By Grace

by TheAmazingMe


Chapter 2: Good Graces

"What are you doing home so early?" Grace asked as Note walked in. The stallion in question was the picture of irritation. His flank twitched, the red coat rippling as Juri let out a low sigh. He ruffled his own brown mane with one hoof before unlatching his saddlebags, revealing his cutie mark. Grace's eyes lingered on his friend's flank, admiring the justice scales atop a pile of papers.

Juri avoided slamming his bag down by the slimmest of margins. The noise pulled Grace's attention back to the matter at hoof. "Absolutely useless day. Got nothing done. Even my teacher's assistants were restless all day. Some fool thought it would be funny to make a threat on the campus. On lockdown half the day before they decided to clear out the entire school. Sent everypony home early."

Grace's ears perked up in an instant. "A threat? Is everything okay?"

Josi waved a hoof, his fatigue apparent in the slowness of his movements. The energy of irritation was suddenly evaporating. "Yes, it's fine. Some former staff member decided to get his tail in a knot and made some uncouth suggestions about the best way to demolish the main hall with ponies still inside. Given that he taught a class on destructive magic, his friend decided to report him."

"Yikes, I'd hope so." Grace remarked, moving to gather a cup of water for Juri.

Juri accepted the cup gratefully. He drank before continuing. "It was the picture of controlled chaos. Guards scoured everywhere for him, even on campus. They ended up finding him in a bar where he repeated all of this malarkey. He's been arrested. Still, everypony was so keyed up it would have been impossible to get anything of significance done."

Grace’s eyes slowly returned to normal size from the widened stare he’d displayed from the beginning of the crazy tale. “I could only imagine. Something like this doesn’t happen every day, thank Luna.”

Juri opened his mouth, about to say something. He snapped it shut and waved a hoof around, as if to dispel the fog of that thought. “Let’s talk about something else,” he announced.

Grace cocked an ear up, but went along. “Okay. Have you eaten today?”

Juri’s forehooves crossed in front of him, he sat looking like the very picture of indignation. Ears stood straight, jaw clenched, and a deep breath that promised to be either a huffy rebuttal or a resonant defense.

Noting the look, Grace shook his head and pointed to his friend with one hoof. “Nope, you can’t give me that attitude. Who collapsed on his first day back at school just because he was too stubborn to pay for a meal at the staff cafeteria?”

Juri threw both hooves up. “It was so expensive though! I could’ve gone to a restaurant downtown and spent less on something much more filling. And I didn't collapse.”

Not to be dissuaded, Grace placed one forehoof on his side and leaned against the wall. “Sure about that? You seemed pretty wiped out on the couch the second you got back. Nope, you were too stubborn. Now answer the question like a good boy.”

“My stomach's in too many knots for a proper meal.” Juri admitted, looking away.

Grace merely shrugged at the thought. "How about a snack? I've got a few apples in the fridge if that sounds good. Might even have enough for a small pie. Maybe a few turnovers."

Juri sighed. "Thanks, I think the apple will do."

Grace nodded, turning towards the fruit bowl in the kitchen and selecting a few apples. "Sure, would you like an Envy or a Pink Lady?"

"A what?" Juri asked, cocking one ear up halfway.

Grace answered absently as he levitated a pair of the fruit in question. "Envy is a bit more solid but still very flavorful. Almost like an apple pie without the pie. A Pink Lady is a bit sweeter and slightly softer."

Juri frowned before asking, hesitantly, "These are apples?"

"Uh, yeah." Grace said as he straightened up, confused by the tone in Juri's voice.

Juri lifted up both forehooves. "Aren't all apples the same?"

Grace's eyes widened again. "Woah. No. Are you kidding? There are tons of different varieties!" Tossing one of the apples in Juri's direction, Grace helped himself to the other.

Catching it deftly, Juri cocked his head. "I didn't realize. I guess apples pretty much all look the same to me."

Grace's eyes lit up and he practically pranced into the living room. "Do you feel up for a walk? The farmer's market on the pier down the way will illustrate just how wrong you are! It's on me."

"You know you don't have to..." Juri waved with the hoof holding the apple, but was cut off by Grace grabbing his hoof insistently.

Grace's gaze was strangely intense. "Yes. Yes I do. C'mon, let's go!"

Grace and Note made the quick trip to the farmer's market. Thanks to the ships in the pier, there was always a wide assortment of just about anything from just about everywhere.

"What about these?" Juri asked as he pointed to some familiar red fruit.

Grace looked, but then snorted. "Those are the ones I'm sure you're used to. Red Delicious. The ground floor of apples. I will admit, I've had some bad apples and most of them have been Red Delicious. So, generally my rule is they only live up to half their name."

"And these?" Juri asked as they passed another display of apples.

Grace piped up promptly. "Granny Smiths. The go-to tart apple. Most pies you see are made with these because they hold up so well in an oven and their taste goes well with cinnamon and sugar."

Juri tapped his bottom lip with a hoof as he looked them over. "I think I've heard the names before. I guess I just thought of them mostly as red or green apples. What about these green apples?"

Grace looked them over and selected a few. "Golden Delicious. Usually you'll find these turned into applesauce. Very sweet. More yellow than green, but they tend to sell just a little under-ripe." Before Juri could inquire further, something caught Grace's eye and he galloped over to another stand. "Yes! There are some late-crop Galas here. Usually you get these from cold-storage or controlled-atmosphere rooms, but from midsummer until about mid-fall they are naturally fresh. Galas are my go-to apple.

Juri caught up as Grace filled a bag. "This is...a side of you I haven't really seen lately. You're so excited!

Grace looked back with a smile and levitated some more apples. "Well, let me find a Honeycrisp and we'll see if you don't agree with me. Oh! Speak of the devil. Yes, I'll take a five pounder of these. Small to medium sized, please. If you have it, at least. These are huge."

As they walked away, Juristic Note couldn't help but to snort. With a quick calculation of the bits Grace passed around like they were going out of style, Juri shook his head. "Do you have any idea how much you just spent on apples?"

Grace shrugged good-naturedly, a genuine ear-to-ear smile playing across his face for what felt like the first time since arriving in Manehatten. "Worth it. Believe me."

"I gotta admit, I was apprehensive about you joining me when I left. I knew we were friends, but..." Juri trailed off, suddenly aware of how much he was admitting.

Grace nodded. "I know. Believe me, I know how hard it is to live with a musician. Money drives ponies apart.

"Not just that, I mean." He slowed down a touch and Grace paused to stay in step. "I...I mean. Well, personality-wise, ponies don't tend to get along with me for extended periods. Generally. I have a hoof-full of friends, in spite of my best efforts to be friendly."

Grace bumped flanks with Juri softly. "Hey, I'd rather not have to share you with too many other ponies anyway. If you were too much of a pony pleaser, I'd never see you."

Juri whipped his head around so quickly Grace was surprised it didn't crack. For a moment, Grace could've sworn Juri was just a touch more red than usual. The rest of the trip home was filled mostly with more of Grace's laughter than Juri had heard in a while.

***

Grace dressed up to hit the club. Word of mouth had it that the dress code of the Lemonlight was decidedly old-school. Grace wore a black suit jacket with red pinstripes, a red silk shirt and black bowtie, red silk hoof-cuffs, and a jet black top hat for good measure. The red complimented Juri just a touch more than it did Grace. Juri's red coat fit much better than Grace's snow-white. At least the top hat covered his messy black mane. In spite of his Grace's nerves, his blue eyes were alight with excitement.

Where Juri had found such a hat was beyond Grace's care at the moment. Juri was back to pulling late nights at the school again. If it wasn't a class, it was a study into criminology and all the accompanying esoteric statistics. Grace's own career path seemed to be heading into a remarkably different direction.

The Lemonlight Club wasn't what Grace expected. This was no seedy dive, nor was it a bustling nightspot. Grace actually passed it twice while on the look for it. Of all the unlikely places to be the gold standard of evening entertainment, this small cathedral was an absurd oxymoronic statement. Grace couldn't believe his eyes. Manehatten was an older city and this site proved it. That a building once dedicated to organized religion still stood, albeit drastically re-purposed, was a testament to that history. Its sign was quite clear; the Lemonlight was here.

Uncertainty still held Grace in its grip as he walked up the pathway to the cathedral door. For a club, it was remarkably quiet. It wasn't until the door-stallion lit his horn and heaved the heavy door open that the wave of music hit him. At first, the sound was definitely a throwback to days long gone by; violin, horns, piano all played well and in a jaunty, jumpy tune. Then the drums and bass hit and the tune turned captivating. Grace found himself walking to the beat. Walking around the circular bar area, Grace looked ahead to where the altar had once stood. In its place was an altar of another sort, featuring a white-coated, blue-maned unicorn mare at an advanced-looking turntable setup.

"She makes it look effortless, doesn't she?" A voice called out above the lively din. Grace turned around to look at the speaker. A bartender stood, leaning his forehooves on the bar as he looked out over the dance floor. Walking towards the bar, Grace cast a glance back, noticing the packed dance floor. Even on a weekday, it was busier than any club he'd been to before.

"Who is she?" Grace asked as he jerked a hoof in the unicorn's direction, trying to make conversation. Unfortunately, the music cut out at the worst possible moment and his raised voice echoed off of the stone wall interior. He could practically feel the weight of attention fall on his back. Resolutely, he stiffened, intent on not turning around. The music picked back up and the atmosphere returned to normal.

The bartender was in stitches. As Grace turned his withering glare upon the employee, the stallion waved a hoof and brought himself back under control. "Sorry, that was too good. I guess you're new to this music scene."

"You could say that," Grace said drily.

The bartender got back to work, mixing a few drinks as he spoke. "Well it's not always Miss Turntables over there. We have a live band most of the time. She's a special one, though. Real popular in most circles, although she comes from Ponyville. For whatever reason, she chose here for a little impromptu engagement. Unannounced. Otherwise you'd probably never have gotten in."

Grace eyed the casual movements of the bartending stallion. As the drinks floated by, he spoke up. "Mint Julep? Seriously?"

The bartender rolled his eyes and laughed. "Old style tonight. Some ponies take it real seriously. I've even gotten into fights about how to prep it."

"Well, if you're using a frost spell as you pass it, I could see how some earth ponies would call you out on it." Grace said. "Aren't you pre-chilling the glasses?"

With a shrug, the bartender pulled out a fresh glass. "I'd love to, problem is the glass-chiller is down until tomorrow. And if I use the other freezer, I'd have to go all the way around the bar. My levitation isn't great without a line of sight."

"Use the frost spell before instead of after." Grace suggested, with a shrug.

The bartender paused, then laughed. "I don't know why I didn't think of that."

"You get busy enough, and even I would forget my own name." Grace said charitably.

Smacking his forehead, the bartender shook his head. Extending his other hoof, he piped up. "Sunrise Mixer. You can probably guess my specialty."

Grace took the hoof and shook it. "Graceful Bass. You can probably guess mine."

Sunrise nodded. "Yeah, the heart-shaped bass clefs are also a killer clue. Music. I assume you at least sing?"

With a nod, Grace tapped the bar and smiled. "Mix up a Julep and I'll tell you what else I can do."

As the Mint Julep floated over, he heard a snicker beside him. With a start, he realized that the unicorn at the turntables was now beside him. Her purple-tinted glasses caught his attention, but her cerise eyes underneath held it. She gazed at him over the rim of her glasses. "If that's what you're drinking, then it's no surprise you don't know who I am."

Taking a swig, Grace turned and addressed his bar-neighbor. "Well, what would someone who knows who you are drink?"

Setting her glasses down, the DJ met his challenging gaze with determination of her own. "Something...harder."