December 1st, 1000 Domina Solaria
Doug pulls the door open to the Carousel Boutique, the bell above chiming merrily. The dressmaker’s shop is mostly empty, the lights already dimmed against the night outside. He doesn’t recognize the pegasus mare chatting with Rarity, though the hat on her head and scarf around her neck are certainly the unicorn’s design.
Her eyes briefly flick over at the arriving human, returning to Rarity for half a second before the conversation comes to a screeching halt. Her face locks in place as she does a double take, her eyes growing wide. She steps to the side, then again, almost hiding behind the unicorn.
“What is that!?” she loudly exclaims, pointing a hoof at Doug accusingly.
Before the pegasus has a chance to continue Rarity puts a hoof on her back, the mare stopping abruptly. Rarity steps towards Doug, a warm grin on her muzzle as she brightly greets him. “Darling! Is it that time already? So good of you to come.” She turns back to the pegasus, offering a conciliatory smile, “I’m terribly sorry, dear, but Doug here does have an appointment. Let me know if you need any adjustments, or perhaps an accessory to spruce it up!”
The pegasus slowly nods, grunting out a, “Sure,” as she takes the long way around Doug. “You really should have let me know sooner.” Her eyes never leave him as she gets to the exit, scurrying outside in a burst of speed.
“So,” Doug says, a grimace replacing his pleasant smile, “finally able to slot me in?”
"Winter is my busiest time of the month. Lots of ponies needing a bit more to play in the snow, or repairing old garments. Why, it's my favorite time of year!" Rarity beams. "Though, the fashions can get a little stifling. Not enough variety, you know?" She frowns at Doug's lack of enthusiasm, walking up to nuzzle her stallion. “I am sorry about her,” Rarity says soothingly, her horn lighting and tidying up the various ribbons and decorations she was using to demonstrate accents. “She’s from Cloudsdale, and wasn’t expecting to see you, I’m sure.”
“Right.” Doug pulls off his jacket, shivering at the chill in the room and stepping towards the dressing area. “So, which measurements do you need?”
“I might as well take all of them,” Rarity says, motioning down with her head, a smile curling up. “Do you have any preference for what you wish to wear?”
Doug waves his hand in front of his chest, “I was thinking some sort of suit. Likely closer to a full body version instead of the halves or quarters I see some of the ponies around here wearing, but I trust your expertise, Madame.” He strips off his gloves as Rarity levitates over a tape measure that winds its way around his fingers and wrist. “Ah, making me another pair of gloves?” He grins. “I do like protecting my filly fondlers.”
Rarity rolls her eyes, stopping her measuring to give Doug the longest-suffering look she can.
“My mare massagers?” Doug asks, demonstrating on Rarity’s withers.
“Better, darling,” Rarity replies with a grin, pushing up against him, “and you do tend to go through them fairly quickly. Since I expect them to get a lot of use this winter, we’ll need to make sure they are well protected.” She steps back as the tape measure unravels, marking the measurements and taking a quick trace of his hand. “Of course, I did promise to you back when I got the ticket to the Gala that I would make a special pair, after all. Now, how did you want the design to go?”
“I was thinking each cutie mark on a knuckle, or possibly on the pads on the fingers.” Doug motions to the tips of each hand, rubbing them together. “Which do you think looks better?”
“Knuckle would be far more visible. And, while it might be nice to be rubbed by our cutie mark, I don’t necessarily like the implication that we are each ‘under your finger’, so to say.” Rarity pulls out one of her patterns for Doug’s gloves, her horn flaring and making a small teal diamond on one of the knuckles, then the tip.
“‘Under my thumb’ would be the correct idiom. Or wrapped around my finger.” Doug smirks, “I know you like to think I’m wrapped around your horn.”
“And am I wrong, darling?” Rarity asks, returning a smirk. At Doug’s silences her grin grows wider, returning to her work. “And I’m assuming you want them alternating right, then left, herd order?”
“Just like when we brought Twilight and Trixie in.” Doug inspects his hand, pressing first the knuckle on his index finger on the right hand, back and forth until he ends up on the pinkie on his right side.
Rarity flutters her eyelashes as she presses her head into his hand, eye widening as she stares up at him. “You know, that leaves three open spots. And, I'm just saying, there are three Princesses...”
“Come on, Rarity,” Doug replies with a bit of exasperation. “Just because you fantasize about that doesn’t mean that it’s something that is going to happen.”
“...Yet,” Rarity adds with a cheeky grin. “I know it’s different for stallions, but mares have certain needs.”
“Nah, stallions have those too.” Doug grunts as Rarity wraps a tape measure around his chest, lightly pulling him down.
"Yes, but it's not the same. And the Princesses have been waiting an awfully long time.” Rarity pecks Doug on the cheek as the front door opens, the bell chiming merrily. The two glance over before she releases him, the human standing up straight again. “Just saying.”
“Hi Rarity! Hi Doug!” Derpy calls as she stumbles into the store. “Oops!”
A loud clatter comes from the main entrance, Rarity facehoofing. She mutters, “How many times have I told her to wait in the entrance…” She forces a smile to Doug as she heads towards the gray pegasus mailmare.
Derpy is standing still, directly next to a knocked over ponnequin, whistling nonchalantly. “Great shop you got here!” She spins around, her tail knocking over a basket of ribbons. “Oops!”
“Thank you,” Rarity says, raising a hoof to ward off a bit of debris flying towards her. “Did you need something?”
“I have a letter for you!” Derpy says eagerly, spinning around to try to snatch a letter out of her mailbags. She eventually catches up, pulling the letter out with her teeth. “Here you go!”
“Shouldn’t your shift have finished hours ago?” Rarity asks as her horn lights, pulling the slightly damp letter away from Derpy and opening it up.
“...Yeah,” Derpy says, awkwardly shuffling her hooves back and forth. “But then I got lost, and…”
“It’s quite alright, dear,” Rarity says with a soft smile. She scans through the letter, her brow furrowing. “This can’t be right.”
“No, I’m sure this is the right place.” Derpy motions around her. “Carousel Boutique.” She points to the address on the letter. “Carousel Boutique. See?” She grins.
“Yes, yes,” Rarity says dismissively. She yells, “Spike!” as she turns to the stairs.
The sounds of scurrying comes from upstairs, followed by a door banging open. “Yes?” Spike calls from the top of the stairs.
“First, what have I said about leaving the door open?” Rarity asks, a hard look on her face.
Spike awkwardly kicks at the floor. “Nothing happened,” he ekes out. Sweetie Belle appears next to him, nodding along.
“Not the point. This is your second warning.” Rarity raises the letter in her blue aura. “More importantly, why do I have a letter from Hoity Toity's assistant, giving us a friendly reminder that Hoity Toity will be here tomorrow and wants to make sure everything is going to be ready for the 'big fashion show'?”
Spike’s eyes widen as Sweetie Belle takes a step away from him. “What? I talked to him when I went to Canterlot back in August, but I still remember it clearly! I’m certain that he said the twelfth of February. He even wrote it down!”
Rarity’s eyes widen, her breath coming in short spurts. “He wrote it down?” Another few quick breaths. “Not his assistant?” She grimaces as Spike nods his head. She races up the stairs and past Spike, throwing open the door to her office, the dragon following behind.
Derpy quietly states, “I’m going to go, if nopony minds.” Not hearing anything, she slinks to the front door. “Have a good lay, you two!” She leaves with a grin and wave, Doug rolling his eyes as he waves back, closing the door behind her.
“Um, yes?” Spike continues as Rarity sifts through her papers. “Why would that matter?”
“Because Hoity Toity writes how he talks!” Rarity rips out the relevant note. “See this?” She waves the paper back and forth. “What does that say?!”
The note is extraordinarily ornate for a very simple message, filled with swirls and accents, even a little drawing of a folded fan on the bottom. “The twelfth of two?” Spike stares at the note. “So what, he didn’t write out February? He’d have probably used up twice as much space.”
“No!” Rarity slams a hoof to her head. “You write letters for Twilight! How do you write the date?”
“Month, then day.” Spike pauses for a second. Rarity stares at him. Realization dawns on his face. “Oh.”
“‘Oh’ is right!” Rarity stuffs the note back into her file, then races back downstairs. “He probably wrote it down, and gave it to his assistant, and she scheduled him to come out here! That means that I have to finish all seven dresses by tomorrow morning!”
“Well, it’s better than tonight,” Spike says, though he quails as Rarity spins to glare at him. “Too soon?”
“It hardly matters if it is not soon enough, since I haven’t even started half of the dresses! This is going to be a disaster!” Rarity’s head thuds against the window, the reinforced glass holding up well. Her hooves pull at the skin under her eyes as she stares towards the train station, dreading the inevitable disaster of a show.
“Well, I only told him about the six of you, since I didn’t know Trixie would be joining the herd. Actually, what really got his interest was when I told him about Doug.” Spike glances over at Doug as the human sighs. “Sorry?”
“Nah, it’s fine,” Doug says with a shake of his head. “I’ll probably get way more attention than I want at the Gala anyway, so might as well get them used to the concept now.” Doug grunts as he looks up at Cloudsdale, “I suppose they didn’t make a big fuss or anything about me being at the Best Young Flyers competition or anything.”
“No, I don’t think you were mentioned,” Rarity says offhoofedly. “Spitfire certainly didn’t say a word to the press, and other than the brief mention of a potential recruit losing a bunch of sprints I don’t think the papers said anything, either. Not enough ‘pony bites griffon’ in the story to make the headlines.”
“Yeah, well, maybe this time we’ll be able to give a little more heads up that I’m coming.” Doug shrugs, “Or, I’ll stay in the shadows the whole time. Who knows.”
“And no matter what you do, you’ll look fabulous doing it,” Rarity says with a grin. “But I still need to make five dresses and a suit!”
“You have one finished already?” Doug asks.
“Applejack, since I had her inspiration already. It’s just packed away. Upstairs, third floor. Do be a dear and pull it out for me, I’ll need to make sure that it fits.” Rarity sighs heavily, looking to Spike and Sweetie Belle. “I don’t suppose I can count on you two to round up the mares of the herd? Bring them here, though preferably not all at once. I’ll need them here to help design a unique and magnifique dress for each of them!” Rarity glances up at the clock, grimacing, “And it looks like I’ll have to work all night to do it!”