No Matter What They Say
Dust.
Heat and dust. It was all you could do to stay on your feet as you lifted the final bale of hay, tossing it into the corner where it kicked up a musty cloud from the floor of the loft. Your eyes burned, sweat seeping in even as you squinted against the brightness of the sun outside. It left a muddy streak along your arm as you wiped your forehead and watched the hooks being lowered back to the ground. From where you stood, you could overhear the other day-laborers down below, occupied with chatting about Miss Applejack and her friends as they prepared the next load.
“Now don't that beat all? You'd think boss-lady'd be too busy to go gallivantin' around all day.”
With your hand shading your eyes, you could indeed see Applejack and the pink pony in the distance, laughing with each other as they walked down the path away from the farm.
“The privileges of the bourgeoisie, right?”
The brown pony spat irritably, “Well, least they didn't come this way. Don't think I could take it.”
“I know what you mean,” replied the other, as he secured the hay hook, “Hey, listen to this: I was at the cake shop the other day to pick up that cheesecake the wife likes ...”
“Yeah?”
“Had to wait in line for half an hour! It was crowded, yeah, but it wouldn't have taken nearly as long if the pink girl had been paying attention to the customers instead of singing some crazy song. And when I finally get to the front ...”
“Uh huh?”
“Turns out they were out of cheesecake.”
He laughed. “What? Y'aint serious.”
“Yeah, had to wait another hour until they made more.” He signaled the brown pony to start hauling the line, lifting another heavy pile of hay in your direction. “Just don't have enough workers, I guess. Still, seems to me Mr. and Mrs. Cake would be better off with one less employee, if you know what I mean.”
“Aint that the truth. Shoot. Some ponies, I tell ya.”
Another set of bales rose to the loft and then back along the metal track toward the center of the floor. With a firm tug, you released the latch, sending the load crashing down.
You stood for a moment and stared at the fresh pile of bales waiting to be neatly stacked along the wall of the loft, sighing quietly as you rubbed your aching hands.
With the day's work finally over and the evening quickly falling over the farm, you made your way down the steps from the loft on shaky knees, the mild and strangely accented murmuring of the cows in your ears as you tried to shake the scratchy dust from beneath your shirt collar.
Mootilda looked you over with concern as you hobbled past her stall. “Goodness! You look just terrible, ya poor thing!” she gasped. “They're making you work too hard, aren't they? You run along right now, dear, and ya get yourself something to drink before ya keel over.”
You couldn't help smiling at her motherly attitude despite the cold sweat still dripping from your hair.
Mooriel scoffed from across the way. “Yeah, I can give you somethin' to drink,” she said with a smirk, “But yu'll have to come on over here and get it yerself, if ya know what I mean.”
She winked at you theatrically over a wave of snickering and jokes and whispered comments of disgust. You rolled your eyes and tried not to blush as their chatter continued.
“Oh, Mooriel, quit your flirtin'. Who'd want to put their hands on your saggy old udders anyway?” Mootilda turned to you once more, “Don't let her get to you, dearie. But ya know,” she said, “a young thing like you really should be thinking about settling down, don't ya know? Maybe with one of them nice pretty pony folk eh?”
You shook your head gently. “No, really, I'm fine. And besides,” you said, “I'm not really interested in ponies.”
With a humble nod goodbye, you turned and started off toward the door to the barn, the ladies in the stalls offering the occasional word of support, or perhaps a flirtatious wave.
You flexed your tired arms as you stepped into the cool night air. The year was slipping away, the cold nights coming earlier and earlier. And as tough as it was, you knew it wouldn't be long before the work on the farm completely dried up.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
You could already feel everyone's eyes on you as the chime above the door jingled at your arrival.
“Hi! Welcome to Sugar … Cube ...”
You kept your head down as the sound of your footsteps against the floorboards filled the sudden quiet that had overcome the crowded shop. It seemed as though everyone had turned from their browsing to stare as you made your way to the counter.
“Hello, I'm here about –”
You nearly fell back at the sudden clatter as the pink pony lept up, nearly knocking over a jar of jellies as she stood upon the counter-top. “Hey! It's you!” she shouted, pointing a hoof into your face.
With your mouth still slightly agape, you found yourself replying “What?”
“You! You're you! You!” she jumped to the floor, circling you with curious eyes as she spoke, “You're the one from Applejack's farm! The hyumit!”
“You mean 'human'?”
“Hyuming what?” she asked as she lifted the back of your shirt, “Do you really not have a tail back there?”
“Hey! Wait just a –”
“Oh! Duh! You're probably here to buy something!”
You looked nervously about the shop, only to find that everyone still seemed to be more interested in you than in the strange pink mare.
“Over here,” she continued as she gestured to a tall shelf of sweets, “we have candy canes, clove drops, cinnamon dots, caramels, chocolate bars, cashews, coffee bits, and chewing gum...”
She pulled you across the floor and back to the counter, “and crepes, cookies, cheese cake...”
“Um, actually –”
“Carrot cake...”
“I, um –”
“Croquembouche...”
“Excuse me, but –”
“Things that don't start with C...”
“Are you –”
“Donuts...”
“Pinkie?” A small blue pony peaked out from the doorway behind the counter, “Is everything alright out here?”
The pink pony (“Pinkie” apparently) smiled back “I was just helping this customer, Mrs. Cake!”
“Actually,” you said, quickly placing yourself between Pinkie and Mrs. Cake, “actually, I was wondering if maybe you would be … that is, if you had any work you needed done?”
Mrs. Cake looked at you rather uncertainly, her ears lowered against her head at your sudden appearance.
“I don't charge much,” you continued, “I-I have the skill of a unicorn and the endurance of an earth pony.”
“Oh um, is that right?” she replied, “I don't really think –”
“Ooh! Ooh!” the pink pony, Pinkie, started hopping about once more, and threw her hooves over the counter, “Come on, Mrs. Cake! I think it would be a super swell idea!”
“But, Pinkie Pie...”
She gave the older pony a sad, wide-eyed pout, “Aw, please?” she begged, “You know that anyone who works for Applejack must be a really good and honest employee! And probably super diligent! And skillful! And skilligent!”
Mrs. Cake seemed to pause. “Well ...” she turned to you once again, her eyebrows lowered as she gave you a careful, appraising look. “Could you come back later today, dear? I think we can talk a bit more after closing time.”
With that, she returned to the kitchen, leaving both you and a grinning Pinkie behind.
Your eyes darted about the crowded shop before settling on the cheery pony that had been so unexpectedly helpful. “Um, thank you,” you said.
“You're welcome!” she replied happily, “Any friend of Applejack's is a friend of mine! And I love making new friends!”
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
… up ...
… down ...
… carefully ...
… and … there!
With a small flourish you pulled away the piping bag, leaving a perfectly formed white rosette sitting atop the chocolate. You rubbed your neck as you stood, a slight cramp having made its way in as you worked.
With a deep, satisfied breath, you surveyed your work: a tray of intricately decorated chocolate truffles, a delicacy normally produced by only the finest unicorn chocolatiers (at least, that's what the Cakes told you, anyway). Just a few more remained until the last order of the day was filled and you could finally head home.
“Twelve down,” you mumbled, “six to go.”
You returned your hand to the piping bag to finish off the set of eighteen (or a “Pinky's dozen” as it was known around Sugar Cube Corner). With a smirk, you noted gratefully that this particular pony was still out front with Mrs. Cake, chatting with that funny, frizzy-haired little filly who would sometimes stop by when school let out.
Pinkie Pie always tried her best to be friendly, but she had a habit of interrup-
“Hey!”
“... Yes?” you asked, holding back a sigh as you carefully started decorating the next chocolate.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“N –”
“How come I never see you around town?”
You clicked your tongue, staring down at the tray. “I live on the edge of Ponyville, so I don't usually have to-”
“Where?”
“It's just a … Pinkie Pie, if you have to eat the candies could you please eat one that I haven't finished already?”
She looked up at you, her head propped innocently on her forehooves as she sloppily chewed a mouthful of chocolate. “Bud dhere nah azh good,” she said.
You shook your head as you turned back to the tray. You could at least pretend to be working, after all. “I just stay in a little place near the edge of the city,” you said. “And since it's close to Sweet Apple Acres, I usually don't need to come into town very often.”
“How small?”
“I don't know, small. They use it to store old furniture and things, so it doesn't cost much.”
She looked at you thoughtfully. “So … you live in a shed?”
“Don't you have something to do?”
Her eyelids shot up. “Oh yeah!” she gasped.
As she turned and trotted away, you couldn't help but roll your eyes, frowning, and wondering if she's ever done any real work in her whole life.
Looking out the window for just a moment, you watched a golden leaf flit past the window under the cold autumn clouds, and with a reluctant sigh, you forced your attention back to the chocolates.
“Just six more to go.”
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
“Rookie! Hurry up with those cupcakes! And don't forget these tarts, they still need to be personalized for the mayor's reception!”
“Yes, Mr. Cake!” you replied over the noise of the hectic kitchen.
You wiped the sweat from your brow, the chilly breeze blowing from the open door doing little to cool the oppressive heat of the room, and you quickly started to swirl heaping mounds of frosting onto the small cakes. From the corner of your eye, you caught a blur of pink drop another tin on the corner counter-top with a bang.
You heard behind you the sound of Mrs. Cake's hurried shouts. “Pinkie dear, we need that sugar A-S-A-P!”
“Righty-o, Mrs. Cake!”
Venturing a glance back, past the table where Mr. and Mrs. Cake stood preparing the sculpted candy centerpiece for the festival banquet, you saw Pinkie Pie trotting in and out the back door, carrying bag after heavy bag of sugar. Her coat was matted with sweat, and her mane dusted with a fine wash of flour. But somehow, even through all the shouting and racing about, she'd never lost that cheery smile of hers.
“Eyes on the prize, Rookie!”
“Sorry, Mr. Cake!”
With slow and steady movements, you and Pinkie carefully lowered the massive five-tiered tower of pastries onto the back of the cart. You sighed in relief as it finally touched down, the icy wind burning your nose as you breathed deeply and stood back to your full height.
“You two will be okay here while we're gone, right?” Mrs. Cake asked, her wary eyes focused directly on you. You nodded, and Pinkie Pie rattled off a series of bubbly reassurances. Mrs. Cake seemed somehow unconvinced.
As Mr. Cake began slowly pulling the cart down the street toward City Hall, he turned back for one last order. “And don't forget, this place has to be spotless before morning if we're going to stay open for the celebration.”
“No problemo, Mr. Cake! You can count on us!” Pinkie replied, waving happily to the Cakes as the cart made its way down the street, waiting until they were out of sight before she let her hoof fall tiredly to the ground. She looked at you with an exasperated smirk, and you both shared a chuckle as you slunked back into the hot kitchen.
“Ugh!” you groaned, your aching back sliding down the side of the counter as you lowered yourself to the floor. “Is it always that crazy?”
“Nope,” she said, sprawled out on the floorboards and staring out the open door, “It was way easier this year.”
You let out a long whistle. “So how in the world did you manage all that?”
Pinkie seemed confused at your question. “It's normal, isn't it?”
The two of you sat there for a long time, just looking out the door and enjoying the first breeze of winter on your cheeks. You couldn't see the stars, but the falling snowflakes twinkled brightly enough: dancing white flecks against the darkened sky, blinking into existence as they floated into the glow of the streetlamps.
Pinkie watched with heavy eyes, her head resting on her forelegs. She looked to be on the verge of falling asleep right then and there, not even caring to stifle her yawns. It was somehow hard to imagine this little pink pony working even harder than she had today.
“Pinkie Pie,” you began, your curiosity overcoming your exhaustion, “can I ask you something?”
“Ask away!” she said, her smile still sitting under half-lidded eyes.
“Um,” you faltered, “What is the Winter Moon Celebration, anyway?”
“You don't know? It's amazing!” she chirped, “It's when we all get together to celebrate the longest night in the year! It's a whole day of fun and food and,” her enthusiastic words are interrupted by another loud yawn, “and I get to spend it with all my friends! We'll tell jokes and stories and wear cute outfits and stuff! And later that night, after the whole festival is over, I can give them the presents I made them!”
Pinkie's eyelids slowly drift lower as you sit there in your thoughts.
“You, uh … you spend a lot of time with your friends, don't you?”
“Hm? Oh, not really.”
Pinkie continued, her eyes closed and her tone a bit more solemn than usual, “My friends are all pretty busy most of the time. They have really important jobs, after all.”
“Important?”
You watched as she snuggled her nose into her folded hooves.
“So then,” you continued uncertainly, “what do you do for fun? I mean, if you don't mind me asking or anything.”
“Well, it's usually just me and Gummy,”
“Gummy?”
“He's my alligator. Gummy is my best non-pony friend,” she said tiredly, “Sometimes we'll go to the park, or make cookies, or just take a walk around Ponyville. But mostly we just stay home and play.”
You scratched the side of your nose. “Well, you know,” you said, “if you wanted, you and I could do something together. After work or ... something.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I mean, I guess,” you said, “I don't see why not.”
Her smile returned for just a moment as she replied, “That would be really nice.”
You couldn't help but smile as well, leaning your head back against the counter for a bit as you closed your eyes and tried to ignore your cramping muscles. Within a few moments, you could hear the sound of quiet breathing coming from the floor nearby.
With a sigh of your own, you stood to your feet once again, and silently chuckled as you watched the forelock of Pinkie's frizzy mane waving back and forth with each rhythmic puff of her breath.
Giving the room one last look around, you started rolling up your sleeves. The sky was already beginning to brighten, meaning that you didn't have much time left to get the shop cleaned before the sun rose on the first day of Winter.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
“Captain! A ship's been spotted off the port bow!” She made cannon noises as she pushed the toy boat about, splashing up to her hocks in fountain water. “It's Gummy the privateer! Prepare for battle!”
You watched the little green alligator contentedly ignore Pinkie Pie as he glided along. You were rather content yourself, slouched against the edge of the fountain, your arm thrown idly over the side. A pair of balloons tied nearby waved about in the breeze and cast shadows on the glittering basin floor.
“Aagg!” she yelled in her sailor voice as Gummy began to chew on the hull of the tiny wooden toy, “I'm hit! Tell my wife to avenge me!”
Suddenly, she threw an urgent look your way.
“Um, is everything ...”
“I need some ice-cream.” With a careless sploosh, she heaved herself out. “I'll be right back!” she called as she turned, and you smiled with a shrug as she galloped away.
The cool breeze that rose from the fountain mixed with the scent of spring blossoms as you waited, lazily watching as Gummy swam about. The sound of pouring water left you sleepy, and with a yawn, you began to trace your fingertips over the surface of the water.
“Excuse me.”
With a start, you turned, looking at the mare with pink and blue curls. “Huh?” you asked in a completely articulate and clever manner.
“My friend here was just wondering if you might like, want to go for a smoothie sometime,” she said, an amused grin on her face.
A heavily blushing green unicorn at her side gave her an angry glance before turning to you with a shy smile.
“I-I don't –”
“Oh,”she exclaimed, “unless you're totally going steady with Pinkie Pie, of course.” She leaned forward, giving you a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows. “Is that it?”
“What, I … it's not,” you stuttered in response, a sudden heat rising to your face.
“Come on, BonBon,” the unicorn whispered “Let's just go.”
“'Cause if not, my friend's had her eye on you for a long time!” she giggled.
The other pony suddenly looked rather traumatized, her red face turning quickly to the ground. Yours did the same before you answered once more, as resolutely as you could.
“It's not like that,” you said, turning back to the fountain. “Pinkie is just a friend. I-I … don't like ponies.” From the corner of your eye, you watched as they both gave you a startled look. “Uh, wait, I didn't mean-”
“Hmph! Well,” you can hear the annoyance in her voice, “If you're going to lie, you don't have to be so rude about it! Doesn't like ponies, huh? Yeah, right.” She turned to her crestfallen friend, “Come on, Lyra. I told you this was a bad idea.”
You stared into the glittering water as they left, silently trying to ignore the gazes of onlookers throughout the park and the whispered insults the curly-haired pony as she and her friend walked away.
“Well, that could have gone better,” you remarked to yourself.
Suddenly, you heard the earth pony call out to her friend. “Lyra, wait! I didn’t mean that you were a pervert!”
As you watched him staring up at you, you tried to imagine that Gummy's expression was one of understanding.
“Hey! I'm back!” Pinkie shouted, throwing herself across the rim of the fountain, “Did you miss me?”
Your smile answered for you as you turned to her, raising an eyebrow at her chocolate covered face. “So, no ice-cream for me then?”
She bit her lip, embarrassed and unable to look you in the eye. “I did get you some but … I guess I dropped it ...”
“Really?”
“... Into my mouth,” she said, twirling her hoof about in the fountain. “Sorry.”
Without warning, a twitchy flutter shook her hind leg. “Uh oh!” she said, “My foot is shakey! That means...” she narrowed her eyes as she scanned the park, “someone needs a balloon!” With a gasp, she sped by, snatching up one of the green balloons she'd tied to the fountain as she went.
You watched curiously as she skipped across the park, the balloon bouncing above her as she hopped about, and approached a young colt and his mother. She greeted them with words you couldn't quite hear, and with a chocolaty smile, tied the balloon to the colt's foreleg. After giving them both a cheerful pat on the head, she bounded back in your direction, oblivious to their bewildered expressions.
“There we go!” she smiled.
You couldn't help but snicker at her adorable enthusiasm. “Pinkie,” you said, “You're really somethin', you know that?”
Once again, she surprised you as she looked away, pawing nervously at the ground with red cheeks, “I'm nothing special,” she said. “Hey!” she said, suddenly perking up, “Did you want a balloon, too?”
You smiled a little wider as you closed your eyes, your hands behind your head as you lay your back against the cool concrete of the fountain, “Sure, Pinkie. Why not?”
“Okay! Catch!”
“Wha –?”
A splash of icy cold liquid leaves you drenched and gasping for breath as Pinkie Pie's laughter breaks through the sound of your sputtering coughs.
Whipping the water from your eyes, you find Pinkie bouncing a water balloon on her hoof. “Would you like another one?” she laughed, a conniving grin plastered upon her face.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
You sat there on the edge of the plaid sheet, the sky vividly blue and streaked with feathery, faraway clouds as Pinkie and the others splashed about in the lake. In spite of the heat, you were quite happy to stay out of the water. You never really were much of a swimmer, anyway.
You smiled to yourself, slouching back and shutting your eyes for a moment as you breathed the rich scent of the summer wind, the sounds of rippling water and laughter filling your ears and the coolness of the ground comforting your fingertips.
“So you work with Pinkie, huh?” the little purple dragon asked as he plopped himself down nearby, rummaging about in the picnic basket. “That must be rough.”
You leaned forward, crossing your arms upon your knees with a shrug. “It's not bad at all, really.”
He responded with a scoff. “If you say so. I know I wouldn't want to try it,” he said as he chomped on a ruby, “But it must be hard being the only ...” he paused for a moment, “What are you again?”
“Um, human?”
“Yeah. The only human in town.”
The air was heavy with the sound of crunching gemstones as you stared off across the water, your mouth buried lazily in the crook of your arm.
“It wasn't easy for me at first, either,” he continued. “I guess nobody had ever seen a baby dragon before. But, hey, it's not like it stayed that way forever. The ponies here are really nice. And some of them,” he said with a goofy grin on his face, “are pretty nice to look at, too.”
It wasn't hard to follow his eyes to Pinkie's white unicorn friend, watching as she fussed about with her beach umbrella, having firmly refused to even touch the “unsafe and unsanitary” water.
You almost had to chuckle at his lovestruck stare as you turned back to the ponies happily swimming about on the shining surface of the lake. Pinkie's laughter sang though the noise as she dove and darted away from the vengeful splashing of her friends, a fake shark fin tied on her head, her mane throwing glittering droplets in the air as she scrambled about. Even from where you were sitting, you could still make out the way her bright smile crinkled her eyelids, and the way her rosy coat seemed to sparkle as she moved through the water.
“Hey! Hey!”
You made sure you'd finished folding the sheet properly before turning a curious eye to Pinkie Pie.
“Come with me!” she urged as she bounced excitedly, “I gotta show you something!”
You looked up, uncertain as the ponies busied themselves with their cleaning, moving about under the long shadows of the hills and cheerfully packing up the remains of the afternoon.
Twilight noticed your reluctant expression, “Oh, don't worry,” she said as she took the sheet off your hands, laying it neatly across the top of the picnic basket, “we can handle everything here. And whatever Pinkie wants, it sounds pretty important.”
Pinkie was already hurrying off, “You guys can go on ahead,” she called, pausing as you moved to follow, “we'll probably be a while.”
You both waved goodbye as the others set out, the bubbling tones of their voices still floating in the evening air, before turning away yourselves. She led you along the border of the lake and across the rolling, grassy plain until finally bringing you to the top of a rather steep hill overlooking the water. She sat down on the peak and motioned energetically for you to join her.
“There it is,” she said, pointing out across the expanse. “Can you see it?”
You searched the landscape as you took a seat, looking down on the clover-dotted fields, even as far as the line of trees arching beyond the lake itself, but couldn't seem to find anything out of the ordinary. “Okay,” you said, “what am I looking for?”
With a disappointed huff, she reached around, laying her hooves on the sides of your head. “It's ri~ight ... there,” she said as she directed your eyes to a dusty brown wilderness, easily overlooked between a pair of forested foothills.
“You mean that desert over there?”
“That's not a desert!” she laughed, “That's my home.”
Her forelegs lay softly around your neck as she leaned on your shoulder. “I came out here 'cause I wanted to show it to you,” she said. “That's the farm I grew up on.”
She drew her hooves back, but kept her head lying gently against you as she spoke. “Me, and my two sisters, and my parents, and my granny all lived there together a long time ago.”
Her voice was filled with nostalgia as she shared her memories, what it was like growing up on the farm, tales of playing instruments and getting into trouble. She laughed as she told you about the time she tried to cut her own mane. She grew quiet when she talked about the day her granny passed away.
The sun slipped lower in the sky, edging deeper behind the hills with every word. Eventually, she came to the end of her stories, and just watched along with you as the horizon grew ever more purple. Images of the old farm were still fresh in your mind as you looked down at her wistful face, her limp curls shining in the low sunlight.
“Thanks for coming out here with me,” she said. “I know you'll always listen to me, even when I say things that don't make sense. I can't really talk like this with anyone else.” Her gaze was still faraway as she stood, stepping forward just a bit along the slope of the hill. “My friends are more important to me than just about anything in the whole world. I mean, I really don't know what I'd do without them,” she said, lowering her eyes as she turned to you.
“But, sometimes, um … ” she stepped close, her cheeks red as she sat down, “sometimes, a friend can have a ... really special place in your heart. You know what I mean?”
Your own heart was in your throat, but you didn't turn away as she looked up at you, her breath passing softly over her parted lips as she waited anxiously for you to respond. “Yeah,” you swallowed, “yeah, I know what you mean.”
She placed the flat of her hoof against your chest with a smile, her eyes shut as she lay her head on your neck. “When I'm with you, you make me feel like I'm something special,” she said. “Like I'm not just some … poor, dumb earth pony.”
You were holding your breath as she raised her head, and touched her lips to yours. Your first kiss was quick, but it left you both red in the face and grinning as she pulled away.
The blue of her eyes seemed to sparkle with happiness in the cover of the evening. Her mane was cool with lake water, falling like ribbons and catching your fingers as you put your hand to her cheek and lifted her head once more.
Your second kiss lasted much, much longer.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
It was a bit warmer than you'd have expected for a day so late in the summer, but otherwise it was the perfect day for a birthday party. The kids didn't seem to mind the heat, anyway.
Pinkie Pie had planned everything, of course. The two of you had spent most of the morning in preparation, decorating and organizing a meeting area in the shade of the old red barn while Applejack kept the birthday filly busy with a trip into town.
Unfortunately, since everypony had shown up, you were left a bit unsure of exactly what to do with yourself. Pinkie Pie was having a good time as always, skipping through the crowd in her clown makeup and baggy polka dotted pants. It was impossible to keep from smiling whenever you saw the looks of surprise on the faces of the little colts and fillies whenever Pinkie the Clown performed one of her magic tricks or handed them a balloon animal.
Honestly, even you couldn't figure out how she'd made those.
“Hey, you came with Pinkie Pie, right?”
You looked down to find Applebloom and her two friends: Rarity's little sister Sweetie Belle and … the orange one. You nearly laughed out loud when you saw them, their faces painted with Rarity's makeup, Applebloom wearing a pair of oversized sunglasses and the orange one in a poofy rainbow wig.
You nodded to their question, but then had to ask, “Why are you all-”
“We're cutie mark crusader party clowns! Yay!” they shouted in unison.
Applebloom eagerly hopped up to you, “So, are you and Pinkie Pie gonna get married soon?”
Stepping back with a start, you stammered as you glanced back and forth between the fillies and Pinkie Pie. “I, uh, I-it-I ...”
The orange one blew a raspberry, “Of course not! A pony can't marry a human! That's dumb.”
“Can so! It just ain’t never happened before is all.”
“ Because it’s weird!”
“I think it's romantic!” Sweetie Belle piped in.
“So how come you like Pinkie, anyway?” the orange one asked suspiciously. “I mean, Pinkie Pie's nice and all but ...”
“She's Pinkie Pie.”
“Yeah.”
“Uh, well, that’s ...” Despite the fact that they were just three tiny little fillies (in clown makeup, no less), you felt yourself withering under their expectant stares. As if that weren't enough, you noticed that you were suddenly the center of attention for quite a few of the other kids, each one watching with curious eyes. Their parents were watching as well, sharing apprehensive whispers and worried looks. You even thought you saw one purple pony eagerly drag a little filly away from you, muttering something that you couldn't quite make out. “That is, well, Pinkie is ...”
“Are you girls botherin' folks again?” Applejack and Pinkie happened to walk up just in time to save you from discussing romance with the fillies.
“We wern't botherin' any one.”
“Yeah, I'll bet y'all weren't. Now, are you 'n the cutie mark crusaders gonna help us eat this here cake or do me and Pinkie hafta finish it all by ourselves?”
With an excited glance at each other, the cuite mark crusader party clowns turned and galloped off through the crowd, a fussy Applejack following close behind.
Pinkie looked to you with a smirk, “So, what were you talking about?”
“Um, well,” you fumbled, “They asked me why I like you.”
“Aa~and? What was the answer?”
“I guess it's because … you're Pinkie Pie,” you said shrewdly.
She tapped her chin thoughtfully, “Yes. That is true.”
A happy voice rang out through the noise, “Lookit that! It really says 'Happy Birthday Applebloom' this time, instead of just a bunch'a squiggles!”
“Applebloom!”
You and Pinkie shared a laugh. “See?” she asked, “I told you she'd notice.”
You shook your head with an amused smile. As you raised your eyes to the crowd of kids and their families gathering around for a slice of cake, a thought popped into your mind.
“Hey, Pinkie Pie, what's a 'foal fiddler'?”
Pinkie seemed startled, and you could see her smile fall away. Her big blue eyes looked up at you for a long moment, and she laughed a forced laugh, “Wh-who would say something like that?”
“One of the parents said something like that when I was talking with the girls just now.”
There was a strange twist in the pit of your stomach as you saw the sad expression behind her makeup. She turned back to the crowd and put her hoof in your hand, “Come on, you should … you should have some cake. You did make it, after all.”
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The broom in your hands was feeling a bit heavier than usual as you swept, removing the last dustings of stray flour from the floor. Suddenly, the back door burst open, slamming against the wall as an excited Pinkie hopped inside, followed quickly by a chilly autumn breeze.
“Brrrr! It's cold out there!” she said, her mint green muffler bouncing with her exaggerated shivers.
“Hey, Pinkie,” you said with a smile, “You have a good time today?”
“Did I!” she shouted, “It was so~o much fun! And you'll never guess what happened! After lunch, Rarity totally surprised everyone with a special makeover! Just look how shiny my mane is!” She tilted her head in your direction to better display her carefully treated curls, which indeed were quite a bit shinier than usual. “She even got my tail. I'm not totally sure how much different that looks, though, since I don't usually look backwards as much as I look forwards, but Rarity said it looks really nice and she usually knows what she's talking about so I'm gonna take her word for it!”
You had to grin at her joyful expression as she made her way to the edge of the room, taking the end of her scarf in her mouth and slipping it off to place it on the coat rack standing by the wall. As she began to turn once more in your direction, she slowed, and then stopped, her attention focused on the corner of the room.
“Hey,” she said, curiously eying the bags you'd left in a pile nearby, “what's all this stuff doing here?”
You hesitated for a bit, and then returned, very deliberately, to your sweeping, “Those are just my things.”
“But why are they here on the floor?”
“Well,” you said “it's because I … don't exactly have anywhere to live right now.”
She looked to the floor and then slowly back to you, her concern displayed clearly in her eyes. “What? What happened?”
You laid the broom aside with a sigh. “There's not really much to tell,” you said. “The owners just said I wasn't welcome there anymore.”
“Why? What will you do now?”
A shrug and a tired smirk were your replies.
Pinkie made her way to you with heavy steps. She wrapped her forelegs carefully about your waist, nuzzling her face softly into your belly.
“It's not fair,” she whispered.
You ran a hand carefully over her curly mane, and then down to her softly fuzzy shoulders. “Come on, Pinkie,” you said, “I'll be fine. It's no big deal. Really.”
She only squeezed you even more tightly as you spoke, her snout pressed gently into the front of your shirt.
All at once, she lept back, a wide smile on her face as she bounced happily about.
“I know! You can come live with me and Gummy!”
Your face fell. “I don't-”
“It'll be great! There's plenty of room, and Gummy already likes you!” she laughed, “It's warm and it smells really good because it's right above the store, and we'll be able to see each other all the time!”
“Pinkie ...”
“I don't think so, young lady!”
Pinkie's hopping stopped abruptly as Mr. and Mrs. Cake strode into the room, their faces stern and fixed in unwavering glares in your direction.
“What?” she asked, “B-but why not?”
“Pinkie, that sort of thing just isn't proper.”
Mr. Cake was even more adamant. “I was against this whole sick thing from the beginning.”
“Honeypie, please ...”
“No, I think it's time somepony spoke up,” he said, stepping forward resolutely. “Now, Pinkie, you're an adult, and you're old enough to make your own decisions. But, gosh, I just couldn't look at myself in the mirror if I allowed some-some ... dangerous weirdo to take advantage of you under my own roof!”
“But- but, no!” Pinkie shouted, “It's not like that!”
“Pinkie Pie, we're just looking out for you,” Mrs. Cake suggested softly. “You don't know what the ponies around town have been saying. We're trying to keep you safe.” With a tired shake of her head, she continued “You're just too naïve, dear.”
Pinkie stomped her hoof, and her eyes began to fill with frustrated tears, “Mrs. Cake,” she shouted, “I'm not stupid!”
“Pinkamina!”
You knelt down, placing a finger gently to Pinkie's cheek before she could say another word. “Hey, Pinkie,” you said quietly, turning her face to meet your own, “Don't worry about it, okay? It's like I said before, I'll be fine.”
Her eyes met yours, and she answered in a small, forlorn voice.
“But it's not right.”
You brought your thumb to the edge of her ear as you gently kissed her forehead. With a smile, you drew away. “You're mane smells really nice, too.”
Pinkie giggled weakly, wiping a bit of moisture from her eyes as you rose to your feet.
You looked once more around the kitchen, and breathed a heavy sigh. “I guess I should probably go.”
The room was silent as you gathered your things from the corner, pulling your coat tight around yourself as you hefted the tangle of packs onto your back.
Pinkie stopped you with a touch of her hoof as you stepped out the door. “Wait,” she said, motioning for you to kneel down once more.
As quickly as you could lower yourself to her eye level, her forelegs were hugging you tightly about your neck. “You'll tell me when you find somewhere to live, right?”
“Yeah. Of course I will.”
“And then,” she sniffed, “I'll put together a housewarming party and … and we'll invite everyone in town. It'll be great.”
“... Yeah.”
Her lips brushed your cheek. And then, reluctantly, she let you go.
You looked back with one last wave as you stepped into the cold evening. And Pinkie Pie waved back from the doorway, surrounded by the orange glow of the kitchen.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The rain was deafening and colored the city a hazy gray, rolling over the empty streets in a torrent as you crouched under your tarp. At least there was never any competition for work on days like these. Of course, there was never any work either ….
Having little else to do, you watched as the water drizzled in a stream from the drooping center of your makeshift shelter, bubbling into the tiny river between the cobblestones. You sniffled, then coughed, the chill in the wind catching you a bit by surprise.
Leaning your back against the white planks of the fence behind you, you raised your sleepy eyes to the horizon where the green of the distant hills stood out in the downpour, the mountain city of Canterlot just barely visible behind the silver curtain of rain.
Your stomach growled as you shifted on your dusty apple-crate seat, splashing your patched-together raincoat as you bumped against the ropes that secured your tarp.
“Hey ...”
Hearing that sweet and familiar voice, a smile was on your face before you could even turn your head. But your smile became a look of concern as you saw Pinkie Pie, a cake box hanging from a string clutched in her teeth, her mane soaked and hanging limp against her head without so much as an umbrella-hat to protect her from the storm.
“Here,” she said as she placed the box on the ground, nudging it with her nose into the safety of your meager tent, “I brought you something for lunch. I made sure it didn't get wet or anything.”
You couldn't take your eyes off her. “Thanks,” you replied. “Pinkie, is everything alright?”
“Oh … yeah ...”
You felt your heart in your stomach as she stood there, not moving, not making a sound, her face half hidden behind her long, smooth mane.
“Um, you know,” she started, “actually, I don't ...”
As she hesitated, your breath caught in your throat.
“Actually, I think that maybe … we shouldn't spend so much time with each other anymore.”
The noise of the falling rain seemed to vanish, your vision blurring as you watched Pinkie for any sign that she didn't mean what you thought she meant.
But for as long as you stared, Pinkie never made a sound.
“... Oh,” you whispered.
And that was that.
Her hooves kicked up little waves as she backed away from the shadow of your shelter. She turned away slowly, and your eyes fell upon the little white cake box she had left you.
As you stared at it, your hands started to tighten over your knees. Your fingers began to twist the fabric of your trousers. Suddenly, your heartbeat was in your ears even through the sound of the storm. Rising to your feet, you reached out for her, your palm against her shoulder. “Hey. Hey! Hold on a minute!”
“No!” She pulled away, slipping through your fingers and falling to the cobblestones with a splash, sliding for just a moment under the force of her weight.
“... ouch.”
Your anger fell away just as quickly, and you stretched out a worried hand to help her up, only to watch her back away as though she were afraid of your touch. “Pinkie Pie, if you want ...” you struggled, your breath shuddering, the tear rolling down your cheek standing out hotly under the cold rain pouring over your face. “If you want to go, then would you at least … tell me why?”
Her forehoof was held to her eyes, her face twisting with sobs. She didn't answer, but simply shook her head, her long mane falling in strings over her face.
“Pinkie, what did I do wrong?” you asked, your voice as firm as you could manage. “What did … what's wrong with me?”
“Nothing!”
“Then why?”
“Because it's all my fault!” she shouted. “I'm sorry! I'm s-sorry! You don't deserve to be treated like this and-and if we weren't together then –”
She squeaked in surprise as you lifted her from the ground.
“No, you can't!” she cried as she struggled against you, pushing away with her forehooves as you wrapped your arms around her. “If you hold me, everyone's gonna see!”
You pulled her in, your face buried in her mane as her frantic kicking subsided, turning to a soft, shaking sob as she fell into your shoulder.
“Let them see, then.”
Her fuzzy, pink skin was so soft under your fingertips. Even through your rain soaked clothes you could still feel the warmth of her body. You were determined that you would never forget what it was like, holding her at that moment.
“Pinkie, if you really want to leave me,” you said, “you just have to say that you hate me, you know? Tell me that you never want to see me again.”
Her eyes were exquisitely soft as she looked up at you, the rain dripping from your hair onto her face, joining with the shower that heavily pelted you both. “I can't.” Her tears continued to fall as she wrapped her forelegs about your shoulders, squeezing her cheek against the crook of your neck. “I'm sorry."
You shut your eyes, the rain flowing over your mouth, the sides of your lips against her hot skin as you held her close.
“There's nothing to be sorry about,” you whispered.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
She rested her head on your chest as the two of you sat together at the top of the hill. You kept her warm inside the folds of your coat, away from the cold wind that blew her hair across your face. For the longest time, you just waited, staring down at Ponyville in the distance.
“Hey, Pinkie Pie,” you asked, just loudly enough to be heard over the brittle rustling of the bare trees, “what do you think it’ll be like? The future, I mean.”
You could hear the smile in her words, and feel the sound of her voice as she answered. “Well,” she muttered with her cheek pressed against you, “someday, we'll have a real house of our own. I'll work at the bakery and you'll work at the farm, and our friends will visit every day. And we'll have a baby girl and everyone....” She paused and laughed a little laugh. “Well, no, I guess we won't have any babies, will we?”
“Pinkie –”
She stopped you, her hoof softly on your mouth.
You took her hoof in your hand. She smiled at you, her cheeks rosy from the cold.
“You know, when I was a filly and I would get sad, there was something that Granny Pie would always tell me,” she said. “'Remember, Pinkie, no matter how much it rains, the sun is always shining behind the clouds.'”
You brought her hoof to your lips, squeezing it gently as you placed a soft kiss on the tip. A melancholy breeze kicked up a swirl of leaves as it passed. You drew her close, and with a tired smile, you laid your chin lightly on her head as she snuggled into your threadbare coat.
