"Ante up," Braeburn said as the ginger earth pony shuffled the deck of cards. Everypony put in their bits and then he dealt. The piles had been equal amounts at first. But the biggest pile moved around the table as the night had gone on. It was nearing the end of the game. Big Macintosh had a mound of bits befitting the red farmer's name in a haphazard pile in front of him. Both Braeburn and Caramel only had a small stack left. Poor Soarin was down to his last two bits. The blue pegasus held them between his hooves as he anxiously waited for his cards.
"You can rub them together all you like," Caramel teased from under his brunette mane, "but they ain't gonna breed!"
Soarin left his bits alone on the green felt. He picked up his cards and looked at the off-suit two and four in his hoof. The cards that landed on the table didn't help him.
"I'm all in," Soarin bluffed, pushing in his last two bits.
"Ooh, mister tough guy," Braeburn feigned, matching the bits of the meager wager with his beige hoof. As did Caramel and Mac. Predictably, Soarin busted. Even so, by the time he went to the restroom and came back, the other two had lost everything as well, adding to Mac's winnings.
But that was okay. Soarin was a Wonderbolt after all. And he never put more bits on the table than he was willing to lose. And that wasn't what tonight was about for him. Caramel and Braeburn finished their drinks and swore revenge for next week's game. Mac collected his bits and headed to the bar. Soarin took a seat on the stool beside him. It would be last call before too long. Mac waved the barkeep over to them.
"Two," he said simply. The bartender put a cider in front of each of them.
"You don't need to buy my ciders," Soarin said. "I'm a Wonderbolt. I'm not exactly poor." Soarin called the barkeep back over. "Two Applejack Daniels," Soarin said, paying with his non-gambling money. Two shot glasses were placed in front of them.
"I kin buy my own drinks too," Mac said, lifting the shot. "With yer money." He grinned. Soarin smiled as well and clinked his shot glass to toast, and they both drank. After chasing it with a swig of cider, Soarin took a deep breath and turned to face Mac. They were the only two left in the bar, aside from the barkeep busying himself with cleaning a mug at the other end.
"Listen, Mac, there's been something I've been meaning to ask you..." Soarin said nervously.
"It's your wings," Mac said.
"Wh- what?"
"That's how we can tell when yer bluff'n," Mac said.
"Wha- oh, okay. Thanks. But that's not what I meant," Soarin said.
"No? Well what's yer question?"
"Well, it's not so much a question as it's something I want to talk to you about," Soarin explained.
"Oh?"
"It's about your sister," Soarin said. Big Mac bristled but he kept the reaction from showing in his face.
"What about her?" he asked in a tone a bit more defensive than he intended.
"Well, it's just that, ever since that day I came to Ponyville to bring that Wonderbolts message to Rainbow Dash, that day when I ran into you in town..." he felt his throat get dry. He took another gulp of liquid courage. "I hadn't seen you since I had left for the Wonderbolts Academy. I was so happy when you invited me to come play cards with you guys."
"Uh... yer welcome," Mac said, hoping that Soarin wasn't going to get 'that way' that Braeburn does when he drinks too much. "So what's this gotta do with my sis?"
"Well, I ran into her on my way here a couple of weeks ago and... well," Soarin scratched the back of his neck as he spoke, "and we really hit it off. I really like her a lot, and she really seems to like me, too."
"Is that so?" Mac said, keeping his voice neutral.
"I spoke to her friends and asked if she was seeing anypony. They said that she wasn't seeing anypony as far as they knew, but they weren't sure. So I figured I would ask you." Big Mac raised his eyebrow at him.
"What exactly are you implying!?" Mac asked angrily as the drinks of the evening began to erode his filter.
"Implying!?"
"I'm getting mighty tired of this stereotype," Mac growled. "Just because we're all rural farmers don't mean that we're all just a rollin' in the hay with our kin!"
"What!? No! Nonono! That's not what I'm saying at all!" Soarin said in a panic. "I just meant if you knew if she was dating anypony at all." Big Mac processed the words. He processed his own reaction. He turned a darker shade of red.
"Sorry," Mac apologized. "I'm still raw about being teased about that sorta stuff."
"Yeah, I remember," Soarin said, recalling when they were classmates as colts. The other ponies used to tease Mac about being a dim mud pony. But Soarin knew that Mac was plenty smart, both now and back then.
"She ain't datin' nopony, so far as I know," Mac said. Soarin shuffled his hooves for a moment at the question. This was it. This was the moment. It was now or never. He chugged the rest of his mug of cider.
"Well... I was just hoping to ask her to be my special somepony this Hearts and Hooves Day. But I'm an old-fashioned stallion of honor. Normally I'd ask her father for permission before asking to court her, but..." Soarin trailed off and the both bowed their heads for a moment. "So... I'm asking on you instead."
Big Mac looked at his old friend and sighed.
"Last call guys," the barkeep said, shooing them away. Big Mac grabbed his glass to finish his drink.
"She's her own pony," Mac said, getting up to walk to the door with Soarin. "You don't need my permission."
"But I am asking," Soarin said as they stepped outside.
"If y'all wanna date... I... I 'spose that'd be fine by me," Mac said at last, drinking the rest of his cider.
"Really!? Thank's Mac! You're the best! " Soarin shouted gleefully as he took off into the air, flying a loop in joy before flying away. "I'll go pick her up from Miss Cheerilee's class tomorrow!"
Big Mac spat out his drink. "Wait! You mean THAT sister!?!?"
