Love and Tolerance

by Final_Draft

Confrontation

Love and Tolerance
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic © Hasbro & Lauren Faust
By: TOO S0BER

Oof!

I groaned as I was jostled around unceremoniously, cramped between dozens and dozens of different sized clothes and articles of dirty laundry. Barely any light squeezed through the perforated laundry sack Marcus had stuffed me in. It was a brilliant idea, really it was, I just wished it didn't involve wallowing in the accumulated stink of a week's worth of dirty dirtiness!

I fought back my gag reflex. I need to use stronger detergent, I thought, trying to block the wretched stink from my nose. Hooves made that attempt all but futile.

Oof!

I growled a little, annoying stinkiness forgotten.

When I get out of here I am going to punch you so hard! Threatening silently. I knew he was having his jollies with me in the sack. Hitting every bump, jumping off every stair step, the occasional 'accidental' bump into a wall! I even suspected he was taking the long way through the apartment complex.

“When I get out of here you're gonna get it Marcus!” I fumed, reiterating my threat aloud, just above a whisper. All I received for it was what felt like an elbow that jabbed into my flank. I winced, not enjoying the irony of a pony getting a charlie horse.

Okay, now I'm mad. I was just about to kick in the direction I suspected his back was, but then stopped as figures passed by through the little holes. That, and I heard a soft shushing noise once they were some distance away, if the footsteps were any indication. Despite being cramped in the tiny bag, I crossed by forehooves, feeling the unfairness of not getting revenge right there and then. Damn it.

Despite all this, the plan was working. Through what little gaps in the bag that weren't too obscured to see through, I made out the silhouettes of other people passing by as we made our way through the apartment complex. Not giving a second thought to the dark skinned man carrying what they assumed was his laundry. Eventually I heard the faint honk of a car alarm as Marcus unlocked the door to his SUV. Light disappeared and for a moment, I thought the bag was being stuffed into a trash compactor, the soft smelly walls closing in on me. Breathing became a little bit more difficult, the edge of a claustrophobic panic coming on.

The top of the bag opened up and I poked my head through, breathing deep, desperate for the light!

I noticed Marcus was preoccupied, checking the surroundings for passersby. When he turned his head back in my direction, and came within range, I clopped him on the forehead with a hoof. Not hard enough to cause injury, but hard enough to show this pony was not amused. He reeled back, more in surprise than in pain.

He looked at me in confusion while I stared back in irritation and annoyance. Before saying a word, he looked around once more. The coast must have been clear as he said what I was expecting, “What was that for?”

“For the wall corner, stumbling down the steps, and elbowing me in my ass!” I half-shouted at him, checking off my mental list of his shenanigans. “And I owe you more...” I chuckled, a sardonic smile on my face. “Much more.”

He smirked devilishly, “You mad bro?” I could just imagine the popular pixelated troll-face.

I blew him off, trying to squirm my way out of the crushing laundry bag stuffed down at the foot of the passenger seat, feeling like I was struggling against the maw of a predator plant or something. Failing to dislodge myself, I stared back up at him in defeat. “A little help?” I was not going to ride to Ashley's in a damned laundry bag as cargo! I huffed, “Please?”

I blushed as he reached under my arms and lifted me from the bag, feeling very much like a stuffed animal. Half reflexively, I crossed my hind legs in front of my naked self. He noticed this and rolled his eyes. When I was finally set down on the leather seat, it took a moment to find a comfortable sitting position. Marcus waited patiently and buckled me in. Scrunching my mouth in annoyance and in embarrassment, feeling like I was an errant child being buckled in for the family car trip.

Seconds went by, and Marcus reappeared in the driver's seat. He buckled himself in, but the car didn't start right away. I turned in his direction and met his gaze looking at me above the rim of the dark sunglasses, one eyebrow cocked. In my peripheral vision, two more tenants passed by, but that didn't matter since the vehicle windows were just as tinted as the glasses.

“What?” I asked, a hint of apprehension.

“Are you okay?” Marcus asked genuinely, that big brotherly like voice returning.

I had to think about that for a long minute. In less than a day, I had turned into an equine, discovered I had wings, and even more, I wasn't even the same gender any more. Uh oh, fast breathing again. The bag appeared in front of my face, and I scrunched it to my muzzle, deafened by the rapid crunch of the baggy as it grew and shrank, grew and shrank. A moment later, and the spell was gone, returning to normal. I handed the bag back to him, but did not give an answer; putting on my best ask me that later face.

He paused for a moment longer, concern apparent in his face. Before I could say anything more, the engine roared to life and we pulled out of the parking lot, on our way to Ashley's place.

The first five minutes of the car trip went by in silence with neither of us having much to say. Eventually Marcus broke the ice, in such a way I wasn't completely comfortable with, by quizzing me on what was different being a pony. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I started naming off the obvious stuff first. Height difference, walking on four legs, having a tail, etcetera. He seemed interested when I started to explain how I was picking things up with hooves or my mouth. Both of us got excited when the subject of my wings came up.

“I wonder just how fast you'll be able to go,” Marcus said enthusiastically.

“Yeah!” I replied with a huge grin, watching cars go by us as we drove down the six lane city street. Well, barely. My head only just crested the top of the dash, and therefore the street was cut off from the tops of the cars. Arrugh! Hate being short...

He noticed my downtrodden expression as I tried to peek more over the dash. “Oh, quit being such a miss grumpy pants.” I cringed, at both the reference to my lack of clothing and at being referred to as a 'miss'.

“Watch it mister,” I said, menacingly through a smile. “or you're gonna get bucked so hard.”

At first Marcus took the threat for genuine, after all I did bonk him hard on the head, until he saw my smile. Rolling his eyes, he returned his attention to the road. The way I figured it, this wasn't going to get better real soon, so instead of being a 'miss grumpy pants' as Marcus put it, I'd just try and have some fun with it. After all it could have been worse right?... Right?

And now it got worse.

I thumped up and down in my seat, trying to get a better look over the car's dash at the blue and red strobing lights. We were in a neighborhood with large housing, a detour that was often taken to avoid some rush-hour traffic. The road was partially blocked off by two police cruisers and an ambulance, their warning lights flashing but absent the loud sirens. A trio of men in police uniforms stood guard over the area, looking at the SUV as we approached; Marcus stopped and paused, interested in what was going on. To be honest I was too.

At the moment the guards didn't mind that we were loitering some distance away... at least not yet. The fourth officer, seemingly a higher rank, was consoling a woman sobbing her eyes out. Marcus and I shared a look of concern, briefly considering whether or not we should go out and see if there was anything we could do. And I say 'briefly' when my fluttering wings reminded me I was something else now. I sighed and watched on, Marcus looking at me with... what, pity? I hoped not. Too much pity was a bad thing... and was starting to annoy me.

One man in a paramedic uniform exited the door to a nearby house – presumably belonging to the sobbing woman – dragging a wheeled stretcher with a second man in similar uniform following. The body in the cart was strapped down and had many splotches of red all over it. I squinted, trying to get more details, and my eyes went wide as I found what I was only partially expecting.

The body belonged to a pony.

I could only assume he was a normal pony, as I didn't see any indication of wings or anything else out of the ordinary. I nearly slammed my hoof into my face at the thought of 'normal'. It was easy to tell he was a male, because nearly all of his coat was shaved off, and certain... parts... were clearly visible when he occasionally shook in the stretcher's straps. A crazed look in his big eyes said it all: something, likely the sudden transformation, seemed to have driven him mad; or at least that was my guess. The cuts, while they didn't look life-threatening, were bleeding significantly.

That and I recognized them. Whenever I forgot, or neglected, to shave for a few days and the stubble built up, I usually cut myself a few times on accident with the razor, and was rewarded with that and razor bumps. The small angry red bumps accompanying the crimson slices.

A chill ran up my spine as I formulated what had happened. The used-to-be man woke up late in the day to discover he was a pony creature, and for some reason, being covered in a coat triggered him to frantically shave it off. I assumed the crying, hysterical woman was either a relative or maybe his spouse? There was no way to tell, at least for me anyways.

“Whoa,” Marcus peered over his shades at the sight, clearly taken aback. “Guess not everyone is handling this thing well.” He glanced at me, and I stared back, unaware that my jaw was agape.

“And here I was concerned about being gender-swapped,” I said slowly, realizing that my own problems paled in comparison. At least I wasn't driven crazy. Right? Yet? Scary thought. Thinking something else now!

At that moment one of the officers decided enough was enough. He held out his palm in a commanding 'stop' motion as he headed towards us, one of his companions in blue deciding to follow.

“Uh oh,” Marcus tensed, looking at incredible unease.

“What are you...” I trailed off, my eyes widening in alarm as the last puzzle piece fell into place. “Marcus. Don't. That's the last thing we need. I need.” I pleaded, trying to calm him down. “We haven't done anything wrong.”

For a moment I thought he would ignore me and barrel through the officers and trigger an epic car chase. Seeing the emotions play across his eyes was somewhat... unsettling. Finally, he looked at me, and took his hands off the wheel. I released a breath I didn't know I was holding, greatly relieved.

The officer twirled his hand in a vertical circle, motioning to roll down the windows, his other hand resting on the nine millimeter at his waist. That seemed odd to me, but then I remembered his SUV had fully tinted windows, so their suspicious caution was understandable. Still unnerved me though, the thought of getting shot at, or even shot, was very unpleasant. Were hospital doctors at all familiar with equine anatomy, or would I have to go to a veterinarian? Another complication for another day.

As the officer approached us, the windows rolled down with a faint mechanical purr. He looked like he was about to deliver the classic 'license and registration please' as he poked his head down to the window... and then he saw me. Clearly he was very suspicious and wary of the orange winged pony-thing as his eyes narrowed in my direction. Looking at the other officer, his reaction was very different, gazing at me in shock. If the situation wasn't so tense, I'd make a snide remark like 'what, you never seen a pony before?', or maybe just an irritated 'what?!'. Instead I smiled nervously at him, and he took an involuntary step back, his hand tightening on the nine millimeter.

“Uh huh,” huffed the first officer. “what are you doing with that thing?”

I reeled around and stared at him as though I'd been slapped across the face, and was angry instead of shocked. What was that supposed to mean!? My thoughts bristled. “Excuse me?” My tone said it all. I was not a pleased pony.

He didn't reply to me, and turned his attention back to Marcus, waiting for an answer.

“My friend and I are going to visit another friend,” Marcus wasn't happy with the rude comment either and added, “sir.” stating the truth in all honesty.

The rude cop cocked an eyebrow, and stared at me while I glared daggers back. His gaze drifted down to the laundry bag, looking suspiciously at me again. What was this, stare rudely at innocent bystanders day? Arrugh!

“Step out of the car please,” he stated in his authoritative tone.

Marcus got out, but I hesitated since the SUV was very high set. It was only maybe four feet, but I was no longer a six foot human. I gulped and jumped, landing on all four hooves successfully. I felt the second officer's hands on my back. I jerked away from him, but he looked at me apologetically. I guessed he was trying to steady, or catch, me if I started to fall over. We stared at each other a moment, awkwardness thick.

“Uh,” I said tentatively. “thanks?”

The young officer smiled slightly, “Uh, anytime?” and he backed away a few more steps.

At least one of them has some manners. I thought condescendingly at the other, older cop.

I was partially grateful that it wasn't me, human, and driving as I heard the first cop give Marcus the third degree. Trotting around the side of the car, I watched, extremely annoyed as my friend was subjected to various DUI tests. Like walking the line straight and touching his nose. The second cop had dutifully followed me, and looked on in confusion as his partner ordered Marcus to do this or do that.

“Sir,” the younger officer spoke up finally. “I don't think that that's necessary. I watched them pull up, his driving was fine.” I smiled at him as he came to my friend's defense.

The older cop glared at him, then at me (I glared spears back), ignoring common sense and ordered the, apparently lesser ranked, cop to search the vehicle. He tried once to argue, but the other made it abundantly clear that it was an order.

“Jackass,” I muttered under my breath, through clenched teeth. Marcus smirked at my comment as the cop patted him down.

Uh oh, what if he decided to pat me down? Don't think I could handle that! I tried to hide the growing blush. Well, where the hell could I possibly hide anything? No pants, no shirt, no problem right? My fears materialized for real as he finished with Marcus and gestured for me to brace against the car's body.

Eyes widened, but I didn't let down my glare. I stood my ground, and he gestured with more force, tapping his black polished shoe against the tarmac. My sneer only increased, but decided to cooperate. The sooner this jackass was done the better, but damn it this felt wrong! Rearing up facing the black SUV, I propped myself up. I saw the younger man's face through the open window as he searched the interior, he looked like he wanted to protest, but thought better of it. Quickly I gave him a weak smile before refocusing my glare at his partner.

He started on each foreleg, from hoof to armpit. Then on the hind legs. Despite my best efforts I couldn't ward off the shakes, this was so embarrassing! Worse, I wasn't even completely sure why! Finally, he finished with all my legs and moved on to my torso. There was a long pause. I glanced back at him and he seemed puzzled. Only one guess why: the wings. I could have spread them for him, made it quicker and easier, but he needed to pay for that comment earlier. He looked to me expectantly, and I shrugged.

He huffed as his gaze intensified, and knelt down behind me. I felt a small triumph that my smaller body made things more uncomfortable for h – oh HELLO!

Lightning shot up from my left side as the officer stretched out the appendage, accompanied by a fierce burning blush on my face. My body grew stiffer than petrified wood as muscles felt like they'd seized up. I could only imagine the startled look on my face, the only indication was that it scared the crap out of the younger officer and he bonked his head on the SUV's roof.

I felt... I felt violated somehow.

Before I could rationally calm down, my brain made that connection with furious response, and I lashed out with a rear hoof and struck the officer in the gut out of pure reflex. After that kick, I jumped several feet away, crouched in a wide stance, my head hung dangerously low. An oncoming breeze told me my wings were outstretched and on display, the furious blush remained as I breathed hard in and out, and a tickling sensation on my belly told me my tail had curled underneath. Maintaining that glare at the doubled over cop.

His partner rushed to his side, apparently not hurt after having hard contact with the SUV ceiling. What just happened? He didn't touch me where I thought he did, so what the hell was that? My gaze softened from furious outrage to confused frustration. I glanced at Marcus, who just stood partially in shock. He seemed to guess at my question and simply shrugged. Slowly I backed out of what must have looked like a combat stance and stood as neutral as I could. I didn't glare this time, instead I looked worried. Yes, very very worried.

The older man coughed and wheezed, the wind clearly knocked out of him. I would have smiled and said 'serves you right! What are you doing with that thing indeed!' but at the moment I was too scared at what was likely to happen. The gravity of what happened hitting me: I'd just assaulted an officer of the law!

Slowly the older cop stood up with the assistance of the younger officer. He looked at me while clutching his gut, confusion and anger apparent. I froze as I saw his hand tighten on the handle of his sidearm, only to be stopped by a second hand belonging to his deputy. Sternly, the younger one whispered something into his ear, and a moment later the hand fell away from the pistol. I released breath that I was holding, and caught my legs.

“I... I'm sorry,” I apologized for my assault on him, despite his bastardness. “I didn't mean to hit...” pausing a moment, reconsidering the action I'd taken. “...kick you. I didn't mean to.” My voice tone seemed to confuse him, he must have made the connection about my gender. Sure, I'd spoken to him before, but likely the older cop just ignored me because he was focusing on Marcus back in the car.

The sneer softened ever so slightly, hand still rubbing gut. I soon started to worry whether I'd damaged something, but he seemed fine. The least he'd get would be a (horseshoe?) shaped bruise on his stomach. Inwardly I smiled, outwardly I kept my 'I'm sorry' face. I glanced towards the ambulance and the third officer. He was looking in our direction, hand also on pistol, trying to work out what was happening and whether or not to investigate. I wondered which side of the fence he leaned on; being a jackass like the man I'd just kicked, or being like the more polite younger officer. I could live without finding out.

“Right,” the older man responded, steely gazed instead of scowling. “just keep those to yourself.” he warned.

I smiled weakly, maybe he wasn't that bad?

“Or he could be the most evil soul in all of the police force!” I shouted angrily as the two of us continued down the road.

Back at the neighborhood, before leaving us to our own business, the police officer I'd accidentally bucked in the stomach had given Marcus a speeding ticket. A speeding ticket! How the hell does he get away with that!? How can any decent person justify abusing their position as a means of vengeance? Oh, that's exactly what it was! That snidely, contemptuous, dare I say racist, bastard wanted revenge for me kicking him! Arrugh! I only regretted not having the presence of mind to aim lower.

I sat there, with my forehooves crossing my chest, fuming my cartoonish head off.

Marcus chuckled, and said evenly. “It's no big deal Sam.”

Did I hear that right? No big deal?

“It's a very big deal!” I spat back, emphasizing the last three words, “The bastard refers to me as a that thing. Subjects you, then me, to an unnecessary pat down. Gets what he deserves, and then has the gall to abuse his authority by giving you a damned speeding ticket!” finishing my rant with a frustrated huff, pouting in my seat.

Marcus's lips curled in a frown. He knew I was right, but he was too mild mannered to do anything about it. Sighing, he concentrated on the road.

“Well,” I started. “I'm not letting you pay that ticket.”

I felt the gaze on me, and without meeting it I replied. “I'll pay for it.”

“You can't,” Marcus said half matter-of-factly and a tinge of worry. “that ticket is three hundred dollars!” Noting the twinge in his voice, apparently he didn't want to pay it either. “That's way outside your budget Sam.” he finished with a concrete, “No.”

“You only got that ticket because of me,” pointing a hoof at him. “and because of whatever that reaction was! I'm not letting you pay... literally... for my mistake!” I finalized.

Relief and disappointment washed over me as Marcus seemed to let the subject drop a little too easily. Damn, I really wanted to argue some more to vent. He was right, and at the same time wrong, when he said I couldn't afford it. Right, because most of my paycheck went towards rent, bills, and what was left for gas and food. Wrong, because I did have some savings, a few thousand dollars, but that was it; which was meant for rainy day stuff, like if the tires needed replacing, or a medical bill or something. A three hundred dollar ticket wouldn't bankrupt me, but it would ensure Raman noodle soup as three squares for a month or two.

If I knew him, he'd pay it off as soon as it'd come in the mail, and I would likely forget. Not if a post-it note on my fridge had anything to do about it! I was gonna give him that money, even if I had to hide it in his microwave.

Devious plans aside, Marcus coughed to catch my attention.

I looked at him as he seemed to struggle with something.

A moment later he asked, “Just what was that reaction back there? That didn't look like a forceful hit or painful jab...” he trailed off and waited for an answer, light apprehension in his voice.

I pondered that question for a good while. What was that indeed? Marcus was right. Recalling the events, the older officer had merely examined the feathery wings. Mentally I felt him stretch out one wing to about half its span, and then that feeling came.

It felt a little like an electric shock, yet, not an electric shock. The feeling was definitely not like when I first jabbed the wing with my hoof, that was certainly the equivalent of a limb falling asleep from partially cut off circulation. That I was familiar with, having significant experience. Not recalling an impact, and not having a bruise, I was fairly certain he didn't assault me with a baton or something. When it happened, embarrassment, exploding anger, and mounting fear had washed in succession through my body; hence the kick that was likely of self-defense.

The only word that came to mind was arousal. My eye twitched.

“You know what?” I said finally. “I really don't know.” Then voicing some of my own suspicions and describing what I'd felt. Marcus didn't interrupt, save for the occasional nod or a deceptively bored sounding “Uh, huh.”

As I finished, and we got stopped by a red light, Marcus scrunched his face in concentrated thought. After a few moments, the light still red, his eyes briefly widened and looked at me again.

I knew that look, and groaned. “What now?”

“I think the wings may be...” he paused, again looking for careful words. “more than just wings.”

I blinked, not understanding.

Marcus sighed heavily, suddenly fascinated by the glowing crimson traffic signal, and muttered more to himself than to the pony staring quizzically at him. “How to explain?”

I sat and waited... really, what else could I do as passenger? Suddenly reminded why I hated road trips. The SUV lurched forward as the light changed colors, feeling that momentum once more.

“Well,” again with the word struggling. “the wings likely have strong, complex muscle groups that have tight knit clusters of nerves. These nerves, being in a part of the body that is relatively thin, could be more sensitive to outside stimuli. And, well...” he paused, worrying me more.

“Go on,” I urged. Although I was starting to get bored with the anatomy lesson, I knew this was important, and strained to pay attention.

“Other parts of the body have many groups of nerve endings that cause physical reactions beyond just feeling mildly.” He glanced at me a moment, trying to gauge if I had understood that part. And was rewarded with a sigh, realizing he'd have to explain further. “Certain parts that are considered private.”

Oh... Oh! Okay, that made sense. Kind of.

“So then,” I asked. “why was it so very intense then?”

“If I had to guess, I'd say it's because of the gender change,” go figure. “the female private parts have twice as many nerve endings than the male's.” He explained in doctor's monologue. There'd be no snickering in this medical lecture. “And perhaps that anatomy applies to pegasus wings too.” He theorized. Guess his courses in medicine were paying off.

“So, in a way...”

Marcus suddenly turned into a half scowl, “Don't say it...”

“My wings spread out in that way was a...” I paused, enjoying that half scowl evolve into a full one. “...a wingboner?”

Marcus groaned, probably would have face palmed if he wasn't driving.

“Ha!” I elated. Me: one, Marcus: zero.

Finally we had arrived.

The two story house in the semi-ritsy neighborhood belonged to Ashley's parents, and was her current residence. She had finished college, and now had to contend with paying off student loans; her parents being generous, offered up their home while the debts were paid. It made perfect sense, but wouldn't have worked for me, I liked being on my own too much.

I looked over at Marcus, unbuckling his seatbelt and then mine, a partial look of worry on my face. His own concern reflecting mine; even he wasn't sure what was going on with Ash, or how she'd react to me.

Opening and closing his mouth a couple times, trying to find words of encouragement. Finally, he just shrugged. I couldn't help but smile weakly at the attempt; even though he had come up with nothing, it was the thought that counted. Together we made our way to the white-washed door, black rubber shoes next to twice that number in bare orange hooves.

I tried to shy away to the side, halfway hiding in the bush as Marcus rung the chiming doorbell. A major part of me did not want my, albeit failed and hopeless, crush to see me like this. What would she think? What would she do? Would she scream and shout 'monster' at me? All these and worse thoughts swam through my brain, each trying to bubble up to the surface over one another. Beads of sweat developed on my forehead, turning my coat a slightly darker shade of orange for a few moments. Breathing became a little more difficult and a good bit more rapid.

Instead of shoving the crinkled up bag to my face, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him, he had to kneel to avoid slumping over in an awkward position, he had an 'everything will be fine' look on his face. I smiled despite myself, more at him having to kneel than anything for some odd reason. The gesture worked somewhat, heart rate decreasing and breathing became less stressed, as I exited my rear half from the nearby bush.

Glancing to my left, towards the drive way, I was relieved to see that the red sports car, and the black pick up truck that usually accompanied it, were gone. At least Ashley's parents weren't around to complicate matters.

Pointed orange ear twisted back towards the door, dragging my attention away from the empty drive way. There was a kind of clumsy scratching coming from the other side of the door, the metallic pitter of a dead bolt clacking against wood, followed by faint mutters and curses. A voice that, for the most part, resembled Ashley's own – except different in a way I couldn't quite pin. My head swiveled in time to see the door open...

...and for my eyes to pop and jaw to drop.

Oh my...

Before me stood another equine face that was very different from the one that appeared in the bathroom mirror. This one's coat was a very light gray, almost the light shade of blue. The mane was a decent bit longer than my own, and was for the most part black; the exception being two stripes of green, one a minty green, and the other a dark green that wouldn't be out of place on army camouflage. The mane and tail matched to a tee as far as color, and were very straight, the former partially obscuring the deep, sharp brown eyes of the equine's worried face.

That wasn't what made my jaw punch a hole through the ground though. It was the spiraling, slender, cone-shaped... what, appendage?... that protruded from the head between the eyes. I stared at it, all manners forgotten.

Why were my wings extending?

Marcus seemed to be the first to recover. “A-Ashley?” Marcus stuttered, probably in as much shock as I.

She didn't bother responding to the large human, and eyes danced over the pegasus mare staring at her – more than once the wide brown eyes lingered on the outstretched wings. Her face screwed up slightly in annoyance, like she was trying to think of something, lips moving like they wanted to make words.

Then, the equine's eyes widened as it hit her, jaws dropping in tandem, “S-Sam!?”

I nodded dumbly.

I already knew what fainting felt like, and now I know what it looks like as the equine's eyes rolled up slightly before closing and the limp legs became gravity's play thing.