//------------------------------// // Part Three // Story: Some Hugs Last Longer than Others // by HoofBitingActionOverload //------------------------------// Fireworks blaze-burst overhead, rainbow-colored and pink-colored, pony shaped, lightning bolt shaped, pegasus shaped, heart shaped. While ponies were distracted, Rarity and Applejack’s entire tablecloth-covered cafe table jumped liked it'd gotten sacked by speeding, friend-glued, ice-cream stuffed pegasus pony. Rarity took a bite of pastry and said, “I do believe we have visitors.” Applejack sighed and lifted up the table cloth. Underneath, Rainbow Dash breathed heavily, goopy glops of melted ice cream dribbling from her coat and mane. “I’m not here! You don’t see me.” In a bored voice, Applejack informed Rarity, “Rainbow Dash isn’t here.” “Of course not.” Rarity washed her pastry down with a sip of tea. “Is Pinkie Pie not with her as well?” “I am!” Pinkie said from halfway underneath Dash, lolling out her tongue to catch the ice cream dripping off Dash. “Or I’m not? Or I am not not here with Rainbow Dash? But then where are we? Jee, this is confusing.” “It’s unclear,” Applejack told Rarity. “Pinkie Pie’s definitely not here either!” Rainbow Dash said, making a face at Pinkie. “As long as they’re both not here,” Rarity said, “perhaps they’d like an order of tarts? The pastries here are delectable.” Applejack looked to Dash. “Well?” “I don’t want any stupid tarts,” Dash said. “And stop looking down here. Someone will notice. Did anybody notice?” “I like tarts!” Pinkie said. “You don’t,” Dash said. “You just ate a whole bucket of ice cream. You’re practically too heavy for me to carry.” Rarity was already waving over the waiter. “Oh, sir, another order of tarts, if you'd be so kind." “With sprinkles,” Pinkie said, jostling the table with an attempted bounce. The waiter glanced between Rarity and the table, from which could be heard a series loud frustrated shushes. “Will you require more chairs as well, ma’am?” “That doesn’t seem to be necessary, thank you." “One of order of tarts then.” The waiter walked away, face impassive. Pinkie whined. “Aw, I think he forgot my sprinkles.” “Why do you look like you just got into a fight with an ice cream truck?” Applejack asked, still lifting the table cloth. Rainbow Dash pulled it back down. “It doesn’t matter. What are you guys even doing here? The Bluestone Cafe doesn’t seem like your sort of hangout, AJ. And no one noticed us come in here, right?” Applejack sighed. “I’m bein’ treated to a relaxin’ fancy shmancy afternoon off by Rarity.” “Don’t say it like that. You'd enjoy a bit of pampering if you’d only let yourself,” Rarity said, and lifted up her side of the tablecloth. “And no, I believe most ponies were too busy looking up at the fireworks to look down at your sticky wet-feathered self stumbling across the street, giggling pink pony tied like a scarf around your neck. The fireworks were lovely, though, if perhaps mistimed. And judging by your appearance—” Rarity raised an eyebrow at the tangled lump of pony, feathers, manes, and ice cream beneath her table— “the evening’s... er, festivities are either going extremely well or extremely poorly.” “Poorly,” Dash answered for her, pulling the tablecloth down again. “And I said to keep this down!” “Ah, the usual problem, I assume,” Rarity said. “I did tell you, Pinkie, that you can’t set love to a timetable. Some ponies are simply too stubborn for their own good. Stop poking that!” Applejack, ignoring Rarity’s scolding, prodded at a sticky lump of bread on her plate. “What else are you supposed to do with it?” Rarity groaned. “You eat it. It’s tarte tatin, a delicacy. It’s even made with apples. You’d love it if you tried it. I swear sometimes, I feel like a foal sitter. And as for you, Rainbow Dash,” Rarity lifted the table cloth back up, giving Dash a stern look, “there’s something I’ve been trying to tell you for an age, and now that you’re a captive audience perhaps you’ll have no chance but to listen this time.” “Fine, whatever,” Dash said. “Just make it quick. I’m kind of in the middle of a huge problem here that I need your guys’ help with.” “That we certainly both agree on.” Rarity laughed. “Though I suspect you’re referring to a different problem altogether than the one I’m trying to help you with.” “What does that even mean?” Rainbow Dash asked. “Embarrassment,” Rarity said, all hint of amusement gone, her tone earnest. “There are two kinds of embarrassment. There’s the healthy, even useful, kind of embarrassment. It’s the kind that keeps you from making the same mistake twice. It’s the kind that keeps you from acting the boor towards your friends. It’s healthy. It’s normal. We all make a mess of things sometimes. Then we feel terribly embarrassed, and we dislike that feeling so much that we don’t make that same mess again. Or at least try not to.” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Are you seriously lecturing me while I’m trapped under a restaurant table and glued to my best friend? Like, could this wait?” “But there’s another kind of embarrassment,” Rarity continued. “It’s useless and bitter. We feel embarrassed for simple mistakes and understandings, near meaningless little slip ups. Sometimes even less than that. We feel embarrassed for the things we like, the things that make us happy. We feel ashamed of the ponies we care about, of the ponies we love. We become ashamed of ourselves and our feelings. It’s toxic. It’s ugly. It makes us feel ugly. It doesn’t lead to learning or growth, but only self loathing. And you, Rainbow Dash, are at times so full of that second kind that it’s dripping out of your ears.” “That’s actually ice cream...” Dash muttered. “What are you afraid of, Rainbow?” Rarity asked. “Who are you afraid of? Random passerby on the street? How often do you really think about all the embarrassing things that other ponies have done, particularly strangers? I’d wager that if you do at all, it’s only in passing. You forget other ponies’ embarrassments after a day, a week at most. But for some reason, you can never forgive your own.” “Most ponies aren’t thinking about you half as often as you suspect,” Applejack said, sniffing the pastry on her plate and wrinkling her nose. “They’re too busy worryin’ about themselves to worry about you.” Rainbow Dash did her best to look anywhere other than at Rarity and Applejack. “It’s not strangers that I’m worried about..” “Then who?” Rarity asked. “Your friends? If your friends never forgive you for those little healthy embarrassments, they aren’t your friends. And if your friends make you feel ashamed for your feelings, for liking the things you like, for liking the ponies you like, they aren’t your friends. But we are your friends, and we forgive you for the little embarrassments, just as I hope you forgive my own many mistakes. And we would never be ashamed of your feelings, just as you never should.” “Try us,” Applejack said, and dumped the tarte tatin on the ground while Rarity was busy with Rainbow, which Pinkie promptly grabbed and ate. “Ugh,” Dash groaned. “Will guys stop showing me what an idiot I am for two seconds and help me get out of this stupid mess?” “Of course,” Rarity said. “What do you need from us?” “I just need a distraction. Something that’ll keep ponies attention long enough that I can get up onto one of those roofs without getting caught. Once we’re up there, I think I can get over to Twilight’s place on my own.” “You could just walk out of here,” Applejack said. “Just walk on out from underneath the table and to wherever you want to go. No pony would care, and anypony who did isn’t a pony worth botherin’ with.” “I know, okay, I get it,” Dash said. “I just—I can have all kinds of exciting self growth and revelations about my deepest darkest feelings later. Right now I just want to make it to Twilight’s without getting bothered, okay? Please?” “Very well.” Rarity strode away from the table, towards the market. “Come, Applejack, the stage awaits!” Applejack followed her at a distance. "I got a bad feelin' about this..." Rarity walked, halted, rounded on Applejack, tears in her eyes. She thrust a hoof in Applejack’s face, crying, “You boor. You menace. The way you twist the strings of my heart, wrap me around your little hoof. Was it all just a game to you, a frivolous, meaningless little romp with the town’s resident romantic?” Applejack scratched her head. “You got some funny ideas about what makes for a relaxin’ afternoon, you know that?” “And you, cow polk, have some funny ideas about how to treat a lady!” Rarity said, fuming. A curious crowd began to gather. “Tell me now, once and for all. Did you mean anything you said, or were they all sweet nothings? Was it unbridled passion that drove you to write that poetry, or mocking cowardice?” The crowd stared at Applejack. Applejack stared at Rarity. Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie made an unseen escape onto a nearby roof. “Be honest, for once in your life. Be straight, you too charming rogue.” Rarity took a deep breath. “Will you marry me?” “Um.” Applejack yawned. “No thank you.” Rarity gasped, reared, swooned. Ponies in the crowd leapt to catch her. “I am broken!” Rarity screamed, pushing them away. “My heart rended, my love a lie! How will I live? How will I continue on in this unbearable—” Her waiter tapped her on the shoulder. “Your order of tarts is ready, ma’am.” “Oh, lovely!” Rarity smiled, her demeanor immediately changed. “Nothing soothes a wounded heart better than sweets. Shall we, Applejack?” She trotted back to the table. The crowd dispersed, and Applejack sat back down with her. “I think I’m gonna stop spending time with you.”