//------------------------------// // Spa // Story: Braiding // by Admiral Biscuit //------------------------------// Chapter 3: Spa Admiral Biscuit We spent the rest of the afternoon kind of re-establishing boundaries. It was hard to explain, but we'd both gone through something which was psychologically traumatic, and needed time to work things out in our minds. Neither of us said much, and it was better that way. I made a quick lunch—nothing special, but enough to fill both our bellies. When I went to wash the dishes, Rose stepped outside, saying that she had to weed the flowers. I doubt that was true—I can't imagine that she'd checked them in the morning and failed to do so—but I let her have her little excuse. It was just as well; I needed a bit of alone time to unwind, myself, and doing the dishes was a nice mundane task which required no mental engagement whatsoever. I'd finished by the time she came back in, and had wiped off the kitchen table and counter as well, just for good measure. “Are they weed free?” She nodded eagerly. “Is . . . do you think your laundry is dry? I could help you with it.” I glanced towards the back door thoughtfully. “Or . . . I could get it myself.” She swished her tail, and glanced back at it. I smiled—I wondered how that must feel to her? It wouldn't be moving the way she was used to. “Because you . . . don't have shorts, and it's outside.” “Are there any other ponies near my backyard?” She shook her head. “I didn't see any when I was in the flowerbed.” I could go upstairs and get my robe, or wrap my blanket around myself. I looked back at her neatly-braided tail, and I wondered how she'd felt when I did it. How would I have felt, if I'd had a tail? How much trust would I have had to put in a friend—a close friend—to have her hands back there? I wouldn't have liked it at all; I'd probably have been practically trembling in fear. “Okay.” The funny thing about favors between friends was that the ledger never added up. It shouldn't. Before I could think myself out of it, I grabbed the laundry basket and pushed the back door open. I'm not so prideful to claim that I wouldn't have slammed it back shut if I had seen some pony looking over the fence. But Rose hadn't been lying; there was no one about. And taking laundry back off the line was a fairly quick affair—pull off a pair of clothespins, put it in the basket, repeat as needed. No problem. Rose followed me out the door, her movements a lot more certain than mine. I kept the laundry basket in front of me like a wicker shield, and headed for the furthest end of the clothesline. I tossed clothes and pins alike into the basket, since I'd be sorting them once I got inside. Rose stood beside me, one ear roving and the other staying focused on me. I couldn't help but wonder if she was feeling useless at her inability to help—I'd hung the line to suit me, and it was beyond what an earth pony could reach. It didn't take long before I was back inside. Once I'd put the first pair of shorts on the counter to fold, Rose sprang into action, reaching into the basket and lifting out clothes with her mouth, and dropping the clothespins in their box. I tried not to laugh the first time she came up with a pair of panties in her mouth, but I couldn't. She'd grabbed them by the waistband, and the expression on her face reminded me of a puppy sitting in the middle of the shredded remains of a couch with an innocent look on its face. Naturally, she didn't get it, and her questioning eyebrows just made it funnier. I took the panties and set them on the counter, but it was too late. I already had the giggles, and they weren't going to go away any time soon. And poor Rose just didn't get it. •        •        • We spent the first half of the afternoon in the backyard, just reading. When we'd put away my clothes, Rose had noticed that I had a Daring Do book she hadn't read yet—it was the one I was currently reading, but I loaned it to her anyway, and took a different book from the set. Like Nancy Drew, there wasn't a particular continuity to the set. Daring did seem to learn from one adventure to the next, but it wasn't like Harry Potter where one story naturally directly followed the other. She lay on the blanket with the book between her forehooves, and I sat more upright. Lying on my belly and reading seemed like a great idea in theory, but in practice, it got uncomfortable pretty quickly. I was midway through Daring's escape from the temple when my leg cramped up again. I muttered some curses under my breath at it, and shifted position on the blanket. Rose turned her ears in my direction, but kept looking at her book. I thought she hadn't noticed, but a moment later, she put the ribbon between the pages and turned to me. “Your leg isn't better.” “I know. I'll be fine.” “You should go to the spa. You can sit in the hot tub, and that will relax the muscles, and then if you're not feeling better, Lotus or Aloe can give you a massage.” I can't afford it, I thought. My bits were rationed carefully—I didn't have steady work, and I needed to save money for some warm clothes in the winter. Private spa time was expensive. Once I saved up enough to buy a hot water heater, I'd have my own home spa; until then, I'd just have to do without. “I'll be fine, Rose. This just happens sometimes.” “I don't like seeing a pony—person—suffer. Nopony does. You need this.” “It's fine.” The pain in my calf put a lie to my words, and I unconsciously leaned forward to knead the muscle. “It's . . . it's a human thing.” “Don't be stubborn.” Rose glared at me, a slight flash of anger crossing her green eyes. “Aloe and Lotus will give us a good price.” “I—“ I couldn't think of a single excuse which wouldn't sound hollow. “Please. You made me lunch—“ “That was nothing.” “—and braided my mane and tail.” “And you weeded my flowerbeds and helped me put away my clothes.” “I just. . . .” She looked away from me, and fixed her gaze on my fence. “I don't like seeing you in pain. It's not right.” Her voice got quieter as she continued, until she was speaking almost in a whisper. “I'll pay—and if you want a private tub, I can pay for that, too.” “Rose.” I had a distinct memory of my mother and grandmother sparring over who would do the dishes—not who was forced to, but who had a better reason to. It was like a weird reverse-obligation, and I felt like I ought to be enough of an adult to understand, but I really didn't. “I am not going to the spa on your dime—your bits.” •        •        • “Two,” Rose told Aloe. “And can we get a private tub?” “No.” I wasn't going to give her this victory. “We'll take a public tub.” Conflicting emotions went across Rose's face. On the one hand, she'd just saved a lot of bits, and like most of the ponies in this town, she was fairly miserly when it came to that. On the other hand, she was sure I wasn't quite ready. “Are you certain?” “Yes.” I nodded my assent. I can keep my panties on. I'll get some stares because I don't have a cutie mark, but I can live with that. Rose took the pencil in her mouth and signed the ledger. Most ponies didn't carry their bits around with them, so the last few days of each lunar cycle were reserved for paying off debits and collecting payments. Aloe glanced between Rose and I, but didn't say a word. I let Rose lead me to the communal hot tub. I'd hoped it would be empty, but of course that wasn't the case. A stallion sat by himself on one side of the tub, while two pairs of mares were opposite. I am sure there is a social rule about how close the mares can sit to the stallion, I thought. With significant, but unspoken, variations. Of course there weren't any changing rooms. It stood to reason that Aloe and Lotus would expect their clients to show up nude, and I was undoubtedly a constant thorn in their side as far as that went. So I just gritted my teeth and unbuttoned my pants, sliding them down my legs with my eyes closed. I half-heartedly folded them and put them on a bench, then nodded at Rose. Of course, all eyes were on us. The quiet conversations had stopped the moment I showed up, and they had yet to resume. Five pairs of eyes were locked on me as I followed Rose to the deck surrounding the tub. I kept my head down, not wanting to see their stares. Rose was slightly downcast, and I wondered if I'd been unfair to her. The gossip machine in Ponyville might be gearing up for an all-night session: Rose had her mane and tail braided, and was with me at the spa. But there was no way out, now. We'd committed to our course, and we had to see it through. I let Rose get it the tub first, and wade over to a bench. The mares clustered closer together, but kept their distance. I paid them little mind; my very existence caused all sorts of havoc on their typical social structures. I followed Rose into the soothingly warm water—which was only deep enough to just cover my panties—and followed her across to a seat. I stretched my arms over the edge of the tub and slid down as far as I could, until just my head was above the water. “Do you have hot tubs?” The 'on Earth' wasn't said, but implied. “Yes.” I nodded. Rose seemed satisfied with the answer. I stretched my legs out, letting the heat work its magic on them. The water had a slightly mineral smell to it, but it was different than my tap water at home. I wasn't sure if that was the heat, or if the spa used different water than the rest of Ponyville. They probably added salts to it or something. I let my eyes wander over the room. It wasn't much of a crowd—there were the seven of us in the tub, a couple mares laying on chaise lounges while Lotus worked on them—and that was it. Rose's earlier reluctance to tail-braiding seemed oddly out of place as I watched Lotus put curlers in a mare's tail. She didn't get all twitchy . . . but then again, it was probably a regular experience for her. I dug at my memory to remember who she was. I'd seen her around town before, and she had a stall which sold something. It wasn't a food staple, of that I was sure, even if she was an earth pony. Her companion, a mint-green unicorn, noticed that I was staring, and pointed a hoof in my direction, before looking back down at the newspaper she was reading. “Sam?” “Rose.” I focused on the mare next to me. “Do your clothes protect you from the water?” “No.” She nodded. “It just covers you, and that's all?” “Yeah.” She fell silent, thinking over the concept. Two of the mares got up and waded across the tub, climbed out, and began drying each other off. The stallion watched them with vague interest before glancing back at me. I gave him a small smile, and then looked back at Rose. She had her eyes closed, and a look of pure contentment on her face. She had the right idea. I sat up slightly higher in my seat, and looked back at the stallion. He smiled politely, but didn't say anything. This would be easier with a bottle of wine. I hooked my hands in the waistband of my panties, and before I could re-think my plan, I slid them down to my ankles. The stallion looked at me curiously, but didn't budge from his spot, nor did he look down in the hopes of getting a glance through the water. Rose didn’t notice, either. The feeling was weird. I felt vulnerable—but at the same time, I felt invulnerable, as if I'd managed a trick so great, nobody knew they'd been fooled. I pulled my panties off my legs and balled them in a hand. I am making progress.