magic options for evidence gathering. We definitely need to get a hold of some unicorns to at least rule out some of these scarier theories. The current list of DNA sources will remain attached to the case file, if someone else gets a similar hit down the road. I assume a Miss Civil Liberty has an alibi? She is on the source list, too."

"Yeah. Pegasus, tiny one. She was with me the whole time, as were my two human parents, Karen and Daniel Barringer. Beyond that...actually, how did you get her DNA for comparison?

"We asked everyone around us to submit samples. You ponies tend to be pretty trusting, not needing warrants and the like. At the time, you were being interviewed. You didn't know?"

"Um, no."

"Ah. No sweat. Getting rid of possibilities is the next best thing to actually finding the bastard. Especially this one."

Civil agreed. "Yeah. I don't want to think some....some regular pony I know is the bad guy, much less...a mutant."

"I feel ya. And the garbage sources could be nothing, just theories for now. We are still reviewing cameras to rule out the other sources that uh, got on your face. Cutie-pictures help for tracking them down. Should be a simple matter of sending a few of our people out to that pony town and asking around. Anywho, just stay focused on your studies, pass the TCOLE exam, get a badge. I think you can do some real damage in the criminal world. You seem to have that magnetism for finding stuff."

"Or it finding me," Civil said glumly.

"Yeah....there's that. We call those shit magnets. How you survive determines your worth. And if you remember any other details from the rooftop, please let us know."

"Will do."

He hung up. Slowly turning to go back to the kitchen, he spotted Liberty standing there in the hallway.

"Twenty-seven sources!?! You dirty stud, you!"

Karen's voice chimed in from the kitchen. "Honey, I know you guys are all touchy feely when you meet each other, but don't you think twenty-seven is a bit excessive? Come back and eat, your meal is getting cold."

"Holy shit, Civil-!" Dan exclaimed.

"Language!" Karen interrupted him.

"-now THAT is my son! Still, we wouldn't mind grandchildren someday, and it is a bit tough to get that with just dudes-!"

"Daniel!" She interrupted again.

"What!? I'm just pointing out the obvious...."

"Who he chooses is his own business. And what he chooses. From what we saw at that convention, there is a lot of who and what, it would seem. All those diverse creatures. I wonder if there are any anatomical issues to deal with....."

Civil merely stood there, staring at a laughing filly rolling around on the floor as his parents had their own discussion about his.....fuck it. He walked past the hysterical Liberty and sat down at the dinner table, tuning out all noise and ate his obviously cold meal.

Family.

A Prologue

Author's Note

This story starts two and a half years after the first portal opening in the universe TwistedSpectrum created, the Five Score Divided By Four story.

I rewrote the first chapters to align with what other authors wrote, i.e. Sparky and Kitsy. Any other glaring errors will be received and fixed accordingly.

A Prologue

When the dried blood was wiped away, the now visible mark on the forehead clearly resembled a crescent moon, the points turned downward.

"Goddammit. This shit doesn't get out, you got me?" The lieutenant groused as he eyed the two patrolmen behind him in the morgue. He looked back at the poor woman lying on the slab. "All we need is the fucking media getting a hold of this. Then we get nonstop coverage of the goddamn Moon Killer or some shit."

The medical examiner standing across from him glanced up from her work. The corner of her mouth quirked slightly. "Moon Killer? You coffee guzzlers have an active imagination."

The lieutenant never got tired of her accent. One of the few reasons he came down here. He waved his hand dismissively, eyes drifting back to the knife wound between the body's ribs. "Not imagination, just experience. I'll be damned if I help them sell ratings." He leaned in closer to the wound. "Same injury as before?"

Tapping her chin, the doctor shrugged, "On the surface, I would say so. I have not probed the cavity it created, but the surface tissue damage shows to be a similar instrument, a stiletto with a sharp point possibly, no edge down the blade."

A cough from one of the patrolmen got everybody's attention. The officer was young, yet his eyes were alert. He had a look on his face that showed he wanted to say something. The lieutenant waited a second, then waved a hand, "Go on, Jimmy, out with it."

He stepped forward and muttered softly, "Ah, I know I'm no doctor and all. It's just that...well, you brought me here because I was on the last one, in case I had any insights." When he paused, his supervisor raised a brow for him to continue. "The last one had blood all over the place, like she bled out completely. This one was a lot cleaner. Maybe some drops here and there as she stumbled about, but not nearly as much." The M.E. furrowed her brow and reached over to the left side of the ribcage, pressing on different areas. She clenched her jaw.

"He's right. She bled internally." Her gaze lingered back on the head wound of the corpse for a few seconds before looking up. She met the lieutenant's dubious gaze with one of annoyance. "Same weapon though, just a different angle, at least until I get inside. Like I said, I hadn't gone in yet, but that is different from the last one."

The lieutenant sighed heavily and rubbed his brow. "So the last one bled quickly and this one bleeds internally. Sloppiness, killer improving his skill, or something else?"

She shook her head slightly, turning to her tray of saws and vices. "Theories and motis operandi. I deal with what is in front of me. Remember, you gentlemen are the ones with the imagination."

That draws a dour chuckle from the lieutenant. "Yeah, guesses and gumshoe work. Doc, if you find anything else, text me, okay? I have to put together a morning report that doesn't freak the fuck out of this city." Movement from the other officer who had come in with Jimmy gets his attention. The young man was messing around with his smart phone. "Grayson, I swear to god if you are looking up astrology shit, I'm going to smack you." The officer's fingers freeze. A quick push of a side button and slip into a pocket, the phone is gone.

"Not at all sir."

The first officer takes his position next to the other one. When their boss looks away, Jimmy elbows his partner and whispers, "You know that pisses him off. He's already grouchy as it is."

The older one rolls his eyes. "I just wanted to check something-"

"Check it after your shift." The lieutenant remained focused on the body as he addressed them. "And thanks for the psych eval, Jimmy. Find this fucker and I'll be less grouchy. For now, head back to the substation." They both stiffened to attention, then took their leave. Their supervisor spent several more minutes watching the doctor as she prepped the body for a standard autopsy, marking places she planned to cut. Those included special attention to the head and stab wound locations. He mumbled, "Protests about skin color, religion, non-talking animals, now talking pony animals, if you can believe that." The M.E. glanced up but said nothing. He tended to vent like this after particularly gruesome finds, figuring the dead and their caretaker were not too politically motivated to report him. At least, none of them ever complained openly. "Now this. I swear, if the world doesn't destroy itself, God will, just watching His children do this to each other."

The scalpel hovered just above the ink mark where she planned on beginning her cut, her eyes focusing on the only other living person in the room. "I wouldn't know about God, but we have to believe there is something greater than ourselves, that what we do matters beyond our lifetime, no?" She puts the knife down gently across the woman's chest, covering it with her hand. "Not that I have had much experience in religion, adding to the fact I deal with death all the time." Her gaze sweeps around the room for emphasis, then alights back onto the senior officer. "A single life may or may not matter, but our actions will always move beyond what we can see. Is that not where God is, beyond where we can see?"

Silence reigned as both of them contemplated what she said. The officer shook himself, blinking hard to stay awake. "Yeah, Doc. Deep Thoughts, by Jack Handy. And you say you don't have an imagination." His light-hearted accusation was met with a similar smile from her. "Anywho, I have to get back and handle cleanup of all....this." His arms half rose, the energy finally starting to leave him. "Text me on anything you find, 'kay?" She nodded and he gave his goodbyes, leaving her to her business.

She replied, "Adieu." Her smile stayed on her face until he left. Then she looked down, frowning slightly. "And where was God when you needed him, my poor dear?" She gently touched the body's cheek, the flesh stiff and cold. After a moment, she picked up the scalpel and made a clean slice down the centerline where she previously marked the cut line, beginning her work.

***

Celestia sat up in her bed quickly, heart thumping loudly. The last vestiges of her nightmare were already departing her psyche, yet the importance of it remained. Where was Luna when you needed her, she thought to herself. A single glance out the window showed the pale moon still high in the sky, its face bereft of any image. Not unlike another smaller white landscape bereft of an image she knew of. Aside from a certain pegasus weighing on her mind, she had half-expected to see the image of her sister up there, but remembered Luna was still on Earth and not banished to the moon. So much time wasted in squabbling, never enough in simply enjoying the existence of loved ones, she mused to herself.

And just like that, her head was clear. She hopped out of bed and quickly trotted to the doors of her room, throwing them open. Her guards were already at attention, not that they normally weren't, but they had to have heard her trot across the room. They both answered in unison, "Yes Princess!"

"Yes yes, I need you to track down Civil Patrol and prepare him for a trip to Ponyville. The opening is in a few days and there is too much left to do to let this fall by the wayside." They snapped salutes and sped off...for maybe three paces, before skidding to a stop and looking at each other. One guiltily turned around and raised a hoof. Celestia answered, "Yes?"

"Nopony has seem him for several days."

She stared at them, her waving mane slowing down to almost a standstill.

The other pony answered up, "But we can definitely find him, your highness!" With that, they both took off.

Celestia sighed and stared after the two. Perhaps her dream was an omen, the universe giving her a nudge. Wouldn't be the first time. A passing maid caught her attention and she waved her over. "My dear, can you do me a favor and fetch one of the wizard adepts? I need a tome fetched from the deep archives. Tell him to search right away, do not even bother coming to me first. The book is titled 'The Warped Mind, a Treatise on Space, Time and Thought.' Arranged under Starswirl's forbidden tomes. They have my permission to access them." The maid dipped her head and scampered off toward the mage section of the castle. The monarch hoped it wasn't too late to implement her plan, though she knew he would hate her for it.

Wouldn't be the first time a good deed received punishment.

Last Stop, Mom, Then I'm Coming Home...

"Jetstream, come in."

"...."

"Streams, I know you can hear me."

"...."

"I'm sorry we are ruining your alone time, but this is important. We have a high fast flyer all over the flight levels making ATC reroute too many airlines. You are the nearest one to it, just need you to tag em and drag em. Escort to Randolph AFB, Texas. The unknown is pointed roughly in that direction anyway. Can you do it, sis?"

"Fine. As long as it lets me fly longer."

"That a girl! Denver Center has already uploaded an intercept and you are cleared all the way due regard, just check your smartpad. Looks like this one is sight seeing, dropping out, popping back up. Normally we'd have a 520/2nd run em down, except this flyer is too erratic. Perfect for you to orbit until you get line of sight and pounce. You know I wouldn't personally ask if it wasn't important."

"Yeah, I know." Jetstream glanced down at the pad strapped to her foreleg. It wasn't that much out of the way, but now she couldn't simply drift along her namesakes enjoying the quiet freeflight. Dejectedly she muttered, "Brave Ponies Save Ponies."

A snort from across the line told her that her supervisor, and sister, was still listening. "Damn, girl. If we were to advertise like that at recruitment, they'd run for the hills trying not to join up. Good luck, and make sure you ID the unknown. D.C. has been very adamant to prove or disprove our intercept protocols. Given the recent portal activation, we've been busy nonstop with incoming visitors. And thankyou, sis, I mean it."

Nod nod. "Intercept, ID, hoof in their flank to get them to Randolph for training. Anything else?"

"That about does it. Just relay the info when you get it so we can process them into the system, set up their class date."

"Right, out." Jetstream checked her smartpad, made note of the course and speed needed to merge with the projected track of the unknown pegasus and banked hard, wings compressing water molecules to make contrails behind her as she pulled a tight circle. Set on her new heading she upped her speed a tad, snorting to herself as she remembered an old movie scene from Airplane 2.

Finding the rogue flyer was not that difficult. Denver kept updating her pad as the pegasus showed up on radar. Jetstream was able to catch up to the target well before they could enter Albuquerque Center airspace. Pinning him down, THAT was the hard part. And it would be a stallion, Jetstream groused to herself once she got a glimpse of his side profile. He obviously had spotted her before she saw him, given he was in and out of the towering cumulus cloud structures. The track was jumping all over the place the closer she got, according to the data stream on her pad. He knew he was being followed and he was being an ass about it. Okay, phase two of the intercept protocol, corral and contain. She would swing wide and stay high as the white and black pegasus zigzagged, her more sedate maneuvers cutting off possible escape routes. Pushing him further down got them out of the midwestern cloud coverage, too, leaving very few places to hide. This actually took a couple of hours, though progress cross-country had slowed. Eventually there was a single small cloud over a sparsely forested field. Somehow he had gotten into those trees and hidden his bright fur. Stubborn as a stallion, her sister White Lightning would say.

"What is he, a gelding? Tell him to knock it off, he's wasting our time."

Jestream blinked and checked her comms. "Sis?"

"Yeah. I've been tracking your progress this whole time. Sweet Celestia he's annoying." Jestream grinned to herself quietly. Okay, maybe sis would say something else.

"Perhaps he's scared...hold on, I'm going to try something." Jetstream purposely flew away from the forest and slowly meandered in an expanding circle as if searching further away, but not too fast. She also adjusted her goggles so she could see to the rear while facing forward. The 520th flyers were given goggles specially modded with mirrored vents on the outer edges so flyers didn't have to swing their heads back and forth as much to check their six o'clock.

Sure enough, a dull white shape flew straight up into the cloud. "Gotcha." She wheeled around in midair and sped straight to the cloud, hovering just above before landing hard with a heavy stomp for good measure. The ripples of compression forced a small grunt out of the cloud. She smirked, "Alright, hide and seek is over. Come out."

Civil popped his head out of the cloud a few feet away from Jetstream. She noticed his fur was covered in dirt, leaves and twigs. A lot of it looked like it was rubbed in on purpose, makeshift camo. "Yay. You win. Now what do you want?"

The mare blinked, then replied, "I'm to inform you that by order of the President of the United States, carried out by yours truly of the 520th Air Guard Squadron, I am to detain you, identify you and escort you to Randolph Air Force Base, San Antonio, Texas. Any uh, deviation...of....hm." While she was talking, he had climbed out and just sat in front of her with a dour look on his face. She slowed her speech and paused the more she became aware of the markings on his flank, or the lack thereof, stunning her.

Her sister's voice in her ear had no visual cues, only verbal. "You're doing fine, just tell him the rest, type in his coat, mane, cutie mark, name, and get him down there." Jetstream only had a few other intercepts under her belt, none of them quite this extensive a chase. She supposed Lightning's guidance was to make sure she did everything correct. Stallions weren't the only stubborn ponies...but he has no markings, she thought to herself numbly.

"Um..." She honestly felt embarrassed now. She could already imagine what it must be like. An adult without a cutie mark? Ridiculed, laughed at for being weird, or worse yet, ignored. That was her human past, her change into a pony only accentuating the weirdness of her reality. That is, before someponies had helped her get through it, thankfully. This she could relate to.

"Say it." His short retort popped her out of her reverie. The male in front of her clenched his jaw, almost wishing for a confrontation. "Well? Say it."

"You are a..."

"I'm a...what? Say it, the first obvious dumb thing you can think of." That stung. Not because of his attitude. She wasn't that friendly with others, so she ignored most ponies and humans anyway. It stung because she knew exactly what he wanted her to say, and why.

"You are...an undocumented flyer."

The breeze in the air whispering through their fur was the only sound up on that lonely cloud.

"Spbpt, forget you." He looked away, his mane blowing over his eyes in a rather cute roguish manner. She shook herself and refocused on her task.

"And you require a transponder-"

"Forget your transponder." Yeah, roguish AND muley, she thought.

White Lightning chimed in, "Second thought, why don't you just fine him. No, taze him. Fine him AND taze him. Your EM device is in your back right saddlebag. Early birthday gift by the way, sis."

Jetstream turned her head to the side, "I'm not tazing him, Lightning." Civil tilted his head, curious. "He's pissed because I noticed he has no cutie-mark."

"What!? He's a foal???"

Civil snorted. "You know, I can actually hear your radio. Your ear practically projects sound like a megaphone. Who is that?"

Jetstream's ears flatten a little, though she puffs up her chest in a prideful response, "That's my sister, White Lightning. Major White LIghtning, who also happens to be my boss. I was ordered to stop you from being a national threat to all aircraft and technically give a warning first, but she wants me to fine you and taze you. Not sure in what order. Same time maybe?"

"You're joking."

Both Jetstream and the earpiece chant in unison, "We in the 520th do not have a sense of humor we are aware of." Both she and her sister on the other end paused for a split second, then they both said rapidly, "Jinx! Double Jinx! Triple Jinx!!!"

"With a cherry on top, YEAH! I win!!!" yelled White Lightning. Jestream could just make out light clipclopping in the background static of her earpiece, meaning her sister was doing a celebration dance. The mare just closed her eyes and shook her head.

Civil lowered himself to the cloud and buried his head in the vapors. "And my mothers wonder why I never find anyone. Pony. Whatever."

A soft voice from above made him pick up his head. Jetstream was standing over him, looking down with her head tilted to one side, "You don't hang out with mares much, do you?" A small headshake was his only response. "Look, you are not in any trouble. Much." A wince from Civil showed he must be used to trouble. "In any case, this is just a first warning. Once we get you documented, we'll just fly over to a place where they can train you up and give you some electronic gear to fly safely, that's all."

With a groan, Civil sat up and muttered, "I have to give you my name?"

The voice from Jetstream's comms replied, "Pony and human." Jetstream just shrugged apologetically to Civil.

A long labored sigh escaped Civil's mouth. "Guess it couldn't last that long, oh fragile freedom of mine. Name was Jason Berringer, now Civil Patrol. True color white with black mane and tail. That it?" Jetstream nodded and typed it into her pad, the data livestreaming to the 520th headquarters to create a new record and link existing records to the human name.

"Buck."

Jetstream's eyes widened at her sister's response. She whispered, "What? What's wrong, sis?" A lack of response from Civil was a sure sign he already knew.

"Well, I was right about you escorting him. Now it's a full blown direct order. Do not let him out of your sight. If he tries to escape. Taze him, for real this time, no joke here."

"Um, okay." Jetstream was not confrontational, at least as far as she could remember. Having to physically take down a stallion was nowhere near on her to do list. "I suppose you heard her. We have to fly to San Antonio."

Civil grumbled and flexed his wings, readying them for flight. "Yeah. I heard. Don't worry, I'm not running. After you, flygirl."

She wasn't sure how to take that, if he was mocking her or just coming up with a pet name. Either one made her uncomfortable in different ways, neither of which she wanted to explore. Spreading her own wings, she took to the skies, one Civil Patrol in tow. Several minutes of flight marked silence between them. She made sure he was close enough to count as a formation flight, keying in the request silently to ATC. Just as they were about to pass into Fort Worth Center, a thought occurred to her.

"Forget you? I'm not making fun of your cutie mark situation, but, isn't that a foal's insult?"

Her partner's flying faltered before he steadied himself. "My mothers raised me not to be mean to girls."

Silence ensued for a while. Then she replied, "How many times have you been slapped by girls?"

More silence.

"Twice."

A smile crept onto her muzzle. So he wasn't a complete gelding. "Human or pony?"

"No comment."

***

The rest of the flight progressed without incident. They spotted the installation, got down below 2000 feet to avoid any training aircraft and started to line up with the building where new students were supposed to check in and hold classes. That's when Jetstream's comms chirped, "Not there. Take him to base command. He is to be hooved over to their Security Forces upon touchdown." Earlier, Jetstream had a sickening feeling that she might be taking him to something difficult. The new destination confirmed it. She could already see a retinue of human sentries waiting in front of the command building. Civil saw it as well and was already headed in that direction.

Just before they were about to land, she turned to him and said, "I'm sorry. I don't know what's going on, but I didn't mean to get you into any trouble like this."

He smiled and shook his head. "It's not your fight. It's mine. History dredging up to meet me on my return to Earth, you could say." They both landed. The Security Forces that stepped up to flank him were decked out in full tactical gear, rifles at the ready but not pointed at him. Yet. He turned to Jetstream. "Tell you what. If we run across each other again, let's just say you owe me."

That put her back some, blinking in surprise. "Owe you? Um, I mean, sure, I feel bad about this. I just don't know how to make things better."

It was Civil's turn to pause. "Huh, um, buy me some seafood sometime, I guess." There was the briefest moment where both humans and ponies shared something significant at the front of the command building that day. It was a steaming pile of awkwardness. He turned around long after it was time to hide his beet red face. Yeah he wasn't skilled at any social stuff. Glancing at the soldiers, he quipped, "Ok, let's go. I've had more escorts than I can count lately...and no happy ending in sight." One of the soldiers tried to stifle a chuckle.

A second soldier turned his head. "Detail, march!"

They left a stunned Jetstream outside as the ensemble marched up the steps and into the building. "Um, sis, are all stallions...aggravating?"

"Yes. We'll have a long talk when you get back, with several apologies from me. I'm supplying the beers."

***

They marched down a long hallway, then up a twist of stairs. A few doorways down and they were in the command section. Skipping the XO's door, Civil was led to the waiting room of the commander in charge of the United States Air Force AETC, or Air Education and Training Command. Civil knew what was supposed to happen once word had gotten to the Air Force that he was back, so he guessed this was one the logical outcomes of coming near any military base. That was why he had originally planned never to visit any base for the rest of his life. Screwed that goal up. The other likely outcome of the military finding out their lost navigator had returned was military police showing up on his doorstep one day and dragging him to the nearest cell to await a tribunal. Or summary judgement. Did they do firing squads still? How did the Army put down lame horses....

One of the soldiers barked at him to sit, so he snapped out of his imaginative daydreaming and jumped into one of the chairs lining the wall. A feeling of being in the principal's office descended on him. But this felt worse. A cold sensation filled his core. Normally others say 'pit of the stomach', though it never felt like that. This feeling was lodged just between his heart and stomach, a fist-sized lump of ice threatening to consume his whole being.

While his body wanted to do it's own thing and panic like a common animal, his mind questioned it with all the intellect of an intelligent being. Why was he scared at all? Well...he never left a note for ol' Uncle Sam, for one. Heh. Humor, the ultimate defense mechanism. This led to another thought. The head of all training for the most powerful military branch in the world, yeah army navy marines, eat it...(fine coasties you too, you weenies) a general who has molded the most efficient war aviators that human history has ever witnessed, is about to angrily gripe at a pony! Civil would have laughed out loud if he was in the audience and not the star of this drama. Still, it was funny. He chuckled quietly, that ball of ice melting.

He looked around at the waiting room. It finally hit Civil that he had been here before. Almost seven years ago he was sitting in these same chairs with a couple of other student aviators. He vaguely remembered it had to do with low exam scores, the punishment earned was a requisite reaming from the commander at the time. Could he still be...? "Berringer, get your failing ass in here!" Yes. He was still here. Civil reluctantly left his escort and stepped into the office of Lieutenant General John J. 'Jaybird' Wirthings. Only very close wing men used his call sign to his face. Civil didn't dare.

He snapped to attention, perfectly centered on the desk just behind the two chairs, as was the required 5.5 feet distance. "Civil Patrol, reporting as ordered, Sir!"

The general never looked up from whatever it was he was writing on. Civil always thought it was a ruse, but never asked. "That's your new name? Huh, almost fits today's agenda." He continued scribbling away. At length he stopped and looked up, then down at Civil. "Holy shit, did you get shorter? They not feeding you over in E.Q. Lahlah Land, or whatever the fuck they call it?" Clearly the general was trying to rile up Civil. While public schools had to accomodate all manner of students, the educational institutions of the military had no such restrictions. If a military person could not control themselves, they were not fit for duty. Why the general was testing that now, again, was a mystery. Maybe force of habit. Well, Civil had grown a little since then.

"Actually sir, I was fed very well in Equestria, though my height is more a racial constraint than any result of poor food selections."

Chuckling on the left side of the room indicated they were not the only ones in the room. Using his peripheral vision, Civil could see two others, one was a Captain, G. Chase by the nametag. The other was a Lt. Colonel R. Pascal. The latter spoke up, "Not as easily flustered as you first mentioned, John." A grunt from the general refocused Civil's attention forward.

"Still a touch of sarcasm. Captain Berringer, do you know why you are standing in front of me today?"

While he really wanted to say something snarky, even Civil recognized this setting as a place where he could get his plot handed to him if he wasn't careful. He went with what he knew. "Sir, nobody has told me directly, so I can only surmise it has to do with me disappearing for almost 3 years into another world without permission from the Air Force."

"Damn straight it is, smartass. That's why OSI is here." A wave of the general's hand indicated the Lt. Col who nodded his head. Office of Special Investigations for the Air Force. Great, hit the big time, ol Civil, he thought to himself grudgingly. He clenched his jaw in frustration. No, he wasn't going to hold back, not today.

He stared down the general and groused, "I don't suppose we are going to remember I was sequestered by this same military after I changed, that you guys were going to ship me off to some lab to be 'cured'?" The general adjusted his sitting position, which Civil misconstrued as a sign of discomfort. "Oh yeah, I heard about Spectrum after we finished with the REAL war on the other side. Did you know the true enemy over there was stirring up all the hostilities here? Did you know actual citizens of this country died at the hands of Spectrum, citizens that were handed over to them by the military? You want to squash me for going AWOL, fine. I can live with the fact that I did something good instead of getting dissected by your people." The general was silent the entire time. Once Civil was done, the older officer glanced at the captain.

"And that's why I am here. I represent the Judge Advocate General in this matter." The captain stood up and produced a sheaf of papers to put down on the desk. "This explains your rights as a citizen and military member, among other things. Sorry I skipped ahead, Colonel." The other officer behind him nodded his head. Civil only stared at the papers, not sure where this was headed.

"Not at all," Lt. Colonel Pascal replied. "First things first. Captain Jason Berringer, aka Civil Patrol, do you harbor ill will against these United States of America, against its military members for retribution or restitution, or seek to subvert any aspect of our society, notwithstanding cultural differences regarding your, eh, new form?"

Civil blinked at the Lt. Colonel. "Ill will? No..." He looked back at the general, who he clearly saw wasn't uncomfortable but was merely relaxing as though expecting a long meeting. "I love this country, I always have. I joined up knowing I might have to give my life to defend it. You think I wanted to hang around and get sliced open for science? Any self-respecting American would tell you to piss off." The general raised an eyebrow and nonchalantly covered his mouth, hiding a small smile. Civil looked back at the OSI officer. "I've known two lives, two worlds. I've served in the military both times to protect those that can't protect themselves. If you think I want revenge or I have to pay for being away without permission, do whatever you think is necessary. I'm just here to go home."

General Wirthings leaned forward, "Home? I thought Equestria was your home?"

"It was..." Civil lowered his eyes, staring at the paperwork on the desk. "Now I'm just trying to get to Dallas."

After a quick leafing through some papers from a folder in front of him, the general looked up, "Your human folks, right?" Civil gave him a quick nod. The general furrowed his brow, "What about your family in Equestria? You were originally born there. Why not stay there?"

Oh, because the high ruler of our land kicked me out, that's why. Bastard isn't getting that answer. "The only family I knew died the first day we returned through the portal, killed in combat. My family in this world is the only family I have left." That made the general sit back, the color somewhat disappearing from his face. The silence hung for a minute as all four of them looked at each other, Civil the only one keeping his eyes caged forward.

The Lt. Colonel stood up. "That about wraps up our concerns. John, say hi to Marge for me? And medium rare, please." General Wirthings gave a small nod in response and the OSI officer stepped out of the office, though the general's eye twitched. There was a brief pause, followed by the general waving over the captain.

"In light of your testimony, it appears we can proceed then. Chase, can you tell this winged navigator what's behind door number one?" Captain Chase gave his superior officer a strained smile and moved to the left seat in front of the desk. He indicated Civil to move to the right seat, which he reluctantly complied.

"Alright. In front of you is a document that lists your rights. It's also an agreement to muster out of the Air Force, voluntary separation pay standard for your rank and time in service." Civil frowned and leaned forward in his seat, reading the first page. He assumed the rest was your basic separation paperwork.

"I don't get it, this is not a preliminary court martial meeting? Was I not considered AWOL this entire time?"

The general shook his head, pressing his fingertips together. "A fair number of AWOL cases have been summarily dismissed on the grounds of hardship and societal upheaval. Some actually stayed behind while others returned here after the battle in your world, though naturally their job positions have changed to accommodate..." He paused, then waved his hand at Civil. "As you can see, we are all adjusting. Since the President himself has a daughter that has changed, he's taken a very sympathetic stance on pony issues, especially in the military. Policies are still trickling down, but we are making do so far."

"And how do you feel about it, sir?" Civil's honest question was met with honest surprise from the general. The human scratched his chin for a bit.

"I have the privilege of not having to voice my thoughts on the matter to subordinate personnel." A typical answer Civil should have expected. He perked up when the general continued, "But after today you most likely won't be within the chain of command, so I don't mind telling you. If it makes the military more efficient, then I am for it. Were you to stay and help, we would find a place for you. Afterall, I am told you pegasi are incredible fliers, from delivery capacity to very specialized scout and drone roles. Personally?...off the record, I have to get used to it. That's as good as you'll get for now, Captain."

Civil nodded. Of course the general would be thinking far beyond what the average airman has to deal with. Needs of the Air Force, to include weeding out troublemakers. "So, my choice is to stay, or leave?" He got a nod from the man across the desk. Civil thought about it. More military life? He had never adhered to the group think that most other military personnel seemed to naturally do. He was always the odd one, not because he chose to. That's just the way he was, finding different ways to do things instead of the standard way. The military way. Yeah, he was ready to move on.

"I think I've put in my time, sir. I'm not running away." He chanced a look at the general and saw the man nod slightly. Clenching his jaw, he looked straight ahead again. "This has never felt quite right. I suppose you knew that a long time ago?"

To his credit, General Wirthings smiled softly, a genuinely warm smile the pegasus had never seen before. "I had hoped you would find your place eventually. You have changed since you were last here, not just physically. If you know deep down this isn't for you, there is no shame in walking away. In a way, you can do things now that no other human soldier can do, which would be a loss to our forces if you were to leave. But, if you were not happy with where you were, being here in the Air Force, you would be a broken weapon, a faulty tool possibly as dangerous to yourself and fellow airmen as you would be to the enemy."

The man sat back and looked out the window of his office, "I have had this same talk with other students in our program and some have voluntarily walked away. It was the right thing for them." He looked back at Civil, "Encouraging a pegasus to walk away while some other units are screaming for you guys to join up? Well, this is not one of those times I say 'stay in, do more good for your country.' No, Civil, you've lost enough in serving both your countries." He leaned back and watched the pegasus for a moment. "I'm not tossing you aside because you are broken. I'm here to make sure you make the right decision. You've given enough. Go home, be with your family."

The pegasus looked down at the papers in front of him. He picked up the pen that was laying next to them with his left wingtip and started filling out the signature lines. He couldn't help but reply mostly to himself, "My last order is to go home and be with family." He chuckled to himself.

Before he got much further, the general replied, "Erm, not quite there yet, soldier." The pen stopped midway through his name on the final entry that would mark him a citizen. Civil looked up. "Your official last order is to retrain how to fly legally in our airspace, get certified on your new transponder, and not be a red smear in any of our engines in the future." Civil wrinkled his nose.

"I think I can handle that."

A throat clearing from the JAG officer caused the general to roll his eyes. "And I am obligated to inform you that by waiving an Article 15 trial in lieu of return to civilian life, you will also be on special retainer to the Air Force. We like to keep our Mighty Morphin Power Pegasi toys."

The pen snapped in Civil's primary feathers, the ink squirting from the metal cylinder into his wingtip. In a panic, Civil wrapped his other wingtip around the leaking pen, undercupping his left wingtip. This caused his other primaries to darken black, but at least none of it spilled onto the documents. "Gah...dammit, what retainer?! Son of a bitch, this is crap! Your policies suck!" He barely spared the general a glance as he rolled ink back and forth to keep it from dripping. "Your 'needs of the Air Force' can suck it too. You know what, even your pens suck. I don't need this shit!" He frantically looked around for a waste basket, which Captain Chase just so happened to be holding. Civil dumped the pen pieces in the basket, shaking out excess ink off his wings.

The general had been watching all of this in dismay. Finally he started laughing. "Yes!" He pointed, "That's the cadet I remember! I can always guarantee something is going to happen around you!" He glanced at Chase, "Just be sure you back me up when I tell John. He thinks I owe him a steak dinner." While Civil fidgeted with his now inked wings, the general focused on him. "I believe you are looking at this all wrong. You will not be called into active service. More of a consultant's position, if we come across any pony type things."

Civil grumbled, "I don't know anything about unicorn magic, and I don't dig in the dirt. I know the skies." After causing the ink to spread around on his wings even more, he finally gave up and sighed, staring at the general. "I only know about these," he waved his wings lightly, "and the skies. And pony culture. That other stuff, you'll have to hound somepony else."

General Wirthings grinned and nodded. "That's all we need. You'll get paid like any other civilian for services rendered. Deal?"

A look over to the JAG was met with a nod. Captain Chase stated plainly, "You will not be forced into combat or have to go overseas unless it's a dire situation. Any undo requests can be countered through our office, and you'll be helping out other ponies we come across that cannot immediately relocate to another unit for specialized training. There are other ponies that help our military members as well, but they cannot always be readily available. If you are settling down in Dallas, that puts you near enough in case we need to reach out to you."

He thought about it. He wasn't against helping other ponies, or anybody for that matter. It was the military aspect of it. He leaned forward and delicately used some clean secondary feathers to shuffle through the remaining paperwork. His expected services were spelled out as mostly consultation regarding pony matters, both civilian and military, with a decent retainer fee anytime he agreed...he glanced up at the JAG, "I get to agree or disagree?"

"Yes. Like the general said, things are pretty fluid right now. Having you guys help us would be good for everyone. Forcing you to do something you don't want to do would be the worst thing possible, especially if we are to promote relations with the new government in Equestria, not to mention make up for whatever the military did in error during the early days of transformations."

A nerve resonated. "Like Spectrum?"

This time it was the general that chimed in, "That matter is being handled, by both the government and ponies stateside. That's all I can say for now. So, are you in, or do we have to stick you in a flightsuit and send you back to Pensacola for Aviation Preflight Indoctrination, again?"

A quick flop of the paperwork and an inked feather slapped down on the last part of Civil's half-written name was his immediate response. The JAG leaned over, noticed the fairly unique mark the feathers left and grinned. "Now that's a signature." He stood up and gathered the papers into a briefcase. "I have all I need. The general's secretary can direct you to the out-processing office at Personnel. General?"

He shook his head, "You're good to go. Remember, steak dinner." The captain grinned and nodded, heading out of the office. The general looked back at the pegaus in front of him. Civil stared back. "That meant you too, flyboy." Jumping out of the seat he stood at attention and saluted with his right wing. The general smirked and said, "You are a civilian now, so you don't need to do that anymore."

"It is a sign of recognition and respect, sir."

General Wirthings regarded him briefly, then stood up and returned the salute. "Indeed it is, soldier, indeed it is. Carry on, and good luck."

The ordeal at the personnel office wasn't all that arduous. He was issued a new military ID with an updated picture. The blood type was left blank, guess they were still trying to nail down the many different types present in ponies. Their was a new field, the small picture conveniently left blank, titled 'Cutie Mark'. Yay, belittled by his own ID card.

Next was a trot over to the training building, as pointed out by a young airman along the way. After he logged in with the class coordinator, he was informed the next class would be starting tomorrow, at 0730. Peachy. He hated mornings, another reason he was happy to be out of the military. Everything was 'Oh Dark Thirty' or some derivative.

Finally, he headed over to the base's temporary lodgings. It was your standard onbase hotel, of sorts. As soon as he posted up on the countertop with his front hooves and showed the ID he was holding in his teeth, the civilians manning the registration desk informed him he already had a room reserved, an officer's suite. Hm, at least that hadn't changed. They weren't even surprised to see a talking pony in front of them. There must have been a fair number coming through for training if they were this cool about it. Tucking his ID away, he walked down two hallways and finally came to the door. Using the keycard they had given him, he made entry and let the door close behind him. Looking around, it wasn't bad at all. Small living room with attached kitchenette, single bedroom. All of it clean.

An image of a cartoon posted up near his old ROTC unit in the hallway back in college caused him to chuckle. It was four frames, each one depicting a different military branch. The first was Army setting up tents in a torrential downpour, with one miserable soldier stating 'This is some shit.' The second frame shows a marine in a foxhole with the same downpour yelling, 'I love this shit!' Next is a Navy captain watching a storm-hammered island from his vessel's bridge, stating, 'That's some shit over there,' while drinking coffee. Last frame, two Airforce officers holding luggage walking into a hotel room, stating, 'This room is shit.' Civil laughed to himself again. The best humor is always grounded in truth.

He shrugged off his bags and walked over to the minifridge, nosing it open while his wings dragged along either side of him. After this whole day, he was mentally and physically exhausted, and all he wanted was YES! Finding new life in his wings, he grabbed the snickers bars and cokes out of the fridge, jumped onto the couch and just laid back, basking in the cold sugary glory. Cold coca-cola was like the sky opening up after a dreary rainy day. And obviously he wasn't going anywhere for a while, snickers. Or was it that he wasn't himself right now? Screw it, it was chocolate and caramel with peanuts.

Some time after sating his most important needs of soda and candy, he glanced over and noticed the older style phone in the room with its hand-held receiver on it. He was reminded of the general mentioning his folks. Civil knew he should call, but he was still mentally drained, so much that he dared not speak to his mother lest he start spouting whatever happened across his brain, something he tended to do when he was tired.

"I'll do it tomorrow, once I figure out how long this class is," he told himself.

With a solid plan set in place on how to completely turn his parents' world upside down, he reached over and grabbed the television remote, curious about the news these last couple of years he was away. Without leave. He grumbled to himself and flipped through the channels.

***

Walking across Randolph AFB wasn't quite as bad as he thought it would be. It was a new day, the sun was up, the sky was nice and clear, and nobody was harassing him. Yet. He shook his head, chastising himself for being so negative all the time. This was going to be good. Refresh his knowledge on flight rules and regulations, get some new gadgets and be done with this place. Really, the whole relearning aviation would have a new cant to it now that he's actually been flying, not just dragged around behind pilots plotting dead reckoning lines and triangulating what the fudge ever. He could fly! Really fly! That thought alone lifted his hooves a touch and he practically trotted to the building marked in Google maps displayed on
his smart phone, which was conveniently strapped to the upper part of his front leg. Any lower and he'd likely kick it off and shatter it.

When he got to the front of the training building, a sign clearly marked to direct new pegasi was displayed out front. He followed the directions on it, walking down the hallway of classrooms. His hooves made rather loud noises as he went, attempts to soften them failing miserably. As he stepped into the doorway, he saw everyone else was in place, watching him enter. He glanced at their hooves and noted they had modified horseshoes attached to them, with what appeared to be rubber soles. Huh, how quaint, he thought. He'd have to ask them where they got those.

There were three other winged ponies, not including him, and a smattering of human cadets in the room. The military trying to maximize resources, he supposed. An instructor was at the front of the class readying the projector with power point slides. Civil grabbed the last available seat on the back row. Two of the pegasi looked over at the newcomer, the closest one to his left a cyan male, with a very pink mare left of the male.

"Today's instruction deals with special use airspace. Since you all have already had some flight time, more or less, you should be familiar with this material, so this is just a voluminous refresher. To get your flight certification though, these lesson hours are mandatory so just bear with me for a bit. There will be coffee breaks to keep you focused. To begin with," He pointed a laser pointer at a list of bullet statements on the projector screen, " we have restricted airspace, prohibited airspace, military operations areas or MOA's, warning areas, alert areas, temporary flight restriction, national security areas, and controlled firing areas, typically up to FL180 or 18,000 ft above sea level. There are also Air Traffic Control Assigned Airspace, but we will be focusing on..."

The cyan male pegasus whispered aside to Civil as the instructor droned on, "I think I need that coffee now, if this is the measure of what we're expected to regurgitate for the next seven days. This crap is literally right out of a wikipedia entry."

Civil blinked, "Seven days!? I thought this stuff was only like, two days! It only took that long last time I was here."

The other pegasus raised an eyebrow, "Yeah whatever. They are making it extra redundant for us ponies since they see us as aircraft with minds of our own. A pilot has to go through a lot of checks and procedures to move a plane around. Us? We can do anything on a whim." His eyes drifted from Civil's mane and tail down to his wings. "Oh hey, awesome contrasts! Normally I'm for more color, but you pull off the whole black and white thing like a bitchin' silent movie. And those wingtips, hotdamn! You came back over through the portal, right? Is that what they're doing in Cloudsdale? Seriously, did you go through a second initiation? That shit is sizzlin'."

Civil blinked at the onslaught, then twisted around his neck to spot his own wingtips. Oh yeah, they were still inked black. Dammit. "These? No, that was an accident. I was using a pen and broke it."

The female leaned way back to look at him, the plastic lollipop stick clacking around on her teeth as her tongue moved it around. "Totally hot. I know this bakery up the street from here. They have the sweetest black and whites." She used her wing to pull the lollipop out of her mouth with a loud slurp, licked her lips and eyed Civil up and down, "I totally LOVE black and whites."

The black and white male pegasus stared at the neon pink mare pegasus. The one in between them had his eyes as wide as saucers. Civil swallowed and replied, "Um, yah, they're pretty good. My grandfather used to go to a place called Cuccio's up in Brooklyn. I liked the cream donuts, myself." The mare stared back at him for a minute.

"Hm, too bad." She popped her lollipop back into her mouth and looked away.

The male's mouth hung open. "Are you kidding?" He lowered his voice and leaned over to Civil, "She totally wanted you!"

Civil frowned slightly. "Maybe. I dunno, she's kind of nice looking." He took another look at her, but she was pointedly avoiding him. "I'm just not ready to settle down." The other pegasus closed his eyes and shook his head.

The instructor was trying to talk over the back row conversation, but so far the only education going on was the cultural courtship exchange going on in the back row, the rest of the class paying it more attention than to the instructor.

"Dude, you seriously need to get laid. She was about to-" He stopped and tilted his head at Civil's flank. "Holy shit! check it out, his cutie-mark is invisible! Wait, is your name like 'Ghost Flyer' or something? I'm Strato Sphere, by the way. Friends call me Strat. But hey, can you make your cutie-mark reappear? Hot Pink, Barro, you gotta check this peg out! Invisible mark!" As the other pegasi strained to see his flanks, Civil put his head on the table. The instructor had already given up explaining special use airspaces and walked off, a written message on the white board stating they had a ten minute break.

Civil muttered, "This is going to be a long week."

***

After the long day of training, the other pegasi agreed to meet up at a pizza place off base. Civil had declined and wandered back to the onbase hotel. He flung himself onto the couch and cleared his mind for several minutes. When he did open up his eyes again, his gaze happened to land on the cell phone sitting on the coffee table. He flopped his wing over and grabbed it. He knew the number. It was the oldest and most memorized number in his head, and he was both excited and scared to dial it.

Granted it was only two years since he last spoke to her, normally the worst thing a child could do to a parent, not talking to them for a long time...though in retrospect pauses in communication like that were usually due to bad family relations, not something like a mere hop to another world, busy killing mutated monstrosities, rebuilding a nation, getting kicked out of said nation, caught by the Air Police, dumped in front of his old training commander and almost getting Article 15'd, conscripted to a lifetime of consultation, force fed more aviation training, questioned by hyperactive ponies and hit on by a sex pot. Oh yah, his mother could not possibly be upset with him for not calling her in over two years, he had the GREATEST excuse in two worlds! So the real question was, what would she say when he finally did call.

Civil sighed and dialed the number. Ring....Ring...connection.

"Hi mom, it's me."

"Hello? Who is this?" Figures.

"It's me, Jason. Look, I can't talk long but I wanted you to know I was coming home to visit, or maybe stay if you'll let me."

"Jason? Jason is that you!? It's been so long! We've been worried sick about you, but the military wouldn't tell us anything. Honey, your voice sounds odd. Are you on a military phone or far away?"

"No..no, ma, listen, it's not the phone. Uh. It's hard to explain like this. I'm in San Antonio right now getting some special training. Could you get Dad to look up the event that happened in Washington D.C. a couple of years ago?"

"Washington? Washington D...dear, wasn't that that hoax with the dragon thing and the little horses-"

"Ponies, mom, they were ponies-"

"Yeah, those. So what do they have to do with anything?"

"It wasn't a hoax. In fact, a lot of what you heard about is most likely true, and wacky, and fantastical. I didn't want to talk about it this way, but, did you watch any of those shows that had the pony family on T.V.? Have you heard of Lightning Dust, Irony, anypony like that?"

"Dear, I don't know what you are talking about. You said Washington D.C. right? Hold on, I'm switching phones."

"Mom! I...grr," as he held the phone away from his ear. "No you don't have to run upstairs and use the-"

"I'm on the computer upstairs, dear. But to answer your question, yes, I may have flipped through some programs that had those...'ponies.' Ponies you called them, right?" Typing could be heard in the background. "I saw them on some morning shows, but I thought they were joking..." The typing slowed down, and then stopped.

long pause at both ends

"Jason, are you saying you got mixed up in all that? I'm looking at the internet right now. What I'm reading...this doesn't make sense. How could these creatures exist?"

Creatures.

"Mom, please, I don't want to get into this right now." Took a deep breath. "Do you remember all those discussions where I said everything was connected, that there is so much in this universe that we don't know, that...that our minds are not equipped to know everything. Or how I believed we live in finite dimensions and there existed higher or alternate planes of existence?"

"...Yes...I also remember you tried to tie that into heaven and angels and ghosts, too."

"Um, yeah, I'm still working on that. Let's just say some of that other stuff, the other dimentions thing, I might have encountered. Uh, the reason I couldn't call until now."

Longer pause. "Jason, are you alright? Have you been seeing these...pony...things? Did they experiment on you with LSD? You know they used to do that."

He sighed. "No ma, no LSD. But about the ponies, yes I've actually seen them, worked with them...I would rather do this discussion in person."

"It's okay, dear, you are always welcome to come home. Did you get time off from the military?"

"Well, I'm not in the military anymore. At least the Earth military....>fuck!<" He so did not mean to mention that, or the word fuck to his mother.

"What was that dear? You cut out abruptly, did you say 'Earth' military...wait, what military are you in!?!"

"Please just wait until I get home. I should be there in a couple of days. I have to do some special training here before I'm allowed to fly again. Have to learn how to use a transponder and file my own flight plans now that I'm on my own-"

"A pilot!?! Oh, honey, that's terrific!"

Facehoove, "No! Mom, not-"

"Daniel, our son is a pilot now!"

A male voice in the background, "What? Woohoo!"

Civil's mouth hung open, "Oh god...did Dad just woohoo?"

"Yes, yes he did, dear! That is wonderful news! Did you tell your uncle yet? He was hoping you would get your pilot's license after all these years."

"Ma, it's...it's not what you think. Please for the love of Celest...for God's sakes, don't tell ANYBODY, please? Can you do that?"

In a concerned voice, "Okay, dear. If that's what you want. I don't understand why you want to keep this quiet."

"Just do me a favor and keep my return a secret until I get to your house and explain things. You'll understand then. And then...maybe you'll still love me."

In a nervous voice, "Honey, I'll always love you. Did...did something happen to you? Did you...did you get injured? What did they do to my baby?!"

"Ma! Mom, please, I'm alright. But I might look a little different."

A pause. "Like how different?"

"No. Not, not like this. I know you don't like surprises, but I refuse to do this over the phone. Can you simply honor my wish to speak to you in person?"

A snuffle could be heard before she responded, "Alright, I can do that. Just one question. Are you in any pain? Are you missing a leg?"

He had to laugh, of course she would worry about that. "You know, after realizing I'm finally coming home, I feel really good. Anyway, remember to show Dad that stuff about Washington. And look up Lightning Dust. She was on some talkshows. And ignore anything that says 'fanfiction' or any perverted pictures because then you'll be thinking...just stay away from that stuff."

"Okay, I can do that. You know I can't control what your father looks at after I'm asleep..."

"Ugh, mom, really?"

She sounded slightly better, "I'm just saying. Whatever has happened to you, we'll love you all the same. We'll also get you a better phone. This reception is terrible, makes your voice a bit pitchy."

Groan. "Yes mom, thankyou. I love you too."

click<

His first phone call on his new phone, and Civil managed to upset his mother without even telling her the whole truth.

This was so not going to go well, he thought sourly.