Close to the Sunn

by Vis-a-Viscera

Rating: teen
Tags: Sprout, Comedy, My Little Pony: A New Generation, Romance, Sunny Starscout, Hitch Trailblazer, Slice of Life
Length: 1994

New generation, new town, new alicorn-magic-fueled mare, same old frenemy-fueled shenanigans quick to (literally) Sprout.

Sunny Starscout being evasive? Sprout now unerringly obedient to her every ask? Izzy Moonbow being... well, Izzy?

Something weird is ahoof, and Sherrif Hitch will investigate.

Pray (for his poor little cherub-like sanity) he never finds out what it is.

This is my2nd place entry for the Quills and Sofas Speedwriting group's G5 Shipping contest. Thanks to AuroraDawn, Snow Quill and BandyBrony for reviewing/pre-reading!

Published 2022-11-16 21:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2022-11-16 21:00:00 UTC

Amending Fences, Again!

Author's Note

Looking for a FIMFic commission from me? Just follow this handy link.

Amending Fences, Again!

“Look, I just want to be absolutely sure, Sunny-”

“-like I said before, I’m fine-”

“And I know you need all the hooves you can get, even now-”

“-...good point, but you’ve already-”

“-Especially since the last time I was here, I mean, it didn’t end well for your house… or the town… or .”

“Wow.”

Hitch stopped mid-explanation, the dusky light around his narrowed eyes matching the shine of his badge. “Huh?”

But neither badge nor bronze eyes could match the mischievous twinkle in Sunny Starscout’s as she circled him for once in their conversation. “Izzy predicted it, but those are the exact same words Sprout said when he showed up.”

The ear-piercing thunk was not the sound of Hitch’s jaw hitting the floor, but it came close when Sunny pointed a hoof at the window. Despite the debris and cracked lumber still showing the scars of the Canterlogic bot rampage, the lighthouse had never looked livelier; mostly because of Sprout trying to secure the windowsill by bucking in the nails.

It was work that stopped the second he made eye contact with Hitch.

“Oh, flo-uh, sheriff, great job checking up!” His words came out in rivers almost as broad as the streams of sweat running down his flanks. “N-naturally... I mean, it’s only fair I assist here, it’s just my responsibility after - I swear, it was Mom who though-well, okay, I did pilot the bot, but-”

“Hitch, please talk before he trips on his tongue,” Sunny chuckled.

Hitch cleared his throat after several tense seconds. Amusing as the newfound stutter of the Emperor-turned-traffic officer of Maretime Bay was, he needed answers. “Sprout. Settle down. The real reason you’re here now, stat.”

“Oh that’s simple!” came Izzy Moonbow’s chirp, making Hitch shudder a little. Not from intimidation, of course not! Izzy couldn’t hurt a flyder, she was probably as slight as one! And a bit prettier… and a bit radiant with that spring in her step… and betrayingly strong with those saddlebags full of scrap wood jostling at her sides…

By the time Hitch had quieted the butterflies in his stomach - and stared down Sunny right after - Izzy had nearly completed the story. “... and then Sprout said that you appointed him to help the recovery here, after this terrible fight - to be fair, you do seem like you’re over it, points to you there! - and well... here we are!”

Hitch, after another few seconds, deciding that making Izzy repeat herself would be an imposition. “O…okay. He’s here to fix what he broke. Fine.” Back to Sunny his eyes went, hoping Izzy would take the message and head back to work so he could focus. Yes, she did! She… okay, she certainly did.

“Yes, Sheriff, that is a blue heart on Izzy’s flank, no, making a wish on it’s not worth staring at it that long,” Sunny’s words sent Hitch staggering on his own hooves. “Also, eww.”

Hitch was almost the same shade as Sprout now, trying to shake the red out of his cheeks. “Y-you never mind about that, Sunny! Sprout and I had no such spat, in fact we haven’t talked in a week, and if he’s up to something again, I want to be sure it’s stopped befo-”

But Sunny’s lifted hoof stopped Hitch cold. “Look, Sheriff. I know you want to show you’re on top of things, and I appreciate it. But… you relax. I’m more than capable of handling myself. Chill.”

Even a whole head shorter than him, the annoyance and authority radiated off her like the sun. Hitch started wondering if the tales about those star-moving Princess were true; Sunny was certainly showing a similarly strong side of her as of late.

Well, that and the wings and horn, but that was a while back.

Hopefully.

Hitch still heard whispers from behind tin-hat brims, few as they were in the Bay now.

“Well… carry on then, Sunny.” And Sunny was back to work, until Hitch’s voice. “I’d swear, the way you carry on I’d think you had a secret of your own too.”

Sunny stopped, almost tripping herself on the pitted floor. Her shoulders were hunched, and Hitch stepped forward, worried that she might have sprained something.

And then he saw the ghost of a watery grin from Sunny’s downcast face, and Hitch understood. “T-thanks, Hitch,” she whispered. “I… I should go.”

The flick of Sunny’s tail disappeared around the arch of the steps before Hitch could collect himself to ask if he could help around the house.

Shooting one last dry look at Sprout - who again, winced as if the sheriff had actually shot him - Hitch finally left, his hoof-falls feeling a half-ton heavier than when he’d come into the lighthouse.

Another thing Hitch had wanted to ask the day previous, and had forgotten in the hubbub (and Izzy’s attempts to distract him, clearly!) was why Sprout would lie to put more work upon himself. Obsessive as he was, monomaniacal as he’d shown himself to be, it wasn’t like him to come up with an excuse to do a task so mundane.

Of course, it could be guilt. Heck, Hitch was barely there for the fighter they had with him, and his heart felt like a jackhammer in his chest.

“Hitch! Don’t bend the nails there, it’ll be too tight a loop to thread a spider’s silk through!”

Or it could be because of the pony a table across from him. Hitch’s eye tortuously drifted over to his necklace of metallic junk, a shambles compared to… well, the marvel jangling between Izzy’s hooves. “S-sorry, Izzy,” he got out. “Seems I’ve got my limits in this craft.”

“It’s okay, Hitch. I can get those sharp ends out, and then we’ve got the perfect charms for Sunny’s door!” Izzy’s horn lit up - one day, Hitch swore, he’d be accustomed enough to that to not stare - and lifted both chains onto them.

Before she could leave, Hitch finally collected his thoughts enough to ask the needed question.

“Izzy, how do you see Sprout coming here?”

Back came that bushy grin of Izzy’s. “With my eyes, silly! Heh!”

Hitch sighed hard enough to make his chest pang with pain. Walked into that one, he did. “No, I mean… how much do you trust his intentions? You know with… what happened, and all.”

“Oh, that,” And for once, Hitch saw the glint in Izzy’s eyes turn steely- this was when Izzy was at her most mysterious. “I mean, I do think that robot he built was nice. Too bad he was a power-mad, conspiratory spat then.”

Hitch blinked. He wasn’t expecting something that level, that… mature, from Izzy. “Wait… then?”

“Yeah! Right now, though, he’s always been a breath of fresh air!” Izzy said. “Apparently he’s reaaaaaally chatty when he’s fixing stuff. Especially when Sunny’s around!”

Hitch rolled over that thought in his mind. Perhaps it was guilt, though there was a hint of performativity to it that he supposed would never leave that little tyke. He just wished he could nail down what really was causing it.

“Alright, Sunny, I think I can get up to your room soon, but I draw the line at paying for all those stupid toy-oh nuts gotta go bye!”

Had Hitch not seen the blown-out pupils of Sprout beforehoof, he would have sworn a particularly ruddy tornado had blasted past him. Snorting his mane out his eyes from the rush out, he gave Sunny a level look.

“Was it something I said?”

It took Hitch another week for the pieces to slide into place. Almost constantly, around Izzy, and of course, it came from asking the person at the center of it herself.

A novel approach, indeed.

“Hitch, it’s been six days, and Sprout’s been on his best behavior. I promise you you’ll get nothing from him.” Sunny pleaded again, her hooves crossed on the makeshift cot of hers as Hitch paced endlessly before it. The hypnotic starlight bouncing off him did nothing to help his mood. “At least let’s talk about how the house is doing”

“It’s fine, the foundation’s holding, that we’re not talking in the basement of this place is proof, now can we focus on the Sprout problem please?”

“Seems you’re the only one seeing it as a problem.”

“But that’s just it, Sunny!” hissed Hitch, stopping at the foot of her bed. “I can’t find out what the malfunction is with him this time! He’s completely deferential to you, he tackles these tasks with a strength I didn't think he had, and he finds a way to beat me here to get to work first thing every morning.”

“I’m sorry, is this a problem?” Sunny’s eyebrow cocked up at the frazzled sheriff before her. “Cuz this sounds like something you should be proud to see. S’called rehabilitation in your job, right?”

“I am! That’s the problem!” howled Hitch. “Nopony one-eighties like this without a good reason! And I’m no closer to finding out now than I was a week ago! I’ve watched him work around the house, I’ve tracked his routes out, I haven’t spent three hours watching that skatercolt rollerblade with you at the park!”

Seconds before the last words left his mouth, Hitch winced at the scandalized look he knew was painting over Sunny’s face.

“You forget you heard that, that’s confidential investigation intel.” He cleared his throat faster than he wanted to, teeth gritting at the burning feeling it produced. “Anyways… I’ve got nothing. And if you don’t either then…”

“I didn’t say I didn’t Sunny sniffed. “I’m just electing to keep it to myself, assuming you haven’t bugged my dresser too.”

Hitch made a note to crush those taps when Sunny was asleep tonight.

“Frankly, it’s been a shock that you can focus on Sprout that long with how many goo-goo eyes you make over Izzy. I mean, Hitch...” A slight mischievous edge creepy back into Sunny’s voice at that. “A sheriff that's this easy to distract? How does Maretime Bay stay safe these days?”

“Look, I… I can stay focused, okay? I just want the butterflies out of my stomach first, because every time she gets close, it’s all I can do to keep my composure!” Hitch bellowed. “I don’t know if it’s that new magic you’ve been talking about, or the chores she’s had me go through, or…”

Then Hitch froze, realization bearing upon him like a freight train. “Excuse me for a minute.”

He couldn't leave that bedroom fast enough, his chest heaving hard as he breathed out and in. “No way. No way. I can’t be in love with… No way!”

The second he’d recomposed himself, he opened the door again, ready to at least offer a good excuse to Sunny now. She’d labored through his ranting enough for one night, after all. “Sunny, sorry about that, I should be getting my head straight, what’s the worst Sprout can do no-”

And then Hitfch’s jaw hit the floor for real. Sunny’s did not follow suit - her lips were too busy wrapping around Sprout’s, both ponies hanging half-out of the open window. Of course, Hitch’s clearing throat sent her stumbling in shock.

Now it all made sense: why Sprout was so eager to make amends, why he was so antsy around him, why he actually took off his shift early tonight!

“I’m sorry, Sunny, what did you say before,'' he said, the rest of the puzzle clicking together in his satisfied mind. “‘I promise you you’ll get nothing from him? ‘Cause it seems one of us is.”

Sprout was too purple-faced to respond, his silence now speaking more volumes than Hitch had once thought. At least Sunny was still the conversationalist, despite the sheepish grin on her face.

“Um… surprise?”