Derpy's Bebop

It had been raining for days. The weather ponies had planned a storm to keep Sweet Apple Acres untouched by the heat wave coming from south but, as usual, Rainbow Dash had exaggerated the quantity of clouds needed, and now half of Ponyville was soaking wet, while the other half was dry as a bone. Though this was a very interesting atmospheric phenomenon, some ponies were not happy with how things had changed…

“It really had to be the half where I lived, didn’t it?” Blues groaned, annoyed.

Every attempt to dispel the clouds or move them away hadn’t worked, not even the unorthodox idea of calling in unicorns had helped. Unfortunately, Twilight had been called to Canterlot by the princesses several weeks before, to solve a thorny situation near the borders of the dragons’ territory and still hadn’t returned. Someone had suggested seeking the help of “The Great and Powerful Trixie”, but she ended getting kicked out of town when one of her spells changed the climate from cloudy to icy. Now precipitations of hail and snow occurred every day, instead of just rain. After this last effort they decided to let the clouds move by themselves, as they were slowly doing.

In those days, the whole mail route had been assigned to a single pegasus, Ditzy Doo - better known by the nickname of Derpy Hooves. Blues, being a relatively solitary colt, had seen her only a few times, but in those rare occasions, he had always tried to greet her as warmly as possible, especially in those days when he saw the poor mare deliver the mail with ice on her wings.

One time the hail had suddenly transformed into deadly chunks of ice, as big as golf balls. He had convinced the reluctant mailmare to stay with him inside until the end of the storm, pouring her a cup of hot cocoa and playing one of his favorite songs on the sax, the "Farewell Blues". She seemed a little... well, blue, and Blues was an expert in understanding those kind of feelings. Not that Derpy was usually jovial, even though she was always smiling. It seemed almost as if her smile was just a mask, covering her true emotions. He could picture her, looking at herself in a dimly lit room, practicing that smile in front of a mirror. Every now and then he could catch a glimpse of the real her, especially when he called her name, as if the sound of that word could shatter her disguise for a second.

Today was going to be another seemingly normal day for him, his mind full of thoughts, his back begging him to go back to sleep… but when he opened the door to the wall eyed pegasus her expression struck him. A look full of hatred, and perhaps… sadness? He couldn’t tell. It had been too rapid. She quickly recovered herself and showed him a large smile. “Mail’s here! So, this is the last package for today, I hope? It was pretty heavy.”

By God it was heavy. It was the new brass saxophone he had ordered one month before. His father’s sax, the one he had been using for all these years, had become unusable with time and there was nothing he could do to fix it. The instrument was dented, some keys could not be used, the metal was rusting and the bell had thinned so much that the notes came out empty and lifeless. He’d decided to take a second job plowing the Acres to earn some extra money and had bought another one using his hard earned cash and the funds he kept for emergencies.

“Yeah. I’m sorry you had to do all that flying through the rain, but from here to Pony Symphony is three hours of walking and with my new job, I just can’t leave home for no reason other than work. Plus, my back hurts like hell and… and I’m rambling like an old fart while you’re freezing.” He moved aside, made an inviting gesture and smiled. “ Wanna come in, Derpy? If you can take some time off your schedule, of course. I’m dying to hear how this new one sounds!”

“Thanks, but no. Gotta go. There’s... still mail I need to deliver. S-See ya!” she quickly turned her back at him, shook her already soaked wings and disappeared into the thick fog.

Blues, dazed by her speed, remained still for a couple of seconds on his doorstep, shook himself out of his temporary paralysis and closed the door behind him.

***

Ditzy was fighting to keep her tears back, but she knew that was a battle she couldn’t win. Every time the same series of events kept happening. Blues’ house always had to be the last on her route, no matter what she had to deliver, even if today carrying that saxophone for so much time had really shattered her back.

(oh for hell’s sake I’m starting to talk like an old fart too)

They’d talk about this and that, she’d try to run away as soon as she could, unable to endure that torture for much, feeling her eyes watering, and she would burst into tears on the way home.

It was that name. That stupid nickname they had given her years ago, before she even had become a mailmare. Of course, it didn’t affect her now as much as it did before, though she would never forget the days and nights spent crying with her face presses against the pillow, trying to get rid of the pain the only way she knew. Still she had grown out of it, even joking about it with her friends every now and then.

But… Him.

She didn’t know what she felt for Blues, always kind, always gentle, never laughing behind her back. He really seemed interested when they talked, whatever the subject, and he was a good listener, too... but most of all he was a good musician.

She loved music. The way a song could rock her entire being or soothe her, make her ponder or forget about every problem, like a charm. Blues was certainly one of the most talented saxophonists she had ever seen in her life, he played his instrument “as if he had been born with it in his hooves” like one of the regulars at the Blue Note once said. When he played, sometimes it almost seemed like he was splitting in two, playing two rhythms and tones at the same time, mixing them up in an incredible harmony, blending unearthly low tones with barely audible high pitched notes.

The first time she had heard him playing, months before, she went into rapture over his changes of tone and velocity, his haunting slow songs and those so quick she couldn’t even follow the rhythm with her hoof. When she had been listening to him, the chatter, the noise of raising glasses and moving chairs had begun to dim slowly, fading into nothingness. Everything around her had disappeared. She wasn't sitting on a stool anymore, but floating... there was nothing but the music and that blue colt playing the sax, while she was being cradled by a sweet embrace of notes, losing herself completely in the flow, only to wake up suddenly when he had finished playing. She now knew that if there was a Heaven, she touched it every time she heard him play, with his coat as blue as a pool of sapphires placed on the bottom of the sea.

But every time they met, he called her with that name, mocking her. Except for being addressed continuously as “Derpy”, Blues had never done anything to arouse hostility towards her, but it was that which made his sarcasm sharper. He treated her with respect, but kept calling her with that nickname, always smiling, making it somehow heavier for her to bear. Why did he do that? It made her want to punch that polite smile out of his face, then suddenly hating herself for thinking that and then angry for feeling weak and helpless. Maybe she was overreacting, nobody so kind could seriously-

Then that name, spoken as if it was nothing, as if it was the most normal thing in the world and not a stupid joke which had never been funny. Said from others it had the same effect as of a drop of water poured in an endless ocean, but when he did, the feeling was the same one of a chair being smashed on her face with incredible strength. Its splinters were always painful to take out, and every now and then she would find one that she had forgot to pull out, thinking about him while lying in bed, staring at the celing... nothing but him in her mind in those restless, painful nights.

All because of a simple fact. She had finally understood.

She loved his music and, out of mere consequence, loved him. In her brain something had been turned on, an overwhelming passion, the need to feel him close to her, to touch him as he whispered sweet words to her, listening him play something, anything, alone with him on a grassy hill watching the sun setting and the stars slowly appearing and twinkle for them.

It was almost as if a defective connection had turned on two lights in two different rooms together, with the click of a single switch.

She would wake up in the morning and, without a reason, think of what scent his hair could have in that moment. Random questions about him just came to her in any moment of the day: what was he doing? Was he thinking about her? Maybe right now he was knocking at her door to say hello… and other incoherent thoughts that saddened her throughout the day.

She cried because she couldn’t feel him by her side. For him she was just a stupid mail pegasus, a joke to laugh about. She cried because of her damned eyes.

Not that she hadn’t tried to fix them. One year before she had even asked Celestia to help her, but in the way back home to Ponyville, after the “treatment” she had given her, everyone had been staring at her more than usual, someone even laughing. She hadn’t realized what the princess had done until she looked at herself in a mirror… and understood why they had been calling her “Bright Eyes” on the road home.

Her pupils had become big topazes of a dun yellow, the color of molten gold, quite odd and just too garish, even if they worked.

She had asked the sun goddess to change her back a week later and, after a brief explanation of how she had to change the complete look of her irises in order to make her see straight, she told herself that since she had only changed an old nickname with another one, if not even one of the celestial sisters could fix those eyes of hers, all she could do was to deal with it.

Lost in her train of thought, she didn’t see the tree in front of her until the very last second, her vision dimmed by the fog and tears flowing freely from her eyes.

She hit her temple and badly bruised her forehead, but she couldn’t care less. she had already fallen into unconsciousness.

***

(Raindrops. It’s starting to rain, look at that. I should have taken an umbrella.)

Ditzy opened her eyes and quickly got up from the ground. the fog had disappeared, but-

(Why is my head hurting so much?)

She rubbed her forehead, trying to ease her pain, only to unintentionally scrape off some coagulated blood.

Oh.

She quickly thought about what had happened. All her bottled up emotions that had desperately tried to get out for so long exploded in an outburst of anger. Her feathers ruffled, her pulse quickened. She let out an animal roar and just shouted the first thing that came to her mind.

“FUCK YOU, TREE!… AND FUCK YOU, BLUES!”

Right now she didn’t really care about anything but to beat the ever-loving crap out of him.

If anyone could have seen her then, they would have looked at her with fear, her wings spread open, her hooves fiercely kicking the ground, primeval rage on her face, ready to strike. Her legs moving on their own, she ran as fast as she could to the house of her hated love.

Yet... her fury was slowly being replaced by sadness. by the time she was halfway from his house, she was already questioning her actions, but, as if her mind had been brutally torn off from her body, all she could do was run towards him, attracted by a greater force than her.

She started crying again when she saw his doorstep and walked to it, her head down. Her tears were trailing down her face, mingling with the rain.

“Here it is,” she thought blankly. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t even know if what had just happened was real, or she was just kicking her bedsheets and screaming, covered in sweat. All she wanted to do was to stay under that rain for days,

(Is it really rain? what If I’m imagining it too?)

not thinking. Just she and the night. Forever.

She knocked on the door, barely conscious of having done anything. With every knock she felt some of her energy and anger return, slowly regaining consciousness of her surroundings. First she started tapping hesitantly, then harder, until the very frame of the door started shaking.

Blues opened the door and what he saw filled him with pity. A mud covered pony was standing before him, looking at him and shaking, her blonde mane flattened by the rain, a red blood-stain spreading just above her eyes.

“Derpy?” the blue colt said, genuinely worried. “Oh God, what happened?”

“Why…” the mare sobbed. “Why do you keep…”

Something snapped inside her. She started screaming, freeing all her emotions in an explosion of anger.

“WHY DO YOU KEEP CALLING ME THAT!”

Unable to control her actions, she tackled him and hugged him, pinning him to the ground. “Please,” she whispered in his ear, “please, just stop calling me Derpy…”

***

Blues hugged her back gently, as hundreds of thoughts raced through his mind,

(was it something I said? What happened to her? Is that blood? Oh god she’s so soft)

so many he couldn’t keep track of them. They stayed like that for what he felt like an eternity, in a sweet, cold embrace, the rain still falling outside.

He had been dreaming of her for months. It happened quickly... how do poets say it? Love at first sight? He had never believed in that sort of thing. Not that he wasn’t a romantic type, far from that, it was just that it seemed so unreal, so naive to fall in love with a mare by just looking at her. Wouldn’t that be considered just physical attraction? what about her personality? Could you really call that love, or was it just an infatuation?

He had finally understood what they had meant when he had seen her in that bar. She was drinking a weird, reddish drink with a straw, maybe a Cosmopolitan, he didn’t know, and looking down into her glass. When he had started playing, he had seen her freeze in the spot completely. She had moved her head up and it was in that moment he had seen it. He had looked inside those golden eyes, seeing a pure radiant joy in them, complete and utter happiness. He had lost himself into her eyes and had stopped playing, entranced. Did his music do that? Could it really be? He had always been told he was good, but no compliment he had ever received could be compared to that look, as if he had just given her a new reason of existence.

Fortunately he was improvising at the moment, so the audience thought if was only part of the song, but Blues had been struck that night. He had seen the face that would sweetly haunt his nights for the months to come. Only later he found out what her name was, having asked it to one of his band members, who couldn’t help but laugh while saying it.

He started to stroke her hair, her beautiful golden mane, wet at the touch. He could feel the heat of her skin on his hoof, but it wasn’t enough. He put his cheek on her neck, without thinking, just trying to feel her warmth, to be closer to her. She stopped sobbing and closed her eyes, feeling both their hearts starting to beat a little faster. Blues reluctantly put his head down on the wooden floor and looked at her in those tiny, watering suns.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for anything that I said or did that might have hurt you. Just... just don’t cry anymore. Please.”

He moved his chin upwards and kissed her under the eyes, moving down, following the trail of her tears. He kept doing it for several minutes, continuing even when she had stopped crying. It was too hard to stop, his mind lost in her scent. He just wanted to cuddle her, keep her close to him and tell her everything was all right, see her smile.

She started nuzzling his neck, returning his tenderness, moving from his chin down to his shoulders, then up again until their noses touched.

“I forgive you.” She whispered. He could taste her hot breath in his mouth

(wild berries so sweet and tangy)

so tempting… he couldn’t control himself, he wanted more.

It just happened. The kiss, at first chaste and with their lips closed, blossomed like a flower, opened and soon filled with nectar. She felt his tongue touching her lower lip and tried, timidly, to reach for it with hers. His hooves started rubbing her back, which made her wings unfurl and spread, casting a shadow on their bodies, only lit by a light bulb hanging from the floor. When he caressed the underside of one of her wings, she let out an involuntary sigh, which echoed inside their jointed throats, and was returned when she started to plant kisses on his neck. Lost in the heat of the moment, Ditzy didn’t expect what happened then.

“S-so …” Blues panted, stopping for a minute.” What should I call you now?”

“What do you mean?” She was sincerely puzzled.

“if I can’t call you Der-… I mean, If I can’t call you that way, what should I call you now?”

She slowly recomposed herself and thought for several minutes, her body still pressed against his, in an awkward position, until an idea started taking form. What if-

“You thought that was my real name?”

“I asked a friend of mine after I had seen you months ago… at the Blue Note, remember? I was too nervous to ask it myself. It isn’t?”

Ditzy smiled and then her lip trembled. She started to laugh, a honest laugh, like she hadn’t had in months. All her fears, her doubts and sadness, had been taken away from her, as if an invisible force had removed an incredible burden from her back. She looked at him, kissed him full on the lips and smiled, with tears in her eyes:

“My name is Ditzy Doo, and I Love You.”