Somewhere, Beyond the Sea

by Lupine Infernis

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Fancypants, Sex, Profanity, Fleur de Lis, Romance
Length: 15183

On an airship voyage gone wrong, Fancypants discovers the love of his life

The desire to sail was in Fancypants' blood. His father spent more time on the ocean than on land and his best memories as a colt were on his father's yacht. With the recent boom of ships able to sail through the air, Fancypants wasted no time in purchasing two or three and taking them on a trip past Equestria's shores.

During one voyage, severe weather strikes, and Fancypants is thrown overboard in a terrible accident. Expecting to drown in the cold waters, he is saved by a rather exotic creature.

But by gum, she is gorgeous...

Written for Robipony

Published 2019-02-15 04:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-02-15 04:30:01 UTC

Someone is Waiting for Me

“Fancypants, may I just say that you are as brilliant as you are handsome!”

“Well, far be it from me to decline the compliments of a mare as lovely as yourself, though I fear that by the end of the day, my head shall be as full of hot air as the SS. Voyager.”

Stallions and mares alike laughed – politely, of course – at his joke and pressed in tighter, sealing Fancypants within a social cell.

Apologies – ‘social circle,’ not social cell.

Starry eyes gazed at him adoringly, seeking to drink in his presence with fervour, as if proximity would allow whatever virtue they saw in him to seep out for them to absorb into their flesh like wine-filled sponges.

Fancypants, personally, would rather be at the bow of the ship with the wind blowing his mane back than hunkered down starboard with these gibbering sycophants showering him with unnecessary praise.

Apologies – ‘friends,’ not gibbering sycophants.

“It truly is admirable that you played a part in directly building this beautiful girl,” Lord Witherton remarked, tapping his forehoof against the deck. “A stallion who not only funded the first airship construction facility but actually helped design the engine that powers it.”

“Such genius is surely the reason behind your imposing wealth.” Lady Tenure commented with a delicate sip of her wine.

Fancypants almost went ‘mm-hm’ before remembering that could be taken as crass. “Ah, but I’m sure it is just Lady Fortune being generous with my investment decisions.”

“Oh, I had no idea Lady Fortune had a say in your investments.” Lord Witherton pondered.

“What?” Fancypants blinked. “I- Oh! No, no, my dear sir – I didn’t mean Lady Fortune of the Fortune estate, but Lady Fortune of the, ah… metaphorical sense.”

His esteemed guests stared at him; he could hear the gears of ‘literal sense’ grinding against each other in their skulls.

Barely containing a sigh, Fancypants cleared his throat and said, “My, my – isn’t the ocean just gorgeous on portside?”

A chorus of delighted noises followed in the wake of the crowd as they gathered near the safety railing.

On the wrong side.

The sailor in Fancypants threatened to spill out and cuss up a storm at such ignorance, but he cautiously kept it in check and snuck off to the bow. He passed by the crew keeping the vessel in check and returned their cheerful greetings with a smile and a nod – much more relaxed and comfortable than the prim and proper bowing and full-name-addressing he often had to do.

Finally, Fancypants found himself at the tip of the bow and leaned his forehooves against the railing, head tilted and nostrils flaring as he took in fresh air and the salty smell of the sea.

‘Incredible.’

His fortune may have had the unfortunate effect of attracting ponies with less than noble intentions, but he would be a liar if he said that money brought nothing but misery; it was money that allowed him to pursue his hobby of sailing and take it to the next level with airships. He had yet to experience a greater sense of joy than when he first cleared Canterlot’s skyline and saw the horizon stretch out before him, illuminated by Celestia’s magnificent sun.

Still, being rich came with its drawbacks. He couldn’t-

Wait.

Fancypants stopped daydreaming and lit his horn to adjust his monocle. “I say…” He turned and jogged over to a crewmate, voice rising as he clasped his shoulder. “I say, that appears to be something we should be concerned about,
wouldn’t you think?”

The crewmate looked ahead and frowned. “That’s weird. Pegasi said it’d be clear for miles off Equestria’s east coastline.”

“The sea is an untameable mistress, my friend,” Fancypants said, brushing past him and heading to the engine room. “Tell the captain to turn around and head back to mainland. Get the others below deck, too.”

“Yes, sir.”

When he was a colt, Fancypants and his father were caught by a surprise storm while out fishing. His father believed the fish that lived beyond Equestria’s shores were of far greater vitality and taste, so Fancypants’ earliest memories of the sea were of turbulent waves and bullying winds; he saw the fury of Mother Nature when there were no pegasi to tame her and learned to respect her.

“Have at you, miserable crone!” Fancypants wrestled with the airship’s wheel as the vessel swayed and rocked beneath his hooves. His hair was plastered to his forehead from rain and his clothing was torn beyond repair. “Come at me with everything you’ve got – I’m getting bored!”

His father lived far past the life expectancy for a unicorn and didn’t so much as slip when he was on a boat, so he must have been doing something right with all the insults he had tossed to the winds.

He heard a shout and reflexively ducked as a stallion flew by and slammed into the mast. His wings curled up against his body so they wouldn’t drag him off the ship.

“How goes it, Echo Drop?!” Fancypants cried, barely able to see past the black clouds that had swallowed them like a great whale’s maw. “Can you do anything about the storm?”

“Storm’s thicker than the arse of a noblemare, sir!” Echo Drop peeled himself off the mast and tightened some rope that was keeping the sail in place. “We’d need the Wonderbolts just to make a dent but I’m the only flyer here!”

“That’s not good news, my good lad! Canterlot has some dapper derrieres!” Fancypants flinched as a flash of lightning lit up the dense clouds before the bow, as big and intimidating as a mountain range. “Remember to use the Manticore’s Paw to tie that down, not the Hydra’s Coil!”

“Got it, sir!”

“And where is Juniper?!” He felt the ship try to turn port and spun the wheel in the opposite direction. The ship moaned in exertion and trembled, knocking down a unicorn that ran into Fancypants’ field of vision. “First Mate Juniper – did you find the captain?!”

Juniper grabbed onto the railing and pulled herself up, lavender mane completely drenched. “Captain’s still cryin’ with th’ passengers! Keeps moanin’ about his belly!”

“If my father were here, that stallion would be keelhauled!”

“There ain’t any barnacles on the ship’s hull! And it’s smooth as a maiden’s arse to boot!”

“It’s the intent that matters, my dear!” A strong gust almost knocked Fancypants on his rump. Juniper yelped and grabbed onto the railing. “We’re blind here, but I’ll bet my fortune that Equestria’s coast is straight ahead! Get down to the engine room and tell them ‘full steam ahead!’ We’ll bust through this beastly squall yet!”

“Aye, aye, sir!” Juniper planted her hooves firmly on the deck and stomped her way into the lower levels of the ship.
Fancypants grunted as the wheel tried to toss him off and spin out of control. “What strength! However, you shan’t best me just yet! I have plenty more gusto to give!”

A powerful draft slammed into the ship on the port and Fancypants heard a scream.

Turning, he watched in horror as Echo Drop slumped against one of the winches holding the mast’s ropes in place, his wings bent with several red feathers stuck in the winches’ gaps. Fancypants called out to him, but Echo Drop tumbled and rolled against the deck until he slammed into the railing with another pained cry.

Fancypants lit his horn and tried to grab him, but the storm was too strong and lately his telekinesis had been restricted to holding glasses of wine and champagne.

‘No other choice.’

Using his teeth, Fancypants ripped his tuxedo apart and used his magic to tie the strips between the wheel and the railing, locking it in place. Then, he dove for Echo Drop just as the dazed pegasus slipped over the railing.
He barely caught him by the foreleg.

Darkness loomed below the airship like a hungry abyss. Fancypants squinted as rain fell into his eyes and made it increasingly difficult to keep his grip.

“Echo Drop, lad!”

A weak murmur, barely audibly over the storm, replied, “S-sir?”

“Give me your other hoof!”

Fancypants offered his other hoof, the railing pressing into his gut as Echo Drop’s weight threatened to send them both over. Fortunately, Echo Drop still had enough sense to heed instructions and managed to reach up and grab onto one of the railing’s vertical rungs and-

-yet another gust slammed into the ship.

Fancypants was sent over the railing. His stomach dropped as he went head over heels and found himself staring up at the sky until-

-Echo Drop’s grip tightened, and Fancypants jerked in mid-air, his back slamming against the ship’s hull.

‘Thank Celestia for this maiden-arse smoothness.’

But gravity, harsh mistress she was, hooked her claws into Fancypants and tried to pull down into the abyss. All that kept him from falling was the strength of a pegasus with sprained – possibly broken – wings.

Fancypants could hear shouting from the deck as he looked up into Echo Drop’s tormented face. The foreleg he was using to hold onto the railing was shaking violently. “A rather fine predicament we’re in.”

Echo Drop nodded once, slowly, teeth bared and veins popping on his neck in exertion. “Y-yeah, no, th-this… this sucks.”

Fancypants could see concerned faces peering over the railing, several hooves grabbing at Echo Drop’s hoof but the ship was rocking so much that it was hard to get a grip. A few horns lit up like fireflies and enshrouded the pegasus in multiple hues but Fancypants knew from experience how hard it was to concentrate in the middle of a storm with thunder shaking one’s eardrums.

Fancypants inhaled and let a wave of calm wash over him. “My good lad… let go.”

Echo Drop’s eyes widened. He shook his head.

“Your wings are injured; you can’t fly, and you couldn’t swim in such a state.”

“S-s-sir-”

“Don’t let my sideburns and weekends playing croquet fool you. I’ll have you know that I’m a very good swimmer.”

“Sir, no!”

Fancypants smiled. “Tally-ho!”

He released his grip and fell into the darkness.

Falling to one’s death was such a unique and rare occasion that Fancypants would be remiss if he didn’t devote a part of his mind to memorizing the thoughts that went through his head as the roaring wind drowned out everything from his heartbeat to the thunder.

Sadly, no epiphanies were had. The closest thing to an articulate thought was a long string of sailor cursing directed at Mother Nature.

He was scared, naturally, but the main cause of his concern was if they managed to get the ship’s helm under control. It would have been a crying shame if he had gone through all of this just to see the airship crash down anyway. If the water didn’t kill him, then the irony surely would have.

Speaking of water, a fall from such a height drastically reduced the difference in toughness between water and concrete – he was just as liable to get a concussion here as he was jumping off the highest spire of Canterlot Castle.

‘Bollocks.’

Twisting his body into the safest ‘water-entry’ position there was, Fancypants closed his eyes, covered his muzzle, and awaited the sea’s cold embrace.

Which…

Was…

Right…

About…

SPLASH

Holy smokes, that was cold!!

Ignoring the basic instinct to breathe in, Fancypants swam straight up and didn’t stop until his head broke the surface.

“Huagh!”

Immediately, a wave slapped him in the face with the force of a bulldozer. Submerged, up became down and left became right; he had very little way of determining which way was the surface, but he tried his best to remember his father’s lessons for surviving in such terrible conditions.

There was little to no chance Fancypants would survive in these waters, but blast it, he had to try.

For what felt like an eternity, he struggled to keep his head above the water, nothing but the furious crashing of waves and the odd rolling thunderclap to keep his splashing company. Periodically, a flash of lightning lit his surroundings, but it was little comfort, especially when it just highlighted which wave was going to pound him beneath the surface next.

He couldn’t imagine what manner of marine life could have been lurking beneath his hooves; he’d probably lose it there and then.

“G-give a chap a break, hm?” Fancypants murmured, cold and fatigue settling into his bones. Still, he kept his lips in an amicable smile. “Surely… surely you’ve had your fill tormenting me?”

Another flash of lightning.

Fancypants blinked dumbly and went still as a wall of darkness rose in front of him – twenty, no thirty meters in height.

“I guess not.”

He dove under it, tried to. His world became topsy-turvy as the wave crashed down. Whoever said water wasn’t heavy was a regrettably misinformed individual because Fancypants felt like some brawny fellow knocked him upside the head.
He managed to breach again, but his movements were slowing down; the wave knocked him silly and now he was going to lose consciousness. Probably soon, too.

Fancypants groaned and shook his head…

… and saw a light.

It was small, maybe a hundred or so metres away, but it was a chance! A small boat, perhaps!

Yelling would only take up energy he didn’t have, so Fancypants grit his teeth, focused his gaze and started to swim.

‘Keep at it, old chap! Focus on one thing and one thing only: survival.’

The waves tossed him to and fro, but Fancypants refused to give in. He kept swimming, even when his limbs felt like lead and he regurgitated thrice on the way, almost choked on it.

How unsightly.

The light gradually came closer and closer, brighter and brighter. It was strange; it almost looked as if it was coming from underwater, but Fancypants was certain there were no seafaring vessels that could go underwater. Why, he’d be all over that like hair on a yak.

Suddenly, Fancypants’ legs refused to respond and he sank beneath the waves. He opened his mouth in surprise – amateur mistake – and flooded his nasal passages and throat. Instinct drove him to try and struggle, but the adrenaline had long been spent.

‘Ah, well isn’t that unfortunate. And I almost believed for a moment that I could have gotten out of this.’

Fancypants had several regrets, though what good would it do to focus on the negative? Instead, he chose to remember that he had willingly thrown himself to the sea with the intent of saving another’s life.

That was a good thought to die on. His father would surely be pleased.

… Hang on.

The light was still growing larger, yet he was sure he wasn’t moving anywhere except down. Odd. Perhaps he was just experiencing a visual hallucination.

… Okay.

Now, he was certain he was hallucinating because there appeared to be the silhouette of a pony behind the light. A pony with… with…

Darkness.

Fancypants could hear seagulls.

Fancypants could smell saltwater.

Fancypants was… alive?

He opened his eyes, as crusted with salt as they were, and found himself staring up at a stone ceiling that was rendered smooth as glass from constant weathering. His hooves twitched and found the ground, also stone, a little slimy and covered in bits of seaweed.

‘A cove?’ He rolled onto his belly, spat up some water, and groggily looked up to see sunshine past the cove’s entrance. ‘I… I must have been closer to shore than I thought. Waves must have tossed me up here.’

Not even Fancypants’ vast fortune could buy this kind of luck. He made a note to attend the nearest church back in Canterlot and appeal – for a gentlestallion doesn’t beg – for forgiveness for being so impious for the past seventeen years.
Oh, but he was simply over the moon to be alive! Life was glorious! Life was-

He puked up saltwater.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t have the strength to get you to cough it all up.”

Fancypants blinked and turned his head. “P-pardon?”

In a small pool that led out to the ocean, a female unicorn was poking her head out of the water and staring at him with excitement. She was… well, Fancypants knew beauty when he saw it and this mare had bundles of it. Her pale mane hung limply around her graceful features – sharp and regal, radiating the same majesty and poise that he often saw around Celestia.

Good gracious, those sensual eyes~

Remembering that he was currently in the presence of a lady, Fancypants quickly tried to save what dignity he still had by cleaning up his haggard appearance. “Ah, h-hello there, my dear. I apologize for my state, but I’ve been through-” His cheeks puffed out and he added to the miserable puddle of sick. “I’ve been through quite an ordeal.”

The beautiful mare watched as a tiny crab emerged from the sick and scuttled off. “A pony with expensive tastes, I see.”

“Ah hah hah… Well, I do eat caviar.”

“But in all seriousness, I am relieved that you are alive. You weren’t breathing when I found you and it took me some effort to get you breathing.”

“Alarming, but that’s behind us now. Am I correct to say that you were the one that rescued me?” A nod. “In which case, I would to express my immeasurable gratitude to you, my dear. If not for your selfless efforts, I would be a goner.”

“That’s true,” The mare grinned cheekily. “But seeing you alive is a good enough reward for me.”

“As kind-hearted as you are gorgeous.”

She tittered with a blush. “The salt has done little to rust that silver tongue.”

Waking up to a verbal spar with such a lovely mare? Fancypants was beginning to suspect that he had died. “Tell me – what is the name of my saviour?”

“Fleur. Fleur de Lis.”

“How avant-garde. My name is Fancypants – hardly as pleasing to the ears as your name but it is a name I bear with great pride nonetheless.”

Fleur’s eyes twinkled as she swayed back and forth in the water. Incredible – she was barely moving her body; must have had powerful legs. “Well, my proud Fancypants, tell me – what was a stallion doing in the middle of such a temperamental storm?”

“A fantastic story, I assure you…”

Even though his fur felt grimy from salt and his mouth was parched, Fancypants hid his discomfort and told Fleur everything, all the while marvelling at her beauty. He found it a little strange that she was choosing to remain in the water instead of getting out and even stranger that a single mare could carry his sturdy frame to safety in such deplorable weather, but he decided to hold off on his questions for now.

Fleur was utterly captivated by his words; she interjected often, asking him to describe the airship he rode on, or to repeat a part she found particular delight in hearing; it filled him with no small amount of pride when her eyes lit up as he told her how he let himself fall to save Echo Drop.

“You’re a hero.”

Fancypants faltered. “Oh no, I’m nothing like that. I concluded that I would have a better chance of surviving the waters than him and took the logical choice. If we both fell, then it would difficult for me to swim and try to keep him from drowning.”

Fleur just smirked like she knew something he didn’t. “Mm-hm~”

Fancypants gestured to her. “If anypony deserves to be called a hero, then it’s you. But I must ask what were you doing out there in the first place? I recall seeing a light before passing out, but… that would mean you were just out there swimming by yourself,” Fleur’s smile waned and she looked down. “Oh, oh dear! I meant no offense. I didn’t mean to question your capability, or-”

“No, no, you’re right to be curious,” Fleur looked back up, a touch of anxiety in her eyes. “Listen – you have to promise me something.”

“If it’s within my power, then of course I will.”

“Promise that you won’t scream and run out of here.”

Fancypants frowned. “An odd request. It’d have to be something beyond equine imagination to make me want to leave your company.”

Fleur blushed again. “Promise me that, and you’ll know exactly how I was able to rescue you and why I was out there in the first place.”

“Very well. I swear on my honour that I shall not scream and run away,” Fancypants placed his hoof over his breast and supressed a wince. “Truthfully, I’m not sure if I can even manage the strength for that.”

“Okay,” Fleur nodded, satisfied. “Here I go.”

Fancypants watched, curious as to what would make Fleur believe he would run out of the cove. He wasn’t a stallion that frightened easily; even his worst fear – needles – could only induce a cold sweat and a sense of nausea.

Fancypants was proud to be known as one of few Canterlotians that didn’t cry getting a shot.

Nevertheless, he steeled himself and waited for whatever Fleur had planned.

What she had planned was to slowly rise, as if she was climbing on some steps beneath the water. Goodness, he was about to see this beautiful mare dripping wet and unclothed! He was ashamed at the rapid descent his thoughts were taking… but he still anticipated the sight with great enthusiasm.

Fleur’s body rose out of the water…

… and a tentacle slapped against the floor.

Fancypants blinked and stared, motionless, as Fleur pulled herself onto land with eight wriggling tentacles as pure and white as her coat; there was a pair sprouting from where each leg should have been.

Fleur’s body language became meek and subdued, her smile turning shy and uncertain. Her tentacles coiled up. “I realize that this is quite a massive shock for you, but I would like to say that I’m happy you kept your promise.”

Fancypants nodded. “Of course,” A pause. “My dear, normally I abhor attempting to find loopholes in an arrangement by two parties, but if you would allow me this slight…?”

“Okay.”

“Would you count losing consciousness to fall in the realms of ‘deserting?’”

“No.”

“Then may I?”

“Go ahead.”

Fancypants fainted.

When he woke, Fleur was curled up in the same spot. She was lying down like a pony, but her tentacles were curled around her like a cat’s tail.

“Sorry about that.”

“I understand.”

Fancypants sat up and stared up at the ceiling. “… My father told me he had seen a pony like you once. I only half-believed it; a feeling akin to something like, ‘this doesn’t exist but if it did…’”

“I don’t think it was me unless it happened to your father recently.”

“Fifteen years ago, I believe. In these very waters.”

“I was farther west during that time, so I guess it wasn’t.”

“Huh. How old are you?”

Fleur frowned. “It’s rude to ask a lady her age, you know.”

“Ah, yes. Forgive me,” Fancypants paused. “I…”

“Yes?”

“I… I’m…”

He didn’t mean to start randomly laughing right in her face, but the situation was just so absurd that something inside him was tickled pink. Or, perhaps that was just the saltwater taking its toll on his brain.

Fleur grimaced and looked back to the water. “Maybe I should… go.”

“No, please stay,” Fancypants almost bit his tongue reigning in the spasms of his diaphragm. “I-I apologize for my uncouth behaviour. There’s just quite a lot to take in.”

Fleur nodded. “Yes, that’s fair. At any rate, I can’t very well just leave you until I know you have some way to get back home safe and sound; I’d be up every night stewing in guilt.”

“Thank you.”

Silence stretched between them as Fancypants stared at the twitching appendages that substituted for legs on Fleur’s body. He knew it was rude to stare, even ruder to feel nausea at the sight of them, but his curiosity and awe was insatiable.

“You’re an octopony.” He finally murmured.

Fleur nodded. “I am.”

“Is it okay for you to be out of the water?”

“For a few hours, yes.”

“Would you prefer to be in the water regardless?”

Fleur shrugged. “It feels good to get out every now and then. I do have lungs after all.”

“Ah, so you’re primarily mammalian?”

“Yes.”

“Like dolphins?”

“Ugh, narcissistic show-offs, those creatures… But yes.”

“Incredible. Simply incredible,” Fancypants shook his head, still unable to believe what was happening. “I would have been lucky just to have survived last night’s storm but to have my saviour be-” Suddenly, Fancypants realized just how careless he was being. “Mother Faust! The airship! I have to see if everypony else made it!”

“The coast is just a stone’s throw from this cove,” Fleur gestured to the entrance with a nod of her head. “I saw a bunch of ponies milling about. It looks like they’re searching.”

Fancypants hoped that it was just him they were searching for. “I see,” With considerable effort, Fancypants got to his feet, cheeks puffing out as his stomach made its displeasure known. “Oh, blast.”

“I’ll help you swim to a part of the beach that doesn’t see much activity,” Fleur ‘stood’ by way of using one tentacle of each pair to stiffen and push her body up while the other pulled her along. “I hope you understand that I don’t really want to be seen.”

Fancypants tried to ignore the wet suction noises coming from the mare. “No, no, I understand completely. Why, there are ponies back in my home – paparazzi, we call them – who are relentless with normal folk, so I don’t even want to imagine the attention this place will get if one catches sight of you. Incidentally, you also need not fear me telling about you.”

Fleur’s eyes lit up. “Truly?”

“You have my word. You’ll remain my little secret,” He winked. “My favourite one, to boot.”

Fleur blushed fiercely and she gave a giddy snigger. “Oh, goodness… You’re making it hard to say goodbye, you know.”

“We don’t have to do that,” Fancypants said. “Would it be too much to ask that we meet again? Your company is vastly preferable to any soul I’ve met, and I wish to know more about you.”

Fleur’s eyes widened and she went silent. Fancypants feared he had crossed a line somewhere, but his concerns were laid to rest when she nodded. “Okay. Shall we meet back here in a week’s time? Perhaps at noon?”

“I will count the minutes until then.”

“Charmer. Now, let me just a grip on you, then we can go.”

Fancypants felt dozens of suckers grip onto his torso. “Oh, dear…”

“Hm? Is something wr- oh, you’re puking again. Don’t worry about getting it on me – I help clean barnacles from the bellies of whales with these, so I’m accustomed to- oh, that just made it worse, I see.”

Within two hours, Fancypants was safely transported to a hospital in Canterlot being treated for dehydration, a sprained hindleg, and a cut he received on his side.

Within four hours, Fancypants learned what happened onboard the SS. Voyage after his fall.

The crew managed to get Echo Drop back on board – thank goodness – and the captain’s stomach settled enough for him to get back to controlling the ship. Continuing with Fancypants’ intention to break through the storm, the airship’s crew pulled together and worked until eventually, the ship’s bow pierced through the thick clouds and sailed inland. Docking back in Canterlot, they wasted no time in alerting the authorities and organizing a search and rescue.

He had been missing for fifteen hours.

Since his return, he had received many visitors inquiring about his wellbeing, or intending to express their admiration and awe for his quick thinking, tremendous bravery, and incredible luck. There was no false flattery or veiled intentions with these visits – as was the case with most of his social interactions – everypony came by just to see ‘Fancypants.’

Echo Drop came by with his wings in a cast, a young and beautiful mare at his side who turned out to be Echo Drop’s fiancé. Both expressed their undying gratitude to Fancypants, who could only bashfully clear his throat and squirm under the attention; there were certain varieties of attention he was used to, and this was not one of them.

It was only more mortifying when none other than Princess Celestia herself dropped by. Fancypants was certain he’d have a heart attack when she congratulated him and promised to present a medal once he got better.

Still, even with all the praise and kind words he was getting, Fancypants could only think of Fleur and the date when they would see each other once again…

The days flew by until it was time to return to the cove. Taking one of his private yachts and informing his associates he’d be going for an outing, Fancypants returned to Citrus Cliff Beach – named due to the colour of the nearby cliffs’ faces – and sailed back to the cove. Fortunately, there were very few boats around and none were near the cove. Even if they ventured close, all they’d see was Fancypants’ yacht moored near the entrance and assume he was just another fisherman or sightseer.

If only they knew…

Adjusting his captain’s cap and hoisting a picnic basket with telekinesis, Fancypants stepped onto the cove’s stone walkway and excitedly looked around the spot where he first met Fleur.

Nothing, but he wasn’t discouraged.

“My dear?” He called, gently laying the basket down and taking out a towel from within. “Are you here?”

For a few seconds, there was just the sounds of the ocean, but Fancypants’ ears pricked as he heard a squishy splat, like someone was hoofing through a basin of crushed fruit.

There, near the cove’s back wall, what he thought to be a pile of rocks moved and changed from grey to white and pink.

“I am.”

Fancypants made his awe known with a throaty grunt. “I have heard of octopi using camouflage, but that was truly impressive.”

Fleur tittered and moved her head to flip her mane out of her eyes. She had somehow become even more beautiful since he last saw her. “Oh, stop – it was nothing, really.”

“I see,” Fancypants grinned cheekily. “So, you just wanted to impress me just because?”

Fleur laughed again and slithered over. “Yes – ‘just because’ I find you that special. Consider yourself lucky.”

“Oh, I do, my dear.”

“Now, merriment aside, I’m pleased to see you again and in considerably better condition. Any aches that may be lingering?”

Fancypants rolled his right shoulder. “A bit of stiffness; nothing worth fretting over. Why, I believe that the thought of seeing you again may have accelerated my recovery.”

Fleur rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Fancypants, are you even able to switch off the charm? You must have a great deal of suitors.”

Fancypants paused. “Ah, well, no.”

“No?”

“Well, no, that’s not entirely correct,” Fancypants busied himself by laying out everything in the basket on the towel. “I have a number of mares, lovely mares, seeking my attention. I’ve even been on quite a few dates. However, I find myself rebuking their intentions for a deeper relationship.”

Fleur blinked. “Is there a reason for that?”

“Less a reason and more a feeling. I simply don’t experience the same spark that I’ve heard many others talk about when they are with the one they love. Call me old-fashioned, but I believe you should commit yourself only once you feel that spark.”

Fleur hummed, her gaze flicking back and forth between Fancypants and the food being laid out – clearly strange to her eyes. “I see.”

A silence stretched between them, one that Fancypants broke with a forced cough. “Ah, but I talked enough about myself in our last encounter – let’s talk about you.”

“One of my favourite subjects,” Fleur chuckled, settling down near the edge of the towel. “Tell me – what would you like to know about me?”

Fancypants was unable to stop a childlike grin from spreading across his face. “Everything, my dear.”

‘Everything’ was reaching a little too far for Fleur’s tastes; she couldn’t and wouldn’t recall every second of her life, especially not the embarrassing moments – even though Fancypants offered to share his incident with a nefarious jockstrap brought to life by an errant magic spell to make her feel better.

However, she did tell him about her kind.

Octoponies were distant cousins of normal ponies in the same way that drakes were distant cousins of dragons; same class but ultimately different species. Preferring colder climates, octoponies migrated to the north very early in history, so early that over time they were forgotten and existed only in the oldest texts that were dismissed as legends and relicts. It didn’t help matters that octoponies were seclusive by nature and adept hiders. Eventually, some octoponies were born preferring warmer waters – Fleur was one of them – and migrated closer to Equestria, living near the east and west coasts but still maintaining their privacy and ambiguous existence.

Fleur was born into a tight-knit group of octoponies consisting of several females and one male. She was raised and educated within that group for six months before she was overcome with the strong urge to find her own herd and promptly left without a word. Fleur assured Fancypants that six months was normal for their kind; they aged faster as children, then slowed down once they hit puberty.

Fancypants thought about asking for her age again and wisely kept his mouth shut.

But finding a herd did not come easily to Fleur once she was on her own and had time to think. More than anything else, she wanted to explore, so she gathered her courage and swam across the oceans, encountering many wonderful sights and creatures. She came close to dying more than once and proudly recounted the time she had bested an aggressive orca, going so far as to show off the five tentacles that had been bitten off and grown back.

Fancypants smiled weakly at that.

During her travels, Fleur stumbled across a shipwreck and, when asked for details, Fancypants identified it as the Gigantic, a cruise ship that tragically sunk five years ago after an encounter with a great sea serpent. Within the remains, Fleur found a radio that had been enchanted to be waterproof and run on solar power. Fleur was able to pick up on Canterlot’s radio station when she was close enough to the mainland, which was where she learned how to speak in a refined manner and practise proper etiquette. She was ecstatic to be able to put what she learned to good use with somepony that could appreciate it.

Fancypants asked about the radio and Fleur sighed sadly before revealing a shark ate it several months ago. Somewhere out there, a shark was entertaining its prey with showtunes and the energetic ramblings of desk jockies.

With the sun beginning to set and Fleur running low on steam, they concluded the picnic. Fancypants enjoyed himself immensely and he was confident that Fleur had just as much fun; she was a very expressive mare in her face and body language – yes, he was beginning to interpret the movements of her tentacles with her mood.

As they said their farewells, with Fancypants on his yacht and Fleur dipping beneath the waves, all he could think about was how much he was already anticipating their next outing.

He knew just what to bring, too.

“Ooh! This one looks like she’s wearing a bunch of jellyfish. How extraordinary.”

Fancypants smirked behind his half-eaten muffin as Fleur pored over the magazines he brought, her eyes glimmering with fascination and awe. In his opinion, it only served to highlight her beauty. “Photo Finish’s eccentricity is second only to her knowledge of the field of fashion.”

“So, this is what they call a ‘catwalk,’” Fleur turned to a two-pager of three mares going down a runway, flaunting to show off their clothing. “The lights and the colours – so pretty!”

“You enjoy fashion, my dear?”

“It must be strange, no? My kind don’t really have need for clothing.”

“Neither do ponies,” Fancypants shrugged. “Yet here I am in one of my best dress-shirts, a bow, and a dapper cap, if I do say so myself.”

“True, true,” Fleur nodded, turned to him with a dazzling smile. “So, why do your kind dress up?”

“Aesthetic purposes, purely,” Fancypants answered without hesitation. “We ponies are vain creatures and like to appear as dazzling and bright as the gems we mine. I’m no exception, either; I like to dress smartly whether I’m at home, on an outing with friends, or to impress the mare I’m on a date with.”

Fleur smiled slyly. “Wouldn’t this count as a date? Are you attempting to impress me?”

There were very few things that could make Fancypants feel hot under the collar: that query and the look Fleur gave him was one of them. For once, his wit failed him, leaving him bright-faced and sputtering for a response.

Fleur just laughed kindly and waved a tentacle dismissively. “Oh, my. I shall mark this day down as the day I made you the blush-ee instead of the blush-er.” She returned to looking through the magazines, her suckers popping as she turned pages.

Fancypants drank some tea from a flash to recover some of his pride, and then a thought suddenly came to him. “What about you, my dear?” Fleur looked back over, one eyebrow lifting. “Why are you so interested in fashion?”

Fleur paused, her face going through several emotions as she seemingly tried to articulate her thoughts. It was almost two minutes before she answered.

“When I heard fashion shows being described on the radio, the announcers kept mentioning how so-and-so looked like a completely different pony when they came out wearing a different outfit. They gave such detailed descriptions that I could imagine it, vividly, as if I was there. It occurred to me that I’d never thought of myself as being something or someone other than myself. Does that make sense?”

Fancypants thought about it, then nodded. “I believe I understand, yes.”

Fleur sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps I just selfishly wanted to be centre of attention, to be fawned over the way they all fawn over these models. I’ve been alone for so long that perhaps…” She trailed off.

A steely resolve entered Fancypants’ eyes. “Hold for just a moment, my dear. I’ll be right back.”

Wasting no time, Fancypants returned to his boat and came back carrying a camera. Fleur cocked her head curiously as he set the device up near their picnic.

“Is that…?”

“I don’t carry spare clothes in my yacht, but what the model is wearing is only half of what makes them so glamorous,” With a confident smirk, Fancypants lit his horn and held up one of the magazines – the one with a mare in a red dress staring sultrily into the reader’s eyes. “The other half is how they present themselves.”

Understanding filled Fleur’s eyes. “Eh? W-wait a second now…” Laughing nervously, she flailed half of her tentacles while the others stretched towards the water. “I couldn’t possibly pose like how they do in these magazines.”

“Then pose in your own way,” Fancypants replied simply. “The best models are those that not only convey beauty and grace but character. Even if you are an amateur, you can still display that much if you try.”

Fleur groaned and hid her face in a spaghetti mess of tangled limbs. “No, I… Those mares are so beautiful, and I couldn’t possibly match something like that.”

“My dear, you are the most gorgeous creature I have ever had the fortune of meeting.” Fancypants was nothing but sincere, but even he was quite taken back by the passion in his tone. When was the last time he ever spoke so…?

Fleur peered up at him, too astonished to be embarrassed. “You truly think so?” At his nod, her demeanour shifted; she smiled, shyly, and slithered her way in front of the camera. “Shall I just…?”

Fancypants waved her on and prepped for the shooting. “Do whatever feels natural.”

Fleur nodded and took a deep breath. “Very well. Here I go…”

As expected, Fleur’s attempts at modelling were amateurish at best. Her tentacles made it difficult to copy some of more well-known poses amidst the fashion industry and her behaviour made it obvious she felt vulnerable and unsure of herself. It was only further on and with Fancypants’ encouragement did she gain more confidence.

But… even so…

Fancypants had never seen such captivating beauty in his life. Every time Fleur looked at the camera, his heart skipped a beat. Every time she struck a pose that was just so her, chills went down his spine. And near the end, when she was getting into it and tossed her mane with the sun at her back, he took a snapshot halfway through it and it was just... perfect.

By the end, Fancypants had taken more than thirty pictures, and he was sweating up a storm. He hadn’t felt such awe since his first trip on an airship.

And when Fleur looked over, flushed from excitement and the exertion of her poses, and beamed magnificently, he felt it.

Sparks.

“Oh dear, oh dear, old boy – what have you gotten yourself into?!”

He paced the length of his bedroom, mane in a disastrous state of dishevelment as he worked himself up. The pictures of Fleur were scattered across his dresser; he couldn’t bear to look at them right now.

Probably in another few minutes.

“The sparks, old boy – the sparks!” He groaned in dismay. “Why did you have to get the sparks with her of all ponies? Two ponies from different worlds. How many times have you seen this in those fables?”

He passed by his dresser, stopped, and pointed accusingly at his reflection.

“How many times, hm? They rarely have a happy ending. Why, most of the time it ends in a tragic orgy of violence and misunderstandings! This is just a Roameo and Hayliet waiting to happen.”

He paused.

“Though at least my Hayliet isn’t fourteen years old.”

Fancypants looked down at the photos and sighed as his insides turned to mush. The smart thing to do would be to burn these photos, but… how could he deface such exquisiteness? He’d rather shear his fur off than toss even one of these into the fireplace.

… Fleur really was a beautiful creature; he had no idea how she managed to get such a lustrous shine to her mane or get her coat so smooth and soft considering she spent her entire life in the ocean – it was just one of those mysteries about her that he was so eager to know.

“I would… like to be more to her than a friend,” He murmured, shifting through the pics to find one of Fleur with her head raised and the sun beaming behind her. “But it just doesn’t seem possible. She can’t spend more than a few hours out of the water. I can’t go back and forth between here and the coast at my leisure, especially not with those presentations coming up next month. Long-distance relationships can be difficult – I saw that with mother and father. Besides, what sort of life would she have if she were to move here? Only being able to see the city from a wooden barrel being carted around, having every pony gawking at her and asking questions… No, better she remain in the ocean in obscurity.”

He could always just ignore his feelings and continue to be a friend. It didn’t sit right with him, but he didn’t want Fleur to go through a relationship that would put strain on her. Heck, she might not even want a relationship.

Although… she gave him a lot of half-lidded looks and playful flirts…

No, no – shouldn’t make assumptions, best to ask directly. At some point.

Fancypants looked at himself in the mirror again. He looked at his horn, his legs, his…

His horn.

His legs.

Fancypants blinked. “Perhaps there is a way.”

A few days later, Fancypants jostled another stallion on his way home. In his defence, he was quite tired and not really looking where he was going. The items he carried in his saddlebags spilled onto the cobblestone as he fell onto his rump with an ‘oof.’

“So sorry, old chap,” Fancypants levitated his monocle back into place and grabbed one of the scattered tomes. He didn’t really look at the other stallion, too concerned with his books. “Er, I hope you aren’t hurt?”

“Ah, Fancypants, what an unusual sight,” The stallion, voice all prim and conceited, brushed himself off. “We haven’t seen you much as of late.”

Fancypants stalled and narrowed his eyes. It was unusually dark for just being dusk and he was tired, so it wasn’t until the stallion lit his horn to pick up a book did Fancypants have enough light to see. Immediately, his blood went cold.

“Blueblood.”

Prince Blueblood – a minor nuisance that he dealt with from time to time; he didn’t warrant any form of fear or worry on a normal occasion, but considering what Fancypants had in his saddlebags…

He swallowed and kept his emotions concealed behind a cheerful mask. “An unusual sight, you say? Funny – I could say the same of you; you hardly ever leave your station.”

“Hmph. Princess Celestia said that it was good to change things up every so often. She said she’d finish the documents on my desk and suggested I take a stroll,” Blueblood passed him the book without looking at the cover. “Personally, I don’t see what the hoo-rah is about all this walking.”

Fancypants smiled falsely and tried to stuff everything back into his bags as fast as he could. “Ah, it’ll grow on you in time, my friend. This brisk chill does wonders for the body – it’s why I’m out in the first place. For a stroll! Nothing else.”

Blueblood grunted, not really paying attention, and picked up the last book. “Well, I should be thankful to Celestia for being so generous as to take on my workload. There’s a store around here that sells pastries, so I-”

Blueblood glanced at the book’s cover and did a double-take. Fancypants grimaced.

“‘Inner Machinations of Morphing Spells’ by Camo Index,” Blueblood looked at him suspiciously. “Transformation magic? Isn’t this an advanced field of the Alteration school?”

“Ah, is that so? Well, I just wanted an opportunity to exercise the mind,” Fancypants chuckled, snatching the book and stowing it. “Well, it was fun catching up, but I better be on my way.”

“I say, hold on a second,” Blueblood stepped in his path. He wasn’t particularly fit, but he was wide enough that Fancypants couldn’t just nudge past without a considerable – not to mention uncharacteristic – amount of effort. “Why on earth would you need a book like that?”

“Engineering airships.” Fancypants said quickly.

Blueblood frowned. “I may not know much about airships, but isn’t Alteration magic ill-suited for mechanical engineering?”

“Well-”

“You mentioned at a soiree once that metal is a poor conductor for magic.”

“Ah, did I? It depends on the type, you see. We’re looking into manufacturing metal that’s more… agreeable to magic to expediate the assembly,” He could see the gears turning in Blueblood’s head and used the opportunity to slip by. “I suggest something with raspberry for whatever pastry you were going to buy. Celestia loves raspberry. Cheerio!”

Fancypants swallowed, feeling Blueblood’s gaze settle on his shoulders with remarkable intensity.

“Fancypants, are you okay? You seem fatigued.”

“Why, what makes you say that, my dear?”

Fleur frowned. “You have bags beneath your eyes. I assume that means the same as it does for my kind.”

Fancypants grimaced. They were watching the sunset from the cove and how its orange light painted the ocean’s calm waters. They had good food and drinks. The sky was without a cloud. It should have been perfect.

Instead, Fancypants found himself nodding off, Fleur’s voice drifting in and out much like his consciousness. It was beyond rude, especially since he was withholding the reason for his fatigue, but it was a necessary sacrifice for what he had planned. He wanted it to be a surprise.

So, he slapped on a smile and replied, “Oh, it’s just a spot of bother I’m having with the airships back in the facilities. Blasted engines burn up so much fuel and I’m pulling all-nighters trying to think up a more efficient mix.”

Fleur quietly exclaimed in understanding, believing him utterly; it made him feel like garbage. “I’m certain it’ll come to you in time. You’ve such a brilliant mind, Fancypants.”

“Oh, I’m nothing special. You, though…”

“Oh no, you’re not smooth-talking your way out of this,” Fleur booped him on the snout with a tentacle. He flinched and wrinkled his nose at the smell of seawater. “I am going to pay you a compliment and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Oh, horrors!”

“You are smart,” Boop. “Charming,” Boop. “Funny.”

Boop. “Increasingly smelling of seawater?”

Boop. “And witty.”

On the final boop, they shared a laugh. Fancypants took the opportunity to wipe his face with a napkin. “I suppose it wasn’t so bad to be complimented.”

“I’d think you’d be used to compliments given how popular you are. And don’t try to deny it because I’ve read the articles about you in the magazines you gave me.”

“Ah… yes,” Fancypants felt some of his fatigue come back. “Fleur, may I confide in you?” Fleur nodded. “The truth is that my popularity attracts many ponies that are only interested in me because of my wealth and reputation. To put it simply, they’re only interested in me for what I could for them. I doubt they’re actually interested in the speed of a yacht or the number of atmospheres an airship’s hull can withstand.”

“How many is that?”

“One.”

“Huh. Well, that sounds sad,” Fleur looked genuinely annoyed on Fancypants’ behalf. “Back in my cloister, ponies like that would be tied with seaweed and thrown into whale territory.”

Fancypants blinked at her.

“That was a joke.”

“Ah.”

“Seriously, though, why would you keep ponies like that around?”

“It’s simply how it’s always been when one mingles in high society,” Fancypants shrugged. “As the ‘elite’ of Canterlot, we must strive for the image of the well-mannered and sophisticated; naturally, this means putting on cheerful airs around those you might dislike simply because it would be rude to disregard their flattery and camaraderie. Even if that flattery and camaraderie is nothing but a farce to veil their true intentions.”

“It sounds suffocating. You must be miserable.”

“Hmm… not really,” He shook his head. “I shan’t bemoan my wealth and status. Besides, it’s not as if everypony is like that. I have a few friends who I can call genuine. My life is rich and exciting – I want for nothing…” He paused. “Well, almost nothing.”

Fleur studied him long enough for him to feel a sweat building, then smiled and looked back at the sunset. “You are a wonderful stallion, Fancypants. When you find your love, she’ll be very thankful to have met you.”

It was such a sincere and lovely compliment, but Fancypants felt like a vice was gripping his ribs. ‘When you find your love,’ she said. Did that mean she expected him to be with somepony else? Somepony that wasn’t her?

Fancypants grinned despite his feelings. “Thank you for saying that, my dear.”

Fleur nodded. “Hm.”

Did she have nothing more to say? Perhaps he truly had been misreading those looks she gave him; they were nothing more than him projecting what he wanted to see.

It hurt.

But… still… he wanted to continue with his surprise. She might still appreciate what he had planned.

Holding on that thought for comfort, Fancypants silently watched the sun’s reddish glow alongside Fleur.

Fancypants snorted and lifted his head, wincing as the knocking at his front door persisted. Goodness gracious, who could be knocking at the early time of…

He turned his head and squinted at the grandfather clock by his dresser.

… 1:10?

He looked out the window.

In the afternoon.

Fancypants blinked and leaned back in his chair.

Why on earth did he sleep in so much? That wasn’t like him. The only time he could recall sleeping in past noon was when he…

Fancypants blinked and straightened, eyeing a bottle of wine sitting on the table. No glass in sight.

Well, that explained the splitting headache and the horrid taste lingering on his fuzz-covered tongue.

“Drowning your woes…” Fancypants admonished himself with a sigh. “Come now, old boy. You’re hurting, but this is not the way to deal with things.”

The knocking intensified in speed and ferocity.

“Agh!” It felt like tiny gnomes were mining the inside of his skull. Grumbling, Fancypants got out of his chair, paying no heed to the photos scattered across the table top. “Yes, I’ll be there in a moment.”

His body felt ten times heavier than the norm and he had to play a very strange game of limbo where the ‘stick’ was replaced by piercing beams of sunlight that sought to punish him for his night of inebriation. Perhaps it was deserved, but Fancypants was feeling the role of the petulant child.

The unsympathetic party continued beating on the door.

“Yes, yes, I’m here!” Courtesy be damned, Fancypants was going to give this ruffian a few choice words like, ‘nefarious’ and ‘cacophonic individual.’ Reaching out and grabbing the front door’s handle, he pulled it back and gave a bloodshot glare. “What on earth…?!”

Blueblood lowered his hoof and raised an eyebrow as he studied him. “Quite the greeting.”

This was the last thing Fancypants wanted to deal with. “Forgive me, but I’ve not had the most pleasant sleep.”

Blueblood sniffed and wrinkled his nose.

“Yes, it’s shameful to drink so much that it puts one in this sort of state, I know.”

A shrug. “Never known you to drink excessively. Something good or bad must have happened recently.”

“You could say that,” Fancypants grimaced at the pounding behind his eyes. He squinted, then closed them entirely, taking in a deep breath. “I’m afraid I must ask that you allow me some time to recover.”

“Actually, there’s something important that I need to discuss with you. It can’t wait.”

“But-” Fancypants blinked in astonishment as Blueblood trotted straight past him. Holding back a scowl, he murmured while shutting the door, “Make yourself at home, then.”

Blueblood had come over maybe once or thrice during the five years Fancypants had known him and they were occasions not worth remembering. Being the owner of Canterlot’s only airship factory, Blueblood seemingly felt the need to talk about that – despite having little to no insight about the topic – every so often just to keep up appearances that he was doing something worthwhile.

He also liked to drink Fancypants’ most expensive champagne.

Fancypants wandered into the living room, where Blueblood was settling into one of the chairs by the fireplace. “If I’m to keep up with any sort of conversation, I need an aspirin.”

Blueblood shrugged and flicked his hoof. “Do what you need to do. I’ll wait right here.”

Something wriggled in the back of Fancypants’ head, almost like a warning. However, he was in too much discomfort and too drowsy to think straight, so he just ignored it and staggered into the kitchen to grab a first-aid-kit from the cupboard. Working on the boat and amidst heavy machinery taught him it was a good idea to keep medical supplies around the place for quick response time.

His hangover made it difficult to use magic, but he managed. Taking two aspirin, he dropped them in a glass and filled it at the sink.

‘Really, what was I thinking?’ He thought bitterly as he drank. ‘Rejection may hurt, but that’s no excuse to drink oneself into a stupor while pouring over photos like some lovestruck-’

… Photos?

PHOTOS!!

Fancypants put his glass down, swallowed, almost choked, and raced back into the living room.

Blueblood was gone.

Panic made him break into a cold sweat as he turned and raced back upstairs, slamming into his bedroom door, slightly ajar, with his shoulder.

Blueblood didn’t turn around, he just stared at the photos strewn over the tabletop.

“Rather rude to just rifle through somepony’s house, don’t you think?” Fancypants reflexively fell back on his charm, though his smile was weak.

Blueblood turned and showed him one of Fleur’s photos. “What is this?”

“Ah, quite embarrassing. You see, one of the mares seeking my attention thought the key to winning me over was an exotic photo shoot at the coastline,” Fancypants shrugged, trying not to sweat any harder under Blueblood’s piercing gaze. Honestly, it was unnerving to see such intensity on such a lout’s face. “The costume looks almost real, doesn’t it?”

“Why did you rush up here so?” Blueblood stepped closer, waving the photo like a knife. “What’s with that reaction?”

“Old chap, would you want somepony to discover saucy pictures like these? Now, I may be rather vanilla when it comes to my taste in mares, but even you must agree that something like this can awaken-”

“You’ve been taking a lot of trips lately,” Blueblood pressed harder, forcing Fancypants to back up. “And that other night, you had all those books. I thought you were just trying to learn how to use Alteration spells to make the fish you catch bigger than usual so you could brag about it to everypony!”

“Wha-? Now, just a minute – every fish I catch is one hundred percent genuine!”

Blueblood ignored him. “Now… now I see what’s going on. It’s impossible for a normal unicorn to make it to land during such a treacherous storm, so this octopony must have been the one that saved you.”

“What, octoponies?” Fancypants rolled his eyes, feeling faint. “Come now, you’re reading too much into this. It’s nothing but some harmless fun between two ponies. Private fun, I might add, until you so rudely barged into my quarters just now.”

“Don’t try to deny it. You’re planning to use Alteration magic to-”

“In fact, I think you should leave now – you may be high in social status, but I’ll not suffer your impudence a second longer.”

“Leave?! I have…!” Blueblood paused and turned to toss the photo back. “Fine.”

“… Pardon?”

“Fine. I’ll not waste time debating this matter with you,” With a smirk that was just a touch too toothy, Blueblood walked past. “If this is truly nothing, then you wouldn’t mind me going to the coast myself?”

“Why would I?” Fancypants responded, relief filling his body as he escorted Blueblood out. He couldn’t possibly know where and when Fancypants was to meet Fleur again. “Although, if you wish to know where these photos were taken, I haven’t the foggiest idea myself.”

“That’s alright,” Blueblood said as they reached the entrance. “I figured it out from your employees.”

Fancypants froze. “P-pardon?”

“Well, I asked around at that warehouse where you make your airships and, being that the blood in my veins runs as rich as any gemstone, your employees were only too happy to chat,” Blueblood turned around as he held open the doors, smiling deviously. “I shan’t say who exactly, but they were quite curious about your trips to a specific part of the coast. Somewhere… east, perhaps?”

“I haven’t said anything about the purpose of my trips.” Fancypants answered, not entirely sure himself. He would never disclose information about Fleur to anyone, but… he had taken some of the smaller airships to the coast, which involved signing a dozen forms.

Forms that could be accessed by any of his supervisors. And he had to include the location in case of a mechanical mishap.

Mother Faust, how did he not think of that?

“Be that as it may…” Blueblood continued with a careless shrug. “I’ll be making an effort to find time in my busy schedule to venture out to the coast and see if I can’t find anything suspicious.”

“W-well, good luck to you, old chap,” Fancypants waved and tried to hide his trembling legs. “Sorry to part on such strained terms, but you know how it is.”

“Yes,” Blueblood chuckled sinisterly and walked out into the streets. “I know exactly how it is.”

The door slammed shut.

Fancypants bit his bottom lip and snuck over to the window, pulling the curtains back to form the tiniest of gaps. He watched as Blueblood trotted to the gates, turned back to glare at the mansion, then moved on with his tail flicking in agitation.

Fancypants groaned and bonked his head against the glass. “Blast.”

It was now or never.

Since Blueblood came and delivered his thinly-veiled threats, Fancypants worked himself to the bone every night between then and when he was next to meet Fleur in a desperate attempt to learn and perfect the one spell he needed. He ignored any guests, cancelled his meetings and outings, and declined invitations to any social gatherings.

He was duly aware the effect this would have on his carefully maintained reputation, but he didn’t care anymore.

Now, he was confident he had the spell down. All that was needed was to cast it. So, feeling both more tired and more awake than at any point in his life, Fancypants made his way to his airship warehouse as the sun reached its zenith and went to his office to grab a release form.

His request to commandeer his usual private airship was denied.

“‘Denied?’ What on earth is this all about?”

His tone was snappish, startling the supervisor he was speaking to, Rotor Stain. “I don’t really know myself, sir,” He said with a frustrated frown. “A few days ago, Prince Blueblood came by and ordered that no airships are to rise any higher than 100 meters to prevent interfering with pegasi weather maintenance.”

“100 meters is well below the minimum height requirement to fly an airship out of Canterlot!”

Rotor nodded. “I know. He may as well have just told us to rip off the ships’ propellers and put wheels on them if we wanted to test the engines.”

Fancypants, running on nothing but steam, snorted and stomped his hoof with uncharacteristic ferocity. “He has no authority to do this!” Rotor flinched and took a step back. “I’m taking an airship and that’s final.”

“Sir, I can’t-”

Fancypants went to move past him, but he stumbled after taking one step. The world swayed sickeningly as he collapsed, his monocle falling from his eye and cracking on the ground. Rotor gasped in alarm and called for help before moving to support Fancypants.

“Ah, wh-what…?”

“Sir, have you been eating? Sleeping?”

Fancypants hesitated. “… A little.”

Rotor groaned. “That settles it. I don’t care if you are my boss, you’re in no state to fly and that’s final. You want an airship? You’ll have to fight me for it.”

Fancypants couldn’t raise his hoof against his employees. “No, that’s…” He sighed and hung his head in defeat. “I won’t go that far. Thank you.”

“Listen – I don’t know what’s going on but get some food and some rest. Then, we can talk.”

Fancypants was too despondent to reply. He allowed himself to be led to the lobby and gratefully accepted some water and sandwiches. He chewed them slowly, feeling awful not only for Fleur but for his own behaviour. Rotor refused his apology, saying that it wasn’t necessary.

At Fancypants’ request, they left him alone to lie on the couch.

Fancypants stared up at the ceiling, despairing. “Blast it all…” He wanted to cry, but his ingrained noblepony composure was still strong enough to stop him from doing that. “I haven’t missed a day since. How long will you wait, Fleur? All day? What if Blueblood finds you? Haven’t seen nor heard from that mongrel since he dropped by.”

He was so wrapped up in self-pity that he almost didn’t hear the door opening. Sitting up and trying to look as professional as possible with his ruffled mane and clothing and cracked monocle, Fancypants noticed a familiar face entering the room.

“Echo Drop, my lad!” His mood lifted somewhat. “Good to see you again.”

The young stallion looked him over. “Is it?”

“… You’re referring to my shameful outburst earlier.”

Echo Drop frowned. “Sir… can I speak freely?”

“We’re not on sea or air; no need to ask permission.”

“Okay, then. You look like shit.”

“Hm. I’ve been called worse.”

“I noticed that you’ve been taking a lot of trips to the coast. The same one where you were found. Why is that?”

Fancypants sighed. “I won’t tell you. This is something very personal to me and… important to somepony else. Somepony very… dear to me.”

Echo Drop nodded. “Fair enough,” Another long pause. “Blueblood’s been dropping by lately,” As Fancypants listened, he seemed to reconsider. “Well, not ‘lately’ anymore, but last week he was. Kept asking a lot of questions about you.”

“About my trips to the coast, hm?”

“We didn’t tell him anything, though.”

“What?”

“He’s an ass, so nopony gave him anything,” Echo Drop licked his lips. “It… I mean, you didn’t seem to be anything bad and the supervisors said you were in sound health and mind when you took those airships, so-”

“You didn’t tell him anything?” Fancypants frowned and held his head. “Then, how did he know where…?”

And the more he thought about it, Fancypants realized how stupid he had been.

“He didn’t know,” He exclaimed in frustration and stomped his hoof again. “He just gave suggestions and my reactions cemented them!”

Blueblood knew Fleur would be near the coastal region because that’s what the background in the photos showed and that’s where an octopony would live. And the ‘eastern coast’ bit was a mere guess based on where Fancypants had been found, but because of his knee-jerk reaction, it just confirmed Blueblood’s suspicion. Not only that, but his obvious discomfort at being told this his own employees spoke about his trips just showed that he was hiding something.

“He played me like a damn fiddle! Blasted politician!”

Something flashed across Echo Drop’s eyes. “Right,” He gave a sharp nod. “I don’t know what’s going on, but Blueblood’s obviously got beef with you. What do you need to get back at him?”

“No, no, I… If I could just get to the coast, it’ll be fine, but Rotor’s right; I’m in no shape to fly an airship.”

“Then I’ll fly it.”

Fancypants scoffed. “Come now, I can’t ask you to risk your own hide for mine. Especially when I’m being so obscure.”

“You risked your hide for mine; I’d say this is more than fair.”

“But-”
“Please – this is the least of what I can do for what you did in that storm.”

“Echo Drop…” He still didn’t cry, but he did get moist-eyed – that was allowed as far as he knew. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t, then. Just come with me.”

Fancypants smiled before reality hit him square in the face once more. “But how are we to get past Rotor? I don’t like the idea of lying, but I doubt he’d agree to-”

Echo Drop just tapped the side of his nose with a cheeky grin. “Oh, I got somepony in mind to keep him distracted.”

Fancypants was reminded of the time he snuck into his father’s workshop to try and build a miniature yacht for his toy soldiers. Except back then he had the spry energy of youth and a good night’s sleep.

Now, all he had was a wide frame, a young stallion determined to fulfil a life-debt, and…

“Behold as I add one more to my repertoire!"

Whatever that was.

Fancypants poked his head over a stack of crates, cringing as Juniper put on an amazing display by juggling three - now four - tools that were used to maintain the airships. “I say, is this really alright? Those tools are quite sharp and heavy.”

“Don’t worry,” Echo Drop whispered back, urging him towards an unattended airship by lightly headbutting him in the side. “Juniper's been juggling for as long as I've known her; she's got crazy finesse with her hooves.”

Fancypants couldn't deny that; he'd seen Juniper tie ropes and balance metal sheets with speed that most unicorns couldn't accomplish with magic. In fact, Juniper was so impressive that every stallion, including Rotor, had gone over to watch in awe. That, or they were simply concerned that somepony was tossing around sensitive equipment, but the former suggestion was more optimistic.

“As the owner of this industry, I feel as if I should be concerned about the lack of productive activity.”

“Be concerned after you’ve stuck it to that poncy seadog. Now, come on.”

Fancypants was pushed along to the background chatter of Juniper and the other workers.

"Is somepony going to stop this?" Rotor cried. "She's got my lunchbox in there. How did she get my lunchbox?"

"I have many talents that would cause you alarm!" Juniper boasted. "Now, somepony toss me that drill!"

Fancypants frowned at the younger stallion. “I-”

“Eh, she’ll be fine.”

It would be an hour before the airship finally arrived at the coast.

Since they were in an airship that was technically stolen, time was of the essence. As soon as they were sailing over the ocean, Fancypants had Echo Drop take the vessel as low to the water as possible. Pulling out his pocket watch, he grimaced at the time and went to the bridge’s railing.

“No time for the ladder – I’m diving in.”

“Hey, that’s a little dangerous, isn’t it?” Echo Drop reached out as if to stop him, but he stayed behind the wheel. “I know the waters are calm, but there might be rocks and-”

“I know these waters like the back of my hoof, lad. I’ll be fine,” Preparing to take the plunge, he looked over his shoulder and gave a dazzling smile. “Thank you for everything.”

Though still confused, Echo Drop snapped off a salute. “Do what you need to, Captain – I’ll be waiting right here.”

Fancypants returned the salute, then turned and leapt into the water. “Tally-ho!”

He didn’t think he’d be leaping off another airship so soon, but this occasion was, thankfully, under more pleasant circumstances. The water was warm and calm and clear; his entry was marked by a flurry of bubbles and nothing more. Tilting his head to the surface, Fancypants swam up, broke surface, then swam to the cove’s entrance.

‘No sign of Blueblood, thank Faust,’ Fancypants thought. ‘Hmph, perhaps he was nothing but talk, after all. His place is in a courtroom, not outdoors.'

Even so, he pushed himself to make it to the cove’s entrance in record time. Scrabbling for purchase on the slippery rocks, he pulled himself up onto land like a seal in an expensive suit and rushed into the cove.

Fortune must have favoured him because Fleur was there, resting in the water while staring at a spot on the wall. She looked up in surprise once he came in and beamed magnificently.

“Fancy-”

“Fleur, so sorry I’m late, I’d like to get that out of the way first…” He took in a deep breath as Fleur raised her eyebrows at his sodden state. “Secondly, there’s something that I very much need to tell you as quickly as possible. A lot of things, actually. Not all of them good.”

“Slow down,” Fleur raised her front tentacles in a placating gesture. “Take a breath and tell me what’s going on.”
“I knew it.” Came a voice that didn’t belong to Fancypants.

Fleur squeaked in alarm and slithered back a few feet. Fancypants turned around with fury in his eyes and lit his horn.

“How did you get here?”

“I have a very lovely room in Canterlot castle,” Blueblood trotted closer, dry as a bone and dressed as if he was about to attend a soiree. “On a sunny day, I can see the whole skyline from there. As you might imagine, an airship taking to the skies despite my orders would be a highly visible thing. I just knew that it’d be you – such a stubborn stallion.”

“You waited that whole time for me to make my move…” Fancypants grunted, a cross between an amused snort and a contemptuous huff. “I must admit that I’m impressed by your tenacity; it’s surprising coming from a pony who shrieks when he got cake icing on his lapel.”

Blueblood’s only reaction was an irritated flick of the tail. “Mock me all you want, but I was two steps ahead of you in this little game. I watched for your airship, I lowered my standards to take a public train here, and I paid some yokel my own hard-earned money to rent his boat,” He snickered. “And my efforts have been rewarded.”

“This doesn’t concern you, Blueblood.”

“Oh, but it does,” Blueblood came closer, smirking. “See, I deal in politics and relationships with other species – an ambassador.”

“I’m well aware of your duties.”

“Then you understand that Equestria can’t have her waters inhabited by sentient creatures who have not made their presence known to her majesty.”

Fancypants scoffed. “Bowlderdash – Fleur’s harmless, as is the rest of her kind.”
“I see you’re familiar with each other to use her name so readily,” Blueblood snorted. “I wonder in what other ways you’re familiar.”

Fancypants ignored that. “Fleur doesn’t want to deal with all the fuss that will come from being an octopony.”

“So, you intend to make her a real pony?”

“Shut up.”

“Fancypants…” Fleur murmured. “What does he mean?”

“I…”

“He’s been learning spells that deal with the transforming of living creatures,” Blueblood answered. “If I had to guess, then it’s something along the lines of turning you into a pony so he could take you as a proper bride.”

“No! That’s not…!” Fancypants turned around, dismayed to see a look of shock on Fleur’s face. “Fleur, I have been learning transformation spells, but it’s not what you think.”

Blueblood laughed. “What a cliché thing to say.”

“You…”

Blueblood’s mirth faded as Fleur fixed him with a stern glare. “Yes?”

“Will you allow me some time to speak to Fancypants without interruption?” She paused, then added, “Please?”

Blueblood was quiet for a long second. “I’m not leaving.”

“That’s fine. Just don’t interrupt until I’ve finished.”

“… Very well.”

Fancypants felt like he had been caught with his hoof in the cookie jar when Fleur turned back to him. “I can explain.”

“Okay. Go ahead.”

“R-really?”

“Yes,” Fleur frowned. “Why is that so surprising?”

“Too many soap operas,” He mumbled with an aside glance. “But back to the transformation spells, the reason I endeavoured to learn them was because I wanted you to be able to go onto land without the need for water and without drawing attention to yourself. I wanted you to see Canterlot.”

Fleur’s eyes widened in surprise – pleasant surprise it seemed. “I see,” After a pause, her face returned to curious. “And… you decided to do that due to platonic feelings? Nothing… deeper?”

Did she sound hopeful when she said that?

Blueblood snorted. “Come now, can’t you see he’s head over heels for you? Why, he even has a collection of photos in his bedroom.”

Fancypants turned a sickly shade of grey as Fleur levelled him with a flat stare. “… In my defence, you look bedazzling in every single one. I can’t imagine a stallion that wouldn’t be enamoured with them.”

Fleur rolled her eyes. “So, what you’re telling me is that you do have feelings for me.”

“Y… yes.”

A pause. Then…

Boop

“Ow!” Fancypants recoiled and covered his muzzle. “What was that for?”

“For keeping a lady waiting,” Fleur huffed and tossed her mane back. “Honestly, I was sending all the signals that were in those magazines.”

“Wh-what?” Many things were happening at once; Fancypants’ head felt loose on his shoulders as his fatigued mind struggled to keep up. “I didn’t notice any ‘signals.’”

“Goodness gracious, must I lay in the water and expose myself like some free-spirited porpoise to get you to notice?”

Fancypants blinked. “I’m going to disregard that comparison for the time being. But, my dear, I truly didn’t notice any signals! Besides, considering that you can’t stray too far from a source of seawater, and considering that I live quite a distance away from the coast, I couldn’t imagine such a relationship working out.”

“Clearly, you must have wanted to make it work, otherwise you wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of learning a transformation spell.”

“That was so you could see the sights of Equestria without anypony knowing your true nature!”

“If the spell allowed me the freedom to see Equestria while keeping my identity hidden, then exactly what would be standing in the way of us having a romantic relationship?”

Fancypants opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Blueblood chortled. “Fancypants struck silent; never thought I’d see the day.”

“Oh, keep it quiet back there.” Fleur snapped and, quick as a blink, slipped a tentacle into the nearby water to toss a piece of seaweed at him. Blueblood shrieked and dove out of the way with the passion of a bodyguard protecting their charge.

Fancypants exhaled, long and tired. “I… didn’t realize you felt the same way I did. Since every mare that’s been interested in me has been rather forward with their intentions, I was at a loss to the more subtle nuances of flirting.”

Fleur’s expression softened. “Ah, I see. I’m sorry for bopping you on the nose.”

“Perhaps it was deserved,” Fancypants chuckled and wiped his muzzle. “I have done some questionable things to get here.”

“Tell me all about it later,” Fleur placed her tentacles on his shoulders and stared into his eyes with a remarkable smile. “At your home.”

“You mean…”

“Yes. I trust in you. Use the spell – I wish to see Canterlot.”

Fancypants’ heart felt like it was about to burst. “I-”

“I’m still here, you know!”

Fancypants closed his eyes and grumbled, “Yes, you’re quite hard to miss.”

Fleur tittered and patted him. “Leave him to me.”

She slipped by him. Fancypants turned and watched, eyebrows raised in intrigue. ‘This should be good.’

“Thank you for your understanding, Blueblood. Now, you have my full undivided attention,” Fleur prostrated before the prince grandly, even with half her tentacles splayed out as if to ensnare the stallion. Fancypants secretly hoped that was about to happen. “But ‘Blueblood’ can’t be all there is to it, no? Surely, you must have a title befitting your stature.”

The flattery seemed to make Blueblood ignore the thrown seaweed. He puffed up like a proud rooster and smiled amicably. “Prince Blueblood. Now, what say we put all that earlier unpleasantness aside?”

“Agreed.”

“Excellent. Now…” Somehow, he blew up even more. “On behalf of Equestria, I would like to welcome you to our glorious nation. Seeing as you are the first octopony that Equestria – and I – have had the privilege of speaking to, we would like to enter a peaceful co-existence.”

Fleur nodded. “Done and done. Now, let’s go, Fancypants.”

Blueblood faltered. “Ah, wait, no… You see, there are many gatherings and forms and treaties that we must-”

“No, we don’t.” Fleur shook her head.

“Yes, we do.”

“Nope.”

Fancypants held back a laugh as Blueblood stared at Fleur blankly, as if the firmness of Fleur’s dismissals was erasing everything he knew about politics.

“May I ask why, then?”

“Because I’m no ambassador and I can’t speak for my kind, especially when they’re all so intent on keeping themselves hidden. How will you negotiate with a species that don’t want to negotiate? Do you intend to send me to quell their fears? It’s not as if I have some latent ability to sense where my kind is in the vastness of the ocean.”

“Well-”

“I don’t want to do that. I want to transform into a pony like you so that I can see Canterlot and court that handsome fellow back there.”

Fancypants waved cheekily as Blueblood glanced over. “I do believe that’s me~”

“This is a matter of national security and routine,” Blueblood retorted. “I understand you wish to follow your own wishes and all, but I can’t ignore the potential harm that can come of thi-”

“Are you alone?”

“Pardon?”

“Alone. Are you by yourself?” Fleur made a show of looking around. “I don’t see anypony else here.”

Blueblood hesitated. “I informed Princess Celestia, the monarch of our nation, of my intentions.”

“And?”

“… She told me to have a good trip. Said that taking the Royal Guard to investigate rumours of octoponies is not a proper use of their time.”

“So, you’re alone.”

“… Yes.”

“You’re the only pony who was suspicious of Fancypants, the only one who followed, the only one standing between us and freedom.”

The prince turned the colour of his name. “Um…”

“Don’t worry – we’re not going to do anything to you,” Fleur winked. “Just like how you aren’t going to do anything to us.”

“Eh?”

“I don’t think you’re the type of pony to intentionally cause physical harm to another being. So, there’s no physical obstacle impeding us if we were to, say, go outside the cove and/or cast the transformation spell right here.”

“Now, wait just a minute…” Blueblood came back with a bit more steel in his tone. “What you’ve said is true, but I’ll not be dissuaded so easily. I’ve worked with foreign parties as one of Celestia’s finest diplomats for nearly ten years. A fact which Fancypants will attest to, even if he may begrudge it.”

Fancypants grunted. “Hmph… Indeed.”

“I cannot simply let something slide because it would be difficult to stop. Cast your spell, exit the cove, travel to Canterlot if you wish, but I will be watching you every day until I see an opportunity to expose your true nature,” Blueblood seemed to draw strength from his own words. “That you can be sure of.”

Fleur closed her eyes and sighed. “You don’t know my ‘true nature,’ Blueblood.”

“Which is why I can’t be certain that you have some hidden agenda that might be detrimental to Equestria’s wellbeing.”

“Then get to know me,” Fleur replied. “I understand that you’re only doing what you feel is best for your home. Am I wrong?”

Blueblood slowly shook his head. “No.”

“Well, I want to ask that before you do what you feel is best, please take the chance to allow me to visit your city as one of you. While I’m there, we can talk and have tea, learn more about one another the way Fancypants and I learned about each other.”

Blueblood looked down at his hooves, frowning. “But… to keep mum about a foreign species right under her Majesty’s nose doesn’t feel right.”

“Isn’t it fine if the foreign species doesn’t have ill intentions? If her own kind are as in the dark about her whereabouts, too?”

“I…”

Fancypants cleared his throat. “If I may get a word in?” Blueblood cautiously nodded and he moved closer to Fleur’s side. “If it weren’t for Fleur, I’d be dead. She saved me out of the kindness of her own heart. Do you really think somepony
like that could be dangerous?”

Blueblood looked stricken as he groaned low in his throat and turned around, running his hoof through his mane. “The train ride and this salt air must be playing havoc with my senses… because I find myself wanting to believe you.”

Silence stretched between them for a long while. Fleur looked at Fancypants and he gave an assuring smile before turning back to the conflicted prince.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Blueblood turned around, sullen. “I can’t help but feel that if I play along with your little game, everything I’ve done to catch you two has ultimately been for nothing.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Fleur retorted brightly. “You’d have gained the gratitude of one lovely mare and one charming stallion.”

“Even if that stallion wishes to throttle you for meddling in his internal affairs.” Fancypants said through gritted teeth.

“And you’re one of only three ponies that can confirm the ‘myth’ of the octoponies; I’d say that makes you quite special.”
Blueblood snorted. “My dear, I’m a learned diplomat and a trusted advisor to Princess Celestia,” He paused to gesture to his face. “And I look like this. Of course, I am special.”

Fancypants had to hold his tongue between his teeth as every cell in his body cringed terrifically. “Glk!”

Blueblood sighed and looked over his shoulder at the splashing waves. “You win. I won’t say a word about this. Provided…!” He glanced back sharply. “You remain a non-issue to Equestria. If I catch wind, the slightest hint that you’re doing something nefarious, I’ll be on you in an instant. You can be certain of that.”

“You’re a true gem, Blueblood,” Fleur waved as the prince turned and trudged out of the cove. “I saw something in a magazine called an ‘apple pie’ that I’ll bake for you as thanks!”

“Ugh! Peasant food? No thank you.”

“Well, I’ll figure something out. What say we meet at Fancypants’ home for a chat? Say in three days?”

Blueblood grunted something out that sounded like an agreement and disappeared around the cave’s entrance, presumably to the boat he had rented out.

Assured that he was gone, Fancypants turned to Fleur with a smile. “My dear, where did you learn to talk like that?”

“Years of listening to fast-talking ponies on a radio show.”

“I see.”

Fleur grinned. “So…”

“So…”

“About that spell…”

“My dear, I must ask you again,” Fancypants took one of her tentacles in his hoof and looked her deep in the eyes. “Is this something you truly want? The spell isn’t permanent, so I can reverse it any time you wish.”

“That’s fortuitous,” Fleur said, coiling the limb around his foreleg. “As much as I want to experience a body like yours, I adore the one I have now. And yes, Fancypants, I am certain that this is what I want. I want to see Canterlot. I want to see where you live. I want to be by your side as your lover, not only a friend.”

All the fatigue in Fancypants’ body seemed to vanish as he instinctively leaned in, his horn lighting up. “I am lucky to have met you.”

Fleur laughed lightly and leaned in, too. “Lucky to have fallen overboard? What a strange thing to say.”

“What can I say? I find the unusual highly appealing.”

As Fancypants closed his eyes and felt a cool pair of lips meet his own, he discharged the magic accumulated in his horn.

Echo Drop’s jaw dropped when Fancypants brought a wobbly, wide-eyed mare onboard, but Fancypants just smiled bashfully and shrugged, conveying without words, ‘I’ll explain everything later.’ Echo Drop released a long exhale, shook his head in bafflement, and steered the airship back to Canterlot while trying to stop Fleur from touching all the controls.

As soon as they got back to the warehouse, Fancypants and co. were greeted by Rotor, who looked… well… ‘displeased’ was an understatement.

“Sir…” He began, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “Please tell me that we’re not going to have a repeat of this anytime soon.”

Fancypants was too embarrassed to try and play it cool, so he just cowered like a teen caught after curfew and nodded. “You have my word.”

Then, from behind Rotor, Juniper appeared with her mane tousled and a patchwork of bandages and plasters covering her body.

Echo Drop swallowed hard.

Fleur, unconcerned with everything, just stared up at the ceiling. “Ooh, how did that lunchbox get all the way up there?"

“Are you alright, my dear? You walked all the way here, but if you’re tired, or anything…?"

“No, I’m fine, really,” Fleur made a pretty coo of wonder as she crossed the threshold and entered Fancypants’ abode. “This is amazing!” She carefully made a circle. “I’d have never seen anything like this in the ocean.”

“Mm.” Fancypants shuffled into the living room and collapsed into his chair, a mighty yawn piercing the air.

“And the ponies wear so much!” Fleur walked in front of him and struck one of her poses that was made all the more sensual by her long legs. “Do you think I could be a model?”

“Mm.”

“I thought it’d be hard using these legs, but it’s actually quite similar to my tentacles. I just have to remember to lift more than push.”

“Mm.”

There was a pause before Fleur walked over and nuzzled the side of his head. Fancypants leaned into it, feeling utterly blissed out and content.

“It’s been a trying time for you, hasn’t it?” She said, earning a murmur. “You know… when I saw you swimming in the middle of that storm, I thought you were just an unlucky sailor. I never thought that you’d be my prince to whisk me away to unfamiliar lands.”

“And I expected to be in the afterlife getting an earful from my father about properly tying down the sails,” Fancypants closed his eyes and breathed in her scent. “Didn’t expect to meet an angel.”

Fleur chuckled. “Oh, that silver tongue of yours.”

Fancypants could feel himself drifting off into slumber. “Mm.”

“You have your rest, my dear,” Fleur slipped away. Her hooves clapped against the floor. “I’m sure I can find your bedroom on my own~”

Fancypants shifted into a more comfortable position. “Mm.”

One moment passed.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Fancypants’ eyes shot open and he leapt out of his chair to chase after her. “Ah, perhaps I can help with that?”

Fleur’s laughed carried through the house.