//------------------------------// // And Christmas comes once more // Story: Over Land and Sea // by Wessexbrony //------------------------------// “The dark night wakes, the glory breaks, and Christmas comes once more” - O Little Town of Bethlehem, verse 4 (not traditionally sung) Saturday 23rd December As Blue is the Colour played on the tannoy and the supporters celebrated a vital win, I whispered something in Rainbow Dash’s ear. The three of us then made our way out of the stadium, but I stopped outside the megastore. “Wait there a minute,” I said, pulling out my mobile phone. “I just need to make a quick call.” I returned a couple of minutes later. “Let’s stop somewhere on the way back,” I said, as we began to head towards the apartment while Rainbow Dash made a beeline for the portal. “I don’t know about you, but I could really do with a hot chocolate after that. Preferably one with plenty of cream and marshmallows.” Dinky nodded, the feeling returning to her legs as the relief she'd felt since the final whistle continued to wash over her. “Get IN THERE. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, you jumped-up dictator.” Lyra muttered to herself as she noticed the result, before she found herself being tapped on the back. She turned around, and Rainbow Dash promptly whispered something in her ear. She nodded. Suddenly the damp patch on her chest, where Derpy had cried into it the previous afternoon, and which she had still felt even after a long shower, wasn't anywhere near as noticeable. “I knew you'd like it,” I said, as I used my teaspoon to fish around for the last few marshmallows at the bottom of the mug. “Anyway, we'd best head back. The half time scores are going to be coming in and we need to know how the sides around us are doing.” The two of us set off as Dinky licked specks of cream off her face. “... and Bolton now trail by two goals to nil. Goal to tell you about in the Championship...” The doorbell rang. “I'll get it,” I said, getting up. Dinky raised an eyebrow - I always got the door anyway. “I just hope it's not one of those cold callers…” I audibly muttered, as I went to answer the door. This further piqued Dinky's curiosity - the building had a rigidly enforced “No Cold Callers” policy. She got down from the sofa and turned to face the front door - and found herself facing a grey pegasus with a blonde mane. Both ponies stood facing each other for a moment. Six hours beforehand, they'd been practically convinced that they were never going to see each other again. And then… “Mommy!” “Muffin! Oh, my Muffin, I've-I've missed you so much-!” Allowing them some privacy, I left them to their joyful - and tearful - reunion and went back to the sofa, just in time to hear about an equaliser in the Tottenham game. Barely half an hour later, the three of us were sat at the kitchen table. The two ponies (whose faces were damp with theirs and each other's tears) had eventually liberated each other from their tight hug and a pot of tea has being consumed whilst I listened intently to the radio. “Good afternoon. It’s five o’clock, I’m Mark Pougatch, and this...is Sports Report.” “Late drama at Stamford Bridge as a stoppage-time goal from Drogba secures the points for ten-man Chelsea…” Jonathan Pearce’s voice was then heard. “What a run this is down the right from Joe Cole, sends a cross into the area, Drogba’s there! Didier Drogba has won it for Chelsea!” “Bolton and Tottenham both slip up and lose ground on the top four, Manchester United march on, Everton climb up to seventh. In the Championship, Birmingham go six points clear at the top…” “But...how?” Dinky finally asked, as Mark Pougatch continued to summarise the football news. “How were you able to get here?” “Rainbow Dash lent me her season ticket for the game on Boxing Day,” Derpy replied. “The FPA can’t stop ponies from attending football matches,” I added. “Unfortunately, for a club like Chelsea, tickets are like gold dust, and this was a spur-of-the-moment thing due to the fact we’re at home.” “...but first, the classified results, read by James Alexander Gordon.” “Barclays Premiership…” Dinky took a moment to digest this. As much as she would have loved it if her mother had been able to stay in London on a permanent basis, this was certainly a lot better than what she’d considered inevitable all week. “-ton Athletic one, Arsenal two. Chelsea one, Liverpool nil. Everton two, Reading nil…” “How did-” Dinky asked, but her question was answered for her by the radio. “Fulham two, Bolton Wanderers nil. Manchester United three, Watford nil. Newcastle United nil, Blackburn Rovers nil. Portsmouth two, West Ham United nil. Tottenham Hotspur one, Manchester City one...” I walked past Dinky’s bedroom that night after Match of the Day, smiling as I looked in to see the two of them cuddled up and evidently sleeping a lot better than they had done all week. Either the Foal Protection Agency didn’t have a braincell between them, I thought, as I returned to my room, or their standards were so impossibly high that they’d have sacked Alex Ferguson had they been in charge of Man Utd. Still, the least that the two ponies deserved was a happy Christmas. Tuesday 26th December Chelsea (4th) vs Reading (9th) “I don’t see why Fontana is still in the starting lineup,” I said, as the teams came out for the second half. “We should play Drogba as a lone striker and stick that £16,000,000 lamp-post in the reserves until someone - Bayern, Barnsley, I don’t care who - comes in for him.” “Lamp-post?” Derpy asked quizzically. “Yes,” I replied. “Although on second thoughts, at least a lamp-post is actually useful.” The score stood at 1-1 as the second half started. Fontana had been listless throughout the first half, and ten minutes from the break, Leroy Lita had beaten the offside trap to head the ball past Cech and give Reading the lead. Chelsea had come back, however, and six minutes later Lampard had run onto a pass from Essien before sending the ball past Hahnemann. Six minutes into the second half, however, Mourinho had come to the same conclusion as the home support, and once again Fontana was taken off, with Salomon Kalou replacing him. Fontana went off to a chorus of boos and chants of “you’re not fit to wear the shirt”. Two minutes afterwards, Drogba played Kalou in. Kalou raced into the area and got a shot off, which went just wide of the goal. “See? Much better.” I said, as the team suddenly seemed to pick up. In the 63rd minute, John Obi Mikel, on as a substitute for the booked Essien, took off down the left flank before crossing into the area. This time Kalou did not miss, firing the ball under Hahnemann to give Chelsea the lead. Chelsea had begun to impose themselves on Reading and five minutes later, it was Wright-Phillips who looked to turn provider, his cross being volleyed just wide by Kalou. Reading still had some fight in them, however, and with just under 20 minutes to go, a defensive mix-up saw Lita let in, his shot being saved by Cech. With just over ten minutes left, Drogba ran into the area and played a lofted ball to Wright-Phillips, whose shot was saved by Hahnemann. The Reading keeper, however, couldn’t hold it, and Drogba pounced on the rebound to put the result beyond doubt before sliding on his knees to the corner flag. That was his last contribution, as he was then replaced by Boulahrouz to secure the defence. There was still time for Kalou to fire a shot just wide, but Chelsea took another three vital points. Chelsea 3-1 Reading (Lampard 41, Kalou 63, Drogba 79; Lita 35) Although Bolton had beaten Charlton 2-0, Chelsea still held a 5-point lead over them. Liverpool, however, had also won, 2-0 at West Ham, keeping Chelsea in 4th. Premier League Table 1 Man Utd 47pts 2 Arsenal 43pts 3 Liverpool 39pts 4 Chelsea 39pts 5 Bolton 34pts 6 Tottenham 33pts … 16 Middlesbrough 21pts 17 Sheffield Utd 20pts 18 West Ham 18pts 19 Charlton 13pts 20 Watford 11pts As the pundits on Match of the Day that night discussed Fontana’s interest in playing for a club abroad, the rumour that there were eyes all over Europe on Fontana, and that John Terry, who had missed the game through suspension, was fed up of the whole saga, my mind turned to the following day. Derpy was being picked up at 2 o’clock in the afternoon and taken directly back rather than via the embassy so as to avoid Belladonna finding out; all I knew about the pony escorting her was that it was “somepony I could trust”.