“Furious, stop laughing… this isn’t funny, this is serious, real serious. Now stop laughing.”
There was no way he could stop laughing now, and maybe not ever. His bride—still hungover—stood beside the hospital bed, looking crestfallen and woebegone. Three shiny steel staples secured his ear back to his skull after getting a tear near the base when he had cracked his head into the ceiling. Landing on the cart had injured other places.
This day, from start to finish, was memorable. It was, perhaps, quite possibly, the most unforgettable day in his life, and he had seen some interesting days. He hoped that this was just the first of such special days, and looking into the dejected eyes of his wife, he hoped to make a lifetime out of days like this one. Something that sounded very much like a sad trombone made the moment downright surreal, although Furious had no idea what surrealism was.
It just wasn’t his foghorn full of frogs.
“Furious, stop laughing, I feel terrible… I almost killed you.”
“Naw, I wouldn’t go that far,” he drawled. Gazing into her eyes, he was overcome with emotion. This had been a special day and Crop Duster… she was a special mare. “I was distracted. You know, having myself a powerful think. For the life of me, I can’t seem to recall whatever it was I was having a think about, but I was real wrapped up in it and when you done did what you did, why, I reckon it just spooked me a little, that’s all.”
“I… I… Furious, I don’t know if I love you just yet, but I do have some strong feelings about you. You just came into my life today and I… I am not ready to lose you just yet. I’ve told you my fantasies. My secrets. I’ve told you about the embarrassing stuff that I could never say to anypony else. I’ve bared my heart and soul to you and I already have a powerful attachment to you… something I didn’t think would be possible. If somepony had told me this morning that I’d just about be in love before the end of the day, I would have called them a liar.”
“That’s a lot to think about.” Furious’ voice was a low, slow drawl. Lifting a foreleg, he patted the bed beside him. “Get up here, little wife.”
“Oh no, I don’t think I should. This is a hospital room and you’re injured.”
“Comfort me, little wife.” He kept patting the bed beside him and scooted himself over just a bit, as much as he dared. Any closer to the edge and he ran the risk of falling off. She was chewing on her lower lip yet again and her eyebrows were doing impressive gymnastic exercises. It was obvious that she was torn between doing what she felt was right and doing what she was told. He tried again. “Just lay beside me. It ain’t spooning.”
A coy giggle made her let go of her lip and the laughter from one end caused the other to react. She flicked her tail around while her eyes darted from side to side, and then made up her mind. With a bit of hesitant caution, she clambered up into the bed and then settled in, laying on her stomach beside Furious, who was supine.
“I’m in bed with a member of the opposite sex… this feels naughty,” she whispered as she made herself comfortable. Breathy giggles could be heard for a moment, and then they faded away when she focused on the staples in her husband’s ear. “Furious, I’m so sorry—”
“Stop that.” He squirmed a bit to get comfortable, and settled against her side, where it was warm and inviting. He reached up with his foreleg, placed it alongside her cheek, and then with a gentle nudge, he drew her head closer, almost within kissing range. The only reason he stopped was because he saw a spooked look in her eyes and he felt every muscle in her body go tense, which in turn caused a panicked poot.
“What are you going to do, Mister Mustache?” she asked with a faint squeak in her voice. Her breathing sounded strained and her breath seemed to catch in her throat. She pulled her forelegs in close and was almost laying on them. Feathers ruffled as she extended her wing and placed it over her husband’s stomach, covering him.
“I done reckon I’m gonna spend some time looking into yer eyes,” he replied.
There, witnessed by the pale green walls with pastel yellow accents, the first real tender blossom of love opened, revealing itself to the world like a rose blooming to welcome the sun. A reassuring touch was all that was needed to drive away fright, and where two lips had pressed tight a moment before, a smile appeared while a body relaxed.
It was also at this moment that Princess Cadance chose to throw open the door without knocking.
“You know, when I first received the report, I just knew it was going to be the two of you,” Princess Cadance said as she burst into the room, exhausted but ecstatic. She stood beside the bed where two much smaller ponies were now frozen in terror and gazed down at them with wide, adoring eyes. “Funny story… I was busy trying to nurture a newfound spark of love when a guard comes along with the news that somepony cracked his head open and concussed himself. Before she said anything else, I already knew it was you. I mean, who else could it be on this eventful day?”
“I also scalded my cutie mark on my left side when the teapot cracked open.”
“Oh, you poor dear, I’m sorry to hear that.” Warm concern filled the princess’ eyes and her lips pressed tight together for a moment while she lowered her head down to look at the shiny steel staples in Furious’ ear. “Under normal circumstances, I would be able to heal that in a jiffy, but I am dead on my hooves. It’s been a trying day to say the very least and I don’t have much left in me. My magic is nothing but dry-fires at this point.”
“That’s okay, you don’t need to do anything.” Furious felt Crop Duster press up beside him and she trembled with every breath. Out of the corner of his only eye, he saw her mouth open so she could speak.
“Princess Cadance, are we soul mates?”
“You and I?” the princess replied in a teasing tone. “Surely not. I mean, you’re cute and all, but you’re off the market and so am I.”
“Furious and I.” Almost laughing at Princess Cadance’s words, Crop Duster turned her head to get a sidelong look at the alicorn beside the bed. “Are we soul mates?”
“That is a dangerous question to ask—”
“But ask it I did and you deflected it twice, so I guess the answer is no.” Crop Duster’s ears drooped but her eyes were bright with emotion.
“You are a bold little mare.” Reaching out with one wing, Princess Cadance stroked the back of Crop Duster’s neck, which made the little mare start. “A real prize of a wife to be had by some lucky stallion.” Her gaze locked onto Furious and her fatigued regal expression overflowed with enervated majesty. “Not every great love story has soulmates. Those are rare, few and far between. No, the two of you are the best that I had to work with. Compatible destinies, compatible traits. With the sampling that I had to work with, the two of you were ideal for one another.”
“So it is just random chance based on whatever happens to be there at the time.” Crop Duster closed her eyes and her furrowed brows formed deep, fuzzy grooves of concentration.
“Is that so awful?” Princess Cadance asked and there was something almost fearful in her voice. “Is it so terrible that we settle for what makes us happy rather than hold out for perfect love, which may or may not happen? We could wait forever for just that one pony, but there is no guarantee of finding them. But why do that when you could be ridiculously happy now? Is it so horrible to be happy? To have your needs met?”
Opening her eyes, Crop Duster replied, “No. It’s pretty good, actually. I was lucky. I was lucky to find a best friend that I can also be in love with. And laugh with. I don’t feel like I am missing out.”
Standing beside the bed, Princess Cadance now had a distant look in her eye. “I must bid thee a fond adieu. There are many with wedding night jitters, fears, doubts, and worries. You two are going to be fine, just fine, and I have no real worries about either one of you. In about a year from now, I strongly suspect that the two of you will be parents, and you might need a little help then. I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Honestly, any help you might need can come from your parents, should you choose to ask them.”
She sighed, then added, “Spooning with your best friend at the end of the day is the most theraputic thing I can think of and is one of life’s great pleasures. Enjoy it. Make the most of it. Go to bed early every night and spoon.”
Furious watched her turn to go and he felt a certain fondness for her because she had given him so much. He wanted to say something, something special, something meaningful, but he had no idea how to express himself, so he kept it simple. If it was true that the princess could feel love, then she already knew how he felt about her. “Goodnight, Princess Cadance.”
‘Yes, goodnight, and thank you,” Crop Duster said in parting.
“Goodnight, and good luck. I shall seek you out on the morrow.”
Furious felt the light touch of a hoof being placed against the brown patch on his neck that was described as being ‘heart shaped.’ This was followed by a sleepy sounding giggle, which shook both him and the bed. He was still on his back, but Crop Duster had now snuggled belly-first against him, which left him with heated notions when he thought about the humid moistness that he felt permeating his thigh.
“I have your heart,” she murmured and her words tickled against his neck. Her hoof began to make tiny circles and gentle pressure was applied. “Today was the most wonderful day ever. Thank you for making it special, Furious.” With a full body wiggle, she pressed a little closer and then went still.
He started to say something but all that came out was a powerful yawn, the sort of yawn that made his stomach muscles go tight and his hind legs went stiff. Crop Duster was sort of smooshing his wing against his side, but he didn’t mind. It might be a little stiff come morning—a number of things might be stiff come morning—but he could work the kinks out.
The little mare sighed, an unsettled sound, and she began to wiggle in the bed again. “This doesn’t feel right, Furious, laying here like this with you, and I need to do something to fix it.”
“What’s wrong, my little—oh!” Furious felt her grab him by his cheeks, his head was turned, and then her snoot banged into his. The first attempt failed, but she persisted, and after a few more snoot bumps, he felt her fuzzy lips press up against his in a slobbery, enthusiastic kiss. It was a clumsy kiss, her lips smashing and smooshing up against his in an almost painful way, but it was a magical kiss nonetheless.
Electric tingles coursed through his body and static arced through his feathers. Blue sparks flashed with brilliant bursts of light as electricity crackled between the two pegasus ponies, and both were lucky that no volatile gases were ignited during this exchange of affection, because it would surely blow them to Tartarus.
Such was the love of two pegasus ponies, an experience in electric sexuality.
Furious could feel her sliding against him, creating delightful, soul-satisfying friction of a type that he had never known before. With a turn of his neck, he pressed his lips against hers for another kiss, and this one went a little better: less snoot smashing and more lip rubbing. For a moment, his lips parted, and then her lips parted, and her hot breath came flooding into his mouth, flowing around what remained of his teeth in a most satisfying way, a way that ignited a fire in his loins.
With a frightened ‘meep,’ she pulled away while teeny, tiny lightning bolts had a playful game of tag in her riotous mass of curls. After a few panicked pants, she lapsed into coquettish giggling while her hind legs made little squirmy kicks beneath the blankets. Crop Duster was almost panting now and Furious was so entranced by the kiss that he somehow failed to notice the blanket bunker-buster that his mare had dropped in the bed.
“What comes next?” Furious had to struggle to make the words happen because he was almost breathless. He had an inkling of what he wanted next, even though he was afraid to rush things, and his lightning rod was already stirring, ready to take a shock.
“Oh, I was thinking that we go home,” Crop Duster replied. “We’ll fly home, of course, and get to know each other during the journey, and we’ll sleep on clouds and do what pegasus ponies do. We’ll frolic under Princess Celestia’s sun and maybe we’ll have a little romance beneath Princess Luna’s moon. We can find watering holes to swim in and we can be happy.”
“That sounds perfect.” Even though Furious had something else in mind for what came next, everything she said did sound just about perfect. Relaxing, he sighed and thought about the fact that he had a whole lifetime ahead of… this.
“I am going to take you home and you’re going to meet my parents, and everything is going to be perfect, and we are going to make our own little flock of adorable, fuzzy, feathery little pegasus ponies.” Crop Duster snuck in another kiss and this one was much, much better, a quick peck on the lips that was made all the more interesting by her giggles. When she pulled away she whispered, “Goodnight, Mister Mustache.”
Grinning, Furious replied, “Goodnight, Missus Mustache, sleep well.”