Home is where the Heart Lives
There were many places Fleur would rather be right now.
A morgue. A kindergarten classroom. In a hostage situation.
Well, she was basically in one of those now, considering how much she absolutely dreaded attending endless balls and events and garden soirees.
Where she would much rather be, honestly, is home. Curled up on the couch and nursing a hot-chocolate homemade by her beloved…
"FLEUR! THERE YOU ARE, DAHLIN!"
The over-the-top onomatopoeic voice of Photo Finish bursts through her thoughts.
The eccentric mare doesn't have friends, only acquaintances, but Fleur noticed that their conversations could get surprisingly candid in the quiet moments after photo-shoots.
Regardless, she was a welcome interruption to whatever drivel was being said in Fleur's direction up to that point.
"Miss Finish!"
She replied in kind, if at a lower volume. They embraced and lightly pecked each other's cheeks, a cultural greeting that Photo often did with her closer acquaintances.
"I was wondering if you were going to make an appearance tonight."
Photo chuckled with an accent no one could really place.
"If it is worth it for one to show-up, one can show up fashionably late. Arriving on time is so last-century."
They giggled together and some of the tension left the model's back.
"The better question, dahlin, iz what are you still doing here? Iz this not a Thurzday?"
Fleur's chest panged for a moment, she hated keeping her beloved waiting.
"I gave my word to be here, and I keep my word, Photo. I said I would be in attendance, it's the least I can do for our gracious host."
Photo waves off her reasoning with a flick of her hoof.
"Bah! You are a model, you are to be seen, and you have done so tonight. Go, go! Shoo, away with you. Go home."
"Photo.." She prepared her rebuttal, but did not have the chance to deliver it.
She nearly yelped as she was whirled around, as if mid-dance, and spun to face the newcomer to the conversation.
"Are my guests about to start fighting? Miss Finish, you know I warned you about this." ,chimed the newcomer. The white coat and blue mane would have given him away immediately, if his voice wasn't so instantly recognizable.
"Fancy Pantz! I told you I would notify you if I was going to cause a scene. I RSVP'd. I arrived, it vaz a scene. My obligation was upheld."
Fancy Pants wrapped his leg around Fleur's withers and gave a light familial squeeze.
She leaned into him, posture relaxing further, and tucked her head under his chin.
In another world, she would have married this stallion. They were certainly close enough, even housemates at one point.
She'd admit that, once upon a time, she had a bit of a crush on him. But he sat her down and delivered the truth.
Honestly, she should have seen it sooner. The way his eyes caught on a shapely male flank more than hers did. How much he enjoyed getting Prince Blueblood riled up, red in the face.
Fancy's patented flirting style.
"One day!" He proclaimed one evening after dinner, and on his third glass of wine. "One day I'm going to get him on a date. I shall shower him with compliments and elicit his elusive, nearly extinct, blush. Mark my words!"
He was confident enough he could get the Prince to bend, swinging his door the other way, that he bet Fleur half of his estate that he'd do it before he turned 30.
She was still counting the days, smiling wider at every birthday dinner she attended for him. He was annoyingly undeterred.
Fleur stepped away but gave his shoulder a bump.
"Fancy Pants, the stallion of the hour! To what do we owe the pleasure of earning our host's attention?"
"I am obligated to greet and converse with all of my guests, my dears. Why, Miss Finish just arrived, and you were just leaving."
He gave the model a meaningful look, nodding his head toward the exit.
"Fancy, I gave my word that I would attend and support your newest charity."
"And you've done so marvelously! You arrived, looked gorgeous, and now you can go home to your Belle! Poste haste."
"Fancy.." She tried to resist.
"I told you zo." Intoned Photo, smiling devilishly as her eyes flashed behind her shades.
"Go." They said in unison, as though practiced. It might as well be at this point.
She relented, bidding her friends farewell and making for the exit.
To her ire and embarrassment, they called after her as she left.
"And do try not to run!"
"Yes! Zat dress is expensive!"
"But don't dally!"
"Keep your back straight, stand up tall. You know She enjoys being the smaller one."
She huffed and cursed their names, sending a silent pleading wish to Princess Luna to bless them both with unpleasant dreams tonight.
Goodness, she loved them dearly. But not so dearly as the mare she was going to meet now. The thought of seeing her put a pep in her step as she went down dark Canterlot streets.
That pep became a quick walk, which became a canter. By the time she had traveled a block, she was at a full gallop.
A frenzied few minutes later, she arrived at her own doorstep. Heavenly scents rolled out the windows and from under the door.
She took a moment to compose herself, getting her panting under control and fixing her mane and dress. She was a proper lady, after all, and looking good came with the role.
She took a final deep breath and opened the door, being blasted by the warmth and wondrous smells from inside.
Fleur haphazardly kicked off her shoes and shrugged off the dress, closing the door behind her. Everything was left in a heap beside a bright pink duffle bag, the only thing that wasn't how she left it since this morning.
Crossing into the kitchen, her heart caught in her chest at the sight.
A bouncing, bubbly pink mare was making magic in her kitchen. Her head bumped and hips swayed, humming and moving to a beat only she could hear.
The calendar on the refrigerator displayed the date, circled with pink marker and adorned with small hearts. Every Tuesday, Thursday, and most weekends shared the markings.
They recorded when her marefriend got to come and visit her in Canterlot, or when she took the train to Ponyville.
Her favorite days of the week.
Pots and pans littered the counters and sink, and the table was set with her not-fancy utensils and a three-course-meal for two.
The mare in question was dotted with bits of the dinner. Batter, sauce, and sprinkles mostly.
Fleur was a proper lady, poised and refined.
Pinkie Pie, on the other hoof, was quite the opposite. And Fleur loved it.
She came up behind the pink pony, easily standing over and setting her head on the poofy pink mane.
There was a bit of a height difference, Fleur had the long, graceful legs of a professional model. Pinkie Pie was naturally shorter. If Fleur stood up as straight as she could, she could easily stand completely over the other pony as her belly was flush to the furry pink back.
She breathed in deep, filling her senses with the essence of Pinkie Pie. And a good amount of flour.
"Hiya Flower!" Pinkie sang, arching her neck and back up to be closer to Fleur.
The name came from Pinkie's near inability to pronounce her name correctly. Fleur really didn't mind, she found the pet name endearing.
She fondly remembered her beloved trying her best on one of their first dates…
"Floor Dee List? Flour Des Lee? Flar Deh Lease?" Her face was adorably scrunched in concentration.
Fleur remembered gently booping her on the nose, giggling.
"A Fleur De Lis is a kind of flower, a beautiful one. It's alright if you can't say it right."
"I want to say it right though!" She whined, then perked up as a thought hit her between her fuzzy ears.
"So.. can I call you my beautiful flower instead?" She hazarded to ask, ears reddening along with her cheeks.
The blush matched Fleur's own, and she surprised even herself when she allowed it. The name had stuck ever since.
Back in the present, Fleur could feel bits of batter and food tub onto her immaculate coat, but she couldn't bring herself to care.
She hugged the pink pony, staying close as she finished with their desert for the night.
The moment the last plate was set on the table, she was promptly tackled by the other pony, tangled in pink fur and ferociously nuzzled and peppered with kisses.
The taller mare laughed and clutched the smaller mare, her heart soared. It was made for moments like this.
She had to nearly pry the pink pony off of her. Mentioning the food going cold did the trick, and in a whirl she was up and seated, chair pushed in as if Pinkie was the proper gentlemare.
Fleur appreciated the effort, but Pinkie was still Pinkie so she did a triple back-flip into her own seat across from her.
She clapped and Pinkie bowed and everything was right with the world.
The first part of dinner was spent in companionable silence, Pinkie knew how she liked to get some food in her before solid conversations could start.
When she was a younger model, the pressure to forgo eating to maintain her weight was constant. Even now, years later, Fleur took a few minutes to get comfortable eating before she could really enjoy it.
And when it came to Pinkie's cooking, there was little room for anything but enjoyment.
"How was your day?" She asked, blue eyes shining. "You had an interview, right? And Mr. Pant's party thingy?"
Fleur swallowed her current mouthful, having not mastered the ability to talk and eat at the same time like her marefriend.
"It went rather well, I think. They asked me the same borish questions they all do. About recent shoots, any teaser images I could share, hints at location or style choices. Any information they could glean from me."
Pinkie nodded, showing that she was listening despite the small statue she was making with her utensils and some spares from a kitchen drawer.
She always ate faster, but would wait for Fleur to finish before getting another plate or moving on to the next course.
Fleur didn't mind, she knew Pinkie was listening intently. It was a bump earlier on in their relationship that was long-since resolved. Restless hooves, a need to do things with one's body in order for their mind to focus.
Fleur once joked that Pinkie was like a machine that worked better the faster it was going and the more it was doing. She didn't joke about it again, after seeing the look on her face. Her mouth was laughing, but her eyes showed pain.
Evidently not everypony was so understanding of her quirks.
Fleur continued, "Once they exhausted the modeling questions, the magazine pony asked me something new." Fleur's eyebrows knit together and she frowned slightly. "They asked me about my current relationships."
Pinkie paused, seconds from putting two green peas on the statue for the eyes.
"They asked about Photo, and if we were more than just working together. I gave my normal answer, we're coworkers, and most of our interactions take place at work. We don't see each other besides that and the occasional party or gala."
Pinkie placed the peas, then started to disassemble the structure slowly. Fleur watched intently as she finished what was on her plate.
"Then they asked about Fancy, as they always do, and asked if we'd consider getting back together sometime."
Pinkie nodded, ear flicking.
"I laughed the question off, as I always do. 'We were never an item, though I count him as a dear friend.' I told them."
Fleur getting over her old crush went hand in hand with discovering her own preferences, something she has talked to Pinkie about in depth during the early stages of their relationship.
Fleur didn't know how to court a mare, she'd never even courted a stallion, for that matter!
But Pinkie jumped to attention, almost cutting her off.
"But you don't have to! I'll court you!"
"But Pinkie.. ." She asked, "...you haven't dated a mare before either."
Pinkie nodded her head, curls bouncing jubilantly.
"Yupper! I sure never have either, but I know how I'd like to be dated and I kind of have an idea how you'd like to be dated so I figure…. Well…"
She took a breath, gathering her thoughts.
"I figure it's like a party!"
"A party?"
"Yessireema'am. It's like a party but the friend I'm throwing it for is extra special, and no one else is invited, and there's lots of kissing involved I hope."
Fluer processed this for a few seconds, then broke down in a fit of giggles. She pulled Pinkie down with her and they lay on the carpet haphazardly for a few minutes until she managed to get her mirth under control.
"That is the most Pinkie thing you've ever said to me. Please. Please yes do it. Court me the Pinkie Pie way, I'd like that very much!"
And so she did. And since then it'd been wonderful.
Head swimming back to the present, Fleur continued.
"Then they asked who, then, had caught my eye…"
Pinkie had paused again, but didn't meet her eye. This was… a bit of a touchy subject for them.
On one hand, neither of them wanted to keep this a secret. On the other hand, Fleur was a pony who existed in the spotlight.
Pinkie, while an element of harmony, was a baker in a small forest town.
The unwanted attention of the paparazzi, tabloids, news and magazines, they agreed to keep their relationship under wraps for now until they could figure out the best way to reveal it.
It was far from ideal, and they had a few less than comfortable conversations about it. It was an ever-present elephant in the room.
Whenever they went on dates, they wore funny little disguises, or went to Ponyville. The local populace sure knew how to keep a secret, and seemed to approve of her courting their favorite party planner.
An unsustainable silence stretched on between them.
They both made to speak first.
"It's ok, I understand!"
"I want to go public."
Pinkie's voice caught in her throat, she managed to choke out a single question.
"What?"
Fleur lightly dabbed at her lips with a napkin, gathering the right words and sending a silent prayer to Celestia that she didn't screw this up.
"I want to go public." She repeated. "I am, honestly, tired of hiding it. I'm tired of the disguises. I'm tired of the hushed whispers. I'm tired of the stolen moments."
She reached across the table, taking a quivering pink hoof in her own.
"I.. you make me so happy, Pinkamena. I want to wear your affection like imported silk and show it off. But… I don't want to get you all caught up in my work. I don't want you to be hunted by camera-ponies, or badgering with questions. Sometimes it's a nonstop barrage of questions, barely giving you time to get a single word in. Any word that you manage to say, they'll twist it however they can for a good headline.
Pinkie sat, listening intently and never breaking eye contact.
"So… what do you think?"
She smiled, and, goodness it was a beautiful smile.
"Oh Flower, I would absolutalitally LOVE that! Ever since we started dating, I've wanted to shout it from the rooftops! Rainbow Dash actually had to stop me, once. I buy all the magazines and papers with you in them, and it's so hard to not talk about it with customers or friends."
She squeezed Fleur's hoof reassuringly, taking this much better than she anticipated.
"I appreciate it, but you don't have to worry about me much." She beamed, and Fleur could almost feel her heart hammering out of her chest.
"I love meeting new ponies. I can talk faster than most ponies alive, so answering questions will be a test of their own recognizance. I'm the Manehattan hide-and-seek champion 5 Years running. And I'm friends with an actual princess, so I've been interrogated about that plenty of times."
She gestured with her free hoof, listing off her points.
"If you want to go public, like really really want to show the world that you're dating little old me, I'm all for it."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course, silly! Our love is stronger than this."
They both squeezed each other's hooves again, then continued eating. Fleur's stomach was filled with butterflies, and biscuits.
Said butterflies turned into raging dragons once the full meaning of Pinkie's words registered in her mind.
She calmly stopped eating, looking back up at her marefriend silently.
Pinkie noticed the lapse in activity, pausing herself and meeting her stare curiously.
"Did…" Fleur ventured, words stuck to her tongue, as if her mouth was full of honey.
"...did you just tell me you loved me?"
Pinkie looked as if the question had slapped her brain right out of her head, it rolled around somewhere under the sink probably.
It took a few moments of cognitive dissonance before the moment slapped the pink mare's brain back into her head.
She quickly made to respond, but Fleur was quicker.
"I'm sor-" Pinkie found her mouth halted by an immaculate off-white hoof.
Her blue eyes, filled with worry, flashed up from the hoof to meet Fleurs own. Her mane frazzled and frayed slightly.
But Fleur only smiled, removing her hoof from her marefriend's mouth and instead softly stroking her cheek.
"I love you too."
But she wasn't done.
"And… I told the magazine that I've been dating someone. They asked who, and I told them that I have an amazing marefriend who lives in Ponyville. She makes me laugh and smile and I'm unbelievably happy."
"You told them!?!"
"Yes, dearest, and you should expect them to approach you as well in the next few days. They only have half the story right now, and would like your side too.
So what do you say, are you up for gushing about how much you love me to an eager magazine interviewer?"
Pinkie winked, alight with giddy excitement at the coming opportunity to sing her marefriend's praise to a captive audience.
"Baby, when it comes to you, I could talk the ears off an elephant."
After a quick kiss, they resumed their meal, occasionally stealing a glance at each other and giggling.
Some time later, after the dinner was eaten and dishes done, and after a shower for them both, they retired to the couch by the fireplace, lit with a flick of her horn.
Grandma Pie's wool blanket was draped over the pair as they snuggled, positioned to have the maximum amount of their bodies touching each other.
And it was inargueably the max, Pinkie did the math and had Princess Twilight check it.
While Fancy Pants might one day get the Blueblood Prince wrapped around hoof, Fleur doubted they'd share anything as special as what she had with her beloved.
Falling asleep with her darling little rose, there was no place that Fleur would rather be.
Author's Note
Allo,
Yes this is bug. Yeah I did a writing again, neat huh?
I rolled a pair of dice, dice with NUMEROUS sides, each side a character. Surprisingly, it took three rolls before the pairing was obscure enough for me.
And this pair, there's so much POTENTIAL. I mean, it's no Fiddledust, but it's got something going for it, in my opinion.
Maybe it's just Pinkie, she's too good for all of us.
Anyways, go read the other submissions for this contest HERE.
Like the story? Dislike it? Feel like it's better than Fiddledust? Please let me know in the comments, as they are an author's bread and beetles.
