Heat Season

“Welcome to McDerpy’s! May I take your... oh, heya Anon!” the wall-eyed mare said brightly, craning her neck to look up at him.

“Hey, Derpy,” he said blandly and placed a number of bits on the counter. “Can I get my usual?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Coming right up!”

Only a few ponies occupied the dozen or so mismatched tables in the modest establishment, most having gone back to their jobs after the lunch rush. Anonymous took a seat upon the largest one. He rather liked the place. It was cozy, welcoming and unpretentious—an apt mirror of its owner—foregoing the use of chairs for cushions large enough for a pony to comfortably lie belly-down.

Even then Anonymous had a decent view of the kitchen; clean but cluttered and well cared for. He watched as Derpy cheerfully went about her task, wryly noting the way her blonde mane spilled out of her paper hat—a retro-looking piece, white in color with red trim—negating the supposed attempt at food safety practices.

After setting up the blender, Derpy scooped a generous portion of vanilla ice cream, a splash of milk (both locally sourced from Sweet Apple Acres, naturally), a helping of chocolate syrup, then added the final component—a chocolate chocolate-chip muffin; luscious, decadent, with a tender crumb, likely baked fresh that same morning and nearly as big as her head—and promptly crammed it down the blender before hitting frappé.

“Here you go! An extra-large chocolate McMuffin shake,” she said, balancing the shake (topped with a straw, whipped cream and a cherry) atop a tray; held together by two metal arms hooked round her neck.

Anonymous reached out for it with a muttered thanks and Derpy went back to attend more customers. The shake was simple but delicious. Creamy, and of impeccable quality. While he very much at times missed the modern conveniences of supermarkets, there was something to be said for a local food web. The flavors were far more vibrant; fresher.

It helped that the ponies’ advancements in food preservation were marginal at best, having not yet incorporated hard science, chemicals and synthetic preservatives in the process. It meant that all towns and cities—save for the major centers like Canterlot and Manehatten—largely grew and sourced their food from within their own backyard.

Yet even the delicious treat did not fully register with Anonymous. His mind was elsewhere, his eyes glassy, replaying the events that took place not an hour earlier. Already he could feel his face grow warm and his heartbeat quicken from the mere memory of Rarity’s mouth on his dick, and the utterly foreign but incredible sensation of her magic upon it.

Which led to the question; what now? While he could easily allow himself to fall for the classy mare, it was also prudent to remember things worked differently here. A prelude to sex could be just that: sex. Not that he’d balk at the opportunity for a purely physical relationship with her either.

Assuming of course, she still even wanted to. The memory of their brief encounter could very well be sullied by the association of Sweetie Belle and her untimely arrival. Hell, it certainly soured his mood, abruptly bringing him back to the present, and somewhat worried about laws in this world regarding minors and if he might get in trouble for unwittingly flashing his dick to the little filly.

Then again, pony jail might well be a breeze. They were such a friendly, forgiving species with little to no notions of cruelty that he couldn’t imagine a jail sentence being anything more than a slightly inconvenient, albeit boring vacation. That is, if he doesn’t draw the short stick and get sent to Tartarus.

I really should brush up on pony law...

He was jerked out of his musings by the poke of a hoof upon his shoulder, meeting Derpy’s wall-eyed stare.

“Y-yeah?”

She hesitated. “Are you okay? You look kinda, uh, zoned?”

“Zoned out?”

Derpy perked up. “Ooh, yeah. That sounds right! So... are you?”

“Yeah, yeah... just, you know, thinking.”

“Hard?”

“W-what?”

“Were you thinking really hard?” she clarified. “My head sometimes hurts when I think a lot.”

Anonymous smiled. He couldn’t not like this mare. “Yes, Derpy, I was thinking a bit too hard.”

“You should be careful,” she warned. Her muzzle scrunched up with distaste. “You’ll need medicine if it hurts for too long.”

“What’s wrong with medicine?”

“It tastes gross!” she said, sticking out her tongue. “I used to bake my medicine into my muffins. I could barely even taste it! But Dr. Horse got really mad at me when he found out.”

Anonymous chuckled. He reached out and scratched behind her ear. Derpy smiled, closing her eyes, humming in contentment. Her tail swished excitedly.

“I’m sure he was just worried about you.”

“Yeah, that's what Rainbow Dash said. B-but he didn’t have to be so mean about it!”

“Well, it’s not easy being a doctor. He, uh, has to think. Really hard. Every day.”

Derpy gawped. “E-every day?”

Anon nodded gravely. “For hours.”

“That’s horrible!”

“Yeah. So you can see why he might be a bit crabby when his patients don’t take their medicine properly.”

Derpy’s ears drooped. “Oh. Well... well now I feel bad.”

“Why?”

She blushed. “I called him...” She looked around to check no one was nearby and leaned in. “Dr. Meanie. In my head. Um, a lot.”

Anonymous bit his lip in a bid to stifle a bout of laughter. “I’m sure he won’t take offense,” he said dryly. “But if you feel that bad about it, you could always give him a gift.”

“A gift. Like... like food?”

“Sure, if you want. Maybe one of your famous muffins or shakes.”

Derpy smiled brightly, her wings ruffling. “Oh, that’s a great idea! He always gets the same thing—raisin bran with skim milk. An-and not the regular ice cream either. He likes the weird one without the cream, and the sugar that’s not sugar, and the free lactose.”

“Lactose-free?”

She nodded eagerly. “That’s the one.”

At that moment chimed the bell atop the door, signaling the arrival of new customers.

“Uh-oh, I better get back to work before I get in trouble!”

“Derpy, you’re the boss here.”

“O-oh, right,” she said bashfully, rubbing the back of her head. “Heheh, force of habit. Anyway, I should still go. Those shakes and muffins aren’t gonna serve themselves!” She made to turn, but hesitated. Instead, Derpy leaned in and lightly nuzzled her cheek to his. “Bye, Anon. It was nice talking to you. Next shake is on the house!”

He watched the cheerful mare hurry on over to the counter and begin to take orders, feeling strangely clearheaded. It was nice talking to you. Maybe there was something to that, he mused, sipping the still thick shake, savoring it properly now. Delicious.

He could use a friendly ear to bounce things off of. Lyra and Bon Bon immediately came to mind, but they and Rarity were acquaintances at best. Luckily, he knew another mare. Someone who shared the same circle of friends as Rarity; a good, honest friend with whom he was on good terms with.

Nodding to himself, and with a clear sense of purpose, Anonymous finished off the rest of his shake and stepped out onto another sunny day, charting the well-trodden course for Sweet Apple Acres.