//------------------------------// // Day 11 // Story: No Heroes: Life of Pie // by PaulAsaran //------------------------------// The door seemed more like the gates of a fortress to Fine’s mind. He clutched the scroll to his chest, well aware of the trembling in his entire body. He’d been standing in that same spot for nearly an hour, earning more than a few curious glances from the inn’s other guests as they left their respective rooms. The morning sun’s rays invaded the hallway, keeping time for his lonely vigil. She was in there. He knew she was because he cast his eavesdropping spell to make sure. And she was awake, of that he remained confident. All he had to do was knock, but a vague terror kept his free hoof planted to the floor. Was this how it had felt when he’d first tried to confess to Fluttershy? No. It had been embarrassing, perhaps a little frightening, but that time hadn’t gripped him in this electrifying fear. He wanted to scream, but didn’t dare lest Pinkie hear him. The greatest and worst thing in the world would be to have the attention of her glittering blue eyes. “You can do this, Verity,” he said under his breath. “It’s Pinkie Pie. She’s only scary if you break a Pinkie Promise. Or get possessed by a dragon spirit.” The thought brought a shivering smile to his lips, but it faded when he saw how the scroll shook in his hooves. Did he really want to do this? It would be so much easier to walk out. Out of the Rock Bottom Inn. Out of Rockstead. Out of her life, never to have to risk this incredible gambit. Fine never gambled. Gamblers lost. But sometimes the reward is worth the risk. It was unnerving how closely that voice in his mind resembled Octavia’s. His gaze shifted to the stairs, open and inviting. An escape from failure. Freedom from this fear. It would only cost him his soul. He could part with that, surely. Closing his eyes, he tried to clear his mind. It was impossible. Pale blue eyes gazed into him, pleading, desperate, wanting to know why. This ghostly image alone was too painful to accept. If he couldn’t handle that, however would he deal with the real thing? And he would have to in time. There wasn’t a creature alive that could hide from Pinkie. She’d find him. Somehow, that made him feel better. She would find him, because she cared that much. He had to do this. He reached out with his hoof for the hundredth time. The fact that it actually connected with the wood made him flinch, for that had never happened before. His ears folded back and his shoulders hunched in preparation. His knock went unanswered. That wasn’t a relief. He pondered this, wondered if he shouldn’t try again. Instead, he licked his lips and opened his mouth. “P-Pinkie?” The name came out hoarse, so quiet even his own ears had to strain to catch it. He coughed into his hoof and swallowed to moisten his throat. “Pinkie?” Better. Marginally. Still, nothing. Fine perked an ear and turned his head. Not a sound from the room. Once again, he strongly considered walking away. After what happened last night, perhaps she didn’t want to see him. He might as well lodge a lance of ice through his chest as imagine such a thing. The pain sent a shiver from his hooves to his ears, but when it passed he felt a sudden surge of determination. He glanced at the scroll, still trembling, and sucked down a long, deep breath. “I’m coming in. Alright?” Still no answer. She might not have even heard him. Even so, he reached for the handle. He was mildly surprised that the door was unlocked. He stepped through to find the shades drawn and the room enshrouded in darkness. But only a natural darkness, which his eyes pierced with practiced ease. Closing the door behind him, he quickly located the lump beneath the covers. Pinkie’s body was still, but not so still that he couldn’t detect the soft rise and fall of her shoulders and side. She was pretending to be asleep. He sat down beside her bed, staring at her hiding spot. The top of her mane, dark and straight, was just visible from that angle. She was facing away, he could tell. “I have something for you,” he whispered. It didn’t feel right being any louder right now. She didn’t move, or acknowledge him in any way. “I, uh, told you before. I’m not good at this.” He fumbled with the scroll, not willing to use his magic for the task. He’d written this by hoof. He’d handle it by hoof. Maybe he was being silly, but it felt… necessary. “You’re way better than I’ll ever be. B-but… well…” The scroll unrolled. He looked to her once more. She hadn’t shifted at all. He reviewed the words yet again. Should he have worked on it some more? He was tired from an entire night of that, surely he couldn’t find anything in his current state. He should feel absolutely worn out, but instead there was a buzzing energy that kept the weariness as a peripheral, vague concept. He was going to do this. He realized now how badly he wanted to. Now that he was here, by her side, the opportunity present, his heart began to race. It was as if the words themselves were reaching down, deep down, and grasping something within him. Not his heart, something physical and finite. Deeper. The words clutched their prize and pulled, and so he opened his mouth and began. I didn't know what day it was When you walked into the room I said hello unnoticed You said goodbye too soon Fine’s eyes widened as a clear, distinct melody flowed from his lips. In his peripheral vision, he saw Pinkie stir, but the words didn’t stop. The words couldn’t stop. Breezing through the clientele Spinning yarns that were so lyrical I really must confess right here The attraction was purely physical She raised her head, turned to gape over her shoulder. Her wide eyes met his. The words. The words had to come out. I took all those habits of yours That in the beginning were hard to accept Your fashion sense, Trixie prints I put down to experience He smiled. He couldn’t help it. He was singing. In not the most beautiful voice ever, but it was his, and it was real. The pink-maned lady with the kindly eyes She might have held my point of view Her sweet little lines were well received But my heart cried out for you His voice gained strength with the arrival of the chorus. Pinkie was sitting up now, rubbing her eyes and starting to smile. You're in my heart, you're in my soul You'll be my breath should I grow old You are my lover, you're my best friend You're in my soul He didn’t need the scroll, not when he had her eyes. Her lovely, wonderful eyes. My love for you is immeasurable My respect for you immense You're ageless, timeless, lace and fineness You're beauty and elegance You're a rhapsody, a comedy You're a symphony and a play You're every love song ever written But honey what do you see in me You're in my heart, you're in my soul You'll be my breath should I grow old You are my lover, you're my best friend You're in my soul Pinkie’s face was five shades brighter than normal. Tears swelled in her eyes. Fine thought his smile would split his face in two. You're an essay in glamor Please pardon the grammar But you're every schoolcolt's dream You're cryptic, lopsided, but baby I've decided You're the best dream I've ever seen And there have been many old fears Many times I've thought to leave But I bite my lip and turn around 'Cause you're the warmest thing I've ever found You're in my heart, you're in my soul You'll be my breath should I grow old You are my lover, you're my best friend You're in my soul The song came to an end as slow and quiet as its beginning. The scroll fell to the floor. Fine was too busy gazing into Pinkie’s bottomless eyes to care about a piece of paper. The words? They were burned into his soul. Breathless, panting, lighter than a cloud, he could do nothing but smile and await her judgement. His eyes started to burn from the sheer rapture of his first song combined with the warm, gentle curve of her lips. Pinkie approached atop the bed, crawling forward with a fluid but eager grace. She said not a word, merely wrapped her forelegs around his withers and planted her lips to his. In the euphoric explosion of his mind, all reality disappeared. Existence was defined by velvety touches, strawberry tastes, and a stanza that sung over and over again in a mighty echo that no Royal Canterlot Voice could ever hope to match. You're in my heart, you're in my soul You'll be my breath should I grow old You are my lover, you're my best friend You're in my soul When the universe finally put itself back together again, Fine discovered she’d dragged him into the bed. This didn’t concern him like it would have less than a day ago. They clung to one another as if their lives depended upon the contact. He wasn’t so sure that was false. Pinkie’s smile beneath those wild, poofy locks battled against her shimmering eyes for his attention. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she whispered, “You sang for me.” “Yeah,” he whispered, brushing a hoof through her mane. “I guess I finally had something worth singing about.” A quiet mewling sound rose from her throat. She pecked him on the lips. “It was a beautiful song.” He could have denied it. He didn’t have her voice, or the voice of any other pony he could mention. But why fight this victory when there were so many more important things to focus on? “Pinkie Pie? I think I love you.” If her eyes were dazzling before, now they were like fireworks. “M-me too.” His ears perked. The words were on his lips. He fought valiantly, but a golden opportunity awaited an entire lifetime would not be denied: “You love you too?” She blinked, uncomprehending. Oh, Luna, stop me. It was no use, it had started, and his lips were quirking into a sideways grin. “Are you dating a clone? Should I be jealous? What’s it like, being in love with yourself?” Pinkie snorted, then burst out laughing. “You know what I mean, you goof!” Her giggles were infectious. He squeezed her and pressed his forehead to hers, delighting in her good humor. “I couldn’t help it, I’ve wanted to poke fun at that line for decades. Sorry.” “Don’t be sorry, be mine.” She pulled him in for another world-shattering kiss. You're in my heart, you're in my soul… A lifetime later, they came up for air. Pinkie’s breaths were coming in long, slow gasps. Fine realized he wasn’t doing any better. Who would have thought kissing could leave a pony so winded? He could almost hear Twilight Sparkle in the back of his mind proposing a hooves-on experiment on the matter. Pinkie’s quiet voice broke through the haze. “Fine? D-do you really think I’m… pretty?” He gazed into her eyes. They were filled with doubt… but also a hint of hope. How fortunate that the truth was easy. “Of course, you’re pretty. In fact, I think I’d like a do-over of that dress introduction.” He pecked the tip of her muzzle. She responded with a squeak and wriggled her nose. Her scrunched up face sent his heart frolicking around in his chest, and he resolved to do that again as often as he could get away with it. “Would you like me to sing that stanza again?” “I think I’d like to hear the whole song again,” she replied with a goofy, disbelieving smile. He obliged her, thrilled to find that it flowed out of his lungs with all the same eloquence and skill as it had the first time. It was made all the easier by her dreamy smile. “When did you write that?” she asked once it was over. “Last night.” She lifted her head, as if doing so might make her incredulous stare more effective. “What? I was inspired.” She leaned closer, and this time there was an inquisitive, studious look to her. What she was looking for wasn’t clear, but he abruptly felt like she was reading his face like an open book. “What?” Even her concerned frown didn’t mar her lovely face. “Did you stay up all night?” He considered his potential answer, rubbing her cheek with his fetlock as he did. The worry in her gaze made his decision for him. “I had to get through. I was afraid if I took too long it would be too late. That I’d lose you for good.” The very idea left a little ice cube in his heart. “So yeah, I stayed up all night working on it.” She considered this quietly, her eyes drifting down. “I don’t know how I feel about that. It’s like all the Pinkies and Rarities and Rainbows and everypony got into a big pileup on the highway between the exits of Worry and Joy and the mediponies are too busy fighting through the warm cotton candy clouds down at Circulation Point to deal with it.” Fine cocked his head. “Aren’t there any Twilight Sparkles or maybe a Celestia or two to break up the wreckage and calm ponies down?” “That’s now how it works.” She shook her head, gravely serious. “They only give advice and the like. And I’d have thought you’d have suggested Luna.” “It’s your mind,” he countered with a shrug. “You’re a Celestia pony.” Then an idea struck him and he grinned. “The mediponies are all Fluttershy, aren’t they?” “Of course!” She poked him in the shoulder playfully. “Who are they in your head?” He hummed and tapped his chin, considering his options. “Hard choice. It’d be either Nye or Upper Crust. Probably Nye, come to think of it.” “Nye?” Pinkie raised an skeptical eyebrow. “Seriously? I’d have thought Octavia. What stallion wouldn’t want to see her in a nurse’s outfit?” When she realized Fine was staring at her, she blushed. “What?” “Nothing,” he replied with another dopey smile. “Just imagining you in a nurse’s outfit now.” Fine almost swore he felt the heat radiating from her face. “Th-that’s… I m-mean…” In a decent imitation of Fluttershy, Pinkie hid her face behind her curly mane such that only an eye was showing, wide but locked onto him. When she finally managed to speak, her voice was practically a squeak. “Do you really think I could pull that off?” Chuckling, he tunneled his nose through her mane until his muzzle bumped hers. “I know—” Hair got in his mouth. Strange, it tasted like bubblegum. Being stringy didn’t make it all that palatable, so he promptly pulled back and tugged the strands off his tongue. Flushing at her giggles, he finally said, “Yes, but I wanna see you in the dress first.” “Was it tasty?” She asked with a smirk, taking the time to pull her mane back and peck him on the lips. Her hoof ran little circles on his chest, her smile becoming soft. “I guess this means we’re a couple now. Right?” “If not? I’ll write another song,” he declared firmly. “And another. And another and another and another. I’ll stand outside your window and sing them all day and night until I find the right words to make it so.” The look in her eyes forced him to check and make sure he was still on the bed in case the floating feeling wasn’t just in his mind. She tucked her head under his chin and sighed, a sound of perfect contentment. “You don’t have to do that for me, silly. I was yours from the moment you saved me in the Crystal Caverns.” Fine recalled that moment with horrible clarity. Chasing one another among the crystals, trading blows, her taunting whispers in the dark. His ears folded back against the terrible shriek she made when his magical spear impaled her hip and pinned her to the floor. He could almost smell the blood. Blood on his hooves. Blood on his claws. Blood as she begged. “What’s wrong?” He was clinging to her, close to hyperventilation. He closed his mouth and eyes, breathed through his nose, and forced the images way. They didn’t go easily. He would lie, tell her something else. This wasn’t a topic that needed discussion, not now. Formulating something believable, he opened his eyes once more. His throat caught at her stare, a long, pleading look that spoke of an anxious expectation. Don’t lie to me. “I don’t want to hurt you again.” His voice cracked as he said it, but he couldn’t stop it now that it had begun. “I’m afraid. So terribly afraid. I… Me. I’m dangerous. I’ve put you in the hospital twice. Nearly killed you. If that happens again, I don’t think I can live with myself. How do we know it won’t happen again? How can you stand to be in the same room with me after I-I butchered you, tortured you? I don’t deserve you, I always knew that. But you keep coming back, keep risking it. Why, Pinkie? I’m not good. I’m not safe. I’m not anything you need to be around. I can’t stand the thought of losing you, and… and…” The words died to a sob. He buried his head in her shoulder and held her close even as a voice in the back of his mind insisted he get as far away as possible. Pinkie rubbed his withers with one hoof and patted his head with the other. Both felt good. Certainly better than Fine anticipated. He felt so small and stupid. Pinkie would say so, and she’d be right. How could she have the patience to put up with it? Yet there she remained, stroking him and humming his own song back into his ear. There was nothing he could do but hold on tight and wish he wasn’t so pathetic. When was the last time he broke down like this? He began to think on what to say. How to apologize. He’d discarded a half-dozen options when Pinkie beat him to it, her words gentle. “I want you to know something.” Sniffling, he pulled back and rubbed his eyes clear of tears. The little smile she offered threatened to melt his heart all over again, but it also sent a chill of fear down his spine in regards to her lack of survival instincts. Nopony should smile that way at somepony who’d tortured them to within an inch of their life. Not waiting for him to formulate a response, Pinkie took his hoof in hers and pressed it firmly to her chest. So very slowly, she lowered it. Her eyes never left his, even as her cheeks burned. His fared little better, and he began to question just what she was doing. Then his hoof touched something off, a break in the velvety smoothness of her body. An imperfection, running like a range of mountains on a topographical map. Scars. Pinkie let out a little gasp as he abruptly jerked his hoof away. It wasn’t a gasp of pain. He wasn’t sure what it was. “W-why?” It was the only thing he could think to ask. “Don’t stop.” Her voice was like velvet rubbing satin. She caught his hoof once more and pressed it to her belly. Her lips opened to take in heavy inhales as his touch roamed the little bumps and ridges. “Feel them. Feel them all.” Gradually, moving along with her guidance, his hoof traced the marks on her body that her fur so effectively hid. Here, on her side, a trio of cuts from when he’d had claws. There, on her leg, where he’d put a knife through it. Pulling him close and turning slightly, she guided him to the scar in the small of her back where a similar wound could barely be felt. Her breath was hot on his neck, coming out as a husky pant. Fine wasn’t sure how to feel. His mind told him to be afraid. His body told him something else. His head swam with confusing, contradictory data that left him feeling lightheaded. “Pinkie? I d-don’t…” He tensed as her lips traced a line along his neck, up to his throat, teasing the corners of his lips. Suddenly all his fears and anxieties from two seconds ago didn’t seem to matter much anymore. He wasn’t sure what she was doing, but the desire to get more of it by whatever means possible was consuming his mind more and more with every peppered kiss. “Feel them,” she breathed in his ear. Her hoof guided his across her body, and every little fault on it. “They’re yours. They’re your mark on me. They hurt once, but now? I love them. Every single one. Because without them we might never have come here.” His hoof ran over the fleshy, shallow scar on her inner thigh. There was no pain in her panting whimper. “Touch them, Verity. Touch them and love them like I do. Touch them and never feel guilty about them ever again.” He touched them. Freely, without guidance. She moaned and stole his lips, and the world ceased to be. They could have stayed in bed all day, were it not for their bodies reminding them of such limitations as hunger and thirst. Pinkie was the first to crawl out from under the sheets, her movements languid yet graceful. Like a cat. Fine watched her stretching her legs and shaking out her mane, which was somehow more frazzled than usual. He had to wonder if he looked any better. The eager little colt he’d discovered hiding in some dark, forgotten corner of his mind watched her arch her back and strongly suggested he pull her back into the bed. Luckily (?), his stomach offered firm arguments against such a course of action. He waited until she was in the shower to emerge from beneath the covers as well. For all the… ‘activity’ of the last few hours, he felt refreshed and energetic, and so decided to blow off some energy by performing a practice routine. The motions were all but ingrained into his skull, though he had to improvise a little given the enclosed space and the bed in his way. Even so, it felt good to simply move, and he went at it with an eagerness he’d not felt in years. By the time Pinkie emerged from the bathroom, her mane done up in a towel and her coat glistening with faint moisture, Fine had worked up a sweat. Again. How many times did that make for this morning? She watched him finish his routine, her manner calm and her smile sunny. “I kinda like watching you do that,” she admitted with a coy smile. Flicking his sweaty mane from his face, he grinned. “You’re welcome to come by and watch any time, Little Miss.” She tittered and blushed but didn’t lose her smug manner. “Maybe I will, Peepee. But right now, I need you to get in that shower and clean up so we can get some lunch. My stomach is not happy with me.” The opening was too easy for Fine to ignore. “What’s the rule about going at the same time?” Pinkie paused, her smile frozen as her eyes roamed slowly up and down his body. Then she shivered, turned away, and spoke with aplomb. “Tempt me not! My insides will never forgive me if I delay any longer because of you.” A blushing peek over her shoulder. “M-maybe tonight?” He walked backwards for the bathroom, waving his hoof in a flourish and bowing his head as he spoke with exaggerated pomp. “I shall await the lady’s blessing with great anticipation.” Grinning at her giggles, he got to cleaning the morning activity away. In a way, he couldn’t believe just what the two of them had been up to the last few hours. If somepony had told him a day ago that he could waste so much time on… bodily functions, he’d have laughed in their faces. Or been offended. Now he was half-hoping Pinkie would succumb to her own desire and slip in the shower for another round. Then again, more like two-thirds-hoping. Was this normal behavior for couples? Were Mr. and Mrs. Cake doing stuff like this at any given opportunity? Rainbow and Nye? That latter suggestion confirmed that, no, couples didn’t behave like this. If they did, he was sure he would have noticed Rainbow and Nye slipping off to do things throughout their adventure in the Everfree. Perhaps it was a ‘new couple’ thing. There could be no denying that Pinkie and he had a lot of pent up energy from months of beating around the bush. Why in Equestria had that metaphorical shrub ever been so intimidating? Pinkie called from the room. “Hey, Fine. What did you want to do today after… uh…” She paused, perhaps to check the actual time. “Brunch?” He grinned around the water cascading down his face. “Is ‘more bed time’ an option?” “Yes,” she replied firmly. Then, with a bit more reluctance, “Buuut we probably shouldn’t. I mean, what’s Petri thinking about us right now? Not to mention everypony else that’s used to seeing us out and about. Besides, I wanna show my stud off.” A lewd image involving town square popped into mind and brought a new heat to Fine’s cheeks. “I had no idea you were into voyeurism, Sugarflanks.” The sputtering was just audible over the shower. “I didn’t mean it like that, Peepee!” “Good, ‘cause that’s a big jump from what I’m comfortable with right now.” He’d meant it as a joke, but there was no denying the truth behind the words. “If you want to go around town boasting that we’re together, well… I guess I’ve got nothing against that.” “Don’t worry,” she called, “I only wanna tell our best friends. Y’know, Sunflower, Scilly, Cotton and PS. I’d mention Petri, but…” Fine agreed, the stallion probably knew all about what was going on. Especially after his insinuations last night and the fact both Pinkie and Fine were hours later for breakfast than was normal. Shutting off the water, Fine began toweling himself off. “I’m sure he’ll understand.” “Oh, and the R.E.G.A.L. guys are leaving town today,” Pinkie added conversationally. “It’s too late for a ‘Good Job, Everypony!’ party, but I’d like to thank some of them. I’m sure Rarity would like that.” “She probably would.” Pinkie said nothing to his response, so he focused on drying off. When he stepped out of the bathroom, it was to find Pinkie sitting in the corner where she’d thrown the blue dress aside sometime last night. She held it in her hooves, staring at the fabric with a forlorn expression. “You okay?” “I’m fine,” she replied. “I was just… thinking.” “About what?” He settled at her side and put a leg around her withers. “Did you ruin the dress?” “No, it’s okay.” She tittered, though it was an unusually quiet sound for her. “I’m not even worried about the dress. But I am worried about you.” He cocked his head. “Me?” “You.” She leaned into him, breathing out a long sigh as she did. “You remember yesterday? When I was telling you about how I was homeless?” Where was she going with this? “Yeah.” She shifted, and if anything seemed to come a little closer. “I remember. You… got this look. I didn’t like it.” A look. That could mean anything. But whatever it was, it was clearly important to her. “Okay. What kind of look?” “I found my family.” Her response only served to confuse him more. “I found it. The Cakes. Sometimes I think I don’t deserve them, especially days like yesterday. Still, they’re my family. I love them so much.” Fine wished he knew how to answer that. He fumbled with words in his head, trying to find the right ones. “Of course.” It was a throwaway, a bid for more time. She tilted her head to look up at him with those big blue eyes. He wondered if he could find a way to weaponize them. They certainly had his heart pattering. “You never found that. Right?” Hesitation stalled him even as his earlier considerations died. “I… I had…” He almost said ‘my father’, but he knew that didn’t count. He’d cared about his father, true, but they hadn’t been family. Not in the way Pinkie meant. Not since his mother died. And his father was gone now, too. He thought of who else might qualify. Fleur came to mind. She was like a sister to him, if he was honest, but were they really close enough to be called ‘family’? No, probably not. “I’ll be your family,” Pinkie whispered, tucking her muzzle under his neck. Her curly mane tickled his chin. “I want you to have that, too. You don’t have to be a lone wolf anymore.” “You sure you wanna do that,” he replied with a smirk. “I might eat you. Big bad wolf and all that.” She pulled back to look at him, and there was a firmness in her gaze he wasn’t accustomed to seeing. She said nothing, only let her displeasure be known in her eyes. Fine was taken aback. Gradually, his ears lowered. He turned his gaze away. “I’m sorry.” “Family is important.” Her voice held as much strength as her eyes. “I want you to be part of mine. Please don’t make light of that.” Pinkie’s tone stung more than her words. Fine winced and rubbed his foreleg. “I… I didn’t mean to sound insensitive. I’m just not used to the idea. The last time I had anything resembling what you’re suggesting, I wasn’t afraid of water. I’d like to be part of your family, Pinkie, please don’t think otherwise.” With a sigh, Pinkie was pressed to his side again. “It’s okay. I forgive you. I’ll show you what family really means. Then you’ll know why it’s so important.” “I…” Fine pondered the suggestion. “Okay.” The glance she sent him clarified that ‘okay’ was not enough. “I get what you’re saying, Little Miss. I just think I’ll have to experience it before I really… understand. For what it’s worth, right now, with my extremely limited capacity of knowledge regarding the subject?” He smiled and nuzzled her cheek. “I’d be glad to be part of your family.” “I’ll help you understand,” she whispered, her smile turning warm. “You deserve it. Everypony does. Nopony should be without family.” Their day was active, to say the least. Pinkie was determined to share the news of her official ‘special somepony’ status to her friends. She had a lot of friends. First, they went to visit Sunflower. “I told you she was crazy about you,” the magician said, grinning and nudging Fine’s side with an elbow. “You could have been in this position ages ago if you’d just studded up and kissed her, I bet.” Pinkie thought Fine’s blushing grin adorable. “That’s okay, because we’re together now and making up for all the lost time with lots of snugglies and snogging.” Fine sputtered. “P-Pinkie!” “Oh-ho!” Sunflowers eyes waggled in Pinkie’s direction. “With his skills, I bet he knows all the best hiding places for on-demand face-sucking. How many unique places has he taken you to?” The poor stallion’s face was like a ripe tomato. His lack of stuttering probably had something to do with an inability to breathe. Pinkie felt her heart pitter-patter and her face split into a wide grin. “Oh. My. Gosh, Sunflower, that’s an amazing idea! Fine, you’ve gotta use your Sneaky McSneakery superpowers to find all sorts of cool places for us to get cozy. Under stairs, in closets, in Twilight’s library, in trees, in trash cans, in—” Fine covered his cherry face with both hooves. “P-Pinkie, mercy. Please.” Picklestone lowered a jar of pickles into a large steel pot to join others in water. “So you two are finally together, eh?” Pinkie nodded enthusiastically, hoofing him the next jar. “Yep! And it’s so awesome and amazing and Fine’s taking it like a champ.” PS grinned as he took the jar and placed it next to its kin. He started work sealing a lid onto the pot. “That’s great news! So where is he now?” “Outside.” She giggled at her old friend’s curious look. “Apparently he’s not fond of pickles. Doesn’t even like the smell.” She promptly took a bite of the free one she’d been given. It offered a loud crunch, much to her satisfaction. “Ah-ha!” Slapping the top of the sealed pot, Picklestone lit the fire on the stove and turned to her. “So he doesn’t like pickles, does he? In that case, I know what to threaten him with.” “Threaten him? Why would you want to do that?” “You’re my good friend, Pinkie Pie, and no good friend of mine is going to get her heart broken without repercussions.” Picklestone raised a hoof high as if to dictate terms. “I solemnly swear that should Fine Crime ever hurt you, I will sneak into his house and infuse all of his food stores with pickle flavoring.” Pinkie giggle-snorted at that thought. “Good luck, you’re gonna need it. Fine’s house is pretty hard to get into. I appreciate the thought, but I’m a big filly. Oh!” She ran her tongue along the side of her pickle with devilish glee. “I’m gonna finish this, then I’m gonna go kiss him. It’ll be hilarious!” Her pleasure rubbed off on the stallion, who promptly threw off his apron. “This I’ve gotta watch.” Cotton raised an eyebrow at Fine’s sour face. “You know, he doesn’t look so happy about this.” Pinkie was still giggling. “Don’t worry, he’s just got pickle taste in his mouth.” “It’s nasty,” Fine added with gravitas through gritted teeth. “She spat it in. I have tasted death, and it is pickles.” He shuddered. “I don’t like pickles.” Cotton stared at him, then sent a nonplussed look Pinkie’s way. “I’m trying to teach him the value of pranking,” she explained with a shrug and a smile. Fine leveled a glare her way. “By what measure of anypony’s scale can this foulness be considered to have value? My mouth has become a magical waste site, the repository of some of the worst funks ponykind has ever concocted, and you think it a point of humor.” Pinkie’s grin was like hardened steel against his unpleasantness. “Yes, yes I do.” His eyes narrowed. “There shall be repercussions, thou pink plague. The vengeance that shall be bestowed upon you will be remembered when this time is but ancient history. Princess Luna will mark it a holiday so that none shall forget the epic nature of your regret.” Cotton grinned and leaned towards Pinkie. “He’s really getting into it.” “I know, right?” With another giggle, she sent Fine her most innocent smile and a teasing wave. “That’s wonderful news, you two,” Scilla said, setting aside some blueprints on her desk. “I’m glad to see you’re taking it seriously.” Pinkie nodded solemnly and patted Fine on the back. “Fine here takes everything seriously. Especially if it’s not serious. Like pranking. I think he’s got a doozy whipped up for me.” “No,” Fine grumbled, licking his lips and grimacing. “At least, not yet. But someday.” “You see? He’s already learning the most important rule: don’t let the prankee know a prank is coming.” Scilla steepled her hooves on her desk and looked over the two with utmost seriousness. “We can get to the bottom of who is pranking who later. Right now, there is something far more serious that we need to discuss.” Pinkie gasped theatrically and leaned closer, ears turning forward. “What is it, what, what?” The dark-coated mare’s smirk could have frightened the chaos out of Discord. “When is the wedding, how many foals can we expect, and is he as good at doinking as he is at hiding?” Fine’s eyes shot wide open. “F-foals?” “W-wedding?” Pinkie thought her stomach might have imploded and produced a million butterflies with wings made from raw icing that was trying to give her a sugar rush. “That’s… I don’t…” They shared a pale-faced glance before blurting out in tandem, “Too soon!” Scilla nearly fell out of her chair laughing. Petri hoofed them the covered jars of soup. “Are you sure you don’t want me to whip up something special?” “Nope, we’re good.” Pinkie stuffed hers into her mane. At Fine’s questioning look, she added his in there too. “If I’m gonna have a special splenderific meal to celebrate, it’ll come with a party and the ability to eat solid food.” At the stallion’s pout, she asked, “What’s the matter?” Fine smiled and patted Petri’s shoulder. “You wanted to be part of the festivities, eh?” He nodded dejectedly. “You two have been great for business. Plus, watching you go from the bumbling kids to the proud special someponies you are now has been a treat.” He kicked at the floor with a sigh. “It’ll be a lot quieter around here when you go.” “Aww, poor, poor Petri.” Pinkie almost went in to give him a hug, but stopped herself. Petri didn’t seem like the type to be comforted with mere hugs. Rubbing her chin, she said, “Maybe when I’m all better you can come to Ponyville. Yeah! I usually go with Sugarcube Corner because family and all, but I can make an exception.” Fine raised a forestalling hoof and spoke with a playfully lecturing tone. “Pinkie, you can’t invite all of Rockstead to Ponyville for a party.” “Aww, why not?” His incredulous eyebrow brought out the giggles in her. “Silly Fine, of course I can’t invite everypony. Just our friends. Ah-ah.” She waggled her hoof in his face before any words could tumble out of his open mouth. “Our friends, as opposed to my friends. Fair enough?” He blinked, thought, then smiled. “Fair enough.” “I’d be happy to cater in Ponyville,” Petri declared, his own grin back in full force. “I’ll even whip up some new recipes for you two to test, since you didn’t get to try much while you were here beyond soups. Could I use your kitchen?” “I’d have to clear that up with the Cakes, so no promises.” She let out a gasp and flicked her tail up. A light bulb popped out and landed, perfectly balanced, upon the tip of her snout. “Idea! We can have the party at Fine’s place.” Fine’s face went pale. “What?” “Pinkie?” Trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach, she looked over her shoulder. Fine had his head low and his ears flat against his skull. He appeared almost as anxious as she felt. “I thought we were going to have a picnic.” Pinkie nodded and tried to smile for him. “We are. There’s a picnic area by the river, remember?” “I remember.” He studied her as he caught up, concern blatant in his gaze. “But do you really want to have it there? I mean, with what happened…” Her throat was dry and her hooves felt like lead, but she forced them to keep moving. They’d be approaching the valley soon. “I want to have it here. It’s… important.” Fine said no more, but kept close. She flicked her tail so that it wrapped around his. He couldn’t return the gesture as his tail was too short, but he smiled anyway. Pinkie’s hooves didn’t seem so heavy when he looked at her like that. Together, they trotted off the old road and down into the valley of tall pine trees. The place didn’t seem so dead and lonely as it had before. She reminded herself that these pine trees were of a variety that only seemed bare. In reality, it was common for them to grow wide trunks of extreme heights with only occasional, needle-covered limbs. They were gangly things, but healthy. They came upon the picnic area by the river. The dock was just where it had always been, pristine and uncaring for the coldness in Pinkie’s blood. She purposely avoided looking at the water, instead focusing on getting to one of the picnic tables. Yet when the time came, she still forced herself to face the dock. Fine stood to the side, looking between her and the muddy river. After a moment of shuffling and mumbling to himself, he finally chose to sit opposite her. She wasn’t sure why he chose to sit there instead of by her side. Maybe it was so she could focus on him instead of the dock? That sounded like something he’d do. As she pulled the jars of soup from her mane, Fine asked, “What’s your intention here?” She smiled for him, knowing it probably wouldn’t help his concern. “Surprise died here.” He nodded, clearly not understanding. “If I stay here for a little bit, maybe it’ll help me get over the past.” His lips curled into a sideways frown, his rosewood eyes not leaving hers. “I’m not sure this is the best thing for you to do.” “I have to try something,” she replied, rolling the jar around in her hooves in a bid to get rid of her excess anxiety. She cast her gaze around the picnic area, half-expecting to see a familiar pale mare. “You’ve been trying something,” he countered, though not with any force. “What do you call what we’ve been doing the last couple weeks?” Pursing her lips, Pinkie studied the shifting, swirling ingredients within her jar. She recalled the way She knew where they were sleeping. The voices in her head that had nearly all been quieted, if not completely silenced. All but one. “It’s not enough. It just isn’t.” Neither said anything for a time. The air was filled with the faint gurgling of the river, the light calls of birds, and the gentle rustling of the wind. It was a cool day, just enough so to be comfortable. A nice day for a picnic, or so Pinkie believed. If only she could get into the spirit of things. She realized she wanted Fine by her side. The table wasn’t wide, but it felt to her like he was a million miles away. She’d been having so much fun today, fun with him. Why’d she have to go and ruin it by insisting they come here? “There’s one more, isn’t there?” A black claw clenched her heart. She met his gaze with a whimper. “Y-yes.” He nodded, hooves resting on the table and expression solemn. “Care to tell me who?” When she shook her head, he sighed. “Pinkie, I’m not sure this is going to work at its best if you don’t.” “I know,” she whispered, holding the jar to her chest as if it might protect her. “But this isn’t the same. I’m afraid to face her. What if she hates me? She does. She hates me. If I go, she m-might…” “I’ll be with you,” he reminded her, as patient as ever. “I’m not sure even you can protect me from this,” she replied, turning her eyes to the worn wood of their table. “Some things are impossible.” He reached for her. After a moment’s hesitation, she met his hoof with her own. He smiled for her. “Whatever it is, I promise, I’ll be there. I’ll do whatever I can.” His hoof squeezed hers. Butterflies flew laps in her stomach. She managed a smile. “I appreciate that you want to help.” His expression fell. “You don’t believe I can. Pinkie, please, let me try.” “I’m not brave enough.” Fine blinked, cocked his head one way, then another. “After all we’ve done, you don’t think you’re brave enough?” Grimacing, she pulled her hoof away. “I told you, it isn’t the same. This is…” She fumbled with her words, trying to find the right way to explain it to him. A way without outright admitting that she’d… “It isn’t the same,” she finished lamely. Lips pursed, Fine tapped a hoof on the table. He stared right at her face, his own thoughtful and frustrated. She still couldn’t meet his gaze. “Would you say this is the most frightening thing you’ll ever have to face?” Not sure why he’d ask such a thing, Pinkie merely nodded. It didn’t take much consideration. Fine closed his eyes. Heaved a deep breath. Nodded. “I think it’s finally time for that trust exercise I’ve been considering.” He stood up and walked away. Pinkie only sat there, watching him approach the docks. What was he doing? Trust exercise? “Fine?” When he didn’t answer, she set her jar on the table next to his and followed. She caught up with him just as he stopped by the dock. His face had gone slightly pale. “What are you doing?” “Like I said, a trust exercise.” He didn’t look at her. His face remained aimed forward, his neck tense as if he were resisting the urge to change its position. Lips firmly closed, nostrils flaring, his body rose and fell with his heavy breathing. Then, with hesitant steps, he started walking onto the dock. One step. Two. He was over the water, his steps quiet on the wood. Pinkie watched, ears low as she tried to make sense of this. “Fine, you don’t need to go out there. What’s the point?” “The point,” he replied, a faint stutter in his tone, “is to show you how much I trust you. And honestly? I’m regretting this already. Please don’t try to talk me out of it or I might actually listen.” He was a half-dozen feet out now. The wobbling of his knees were likely part of why he was going so slowly. Pinkie wasn’t sure how to feel. How was him braving the dock a show of his trust in her? It was confounding, but in a small way she was also a little proud of him for taking this step. Perhaps he was trying to impress her. She’d spent the last couple weeks facing her demons. Perhaps this was his way of showing he could do the same thing. But that still didn’t amount to a trust exercise. Frowning, she started to follow him, keeping a few feet away lest she be tempted to grab him. Fine’s tail was tucked around his flank. His breathing came in slow, long gasps. “Th-this will have to do,” he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear. With shuffling steps, he turned around at a snail’s pace. The motion put him closer to the edge of the dock, the water lapping at the wood beneath his hooves. The smile he offered her was tremulous and showed too many teeth. “It might be too dangerous to go any further.” Despite herself, Pinkie smiled for him. A genuine one, if small. “It’s not like the water’s going to jump up and grab you.” She took a step closer. “Still, I’m impressed you made it that far. Do you need help getting back?” He chuckled, a jittery and uneven sound that made the hair on Pinkie’s neck stand on end. He closed his eyes tight. “More than you know.” Then he tipped over into the water. A precious second passed by for an eternity, the moment replaying in her mind. By the next second, she was sprinting. He’d fallen against the current, so he’d be going under the dock. Her blood chilled upon realizing that he would probably have no idea how to resurface. She dove, slipping into the icy, dark water without a second’s hesitation. Her world became brown and ugly, her range of vision so short she could barely see her hoof before her face. What if she couldn’t find him? What if he couldn’t resurface? What if nopony ever saw him again? No! Stay calm, Pinkamena. You can do this. Pinkie Sense. It wasn’t something she could actively control, but if she concentrated hard enough… Come on… Give me something. Help me help him. Please… Her right hoof trembled. She quickly realized it had nothing to do with the cold. She swam right, legs fighting the current. The trembling lessened. She straightened. Her lungs began to burn, but she didn’t dare rise. Not yet. If she was having trouble, Fine would be in even worse shape. Her left hoof tingled as if it had been shocked. She followed the sensation, paddling sideways with the current. A shape emerged, and for an instant Pinkie knew relief. Until she bumped up against it and realized it was nothing more than a submerged log. The fire was building in her chest. Where are you? Oh, Celestia. Fine, what were you thinking? You stupid, stupid colt! Her rear hoof twisted as if attempting to pull her backwards. She reacted on instinct, turning around and swimming against the current. The log. She was heading back for the log. Why the log? Was Pinkie Sense guiding her in the wrong direction? She couldn’t afford to make a mistake now! The log came into view. Her ears twitched and folded against her head. She swam lower, running her hoof along the log’s knotted surface—there! Something soft, something shivering. It had to be Fine. She felt carefully and realized he’d curled into a ball and was being pressed against the log and the river bottom by the current. Though her legs ached from the effort and her lungs were threatening to burst, she took her time moving around the log. She thanked Celestia for earth pony strength, easily dislodging him and wrapping her forelegs around his middle. Her precious cargo secured, she began walking along the river bottom in the direction her trembling hind legs suggested was shore. At least, she hoped they were. It was impossible to tell if their wobbling was Pinkie Sense or her own strength giving out. The murk grew lighter, even despite the mud she was kicking up. Fine shook like a foal in his mother’s arms. Just when it felt like Pinkie was going to lose her battle against her lungs, her head poked out of the water. Not quite far enough to get her mouth out, she sucked in precious air through her nostrils. One breath. Two. Then she grabbed Fine by the head and pushed it above water. He let out a gasp and started coughing up murky, brown liquids. Pinkie’s heart slowed, but relief didn’t come. Something else came along, transferring the furnace from her lungs to her brain. She dragged Fine out of the water and threw him onto the muddy bank. Then she just stood there, still knee-deep in the water, and seethed. Fine continued to hack and wheeze, water bursting from his lips and nostrils. When it was finally over, he rolled onto his back and laughed. It was the kind of sound one makes when they realize they are not, in fact, on death’s door. “Th-that is not… something I ever… intend to repeat,” he said through his gasps. With one last breath, Pinkie stomped towards him. He saw her approach but made no attempt to get up. She caught his mane in her teeth and jerked him to his hooves, eliciting a pained yelp from the stallion. Then, once sure that he was standing on his own four trembling hooves, she reared around and bucked him with all the strength she could muster. She might not be able to buck like Applejack, but she was still an earth pony, and the force of her blow sent Fine flying into a nearby tree shoulder-first. For a time, there was silence. Pinkie glared at the river, not bothering to shake off the water or wipe her soaked mane from her face. Then Fine spoke, his voice weak. “Ow. Okay, I admit, I had that coming.” “That, and so much more,” Pinkie growled through her teeth. Then she turned on him. He lay in a position not unlike how Lyra Heartstrings would sometimes sit on benches, legs sprawled apart and head spinning. “What the heck were you thinking, pulling a stunt like that? You could have been killed! What if I hadn’t reacted fast enough? What if my Pinkie Sense didn't help me save you? You don’t even know how to swim!” He raised a hoof, but couldn’t keep it steady. “None of those things happened. B-because… because…” His eyes slowly widened. “Oh, Luna, I can’t b-believe I did that.” He curled in on himself, rocking and staring at nothing. His breathing became ragged. “I knew y-you’d save me, but still… Tartarus. Tartarus. N-never again.” Pinkie stomped, sending mud flying. “You didn’t know that! You had no idea if I could do it! What is wrong with you?” She almost bucked him again, but restrained herself. She stomped in a pacing circle, steam rising from her nostrils with every fiery breath. “That was stupid. So stupid! Why would you do that, Fine? I want to know why before I buck you back in!” “I t-trust you.” His small pupils locked with her hard gaze. He looked every bit the child who had just awoken from a nightmare. “I trust you, P-Pinkie. With my greatest fear. With my life. I trust y-you.” His gaze doused water on her flames but couldn’t completely extinguish them. She stared at him, throat suddenly dry. Her heart twisted at that fearful, pleading expression. “There are betters ways to show that.” “There aren’t,” he muttered, wrapping his forelegs around himself. “There aren’t. M-my life had to be in danger.” “No, it didn’t!” “I knew you’d s-save me.” “No, you didn't!” Pinkie lowered her head and tried not to let the tears out. She could feel her lip trembling as the shock and adrenaline vacated her system. “You didn’t. You could have died. I might not have gotten to you in time. What then, Fine?” Slowly, ever so gradually, he pulled himself out of his ball and sat up. His teeth chattered as he smiled. “Not once. Even when my lungs felt like they’d burst and I still hadn’t felt your touch. Not once did I ever doubt you’d be there. Not even death and fear will take away my faith in you. If I need you, you’ll be there.” Her voice cracked. “But I might not!” “Then I’ll die believing you will.” “That doesn’t even make sense!” She threw her hooves in the air, and when they came back down they landed on his shoulders. She pulled him into a tight hug and buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing. “That doesn’t make sense. It d-doesn’t make sense at all.” He wrapped her in his forelegs and nuzzled her neck. “To steal a line from a certain draconequus, where’s the fun in making sense?” Pinkie jerked back. “Don’t say that! He might actually show up.” Fine’s muddy hooves caught her face. He grinned. “I love you so much.” He moved in for a kiss. She moved away, holding him back with a hoof to his chest. “You promise me you’ll never do something like that again. Pinkie Promise!” His smile not fading one iota, Fine went through the appropriate motions. “Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” At last his cheer faded to something subtler. He leaned in and nuzzled her once more. “I am sorry, Pinkie. Really. But I had to show you somehow. I trust you with my very soul, and I want to do anything I can for you. But I can’t do that if you won’t let me.” She licked her lips, cringing at the grit that ended up on her tongue. She had to answer. Fine’s intentions were clear. What he’d just done was one of the most idiotic things she’d ever witnessed… but the message had been delivered. She should reciprocate. She knew it. Yet the thought of going to that place again, of facing what she’d done… “I’ll think about it,” she muttered, holding tight to him once more. “T-tomorrow. Give me until then.” Please don’t make me Pinkie Promise. Please, oh, please… Fine answered without hesitation. “Tomorrow, then.” He leaned back to smile for her. “So. Shall we get back to our dinner or would you like to buck me again?” “Oh, my goodness!” She jumped back and eyed him, gasping upon seeing a pair of bruises forming on the side of his chest. “I kicked you real hard. I didn’t break anything, did I? Do we need to get a doctor?” As if bringing the attack up reminded him of the pain, Fine flinched and felt at his wound. “Pretty sure you bruised a rib or two. Might be a hairline fracture. I’ve had worse.” “Oh, no! I’m so sorry.” She raised her hooves to her lips, trembling as she realized just how hard she’d hit him. “I-I’ll get Dr. Sawbones. We’ll get you fixed up in a jiffy, just you wait!” She didn’t get a single step in before Fine caught her tail in his magic and pinned it to the ground. “No, no, there’s no need for that. I’ll just have to be a little less active for a few days, that’s all. This is a minor inconvenience compared to some of the things I’ve gotten as an Archon.” No matter how much she tugged, Fine’s magical grip on her tail was impossible to budge. Sighing, she sat down once more and studied his bruises. “You’re not exactly a young buck anymore. You can’t keep taking hits like that.” “Are we gonna have to get you a nurse’s outfit?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, prompting a fresh fire to come to her cheeks. “Actually, I don’t think I’d mind that.” “Fine, be serious!” “You, asking me to be serious?” “Fiiine!” “Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” Pressing a hoof to her face, she grumbled, “For such a smart stallion, you sure can be an idiot sometimes. I still can’t believe you did that.” He stared soberly at his hooves, a flash of anxiety passing through his eyes. “Neither can I. It really was stupid of me, wasn’t it?” He flinched and added, quietly, “Let’s just keep this one between us, hmm? If any of your friends find out about this…” “You’d get what you deserve.” Heaving a sigh, Pinkie turned away. “Come on, let’s get something to eat. My soup’s gonna be all gritty now thanks to you.” “Sorry.” He got up and limped to her side. They walked in silence for a little while, the currents having taken them well away from the camp. Pinkie spent the trip thinking about what Fine had done and what it really meant. As upset as she still was over it, she had to admit that it had done exactly what he’d intended. What more powerful statement could he have possibly offered her? The fact that Fine trusted her that much had a polarizing effect on her emotions. There was great pleasure in knowing he thought so highly of her, but also a numbing horror that she might not be worthy of such trust. What could she do with this? She had no idea. Fine’s purpose was obvious. Did that mean she could trust him to help her get through one last piece of her past? The most important piece. If his theory regarding Bloodmanes was true, then it might be the single most important thing she could do. He deserved to know. It was wrong of her to refuse to do it, especially after going through so much these past two weeks. Was this really so much worse? Yes. It really was. Fine bumped her with his shoulder, drawing her out of her hoofbiting thoughts. “So, am I sleeping in my own room, tonight?” She almost took it to be a joke, but a glance out the corner of her eye revealed he was completely serious. It struck her as amusing; he was like the husband who’d been bad and feared he’d be banished to the couch. What did that say about their relationship that it already felt that way? Her mental highway nearly crashed at the thought that they might have just had their first lover’s quarrel. Somehow she managed to steer around the wrecked Pinkies and Rainbows and Rarities and keep her mind on track, though she might have left a few skid marks in the pavement. Her mind settled on a simple truth, which prompted her to lean into him. “I only just got you to stay with me,” she cooed in his ear. “I’m not ready to give that up yet.” With a sad smile, he pressed his cheek to hers. “You’re too good for me. I’m really sorry I put you through all that.” “I know you are.” She smiled. “We need showers.” He pulled his head away just enough to send her a sidelong, wry look. “Together?” Her smile became a grin. “Together sounds good.” They pressed together once more, and soon Fine was whispering a familiar stanza. “You're in my heart, you're in my soul…”