//------------------------------// // The Benefits of Friends with Benefits // Story: The Moonlit Rise of a Winning Pony // by Luminary //------------------------------// I was a few buildings away, all drooped ears and wings, when I heard the rubbery, wobbling sound of something passing through the library’s stylish new shield. I didn’t even think, and flew back, apologies for my idiocy queueing up. I was met by a little glaring dragon floating his way down through the bubble from what was likely an upstairs window. He was clearly used to the treatment. Even as the levitation set him down, he had his arms crossed. He pointed an accusing claw at me. “You,” he hissed. “What did you do? Twilight kicked me out.” Oh, thank Celestia. I was worried that I didn’t have enough to feel guilty about. “What happened?” I asked. “I don’t even know. I was taking a nap, and suddenly Twilight’s waking me up, telling me I need to go to Pinkie’s place.” His glare at me intensified. A little smoke was drifting from his nostrils. “She was all red and breathing quick. You’d better not have given her something. She’s twice as bossy when she’s sick.” I wish I could convince myself that she was just so consumed with Cloud-inspired animal lust that she needed some alone time. But that wasn’t something I could swallow… which was saying a lot, as some in town would attest to. I likewise bit back a comment reassuring Spike that I had a clean bill of health from Nurse Redheart, who probably knew me more intimately than she knew her own coltfriend. Sometimes it’s hard to remember what somepony’s age is when they aren’t actually a somepony. I lowered myself down and stretched a wing to offer a way up onto my back. “Nope. Not sick. I just did something really stupid. Here, let me take you over to Rarity’s.” The dragon sullenly climbed up onto my back. “Well, when you apologize, use the word ‘friendship’ a few times. Or ‘learned’. She’s a sucker for that.” His tone turned suspicious. “Why Rarity’s? Twilight said Pinkie’s.” I beat my wings, lifting myself off the ground. The little guy was actually heavier than he looked. Even so, I didn’t feel like walking. Too slow, and my legs were still a bit shaky from stupidly hammering against that shield. “Rarity’s is just as close. And you’ll never get any sleep with Pinkie around. You might get tired of Candy Land, or making smores, but she won’t. Besides, word is that you really like Rarity.” Spike growled, and beat his face against the back of my neck in frustration. His claws were a little pokey. A lot of ponies, presumably ones who haven’t, ahem, advanced interspecies relations with fangy dogs, clawy griffons, and that clingy whatever-that-was when I was swimming around Seaddle, would have freaked out from that nearby danger. We’re not a particularly cool and collected species, on the whole. “How does everyone know about that?” he whined into my mane. I shrugged, albeit not so much as to risk dislodging him from his position. He didn’t so much as flinch, despite us being above rooftop level. Brave kid. “Don’t know. Dash’s friends are just popular grapevine bait. And you’re our one-and-only dragon. If it makes you feel better, I think it’s great.” I could feel him lifting his head up. His voice was halfway suspicious. “You do?” “Sure, why not? Love’s love. Pony. Dragon. Clingy-thing. We all deserve to be happy.” I glanced back, if quickly. Looking behind yourself isn’t a great habit to get in when flying close to the ground. “Though you might be out of luck, for a few years. The age thing is a bit creepy to adults.” He seemed ready to question the clingy-thing. Luckily, the mention of his age mercilessly crushed his little psyche and sent him back to groaning and beating his face against my neck. I laughed and spilled some air from my wings to give a bumpy, leg-length drop, catching his attention. “Maybe you should find someone closer to your own age to practice on? So you won’t be so nervous making a play for Rarity later?” “Nopony can hold a candle to Rarity,” he stated, with stubborn matter-of-factness. “No kidding. From what I hear, she’d kill you for giving her a burned spot on her coat.” I could feel his unamused stare boring into the back of my head. Tough crowd. I landed near the door to Rarity’s boutique. The main lights were on, even if the sign was flipped to ‘Closed,’ so I didn’t feel so bad when I knocked. After a minute, it opened. I’d seen Rarity just that morning, and she looked like she’d been through a war since then. Her silky purple mane and tail were looking frazzled. A set of bobby pins were threaded through her mane and likely forgotten. Her mascara was smeared. Sweat glimmered at her brow. She looked more than a little like a mare who had just gotten up from a roll in the hay. It was more than a little hot. Judging by the lovelorn sigh from Spike, on my back, he agreed. I’d pretty much lost the right to tease him about silly crushes, after tonight. Still, those chic little red glasses that were resting on Rarity’s muzzle weren’t exactly letting me forget the source of my troubles. Twilight really needed glasses to complete the effect. Some expression must have shown up on my face, because Rarity’s ears folded back. “Oh, my. That looks bad.” She levitated Spike from my back and set him on the ground in front of her. “Spikey, would you be a dear and put on some tea? Something soothing. A flower tea. Chrysanthemum, I should think.” I’m pretty sure Spike meant to say something clever in return, but he just mumbled dreamily, and then rushed off toward what was presumably the kitchen. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he ended up in a broom closet. That kid had it bad. I’ll just be ignoring the obvious parallels, thank you. Rarity didn’t wait for the tea. She sat me down on a crocheted cushion beside a stylish little table by the window, and took her place opposite me. The silence stretched for half a minute or so, while I set my brain to working for the first time that night. It seemed that was too much time for Rarity. She raised a hoof to fretfully brush at her mane. “I do apologize for my state. I have about a month of work to do, and less than a week to do it.” She breathed a put-upon sigh. “I suppose I should hire help. Someone to model, or a deft horn to sew. But that kind of care seems to be rather a lost art. A sign of our society, I suppose. All the young unicorn colts and fillies are always so concerned about brute strength with their magic, never about being graceful. Never about what can be done with that strength.” It was surprisingly comforting to have someone else airing their issues. It wasn’t destined to last, though. “Of course, it seems I’m not the only one with unicorn problems today,” she continued. “It wasn’t a date. I wasn’t interested. I wasn’t lying about that...” I ran my hoof around an imagined stain that most certainly didn’t exist on the spotless table. I could see Rarity eyeing it anyway. “... at first.” I jumped when a loud bang echoed around the room. Rarity had slammed her hoof down on the table in triumph. “Ah-ha! I knew it!” I stared at her across the table; she at least had the decency to look abashed. “Look,” I began again, “I just happen to think she’s really cute. That’s all. It’s all very shallow. And I’m not exactly used to ponies who are really… inexperienced. I’m sure you’ve heard about me.” Rumor and gossip were the lifeblood of any small town, and Rarity was one of the ponies with her hoof on the pulse of it. She was the sort of pony everyone knew was going places. And for a lot of ponies, that made her the sort of pony they wanted to know. She nodded her head; at least she didn’t look judgemental, or disapproving. “I admit, I wouldn’t exactly call you a perfect match for our Twilight. She’s still a little nervous in strange situations. And while I would count her naivete as one of her more charming qualities, it does have its downsides.” Rarity pursed her lips and continued. “But then again, stranger things have happened. Left to herself, she’s not liable to venture into the world of romance for a long time. An experienced hoof and a bit of risk-free experimentation isn’t the worst thing in the world that could happen to her.” One of my ears flicked. I buried the irrational irritation as it threatened to bubble up. She really did know my reputation, it seemed. And I’ll be the first to admit that it was pretty much all true. I had no cause at all to get annoyed when ponies assumed my intentions were entirely in the banging. Hay, I’d all but told her as much. Maybe my conscience was just coming out to bite me, for using my ‘experienced hoof’ to make a play that I knew was a terrible idea. “Well, I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” I said. “I took off from the starting line a bit early on this one. I think we’ll be lucky if this ends with her still talking to me.” Rarity’s look became a little coy. “Oh? And does that matter to you? You barely know her.” “Of course it matters,” I answered, snappishly. I lapsed into silence after that, though, as the question actually received some thought. It was true that I barely knew her. We’d spent a few hours together, and no more. Rarity laughed. It was a sweet sound, with no hint of mockery. “There’s something very infectious about her, in the very best sense. She slips in, right past your barriers, without you even noticing. Twilight Sparkle is something incomparably special.” A little smile tugged at my lips. There was some truth to that. There was that Blossomy sense of humor. She was achingly adorable and unassuming. And brilliant too, in that dorky sort of w— “And that’s why if you’ve truly hurt her, or do so in the future, all of our first instincts will be, of course, to utterly destroy you,” Rarity said, sweetly. My head shot up to stare at her in surprise. That really shouldn’t have been nearly as menacing as I took it, but it was actually sort of chilling. Rarity just gave me an innocent bat of her eyelashes. “Luckily, we’re all quite forgiving, and Twilight is more than able to take care of herself.” The unicorn made a little wave of her hoof. “Rainbow tends to act before thinking, however. So best to tread carefully. And to apologize promptly, for whatever you did.” Rarity left that last bit hanging, fishing for information on my crime, no doubt. I pretended not to notice, and instead groaned, burying the end of my muzzle against my hoof. “Trust me, you don’t have to tell me what Rainbow’s like. I have first-hoof experience.” The last thing I needed was a repeat of Flight Camp. “I swear, I’m never allowing myself an irrational crush again.” Rarity clicked her tongue. “Now now, none of that. What would life be without that sort of magic? You just need a little cheering up. I have an absolutely decadent chocolate ice cream in my ice box, for just such an occasion. I could use the break, and I’d love to hear about Dash as a filly.” I shot her a smile, lingering nerves aside, but shook my head. I rose back up to my hooves. “I appreciate that. And I do need some cheering up. But I think it’s one of those days where it’s best done at home. I really just came to bring Spike, anyway. Seems Twilight’s in a pretty similar mindset as me. So if you could watch him for tonight?” Rarity rose as well. I’d really expect no less than her perfectly following the social niceties. She escorted me to the door. “I’m always happy to have Spikey over. I’m sure he’ll be a great help, too. But are you sure you wish to go?” I glanced back almost instinctively, looking for double meaning there. But no, her expression and body language made it seem like a purely innocent offer. Not that I’d really take her up on it if it wasn’t. Even I learn my lesson if you hit me hard enough. “Yeah, I’m sure. Rain check, okay? I could tell you a few stories. But tonight, I just need the simple comforts.” +++++ Pokey Pierce moved under me, if not much, until the ropes pulled at the unyielding bedframe, making it creak. I shifted my weight to press my hoof down more firmly against his chest, taking a moment to admire the gleaming blackness concealing my leg, and how it contrasted against the unicorn’s blue coat. Sometimes the best part of being me is the dressing up, and then watching the effect: in this case, Pokey’s eyes following that covered foreleg with perfect attentiveness. Ahh, the simple comforts. As I dipped my head down, I knew those eyes would be going wide, even if I couldn’t see them. I focused on a chosen little patch on his neck, right below his jaw. I could feel his appreciation quite clearly. I’m not proud to admit that it shook me from fantasizing about doing this to a certain mare with a geometrically perfect manecut. No, not Blossom. Though there was some appeal there, too. Right, moving back from uncomfortable-thought-town to the shameless rebound pony. I raised a hoof to press it to the bottom of Pokey’s muzzle, forcing it upward. I moved higher along him to whisper heatedly in his ear. It flicked satisfyingly in time with a hitch in his breath. “Hmm, I don’t know, Pokey. I spent a half-hour getting you all trussed up—which isn’t easy for a pegasus—and you’re trying to wiggle away. Starting to feel like you don’t trust me.” I took a moment to nibble on the edge of that chosen ear, just to cut off any protests. “I think you’d best prove to me that I’m mistaken. Before I go on, I think I deserve something. Your deepest, darkest secret would do.” He swallowed. I released his head so he could talk, and amused myself with placing little kisses around his horn. “I… I sometimes go to children’s parties just to test my horn on the balloons.” I clicked my tongue in disappointment. “That’s not a secret, Pokey. Everyone knows. Pinkie sets out extra balloons just for you.” I gave a light, if chastising nip to that wonderful horn. “Try again.” He shifted in his bonds, considering things for a moment. I spent my time not making that easy for him. He took a deep breath. “I…” he began, voice all full of hesitation and grave confession. “I think I love Pinkie Pie. Like, really love her.” I resisted the urge to snort. “Pokey. My dear, sweet, oblivious Pokey. That’s the worst secret ever. Half the ponies in town are head-over-hooves for Pinkie. Hay, most days I think I am.” He blinked, squirming so he could get his head in a position to meet my eyes. He looked doubtful. “Really?” I tapped on his nose with a shiny black hoof. “Mmmhmm. Who’s better at making ponies feel special and loved than her? Most just get weirded out by how young she acts, or how energetic she is, and don’t try for her.” I tactfully avoided mentioning that Pinkie probably would have been more than happy to return Pokey’s affections, pre-Dash. No need to have a blubbering, depressed unicorn on my hooves. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll make you forget all about the Pink One for the night. But first…” I lowered my head to press my nose to his, narrowing my eyes just so. “I still want that secret, Pokey.” He bit his lip. “I… forgot to tip my mailpony after the Summer Sun Celebration this year?” “You fiend!” I hissed, accusingly. I continued in a cheerful tone, “That’ll do.” He may not have been Twilight Sparkle, but I could always find some good use for an eager stallion. I was proving the fourth way that was true when the pounding started. From the front door, not… you know. I ignored it, of course, either to Pokey’s delight, or dismay. That was a bit unclear from the sounds he was making. It might have been both. After about five minutes, once the knocking had transmuted into some kind of cheerful, perfectly on-tempo beat, I opened my door with a bit more violence than was necessary. Lyra, so intent on being a pain, almost pitched forward when the door she was leaning against suddenly wasn’t there anymore. It wasn’t surprising that she didn’t tumble over; she had a bit of a reputation for being scatterbrained, and most would assume that made her clumsy, but Lyra’s sense of balance was pretty freaky. You could bend that mare in all sorts of weird—and fun—ways, and she’d go along without a worry. And even if she did worry, you could pretty much do it anyway, and she’d still happily go along with it. Case in point, she recovered from her stumble and dove in for a sympathetic hug practically before she could take in the sight of me. She skidded to a halt before those minty arms made it around me. Maybe it was my unamused look. Maybe it was the fact that entertaining a stallion was often a messier affair than with a mare. Judging by the way she scrunched her nose up, I’m guessing it was the latter. “We came to take you out on a girl’s night,” she hurriedly stammered, taking a half-step away from the icky stallion-cooties. “We heard about your fight with Twilight, and figured you could probably use it.” ‘We’ turned out to include Bon Bon. She waved a hoof from the doorway. I’m not sure what annoyed me more: getting interrupted right in the middle of the fun part, or hearing that rumors were making their way around Ponyville already. Either way, it meant that making Lyra pay for her ten minutes of knocking was sounding pretty good, from a petty revenge point of view. I folded my ears back, putting on an expression that was the very picture of misery. “I-I actually thought we had something special, too. Can you believe that?” I let my wings droop down, and shook my head. “For once, you know, I was thinking that maybe she was the one.” My wings beat sullenly, lifting me into the air so I could stretch out my forelegs for a shiny, black, fetishy hug. Lyra’s eyes widened. Her legs shook. Her loyalty to her dear friend waged visible war in her expression with her desire to keep my messy self somewhere past foreleg’s length. She lasted much longer than I thought. I was almost touching her before she lost her nerve and scampered behind her fillyfriend. Bon Bon rolled her eyes, at least in the moment before they widened as Lyra’s hooves on her rump shoved her forward to absorb the hug. Lyra must have been pretty desperate to manage that. Earth ponies aren’t easy to move against their will. With a chuckle, I beat my wings to gain a bit of altitude, dodging the stumbling candymare. Bons wasn’t quite so dedicated a fillyfooler, but I don’t think she’d really want to cuddle up to the pony who had just thoroughly and repeatedly ruined Pokey Pierce for all other mares, forever. Bons gave Lyra a dirty look, brushing off her coat. She glanced up at me. “You already getting to the next pony? Nice boots, by the way.” “You like? Looks like I’ve found a Hearth’s Warming gift for you, then. Anyway, about the thing at the library... it’s just a bit of a misunderstanding,” I explained, wishing I really believed that as much as I should have. I landed clear of the pair. “I’ll give you the story over drinks. I actually do like the sound of a night out. Just let me grab a shower and untie a few loose ends.” “You mean tie up a few loose ends?” Bon Bon asked, cautiously. Always a smart cookie, that one. “Nope!” I cheerfully called over my shoulder, and trotted deeper into my house. +++++ The Sun’s Flank was about the best place for me. Well, after a quick shower to make myself properly fillyfooler-bar-compliant, anyway. Strong drinks, a normal, social atmosphere, a lot of pretty mares of the mostly non-purple variety, and the guarantee of sweet and minty comfort at the end of it all were a recipe for a happy Cloud. Which, of course, was why I was miserable. Makes sense, right? I was studying my reflection in a mug of some kind of bright red cherry drink from Canterlot that Lyra’d ordered up for me. The colour helped to hide the redness of my eyes, if only from myself. They itched, mired in that place just shy of tears, where they could start at any moment. My ears were pinned back in an absolutely pitiable expression. Lyra’s hoof stroked at my back. I could feel the warmth of Bon’s breath against my cheek, where she was lovingly nuzzling me. You’d think that would make me feel better. It did, in a way, but every bit of comforting, familiar love they showed was eroding something away in me. I closed my eyes tightly and tried to breathe around the lump of emotion growing in my chest. I don’t really buy all of the Clan stoicism but breaking down into sobs in front of half of the eligible bachelorettes in Ponyville sounded pretty awful. And it just wasn’t me besides. “I bucked this one up hard,” I moaned. The words just poured out of my mouth without any real thought. I could feel Bon Bon lifting her muzzle. The couple probably shared a look or something. I couldn’t blame them. But in short enough order I had Lyra wiggling her way closer, and Bon pressing her nose harder against me. Just letting me know they were there. “We didn’t think you had it so bad. You were joking about it before,” Lyra said. The good old days of a half hour ago. Before the nuzzling and familiar safety of dear friends turned me into, well, this. “I don’t. It’s not serious. I’m not in love, or anything. She’s great, and smart, and cute. But so are you girls.” I turned my head to rub my muzzletip to Bon’s. It helped to be on the giving end of it. “It’s just… I tricked her, practically. I stole something from her.” “What do you mean?” Lyra asked. Judging by the way she was stroking her way up along my neck, she’d be going in for the head-to-chest comfort cuddle pretty shortly. I don’t know if I could handle that. I leaned forward, away from Lyra’s touch, to look back into my nice, neutrally emotional drink. “Broke rule eight. She had no idea what she was getting into with me. I played her,” I sulked. “Think I all but stole her first kiss.” With utmost predictability, Lyra’s hoof froze. She took that sort of thing seriously. Even me, who isn’t so keen on romance, thought the same. I still looked back on my first with Eepy more than a little fondly. And all Twilight would get to remember was me leaping on her and trying to eat her face. “Maybe I’m beating myself up too much about it. I don’t even know if it was her first.” So maybe I was taking comfort in lying to myself. I was pretty sure. She had no idea what she was doing, and Rarity’s hints were pretty strong. But I don’t think I could handle Lyra being angry at the moment. And I desperately wanted to change the topic. It wasn’t my most glorious of days. I forced my ears back up, and likewise forced myself to finish my story. “So, yeah. Tossed out on my rear. Pounding on the force field. Sort of had it coming, huh? Forgot how dumb it all makes you act. I haven’t had a schoolfilly crush since… well… being a schoolfilly.” I made a nebulous motion with my hoof in Lyra’s direction. She gave me a bright but slightly forced smile and flung a foreleg around my shoulders. Lyra could be pretty empathetic when she needs to be. She faithfully latched onto the change of subject. “Aww, but that’s when you were the best. You made romantic gestures and everything. Flowers. Moonlit strolls through Canterlot. Dancing.” I snuck a peek over at Bon Bon. We’re pretty solid, and she certainly knew about Lyra and I, but some ponies get weird when former lovers take nostalgia trips together. There was less betrayal on her face and more horrified shock, like a foal who just got told that Celestia wasn’t the one putting the presents under the tree at Hearth’s Warming. “Moonlit strolls?” Bons repeated, incredulously. “Stop looking so surprised. It’s not as if I don’t know about romance, it’s just not my thing,” I grumped, before again waving my foreleg in Lyra’s direction, a bit more wildly now. “It’s not my fault, anyway. She has eerie Heartstrings powers. They can make a pony do all sorts of weird and sappy things.” No, really. That family is a bit… strange. There’s no doubt they’re probably one of the most approachable noble families in Canterlot. But, c’mon now. You’re only allowed to decorate your manor with a certain number of amorous statues and hearts before it gets creepy. To say nothing of intimidating. When you’re a teenager trying to figure things out, it’s likely easier to have the disapproving family than one who acts like Celestia floated down from the heavens to bestow a life of eternal bliss when they learn their daughter is dating. That’s one big dose of pressure. Then again, having a family with a name synonymous with romance is probably a bit more fun than being in the one equally bound to duty and stoicism. Maybe I should trade up, before my parents found out about the molesting-Twilight-Sparkle thing. “Actually, Lyra,” I said, on a whim, “marry me? Your parents will understand.” Lyra froze, midway through sipping through a straw. “‘Kay. If Bons is fine with it.” “No. Bons is not fine with barroom proposals. Not that every mare isn’t flattered to get married so her lover has a convenient place to hide.” Bon Bon at least turned her silent needling away from my beaten self and toward better, mintier targets. “Anyway, don’t encourage her. Last time someone mentioned her family, and she got it in her head to live up to the legacy, it was two solid weeks of fancy dresses and candlelit dinners. Almost had to tie her to a chair after that to have a normal meal at home.” “What do you mean, almost?” Lyra shot back. “You could have just said something. Eating a carrot casserole without being able to move isn’t easy.” A self-satisfied little smirk was threatening to creep onto the earth pony’s lips. But she covered it with an airy wave. “You need more practice with your levitation anyway. Workplaces expect certain things from unicorns.” Uh oh. Work mentions never go well with Lyra. Apparently it was some big thing between them. Lyra is pretty well chronically unemployable, and lives on her parent’s generosity. Bons is a pretty traditional earth pony, so that doesn’t exactly fly with her. This time, I’m sticking with the strengths. I didn’t need another night with tears. “Girls, girls. No arguing. Not until I go get those boots for Bon Bon. Then the arguing becomes much more interesting to watch.” Bons gave me a flat look—the Twilight Sparkle!—and reached over to push my drink back toward me. “Go back to drowning your sorrow, Cloud.” Lyra, sulking on her side of me, would not be deterred. “Besides, my family’s ‘legacy’ isn’t something to laugh at. When someone needed to look after the new Princess of Love, who’d Celestia send her to?” “Yes, you’ve told me the secret princess hoofshake story more than once.” Bon Bon leaned over me, practically squashing me down with that earth pony strength, to place a kiss to Lyra’s cheek. She then nudged Lyra’s drink closer to her. “I love you, but go back to drowning Cloud’s sorrows, sweetie.” I really can’t say Bons doesn’t give good advice. +++++ I can’t imagine surviving after being hit by a train is a common event. I was getting a pretty good approximation of how that survivor would feel the next day, though. I woke up with pain throbbing down my muzzle, and pounding through my brain. My wings felt like someone had been dancing on them, and my back was tense enough that I wish they’d move on to that. I wasn’t sure if that discomfort was the worst thing, or if that honor was held by how my stomach felt like I’d been swallowing sand. Though my tastebuds informed me that it was probably something far more horrible than that. When I dared to peek my eyes open, I found out that I was in Bon’s bedroom. Hardly a strange or unknown place. Being on the floor by the bed was something new, though. I groaned in pure, distilled misery and tried to stretch out my aching wing. Note to self: before the next round of binge drinking and barroom singing of sorrowful love songs, teach friends the importance of making sure a drunk pegasus isn’t laying directly on her wing.  “Serves you right,” thundered a voice from above, reminding me of the last Nightmare Night. I winced and slowly oozed my way into a lazy sitting position, slumping my head down on top of the bed’s edge. Squinting against the light, I saw Bon Bon glaring at me from the bed. She was cuddled up behind a sitting Lyra, a foreleg around her, with her other hoof pressing an ice pack to the base of the unicorn’s horn. “What was with all that biting last night? I told you we weren’t doing that stuff. Lyra has a job interview today. She can’t go with her face and ears all swollen up.” Bons trumpeted, at a whisper. Somehow. Lyra actually looked a little hopeful when talk about skipping the interview came up. “Um, Bons? That ice is a little cold, maybe…” Lyra’s thankfully barely audible whisper ended with a squeak with Bon Bon scoldingly prodded her side. “Stop being devious,” Bon Bon said firmly, like a house-shaking crash of thunder. “You’re going, even with the bruises. So best let me take care of you.” Meanwhile, it was taking me what I’m sure was an absurdly embarrassing amount of time to puzzle out why I’d suddenly turn into a biter when drunk. Drunk sex is pretty well against the rules, so I can’t say I do it too often. I could pretty much assume Lyra and Bons were pro-banging though, so I didn’t have to worry about bad decisions being made, or regrets. I still had enough experience to know that getting some drinks in me tended to make me happily friendly and affectionate. The answer came to be less as a bolt from the blue, and more riding on the shell of a particularly laid-back snail. I groaned and shut my eyes, putting myself back into blissful darkness. “Right. No more drinking and using my new and terrifying powers.” “Powers?” the skull-shattering voice of the universe, or Bons, bellowed. I winced, folding my ears tightly back. I was sure she was doing that on purpose, the nag. “Look, I’m sorry. But can we wait to talk until after breakfast? Or at least have the mercy to just put me out of my misery, rather than talking?” Luckily, for all her infinite cruelty, Bon Bon chose to allow me the first option. So a shower and half of Bon’s bottle of mouthwash later, I was breathing in the steam from some incredibly strong black coffee. It would power me to Sugarcube Corner later, and to Pinkie’s hangover cure. In reward, explanations were provided. Very quiet explanations. “So,” Lyra whispered to me conspiratorially, “know the pressure-pointy nerve spots for earth ponies?” I started to shake my head, but the way the world began to perilously spin made me stop pretty quickly. “Not yet. We’ll see after the Great Apology of 1001. Wish I could rule out me being left as just four smoking horseshoes after trying.” No that I wear any. But hey, wizards. You never know. “I bet it’s the hooves.” Lyra concluded after a moment of thought. “Makes sense, right? Touching the ground and all.” She made a surreptitious glance toward Bon Bon and slid the ice pack from her forehead, pressing a hoof there to try to warm the spot back up. Predictably, Bons was at her side a few seconds later to put the ice back in place without a word. Lyra obediently held it there. I took a sip of my coffee and diplomatically said nothing on the topic. “So, job interview?” Lyra sighed, theatrically. “Not an interview, exactly. Just… meeting with the headmaster from one of the local schools. Colgate had this idea of me doing talks on musical history and…” She shrugged, listlessly. “It’s a hoof-in-the-door thing, I guess.” “There are much better uses for your hooves,” I pointed out, unhelpfully. Seemingly the coffee was working, I was feeling more like myself. “Bons isn’t quite as easy to distract with them as you are, unfortunately,” she shot back. Bon Bon set a heaping plate of scrambled eggs and sliced tomatoes on the table between us. “Sure I am. I just don’t forget the important things afterward.” She gave Lyra a sweet little nuzzle on the cheek. “Sabotage aside, I’m really happy that you’re finally giving it a go, Lyra.” That seemed to instantly brighten Lyra up, while I stewed in my guilt. One, or both, of those things in turn had her girlfriend humming on her way to get her next plate. I wasn’t the most sappy pony in the world, but I could recognize a cute couple when I saw one. Lyra’s mood was buoyed enough that she actually levitated some sugarcubes over for her tea, rather than spooning them in with her mouth. I didn’t get to see that gold magic enough. She was pretty dismal at basic levitation. Or anything magical, really. Still, she usually kicked herself about it far more than she deserved. What she could do was usually handled pretty deftly. Playing the lyre with magical fingers isn’t something that could be done without a bit of grace...ful…ness. I need to have horrible hangovers and abuse my loved ones more often. It apparently leads to brilliance. “Lyra, sweetie, go brush your hair and coat out, okay? You’re not meeting this headmaster of yours.” “I’m not?” Lyra’s voice contained more than a little upswing of hope. “Oh yesh she ish.” Bon Bon stated mushily, around the next plate she was bringing to the table. +++++ I was trying to smooth down an unruly lock of the nervously fidgeting Lyra’s mane when Rarity opened her front door. A few bells fixed above the door merrily sang away. I hadn’t noticed that yesterday. Goes to show what sort of mood I’d been in, when hangover-me is more perceptive. “Miss Cloud Kicker,” Rarity said, by way of greeting. She gave me a look over, a tiny bit of a frown pulling at her lips. She herself had a bit of dark puffiness to her eyes. Clearly she’d been working late. Even so, she looked gorgeous. Every strand of her mane in perfect place. Her make-up expertly applied. I brushed at my own mane with a hoof, to satisfy a spike of self-consciousness. “Sorry, hard night.” For whatever reason, that swung Rarity’s expression from disapproval toward sympathy. “Affairs of the heart aren’t to be taken lightly. Twilight is still locked away in her library. I tried to visit her this morning.” She stepped to the side and made a beckoning motion with a hoof. “Come in, have some tea.” I gave an aborted shake of my head. “I’d love to have a chance to vent my woes, believe me.” Well, another chance. Some problems require a lot of complaining. “But I have to get to work. I’m actually here to help you.” “Me? Whatever with?” “Rarity, meet Lyra Heartstrings. She’s a musician with magical dexterity to spare. She’s perfect model-material. And best of all, she’s looking for wor—” I didn’t get to finish that. Rarity cut right in, “Of the Canterlot Heartstrings?” Lyra perked up, nodding her head. “The one and only.” “The same family that Tempered Hearts, The Rise of Love and To Chase the Sun are based on?” Looking a little overwhelmed by the barrage of titles, Lyra answered, “Yeah, we do tend to show up in a lot of courtly romance novels.” She raised a hoof to scratch uncomfortably at the back of her neck. “There’s usually a story behind all of them. But don’t go asking me too much about The Rise of Love. That one’s about how my parents met. Which is neat, normally. But the book is sort of…” She made an indistinct waving gesture with her hoof. “Titillating? Racey?” Rarity offered, voice dropping an octave. Lyra nodded reluctantly. She changed the subject almost immediately. “To Chase the Sun is probably my favorite. It’s not really true. Obviously Celestia never got married, but Grandpa Gallant really did try to court her. And the Shine family did raise that mob to try to run him out of Canterlot. From the way he told it…” I made my escape at that point. Romance novels are one of those subjects you just didn’t want to get into with Lyra. It was looking like Rarity was the same. I doubt either of them noticed me skulking off. They’d do just fine, I figured. The conversation was absurd anyway. Everypony knows that Celestia only had eyes for Shadow. Celestia was the original Kickersexual. And once you go Kicker, at others you’ll snicker. Hey, not bad for a pony with a hangover. With a new spring in my step—or at least less of a lurch—I headed off down the main street. Pinkie’s Party Panacea first, then it was time to face the adorkable music, then work, if I survived the librarian’s wrath. The current plan was to spend a lot of time on my knees blubbering for forgiveness over what an utter, absolute mule I was. There might be crying. And I’d have to mention lessons and friendship, apparently. Advice is advice. Honestly, I was feeling optimistic. I fixed Lyra’s whole life with one swoop. Rarity will presumably owe me one. Bon Bon is going to be incredibly appreciative for finding Lyra respectable employment. And apparently I’m at my best with a pounding headache. Which I’m hoping will stay after one of Pinkie’s miracle morning-after cures. Bring on the traumatized national heroes, Equestria! Cloudy’s got this. I was halfway to Sugarcube Corner when a rainbow missile flew down at me at a lethal speed. I shrieked in a way that was sure to do my noble ancestors proud and fell back onto my rump. In the mud. I almost repeated my marely scream from the cold stabbing away at a very sensitive place. I’ll give Rainbow points for something. Not tact or empathy or brilliance or whatever trait involves not knocking your friends into freezing mud. But she was certainly one hell of a flyer. She managed to stop from an absurd speed to hovering almost muzzle-to-muzzle with me in barely more than a pony-length. Those eyes of hers are actually a bit intimidating when they’re right up on you like that. A hoof reached out to prod me dead-center in the chest. “Cloud. Pack your bags. You’re leaving Ponyville. Today.” Seriously, world?