The Broken House

Rain fell upon Ponyville once again, the last of the summer rain the town had been allotted. After this, the farmers would have almost an entire clear month to prepare and harvest crops. Rain was channelled down furrows in the shingles towards the gutters, where it ran through the beleaguered cast iron tubes towards the ground, or the pavement if the buildings were in the town proper. Rust gathered on the pipes, and a distinct smell of petrichor filled the air again.

Very few were about. It was a weekend and ponies sought a day indoors, to ride out the final storm before the days of peace and fall. There was, however, one exception, one that bumbled quickly through the air towards town square, holding a soggy hoof up above his equally soggy face.

Midnight Lancer landed, having become completely soaked ever since he left the shelter of the boarding house. Trotting through the emptied market square, towards the Town Hall, he tried in vain to keep his wet mop of hair from his eyes as stray strands stung and tickled at them. Finally, though, he got under the roof of the town hall, shivering as he paused, before violently shaking himself out and spreading water droplets across the door around him.

Letting out a cold breath, he pushed through the double doors into the room beyond.

The reception of Ponyville Town Hall was fairly diminutive. A faded red rug covered most of the floor and light shone from a brass chandelier hanging above. Seven or so chairs sat along the left wall, with a framed (and seemingly outdated) map of the town hanging on the wall opposite. Doors lead deeper into the building, and a desk took up the back. From what Lancer knew, the town hall was mostly taken up by a large event area and some archives. He was surprised the small town even had a receptionist, who was staring at him from behind the desk, concerned.

"Oh you poor thing! Caught out by the rain?" the lime earth pony asked, standing up slightly.

"Uh. Yeah," Lancer decided to say, neglecting to mention the fact that he had woken up, decided on a course of action, and then rolled out of bed and out the window without even grabbing his raincoat.

"I would offer you a towel if I had one. All I have is office paper, and that really chafes and scrapes if you try and dry yourself off with them!" the receptionist chuckled.

"Right..." Lancer nodded slowly, wondering why exactly she knew.

"So! What brings you here, dearie?" the mare asked, clasping her forehooves together on top of the desk.

Walking forward to the desk and tracking some soggy hoofprints across the rug, Lancer asked, "Hey! So, uh, I know from law that there's meant to be a, uh, guard representative posted in every municipality in Equestria, to lead the militia in an emergency."

"Oh, I think so!" the mare nodded.

"Well, uh, I was wondering if I could speak to the officer in charge of that?" Lancer asked, flopping a waterlogged hoof onto the desk, much to the dismay of the receptionist.

Looking down at the rainwater spreading across the desktop, the receptionist grimaced before saying, "Uh, well, we had one like, three years ago? But he retired, and we never got a replacement."

"Oh. What about his subordinates?" Lancer pressed.

"He never had any. He was just, like, a sergeant or something. Mayor Mare just does most of the military work on her own now, whenever it rarely comes up," the mare shrugged, moving a forehoof over to wipe some of the water away before it spread onto her stack of papers.

"Huh," Lancer hummed, raising his hoof to his cheek. A spray of water from the sudden motion lancing across the receptionist's face and onto her papers, "Thanks. I'll uh, I'll go now."

The receptionist, blinking the water out of her eye as he walked away, grunted, "Right."

Shining Armor sat in his office, going through the daily correspondence. There were letters from the Crown office, letters from fellow regiments, from concerned public officials, and a few miscellaneous work related requests from individual soldiers.

Folding up another letter, a notification from the royal armories, he moved to file the letter away when a knock came at his door.

"Who is it?" he asked as he took out another letter and inserted his opener into its fold.

"Candy~" a familiar voice trilled from the other side of the door.

Shining Armor shot up from his chair, the legs scraping across the floor as he went to grab the door handle with his magic. However, the pony on the other side let herself in shortly after, catching him flustered over her arrival.

Princess Cadance giggled as Shining blushed, walking inside and shutting the door behind herself, "How's it going, Shiny?"

Shining Armor collapsed back onto his chair with a huff, "I told you, we need to stop seeing each other when I'm on duty. I don't want to be seen as a slacker."

"I won't interfere," Cadance grinned, hoisting herself up onto the side of Shining's desk, "What'cha doing?"

"Correspondence," Shining said simply, slicing through the rest of the envelope with the letter opener and extracting its innards, "What are you doing?"

"Checking up on my coltfriend, what else?" she paused, before adding defensively, "I was in the area and kinda bored. Is that really wrong?"

"If rumors start spreading around that you're hanging around me in my office, then ponies are gonna start talking. I want to earn my position, I don't want to just get pushed around in the big political game. I earned the Captaincy," Shining sighed, unfolding the letter and skimming it, "It's nothing against you, I promise."

Cadance, fortunately, seemed more or less understanding, "Well, okay. But try and make yourself more available, I hate only seeing you like.. once a week."

"Uh huh," Shining Armor realized he wasn't reading the letter in front of him at all and started over from the beginning, "Hey. You remember L-C Lancer?"

"The depressed guy?" Cadance asked casually, shifting over and craning her neck to look at the letter, "What's he doing?"

"Yeah I got his psychiatrist's note like, a few days late," he muttered, disappointed, "Meant to be at the end of the month and no later."

"Well what's the note say?" Cadance pressed.

"I'm less upset cause of the contents. The psychiatrist says that he showed a surprising amount of openness in their talk and says that his hopes were high for improvement," Shining Armor said, before reaching into the envelope again and taking out a second paper, "He wrote a note to me as well, it looks like."

"Mhm?" Cadance muttered, eyes wandering out the window in boredom.

Shining Armor read in silence for a while, before frowning, "Hmm... is it now..." unprompted, he got up and walked out of the room.

Cadance raised an eyebrow, "Hey! Where are you going?" as the door swung shut behind him without response, she crossed her forelegs and raised her voice, "HEY!"

As no response continued to come, she turned back towards the desk. Curiosity burning within her, she decided there probably wasn't a law against royalty reading military correspondence. Picking it up, she gave one more look back towards the door, before looking down and reading the letter in full.

Captain Shining Armor,

I have had significant improvements in my mental state since moving to Ponyville for this vacation period. My late girlfriend left me a house and I have taken to repairing the significant damage it has taken over the years. Going through her things has helped me come to terms with things finally, a fact which I relayed to the psychiatrist.

I recently corresponded with the leadership of the town in order to speak to the commander of the local guard. However, I was informed that the previous guard officer retired from his position several years ago. As I know I have very few friends in the Canterlot Guard and due to my newfound connections in the town, I would like to inquire about the status of a replacement officer for Ponyville. If the discrepancy is solved, I would like to submit to be joined as part of the local guard force.

Regards, Lance-Corporal Midnight Lancer

The door opened, causing Cadance to jump slightly and fold the letter. Shining Armor frowned as he closed the door behind himself again, "You know reading official correspondence like that is a crime, right?"

"I'm pretty sure I count as a public official of exceedingly high rank," Cadance pointed out, grinning, "So where were you going?"

"Just checking with the records department," Shining muttered, moving around the desk and sitting down, "Ponyville's one of the least administrated areas of the Canterhorn Province, but I'm still surprised we don't have any of our guys down there. It's right next to the Everfree Forest, the townsfolk have probably just had to organize their own ad hoc posses whenever monsters wander out to haunt the fields."

"So, you gonna fix it?" Cadance asked, putting the letter back down on the desk next to the opened envelope.

Taking the dropped letter and filing it away on top of a dedicated stack, Shining shook his head, "I won't have anyone of the right rank here in Canterlot who'll volunteer for something like that. I'll have to message some of the other regiments and ask them to spare a commissioned officer."

"Why don't you just promote the guy who sent the letter?" Cadance suggested, leaning over slightly.

Shining frowned, "His performance is alright, but to command the post he needs to be commissioned. I can't just give those out, he needs a few more years of good performance."

"I can give him a royal commission," Cadance pressed, smiling slightly.

He narrowed his eyes, "...Why?"

"Think about it. Did he ever say he hated his life in the city? He inherited a house out there, sure, but why's he going out of his way to get posted to the middle of nowhere?" Cadance said, moving a forehoof to prop herself up as she leaned all the way sideways to catch her coltfriend's eyes.

"Agrarian idyllism?" Shining Armor shrugged.

"Could be, but... nah, he's clearly found his true love and doesn't want to come home to Canterlot," Cadance's smile turned into a grin.

"And you know this... how?" the guard captain frowned.

"I'm literally the Princess of Love."

"Fair, but still. You're going to stick your neck out for this guy just off of that?"

"Auntie Tia defied the Unicorns by taking over the sun. Promoting one guy is probably less risky to pursue destiny. After all, you said he had good performance reports right?"

"Mmh- well, it's my reputation as well."

"We're just solving a problem with there being no guard representation in a remote village. If he performs badly, just demote him and replace him. Give him a chance and just... throw the idea his way," Cadance finished, sitting up once again, "Have I been wrong so far?"

Shining Armor sighed, before giving a slight smile and nodding. Charging his horn, he took a paper and inserted it into his typewriter, "No. No you haven't."

As the last of the summer storms disappeared over the horizon, the world became colder. Treetops became brighter as green seemed to slowly forsake the world. Leaves blew in with the wind from the Everfree and from the orchards, carpeting the ground in a crunchy, mulchy surface. Town became quieter and quieter as more and more ponies left their errands to work the fields and haul in the harvests.

Without any crops to sell until the end of harvest season, the farmer's market became rather sparse. One of the few exceptions was the flower stand. It was the Flower Fillies' motto that there was never a bad day, season, or year for flowers. There was always something that bloomed, no matter the time, and allowing others the opportunity to stop and peruse at any time (other than night of course) was a service worth the long hours.

Still, the relative lack of hoof traffic left a lot to be desired in terms of business at these times. They usually made it back come springtime for Hearts and Hooves day, but with autumn being on the opposite end of the year it was difficult. Thus, while the other two fillies were out on other business, Roseluck minded the stall on her lonesome, sitting back in a chair with a borrowed library book and a spritzer full of water sitting on the counter next to her.

Interrupting the calm billow of the breeze and the passing sounds of the town was the sounds of wing flaps and hoofsteps, leading right up to the counter. Her years in customer service instantly clued her in, and she jumped to attention at a speed that would make a drill sergeant blush.

"Gah!" the customer yelped as Rose reared up and plonked both of her hooves on the counter.

"Hiiiii! Welcome to the Flower Trio Garden Florists! How can I help you today?" she beamed.

"Uhhh..." the black pegasus stallion hesitated, cowering slightly from her, "...Flowers?"

"What kinda flowers are we lookin' for?" Roseluck pursed her lips and scanned the stallion. Flyboy, nervous, looking like he wanted to run away at any moment... yep definitely a romantic, "Something for a special somepony, maybe?"

"Er, uh-" the stallion's eyes darted around, "...Maybe?"

"So what kinda maybe special somepony flowers do you need?" Roseluck leaned forward and looked down at the flowers, "We got Dhalias if you're feeling vanilla, Chrysanthemums if you're feeling like a spelling bee, Goldenrod if you're feeling like giving her a nice snack..."

The stallion swallowed hard, pretending to look at the flowers indicated and consider them, although he was clearly just following her own gaze as she looked at Cock's Comb when she talked about Goldenrod. Eventually, he murmured, "Well, uh, they all look very nice..."

"Let me guess, you'd like my suggestion?" Roseluck gave him a knowing wink.

Flustered, he shook his head, "N-No. I want to pick something out, uh..." he looked around some more at the displays, "What's this one?" he asked, pointing at a bush of pink and purple flowers.

"Hydrangeas. It signifies to somepony that 'you're the beat of my heart'," Roseluck sighed, putting her hooves over her heart, before pausing and pouting slightly, "Or at least that's what that Neighponese poet once said. The Buffalo say something like 'drink this and you'll pass your kidney stones in no time'."

The stallion gave her a horrified look, before pointing towards a set of bright orange flowers nested on a bush in a pot.

"Oh those are very popular! Black-Eyed Susans they're called. They originate off in the islands, but they began to sell them everywhere," Roseluck nodded vigorously, "In fact it sold so well that they escaped into the wild and began strangling native plant species to death!"

"Oh..." the stallion frowned, looking at the flowers again, this time taking a minute or so in silence.

Roseluck's face fell slightly, and she eventually dropped the airy demeanour, "Hey, bud, it's not like I have a ton of customers so it's not like you're holding anything up, but I have, like, a ton of experience in picking the right flowers. How about we just make this quicker for the both of us and you take my suggestion. I promise you they'll like it or I'll give your money back."

The stallion winced, before finally relenting, "Yeah, okay. Uh... what do you suggest?"

"Entirely depends on the context!" the florist beamed again, "Is it a he or a she? Generally I've seen more flowers bought for shes than hes but it can go either way. Is it like 'hey let's go on a first date' kinda flowers, or 'I'm sorry I spilled coffee all over your dad's new shirt' kinda flowers?"

The stallion grew sullen, drawing in a deep breath, "She, and... yeah, the latter. Though it wasn't a coffee, it was more just me not really realizing what I had right in front of my face and being a big dumb idiot and stuff."

Pretending to nod understandingly, Roseluck looked down at the flowers and picked up an arrangement of Dahlias, "Dahlias are a really good pick. They're not too aggressive, but they're still touching and vibrant. Perfect for a feeling of sincerity. Also, I think the pinks and cerises will fit perfectly," the rose on her flank itched slightly, "I just got a good feeling."

The stallion took a deep breath and nodded, "Okay, yeah. Sounds good. How much for those... and uh... this arrangement of Nerine as well?"

With the arrangement in hoof being spritzed up by a spray of fresh water to vitalize them, Roseluck said, "Fifteen bits for the two of them."

"Oh, and uh... I was looking for the Apple stall around here... but I couldn't find it," he added as he fished out his bit purse.

"The Apples don't run their stall during this season. They open a baking stall after the harvest and the Running of the Leaves, though," Roseluck said offhoofedly, giving over the first arrangement and taking the Nerines from its pot and freshening it up as well.

"Dang, I wanted to make some pies that were a bit better than the bake mix in the store..." he said, wilting slightly.

Roseluck huffed, giving him a slightly incredulous look, "Damn, colt, just go ask them at their farm. I don't think I ever met a single pony in the world who was turned down by Granny Smith when given the opportunity to enlighten them on the 'ways of the Apple Pie' versus the store-bought stuff."

"Yeah, okay. I'll hit them up on my way home," the stallion took the two arrangements after sliding the bits across the countertop, "Thanks for your... help?"

"Hope everything goes well for you," Roseluck smiled, a bit more genuinely this time, "I really do."

"That makes two of us. See you later!" he waved with a wing, before turning and taking off.

A ways away from town, a humble red farmhouse sat at the top of a hill. The scent of fertilizer was thick in the air, and the hilly landscape of Ponyville was much less apparent as it was lost in fields of subtly swaying apple trees. Their leaves were still green for now, their fruiting time extended by earth pony hooves, but they wouldn't be that way for much long. There were still orange leaves patterning across the paths and alleys between the rows of trees, and every apple that wasn't picked was soon to fall out on its own to rot on the ground.

"Aw shoot, colt, you sure came to the right place," Applejack chuckled, hefting a filled box of produce onto the back of a wagon, "Can't get much fresher of an ingredient from here, that's for sure!'

"Yeah, well, I thought you wouldn't be selling because your stall wasn't open in town, but then the florist just told me to hop over to your farm and ask if you could sell me some of your stuff straight from the box," the stallion rubbed the back of his neck nervously, his saddlebags expertly hiding the slightly embarrassing floral arrangements within from the farmpony, "I understand if that, like, cuts into a contract or something. I-It's no big deal if I need to go to the supermarket, really..."

Applejack gave him a slightly insulted look, before shaking her head and brushing it off, "Hah! Well I guess this is your first year in Ponyville so news probably hadn't gotten around to y'all yet. We reserve a portion of our produce to sell to the town's businesses and to individuals. We get some wasteage, but it's well worth it for the mind and soul. Not like it ain't without its practical results either, keepin' in good faith with the town means they always got yer back. You need somethin like that to keep a farm running smoothly.

"Oh, uh, right. Yeah. That sounds really nice," he nodded, "I borrowed a cookbook from the library today, but I haven't really read it. How much do you think you'd need for a good sized apple pie?"

"7 Granny Smiths," she said automatically, "That there's the apple my gran named, o'course."

He frowned, eyes looking up to search his mind. He'd known the green apples as Granny Smiths as long as he had been eating fruits. It seemed rather far fetched that this random farmpony's grandmother named the entire breed, "Right, uh, well- how much?"

"Ah'll give ya ten for two bits," Applejack said, before turning around, leaning on a box, and adding, "And I'll make ya a special offer: stick around and have a chat and ah'll let you in on a little secret ingredient we put in ours to make it real special."

The pegasus already had his hoof in his bit purse by the time the price was named, "Sure? What do you wanna talk about?"

"Yer Lancer right? We met a few months back at Pinkie's party and at the market stall?" she asked.

Lancer nodded, taking out the two gold bits and holding it out, "That's me. Why?"

Taking the gold and placing it on the box next to her, Applejack hummed for a moment, "Y'all live in that old house a few miles down the trail? My lil sis Apple Bloom liked exploring in there and pretending she was an adventurer. Got a lotta scoldings for that, place's dangerous. Been seein' a ton of construction workers going to and fro. Must be a lotta renovations to make it a home again?"

"The whole roof, and a lot of the inside. Black mold and structural issues," Lancer grimaced.

"Hoo-wee! What a nightmare. That yer business in Ponyville, then? Fixing up that old place?"

"Kind of," Lancer admitted, "Why do you ask?"

"It's just- I dunno. All you city ponies tend to have some sorta big agenda when you come to a place like Ponyville. Y'all come to open a store, mine for tin down by the hills, build a new railway, or if yer richy rich ya come to build a vacation home. I can't quite figger what you're all about, is all," Applejack said, finally moving from her casual leaning posture and trotting over to a pile of canvas bags. Whipping the dust out of one, she began to select Lancer's apples from an open box of them.

"I'm with the guard, if that helps anything," Lancer tried, following her as she went about her business.

"Guards generally walk around in armor or go into the Everfree Forest to roll around in the mud. Ya some kinda undercover agent?" she laughed, tying off the drawstring around the apple bunch.

"I'm on leave. Though-" he hesitated for a moment, "Recently an... opportunity opened up that might see me in a permanent post here."

"Oh? Yeah I remember there bein' a permanent sheriff around here a while ago, but he bowed out," Applejack nodded.

"Yeah uh. I'm just a lance-corporal, but they're saying that there's such a shortage of people willing to come down here from Canterlot that they'd give me a commission- cause uh, Lieutenant is basically the lowest rank that can command a post like that," Lancer frowned, "Not sure why you need to know all that though. I'm not exactly sure why the brass would approve such a big commission, even with my commander's blessing, so it's probably gonna go nowhere."

"Wait. Yer from Canterlot, right?" Applejack narrowed her eyes, thought flashing in them for a moment.

"Mhm. Castle contingent..." he said, half-proud of the rank, half-nervous at the demeanour of the question.

"Shoot-dang. That's fancy. Isn't comin' down here a bit of a dead end?" Applejack raised an eyebrow.

Lancer frowned, "I guess. I dunno, I never really was in it for a big rank or anything though."

Applejack stared at him for a moment longer, seemingly scanning him up and down. Before the pegasus could get nervous, she shrugged, "Well. Doesn't matter to me if yer secretly Princess Celestia herself. Out in the countryside, it ain't fences and city blocks deciding who's a neighbor and who isn't. Yer on the same compass direction from the town square, which means yer as good as a neighbor to me. If ya ever need help with anything, don't be afraid to come and call, okay?"

Lancer hung his head slightly, giving a chuckle.

"What?" Applejack raised an eyebrow.

"You know, it's just- everypony I've met around here is so damn nice. First that pony that baked me my favorite cake for my not-birthday, then the engineer who worked below rate for my house, and..." Lancer trailed off, rolling his tongue in his mouth thoughtfully.

"Well, ah'm glad the town hasn't let us down by treating you badly. I don't intend to break the pattern, Mr. Lancer," Applejack gave him a warm smile, which the stallion managed to return. Suddenly, she perked up a with a start, "Right! Yer secret ingredient. Hang around here for a while, okay?" she said, hoofing over the requested apples and taking off at a sprint for the farmhouse.

"Okay..." Lancer watched her go, fidgeting slightly. Fortunately, he wasn't left alone for long, as she quickly reemerged with a small dropper, like the ones his mother would use to drop sour-tasting cold medicine on his tongue. The glass of the dropper was smoked, but he could see some sort of colorful liquid swirling inside.

"Here ya go! Mix the contents of this in with your pie filler," she said as she proffered it to him.

Taking the dropper, he frowned and sniffed at it. There was a fruity smell wafting from it that ended with a spicy feeling tickling his nostrils, "...This isn't, like, drugs is it?"

"Heck no! Would I really do that?" she asked.

Lancer bit back a remark about how he didn't really know her well enough, and simply nodded and gave a thankful smile, "Thanks a lot, Miss Jack. I'll see you around, okay?"

"That's Applejack to you, Lancer. See ya when I see ya," Applejack nodded, tipping her hat to him.

With that, he turned and flew.

Ponyville Cemetary lay far out of town, near the edge of the White Tail Woods. The sun was setting at the end of the day and the constant breeze of the day persisted as the orange-pink sky was kept clear. No houses were nearby, only the small chapel and cottage for the groundskeeper. All that surrounded the area were fields of green, cutting into orange grain in the distance.

There were many headstones across the yard. Some were older than others. Some were decaying and old. This one was basic, still fresh in a field of trimmed grass. A set of flowers adorned the space where the stone met the ground. Made out of a single block of granite, three lines etched on the front.

STARLIT BEACON

974 - 995
Rest in Peace

"When... when you first passed, I didn't know how to feel. I thought I would feel overwhelmed with emotions and grief, that I would lock myself away for months and cry, and don't get me wrong there was plenty of crying... but at no point did I feel like the crying had helped me come to... But... it was like, a big shadow had just started to follow me around. It would just drag me down every single day."

"It preyed on me every day of my life. Some days, I would just feel so angry... that it had all been taken away. Some days I would just cry and cry and cry. Some days, I would pretend you were still around. Every day I just felt disgusted at myself. For feeling angry, cause that was making it seem like I was the one suffering the most from your death. When I cried, I would be mad at myself for wasting my time. When I would write letters to you to pretend, I would feel stupid and childish. Then I would feel mad at myself for being mad at myself because it made me the center of all the attention... and it'd start all over again."

"The therapist the other day asked me a really tough question. If I travelled back in time and met you again... would I fall in love with you again? I really spent a long time thinking about that. Usually I think that kind of question would be kinda just stupid. The past's the past, you know? I don't have a magical steam wagon that can go to 88 miles per hour to zap me back in time. But... I realized it really means more than time travel hypotheticals."

"When you were alive, I was happy. I really was. I loved you with my everything. I wanted to spend my everything with you. But then it all stopped, and I couldn't stop regretting... everything. I realize now that I would have a really really hard time going back and doing it all over again... no matter how many times I wished you were alive. If I got into the DeWagonian and travelled back in time... tried to stop the cancer... maybe it wouldn't work, then I'd have to go through it all again. I don't think I could be happy like that again."

"I- I hope you get what I'm saying.. cause I feel like that hypothetical's sorta coming true. I've met this mare. Her name is Cheerilee. You'd like her. She's smart, funny, beautiful... and really, really kind. I think I love her. I turned her down, though. At first I thought it was because I was gonna leave Ponyville, and it just wouldn't be a healthy relationship... but then I realized that the guard just wouldn't be worth giving up that kinda stuff. Fortunately it's all worked out on the work end, but regardless I realized it was because... I just couldn't let myself go through that again."

"I just couldn't imagine myself being happy again. I'd feel ashamed at myself being happy. I'd rather stay where it's dark and comfortable, in an old crumbling house..."

...

"'Coming to terms' is a funny phrase, you know? It makes me think of a war, where one side is convinced to stop fighting and comes over to 'discuss terms' and surrender. I'd fight any amount of bad guys for you, Starlit, you know that... but then I read your last message. I... I dunno if you really meant all that... but..."

"I guess I'll never know. I guess I'll always be beating myself up. I guess I'll always have days where I just sit and cry. I guess I'll always be dreading making connections. But... that's not anything you can change. You're... kinda dead, you know? I mean, of course you know. You're the dead one after all. But uh, I've come to realize that maybe that's just going to be me. Maybe that's just what I'm going to deal with... but it shouldn't stop me from being happy."

"I think.. I think it's time to come and discuss terms, Starlit. I think it's time I surrender."

A knock came from the door.

Carrot Top looked up from her newspaper, sighing as she reached down and let down the hoofrest. The recliner sprang back into an upright position as she folded up her reading material and put all four hooves on the floor.

Another knock came at the door, this time more insistent.

"I'm coming, keep your shirt on!" Carrot Top shouted, walking through the entrance hall towards the door. Undoing the deadbolt, she opened it a crack.

Her neighbor stood on the porch. He smelled of cologne, had brushed his hair, and looked positively terrified. In fact, as Midnight Lancer laid eyes on her properly, he almost seemed to calm down, "Oh, hi Carrot Top."

"Whaddya want?" Carrot Top murmured cautiously.

"I'm uh... looking for Cheerilee... and I also got the picnic blanket and stuff that she left behind..." Lancer offered, holding up a bundle wrapped in the aforementioned blanket, "Is she home?"

"Not for another half an hour or so, no," Carrot Top frowned, reaching up to the chain lock that held the door ajar.

"Oh... I'll just, uh, come back then-" Lancer said, taking a step back.

Carrot Top pressed herself up to the doorjam, "Actually, why don't you come in for some tea? She won't be that long, and as long as you're here, right?"

Lancer managed a smile that she wasn't sure was a hundred percent genuine, "Oh no, you're too kind, really."

"Nah, it's a trap to let me talk to you one on one without Cheers around, and also to get my favorite water pitcher back," Carrot Top said bluntly, nodding towards the bundle, "I promise the tea is good though."

"I'm not that big on tea."

"Coffee?"

"Not that either."

"Hot chocolate?"

"...Sure."

With a smile, Carrot Top closed the door, undid the chain lock, and opened it again fully. She turned and walked to the kitchen, while Lancer continued inside and looked around curiously.

The two buildings were apparently built by the same architect. Inside, they had almost the exact same layout and dimensions, with the kitchen on the right, dining room on the left, and lounge further in past the stairs. The only difference was the existence of a few internal walls, with Lancer's house being more open plan.

The stove turned on, a kettle set to boil, and chocolate packets were retrieved from an upper kitchen cabinet. Carrot Top, procuring two mugs for them, asked, "So how's the house coming along?"

"They've finished re-roofing now. They finished tearing out all the infested walls and started putting in the new ones last week. Now they just need to resurface the floors and I'll finally be able to move back in," Lancer said, a hint of pride in his voice as he shifted over to sit down on a nearby bar stool.

"Move in? I thought you were going to leave Ponyville to go back to Canterlot," Carrot Top raised an eyebrow, looking back from her work at the counter.

"How did you- oh, I guess Cheerilee told you, huh..." Lancer wilted slightly.

"She's told me a lot of things about you. Info tends to travel when you split the rent," she dismissed, "You didn't answer the question though."

"Is it, um, really your business?" he asked, muzzle wrinkling.

"I suppose not," Carrot shrugged, "Just curious."

Lancer pursed his lips, before saying, "A job opportunity opened up, so I might stay after all."

"Well, you could definitely do worse than Ponyville for places to live," Carrot Top nodded, "Good community, the only problem really is the monster attacks."

"Monster attacks? I mean I guess this is the edge of the Everfree Forest, yeah. It's just been pretty peaceful while I've been here, is all."

"Eh. Ponyvillians are used to it. Occasionally some big creature will wander in from the forest, flatten some crops, smash up a barn or two, and then get run off by the town militia or get coaxed away by that animal whisperer that lives in the woods. You'll see one eventually, though they don't tend to come out to haunt until spring," Carrot Top sighed.

Lancer nodded along, slightly vacantly, "Right, so uh- what do you do?" catching himself, he immediately added, "You're a construction worker right?"

Carrot Top gave him a slightly annoyed look, "I'm a civil engineer. Or at least I'm apprenticing to do so. Might include doing actual construction later on, but I'm not an IR330C form yet."

"Right, so uh- bridges right?" he chuckled awkwardly.

"Yeah. Bridges," Carrot Top frowned. Her ear flicked as the kettle suddenly whistled. She reached for the handle as she continued, "Listen, about Cheerilee..."

"Oh colt..." Lancer murmured, folding his forelegs.

"Don't be scared. You haven't hurt her on purpose yet, so I'm not mad or anything," Carrot Top gave a slightly sly grin as she poured out the hot water into the prepared cups, the chocolate mix inside clouding up the water instantly, "In fact, she seemed really happy around you."

"She did?"

"Yeah," she said as she stirred in the mixture properly, turning the liquid brown, "She was pretty broken up about you turning her down. Not like, broken down and crying or anything, but you've definitely been on her mind recently."

"Oh," Lancer lowered his head slightly, tapping his forehooves on the stool side between his hind legs, "Uh, is that a bad thing?"

"Depends what you're here to do," Carrot Top said evenly, opening the fridge next for a carton of milk.

"I baked her a pie and got some flowers, to say sorry," Lancer said, looking down indicatively at his saddlebags. Indeed, there was a baked smell coming from them.

Pouring out the milk and mixing it in, Carrot Top nodded, "Well that's a good start. I hope everything goes well for you, Mr. Lancer. You seem like a decent guy, even if you're hesitant to show it sometimes," finally, taking two marshmallows from a jar on top of the fridge, she completed the mugs and held one out to Lancer.

"Thanks..." he said, looking down into his mug and taking a deep sniff. Then, raising it to his muzzle, he took a sip, "The weather's really pretty this time of year."

"It really is," Carrot Top said, pulling up another barstool to sit opposite Lancer, "I've been in Ponyville my entire life. Things are really, really slow to change around here. The town hall roof has needed some form of repair throughout all of my memory, the weather team dumps all of their water quota in clumps, power goes out whenever the wind blows too hard, and the Peach family never repair their own damn fences. One day, I'm gonna get my qualifications, and I'm gonna move out to Manehatten and build skyscrapers. Show that my line can do more than just grow carrots, you know?"

"Huh. I grew up in Manehatten," Lancer frowned, "Can't really imagine leaving this place to go live there. The rent is crazy."

"What's exciting is generally relative to where you grew up. Somepony who grew up in Seaward Shoals isn't going to find a long stretch of beach that relaxing," she reasoned.

"Not really. I think back to the apartment block I grew up in, the playground down the street, and the diner across the road... and I have nothing but good memories," Lancer smiled for a moment, before it faded and he raised an eyebrow, "Well, except for the high school. I don't have good memories of that place"

Carrot Top nodded along, "Maybe you're right, as much as I find this town to be dull... I don't think I'll ever really find it to be a dreary memory," she took a sip of her hot chocolate, before adding, "I guess there's always a little bit of everywhere you've been and experienced stuck in you, no matter how you felt about it."

Lancer's expression grew wistful, "Yeah, I know that kinda feeling real well..."

The front door opened with the suddenness that only a resident or a thief could be casual enough to use. Lancer shifted on the seat, looking towards the arch leading into the hall that connected to the front door.

"That you, Cheers?" Carrot Top called out.

"Yeah. Why'd you leave the door unlocked?" she asked, coming through the arch into the kitchen. Cheerilee, bag slung over her shoulder and fresh from a full Friday of work, stood and stared at Lancer, who stared back, heart thundering.

"Cause we have company," Carrot Top said coolly, taking one last sip of her hot chocolate and getting up from her seat, "I'll leave you two to it," with that, she made for the archway, turning left down the hall.

Lancer swallowed a lump in his throat as Cheerilee stood awkwardly by the doorframe. She reached up for the strap of her bag to place it on the counter next to her, keeping her eyes on him the entire time. Lancer mirrored the movement, taking off his own saddlebags and putting them on the countertop next to him, feeling for a moment the warmth of the pie inside through the fabric.

"Mr. Lancer," Cheerilee raised an eyebrow.

"...Ms. Cheerilee," Lancer said with a slight delay, a small bead of sweat forming on his forehead as he scanned the other mare as deeply as possible. Was she disappointed? No. Apprehensive? Definitely. It was hard to get a read on her. She seemed expectant, yet not overly happy to see him. She shifted back and forth on her hooves.

"What're you doing here?" she finally asked.

"I uh, brought you something..." Lancer turned to his bag, undoing the strap and taking out a tinfoil-wrapped pie. It had become slightly smushed from gravity tossing it around in his bag, which in hindsight should have been something he planned for. Still, he placed it on the countertop. Reaching in again, he brought the flowers, pausing to hold them in both forehooves.

"That's very kind of you," Cheerilee said, although her muzzle was contorted in a frown, "Why?"

Lancer tried to smile, though all that came out was a half-pained, half-suppressed expression, backed by grit teeth and wandering eyes. Looking down, he held out the flowers towards her, "I'm, uh, I'm sorry. About what happened a few weeks ago..."

Cheerilee raised an eyebrow, looking down at the flowers, then back up at the pegasus, "Okay."

It was definitely not the response he had wanted, but he pushed on anyway, "I uh, I bet I made you feel pretty bad... like I didn't care about all the kindness you showed me and stuff."

Her eyebrow raised further, which made the small beads of sweat on Lancer's forehead grow in size.

"U-Uh, w-well, I just uh, I talked to my CO, and they said that I might be able to take up a permanent position here, so a lot of my plans changed..." he took one of his hooves off the flowers to wipe his sweat.

Cheerilee's eyebrows returned to their neutral position, "Oh, well that's nice."

"I mean, yeah?" he blurted.

She rolled her eyes.

"Wait wait! I mean not yeah! Not yeah!" he quickly amended, reaching up and dragging a hoof through his mane as his wings unfolded slightly, "Not yeah. That's not the only reason. The only reason I asked them in the first place was..." he pursed his lips, "I should just be honest with you, okay?"

Cheerilee gave a faint grimace, but stayed silent.

That was as close to permission as Lancer was going to get. Taking a deep breath, he took his shot, "A few years ago... the love of my life... died, here in Ponyville. She used to live in that house, but now she's gone. I didn't let the house fall apart because I was... lazy, even though I did call myself that a lot. I- I did it because," he swallowed again, "I did it because I really hated myself. I hated how much I... felt for her, how she was gone, how unjust it was, and then I hated myself for hating myself. When I came back to Ponyville, I just wanted to do her justice and fix up her house. I thought it would make me... feel better about myself. I guess that meant I lied to you about the house as well, I would never have sold it or rented it out after they repaired it. I probably would've refused to come back to face the painful memories... and it would've just gotten worn down again.

"Then I met you. You were kind, smart, pretty, you helped me out when I was sorta just wallowing around... I returned your feelings, I really did. I realize now that.. that it wasn't work, o-or the house, or the dead that was going to make it difficult, it was me. I hated myself for wanting to love you."

He took a deep breath, raising a hoof to his throat as his eyes welled up with tears, "She had left me a letter. She said that if she died, the only thing she wanted was for me to be happy again. I went and talked to her, a-at the cemetery, yesterday. She'll always be with me, in my heart and mind, but beating myself up like I have been since she died, like I've been since I moved here... that was never for her sake. She can't care, she's dead. I was doing that for myself, I was selfish."

Looking back up at her, he removed his forehoof from its duty of batting away his own tears and placed it back on the bouquet, the moisture from the tears wetting the paper wrapping, "Cheerilee. You've shown me nothing but kindness, you've made me laugh, you're the most beautiful thing in Equestria. I'm so, so sorry for how I made you feel. Even if the stuff with work falls through- I'd rather quit so I could stay here with you."

Cheerilee's expression, at last, changed. Giving a smile that curved downwards ever so slightly at the ends, she said, "Oh, Lancer, I have to admit I was probably pretty selfish too. I was really afraid of rejection up there on the hill, even though it was... understandable. I should've known. I'm sorry too."

"No, no, I should've just said we could make it work, not framed it like... that..."

Cheerilee reached forward and gave Lancer a soft poke in the shoulder, "Hey! Are you going to accept my apology or what?"

Rubbing the spot he was poked in, Lancer chuckled a bit, "Only if you do mine is first. I came first."

Cheerilee smiled softly, "Apology accepted."

"Same," Lancer grinned, before reaching over to the counter, "Pie?"

Rolling her eyes and opening a drawer for a knife and a few plates, Cheerilee muttered, "Stallions, always thinking about food."

"I made that pie to apologize and I intend for it to be eaten solely by you!" Lancer poked her back, the only difference being that she didn't stop to rub the spot.

With a clatter of plates, the tin foil was peeled back and the crust sliced into with a knife. The brown, caramelized filling spilled out slightly as two slices were served. Spicy cinnamon scent filled the air, along with the smell of something else. Cheerilee frowned, leaning closer and sniffing intently.

"Yeah, uh..." Lancer grinned sheepishly, "There was a weird smell when it came out of the oven. I'm not sure, but I haven't really cooked apple pie before? Is it... alright?"

Cheerilee didn't answer, only taking a fork to her slice and taking a probative bite. After a moment, her eyes widened and for once in her life she spoke with her mouth full, "Zap apple jam!"

There was suddenly a clamor from around the corner as a yellow blur charged, slid across the floor, slammed into the cabinets on the opposite side of the room, before clambering back to her hooves, "ZAP APPLE JAM?" Carrot Top shouted, running over and snatching Lancer's plate from right in front of him.

"What's uh... what's Zap Apple Jam?" Lancer said nervously, watching the two mares taking more and more courageous bites of his pie. After a moment of reflection, he raised a hoof to his chin and mumbled, "Maybe I should visit those Apple ponies more often..."