It’s an unusually brisk September morning, nine months to the day when Moon first appeared in my life, cold enough for me to put on a sweatshirt despite the fact that it’s still technically summer and we’re in SoCal. We’re on White Mountain, about an hour’s drive northwest of home, at the northern edge of the range, and past that another fifteen minutes where we parked. It gives us – gives her – privacy for what is about to happen.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask Moon. She looks pensive, as far as I can tell. This is already tough on her: it’s the farthest she’s been from the house, her first time out in public – so to speak – and well….
She looks back at me, her eyes steadfast pools of aqua. She intends to do this regardless. “Are you…disappointed?” she asks.
“Why would I be? This is your choice, and only you can make it,” I remind her. She nods in understanding at my sage wisdom – yeah, right; “sage wisdom”, my ass.
She looks at the freshly dug pit in front of her. “This is where I bury you,” she says to no one in particular. And though I know she isn’t talking to me, I still can’t help but feel a chill roil through me. “I thought this is what I wanted out of life, once. I thought that I would have everything and that everypony would love me for it. And look where that line of thinking got me. Twice.
“So I reject you – forever. Let me never remember you ever again, and let me live a normal life…or as much as I can have in this world. I hope never to have your countenance before me. I reject you, despise you and hope you will be forgotten someday. This is your end…
“…Nightmare Moon.” And with that, she unfolds a very ornate flag, a beautiful silken vexillum that displays a black crescent moon against a starry indigo field. She told me it was the banner of arms that she used to lead her forces into war against Celestia. I’m still having a hard time picturing the soft-spoken alicorn standing next to me as some sort of unstoppable WWII-like general, but that’s the closest I have in basis for comparison. Assuming she had the power to do everything she claimed she did – and I don’t think she’s lying one bit – then yeah, it’s brutal.
Giving it a kick, the flag slithers into the pit. The moment it does, with her magic, she lifts a giant boulder, one that must have easily weighed a ton or so, then easily sets it down on the hole without so much as breaking a sweat. Once that’s done, she collapses to the ground, more out of shock of the moment as opposed to being tired. That vulnerable look appears on her face once more, and it twinges at my heart a little.
I move over to her side, and she’s grateful for my help. I look at her and ask, “How do you feel?”
The smile on her face is as wide as can be. “Free,” she says, her voice sounding bright and cheerful. Or maybe it’s always been like this and I’d never known or noticed that until now.
“So what next?”
“I’ll just be Moon, nothing else,” she replies. “Nightmare Moon, as far as I’m concerned, is only my Steam tag, and that’s it. The would-be evil queen is dead, and I want her to stay that way.” She then gives me a coy look and says, “So is this the part where you woo me with all the incredible gadgets in the house as well as exotic treasures like orange juice?”
I laugh. “Where on Earth did you get that idea?”
“Well, I told you about orange juice being a highly-priz—”
“No, I mean the other part.”
She chuckles in response as we head back to the car. “Saw it on TV while you were in Atlanta. Some movie about an elf girl being in the same situation as me, but gets wooed by all the crap the guy has at home.” She rolls her eyes and nickers. “If you ask me, I think the creative team put way too much thought into film design and not enough into common sense.”
“Well,” I tell her as I head over to the driver’s side of the car, “Nobody can constantly roll natural 20s, Moon.”
“Tell me how that’s a bad thing,” she replies as she climbs into the back seat and under the blanket I placed back there so she wouldn’t be seen. “Can we stop somewhere for lunch?”
“So, when do we get to meet her?” Carrie asks. She wanted me to meet her for lunch at this new place she found in Alhambra. Should’ve known it was a trap.
“Meet who?”
She rolls her eyes. “Moon,” she says, matter-of-factly, as the hummus from the piece of bread she’s wielding like a baton drips down onto the table.
“I’m sorry, I….”
She gives me that look. “Destiny thinks that you guys got along great, but that things didn’t go anywhere because she didn’t sleep with you the first night. Should I tell her you’re still available? She really likes you and she told me the other day that she just bought some edible underwear with you in mi—”
I groan. “Really?” I ask, countering her look with the older brother look.
“She said, and I quote, ‘I get creamy when I think of your brother riding me like we’re at Santa Anita Park—’” I nearly choke on the bite of shwarma I just started chewing on, and Carrie laughs, then has the decency to look apologetic. “Sorry, maybe I shoulda waited until you finished before laying that one on you.”
“Please tell me you’re joking that she said that.”
“No, she wasn’t. But for what it’s worth, I have to admit that I made a mistake fixing you two up; that shouldn’t have happened.” She took a bite of her own, then asked, “So now that we’ve both admitted to mistakes, why won’t you tell me about your girlfriend?”
“Carrie, I—”
“Look, North, the whole family is thrilled that you’re able to move on past Rachel. And I understand you’re taking it slow – considering that I’m running out of friends to throw at you, I know you’re taking it slow. But I think we all deserve to meet the girl who finally caught your attention.”
“Look, Moon…she’s not my girlfriend, okay? She’s a friend that’s been helping me through a few things as of late, that’s all. When I told Don about her, she just happened to be staying at my place for the week, because…well, her apartment was getting fumigated.” And I know I’m going to hell for that lie.
“So where does she live?”
“Um…Rialto, or Fontana; maybe Ontario or Claremont – somewhere around there,” I answer, knowing it’s lie number two. When Carrie gives me that look again, I just hand it right back to her. “Do you know where all your male friends live?”
“Okay, okay, I get the point,” Carrie says, waving her hands in a sort of defeat. “But, answer me this, North: Should I call off the hunt? Will this Moon girl fill the bill? You’re my big brother and I genuinely want to know you’re happy. We all do.”
It’s a question I can’t answer.
“Is he gone?” she asks.
“Yeah, he’s gone,” I tell Moon. I see her walk into the guest room – well, her room now – and I’m blinking. A Great Dane walks in, one with a charcoal gray coat and ice blue eyes. Then it sits and looks at me, an annoyed look on its face. “Well, I thought it was the safest thing to do in case he saw me,” she explains, while I’m trying not to mentally short-circuit from looking at a dog talk to me. “I’m tired of hiding and I couldn’t just run the TV in your room while sitting in there; what would happen if he walked in?”
I point at her, waving a finger around to encompass her body. “Could you, uh…?”
“Oh, sorry.” A flicker of dark blue spellfire, and she’s back to normal. “Honestly, I think that was a major difference between me and Luna,” she tells me off-handedly, as if I have any clue of what she’s talking about. “She was always better at the subtle spells: shapeshifting, shadow walking, that sort of stuff. Me, on the other hoof? I’m a little more…ah, ‘blunt’, shall we say: glamories, outright shadow manipulation, that sort of thing.”
“I thought you two were the same person?”
“We were, but….” I can practically hear the gears turn in her head as she’s trying to come up with a non-magical explanation that won’t confuse the hell out of me. She flutters her wings briefly in annoyance; I’m guessing that’s the equivalent of a shrug. “It’s…well…you know that movie about the woman with multiple personalities?”
I look at her oddly. “You mean Sibyl? You do know that was one of those ‘based on a true story’ kind of movies. They exaggerated all to hell.”
“It’s the closest thing I could think of,” she replied. “But…let’s just forget about that right now.” An excited gleam started flooding onto her face as she asked, “So they’re done?”
I wave my arms to encompass the room. “You’re here, they left. What do you think?”
As she looks around the room, part of me wonders if I’m spoiling her rotten. All things aside – years included – she’s probably the same age as I am, at least mentally, and probably would take the idea as an insult. I’d hate to have her think of me as a sugar daddy or anything like that, not that I think she would. Besides, the smile on her face makes me think this is all worth it.
“I….” Her ears droop, and I suddenly realize something’s up. “Is there…any way to return this?” I’m floored by her sudden request and seeing it, she says, “I…I don’t deserve—”
“Stop,” I tell her, raising a hand. “I thought we agreed that when you let things go, you weren’t going to dwell on it.”
“But I—” She looks at the ground briefly, then looks back up at me. “I can’t ever repay you for all your kindness, North.”
I laugh. “Moon, do you realize how much that fire ruby you gave me was?” When she shook her head, I explain. “It’s only one of four on this planet! You could have bought about a dozen houses with that thing! Believe me, when I had it made into a jewel and saw the look on my mother’s face…it was worth it.”
“You mean that?”
“I wish I could show you,” I told her, meaning every moment of it as I looked into her rather striking eyes. Actually, that’s something I’ve never noticed before – that she has really beautiful eyes. Wonder why that slipped me?
“Moon?” I call out as I step into the door. Just got home from the Microsoft announcement up in Seattle, and the interesting offer I had from a couple of fellow guys in the business I know. Well, if nothing else, Cherry Bascome is a whiz in her field so I know if she means it, she’ll get it done, and as a senior editor, I wouldn’t have to travel as much which would be definitely great. I’ll have to seriously think about it.
I did take the time to stop at the Mariners gift shop at the airport. For some reason, since the day I got her that Atlanta Braves jersey on a whim, she pretty much dresses in nothing but those or t-shirts. I have to admit, they do look good on her, the dark of her fur contrasting against the co—
I pause for a second. That was the oddest thing that had entered my mind lately and I haven’t even run into her yet.
I see a dainty foreleg rise and wave in greeting. “Hi!” As I walk over, she’s lying on the couch, wearing a Hello Kitty t-shirt and cut-off jean shorts. She insisted that with the retirement of her armor and the realization that humans wear clothing, she was going to, as well. Thankfully, kids clothes fit her well with a few tweaks from her magic…but it’s kinda hard finding stuff that fits her tastes and her body. Luckily, both Spencers and Hot Topic sell kids’ shirts. As I walk up, she’s reading a book.
“Heya, dinner’s in the oven,” she says to me.
I smile; glad to know she’s been thinking about it. “Moon, you don—”
“I said I wasn’t going to be a freeloader, and I meant it,” she replies, closing the book and turning to face me. “Besides, we agreed that transmuting gold and gems would be too suspicious and I’m not sure how of any other methods to repay you.” Good thing she doesn’t know about counterfeiting, and I’m not about to tell her. “So the only thing I can do is chores around the house. Besides, it’s something I both need and want to do.”
“Oh?” I plop in the space next to her.
She nods. “I’m not a princess – Luna is. I’m a commoner, not a would-be dictator. And while I’m an alicorn, I…that shouldn’t make me better than anyone else. As far as I’m concerned, this goddess is retired.”
“So you went from god-emperor to housewife?” I ask. A thought comes to me about Moon, futzing about the house, all June Cleaver and shit, and for some reason, that doesn’t seem so weird.
“Uh-huh. Besides, I was helping around the house before I showed myself, so I’m familiar with the appliances already.” She then looks at me wickedly. “Plus, someone has to do the laundry around here, since you’re so bad at it.” She punctuates her jibe with a soft grin and then a nuzzle. Getting used to the latter from another sentient being is kinda odd, but I’m growing attached to it.
Getting up from my seat, I look at her and tell her that I’m going to change out of my suit and into something more casual; in turn, she makes a comment how she never wants me to change – I see she’s picked up that old joke – and that the pizzas should be ready in a couple and we can watch a movie.
Later that night, we’re debating as to what movie we’re going to watch, relaxing over pizzas – hey, I have to admit, she can really cook; I might end up a fatass from all the things she makes! – and beer, or apple cider in her case, since she hates brews. “Have any idea of what you want to watch tonight?” I ask her.
“Doesn’t matter to me,” she says, putting her head on my lap. She likes doing that, for some reason. Moon’s a very touchy-feely gal now that she’s opened up, and it doesn’t bother me entirely. Plus, I have to admit, it does feel nice having a familiar form there; Rachel always used to lie there when we watched movies and while I’m not comparing her to Moon, it just seems natural that she’s there.
Or maybe I’m just a chauvinist pig who likes having girls’ heads in my lap. I’ve no fucking clue.
Looking at the Netflix roster via my tablet, I ask her, “What about this one? I haven’t seen Legend since I was a kid.” I bring up the description and hold it out to her; a second later I feel a slight tug and the tablet’s glowing blue.
She reads the description, then gives me one of those looks. “Unicorns? Really?” I get the feeling this might not have been a good idea. “You do know that unicorns aren’t just horses with horns, right? Most of them are smaller than I am.” A pause, then: “Well, smaller than I was. I think I’m the size of an average mare, now.”
That’s a new one. “Really? You didn’t mention that before.”
She nods as she flicks the tablet back to me. “Alicorns tend to be much larger than the average pony, even though we’re still pretty small compared to what humans call ‘ponies’. In fact, the only pony that comes close to what you think of as a horse is Celestia and I’m not even sure she’s completely a good comparison,” she tells me.
“Fine, we won’t watch it, then.” To be honest, the only thing I really liked about it was Tim Curry’s awesome acting; really, it’s not one of Ridley Scott’s better films. I spend a few more minutes flicking through the catalog before I ask, “What about E.T.?”
“E.T.?” she asks, taking the tablet in hand? Hoof? Whatever; it sure wasn’t her magic this time. She looks over the story summary before saying with a grin, “Sure. I’m going to get another piece of pizza. Want one?”
“Sure,” I told her, “but won’t you need help carrying it?”
She gives me that duh look of hers and says, “Don’t worry: alicorn, remember?” And I feel a lack of weight on my legs as she gets up, then picks up the plates in her magical field, and walks back towards the kitchen. And as I’m watching her walk off, I’m caught by the way the stars in her tail flicker and flow, moving rhythmically to the sway of her back legs an—
I blink. Wait – was I just checking out Moon’s ass?
“No they wouldn’t,” I insist.
“I’ll protect myself, I swear, if I must!” she insists back.
“Moon, one, it’s just a film,” I tell her. “Two, don’t you think I would do everything I could to protect you?”
“But you saw what those guards did to that family, and all they were doing was trying to shield ET!” she cried. “And if humans are like that towards aliens, then imagine what they’ll do to me! And even if you defend me, they might hurt you, too!” She then laid her head back on my lap, looking up at me. “I’m not going to let them do that to me or you.”
I really don’t know what to say. On one hand, she’s overreacting; I really don’t know what humanity would do if they found out about her existence. Granted, E.T. was probably not the best movie to show, in hindsight, but I really don’t think it would be that bad. On the other hand, I really don’t know what to say about her comments that she’d do everything to protect both herself and me. I mean, that’s friendship right there, in a nutshell.
Finally, after a few more minutes, I insist that she’s overworried about things…though we agreed not to rock the boat and just not let her go out into public just yet. I’d be afraid to lose her, personally, and though I would do just about anything to make sure she’s safe, there’s a whole world out there making sure that might not be the case.
Rachel wasn’t too keen on having guns in the house, and I’ve never been one for them either. But as I watch the small, furry figure fall yawn and slightly doze to sleep in my lap? I really think it’s worth it.
Two days later, I’m out in Apple Valley at the Roy Rogers Shootin’ Range. The town takes its legacy of both apples and Roy Rogers seriously, and right now I’m here more for the latter. Fortunately, I’m not here alone.
“So, that’s the deal, North,” Charlene “Cherry” Bascome tells me as she lines up a pistol and readies to fire. “I’ll take Pub, you’ll have the EIC slot, and Mando, Avi, Kyoko, Max and Merlin’ll be the ground troops. As EIC, you won’t have to travel as much as the others, but you’ll probably get bogged down clearing their stories.” Before I can answer, she pulls the trigger repeatedly, firing bullets downrange, the tinny ring of the pistol loud enough to cut off my voice, though the hearing protectors she’s wearing probably help with that, too.
Figures – I come here to sign the contract to join up as Psifiakon Technon’s new editor-in-chief and my new boss – probably the only black woman in history that likes hunting and outdoors stuff – wants to meet at the shooting range to discuss business. Well, fortunately, I’ve known Cherry since our college days and she’s a consummate journalist…with some decidedly odd hobbies. She once admitted that if she wasn’t so good at the tech writing biz, her dream job would be publisher over at Field & Stream.
“So, who’s this Moon gal?” she asks the second she sets down the gun and we pull off our earmuffs. I swear, does she know my sister or something? But then Cherry flashes me a grin and says, “North, I overheard you talking to her in the background and heard her as well. Now, I know your sister’s name is Carrie, so I’m guessing that wasn’t her in the background, was it?”
“No, Moon—” I begin, but Cherry just shakes her head.
“North, you and I go back years, buddy. And I know Rachel’s death broke your heart. But you know what? In all the time since Rachel’s death, you’ve never mentioned another girl in your life, unless she’s related to you or someone that your kid sister’s trying to fix you up with. And now, all of a sudden, there’s this Moon girl in your life?” Clearly done with shooting, she removes her clip, pops the safety, and heads over to the table to put her gun in its case. “Look, you can deny it all you want, North, and frankly, that’s fine; only you can say when it’s time for you to really move on. But the way you were talking to Moon? You two sounded just the same way that you and Rachel used to.”
Huh?
Cherry gives me a sympathetic grin. “Don’t worry; I’ll keep it under my hat until you tell everyone.”
I’m in the middle of my dreams. And for the first time in a while, it’s a great one. I’m dreaming of my Rachel and we’re making love. It’s like I can feel her pressed against me, sharing everything that we had together and her voice promising that she’ll never let me go. And as I kiss her deeply and tell her that I love her more than anything, she says that she knows – and that I made the right decision. And as I pull her dark skin—
Wait. Dark skin? Rachel was as white as they come. And if that’s the case, then…?
The woman I’ve just made love to sits up, black, glistening skin and all. Wings are tucked in at her side, and other than the perfect body, she’s got the head of a unicorn and turquoise eyes that don’t quite look normal.
Moon whispers to me, “And you loved her as much as you love me,” before she leans down again for round two….
I sit up, sweating and the sheets are sticky and…. Fuck, I thought I grew out of this shit when I got married. I look at the clock, and it’s 2:30 in the morning. I get out of bed, and then throw myself in the shower for a few minutes – a cold shower.
The following morning was awkward, to say the least. Belgian waffles served with a side of I-ain’t-saying-shit.
“You’re awfully quiet this morning,” she says to me as a coffee cup floats daintily in the air, next to her head. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I just…uh, you didn’t peek in my dreams or anything, did you?”
She shook her head. “I don’t do those things anymore. Well, maybe if you were having a really bad nightmare, but you weren’t. I could tell that from where I was, and just let it be.” Suddenly her wings flare up, and she has a shocked look on her face.
Now it’s my turn. “Something up?”
“N-no-nothing!” she insists, blushing furiously, looking very flustered all of a sudden. I just look at her and finally, once she’s calmed her wings, she says, “I can sense the type of dream, and you were having a….” She says something in a tiny, barely audible voice.
“What was that?”
“Um…a loving dream,” she explains. “It causes certain habits in a body, and….” She paused, took a breath, and then said, “You know, I’m really uncomfortable talking about this. Can we talk about something else?”
“You look good,” I tell her, and she does: It’s Halloween evening and she’s in her old armor again. When I told her about my plan, she thought it was an absolutely horrible idea, but the fact that it let her get out of the house when people are all around was more than enough. I check the magical spell – a glamory, she called it – around me in the mirror and have to admit, I know some makeup guys at the studios that would kill to make things look this realistic. And as I look at the “Exposed Terminator” outfit I’m wearing, I’m betting Schwarzenegger himself didn’t look this awesome.
“I really don’t like this plan,” she says, the look in her eyes worried. “For starters, your neighbors know you don’t have a dog. And secondly, I really don’t like the idea of some dog poking his nose where it shouldn’t be – I’m not that kind of filly.”
I start to have second thoughts about this as well, but I did promise her and she wanted to do this at first. It’s only natural that both of us are starting to get cold feet. As we walk to the door, I look at her and say, “Don’t worry – I’ll be right here with you and even if we can’t talk to each other, I’m not leaving your side.”
«Don’t worry,» a voice suddenly sounds in my head. «I have it all covered.» I blink and just stare at her, and she in turn gives me a smile. «Just think of what you’re going to say; the spell will do the rest.»
Since most of my neighbors were out of town or taking their own kids around, and since nobody ever came by my house for trick-or-treating, it made things easier. A lot of the kids in the neighborhood were impressed by my Terminator costume, and more than a few were absolutely amazed by the “winged unicorn costume” I put on my dog. I saw a flash of annoyance in Moon’s eyes, but she kept her mouth shut. Instead, she transmitted, «I thought dogs were generally smaller here on Earth.»
«They are, but they probably think you’re one of the super-sized breeds like a Great Dane or Australian Cattle Dog.» A very assholish thought comes into my mind and I can’t help but say, «Don’t worry, if they ask I’ll just tell them you’re a Subcontinental Einhorn.»
«A what?» When I explain that historically unicorns were believed to have come from India, she just gives me a long, penetrating stare. «You have got unicorns on the brain,» she tells me.
The night was a success, to say the least. While most people didn’t bother with Moon because they thought she was a dog, the younger children absolutely loved her. And while she remained wordless, she gave plenty of nuzzles and kisses to the boys and girls of the town, in return for receiving hugs and kisses from the young children in return. One mother in particular looked at me and said, “That’s the most well-behaved dog I’ve ever seen – and the costume’s good, too.”
“Thanks,” I tell her. “Friend of mine works at Warner Bros. and helped me make the costume for her. And as for her, she’s by far the best behaved pet that I’ve ever had. It’s practically like having a roommate.”
«You are so going to pay for that,» she says in my mind, and I can somehow feel the laughter in that telepathic voice.
«Tell you what: I’ll pick you up some pumpkin spice cheesecake from Sugar Pine tomorrow. Would that work?» I ask.
«Woof woof and woof,» she replies back and favors me with a grin.
“Hey mister – why can your dog smile?”
There’s gotta be something wrong with me. This is the third night in a row that I’ve thought of…well, with Moon after starting off with Rachel and tonight, it was just with Moon outright. And two things are coming to me: one, when did I get so interested in furries? And two, I really hope this isn’t what I think it is.
I mean, I love Rachel, I always will – and my heart tears out every time I think about what I’ve lost and what we could have had. But then I see a pair of worried turquoise eyes, and somehow they’re all just for me, and I know it.
Besides, she’s not human. And even if I wanted to – Moon is not human. I have no idea what their relationships are like; for all I know it could be like a praying mantis and as soon as I knock her up, she’ll lop my head off and eat my body an—
Stop, just fucking stop, I tell myself. Moon isn’t like that and you know it. She’s the sweetest, kindest, girl you’ve….
I pause and sit up in bed. I get up and walk out of my room, then peek into hers. She’s dozing, the sheets of her bed rhythmically rising and falling in tune with her breath. And as I watch her, I realize something. Something that others did before I did:
When did I start falling for this alien girl – mare, woman, whatever – and why did everyone else notice it before me? The revelation is stunning, to say the least. Rachel and I…we weren’t love at first sight. We actually didn’t start dating until about three months after we met, and it was three months after that when we realized we had something. But with Moon…it just…“happened.”
But as I walk back to my bedroom, my mind starts clouding with a jumble of thoughts: when did I start this? Am I really falling for her? What if it’s just a rebound? I would never want to hurt her like that, as she’s a sensitive girl…nevermind the fact that she probably has enough magic at her disposal that she could probably split an atom with just a thought. But she’d never do that to me. I’m the only friend in the world that she has.
A friend who could break her heart if he makes a mistake, I realize.
Clicking the alarm clock/mini stereo system, I hit the switch and the glitchy, jazzy sounds of Flying Lotus fills the air. Met the guy once in an interview I did for Phunqi magazine; got him to autograph a copy of Los Angeles for me. As the air fills with the song “Robertaflack”, I realize that’s the wrong tune to be listening to right now.
Am I falling in love with Moon?
Can I love Moon?
“Are we allowed to make brand new beginnings?” indeed.
A second after I lie down in bed, I feel a gentle nudge against my arm and a pair of softly glowing eyes looking at me. Anyone else would be freaked out by such a sight in the darkness of evening, but to me, seeing those expressive aqua eyes is a comfort, a balm. “You okay?” she asks.
“Yeah, can’t sleep,” I tell her. “First day starting the new job tomorrow and we’re all physically meeting in the offices down in Century City. New job jitters, I guess.” That’s true enough.
She looks at me again, and, from the tilt of her eyes, I can tell she’s thinking. A second later she says, “Scoot over.”
“Moon, you don’t….”
“I want to,” she says. “Besides, you need a hug, and I need my beauty sleep, okay?”
“Thought you were a goddess of the night?” I ask her.
“Retired goddess,” she points out, then leaps over me, hopping into the other side of the bed. I can hear the rustling of the sheets as she climbs in, then the silky touch of her wing over me as she whispers, “Now get some sleep, okay? Long day tomorrow.”
It’s probably the best sleep I’ve had in nights.
That thought alone really worries me.
“So how’s…?” Cherry asks me once the meeting with the staff concludes. While I’ll have an office here, I’ll probably do most of my work at home. We have a small staff working here in Technon’s offices: the sales staff; the webmasters and IT gal; and Cherry, who hates teleworking. Everyone else will be from remote – probably the only reason why we can afford office space in one of the most expensive districts in La-la-land. Well, that and Cherry’s got serious connections.
“With Moon?” I ask, and she nods. “I think…well, I think I am.”
“Hey, congrats!” she tells me. “Planning to bring her around the office sometime?”
“When I can convince her to,” I tell my friend and boss, knowing the truth is somewhere between when hell freezes over and fuck never. “Besides, I don’t know how she feels.”
“North, I told you how you talk about her. I bet if I meet her, within five minutes she’d tell me that she’s met the man of her dreams.”
“Well, I can assure you she’s an expert on dreams,” I mutter off-handedly; thankfully, Cherry thinks that’s a joke.
“But bet that within a year, you two will be golden. I can see that train coming a mile away, let me tell you.”
“If you insist,” I tell her. But the truth is, I don’t even know if my feelings are genuine, much less if she feels the same way. Plus, there’s the obvious – it’s borderline bestiality and I say borderline because she’s not an animal. Or rather, she is, much in the same way that humans are technically animals as well.
Why the fuck am I even thinking about all this?
“You sure? You don’t have to do this,” she tells me. “If this Thanksgiving thing is important, then you should go be with your family.”
I shake my head. “No, I’m fine right here, Moon,” I tell her as I check the tofurkey – I really hope I’m not going to regret cooking that. But it’s Thanksgiving and nobody should be alone, not even cute horse-shaped alien girls. And while I can’t bring her with me to see my family, I can – and did – tell my parents that I couldn’t make it this year because I was caught missing a flight back to the LA area from a meeting. That was almost true; I didn’t make it back to Ontario until nine last night; flight from Chicago was nearly delayed due to a snowstorm there. Still, I’d already set my mind on doing this for her and me and I wasn’t about to change my mind.
“You sure there’s nothing I can do?” she asks. She’s currently dressed herself in a blouse and skirt and done her mane up a little like Audrey Hepburn. Ever since she found out I was sucker for those old Hepburn films, she went and got herself a more formal wardrobe for special occasions like tonight. I’ve no idea where the pearl necklace she’s wearing came from, though.
“Other than watching crappy Thanksgiving specials or football? Not really. Just relax and enjoy me doing the cooking for a change.”
“You know, you really know how to spoil a filly,” she tells me.
“Hey, I was married – I had to learn somewhere,” I remind her.
I learned a few things about dinner tonight. The first is that the old saying is true: Do Not Eat the Tofurkey. The second is that Moon looks incredibly beautiful tonight. Sitting there, sipping from the wine I bought to go with – actually, drown – the tofurkey, we talked about a billion things. I told her about previous turkey days with my family, especially the infamous Thanksgiving of 1998, where the turkey Grandma bought somehow went bad the morning of, and we ended all ordering buckets of KFC that night.
She in turn tells me a bunch of stories of her childhood and what she remembers of that time. Then she gets sad, claiming that those were Luna’s memories and that she never really had any because she didn’t exist back then. Then I told her that was bullshit, that she was a living breathing person and that even if she wasn’t a separate being at the time, she was still a part of Luna and she had as much right to those memories as that other alicorn did.
Which brings me to the last thing I learned tonight: nothing cheers up a saddened alicorn like pumpkin pie, gingerbread lattes and a headrub. And as she falls asleep in my lap again, I realize something about her:
I am falling for her, and maybe if I’m going to hell for it…this time, I’m willing to live with myself. Now I just have to be very careful not to break the heart of the girl who’s both my roommate and my closest friend.
With a soft flap of her wings, she floats up and puts the star on top of the Christmas tree. “So, I’ve been reading up about this Christmas,” she says to me as she lands back on the ground, “and it reminds me a lot of Hearth’s Warming, which is a holiday that we used to celebrate around this time as well. Though it’s quite a bit different,” she admitted. “On the surface, however, there are a lot of things that are the same.”
“Such as?” I ask, thinking of how adorable she looks in her Christmas sweater. Unfortunately, the sweatpants? Not so much, but then again, winter’s going to kick in next week, and jeans don’t fit her frame too well. And I’ve got to realize that isn’t helping my case any. It’s already hard enough dealing with these uneasy feelings; these past few weeks, especially since Thanksgiving, have given me a lot of time to think about things – probably too much time, if you ask me.
I look over at the doorway, and the mistletoe I placed up there. Normally, it’s just tradition – though Rachel and I made plenty of use of said tradition. It’s one of those things that I both hope and dread Moon ever finding out the meaning of.
Maybe it’s just the way things are: a year ago, my life was empty and my path was set – self-enforced solitude for eternity. And then Moon appeared and my life has been completely upside-down since, but in a good way. And now, this.
Maybe I should stop thinking about it. Why rock the boat?