Fleur de Lis frowned at the feather duster that her magic was currently ensorcelling. Nothing about this felt right to her. Dusting was not something which she was meant to be doing. Such a menial task was beneath her, better left to the hired help. She was a model, a beauteous creature meant to be admired. For a pony such as herself, housework was something that was casually observed between sips of a fine sparkling cider. To actively participate in the cleaning of one's own house was an incredibly alien idea to her, one which she found positively revolting.
And yet she did it anyway. As much as she detested the idea of it, she stuck through it out of love for her husband. Fancy Pants had been quite disappointed yesterday evening when their usual maid had informed him that she would not be able to come to work today due to a family emergency. He did so enjoy having a clean home. Fleur did as well, as she wished for her home to be as lovely as she. When Fancy suggested that she do some cleaning, though, she could not believe her ears. Granted, she was between modeling jobs at the moment and had little to do outside of lounging around the house while Fancy was at work, but that did not mean that she should be relegated to cleaning duty. It took quite a bit of begging, as well as promises of a fine new dress that she'd had her eye on, to convince her to perform this task. Fleur considered Fancy to be lucky that she loved him so much. She figured she could have easily gotten a set of shoes and a spa trip out of him, but did not wish to take too much advantage.
Fleur continued to stare at the feather duster in disdain for a few more moments. She had spent the majority of her day putting off this task, but with Fancy set to arrive back home in roughly 15 minutes, she figured it was about time to start. She hummed quietly to herself, trying to figure out how exactly to do this. After a minute or so, she recalled a previous modeling gig in which she was showing off a maid uniform. She smiled, proud of her own ingenuity, and began doing exactly what she had done in that gig. Slowly but surely, and with a fair amount more posing and posturing than the job called for, she began to make progress in her task.
Something made Fleur stop suddenly in the middle of her task. Her eyes darted to the right, positive she'd noticed some manner of movement in her peripheral vision. Her head turned in the direction of the movement, but she saw nothing out of the ordinary. She figured that doing such menial labor was making her delirious, and attempted to get back to work without worrying about it. She wasn't able to continue her work for long, though, as another movement caused her to halt. She was beginning to worry now; she was certain that Fancy would not be arriving home this early, and that meant that she was supposed to be alone in the house. After a moment, she summoned up her courage and set the feather duster down, then glanced to the right again. Then she saw him.
Fleur nearly let out a shout of panic, but quickly closed her mouth. He hadn't noticed her yet, and she hoped to keep it that way. The mare shook terribly, unaware of how he'd even gotten into the house. She hadn't even known that such unsavory types lived in the area, but there he was, clear as day, right in front of her face. She considered attacking him, but she couldn't bring herself to get any closer, and her nervousness was so bad that she couldn't even concentrate enough to light her horn up.
The model looked side to side, considering her options. There was nopony else in the house that she could call to for assistance. If she attempted to run, he would surely see her and pursue. She backed up slowly, hoping that he wouldn't catch sight of her. His head began to turn in her direction, and she gasped quietly. Thankfully for her, something grabbed his attention, and he looked in the other direction before he could notice her.
Fleur's heart was nearly beating out of her chest. That was too close for comfort. She needed to get out of here before he spotted her. She took a look at the clock on the wall. Fancy was due home in about three minutes. All she needed to do was hide away somewhere where she couldn't be found, and then her big, strong stallion would come home and save her from the terrible invader. She took a deep breath, formulating a gameplan. She worked as hard as she could to break through her terror and get her magic working. Her horn finally lit up, and she slowly levitated the feather duster. Slowly, carefully, she pulled it back, trembling and praying that this would work. The scared mare let the duster fly, hurling it against the wall near the invader. His attention was immediately drawn to the point of impact, allowing Fleur to skitter out of the room unnoticed. She made her way to the living room and slipped into the closet, where she was certain he would not find her.
Fancy Pants finally arrived home. Running Canterlot's most prominent clothing chain was not an easy job, especially with how much the Canterlot elite depended on fine clothing to show off their status. Today had been a long day for sure. He had been kept an hour later than usual, and he was quite happy just to be home. He set his briefcase down by the closet, when he was suddenly accosted by a white hoof. He felt himself be dragged into the closet with a level of force that he did not expect.
"Fancy!" Fleur whispered to her husband. "Why are you home so late? I have been in here for an hour!" Fancy tried to respond, but Fleur would not allow a word. "There is an invader in the house!"
"An invader?" Fancy asked, frowning.
"He is in the kitchen!" Fleur whispered back. "Go get him!" With that, she nudged Fancy out of the closet. Fancy was a bit bothered and confused, but he cleared his throat and put on a determined face. This was his home, and he would not stand for an invader. He strode briskly into the kitchen, ready to thrash whatever fool had decided to enter his home without permission. Fleur quickly slipped out of the closet, following closely behind her love.
Fancy looked around the room for the invader. Suddenly, Fleur's hoof shot out.
"RIGHT THERE!" Fleur shouted. Fancy's head whipped in the direction of her hoof. He got into a battle stance, ready to take out the cur that dared to set hoof in his home. He quickly deflated once he saw the object of Fleur's fear; a small black spider.
"...Really, lovey?" the stallion asked. When Fleur would not answer, he rolled his eyes and lit up his horn. The newspaper that was on the counter was surrounded in his magical aura, and he quickly rolled it up and brought it down on the "invader."
"My hero!" Fleur cried, draping herself over him. Fancy sighed an exasperated sigh. At least she had remembered to dust.