It was three in the morning, and Fleur was sitting on the edge of Cheerilee’s bed gathering her things. Her pale pink aura glowed faintly in the dark as she levitated her belongings into her travel bag with a wiggle of her fingers and an unhappy expression. Her other hand scrubbed at her teeth lethargically with a toothbrush. It wasn’t the early hour that had her so sluggish it was just…she was leaving. Again.

In the beginning, it hadn’t been too difficult to go. She and Cheerilee had been getting to know each other and slowly testing the waters. For a year they’d met twice a month like this, and with time, Fleur found herself being drawn further in. How could she not when her lover was so attentive and self-sacrificing? She knew she had been the first to fall for her calm and collected teacher, but she had a keen eye for feelings. Try as Cheerilee might, Fleur had wriggled her way into her Domme’s heart with charm and persistence. It was the one thing she knew she was good at. The hard part was getting people to stay.

But this time, I am the one who leaves. How miserable, she thought with a little sigh.

Sometimes she left early like this to make it to an event. Today it was purely for the cover of darkness. The crickets still sang into the dark of the morning, lightning bugs flashing in the few hours left before dawn. She knew her ride was already here. Earlier, she’d braved the chill to peek through the curtains to see a dark SUV with the lights turned off just a little down the road.

It was like the herald of her unhappiness.

Fleur’s toes played with each other as she glowered at the curtained window, still scrubbing at her teeth.

The sheets rustled as Cheerilee moved and groaned softly, no doubt turning from the light casting through the bathroom doorway where Fleur had been preparing earlier. She often woke up as her sub prepared to leave. At first, Fleur had felt bad for disturbing her, only to quickly realize the woman was doing it intentionally so she could say goodbye.

She felt Cheerilee touch her back, and Fleur turned, her big violet eyes blinking. Cheerilee’s shadowed face turned to look up at her lover, her dark pink hair tangled about her face and neck in pretty whorls that made Fleur’s breath catch. “Good morning, cher,” Fleur murmured.

“Morning,” Cheerilee yawned. She scooted closer and wrapped her arms around Fleur’s hips. Her body was warm, and she pulled even closer to bury her face into Fleur’s side, hands reaching under the hem of Fleur’s shirt to stroke her smooth belly. It was such a pleasant contact of heat and skin and love that Fleur felt the tears hit her before she even realized what was happening.

What torment. To have such an exquisite heaven. Only to pull away.

She stood up abruptly, making Cheerilee blink at her with her arms still dangling over the side of the bed. Fleur felt her eyes on her as she retreated to the master bathroom, where the warm lights over the mirror illuminated her distressed expression. She rinsed her mouth and spat into the sink, then she practically threw her toothbrush out the door before her magic caught it and levitated it to her bag. Cheerilee had to duck to avoid getting brained in the head by it as she drowsily rolled out of bed and stumbled to the door.

“Fleur? What’s the matter?” the older woman asked, squinting and scrubbing at one eye.

Fleur leaned on the bathroom counter. “You can be so cruel, Cheerilee.”

Cheerilee crossed her arms and leaned on the doorway. Her eyebrows lifted as she let out a gentle scoff. “How so?”

Fleur tried not to look at her, but the large bathroom mirror betrayed her, haunting her with Cheerilee’s sleepy confusion. Her lover was dressed in the same T-shirt as earlier—a gray acid-washed T-shirt that said “Ponyville School District” in peach-colored varsity letters and displayed an image of an apple tree with a cute pony under it reading a book. Simple high-waisted green briefs peeked beneath the hem. She had a little pudge, but Fleur adored the soft curves of her Domme, who bore her unrefined physique with such unabashed confidence it made Fleur envious.

“You are too welcoming when I leave,” Fleur told Cheerilee honestly. She sniffled and wiped at her eyes, hoping the tears hadn’t ruined her eyeliner. She’d already finished her makeup and she was dressed in sleek black pants and a fashionable maroon blouse with an unfastened brown vest. With her teeth brushed and her bag packed, all that was left to do was say goodbye and leave.

“When you hold me like that, I do not wish to go,” Fleur said with a choked voice, her chin crumpling. Cheerilee’s forehead creased, her gaze dropping to her bare feet as if searching for words.

One of the lightbulbs buzzed overhead. Through the bathroom window, a dog could be heard barking somewhere. Fleur turned her face and looked down into the sink, where pools of water held the light in strange shapes amidst the swirls of toothpaste yet to be rinsed away. She looked back at the mirror and saw her partner shift.

Cheerilee peeked at her through her blunt bangs. She was older than Fleur by seven years, but the only place you’d see it was the eyes. The teacher carried her age with grace, but her eyes held weariness. She’d lived through enough magical crises in Ponyville, and the struggle she’d endured to establish herself without her grandparents help had been a tale in of itself. And somehow that made it so much worse for Fleur. When Cheerilee looked at her with such care and concern, it bore the weight of real suffering.

That was one of the more intoxicating things about Cheerilee. She was real. Authentic. Fleur was so accustomed to spoiled and vapid people in her celebrity existence that the thought of leaving the one person who saw who she really was felt heart-rending.

Cheerilee rubbed the back of her neck. “Fleur, don’t you have an event in the Dragonlands today?”

Fleur made a face and looked at her. “I do. And so what? It is just another chore.”

“Right. But this was planned weeks in advance.”

“Your point, Cheerilee?”

“My point is that it’s not just you. What about the other people involved?”

“The photoshoot is yet hours away. If I call ahead early enough, then no one is overly inconvenienced. We will simply reschedule.”

“Reschedule.” Cheerilee exhaled, long and quiet as she passed a hand over her eyes. When she looked at Fleur again, it was tiredly. “Like the last three times you used your influence to get your way?”

Fleur clenched her fists on the counter but didn’t say anything. Cheerilee shrugged awkwardly as she tucked a rosy lock behind her ear. “I don’t want you to get into trouble, Fleur. I’m sorry for making you upset. If you’d rather I left you alone on these mornings—”

“No.” Fleur shook her head and stepped toward her. “No, Cheerilee. Please do not pull away. I am sorry for being dramatic. I just find this harder each time because I love you so.”

Cheerilee’s cheeks warmed a little as she scrubbed at her tangled hair. “Fleur…” she sighed.

Fleur grinned, inching closer. “Come on, won’t you say it one more time? It made me so happy when you finally said it last night!”

“‘Finally’?” Cheerilee repeated with a raised eyebrow. She got a laugh in reply.

“But of course.” Fleur flipped her hair and flirted her eyelashes. “Your feelings were obvious to my keen eyes. Why did you think I confessed to you, cher?”

Cheerilee rolled her eyes but smiled and stepped toward Fleur, grabbing her by the waist and kissing her. Fleur felt her heart burn as their lips met, her skin tingling with the contact. When they pulled apart, the woman covered her mouth and turned her head. “Hmph. It must be love if you’ll kiss me with morning breath.”

Now Fleur threw her head back and laughed as she threw her arms around Cheerilee’s neck. She pressed her cheek to her lover’s head with a heavy sigh. “Silly woman. You could be stinking in rags and you’d be the most beautiful thing I’d ever laid eyes on.”

Cheerilee squeezed her arms around Fleur before burying her face in Fleur’s neck and sighing. “It… Isn’t easy for me either, Fleur. I always want one more hug. One more kiss. One more game. If you could find a way to stay without getting into trouble, I would welcome the chance. But you can’t. So let’s be responsible adults. There’s always next time, isn’t there? We shouldn’t be greedy.” Every word tickled Fleur’s neck. Did Cheerilee’s sadism extend this far? It was such awful cruelty.

After a long moment standing together, Cheerilee mumbled, “You have to go. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

Fleur held her tighter. “I like trouble.”

Cheerilee started to pull away, leaving Fleur cold. “I mean it, Fleur. You’re under contract.” Her voice was hardening. She was closing herself off again, steeling herself for what had to be done.

Fleur felt the tears prick her eyes again as she petulantly stomped a foot. She didn’t care if she was being greedy and childish! Who wouldn’t want to be where they belonged?! “Tartarus take that damn contract! I will not go.”

Cheerilee finally pulled free of her sub’s arms and cupped Fleur’s face with her hands. Now her creased eyes held worry. Fleur didn’t like to see Cheerilee worry, so she turned her gaze, staring guiltily at her lover’s T-shirt instead. “Fleur,” the older woman murmured. “I’m telling you. Be a good girl and honor your word. You don’t need the modeling agency on your case or another run of bad press. I hate it when they speak poorly of you.”

Fleur pushed her trembling lip out. “Cheerilee…”

Her lover kissed her, softly, an aching brush of the lips, then she pulled Fleur down toward her, turning her head slightly so that she could whisper in her ear. “You can do this. Be my good girl. I’ll see you soon, all right?”

Fleur whimpered but nodded her head once. She was rewarded with a kiss on the cheek for her obedience, and they pulled apart with smiles, but every step she took after that felt so difficult. They said nothing as Fleur exited the bathroom and put on her dark coat and hat. She grabbed her bag from the footboard bench but paused at the door leading to the hallway to look back at Cheerilee, still standing in the bathroom doorway on the other side of the room.

“Adieu, Cheerilee,” Fleur breathed, trying to look brave and knowing she was failing.

Cheerilee smiled at her, and it was such a bittersweet look. “Adieu, Fleur.”

Was Cheerilee’s voice thicker than before? Did her eyes shine with tears like Fleur’s did? With a crumpling chin, Fleur blew her a kiss, then turned and left.

The air nipped unpleasantly outside of Cheerilee’s home. Fleur approached the dark car she’d spotted earlier, shivering. It was a private chauffeur service. The same driver had been given the task of picking her up every other week here at exactly this time. She’d insisted on someone discreet and reliable, someone who would understand the delicate arrangement and honor their part in spiriting Fleur away.

Irrationally, she hated the man. Not because of anything specific he’d done to her—after all, he was only doing what she requested—but because he represented the end of her bi-weekly romance. She didn’t even remember the man’s name. He took her bag and opened the door for her.

Fleur entered the car haughtily, casting him a dirty look. Now and again she had to wipe gingerly at her eyes. Even “incognito” it was important to maintain her appearance. It just wouldn’t do to look unkempt in case of paparazzi cornering her.

Oh, the stupid rules governing her stupid life.

She glowered as she stared out the tinted window of the dark SUV. When the driver turned in his seat and asked if there were any stops she’d like to make before going to the regional airport where her private jet awaited, Fleur snapped that she had nowhere else to be, and the man quietly turned forward, started the engine, and began to drive away.

When they pulled into the street and passed Cheerilee’s home, Fleur thought she saw the curtains of Cheerilee’s bedroom move. She craned her neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the woman she loved, but they were quickly too far to see. As the sight of her secret haven pulled away, Fleur’s anger shifted inward, circling the familiar refrain of doubts she couldn’t escape.

Fleur clenched her fists. She was good at getting what she wanted. But keeping it, making it last… That was not her strong suit. Could she aspire to something more than this? Was it possible? She sat thinking, furious and miserable, as her chauffeur drove through a quiet Ponyville. Fleur had never actually been able to explore the town. She was dreadfully curious about its quaint businesses and curious people, which were apparently special enough to produce six magical guardians for the kingdom, one of whom ascended and became a princess.

As the vehicle rumbled along, the heater on blast, Fleur daydreamed what it would be like to walk hand-in-hand with Cheerilee here. In her dreams, they were always smiling and laughing. She loved Cheerilee’s laugh. It sounded…motherly. Even during their special games.

But she was trapped by her contract with her modeling agency. It stopped her from doing so much.

Mane Event Modeling was a powerhouse in modeling talent, and Fleur was their biggest client. In exchange for handling scheduling and other bothersome particulars, Fleur gave them a cut of whatever earnings she made. And considering what she earned, it was a fortune. Surely this should give her more clout?

Fleur blew out her cheeks as she leaned on her door and watched the last of Ponyville slip by, the Crystal Castle looming in the distance.

She had some power, yes, but she was under contract. Her ability to negotiate was constrained by the binding legal agreement she’d signed years ago. Cheerilee had encouraged her to work freelance when her contract expired, but even renegotiating the terms with a better lawyer would have made Fleur happier.

Then the woman stilled, blinking at her reflection in the window.

Wait. She was wealthy enough to afford an excellent lawyer and a far more skilled one than when she had started. Could he maybe…?

Fleur hastily dialed and pressed the phone to her ear. She watched anxiously as the SUV passed by Sweet Apple Acres. Another ten minutes and they’d be at the regional airport where she’d get on a jet and fly to the Dragonlands. She didn’t have much time to pull this off.

Her lawyer didn’t answer on the first try. Clenching her teeth, Fleur tried again. He picked up on the third ring.

There was a clatter, and then a drowsy voice mumbled, “Hullo? Fleur de Lis?”

“Paper Hawk,” She said, putting the phone on speaker and pulling up her phone’s scheduling app. “Good morning. I need your assistance.”

“Could this not wait a few more hours?”

“Not if I wish to cancel my event without breaching my contract today.”

There was a rustle and a curse over the line. Fleur saw her driver peek at her in the rearview mirror before he hastily returned his eyes to the road.

When Paper Hawk spoke again, he sounded far more awake. “Remind me, what were you doing today?”

Fleur clicked on the only event for the weekend and squinted at it. “A photo shoot with Dragonlord Ember and some new photographer. A dragonkin named…er, Snarkpuff.”

“You want to cancel on the Dragonlord?!” Paper squawked. “Fleur, Ember is almost on par with the princesses for diplomatic power. Heck, even Snarkpuff is rising meteorically. Did you see his exhibit at the Crystal Empire? You’d be passing up on an important collaboration!”

Fleur groaned, rubbing absently at the bite mark on her tender breast so that it ached a little. It didn’t hurt anymore if she left it alone, but she loved these little souvenirs that Cheerilee gave her, inconvenient though they sometimes were.

“I do not care, Paper. I do not wish to go. Surely there must be some loophole we can exploit in all that fancy legalese?”

“Like what? We can’t just make something up!” She could almost hear him running his hand through his thinning hair. “Fleur, I really think you should—”

She rolled her eyes. “Paper, if you are trying to look out for my best interests, I will kindly ask you to stop.”

“It’s literally what you pay me for! Need I remind you that the last event you turned down had a crowd of over a hundred and twenty-thousand?? And as I said, I can’t just make up an excuse—!”

“So dig out my contract and find the clauses we can use, you silly old man!” Then Fleur bit her lip and bowed her head. Cheerilee had admonished her for treating her employees brusquely in the past. And hadn’t she just received a lecture about treating people with respect? It was just so difficult to keep in mind when her emotions felt so taut and time was so short. “I… I am sorry, monsieur Paper Hawk. I do not mean to snap. But time is of the essence and you are the only one that can help. Will you? Pretty please?”

The man sighed over the phone. Nearly a minute passed, a silent showdown of wills. Fleur sweat, biting her lip as she waited.

She heard a rustling of papers and a weary voice. “I suppose this is why I’m on retainer. Still, I appreciate the good manners. All right, give me a few moments.”

Fleur beamed and bounced in her seat. “Thank you, Paper Hawk!” Her hands practically blurred over her phone as she tapped and swiped. “I am looking over the event details from my agent as well.” Another thing Cheerilee had taught her. She wasn’t a lawyer, but with persistence and help from a lawyer friend, she had gone over Fleur’s contract in an effort to help the supermodel better understand her contractual obligations. One thing she had advised?

“Always check the itinerary the agency gives you, Fleur. They need to be accurate and uniform. If they ever make a critical mistake you can use it to your advantage. Not just a typo, but something that really inconveniences you.”

Carefully, Fleur read over the emailed document. Her eyes slowly crawled over the words, even as her mind raced to find a weakness somewhere, anywhere. The location was correct. The hour seemed reasonable—it gave Fleur enough time to fly there from wherever she was, get settled at a hotel, arrive on set for clothes and makeup, and complete the shoot. Fleur pouted and clicked on another email in the thread of conversation between herself and her modeling agent. Primrose Promise was a very good agent, and Fleur actually liked her very much. But she was on a mission for love and she was certain this would bear out well.

Paper Hawk began to speak as Fleur scanned the latest email from Primrose, her smile curling wider with each passing word. “Fleur,” he said, oblivious to the spark of delight kindling in her expression, “I’m afraid the clauses that would allow you to abruptly break off engagements are... limited. Unless you’re gravely ill, injured, or grieving a close relative, the only option we’re left with is the unreasonable inconvenience clause.”

He barely finished his sentence when Fleur’s eyes lit up, and she brandished her phone triumphantly. “Ah! I think I’ve got it!”

“You—you what?”

“Yes, listen, listen,” Fleur’s knees started bouncing as she eagerly spoke. “Primrose sent a last-minute email in the middle of the night! I did not even see this until now! She says, ‘Fleur, my apologies, but there have been some changes to the photoshoot tomorrow. Due to active volcanic eruptions at the original location, the photoshoot has been moved to the eastern part of the Dragonlands, where the black dune sea is. Because of the distance and location, you will need to leave three hours earlier and be sure to bring—’ Paper, is this enough??”

“Ah, er, this certainly seems to fit the criteria, Fleur. Please forward me the email and I will double-check for you.”

She did so, practically vibrating in her seat as they arrived at the Ponyville regional airport. Though ‘airport’ was being generous. It was really just a single airstrip with a handful of hangars for locals who flew planes, or for large shipments that came by plane. Fleur’s jet was already pulled out, no doubt fueled and ready to go. She could see her skyborn pilot conducting one last-minute inspection, her gray feathered wings rustling on her back as she turned and watched the SUV pull to a stop alongside the jet. Clear Skies, a black ponykin with a dark navy captain’s hat, and a quick laugh. Like her chauffeur, she and Fleur didn’t talk much, but at least the pilot knew more of Fleur’s kindness, judging by the ready smile on her face.

The driver stepped out of the car and opened the door for Fleur since she hadn’t told him to do anything else. She blinked at him, shivering at the sudden breeze of cool morning air that swept into the warm car. The broad man looked at her, his dark eyes and square face perfectly neutral as he waited for her to leave or snap at him. Come to that, he looked braced for it.

Fleur felt a pang of guilt as she looked from him to the pilot, who hastened to stand next to the little steps that led up into the jet.

“Um. Pardon me, but monsieur, what was your name again?” she asked the driver lightly.

The man stared at her for a moment. Eventually, he answered, “Rocky Roll.” He blinked like he couldn’t believe she’d just asked him that.

Fleur inhaled deeply and nodded. Rocky Roll! That was right. She gestured at her phone. “I might not leave just yet, monsieur Roll. Please give me a moment to sort this out—and ask Clear Skies to stand by.”

Rocky Roll’s mouth was open as he processed her uncharacteristic politeness toward him. After a moment, he nodded once, drawing himself up straight again, like he was at attention. The way he moved, she suspected some military background. Ex-Royal Guard perhaps? “Of course, Miss Fleur.” He shut the door and said a quick word to Clear, who snapped a salute and resumed her inspection of the plane with a curious glance. They were not following the normal schedule, the normal routine.

Thank heavens for that.

Fleur peeked nervously at her phone again. At this rate, she was going to be late for her photoshoot no matter what, but the tricky thing about these contractual events was that she still had to notify the agency. And for that, she needed an iron-clad argument.

There was another clatter over the line as Paper Hawk apparently picked up his phone and then spoke. “Fleur, you’re in luck. Under your contractual terms, you have the ability to cancel. Do you want to do a three-way call with Primrose Promise?”

“Yes!” Fleur said. Her heart pulsed anxiously in her chest. Was this really happening? “I will dial her now.”

“Fleur, just a moment,” Paper Hawk said with a little sigh.

The supermodel paused in searching for Primrose’s name on her contact list. “Yes, Paper?”

The older man sounded very serious when he spoke again. “Fleur, this is a major photoshoot with a diplomat and a hard-to-get star photographer. Even if you’re justified in doing this, your agency won’t be pleased. This may cost you some bargaining power later. Especially with all the goodwill you’ve already been burning this year. Are you all right with that?”

Fleur didn’t even need to think about it. “Yes.”

“Don’t be so hasty, Fleur! Just think—”

“Monsieur, respectfully, all I do is think about how this silly contract has trapped me from doing the things that truly make me feel alive and happy. I only have a year left with my agency under these terms. And if I am being perfectly honest? I am considering retirement. If they later wish for me to pose naked with the yakmen in the snow as retribution, I will do so and hope Prince Rutherford joins. But this weekend? I want to be free.”

Rocky Roll, who was sitting in the driver seat again, actually looked back with wide eyes. This time Fleur caught him and winked, making the man blush and whip forward again. Paper Hawk chuckled lightly over the phone. “All right, Miss Fleur. Please have Primrose join our call.”

Fleur tapped the green button on her phone screen, then they waited as it rang. Unlike Paper Hawk, Primrose Promise answered on the first try.

“Fleur! Hi, hello, and hey. Please tell me you saw my email and you’re already on your way?” Primrose sounded cheery, but strained, like she had eight arms and was cooking, cleaning, and finding a cure for the common cold all at once.

The supermodel winced. “Primrose, I’m afraid I am not. We have something serious to discuss.”

“Oh no…” Primrose groaned.

Fleur nodded with a pursed-lip smile. “Prim, it will be all right. But I’m afraid—”

She jerked back when Primrose wailed at the top of her lungs. “Oh nooooo! You’re doing it again, aren’t you?! Fleur, please don’t. Do you know how hard Ember is to get for a photoshoot?? She hates cameras!”

Fleur shrugged and wheeled a hand through the air. “Well if she wishes to cancel, then perhaps this will not be so—”

“Ember is like a unicorn in the photography world. It was hard enough getting her to agree to the reschedule! People of state do not just do this kinda thing willy nilly, Fleur—!”

Fleur held the phone away from her as she frowned and tried to think. This was going to need all her charm and wit to fix if Primrose’s swift panic was anything to go by. So what were her options? She was at Ponyville. What could she do while here…?

Now, hold on. Didn’t she pass the Crystal Castle on the way here? The literal home of one of the princesses?

Her eyes brightened as the starting of an idea began to coalesce in her mind. She tapped her lips and looked around eagerly, Prim jabbering on without her. Everyone in Ponyville was close, right? And that included the Princess of Friendship and her friends, didn’t it? Cheerilee had said the Princess and the Guardians of Harmony stopped by the school often. Maybe she could…?

Fleur hastily brought the phone back to her face. “Prim, chaton, I can make this up to you. I promise.”

“What in Equestria could you possibly do to make up for this, Fleur?? You’re not the only one sick of working with Mane Event Modeling! My resume needs more juice!”

“I’m starting to see why you and your agent get along so well, Fleur,” Paper muttered over the line.

“F-Fleur, is that Paper Hawk? You’re lawyering up on me? I thought we were friends!”

Fleur felt herself sweating bullets as, for once, she wasn’t the one losing it. “Prim, Prim! Please, you must understand, I’m—”

“You know the agency is going to hang me for this, right?!”

“Miss Promise, my client is well within her right to—”

“Don’t talk to me about rights you farting old corpse, this is my career we’re talking about here. Butt out!”

“Farting old—I beg your pardon?!”

Fleur covered her face. If she’d thought she could slip out of this without an ear-lashing, she supposed Cheerilee’s lessons about accountability were long overdue for a refresher. The universe just wasn’t that generous.

Muting her microphone, Fleur listened to her lawyer and modeling agent trade barbs. The sky was already lightening to a rosy plum.

Scooting to the very edge of her seat, Fleur hugged the seat in front of her and rested her cheek on the back of the headrest as she eyed Rocky. The man tried very valiantly to pretend a supermodel wasn’t currently staring at the side of his head, but he caved when Fleur leaned in and blew on his ear.

“M-May I help you, miss?” He asked, looking at her with a cornered expression.

Fleur screwed her mouth to one side of her face. After a moment of consideration, she shook her head. “No. You have been a very good driver, monsieur Roll, but I have not been a very good employer. I am sorry that I have been so…mmm, let us say, unkind.”

Rocky Roll pursed his lips and shook his head. “Speak nothing of it, miss. You pay well, and it’s easy work.”

“Yes, but a beautiful woman once told me that healthy relationships and positive support is what makes one happy. And if every person is an end within themselves, not a means to an end, then surely I should treat those who work with me better, non?” She grimaced and lowered the volume on her phone’s speaker as Primrose resorted to screaming the word ‘boomer’ at Paper over and over. Flipping her hair back, Fleur scooted over and rested her head on the shoulder of the front passenger seat. Rocky glanced at her nervously. “May I call you, Rocky, monsieur Roll?”

“Um. Sure. Th-That’s fine,” Rocky said, his cheeks pinking slightly. “Not sure I deserve a fancy title like that, though.”

“Monsieur Rocky. Oooh! I like the ring of that. You mustn’t blush so, it is a fine way to address a capable man such as yourself.” Fleur was grinning at her driver’s awkward but pleased expression when her ear tweaked to the sound of her name being called over the phone. The grin wiped from her face. “Ah, drat. I am being summoned. A moment, please.”

Clearing her throat, Fleur unmuted her microphone and held her device up. “Ahem, yes?”

She listened as Primrose shrilly told Fleur that she owed her a massive favor for this. Paper Hawk snootily reminded Primrose that punitive agendas could and would result in a lawsuit. This made the normally cheery modeling agent remark that she’d forgotten Paper was there without the creaking of his boomer’s voice. The man snapped back that maybe if Primrose wanted to hear creaking so bad, she should go back to the shack she used to pimp clients out from. And on and on it went…

But Fleur barely heard any of it, because she was smiling and weeping quietly.

She’d done it. She could stay. And somehow she was still taking accountability for it. Would Cheerilee be proud? Fleur hoped she would be.

Pressing the phone to her chest as her agent and lawyer quarreled some more, Fleur leaned toward Rocky, whose smile looked ready to bolt from his face at any given moment, but whose eyes sparked with cautious delight.

“Monsieur? Do you know of a place where I could purchase flowers here in town? And we must get poor Clear Skies out of the cold and give her a meal for her efforts. Are you hungry? Come, let us have an early breakfast. My treat.” She paused blinking, then looked at him helplessly. “Er…do you have recommendations for places that are open?”

Rocky Roll smiled as he put his hand on his door handle. “A few, miss. Let me talk to Clear Skies.”

Cheerilee couldn’t fall back to sleep. She seldom did after Fleur left. She lay in bed, her room dark, watching the walls grow lighter and lighter. There was such a massive pit in her chest, she wasn’t sure she could get out of bed even if she wanted to. Next to her, the sheets still held some of Fleur’s warmth, and when Cheerilee rolled over to lay in it, she was dismayed to discover the pillows still held the scent of Fleur’s perfume.

Exasperated, she hugged the pillow to her chest and screamed into it.

She really, really missed Fleur.

She was frustrated with herself for feeling this way. What was she, fifteen again? She was in her thirties! She didn’t have time for this!

Granted, she had an extra day off for a long weekend thanks to the third annual festival celebrating the defeat of Tirek. It lasted three whole days. She’d originally been planning on just watching the inaugural parade, then going home and grading papers, then watching television until she passed out on the couch.

She had other plans, of course. She did! They just…all involved staring at Fleur’s photos online. Reading articles about her sub. Laughing at the rumors. Yelling to no one about the bad press.

By the time Cheerilee realized the spiral she was in, the sun was just starting to rise. The pattern was becoming plain as day. If she stayed here, it would be bad. She knew she needed to get out of the house, and she certainly needed to do more than just silently watch the world pass her by. She needed to talk to someone.

Sadly, her list of people to confide in was short. It wasn’t that she didn’t have many friends, but this sort of thing? She needed a good listener. Someone without prejudice who could take her thoughts and not hastily draw unhelpful conclusions. She also needed someone, er, awake this early. And as luck would have it, she knew of one person who would be all of these things. She called them, hoping this wouldn’t be the one day her friend would be unavailable, but she heaved a sigh of relief when she was given the okay to come over.

She cleaned herself up and then started the coffee maker. As it brewed a new pot, she put on comfortable jeans, a long-sleeved blouse, and a green knitted sweater. She poured some coffee into a travel mug, no cream or sugar, then grabbed an opened package of coffee cake and headed out the door.

She didn’t own a car. In such a small town as Ponyville? It wasn’t usually necessary. And Cheerilee liked walking. She liked seeing the morning dew clinging to the grass and the way her neighbor Matilda’s daisies seemed to catch the scattered light of the morning, making them pop in their planters. She could hear cars rumbling, and people talking, and someone had finally shut up that dog that had been barking hours ago. This was Ponyville coming alive, and after living here all her life, Cheerilee felt every bit a part of the town as it had become a part of her.

She walked with purpose, but she looked around keenly, hoping to catch familiar faces. Early though it still was, she did manage to spy a few people about their business.

“Hello, Roseluck. How’s the business doing? I may have to stop by for some fresh bouquets later. They do so much to brighten my home—”

“Oh, hi Mr. Cake! How’s your back pain? Ah, I’m sorry to hear that…”

“Hello Berryshine. Thank you for helping Piña Colada with her homework, by the way. She turned it in on time. Just keep helping your sister with her capitalization please…”

And on and on until she found herself walking a country road. Rows and rows of apple trees spanned next to her, and the air smelled fresh. During the spring, she loved the blossoms carrying their scent on the wind here.

When Cheerilee arrived at Sweet Apple Acres, it was to find her friend, Big Macintosh, loading a horse-drawn carriage with the day’s selection for the market. He greeted her with a smile, and she grinned holding up her package of coffee cake. Their greetings were always silent, but she found she preferred this.

They retired to an old picnic bench near the barn, and Cheerilee just…talked. Big Macintosh was an expert listener, and ever since Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo had tried to play matchmaker between them, the pair had become closer friends.

“I’m… seeing someone. It’s been a year now, but it’s kind of long-distance. She lives far away, and we only get together twice a month.” She paused here, feeling emotionally like she’d just summited a mountain. She wasn’t accustomed to talking about her love life, but she was a big believer in practicing what you preach, and after all the advice she’d given to others, she knew she couldn’t bottle up this particular dilemma.

But even if she wanted to give herself a pat on the back, Big Macintosh just lifted his eyebrows significantly and held up his hands.

Okay? And?

Cheerilee furrowed her eyebrow and took a sip of her drink, taking something from the warmth burning down her throat before she sallied forth once again. “It’s surprised me. That’s all. That this whole thing has worked as long as it has.” She leaned over and nudged him, her little elbow barely shifting his hulk of muscle. “Remember the last partner I had? Six months.”

A record. But even then her cynicism had waited for the other foot to drop. What stung the most was that the other person had just…stopped returning her calls. She’d even bought them a gift, but after holding out for two months, she’d turned around and given it to someone else for their birthday. Then she’d put out…the ad. A long shot to beat all long shots. She’d had no hope that it would amount to much. Then Fleur had become a part of her life.

Cheerilee sat frozen, staring out at the vast rows of trees that dotted Sweet Apple Acres. She felt truly silly for not seeing the parallels between her and Fleur’s lives. Was this why they worked? Because…they were both lonely? Because they were so used to people leaving that they worked harder to make others stay? But whereas Fleur gave in excess, Cheerilee refused to chase and beg. She had her students, and her friends at Ponyville. Her life was not empty. She didn’t need to resort to the dramatics of her sub.

So then why did she feel this way?

Big Mac glanced at her as he popped another crumb of coffee cake into his mouth. Cheerilee sighed. “It’s great that there’s someone who wants to be with me, Big Mac. It’s nice. But… I want to be with her too. And it… Hurts. Because we can’t. She’s so busy, and there’s other things that complicate matters.” She leaned back on the picnic table with her elbow and sighed again. “I’m happy. And I’m miserable. Is this what love is like?”

Big Mac nodded his head sagely. “Eyup.”

Cheerilee sipped at her coffee, then puckered her lips in thought. Big Mac had married Sugar Belle a little over a year ago. The way he told it—and he said quite a lot if one just paid attention—his journey to marriage had been a long and painful one filled with missed opportunities, terrible misunderstandings, and lots of angsty pining.

She’d scoffed at the idea. Sounds like a lot of hassle, she’d said, knowing full well she sounded like a cynical spinster and not caring a whit. Now…?

When Big Mac pointed at her mug, then himself, she grinned and handed it to him. The man sipped and grimaced, thrusting it back at her with clear disgust. She laughed at him. “Oh Mac, they say it’s healthier for you!”

“Nope.” He shook his head emphatically, spat onto the dirt, and shoved a large piece of cake into his mouth.

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, gazing out at the sun, which had just cleared the horizon. Then the man shifted toward her and held up a finger. When she blinked at him, he raised an eyebrow and wagged the finger at her, then held the finger up again.

“One?” Cheerilee ventured with tensed eyes. At his patient nod, she scratched her head and tried to think. “One… chance?” He shook his head, his orange bangs falling into his amused green eyes, which were a deeper and darker shade than hers. Now Cheerilee frowned.

It was true that she could understand his thoughts much better than before their new friendship, but it still could be said that of all the kin in Ponyville, only Sugar Belle, Applejack, Apple Bloom, and Granny Smith could intuit the man’s thoughts on the first try. Cheerilee thought and thought. Then her eyes lit up. “Wait—you think she’s the one?”

Now the man smiled, showing teeth. He nodded his head once more, then took another messy bite of coffee cake, big crumbs on his lips.

Cheerilee blushed for the first time and looked up at the blue and gold sky. “It’s possible. Maybe. I don’t really want to get ahead of myself.”

Big Mac hummed, pursing his lips and nodding. Understandable. He held up a hand. But hey, enjoy it while it lasts. He looked at her and winked. Right?

She grinned crookedly and nodded. “Right.” Her grin faded a little and she looked down as she turned the travel mug in her hands, her fingers a little pink from the morning chill. “Except she gets so sad when she has to leave. And I’m always a mess afterward. It’s exhausting. Can this really be sustainable?”

Now the man scoffed and waved the thought away like the silly thing it was. Don’t overthink it.

She crossed her legs and wiggled a foot in the air, her brows drawing together again. “Why shouldn’t I think about that, Big Mac? I’m in my mid-thirties. I have a career. Did you know that Mayor Mare is talking about expanding the schoolhouse and hiring more teachers? She’s talking about making me the principal.”

He whistled and looked at her with a big smile. She returned it and bobbed her head. “Yes! It’s great. I’m thrilled that we’re getting more students. I was almost afraid the School of Friendship was going to force the schoolhouse to close.” She hastily held up her hands, her head twisting to make sure no one had heard. “Don’t get me wrong, the other school has its merits. But we need a place focused on the basics—reading, math, science. Kids need a solid foundation before the big-picture stuff.”

“Eeeyup,” Big Mac said, leaning on the table, making it creak with his weight. “Philosophy’s for the grown-ups. Granny says you can’t build a barn till you’ve got your hammer.”

“Exactly.” Cheerilee settled back against the picnic table, smiling faintly as she saw Apple Bloom running across the lawn to greet Sweetie and Scootaloo. Apparently, the Cutie Mark Crusaders were starting their adventures early today. “It was a good thing that Twilight and Starlight agreed with me. But I was thinking we could do a summer program. Maybe as a way to help kids transition? The School of Friendship would make such a good secondary school to the kids in the area—” She caught Big Mac’s eye and chuckled. “Sorry, I’m rambling again. Education just gets me fired up.”

Big Mac nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips as his eyes flashed with knowing.

Cheerilee’s smile faltered for just a moment, her thoughts shifting to Fleur again. If Mayor Mare succeeded in expanding the school and made her principal... The time she’d have to dedicate to it, the late nights... The thought made her stomach twist. There would be less time for her dates with Fleur. Certainly for their special games. But she reluctantly acknowledged that, sometimes, there were more important things to prioritize.

It was all just as well that she got off on this tangent. Big Mac was going to have to go back to work soon, and she hated leaving him worrying about her. Nothing put people at ease quite like sounding confident about a plan. She had many ideas about Ponyville’s educational future, and for the longest time, she had resigned herself to having nothing else to pour herself into.

And now there was Fleur.

Cheerilee sighed inwardly as she hugged Big Macintosh. She gave him her bravest face, and he seemed satisfied with it. He patted her on the back encouragingly as they walked back to his home.

She was very good at putting on a face. Code-switching was one of her better skills, and she did it so often. One moment she was the shrewd but loving teacher. The next she was the helpful neighbor. Another and she was the stern lecturer.

She took a moment to say hello to Sugar Belle and Applejack, who were both making breakfast at the Apple family home. She apologized for spoiling Big Mac’s appetite, and Applejack laughed and said, “Who? Big Mac? More like Big Black Hole. That man’s a bottomless pit, Miss Cheerilee.” They had all laughed as Big Mac put his sister into a playful headlock. Here? Cheerilee had on her, “punctilious neighbor” face on.

When she left the house, her young students spotted her and ran over. “Miss Cheerilee, Miss Cheerilee!” They cried, their pink glowing faces turned up at her with gap-toothed smiles.

She smiled patiently at them, her teacher mode instantly shifting into place as she listened to them trip over themselves talking about how they’d aided a ponykin boy with discovering his cutie mark talent yesterday after school. The boy, who was magicbound like Fleur and Sweetie, wasn’t local to Ponyville, only coming to visit with his family for the three-day festival.

“He can tame snakes!” Sweetie Belle shrieked, pulling at her face.

Apple Bloom pointed eagerly at her cheek, where ponykin could conjure their cutie marks at will. “His cutie mark is a snake with all these shiny sparks and whirly-doos around it. You won’t believe how he got it!”

Scootaloo waved her arms, her messy mop of hot pink hair flopping into her light purple eyes as her stunted wings buzzed on her back. “Yeah, yeah! We were trying to find his special talent by the woods when—” her friends nudged her, and she halted, but Cheerilee’s eyes narrowed.

“By the woods. You wouldn’t happen to mean the Everfree Forest, would you, girls?” she asked shrewdly.

The girls shuffled their feet, their eyes casting about looking at everything but Cheerilee. The older woman sighed as she put her hand on her hip. “Girls…”

“Nothin’ serious happened, Miss Cheerilee,” Apple Bloom hastily explained. She twirled her fingers together even as her shoulders hunched up about her ears. “It was just an ordinary snake that scared us. Not a cockatrice or a timber wolf or anything serious like that.”

Cheerilee clicked her tongue at them. “Be that as it may, you all know that the Everfree Forest is no place to play! You should only go there with an adult. How many more close calls with monsters do you need before you finally listen, girls?”

They kicked at the ground and bowed their heads, mumbling apologies.

“You aren’t going to tell our parents, are you Miss Cheerilee?” Sweetie Belle asked with puppy-dog eyes.

Cheerilee sighed heavily as she regarded her, arguably, most worrisome students. Oh, they behaved well enough in class, and they mostly kept up with their schoolwork, but of all the children, none had such a close relationship with the Guardians of Harmony as these three did. The number of times Cheerilee had a heart attack watching the girls being in the middle of some dangerous caper on the news left the woman fretting that she’d get gray hairs before she even turned forty. Between these kids and Fleur, she really didn’t need anything more to worry about.

After a long moment of thought, Cheerilee leaned forward onto her knees and said, “How about this? If you’re all free from any chores, then come with me to the first day of the Triumph Over Tirek Festival. We’ll have breakfast and enjoy the parade, then you can help me grade the younger students’ papers this afternoon before the night’s events. All right?” She had a wry look on her face. This was one way of keeping the girls out of trouble, she supposed.

Their eyes brightened as they bounced and clapped their hands. “Yes!”

“Good. Then hurry and tell your guardians. I will meet you at the Ponyville Town Hall, okay?”

“Okay!” They chorused, then rushed off, all joy and mischief.

Cheerilee smiled faintly as they went. Perhaps today would not be so bad. Her place was here, among these earnest and caring people. It was a special weekend, after all, full of laughter and familiar comforts. She should have known better than to think her friends and neighbors would let her sulk alone in her home all day. She was not abandoned. She had other loved ones.

Yet as she left Sweet Apple Acres, the warmth of the gathering lingered behind her, and the hollow quiet of her own thoughts crept back in.

She was used to living with so many masks, each tailored to the people she cared for—bright, cheerful, unshakable. Proper. It was a role she played well, and they seemed to love her for it.

But there had been one person who had seen through those masks without effort. One person who had looked straight past her careful smiles to the dark, unspoken corners of her soul and didn’t flinch. Didn’t ask her to change.

Just like her, those corners didn’t quite fit in this world.

And now that person was gone.

The ache settled low in her chest, as familiar as it was unwelcome. No matter how surrounded she was, Cheerilee felt unmoored, her truest self left behind in the gaze of someone who was no longer there to hold it.

Fleur bounced lightly on the balls of her feet, a bouquet of roses in her hands. She rang the doorbell one more time. Three minutes had passed already! Surely Cheerilee wasn’t still sleeping. “Where are you, mon ami?” she whispered, peering into the darkened windows.

Behind her, Rocky Roll shifted awkwardly, balancing Fleur’s travel bag and a cup of coffee. Clear Skies sipped her own drink, a bag of food in hand.

“Erm, miss? Maybe your friend’s out for the day?” Rocky ventured hesitantly.

Fleur pouted, crossing her arms. “But she loves to sleep in on her days off.”

Clear Skies shrugged, thumbing toward town. “This weekend’s the Triumph Over Tirek Festival. Maybe she went early to get stuff done?”

Fleur froze, then slapped a weary hand over her face. “Oh, mon dieux, the festival! Of course. Finding her in that crowd—it will be impossible!”

“Maybe call her?” Clear Skies offered, looking far too amused as she took another sip of coffee.

Rocky glanced nervously at the SUV, clearly imagining the nightmare of navigating blocked roads and festival-goers. His usefulness, it seemed, was waning rapidly.

But Fleur had no time for their concerns. A call? How unromantic. “It lacks drama! Finesse!” she declared, throwing up her hands. A few rose petals shed from the bouquet, fluttering to the ground and she winced.

“Well,” she sighed theatrically as she inspected the roses, “we cannot let our meals go to waste. Come! Let us sit, eat, and plan our next move. This is no ordinary errand—this is a quest of the heart!”

With a dramatic flourish, she turned and marched toward the car, her expression resolute. “She will not escape me—not today, not ever!”

Rocky and Clear exchanged a glance before following, one amused, the other resigned. Fleur’s determination could rival any festival crowd, and heaven help Cheerilee when she found her.

Author's Note

The end credits were much easier to find here, heh.

That's all I have so far! I've started the next chapter already, but I have to finish the other requested fics in my queue. I hope you all like this, and I hope to see you all soon with another one!