Last Stop on the Mail Route

The door clicks shut behind us. Third floor, end of the hall, corner suite, room 33. View wasn't anything amazing, especially compared to the room itself; just a pair of windows showing a side street and some buildings, with the bustling crowds and festivities. That wasn't the draw of the room, though. That was the elaborate, wide bed that took up the middle of the room, practically the centerpiece. It looked big enough for me to sprawl out completely on, and be unable to touch each end.

Sure, there was a pair of chairs, a table, a dresser, some light room-filling furniture like candles and such; but between that, and the elaborate bar that ran alongside the adjacent wall to the door, the priorities to this room were pretty clear. A good quarter of the room was dedicated to the bathroom, squared away just to the right of the entrance, opposite the bar.

I sling my pack off my back, dropped near the foot of the bed, the luggage I was carrying for Derpy soon following, nestled in place. Dinky is excitedly bouncing around the large room; oggling and looking at everything. Even the bathroom was sizable, once I got a chance to peek my head in. With a big shower wide enough to soak a Celestia-sized Pony, shower head mantled directly overhead, I couldn't help but whistle. Poorly, on account of my cheek.

"Anon. This is -- why? This is way too much, a-and one bed? I -- I mean, you didn't even correct them, w-we aren't--" Derpy starts to ramble, stood just behind me.

"Honestly, thirty-something bits for a room right beside the Fair street, day of the Fair? Pretty good." I muse, shutting the bathroom.

"Not thirty-five, SEVENTY! FOR THE WHOLE WEEKEND! I-- you know I can't--" She exclaims, holding a hoof to her head with worry, breathing getting faster.

I kneel down, wobbling a little as I balance, and start to help her take off her purse-bag, sliding the luggage aside.
"That's why I did. My treat. I warned you I was going to pamper you." I tease softly, leaning close. "And the bed is why I asked for extra pillows and blankets. You'll have to forgive me for the one room, but bed's all for you and Dinky."

She looks at me with those same, big, concerned eyes I've come to get lost inside.
"...Why?" She asks, barely above a whisper.

"Told you, I'd be doing everything I can to make sure you and Dinky have a good time. And I'm pretty used to sleeping on things that aren't beds, at this point." I reassure. One of those chairs had my name written all over it. Just had to figure out which was the comfier one. One for putting my feet up, one for reclining into. Classic maneuver of the beliefs, a timeless choice.

"But w-we could have gone to another hotel..." She tries to protest. Too little, too late, bubble-butt.

"And waste time Hotel-hopping the day the Fair is starting? Nah, that's sheer luck we got this canceled room. Sounds like someone just has to get used to getting spoiled, like the gorgeous mare they are." I tease -- slowly, I raise a hand to stroke her cheek. She watches my hand, melting into it as my palm presses against her.

"You... I don't feel comfortable, letting you waste all these bits. A-and you know we're not going to get drunk or anything while we're here, right? Do you... do that kind of stuff?" She asks tentatively. I'm starting to realize just how many worries this sweet thing had bottled up; how many things she worries about on the daily. Even between us. She's making a big step of trust, even if she's fostering a lot of doubts.

"How could it be a waste when it's spent on the one Mare that deserves it? Big room, close access to the Fair -- bar is an unplanned plus, and that Pool sounds nice for the end of the day. And I'm a flavor-drink guy, myself. Might try a sip from something, otherwise... no, I don't like going too far. Don't like the loss of control." I admit, smiling; trying to reassure. Me and drink weren't a combination I was a fan of.

Derpy seems to search my face for a long moment, eventually closing her eyes. She steps forward, lifting her head from my hand, and nuzzling her head into my neck.
"Promise?" I hear her ask, muffled.

I kiss the top of her head softly.
"I'd never lie to you. Best thing that's happened to me since I got here."

A long, wistful sigh escapes Derpy; she pulls back slightly, and kisses me. A quick peck, right on the lips. She looks relieved.

"Flatterer. You call me crashing through your window the best thing?"

"Absolutely; stuck your butt right in my face. How could I not --" I tease, earning a playful smack on the shoulder for my games.

"That's enough out of you. As fun as it would be to sit here and flirt all day; you remember why we're here? Your promise?" She chastises; still smiling.

"Sure do. What's on the planner? Breakfast, then hit the Fair?"

"They did say it was compli--cocomentary!" Dinky squeaks loudly from the bed, bouncing on it; no matter where she aims, she sinks into the massive mattress, before launching several feet up into the air, giggling all the while. A stern but playful glance from Derpy gets her settled, sinking into the cushions.

"They sure did, Dinkster. Hungry?" I call over; the Filly nods rapidly, struggling to emerge from the depths of the bed, clawing forward with her hooves like she was fighting for her life in a pit of quicksand.

I turn back to Derpy, her face still close.
"I'm sorry, if I pushed you into anything you weren't comfortable with or ready for." I admit softly. "You dictate the pace, you tell me what you're not comfortable with. I just wanted to make sure you and Dinky had what you need so you could enjoy the trip; a little pampering included."

She smiles at me, using her wings to pull me into another kiss -- this one lasts a little longer, a little breathier.
"...I appreciate that. And you, Anon. Just... don't rush into things, okay? Let me get my say." She requests, watching me expectantly.

"Of course." I affirm -- only to feel a Filly tackle my back, leaning around me. The Dinkster escapes her sleepy-bound bonds.

"Stop mushing faces and let's GOOO! I'm HUNGRY!" Dinky complains loudly, getting an awkward cough out of me and Derpy, throwing each-other amused looks as we part, myself standing. Dinky dangles from me, wriggling.

I reach around myself, grabbing up Dinky like a football, swinging her around to my front.

"They shall know Dinky; for she will be the tallest." I hear the little filly mutter, as she starts to clamber up out of my grip, to my shoulders. I reaffirm the concerned glance from Derpy as she settles in, clinging to my neck.

"Settled in, oh tallest Monarch of Height?" I playfully ask, making sure she's got a good wrap-around of my neck. She's partially tucked into my jacket, helping keep her in place.

"Yes!" She beams, kicking her little hooves in excitement.

I can't tell what squeezed my heart more; how adorable this filly was being, or the approving look Derpy gave me after.

Well, Dinky's not coming down anytime soon. We're down in the Banquet area, which is fairly quiet, mind for a few individuals and small groups, most having already hit breakfast. Despite not getting the first wave of goods, we've got a good selection.

I'm leant over in front of the breakfast buffet tables, letting Dinky ogle the selections as she hums, deep in thought.

"Pancake, or Waffle?" I hear her mutter. Truly, a debate for only the wisest Philosophers.

If Ponies ate meat, I'd introduce this kid to chicken nuggets. Probably get a kick out of those.

Speaking of meat -- the Clerk apologized, but since this establishment was themed for caring and comforting Equines specifically, they didn't have any meat on selection. At this point, I never expect it on any menu. I'm just glad they put in tall ceilings for the Pegasi that want to fly, so I'm not cracking my skull on doorframes.

Which brings a thought to mind, as another Pegasi flaps over the banquet line to join another at a table. Comparatively, Derpy only seems to fly when she's running her route, otherwise she prefers walking. My guess is because of her accident-prone-ness and precaution, but I'm not gonna bring it up. I like when she walks alongside me.

I think I've thought it before -- but she's sturdy for a Pegasi. They're usually more lithe, athletic. My guess was between mixed parents, and her physically-orientated career. She isn't outright toned; but I don't often see her break a sweat, and she's got some meat on her bones, hints of muscle visible when she does certain things.

Especially in the flank. Of which she catches me staring at it. Like, at this exact moment. Had to keep myself busy while Dinky peruses for herself, anyhow.

A playful huff escapes her, teeth currently holding one of the buffets paper plates.
"Eyesh awhn dhe fhood." I hear her mutter.

I slowly smile, my eyes not moving. Her eyebrows furrow.
"Dhe buffhey fhood." She clarifies; I make an exaggerated 'Ohhh', smiling -- and I see the corners of her mouth crease upward, shaking her head.

Dinky decides, in a brilliant move, to take both; as well as several sugary confectioneries, packing it in while the getting is good. Truly, a revolutionary in the field of greater thinking. Her plate sits on the top of my head, held securely by her magic. I don't ask why she can't just float it beside us; such would be treason. It's clear, as she is the self-proclaimed Princess of the Tall, I am but her loyal table.

Derpy seems intent on dabbling, too; she's got some things a little too leafy-green for my own taste, and a muffin. I don't think either of them get to eat out very much, and on Derpy's budget, I don't they can afford to mix things up a lot. That's a mixed feeling for me.

Now that I'm working for Rarity, I'm making enough bits to live comfortably; but that's kind of a luxury job, and I don't actually know anything about Derpy's budget or cost of living. Just that she's alluded to it not being very much. But that's not a topic that's any of my business asking. If she wants to tell me, she will; instead, I'll continue to plan enjoyable Sundays, making new foods together for breakfast, and pampering her and her kid where I can.

Myself, my plate is loaded with one of the few Pony food items I can actually stand. Potato wedges. Whole plate of the fuckers.

I don't even dip into the sweets; I'm astounded these horses don't all have diabetes, the way they inhale sugar, but my sweet tooth died months ago, and rarely resurfaces. I'm glad, because it would have been my teeth and blood pressure that died instead, if it didn't go first. I think the last sugary thing I ate was that Milkshake from our Cafe date.

We find our way to an empty table; it takes some convincing to get Dinky to relinquish her shoulders-throne, but the promise that she can return when she's done eating seems to do it, settling her down beside her mom. There's only a few other groups actually still in the breakfast area, most already shuffling out for the Fair. The dining room itself is quite pretty; not as elaborate as the lobby, but it shifts the bright cream color for a darker, warmer tone to inspire comfort.

"So what's the game plan -- start at one end of the road, and just bumble between Booths?" I ask, shoveling wedges into my waiting mouth. I tend to chew with my right teeth more; less of a mess that way.

"I was thinking we try going down one side of the street today, come back, then tomorrow, go down the other way." Derpy fields, chewing at her own food.

"Or we just see where we end up!" Dinky offers, half a waffle dangling out of her mouth, syrup dribbling. Her fork floats around her head, tinted in her little lavender glow.

"Oh, Dinky -- " Derpy mutters, looking for a napkin.

I've already got mine, leaning over to grab Dinky's squishy little face, getting the schmutz off her cheeks once she's got the chunk of waffle out of her mouth, and back on the plate.

Her face scrunches, trying to resist; but she's not match for the schmutz-cleaner, the syrup quickly defeated.

"Slow down, Dinky. It isn't going anywhere." Derpy chuckles, shaking her head. She gives me a thankful look.

"But I WANNA GO!" Dinky exclaims, pouting. Think that nap on the train is backfiring.

Can't fault the kid for being excited, though; her Mom's been gassing her up about the trip for a while now, I'd bet.

"You won't get to see the Fair at all if you choke on your food, either; cut your food up first." Derpy warns, throwing in a little of that stern voice.

"Okaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay." Dinky drones out, using her magic to start sawing the waffle into smaller chunks.

I give Derpy an approving, pursed-lip nod, throwing in a playful golf-clap for her firm parenting.

"Don't you start." She teases, shaking her head.

Breakfast went good, and quickly. With our belongings stored safely in the room, other than the necessities, we were ready to hit the Career Fair; Derpy had her little purse bag, and I had what I needed in my pockets. Dinky had her vibrant, syrup-fueled personality.

Said Dinky was back up on my shoulders, her little hooves stuck on my head; her cheeky little grin plastered on her face.

"Are you sure you're alright with her being up there?" Derpy asks, looking up at her daughter as she trots beside me. We clear the entrance to the hotel, heading back up the side road towards the Fair proper. The distant ambience of conversation and excitement is already audible.

"She weighs like, nothing. You Ponies are way lighter than I ever expected. And I've got a good grip on her." I nod, giving the Dinkster a little poke in the side as I hold her back-hooves, tucked on each side of my neck. She giggles, wiggling in place.

"Plus, A tier view of the whole place. But if you want her staring at Pony butt the whole Fair, I can put her down." I tease.

"Ewww!" Dinky sticks her tongue out.

"Only if you're alright with it. Dinky -- try not to move around too much, okay?" Derpy warns, and Dinky nods enthusiastically, instantly doing the opposite.

We exit out of the opposite end of the side street we'd entered originally, and hit the main stretch of the Fair. And it is packed.