The next day, Vinyl trotted down the street towards Moosebuck Coffee and her appointed meeting with Octavia. The warm yellow summer sun was out and Vinyl smiled to herself.
Octavia. Octavia. Octavia. Vinyl rolled the name around inside her head, savoring the unspoken feeling of it on her mental tongue. 'Octavia.' It sounds... complicated. A complicated name for a sophisticated filly who has good taste in mares (me) and with a lustrious flank capable of inducing hypnosis in even the most worldly of DJs. And I've got a date with her! Wait no it's not a date it's just coffee and not a date no definitely no so let's not get ahead of ourselves here. Just... two neighbors, enjoying a cuppa-cuppa together. Only that and nothing more.
But still. This Octavia filly? She was just about Vinyl's perfect mare.
Well, Vinyl had several perfect mares: the skinny punk-indie club filly in black with half her mane back and piercings and rebellious, aggressive eyes full of frustrations she needed to work out who would grab Vinyl off the dance floor, kick open the back door of the club, shove her up against the wall of the alley and then-
And the cute little grocery clerk who would tell Vinyl that they had some more of what Vinyl was looking for in the back if she wanted to get some, and she would link her tail with Vinyl's and push through the swinging doors into the stock room and then turn fierce and grab Vinyl and sit her up on a cardboard box and then-
And the tall, stern, high-powered executive with her mane up in a severe bun who would send a fancy carriage for Vinyl and whisk her up to a penthouse apartment and try to bluster Vinyl and tell Vinyl she ought to sit down and be a good little filly and put on the saddle but Vinyl would grin in a predatory way and turn the tables and push her down onto an expensive couch and peel her out of her business jacket and then-
And the rough and tumble outdoorsy one who would take her hiking into the foresty mountains and on shaky legs they would bathe in a cold mountain stream to wash the sweat from their bodies and then, hundreds of miles from civilization and dripping wet, they would find a bed of soft pine branches and then-
Octavia was the glamorous one who would take her out to a classy restaurant and order wine with a perfect accent and then, eyes smoldering at Vinyl from over the single candle at their little table, lecture her on art and literary theory and global socioeconomics until Vinyl was all flustered and Octavia was out of breath and they would both leap up and dash to the restroom just as their food arrived and slam the door shut and ram the bolt shut and Vinyl would push Octavia against the counter and then-
Vinyl paused on the sidewalk to press the back of her hoof to her forehead and blow out a long sigh. No. No, just stop. Reality was never like a fantasy, unlike all those narrow little red romance novels which Vinyl definitely did not buy and if she did it was as a joke. Vinyl was just going to have accept whoever this Octavia filly really was, flaws and all, and not expect her to act like Vinyl's personal perfect fantasy mare. No dates. No fancy restaurants. No passion in the restroom. That will never happen, Vinyl told herself.
* *
Vinyl pushed open the big glass door to Moosebuck coffee. The place was made of bright sunny windows and rustic-looking wood and had little polished tables with red-and-black plaid cushions for ponies to sit on, like it was some big north woods cabin. Ponies sat alone or in pairs, chattering with each other and/or snacking on tasty cookies or deliciously flaky pastries. Almost everypony had coffee. They had good coffee here. No surprise Octavia liked this place, too!
Octavia. Where is she? Vinyl scanned the shop until she saw the mare herself raising a hoof to Vinyl, ears perked up and bright eyes smiling, happy just to see Vinyl. Octavia had scored a table right in the center of the floor which was one of the good tables you always wanted because it was easily accessible from two sides. The tables near the walls were a little cramped and it was sometimes hard to get in and out of them. It was a relief to see Octavia had somehow managed to get one of the nice tables. Vinyl pulled up a plaid cushion.
Octavia had a small plate of cookies in the center of the table. But not just any cookies: cinnamon oatmeal cookies. Vinyl's mouth instantly started watering.
"Oh, sweetness. Cookies, oatmeal ones! I love these!"
"Oh, do you? How strange, they're my favorite, too!" Octavia smiled in delight.
"Can I...?"
Octavia pushed the plate over towards Vinyl and Vinyl floated one up and, with no manners or preamble whatsoever, just jammed it right into her mouth. Om! The sweet and heavily cinnamony flavor rolled over her tongue into her throat up into the back of her brain and Vinyl groaned in wanton pleasure. "Mmm... sooo goood!" Vinyl swallowed and immediately reached to the plate for another cookie before realizing herself and glancing at Octavia.
Octavia had a little smile on her face, watching Vinyl eat, and gestured with her hoof as if to say 'no, go ahead.'
Vinyl needed no further encouragement and stuck a second cookie in her mouth, savoring the still-warm sugary sweet softness of its oaty center. This was bliss, this was heaven. A cookie in your mouth and the only thing that would make it better would be-
There was a clink and Vinyl opened her eyes to see a barista departing. A barista who had left a cold glass of milk on the table. Vinyl's eyes went wide and round.
"This was going to be for me, Vinyl, but I can see you need it far more than I." Octavia slid the glass of milk over towards Vinyl with a dark hoof.
Tears of gratitude bubbled in Vinyl's eyes as she took a swallow of milk. The contrast of cold milk with the residual cookie-warmth in her throat was profoundly satisfying, as well as the faint feeling of the two hot and cold mixing down in her stomach.
This is already the best coffee-meet ever, thought Vinyl. "This is already the best coffee-meet ever."
Octavia's little smile grew and she tapped her hooves together in pleasure. "I'm so glad to hear that!"
Vinyl bit into a third cookie, savoring it and sighing in contentment.
"I wonder if it means something," pondered Octavia, "that we share such interest in treats."
Vinyl shrugged. She spoke around a cookie. "Oatmeal cookies are objectively the best cookies. It just means you're a reasonable pony to recognize their awesomeness."
Octavia nodded in agreement. She reached a hoof down to the plate and took a cookie and slowly brushed it against her lips. She gently took the edge of it into her mouth, lips working against the body of the cookie as she slowly but firmly used her tongue to tease the edge off of the soft, warm cookie.
Vinyl watched her carefully.
Octavia chewed slowly and pointed a hoof at Vinyl's lower abdomen.
Vinyl quickly looked down. Octavia was actually gesturing at the milk on the table. Vinyl slid the glass over to her.
Octavia swallowed her mouthful of cookie. "Thank you."
Vinyl picked up a fourth cookie, glancing between it and Octavia. Am I being a glutton? Am I enjoying these cookies too much? She considered for a fraction of a second before dismissing the idea. Enjoying cookies too much? Impossible.
Vinyl glanced at Octavia and her eyebrow twitched. Had Octavia just rotated the glass of milk so she was drinking from the same spot Vinyl had? That would be a little weird. But Vinyl couldn't get a clear view of the glass. Anyway, what did it matter. Cookies were good. She bit deeper into her fourth oatmeal cookie. Mmmm! Cookies!
After a minute or two, all the cookies were gone. Then Vinyl remembered her manners. Was she being rude? She reached for her money, fishing a bit or two out of her little pouch. "Should I...?"
Octavia held out a forestalling hoof. "No, no. Please. It's my pleasure."
Vinyl stopped and put her hooves back on the table. It's only a bit or two, nothing to worry about. She sighed in relaxation, delicious, delicious cookies swimming in her stomach.
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment.
"So..." Vinyl made a sigh of total contentment and flipped a lazy hoof. "What do you do?"
Octavia raised an eyebrow, not understanding for a moment. "Oh! My employment. Yes. My apologies. My name is Octavia Melody-Philharmonica."
Vinyl nodded, grinning. "Yeah, and I'm Vinyl Scratch, also known as DJ PON-3."
"Yes, I hadn't heard of you."
Oh, was I supposed to have heard of her? "So...?"
"I'm a musician in the Royal Canterlot Symphony," she explained.
"Ah. That's... good, right?"
"Yes, as far as symphonies go it's really rather good. Certainly the best in Equestria. I'm rather well-known in certain circles."
Vinyl puffed up her chest. "Yep, you probably heard of DJ PON-3 before, you know, somewhere before. That's me, by the way." She thrust a hoof at her own chin and grinned.
Octavia smiled politely. "I'm terribly sorry to say I really hadn't heard of you."
Vinyl's grin turned brittle and she deflated. She quickly shrugged it off. "Eh, that's fine. Not everypony's hooked into the latest and greatest." Not heard of DJ PON-3? Impossible! Where's this mare from? The moon? Nopony hasn't heard of the DJ!
Octavia was getting up off of her cushion. She looked down at Vinyl. "Now you stay right there and don't move at all. I'm going to get us some coffees, alright?" She grinned down at Vinyl.
"Sure."
Octavia leaned in, nose nearly within nuzzling range of Vinyl. Vinyl's eyebrows went up in surprise. Wow, she's close!
Octavia smiled sweetly. "Don't. Move."
"S-sure thing."
She turned with a bright smile and trotted towards the shop counter.
Vinyl watched Octavia go, staring openly and shamelessly. Sweet celery stalks! That flank...!
Vinyl marveled at it, watching Octavia rear up at the counter and put her hooves up on the counter's surface to point something out to a barista.
Yes, oh yesss, those are some seriously well-developed muscles in her hindquarters! Did she say she was a musician? What does that mean? Does it mean she's on her back legs all day? Standing? Geeze, that must be a work-out. I mean, an outrageous flank like this is beyond normal earth pony shapeliness. Those are the kind of legs that'll break your neck if you're not careful.
Octavia returned, carefully balancing on her head a small cardboard holder with two coffees in it. She lowered her head to the table, sliding the cardboard holder onto the table.
She looked through her lashes up at Vinyl and spoke in a low tone.
"You take it sweet, don't you."
'I take it however you give it to me' almost fell out of Vinyl's mouth. "Um," was what she actually said. "Yes. Please. Thank you."
Octavia returned to her red-and-black cushion with one of the coffees.
Vinyl took the remaining coffee and let it sit on the table in front of her. Vinyl idly turned the coffee around and around in front of her, touching the too-hot sides of it with the tips of her hooves, waiting for it to cool. Did her cheeks have color in them? Was she blushing inappropriately? Must not let Octavia know my lewd inner thoughts. Don't screw this up, V. A classy mare like this is probably more than a little prudish. Can't let her know I want to-
"I like it how you like it, Vinyl- hot and sweet. And I don't like to wait."
Okay, that could mean anything. Vinyl glanced up at Octavia.
Octavia ran the tip of her hoof around the rim of her coffee cup. Her orchid-colored eyes were smoldering, staring straight at Vinyl, somehow making eye contact directly through Vinyl's lenses.
Vinyl gulped hard.
Octavia's eyes cleared and she smiled innocently. "I mean my coffee, of course!"
Vinyl let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. "Shyeah. Of course." She laughed nervously. Was I imagining things or what? Am I blushing? Crickets, I'm sure I'm blushing now. Curse this pale coat, it hides nothing! Keep it cool, V.
"So," began Octavia, "Ms. DJ PON-3. What precisely does a DJ PON-3 do?"
"Well, I, uh," Vinyl's brain rattled as it shifted several mental gears over, "Um, I compose music, though probably not like you'd think of it. I also play music live."
"Oh, really? How do you do it?"
"I don't use like a quill or paper and dot out a series of notes. I compose on a computer. It's, like, really complex and you need a lot of expensive software to get started."
Octavia tipped her head to the side. "Wow, that sounds hard."
Vinyl nodded and sighed. "Yeah, it can be. But I'm pretty good at it. I got all the best hardware in my music room, top of the line programs and stuff. I typically got a little arrangement with equipment manufacturers going where I get to demo out their hardware before it even gets to market."
Octavia's eyes twinkled. "Mmm. Tell me about your work."
Vinyl grinned and kicked back on her seat. "How much time you got?"
Octavia touched the rim of her coffee cup, eyes sparkling at Vinyl. "I'm all yours," she said. And smiled.
Vinyl looked off into the air and tapped her chin with the tip of her hoof. "Alright, so where to begin? I guess it all started at a concert where I saw my first keytar and sat so close to the stage I went deaf for three days..."
* * *
Their coffees were long gone and Vinyl was still talking. Octavia had propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hooves. Octavia nodded periodically and pursed her lips ever so often, tipping her head slightly from side to side as if in thought. Occasionally she would stop Vinyl and repeat back something Vinyl had said using different words in a questioning tone. Vinyl would smile and nod rapidly and explain further to her. Octavia would nod slightly and look up at the ceiling, apparently lost in deep understanding.
Vinyl loved talking about her work. Vinyl's work wasn't actually really work, it was her passion. There was absolutely nothing better than stepping onto that live stage in the club, kicking in the bass, and just plain making everypony jump and lose themselves, have the crowd in her hoof, making them dance, and their energy feeding back into her and making her spin. It was a symbiotic thing, where you shared power, the power that connected every pony to everyone else, that made them all work as one. That's what Vinyl did on the floor, up in the DJ booth. She worked magic. That was what real magic was, in the club, on the dancefloor, she and a packed house of dancing ponies, every single pony there moving together to a single pulsing beat.
But Vinyl also knew plenty of ponies didn't like her kind of music, her "noise," wouldn't even give it a try, and most of them were over-brushed, upper-class snooty-snoots. On first glance, Vinyl would have thought that this Octavia mare was one of those wound-up aristocrats who had forgotten what it was like to actually feel an emotion beyond smug superiority, but that was very much not the case.
Octavia was rapt, paying close attention to Vinyl what Vinyl was saying. Vinyl wasn't quite sure whether Octavia was interested in what Vinyl was saying... or in Vinyl herself.
Maybe "rapt" wasn't the right word. Vinyl didn't know. Octavia was hanging on every single thing Vinyl said and did, eating her up with her eyes, drinking in every flex and press of Vinyl's lips, every bob of her tousseled, bed-head mane, every hoof gesture she made to punctuate a point or to push back up her sliding glasses. She smiled every time Vinyl smiled, and laughed whenever Vinyl laughed. Octavia had even forgotten to drink her coffee before Vinyl pointed it out.
They were from two completely different worlds. Octavia very clearly did not have the slightest clue about DJing or electronic music or really anything Vinyl did... but that didn't seem to matter to her. There was something that drew her, something that bridged the gap between them, something wonderful, something that made Octavia not care a single bit about their differences. And that was... nice. Being the object of such interest from such a beautiful mare who had no other reason to care except Vinyl herself?
It was... flattering.
Octavia was hot. Like, really hot, but not just hot. She was elegant. Her poise, controlled grace in every little motion she made. Her easy, beautiful smile caught and held Vinyl's eye and her laughter... it was a pleasure just to hear it. Vinyl wanted to keep hearing it. Vinyl really wanted to keep make her smiling and laughing so she kept talking, peppering in quips and sarcastic remarks, trying to zero in on Octavia's sense of humor. That little pink bow tie was insanely cute, Vinyl didn't even know how it was possible for a mare to wear a tie so well. And every time Octavia would lean forward, Vinyl would catch the slightest scent of fresh lilacs.
Octavia was never awkward. All of her movements were smooth and deliberate, like she was in complete command of herself and her body. Vinyl wondered if she was a dancer or something, like she had training or conditioning or something in sports or whatever. Maybe that was common for her type? Was it weird for well-bred, sophisticated mares to be so fit, so strong, so powerful? Did nobles still sword fight... or whatever they fought with? Was dueling still a thing?
She was captivating. That's the word. Just the way Octavia brushed back her mane when it slipped down over those amazing eyes, unconsciously pushing it back over her ear. Those eyes. There was something about them. Something Vinyl couldn't explain.
Vinyl wore her sunglasses but whenever Octavia looked at her with those eyes, when her gaze flicked up from something the table to Vinyl, Vinyl felt like her face was bare, exposed, vulnerable, like Octavia could see right through her. It made her breath catch. And she wasn't sure how she felt about that. Vinyl liked to keep others at a bit of a distance... she tended to get attached otherwise. But distance was nothing to Octavia, not when she looked at Vinyl with those mysterious eyes. It felt impossible to keep anything from Octavia.
There was something about Octavia, something strange and fascinating and enticing. Like she had a secret. Something beneath the beauty and the grace, something inside her heart, something she'd only share with someone she'd love and trust.
Vinyl kind of wanted to find out what that secret was.
At some point Vinyl had stopped talking and just gazed at Octavia, entranced. And Octavia returned the gaze, a secret little smile on her face.
Vinyl started smiling, too.
They held each other's gaze for a long few moments before unpleasant memories crept into Vinyl. Memories of Vinyl's ex. Her. And the empty apartment. And then the moment was broken.
"Um," began Vinyl.
"Let's go out!" blurted Octavia.
Vinyl's eyes went wide. "Uh, w-what?" A heavy blush heated her cheeks.
Octavia looked down at the table, cleared her throat, pressed her hooves together and composed herself. "What I mean to say is... Vinyl Scratch, would you please give me the pleasure of your company at dinner tomorrow evening? I'd... appreciate it. Awfully." She looked up with those magnetic eyes and Vinyl's heart leapt in her chest.
Yes! Yes! Yes! I'd love to! Gosh you're so hot and I want to know all about you but wait yeah first let's go out but wait am I moving too fast? But she is the one doing the moving here! But if I go along with it I could still be making it go too fast, again! And I don't want what happened before to happen here! But this feels different than before, so could it end up different? Argh! But Neon doesn't like Octavia and told me not to but things are different for guys especially straight guys but what about all that he said about my heart and being too open...! I'm blushing aren't I? Crickets, I AM!! Oh gosh she knows what I'm thinking!!
"Um," said Vinyl, articulately.
"You don't have to answer right away," said Octavia, looking down at the table. Then she looked up through her lashes and fixed Vinyl on those shining, orchid-colored eyes. "But I think we both know what you're going to say." And she smiled.
OH MY GOSH YES! No, wait, NO! Play it cool, V, PLAY IT COOL!
Vinyl readjusted her shades and tried not to let her hoof shake. "Whoa, baby, uh, don't you think we're...?"
Octavia stood, sliding her cushion back. She firmly placed a hoof on the table, looked down, and gazed into Vinyl.
"The Garden on West and Mane at seven tomorrow. I know you'll be there."
Without a single word or backwards glance, she turned and swished away.
Vinyl, open-mouthed and stunned, watched her turn, watched her cross the shop, watched her open the glass door, then watched her through the door until she was out of sight.
Then Vinyl fell back into her seat and started fanning herself.
That lustrious flank.