//------------------------------//
// Chapter 39 
// Story: Fine Print 
// by Starscribe 
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The restaurant was at once as familiar to Tracy as it was entirely alien. Places like this existed on Earth, where visitors spent more money than he made in a month to indulge in things made in countries he couldn't pronounce. Of course none of them were in Ely, though Vegas had its share.

The Bridle Path was perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking a lower level of the city, with wide widows that took up almost the entire wall and a live pianist filling the restaurant with soft music. Like many in Canterlot she was a unicorn, using the glow of her horn to play an instrument with keys too small to press with a hoof.

He stumbled once on the way to their table, wiping at his face with a wing. They were good for something other than flying after all.

"Something wrong?" Rose slowed, looking back at him. "Are you..."

There were others in the restaurant, just a few small groups like theirs tucked away into the corners. Along with the staff, who watched him with the same concern.

"N-no." He choked it back, putting on a smile for the waiter as they ordered. He couldn't even pronounce anything on the menu, so he just asked for a recommendation, ordering it without question.

"What is it?" Rose asked again as soon as they were alone. "Is it all the unicorns? They're not all bad, just like not every earth pony is a farmer. It's just dumb stereotypes left over from a meaner time."

"Nothing like that," he chuckled, glancing back across the restaurant. "It's stupid, and I'll get over it." You haven't in two years.

"Tell me," Rose urged. "What is it—if we're going to be together, then we have to be honest. It can't be worse than sneaking off in the middle of the night."

"I wasn't sneaking!" But she was right, put that way it did seem absurd. He cleared his throat, avoiding her eyes. "Alright, I'll tell you. But then you have to answer one of my questions."

She hesitated, then nodded. "Fine, Tracy. I don't have any secrets."

"It's not. When I was growing up... my mother taught us all to play piano. I hated it, but my sister was really good. She used to get sheet music from the latest Broadway plays, and fill up the house with it. I..." He wiped his eyes on a napkin, and didn't speak again until he was sure his voice wouldn't crack. "I stayed away from it since the crash. Makes every studying playlist on Spotify completely unlistenable. But... I said it was silly."

Rose didn't laugh. She reached across the table, resting one hoof on his. "I don't know what all that means... but I know what you feel. Sometimes when I'm closing up at the flower stand, Daisy or Lily will come in without saying anything. It's like my parents are still working. I spend all day around the shelves my dad built, I have to dig through Mom's notes looking for suppliers."

"That must hurt," he whispered. "You can't run away, or the thing they built dies because of you."

She shrugged. "Sometimes it does. But more often, it helps. The only thing they loved more than the flower stand was us. Being part of that is good."

Of all the people I could've spent the last few months with, it's someone who lost her family too. There was a little envy there—what Tracy wouldn't give for Robin to still be alive. Instead, he could only be grateful Rose hadn't lost her sisters as well as her parents. He wouldn't wish that pain on anyone.

They fell silent for a time, as their meals finally arrived. They were small portions, which some part of him had been expecting too. His was something he could only vaguely describe as a meat pie, with a savory smell that made him take every bite slowly. "I can see why you wanted to come here," he said, relieved that she'd finally let the subject rest. The piano hadn't stopped, but he could handle it. Now that he was expecting the pain, he could resist it. "This is fantastic."

He looked like an awkward, clumsy fool eating it, compared to the unicorn patrons with their magical levitation. Hadn't Marshall been a unicorn? Lucky. Except that he'd never learned to use it, just like Tracy had almost not learned to fly.

"Yeah," Rose agreed. She said nothing about how silly he looked. Maybe she didn't care. "Wish we could've come here more often, but the prices are... as outrageous as you think they are. Big city unicorns whose families have run Equestria for generations—the people who serve them eat here. It seems frivolous to spend so many bits on food, but... every now and then. For special occasions."

He felt a fresh wave of guilt at the thought. He knew full well how desperate her financial situation could be. He'd walked that edge of collapse himself, only months before. "You've been hiding," he said. Quietly—not confrontationally, he hoped. 

"I've never had a girlfriend I never got to see before. Do you want to... change your mind? Is that what this was?"

"No!" she snapped, loud enough that a few ponies turned to look. They sniffed, then turned up their noses. Tracy could make out some impolite muttering about unsophisticated ponies. But he couldn't care less. Let them talk.

"I've been with bats before," she continued. "So I'm not new to your schedules. Sometimes ponies adapt to be up at night, so they can be together. But I've never been able to do that, thanks to the flower stand. I just assumed if you didn't visit me at the shop, that you... didn't want to be together."

He winced. Of course it would be something like that. Someone who wants to call things off doesn't leave flower arrangements at home and make breakfast before you're even there.

He nodded slowly. "I want to do this right. But I'm new at being a pony. I'm learning as fast as I can, but it's a process. Where I come from, dating someone means spending time with them. It means sharing their interests. The last two times, it ended with moving in together... at her place, since I didn't have one anymore. It does mean all those same things in Equestria, doesn't it?"

Rose laughed weakly. "You're already making progress, Tracy. You're moved in."

This is gonna be so weird if we start sharing a bedroom. It isn't like I'll be able to sleep when she does most of the time, I'll be at work. But just thinking about that made his ears press flat in embarrassment. Tracy felt like a teenager all over again. A lifetime of trial and error to reach some kind of understanding of the opposite sex was all out the window. Much seemed to translate, but not all.

"I guess that's what it means," Rose continued. "Guess we... were kinda already doing it. You've been helping with the flower stand, and I'm here to help you fly."

He shook his head, making a brief, frustrated squeak. Where had that come from? Rose giggled, and he went on, suddenly unable to meet her eyes. "It's a start. But it's not with you, it's for you. I want to be with you. If that means giving up a little sleep, then that's what it takes." And some questionable potion that certainly won't come back to bite me later.

"I'll plan for camping," Rose said. "Nightmare Night is coming up, we could celebrate that together. All the bats I've dated loved Nightmare Night."

"Yes," he said. "Me too. Assuming that's... what I think it is. Also, I believe our next date will be on my side. You promised we'd go after Canterlot." 

She grumbled unhappily, nodding. "Not sure... I'll be much use over there. I've never been an adventurer. I still work at my parents' flower shop, all these years later. You're the one who came to another world and braved all the magical dangers along the way."

I'm the brave one? He hadn't felt very brave at first, hiding in his room and barely talking to anyone. Equestria had been passing him by then. But now... now maybe he was a little braver. He'd asked her out. He was bold enough to learn to fly, and to defend his friends in court. Maybe I can be brave.

"It's not so hard," he finally said. "Just make sure you're wearing lots of clothes when you cross over. On our end, they're... mandatory."

He blushed again, trying desperately to silence his own imagination's projection of that mistake. The appearances of ponies didn't translate in any way he could describe, yet it made the same visceral, physical sense.

"That seems inconvenient," Rose muttered, folding her hooves in dissatisfaction. That displeasure only grew when their bill arrived a few moments later, and she left a pile of bits on the tray. "Wouldn't they get in the way? Being overdressed, I mean. So much more work to clean, so much more expensive to have them for every occasion..."

He shrugged, rising with her to leave the restaurant. Instead of following her, Tracy settled in beside her, close enough to touch. He could only guess whether this was the kind of thing he was even supposed to do for a pony he was dating. But Rose didn’t stop him, and he didn't particularly want to move away again. Her body felt cool compared to his own, with a much slower, plodding heartbeat.

Maybe that was just another bias. She smelled almost as nervous as he felt.

"We take them off when they're in the way," he said, as they left the shop behind. It was still too early for flying lessons, though.

They didn't head for the top of Canterlot and the school. Instead they approached the palace, but not any part of it he'd seen before. There was a much smaller gate down here on the lower levels, one that opened to another section of its spacious garden. 

"Where are we going?" he asked, glancing curiously around at the overgrown statues, and the dry, empty fountains. Canterlot had never seemed like a particularly bustling city, but with tall grass and plenty of leafy hedges, even that noise faded to a distant hum.

"Not many ponies come down here," she answered, leading him up the steps to a vine-covered gazebo. Ancient markings covered the walls, adorning the busts of stuffy-looking ponies watching them from all sides. "I thought we might want a little privacy before your lesson. Maybe you wanted to ask for some help... reviewing. Or something."

She reached one hoof down beside him, holding the book up. How she could do that with a hoof, Tracy couldn't guess. Lots of practice.

He lowered one wing, brushing the book aside so it clattered to the ancient stone floor. He lowered his head towards her, frozen for a second in the shadowy twilight. "How about... Or something?"

He kissed her. It was hardly the most private setting—deserted though it seemed, other ponies might come upon them here at any moment. He was new, clumsy in a body he still didn't fully understand. But Tracy intended more than a chaste peck on the cheek.

Some things didn't need instruction manuals.