//------------------------------// // Chapter 50 // Story: Fine Print // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Tracy didn't quite fly his old car home—as much because of the potential legal dangers as the mechanical weaknesses of the old Civic. Accelerating towards the triple digits began a rattling sound that vibrated through the engines into his hand, making it quite clear just how dissatisfied the car was with his eagerness to show off. He did take the promised detour to the grocer before stopping at home, both out of personal eagerness to grab a few real mangos, as well as a desire to let Rose see the variety for herself. After the drama with the octopus enclosure, he couldn't help but feel like he'd failed somehow. Even if she'd confirmed her willingness to come back, he couldn't shake the feeling that at least part of the night would leave a negative impression.  He was right about the supermarket, though he made sure to keep them in the produce section. God help him if she noticed the dark butcher's station in the back, and checked to see what was in the freezer. She said she was okay with omnivores, but she still looked afraid. But Rose wasn't taking Everwake, and between the time difference and how long they'd been back, she was starting to wear down. She fought it, filling their cart with a sampling of mostly vegetables that Tracy couldn't even name. "I don't know how many salads we can eat," he said, as they finally reached the front of the checkout. The cashier had to enter a code for each one. "Salad isn't a dish, it's a category," she said flatly. Whatever the alien tolerance for alcohol might truly be, she sounded entirely sober now.  "This is amazing, Tracy! I've never seen so many things in the same season before! How can you have spring berries and winter squash at the same time?" The cashier was an older man, a pair of cracked glasses barely clinging to his long nose. He rolled his eyes, but didn't comment, just kept entering codes as he packed Tracy’s reusable bags with fresh food. "Infrastructure," he said, quietly. If there was one thing he'd learned about the differences between ponies and people, it was that ponies didn't really have a concept of "private" trips. Or at least Roseluck didn't. "Only the stuff from the green section was grown near here. Everything else came from far away. The citrus from Florida, those berries probably from Australia at this time of year. Bananas came from South America, apples from Washington..." Rose's eyes widened with each word, like he'd just spoken the incantation to a spell. "And it can get here so quickly because of... cars, like yours?" "You Amish or something, lady?" the cashier asked. "You sure it's okay to be out of your commune?" Tracy stepped between her and the speaker, fiddling with his card. "She's from a very small town," he said, before Roseluck had the chance to answer.  Soon enough they were back outside, loading more produce than Tracy had bought in a year carefully into the backseat of the car.  "Getting it is only a few petals," Rose said, snapping the door closed. "We'll have to see how much of that is good. The farm your food comes from can be as important as the plant. But if even some of that is good... can we shop from your side more often? Strawberries in the middle of fall!" He shrugged. A few months ago, he probably would've wanted to know how the budgeting side would work if he had to buy most of their food with human currency. But seeing her smile like that—Tracy found he didn't care, so long as she went shopping with him. "Sure," he said. "But it might be hit and miss sometimes. The local farms only grow what's in season, same as anywhere. But the store will source the rest from far away. It might come from somewhere different in later weeks. I never really thought so much about my food, to be honest. But I rarely got more than some fruit from there anyway." By the time they made it back into Equestria, the sun was well advanced towards afternoon, staining the windows deep orange. Tracy wanted to be more help bringing everything back inside, but mostly he just carried a single armfull at a time.  Rose yawned as they brought the last of the bags into the kitchen, and she went through the produce with near-mechanical precision. Lots went into the fridge, and others to store dry in various boxes and bowls in the kitchen. However power worked in Equestria, it was scarce enough that their fridge was more like an old-style icebox, save that there wasn't anywhere to replace the ice. Rose yawned wide, resting one hoof on the stuffed shark on their kitchen table. True to Tracy's fears, it hadn't changed when they brought it through the Worldgate, meaning it was about as long as he was, and now so heavy it was more like furniture than a toy. "Spark, was this whole thing a ploy to make me a bat? Feels like I should've been asleep hours ago." Tracy twitched once as he heard the name, other thoughts forgotten. "Spark. The hospital nickname?" Rose shrugged absently. "I don't have to use it if you don't want me to. At least I'm not wilting the pronunciation each time I try." He watched her, thoughtful. When the hospital did it, he'd been convinced Discord himself was responsible, providing either the records or the intimidation to make the staff think he was an ordinary pony. But with Rose... maybe he could forgive her using another name.  It did fit. "I guess it's fine. I might've tried harder to adopt a local alias when I moved in, but... I was still furious with Discord for tricking me. Guess I'm coming around on that now." Rose met his eyes for a long moment, then gestured at the shark. "Help me get this upstairs? Cute as it is, I don't know if I want to show it off to houseguests. I can think of a place for it in my room." "Sure. Don't have both hooves, but I'll try." As it turned out, he didn't have to do much. Rose helped him balance it on his back, then Tracy clambered sideways up the steps ahead of her, with the stuffed shark between them. But with Rose on the bottom, she was the one dealing with most of the weight. The most Tracy had to do was open her door with a wing, and stop just inside. "Where did you want it?" "Next to the bed." Rose gestured with one hoof, somehow keeping balance as she did so. "See those other stuffed creatures? We've just brought them a new princess." It wasn't like this was Tracy's first time into Rose's bedroom. He'd seen her handful of stuffed toys before. There wasn't a scrap of clothing out of place, not a single horticulture book off the shelf. Even the bed was perfect, its sheets partway opened on one side. The whole place smelled like Rose, a mix he would've affectionately described as a fusion of a well-loved flowerbed and an incredibly attractive young woman.  "That's fine, right there!" Rose said. She dropped her end, and suddenly the weight against his shoulders increased. He grunted, but managed to roll to one side, letting the shark flop atop the pile beside a few different foxes and cats. Nothing with hooves, curiously.  By the time he straightened, Rose was less than an inch from him, one hoof on his chest. "Hey, Tracy." She pronounced it correctly that time. "I think we both know how this night should end. Or... maybe start?" She slid past him, yanking a curtain across the window, plunging them into gloom. Tracy's eyes adjusted in an instant. But that wasn't hard, when the hallway behind them still spilled in a single ray of yellow light. "You didn't need my help," he whispered, pawing at the shark with one hoof. "You've carried me up those steps without breaking a sweat." "And the intrepid stallion solves the mystery." Rose slid past him, kicking the bedroom door shut. Now there was only the glow coming in from the Equestrian side. His eyes widened, adjusting rapidly. "I've been so patient with you. I did everything you asked." She stopped beside him, nudging a wing with her mouth. It twitched and opened involuntarily, brushing along her back. "Now you're going to do who I ask." "My leg," he stammered. But even he couldn't manage to make the excuse seem legitimate. "Not sure if I can even get these clothes off without help." "I don't mind," she whispered from just beside him. "I can help with that." Tracy had maybe ten seconds to reach the door. But his hooves didn't budge. He didn't want to get away. He didn't want to sleep alone anymore.  As it turned out, Rose could help with that. And quite a lot of other things while she was at it. Tracy wasn't sure exactly how long they were together, that first time. Long enough that the sunlight faded from under the curtains, plunging them together into near-darkness. He probably wouldn't have slept at all, except for the Everwake. At that point, his own desires ceased to matter, and he slept. Soundly, beside someone he cared about. Tracy woke to distant sunlight, shining across a distant hall. The world came back to him slowly, and what he saw didn't make sense. Since when was his bed so huge, why were there stuffed toys on the floor, who untucked all the sheets? He yawned, twisting to one side, and finally sat up. The scent of it hit him all at once, practically reliving the night before in a few passionate seconds.  The light he saw was coming from his windows. It was just that his window was on the opposite side of the hall, through two open doors. He was in Rose's bed. Rose herself was nowhere to be seen, though the wreckage of both their outfits was still scattered on the floor. Shit. I slept with an alien. He tried to roll out of bed, then discovered just how many different ways he was sore.  Knows I have hollow bones she says. Go easy on me she says. He limped out the bedroom more than walked, finding his broken leg hurt less than everything else. But despite the pain, he found himself smiling all the way to the bathroom. How much of that was afterglow, and how much the manic fear of someone who had just Captain Kirked a quadruped, he couldn't yet say. What the hell am I thinking? Tracy stared into the bathroom mirror. He looked dreadful—mane disheveled, restraint strap torn, and wings half splayed with residual soreness. Shouldn't I feel guilty about that? Shouldn't I regret it? If he'd seen Rose's picture a year ago, he would've been repulsed by the suggestion of what he'd just done. That was the correct reaction, wasn't it? That version of himself might still exist, if he crossed back into his world and became human again. But as long as she came with him... his dumb arm couldn't heal fast enough. "You alive up there?" came Rose's voice, echoing up the stairs. She appeared in the bathroom doorway a second later, grinning at him. Where he looked like he'd been run over, Rose smelled like sunshine, and her mane was perfectly styled. Tracy turned from his scathing reflection, and kissed his girlfriend, passion replacing the nervous shyness of the day before. "I'm working on an early breakfast downstairs," she whispered when they broke apart. They didn't stay far apart, though. "Midnight snack, maybe. It's a process." "Process of..." he trailed off, lost in the scent of her. "What?" She giggled. "Clean up, bat. It's daytime on your side. Don't you have work or something?" The blissful glow in his brain faded to the background, replaced with a surge of panic. "Buck me." He had two weeks of work to do in the next four days. "Maybe after breakfast," she said, leaving him alone with his reflection.