//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 // Story: After a Fashion // by DarkPhoenix //------------------------------// Chapter 3: The Morning After Fancy Pants awoke to the most perplexing combination of smells. There was the smell of something burning, yet it was most curiously mixed with a fruity, citrusy smell. His tired mind tried to figure out what could produce such a scent. The smell only grew in strength, prompting him to sit up in bed. A door being thrown open and hooves galloping down the stairs increased his curiosity. At a more sedate pace than whoever had just gone running downstairs, he got up and left the room. Only once did he look back at his suitcases, still stacked over by the closet. “When in Roam...” he muttered to himself. If nopony around here wore clothes, then neither would he. All the better to blend in. Navigating down the stairs, he could see smoke coming out of the kitchen, as well as hear hushed voices. The door into the room was cracked open, so with a small push of his magic, it swung wide. What he saw caused his eyes to widen. The kitchen could probably be labeled a disaster zone. Pots, pans, and dirty dishes were stacked high in the sink, while the source of the smoke was revealed to be cooking on the stove. Whatever was in that poor pan was unrecognizable now. On the table sat three place settings, which were at least set correctly, he noted. On each plate was a lump of charcoal, and inside each glass was a gray sludge. Sweetie Belle was standing on a step stool over by the stove. It looked like she’d been tending to the... whatever it was in the pan. Now she was arguing with Rarity, waving her hoof around and nearly hitting her sister with the spatula. “Sweetie Belle, what were you thinking?” Rarity was asking. “I just wanted to cook you breakfast. And since Mr. Fancy is here, him too!” Fancy moved over to the table, quietly pulling out a chair and sitting in it, trying to not disturb the sisters. In his experience with mares, when they go into a state like that, the best thing to do was to let them play it out. Trying to insert himself into that conversation would only succeed in having both of them turn their attention upon him. As they argued, he picked up the fork and idly poked the lump on his plate. He tried cracking it open in the hope that it was like an orange, where the bitter exterior held wonderful goodness inside it. Unfortunately, it appeared to be quite solid, the fork not even able to penetrate the outer layer. Dropping the fork, he picked up the glass, tilting it around. Whatever was inside it refused to obey gravity, not even moving when he turned the glass completely upside down. He set the glass upside down on top of the napkin on the table, seeing if it would run down with time. Whatever Sweetie’s talents were, cooking was not among them. Rarity’s voice, louder and directed at him, interrupted his experiment. “Oh, Fancy, I didn’t see you there.” “It’s quite alright. I smelled something cooking and decided to come see what it was.” He poked the lump on his plate once more, this time chipping off a small piece of it. “It’s eggs,” Sweetie said. Eggs? These weren’t eggs, these were something that he’d use to... to... He couldn’t even think of what he’d use these for. Maybe as a weapon against an attacker. “And the drink?” he asked. “Orange juice,” she said proudly. He raised an eyebrow, looking at the upside down glass, whose contents still resolutely defied gravity. How in Equestria could that be classified as orange juice? And furthermore, how does one possibly do that to orange juice? The filly was looking at him expectantly. As he tried to come up with something positive to say about the food, he was saved from answering by Rarity’s magic picking up the plates. Swiftly, she dropped their contents into the trash. The glasses of juice followed, being dropped into the sink, though Fancy felt that trying to wash them was a lost cause. “Sweetie, go upstairs and get ready for the day. Your mane is a mess.” Grumbling about unfairness, the filly trudged out of the kitchen. Fancy could hear her hooves climbing the stairs, until a door slammed shut. Rarity turned towards him, a forced grin on her face. “I’m sorry about that,” she said. “Sweetie tries, she really does, but that filly just cannot cook.” “So I see.” His eyes roamed over the large pile of dirty dishes. Right then and there, he resolved to keep Sweetie out of his kitchen. “Let me make you a proper breakfast.” She opened the fridge with her magic, looking inside. “It would appear that Sweetie used all of the eggs, but I can offer you some fresh fruit.” He nodded. “That sounds good, thank you.” Several fruits flew onto the counter, Rarity grabbing a knife and with swift motions chopping them into pieces. “Coffee or tea?” she asked while slicing. “Tea, please. I usually have at least one cup in the mornings.” She laughed. “As do I. I find it’s the best way to start the day.” Dividing the fruit onto three clean plates, she set them down on the table. Another few minutes, and a steaming mug of tea was set in front of Fancy. “Shall we wait for Sweetie?” he asked. Rarity nodded. “She shouldn’t be more than another moment.” She picked up her tea, blowing on it before taking a sip. “So, how did you sleep?” “Quite nicely, actually. Though for some reason, the quiet got to me. I’m so used to Canterlot and all of the background noise that goes along with it, that it was too quiet last night.” “Yes, I suppose that could be disturbing. Though I’m glad to hear that you did sleep well. I’d feared that the guest room would be inadequate for you.” A smile came to his face. “My dear Rarity, I am a simple stallion of simple tastes. The room is perfect.” “Oh, good,” she replied. Before she could say anything else, Sweetie walked into the room. “Sorry for ruining breakfast, and your kitchen,” she told Rarity. “There, there,” Rarity said. “It’s alright. I may have overreacted. Now come on, join us at the table so we can eat.” The filly hopped up into the empty chair, and together, they started eating. Once more Fancy marveled over the produce. The fruit was so juicy and vibrant. The flavors just burst in his mouth. And those apples... He’d never tasted an apple quite so delicious. They chatted lightly over breakfast, Sweetie telling about what she and her friends had gotten up to yesterday. It was something about crusading and cutie marks. Rarity nodded and asked a few questions while Fancy was too absorbed in his food to pay much attention. “So what are you going to do today, Fancy?” Rarity asked him. He paused, a slice of apple halfway to his mouth. Setting the fork down, he contemplated her question. What was he going to do today? He hadn’t exactly thought about what to do now that he was out here. Getting to Ponyville and Sweetie Belle had been the first, last, and only thing on his list. In hindsight, that wasn’t the smartest thing and he should’ve planned this out more. “Well, as someone who’s never been to Ponyville before, what would you suggest?” She put a hoof to her chin. “Well, I’d offer to show you around town, but I really need to finish an order for a client.” Sweetie got excited. “Ooh! Ooh! The Crusaders can show him around. We can get our tour guide cutie marks.” Rarity looked hesitant. “Erm, yes, I suppose so.” While her muzzle had a reluctant smile on it, her eyes were very clearly saying “No” to Fancy. Fancy turned to Sweetie. “Are you and your friends good tour guides?” The filly nodded. “Of course! We can show you all the cool places around town.” He thought for a moment. Rarity, at this point, was subtly shaking her head. Yet, he really wanted to interact with Sweetie outside of her big sister’s gaze. He needed to see her as she naturally was, not when she was holding back. Getting her amongst her friends would be a good way to accomplish that. “How about this. How about I go out and explore Ponyville by myself this morning. Then, you and your friends meet me somewhere in town where I buy you lunch, and after that you can be my tour guides. Does that sound good?” Sweetie’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Cutie Mark Crusader Tour Guides!” she exclaimed. “Okay Mr. Fancy, meet us at the library at noon. You can’t miss it, it’s the giant tree byt the market.” Before another word could be said, she’d leaped off her chair and ran out of the kitchen. There was the sound of what Fancy could only assume was the front door opening and closing. He chuckled at her exuberance. She was certainly full of spirit. As he caught sight of the look of pity that Rarity was giving him, his chuckle died out. Rarity looked like he had just agreed to his own funeral. Which was odd, considering it would just be a few fillies walking him around town. What could possibly be wrong with that? But her look was making him think that he’d just walked into a trap. “What? Did I do something wrong?” he asked. “No,” she said. “It’s just that Sweetie and her friends have a bit of a reputation. You see, they try hard, but things just sort of... go wrong around them.” “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think it is.” She didn’t believe him, that much was obvious. But it was too late now to back out. Not that he wanted to, anyway. He gazed over at the massive stack of dishes. “Do you need any help cleaning up?” “No, thank you though. I’m used to Sweetie’s messes. No, you go on ahead and enjoy Ponyville.” Fancy got up from the table, leaving the kitchen. He headed upstairs, stopping off in the bathroom to make sure that he was presentable. He may not be wearing clothes, but that wouldn’t stop him from at least making his mane and tail look good. After several minutes spent with a brush he felt satisfied with his look. Another brief stop in his room, and he had a bag of bits securely tucked away in his mane. Finally ready to face the town, he headed down the stairs. The sounds of clinking dishes and running water could be heard from the kitchen. “I’m heading out, Rarity!” he called. There wasn’t an answer, so he shrugged and left the Boutique. Outside, the sun was shining and only a few scattered clouds lazily floated through the sky. The weather pegasi had done a good job. It felt odd to him, not wearing any clothes. This was the first time in a long time that he’d been outside ‘in the nude’ so to speak. There were a few other ponies that he could see. None of them were wearing clothes, so hopefully he’d blend in a bit better. Maybe it was just him being conceited, but his clothes played an important part in his image. He inhaled, taking in the fresh Ponyville air. It was so clean, so crisp. It was nothing like the Canterlot air. Canterlot always smelled of a vast conglomerate of ponies. Ponyville somehow smelled of fresh grass and trees. It was just after nine in the morning, which gave him less than three hours before he was to meet Sweetie and her friends. Ponyville wasn’t that large, so hopefully he could see most of the town. As nice as Sweetie and her friends could be, fillies couldn’t possibly make the best tour guides. He left Rarity’s home at a slow walk. From yesterday, he knew what direction to take to head deeper into town. The train station was towards the center of town, so by retracing his steps, he’d find places to explore. Even at a walking pace, Ponyville could be crossed in half an hour. So within fifteen minutes, he’d made it to the town square. In the center of the square was a fountain. Surrounding it was the market, with many stalls set up for local growers to sell their wares. Curious, he idly browsed the market. There were stalls selling almost every type of produce imaginable, fresh from the fields. Unlike Canterlot, where the ponies selling produce had some sort of money related cutie mark, these ponies had a cutie mark related to the item they were selling. There was a tan mare with an orange mane selling carrots, and a rather familiar orange mare with a blond mane selling apples. Fancy paused for a moment. He knew the apple mare was one of Rarity’s friends, though he was having trouble remembering her name. It was something to do with apples... Applejack! The only contact that Applejack had with him was when she invaded his garden party, so there was a strong chance she wouldn’t even remember him. And even if she did, she was one of Rarity’s friends, so she could be trusted. Most likely. Unfortunately, it would seem that pausing in the middle of a market, and not browsing a stall, is a great way to draw attention to oneself. He looked around, seeing ponies staring at him. Giving a sheepish laugh, he started walking again. Applejack was giving him a suspicious look. No, suspicious isn’t quite the right word. It was that look of a pony who knew somepony, but was trying to figure out how she knew that pony. The last thing he wanted was his name being shouted across the market, so he put a smile on his face and trotted over to her. “Good morning,” he greeted her. “Mornin’” she said, her curious drawl invading his ears. “You look familiar...” He leaned in close. “That’s because we’ve met before. You and your friends came to my garden party in Canterlot.” Eyes going wide, she leaned her head back, her ears twitching in surprise. “Fancy Pants?” “Indeed.” “What brings you to Ponyville?” He looked around, eyes darting about the market. “I had some... domestic troubles and now every gossip rag from Canterlot to Manehatten is hounding me.” Applejack waved to some pony that Fancy couldn’t see. “I see. I don’t rightly pay attention to that sorta thing, but I’m sorry to hear about your troubles.” “What’s done is done. As for why I’m here, Rarity was kind enough to open her home to me as a hideout of sorts. At least until some new story catches their attention and I can go back home.” A smile appeared on Applejack’s face. “Well, that’s mighty nice of her.” She plucked an apple from her cart. “So then, welcome to Ponyville. I run Sweet Apple Acres to the west of town.” She held the apple out to him. “As a first time visitor, you get a free sample.” “Oh, no, I couldn’t.” He shook his head. “Sure you can.” She gave the apple a toss towards him. He reacted, catching the fruit before it could hit the ground. With Applejack looking on expectantly, he had no choice but to take a bite out of the apple. As soon as his lips closed around the fruit, the fresh juices exploded flavor into his mouth. It was sweet, but crisp at the same time. As he chewed, he could only think that is the single best apple he’d ever tasted. Applejack smiled, watching his face as he ate. No sooner had he swallowed the first bite, did he take another. She chuckled. “Be sure and stop by my stall while you’re here. Or at least before you leave.” His mouth full of delicious apple, he could only nod. “Oh, and don’t be worrying about ponies ‘round here yapping to the papers about you. We’re a friendly folk, but we respect a pony’s privacy.” She hooked a foreleg around his neck, drawing him close. With her other foreleg, she gestured around her at the town. “So there ain’t no need to hide yourself away in Rarity’s Boutique. Feel free to get out here and enjoy what Ponyville has to offer.” This mare was surprisingly strong. “Right,” he managed to choke out. When she let him go, he gasped for air, rubbing his neck which had become sore. “Say, you’ve never been here before. How’s about a tour? I’m sure that I can find somepony to give you one.” Still rubbing his neck, he looked up at her. “Actually, I’ve already got one scheduled this afternoon.” “Really? Rarity gonna get out of her shop and show you around?” He shook his head. “No, actually. Sweetie Belle and her friends, the... Crusaders, have volunteered.” As soon as he mentioned the Crusaders, Applejack’s eyes narrowed. “My sister’s one of Sweetie’s friends.” “Oh, well I assure you that I’ll take the utmost responsibility with them.” She continued to stare at him, before sighing. “Just don’t let them get you into trouble.” Fancy was confused. Why would she think that little filles would get him into trouble? “Shouldn’t— Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” he asked. Her only response was the just look at him. It was the same look that Rarity was giving him after he agreed to Sweetie’s suggestion. It was almost like she... pitied him. He hadn’t thought much of it with Rarity, but now that Applejack was giving him the same look, he was beginning to suspect that there was more to this “Crusading” business than they were letting on. Though what it could possibly be, he had no idea. “Um, yes. Well, I best be off. I felt like exploring Ponyville a bit on my own first, then getting the guided tour.” He left unsaid that it was because he thought that fillies couldn’t possibly make good tour guides, and that he’d probably learn more on his own. Then again, getting a tour wasn’t why he had agreed to watch Sweetie. Not that Applejack, or anypony, would ever know his true intentions. Applejack was still giving him that look when he walked away. Whatever it was about the Crusaders he was missing, he’d find out soon. Until then, he wasn’t going to let it bother him. For such a small town, Ponyville certainly had an expansive market. There were stalls selling all kinds of produce, which made sense; this was a farming town, so there would be a lot of different types of produce grown here. He wandered the market for the better part of an hour. More than one merchant gave him a free sample, which he quickly learned to just smile and take it. They seemed to take it personally when he refused, or even worse, offered to pay for it. Everything he ate was so fresh, so wonderful. Ever the business pony, he was already trying to think of ways to capitalize on these many different products. Would it be possible to export to Canterlot or other cities, but still maintain that “fresh from the fields” quality? He could look into preservation spells, depending on whether or not hiring unicorns to perform them was cost effective. Would the spell have to be renewed en route? If so, then he’d have to pay even more unicorns to accompany the product. Thoughts of opening a side business dealing with the export of produce from Ponyville filled his mind. A quick glance up at the clock tower told him that it was 11:00. He had an hour to go until he had to meet Sweetie, and her friends. Already he’d spotted the library. It was indeed a giant tree, though why it was a tree, he had no idea. Was it some metaphor because books are made of paper which comes from trees? The market was exhausted; he’d explored all of it. What else was he to do to pass an hours worth of time? Glancing around, he couldn’t deduce whether Ponyville had a High Street, so wandering that was out of the question. Shrugging, he picked one side of the town square and started walking. The entire square was lined with shops, restaurants, and even a club or two. He window shopped, browsing the wares offered by each store. There were even things here that weren’t available in the market. Prices in Ponyville were generally lower than Canterlot. Most of the items on sale had that hoofmade, small-town quality to them. Fancy knew of a few ponies who made a fortune buying up stock in towns like this and exporting them to larger cities, reselling them at triple their value. Ponies with more money than sense would happily pay that price. He passed by one building that was obviously a nightclub. Since it wasn’t even lunch yet, it was closed, though what drew his attention was the ridiculous name it had. “Vinyl’s Scratch: The Wub Hub,” he said aloud. Whoever owned this either had a unique sense of humor, or was drunk when they named it. He had managed to circle the entire square, ducking into some shops to further browse their wares, by the time the clock showed that it was nearly noon. If he was going to be on time, punctuality being something he prided himself on, he needed to head for the library now. Fortunately, he wasn’t too far away, nor did he have to wind his way across the entire square. As he walked, several ponies waved a greeting to him, something that had been happening all morning. The ponies who lived here certainly were friendly. Even though both Rarity and Applejack had warned him about it, it was still odd to see. In Canterlot, most ponies were too absorbed in themselves to even notice anypony else, their noses firmly turned up in the air. In Ponyville, ponies were chatting with each other, exchanging greetings and generally being amicable and neighborly. It was at the same time refreshing to see and completely foreign to Fancy, an interesting little dichotomy. It was precisely when the clock was striking noon that he arrived at the library. Looking around, he couldn’t see Sweetie anywhere. He added another note to his mental list to impart upon her the importance of being where you say you will, at the time you say you’ll be there. With nothing else to do, he sat down in the grass outside the library. A gentle breeze was blowing through the town, ruffling his mane and tail. It carried with it the fresh scent of Ponyville and the sounds of the market in full swing. This really was an idyllic town. He could see why ponies enjoyed living here. As much as he didn’t like Canterlot, that was his home. Ponyville would be a great place to visit every so often, but he couldn’t see himself living here. No, he’d come into this town, take what he wanted, and leave. Speaking of taking what he wanted, a familiar voice was calling out his name. He looked over to see Sweetie Belle, along with two other fillies, running towards him. With a sigh, he put a smile on his face. He’d been trying to not have his name shouted all over the square. “Good afternoon, Sweetie Belle,” he greeted. Making a show of glancing at the clock, he continued. “You’re late.” Her ears flattened. “Sorry. It’s Applebloom’s fault.” The yellow pony with a large red bow spoke up. “Is not. We had to wait for Scootaloo to get her scooter out of the tree.” “It’s fine,” Fancy interrupted them before an argument could start. He waited a moment, before giving Sweetie a cue. “So, who are your friends?” “Oh, right.” She pointed to the yellow earth pony. “This is Applebloom.” Her hoof swung around to the orange pegasus. “And this is Scootaloo.” “I’m Fancy Pants,” he said, holding out his hoof. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Applebloom grasped his hoof, giving him a rather vigorous shake. Scootaloo hesitated, before placing her hoof in his. He smiled at the fillies. “So, I’ve been told that you three can show me around town.” They nodded, eager smiles adorning their muzzles. “Uh huh,” Scootaloo said. “Well then, why don’t we start with somewhere to eat lunch. My treat.” This would be good. Now he could spend an entire afternoon with Sweetie and really get a good look at her. She would be much more loose, more her true self around her friends and without Rarity being around. He could get a good gauge of just what he had to work with. If he had to suffer through a few hours of her friends, it couldn’t possibly be that bad. The three fillies simultaneously took in deep breaths. Fancy narrowed his eyes, wondering just what they were doing. “Cutie Mark Crusader Tour Guides!” they shouted at the top of their lungs, jumping in the air and hoof bumping each other. Fancy’s ears flattened to his skull, trying to block out the noise. While their exuberance for something so mundane was to be commended, their volume was not. Ponies all around were stopping and staring. As the fillies chatted amongst themselves about where to eat, Fancy got the slight impression that he may regret agreeing to doing this after all.