Bon Bon grumbled to herself as she walked through the dark, empty street. It had been a long day, and Lyra had been in an especially immature mood. She had asked her to do the dishes, and gotten a kitchen full of bubbles instead.
That mare was like a little filly sometimes. She seemed to live in a world where nopony had any responsibilities, where everything just worked out and got taken care of by itself. If Bon Bon had wanted to play mom, they would have adopted a foal by then. And when they did, of course Lyra was going to act like the bits she made giving music lessons were going to help pay for things as much as the shop—the same way she thought that about the house.
And obviously, because dealing with her wife, and planning for foals, and running a business weren't enough work, S.M.I.L.E had come calling. So she got to spend her evening and too much of the night dealing with some monster that apparently didn't need to sleep like a normal creature. Even changelings were more considerate than that.
She used to like the night shifts during her first stint with the agency. She had been a younger mare then, without a day job, without any other relationships to deal with. None of her girlfriends then had gotten serious enough for it to be an issue. Not anymore. She couldn't revel in being the silent protector in the night anymore. Now she was too busy grumbling about how she had to be up in the morning and how little sleep she was going to get. She didn't even want to know what time it was.
She had to get home, she had to clean up whatever mess Lyra had made, she had to get however many minutes of sleep she could, before she had to wake up and make candy for foals who didn't think about anything but playing and sunshine and rainbows. And her wife was one of those foals. Could you blame her for being a little grumpy?
Finally she reached the house. She let herself in and shrugged her gear off next to the door. Putting that away could wait until morning; at least she didn't have to worry about Lyra finding it, so that was something. There was a faint light in the kitchen.
Bon Bon tensed. Nopony should have been up. She approached slowly, one ear swiveled back toward the front door.
A candle at its last inch flickered in the center of the kitchen table. Lyra was slumped on the table, fast asleep. A mug of tea, notebook, quill, and ink lay in front of her. She'd been waiting for her.
Bon Bon relaxed. She meant just to let her raised guard back down, but much more of the tension she'd accumulated came out with her exhale. This was better to come home to than an empty apartment.
She closed the notebook and put the stopper back in the inkwell. When she took the mug to the sink, she was pleasantly surprised to find it had been emptied of dirty dishes. She went back and blew out the candle with the beginnings of a smile. Of course, it did mean she'd have to carry Lyra upstairs. She sighed at that, but, dutifully, carefully pulled Lyra off her chair and draped her across her withers. Then came the slow, burdened walk through their home.
Burdened wasn't the right word. Lyra wasn't a heavy mare. Really, she was just worried about waking her up. The warmth of her wife's body was much more welcome than most other things she could carry. Her ears were filled with the soft sound of Lyra's breathing.
You start to think about the sounds you hear a lot more when you marry a musician. Bon Bon heard: that breathing, her hoofsteps muffled on the carpet, the clock ticking on the mantle in the living room. They were the sounds of home.
It wasn't that she'd been unhappy, back in the old days. She'd had good work and a steady enough string of girlfriends to keep from getting lonely even if things never lasted long. Quiet, domestic moments like this had been far from her mind. Yet, looking back, she could say without hesitation which she preferred. Even though she'd been happy, it was a day to day happiness, happiness in the moment. She was still happy in that moment, but she could also look ahead and see years of happiness in this house with Lyra, years of music and laughter.
It wasn't the first time she'd had to do this, and Celestia knew it wouldn't be the last. There would be times too, when it was Lyra carrying her like this. Of course Lyra had the advantage of using magic for that. Lucky mare.
The bedroom was the tricky part. It was an awkward job pulling the covers back with a sleeping pony on her back, but she managed it. She rolled Lyra off and into their bed and held her breath. But Lyra kept on sleeping through it. A few strands of her mane had fallen over her face. Bon Bon brushed them away and kissed her on the cheek. Somepony had to take care of her.
She smiled. Even fast asleep, Lyra had managed to cheer her up. That took a special pony.
Bon Bon went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash off her makeup. She brushed her mane. Well, the next day might not be fun, but she was going to live. She would probably end up in a bad mood again and Lyra would get on her nerves. It was going to happen again and again, day after day, Bon Bon knew it. She couldn't think of anypony she'd rather spend all those days with than Lyra.
If that was the price she paid to walk back and climb into bed with her very best friend, then it was well worth it.
She snuggled up against Lyra and closed her eyes. Life was good.
