Chapter 5: Dinner
*smash*
The sound makes your eyes jolt open. You are in bed. The sun is shining. Now you remember that you’re no longer in Clopton. There is no fake refrigerator job. No strange smell. Rainbow Dash is definitely not-...
You close your eyes and push the thought from your head while you are still good and groggy. You contemplate going back to sleep, but you have no idea what time it was. Customers could be showing up and you have to be ready for them. You lay there for a couple minutes to get your mind working a bit before trying to get up.
pit pat pit pat pit pat...
Hoofsteps. Light, but they're there. Is it a thief? With the time you spent in Ponyville, you are actually skeptical of the thought yourself.
You slowly open your eyelid just a bit to be able to see. An orange pegasus with purple mane was walking slowly towards the side of your bed. They're young, though. Only a filly. From what you could tell through your squinted eye, they didn’t even have a cutie mark yet.
You groan as you put your forehooves under yourself to push against the mattress. As you brought yourself up, you hear a frightened yelp from the filly as they back into a corner. You look at them, before something catches your eye. Near your bed was a red ball in a patch of sunlight along with two pony-shaped shadows. You look over and see two more young fillies, one yellow and one white, quickly dart away from the window which was now Celestia-damn broken.
You begin a low growl as you put two and two together.
You turn back to the filly in the room, staring at you the sort of way one would when they are trying and failing to convince themselves that something bad wasn’t about to happen. You recognize them as one of the three that came with the sewing machine you ended up fixing for another pony.
“What’s your name?” you ask flatly.
“S-Scootaloo...” they reply.
“And the other two, how about them?”
She sits there, mouth partially open.
“Well?”
She closes her mouth and looks down. You slide off the bed and put a hoof on the ball waiting for an answer.
“What are their names?” you ask again.
She looks up for a moment before dropping her head again, lightly shaking it back and forth. After a moment of silence, you sigh.
“I’m not in the mood for this...” you say to nopony in particular. “Look at me.”
Scootaloo keeps her head down.
“Look. At. Me,” you repeat, clearly stating each word.
She slowly brings her head up.
“This...” you begin, gesturing at the ball under your hoof. “Doesn’t happen again. Okay?”
She nods quickly. You kick the ball over to her.
“Get out of my house,” you grumble.
She picks up the ball and runs out as fast as her legs would carry her. You are thankful you have your jacket on from last night or things could have been worse with your scars out in the open. You look back at the broken window and figure there was no way around buying a broom now. Groaning from the rude awakening, you stretch your back to feel a satisfying pop before shaking out your bed mane a bit. Looking at the clock, you see you have about an hour or so before ponies could start dropping by.
You take off your jacket and make your way to the shower. Few quick turns of the knobs and the warm water flows through the hairs of your mane as you pick up a cheap shampoo from the general store. Squeezing a bit into your hoof, it smells a bit like permanent markers and maple syrup. Regardless, you sit down on your hind legs and begin working it into a lather from the middle of your mane outward.
You simply let the water wash out the shampoo and let it run down the rest of your body before stopping the shower and getting out. Grabbing one of the towels off the rack, you begin wiping down your forelegs before drying your hind legs. Pulling the towel over your face, you guide it down to dry your mane and back before whipping it around to the front. You wipe off some of the steam on the mirror to get a look at yourself. That shampoo you bought makes your hair feel greasier than how it was before, but you figure there must be some good coming from it.
Picking up an apple from the basket in the kitchen, you let the rest of your coat air dry while you eat. You think over what you have to do today. Buy a broom, somepony was coming by for a mixer (wanted a hidden compartment, too), a few more jobs from yesterday, no idea what other things would show up, see Rainbow Dash at some point-
You stop chewing your apple. You said you were going to see Dash tomorrow, yesterday. Yesterday being yesterday meaning tomorrow was now today, meaning today Rainbow Dash would come by. Or maybe she was expecting you to find her? No, you couldn’t reach her cloud house so she’ll come here. Unless she said to meet her somewhere. Did she?
Thinking back to last night, you find nothing but more questions. You remember how she smiled when she asked about your scars. How she sounded genuinely concerned about you. How she tried to say she knew how you felt. Why?
Why would she act like that? Does she mess with you to entertain herself like taking down the fliers and then helping your business? Perhaps she pities you and this affection is out of charity? Or worst of all, maybe Dash wants to be...
Your friend.
You cringe at the thought. You remember what friendship put you through. If somepony asked you to do it all again, they’d suddenly need to learn how to eat and breath around a monkey wrench wedged sideways down their throat. Never again.
Besides, Dash was just an arrogant weather pegasus. Even if she knew a few acrobatic tricks and could fly really fast. Okay, she was a little fun to be around when she wasn’t angry for some reason. She also was nice enough to help you clean up your house a bit. She probably had a hoof in setting up the multiple parties for you. And the way she held you last night was so warm and-
A knocking on the front door interrupts your thoughts, thankfully. “Just a minute!” you call out before biting off the last of the apple, throwing away the core, and going back to retrieve a jacket. It’s the only jacket that hasn’t been worn for multiple days already. You are going to have to do laundry at some point.
You hear the front door open. “Hey, where are you?” It's that familiar voice belonging to the mare you were just thinking about. You’re dry enough to comfortably throw on the jacket and meet Dash at the bedroom door.
“Why do you always just let yourself in?” you ask.
She shrugs.
“Okay then, so...” you say with a sigh. “What do you need?”
“I’m bored, let’s do something.”
“What? I can’t leave; I have to stay here for customers.”
“Um... it’s Sunday?” she says with a hint of ‘duh’ to it. “The day you said you were closed on the flier?”
Is it really Sunday? The past few days just sort of bleed together in your mind. “You put those back up? I thought you just told ponies about it.”
“I made sure to mention Sundays. So today is all for us,” she says wrapping a foreleg around your shoulder, eliciting that persistent shiver. “What are we doing first?”
You gesture a hoof to your work table with a finished piece of work on it. “There’s a pegasus coming to pick up this mixer-”
“Oh, pfft,” she says, with a flick of her other hoof. “Put a sign on the door that you’re closed. Plus, they’re a pegasus. It’s not like it takes that long to fly out here. So they lose a minute or two, so what?”
You sigh. “I told them specifically to come by today. I want to be here when they show up, plus I have some work to do. Also, I need to go to the store.”
“What do you need at the store?”
“A broom.”
“Broom? What do you need a broom for when you got me?” she asks, spreading one of her wings out to show it off.
“Broken glass.”
“Oh.” She takes her hoof back to rub behind her neck. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to clean that up. How’d it happen?”
“Three little troublemakers, my window, and a ball. Not the best way to wake up in to morning,” you say with a bit of ire in your voice. “Anyway, I still want to get some work done today.”
Dash lets out a mumble in annoyance.
“...Fine,” you concede. You don’t really have any other plans tonight and it's good to get out of the house. “Just come by this evening and we’ll do something.”
“This evening?” she asks.
“Yeah. That a problem?”
“No. No, no. Not at all. So, uh... what would we do?”
“I don’t know. You know the town better than I do. We’ll find something.”
“Okay,” she says with a shrug. “See you later!” With a flap of her wings, she’s in the air and flying back out the front door. You wonder what it is about Rainbow Dash that makes you okay with her just coming and going as she pleases.
You sigh before bringing a broken toaster to your work table.
===
The day had thus far been productive. The pegasus collected his mixer around four, so you walked to the store to pick up a broom, dustpan, and a new window pane. Although you haven’t fixed too many windows in your life, your talent is to fix things so how hard could it be?
The window pane now lying on your bed, you sweep the last of the glass into the dustpan before dumping it into the trashcan. In that time, you hear the front door open again.
“Hey!” you hear Dash call out.
“Hey,” you call back. She wanders into your bedroom.
“Wow, they really did a number on your window,” she says, seeing the jagged remains.
“Yeah. It’s going to be a pain to fix.”
“At least the breeze is nice,” she offers.
“Pfft,” you respond, putting away the broom and dustpan. “Let’s go.” You both exit out of the house and you close the door behind you.
“So what are we doing?” Dash asks as you walk down the path, her fluttering in the air beside you. You have actually given it no thought during the day.
“I don’t know. I thought you would had an idea by now.”
“Oh. Nope.”
You both walk on for a few moments.
“Well, what would you like to do?” she asks. You don’t have time to think before your stomach growls, now remembering you haven’t eaten since the apple this morning.
“How about we get something to eat? You hungry?” you ask.
“I, um... I could eat something, sure.”
You notice the hesitation in her voice. “You alright?” you ask.
“Yeah, of course!” she says, getting her usual confidence back rather quickly. “Where should we eat?”
“Um...” you begin, seeing as you are beginning to come into the town. Scanning around for a place that looks like it’d serve food, you spot a sign above a door depicting lettuce, mushrooms, and carrots. “How about there?” you ask, pointing a hoof.
“Oh, that new restaurant?” she asks.
You pause for a moment. “Restaurant?” you say, turning the alien phrase around in your head.
“Wait, don’t you have restaurants back in Clopton?” Dash asks. “Where you go in, sit down, and wait for them to bring your food to you?”
“Oh, you could sit down, but you had to get your food from the counter when they called your number.”
“Those are fast-food places!” she exclaims. “Okay, I’m showing you what a real restaurant is.” She grabs your hoof and drags you to the door of the restaurant. While she does so, you notice a faint trace of blush on her cheeks.
You both step inside. The tables and counters all around seem to be made of mahogany wood. The ceiling and walls are a deep calming blue while the carpet is a relaxed green. The late afternoon light seeps in through the window. There is some classical music playing over the scene.
Looking around, you can safely say you have never been in a restaurant before. You begin to walk forward to find an open table.
“Hey, wait!” Dash calls out. You turn back to see her pointing at a sign that says PLEASE WAIT TO BE SEATED.
“What?” you ask. “There’s an open table right there!” You point at a vacant table no less than four steps away. “Why do we need to wait?”
“It’s just how these places work,” Dash says. You see a dark blue unicorn with yellow mane and a black apron approach you.
“Good evening!” she says. “Table for two?” You and Dash both nod. “Alright, I can seat you right-”
You trot past her and sit down at the table you had pointed out earlier.
“...Okay,” you hear her say behind you. Dash walks over and takes the seat opposite from you. She’s blushing even more than before.
“Well, here you are,” she says, ignoring your antics and using her magic to float two menus in front of you and Dash. “I shall be back in a moment to take your drink orders.”
You both open your menus when Dash hisses, “What was that?”
“What was what?” you ask.
“Just walking right by to the nearest table?”
“Hey, she said we could be seated. I waited.”
“We’re supposed to sit where they tell us to sit.”
“Why?”
She just sighs and looks over her menu. You take a look and raise an eyebrow. “Wow, this is expensive,” you say.
“It’s pretty normal for restaurants around here. You got enough bits to pay?” she asks.
“Yeah, I have enough, but look. Ten bits for this...” You squint and look closer at the writing. “Vermackally...”
“I think that’s vermicelli,” Dash corrects with a little chuckle.
“Vermicelli,” you repeat with a nod. “And it tells me how to make it in the tiny writing right under it. Noodles fried with vegetables. Why can’t I buy the stuff at the store, make it at home, and save my bits?”
“Because they make it better here,” Dash explains. “It’s not store bought ingredients and it’s good chefs cooking it on stoves and in ovens. You’re paying for the service.”
“I see,” you say. “Better be some good vermackally, then.” You hear Dash snicker behind her menu. You begin to smirk as you keep reading.
The dark blue unicorn walks back up to you. “Hello again, I will be your waitress,” she says cheerily. She levitates out a pencil and notebook. “Can I get you some drinks?”
“Drinks?” you ask.
“Yes, we have apple juice, carrot juice, orange juice, tomato juice, pineapple juice, our new pear juice, sarsaparilla, water, milk, coffee, tea, and a list of wines from our wine menu if you wish to see it.”
You are impressed she could rattle those off so easily. “No on the wine, but I’ll have a tomato juice,” you say.
“Orange for me,” Dash says.
“Any appetizers to start with?” the waitress asks as she writes down your drink orders.
“What’s an appetizer?” you ask.
“It’s a little something for before the main course,” she explains.
“Hmm. Well, I think I’d just like to start with the main course,” you say.
“For you, ma’am?”
“No thanks,” Dash replies.
“Okay, I will have those right out for you,” she says before walking away.
As soon as she’s gone, Dash speaks up. “No wine, huh? Why not?”
“Not big into wine,” you say.
“Really, so you prefer other kinds of drink, then? I’m sure we could find you something,” she says.
“Haha, no. I’d rather not.”
“Why not?” she asks.
“It’s well...” you start, trying to think of a good explanation. “I’ve done some stupid things drunk.”
“So have a lot of ponies,” Dash says.
“Really. Stupid things,” you emphasize, hope to get the point across.
“Ah,” is all she responds with before the waitress walks back up.
“Here is a basket of rolls for the table. Your drinks will be just another few moments,” she says with a smile. She sets down a blue and green basket that matches the walls and floor full of golden brown buttery biscuits before walking off again.
“Ooh!” Dash exclaims excitedly, reaching out for a roll and taking a bite.
“So what’d you end up doing for the day while I worked?” you ask, trying to start up some conversation away from your past with alcohol.
“Ooph,” she says with a mouth full of butter roll. She swallows before opening her mouth again. “Applejack was bucking apples, so I helped her out.”
“Bucking apples?” you ask. “Is that when you just kick the tree?”
“Uh huh,” she replies, reaching for another roll. “It’s pretty busy for her this time of year. She gets really grouchy as well. She needs all the help she can get.”
You nod, having seen Applejack’s grouchiness before.
“Can be a bit of a pain,” she says before stuffing the golden brown pastry into her face.
“Well, you did say your friends bugged you,” you say with a shrug.
“Mmph. Wha?”
“Last night. You said that-”
“No no no,” she says, having quickly swallowed before talking. “I said how things with friends can bug you.”
“What’s the difference?”
“It’s... It’s that...” She takes a moment to collect her thoughts, grabbing and biting another roll. “Have you ever owed somepony a favor?”
“Yeah, but that’s not something that’s really bugged me,” you reply.
“...Really?” she asks.
“Yeah. ‘You scratch my back, I scratch yours’ and stuff like that. That’s normal isn’t it?”
“You never feel... bad for not doing something?”
“Oh, if you don’t make good on your favors, there are ponies in Clopton that will make you feel horrible.”
She sighs. “Nevermind,” she says as she picks up and devours another roll.
“Here are your drinks!” the waitress announces as if on cue. She levitates the glasses off of the tray on her back and puts them in front of you and Dash. “Now, have you decided on what to order or will you need a few more moments?”
You take one last look through the menu. “Uh, I’ll take the...” You hope you pronounce it right. “...Carrot Stroganoff.”
“Mushroom Florentine for me,” Dash says, before grabbing the last roll from the basket. You give her a sideways glance. That is one of the most expensive dishes on the menu.
“Alright then, I’ll have those orders out for you when they’re ready. Also, I’ll bring you another basket of rolls.” She finishes writing your order in her notebook before levitating the menus out of your hooves.
You glance over at the empty basket. “How much will the rolls cost?”
“Rolls and non-alcoholic drink refills are free,” she explains, seeing the worry on your face.
“Oh, well then that’d be great,” you say with a smile.
With a nod, she walks away from the table. You take a sip of your tomato juice when Dash speaks up again.
“How about you tell me a bit about yourself?” she asks.
“What do you mean?” you ask.
“I always tell you about things I’ve done. How about you?”
You shrug. “I explained a lot at the party. What else do you want to know?”
“Something personal,” she says before bringing a hoof to her chin. “How about your scars?” she asks in a lowered voice, aware of her public surroundings.
You frown as you instinctively bring a hoof to the side of your neck.
“Not that one,” she explains. “How about the others? How did you get them?”
You bring your hoof down and sigh. “Maybe later,” you say.
“Oh, come on!”
“Not as later as...” You point to your neck. “But later. It’s just they’re long stories and, well...” You look around. “Ponies are eating,” you finish with a shrug.
She just nods. Dash munches on another roll as you both sip your drinks and wait for your food.
“So, are you still trying to get rid of me?” she asks suddenly.
“What?”
“You apologized to everypony. Finally.” She rolls her eyes. “Are you still trying to get me to leave you alone?”
“Oh, you and I both know that’ll never happen,” you say with chuckle, causing Dash to laugh herself. “I might just have to get used to you.”
Dash takes a moment to respond. When she does, all she says is, “Yeah.” For some reason, you’re okay with that answer.
“So why do you follow me around?” you ask.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m, as you put it, a ‘jerk’,” you say using your hooves for airquotes. “And for some reason, you just keep coming back. Why?”
“Uh...” Rainbow Dash’s gaze moves from you to something past you. “Hey, the rolls are here!”
Turning your head, you see the waitress indeed bringing a fresh basket of warm rolls. Dash happily digs in as soon as they hit the table.
“Your orders will be out in a little bit,” the waitress says. You give her a nod in response.
As soon as she’s gone you turn your attention back to Dash. “So?” you ask.
“Wha?” Her mouth full of pastry yet again.
“Two things. One, you’re not going to have room for your order if you keep eating those things.” You point a hoof at the basket of rolls she has already made a considerable dent in. “Second, answer my question.”
“You should have one of these rolls, they’re really good,” she says.
“Dash.” She looks up. “Why do you keep following me?” It's beginning to aggravate you that you have to ask so many times before you could get an answer.
She begins to drum a hoof on the table. Suddenly, she turns to you with a complacent look. “I’ll tell you later,” she says.
You let your vexed expression say all you need to.
“Hey, you don’t tell me about your scars, then there are certain things I don’t have to tell you.” She reaches into the basket. “Also, I meant it when I said to try a roll,” she says before tossing a one of the flaky biscuits toward you.
You sigh and pick it up to take a bite. The buttery flavoring did little to distract from the rubbery texture that almost seems to wiggle in your mouth. You force yourself to chew it quickly and swallow.
“These rolls suck,” you say plainly, taking another swig of tomato juice to rinse the experience out of your mouth. Admittedly, you have little experience in rolls, but you had baked them once yourself. The fact that you remember those being better than these means something has gone wrong. You put the bitten roll somewhere out of the way on the table.
“They’re not that bad,” Dash replies, eating the last one from the basket again. You wonder where she puts all of it.
“Your food is ready!” the waitress announces as she brings two platters with your orders on them.
“That was fast,” Dash comments as she sets the plates down. Steam rose up from the plate with your diced carrots, mushrooms, and onions served over noodles. Dash looked hungrily at her sliced mushrooms over a bed of spinach. A somewhat sweet smelling brown sauce has been drizzled over both.
“Enjoy your meal,” the waitress says happily with a bow. “And I’ll get you another tomato juice, sir.”
Dash has already begun to dig in by the time the waitress walks away. You lean your head down to take a bite of the admittedly impressive meal you are presented with. You taste the sauce, a sweet with a hint of tang, but something is off. You couldn’t tell the difference between the onions, carrots, and mushrooms. They are flavorless and all simply turn to a mush under the slightest pressure from your teeth. You try a second bite and found the same result, only this time you notice a distinct difference in temperature between parts of what you have just put in your mouth. You didn’t know what to expect coming here, but you expected better than this.
“Hey Dash, this doesn’t seem-” You stop when you look up, seeing Dash eyeing her food with the same questioning look. She has already taken four bites, but she is chewing her last one slowly.
When she swallows, she looks at you. “Something’s wrong. I’ve eaten at restaurants before and it wasn’t like this.” She takes a hoof and gives the mushrooms a poke. “You want to try?” she asks.
“Your mushrooms?”
“Yeah.”
She pushes her plate towards you. With a shrug you lean down and take a small bite. Sure enough, the mushroom is flavorless and spongy. You take a drink of your juice and then see your food in front of Dash with her about to taste it.
“Hey,” you say. “I didn’t say you could eat my food.”
“I gave you a taste of mine,” she says defensively.
You sigh and wave a hoof to give her the go ahead instead of arguing. You probably wouldn’t eat all of it. She takes a bite and you watch her chew, her expression changing from neutral to ponderous to off put.
“That’s really weird,” she says, sliding the dish towards you as you slide hers back as well. You both sit, staring at your food for a while. “Well, it’s not really bad, is it?” she asks.
You nod. It certainly isn’t the worst thing you’ve ever eaten. You are also paying good bits for it, so you might as well eat what you can.
You start opposite from where Dash had taken her bite and resume eating. The various vegetable mushing together is a little unpleasant, but the sauce made it tolerable. The waitress came by with your new drink, which you took a gulp from as soon as she set it down. You look up and notice you are eating faster than Dash.
“Was I right about filling up on rolls?” you ask.
“Shut up,” she says as she takes another slow bite of her food.
“THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!” you hear from a far off table. You both look to see an older stallion looking furious over his food. Your waitress is trying to calm him down. Other than the sudden outburst, you couldn’t make out what they're saying. The stallion simply gets up from his table and walks past and out the door without another word. Your waitress stands there with a tired look before going to the next table where the couple sitting do not look any more pleased.
Dash looks concerned. “Wow...” she says. “We should leave her a nice tip.”
“Nice what?” you ask.
“A tip. You know. Leave some bits on the table.” You look at her blankly. This is obviously one of those restaurant things you’ve never heard of before. “When you give them money along with the bill for good service?”
“Wait, you mean pay her more then we have to?” you ask. “Why in the world would we do that?”
“Because it’s nice. I’ve heard that ponies have given you tips before!” she says, pointing a hoof.
“Well, my client pays me what my client pays me. She gets her paycheck from the restaurant, right? They pay her to do this job, why should we?”
“Because most of her pay depends on these tips!”
You look at her confused. “Wait, really?”
“Yeah!”
You look over to the waitress who is now getting yelled at by a group of three ponies. One of them turns their plate full of food over onto the floor before they all walk out. You look back to your own plate.
“It’s the food,” you say, plainly. Dash looks at you then down to her remaining dish. “I’ll be right back,” you say, getting up.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“Restroom.”
You walk down the aisles of tables and see big double doors where a waiter emerges with a tray full of food. You remember it for a little later as you also see a sign against the far wall pointing out the restroom for stallions. Although you did have to make use of the facilities, there is something else you want to see. You enter the restroom only to have a gagging scent like a hospital full of sour cherries invade your nostrils. You hold your breath and quickly go about your business.
Emerging back out of the restroom you walk back to your table a bit back to the double doors. Another waiter pops out with more food and you slide in behind his back before the door closes completely.
Your hooves go from carpet to white tile as you enter the kitchen. You couldn’t believe what you saw. There is a row of microwaves that stretches across the far wall. You see a chef take a plastic bag full of some yellowish ball things, put them on a plate and pop them into one of them. He stops the one next to it and pulls out a something similar and dumps it into a blue and green basket.
You only see two stoves with three big pots on them with another chef stirring. They pick up and open a can before dumping its content into one of them. You notice it to be like the brown sauce on your food.
Another wall with shelves holds cans of a few different sizes along with more plastic bags of varying substances. Another chef exits a freezer with a bag full of green leaves. They tear it open, put some on a plate along with some mushroom slices from another bag and pop it into an open microwave.
A group of four chefs are in the middle of the kitchen not doing anything but talking and laughing. Just standing around, wasting time. One of them looks towards your direction.
“Hey!” they yell. “No customers back here! Get out!”
You slowly back out of the double doors, nearly hitting another waiter on the way. Without a word, you guide yourself back to the table where Dash is waiting.
“You shouldn’t have drank that tomato juice so fast,” she says with a smirk.
“Cans,” you say.
“What?”
“Cans and bags and microwaves. Nothing like you told me.”
“Wait...” Dash begins, catching on. “You saw the kitchen? Do they use stoves?”
“I only saw it for sauce. Which came from a can. The food, the rolls, all microwaved. Most of the chefs don’t even do anything.”
“That’s why the food tastes weird. Probably why everypony is leaving so angry,” she says.
“And yelling at the waiters,” you reply before holding a hoof in the air. “Hey! Over here!” you call to your waitress.
You almost see an expression of fear flash over her face before she walks towards you. “Y-Yes, sir? Is everything alright?” she asks a little shakily.
“How much do you make?” you ask the waitress.
“I’m sorry, sir, what?”
“How much do you make here?”
“Hey, what are you...” Dash cuts in, but you hold up a hoof for her to wait and let the waitress answer.
“Well, uh, with tips I-”
“Not with tips,” you interrupt. “How much does this place alone pay you?”
“About a bit and a half per hour.”
“A bit and a half!?” you exclaim loud enough to get some looks from the other tables. “How much do those chefs in there make?”
“I don’t really, um, know. I think it’s maybe eight bits an hour?” She sees the look of shock on your face. “Of course, they don’t make tips... Will that be all?”
“Could we have the check?” Rainbow Dash suddenly asks.
“Oh, certainly,” she says, almost relieved. “Will this be on one bill or two?”
“One bill. I got this,” you answer before Dash could say anything.
“Okay, I’ll be right back,” she says, turning and walking away.
Dash looks at you with a mix of embarrassment and skepticism. “Are you really paying for all of this?” she asks. You simply nod.
The two of you sit in silence until the waitress comes back. “Here you are, the total is twenty bits. Bring this up to the front counter when you’re ready.” She places a small tray with a receipt on the table before going to help another group of customers.
“Twenty bits my flank,” you mumble. “Hey Dash, would you ever eat here again?”
“Honestly, probably not,” she replies.
“Good,” you say, reaching into your bag and scooping a large hoofful of bits onto the table.
“Whoa, you’re leaving a tip?” Dash asks.
“I should, shouldn’t I?” you say with a mock sincerity, taking two more bits out, placing them in the tray, and picking it up to take to the front counter.
“Hey, what are you doing!?” Dash asks above a whisper as you walk.
“Paying for the service,” you respond. Nopony is at the counter, so you leave the tray with two bits there as you walk out the front door as if nothing was wrong. Rainbow Dash follows beside you, looking back and forth for any witnesses.
As you both walk away from the restaurant, Dash begins to speak quietly.
“I can’t believe you did that.” She shakes her head. “You just stole from that place.”
“Come on. Place thinks it can overcharge for shoddy food, expect the customers to pay their staff for them, and I’m the thief?”
“That’s what those places do! That’s what every restaurant does!” Dash exclaims.
“Oh.” You walk a bit more in silence. “I don’t think I like restaurants.” All you hear is Dash’s frustrated sigh.
Time passes and the sun begins to set on the horizon as you make your way down the path. You look over to Dash and see her nearly dragging her hooves, head hanging down, and blushing. You frown and think a bit.
“Hey, have I told you how I got this scar right here?” you ask, pointing to your chest.
“You haven’t told me anything,” Dash says with annoyance.
“Well, it was a cold December day in Clopton,” you begin, unhindered by Dash’s tone. “Just finished up fixing a clock for some gang down the street, so I go over to deliver it...”
===
The stars are out with Luna’s moon in full force, illuminating the land with its pale glow. The relatively chilly night air didn’t stop you and Dash from deciding to take the scenic route to your place. You let Dash finish her latest round of laughing.
“...and so, his name was Shakes. Actually, it wasn’t but that’s what we called him. He was a junkie that mostly caused trouble so not a lot of ponies liked him,” you explain.
“Yeah?” Dash asks between giggles.
“Yeah. So, Shakes is coming after me with a knife and I’m just running. Now, on a good day if I wasn’t tired, I could normally outrun him. This day was a good day.”
“So what happened?”
“We were running down the street, but it had this huge downward hill. Made running a little easier if you could keep up with your legs. Either way, Shakes knew he wouldn’t be able to catch up to me...” you have to suppress your own fit of giggles before continuing. “And so there’s this bum in an alley with a shopping cart full of cans, you see.”
“Oh no, tell me he didn’t do what I think he did.”
“So he takes this shopping cart and scoops out a bunch of cans before jumping into it instead of riding on the back.” You take a breath to keep from bursting into laughter. Dash tries as well, but fails, her guffaws piercing through the serenity of the night. “And so with cans crashing on the road with various yelling, I looked back to see Shakes in the cart scooping as many cans as he could out with the knife in his teeth, swinging his head around like crazy.” You clench your teeth together and spin your head around. “RRRRrrrrrRRRRrrrrrRRRR- I swear, that’s the noise he made.”
Dash is walking on three legs, one wrapped around her stomach as it sounds like she can barely breathe from all of the laughing.
“And on top of that, there was the homeless colt, running and screaming right behind him!” You couldn’t hold your laughter anymore, barely being able to finish the sentence. After a few deep breaths, you go on. “So, Shakes is swinging his head all around, which is causing the cart to rock back and forth as it’s barreling down the hill.”
You look to Dash and see there are nearly tears in her eyes.
“The cart topples over, Shakes and the cans all go flying. The knife somehow hits the ground and bounces towards me and swish!” You flick a hoof across your foreleg. “Only time he ever got me. Then the bum caught up and started beating the hay out of him.”
“Why am I laughing?” Dash manages to get out. “Why am I laughing so hard at these stories?”
“Because they’re funny!” you say. “This scar’s probably the only good memory I have of the guy.”
With the conclusion of your story, you come up to the front door of your house. Turning the knob, you open it up and leave it, popping on the living room lamp and assuming Dash will close the door when she comes in.
“So, you want an apple or something?” you ask. After a while, you get no response. You look back to see Dash waiting on your doorstep, no longer laughing.
“You coming in?”
“Is... it okay?” she asks.
“You never needed permission before,” you respond. She takes a couple steps in before closing the door. Although it's a bit weird, you are in a good enough mood to let it go. “So how about that apple?”
“Okay...” she says meekly. “So, uh, anymore scars to tell me about?”
You think for a moment. “Nope, that’s all of them.” You toss her an apple that she scrambles to catch. You plop yourself down on the couch. “Take a seat if you like,” you say.
“What about the one on... you know. Your neck?” she asks as she sits next to you. You had avoided explaining that particular scar. “You said your friend gave it to you,” she says. You notice her staring intensely at the spot where the jacket covered the scar.
“No, it...” You scour your brain for the right response. All you could do is sigh. “It’s rather personal. Not really entertaining like the others.”
Dash still looks at where the scar is covered. You can almost hear the ticking of the clock behind you. You try to think of something, anything, to say. Or at least you wish Dash would say something. Every passing moment, you feel the laughter and happiness you had just shared with her disappearing into the awkward silence.
Suddenly, you feel something press against your neck. You turn to see Dash has extended a hoof to touch it. Slowly, she begins to rub in a circle against your jacket.
“Can I see it again?” she asks. You pause for a moment before reaching up and tugging your jacket far enough down to expose it. Her hoof meets the scar as soon as it hits fresh air, causing the length of it to feel extremely warm.
You feel her adjusting herself on the couch, leaning forward to get a better look. You could feel her breath across your neck again and you begin to remember the previous night. Dash rubs your scar and your hoof rises up to meet it.
Which you did right now. She stops rubbing briefly before you start slowly rubbing her own hoof.
She looks up to your face when she resumes rubbing. Your eyes meet as you just look into each other for a few moments. You wonder what those eyes have seen. Incredible things if her stories are to be believed. And yet... you could almost see them all. A glint of mischief. A twinkle of daring. Almost a glow of loyalty.
Your look is cut short as she closes her eyes. She seems to just sit there, but then you notice she’s gradually getting closer. She couldn’t possibly be about to... could she? Whether she is or not, you don’t pull away.
Her snout lightly touches against yours. She’s blushing so much you can almost feel the heat coming off of her cheeks. You doubt you’re faring any better, though. You both simply sit there for a long moment.
Suddenly, she tears her head away, looking down at the ground. She stops rubbing the scar and lets her foreleg dangle loosely. Your own grip the only thing keeping it from falling back to her side. “Dash? Are you okay?” you ask in surprise.
“I... I’m sorry,” she says.
“What’s wrong?”
She only gives an annoyed grumble in response. You wait for her to say something else, but she doesn’t. Not knowing what else to do, you just start rubbing her hoof against your neck again. This succeeds in getting her to look up for a moment before having her head drop again. Her face is one of almost apathy.
Seeing her expression nearly blank triggers something in the back of your mind. All of a sudden, the dream you had last night comes back in full force. The stinging of your neck. The sour smell. You feel your whole body cringe.
“AH!”
You snap out of it when you feel Dash’s hoof pull away suddenly. She’s holding it in her other as she looks at you surprised. Did you squeeze her hoof? Oh no, you didn’t squeeze too hard did you? Still shaken from to sudden rush of the dream, you try to find the right words to say.
“Dash, I didn't mean to...”
“What was that?” she asks above a whisper.
“It...” Your eyes drift away.
“Please just tell me,” she says nearly exasperated.
You sit silent for a while. You hear Dash take a deep breath before getting up off the couch.
“A dream,” you say suddenly.
“What?” she asks.
“I had a dream last night.” Why lie at this point? Why try to hide it? “You were there when...” You look over to meet Dash’s eyes. “...When I got this scar,” you say, rubbing your hoof against it.
“And... you’ll tell me later?” she asks.
You nod. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she says with a slight nod of her own. “But you will tell me at some point, right?”
“Yes.” The word came out before you even have to think about it.
“Okay.” She turns and walks towards the door again. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“For what?”
“To talk. About something,” she replies. “I don’t know what.” She opens the door and stretches out her wings, preparing for flight.
“See you then,” you say as she flaps into the air, taking her apple, and closes the door behind her.
You don’t feel like moving. You feel like all of the will to do anything has been sucked out of your body. All you can manage is to lean enough to fall over on the couch.
When you do, you feel yourself laying on a certain warmth. It's the spot Dash was sitting. It felt good, like a warmth that would relax away an ache. You close your eyes and simply let yourself feel it against your coat.
As time passes, the warmth fades. However, you have yet to move. The clock is still ticking, but it seems to grow more and more distant. You adjust yourself a little and breathe out a sigh before you let the last of your senses slip away into sleep.
===
The sun shines high in the sky.
You put the finishing touches on your latest job. An old pocket watch that was dropped off by the mayor’s secretary. While it probably just belongs to the secretary, you aren’t sure. There is a chance that the mayor herself is using your services, meaning you might have possibly become a real part of the community maybe.
You imagine yourself at sort of boardroom meetings, deciding in what ways to use funds. Standing at the front of crowds at big store openings while the mayor cuts the red ribbon. Speaking at schools with a bunch of little foals looking at you with aspiration.
You sincerely hope it’s just the secretary’s watch.
Although such thoughts are far-fetched to say the least, it did help keep your mind off of other matters. The colorful pegasus who would drop by today, if only for who-knows-what.
What is it she wants to talk about? Was she not sure? Was she regretting getting to know you? Did you hurt her? You almost couldn’t believe you are asking these questions. You were desperately trying to avoid getting connected to anypony ever again, but now she’s...
*knock knock knock*
She’s here.
You sigh as you turn your head to the door. “Come on in,” you call out.
Surprisingly, the door opens and reveals a pony not to be Dash. Instead, it’s a white unicorn with deep purple mane you remember providing service for before. In fact, they came in with the same sewing machine you had fixed for them previously.
“Hello again, dear,” she says as she walks in. “Sorry to be needing your services again after such a short time.” She looks at you for a moment. “Are you alright? You seem a bit surprised.”
“Oh, I’m fine. I was expecting somepony else,” you explain.
“Really?” she asks, almost discerningly. With a little chuckle she adds, “Well, I shall not take too long.”
“What’s the problem?” you ask.
She levitates the machine onto your table. “Oh, my little sister decided she wanted to help with a particularly large order. Now something is jammed inside of it.”
You nod as she talks. “I’ll take a look. Come by in a couple days and it should be ready.”
You take the machine and a screwdriver to begin unscrewing the outer case to take a peek inside. After the second screw is completely out, you notice that the white unicorn is still standing in your living room.
“So...” she speaks up again. A simple word that nearly causes you to shudder. This isn’t just any old ‘So.’ It is one of those ‘So’s. A ‘So’ of curiosity. The beginning of an interrogation. But most unfortunately, it is a ‘So’ of “I’m not leaving your house, yet.”
“How was your date with Rainbow Dash?” she asks.
You put down the screwdriver before looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “What?”
“Your date,” she repeats twisting her head to point an ear at you as if to hear you better. “How was it?”
“My... date?” you say; not just as asking, but trying to find if there's a meaning to the term that she is using that you have yet to realize.
“Yes, yes, your date!” she exclaims with a little excited hop. “Did you have a good time? Was it absolutely romantic? Are you looking forward to another?”
Okay, she confirms what you were afraid she meant. You sigh at the obviously confused mare.
“It wasn’t a date,” you explain.
Her smile instantly vanishes. She leans back and looks at you in disbelief. “It wasn’t?” she asks.
You shake your head. “No, we were just hanging out. I just finished cleaning some broken glass in my bedroom when she came by,” you begin, recalling the day’s events. “While we were in town we got something to eat at this place. Then we got out and decided to take a walk...” Something began to spark in your mind. “...And finally we came back here, I invited her in- oh.”
It all clicks into place. You could see the purple-maned unicorn’s smirk grow back as you spoke.
“Well, well, well...” she says. “Dinner and a walk under the stars, then back to your place; that all sounds to me like a- wait, what are you doing? Hey, no need to shove!”
You wordlessly guide the white unicorn out the door. As soon as she is on the doorstep, she looks back. “Oh, at least tell me what you think about all of this!” she pleads.
“When I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know. Okay? Bye.”
“But-”
You close the door before she can get another word out. You hear a “Hmph!” behind the door before she turns to leave.
You sit on your hind legs and rub your forehead with a hoof. You couldn’t deny the possibility anymore. Maybe Rainbow Dash did want to be more than friends. And you were just having trouble deciding if that’s all you personally wanted.
Of course, it may be nothing. The white unicorn may be making assumptions that are completely incorrect of Dash’s intentions. Just because you went out and did things doesn’t mean you two are that heavily involved. Even if...
Your heart flutters as you remember when Dash had her face so close to yours. That look on her face when she closed her eyes. When she touched her snout to yours. You desperately wish you knew what was going through her head at that moment. There is a pile of evidence building up that you can’t keep ignoring that she-
A sudden knock on the door shakes you from your thoughts.
“Hey, you in there?”
Rainbow Dash.
“Yeah, I’m here,” you call out. She quickly enters looking at you very critically.
“I just saw Rarity leave here,” she says with a bit of urgency. That must be the name of that unicorn.
“And?” you ask.
“Did you two talk?”
“She was a customer. Customers tend to make a little small talk.” She still stares at you as if waiting for more. You give small sigh. “Dash, about yesterday...”
“Oh, that gossip hungry little...” she groans before she lets you continue.
“Was... was it a date?”
“No!” she exclaims.
You feel your heart drop, gloom filling the void in your chest. You just look down away from Dash. Wait, it was a question you were worrying about answered. Shouldn’t you feel relieved?
“I mean...” she stammers. Your ears perk up. “Maybe. I... I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” you ask looking up at her. She sits on her haunches with her head turned away trying not to look at you. You both remain silent.
Her eyes travel to the floor. “It wasn’t supposed to be a date...” she begins. “I wanted to ask you during the day for, like, next week or something. But then you were busy so it got moved to the evening and you wanted to go to dinner. And then the walk, the talking, and then we got back here.”
“Does... that really make it all a date?”
“It was everything a date was supposed to be, kind of...”
“Well...” you say after a moment. “Would you want to do it again?”
“Do... what?” she asks.
“Another date. If that’s what this was,” you say with a shrug.
“Well, Rarity said dates were supposed to...” She took a deep sigh and starts over. “She said that dates were supposed to end with a...” her voice trails off.
“With a...?” you ask. She doesn’t give you an answer, but you think you know. You slowly move yourself to sit right in front of her. Placing your hooves gently on her shoulders, she looks up at you with curiosity.
You inhale deeply before pressing your lips against hers. Her eyes go wide before slowly closing as you hear a sharp intake of breath through her nose. Her lips are pursed together, but soon soften as she begins to push back.
As much as you want to continue, you only allow a second or two more to pass before you pull away. She’s now holding her hooves to her chest, her mouth is partially open, and she looks at you very softly in wonder.
“So, was it a date n-”
You’re cut off as Dash lunges forward, pushing her hooves into your shoulders and tackling you to the ground. She presses her mouth hungrily against yours, prying your lips open with her tongue. She forces her way inside, exploring around wildly. She presses down on your own tongue, causing it to rise and join in. Licking and lapping at each other, you feel yourself becoming lost in the sudden embrace. You close your eyes and block out the world to let all of your other senses become overloaded with the mare on top of you. The taste of her tongue dancing across yours, the smell of the sweat forming in her sudden passion, the feel of her body pressing against you. Much to your disappointment, she eventually breaks the kiss.
As you stare at Dash’s face, now bright red, you grow increasingly aware of the dull throbbing ache in the back of your head from hitting the floor.
“Ow...” you say as you bring a hoof around to rub at it.
“Sorry,” she says with a sheepish smile.
“No problem.” You wave your other hoof dismissively. “So, how about another date if it ends with that?”
“Yeah!” she exclaims happily. “Tomorrow?”
You shrug. “Why not?”
“Awesome!” She leans down and gives you one more quick peck on the lips before climbing off of you. “See you then!” She leaps into the air with a mighty flap of her wings, bolting out the door and into the air with a wide array of flips and twirls through the sky. You think you hear a ‘WOOHOO!’ echo through the wind.
You watch her rainbow trail cut through the air, guessing that you’re probably grinning like an idiot, when you think back to the question the white unicorn posed earlier:
‘What do you think about all of this?’
You shake your head and prepare for the most honest answer you could give as soon as you are one hundred percent sure Rainbow Dash is completely out of earshot.
“...fuck.”
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Thank you all for your patience. I hope that next chapter can come out in less time.
I cannot promise anything, though. I apologize.
That was awesome! If anything, be rest assured that this chapter was DEFINITELY worth the wait!
Can't wait to see how the next chapter turns out, keep up the great work gears!
P.S. I laughed my ass off at the "...fuck." XD
Worth the wait..
Although a shorter wait would be appreciated eheh..
Brilliant. Just brilliant. I'm, thoroughly enjoying this story, and I can't wait to see how it ends - although, I can guess there's going to be a twist of some sort between then and now.
Keep going!
fuck...FUUUCK. the term in mlp is horseapples
The new chapters word count. Its.. its...
cache.ohinternet.com/images/thumb/1/1e/Over_9000_Vector_by_Vernacular.jpg/618px-Over_9000_Vector_by_Vernacular.jpg
Loved it! So glad you didn't drop this story.
awesome!
Oh my god, haha, 'fuck'
this story is probably in the top three I've ever read, no one pulls off good OC's, and this is the most detailed, creative, and well written stories on this website!
"Do you know how I got these scars?"
"No, but I know how you got these."
I want more T_T. Great story by the way. Unfortunately (Or fortunately depending on how you look at it) I don't have any critique to offer sorry.
shipping dash with an OC? THE FUCK ARE YOU THINKING WTF I HATE YOU I HATE THIS I -- Oh wait I haven't read it yet.
Okay no, I never thought I'd actually see the day when I found a good Dash/OC story. But I was mistaken, here it is. Fantastic story, and I don't have much to say but 'keep it up'!
for day or so i thought you stop wrighting but you didn't this made my day
UPDATE FUCK YEAH
This chapter was to say the least... AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!! The detail, Emotion, Speach, and grammar all flawless. Please keep up the amazing series!
P.S. Can't wait to see what happens next
Cmon man update it already
50673 You forgot to say OVER 9000!!!!!!
89848 a picture is worth a thousand words....or should I say over 9000
I laughed so hard at the "...fuck..." That was just about the best way to end any chapter....
after he (he, you, whatever) fell asleep after the dinner i took a brake. right before i came back i watched one of Yahtzee's "Zero Punction" and i read from then on in his voice cuz it was stuck in my head. his voice for the first paragraph after he got up was oddly fitting though...
Im starting to read this with my voice sounding like a ruffled mafia boss...
the attitude and situations really throw me off :X
Fuck in what context? *wiggles eyebrows suggestively*
2310995
Ah!
Get your mind out of the gutter! 
media.tumblr.com/856cd79de6fd8fd938b2d4b28fd04ef3/tumblr_inline_mp09edFXOy1qz4rgp.gif
I can honestly say...... I have never felt so hungry in my life even though the kitchen is horrible!!!!
Oh and good story my tummy enjoys it
3135156 agreed
...Fuck
For some reason, I imagine the protagonist having the voice of Bryan Cranston...
I'll just leave that statement there.
A restaurant with a kitchen of two stoves and multiple microwaves? Where's Gordon Ramsay when you need him?
My cheeks hurt from laughing!
0_________0 That's not how most relationships start but ok.......
5209484 AHAHAHAHAHAAHHA!!!!!! LOL YES THATS HIM!!!!
5209484
"You're god damn right."
Simple! Her metabolism is like the Flash's metabolism!
vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/marvel_dc/images/4/42/Flash_0001.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20120215162610
this story must be awkward if your a woman reading it
listen it weirder where i come from, you ALWAYS picked your own food, it was always pre-made, no orders, its kinda like golden coral, except i find the food the military offers me better. the only exception is when were having to camp for the night, *shudders* those MRE's are... well... i don't wanna talk about it
7668310 EXACTLY
you beat me to it
OK i like this author
i don't drink wine, and i don't wanna be accused of drinking it in a story
very appropriate, i like you sir
i bet shes doing that on pourpose
I KNEW IT!!!!!!
I KNOW WHAT MICROWAVE FOOD TASTES LIKE
AND THAT TASTED LIKE MICROWAVE FOOD!!!!
the only good microwave food is leftover pizza
8017406
yep, restaurants are not for me! Military food is GOOD enough
)
(i love the food they offer at the base
WHAT?! NO!
ITS NOT LIKE THAT!!!
theirs such thing as a friend date OK!
8017416
OK i regret liking
sexual stuff is to far
even to far for alcohol, this is not good
WHAT ITS IT WITH INAPPROPRIATE STUFF AND MLP?!!?
thanks to my autism i have to CONTINUE reading it *groans*
god, i wish i had a relationship like this.
8017529
the fuck are you? 13? its literally just them making out, not porn