PiE/HiE Short Stories - The Earth/Equus Treaties

New Beetlejak, U.S.A | Out-2-In Immigration Services, 3rd Floor Offices

"You sure you're busy tomorrow?" Sandy Shoals suddenly cuts in front of him, trotting directly into his path and folding one hoof over the other, blocking his way. She even shakes her head a little, trying to give her meticulously cared for, voluminous mane some bounce as she stares up at him, batting her lashes.

"You know I am, Sandy, Cassie's got her piano lessons." Pete lifts his bag over her, slinging it onto his shoulder while carefully stepping around her self-imposed, waist-high roadblock. The feigned pout only lasts until the moment he's gotten around her before she's trailing right after him, hooves to his heels. It's a weak excuse, and Sandy knows it, but it gets a momentary pass.

"Well, what about Sunday then?" Sandy keeps pressing, slipping around beside him, expertly avoiding tripping him despite how closely she sticks to him. She's far too used to sticking to him at this point, and she's equally unrelenting as they slowly work through the office, making their passing goodbye's as everyone starts to head out for the weekend, spirits relatively high at chatter and weekend plans surround their ears.

"I..." Pete goes, almost instinctively to deny her, but... nothing comes to mind. He doesn't have any plans on Sunday, and Sandy realizes that he's hesitated for too long. Her eyes practically light up the room with how they sparkle, capitalizing on his pause. She swings around in front of him, screeching to a halt, hooves out in a braced, excited position.

"Sunday?" Is all she says, a wide smile sat on her face knowing she's won.

Pete sighs, nodding.
"Yes, Sunday."

The moment he relents, Sandy is practically hopping around in place, before bolting towards the elevator, squeezing past coworkers in excitement.
"See you Sunday!" She shouts, disappearing around the corner, completely forgetting that Pete is her ride.

Pete shakes his head, chuckling to himself while trailing after her. He takes his time, double-checking he's got everything, even adding a little meander to his pace, all just to add to the inevitable bashful face she's making as she's waiting for him, stood beside his car just outside the office in the parking lot.

"Oh, hey Sandy. Must be Sunday alr--" Pete starts to tease, but Sandy just cuts him off, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Very funny."

His grin persists as the car unlocks, both piling in. She's gotten quick with the door handle, already sitting shotgun by the time Pete tosses his bag in the backseat.

He's been her ride back home for the last few months now. She lives in just the right place to have an awkward level of transit for herself, needing to take an awkwardly long, out of the way route that'd leave her late every morning. So, Pete drives her home each day. It's not too far from his usual way to and from work, so it's not much of an issue, turning down her attempts to pay him for it.

As they pull out of the parking lot, Pete glances over, looking at that excited smile that sits on her face as she leans on the window, watching the buildings pass by. Sandy looks a lot happier then she did back when she started.

Back when Sandy got hired, Beetlejak hadn't quite adapted to having Ponies on their side of the portal just yet, especially for long-term living. Everything was still built around humans, human height, and human limbs, leaving most Ponies who lived on Earth full-time to have a fairly difficult time adapting. Nudity was frowned upon, but nobody sold clothes scaled for Ponies, was just one of the many issues that Pete remembers in the news headlines for that time.

Sandy was a diversity hire to work as a receptionist for a newly-merged Immigration office that Pete got involved in when his previous office got absorbed into it, a result of part of a guaranteed workforce pact to ensure that no Ponies coming over from Equestria would go without work or the means to provide for themselves. This was... received in a few different ways by a few different people. Despite all these hurdles, Pete still clearly remembers Sandy's first day.

He can't think of a single person as beaming, bubbly and peppy as this pony was when she started. She found nothing but obstacles waiting for her, yet, she never let it stop her. Sandy wasn't even in his department when he started, and he only got to know her when she wandered into the wrong unit, trying to find the printer.

Pete never thought just showing some... colorful, Halloween-costume looking creature how to use a printer would result in such a heavy life-shift. Ever since then, she's found his way over towards his desk, greeting him with a smile. Apparently, whoever she got tagged with to train her was a bit of a slacker, and didn't really teach her much, leaving her confused and trying to figure out strange, foreign technologies. Without knowing too many other people in the office, she kept coming back to the one person who was actually willing to show her how things worked. Which was Pete. He'd start seeing Sandy waiting for him at the printer, the water station, the lunch room... usually with questions about things, but once she figured out how things around the office worked, the questions turned to things outside the office.

Turns out, yeah, being an interspecies interplanetary immigrant really wasn't that easy, even when working at an immigration office.

Still, having an actual Pony in-office helped lean the place towards hiring more, making a few changes, and shifting resources around to cater towards incentivizing Ponies to immigrate to Earth. Took a while, though, and the place had it's fair share of hurdles.

Like office lunches. The first time they catered something out to celebrate some... team morale building or something that Sandy was actually there for, the issue wasn't that there wasn't anything that she couldn't eat... it's that nothing was left for her to eat. By the time she finished up her paperwork and got around to the lunchroom, they only thing left was paper plates and napkins. Pete hadn't had anything to eat yet, getting in late from a meeting, so he made a simple offer. Go get some lunch with him.

To Pete, the intention was just being nice. To Sandy... this invitation was a bit of a shift in their dynamic, because 'just lunch' isn't what happened. Pete got a call while they were out, in the middle of eating at a fast-food parking lot. His kid got into trouble at school and he had to swing by to pick them up. The school was in the complete opposite direction of his work, a massive detour that would dent both of their work schedules, or leave his kid stewing in the principles office as he dropped Sandy off, then went back for her, and had an entire extra day of work on his lap.

So, Sandy offered to go with, assuring him it was fine, despite some apparent disappointment about something she wouldn't clarify. While Pete wasn't entirely comfortable revealing so much of his personal life to a coworker, he relented.

And then Cassie, his young girl with an adoration for horses and dress up, saw a colorful, wide-eyed, smiling pony wearing people clothes walk in with her dad. He doesn't even remember what Cassie got in trouble for. All he remembers is how Cassie practically exploded with glee, hugging Sandy suddenly. He didn't even get a chance to try and get Cassie off of her, Sandy hugging her back, both of them looking at Pete with wide, excited, sparkling eyes.

"You have a PONY?!" Cassie squeals.
"You have a DAUGHTER?!" Sandy also squeals.
Completely surprised by the others existence, they devolved into an excited babble about the other while firmly clamped to the other, absolutely smitten. Complimenting each-others hair, asking every possible question under the sun... if it wasn't for the principle staring at Pete without a trace of amusement, it would have been a pretty cute scene.

And ever since, Sandy wants to visit and see Cassie whenever she can, and Cassie asks each day if Sandy is coming over.

Cassie's mother is... out of the picture, and hasn't been in it for a long while. Sandy seemed surprised to hear that, and ever since, Sandy coming over at some part of the week, every week, has practically become routine for them. It's... sweet, but it comes with a few awkward hurdles.

It's also weird having two different people so excited to see him two times in a day. When he gets home, his daughter rushes to bother him to play with her dolls, ecstatic that he's home again. But when he gets to work, the way that mare smiles at him, slipping out from around her desk to chat and walk him to his...

"Daaaad! Where's the Pony?!" Cassie would harumph and tantrum, crossing her arms in rebellious, childish disbelief when it turns out he arrives home alone. The terms and conditions of being conditionally loved by your child. Did you bring her favorite pony home? No? Too bad, Daddio, no love for you.

Ever since they met, no matter how hard Pete tried to return his situation to the norm with excuses, either Sandy would ask him relentlessly about hanging out, or Cassie would pester him with childlike persistence that bore no end until he agreed to bring Sandy over, or go out to do something with Sandy and her. The two absolutely adore each-other, which was... nice, since Cassie had been lacking a female role-model for some time now.

Though, as of late, Sandy had been asking Pete about going out after work more often... with just the two of them. He's not entirely sure what that's about, but she's hardly bad company, so he rarely says no. Nor can he say no, the way she navigates his excuses and attempts to segway the conversation until she catches him in a lapse of hesitation that he can't say no to. Like this coming Sunday.

"What did you have in mind this Sunday, anyway?" Pete asks, drawing back from his thoughts and back to the present.

"Well, everypony is going drinking this Saturday... except a certain somepony." She mentions, turning her attention away from the passing scenery, poking an accusatory hoof towards him.

Pete rolls his eyes.
"Every second Saturday, Cassie goes to her piano lessons, remember? You're the one that got her into them, showing off at that one restaurant we went to." Pete brings up, eliciting a nose-scrunching frown from Sandy.

"I rememberrrrr." Sandy huffs. Hard to forget. Sandy took years of piano in her youth, or her 'fillyhood' as she called it, and couldn't help but spring on the open, empty one sitting in the middle of the cafe they stopped at, accidentally inspiring his daughter with a new hobby. Her whiny tone reminds him why her and Cassie get along so well. "Even it is for a good reason, I suppose a young, vulnerable mare will have to partake in drinks... alone... without her usual chaperone." She drolls on, lifting a hoof to her forehead.

"Yup. Sucks for you, inspiring Cassie and all." Pete snorts, Sandy breaking character at his lack of guilt.

"Yeah, yeah. But you'll go the next time there's an office-wide outing, right? No wiggling out of it. No excuses. No appointments." She says pointedly, hardly asking.

"If it doesn't fall on a Sunday, taking what little free time I've got left... sure." Pete groans, forced to relent. He was getting too old for that shit, but Sandy wasn't going to give it up until he caved.

"Yes! Good. Okay." She stokes the flames of her own triumph with a hoof-pump, though it proves short lived as she speaks up again right after.
"But, uh... small question. Minor one, really. Itty bitty."

Couldn't be anything worse than dragging him out to a party.
"Shoot." Pete prods, glancing over.

"Could I... actually, nevermind."

"Hmm?" Pete frowns.

"Don't worry about it." She waves a hoof, looking out the window.

"Don't do that, Sandy. Just ask it." Pete tsks, already expecting the worst.

"You sure?" She peeks over, as if nervous.

"You asking me for my kidney or something?"

"No! Nothing like that. Wait, would you give me it? Really?"

"Sandy, focus."

"Sorry. Uh... what time is Cassie's piano lessons again?"

"Middle of the day. No, that doesn't mean I have time after. I've got other errands to run."

"Okay, okay. But... I'm trying to word this right. Could... I call you? If I need to?" She asks quietly.

Doesn't take Pete very long to figure out what she's asking really. Young women or young mare, their world's a little different, especially when going out or drinking is involved. He doesn't expect much to come of it though.

"Yeah, don't see why not." Pete nods. "Just text me where you're all going beforehand."

She fidgets until he pulls up the next red light, Pete blinking in surprise as she leans across the seat, wrapping her hooves around his arm.
"Thanks, Pete." She says warmly, humming softly.

"Sandy. Driving." Pete reminds, nodding forward as the light flicks back to green.

"Oop--right, sorry." She quickly clambers back to her seat. "But still. Thanks."

"Sure, sure."

It doesn't take much longer to reach a familiar street, Pete pulling in to park in front of Sandy's apartment complex. Giving him another, not-middle-of-driving hug, she shuts the door behind her, Pete waiting until she's inside before pulling off again.

...

Admittedly, she's only been at it for a couple weeks, but... yeesh. The clangs, bangs and loud thumps of off-tune piano are only warded from Pete's ears by his earbuds, playing his much-preferred, classic rock tunes. Head tilted back, his foot jostles along with the beat, eyes roaming the ceiling as he waits. The waiting room outside the studio Cassie goes to for her lessons was cozy, if a touch small. Another parent sits across at another chair, reading a book, though she looks... a lot snootier, probably here to teach her kid some high-brow, fancy piano, the way she throws snide looks towards Pete. Not like he really cares.

Two hours, every second Saturday. Not enough time to go do something, he'd prefer to just wait it out rather than drive back again or something. He debates on catching a nap, until his pocket vibrates. Brow raised, he rifles it out of his pants, squinting at the screen.

Notification. Text notification. Sandy. Why is she...?

Ah. Riiiiight, the office outing. The little blurb-bubble pops up as Pete opens it, scrolling past their previous conversations, mostly pertaining to meeting times and how-are-you's.

...Now that Pete looks at it, she uses the heart emoji a lot. Hm.

Hey!! Going to Bunko's Bar & Grille! The one off 58th Ave. You sure you're not coming? Won't be as fun without you! Tyler, Miranda, Sprinkle-Berry and Charles are coming too! - Sandy

She won't be the only Pony there, so that's good. Charles and Miranda are pretty good folks too, so he doesn't have much to worry about. Doesn't know this Tyler though. Pete starts typing back, holding his phone at a distance and squinting at it. He needs to do that font-size-increase thing when he remembers to.

At first when they started texting, Pete wondered how a creature with hooves figured out proper grammar when texting. When prompted, she explained she found out about the voice option, and uses it for as absolutely everything that she can. So for the last Christmas, outside of their company's little Secret-Santa, Pete may have gotten her a bluetooth ear-clip thingy that he saw in a commercial to connect with her phone, so she didn't have to worry about rummaging it out first when she wanted to use the voice software-stuff. He hasn't seen her at work without it ever since. Half the time, she brings it with her on their out-of-work outings, too. Pete was pretty proud of that one.

I know the one. Be safe, have fun.

A simple enough reply, but Pete's never been too wordy over text. Nor does he really get into the hyphenations and short-variations of words for speed-texting, but that's --

His phone vibrates again.

Won't have as much fun as I could be having without you! Enjoy piano lessons, and tell Cassie I said hi! <3

Will do.

With that, Pete checks the time, and how much sitting around he's got left to do. It's... Twelve-Thirty, which means another hour and a half. Fun.

What games did he have on this thing... ooh, Tontris.

...

Vrr. Vrr.

Pete snorts awake, squinting at the source of his sudden, rude interruption to his slumber.

What the...? Ugh. What time was it?

Piano lessons, MareDonalds, dinner... put Cassie to bed despite her whining about the lack of Sandy... right. Sandy. Sandy?
His crusty-eyed, still-adjusting bedbound gaze wanders to his end table to the source of his rude awakening. His phone is an unwelcome, harsh beacon of light and nuisance, vibrating loudly against the tabletop.

Pushing himself up and out, he swings his feet over his bed, fumbling for it.

One thirty in the morning. Jesus, Sandy. He squints at the bright light, trying to read.

Two much to spink, need. No phone, to. Too. There we go. Wait, S
Spink. Ha. Need visit. Hi. Forgot to say hi. Hi Pete. Heart. No, the emoticon. Heart. No. Heart. Whatever. Pete is smart, he'll know. Hi Pete.

A long, winding groan slowly wheezes it's way out of Pete's tired, understanding lungs as his hand drags across his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Everything okay, Sandy?

He waits a moment, sighing to himself. He signed up for this.

Yeah! Wait, no. We had fun and I had lots and lots and lots to drink. Oh, only one lots. Wait... too late. Back. Back up. Bungalow.

Pete blinks. After a pause, it keeps doing.

Pete. Nopony left. No. Everypony left, just Sandy now. Can't find my purse. They're closing. Can get me?

Of course.

Please, pretty. Wait, pretty please. Not that you're not pretty. You are. But also please. Bungalow. Heart. The emoticon. Heart. No, the little picture. Stupid phone. Heart. I'm just gonna use... hooves.

With a grunt, Pete pushes himself off the bed, looking for his pants.

■3

That was certainly an attempt.

Before he goes, dressed in something casual and quickly thrown on, he peeks in on Cassie. She's dead asleep in her bed, snuggling one of her fifteen four-legged plushes. Be right back, kiddo.

...

Bunko's... Bunko's... he keeps it slow as he turns into the side-street. Maps said it was somewhere around here, but it's hard to see with only streetlights, glowing signs and his headlights to go by.

Hang on, there's a sign starting with a B and ending with an O's. And just in front of it, there's a familiar looking pony sitting on the curb, waving at him. He stops just beside her, stepping out and around his car.

Yep, Sandy. Her wide smile is accented by a hefty warmth across her cheeks, some of her mascara smeared.

"Petey!" She announces as he nears, lifting her hooves up towards him. The only thing she's got with her, besides the cute sweater-and-skirt outfit she chose to wear for the night, is the phone sat beside her.
"Found me!"

"Sure did, Sandy. Where's the others?"

"Went... to another bar. Asked me to come, but I couldn't. Gotta see you tomorrow! So I'd... call a cab. But I can't find my purse. Then... when I looked for them, can't find others either. Jusssssss me." She rambles, sighing loudly and awkwardly brushing her mane out of her face. Again, and again. It's just not tucking behind her ear, probably because they're laying flat, before remembering he's here, wobbling up to smile at him again.
"And Petey!"

"And Petey. Come on, let's get you home." He leans down, arms out.
"Can you walk?"

"Ha! Nope. No trotting, either! Thassss why I'm sit here!" She announces proudly, raising her hooves out in the universal sign for uppies.

He groans, thankful she only weighs as much as Cassie, hefting her up in his arms while she shouts 'whee!'.

"We'll find your purse tomorrow, for now let's at least get you... home." Pete's words fail him as he realizes.

She just smiles at him.

"Your keys were in your purse, weren't they?"

Her smile widens, before she starts giggling.

...

"Sleeeeeepover!" She half-whispers, finally being quiet after Pete shushed her for the fourth time, carrying her through his front door over his shoulder.

"Better. But be quieter, Cassie is sleeping, and if she finds out you're here, she's never gonna go back to bed." Pete warns, locking up behind himself, awkwardly kicking off his shoes.

She nods vehemently, just excited to be at his house, all souped up on fun-having liquids of the percentile form.

"Now, you'll get my bed, and I'll take the couch. In the morning, we'll go and find your purse." He explains, quietly stepping through the house, master of the sock-stepping.
"And I'll need to get you a barf bowl..."

The moment he manages to lay her in the bed, however, her hooves grab and smush his cheeks together, holding him in place with her weird foot-hoof-holdy magic.
"Mmmm... why's Petey gotta go on the couch?"

"Because you're in my bed, Sandy." He tries prying her hooves off. Damn, strong grip.

"But... we could share." She offers.

That's not that fun, silly-drunk smile she had moments prior.

"Sandy. We're not..."

"I like you, Petey." She blurts suddenly, before stifling a bubbly giggle.

His eyes widen.
"That's... you're drunk, Sandy. Come on, let's get you to sleep."

Instead of that, however, Pete finds a surprisingly soft pair of messy lips pressing against his, as she pulls herself up. It's over as quick as it startled him, Pete left blinking at a mischevious-looking Sandy.
"Nuh-uh. Not yet."

"Sandy... I'm not doing anything with you while you're like this." Pete tries to explain, but Sandy isn't having any of it.

"You. Me. Now, Pete."

"Sandy, not while you've been drinking. It feels... weird." He tries to take the morale road, but Sandy isn't having any of it.

"Are you gonna keep talking, or... can I just suck your dick already?" She leers, pulling him closer, breath hot on his face.

"..."

...

"How's the..." Pete taps his temple with a finger, grinning at the sight of her. Sandy is still among the living, but you wouldn't know it by looking at her. The bags under her eyes could hold groceries, her mane is an absolute mess that Cassie is currently combing through, with the dedication and sheer focus of a career professional. The cost, of course, is numerous bows and random braids tied into her almost platinum hair.

"Horrid. Throbbing. Pain." She mumbles, taking a long sip of her cup of OJ, tugging at the oversized t-shirt that Pete leant her.

"Still want to do something today?" He teases, leaning on the table.

"...Can I just stay here? And not go out? That'd be nice." She mumbles, rubbing her head.

Cassie nods vehemently, very approving of this idea.

"Yeah, why not. By the way... you should check your phone. Think you missed a few texts. And calls." He explains, sliding her phone over to her.

"Oh, nooooo...." Sandy whines in dread, slowly reaching across for it, dragging it back towards her with worry written across her face.

"Cassie, mind getting the toast?" Pete nods towards the kitchen. Cassie nods, hopping up and skipping out if sight.

But when Sandy bumps her phone open with a hoof, there's only a single text sitting in her notifications.

It's from Pete. There's an image attached.

Her eyes widen, revealing a picture of her and Pete, sprawled on the bed, in a very compromising position. A lot of sweat, and a lot of mess. And not a lot of clothes. And a very messed up bed.

And she's the one that took the picture, a red-faced, giggly smile proving her the culprit.

"I did triple-check with you, but you were very persistent." Pete explains, sipping his morning drink. He's dreading this conversation...

Until Sandy practically leaps out of her seat, hopping around, cheering.
"YES! FINALLY!" She shouts.

"...Huh?"

"Pete, petey. Pete. I've been trying to ride you for months, but you do not pick up on flirting. Who knew all I had to do to get in your bed was get drunk?! I should've tried that SO long ago!"

Pete blinks, a blank stare taking him as Sandy kisses his cheek, grinning.
"So, I guess Sunday's are gonna be for our dates now, right?"

"...Yeah, sure. Sounds good to me." Pete shakes his head, smiling.