//------------------------------// // 6. Just Desserts // Story: The Substitute Librarian // by Georg //------------------------------// The Substitute Librarian Just Desserts “Hey, Greenie. There’s a policemare here for you.” “Osteomalacia-induced wingbone distortion,” gasped Emerald as he bolted up from the bedroom floor with two pages of notes still stuck to his face. “Or undiagnosed erythematosus causing joint… Oh, Bunky. Policemare?” “Officer Grace,” said the neatly dressed unicorn mare behind his fellow fraternity brother. The fraternity hallway was dim because several of the illumination workings had been scavenged to complete midterm projects by the engineers among his frat brothers, making the quadratic equations covering every inch of the walls difficult to see, and the dark green mare in the blue uniform practically fade into the shadows. “If you will come with me, sir?” “Because…?” Although he was still blinking away sleep, Emerald was not about to burn any of the precious Day down at the police station, not-answering questions about whatever his frat brothers had done during Night. “It’s about the library.” The laconic expression on the policemare did not shift one muscle, but Emerald practically hopped up off the floor and dove into his notes. “Another Bearer mission this soon?” he grumbled, stuffing notes into his bag and holding a quill in his teeth. “I might as well move into the library and live there until midterms are over. Bunky, make sure the professors know I’m missing the exams while on Crown business, so I don’t get gigged. Repeat that back to me.” “What?” asked Bunky before tearing his eyes off the slim unicorn mare with the silky dark green coat and managing a weak focus back on his fellow frat brother. “On second thought, take this note to my professors,” muttered Emerald through the quill in his teeth, scratching away on the desk notepad. “Make sure they know I’m on Crown business and that I get to retake my exams without being gigged for missing them. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” The policemare seemed subtly entertained by Emerald’s bag-stuffing, although she did not contribute one thaum to his efforts, or help him with his unbalanced load while they hustled downstairs and out into the dimness of the early morning Canterlot streets. She did however, raise one eyebrow when he stopped on the sidewalk. “Escort to the train station?” he prompted, expecting the gut-twisting sensation of teleportation like the last time he had been picked up at the frat house for his substitute librarian job. “We will be walking,” she said instead, turning to stride down the sidewalk with long, brisk steps. It took little time for Emerald to catch up, and he managed to get his thought processes jump-started by the exercise before they had traveled a single block. “We’re not going to the train station, are we?” “No, sir.” A few steps later, Emerald added, “Are you taking me to the police station, then?” “Yes, sir.” After due consideration, he hazarded, “What if I refuse?” The young mare shrugged and kept up her brisk pace. “I’d have to arrest you, your father would send a lawyer, and most of the day would be taken up by unproductive arguments, shouting, threats, legal actions, posturing, that kind of thing.” “Oh.” Emerald continued walking for a time while thinking. “How do I know you’re not going to get me to spill whatever few beans I have, and then arrest me anyway?” “Because…” Now it was the policemare’s turn to look contemplative. “I will give you my word.” “Your word?” echoed Emerald. “You expect me to trust you? That will be cold comfort for when I wind up in a cell.” “The Princess trusts you. The Princesses, that is. I have gone over your records extensively and believe that you are sufficiently honest that I can trust you in return. And… Well, there is one other thing, but I shall reserve that question for later. I can give you no more assurances.” “I… suppose.” Emerald made a sharp turn into a nearby Starbuckers. When he came out with a cardboard carrier on his back, Officer Grace was standing there with the same patient look on her face. “Since we’re going to be at your office for a while, I got your usual,” explained Emerald as he continued walking. “The barista knew you.” “Practical.” The unicorn mare floated a foam cup out of the cardboard carrier, took a sip, then returned it with a grimace. “The quality I’ve learned to expect.” Emerald shrugged. “Sue me. I still think you’re going to arrest me anyway.” Officer Grace shook her head, making the tight bob of reddish mane at the back of her head wobble. “Believe it or not, I am far more interested in finding out what is going on.” “Ahh…” Emerald picked up his pace. “You know, I think the feeling is mutual.” “And when our conversation is complete, and you return to your studies,” continued Grace without missing one step. “Remember that on the exam, it’s never erythematosus.” - - Ω - - It was the fastest Emerald had ever gone through a police station, and on a side of the dividers he had not seen before. Rather than an interrogation stall, the two of them appropriated a smaller conference room that still had an empty box that once held donuts littering the desk, and Grace brushed away the crumbs before dropping the first thick folder down on the cleaner surface. “What?” asked Emerald. “No threats of prosecution? No searches of my possessions for nefarious plans?” He looked around the conference room. “No one-way mirrors?” Grace shook her head again. “We received your file as a matter of procedure before you were assigned your task in the Ponyville library. I was the one who did the preliminary security investigation. In addition, when the reports began coming in early last evening, I took the liberty of sending for your recent academic records. I doubt that you have had the time to plot treason against Their Highnesses’ representatives.” “Treason?” Emerald lifted one eyebrow and peered at the flattened parchment scroll that Grace scooted across the table to him. He read for a while, then looked back up. “I’m conflicted. She’s writing this on parchment that I purchased. Are these even laws?” “Two of them are,” admitted Grace. “Several of the city attorneys are looking into the last one. Either Twilight Sparkle made an error in her transcription, or you somehow managed to merkle a fizgomet.” “The fizgomet probably deserved it.” Emerald flipped the sheet over and passed it back, only to have Grace send another bundle of parchment sheets his way, this one about twice as thick. “That was the initial missive,” she said in a perfectly flat voice. “This one was sent about an hour later.” “Theft. Grand Theft Shopping Cart. Theft again. Misappropriation of funds. Malicious mischeif is misspelled. Hm…” Emerald made a correction with the red pencil from his pocket, then read for a while, turning pages and making marks as needed. “Probably has to do with the boxes of scrap books I sent in for pulping, and the check I wrote Uncle Picker for replacements. There’s several boxes of books in Mrs. Bradel’s care also that didn’t get recorded in the ledger, so… Still, the estimated loss she has listed for the—” he squinted “—armed robbery and ultra grand larceny in the first degree is too high. And redundant.” “New volumes, first editions. They don’t come cheap.” Grace slid over a book catalog. Emerald slid it back. “Public library. Secondhoof purchases and… I better stop there,” admitted Emerald. “Your ‘Uncle’ Picker, I presume,” said Officer Grace. “Frankly, I’m torn. He provided a great number of my textbooks during my school years, and I have several of his volumes in my private library.” “Uh-huh,” said Emerald, working his way through the sheaf of parchment. “All first editions, of course,” added Grace. “Of course.” Emerald turned a page and stopped. “A writ of replevin? What’s that?” “An action to recover the property you supposedly stole,” said Grace, still watching his face. “I.e. the vast collection of the Golden Oak Library historical references and antique texts snatched callously away from their shelves and flung into an unknown and most probable horrific fate.” It took a while to properly absorb the legal charges. “You know, a mouse ate all the way through several of them, and I really don’t want to guess what the book on plumbing was used for.” “I didn’t say it made sense,” stated Grace. “I said she was filing the legal demand.” “Should be easy enough to abide by the recycled letters of the law,” mused Emerald as he flipped forward a page. “I’ll get Picker to load up a wagon full of wood pulp and dump it— No, better not. Twilight Sparkle is wound tight enough to be used as a watch spring already.” “She is the trusted student of Princess Celestia,” said Grace, “bearer of the Element of Magic, noted scholar—” “And if you stuck a lump of coal up her ass, you’d have a diamond inside of a week. I already have parents like that, so I don’t need some short-tempered librarian trying to control my life,” said Emerald under his breath. He flipped forward another page, then looked up into Grace’s wide eyes. “What, did I say that out loud?” The policemare seemed to be having some sort of problem with her bottom lip. It twitched, and a tear was forming in the corner of one eye. “I will… disregard that for the moment,” she said after a while. “All of the Bearers have their own idiosyncrasies, but Twilight Sparkle has an impressive collection. One must realize the importance of her work is sufficient to overcome them, as well as be considered one of the most critical assets of the Princesses.” “So…” Emerald considered his relative position, which was quite low and rug-like, before returning to the impressive collection of documents. “She wrote all of this last night, after going out on some dangerous mission for the Princess. Risking her life for several days, then… Did she write a report on what the Bearers did?” “That’s classified,” said Grace, with a certain stubbornness to her tone that indicated she was not privy to that information either. “So either my actions made her report be delivered late to Her Highness,” mused Emerald, “or she managed to write a report already and all this, which is just crazy. I mean priorities,” he added with a wave of one hoof. “If I’m such a threat, why was I sent to librarysit her precious books, and if she’s just having a serious angst fit about her latest Bearer mission…” Inspiration struck, and hard enough for Emerald to stop talking for a moment. “She’s coping.” “Beg pardon?” asked Grace, who appeared slightly set back at his rambling train of thought. “Everypony copes with stress in different ways,” he started, falling by habit into his best lecturing cadence. “I get a little hypersensitive and start contingency planning, my father spends extra hours at work hammering out new projects, my mother cuts the heads off flowers in the greenhouse, and you…” Emerald looked his polite captor in the eyes, shifted his gaze down to the image of a camera on her flank, then nodded. “Eidetic memory, I presume?” “Photographic, yes.” Grace lit her horn up, and a small illusion of Emerald’s frat room appeared on the table in front of them. “I never forget a detail.” “So you never forget a stressful moment either,” continued Emerald, “which means your favorite way of dealing with stress is not to deal with stress. I’ll bet Twilight Sparkle deals with the Bearer mission stress with a quill. She takes it out on anypony except Her Divinity, Princess Celestia, which I can’t blame her for. Heavens knows, I’d never want to dump on Her Highness. So—” he prodded the pile of parchment “—I get to be her bucking bag.” “That does seem consistent with the treatment her previous librarian substitutes endured,” said Grace with a slow nod as she let the greenish illusion of Emerald’s messy room fade away. “She has high standards, but some of her complaints were slightly excessive.” “Slightly?” Emerald gave her another close look. “You’re not her sister or something, are you? An aunt, perhaps?” Grace shook her head. “No relation. My House does not cross with hers inside the last five generations or so. Or yours, for that matter.” “Meh.” Emerald prodded the thick pile of parchment again. “So how do I get out of here without being arrested?” “One simple task,” said Grace. “Over the years that I’ve worked for the police office, I’ve found a single eyewitness to an event will always give misleading testimony, even when that witness is myself. Since I have the responsibility of reporting to Their Highnesses with regards to Twilight Sparkle’s complaints, it would be preferable to have your perspective on the events. Perhaps some middle ground can be found, without involving lawyers, judicial actions, and dismal swamps in distant lands where you can be—” Grace lifted a single sheet of parchment in her magic and squinted at the scribbled letters “—locked up in a prison to be banished to another country where you can be locked up again forever.” “I feel like I should grow an evil mustache to twirl,” groused Emerald. “Unconditional immunity for my testimony?” Grace slid over a piece of parchment, all filled out except for his signature. “To hear the other side of this story? Absolutely. All I ask is that you do not leave out any detail, no matter how small.” Well, she did ask for it. And the longer Emerald was in the police station relating his story, the more he could claim he was being cooperative at any trial. With a little urging from Grace, he started his recitation at the train, because the trip from the frat house to the station had been a little chaotic at best, and he had a unicorn police officer/witness escorting him anyway. Grace seemed interested in his walk around the oak library once he reached Ponyville, so he expounded for a few minutes about his theory on the genus of the Common Library Tree. He could not help but add his thoughts on the young unicorns he had given a little tutoring and how the town was so different from Canterlot. He had just gotten to the evening where he was making a fruit salad, when there was a knocking at the door to the conference room, and a delivery pony came in with oatburgers and hayfries for the both of them. After Grace had paid (with the absolute minimum tip), they spread the food out across the conference room table and dug in. “I have to say,” said Emerald after a quick swallow of oatburger, “that this is the most polite interrogation I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing with the police.” Grace dabbed her lips with a napkin before returning to cutting her oatburger with a knife and fork expertly manipulated in her pale green magic field. “I examined those records in the process of doing your security review. I would hesitate to call them ‘interrogations’ except in the technical aspect of the word. Repeating ‘I want my lawyer’ for several hours makes rather boring reading. The officer only wanted to know which of your fraternity brothers had stolen her hat.” The old container of wake-up juice from this morning was empty, so Emerald dropped it into the trash and picked up the remaining glass of orange soda that had obviously been purchased for him. “In any event, you bought my favorite lunch, we’re talking privately without one of those one-way mirrors, and I have to say this is the most pleasant time I’ve had with a young mare in simply ages.” Grace looked down at the table and seemed to be totally engaged with the precise bisection of her remaining oatburger. “Please, sir. I’m not that young.” That was worth a brief snort on his behalf. “Nonsense. You should have seen some of the old crones my father was trying to set me up with. Well, you probably have, if you were responsible for reviewing my file.” The resulting silence and the light blush along her ears spoke volumes, but it did bring up a thought that rattled around in the back of his head as he continued his testimony after their light lunch. After they cleaned up the table, all that was really left to tell was yesterday’s interrupted preparations for a relaxing evening at the library, but as he wound up his story with the noble train-bound band of brave replacements headed back to Canterlot to cash their checks, Emerald noticed a certain twitching to Grace’s bottom lip again. “I have a few questions,” started Grace once she had gotten control of her concealed giggling. “I did not want to ask this at first, but why are you so forthcoming with me now, as opposed to your previous interactions with the police.” “I was captivated by your smile,” said Emerald. “I don’t smile,” countered Grace, demonstrating the straight face she had been wearing since they met. “Well, I signed that immunity agreement.” “I scarcely think a simple signature explains your cooperation.” “You bought me lunch,” added Emerald. “You were cooperating before I fed you,” said Grace. “I… um… gave some thought to the matter,” said Emerald reluctantly. “Twilight Sparkle is Princess Celestia’s student. If Her Highness got involved… Well, I don’t want to meet her again.” “Again?” Grace got the distracted look his professors managed whenever Emerald was taxing their memories, only since her talent was perfect recall, he suspected he knew exactly what folder she was mentally leafing through, made only more obvious by her next words. “There are no indications in your file that you have ever met with Her Highness. Either of Their Highnesses, in fact.” “It was a long time ago,” offered Emerald. “I suppose I could ask Her Highness when I deliver my report,” mused Grace. “No!” Emerald tried not to fidget and failed. “Look, I was very forthcoming today. Can’t you just leave it at that?” The silence made an effective answer. “I met her just after I got my cutie mark in unicorn education,” he admitted. “I was young, excited, exuberant, and extremely proud of my rump at that moment.” After a moment’s consideration, Grace seemed to accept his excuse without further elaboration and move on. “Before I ask my next question, I just wish to state for the record that I do not see any possibility of you being incarcerated for any of your actions at your assignment. Well, except for one possible action, and I’m beginning to doubt that Twilight Sparkle even noticed.” “One?” Emerald began to rise to his hooves, only to settle back down in his chair at a quelling motion by the policemare. “As a matter of fact, it relates to my first question.” She licked her lips with just the tip of her tongue and cocked her head slightly before continuing. “What would you assume if you returned to your home after a long absence, only to find your caretaker of the opposite sex had prepared a candlelight meal large enough for two, a warm bubblebath, placed a mildly pornographic book on your favorite desk, and dusted herself in fragrant night-blooming crocus, which according to the file is one of Twilight Sparkle’s favorite scents.” Emerald chuckled briefly. “I’d think she was trying to get some— Oh. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no!” “A flirtatious young male from a lesser unicorn house, with a history of feminine matchmaking from his family,” continued Grace without changing her impassive expression or breaking out in laughter as he suspected would happen. “In hindsight, selecting you for the post shows a startling lack of political tact on behalf of the assignment committee. That is unless they were influenced by your father.” “Oh… no,” said Emerald finally and with absolute authority. “That’s not dad’s style. He’s a subtle as a crutch. Mom too.” “In any event,” said Grace, organizing the stack of papers with her magic, “there has not been any kind of averse indication from Her Highness’s student, so either she is lurking in wait for your return with amorous intent, or romantically clueless. I suspect the latter,” she added. “That’s… You don’t seriously think somepony other than my parents was trying to set me up with Twilight Sparkle, do you?” He shuddered with the thought. “I’m starting to think I’ve got a price tag still stuck to my hat, and there’s a sale. It’s just… my parents or the selection committee didn’t put the fruit salad in the icebox, or run a hot bubble bath, or force me to light a candle—” The realization hit him like a brick, or maybe a nightstick considering his surroundings. “Officer Grace,” he started slowly, “how much do you know about the magical abilities of Library Oaks?” “No more than a casual exposure during several classes from my University days and your theories from earlier today,” she responded, although she connected the dots with uncanny speed. “You cannot possibly believe that a magical oak tree might possibly be attempting to ‘pollinate’ its librarian in order to raise a future generation of librarians, right?” “It’s… highly unlikely,” he admitted after due consideration and considerable trepidation. “Librarians tend to be old, dried-up spinsters with a half-dozen cats. And no ‘pollination’ of any sort.” “A future that both Princess Celestia and Twilight Sparkle’s parents would find less than optimal.” Officer Grace left out a brief huff of breath. “As would my parents.” Emerald’s heart nearly stopped again. “Wait a minute,” he started, but the policemare was having none of it. “Your home situation parallels my own in one fashion,” said Officer Grace. Her horn lit up with a faint green corona, the door to their conference room glowed, and the door’s lock engaged with a very final clicking noise, followed by another short stack of papers sliding over to his side of the table in her magic. “It only seems sensible that the solution to our respective troubles be shared in turn. My parents are quite upset that I have not produced an heir to the family yet, and they have engaged in several frustrating and fruitless attempts to match me up with unsuitable suitors.” “A prenuptial agreement,” murmured Emerald as his eyes were drawn to the papers in front of him. “An established, contracted relationship.” The initial burst of energy that Grace had used to get this far into the proposal had faded, but she managed, “It would not need to involve intimacy. There are medical procedures to allow childbirth without that process. I understand it is not uncomfortable, or at least too much.” “Foalbirth or intimacy? Wait a minute!” With the door locked, there was noplace for Emerald to run, and he most certainly was not going to assault a police officer inside a police station. If nothing else, the resulting arrest would be… difficult to explain to his father. And the newspapers would have a field day. Prison or matrimony. There has to be a third choice. “So if I don’t sign,” he began slowly, “I won’t have a defense when Twilight Sparkle comes to the mistaken conclusion that I was trying to seduce her? And if I do sign, you’ll defend your—” he shuddered “—fiancé against the insinuation that I might be unfaithful to you? Because being married to you and in prison would not be very conducive to conception.” “Yes.” His blushing would-be-bride seemed to be finding something on the conference room table to be absolutely fascinating, and had not taken her eyes off it while talking. “Foals can wait a few months, I believe. My family will make arrangements for a proper nanny. You need not concern yourself with their nurturing, other than the occasional visit. Their genetic makeup should be satisfactory, since my family has a great deal of magical control but lacks the thaumic strength and reserves that House Chrysanthemum is noted for. My mother insists on the phrase ‘hybrid vigor’ when discussing her plans for my betrothal. Her selection criteria in that regard has been… lacking, and although you were not on her initial list, I believe I can talk her into it with little effort.” The conversation was falling off the side of Mount Canter and gaining speed. The only brakes he could think of… “Even though I’m an earth pony?” asked Emerald, realizing how stupid it sounded since she was responsible for his security screening, and had to already know despite his hat. “There are several earth ponies in your family tree,” countered Grace. “The fact did not prevent your lineage from producing many powerful unicorns. In fact, it may have been a contributing factor, which only increases your prospective ability to sire powerful unicorn foals.” And there was the crash, the explosion, and fire. So much fire. With a growing regret for the number of times he had casually flirted with one young mare or another, Emerald browsed through the prenuptial agreement and subsequent engagement paperwork. It was perfect, as he suspected everything was that Grace touched. She was a unicorn from an established family, so his parents would be… happy if he signed, he supposed, although each of his siblings would laugh themselves sick. And true to her word, it would remove one of the major foci of his conflicts with his father. While he was thinking, there was a quiet knock at the conference room door, and a pegasus officer stuck his head in. “Grace, we’ve received another letter from the Princess’s student.” He glanced once at Emerald and added, “You’re going to want to see this one.” And that was it. Undoubtedly, Twilight Sparkle had just twigged to the mistaken idea that her creepy criminal replacement had planned some sort of unwanted romantic intervention, and the next thing he would hear was the slamming of a jail cell door. That also spelled the end of his tutoring career, because no parent would dare hire a teacher who had assaulted the Princess’s student, even in theory. Dad would undoubtedly provide a lawyer and support, but even if he only had to serve a year or two sentence, the old stallion would be right there when he got out of jail with a prospective bride and a position at the company, just like he had dreaded every year in college. Breathing out slowly, then taking a deep breath, Emerald asked, “So?” Grace dismissed the other officer before opening the message and reading it. There was only one page, and it did not take her more than a moment before folding it back up and turning to Emerald. “If I were a cruel mare,” she started, “I would demand an answer from you right now.” Emerald licked his dry lips. “In my experience, all mares have a cruel streak in them. Some thicker than others.” After a moment, he added, “You do not strike me as a particularly cruel pony. Neither does Twilight Sparkle.” Dangling the letter in front of him, Grace almost smiled. “Suppose it asks us to transport you back to Ponyville so that you can complete your interrupted romantic interlude?” “I’d suspect a forgery,” he responded instantly. With the short amount of time that Emerald had been exposed to the impassive police officer, he was getting a good handle on how to read her reactions. She was the small-print edition of a mare, written right out to the margins in endless pages of large words and with multiple volumes but no illustrations. The faint flicker of her eyelashes and short snort was the equivalent of loud laughter from any other mare. He took the message when Grace floated it over to him and read it with a growing sense of relief. “The dragon certainly seems to take after his owner, and vice versa,” mused Emerald. “Dear Police Commissioner. Morning mail arrived. Twilight currently sleeping curled up on top of new books. Disregard all previous letters. Sincerely, Spike.” Which only left… Grace. He had to admit to some degree of sympathy with her situation. His own parents had pulled out most of the stops to get him hitched up to an ‘appropriate’ mare, and their qualifications for the position had declined over time. It would even quench their obvious desire for grandfoals, which would take some of their attention off him. And if he wanted any feminine companionship, there did not seem to be any problem with continuing to ‘fool around’ as he had in college. But he found his thoughts turning away from himself. “Grace,” he said slowly, “what kind of social life do you have?” “An adequate one,” she stated in plain, simple words that made him think of late hours at her work with long evenings spent reading books and doing crossword puzzles in an empty apartment. “No, I mean have you ever approached another pony with any kind of romantic intentions?” “Why should I?” replied Grace. “Feelings should be kept out of the workplace.” “Not at work. At a social event. A party. A walk in the park. A date. You’ve been on dates before, right?” A cold lack of response made Emerald press onward. “You can’t expect to win the game if you don’t play. No, wait,” he added. “Life isn’t a game. It’s… everything. My parents had an arranged marriage, and they lived into it. Not perfectly, not even close to what I want out of my own life, but they made it work. Marriages are pain. You give your entire life to somepony else, you live with their pain, you hurt when they hurt. Except for labor,” he added. “My father refused to be in the delivery room for any of us.” Grace did not react to his admittedly disjointed argument. Emerald pushed the unsigned prenuptial agreement back to her. “No. Not because of me, but because of you.” “Me?” Grace looked up with what must have been the first real emotion she had displayed so far, and the tears he could see in the corners of her eyes just tore Emerald’s heart out. “Yes, you.” Emerald got up and scooted his chair around to her side of the table so he could sit beside her, and offered her a kerchief from his vest pocket. “Your special talent means you’ve always been afraid of something bad happening when you open up to some other pony, and having to live with that experience every day forever. So when you researched my background and found out I’m a hopeless squish, you decided to do the first spontaneous thing in your entire life.” He nudged the pile of prenuptial agreement papers. “Of course, you had to plan that too.” With a faint green glow of her field, Grace lifted the kerchief out of his hoof, dabbed her eyes, and sniffed. “Of course. Planning is—” To be honest, Emerald had not planned to dart in close and kiss Grace on the lips. It was spontaneous, it was brief, and it was a lot like kissing his mother, but it made those drooping green eyes open wide, and both of her eyebrows nearly vanish into her short manestyle. “Sometimes, not planning is better,” he managed. It seemed wise to shut up at that point, since he had just technically assaulted a police officer inside of the station. He busied himself with putting papers back into folders, arranging things on the conference table until they were about as arranged as they could be, and then tucking the slightly damp kerchief back into his vest pocket. Once things were put into order, he faced a much more important decision. “A year,” he blurted out. “I will consider your offer seriously in one year, provided…” An idea blossomed, probably something that would get him killed or shackled, but it at least was something. “Provided you accept every offer anypony makes to you during that time to attend any sort of social event with them. That includes dates, parties, concerts, celebrations, or anything of that sort,” he finished. It was a safe condition, since the socially awkward police officer most likely would never— “Agreed,” said Grace. “I shall see you in a year. That will give me an adequate time to interview child care professionals and make other arrangements.” She raised one eyebrow. “Presuming you hold up your end of the bargain.” “I am a stallion of my word,” said Emerald. Despite meaning what he had said, he tried to figure out a way to travel back in time and unspeak those words even while they worked their way back through the building on the way back out onto the Canterlot streets. He was not used to being thwarted. He was a thwart-er. A year from now, he was going to be right back in this police station, facing the same cold fish, getting asked the same matrimonial question. She probably would not have even kissed another stallion by then, because nopony would know to ask… Oh! “Pardon me, everypony!” Jumping up on top of a desk on their way out of the building was probably a little overdoing it, but he had every single police officer’s attention, plus several criminals being processed. “Officer Grace and I made a wager, and she has just agreed to accept every invitation to any social event she is presented with in the next year. For example,” he continued, catching the eye of an officer who was fairly close to the bulletin board, and one announcement he had noticed on the way into the building. “Officer, has anypony ever invited Grace to your blood drive?” “No,” said the police officer hesitantly. “She would never… You made a bet?” “In a way,” admitted Grace. The officer took a moment, then asked, “Grace?” “Yes, I will participate in the blood drive,” she said Emerald could not keep from whistling all the rest of the way back to the frat house, despite upcoming midterms. The school problems he was going to face over the next week were nothing compared to mares, and he had passed this test by a wide margin. By the time Twilight Sparkle was finished reshelving all of her new books, his presence would be a fading memory. And in a year, the prim and proper Officer Grace most certainly would meet some social unicorn who would be just as stuck-up as herself, and the two of them could produce however many stuck-up foals as they wanted together. Best of all, it was a wonderful day for a walk, and he would never have to worry about going back to Ponyville ever again.