Peppermint
When I woke up the next morning, my new room mate hadn't killed me.
It was a good start.
Gretchen was curled up in a ball on her cot, clutching her guitar case. I couldn't imagine it was very comfortable, but I got the feeling it was a habit from the streets.
The shower had done her a lot of good. Her feathers had an almost iridescent sheen to them and she had a long, tawny tail that was actually yellow, not brown. Her case was battered and honestly she was too. I could see a few scars running down her rear...
I'm not sure I wanted to know where those came from.
I yawned and reached for my hormones, slipping a pill under my tongue to dissolve. Then I hopped out of my bed and went for the shower. I sighed when I saw feathers in the drain.
After yanking them out one by one I eyed them, curious. Maybe somewhere in the world griffon feathers were a super potent alchemical ingredient. Maybe I could pay for surgery with what was in my hooves!
I sniffed at them. They were moldy. I sighed and dumped them in the trash. I was just fooling myself, and being greedy. She had already saved my life, it's not like I needed more.
I turned on the hot water and looked down at a region I had a very confusing relationship with. It was weird. I had loved what hormone replacement therapy had done to my curves and even my orchidectomy was met with glee, but full bottom surgery was a bit of an uncertainty for me.
I wanted a vulva, I desperately wanted to be penetrated properly... But it all seemed so final.
I poked at my empty scrotum with a smile. Maybe I was overthinking things, I did that a lot. Besides, barring winning the lottery it wasn't something I needed to think about any time soon. I finished up my shower and turned my thoughts to more pressing matters, like how to deal with my guest.
When I got to my bed (it took all of three steps, I'd had a major apartment downgrade when I moved here) I looked over at Gretchen. She looked kind of adorable curled up like that...
But she did just come off the streets.
I was questioning my charity already. What if I left and she stole all my stuff (not that I had anything really valuable, but still), what if she ate all my food? What if she peed everywhere? She was part cat right? She might do that?
I shook myself. This hen had saved my life. I needed to give her the benefit of the doubt. I reached for my end table and pulled out a notepad and quill.
Dear Gretchen, I'm off to work for the day, but I should be back by eight. I work at Glass Bit Pizza so I won't be far. There are snacks in the refrigerator.
I thought for a moment, chewing the end of my quill, then continued. I have a spare key under my mattress if you need to go out. Thank you again, Peppermint
#
As per usual, I arrived at work early to change. I slipped out of my dress and tied my mane back so it wouldn't get into anything. Then I donned my glass bit vest.
I admit, if there was anything about this job that really irked me it was the dress code. It made perfect sense honestly. If you worked with food you needed to have your hair tied up so it wouldn't flop onto the customers' plates and you didn't want to wear a dress because flowing dresses could trip you up and get stuck in ovens. You also couldn't wear makeup as if it flaked off... You get the picture.
It was rational, and definitely not malicious, but it did mean that whenever I was at work I was basically in boymode, despite being a mare full time.
I eyed my overly masculine bone structure in the staff room mirror. It was annoying, but it sure beat unemployment. I hopped upstairs.
My manager, Struck Chord gave me a smirk. He wasn't the most talkative guy in the world, but he had a good heart. Working with him were Rough Rider, a plump zebra mare, and a tall earth pony stallion named Whose Line.
Struck's black coat showed off a cutie mark of a guitar. Rough had a wrestling ring on her flank (unusual for a zebra glyph, I know) and Whose had a microphone.
For the record, I had a pen and paper on my flank. You didn't end up working at the Bit because you'd aced your special talent.
I went to the dough pounding table and Whose followed me. "You look pretty rough Pepper. Too much sauce last night?"
I rolled my eyes. "You know I don't drink Whose."
He snorted. "You don't drink, you don't smoke, do you have any vices?"
"Sometimes I only let one homeless griffon sleep on my couch."
He laughed, "You're a riot Peppy."
#
Gretchen
I admit, I started a bit when I woke up.
I stared at my surroundings, the events of last night slowly pouring back into my memory. There was a note on the door.
I had to read it twice. She wanted me to stay... To stay stay?
The street part of me was instantly suspicious. What was her angle? What did she have to gain by helping me?
I thought over the events of last night. She only said I was her room mate to get the cops off me. It wasn't like I was some fairy tale Princess Charming who'd swooped in to save the day.
I eyed the room warily. She didn't look like she had a griffon fetish, but I'd been wrong before. Besides it seemed like a lot of effort to hire an actor to beat her up to get me to save her... And then bribe the cops to lock the actor up...
Okay, so she wasn't trying to pull anything. Was it really just gratitude?
A darker thought occurred to me. Maybe she was scared.
Someone had just tried to rape her that wasn't something easy to deal with. Maybe she didn't want to be all alone. Maybe I was just a guard dog.
I gripped my guitar case. I wasn't nopony's minion and I definitely wasn't a charity case. If little miss Peppermint wanted me here then I was damn well going to earn my way. I dug up the spare key, threw on my guitar case and headed outside.
Three minutes later, I went back inside and ate three sandwiches out of her fridge. Then I got to work.