Magic Mirror

It was a warm day, and there was no shade. Quibble Pants wished he'd worn his official Daring Do pith helmet to keep the sun at bay, but... he'd made a promise not to wear that hat in public anymore. The sun beat down on him from above, and his mane felt like a damp hot cloth sitting on top of his head. Luckily, though, the action on the field held enough of his attention that he didn't mind the heat.

"Getting into it now?"

Quibble jolted. He'd been staring again. Next to him, Clear Sky was watching him with a sly smile. He reddened slightly.

"I... uh, yeah, I think I'm starting to get the hang of how this game works..."

Clear Sky nuzzled his neck.

"I told you, you really don't have to try so hard," she said. "But you are sweet for trying."

"No, really," stammered Quibble. "I really do think I'm starting to figure it out..."

Clear Sky smiled again, and gave him a light peck on the cheek.

"You're so cute when you try to lie," she said. "Anyway, I missed lunch and I'm starving. I think I'm going to head to the snack bar and grab a hayburger or something. Want anything?"

"Um... a water would be nice..."

Clear Sky stood and walked off towards a makeshift concession stand at the edge of the field. Quibble sat on the bleachers watching her go, still feeling a bit flustered.

She hadn't been wrong: he absolutely was lying. He still had no idea how this game was played. Even after sitting through dozens of these practice matches and buying a book ("The Complete Moron's Guide to Buckball"), he was still no closer to discovering why so many ponies found the act of kicking a ball back and forth to be so damned interesting. Even the book had bored him. A book. Had bored him.

However, being caught in a lie was not why he'd gotten so flustered just then. He really had been watching the field quite intently, he just... hadn't been watching the game.

Out on the field, the foals continued to play their game. It was just a friendly practice match, not a competition or anything, but they were clearly giving it their all. Quibble's eye was once again drawn to one foal in particular.

At that moment, Clear Sky's daughter Wind Sprint was... well, Quibble still wasn't sure exactly what she was doing. She was doing whatever the pegasus on a buckball team was supposed to do. Kicking a ball back and forth until eventually it went into one of two baskets, it would seem. However, for Quibble, it wasn't so much what she was doing as how she looked doing it.

Watching Wind Sprint play buckball was something else. At home, she always seemed so glum and sour, or at least that was the way she behaved whenever Quibble was around. But out here on the field, it was like she suddenly came alive and started glowing. He watched her zip around the field, her little wings straining as she chased the ball back, her short-cropped mane flying behind her in the wind, her young body glistening with sweat...

Quibble jolted, shaking his head. He glanced guiltily around to see if Clear Sky had returned, but she was still over by the concession stand. He shook his head again. He really needed to stop thinking this way. Why couldn't he stop? He'd never had these kinds of thoughts about foals before. Why now, and of all the fillies he could have possibly noticed, why his special somepony's daughter?

He knew the answer, of course, but that didn't make things any better or easier.

The earth pony on the other team made a low pass. Wind Sprint dove to intercept it, her legs splayed out in front and behind her, and for just a split second Quibble had a full view of the underside of her body, including the little bumps of her undeveloped teats. He reddened a little and looked quickly away. He really needed to stop thinking like this.

Clear Sky was returning from the concession stand, a small tray of food and a couple of bottles of water floating in the glow of her horn. She smiled prettily when she saw him looking at her, and he waved. She was an absolute knockout, there was no question about it. She could look beautiful and graceful doing just about anything, even something as mundane as carrying a couple of hayburgers back to the bleachers at a foals' buckball game.

Quibble knew she was way out of his league. In the beginning he'd wondered if dating him was some kind of a dare that one of her marefriends had put her up to, but he no longer worried about stuff like that. They had only been together for a couple of months, but it was clear that she genuinely loved him. Even Quibble wasn't dense enough to miss that much. She'd even been willing to go to that Daring Do convention with him, and damned if he hadn't enjoyed the jealous looks he got from the other dweebs the whole time they were there. An absolute knockout of a mare was in love with him, and he couldn't stop ogling her prepubescent daughter. A daughter that hated his guts, no less. What the hell was wrong with him?

Again, he knew the answer, but...

"I'm back. Sorry I took so long." Clear Sky sat down next to Quibble. "I got you a hayburger, too. I figured you'd be hungry."

Quibble felt his stomach rumble, and accepted the hayburger gratefully. He hadn't even realized that he was hungry. Was this mare a catch, or was she a catch?

"Thanks," he said, and he meant it. He took a big bite out of the hayburger, maybe a little too big. An enormous glob of ketchup squirted out of the back and landed right on his shirt. Why did he always wear a shirt to these things?

"What did I miss?" asked Clear Sky, pointedly looking out towards the field and ignoring the mess he was making.

"Uh, well..." said Quibble.

His mind raced, trying to recall something, anything, from The Complete Moron's Guide to Buckball that he could use to answer that question. Preferably something that didn't involve photo-accurate descriptions of Wind Sprint's teats.

"Uh, well," he began again. "They, uh... they're really bucking that ball out there."

He glanced at Clear Sky to see if she'd bought it. She was watching him with a smirk on her face. She reached out with her hoof, running it slowly up the center of his barrel until it scooped up the glob of ketchup. Then, she brought her hoof to her muzzle and licked it off.

"You don't have to try so hard," she told him for the second time that day. Quibble grinned sheepishly. "But it makes me happy that you do."

She nuzzled her head against his neck, and Quibble felt the warmth of her body pressing up against his. Out on the field, he saw Wind Sprint hovering in the air, watching them. She scowled briefly, and then returned her attention to the game.

~~~~~~~~~~ Two Weeks Earlier ~~~~~~~~~~

Quibble wiped the sweat from his brow with a fetlock. Clear Sky's house was near the top of the hill, and lugging the wagon behind him didn't make the climb any easier. He stopped at the edge of the lawn, trying to catch his breath.

"Oh hi, Quibble, thanks for coming!"

He looked up to see Clear Sky standing at the front door. He smiled weakly at her, still wheezing.

Jeez, I'm just glad the kid isn't here to see this, he thought. The hill wasn't particularly steep, and the wagon was empty, but he'd still gotten winded making this climb. I really am out of shape.

He met Clear Sky halfway up the driveway, and the two of them embraced quickly.

"The stuff's here in the shed," she told him, leading him to a squat little outbuilding around the side of the house. "I've already got everything packed and ready to go, we just need to load it onto the wagon."

She opened the door, and Quibble saw about nine or ten boxes stacked in a neat little pile. He wondered how heavy all of it was going to be.

At least it will be downhill on the way back...

"So...what is all this stuff exactly?" he asked.

Clear Sky smiled, a little sadly.

"Oh, just some of Thundercloud's things," she said. "I haven't really gone through it, it's just... it's been over a year now. I need to start getting rid of some of this stuff, especially if you're going to move in."

Quibble laughed, a sharp, awkward chuckle that was not even remotely appropriate for the situation. He couldn't control it; it was just something he did when he was nervous. If Sky noticed, though, she didn't show it.

Her horn glowed, and with some apparent strain she managed to levitate one of the boxes into the air. Quibble watched her for a moment, and then with a bit of fumbling managed to heft one of the smaller ones onto his back, immediately feeling as though his legs would give out. He followed Sky outside, and heaved it onto the wagon he'd brought.

Thundercloud was Wind Sprint's father. Quibble didn't know all the details, but apparently he'd gone missing the previous year. It sounded like he'd had a pretty dangerous job, and a thorough search for him had turned up nothing, so at this point he was presumed dead. It was kind of a touchy subject, particularly for the kid, so Quibble tried not to pry into it too deeply. Still, though, it was a bit awkward for him, especially as things between he and Clear Sky had gotten serious enough that they were moving in together. "Presumed dead" didn't mean the same thing as dead, after all. If this guy suddenly showed up on their doorstep one day, wanting to get his family back, where exactly did that leave Quibble?

As he meditated on this, the two of them worked on moving the boxes out of the shed and into the wagon. Quibble did his best to act like a macho earth pony and go for at least a couple of the heavier boxes, but it was pretty clear that he was not used to physical labor. Clear Sky got most of them loaded using magic, and politely didn't call attention to Quibble's panting and wheezing.

"So," gasped Quibble. "Where am I taking all of this stuff, anyway?"

"Oh, there's a shop downtown that buys old junk," said Clear Sky. "Turn right at the bottom of the hill and follow the road until it intersects with the main street, the shop is on the corner. You can't miss it."

Clear Sky wiped her brow. Quibble noticed that the pale blue bandana she always wore around her neck was damp with sweat. Levitation was like physical work for unicorns, and Quibble felt a little ashamed that he'd made her do so much of the lifting.

I really need to start exercising, he thought.

If Sky was upset with him about it, though, she didn't show it. She leaned in and gave him a light kiss on the tip of his nose, and smiled sweetly.

"Thanks for doing this, honey," she said. "I doubt any of this stuff will sell for much, but whatever you get for it you can just keep. It's the least I can do for making you come all the way up here to lug it away."

Quibble's nervous tick struck again, and he laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with his front hoof.

"Oh, don't even worry about that," he said. "I'm happy to help out, really!"

Clear Sky smiled and kissed him again, a proper kiss this time.

"You're sweet," she said. "Anyway, I appreciate you coming out here to do this. I know it's right in the middle of the day, but I wanted to take care of this while Wind is at school. I thought it might upset her to see her father's things being carted away."

Quibble continued to rub his neck nervously.

"Is she still, uh..."

Clear Sky nodded, her smile fading a little.

"Yes, she's having a pretty rough time with all of this. She and her Dad were close."

Quibble could only nod and continue scratching his neck. Clear Sky smiled and gave him a little hug.

"Anyway, I really do appreciate this. Oh, by the way, you might want to go through some of those boxes before you take them downtown. Thundercloud actually had a pretty impressive book collection."

"Book collection?"

Quibble's ears pricked up. Suddenly he didn't look quite as exhausted as he had a moment before. Clear Sky giggled.

"Guess I know how to motivate you," she said, booping him lightly on the nose. "Feel free to keep anything that strikes your fancy. Anyway, you should probably get going, Wind is going to be home from school any minute."

"All right," said Quibble, strapping himself into the wagon's harness again. "See you later this week?"

"Sure. We're still on for drinks on Friday, right?"

"Absolutely! You know, I was thinking, instead of just drinks, all three of us could go out for dinner. You wouldn't have to call a sitter, and we could go someplace nice, someplace that Wind might like--"

"That's probably not a good idea," she said gently. He hesitated, but then he nodded. She booped him again. "She's still getting used to the idea of you living with us. She'll warm up to you eventually, don't worry. You just have to give her some time."

Quibble nodded again.

"Okay," he said, a little reluctantly.

They said their goodbyes, and Quibble began the slow and laborious process of tugging the loaded wagon back down the hill and into town.