Sunny Starscout caught her father with his muzzle buried in work as it always was. She leapt upon him, hoisting her head over his shoulder to peer down at whatever it was he was working on. "Daaaaad," she whined, having been there for several seconds--years in filly-time and well past her limits of patience and need for attention.
Argyle snorted, cracked a grin, and reached up to ruffle her mane without looking up. “Yeeeeees, dear?” He shifted his shoulders into a position that, while uncomfortable, meant she wouldn’t slip and fall down behind him.
“I’m boooooreed.” With an over-dramatic sigh, she deflated into his neck and brushed herself up against him, tiny flicking ears tickling his muzzle. She settled her chin onto his shoulder.
“Well, you know it’s almost time for little fillies to be going to bed—“
“But Daaaaad!” interrupted Sunny, “it’s not dark out yet, and I don’t want to go to bed, and I’m not even that tired yet!” Still, she wore her pout all over her features, as if finding out her favourite ice cream flavour had been discontinued.
Argyle laughed jovially and gave his daughter an affectionate pat on the head, smoothing out her wild mane tied into a ponytail that did little to restrain it from flowing in all directions. He never was good at winning this particular battle of wills: his daughter had long since mastered her impenetrable cute face that was the bane of authority everywhere. “Well, I suppose we could snuggle on the sofa with some TV if you get ready for bed right away…” He glanced at the nearby desk clock ticking away. It was later than he’d thought, meaning he’d gotten carried away with his work again. “Did I make dinner yet?”
“Yeeees.” Sunny giggled, used to his work ethic and the antics of his forgetfulness. It had never affected her much: he wasn’t exactly a neglectful father and usually came around in the nick of time. “We had cupcakes for dessert!”
“Didn’t we have cupcakes this morning?” He pondered this, knowing once again Sunny had probably duped him into double cupcakes. He had no one to blame but himself for that oversight. “What about our deal?”
“It’s a deal!” Her cardboard unicorn horn headband slipped off her head and clattered into his work things as she nodded exuberantly. A heap of glitter was knocked loose, dusting his project in impossible to remove micro-plastics that experience told him would never come out.
“Good. Now go wash up, Sunny Bunny. I’ll be on the sofa in a few.”
“Daaaaad!” Sunny narrowed her eyes, “you’re not gonna forget, are you?”
“No—why would you say that?”
Sunny deadpanned and said nothing, letting the silence say all it needed to.
“I guess I do get carried away sometimes, don’t I? But you won’t let me forget, right?” He dipped his head down, leaned into her, and kissed her on the top of the head.
“I won’t!” She chimed, smiling wide, and clambered off him to the ground. She scampered across the room and was up the long staircase faster than he could blink, and the pitter-pattering of hooves on wood upstairs told him she was being true to her word.
Argyle sighed fondly, dusting away some of the errant glitter that had found its way onto his map—fruitless thought that may be—and chuckled to himself. He had, being generous, ten good minutes of silence to do his work before she ran back down the stairs and clambered all over him again. Working with a filly around, let alone one as energetic as his Sunny Bunny, was a constant exercise in patience and yet one he wouldn’t trade for the world.
He went back to his work of mapping out some landmarks of old Equestria and cross-referencing them to the more modern maps from the Maretime Bay town archives, marking down in his notebook the inconsistencies and patterns where they appeared. He was sure this would finally turn some heads at the next town hall if only Phyllis Cloverleaf would listen.
A few moments passed of note-taking and comparing distances with his drafting compass before he became aware of a set of eyes on him. Sure enough, Sunny sat on her haunches near the stairs, glaring at him. He grimaced apologetically. “How long have you—“
“You prooooomised!” Sunny pouted worse than before. It must have been far longer than he’d realized. He got up from his work table and quickly sauntered over to scoop her up.
“I know, and I’m sorry, Sunny Bunny.” He held her to his chest, squeezing lightly. She clung to him, and her disappointment washed away instantaneously. There were few things a good hug couldn’t fix for a sour filly.
“Can I get extra TV time?”
“Well…”
“Just one movie? Pleeeeease?” Sunny leaned back, hooves propped on his chest, staring up at him with pleading wide eyes.
“Okaaaaay.” Argyle conceded, taking her to the sofa where he set her down on a small bundle of blankets. “What will we—“
“Cinderella!”
“Again? But we just watched that movie two nights ago!”
“Pleeeeeaase, Daddy? You promised a movie. And I get to pick!”
Argyle sighed. He wasn’t winning this battle, either, and he knew there wasn’t much point. Seeing his daughter happy was more important than seeing Cinderella for the 84th time, anyhow.
Sunny nestled into Argyle’s side and made herself comfortable the moment he returned from starting the movie. She wiggled and wormed her way under the crook of his foreleg, nuzzling at his side and up toward his chest. Instinctively, he draped the leg around her, pulling her in. She was warm and a little damp from the recent bath—a good indication that she hadn’t been waiting all that long—and immediately became quieted by the film.
She adored these old movies unlike anyone else her age. Even the sensitive and patient Hitch couldn’t sit through one for any length of time before becoming restless and bored. Sunny’s appreciation of what older ponies would consider a ‘classic, was a strong point of pride in Argyle. He shifted on the sofa, curling his hoof a little tighter.
Sunny laid her head across his chest and tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn, covering it with her hoof. She glanced up, hoping her Dad hadn’t seen it, but he was far too tired and observant to miss anything so precious. He pecked her on the head again.
“Sure you don’t want to go to bed?”
“No!” Sunny protested. She squeezed him as if to cling to that spot with no intention of leaving.
Argyle’s hoof began stroking her back slowly and calmly, easing her into a sleepy stillness. She yawned again, this time not hiding it. She buried half her face into his chest fur and peeked out with a single eye to watch the movie she knew well enough to recite word for word.
Ready for sleep himself, Argyle stretched out across the sofa. Sunny moved in front and wiggled her way under his hooves and against his chest, into a tight hug. Silence hung between them, permeated only by the sounds of the TV.
He found the blanket over the back of the sofa and draped it over her, making sure to tuck in all her hooves and keep her bundled tight. She gave a coo of contentment, wiggled once, and went back to watching. Over time she squirmed her way into his neck and closed her eyes.
His hooves kept petting and stroking her back. She had stopped watching, turning away from the television to stay cuddled up against her Dad instead. He should have taken her to bed, he knew, but a moment like this was too precious to waste. With both hooves holding her close he listened to the sound of her heartbeat and gentle snoring. He laid there in the stillness and quiet sounds of the television until long after it was over, cradling his daughter and watching over her. How lucky he was, he thought, to have a filly like her.
Under the warm glow of afternoon sunshine from the open window, Sunny wiped her brow. It had been a long day of dusting and cleaning the Brighthouse, and Izzy's constant chattering and persistent vibrance had not made the task any shorter--not that Sunny would ask for any different. Despite Izzy's energetic nature, she added much-needed fun and high spirits to an otherwise menial task.
Sunny reached to the back of one of the storage closets in the older part of the ground floor that had survived the collapse of the entire tower some time ago. She was focused now on some of the old boxes she hadn't looked at in years. While unsure of what was in most of them, she knew a great deal likely contained her old filly things. She pulled one aside and tugged at the dried old cardboard flaps to peek inside. A few old holiday decorations were packed up against the top, and pulling them out revealed a layer of old movies at the bottom: thick, dusty relics she hadn't seen in almost a decade.
"Oh my gosh!" Sunny blurted out. Izzy's head poked in from around the corner.
"What? More adorable filly clothes?"
"No--better! I haven't seen these in ages!" Sunny reached a hoof in and pulled one at random. She was fully expecting an old classic she hardly remembered. One of her Dad's favourite films, perhaps? Did she even remember what his favourite movies were anymore? She squinted to read the faded cover.
She was staring at none other than the dusty cover of her old favourite, Cinderella, in a vaguely faded and sunbleached case that didn't properly close anymore from constant use. Memories came flooding back of nights dozing on the sofa with her Dad. How many times had she made him watch it? The beginnings of tears were welling in the corners of her eyes as a powerful dose of nostalgia surged through her.
"What is it?" Izzy, now at her side, reached out with a concerned hoof around Sunny's shoulder.
"I...Remember," said Sunny, "I remember this one. I used to watch it with my Dad. That was so long ago. I used to love this movie. I made him watch it so many times." She smiled fondly. Happy memories were racing through her mind. She wiped away a bittersweet tear.
"Sounds really special, Sunny! Maybe we should all watch it together?" Izzy leaned against Sunny, her head brushing against the other mare in a comforting manner. Sunny smiled.
"I'd like that. You making the popcorn?"