Seated in a restaurant on a brisk Saturday morning, Filthy Rich stared out into the rain. A coffee mug, now empty and cold, stood on the edge of his table. Most drank tea, but Rich was a business pony, and he preferred something that could help him shake off the long nights he spent conjuring proposals and filing reports. A newspaper laid in front of him, with a half-finished crossword puzzle displayed on the page. He looked across from him and found himself staring at an empty chair, waiting for its occupant.
He eyed an envelope laying on his table, sticking out just from underneath the newspaper. With a practiced hoof, he slid the envelope out and opened the flap to reveal the letter. Using his mouth he pulled the letter out and set the envelope down with on the table. Dropping the letter into his waiting hooves, he unfolded it and laid it flat on the table. Reading it quickly, he made sure he got the place and time correct, before sighing and tucking the letter back in the envelope.
He turned, and yet again made note of the empty chair across from him. Glancing at his watch, the once pleasant look on his face now faltered. Rich was a pretty easy-going pony by nature, but if there was anything that he hated more than keeping ponies waiting, it was ponies who kept him waiting. In fact, there were a lot of things that Rich didn't like about ponies. He chuckled. He always got mad over the small stuff, which, he supposed, was better than getting furious over the big stuff. Sometimes he wished he were never angry.
Just like her...
A faint smile brightened his face as a feeling in the pit of his stomach set his nerves ablaze and caused his hooves to tingle. He sighed deeply and ran his hoof through his mane, his eyes visibly watery and not from the dirt that he would have liked to pretend just flew into them. Why did she have to go so soon?
Rich shook his head, forcing the thought from his consciousness. He didn’t want to feel sad, now of all times; not if he could help it. He turned back to the window, calling on the rain to occupy him with something else. Like a subject to a cruel deity, he was a slave to his wandering mind. Unfortunately for him, this god wasn't so merciful today. He was in a tug-of-war over his thoughts, and he was sure he just slipped into the mud. He felt a headache coming on.
Through the mist and rain, Rich could make out the silhouette of a tall, silk-white unicorn maneuvering through the weather with an umbrella hovering above her. Rich glanced down at the face on his wrist, casting its mocking glare at him. He was just about to win his staring contest when the door to the cafe was gracefully thrown ajar; the wind tackling it like a bodyguard protecting his charge: the mare with the umbrella.
Feeling that his mane out of place, Rich’s hoof quickly slid over his head, forcing it back into submission. Meanwhile, the mare was finally able to shut the door to the cafe, requiring the assistance of a nearby host to fight back the wind that charged the door like a battering ram. Taking a deep breath, he rose and beckoned her to him, fixing his lips into a friendly smile. She scanned the room a while before finally locating the gesturing stallion and making her way to the table.
A filly lay in bed, luminous under the morning light fighting its way through the curtains. She pulled her blanket over herself, trying to salvage whatever sleep she could manage. The bed was exceptionally warm this morning, a great haven from the cold room beyond the sheets. The filly turned to face away from the window, only to find that she couldn’t move.
She tried sitting up, but to no avail. Why can’t I move? She lifted the blanket to reveal silk-gray and white hair resting on her stomach. She screamed and ripped off the bedding, bathing the filly and the intruder in the morning light. The filly examined the pony in the new light. It was a young filly, like her, with dark-silver skin and braided mane, and a decorative spoon painted on... her…
“Silver Spoon?!” The alert filly cried.
Silver stirred in her sleep, shifting further onto the now irate filly and limiting her movement even more. The filly blushed and mumbled half heartedly. “Silver, get off of me...”
Silver Spoon did no such thing. Instead she subconsciously wrapped her forelegs around the filly’s midsection, resting her head on the filly’s chest. The filly’s body started tingling, though from nerves or loss of blood flow she could not tell which. The room was frigid, as her father always kept the house, but she was perfectly warm under the combination of Silver Spoon and her deep scarlet blush.
The filly tried to gently nudge Silver Spoon awake, but that only resulted in more shifting. Guess she’s a heavy sleeper. The filly sighed and accepted defeat, not wanting to try to force her friend off of her. Usually she would have shoved them off instantly while shouting horrible names on the way down, but something was different this time. Some strange feeling occurred to her that made her think twice about kicking her hind legs into the stomach of the pony on top of her. Perhaps… because she actually liked it.
The filly laid back against against her pillows and tried to relax, letting the warmth of her friend sink into her. Is this what couples feel like? Does this mean I’m a fillyfooler? I mean, do I even like Silver like that? Well, of course I like her, but–
“I love you too, Diamond,” Silver Spoon muttered in her slumber.
The mare took her place across the table from Rich, exchanging greetings with him as she sat. “So,” she began,”what do you do for a living?”
Rich’s easy going grin slowly turned to a skeptical smile. “Well, I’m an entrepreneur mostly. I have tons of business ventures I own and it’s all very boring stuff, really,” he finished, bringing a coffee mug to his lips.
If the mare noticed this change in his facial expression, she didn’t show it. “Interesting…well a stallion such as yourself must do something for fun, least he not keep his sanity.”
Fun. That was something Rich hadn’t thought of in a while. “Well I do have a daughter I take care of. I try to spend as much of my free time with her as possible.” A spark came to his eyes as he spoke, “Yeah, I suppose we have fun together.”
“Oh, you have a daughter?” she asked. “Well, what I mean is–”
“No, that’s quite alright.” He waved a hoof dismissively. “I understand what you mean. Yes she is indeed my daughter. The mother, unfortunately, is... no longer with us.”
“Oh… Oh!” The mare’s eyes widened. “I apologize to have brought up such a… sensitive subject so soon. To be honest, I didn’t even properly introduce myself. I am Fleur De Lis, though most call me Lily.”
“Likewise, I am Filthy Rich. But you may call me Rich,” he responded.
Diamond Tiara almost choked as spit forced its way down her windpipe after a short-lived gasp. What?! she thought, staring at the the sleeping Spoon in front of her.
Silver Spoon, being asleep of course, was unaware of the leakage of a secret she did not know she had. Diamond Tiara almost felt like this was an invasion of Silver’s privacy, although Silver was currently invading Diamond’s personal space, so she figured they were about even.
“No… No Daddy, please...”
Diamond’s ears perked up at the sound of more muttering from Silver Spoon, though it sounded more troubled than her previous revelation. Just as she was considering between waking Silver and listening in, she was again interrupted by the sound of Silver Spoon’s voice.
“Don’t leave me here… I want to stay with you… Father, please stay...”
Silver sounded desperate now. Her voice, though dreary and weak, screeched at its peak. She twitched and thrashed violently. Diamond Tiara couldn’t stand to see it any longer.
“Father… no… Don’t leave me behind...”
That was enough for Diamond Tiara. “Silver Spoon! Wake up!” she shouted, practically shoving her friend back and forth.
“Uhnn… Diamond Tiara? What are you doing in my… Oh...”
Silver Spoon blushed warmly at the intimate position in which she was laying. She removed herself, only to be stayed by a hoof on her shoulder. She looked up at Diamond Tiara, who wore a look of generous concern on her face; a look that Silver Spoon had not seen in a long time.
“Silver… What’s going on with your dad?”