Midnight

"You ready?"

"Can't be any worse than the last time, can it?"

I stare at Midnight, unamused by her feeble attempt at wit. I can tell it's more of a negative thought than an actual joke.

Midnight relents with a sigh. "Fine. Sorry."

Tonight is attempt number two at going out to a public place outside of the truck. This time, it's dining in at a local restaurant...

Alright, so it's a step or two above dive bar territory - but the food is pretty good. There are folks that genuinely come here for a meal in addition to the bar patrons.

There is a decent place with Italian food not too far away but - well, that would come off kinda like a stereotypical date, wouldn't it? And that's food just a bit too jazzed up for Midnight's taste.

A date night is not what this is about, and I made sure to explain that to Middie.

Repeatedly.

She might have understood it the second time, but five times doesn't hurt anything, right?

...alright, so I'm also feeling a little nervous.

It's a multitude of things combining together here. There is the whole idea of dining in with a pony - that might come off as a little funny. Really, I should be over that by now, but it remains a nag in the back of my head.

There's also the matter of this being the first public test of what Midnight has been trying to change with her attitude.

And then there's me. And her. Trying to sort of dance around each other.

Or maybe it's just me doing that.

For instance, take the night I came home with that mirror. For whatever reason, Midnight suddenly decided to lay her head on my leg for the rest of the night.

Why? I dunno. I was hesitant to ask.

Other than a minor stupid comment, I mentioned nothing of it, nor did she. The action was not repeated on any ensuing nights.

Was she just sort of... feeling things out? Seeing what being closer together might be like? Did she expect me to do something, like comb or play with her mane?

I wanted to...

Maybe I fucked up. Or it's all in my head.

God damn, it is aggravating.

I want to ask so many questions, but I'm afraid of what that could unleash. Midnight is not as volatile as she once was, but there is no mistaking she's in a vulnerable position while she works through her mannerisms, her emotions - everything.

I care about her. I care more than I can right now. It's a sobering reality, and it's one I need to keep in focus. I promised to keep that shit in check, and I will do so.

Clear of those conflicting thoughts, I find myself already opening one of the doors to the restaurant entrance, holding it for Midnight to step through and join me in the lobby. I peer around the dim interior toward the more warmly lit dining room while waiting for someone to serve us.

Not too busy tonight, which is good. It is a weeknight after all - likely a much different story were it the weekend.

A younger man heads our way from a back corner of the dining room, wearing casual attire.

"Hi..."

No sooner does he greet us that his eyes fall upon Midnight, leaving him momentarily speechless with surprise.

"Hello. Two of us," I speak up, motioning to me and her.

That breaks him from the trance, offering a quick and apologetic smile.

"Right. Sorry about that."

"No offense taken. You aren't the first one to be shellshocked."

Now I'm the one caught by surprise. The calm and quite smooth comment from Midnight forces me to cast a glance at her. While the waiter leans down to grab a pair of menus from the pedestal, Midnight takes notice of my staring.

"What?" she whispers.

I wave my hand and shake my head to dismiss her uneasiness for the time being.

"Alright, follow me," the waiter directs us.

Weaving our way through tables, the waiter leads us toward a booth off to one side of the room. There are a few glances here and there from diners we pass en route, but nothing much more than passing interest.

Yet I do see Midnight tense up, her jaw clenched ever so slightly as she keeps her view pointed straight ahead.

After a quick rundown of specials while me and Midnight get seated, the waiter takes off to tend to another table, leaving us both alone for a moment.

"Was I just supposed to stay quiet?" Midnight is finally able to ask me. She retains the relataive calmness displayed thus far tonight, but I can hear a tinge of uncertainty in her voice.

"No, I was surprised, Middie. Now worries from me - that was good."

"Really?"

I can't help but chuckle slightly at her tone of authentic astonishment in addition to how she suddenly perks up.

"About as good as I've heard from anyone."

"Well, Starla recommended treating someone staring as a compliment, rather than a threat. That's how she sort of got over that initial stress."

"Not a bad idea at all. I suppose having several people gawking at once while walking back here was a bit beyond the scope of that thought, though."

"A little," she admits. "But I said I was going to try, didn't I?"

"And you're doing fine so far. Sounds like Starla talked your ear off with all kinds of helpful things, to be honest with you."

An amused grin crosses Midnight's face. "Well, it was her idea to come along with Teddy. Evidently, she overheard us on the phone a few nights prior. I guess she wanted to help me."

"Really? That's awesome - and makes more sense now. Why didn't you tell me before?"

I only get a shrug in response.

"Can I get you two started on drinks tonight?"

Our waiter appears again, making me painfully aware both of us have yet to view the menu.

"Just a small glass of water," Midnight replies.

"Ah, you got Coke?" I ask.

"Pepsi okay?"

"I can stomach it."

It at least gets some amusement out of the guy. "I do have to mention our ice machine is busted, so we don't have any ice - is that okay?"

"Hey, more soda and less ice sounds good to me.

"I figured - just making sure. Be right back," he says before hurriedly scurrying off.

"What do you recommend?" Midnight asks as her trusty old wire snakes its way out of her necklace chain to pinch the laminated pages of the menu in front of her.

"I dunno. Been a long time since I was here. Hell, I think they had a different name before."

"That's not very reassuring, John."

"Names change just based on owners - doesn't mean much. And I already see what section you're going to be choosing from."

Midnight shoots me a funny look before turning the page to where I currently am on the menu.

As expected, her eyes light up.

"Sirloin, ribeye, and a rack of ribs. Perfect," she says gleefully.

"There is no way you're gonna eat all of that. You'll probably tap out after one steak."

"Then we can take some home."

"Choose one, Middie. We have stuff at home."

She mockingly grumbles something under her breath. Meanwhile our waiter makes his way over with a tray of drinks.

"Here we go, Pepsi and a small water," he announces while placing each respective glass down.

Evidently, he took Midnight's request for a small glass to heart, as the size looks more appropriate for a toddler than anyone else.

"Are you ready to order?"

"Nah, give me a few more minutes, I was running my mouth more than my eyes across the menu."

The waiter nods and shuffles off yet again in the meantime.

Sirloin does sound pretty good - but so do ribs.

Maybe I will wait to see what Middie gets, then suggest a little trade with-

Midnight's abrupt hacking breaks me from planning.

"Hey, you okay?" I ask with worry.

Midnight is grimacing in discomfort as she drops her now half-empty glass of water back on the table. It teeters a bit but stays upright.

"What the fuck are they putting in their water here?" she manages to gasp.

"What?"

"That shit burns!"

I grab the glass from her side of the table and cautiously go to take a sip. But I don't need to sample the contents - just a whiff practically burns my nose hairs.

Strong, strong alcohol.

With Midnight's little outburst, the young man tending to our table rushes back

"Is everything all right?"

"She asked for water, not paint thinner," I chide, holding the glass out for him to sample a whiff

"Oh - ah shit, I must have grabbed the wrong glass!" he exclaims, putting a hand on his forehead in dismay.

"Then what the hell is that?"

"Probably my moonshine!"

The call comes from a burly older man several tables down who holds up his own glass of clear liquid. "Either that or they really water down their drinks here."

Jesus Christ, that dude got a hollow leg, or is he planning to go comatose? I can hardly tolerate the fumes coming off of it without my eyes watering.

"Can you get her an actual water - and maybe some breadsticks or something? I don't know how that's gonna affect her," I tell the waiter, pausing a moment as I watch his face turn from mild concern to confusion.

Oh, right. Probably expecting her to be a bot - and alcohol meant nothing to her. I ought to be thankful he's not viewing me as a complete loon with my current level of distress.

"She's a prototype. Dialing up the realism a bit more on these things, you know?" I whisper to him.

"Oh! Yes, absolutely. I'm really sorry," he replies upon my 'revelation', profusely apologizing a couple more times before darting for the kitchen.

I'm glad that Hail Mary loaded with bullshit worked.

"People actually - ugh, enjoy that stuff?" Midnight asks, still reeling from the stiff drink.

"Sometimes - or just the after-effects," I reply. "Guess you were too thirsty to take note of the smell - I take it you've never had alcohol of any kind, huh?

"Does gasoline count?"

...

"You've drunk gasoline?"

"No, I'm just being a smartass like you would be," she replies with a smirk, grimacing a bit yet again as she clears her throat.

"Well, you're probably gonna feel weird and loopy, considering that was some strong shit and you haven't eaten anything today since breakfast."

"Fantastic."

Our waiter comes back with a larger glass of I would assume has been double-checked to be water, along with a basket of Texas-style garlic bread.

"I am so sorry about that - bread is on the house," he apologizes.

"It was an accident, I get it. Thanks," I say with a sigh, feeling a bit tense now regarding Midnight's well-being.

She'll probably be okay... right?

After mindlessly ordering something following Midnight, I pull out my cellphone and shoot Teddy a text.

He will probably know.

I already have my car keys in hand in anticipation of this being an emergency.

"Midnight, try some of the toast."

"That really doesn't sound appetizing," she says, looking over the golden bread with a healthy bit of skepticism.

"I don't want you completely fucked up - you need something in your stomach now."

"You mean other than fire?"

"Yes."

Middie cautiously snags a piece and takes a nibble, while my eyes stay glued to the phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Just... checking something."

"With a death grip on your phone? Bullshit."

"Fine. I'm asking Teddy if alcohol is something to worry about with you."

"...do you think it is?"

"I don't know."

"What did he say?"

"I'm waiting for an answer."

"...how long will that take?"

I don't know if this is Middie just being a pain in the ass or worried herself, but it is not helping me at the moment.

Thankfully, my phone dings as if on cue.

'She will be fine - may hate herself in the morning though. lol!'

Thank God.

"You're going to be fine. Just possibly suffer a hangover, depending on how your tolerance is."

"I've heard that term, but what is it?"

"Which one?"

"Hangover."

"Basically regret all decisions from the night before, swear off alcohol entirely. Also includes headaches, upset stomach, among other things. Just generally feel like shit."

"So why do people like alcohol?" she asks, mildly dismayed by my description.

"Loosens em up, gets rid of inhibitions, I guess. Forget stress and life troubles," I respond while trying some of the free appetizers.

Pretty good.

Midnight is almost finished with her piece - evidently, she likes it, too.

But I begin to wonder if we should just nix the evening out. In the back of my mind, I worry about what Midnight is like under the influence of alcohol...

What if she's one of those people -

Er...

What if she gets angry and belligerent?

"Midnight, did you want to just go?"

"What? Why?" She almost sounds hurt by my question.

"I guess I'm just a little worried about you. Alcohol makes people do dumb shit, and I don't want there to be a scene or anything like that."

"No, I'll be fine. I don't really feel anything other than... I just kinda feel good, I guess."

Midnight grins with that statement - an expression that is more relaxed and carefree than normal.

There's no mistaking the sign. It begins.

"Alright, just checking. Just uh... well, I guess this will be interesting."

Midnight snags another piece of garlic bread and munches on it. "This is actually pretty good - do we have any crunchy flavored bread at home like this?"

"Can certainly get some - I didn't expect you to actually like it."

"Surprise, I do," she says with a giggle.

I don't even know where to go with a conversation. Just by the unfocused look in her eyes, the moonshine is already starting to kick her hard.

Damn lightweight.

Then again, that stuff would more than likely put me on my ass.

"Sooo..."

I wait a moment as Midnight pauses, apparently in thought as she freezes.

"What's up?"

She shrugs. "I unno. I forgot," she says, her brow creasing as she continues to think.

"That's alright. Shit happens, particularly when you're drunk."

"Do you ever drink?"

"I have once in a while," I admit.

She stares at me - sort of. There's a fog in those eyes coinciding with a slight sway of her whole body.

"Liar."

"What?"

She leans over the table, poking me with a hoof.

"I dunno what it is, but I can - you're lying to me about that, I can tell," she slurs, narrowing her eyes with disapproval.

"Okay, I used to drink a fair amount."

"And then you stopped? Why?"

"Because you started living with me."

"...oh."

Midnight returns back to her side of the booth, blindsided by that answer. "Why though?"

"I don't really know. Sort of didn't trust you at first, then it was the mystery about you, our stupid little discussions - just never felt the need to crack open a bottle, I suppose."

"And you trust me now?"

"Should I not?"

"I unno."

Riiight.

"You're weird when you're drunk."

"You're weird all the time. Ash-hole."

"Well, at least you didn't call me an asshole," I tease her.

"...what did I say?" she asks, dumbfounded.

"Ash-hole."

It takes a second for that to register with her - but she ends up snickering at it.

"That was so stupid. Why is everything so... fuzzy?"

She starts looking around the dining room in awe, her mouth agape.

"Midnight, you're drunk."

"No," she gasps, turning quickly to face me. "This is drunk?"

Out of the corner of my vision, I see our waiter making his way toward us carrying a large tray.

"Food's here," I warn Midnight.

"Oh, that's right! We ordered food!" Midnight cheers, clopping her front hooves together repeatedly in excitement.

Holy shit. She's a glitzy, happy drunk.

I stifle my laughter the best I can while Midnight oohs and aahs as both plates are laid down.

"So... I take it the alcohol has kicked in?" the waiter asks, a mixture of slight amusement and palpable anxiety.

"A little bit."

"Again, I'm really sorry about that. Usually with ice water - well, there's ice. I got complacent."

"I know. Shit happens. Food looks good though, thanks."

"Of course. Let me know if you two need anything. Enjoy!"

"Is this really for me?" Midnight asks as the waiter departs.

"Yep. And that might help with diluting some of that moonshine in you, so dig in."

"That was goood," Midnight sighs with contentment.

Despite my initial fears, the night ended up being a good one - and not just because of the food.

Pleasantly, Midnight is quite docile while under the effects of alcohol - something I hadn't anticipated.

Now, that isn't to say I want to make this a habit or prefer her when she's drunk. It's just been mildly entertaining and has gone better than expected. There were a few times I had to remind her to use an indoor voice - but no one really seemed to mind.

Now, as the two of us leave...

...Midnight isn't walking too well.

"What the fuck, why is the floor swaying?" she whines in the midst of her struggle.

"Midnight, you're drunk."

"Sho? What's that got to do with... whatever I said?"

"You want me to carry you to the truck?" I ask her as she nearly trips over her own legs.

"I'm fan - fine. You worry too much shumtimes." Her wings, normally tucked neatly away on her sides, have flared out just a bit. A feeble attempt to right her poor balance.

A few other patrons look on with mild amusement as the two of us make our way through the restaurant.

"No karaoke tonight?" I hear called out from the bar.

Surprised by the odd question out of the blue, I stop and turn.

A middle-aged woman behind the bar tries to hide a smirk as she passes off a glass to a patron in front of her.

"What's car-hockey?" Midnight asks.

Oh no.

"Well, you come up over here, pick out a song, and the lyrics on this TV screen help you to sing it," the bartender explains, motioning to a small platform by the bar where the TV and microphone are set up.

"...I wanna try."

"Midnight, are you sure?"

"Yesh. I said I need to try to open up and stuff - maybe trying this would be a good shing."

"What's your name?"

"Ma-hidnight," she hiccups back to the woman. "Midnight, sorry."

I don't want to take advantage of her current state. We really should get out of here. But Midnight is already weaving over to that corner.

I pass by the bar before the woman makes her way around to help Midnight get started.

"What are you up to?" I ask her quietly.

That grin she's been trying to hide breaks the surface. "Giving the two of you a push. Trust me, I see and hear a lot about strained relationships - I know one when I see it, and I've seen you two all evening over there off to the side," she muses.

I don't know if that's meant to be a snide joke or what...

"That's not-"

"How does this work?"

Midnight's question distracts me long enough to give the bartender a reprieve, and she seizes the opportunity to circle around the bar and over to where the mare stands.

"Do you know what song you want?" the woman asks as she turns on the machine's screen and begins toggling through menus.

"...no. I don't really know much."

"That's alright, I'm sure I can come up with something for you..."

Dammit, way to misread the situation, lady. Or she's doing this for her own amusement - I don't know. I want to yank Midnight away from this and head home, but she seems genuinely excited...

When her inhibitions and mental blocks based on logic are swept away, she's a lot different. But I'm afraid of this night getting carried away now.

"Oh, this is perfect!" the lady crows, turning away from the screen just enough to flash me a cheeky, mischievous grin. "So when I hit play, this will start playing the music - just the instrumental though. When it's time for the lyrics, they will pop up on this screen, and highlight in time when they should be sung, into this microphone," the woman explains, pointing to each significant piece as she mentions it.

"Wooow."

Midnight looks astounded by the wealth of information delivered to her. Likely on a delay.

At least she seemed to level off during dinner in terms of intoxication.

I never did hear what kind of moonshine it was she had - in particular, the alcohol content. But moonshine hardly ever goes light...

With nothing else to do, I take a seat at the table nearest Midnight's little stage.

Oh boy, this be wonderful if she somehow remembers this excursion. I briefly consider taking a video with my cellphone...

No, I don't have a death wish. I'm already pushing my luck not physically dragging her out of here.

As the bartender leaves Midnight to the whim of the machine, the music starts up.

What did she pick...?

Oh. Oh god.

Midnight's glazed eyes light up at the sound of the intro. "Ahahaha, thish is the song you sing with the radio in the shower!" she says, pointing a hoof at me.

I play stupid while chuckles and giggle fits of laughter filter in from those present who have come to the attention of the impending spectacle.

Alright, the gloves are off now.

I snatch my phone from a pocket and set it up with the salt and pepper shakers on the table and start recording.

Midnight's already starting to sway with the beat. Or maybe the room isn't holding still for her in sync with the music. But her eyes dart to the screen when she notices the words pop up.

"I wasn't jealous before we met..."

Her hoof stomps down with authority on the ensuing line, getting into the song.

She's... actually not doing too bad. Midnight is no Agnetha Fältskog, and there's a bit of slurring here and there, but she's got a nice voice when she gets into it.

Yet I can't help but feel a little warm as a couple of inebriated people at the bar yip upon Midnight reaching the chorus lines for the first time. If that wasn't enough, I note how Midnight ogles me with half-lidded glowing eyes and a small smirk.

Well then.

I readjust my seating position and my shorts while Midnight twirls a bit, readying for the next verses.

How many times did she hear me sing this damn song in the shower?

Midnight waltzes over to me unsteadily with the next verse, then skips back to the screen.

I can't help but wonder...

How much of this is the alcohol, and how much of this is the "caring" part of her that she doesn't understand?

"Unsatisfied, I skip my pride - I beg you deeeeear!"

Again, Midnight stumbles off the stage and sashays over to me.

"Midnight-"

"Don't go wasting your emotion! Lay all your love on meeee!"

The happy, giddy smile on her face tells me she's enjoying every bit of this as she does her best to dance and frolic with a compromised balance.

I glance over to the bar as the instrumental kicks in. The lady at the bar waves to me and Midnight - and offers a sly smile.

Goddammit, miss.

I turn back and find Midnight with her back turned to me just a couple of feet away, swaying with the beat. Her hair and mane bounce lightly with every movement, highlighted by the lights overhead, while her tail swishes back and forth opposite the sway of her flanks...

I swear she's doing this on purpose now...

Again, she hops up on the platform, barely missing the lip with her forehooves.

Her eyes dart to me again as the song lyrics continue, and it's an almost predatory look.

She glances back over to the screen as the music swells.

"Cause everything is new! And everything is you! And all I've learned has overturned! What can I doooo?!"

As she goes to move toward me again for the chorus, her luck runs out. Midnight misses her step and goes sprawling out onto the floor in a half-tumble. Her chin and underside smack the floor with an audible thump upon the hardwood.

The graceless flop onto the floor leaves her eyes unfocused with the shock.

"Midnight!" I shout, rushing over to her side.

"Ow..." she says, dazed as the music carries on without her. "Wha happened?"

"I think it's time to go home, Midnight," I tell her, brushing away a few stray hairs from her face.

"Kay."

She stumbles and slips as she tries to pick herself up - but I've seen quite enough tonight. I reach over the table and grab my phone, then hook my arms under her barrel and lift.

Once again, I find her surprisingly light - or at least lighter than I expected.

With some finagling, I manage to twist her around onto her back and cradle her in my arms as best as I can, given her size.

I barely make note of the laughter, murmurs, and applause as I head toward the door and push it open with my foot.

"I can walk..." Midnight mumbles. She squirms a bit - a token attempt, anyway.

"You already took one nasty spill tonight, I'd rather not repeat that," I offer as a rebuttal. "How are you feeling?"

Her eyes focus on me, finally sweeping away some of the fog that fall had injected into her noggin.

"Okay, I think. Still feel kinda... fuzzy."

"Alcohol fuzzy, or concussion fuzzy?"

"You worry too much," she says with a giggle. "It's still the moonshine."

She glances around the parking lot a bit, before focusing forward. Midnight still has a bit of wit about her or is at least coming to, for the passenger door of the Trailduster opens with the faintest click as I approach.

"So you aren't completely smashed, huh?" I ask her cautiously while elbowing the door the rest of the way open.

"I think... maybe the dancing helped a little bit? Or the fall. I dunno."

I set her up in the seat, making sure she wasn't about to fall before closing the door and circling around to the driver's side.

Climbing in, I find Midnight staring intently at me. Or the best attempt at an intent gaze.

"What?"

"Was this a date?"

"Huh? No, I told you it wasn't."

"Oh yeah."

I crank the engine while Midnight turns to look out her window.

"It was fun, wasn't it?"

"Memorable, I know that much," I remark with a chuckle. "I didn't expect you to be a good singer."

"Really?"

Before we get moving, I look over to Midnight, drawn by the cheeriness and optimism in her response. Her ears have folded back a bit as she bashfully looks up at me from a head-down position.

Jesus, she's adorable...

"Not lying. I thought you did really good."

"It felt right..."

She suddenly looks conflicted.

"What's wrong?" I ask, taken aback by the sudden shift to a more negative tone.

"Starla said something about how I act. Like being around you triggers incest."

...

"You wanna try that one again?"

"Er, insects. No, instincts. Instincts!" she cries as the right word finally tumbles out.

I still don't really know where she's going with this. I'm not sure I want to, since it's drunken rambling.

"Midnight, you're still drunk, whether you want to admit it or not," I state, taking the opportunity to brush aside a few strands of her deep blue and violet hair that has obscured her left eye from me.

"I know. But... maybe she's right. Maybe I don't realize it, but..." She flicks her head a bit, tossing her messed hair back in an instant so I can see her face.

"That song... kinda felt good to sing. It felt right."

As much as my heart begins to race and my mind begins to run through the lyrics and the impact behind the words...

As I said to myself seconds ago, she's not all there right now. This is the alcohol talking.

I already feel like I've taken advantage of her a bit tonight, and feel bad for how her song ended...

Reading into this as anything other than a tipsy mare with a conflicted mind would make me feel like a piece of shit.

"Why don't we go home, sleep this shit off, and see what tomorrow brings, yeah?"

Midnight smiles at my calm response, though you can't help but feel like she's masking a hint of sadness behind it.

"Okay."

With that agreement, I finally set off for home. Midnight sits back in her seat, looking like the head rush and the burst of energy from earlier has been sapped away.

I can't help but quietly chuckle.

"I think we've both had enough excitement tonight."