I was dumbstruck, utterly convinced both my eyes and ears were fooling me.

Tab A, Tabby, my husband, had just decked our client, a very rich pony who had several hired stallions of intimidating size and strength at his disposal that could and would grind my husband to a pulp with a wave of his manicured hoof.

Tabby had never been confrontational before. He never seemed to get jealous, or go after a pony for anything. In our line of work, we encountered exes and others we’d worked with. They’d all react differently when they saw us. Some would congratulate us, reminiscing about previous gigs and the like. Others were jealous of our marriage, and would try to put a wedge between us with embarrassing stories or obvious flirting, but neither he nor I ever let them bother us. It was just a job, work, and they were in a strange way our co-workers.

He didn’t even have the heart to kick the stray cat off our upper floor balcony, and let her squat there for months before she’d birthed and weaned her kittens and left.

The stallion I’d married was not a normal stallion, and that was why I loved him. He didn’t care for hoofball, loved red wine, and was amazed to learn a claw hammer could also pull out nails as well as drive them in.

I’d known for a while now something was bothering him, and this just confirmed my suspicions. Something was troubling my Tabby, and he’d decked our employer because I hadn’t been doing my part to press him for what was wrong.

How could he stand to be with me, if I couldn’t do the most basic of things that a wife, a mare, should do for her husband?

I quickly realized that all the other ponies in the room were just gawking between Tabby and Mister Prim, their expressions as dumbstruck as mine. Action was required, quickly, before they could react.

“Tabby, let's go,” I whispered, slowly creeping towards him.

My poor husband blinked, looking down to his hoof, confusion clear on his face.

“Tabby, now.”

Again he blinked, and then turned to look at me.

“I… That was—”

He didn’t get to finish, because suddenly Tabby was thrown down to the ground by the large brown stallion, stuck in a headlock and unable to move.

“That, Tab A, was an unfortunate thing for you to have done.”

I looked over to Mister Prim, who was waving off the assistance of his helpers, choosing to stand on his own. A small trickle of blood ran down his jaw, and a nice sized welt was forming on his lower lip.

He floated over a linen cloth, dabbling at the blood on his lip, his face a frown as he studied his own blood. “Yes, quite unfortunate,” he repeated, then looked to me.

“Mister Prim, I’m—"

He held up a hoof, silencing me.

“I… have put up with a lot of crazy antics from ponies in my time. They’ve tried to trick me, gryphons have tried to kill me, and my last two ex-husbands have tried to rob me. I no longer have any patience for the likes of them, nor you two.

“Get out. Now.”

“But—"

“I will not pay you for this session. I will, however, give you the benefit of the doubt; you've been good workers to me over the last three years. I will not call the guard, or the police, but I never want to see your faces in my work place again.” He tossed the bloodied cloth casually to his side, where a pony scrambled to collect it. “Do you understand?”

I was struck speechless—all I could do was nod. Our best paying client, gone. Because Tabby couldn’t control himself. No. Because I couldn’t get my nerves in check to talk with him about what was bothering him.

“Very well. Release him, and one of you others escort these two out of my studio, out of this building, and on your return grab one of the gopher mares running about. We still have work to do, and this stud is still hard.”

I watched the brown earth pony release Tabby, stepping away as he huffed angrily. His loyalty was quite clear, although his reaction time needed some work. Easing over with gentle steps, I approached Tabby, helping him up to his hooves right as two of the other work stallions began pushing us out.

Throughout all of this, Tabby was silent, but as we approached the now open wood door, he stopped. Both stallions were quick and took aggressive stances, but all Tabby did was turn his head back.

“Mister Prim, I’m sorry for striking you. That was uncalled for. I do, however, have something to say before we go.”

I was honestly a little scared at this point, because I wasn’t sure what to do, other than to try and nudge him to keep him moving.

“Yes, Tab A, you may speak.”

Tabby fully turned around, the two stallions clearly making sure any direct move towards Mister Prim would be met with resistance. Even the pony guarding the door was standing ahead of where we were going, watching with a tense, yet confused, look.

“We have put up with a lot of your stunts. From nigh-impossible poses without assistance, to obscure fetishes, all done to the best of our abilities, and all done without complaint. But I warned you early on of the one thing we would not do. And you promised me you wouldn’t.”

“Things change, Tab A,” Mister Prim said, his magic coming to life as a piece of paper materialized between us. “You both signed a contract stating that as long as one of you were willing, then nothing is off the table.”

“Yes, because I believed, and still do, in a pony's word; in their promise being what makes them honest. We asked you to promise but one thing, and you broke that promise. That is not something I take lightly. Bee is my wife. We devoted ourselves to each other. We’ve done things that no normal married couple could ever fathom.”

Mister Prim frowned. “You were there, and I have witnesses to her consent to go with the change. That is not going against—"

“Screw the contract—that’s nothing to do with us,” Tabby growled. “You couldn’t even be bothered asking me if I was okay with it.”

Mister Prim huffed. “Is there some point to this, or are you just going to continue galloping around in circles?”

“What I’m trying to say is, you are a selfish, arrogant jackass with a pole stuck up his ass that only cares for money, and not the ponies he employs. Contract or no, you, sir, can go fuck yourself. We’re leaving, and never looking back.”

Tabby did not give Mister Prim a second look as he—and then we—marched out.

Oh Celestia, I love this stallion so much.

The elevator ride was quite awkward, with poor Dewy confused as to why we were finished so early, and why there were two burly stallions escorting us out. Looking back to him, I noticed he had a strange twinkle to his eyes, as if he understood simply by Tabby’s stony expression.

As the lift hit the ground floor, he wished us luck, and I promised him we’d write and keep in contact, but that we were never coming back here.

We were quite literally shoved out the main entrance. I managed to stay on my hooves, but poor Tabby was sent sprawling face-first on the sidewalk.

“Tabby, are you okay?”

He sat up, rubbing his muzzle. “Yeah, I think so. How about you? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

My response was to lock lips in a passionate kiss. There were a lot of reasons why I loved my husband, and I’d come to the realization I wasn’t giving him, or showing him, that passion like I should have been lately.

Little did he know, I had a surprise for him today. Something he’d been hoping for for a long time, something he’d perhaps already given up hope for.

The reveal was supposed to have happened after our last session for the day, but now we found ourselves with the extra time together, although with far fewer bits than I’d like to have had.

I separated from him, his mouth frozen mid kiss.

“Wow… Bee, you sure you’re okay?”

Nodding my head, I helped him back to his hooves.

“Of course. What you did back there… I’m so proud of you, but so disappointed in myself…” My ears fell. I had to look away from him.

“Bee, honey, I know what you were trying to do, but there couldn’t be a solid enough reason to go through with that.”

I couldn’t look at him. I wanted to tell him, but out here on a busy sidewalk was not where I wanted it to happen.

It was this moment I realized passers-by were giving us odd looks, but I paid them no heed. This was none of their business. I could just ignore them.

Tabby, however, would not. We needed to leave here, go someplace else. I needed to come up with a diversion.

“Hey, now that we got this extra time…” I started, looking hopeful.

He looked to me, brow raised.

“Well, we’ve wanted to have a day to ourselves, right? We’ve been wanting to for years, but never could plan it out?”

His brow was still cocked, and he looked at me as if I’d gone insane.

“Bee, honey, we still have one more appointment today. In…” He looked to a turret clock. “Three hours.”

“So?”

“So?” he repeated back, a hint of distress in his voice.

“Yeah, so what? I’m sure if we sent a telegram to Acrylic, she’d understand.”

Tabby continued to gape at me for several seconds, so I placed my hoof under his chin and closed his mouth with a click of his teeth. Brought back to reality, he shook his head. “We can’t just cancel out of the blue. We schedule these appointments weeks in advance. She’s been expecting us for a month now.”

I just shrugged. “We tell her something came up.”

Tabby sighed.

“Bee, look, we’ve just lost our best paying client. We need to make sure we don’t lose another.”

“Do you think she’d drop us for one simple cancellation?” I rolled my eyes, starting to walk away.

Tabby was quick to follow on my right, his hooves clopping against the sidewalk with force.

“I don’t know, you don’t know. She could be understanding, or flip on us like Mister Prim!”

“Technically, you decked him first, so I can kinda see his reasoning.”

Tabby stopped walking. I did also, turning to look back at him.

“Oh wow, I really did punch him, didn’t I?” He looked down to his hoof.

I approached, nuzzling first his raised hoof, then his muzzle. “You did.”

“I’ve never… I didn’t…” he swallowed, eyes getting a watery, misty look, but no visible tears were coming out. “He… he had it coming, Bee.”

I didn’t move, leaving our cheeks pressed alongside each other.

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

Slowly, he pulled away from me to begin walking again. I could still see the hurt in his eyes. Confused, mostly, as the previous weeks' troubles had bled over until he couldn’t take it anymore. He had been hesitant with me, and distant after our fight. The make up sex had helped, and we’d been on the climb to recovery; this morning’s shower gymnastics had been a wonderful change from previous days.

I shouldn’t have done what I did at Mister Prim’s, but I had a reason; I just hoped it was a good enough reason.

Maybe he needs to know, now.

“Are you coming?” He turned around, looking at me beckoningly, although not in the seductive way I enjoyed.

I nodded, and as I approached, something became blatantly clear. I’d noticed some ponies’ strange looks in our direction, but I’d paid them no mind. I probably should have.

“Oh, for Celestia’s sake, Tabby!” I hissed.

His eyes widened in confusion, ear cocked in my direction as I rushed to his backside.

I quickly grabbed the line holding his tail to his leg and bit it off. “You’ve been flagging your tail since we got out! No wonder we were getting weird looks!”

He wagged his now freed tail. “Oh, huh.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t even notice it!”

“I… had other things on my mind.”

I sighed, and rubbed up against his side.

“Besides, not like I could wink at any ponies.”

I slapped his shoulder. “Tabby!”

“What?” he asked, and I could finally see the faint trace of a smile. “I’m not a mare, and I have more self control than most stallions could claim.”

He wasn't wrong; the accidental drop could, and would, happen from time to time, although it was rare for Tabby. Usually other stallions were relaxed, and adopted the trend of wearing clothes in order to help keep some modesty. When our heat cycles hit us mares, we often did the same in order to let stallions know that if the tail was raised but the goods covered, we weren’t interested.

I didn’t have to, cause I had much better control over my tail. I also tended to avoid going out on the bad days, or I took my medicine. My medicine, of course, was Tabby.

Ponyville, however popular it had become in recent years, was not very trendy, so clothes were almost a taboo. The small village also had one thing that cities lacked in an abundance: hard working farm stallions, who’d forgo their modesty to focus on the task. Blood pumping, sweat dripping down their bodies; it was only disrespectful when the curious, winking mares let their hungry eyes linger for too long.

Although, Mayor Mare would usually see an increase in wedding gigs shortly after the season.

Other than the garments sold at Carousel Boutique, it wasn’t uncommon for everypony to normally go completely bare. We had grown used to it, although it took a little bit of time to become accustomed. We’d been used to clothes, hats, fast paced carriages, all of it blending together in the chaos that was a city.

Ponyville changed that.

I dropped the torn string into a trash can along the sidewalk, and we continued walking.

We had a little time to kill before our appointment with Acrylic, and I was able to distract Tabby from his dark mood with the gym equipment at the Sire’s and Roebuck along Fifth Avenue. While he was distracted I took the chance and made my way down to the lobby to make a call using their telephone.

It was strange, using a telephone again. When we’d moved to Ponyville, the lack of such a commodity was at first annoying, but we eventually grew accustomed to using the telegraph system to set up our appointments and mail-order household goods.

“Yes, hello operator. I’d like to be connected with MAnehattan eight-two-two-two-nine.”

“Yes ma’am, please hold.”

I tapped my hoof as I waited for the call to be connected. With any luck, Acrylic will not have begun setting up yet, so at least when I cancel our appointment today she won’t be too terribly upset with us.

The phone clicked, and a voice came through the receiver.

“Hallo?”

“Hi, Acrylic, this is Slot B.”

“Oh, hi there girl! Are you in Manehattan? Oh, of course you are, this is a local call. Are you and Tabs on your way yet? It’s early—did you finish with Mister Prim already?”

“Uh, actually, about that…”

I proceeded to tell her a shortened version of what transpired at Mister Prim’s. I was amazed at how silent Acrylic was for the whole thing, but I couldn’t help but notice the mare at the customer service counter was trying not to eavesdrop. Both of her ears betrayed her curiosity: they were locked in my direction, with only an occasional flicker away. I could only imagine how juicy this one sided conversation was, but I didn’t let that bother me—I had to take care of this.

Tabby needed this, even if he thought otherwise.

“Wow. Bee, that’s... “

“Yeah, I know. So I wanted to ask if—"

“Girl, you take that husband of yours out for a play and dinner and show him how much you love him.”

I was silent for a moment.

“Did I lose you?”

“N-no! No, I’m here. I’m just… I thought maybe you’d be mad.”

“Mad? Girl, you decked one of the biggest pain in the flank artists of Manehattan. I’d kiss you if Tabs was into sharing.”

I couldn’t help but snort. The service mare raised a brow at me.

“I got some other things I can do. How about we postpone our appointment, and you two enjoy the rest of your day. Unless, you’ve got others scheduled?”

“No, you were the last one, so we could catch the early train home.”

“Ah, so you already saw Sketchy then. How is he? I hope he doesn’t still resent me turning down his advances.”

“Oh, no he’s—"

“Ma’am?” the service mare whispered to me. “I’m sorry, but customers are only allowed a few minutes, and you’re well beyond that.”

“Oh, shoot. Acrylic, I’m sorry, I gotta go. We will keep in touch.”

“Alright, take care of yourself Bee. And that stallion of yours. I know he doesn’t have the biggest balls, but it takes some good ones to do what he did.”

“Yeah… I know,” I said, smiling.

“Ma’am? Please?”

“Right, sorry. Acrylic, I have to go now.”

“Alright, I’ll be seeing you girl. Take care.”

“OH! Wait, also, real quick… thank you.”

I could practically hear her smile on the other end.

“Anytime, girl, you know me. Ciao!”

I heard her end hang up, and I hung mine too, passing the phone back.

“Thank you. Sorry I took so long.”

The mare smiled at me and nodded her movements automatically. I couldn’t help but notice the fading blush on the mare’s face as she struggled to keep eye contact with me. Poor mare, she must have gotten an earful.

“I understand. Thankfully my manager didn't wander by.”

I gave a polite bow, then raced back up the stairs to the workout section. Tabby looked like he was barely interested in testing out a bench press. When he saw me rushing back, he quirked a brow.

“What was that about?”

“Oh, I needed to use the little filly’s room, then I went ahead and called Acrylic to let her know we’d be heading out soon.”

“Oh, alright. That’s a good idea. We should—"

I placed a hoof over his lips to silence him.

“Actually, she said she needed to reschedule.”

Again, his brow quirked. “She did?”

I nodded.

“Oh. That’s…” he trailed off, looking around.

“Fortunate is the word I’d use.”

He looked back to me. “Yeah, oddly so.”

I gave him a wide, toothy grin.

Squinting at me, he finally let out a sigh and stepped off the bench.

“Okay, fine, so now we head home?”

It was always easy to know where his mind went at these times of lull. I, however, had other ideas. “Actually… I’ve been thinking—"

“Bee…”

I raised a hoof to my chest, mouth open in mock shock. “I just thought we could entertain the idea of maybe… going out?”

He blinked at me, holding my gaze. I wasn’t sure what was rattling around in that head of his. I expected him to resist, to say he was too tired and mentally exhausted and that he wanted to just go home and listen to the radio.

It was normal for him to have a struggle of this sort. He was always thinking about us, and wanted to do what felt right. He was the stallion, I the mare. He led, and I followed. Sometimes, however, we needed to reverse those roles or we’d spiral into a mindset that neither of us enjoyed playing for some artists.

What finally quirked my own brows, however, was his growing smile. “You know what, that sounds like a grand idea.”

It was my turn to look gobsmacked.

“Uh, I— wha?”

“Well, you said it yourself. We have the time now, what with losing Mister Prim and Acrylic canceling on us. Our train tickets are for later this evening. We could… go out! We haven’t had a nice dinner in ages.”

It was apparently clear, by his grin and hungry eyes, this was something he’d been thinking about for a while.

“Really?” I asked.

He stepped away from the weight bench, walking over to me to rub his side along mine, neck wrapping around my withers. “Of course. I’ve… not been showing it enough, but we need some us time. For better or worse, this was all a blessing in disguise, and we need to jump on the opportunity given.”

I couldn't help but genuinely smile at this, nuzzling his shoulder as he rubbed his neck along the back of my head.

“I love you.”

“And I love you.”

We stood like that for several minutes. Not talking, not moving, perfectly content to just hold each other. The middle of the gym section of a Sire’s and Roebuck was a strange place to have a moment, but I could care less.

The same service mare was there when we walked down, and Tabby asked to use the telephone. She cocked an eyebrow and gave me a curious look, but pushed the instrument and a telephone directory towards Tabby.

Getting last-minute dinner reservations turned out to be a chore, but by the third call he’d managed to find a small Calabrese place just a few blocks from the train station that had a cancelation. It was convenient, so if dinner went longer, we could enjoy the time and not feel as rushed to gallop for the train.

Until then, we had several hours to kill.

Still at the Sires and Roebuck, Tabby got distracted in the appliance area. It was mostly crowded with eager mares looking to spend their significant other’s hard-earned bits on the next best luxury, but we managed to find a few interesting things to keep in mind. I wasn’t as excitable as Tabby over kitchen appliances, but since he did most of the cooking, I didn’t want to shut down his enthusiasm.

The appliance which distracted him the most was a fancy electrical toaster. Thankfully, our apartment had electricity, and the subscription cost was included in our rent. Still no telephone line, but we had managed to live without one this long.

Our toaster back home simply rested over the stove top, and only browned one side at a time. I didn’t mind flipping the toast, nor did he, but I could see the gleam in his eyes. I mentally stored that info for Hearth’s Warming. Do they monogram toasters?

I could see it now: “To the Best Husband and Stillest Standing Stud.”

Tabby gave me a curious look when I started giggling for no apparent reason, but quickly forgot when I kissed his nose. I could feel other mares glaring at us. Jealous of us, because their husbands or wives didn’t shop with them was my guess, even if we were just window shopping.

We left, and I perused at Barnburger’s Outlet for a short time, but clothing really wasn’t my thing since we’d moved to Ponyville. I had plenty of my own in a dust-filled closet from my time living in Canterlot. Accessories, however, were always nice. I made sure to fawn over a beautiful scarf and earmuff set, so Tabby got the message.

Sometimes stallions needed a little bit of guidance.

We eventually found ourselves walking along Broadway Street, where most of the theaters were located. Ponyville didn’t have a proper theater playhouse, just an auditorium where musicians would play, or on weekends a traveling film crew would bring in a projector and we could watch newsreels and picture shows. It was a nice place to go when we had down time, watching and listening to the many talented performers in Ponyville. It was always a treat when we’d get to see our favorite, Octavia Harmony, perform. She was one for the classics, and almost always ended her performace with a very romantic song. We’d cuddle up together, sipping red wine we’d snuck in, and munching on popcorn.

The most excitement we got was when the school fillies and colts would perform school plays. It was cute… but left me feeling hollow. Like, this was something we should both have been enjoying: watching children perform, grow, and learn. Tabby always had this longing look on his face, looking in the direction of the stage, but more or less staring through the foals.

I guess because none of them were our foals, it wasn’t the same.

Dinner, I told myself. For tonight, simply enjoy the company of the stallion touching my flanks with his, rubbing shoulders, and occasional sweet whispers in each other’s ears.

Our teenager-like glee reminded me of once upon a time, when we’d first met, then started to date. Even right up to our wedding-turned-job as we learned the photographer had a side gig, and knew a guy who was looking for some marriage artwork…

That’s how it went from then on. We worked.

That, hopefully, was going to change. Tabby’s attitude at Mister Prim’s was proof of that fact, and now I had to sell it to him outright. I was hopeful in thinking that so far, I was off to a good start.

I noticed lines for many of the theaters weren’t long, other than a few stray couples debating what shows they wanted to see. None of the titles grabbed my attention; these were all older plays that most Manehattanites had already seen.

“Tabby?”

“Yes, Bee?”

“We should see a play.”

He stopped, as did I. I watched him look up at several of the theater signs, studying them.

“Do we have enough bits for a play and dinner?”

I sat on my rump and reached into my mane, and pulled out my bit purse.

“I think so.” I jingled the purse, feeling the weight and making an estimate. “Yes, yes we do.”

He sat beside me, tapping his chin as he looked from the turret clock to the row of playhouses.

“Alright, what do you want to see?”

Replacing the purse, I glanced over at him, then to the one sign that his eyes had darted to momentarily.

“That one,” I said, pointing, not even bothering to look at the title.

He looked, and nodded with a small smile. We both stood, returning to our place along each other’s side, flanks and shoulders touching as we entered.

The Lake House sounded like it would be a nice show.

I was still rubbing the dried tears from my eyes as we left; Tabby carried a small box of tissues in his teeth.

“That was… so beautiful.”

Tabby nodded, not smiling, but not frowning either. I hadn’t started openly bawling like he had, but the play had still left an impact on me.

I couldn’t pass up a moment like this. “Do you think there are any lake houses in Ponyville?”

He froze mid stride, eyes wide, almost dropping the tissue box. I took it in my hooves, trading it for a small kiss on his tear-streaked cheek.

We quickly composed ourselves, and I gave the half-full tissue box to the ticket colt. I knew somepony else could use it. He thanked us, and we left.

It was only a few more blocks to the restaurant: we’d have our romantic dinner and then a train ride home. I wasn’t sure about Tabby, but I was getting tired. This day had gone from ordinary to bizarre, and was now shifting romantic. I couldn’t help but think a day like the one we’d had might one day becoming a script, ending up on a play here on Broadway.

Wouldn’t that be a thing?

Our walking had slowed down, and commuters were passing us as they returned home after a long work day. The public clocks told us it was past five thirty, and our dinner reservation was for six. We should make it in plenty of time. Nothing to worry about.

“I’m sorry Madam, Sir, but we had to cancel your reservation.”

Those were not the words I wanted to hear. “Cancel our reservation? But… why?” .

“Originally, we had a cancelation, so we were able to squeeze you in. At the last minute, they phoned ahead and wished to reinstate their reservation. They paid in advance, so I’m sure you can understand.”

I did, and that’s what bothered me. Back in Ponyville, if this had happened at The Paisley Peacock they would just grab some chairs and set us up outside, so we could still eat. Here in Manehattan, there wasn’t really anywhere to set anypony up other than an alley or the busy sidewalk, but who wanted to have a romantic dinner there?

Tabby let out a sigh, and turned around. “Come on, let’s go Bee.”

I frowned at the waiter. Before we were out the doors, I turned my head around and stuck my tongue out at him. His face was priceless.

When we were back on the sidewalk, Tabby let out another sigh and looked at me.

“Well, should we try to catch the next train instead?”

Tired and drained from the day’s excitement, I was about to say yes when something across the street caught my eye.

Nestled between two larger buildings was a small two-story abode converted to a restaurant, a small neon sign advertising it as Mozzerella's Pizzeria.

I knew we could still have our romantic dinner—its salvation was just across the street.

“How does pizza sound?”

He cocked a brow in my direction, then glanced across the street.

“Oh. That... sure.” He looked at the unassuming brick building, an almost defeated sigh escaping him.

He began walking away from me, towards the crosswalk.

“Hey, Tabby.”

He stopped, looking to me.

“You up for a little more excitement?”

“What?”

I grabbed his mane in my teeth and dragged him onto the street before he could resist.

“Bee! What are you—"

There were no police ponies around, and hardly any wagon or carriage traffic on the street, so why not add a little jaywalking to today’s excitement?

Thankfully, Tabby caught on quickly to what we were doing, and darted with me from lane to lane, avoiding the few carts that passed us. I was whooping and laughing, turning to watch Tabby as he darted around a taxi. Amazingly, not one puller pony yelled at us, although I swore some were rolling their eyes at our antics.

We made it to the other side, where a couple of well dressed stallions eyed us up and down, shaking their heads at our child like giggling and lack of mannerisms. Quickly they brushed us off like we weren’t worth the bother and marched away.

“That was fun!” I panted.

“That was nuts!” Tabby agreed, although his voice betrayed his worried expression with mirth.

I ignored his guilty glances around, no doubt wondering if there was a police pony in eyeshot, as we marched into the half empty pizza place. Right away, by the smells coming from inside, I knew I’d love this place. When I caught Tabby looking at the large wine menu on a chalkboard, I knew he’d love it too.

A young mare approached us, her peach-colored coat clean and brushed; her dark red mane and tail done up in buns.

“Hello! Would you like a table or a booth?” she asked us, a pleasant smile on her face.

I looked to Tabby, and he quirked his brow. I could practically read his mind, reminding me that this was my idea, go ahead.

“Booth, please,” I said.

“Alright! Follow me, please.”

She led us to one of the few booths that lined a single wall. It placed us near the kitchen doors, and I wasn’t sure if I was thankful for being this close, or upset that we’d have to wait on our own order with these smells teasing our empty barrels.

Well, mostly empty, but the time still wasn’t right to tell him.

The young mare placed a single card on the table and I watched Tabby take a seat on the side facing the kitchen doors. I could tell they were both expecting me to take the opposite side so I could face him.

They thought wrong, and I knew this by their surprised expressions when I scooted right in beside my husband, rubbing his shoulder with my muzzle.

Tabby let out a contented sigh, and the waitress a little titter.

“Welcome, and thank you for coming to Mozzarella's Pizzeria. I’m Spicy Sauce, but you can just call me Red—everypony else does. I’ll be your waitress. What would you like to drink?”

I couldn’t help but giggle; the idea of this poor young mare being called either Spicy or Saucy was too much of a cruel joke, and I think she knew this all too well by how she implored us to just call her Red.

“I think we’d like to start with a couple glasses of water, please. We’ll pick a wine when we decide what we’d like on our pizza," Tabby said.

Red nodded, and took off before I could say a word.

“You sound like you already know,” I said, nudging his shoulder with my own.

“I have some ideas,” he said, looking over the small card of specials, “but I figured you’d like to hear some options.”

“Hm… I’m craving… peppers.”

“Alright.”

“And onions.”

“Oh, do continue.”

“Mushrooms.”

“Yes, of course, can’t go without those.”

“Olives.”

“Black or green?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Black it is. Alright, that sounds like their normal veggie pizza.”

“Mmm… I can feel my mouth watering already.”

“Red or white?”

I knew what he was asking.

“I’m feeling adventurous today… let's go with a white.”

“The scandal! My wife, wanting a white wine over a red?” he exclaimed in mock horror.

“You already know what I had in mind, don’t you?”

He just nodded, as Red returned to us with two glasses of water... with cubed ice!

I’d forgotten the little things I’ve missed going from a big city to rural farm town.

“Do you two know what you’d like?” Red asked us.

I nodded, but allowed Tabby to order for us.

“Veggie pizza, with plenty of mushrooms. Eight inch—"

“Make it twelve.”

He nodded. “Twelve inch, and we’ll take a chilled bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.”

“Ooooh, very nice pairing. You know your wines.”

Tabby grinned, a message from one wine connoisseur to another.

“And I just love pizza,” I added.

That got a snort from Tabby.

“Well I hope you really love ours. My mama and papa make it fresh, like from the old country.”

“You’re from Calabrese?” I asked.

She shook her head. “My grandpapa and mama were. When my mama married papa, he took to it well, blending in his attention for great wines. Once they realized their connection to pizza and wine, they couldn’t be pulled apart. Then I was born.”

Tabby and I nodded our heads.

“I will be right back with that Blanc.”

And off she went, opening those kitchen doors, allowing the amazing smell to hit us in the face.

I felt a limb wrap around me, and Tabby pulled me in for a tight one-armed hug as he placed his chin on my head.

“This is nice.”

I hummed in agreement, closing my eyes as I melted into him.

Our wine came quickly, but we forewent a toast in favor of me remaining wrapped up in his embrace as we gently sipped our wine. This would be my only glass. I had to pay close attention to these things now.

There were ponies at tables, eating and chatting, enjoying their company and their food. It was what I’d expect in a small establishment like this. Seated at our booth, we felt like we were in our own separate world, only coming back to reality as Red noticed Tabby’s glass was low and refilled it from our chilled bottle. I was taking my time, fully enjoying little sips at my wine, and Tabby was so distracted by our embrace he didn’t notice.

This was what I’d wanted our dinner to be. Slow, romantic, with a little fun mixed in like we were teenagers again. I was glad those other ponies had recalled their reservation.

Hopefully, they were having as good of a time there as we were here.

Our pizza arrived after twenty minutes. For that whole time, we didn’t talk, just shared contact with one another. I couldn’t help but draw in the parallels to our line of work: there, we stood, lay, or sat still in intimate poses, but always found conversation once we were allowed to talk.

This was almost the same thing. Bodily contact, sitting still… just without talking.

Did we really need to talk though? Or was the simple idea of company enough? We’d snuggle on the couch, under a blanket and listen to our radio programs. I always loved Fibbie McGee and Molly, while Tabby enjoyed his guilty pleasure of The New Adventures of Sherclop Pones.

We were usually silent then too. My occasional laugh would break the quiet. Or his remarks about new clues—the narrator often focused on them—and his guesses at the solution. Tabby was right more often than not, and I sometimes wondered if his deliberate way of thinking could have made him a great detective. He always looked so serious listening to the show, trying to tease out meaning. His ears stayed intently on the radio, and he had a cute little scrunch in his muzzle when he was really focused.. In a way, I guess, the company was as entertaining as the shows themselves.

Eventually, I’d had my fill of a little more than half the pizza. Tabby was usually a lightweight when he ate, but I was able to convince him to have that last slice. I knew I could tackle it, but I also remembered I’d stolen his blueberry muffin this morning.

Plates empty, serving tray bare save for a couple of stuck globs of cheese that I’d snag before Red could take it away, and our bottle of wine long ago finished, I felt bubbly, full, and happy.

”You barely touched the wine, are you feeling alright?”

I nodded. “Yeah, just… tired, didn’t want to have too much.”

He hummed, content with my answer.

There was truth to that, but something else far more important, critical, that I couldn’t indulge myself in alcohol now, or for the next coming months.

“I love you.”

His words grabbed my attention. We’d been telling each other that all evening, but for some odd reason, it felt different now.

It was time.

“Tabby.”

“Yes?”

“Remember… I told you there was a reason for what happened at Mister Prim’s?”

His chin pulled away from the top of my head, his foreleg around me slackening. I took this as my cue and pulled away, so we could face each other while we talked.

“I was really hoping we’d put that behind us by now…” he said, ears down.

“I know, but… I figured, just this one time, I could handle it, so we’d have those extra bits.”

He blinked, looking at me confused. “But, what for? Why do we need them?”

This was it. This was the time, the moment.

“I’m sorry, Tabby, for not asking you.”

“Asking what?”

I gulped.

“I knew you’ve been in a bit of a… sour mood lately.”

He shook his head. “No I haven’t.”

I placed a hoof on his shoulder. His ears went flat—for all his deliberate thinking, he wore his emotions like an ugly sweater.

“Since that talk we had, at dinner for our anniversary.”

This time his eyes looked down at the table, and I couldn’t help but feel my heart ache.

It would be worth it, though.

I sucked in a deep breath, then let it out. “I’m sorry I shut you down, but at the time… I think—I thought—that there wouldn’t be a good time in our lives, with our jobs, to have foals.”

“Bee, please stop.”

I shook my head. “No, Tabby, you have to listen.”

“Why do you want to ruin this beautiful evening we’re having? I was a wreck after Prim’s, and then you canceled with Acrylic—"

“I didn’t—”

He snorted. “Oh don’t play coy with me, Bee. I know you. You called her, and canceled our appointment, didn’t you?”

I opened my mouth to retort, and closed it just as quickly. What could I say?

“I thought so. Bee, what’s come over you? What… is it something I did? Something I said?”

“What? No!” I was quick to reply.

“Are you…” His ears shift back, and voice goes low. “I’ve been telling you I love you, and you say you love me. But… do you?”

My mouth hung open, shocked at the direction his line of thinking had taken him.

These words hurt.

I’d been doing a terrible job at loving him, hadn’t I?

“I love you, Tabby. I do. This wonderful evening together, you felt it, right?”

“Yeah, I did, and I followed along because this felt right. But, at Mister Prim’s, why would you—"

“I’m pregnant.” I’d said it. Not exactly in the way I’d imagined in my head, but I’d said it.

Tabby completely froze. Mouth half open, ears focused on me. Not even his eyes shifted to kitchen door, which I’d heard abruptly close from where Red was eavesdropping on us.

It felt like hours before he blinked. Then his mouth closed, he swallowed, and worked his jaw. Finally, he looked at me.

“You’re… you what?”

I could feel tears welling in my eyes.

“I’m pregnant, Tabby. You’re going to be a father.”

His eyes darted around, presumably going over everything that had happened today. It was the same intent, slightly confused expression he got when he was solving the mystery on the radio.

He must have finally figured it out, because his eyes grew wide and he grabbed me by the shoulders.

“You’re… you’re pregnant? Like, with a foal?”

“No, with a toaster.” I rolled my eyes. “Yes, with a foal.”

He kissed me. Hard. I hadn’t felt him press in with so much passion in a long time, months or even years ago when our romance was fresh and new. Today’s actions, I’d hoped, still showed that I love him.

His kiss was my answer, and I felt as if a weight had been removed from my chest, my pent-up anxiety flowing away as we kissed.

A sudden racket from the kitchen perked my ears, and Red came out seeming like she was about to burst with happiness and joy. She was holding a small plate with what looked like a little dessert cake on it, and the first thing I could think was that we hadn’t even ordered dessert.

Tabby and I broke our kiss, looking at the mare questioningly.

“What’s this?” Tabby asked.

“It’s a Congratulations Cake! On the house!”

“What?” I asked, “Why?”

“My ears weren’t fooling me when I heard you’re expecting a foal, yes?”

I nodded, too confused to answer.

“Oh, it just makes me so happy when I see others happy! Is this your first? Second?”

I found my mouth suddenly dry, and Tabby cleared his throat.

“This will be… our first.”

Red literally squealed with glee, placing the desert cake down before us, prancing in place.

“I’m just so happy for you two!”

And like a whirlwind tornado, she rushed back to the kitchen at the call of an older mare’s voice.

We sat still another moment, just staring at the cake, completely lost for words. Then Tabby began to giggle, which was infectious, and before long we were both in a fit of child-like glee. We laughed, while Tabby drew me back in for a hug, holding me tight. Once we calmed down, we grabbed our unused forks and dove into the cake.

It was carrot cake, my favorite kind.

We were briefly introduced to both of Red’s parents, who also congratulated us, although they were less enthusiastic than their daughter. We left the Sauces’ business shortly after, leaving behind a generous tip. I realized, after the fact, we didn’t even tell them our names. In a strange way, I didn’t think it mattered to them, but I felt a bit rude to not have introduced ourselves properly.

When we arrived at the train station, we still had about twenty minutes before our departure time, so we sat on a bench under a single electric street light. That was another thing in the city I didn’t like—Ponyville’s street lamps felt romantic, their flames shifting and changing, waiting for the perfect gust of wind or well-timed pegasus dive to blow it out so lovers could share one another in the dark. Electric lights just shined.

It glared down on us, as if it were waiting for the hammer to drop.

“When?”

The first word from Tabby since we left the pizza place. One I’d expected, too.

“After our anniversary. I realized a few days later that my heat had started early, but we’d been so busy I didn’t notice at the time.”

He nodded. There were still more questions. I decided to try and catch a few of them early. I had to make him understand. I knew what was bothering him the most. I knew he didn’t want to discuss it, but felt like I had to explain myself.

“That’s why we need the extra bits. Why I… was willing to go through with what Mister Prim wanted.”

He didn’t reply, so I let out a nervous laugh.

“I knew I wasn’t far enough along for that stallion to hurt me, or the foal. I almost thought the jig was up when Mister Prim mentioned the lump on my belly. Thought that he’d ruin the surprise, and we couldn’t have a moment like… this.”

He was still silent, although his ears were in my direction. I wasn’t comfortable when he gave me the silent treatment. Sure we’d have fights here and there, but we were able to resolve them with calm discussion.

I felt like this was a one-sided discussion, and I was the one doing all the talking, yet losing regardless; his expression was still like stone, and I couldn’t chip away enough to see what he was really feeling. I wanted to believe he understood. Maybe change the topic back to the foal?

“I uh, realized it a couple weeks ago. I was talking with Missus Cake one day, about some weird feelings I’d been having, and she got this look on her face. Took me into the kitchen to tell me. Then I went to Nurse Redheart for an examination, and she agreed. I was… I am, pregnant.”

If he kept up this silent treatment, I was going to bite him.

“I know you’ve… I know what you’ve wanted, and I felt horrible for telling you no. I thought our work was more important, that we had to make hay when the sun shined, as Applejack always says. That night, we’d drank a little more than we should have, and we’d fought over what we thought mattered most, work or family. I still remember, after the shouting, you brooding on the couch, the radio on to distract you, when I came out of the bedroom, just so angry I jumped you and we got passionate, and it just felt so good and right that…”

I swallowed around a lump in my throat and shifted on the bench. I just wished he’d say something.

“...but then, when I discovered I was pregnant, and realized what was happening to us… I wasn’t scared, or worried. It was like a weight was lifted off my shoulders, like Princess Cadance herself was giving me a sign. This was the time, our time, to be more than a couple. To be a family.

“We’re going to be a family, Tabby. The one thing you’ve wanted for so long, and I think I’m finally ready for it, too.”

Again, silence dragged on, and it was getting on my nerves. I was lining up to bite his shoulder when he finally spoke.

“Are you sure?”

I blinked in confusion, pulling my muzzle away from his shoulder.

“Of course I’m sure.”

He looked to me, the floodgates of tears ready to burst. He wanted this so badly, he had for so long, but I knew something was keeping him reserved.

“Bee, our work…”

That was the one thing that hung me up for so long. That was my worry and concern, while he had always been the one assuring me that we’d find a way through it.

It almost made me want to go in for a bite again… almost.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about it for the last couple weeks.”

“If that’s the case, then why did we go ahead and schedule more jobs? You realize we’re gonna have to start cancelling several months from now. And that’s not saying anything about our clients who don’t want a pregnant mare in the art.”

Honestly, that took me by surprise, and I inched away from him.

“How could you think that?” I asked, tears now coming to my eyes.

I could tell he realized he’d said the wrong thing— his ears dropped and his eyes looked everywhere but to me. He was mulling over how to fix this, I knew this look, like when he’d get the wrong thing from the market and couldn’t decide if he should admit his mistake or hope I didn’t notice.

“Because… I love you, and I don’t want us to have to struggle.”

“We have bits saved.”

“Yeah, but enough to take care of a foal?” He ran a hoof down his face. “And our apartment. It’s so small… too small. We’d need to—" he paused, then his eyes grew wide. “That realtor card.”

I’d been caught, finally.

I’d gotten sloppy with my evening routines, and had left the card out last night when going over our appointment book. I knew we’d have to start telling clients, and start canceling, or blocking out months at a time and I was trying to figure out who and when; what artists wouldn’t care or would still work with us in more limited positions.

“I was looking at some houses, when I’d run errands.”

“Bee, we can’t afford it, not if you can’t work and we’ll have to buy things for the foal, and—"

“Mayor Mare offered me a part-time job.”

He fell silent again for a few moments.

“She… you what?”

I hated the idea of another job, of not working with Tabby, but I knew in the back of my mind that one day would come when we couldn’t do it anymore. We’d have to find other work, and I knew a desk job wasn’t outside of my abilities.

“I saw a part-time desk job on the town hall bulletin board, and talked with Mayor Mare. She said I could have it once I was ready. After I… told you.”

He looked at me, confusion still in his eyes.

“I figure, talking with Missus Cake about when she was expecting, we have maybe another couple months we could work, providing as you said, ponies don’t mind my growing tummy. Then we’d have to stop, or at least, I would.”

This time I saw his eyes widen in surprise, and he was quick to shake his head, determination in his voice as he spoke.

“We agreed, Bee. If one of us stops, we both do.”

The answer I expected, and reinforced my love to him, his loyalty to me, and… just everything about him.

I did, however, have my own reservation to this, as trivial as it seemed.

“I know, but I’m not sure what… else you’d do.”

He turned away for a moment, but I swore his ears perked up as a thought struck him.

“I could go back to my old job in Canterlot.”

I blinked. “Your… old job?”

Looking at me, he nodded, the faint trace of a smile showing. “Yeah, when I was an older colt, I used to model for statues. Then when I hit the proper age, I switched over to the adult industry, because ponies marveled at how still I could stand for hours on end.”

There was more to it that he wasn’t telling me, be it shyness or modesty I wasn’t totally sure.

“Do you think they’d take you back?” I asked, looking to him hopeful.

He didn’t even need to think on this, nodding his head with confidence and a smile.

“I’m sure Mister Stone would, considering the situation. He always told me he’d have a spot for me if I ever needed the work. Of course, he laughed at that, ‘cause he knew—like I did—the art work would keep me busy and pay more.”

That was a fact. I was a Canterlot model for my first couple years before I hit the proper age, and could move up to the more adult arts.

For the first time since sitting down on the bench, he wasn’t all frowns. The slight trace of a smile was on his muzzle. This was good, he needed to hear that his—that our fears would be put to rest. We’d make it work, we had to.

Sex may sell, but love was an investment.

I leaned towards my husband, stopping barely an inch from contacting him. He responded by leaning into me, and we finally connected. I let out a sigh of content, allowing myself to relax and go limp against him.

We watched some ponies boarding the train, slowly filling up the half-empty cars. I hadn’t even noticed the train when it rolled in, I was so lost in our talk. I vaguely remembered there being an ordinance about over use of the steam whistle when in the city, but could we have really missed one or two at a distance?

“This… could work,” he said.

“It will work,” I assured him, my right ear flicking against his neck.

“We’d be taking a serious cut in pay.”

“Mmm hmm. We have enough saved to get us by for the dry times.”

Tabby seemed to be content with that, resting the side of his head against the top of mine.

“Hmm… so did you find a place you like?”

“Huh?” I blinked.

“A house. Did you find one you like?”

“Oh! A few. I talked with the realtor, I forget her name, about a few possible places. They’re all modest homes, but they have a front and back yard.”

It was actually more than a few, but he didn’t need to know I’d been traveling to other towns. Not that he would ever consider moving; he loved Ponyville too much. I did as well, but I also enjoyed seeing the different architectural designs in nearby towns. Touring other homes, seeing how other ponies lived.

“Oooh, that would be nice. I’ve never had a yard, you know?”

I simply nodded; I’d had the same lack of experience. It was always city apartments, condos, or even the basement of an employer. It would be nice to have a small garden, stretch my rusty earth pony magic. Celestia knows I don’t use it enough, and having a couple fern plants in the apartment isn’t the same.

“Hmm. We’d need to put forward a down payment,” he said, shifting so his chin once again rested on my head.

“Of the few I liked, she said she guaranteed none of them were that expensive, and they’re all being sold by local ponies, so they’d work with us.”

Mister Rich was a businesspony first, but he had lots of respect for the workers of Ponyville, and that included us.

He also still owed us a favor for posing for a portrait of him and his gold digging wife, but Tabby could learn who the prospective owners were later.

“Hrm. Well, I guess we’re not gonna be able to go on our vacation like we wanted.”

I felt my ears go low. “Yeah.”

In truth, that was one thing that saddened me about this pregnancy. I’d always wanted to travel, visit places like Calabrese, or Prance.

“Maybe after the foal is born? Get somepony to foalsit for a few days while we go out somewhere.”

“We’d need a foal sitter before too long regardless, when we return to work.”

“Or if.” I felt him shrug.

“If?” I asked.

“Well, we knew this day would come one way or another. Eventually, we’d be shriveled up old ponies whose bodies hold no physical attraction for anypony.”

“Oh, come off it now.” I nudged him with a hoof.

“Then after the foal, you’re gonna be all flabby like—"

“F-flabby!?”

“And I’m gonna get stress marks all over my face like my father.”

I bit his shoulder, although gently enough that he ignored it. “Are you calling me fat before the foal is even born?”

We separated, and I glared at him. Yet, he returned my look with a gentle smile.

“Bee…” he said, softly.

I turned my face away from him, folding my forelegs against my chest.

Suddenly, I felt a hoof touch my barrel. My stomach, where that small buldge had started to form.

“Bee... you’re going to be a mommy.”

I blinked, and slowly my frown shifted upward, turning back to look at him.

Tears were running down his cheeks.

“And I’m going to be a daddy.” His voice was shaky, lips shaking like he was about to bawl.

I started leaning towards him. He leaned towards me.

“We are going to be a family,” I said, and we kissed.

His eyes focused on me, and then closed as we melted into each other’s embrace. We held still for a good couple of minutes, locked in our kiss, until we finally heard the train whistle impatiently. The conductor was rounding up the last stragglers for the nine o’clock to Ponyville, which included us.

As unassuming a couple as we were, the conductor knew us well, and knew where we were bound. He could have waved his lantern and sent the train on its way—the platform was clear—but he waited until we broke our kiss. I got off the bench and started to walk across the platform, towards the waiting train coach.

“Come on, Tabby. Let's go home.”

He wiped his face with a foreleg, nodded, and stepped off the bench.

We didn’t even bother looking for our specific car or seats; most of the coach was empty save for a few half-asleep ponies.

Much like we were, once seated and comfortable.

Tabby sat against the wall, his head rested against the glass. I leaned against him and he wrapped his foreleg around me just as he’d done at Mozzarella’s. I rubbed along his side and released a contented sigh.

The whole train back, we faced ahead, tails intertwined, watching as the city gave way to plains. Our only interruption was the unicorn conductor taking our tickets from Tabby’s hoof, and after that we were left alone. The only sound breaking up our silent breathing was the soothing click-clack of the train’s wheels on the tracks, and the slow heartbeat of Tabby against my ear.

I wasn’t sure if I saw the twinkling gas lights of Ponyville before I fell asleep against my husband, but that was okay.

Either way we looked at it, we were going home, to a new future.

Author's Note

EDIT: Alright, blog posts for chapter one and chapter two are up! Enjoy!