//------------------------------//
// Confrontation 
// Story: The Stallion in the Library 
// by leonidas701 
//------------------------------//

        “Can I see your ID?” Trixie asked the light blue mare.

        “Certainly. Here.”

        “Thank you.” The light blue mare, Colgate, had just gotten out of her appointment with Card, and Trixie was checking over her insurance to make sure it covered it. By this point Trixie had been working for Card for two months, and she could go through the necessary motions in her sleep so her mind was free to linger on the point it had been stuck at for the last few hours, ever since last night.

        I have to tell him, it’s only fair, she thought. Yes, that does it. As soon as this mare is gone, I’m telling him.

        “Okay, everything checks out.” Trixie hoofed Colgate's insurance card and ID back to her, along with a receipt. “Good-bye.”

        “Good-bye. Thank you, doctor,” Colgate said to Card as she left.

        “No problem. See you next week.” And with that, Card shut the door behind her. He turned to face Trixie.

        “We only have an hour for lunch, let’s get it delivered. I say pizza,” Card said as he walked over to her desk, sitting down across from her.

        “I’m gay,” Trixie blurted out.

        “So, what do you want?” Card asked as he picked up the phone.

        Maybe he didn’t hear me? Trixie thought. “I’m a lesbian. I-I like mares,” she said, a bit louder this time.

        “You know, I don’t think it’s legal to order those. And I know it’s illegal to eat them,” Card said. “Maybe a sandwich,” he mused.

        Trixie had known she was a lesbian for a good few years, since she was a teenager. While she had long since come to terms with her own sexuality, she still hesitated in telling other ponies, largely because they all had such huge reactions to it. Some were congratulatory, some were a bit uncomfortable around her afterwards, and a couple ponies flat out cut all ties with her, but they all had some kind of reaction, good or bad. But apathy? That was a new one.

        “No, no pizza’s fine,” she said, a bit distracted by this unexpected turn of events.

        Card dialed up the pizza parlor and just ordered the usual, half triple layer four cheese for him, and half mega combo for Trixie, along with a couple cans of root beer.

        Once he got off the phone, Trixie asked him, “Doesn’t it bother you?” but what she meant was, “Don’t you care?”

        Card raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Why? I wasn’t planning on sleeping with you.”

        Oh, well I guess that ma- Hey! Trixie thought. “What’s that supposed to mean? Am I not good enough for you?” she asked in mock seriousness.

        “Eeehhh.” Card looked her up and down. “You’re not my type,” he said with a smirk.

        “What! Look at this!” Trixie said, still in the same joking tone, as she ran her hooves along her body. “How could you not want this?”

        Card just let out a small chuckle, “Pizza will be here in 30. You wanna go shoot some pool?”

        “Yeah, sure.” Trixie and Card went into his office and over to the pool table, where Card always kept the balls racked up and ready for play.

        “You really need to repaint these walls,” Trixie said, as she always did whenever she went into Card’s office. “Just plain white, not even any pictures or posters or anything. It’s so… boring.”

        Card ignored her, instead picking up his cue and asking her if she wanted to break. Trixie said yes, and the game began.

        After a few shots, Trixie’s mind wandered back to what he said earlier. “So, who is your type?” she asked as Card lined up his shot.

        “Not telling.” Card hit the cue ball away from any of his scores. “Your turn.”

        “Why did you do tha- Oh you bastard.” Card had managed to position the cue ball in such a way that Trixie would either have to risk knocking one of his balls in or hitting the eight-ball in by accident. She chose to knock his 10-ball in, all the while glaring at Card’s smirk.

        “What about Twilight?” Trixie asked, bringing the subject back. “Is she your type?”

        “Nah. Studious schoolfilly doesn’t really do it for me,” Card said. “And there’s something about her haircut that just bugs me. Dammit, missed.” Card straightened up.“Your turn.”

        “Hmm…” Trixie lined up her shot, “What about, say, Rarity? Classy, mature, takes care of herself.” Trixie knocked the 4-ball in. She gave mini-hoof pump and starting looking for her next shot.

        “Too much makeup, too much of a drama queen,” Card said. 

        “Rainbow Dash? Sporty, playful, focused- Which I really should be right now, shit.” Trixie had just scratched the cue ball.

        “That’s what you get.” Card retrieved the cue ball. “Anyways, Rainy seems like she would be a pain to date. With how self-centered she is, every disagreement would become a huge argument. I know a few guys who like that, but I’m not one of them.” Card put down the cue ball in a place where he could sink both the 12 and 15-balls, and started chalking up his cue.

        “Wait, what?” Trixie asked, confused. “Who’s talking about relationships? I’m asking who you would like to bang. You know, one night stand.”

        “Oh.” Card took his shot, but messed up the rebound and missed the 15. “Well then I can make it easier on you. I don’t like one night stands, and honestly I don’t really care about just sex.”

        Trixie cocked her head to the side and let out a confused sound, followed by, “What do you mean?”

        “I just don’t think it’s that great.” Card missed the 15 again. “Your turn.”

        “You just said you have a type.”

        “There are certain traits I enjoy more than others. Now make your move.”

        Trixie tried, but was so distracted by this that she completely missed. Trying desperately to refocus herself, she picked up where she left off. “Fine then, what about Jackie? She’s tough, sweet, fair, honest, hard-working, compassionate, and smoking hot.”

        “Did something happen between you two?” Card asked as he lined up his shot with the 14-ball.

        “I asked her out,” Trixie admitted.

        “How’d that go?” He took the shot, and sunk it. “C’mon Trixie, step it up. I’ve only got two left and you still have five.”

        “Yeah, yeah, rub it in,” Trixie mumbled, before going to back to Applejack. “She turned me down. Said she wasn’t looking for a relationship.”

        “Ah.”

        “Yeah. And also, she’s straight.”

        Card clicked his tongue sympathetically. “Sucks.”

        “Nah, it happens,” Trixie said. “I’m used to it. But we weren’t talking about me, what do you think of Jackie?”

        “She’s okay. Little too serious for my taste, and a bit too set in her ways, but overall fine. I do have to say though, she probably has the nicest body out of all the mares you brought up. Perfect balance of muscle tone throughout her body, as opposed to say, Rainy, who is a little lopsided. Too much specialized exercise.” He missed the 15 ball again.

        “What about Fluttershy?” Trixie asked while thinking, Yes, got her name right!.

        “Who?”

        “Yellow pegasus, pink hair, butterflies for a cutie mark.” Trixie described as she lined up her shot which, if she did it right, would not only sink her 3-ball but put her in a position to put away her 6-ball

        “Oh, I think I know who you’re talking about.”

        “Well?” 

        “Well what?”

        “What do you think of her?”

        “Meh.”

        “Meh?!” Trixie was so shocked she missed her shot completely, but she didn’t care.

        “Meh.”

        “But she’s so cute!” Trixie said in disbelief.

        “Yeah, and that’s really the problem,” Card explained. “She’s cute. Just cute. Twinkly is cute and smart, she’s always willing to learn more and try new things. Rainy is cute and athletic, she’ll encourage you to do more. Stay-puft is cute and regal, she’ll always make things seem classier than they are. Jackie is cute and grounded, she’ll always keep you focused on how good things are. But Fluttershy is just generically cute, with everything accompanying that. It’s boring, at least to me.” Card sank the 15-ball. “8-ball side pocket.” He made the shot, and the game was over.

        “What am I?” Trixie asked.

        “You’re cute and charming. Wanna play again?” Card said as he racked up the balls

        “Sure, but you break now. You wanna hear what I think of you?” Trixie asked.

        “Nope. Come on, I’ve broken, you go.”




-----Near the End of the Lunch Break-----




        “You know, it just occured to me,” Trixie said as she finished off her last slice of pizza, “My apartment is way closer to Ricardo’s then this place. Why is it always delivered faster here?”

        “They like me more,” Card responded. “I tip better.”

        “Huh.” 

        The two friends sat in comfortable silence for a few seconds.

        *Ring-Ring-Ring*

        The alarm on Trixie’s desk went off, signaling the end of their lunch. While she went to go turn it off, Card walked back into his office.

        “I’ve got to go prepare for the next patient, would you clean this all up?” he asked.

        Trixie gave a grunt of confirmation and set about throwing away the pizza box and soda cans, along with picking up the napkins they had used and just left lying around the floor.

        As she was busy doing that, the door burst open.

        “Hello!” Pinkie cried as she bounced in, carrying a small pink bag around her neck. She went over to Trixie and started talking to her. “I have a meeting with the doctor only it was supposed to be four days ago but then I had to start planning a huge party for the Princess so I couldn’t come and had to change times to right now so I told myself,” Pinkie shifted her voice to a faux-serious tone,  “‘Pinkie, remember when now comes you need to go to the four floor-’ That’s so much fun to say! Four floor, four floor, four floor, oh wait I was telling you why I’m here. Well like I sai-”

        Trixie cut off Pinkie. “You have an appointment?” she asked as she pulled up the appointment files on the computer.

        “Uh-huh!” Pinkie said as she vigorously nodded her head.

        “What is your name?”

        “Pinkie Pie!”

        “Do you have some form of ID?”

        “Uhhmm…” Pinkie scrunched up her eyebrows and thought really hard. “Oh!” She reached into the little bag and pulled out her Ponyville resident’s ID. “I almost forgot why I brought that! Here!”

        Trixie checked that the ID matched the medical records. “Okay, you’re good. Feel free to go in.” She hoofed back the ID and waved Pinkie through the door.

        “Thank you!” Pinkie bounded into the office.




-----Inside Card’s Office-----




        “Hello, Pie,” Card said, already wearing the pimp hat and shutter shades.

        Pinkie Pie took one look at him and fell down laughing.  Card sat in his chair, waiting for the mare to stop rolling on the floor. After a few minutes she did, and got up.

        “You- You can take thos- those off,” Pinkie said in between giggles.

        “Oh?” Card asked as he took the hat and shades off and placed them upon his desk, picking up a notepad. “Please take a seat. So, you’re no longer having the nightmares?”

        “Nope!” Pinkie gleefully replied as she lay back, before stopping for a moment and saying, “Well, yep, but nope,” she said, her eyes far off in thought.

        “What do you mean?”

        “Well sometimes your angry eyes come and glare at me and I’m really scared, but then you’re nicer eyes come and I feel better. Also, sometimes there are eyes that just look a little bored watching it all,” she recounted, her hair slowly becoming more and more straight. “But it doesn’t happen very often.” Pinkie then sat up and looked straight at Card. “How do you that anyways?” she asked.

        “Do what?”

        “Become an entirely different pony,” Pinkie explained. “First you were all meany-mean when I first met you, then you became all nicey-nice when you came to visit, and right now you just seem blank, like all you are is something for me to talk to and listen to.”

        “Huh.” Card wrote something down in his notepad. “I believe I asked you to do something when you were last here? How’d that go?”

        “It went fine,” Pinkie replied. “You were right, I was able to find something I didn’t like about all of my friends.”

        “And how has that affected how you see them?” 

        “It hasn’t. They’re still my friends, and that will never change!” Pinkie said adamantly.

        “I see. Would you care to tell me what the things that bothered you about them were?” Card asked. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but telling someone will help make you feel better about it.”

        “Okie-dokie.” Pinkie lay back down onto the therapist sofa. “Let’s see…,” she thought.

        “Well, first there’s Rainbow Dash,” Pinkie said, the words pouring out her mouth like a waterfall. “She’s a great friend, but she only ever helps out if somepony has a really REALLY big problem. She never helps with anything small, it always has to be something big enough that she’ll be thanked for it.

        “Fluttershy is always nice, and always willing to help me even if it bothers her, but she’s so… so… spineless. Don’t get me wrong, she’s brave where it counts, like in the dragons cave!” Card raised an eyebrow, but Pinkie didn’t notice, “It’s just, she’s never brave for herself.

        “Rarity is generous, but she never just relaxes. She’s always trying to get somewhere, she never stops.

        “Applejack is devoted and works so hard that I can’t believe she can still walk without falling over, but she never tries anything new. She doesn’t trust it. You know what she always orders? Vanilla cupcake with chocolate frosting. Always. Can you believe it? How can she never try anything else for nearly FIVE years? It’s unbelievable.

        “Twilight is always willing to learn, whenever she starts talking about magic she looks like the colts and fillies that press their noses up against the pastry glass who can’t believe how many different things there are. But she’s so stubborn. She didn’t even consider that the poison joke might be a curse, called the idea silly. She was right, but still!” Pinkie finally finished, her chest heaving.

        “Is that it?” Card asked.

        “Yeah. You were right, I do feel a bit better, thanks!”

        “What about Mr. and Mrs. Cake?”

        Pinkie froze. “Wh- what about them?”

        “They’re important to you too, what did you find out about them that you don’t like?”

        Pinkie’s hair went all the way flat, and slightly gray. Card noticed this, saying, 

        “If you don’t want to talk about it-”

        Pinkie stopped him, “No, no. It- It’s just…” Pinkie sighed. “They gave me a place to live and a job, they put up with my parties, they got me Gummy, they’re so nice, but…”

        “But?” Card gently prompted.

        “They met me when I was sixteen, I’m twenty-one now, and they treat me like I’m ten!” Pinkie shouted the last part. “I’m not a little filly, and they think I need to be protected! I go into the Everfree forest almost daily, I’m in charge of one of the most important parts of winter wrap-up, I even helped defeat NightMare Moon!” Pinkie’s eyes were starting to water. Card hoofed her the tissue box her kept on his desk for just such occasions. She took it and wiped her eyes. “Thank you.”

        “You okay?”

        “Yeah, yeah I think I’m fine.” Pinkie balled up the napkin and threw it into the wastepaper basket near Card’s desk. Her eyes bounced around the room for a while, before settling on the pool table. “Can we play a game?” she asked as she gestured towards it.

        “Oh, certainly,” Card said as he got up out of his chair. “You still remember the rules?”

        “Yep.” Pinkie grabbed a cue.

        “Okay then, you break.” After she did so, Card asked her another question.

        “You said you feel like Mr. and Mrs. Cake treat you like a filly, correct? What do you mean by that?” 

        “They just always talk to me like I’m ten,” Pinkie said as Card took his shot.

        “Could you elaborate?” Card’s shot failed to make any balls go in.

        “Well, whenever I show Mrs. Cake my ideas for something new to sell, she always talks about it like it’s the greatest thing ever made.” Pinkie lined up her move.

        “I don’t see how that’s bad.”

        “It’s just the way she acts. Like she doesn’t think I can handle criticism. I can deal with being told I’m wrong, or that I made a mistake.” Pinkie knocked in the 2-ball, designating her as solids for this game.

        “And what about Mr. Cake?”

        “He always acts like I need to be watched at all times. He always asks me where I’m going, and if I ever have a stallion over he freaks out.” Pinkie failed to connect on her next move, but she continued speaking regardless, “He won’t let me try and help out with the bills. I use water and electricity in the house too, and I want to help pay for it, but whenever I bring it up he just changes the subject.”

        “Hmm.” Card pocketed the 13-ball, but then paused for a minute to think. “What do you call them?”

        “Huh?” Pinkie cocked her head to the side.

        “When you talk to them, what do you call them?”

        “I call them Mr. and Mrs. Cake. What else would I call them?” Pinkie asked confusedly as she leaned on her cue.

        “Do you know their first names?”

        “Of course I do! It’s Carrot and Cup,” Pinkie said, almost offended.

        “Why don’t you try calling them by their first names,” Card suggested. “Calling ponies by their last name makes them think of you as an inferior, or a foal in this case.” He turned his attention back onto the game. He made an attempt at the 11-ball but missed completely.

        “You really think that would help?” Pinkie asked.

        “Yeah. Do the work without being asked, take some initiative, clean up after yourself. Things like that, things that show them that you don’t need their help, go a long way in making others respect you,” Card explained.

        Pinkie took a shot, missed, and said, “Okie-dokie, I’ll try it. Thank you.”

        “It’s what I’m here for. Speaking of…” Card trailed off.

        “What?” Pinkie asked, a touch concerned.

        Card gathered his thoughts briefly before speaking, “You are a well adjusted, fairly stable, very perceptive, intelligent mare.”

        “Oh. Thank you!” a flattered Pinkie said.

        “So, I don’t think I can help you very much. Rather, you don’t need my help. I’ve shown you the road that can take you to a better place, but you’ll need to travel it on your own. If it ever comes to a point where you really, honestly, think you need my help, just give me a call. Other than that, there’s not much I can do for you.”

        “What are you saying?”

        “I don’t think you need to set up another appointment. At least, not right now,” Card finished, and with that he turned his attention back to the game.

        “You think I’m normal?!” an uplifted Pinkie asked/hoped, her hair back into it’s fullest, pinkest, and curliest form.

        “No,” Card stated.

        “Oh.” Immediately Pinkie’s hair went back to being straight.

        “Why would you want to be? Normal is boring, normal is dull. You’re fun, you’re bright.”

        “Oh!” Pinkie got a bit of a blush, barely noticeable against her pink cheeks.

        Card didn’t notice, and was still talking, “What you aren’t, is broken. And so, you don’t need me fix you.” He took his shot, and nailed in the 12 and 10-balls.

        “Well, th- thank you,” Pinkie said, suddenly shy.

        Card made an attempt at the 9-ball, but accidently hit the eight ball in. “Damnit,” he swore, before turning to Pinkie. “You wanna play again?”

        “Sure!” Pinkie said, and so the game was started anew. Pinkie was back to normal, but with one strange difference. Her mane was still bright red, as bright a shade it had ever been before, but her hair wasn’t piled up into a mess of curls. Instead, it hung around her face, like a waterfall. While her brain processed what just happened, the rest of the session went in a comfortable silence, only interrupted by the clack of the balls and the swearing of Card.