Fabulosity in Fact

The next three days blur into each other as you help Rarity with her project, assisting her as she rushes non-stop between cutting fabrics, sewing and her finalising by day, and spending quiet nights with her over the planning board by night, discussing what to add to each dress, and how best to wear them.

“Don’t worry, I know a model for every size, style and occasion,” you insist, “You’ll get the right mares for the right dresses.”

“So, about these models…” Rarity asks nonchalantly. You already know what the question is.

“No, I haven’t slept with all of them.” you cut in, “Only some of them. Well, about half. The ones that came on to me first.” When you see her raised eyebrow, you clarify, “I may hit on mares during parties, but when I’m working, it’s just business unless they ask otherwise.”

“Do you see me as just business?” she asks in a neutral tone. You can tell there’s got to be something that she’s hiding behind that. You think long and hard before answering.

“I see you as… a good friend. You offered your help when I needed it, and for that I‘d be happy to do whatever you like.”

“Would you… would you be inclined to…” Rarity struggles to find the right way to word it, her hesitating half-smile betraying her nervousness, “…consider me more than business?”

You suppose that’s your cue.

You calmly trot a few steps closer to her, exercising your prominent, well-practiced celebrity charm to lull her into an amorous state. You can feel her slow, heated breath on your face.

“If you wanted me to,” you reply with a passionate whisper, “it would be my greatest pleasure.”

Before she can protest, you give her a soft, teasing brush of your lips against hers. Almost upon reflex, she kisses back.

The warming touch of her lips lasts for all of thirty seconds. By the end of it, she shudders. Not because she is cold; in fact, it’s the opposite.

“Bedroom,” The first word she gasps once the kiss finally breaks. You can see the primal desire burning behind her sapphire eyes, “Bedroom, now.”

She only has to ask once.

Seconds later, she throws herself onto the comfortable guest bed, and lies down expectantly for you. She doesn’t have to wait for long - you’re already climbing onto the bed yourself clambering over her lean, yet generously curvy figure.

Another kiss on her lips. Her body pushes itself against yours in response, and you can feel her every fevered caress, her every moan vibrating though her body.

“Mhmm… mmm… yes…” she slowly drifts into her own trace of bliss as you lie one kiss after another on her, some on her lips, some on her tender neck, “Yes… y- no. Wait. No! What am I doing? Stop!”

Her hoof pushes you back. On her command, you drop everything.

“What’s wrong, Rarity?”

Her hooves are raised up to her head in uncertainty. She sees the dreaded choice that lies before her, even if you can’t.

“We… we can’t go through with this,” she says in a tone that suggested she was hurting herself on the inside, “No distractions. Last time I got distracted while making dresses in Canterlot, it was a total disaster. Not this time.”

She looks between you, comfortably sitting ready on the bed, and the near-finished dresses, so close to perfection. With a forced grunt of suppressed disappointment, she stomps her hooves and turns back to you.

“First things first.” she says, “We finish the dresses, release the magazine, restore your reputation, then - and only then - we fornicate like sexually ravenous beasts! Deal?”

“Deal,” you say, nodding towards the near-completed dresses, “Now let’s get these out of the way.”

Darn. So close to scoring with her. But you suppose that’s what you should expect; some ponies are drama queens, and it’s better to agree with them than convince them otherwise. Oh well, maybe later.

*******

Darkness falls around Canterlot as the Princesses exchange shifts for another day. The moon starts to rise in the sun’s stead, and the night slowly ushers the last of the daylight away. You and Rarity have made record timing with the creation of these dresses, and they’re nearly complete. Until…

“No!” Rarity cries out in despair, “No, no, no, oh nooo!”

“What is it?” you ask, concerned for her - wait, where did she get that sofa from?

“This is terrible!” she sobs as dramatically as you’ve ever seen, “I was just about to finish the final dress! So close to completion! So close to perfection! And then I run out of the fabric I need! And the gems! The gems were going to be its main feature, but I don’t have them! Nor do I have the fabrics needed to put the finishing touches on it! All of this trouble and it's for naught! Of all the things that could happen, this is the w-!”

“Whoa, whoa,” you try to calm her down before the sinks further into her own melodrama, “We can just buy more, I know a ton of shops that’ll sell that kind of stuff.”

“But... but it’s night!” she protests, “The shops won’t be open, and I need this to be finished before tomorrow!”

“Don’t worry,” you grin, “This is Canterlot - the city doesn’t sleep as much as you’d think. I know a bunch of shops that are still going to be open at this time.”

“R-really?”

“We’ll have to hurry, but yes,” you think back to some stores that might just be open at this hour, “There’s a gem store near the north side of Canterlot, and a fabric shop in the south-west. We can reach them both on time, but only if we split up.”

Rarity takes a deep breath to dispel her nerves, and restore her confidence. “In that case, I’ll get to the gem shop; I know the way to it. You get to the fabric store, get us some scarlet satin - that’s all I need.”

She reaches for her saddlebag. You get yours too.

“We’ll meet in the Canterlot town square after we’ve got what we need - both shops stem from there - and we’ll head back here together.”

Rarity agrees with your plan. By the look in her eyes, you can tell that she might just make it after all. Now, get to it!