SunsetView OnlineWingmanicideSunset“Uh... Flash? Do... uh... d-do you think I can tell you a secret?” He finished sipping from a half-empty bottle of water. A sweaty, aching mess, Flash Sentry exhaled and wiped his brow before glancing towards the far end of the half-furnished room. Sunset Shimmer sat on the edge of the sofa that he had just helped her move across the dusty living space. She too was sweaty, and the young woman used a tiny white towel to dab the moisture away from her exposed neck and chin above an old, ugly t-shirt. After three full hours of moving things into her new apartment, she was just as exhausted and worn out as he was... but that wasn't the reason she was blushing at the moment. Flash knew it—he knew enough about her to realize that something serious was weighing on her mind. The not-so-subtle way her eyes avoided his direct gaze only hammered in the fact. “Of course,” he said breathily, nevertheless remaining calm and composed. It was a humbling thing to see so much anxiety in Sunset's complexion. He had long learned to be his ex-girlfriend's anchor whenever the need arose—which was growing more and more frequent as of late. “Tell away.” Sunset chewed on her bottom lip. She wrinkled the cloth in her tender grip and slowly rose her sensitive eyes to meet his. “I... I'm thinking of asking her out on a date. Do... do you think it's too soon? I mean, after she and Timber... … ...” Flash blinked. In truth, this was hardly surprising. Nevertheless, he felt it best to at least pretend to give the answer some thought. So he waited a few seconds, looked away, took another casual sip of his water, and half-spoke to the walls: “Better sooner than later, Sunset.” He looked at her and flashed a friendly smolder. “From what I hear, Twilight's surrounded daily in her research programs by tons and tons of supergeeks. If you don't rush in to sweep her up, somebody else will!” Sunset's entire body locked up defensively—as he knew would happen. “I'd trample somebody before they laid a single finger on my... er... I mean on...” She winced, running a shameful hand through her beautiful, fiery hair. “That sounded wrong. Of course, Twilight isn't 'my' anything...” “It's okay...” Flash smiled dully. “I know what you mean.” “It's just that... even if it's okay to rush things a bit... considering how long we've been so close to one another... I-I don't want to make any horrible mistakes. After all, the last time I dated anyone... I was really... that is to say...” She threw him a pitiful look, eyes glimmering with guilt. “...I did an awful lot of—” “That was a different you, Sunset,” Flash insisted. “But—” He held his hand up. “You've done nothing but mold yourself into a paragon of virtue since then. A big reason for that is Twilight.” Flash exhaled calmly, meditatively. “And she wouldn't be where she is today if it weren't for the journey you've taken these past few years. She appreciates it, Sunset.” Flash placed his water bottle down. “She appreciates you.” There was a noticeable lilt of tender hope in Sunset's voice. “You really think so...?” “Only one way to find out.” Flash stood up and shuffled over towards a stack of cardboard boxes resting in the fading sunlight through the windows. “Bite the bullet and just ask her out... y'know... on a date-date.” “A date-date...” Sunset purred and cringed at the same time. “After all, why not?” Flash opened a box and started pulling clusters of books out, stacking them atop a bookshelf that they had shoved against the wall an hour ago. “You've both taken bigger risks before. And you've patiently stuck it out all this time by her side while she dated Timber Stupid. You're the most sincere person in her life and she couldn't possibly be luckier. Now just... take it to the next level. You know you want to... and I'm pretty sure we all know Twilight wants to as well.” “Mmmmmmm...” Sunset hugged herself as a noticeable rosiness spread across her cheeks. “You... you really think so...?” “Do I have to repeat myself?” Flash droned. “Well, no...” “Just...” He paused to point a finger at her. “...don't go to the movies on the first date. It's a lousy way to get to know someone you've crushed on forever.” “But... Twilight and I know everything about each other.” “Heh. Good point.” “Wait...” Sunset hopped off the sofa and shuffled over to his side, squinting. “...the first time we started dating, you suggested a movie on the first night.” Flash squirmed slightly. “Mmmmmmm... yeahhhhhhhh...” Sunset blinked. Then—with a wry smirk across her face—she joined him in placing the books onto the shelf. “Every year that goes by, you prove to me that you're smarter and smarter than I ever once imagined.” “Yeah, well...” Flash opened another box and started emptying its contents out. “...you didn't ask for my help with the move cuz my brain was strong.” “It's the heart that matters, Flash. It's what's always mattered.” “Spoken like a true magical horse woman girl unicorn person thingy.” “Heehee... just...” Sunset nudged him. “Promise me that you won't speak a word of this to anyone else until after I've talked to Twilight... please...?” Flash smiled calmly at her. “What kind of a friend would that make me?”
TwilightView OnlineWingmanicideTwilight“Really?” Twilight Sparkle's voice came in cute, muffled huffs through the breathing mask strapped over her petite mouth and button-nose. She stood stock still with a trough of paint held in her tender arms. “Nothing could possibly weird you out?” “Jee, I dunno...” Propped on a ladder above her, Flash Sentry reached over and dipped his paint roller into the trough. After soaking it liberally, he proceeded to paint another vertical stretch of the guest room in the eggshell white material. He spoke through an identical mask as he worked. “...you possess a grander mental scope than I ever could, Miss Sparkle. If 'cosmic existenial horror' counts as 'weirding me out,' then there's always a distinct possibility.” She pouted, her face scrunching around the mask protecting her from paint fumes. “It's not scientific. It's personal.” “Oh?” He painted and painted. “How personal?” “Well, technically, everything is scientific... but psychology is not my specialty—” “Just spit it out, Twilight. I can take it—” “IthinkIhaveromanticfeelingsforSunset!” She blurted, hugging the trough so hard that the paint made tiny wave-tank-like ripples. “... … ...” He glanced over. His next dip of of the paint roller was as slow and concentrated as his gaze. “You don't say...” “Is that too weird?” Twilight's knees came close to knocking together. “For m-me to feel so amorously about my best friend?” “It's not even remotely weird, Twilight...” “You sure? It's not weird at all?” “If you're afraid of a stoning, don't be. You're about twelve time zones away.” “No what I mean is...” Twilight sighed. Her pose relaxed somewhat, but noticeable jitters remained in her voice. “All of this time she's been my friend. My very close best friend. Why—she taught me everything I know about friendship! She even stuck by my side when I was going out with Timber! She's done way more for me than I could ever ask for and... and yet...” She bit her lip. “...to suddenly expect something more from her?” Flash glanced between the girl beneath him and the painting task above. “Is it quite so sudden?” “Huh...?” “Sunset Shimmer is a radiant, beautiful, sexy, inspiring young woman, Twilight,” he said, giving the roller another dip. “Trust me. I know.” “Awwww Copernicus!” Twilight cursed. “I didn't even stop to think about the implications of that! And here you are helping me redecorate mom and dad's guest room too!” Twilight gave a melancholic sigh. “I really am the worst...” “Hardly, Twilight.” Flash painted and painted. “If you were the worst, why do you think Sunset hangs out with you so much?” Twilight's eyes darted up through her glasses. “You make a point! She does like being with me, doesn't she?” “... … ...” Flash leaned in place with the roller squishing wetly against the wall, dripping eggshell goop. “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh...” “But—she's got so much on her plate as it is,” Twilight muttered, gazing aside once more. “What—with having to rein in all the wayward magic wafting in from Equestria. Plus, she's writing the Princess all the time and trying to preserve her pony proclivities...” A beat, and then Twilight giggled off to the side. “Pretty prancing pony proclivities...” “You sound smitten, alright.” “I-I just don't want to ruin all of that, y'know?” Twilight looked up. “It's just... she's what I think about every day! When I wake up... when I go to bed... I'm thinking about her... I'm texting her... and... and I know she came to this world to spread the joy of friendship, but she doesn't need me absorbing all of her time and attention to the point that she loses grasp of what she first came here for and—” “What if it's you?” Twilight blinked. “Huh?” Flash looked down at her as he made for another dip of paint. “What if what she came to this world for all this time... was you?” He arched an eyebrow. “And you're just fretting over nothing because you're both destined for each other?” “But... but how can you be so sure of that, Flash...?” He lingered. He glanced at Twilight, at the wall, at the lengths of the room left to change its shade. At last, the young man shrugged. “Call it a hunch.” She sighed, but the dimples along the edges of her mask belied a cute smile. “I like the sound of that hunch.” “Good. Now let's get the rest of this wall done before my arms fall off.” “Oh! I'm sorry! D-do you want to take turns on the ladder or—?” “I was just making a joke, Twilight.” “Oh. Of course. But... uh...” She cleared her throat and glanced eagerly up at him. “You will keep that a secret, won't you?” “Hmmm?” “What I just confessed to you about Sunset... you won't tell anyone?” Flash winked down at her. “Not a soul.”
RainbowView OnlineWingmanicideRainbow“Gosh dang it, Flash!!!” Rainbow Dash's voice crackled through the stereo headphones. “Where are those heals?!?” “S-sorry!” Flash gnashed his teeth, hammering away the mouse and keyboard of his computer rig. A sci-fi urban landscape blurred past the first person perspective of his avatar. “Had to deal with a camping Tracer right outside of spawn.” “Well get your butt over here! I can't defend the point without my favorite Moira main!” Flash let loose a long sigh through a tired smile as his eyes darted back and forth across his monitor. “No sense in wasting a compliment.” He heard her chuckle through the headphones. “Yeah yeah. Just keep focus. My back's aching enough as it is with all this carrying I've been doing.” For a while, nothing could be heard save for the repetitious sounds of stock gunshots, explosions, and HUD alerts. Flash breathed evenly, his body bent in an intense lean towards the monitor as he kept his gaze on his fellow teammates. Then—out of the digitized blue—the main tank's voice warbled over party chat: “So... Fluttershy's got some sexy legs, don't you think?” Flash's fingers slipped, and he flung a dark purple orb blindly against a wall. “Huh?” “What? Are you blind?! You saw her sunbathing on spring break!” A massive German hammer slammed a cyborg ninja into ragdolling chaos before blurring wildly across Flash's computer screen. “She's like a pixie made of gold! And that pink hair! You ever suppose silk could burn?” Flash blinked, struggling to keep the HP of his teammates in line. “Get it? Cuz she's so friggin' hot?” The air grew warm in Flash's room. Sweat formed along his brow—and it wasn't because of a Sombra hack. “Hellooooo?!? Earth to Flash! You're telling me you never noticed?!” “I... uh...” Flash cleared his throat. Once the cooldown of his healing ability reset, he restored sweet sweet health to the emoting avatar in front of him. “Sure, I noticed. I just... didn't realize I was supposed to...” “It's no big secret! Fluttershy's a total knock-out babe!” Rainbow's voice cracked across the Internet. “Like—for real! She could pose for supermodel magazines! Just ask Rarity! She's begged forever to take photos of her!” “I didn't know that Rarity had wanted to—” “But has Rarity spent all of her life around Fluttershy? Protecting her?? Fighting off creeps and bullies and would-be-stalkers???” “I... uh... erm...” “That's right! I have! Me! Not Rarity! Not anybody else! I'm telling you... no person on this planet has known and protected Fluttershy like I have!” Flash shrugged into the shadows of his room. “Guess... that's why you're a Rein main...” “... … ...that's why it's not so weird that... th-that someone like me would fantasize about her in bed at night, right?” Flash opened his mouth— “Or—like—maybe even in the shower?” A dry cough formed in the young man's throat. “Uhm...” “AAAAAH!” his headphones exploded. Flash nearly leapt out of his seat. “GAAAH!” There was a pounding sound through the ear speakers. “Gosh dang friggin' Hanzos! I thought they nerfed him!” Flash wheezed for a breath, scrambling to patch up his remaining teammates. “And it's such a long friggin' walk to the first point! Dammit, Flash—why couldn't you be a Mercy main so you could rez me?!” “I... I-I'm sorry! I was too busy... uhm... the Doomball... I-I mean the Wreckingfist... I mean—” “You didn't answer my question.” “What question? Rainbow—!” Flash gnashed his teeth as he saw an arrow fly between his avatar's eyes, dropping her Irish ragdoll to the ground. Sighing, the young man rubbed the bridge of his nose and muttered into his mic. “I have to admit. Fluttershy's pretty gorgeous...” “So it's... not super weird of me... right?” Flash rolled his eyes and shrugged. “You ask me...” He droned. “...it's kind of weird that you've been living with such an Aphrodite all your life and somehow haven't proposed to her by now.” The line was silent for a space. Until: “Really?” her voice cracked. “Yes, Rainbow. Really.” “So... … ...asking her someday to go chilling somewhere—just the two of us—wouldn't be too far out of the ballpark, you think?” Flash's arms fell to his desk with an audible slap. “You know what, Rainbow...?” He shook his head with a tired smile. “Roll D.Va for once—metaphorically. Knock yourself out.” “You really think so?” “Why wouldn't I?” “Hell—I think I just might do that!” Rainbow's voice lilted with melodic joy. “Heheheh—but mark my words! This is totally a secret! Don't you go telling anybody!” Flash took a deep breath and took control of his respawned avatar. “I wouldn't dream of it.” “And get back to pocketing! Stat! It's enough that you've wasted two ults since the round started.” “Mrnnnnghhhh-mmmhmmmmm...”
FluttershyView OnlineWingmanicideFluttershyThe checkered ball flew across the field—until it ricocheted off Rainbow's flat chest. The young athlete came down from her leap and—with a devilish smirk plastered across her sweaty face—she gained control of the ball, dribbling it down the field as her teammates ran parallel to offer support. The air filled with cheers as the CHS alumni watched their team from the bleachers. They hooted and hollered to support the players. Meanwhile, the ball went towards one half of the field... then back... then forward again... then back once again. Back and forth and back and forth... Flash Sentry couldn't help it. His eyelids grew heavy. He propped his chin against his palm and leaned sleepily forward. The sounds of players yelling and grunting grew indistinct, forming a hushed rain in the corners of his mind. He was seconds away from teetering off the topmost seat of the bleachers altogether when he heard— “She's so adorable.” Flash blinked awake. With thin eyes, he looked towards the dainty figure sitting to his immediate left. Fluttershy sat like a prim and proper maiden on Sunday morning. Her folded hands rested atop her skirted lap as she gazed warmly at the most colorful sight darting back and forth across the field. Her calm eyes reflected Rainbow's whipping hair and kicking feet. With each resounding motion the offensive player made, her smile grew warm and warmer. “Hmmmmm... even when the spotlight paints her as an action hero, she's just as tender and precious as ever.” Flash fought cobwebs in his brain. Crackling joints, he sat up, wiped a hint of drool from the corner of his mouth, and forcibly woke himself to the moment. “Mrmmmff... do tell...” “It's all an act,” Fluttershy declared. “A stageplay. Even to herself.” She threw Flash a wink—a very happy one. “But she can't fool me.” “I... I would guess not...” He fought the urge to yawn. “After all, you've known her the longest.” “How did you know that?” Fluttershy asked. “... … ...” Flash's fingers gripped the bleacher seat beneath him like a vice. His eyes darted about. “... … ...uhmmmmmm.” “No matter. One of us must have told you at some point.” Fluttershy gazed into the field below once again, her expression more contemplative. “It's true. Rainbow and I have known each other since we were in preschool. I suppose it's why I can... mmmmm... tolerate her brash actions more...” Flash rubbed one eye, then the other. “You mean the way she thinks constantly of herself, brags for no reason, and only does acts of heroism in a last-second pinch?” “She's an over-achiever,” Fluttershy said. “And as for the bragging—it's to cover how afraid she is.” “Afraid of what?” “Everything,” Fluttershy said. “Deep down—Rainbow's just a squishy little sweetheart. Soft. Tender. Cuddly. A lot like the animals I look after at the shelter.” “Uhhhhhhhhhhhh—” “Don't tell me you don't see it as well...” Fluttershy looked over at Flash. “...in the tiny, precious moments when she's nervous and squirmy?” Flash threw on an improvised smile. “I suppose it isn't my place.” “She wouldn't let it,” Fluttershy said. “She wouldn't let anybody think they'd be in the position to look after her as she insists on looking after all of her friends.” Fluttershy let loose a melodic sigh. Hugging herself, she gazed lovingly down at the field. “But I'll be there for her. Even when she doesn't expect it. She's done her best to protect me all these years. Now that we're all growing up and the complications of the world threaten to pressure her... I want to be there for Rainbow Dash. I want her to... to be held and comforted for a change.” Flash cleared his throat. “I bet she's ticklish.” Fluttershy giggled so hard she nearly fell off the bleachers. She cupped a hand to her blushing face and smiled at the boy. “My thoughts exactly! Why—Flash Sentry, are you psychic?” “No,” Flash exhaled. “Just here.” “You're so kind and calm and patient,” Fluttershy said. “With all of us, Flash. Ever since the portal opened and all our lives grew more and more magical... and more and more unpredictable. You've been here this entire time... so dependable and strong.” Flash shrugged with a small smile. “If there's anything you can count on being predictable, it's me.” Fluttershy giggled again. “And you're also so delightfully funny. It mystifies me why Sunset ever stopped going out with you.” Flash exhaled long and hard, staring into the hard turf of the soccer field. “The truth only gets funnier...”
RarityView OnlineWingmanicideRarity“And that's when she lifts me up in her strong, buxom arms...” Rarity—with stars in her eyes—paused before the rows of multi-colored fabric to gesture before the stained-glass windows of her boutique. “...and the moonlight catches the golden glisten of her hay-blonde hair! And with a purr in her voice that would make leopards jealous, she stares deep into my soul and says: 'My loft or yours, fair maiden?'” She sighed. She rested a hand over her bosom. She whimpered out the side of her powdery lips. “...but I wake up before the nightly dream can reach its exquisite culmination.” A pouting expression. “Isn't that positively dreadful?” Flash Sentry stood before her, upper body aching from all the stacks of silken fabrics he held balanced in his forearms. His eyes gazed at the urban grayness beyond the nearby window frame. “Is it something in the water...?” he droned. Rarity blinked at him. “Hmmmm?” “I suppose not,” Flash sighed. “Or else all the frogs would go extinct.” “Flash, darling, what are you going on about?” He snapped out of it and donated her a friendly smile. “You were saying about this Applejack dream of yours...?” “Uhhff!” Rarity huffed, grabbing another armful of fabrics and stacking it atop Flash's already tenuous load. “Honestly, Mr. Sentry! Due in no small part to your gentlemanly confidence, I was simply sharing a frustratingly reoccurring vision of mine that has been haunting my sleep as of late!” She sashayed across the boutique and motioned for him to follow. “What ever made you infer any relation to our dearest friend Applejack??” “Uhm...” Flash's eyes were razors as he followed her to her work studio. “...because this woman you keep dreaming about is tall...” “I like exceptional height.” “And blonde.” “'Tis a good color.” “Freckled and with green eyes.” “Merely a coincidence—” “And...” He grunted, heaving the fabrics up a step or two until he stood evenly with her beside her work desks. “...she has a distinctly southern accent in all fantasy encounters.” “Erm...” Rarity twiddled her colored fingernails nervously together. “Which one? The pirate version or the vampire version?” “Both.” Rarity sighed, leaning faintly against the back of a desk chair. “... … ...am I truly that transparent, darling?” Flash managed a sweaty smile. “When you're white as a sheet, Rarity, you tend to show all the warmest colors.” “Alas... a curse I shall never be cleansed of.” She waved a finger at the edge of the desk. “Right there, if you would please. You've been burdened enough as it is, you poor thing.” Flash deposited the heavy fabrics with a breath of relief. “Who are you dressing up?” he wheezed, wiping his brow. “The local sumo team?” “It's... just a phase, right?” Rarity asked, blushing noticeably. “I've... always wanted a strong... dashing... dependable and strong presence in my life...” Flash rubbed his aching shoulder. “You don't say...” She twirled a purple bang or two, gazing at a desktop photo of a certain blonde friend. “It's just that... she's always there... always so on point with everything I need or ask from her...” A soft sigh. “...smelling of a full day's worth of hard work and sweat and hay... with just a hint of jasmine.” A chuckle escaped her pretty lips. “The oversized minx. She said she threw the bottle I gave her away...” “Uhhhhh—” “But I'll grow out of it.” Rarity cleared her throat, straightening her body into a prim and proper work-pose as she slid into a chair and switched on her sewing machine. “Perhaps my beleaguered mind doesn't quite know what to do with the wayward emotions I feel when around Applejack, but—like all phases—I'll carry myself on through it... psyche in tow. It's only a matter of time.” “You would know best, Rarity.” “Indeed I would. A proper lady keeps her priorities straight.” Flash nodded. He opened his mouth to say something— “Incidentally, though, I have to ask...” She turned and gestured towards the fabric. “In the off-chance that Applejack and I were to collectively attend a fancy soiree in uptown Canterlot City, do you think we would both look equally exquisite in salmon pink?” Flash merely stared at her. Rarity gulped. “Right.” She pivoted in her chair until she faced the sewing machine. “I see cold showers for a week in my future.”
ApplejackView OnlineWingmanicideApplejack“Thanks for the lift, partner,” Applejack said as she shut the passenger door of her family truck and buckled up. “Not so much for my sake—but for the apples.” Flash nodded, shifting the vehicle in reverse and performing a K-Turn. As he looked behind, he craned his neck to look past the baskets full of apples stacked up in the back of the truck. “I'll make sure you get them to the market on time.” “Usually this would be a task for Big Mac...” Applejack squirmed guiltily in her seat. “...but with him bein' down with the flu and all, it's either ask Granny Smith or call in a Goober.” “An Uber,” Flash corrected. “Whatever—I'm sure they dun do freshly-picked fruit deliveries no-how. Plus—Granny Smith hasn't driven a vehicle under twenty miles per hour in over two decades! And we can't afford to lose any of the produce as she tries to pull some Duke Boys hogwash!” “Good thing you've got me.” Flash winked as he backed the car out of the east field of Sweet Apple Acres. “I happen to be so careful of a driver that squirrels scamper loops around my wheels.” He shifted again, turned the wheel, and banked onto the dirt road leading towards the main path out of the subdivision. “Which... kinda makes you wonder why I own a muscle car, but that's a tale for another time...” “I'm awful sorry to be botherin' you with this, Flash,” Applejack said with a sigh. “Each time I try to find the time to study up for fetchin' my own license, I get caught up in one gul-durn thang or another! Why—just last week—all my free time got filled with helpin' try on dresses for Rarity! Heh! Can you imagine that?!” Flash took a deep breath. He paused the car and signaled before turning onto the main asphalt path. “I guess I can...” “She can be so dag-blame'd demandin' at times! I swear!” Applejack rolled the window down and hung an arm lazily outside the car as the trees and countryside blurred by. “It's almost like she's lookin' for excuses to have me around her Boutique!” “Uh huh...” “Which is a hoot—cuz I have absolutely no hankerin' for dresses and all that other fru-fru-y nonsense...” “Uh huh... …” “Still... the way she gets herself worked up so much about fashion and whatnot...” Applejack brushed her blonde bangs back, only for the wind to kick them loose once more. She gazed thoughtfully into the passing scenery. “...it's awful enchantin'. And she's always wantin' to share her passion with me when she's... she's at her happiest.” “Uh huh... … ...” Applejack weathered a calm breath. The freckles on her face swam in a brief, rosy sea. Not long after, she turned to look at the good samaritan driving her family truck. “Flash, I dun reckon you think that maybe—just maybe—a gal like that and I could—?” “Rarity is madly attracted to you to the point that it's driving her to distraction and her subconscious is forcing her to experience sensual bodice-ripping fantasies about you as either a vampire or a pirate sweeping her off her feet every night.” Applejack blinked. “Oh.” She blinked again. “Well, alright then.” Flash nodded. Applejack nodded. They drove onto the highway and cruised in silence... ...until someone shoved in a cassette tape of Lynard Skynard to drown out the awkwardness.
PinkieView OnlineWingmanicidePinkie“And while she might be predictable—it's a super silly and funny predictable! And the rosiness to her cheeks and the scarlet flourish in her hair—duaaaaaaaah!” Pinkie Pie tilted back in the park bench, gasping deeply. When she was finished, her smile tripled in size and she belched her bombastic exclamations to the treetops. “She's like a beautiful clown! I don't mean to say that she comes across as goofy—but she just looks so dazzling! Oh, sure, she can be goofy too—but it's in a way that makes your heart feel warm and toasty and your cheeks sore from giggling so much! And yet she's also mature and experienced and you want to live up to the legacy that she's made and show the world how much she's taught you about making people smile and happy and—eee hee hee hee...!” Pinkie Pie hugged herself and kicked at the blades of grass before the bench, chortling from horizon to horizon. “Ohhhhhhhhhhh—what can I say, Flashie? I'm in love! There's no question to it! She's been an inspiration to me all my life and not a day goes by when I don't dream of somehow showing her how much she's made me appreciate life... comedy... show biz—the works! I'm tellin' ya, pally, she's the cherry atop my sundae!” “Mmmmmmhmmm...” Flash—tired and more than a little bit lethargic—sat on the bench beside her, shoulders hunched as he rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “I don't suppose...” He looked out across the verdant park full of loitering people. “...you've considered asking this woman out?” “Pffft! Only if I wanted to be thrown in jail for necrophilia, silly!” “... … ...” Flash turned to squint at the party planner. “What?” Pinkie Pie punched his shoulder playfully and stuck a tongue out. “Lucille Ball's been dead for thirty years! Also, she was married twice!” She shook her head. “Pinkamena is many things! But she's certainly not a gravedigging lecher! Nosireebobdoley!” “Ah. I see.” “Heehee! Stilllll...” Pinkie Pie tapped her smiling chin and scanned the heavens with eager eyes. “If somebody smart—somebody whose name rhymes with Highlight Gargle—were to clone Lucille Ball in a test tube... … ...and throw in just a pinch of Betty Crocker's DNA to boot...” “I don't think Betty Crocker was ever actually a real per—” “Then I just might be willing to make a few new matrimonial choices on the ol' Pinkie calendar if you catch my bouquet! Hah!” She jabbed him with an elbow. “Get it?! Cuz it's nuptial!” “Heh...” Flash couldn't help but smile. His eyes wandered towards the sound of giggles, and he once again laid eyes on the rest of their friends gathered around Applejack and Rainbow Dash—both of whom were engaged in a highly-spirited kite-flying contest. “Whatever you say, Pinkie.” Rainbow Dash twirled her kite while licking her lips. Fluttershy cooed something—inaudible from such a long distance—but Flash could see her cupping her hands by her cheek with a loving expression. Applejack matched most every move that Rainbow Dash made. Rarity cheered the farm girl on, leaning in to rest a dainty hand on her best friend's well-toned shoulder more than once... or twice or thrice. The fashionista's powder-white cheeks flushed noticeably in the afternoon air. Sunset Shimmer and Twilight Sparkle stood a few feet aside, simply admiring the competition as it carried on and on. They both had tranquil smiles... and their hands were held together. Flash's gaze lingered on the girls' fingers for a bit longer than he expected. He was so absorbed that he scarcely made out Pinkie's words until she repeated them for a third time: “How about you, Flashie?” “Hmmm?” He looked towards her, blinking. “What?” She sat cutely on the bench, swinging her legs up and down against the grass like a child. “A handsome catch like you has gotta be swooning for someone in this life... past, present, or future.” Her eyes sparkled with both mirth and mischief. “Well? Ever gonna spill the beans?” “The beans...?” “It's okay.” A sapphire wink. “You can trust your Auntie Pinkie Pie!” She pointed a finger. “Ah! I know what that expression means! There's a girl in your life, isn't there?” “A girl... in my life...” “Who is it? Hmmm?” Pinkie bounced in place. “Come on! Out with it! Your secret's safe with me! Pinkie promise!” He lingered in place, gazing at her. Then he turned to gaze at the rest of the young women. He observed how the wind kicked at their perfect hair... how the sun shone on their pretty dresses... how the air rang with their collective harmony—a symphony that would never end. His fingers clutched tight to the seat of the bench beneath him, as if he might tip over any second, then everything would be upside down. As if it wasn't already. “There's a girl,” Flash Sentry said, absorbing himself into the distance. “A girl that I have never met. And yet... I've no doubt that I would fall in love with her the moment I saw her.” A deep breath. “Which is precisely why she'll never exist. She's just too perfect. She's everything I want and fear all at once. I would love for you to meet her—all of you—if only so she'd be real to someone. And maybe—just maybe—with her around... everything would make sense. Everything would be as it should be. Even if... even if I can't be there to admire her. I think... I think I would be okay with that. If she was here and I wasn't anymore. It would be just right. Or—at least—it would be way less st-stupid than it's always been. It would be less stupid th-than it is right now...” He was trembling towards the end of this, and a tear fell down his cheek to sanctify the moment. He reached a hand up to rub it away—sniffling. But someone else's hand caught his wrist before he could. Biting his lip, Flash Sentry looked at her. Pinkie Pie simply smiled. “Can't you both be here at the same time?” His eyes darted away like they were dodging a bullet. In a weak voice, he murmured: “I don't think I could even manage, Pinkie—” “Manage what? Love?” She giggled lightly. “You love all of us, don't you, silly?” Her head tilted to the side, entreating. Adoring. “What's one more layer into the mix?” He didn't have a response to that. So he resorted to a tender smile. And—as always—it was good enough. “Come on.” She hopped up and tugged him out of his seat with both hands. “They're having fun. And so should we.” He stumbled after her, a grown man powerless to a bubbly friend's tug. “Sometimes, Pinkie, I'm not sure I can.” “And I'm not sure I can't!” She stuck a tongue out and pulled him anyways. “What say we meet somewhere in the middle, huh?” “Yeah... okay...” “Okie dokie lokie! Heeheehee!” They joined the rest of the girls just as they were starting to take turns. At one point or another, it was Flash's chance to hold the string. He had little control over where the kite went, but after the wind had run its course and the laughter of the group had lifted up and down multiple times, he found that it hardly mattered.
