“Where did you get off to?” Franky asked as Steve approached his dorm room.

“I was feeling peckish, so I went to town for tacos,” Steve answered, “also, I don;t remember granting such a level of familiarity to refer to me in such a manner. I’ve become accustomed to having my fellow mages referring to me as ‘Grand Archmage.’ Even members of other houses call me that; even the fucking Matron calls me that. She’s older than me by four years, she is the Academy’s Student Council president, and she doesn’t even have to do so because of her station. So why aren’t being so reverent?”

“Well, I don’t think it’s necessary for my lover,” Franky crones, “and if you would just stop being silly, you would find yourself enjoying my company better.”

“Frankly, War Mage, I don’t see that occurring even in my worst nightmares.,” Steve retorted.

Franky shot back, “You’ll never find a better companion in your life than me.”

“I don’t know about that,” Steve retorted, “I know I found a new friend tonight and I wasn’t even really trying.”

“Oh, you did?” Franky exclaims, “who is he?”

“Bold of you to assume my new friend is male. Her name is Fluttershy,” Steve replied, watching the shocked face Franky made with a wild sort of abandon, “she lives in Canterlot, is an avid animal advocate, knows her way around the city, and I may be seeing her this weekend.”

“Shut. Up.” Franky seethes, “You shut up. You did not meet another girl.”

“I did,” Steve retorted, “she’s really cute, too. I don’t know if her friendship will come to anything, but I’m more than willing to find out. Hell, if all she wants is to be my friend, I won’t complain. It would be nice to have a more rounded group of companions in my life.”

“You- you-!” Franky seethed, but any further ranting she may have pent up was stopped by Steven planting a pointer finger on her lips. The blush that rises to her cheeks because of the more intimate contact is a little upsetting to Steve.

“I’m touching you this way,” Steven explains, “because I’m fighting a deep seeded impulse to punch your light outs, for one, and for two, it’s to get you to shut up. YOU, do not get to dictate my social life or my sex life. YOU, do not get to choose to whom I affiliate with or to whom I feel an attraction for. YOU, are not in any way a candidate for my affections, and I would prefer it if whatever relationship we have here is strictly platonic and professional. You are one of my War Mages; I am the Grand Archmage. You are The Subordinate; I am The Superior. You report to me; I will never report to you. Do I make myself 9,000 percent crystal, fucking, clear?”

Franky squeaks out a yes and Steve removes his finger.

“I’m glad we have this important understanding hashed out. No, if you’ll excuse me, it's been a long ass Sunday, my belly is full of beef and sour cream, my legs are in desperate need of recharging, and I would like to get a shower in before I go to bed. I would suggest you return to your dorm room and prepare for bed yourself. Whatever- foolishness, you have concocted in your mind about you and I? It ends, now.I bid you farewell this evening and goodnight.”

Steve sips into his dorm room, closes the door loudly to break any argument Franky may have biding in her head about the situation, casts a locking charm or fifteen upon his dorm room door, as well a sound suppression enchantment, then heads to his bathroom to get that shower he said he would take. Before he does so, He strips off his pants, to reach at a spot above his left knee. With a twist on the flesh there, the leg below converts from muscle, skin, and bone into a cybernetic prosthesis nearly seventeen generations removed from current prosthesis tech. He does the same with his right leg, though this time, it’s from his mid calf. He uses his wind mage telekinesis to plant both prosthetic legs into a charging cradle near his bed, then uses the same telekinesis to carry into his shower stall. When bathing and dressing for bed are done, Steve casually flops onto his full size mattress. In mere moments, he is asleep.

Expensive cars are not as commonplace in Canterlot as they may be in places like Hollyhoof, Las Pegasus or Manehattan, but they aren’t the sort of transport that is unexpected either. The stretch Escalade that rolls down the Canterlot streets is a little more unusual for the denizens of the city, but not so much that they rubberneck when it passes them by. Granted, the solid silver extended SUV is a sight to see, as is the vanity plates that read “MJESTY.” If one were inclined to imagine so, it could be said that some form of royalty was visiting their fair city. Matron Meghan Ann Williams was nothing like royalty in the traditional sense, but given her carriage and air of command, you would be hard pressed to imagine she wasn’t some Old World crown princess or something.

The Escalade made its way to the shopping district of Canterlot, following all the traffic laws, stopping for pedestrians, and driving at the posted speed limit. Meghan had no illusions that she or her retinue could claim diplomatic immunity should they incur the judgement of the long arm of the law and she was not willing to tempt fate in that way. Even though her retinue has licenses for the concealed carry of firearms, none of them had any on their persons. Their nominal choice of defense, the SIG/Sauer P365, was still present, but they had been racked into a hidden compartment of the SUV’s trunk. If some incident were to incur, they could use their magic and nullify any hostiles, then cast memory altering charms to mitigate any telling of tales. The pistols were there as a backup solution to any trouble.

The Escalade turned off the major artery of town to head into the parking lot of the local mall. While the majority of shopping malls had faltered all over the country, the Canterlot Palace Mall had survived by being highly adaptable to an uncertain economic and social tableau. While it still held some of the surviving staples of American Retail Life, many of the stores and shops now housed here catered to the new niche consumer experience and it was thriving because of it. Meghan thought that was an interesting bit of information, though as to why, she couldn’t properly express.

The SUV eventually made its way into the below ground parking garage of the structure, winding its way into the bowels of the garage until it found a space that was bright, offered numerous defense positions in case of attack and allowed easy egress should The Matron need it. It was parked into a rank with an overhead lamp stationed dead center above. The motor was eventually turned off, and after a few moments, the riders in the vehicle began to disembark.

If anyone had been watching the progression of the passengers of this SUV unload, they would think they had come upon something otherworldly. Every single one of the passengers was a girl, all were in silk kimono though they were also wearing Western footwear (low heeled boots, flats, and the occasional wedge heeled shoe,) and the fanned around a central figure in the kind of precision formation associated with military parade drills. Their eyes, set in fashionable cosmetic product that did not hide their natural features, scanned the level of the parking garage with the practiced discipline of a soldier. It was only after the last passenger exited that the retinue began to move.

Meghan hated that she had to have an escort wherever she went, but she had long since come to terms with this facet of her current status. This is why she had insisted that her security contingent be all women and dress in House Majesty robes, so she easily blended in with the other; an assassin would have trouble telling which was The Matron of Imperial Academy and which was naught but a loyal House Majesty retainer. That is, granted, if they paid attention to just the faces of these girls. Meghan singled herself by wearing a more ornate obi, as well as tabi and zori of the kind ascribed to more traditional Japanese attire. The zori weren’t the most comfortable pairs of footwear she could have worn, but she did have a certain mage’s charm to make them more bearable.

The troupe of girls headed into the mall via an elevator on the parking garage level they were on and rode it up until they arrived at the first floor of the mall. From there, the troupe made their way in a seemingly random pattern, flitting from store to store in a meandering manner. The truth of the matter was, the troupe’s zigzag journey was in response to the desired product that Meghan had need of, a product that the Academy Commissary could procure readily. There also a few items that the Commissary had in small quantities or were of lower quality than what was sold commercially. Like a certain brand of body wash and shampoo/conditioner…

Several hours were spent flitting from shop to shop and by the afternoon, everyone of the retinue was laden with shopping bags. That elusive body wash and shampoo/conditioner were proving difficult to acquire. She was willing to call it quits right now, but she was also getting hungry and that may have played a part in her attitude. She felt a bit to eat from the food court may help in renewing her spirits or at least making her feel less miserable.

“My Matron,” Cecilia Obregon began, “should we break for luncheon? You must be hungry now.”

“I am,” Meghan stated, “sure, let’s get lunch.”

“Agreed,” Cecilia said, “should we leave the mall for sustenance or stick around?”

“Let’s stick around,” Meghan replied, “the food court here may not be the best but I don’t want to tempt fate against lunchtime traffic.”

“Very well, My Matron,” Cecilia said, “is there anything you would like?”

“I think I could get my own meal,” Meghan began before Cecilia interrupted.

“Forgive me, My Matron, I must insist on ensuring your safety,” Cecilia stated, “as such, if you request a meal from any of these establishments, then I, as your daimyo, must acquire it and set a cordon around you as safeguard.”

Meghan acquiesced, "You’re right, you’re right. Okay, if that’s the case, I would like some pizza from Sbaro’s. Two slices, a Coke, some breadsticks or garlic bread, and plenty of parmesan cheese."

“As you desire, Matron,” Cecilia said, then motioned to the rest of the retinue. The troupe moved in unison towards a forlorn table at the edge of the food court’s dining area. Cecilia and Rose Brannigan broke off to get the meals, while the rest aligned themselves in a circle at tables nearby Meghan. From her perspective, Meghan was at the center of a very lonely universe. She may have been around others (or as close to others as can be during the age of COVID,) but she was isolated and sequestered. It really was lonely at the top.

“Hi there!” came a voice from directly to Meghan’s left and she looked, she was assaulted by pink. Pair hair, pink skin, white t-shirt that was almost pink, blue vest and matching skirt and pink, pink, pink, and pink! It took a moment for Meghan to adjust her gaze to the blue eyes and the beaming smile of the girl who just popped up from out of nowhere.

“Um, hi,” Meghan said, “how did you-?”

“I’m Pinkie Pie,” the girl continued, “you’re new here, right? I would soooo remember if I had seen you here in Canterlot before.”

“Uh, yes, well, no, um, maybe?” was all Meghan could mumble out. This Pinkie Pie was really causing her brain to misfire.

“Confused? That’s okay. I find myself confused nine times out of ten,” Pinkie said, “confusion is life’s little way of making sure you’re paying attention!”

“Those- sound like wise words,” Meghan said, “oh, I’m Meghan, by the way.”

“Is it okay if I call you Meg?” Pinkie asked.

“Uh, no, it isn’t,” Meghan answered, “I have an Aunt Meg and- she’s something of the black sheep in our family. I haven't seen her in years because the last time I did, she tried to cleave my ears clean off. She’s uh, not all that well in the head, you see.”

“Oh, I get it!” Pinkie beamed, then whispering, “she’s lost a few of her marbles, huh?”

“I’d substitute ‘a few' and replace it with ‘all,’” Meghan said, “how did I not see you coming? I-”

“PINKIE!”

“OVER HERE, DASHIE!”

Meghan, who was just barely keeping up with the current conversation, (she was definitely a little nonplussed as to how her retinue hadn’t stopped this very effervescent girl from getting so close,) that she almost failed to see a young woman roughly the same height and age as Pinkie Pie, though this girl was a riot of color. Her hair was rainbow streaked, her tank top showed this girl was very athletic, and the blue vest she over atop of that practically flew behind her as she ran, somehow morphing her sky blue skirt around her toned legs. Meghan was never really sure where she fell on the Kinsey Scale, but she was starting to get heart palpitations and a warm feeling of something was traveling up her core. She wasn’t certain as to why.

“Pinkie, why did you- whoa!” The rainbowed girl said as Meghan retinue rose up, forming up into a perfect human wall.

“Pinkie!” the girl called out again, before Meghan decided to intervene.

“It’s okay,” The Matron stated, “let her pass.”

Her retinue gave Meghan questioning looks, but did as their leader told them; the broke apart and the rainbowed girl approached Meghan and Pinkie at the table they had taken up.

“Dang, Pinkie, why did you rush off like that?” The Rainbowed Girl asked.

“I sensed a friendship emergency,” Pinkie answered simply, then turned to Meghan and said, “Meghan, this is my best friend Rainbow Dash! Rainbow Dash, this is Meghan!”

“Uh, hi,” Rainbow Dash said, taking out a hand to shake before pulling back, “right, COVID. Settle for a hand wave?”

“Only if it comes with your number!” Meghan spouted. A powerful blush spread over her face, realizing what she just said.

“Huh?” Rainbow asked, bemused.

“OOooo,” Pinkie groaned, “Methinks Meghan has a thing for rainbows!”

Meghan growled, “PINKIE!”

“Huh, I wouldn’t have thought,” Rainbow mused, “I mean, I get it. I am pretty awesome! You kinda remind me of my friend, Rarity, all posh and trendy… but it looks like you have some boldness in you, too. I still don’t know what’s with these girls here are-”

“My matron!”

Meghan recognized Cecilia’s voice as the amazon retainer and her partner came upon the scene. This encounter could bring about disaster if Meghan didn’t defuse the situation immediately. She called upon her reserves of authority and addressed Cecila.

“It’s alright, Cece,” she calmly explained, “these are some new friends whom I just met. Cecilia, I would like you to meet Pinkie PIe and Rainbow Dash. Girls, this is my best friend, Cecilia.”

“Hey,” Rainbow said, while Pinkie was more- energetic.

“Wow, you are tall!” Pinkie exclaimed, “I bet you have no trouble getting to the top shelves of grocery stores.”

“I- usually do not,” Cecilia answered, “Meghan, I was able to get you some pizza. Would your new friends like anything? I can get-”

“No thanks, we're good,” Pinkie said, sitting across from Meghan with an absolute spread of fast food favorites and drinks to accompany them, “but thanks anyway!”

“You’re- you’re welcome,” Cecilia said, then mouthing to Meghan, How did she do that?

Meghan subtly shook her head, as bemused as Cecilia was at the sudden turn of events.

“Oh, great, hamburgers,” Rainbow said, digging through the spread Pinkie had acquired and digging in, “let’s eat.”

Lunch was a very calming affair.In spite of the glaring dagger Cecilia and Rose gave her, Meghan was delighted to speak with her Canterlot friends, though Pinkie proved a tough cypher to crack. Thankfully, the beautiful Rainbow Dash was able to provide a decent enough color commentary, that if not a proper translation, was at least a point of reference to steer by. The Matron had never laughed so hard in her life; at times, she very nearly did a spit take at Pinkie’s antics or by the explanation Rainbow gave. She would have to see if she could get these girls up the Academy for a day; that would surely shake the drudgery of normal House Majesty operations, to say the least.

“Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho!” Meghan breathed, trying her best to speak between fist of laughter, “what happened next?”

“Then, she pops out of the pile, wailing like banshee and asks, ‘What have you done to my hair?!’” Rainbow completes.

“Maker damn me, that is hilarious!” Meghan guffaws, “ah, oh, that is the most brilliant prank I’ve ever heard! Man, what I would give for you teach me your ways. I could prank the whole damn school like that!”

“Best to start small, Grasshopper,” Pinkie said, mimicking a kung-fu master from a chop-socky film, “you must learn to run before you can learn to walk.”

More laughter, a few tears, but for Meghan it was all worth it. Thirty minutes with these hilarious girls and she can tell they will be the best of friends. All the tension she was holding has washed away, like it never was there to begin with. Again, it was lonely at the top and Meghan was as far removed from the student body due to her status as a Swiss Alps mountain peak was from a base camp. Yet, she had found two girls, two friends, who were willing to meet her halfway and saw her not in light of her position but as a fellow girl, even if she was older than them.

“Meghan,” Cecilia started, “we should best be heading back.”

“Yeah, you’re right Cece,” Meghan began, “even if I didn’t find that bath set, I did get a few things on my list that have been on the back burner, so at least this town venture was a partial success.”

“OOoooo,” Pinkie beamed, “hard to find bath sets? I can help!”

“Really?” Meghan asked.

“Oh, yeah, she can do it,” Rainbow added, “if you’re lost or can’t find something, Pinkie can get you sorted. It’s like- a superpower she has or something.”

“Surely you can’t be serious?” Meghan asked.

“I am serious,” Pinkie said, now wearing a light brown sports coat, hunting cap and blowing bubbles out of plastic pipe, “but my name is not Shirley. It’s Pinkie.”

Bemused, Meghan queried Rainbow Dash, “How-?”

“Don’t know, don’t wanna know,” Rainbow answered, “we’ve all taken it as ‘Pinkie being Pinkie’ and rolled with it.”

“Huh,” Meghan said, “so, if, I were to say I’m looking for the Countess Colocultura Bathtime Fragrances Set, you’d be able to find it?”

“Oh, silly,” Pinkie began, returning to her normal outfit but now digging into the curly mass that was her hair before procuring the very item in question, “all you had to do was ask.”

Meghan’s retinue gasped as the body wash and shampoo/conditioner were drawn from Pinkie’s voluminous mane, for they had searched the mall over every floor from first to fourth and found no sign of it. And yet, here it was, in this strange girl's hair, where such an item could neither reside nor physically be able to spawn from? Was she a mage or some sort that they had yet to discover? Mysteries upon mysteries…

“T-thank you, Pinkie,” Meghan gasped, “what do I owe you?”

“Oh, you’ve already paid in full,” Pinkie stated, matter-of-factly.

“What?”

“Well, my Pinkie Sense detected someone being all mopey, and I never ignore my Pinkie Sense,” the paradoxical, pink party planner explained, “so I went looking for whoever it was that was having a smile upside down. When I saw you, I just knew you needed a friend. And maybe a hug. Seeing you smile and laugh just now, is all the reward I could ever want.”

Meghan stared at Pinkie, then Rainbow Dash, then Pinkie, before finally addressing Rainbow, “Is she serious?”

Rainbow nodded, adding, “eeyup, dead serious. Even if you were to offer her cash on the spot, she wouldn’t take it, except as an insult.”

“I- I don’t know what to say,” Meghan said.

“That’s okay,” Pinkie beamed, “half the times, I don’t know what to say either.”

“Well, thank you, Pinkie,” Meghan said, “your generosity won’t go unappreciated.”

“You’re welcome,” Pinkie smiled.

As the girls all get up to leave, Meghan felt something slip into her hand. She opened her palm, the one not burdened by shopping bags, and saw a piece of paper with a hastily written phone number. When Megahn looked up, she saw Rainbow Dash give her a wink and mouth, Call me!

Today was a good day.

Author's Note

♪Meghan and Rainbow, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!♫