Trixie - Day 7
*BANG BANG BANG*
“Ms. Lulamoon?” The whole wagon shook from the impact of a most insistent knocker.
“Go away…” Her groaned reply was that of a happy, if tired, unicorn. She had been having the most wonderful dream, and groggily waking up to find that her reverie of being curled up against Jot’s chest, under his protective wings, was real... only reinforced her decision to stay put.
She couldn’t help the smile that bloomed across her face though, as memories from the previous day and evening flooded back to her. The smooches, the cuddles, the whispered promises… the intimacy. For the first time in a long time that dark voice, that lingering maw of loneliness wasn’t waiting for her. She wasn’t alone.
*BANG BANG BANG*
“I said go away!” Trixie shouted, getting annoyed, she snatched a nearby smoke bomb and hurled it at the door. Luckily the previous night’s romantic activities had disabled the device, which simply clattered against the door with a thunk.
“Hmmmf… who is it?” Jot’s sleepy yawn preceded his question, before he nuzzled her face with his nose and rubbed her lower back with his left forehoof.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Trixie giggled, booping the pegasus with her nose as she did so.
“Don’t you mean good evening?” He blinked. “We slept through most of the day.”
“Can you blame us?” Trixie wiggled her eyebrows. “We were up most of the ni-”
*BANG BANG BANG*
“Buzz off! I’m not doing my show today!”
“Ma’am, this is the police - if you don’t do your show we’re gonna have a riot out here.” A distinctly more authoritarian and insistent rumble came from the door.
That got her attention. Jot’s eyes were wide too, staring at her with wonder. ”Guess you better answer it.”
She slid from under his wing, feeling her grimy, sweaty body creak and click with soreness and exhaustion. The good kind.
She trotted over to the door, opening it with an annoyed push. A heavy blast of thick fog-like, humid air blasted out from inside, accumulated after hours of being cooped up with Jot. She was surprised to find two female police officers and the male organizer of the park show all standing there, nostrils flaring as the intense smell rolled over them, making the cops blush and the organizer cough and politely adjust himself .
Served them right for interrupting. “J-just… what is going on?” Trixie sighed with frustration.
“Your show is supposed to start in 5 minutes, Ms. Lulamoon… we’ve gotta get you to the stage ASAP!” The show director, a middle-aged unicorn-stallion with a mop of green mane chirped anxiously, checking his watch and dancing on his hoof tips. In all the years she’d done the Manehattan summer show circuit she’d never seen this organizer’s pulse rise above that of a lethargic sloth… now he looked like he’d had fifteen cups of coffee.
“I don’t understand, can’t you just tell the crowd that my show is cancelled this evening and go straight to the next performer?”
“You don’t understand miss.” One of the officers interjected. “There’s probably twenty or thirty thousand ponies out in the field - and they’re here for you.”
Trixie blinked. She glanced over the officers’ heads, toward the show-grounds in the distance… and saw a massive crowd of all shapes, sizes and colors, completely filling the usually sparse, multi-use field. Was she still dreaming? She’d never had a crowd larger than a hundred or so ponies… this… this was insane.
“We need to get you moving so we can escort you through the crowd to the stage.” The other officer checked her watch, then turned to bark something into her radio.
“I… I don’t understand…” Trixie whispered breathlessly.
“It was that article.” The director piped up. “The last day it’s been all anyone can talk about! Ponies have been clamoring for the Flim-Flam brothers to get out of the news business, and everypony has wanted to support you!”
“Manehattanites love to support an underdog…” Jot chuckled, trotting up from inside the wagon to take in what was happening with wonder.
“Well, sir…” One of the cops rolled her eyes, annoyed. “Manehattanites also love a good riot - which is what will happen if they think Trixie Lulamoon’s final show has been cancelled instead of giving the city a chance to make up for its past shortcomings…”
“We want Trixie… We want Trixie… We want Trixie…” The start of a distant chant rumbled through the evening air, as the voice of thousands of ponies demanded to see her.
And surprisingly, she found that she didn’t care. Only a week ago, she would have killed to get this kind of attention. Now… she pressed in against the side of the handsome stallion standing next to her… she only wanted the attention of one pony.
“Hey, Trixie… go on. Can’t leave your audience hanging.” Jot’s chuckle warmed her, his hip check got her to step forward.
But she didn’t want to go. Not really. She knew it wasn’t realistic, but she wanted to stay in that wagon with Jot… forever. Trapped in that moment. She bit her lip, then turned to face him, fixing him with an intense stare.
“You’re not… going to go anywhere, are you?”
Jot laughed. “Trix, I just lost my job, and have no idea how I’m going to pay rent. I was going to beg you for a place to stay.”
“I’m serious.” She didn’t want a joking answer. That wasn’t what she needed, not now.
She watched as his laugh paused and his features became thoughtful. ‘He must know what I’m asking.’
“Trixie, I’m not going anywhere.” The sincerity in the words was only matched by the expression on his face. “Ever. We’re stuck together now.”
‘I… I didn’t expect him to say it like that.’ Trixie felt her face flush and her heart pound. Images flashed through her head - marriage, foals, living together, long walks, going on tour, meeting his family, introducing her friends… she wanted it so badly! She blushed and looked at the ground.
“G-g-good… b-because the Great and Powerful Trixie will need a publicist…and since you’re now probably looking for work…”
“Hmm…” Jot smiled, pretending to consider. “Is it a lifetime appointment?”
“Eeep!” A delighted squeak slipped from her lips before she could compose herself. “O-of… of course… you would make T-tri… me so happy Jot.”
“Me too.”
She didn’t remember leaning in, or him moving. But in a flash they were kissing. Embracing - and she knew she had him… and he had her. Now and forever.
“Ahem…” One of the cops tapped her watch.
She coughed, and turned away from the embrace, blinking away tears of happiness. “I guess I should get going.”
“I’ll be watching…” Jot grinned, following her down her wagon stairs. “Hey,” he chirped, bringing out a moist tea-towel and hoofing it to her, “You should wipe yourself down before you go on stage… somepony really made a mess of you last night.”
“Pfft… showoff.”
“Takes one to know one.” He grinned back at her with a raised eyebrow.
She chuckled, then shot him a wink. “Enjoy the show… we’ll have a private one later.”
“Go on you naughty magical mare, the whole city is waiting.”
Trixie snagged her hat and propped it on her head then turned with confidence. More confidence than she’d ever felt before, no doubtful voice in her mind now.
Showtime.