Midnight

Rain in the desert. It's an occurrence rare enough to rouse me from light slumber, and the drops pelting the windowpane above the bed have that effect this morning. That shift in consciousness also alerts me to a weight on my chest, though that's hardly a surprise. Even before I crack open an eye, I expect to see a mass of blue and violet hair – and indeed, that's what I find.

Midnight lays atop me, but her head is turned so that while she uses me as a mattress and a pillow, I am only greeted by her hair, not her face. Despite that, and even amongst the raindrops, I can hear her lightly snoring.

She doesn't toss and turn nearly as much in her sleep these days; it's been a while since she's woken up with a severe case of bedhead, and I sort of miss that wild look. But it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make if her sleep has been more restful and sound.

Slowly, I bring my hand up to brush away her bangs, trying to sneak the smallest peek at her face while she's still slumbering. But be it sheer coincidence or proof I'm not as sly as I had hoped, I spy a twitch from one of Midnight's ears, as well as a disturbance in the rhythm of her breathing.

"You awake?" I whisper.

What was remaining of her snorish inhales stops with my hushed question. "...no. Are you?" she murmurs in a lethargic voice.

"I'm not sure yet."

Trying her damnedest not to laugh, Midnight inevitably snorts in response. "That doesn't make any sense, stupid," she mumbles.

"Neither does you telling me you're not awake, but at least I was nice about it, grumpy."

"For all you know I could be talking in my sleep," she protests, tilting her head up to give me a view of her face with her eyes still closed. With great care, I take the opportunity and use my thumb to gently raise one of her eyelids. A faint bluish glow begins to appear, intensifying as her pupil shifts and focuses in adjustment to the sudden intrusion of more light from the world.

"Do you feel accomplished?" Midnight grumbles.

"I don't know, but I'm still not convinced you're asleep. By the way, did you know your eyes don't glow nearly as much when they're closed?"

"Hm. Can't say I've ever looked in the mirror with my eyes closed," she shoots back as I let go of her eyelid and let it fall.

"Well, when you say it like that, my question sounds a little stupid."

The response goads her into raising her head up off my chest and shifting the rest of her body around so she's facing me properly as her eyes finally open on their own. While still hazy with sleep just based on her sluggish movements, the ends of her mouth have upturned. "Maybe it's something more than just sounding stupid, John."

But the rainy ambiance above us soon drags her gaze to the window and the overcast skies outside continuing to throttle the glass. "Doesn't sound or look like we need to be in a rush this morning," she muses.

"Nope. Gonna be a slow day today. Probably just box some orders," I say while turning to my side. I reach my arm up to begin petting her mane.

Midnight nods at the suggestion – or is just trying to lean into the petting. It's hard to tell right now. "I'm okay with that plan," she finally confirms.

"I am too. It was fun having Starla with us for a few days, but having to keep up with the two of you was tiring."

"Aww, you poor thing," Midnight coos, poking me lightly in the ribs. "But it is nice to be back to us. A slower pace – Starla has boundless energy, I felt like it was a challenge to keep up with her at times for me, too."

Midnight decides she's had enough of me as her bed and rolls off to the right. As she situates herself beside me in bed, her left wing fans out to drape over my form.

"You've really been flaunting your wings lately – what's up with that?" I comment, reaching down to feel the soft plumage brush against the palm of my hand. When I draw my focus back to her face, uncertainty overwhelms the grin she has been sporting.

"That's not a problem... right?" she proposes with caution.

"Of course not. Sorry, I didn't really say that the right way," I apologize. "I'm just curious what changed – it's a welcome surprise."

"I guess since I have em – well, why not use em?" she responds, reiterating a comment said just a few nights ago. "There was a time I was ashamed of them, but that's passed now – and they are actually pretty useful. Like for scouting a hard-to-find car."

"I don't think you should have ever been ashamed of them Mid – but I'm glad you've finally come around."

"Yeah, yeah," she mutters, beginning to blush a bit following my comment. "Maybe I'm starting to finally like who I am now. I'm not... sickened by it."

"What changed?"

Midnight scoffs almost immediately as the question leaves my mouth. "Where do I even start? A lot of shit has changed."

While my initial impression is Midnight finds my vagueness worthy of an obtuse answer, the glazed-over look in her eyes as she internally questions herself on the topic informs me otherwise.

"I guess I don't know if there was a tipping point. I didn't really recognize I was... sort of accepting myself. I just feel comfortable now, you know?"

This discussion coming so soon after waking up is making it hard for me to conjure up anything to say in response. Not wanting to spout something awkward in this precious time when Midnight feels willing to open up, I just nod my head and widen my smile.

"It's— it's very hard to accept who you are when you wake up with something new swapped out or attached. The wings were the most difficult thing for me – I wasn't born with them, so they aren't really mine," she explains, taking a moment to unfurl her other wing and raise them high enough to scrape the ceiling. "I guess if there was a way to make that feel worse is to know where they came from – a Princess Twilight Sparkle bot that was apparently chalked up as surplus. They just dyed em as best they could to match and – voila. My whole self-image just couldn't keep up with the after-school science project I felt like I was starting to become."

"I don't want you to get back into those awful memories, Mid," I interrupt in protest.

"I'm fine, John – I swear on it," she replies in a firm voice. Her wings lower again, with the right folding up and the left once again being used to blanket me. "It's easier to make sense of things when I have someone to bounce my thoughts off of. But to my point – these wings took a long time to learn how to manipulate and control. So no, I wasn't born with them, but in growing accustomed to having them and figuring out how to use them, I have made them mine. Besides that – not taking advantage of them is sort of squandering an opportunity. I didn't ask for them, but I can use them to my advantage."

"That's... a hell of a way to look at it," I stammer, shocked by the amount of thought she's put into this. "And to be honest, they look good on you, too."

"God, you're just trying to make me feel embarrassed this morning, aren't you?" she tries to grumble, though stifled laughter ruins the facade even before she tries to hide behind her front hooves.

Undaunted, I ease her legs away to catch sight of her face again. Even in the fairly dim light, and aided by her luminescent eyes, I can see the tinge of red blush that threatens to turn her dark blue hue into purple. She tries to shy away from me – but it's a token attempt.

"You keep blushing like that, I'm gonna start calling you Grimace – your face is damn near violet," I incessantly tease her.

"Stop acting like a queer," she mutters, trying to prevent her smirk from showing and failing miserably.

"No. I got you right where I want you now." I close in on her until I'm nose to nose with her and doing my best impression of a nuzzle. I can feel the heat radiating from her face until her nostrils flare and exhale a few giggles.

"You're such a jackass."

"I know. I aim to please."

Despite her protests, Midnight finally relents and relaxes again beside me. She takes a moment to offer a fleeting kiss, the reward I was hoping to get through all of this. With my victory, I allow her some space again, though she's keen to scoot back up toward me.

"Seems like everyone's in awe of your flying though ‐ and I've noticed you doing it more frequently out in the yard, too. How is that going, more comfortable?"

"Yeah, I'm getting there. I'm probably more comfortable flying than I've ever been before – but that sort of comes with the territory. Being in a lab, and more often than not a fish tank of a room, there wasn't a lot of space to practice," she explains. "It's certainly becoming less tiring the more I do it. Working out parts that never saw much use and building some endurance. But I dunno if you'll ever see me doing long-haul flights – I feel I've probably got a limit rooted in a lack of aerodynamics. I doubt I cut the air very well."

"I dunno, I think you cut a pretty pleasing figure, Mid," I gush, tracing lines on her stomach with my fingers.

"You don't let up, do you?" Midnight's face scrunches up as she tries to act angry with my comment, lightly shoving me away with both front hooves.

"I don't see the problem – It's just us here."

"It's just us here," she mocks me in a nasally voice.

"Aww, someone sounds a little grumpy this morning," I coo while returning to my prior ministrations of stroking her mane. "Maybe you should have gotten more sleep."

"I probably would be asleep if someone hadn't felt the need to ask me if I was awake," she retorts, poking my chest.

"Hey, you're the one that answered."

"Yeah, that was stupid of me in hindsight, now that I see you just wanted to torture me."

I can't help but scoff at her exaggeration. "Turning you into a cute little blushing mess is torture?"

"Always was."

"Considering you keep coming back for more, I have to question where exactly I'm in the wrong here."

"Stockholm Syndrome. Look it up," she retorts without hesitation.

"You have an answer planned for everything, don't you?"

"Thanks, I try, " she sasses back with a cocky grin to cap off the facade. "Maybe since work is out of the question, we can go get the engine block today. How does that sound?"

"Eh – let's give it another day or two. Besides the fact we aren't completely to the weekend, which was the estimate of when it would be ready for pickup, I don't have the crank or the bearings set yet. So we could get it home – but there isn't much else to do with it other than sit around."

"Hmph. Thanks for killing my hopes," Midnight pouts. With a sigh, she stands up on the bed, doing a few leisurely stretches to shake off her remaining sleepiness.

"Hey, could you turn around before you do the head-down, ass‐up stretch?" A pillow quickly rises up from the bed and smacks me in the face.

"You're a sick bastard."

"Maybe we should get some new pillows today," I propose, not bothering to remove the one still covering my head. "These are starting to get rather violent."

As the pillow peels away from my face, I wonder if I'm about to get hit a second time for my efforts. Thankfully, the metal wire that's cinched around a corner of the pillow tosses it aside to the bedspread. But with that task completed, the thin metal serpent slithers its way around my wrist and tugs at me.

"Come on, it's time to get up," Midnight instructs as she continues to pressure me into an upright position. "Your comments are already getting stale."

"Oh, thank god that's all you want," I sigh as I finally yield and sit up in bed. "I thought you were planning on some really kinky shit this morning."

"Ugh, this is gonna be one of those days where your mouth refuses to shut, isn't it?" Midnight growls – or at least tries to make it sound angry. It doesn't really work that well when combined with the grin that's wide enough to show her fangs. She finally frees my wrist from her wire, which neatly eases its way into the chain links of her necklace for safekeeping as she thumps down to the floor.

With a reluctant grunt, I shift my body around and throw my legs over the side of the bed. "You aren't in an actual rush to get at a project today, are you?"

"No, but I don't wanna just lay in bed all day, either," she replies, making her way to the door for a check of her visage in the mirror. "Breakfast?"

"Eh, I'm not really feeling it," I say, waving her off. "I'll probably just do a granola bar or something else that requires no effort. Unless you have something in mind."

"Nah, I'll just follow your lead. Probably just have some beef jerky."

Just the thought of beef jerky this early in the morning makes me groan in disgust. "If you absolutely must, at least avoid the teriyaki. Smelling that first thing is not something I find enjoyable."

"Aww, poor little baby," Midnight coos as she opens the bedroom door and turns to me. Her smile has turned into something more devious now as her fangs make a full appearance. "Maybe that's the small price to pay for your fun this morning."

"If you say it like that, I'm just going to do it again, you know," I threaten her.

"I guess we both have to make a little sacrifice then, huh?" With that, Midnight turns and sashays through the doorway.