A Princess and Princess Show

First: Obtain measurements. Patrick sat through a train ride and wandered around Canterlot Castle until he found a mannequin (ponyquin?) with Celestia’s and Luna’s measurements.

To transport it?

Patrick tried holding them under each arm, but their weight sent him horribly off balance if he tried to fly too quickly, and keeping low made him constantly run into oblivious ponies. In the end he found himself going back on the train with the mannequins trapped over his legs.

Second: Dressmaker. Obviously, there was only one up to the task. Though to be fair, Rarity was also the only pony he knew where to find. Patrick found that he couldn’t really phase anything other than himself, so he had to manhandle to two giant figures out of the train and into Carousel Boutique.

Patrick stuck the mannequins into the lobby, and wrote up a ‘To Do List’ on a notepad he found, for whenever Rarity felt bored or whatever. He wasn’t exactly in a rush.

He sat on a couch inside the lobby, watching Rarity sometimes come in to do her thing. Sometimes, there was a customer who walked in to place an order. Patrick drank a cup of tea. “Huh, pretty good.” Afterwards he washed it.

When he went back, he noticed a few scraps of paper with dress designs draw on them. Hey, that’s Celestia. Right on.”

He leaned back, watching Rarity add little flairs from time to time.

Patrick glanced at a clock, frowned, then looked back. “I know I’m mostly just having fun, but you really shouldn’t lose sleep over this.”

The clocked ticked ever further away from midnight, but Rarity kept sketching designs.

“Alright, dress horse, I’m cutting you off right there.” He stepped up to her, grabbing the quill out of her magic and holding it down against the table, and turning off the lamp with his other hand. Then he pushed her head away from the table towards the stairs, guiding her awkwardly to her bedroom. A few times she turned her head to look back, but Patrick held her firm, and pushed her onwards.

Once on the second floor, Rarity sighed and went forwards on her own, wincing when she almost stumbled. “Guess I really do need the sleep.” Patrick still held her to his leg (her head was just under his waist), and supported her to the bathroom.

He paused at the doorway, but stopped before he turned away. “Wait a minute, who would even care?”

He followed Rarity in, made sure she didn’t fall over, then helped her scrub her body down, dry off, and prepare for bed.

After making sure Rarity didn’t fall over onto the floor, he floated back into the lobby. Half an hour passed. “Shit, I don’t think I need to sleep. Now what?”

He ended up just cuddling Rarity for the night.

Patrick sipped a smoothie from behind a newspaper. He looked up when he heard the ring of the Boutique’s bell. “Welcome home,” he called out, putting down the paper and drink and shuffling to the kitchen.

He whistled as he pulled out ingredients from the fridge and pantry, and putting together a simple meal over the stove. Behind him, Rarity settled onto the seat of her sewing table. She had no pressing orders, and was finishing up the dresses he had ‘ordered.’

He put the steamed platter beside her. “Thanks, I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Rarity absentmindedly levitated a fork to eat with. She didn’t answer. No one did. There were other ways to express his appreciation though. He didn’t spend days crouched inside the Lotus sisters’ spa for nothing.

So he crouched behind her, and made a good attempt at kneading her tired back. He smiled when her shoulders drooped in relaxation.

After a few weeks of on and off work, Rarity finally finished the dresses he ‘commissioned.’ Patrick had absolutely no idea what constituted fashion on this planet, but he figured that he should trust Rarity’s judgement on this.

He slid the folded dresses into a paper bag. Rarity was cleaning up the sewing table behind him. Patrick stood up, about to move towards the door, and stopped. He looked back, frowning. Somehow, he felt like he was missing something.

Rarity did most of the work, he just sat off to the side mooching off her free time. Massages were nice, but she could have spent that time with friends instead of on a ghost she couldn’t even see.

However, whenever Rarity was out of the house, Patrick had experimented with how much he could influence the world. Some of the results of his tests passed through his mind.

He rested the bag on the side of the lobby, and fished out a paper pad and a pencil.

There were other ways he could express his appreciation.

Rarity walked into the bathroom, her hooves dragging. She hummed slightly incoherently as she checked her shampoo and soap bottles were still full.

She turned at sat upon her toilet seat, and caught notice of a small slip of paper falling to the ground.

Why, it would be interesting if Celestia came by to thank her ...

Patrick quietly closed the door behind him.