Midnight

"Can I be honest with you?"

"Even when I say no, it never stops you, Mid."

"You've never said no..." Midnight trails off, trying to think back to any particular instance that indeed does not exist.

"Correct, but you've never been one to shy away from giving it to me straight, so your question is sort of stupid."

"Alright, fine – that looks like absolute dogshit," she blurts out, pointing to the engine stand behind me.

I was wondering how long it would be until she spoke up about my little craft project. Midnight's eyes have been dancing between her own work polishing some of the chromework on the Chrysler and back over to the engine stand. With the Hemi completely assembled as far as internals, it's time to prep for paint.

There's more to it than mixing up paint – aside from a quick scrub-down of the external to get rid of any oils from assembly, there are still holes to be sealed up. The orifice for the distributor, the openings on the intake manifold for the carbs, the exhaust ports...

All of that is being accomplished with newspaper, masking tape, and plastic shopping bags; Midnight's exclamation isn't necessarily without merit, but I think she's missing the point.

"Well thank you," I gush, turning to her briefly and smiling. "I worked really hard to make it look like the perfect pile of dogshit."

"They probably make proper material for this sort of thing, don't they?"

"For paint masking? I suppose so," I agree, holding off on popping her bubble for the time being as I finish blocking off the passenger-side exhaust ports.

It really is astounding that Midnight is sharp as a whip – yet can so easily miss a simple point or idea. I suppose some of that falls into the street smarts to book smarts comparison, but nonetheless, I find it funny to hang her up on instances like this.

"It just looks like you raided the trash can to do this. You know that, right?" Middie continues, reveling in her opportunity to pour it on.

"Technically I did for the newspaper. But guess what happens to all of this once I'm done painting?"

"Uh, I would assume you gonna put it... back in the trash," Midnight replies, mumbling the last half of her answer as realization finally clicks in her head.

"Exactly. Other than the masking tape, I didn't pay for any of this. I'm reusing stuff for free – the 'professional' stuff looks nicer, probably seals better, but it all ends up being the same and ending up in the same place."

"You were hoping I would keep carrying on just to turn it around on me like that, weren't you?" she suggests, her ears sagging as she tries playing the victim now.

"Hey, I let you have your fun – and I got mine. That's not gonna work on me, Mid," I counter, pointing at her. She quickly regains her composure, proving it was a facade like I expected.

Now I get to the tricky part that I'm not looking forward to – mixing up the paint. I've read the directions multiple times now and perused some videos and tutorials online, but this remains uncharted territory.

The gravity feed spray gun I'm going to use is still new to me. While I've mixed up a bit of paint and sprayed a couple of junk parts as a test, I'm far from feeling comfortable with my technique. Hell, all of this stuff I now dig out from shelves were purchases made specifically for this project. It isn't lost on me that there will be a learning curve in all of this, but... no guts, no glory, right?

I'll run a few test parts yet again to try to grasp what settings to use, but aside from that, patience and trial and error will have to be my co-pilots in this endeavor. The results may not come out perfect, but then again, I watched some videos online... I have confidence I'll get good results that will last far longer than rattlecans.

I note Midnight has completely abandoned her work in order to watch me as I shuffle back to my workstation with a whole collection of boxes. It was her idea to clean the chrome as busy work more than anything, so it doesn't bother me... except her eyes tracking me like a hawk while I figure out and fumble my way into starting this endeavor is unnerving.

"What happens if you don't mix all of that paint and stuff at the correct ratio?" Midnight inquires as soon as I pull the first container from its box.

Well, that's not a very inspiring or reassuring question...

"Heat death of the universe."

Midnight's nose wrinkles at the nonsensical response she receives. "What the hell does that mean?"

"I dunno, it was the first thing that came to mind – that's what I went with."

Knowing full well that's probably the best answer I'm going to give her, Midnight just shakes her head; coincidentally, I set about shaking up the first quart of paint, which is in fact a primer. Everything I read about it says I should be able to spray this on, give it an hour or two to cure, then go back on the attack with the color. At least primer is simpler to spray – there's no metallic in it I need to be mindful about in regards to heavy or light covering.

"So... Starla and I have been talking," Midnight abruptly shifts gears with an intro that leaves much to be desired.

"Really? That's quite bold of you two," I gasp, covering my open mouth with my hand.

Midnight sighs, reverting to a disappointed pout. "Real talk, not bullshit now," she states. "I'm not wandering over to poke you in the ribs or tap you with my hoof."

"Fair enough – yeah, I've gotten used to those cues. Anyway, real talk now, jokes are sidelined," I assure her.

Midnight eases up on her disapproval but reverts back to polishing up the Chrysler. "Starla says she and Teddy are gonna be taking the Cutlass out to a car show. It will be the first one for her, and for Teddy, it will be the first one he's taken the Cutlass to since getting it on the road again."

"Really? That's pretty neat – guess the two of them have built up some confidence, huh?" I try to play innocent and awed by the idea – but this is not news to me. Teddy happened to text me just a few days ago with the revelation; in his words, it's less about the Cutlass and more about Starla.

Teddy has come around to the conclusion that while it's reasonable to be cautious when living with someone whose existence is illegal, he's been taking it too far. For the past couple of weeks, he's been asking me questions about how Midnight and I go about in public and how to arrest his paranoia. It's been quite a shock for me to see him coming to me for advice, but I do what I can. It must be working, for just last week the two of them went out for dinner – fast food in his truck, of course, but everyone has to start somewhere.

That's how Midnight and I started out, after all.

Though to that end, he has also echoed his concerns of Starla's weakness, even by her own admittance – losing perspective while talking to others and sharing too much info.

That's going to be harder to deal with, and something I haven't had to work around. But evidently, they must be making strides to be willing to take the next step such as this upcoming excursion.

On that note, Teddy's already put forth the invitation for us to join them. But I expected Midnight to hear from Starla about it, so I've been waiting...

Waiting just to see Midnight's face when she asks if we can go. The answer will obviously be yes, but it's not often I get to see her genuine pleading face.

"They've been trying to decide whether the time is right after a couple of times going out on little trips – sort of like we did at first," Midnight continues, snapping me back to the conversation. "She's feeling excited, but a bit nervous, too – this will be a bigger social gathering than she's probably ever seen, but it should work since the cars are... well, it's a car show, so they're the stars. Sort of takes the eyes off her, especially with families there that may bring along ponybots."

"How do you think Star is gonna do? I'm guessing her goal is to get to talk to some ponybots?"

"Yeah, she's been able to talk with bots here and there in the past – usually when Teddy has stopped to help one or brought one home temporarily. It's been a while, but she says she always enjoyed those little moments. It's just different when... I guess when they're more adjusted. Have a family to go back to. So you need tighter lips there."

"Ah, that's a fair point. I remembered she said the pair of em had helped out some less fortunate ponies before – I thought that was a bit odd to turn around and be avoidant of social situations," I admit.

"Well, she said that just kinda crept up over time – she didn't really notice until meeting us and talking with me," Midnight explains. "But she would like to talk to other passersby who happen to greet her if that happens. But she feels like she sort of needs a sidekick to help keep her on track, but doesn't necessarily want to burden Teddy with that, either..."

Midnight trails off, and I know it's because of the face of disappointment I'm displaying. But it has nothing to do with her or the conversation – I've just noticed while I have all the correct chemicals for the primer, the basecoat requires a different reducer to reach the required ratio for spraying. Apparently, I didn't do enough reading to catch that during the ordering process.

"What's wrong?" Midnight asks, her voice uneasy with my sudden shift.

"Well, it's not you, I'll start with that – but I think all I can do is apply primer tonight," I announce, downtrodden by the printed confirmation as I double-check the instructions on the paint can. "I don't have the right stuff to mix up the silver paint – or the gold, for that matter."

Midnight is afflicted by the same sort of defeat I feel right now. "So now what? You have to put in another order and wait another week?" she pouts.

That's a depressing thought – but when she says it out loud, I realize there must be another option. This paint surely isn't a unique concoction, meaning somewhere around this area, someone must sell the reducer I need in a physical store. Idea in mind, I pull out my smartphone and start tearing up the search engine, leaving Midnight to dwell on the lack of answers I currently have.

It takes but a few seconds to find there's an automotive paint supply store the next town over – only about an hour's drive. Unfortunately, that's where the good news ends when I look at the time; with only a few minutes until the clock hits six in the evening, there's no way I'm getting there before close... which is six o'clock.

"I'll have to wait till tomorrow, but I can get the chemicals I need not too far from here," I sigh. "But there's a significant chance of rain tomorrow too... so looks like the earliest I'll be shooting actual color is Friday night."

"How did you not notice before? You've had all that stuff out of the boxes..." Midnight whines, plodding toward me to take a look. I spin the can around and point to the area of trouble, then offer up the reducer I have on hand. Her ears sag, indicating I'm not crazy.

"You gotta remember this is the first time I've done something like this, Mid – it's a whole new database of information that I don't know off the top of my head."

"In other words, the night of the car show is when you're gonna be painting," Midnight comments sulking as she sits on the concrete floor in front of me.

"I guess the good thing is I noticed before trying to mix this up and paint. Who knows what kind of a disaster would have resulted, yeah?"

Midnight nods her head, but there isn't much solace to be had in my words – for either of us. I really wanted to knock this out tonight, and just like Midnight, head out to the car show on Friday. Midnight didn't even get to ask me if we could go...

But, perhaps there is a silver lining of sorts to be found. After all, Midnight can't be of much help with the painting process, and I didn't care for the idea of her watching over my shoulder while I fumbled my way through a fast-track learning process. Teddy already suggested that he owes me for watching over Starla during his trip, and there was the idle chat about having her over sometime...

It might be the perfect setup – Midnight gets to tag along with big sis and Teddy while I stay home and get this project done. While I would have liked to go, there's plenty more car shows to be seen in the future, especially once we get the Chrysler on the road.

"Hey – chin up, Middie. To tell you the truth, I already knew about the car show plans. That wasn't a surprise to me."

"And you made me jump through hoops floating this whole idea to you because..."

"It was one hoop at most," I correct her. "And I wanted to see your little sad face you put on when you want something."

"I don't do that – I have no idea what you're talking about," Midnight argues. She sticks her nose up in the air, seemingly offended at the mere notion she has ever done such a thing.

"Alright... do you call it your pleading face? Begging face?"

"Okay, you can shut up – what's your point?"

"My point is I know you want to go to that show and help Starla out any way you can. I would have come along, but just because I can't go doesn't mean you're unavailable."

Middie's eyes light up as she instantly picks up on the point I'm trying to convey. "Starla did mention that she and Teddy could stop over and pick me up before heading to the show, depending on what was going on here."

"And I think that's gonna work out great if you're okay wi—"

"I'll go message Starla right now!" Midnight exclaims, unable to wait for me to finish. In a flash, she's gone – streaking up the stairs and blowing past the door up top, en route to her laptop.

Alright then – that didn't take much convincing. While I hadn't expected the idea to be turned down, I guess I'm a bit surprised she wasn't so adamant about me tagging along. While she no doubt is furiously tapping out a message, I turn around and throw my attention back into the primer project I have to settle for tonight.

Much like me with this engine project, Midnight will be preoccupied with Starla the night of the car show even if I was there, and I'm not going to be able to help much. But I suppose my surprise at Midnight's reaction is also a bit of my own feelings tainting my expectations as I dwell on it.

After all, this is going to be the first time Midnight's going beyond these gates without me by her side. The thought forms a pit in my stomach, even though I know better. She's an adult, an equal partner – I trust her judgment, and she can handle herself. Plus, she won't be completely alone.

I'll manage without her for a night – and Midnight should have a good time with virtual one-on-one with Star, both in helping her out and explaining all the cars they come across.

I consider shooting Teddy a text, but leave it for now – I'd rather not steal Midnight and Starla's thunder at this junction. Perhaps that's a good call – out of my periphery, I spy movement, and directing my attention toward the stairs again, Midnight is already gliding down from the top, silent and unannounced.

"Nah, you're not spooking me this time," I warn her.

"Aww, dammit. Do I have you that paranoid now to always be on the lookout?" she complains upon landing.

"No, just chance this time. Get any message back?" I ask, noting Midnight already sports an eager grin despite her failed sneak attack.

Middie's mane bounces with energy as she nods her head. "Yep, all systems are go – Teddy will probably text you to let us know when he's on his way Friday evening."

"I can't believe you're gonna leave little old me all alone here at home," I whine, pretending to cry.

"You'll be fine, ya wuss," Midnight groans. Despite her mild insult, Midnight steps beside me, using one of her wings she has yet to fold away to drape over my back and around my side.

I know I'll be fine – and she will too. But maybe she senses my little bit of reluctance... or maybe she's experiencing that same feeling. Regardless of the reasoning, this is the right thing to do for both of us.