Sprout was trying very, very hard to keep his appetite as he drizzled maple syrup over the fresh stack of pancakes that Hitch had just put in front of him.

"I don't want to keep telling you to calm down, so I'll just urge you to get something in your stomach. That'll lessen the queasiness," Hitch told him as he sat down with his own plate of pancakes right next to him, and put a square of butter on top, which immediately began to melt and trickle down the sides.

Sprout heeded the advice and began to cut into the pancakes. Hitch knew that there was little else he could do to help keep Sprout calm before the big reveal to his mom. The sheriff understood why his former deputy was nerve-wracked, and was hoping that he was getting himself worked up over nothing.

And, for whatever reason, Phyllis didn't accept him, well, he would absolutely make good on his promise of letting Sprout move in. Until that moment, he would just have to ride the rapids and come out the other side.

They mostly ate in silence, with Sprout having to almost force himself to swallow most of his bites, and he nearly choked on his last bite when the doorbell rang.

"Deep breaths, buddy. It'll be over quicker than you think. She does have to get to work, after all," Hitch said, trying to reassure him. He got up from his chair, and took his plate to the sink, rinsing it off before heading towards the front door as the doorbell rang a second time.

Sprout took one more deep breath, downed the last of his orange juice, then likewise took his plate, silverware, and glass to the sink. By the time he got out to the living room, His mom was already walking in next to Hitch.

"Well there you are, sugarcube. I hope you've had a good weekend. Hitch tells me you have something to tell me," Phyllis greeted.

"And to say he's a little nervous about it would be something of an understatement," Hitch said, as he went to go sit down on the couch.

Slowly, Sprout followed, and sat next to Hitch, as his mom sat across from them in the recliner in the corner.

"Well, that's why I left a little early, so I could swing by here on the way to work. And whatever it is, Sprout, you don't have to be nervous. You can come to me with anything, sugarcube."

Hitch glanced over at Sprout, hoping that he would be a little relieved at his mother's encouraging words. But if his expression was anything to go by, it wasn't really working.

"Go on, Sprout. I promise you'll feel better once you say it," Hitch told him.

Sprout took a deep breath, then another, as he glanced across the room at his mom, who was gazing at him expectantly.

One more deep breath, and he opened his mouth to speak, no words came out, and his stomach felt unsettled all of a sudden, and he must have looked ill, because his mom's expression changed to one of worry.

"I-I'm really sorry!" Was all Sprout managed to say before bolting off the couch and nearly galloping towards the bathroom.

Hitch resisted the urge to slam his hooves into his face as they heard the faucet turn on down the hall.

"Hitch, is everything alright? He's starting to worry me now," Phyllis asked.

Sprout splashed water on his face, before filling the glass next to the sink full before gulping it down in three swallows, in a desperate attempt to keep his breakfast down.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror, wondering what was wrong with himself, wondering why he couldn't just come out and say it.

He heard the muffled voices down the hall, hearing as Hitch was still undoubtedly try to cover for him after he bolted out of the room, certainly making his mom worry. On that realization, he felt his determination harden, and with one more deep breath, he turned, ran out into the hallway, and his hooves slid on the carpet as he came back into the living room.

"Hitch and I are dating!" He nearly screamed, his eyes wide.

Now Hitch put his face in his hooves.

"Smooth, Sprout," the sheriff replied.

Sprout stood there, chest nearly heaving, and he now felt somewhat empty now that the words that had been stuck inside him all morning had now become dislodged.

Phyllis' expression was one of surprise, and Sprout couldn't figure out if it was due to what he said or the volume at which he said it.

She merely glanced over at Hitch once he had raised his head, and merely raised an eyebrow, to which he nodded, confirming what Sprout had said, then looked back to her son, who had not moved. She looked at him a moment, before getting up, and walked over to him, and immediately pulled him into a hug.

"I'm sorry, Sprout. I'm sorry that you worried so much about telling me something like that. One of my failings as a mother, I suppose," she said. She felt Sprout nearly melt as the tension almost immediately vanished from his body, and he brought his front hooves up to return the embrace as he fought back tears.

"So... So you're okay with this?" Sprout asked.

"Absolutely," Phyllis replied immediately, squeezing him tighter for a moment, before releasing him from the embrace. "Sugarcube, I have absolutely no say in who you choose to love. You don't need my approval for something like this, but if that is what you're looking for, then you have it."

"Really?" Sprout asked, fighting back another torrent of emotions.

"Yes. If he treats you with as much care and respect as he does every other aspect of his life, then you are a lucky stallion indeed, sweetheart," Phyllis answered.

Sprout came forward and threw his legs around his mom again in a tight hug, weeping softly.

"Well, I'm glad that's all that was," Phyllis said, parting from the embrace. "I've got to get to work, and I hope you're feeling better after having told me."

Sprout nodded with a smile as he got himself under control and wiped his eyes.

"Think you can do those dishes for me real quick while I see your mom out, pal? Then you and I can get going on some errands of our own," Hitch asked. Sprout nodded again, and turned to head to the kitchen as Hitch got to his hooves.

"I'm glad he finally got it out," Hitch told Phyllis once he heard the kitchen sink faucet running. "He was petrified of telling you almost all of yesterday and this morning."

"I'm certainly curious as to how this came along, Hitch, but I'm afraid that would be prying, wouldn't it? No doubt it had to do with this 'ageplay' thing he's been exploring, right? After all, it was your idea in the first place, was it not?" Phyllis asked as they walked to the door.

Hitch's eyes widened, and he noticeably blushed as Phyllis stepped out onto the front walk. He decided to not divulge that he had accidentally hypnotized her son and caused him to reveal his years-long crush, and just take the very short fall for him this time.

"What can I say? Except that life is full of surprises. But while I have you here, can I get a big favor? Your moving crew, they have any space in their schedule today?" Hitch asked.

"They do. What can I do for you?" Phyllis asked.

"Move all of Sprout's nursery furniture over here into the spare bedroom, and all of the furniture there into one of Canterlogic's storage units. Drop off the invoice at anytime, I'll pay for rush service," Hitch told her.

"Certainly. I'm guessing you mean to keep this a surprise."

"I do. We'll be gone most of the evening and afternoon."

"Consider it done, Sheriff. And I meant what I said. He really is lucky to have you."

Author's Note

Sprout with his mane down is too cute.