Midnight

It's rather early the next morning when I initially wake up. On the couch, no less.

With as hard as the alcohol hit her last night, I put Midnight in my bed.

She settled down on the drive home, saying very little as the adrenaline wore off and the intoxication began to make her more fatigued and sluggish. By the time we got home, she was on the precipice of sleep.

Like leaving the restaurant, I carried her inside - and took her straight to bed. I didn't last much longer into the night before I fell asleep.

Now, at six in the morning, my phone dings. Awfully early to be getting messages...

It makes sense once I grab the device and wearily glance at the illuminated screen.

'Memory Full - Video Capture Stopped'

Fuck. I never shut off the recording after Midnight's performance. However, my concern when grabbing the phone was Middie's well-being and getting her home.

Still, I feel like a dumbass.

Straight-up deleting it is not an option - that spectacle was too good to not remain in video format for future viewing pleasures. Hell, I could probably blackmail her with that.

Why I would or for what purpose is up for debate. Regardless, it was cute as fuck.

I'm gonna have to figure out how to cut the video down. While I'm not completely lost when it comes to working with computers, video editing is something I have never touched.

Oh well, maybe after just a few more minutes of sleep, I will look into it...

The next time I open my eyes, sunlight is streaming through the one window that offers a view outside from my living room, behind my head.

Another glance at my phone...

9 AM. Good timing.

Sitting up, I'm pleasantly surprised that I don't have any noticeable aches in my body. The couch is old as hell and really doesn't offer much in terms of support. Maybe it was just luck this time.

But my next thought is to check on Midnight. She's probably still asleep, but just to be sure...

I lazily shuffle across the carpet to my bedroom door. I push it open as quietly as possible, though the aged hinges still creak just a bit.

That sound, even though slight, garners an accompanying quiet groan emanating from the bed. A mass lays under the covers, huddled up and hidden away from the world.

"Midnight?" I quietly call.

Another groan, this one a bit louder as I spy movement.

"Not feeling too good this morning, I'm guessing."

"Death would be a welcome gift," she mumbles in a pained voice. "Where the hell am I, and what time is it?"

"I slept on the couch, you slept in my bed last night," I explain, pushing the door open just enough to slip through and wander over to my ailing friend. "It's nine in the morning - you apparently decided to cocoon yourself under the covers."

"Oh."

"But I wouldn't recommend-"

Before I can complete my sentence, Midnight raises her head and tosses the covers aside with one sharp movement, her eyes already open. Once the light shining in from the window above hits her pupils, she instantly regrets that decision. She lets out a tortured cry as her hooves quickly cover her face and she falls back to the bed.

"I should have spoken a bit faster."

"Why does everything suck this morning?" she whines, her voice muffled from the bed she lays upon as well as her hooves covering her head.

"Hangover. I figured today was going to be rough for you," I console her, reaching over and lightly patting her blanketed back.

She recoils a bit but settles back down. "How long am I going to feel like this? It feels like the worst case of illness I've ever had," she says, pausing a moment. "Or the day after a 'procedure'."

"You're probably gonna feel like hell for a fair bit of today. Sorry, Mid - I think you need to take the day off from work."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Sleep, rest, and hydrate. I think I'll be fine on my own for one day."

"I guess. I do still feel a bit tired..."

"What do you remember from last night?" I ask, curious to hear her side of the expedition.

"Well... I remember going in and having that awful drink," she is quick to recall. "I sorta remember having dinner and talking about... stuff? I don't know. I do remember being told to quiet down a couple of times."

"You got a little loud once or twice - otherwise, you were fine," I reassure her. "I have to say, you're quite the giggly chatterbox when you've had a stiff drink."

"Yeah, the end result is really worth it," she grumbles. "Sounds like you enjoyed me making an idiot of myself."

"No, I enjoyed seeing you enjoy yourself," I clarify. "The idiotic behavior was a boon. Just curious, anything else you remember?"

Midnight is silent, giving me the time to stand up and move to the window, closing the blinds. The room falls into shadows before I sit back down.

"Sun is gone."

Midnight cautiously moves her hooves away from her face, ensuring my words are not a cruel prank before gingerly raising her head. Her face betrays a feeling of utter confusion.

"Did we... dance last night?" she asks hesitantly.

"I didn't, you... sorta did."

"I feel like there's more to it than that."

"Very long story - might be better to explain the whole thing later. But anything after that?"

I shouldn't be pushing on. I don't why I am. I'm well aware it's a selfish reason that I keep asking. But I have to know - does she remember the discussion in the truck?

What she said to me?

As much as I want to be patient about this...

My stomach is in a knot. I need to know. Even though I know it was the alcohol talking.

There's always a chance it was more than that...

"I remember getting in the truck... maybe talking a bit on the way home? It's all kind of a jumbled blurry mess after the meal, John. Why?"

I make sure to keep as stone-cold as possible on the outside, for fear of making Midnight concerned. What she said to me really isn't something she should be worried about.

I know my boundaries. I'll get over it.

"Curiosity. You were pretty smashed, so I'm not surprised that your memory just ends there - thank goodness you didn't down that whole glass. Half a glass fucked you up more than enough."

"Don't remind me, asshat."

She lays her head back down on the mattress and closes her eyes.

"Sorry. You know I really didn't mean for that to happen."

"You didn't do anything wrong, John. It was that stupid fucking waiter."

"I know - but still, doesn't mean I can't feel bad for the wicked hangover you're fighting, right?"

"I suppose - thanks."

I give her another light pat before getting up.

"Anything you want before I go downstairs and open up shop? Some water, possibly something light to eat?"

"Ugh, I don't think my guts can handle anything other than water."

"I'll fill a big thermos or something with cold water and set it on the table there."

I head out into the kitchen, fumbling through the cupboards for the largest drinking vessel I possess. I come up with the mentioned crappy old thermos fairly quickly, and after a generous amount of ice, I fill the rest with water and bring it back to Midnight.

"Get some rest. If you need anything, just give me a holler, okay?"

"Your bedside manners are a lot better than mine were when you were ill," she comments quietly. Almost sounding a bit guilty.

"Eh, you've learned a lot since then. No worries."

With that, I ease my way back out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Time to officially start my day - without my copilot. So odd to think that way when I consider how things started out. We have both come a long way. The business has come a long way.

And yet I still yearn for more. I can't lie to myself about it.

Last night was magical - but it wasn't real. And I'm glad I didn't seize the moment and take advantage of the situation, especially since she doesn't remember shit.

I did the right thing. But to hear what she said last night, how it felt right to say those things and then have no clue the next day...

It's like being told I've reached the summit of a mountain, only for the clouds to clear and show I've only come to an outcropping at the base of the peak.

All I can do is push on as friends - which is still good. Just not what I had hoped. At some point, I'm going to have to show Midnight the video of her dancing and singing, though.

She deserves to know I took that.

Oh, it will be glorious. And perhaps result in a missing finger or two.

Worth it.

Alright, so maybe I am stupid - at least when it comes to doing anything with computers. That weakness is rearing its ugly head today as I try to figure out how to trim down the video from last night.

Oh sure, the internet says it's easy - just download this free program! Then hit the goddamn paywall when actually trying to use the software for anything other than viewing the video.

With the solitude afforded by a run-of-the-mill slow day, I've been piddling around on the shop PC. It isn't terribly outdated - but the laptop would be better for this task. It just runs so much faster, and there are some compatibility issues with some of the stuff I find.

But using the laptop is a dangerous proposition, as Midnight uses the computer more than I do. I don't know if I can get this done today, and I can't leave that on the laptop for her to find.

Of course, I am going to show it to her at some point anyway...

Maybe I'm just overthinking things? Midnight could probably help me with this task.

One thing is certain out of this whole day thus far. She really is the highlight of my otherwise dull life. This would just be an otherwise ordinary day before her, and I would not have batted an eye at the quiet solitude I'm sitting through now.

But now? This sucks. Even on her worst days, Midnight was a good distraction. Now we both get along better, so there are plenty of actual discussions, debates, banter...

Just her being there off to the side, in what I've just come to dub 'Middie's Corner' is a comforting feeling.

But I don't have that today. Furthermore, I have forced myself to not check on her - it's a hangover, after all. Being disturbed while going through that the next day just makes it worse.

I still worry a bit. However, I also find myself wondering about her actions and demeanor when drunk.

it was quite a startling change. Giddy, excitable, chatty, and open to trying new things. And perhaps just a little dimwitted.

Makes me curious if that's how she used to be - a sort of peek into the past when she wasn't cybernetically enhanced. It doesn't matter - but it's an intriguing idea to consider.

But I would not want to repeat the experience to probe her mind. Who knows what all she's seen and forgotten - things that could just as easily be dredged up even as the night becomes a blur.

Out of sheer boredom and having made no progress in video editing, I just start playing the video from last night for a chuckle. Honestly, I lucked out on how quickly I was able to set up the phone.

At almost the perfect angle, no less. The video really did turn out great despite it coming from a rather dated phone.

One thing I can't help but focus on now - Midnight really knows how to swing that thing...

Damn.

Her voice still sounds just as good as it did to me last night. I never took her for a singer. But she pleasantly surprised me.

Then again, that's sort of been her thing this whole time, hasn't it? Midnight is full of surprises, once that tough exterior she wears has been allowed to relax. Obviously last night, this was aided by substance.

"Hey, dude?"

Fuckfuckfuck.

I quickly close out of the video before looking up at my sudden unannounced guest.

It's a guy in probably his twenties with long unkempt hair. Even beyond that, I can't help but take note of his slovenly looks. While I may have at first considered this man was homeless, the pungent odor of marijuana coming off of him as he steps up to the counter, and laid-back, indifferent demeanor toward me says otherwise.

Holy shit, did he smoke a whole fucking plant before coming in here? Or did he just finish fingerblasting a dead skunk?

"Sorry, can I help you?"

It appears to take a moment for my greeting to make the connection in his brain.

Yeah, he seems like a genuine stereotypical burnout.

"Yeah, yeah. Hey, I'm looking for a hood and front bumper for cheap?"

"Depending on the condition and car, I can go pretty cheap. What car are you needing parts for?" I ask. Putting my early judgment aside, I bring up the catalog on my computer screen.

"A Cobalt, I think? Chevy, right?"

...really? Did he miss the vintage auto parts bit on the sign out front?

"Sorry, this is a junkyard for classic and older cars. I don't do new stuff like that."

"No, it's not new, man," he says with a slight laugh. "It's like ten years old or somewhere around there. I hit a car in a parking lot, messed up the hood and stuff."

"Yeah, when I say old, I'm talking pre-nineties cars."

"Holy shit, that's like ancient, dude."

God damn...

"Okay, but I don't have anything out back in the yard that will work for you. Sorry."

"Could you at least have someone look? No offense, dude, but you're just the counter guy - starting out on the bottom rung, you know? I get it man."

Despite a poor attempt at a chuckle toward the end, I don't find him amusing at all.

"I'm the only employee here - because I own this salvage yard, and I know it like the back of my hand. I can't help you - I don't have any parts for a Chevy Cobalt. Thanks for stopping, have a nice day."

Admittedly, I lay the sarcasm on just a bit at the end, and stoner boy takes notice.

"Well, you don't have to be rude about it. I'm a paying customer."

"You haven't bought anything, and I've told you twice I don't have your parts."

"You didn't even look, bro!"

"Because I know I don't have it! Do you even know where the hell you are?"

"Fuck you dude!"

"Get out of here before I make you regret stepping foot in this garage."

Both of us jump as Midnight's voice growls out a warning. I turn and crane my neck, finding Midnight at the top of the landing above us, leering at the "customer." She still doesn't look particularly steady standing there...

"Really? You're one of those weird dudes that keeps ponies?" the young man snickers. "Wow, couldn't imagine being that lonely to need a cute little pony bot to keep you happy."

Quick as a whip, Midnight snaps her wings open, leaping and gliding down to the floor just a few steps away from the guy. Her eyes glow brightly as she bares her teeth.

Astonished by either her speed or her looks, the burnout backs up several steps.

"Get. The. Fuck. Out," Midnight snarls, taking a calculated step forward with each word.

That intimidation maneuver is all it takes for the fool to scramble off and around the corner without another word.

Midnight exhales deeply, closing her eyes and grimacing.

"You didn't need to do that."

"No, but I was headed down here anyway, and I didn't see any reason for that little pissing contest to drag on longer, John," she explains.

"Middie, I got it under control - you don't need to be down here," I console her as she steps up to the counter. "Just rest."

"Oh no, I'm not down here to work," she retorts. There's a biting tone in her voice as her eyes narrow with suspicion upon me.

Uh...

"What's wrong?"

"A curious thing happened as I woke from a nap and decided to fetch my laptop from the living room," she says, beginning to pace in front of me. "I would have sworn - before hearing your little squabble, mind you - that I heard my own voice from somewhere down here. Care to explain that odd occurrence?"

"You... heard that?" I ask, slumping with shame.

"It isn't like your home is soundproof - what else is there to make noise upstairs if I'm trying to nap and relax in peace?"

"I guess when you put it that way-"

"Stop bullshitting me, John. I have a pounding headache still antagonizing me and I'm in no mood to dance around a fucking answer," she coldly interrupts, her eyes beginning to glow again as her ire builds. "What was I hearing? What happened last night? A short and concise answer here would serve you well."

The jig is up - I was hoping to just show her because it would be...

Would it be any better to see it than explain it? I took a video of my friend completely smashed, singing and dancing in front of an audience.

It sounds worse now when I really think about it - while I'm backed into a corner.

"You got drunk last night, and when we were trying to leave, the bartender suggested karaoke to you, which is singing along with a song. And you really wanted to do it."

"So you tell me no, how hard is that? Are you really that spineless?"

"You just - I just wanted you to enjoy yourself, Mid."

She rears up and plants her hooves on the counter across from me, narrowing the gap between her and me.

"So me enjoying myself in a compromised state also includes videotaping me for future laughs? Is that what we're getting at here? Do you really want to keep digging your grave?"

"I only ended up recording it because you sort of embarrassed me by mentioning the song that came on was the one I sing in the shower occasionally. So I guess that was my little way to get back at you later, between you and me. I had no intentions of sharing it with anyone else, and I still don't."

"And why are you watching it down here?"

"I'm trying to trim it down to just the singing and dancing. Left it recording all night because I was in a rush to get you home."

"Why?"

"Because you tripped and fell, and I was worried."

Midnight is silent as her questioning ceases - but she doesn't dare to take an eye off of me.

"Midnight, I know that you're mad, but-"

"Shut up, John. Just shut the fuck up before you spout something else to piss me off," she warns, her voice full of hurt and betrayal. "I don't know whether I should believe that's all there is to it. If I were you, I would leave that video as is, and we will watch it tonight. I feel like it will be pretty obvious if you've fucked with it - unless you already started deleting shit."

"I haven't gotten that far. Can't seem to find a program for free that will do-"

"Leave it, John."

I just nod my head silently as her bright blue eyes begin to return to normal. She drops back down to the floor without another word, making her way back to the stairs.

"Midnight, I'm sorry," I apologize as she starts to climb her way back up to our living space.

"Are you really? Or are you just sorry for getting caught?" Midnight inquires, keeping her eyes fixated on the door at the top.

"...both."

"That's about the smartest answer you could have had," she replies emotionlessly. "I'm going back to bed, and I hope you don't have any other secret pieces of media to peruse because I'm keeping an eye and ear open now."

"That's all there is. I swear."

Midnight looks down at me as she reaches the landing above, her muzzle creased with a deep frown as she leers in disapproval.

"Perhaps try focusing on being constructive with your job rather than fuck around with stupid shit, John," she suggests before the door behind her opens and she slips inside.

Well, that was nice work, dumbass.

I really touched a nerve and hurt her with this stupid stunt. I don't have anyone to blame but myself. Suddenly, the amusement of that video isn't palatable to me.

Needless to say, I'm going to heed her advice and leave it alone. But I hope that somehow, I can smooth things over with her tonight - and regain her trust.

Yeah, turns out I'm really stupid.