Keeping It Simple

by Ivory Piano

19. City Slicker

City Slicker

Mac woke before the sun. There was much work to do today. His apartment was still as he dragged himself out of bed. He didn’t have the layout perfectly memorized yet, and he stubbed a hoof on the corner of the kitchen island. Swearing beneath his breath, Mac tied on an apron Octavia had bought for him as a little welcoming gift.

His apartment was similar to Octavia’s but had an additional floor, though not a complete story. A loft, Octavia had called it, though Mac liked to call it an interior balcony with its only door leading to another guestroom that Octavia had forgotten about. The stairs leading up to the second floor also went down into Octavia’s apartment. At least, they had before Mac cobbled together a trapdoor that could be locked like an ordinary door.

Macintosh chuckled to himself as he wiped off the orange peels Octavia had left on the dining table last night and extended out the table’s leafs to sit more ponies. The trapdoor protected his privacy. Octavia had a bad habit of walking around willy-nilly without even inviting herself in as if she owned the place. Well, she did own the place, but he still paid rent, damn it.

Mac shook his head and refocused his mind back on task. He set out every pot and pan he had pilfered from Octavia’s kitchen during the past week, as well as about a dozen cookbooks, on the granite-top island in the center of the kitchen. He opened his fridge, only to snap out a hoof to catch a falling gallon of milk. He tried to put it back, but the fridge was ready to burst with the amount of ingredients he had bought yesterday. Putting the milk aside for a moment, he took out everything and began separating by recipe.

It wouldn’t be easy cooking a brunch for eleven guests, but where would the fun be if it was? He closed his eyes and remembered the menu he would be preparing for brunch. He wanted to really outdo himself this time. He had invited all of his friends to this little housewarming party, and he wanted all of them to see how happy he was here, especially Applejack.

It had been a week since he had moved to Canterlot, and he hadn’t seen most of his friends since. In fact, the only other pony he had contact with had been Rarity. She had shown up to ask him on a date a few days ago at the same cafe she had brought him to when they’d attended the art exhibit so many months ago. It had been a nice lunch, though the conversation they had had been a bit...serious. Mac shrugged and pushed the memory from his mind. There was work to do.

The kitchen grew hotter as the ovens began to preheat, and soon a thin layer of flour dust covered every surface of the kitchen. Mac whipped, kneaded, and rolled, silently thanking Applejack for the fresh basket of apples she had sent him. A couple of apple pies would be the perfect finish to the meal. He slipped the pies into the ovens first, knowing full well they would take the longest to cool after baking. He smiled as he spied on the apple-filled pastries. Out of everything he was preparing they would surely be the most plain, but maybe that’s what made them so special. After all, why mess with a classic?

The sun rose as his work continued, and rays of bright yellow light pierced the balcony's glass doors. Amidst the flurry of simmering sauces, sticky doughs, and sliced fruit, Macintosh set a pair of plates and matching sets of utensils on the table. Octavia would be coming for breakfast soon, a daily ritual she had developed during Macintosh’s first morning in Canterlot.

Living so close to Octavia for a week had allowed him to pinpoint her favorites. The mare loved her sweets, especially for breakfast, and so when he made her pancakes (as he did today) he made sure to top them with whipped cream, chocolate syrup, powdered sugar, and plenty of glazed strawberries. He stacked up the pancakes at Octavia’s end of the table, the side shaded from the early morning sun. He set down a freshly pressed bowtie beside her mug of coffee sweetened with honeyed cream. On his own sunny side of the table he laid out a simple bowl of oatmeal garnished with blueberries. Brunch was only about three hours away, but Octavia had quite the appetite, and Macintosh didn’t plan to eat all that much anyway.

Summoned by the smell of breakfast, Octavia appeared from Mac’s guestroom and took a deep whiff of the air. It had taken Macintosh a while to figure out the optimal time for breakfast. The early morning sharpened Octavia’s tongue to an edge even he found too much to bear. Too late however, and not even her favorite meal could overcome her desire to sleep in. Ten o’ clock proved the perfect time. A time that found her civil and grateful.

Except today.

Today Octavia glared at her whip-topped pancakes as if they had insulted her talent and her intelligence. She grit her bared teeth at the stack, and Macintosh watched without a word as he set a pitcher of apple juice, another gift from Applejack, on the table.

Octavia took her plate and switched it with Mac’s bowl of oatmeal. She took a large spoonful of the goop and began to eat in silence. Macintosh sat to her right but didn’t touch the pancakes. He didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but there were more important matters to deal with than his preferences.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked.

“Fancy Pants cancelled my performance at his bachelor auction.”

“Really? I’m real sorry to hear that,” he said.

Octavia shrugged. “If this had been the first instance then I’d be happy to keep the deposit and enjoy the day off, but the cancellations keep coming. I haven’t played a gig this entire week.” She lifted her head from her bowl and glared at the syrup-soaked pancakes. “I don’t deserve such a divine, fattening breakfast.” She finished her oatmeal and tipped the bowl over. “Even this oatmeal is too delicious for me. Make me a bowl of rice gruel, would you? The more bland and watery, the better.”

Mac smiled at her and pushed the plate of flapjacks toward her. “C’mon now. You ain’t gotta earn a good breakfast. There’ll be more gigs soon, I know it. Heck, even if there ain’t, you’re plenty smart enough to figure out a way through it.”

Octavia eyed the pancakes, still hungry, and Mac pushed the plate even closer to her. She sighed, grabbed her fork, and dug in. Macintosh smiled as she ate and brought the empty bowl to the sink to wash.

“Apparently,” Octavia continued with a mouthful of breakfast, “there’s a new cellist in Canterlot. One that’s ‘easy-going’ and ‘a pleasure’ and isn’t ‘terrifying’ and ‘foul-mouthed’. No matter, I’ll just have to deal with them tonight.”

The intercom buzzed before she could elaborate further, not that Big Macintosh wanted to hear any more. He wanted plausible deniability. With a small smile, he went to the metal panel beside the door, and pushed the button to the speaker.

“Eeyup?”

“Macintosh, sweetie, it’s me,” Rarity’s garbled voice said. Macintosh pushed the unlock button for the entrance for only a split second and waited. “Macintosh, you didn’t hold it long enough,” Rarity’s voice came again. Mac pushed it again just as quick. “Macintosh!” And again. “Macintosh, do you really wish to annoy your tailor?”

“Forgive him, Rarity,” Octavia said, appearing beside Macintosh and pushing the button to speak. “He still hasn’t quite mastered the door yet.” She smirked and pressed the button for a fleeting moment.

“Octavia!”

Mac and Octavia stifled giggles and took turns pressing the unlock button for much too short a time. It was good to see Octavia laugh. They continued to press the button until a few vicious knocks struck the front door.

Octavia sidestepped in front of the door and tapped a few knocks back. Mac placed a hoof on her shoulder, caught her gaze, and shook his head. The knocks returned louder, and light blue magic enveloped the hinges. Mac hurried to unlock the door and opened it wide. He didn’t want to get sidetracked from preparing his brunch by any emergency repairs.

Rarity leaned against the doorframe, a foreleg slung across her head in a dramatic pose while saddlebags, stuffed with fabric, burdened her.

“Why do you love torturing me?” Rarity asked. Her eyes closed, tone thick like dialogue ripped from a television soap. She sashayed into the room, past Octavia and Mac. “Have I been anything but kind to you? I even came here to prepare your outfits for the bachelor auction not eight hours away, all for free. And yet this is how you treat me. Why oh why? Was breaking my heart not enough?”

Macintosh chuckled and pressed his cheek against hers. “Sorry there, sugarcube, we were just havin’ fun.”

Octavia did the same to Rarity’s other cheek. “Yes, harmless fun, that’s all. If there’s anything we can do to make it up to you please hesitate to ask.”

“Well, since you’re offering,” Rarity said with a smirk. “Macintosh, you can give me a little sample of today’s brunch. Octavia, you can take five steps away and tell me any gossip you might have while I ensure the fit of your dress. We have so much to do before the others show up. I can craft a high quality suit in a matter of days, but a suit and a dress along with six other outfits? If it were anypony else...well, I dare not entertain the thought.”

“How is my dress, by the way? Were the measurements I sent enough?” Octavia asked as she went to the center of the living room, Rarity close behind.

“We’ll see in a moment, dear, but might I say I love your choice of fabric.” Rarity levitated the dress, a black, extravagant mass of drapery and lace, onto Octavia and kept a tape measure and a few pins floating beside her, as well as keeping a couple of pins in her mouth. “Black satin. A rather fitting cloth, if I do say so myself. As dark as your soul and as smooth as your tongue.”

“You flatter me.”

Macintosh smiled as he prepared a small plate of halved strawberries. He took a tiny bowl and spooned in a dab of vanilla-infused ricotta cheese, whipped until light and airy, drizzled with deep amber honey. “If I didn’t know any better I’d call you two friends.”

“Bite your tongue before I bite it for you,” Octavia said.

Rarity giggled and began her work of tightening and loosening the garment into a perfect fit. She placed pins to hold the cloth in place, and wrote the needed alteration into a hovering notebook. Every so often she would take her eyes away from her work for a moment to admire the room around her.

“Macintosh, you’ve done such a marvelous job turning this apartment into a home.” Rarity gestured at the various framed paintings on the walls as she trimmed excess fabric from the hem of the dress. “Such beautiful artwork.” She stared at one painting in particular that hung over the mantle: the Canterlot skyline at night, void of both the moon and stars but lit with the windows of the skyscrapers and castle towers.

“Macintosh painted them,” Octavia said.

“Really? My goodness, Macintosh, to think you’ve gotten so much better in only a week,” Rarity said.

“It’s absolutely sickening how quickly he learns,” Octavia said.

Macintosh shrugged and set the plate of fruit on the coffee table beside Rarity. “I just do it for fun. It was Octavia’s idea to hang ‘em up.”

“Speaking of which,” Rarity said. “How is living right below Macintosh treating you, Octavia?”

“Fine, just fine, although I’m not as below as I would li–ow!” Octavia shot Rarity a glare. A small pin floated in the air, engulfed in blue magic, just above Octavia’s backside.

“So sorry, sweetie,” Rarity said with an innocent smile. “It must have slipped.”

“I’m about to let things slip,” Octavia muttered under her breath. “Don’t get cocky just because you had that little date with him at the beginning of the week.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Rarity said.

Macintosh rolled his eyes with a smile. He actually missed their little quips at each other. Of course, he would enjoy them much more if he wasn’t the reason for their sharp barbs at each other, but it all seemed in good fun, and so he said nothing to them about it.

A strawberry floated above the dish and dipped itself into the ricotta. Rarity rolled the pins to one side of her mouth and used the other to bite into the strawberry. She closed her eyes and hummed her approval.

“Absolutely delicious,” Rarity said. “If this is a sample, then I cannot wait to taste the entire meal. Also, Macintosh, I hear you have quite a selection of high-profile guests attending.”

“Eeyup,” Mac said. “Got the usual mares, of course. Then there’s Fancy Pants, been meaning to catch up with him since I moved out here. Prince Blueblood, I sent an invitation to him as a joke, but he accepted it. And Soarin and Spitfire are comin’ over too since they’re heading over here for the bachelor auction anyway.”

“My my, when did you become such a high-society socialite?” Octavia said with a smirk.

“Beats me,” Mac said. He went back to his cooking. “Are the others on the way, Rarity? I remember you sayin’ they wanted to come a bit early to see me.”

“Oh yes, they should be arriving any moment now. You left so suddenly they wanted to see you as soon as possible, especially a certain cyan pegasus.”

“Aw well, truth be told I can’t wait to see her either,” Mac said with a smile.

“Yes, well, I wish you good lu–” A knock came from the balcony window and interrupted Rarity.

Pinkie Pie had her face smushed against the glass, her cheeks and nose distorted in silly faces, and Mac had to stifle his laughter. She had five balloons tied around her midsection and the strings had slipped down her barrel, lifting her backside up into the air. As Mac went to the window to let her in he thought that perhaps her mouth’s suction on the glass was the only thing keeping her secured to the balcony.

Mac opened the balcony doors and pulled her in. She had all the weight of a crabapple. Pinkie Pie wrapped her forelegs around Mac and nuzzled his neck. “Hey there, Macky! I missed you sooo much.” Macintosh smiled as her cotton candy mane engulfed his snout, filling his nose with the familiar scent of sugar and vanilla. He had missed her too.

“Oh, I get it,” Octavia said. “I attempt a crass remark and get a prick in the flank, but Pinkie Pie comes and practically–”

Rarity touched the tip of Octavia’s nose to quiet her. “Oh, sweetie. If this is how you react to Pinkie Pie then I can’t imagine your reaction when Rainbow Dash arrives.”

Macintosh pretended not to hear them. “What’s goin’ on, Pinkie?” he asked her. Her forelegs were still wrapped tightly around his neck as an anchor keeping her from floating off to the ceiling. “Why’re ya as light as a feather?”

“Cause it’s fun!” Pinkie Pie said. “Also because I needed help carrying your house warming gift here. Twilight offered to teleport it here, but that sounded boring, so I told her to put a featherweight spell on me and the cake. I tied a few balloons to me and the cake and voila! Pretty cool, right? Except I lost the cake in a jet stream between Ponyville and Canterlot, it might be in Manehattan by now, but it was this really great ice cream cake with–”

“Sounds delicious, Pinkie.” Mac interrupted her before he could lose himself in her usual rambling. “But I’m just glad you’re here. When’s this spell supposed to wear off?” He looked over at Rarity and gestured up to Pinkie with a hoof. She understood and used her magic to untie the balloons.

“It doesn’t!” Pinkie said with a giggle as she floated to the ground. “I have to wait for Twilight to de-spell me.”

“Sounds like a mighty risky spell to put on ya,” Mac said. “Wasn’t she worried you’d get blown away?”

“That’s why Rainbow Dash came with me, but I lost her in the jet stream too when she went after the cake.”

“Guess that’s my cue,” Rainbow Dash said from the balcony. She leaned against the door frame while wearing a pair of black shades. She wore a cap embroidered with the Wonderbolt insignia, marking her as a new recruit. If asked, Mac would have said she looked cool. Cold even, considering the mounds of chocolate chip ice cream on her back.

Macintosh held back his chuckles as he approached her. He took a dab of ice cream on his hoof and tasted it. Not bad, though he preferred salted caramel.

“Nice to see ya, Dash,” Mac said, taking her sunglasses and hat from her. The sunglasses had been hiding a glare that took him aback for a moment. Well, if he had been covered with ice cream, he supposed he wouldn’t be too happy either. He set her personal effects on the dining table.

“What’s it been? A week? Figured you already went over to Cloudsdale and forgot all about me.” Macintosh chuckled at his own little joke, but his teeth soon clenched. Something ice cold pressed against his stomach and slid its way up his chest. Rainbow Dash crawled out from between Mac’s forelegs, her back still slick with melted ice cream, but the vast majority now stuck to Mac’s underside.

Rainbow Dash looked over her shoulder and gave Mac a scowl. “That’s for not coming to my party.”

Mac stood still, ice cream dripping on the floor. He gave thanks for the simple things in life. Hardwood floors and pony coats, both easy to clean, as well as Rainbow Dash’s love of cider and the ease with which he could bargain for her forgiveness.

All the while Octavia stared at the two of them. “Food play,” she muttered under her breath. “And to think I wasted all my time worrying about you,” She turned to Rarity, but Rarity had finished her fruit half a minute ago and was now levitating a towel to help clean Macintosh off.

Mac grabbed the towel from the air. “Gonna go to the bathroom to clean up.” He slipped away a bit quicker than he intended, but hopefully no one noticed how eagerly he pursued the promise of a few minutes alone.

He closed the bathroom door behind him and started wiping away the ice cream, already half melted and sticking to his coat. He really messed up this time, and perhaps just a bottle of cider wouldn’t be enough. Heck, there may not be an apple beverage that could convince her to forgive him. Ah well, hopefully Dash would simmer down with time. If not, then he was prepared to grovel. He was sure she’d enjoy that. He just hoped Octavia didn’t get the wrong idea. No, wait. Octavia getting jealous? She didn’t seem like the type. Especially if it concerned him.

He couldn’t wait until the others arrived. Twilight had a talent for keeping the others somewhat level-headed, Fluttershy’s very presence offered a calm atmosphere on its own, and Applejack knew how to reel a pony in if they got a bit too carried away. Of course, Applejack had said she might be a little late. He might have to give his gift to Dash a bit earlier than expected, with or without Applejack.

He threw the towel in his hamper and left the bathroom.

“So that’s where you all stand?” Octavia’s voice said.

Mac came out just in time to see everyone nod their heads. Did he even want to know? No, he did not, and so he pretended not to hear a thing. Dash followed Mac with the glare of a scorned mare. Thankfully, there was a buzz at the intercom, and Macintosh trotted over to answer. He pressed the button, and a familiar voice crackled from the other side.

“Hey, big brother, it’s Applejack.”

He held the button for a few seconds and released. He didn’t think Applejack would appreciate his joke like Rarity did. Truthfully, he just wanted them to get into his apartment as quickly as possible. If anyone could help him out of Dash’s ire, Applejack could.

His wish was granted, and it only took about a minute for a knock to come at his door. He opened it, and his eyes widened as he was greeted by a mess of leaves and branches engulfed in magic. He backed off as Twilight levitated a miniature apple tree into the middle of his living room.

“Surprise!” Applejack shouted. Fluttershy followed her in.

“Do you like it?” Fluttershy asked.

Macintosh smiled as he looked at the short stout trunk, with branches heavy with full-sized apples and bursting with large green leaves, planted in a huge ceramic pot. The apples all looked healthy and delicious too. It came from a good stock, no doubt about that. His smile widened as he realized he would have to take care of it. It would be winter soon, and there were dozens of precautions and preventive measures he would have to take.

“I love it,” Mac said. “Let me put it on the balcony, it’ll get plenty of sun there.”

“I’ve got it, Macintosh,” Twilight said, engulfing the tree in her magic again. She levitated it out to the balcony without much trouble.

Mac nodded. He would have to clean up after the fallen leaves, fertilize the soil, and prune the branches. In fact, the tree looked downright tiny on his balcony. It could definitely stand to grow a couple more feet high and a few more inches thick. He could hardly wait to paint it as it changed with the seasons.

Once Twilight finished placing the apple tree, she took a look around the living room and kitchen. “This is a really nice apartment.” Her eyes stopped at a bookshelf large enough to take up an entire wall in the living room. “Glad to see the books and bookshelf I teleported here came in one piece.”

“Eeyup, the boxes of books came okay, but the shelf ended up in the bathtub.”

“Oh, I hope that didn’t cause any trouble for you,” Twilight said.

“It came while I was taking a bath.”

Twilight laughed, but Macintosh only gave her a half lidded stare. Beneath his stoic gaze, Twilight’s laughter crumbled into an awkward, forced chuckle.

Mac broke into a smile. “I’m just teasing,” he assured Twilight, and she relaxed. “But joking aside, work on yer aim. Got the breath squeezed right outta me.”

Twilight blushed and darted her gaze away from him. “S-sorry.”

A hoof pressed into Mac’s ribs. Applejack met his gaze and she darted her eyes toward Rainbow Dash. He gave Applejack a nod. It was about that time, wasn’t it? He cleaned the dining room table and cleared it of dishes, and then he rummaged around his kitchen cabinets. He finally found a gift bag decorated with lightning bolts and clouds and stuffed with blue tissue. He almost forgot where he put the damn thing given that he and Applejack had made sure Rainbow Dash’s gift was up to snuff.

“Y’all gather ‘round,” Applejack said as Mac placed the bag on the table. “Me an’ Mac wanna give Rainbow her gift.”

Rainbow Dash puffed up her wings. “Don’t go thinking you can buy my forgiveness like you can with Rarity,” she said.

“What’d Ah do to get ya so upset?” Applejack asked with a tilt of her head.

“Not you. Mac. He didn’t come to my party, and he was the first one I told. He didn’t even pop in for a quick hello, then we had to find out from Granny Smith that he moved out that night. Just up and left without a ‘see ya later’ or ‘I’m gonna miss ya’ or ‘thanks’ or anything.” Rainbow Dash turned to him and took a few steps toward him. “What the hell, Mac? Why’d you just disappear like that? Geez, made me feel like I wasn’t anypony special, you know?”

Macintosh pressed his lips into a tight line and took a deep breath. “I’m really sorry for making you think for even a second that you didn’t matter to me, sugarcube, and for leaving Ponyville so suddenly. You mean a lot to me, and that’s the honest truth, I just didn’t think you really needed me around anymore.”

Dash sighed. “Mac, you’re an idiot.” She tapped his snout with a hoof. “I don’t need you around. I want you around. You get me?”

“Not really,” Mac said, “but I’ll take it as a compliment. Can you forgive me?”

“It’s cool. I wasn’t all that upset anyway.”

“She’s lying!” Pinkie Pie said with glee. She had managed to grab a balloon and floated an inch off the ground. “You should’ve seen her mope around Sugarcube Corner! All ‘jerkface this’ and ‘numbskull that’ for days!”

“Shut up, Pinkie!” Rainbow Dash said. “L-Let’s hurry up with those presents. I wanna see what you guys got me.”

Macintosh smiled. “Sure thing, sugarcube. I’ll let Applejack go first.”

Applejack nodded and rummaged through the bag. “You best thank me, Rainbow. Applebuck Season just ended, and Ah made sure to pick the very best apples for this.” Applejack pulled out a bottle of apple cider and set it on the table. Rainbow Dash eyed the bottle like Octavia eyed a slice of cheesecake. “The first cider of the new harvest.”

“And this is from me,” Mac said before Rainbow Dash could say anything. He knew full well the predictability of his gift, so there wasn’t much of a point to draw out the suspense. He dipped a hoof into the bag and fished out a bottle of applejack. “I had to swindle some of Applejack’s cider to make this. It’s applejack made from the best cider made from the best apples.”

Rainbow Dash stared at the bottles and then at the Apple siblings. She went to them and wrapped her forelegs around their necks and brought them close. “I love you guys.” She squeezed them tighter. “A lot.”

“Group hug!” Pinkie called out, and soon Applejack and Mac found themselves in the middle of a giant hug. Mac’s cheeks burned and became a bit more crimson than usual.

“You have to be kidding me,” Octavia muttered, staying behind by the balcony door.

-*-

After a tour of his new apartment (and after Twilight undid her spell on Pinky), Rarity showed off her dresses. They were all going to attend, and so Rarity had brought dresses for everyone. The mares awed at their decadently sewn outfits. Once Rarity had her ego properly massaged with dozens of compliments, Macintosh showed her the guest bedroom where she could hang the dresses in the empty closet. They would be ready to go at a moment’s notice.

Afterwards, Rarity focused her attention on finishing Octavia’s dress, and the buzz of conversation centered around Mac as the mares asked him questions about Canterlot. Yes, he enjoyed the mountain air. Yes, he had visited most of the museums and galleries. Yes, the ponies here were mostly friendly, except for a few minor incidents.

Before they could ask about those incidents, Macintosh asked questions of his own. He asked Fluttershy how her animals were doing, and asked Rarity for gossip about difficult clients. He asked Rainbow Dash when she was leaving for training camp, and asked Pinkie how the Cakes were doing. He asked Twilight if she had any recommendations for good, not-too-highbrow poetry.

He asked Applejack about the farm. The apples had the perfect balance of sweet and tart this year, and they sure grew juicy enough to make excellent cider. How were the tree trunks this season? Did they have that familiar spring that sent a recoil up your legs and shook your spine with a pleasing shiver? How were the new farmhands? Were they happy? It wasn’t every day that a pony got the chance to work on the world famous Sweet Apple Acres, after all.

He asked her all these things, and Applejack asked if he missed the farm. He shook his head with a laugh and waved the question away with a hoof.

Though Octavia was in the center of the room, she kept to the edge of the conversation. She watched Mac and the others while Rarity focused on her black satin dress. All the while Mac kept an eye on her. She wasn’t the most sociable pony, obviously, but staying silent was unlike her. Usually in small gatherings like this she would butt in with a quip or two and take delight in the resulting reddening faces. Now, however, she did nothing of the sort. He shrugged the thought away. He was absolutely certain that Octavia would go back to her old self once the other guests arrived. For now, he would take care of the last little details for his brunch.

The mares sat and talked amongst themselves in the living room, and Macintosh set out a fuller platter of strawberries and dip on the coffee table for his guests to enjoy and poured them drinks. Coffee for Applejack, Dash, and Octavia; tea for Rarity, Fluttershy, and Twilight; and a soda for Pinkie Pie. He placed each one on the coffee table as well without making a sound or distracting from their conversation.

Macintosh arranged the plates and utensils around the dining table, and just when he finished placing the last fork, Rarity proclaimed her latest dress finished and freed Octavia from the black satin.

“Thank you, Rarity,” Octavia said. She gulped down her coffee. “I’m actually rather impressed by the design.”

“Why thank you,” Rarity said with a proud grin. Octavia’s dress floated across the room and into Mac’s guest bedroom to hang with the others. “Of course, designing a dress for one of Equestria’s top musicians was quite an honor.”

Mac smiled at their civility, but he didn’t have much time to enjoy it. Rarity wrapped the measuring tape around Mac’s neck and pulled him onto the center of the room. Rarity ducked her head to look at the measurement.

“I don’t have enough time to fit the suit as I measure, I hardly have time to remove your apron, but I can still get your proper measurements and with those the fitting will...go by...quicker...” Rarity’s voice trailed into nothing as she stared at the tape. She unwound it from his neck and shook her head. She took his foreleg and wrapped the tape around his fetlock, then around his stomach. She gazed at the tape for several long moments. The gears in her head worked at a fever pitch.

“Everything alright, Rarity?” Mac asked.

Rarity jerked her gaze away from the tape, and her eyes went from Macintosh to the other mares in the room and then back to Macintosh. They all stared at her, curious. “Oh, it’s nothing. Nothing at all. I was simply visualizing the alterations I would have to make.” Rarity tossed away her measuring tape. “Anyway, Macintosh sweetie, how has the move treated you? Moving can put so much stress on a pony, especially when moving to higher elevations with thinner air. Any dizziness? Fainting spells? Nausea? General weakness?”

Macintosh shrugged. “None of that. I’ve actually felt pretty great the past week.” The intercom buzzed before he could say more. Macintosh hurried to the speaker and pressed the button to greet the pony on the other side.

“Eeyup?” Mac said.

“Oi, Mac! It’s Soarin along with Spitfire and Fancy Pants–”

“Hey, Mac! How’s it goin’?”

“Spit, there’s plenty of time for small talk once we’re outta this cold. Oh, Mac, there’s also some really frilly-maned guy here I don’t really recognize.”

“You know exactly who I am you feathered imbecile,” Prince Blueblood’s annoyed voice garbled through the speaker. “Don’t think your celebrity status will make me so lax to such unseemly treatment.”

“Mac, uh, did you really invite this guy?” Soarin whispered into the intercom. “He seems kind of...on edge.”

“Move over!” Prince Blueblood commanded. “Listen here, you crimson cretin, let me in this instant. It’s bad enough you had the gall to invite me to your little hoedown, as you farm folk are apt to call these things, but to make me stand in this freezing autumn wind is simply deplorable!”

“Now now, Blueblood, a little patience if you’d please,” Fancy Pants said.

“Yeah, you’re really gettin’ on my nerves, pretty boy,” Spitfire said.

“How dare you–”

Macintosh released the button and pressed the other to let them in. Spitfire, Soarin, Fancy Pants, Blueblood, Octavia. He had, at first, been worried that the Elements of Harmony might be a bit too much for them. Now, he wondered if perhaps they were too much for the Elements of Harmony. Aw well, it would definitely make for an interesting brunch.

A knock came from the door, and Macintosh held his breath as he grabbed the doorknob. At that moment he felt like a radical artist. A painter mixing two clashing colors on the same canvas, a writer switching tenses in the same paragraph, a chemist about to mix two volatile chemicals. And yet he was deathly curious to see the unique havoc about to be wrought.

He opened the door, and the rest of his guests poured in as Macintosh welcomed them. Fancy Pants and the Wonderbolts attracted their own groups of conversation as the Elements of Harmony went to say their hellos. Blueblood didn’t have such magnetism, and so Macintosh brought it upon himself to greet the prince.

“Howdy, Blueblood,” Mac said. “Glad you could make it.”

“Yes, well, consider yourself fortunate that you caught me on one of my very rare free days.” Blueblood didn’t make eye contact, and instead examined Mac’s apartment with narrowed eyes. “You have a very...quaint home. Landscapes are a bit cloying and clichéd, undaring and eager to please, but I suppose you of all ponies would play it safe with your choice of art.”

“A pleasure as always, Blueblood,” Mac said.

“I agree,” Blueblood said, either ignorant or uncaring of Mac’s obvious sarcasm. “Now what sort of gruel do you plan on feeding us?”

An oven dinged, and Mac was grateful for the chance to get back to preparing his brunch. “I’ll have all the food out in just a few minutes. Then you can see for yourself,” Mac said. He turned to the others and caught their attention with a quick whistle. “Go ahead and sit down wherever ya like, everypony, the food’ll be ready real soon.”

“Do you need any help, Macintosh?” Twilight asked, her horn already glowing.

“Nnope,” Mac said. “It’ll be more dramatic if I reveal the dishes one at a time.” Most of the food was already in family-sized platters, and Macintosh took his time bringing each dish to the table, announcing the food as he set down the large plates. Apple cinnamon pancakes, fresh fruit salad, scrambled eggs, baskets of biscuits along with a boat of mushroom gravy, mixed berry muffins, more of the strawberries with ricotta dip, hushpuppies, quiche, a basket of whole apples, hashbrowns, and finally–

“A soufflé!?” Blueblood said. “You made a soufflé?”

“Eeyup,” Mac said proudly. “Spinach and cheese.”

“Ha!” Blueblood snickered. “An impressive amount of food, I will admit. But such quantity must inevitably be followed by a drop in quality. So this soufflé can’t live up to its good looks.” Blueblood sliced into the soufflé and served himself, and Macintosh removed his apron, slipped on an old suit jacket he hid on a hook magnetized to the side of the fridge, and took a seat at the end of the table. Blueblood took a forkful into his mouth. He chewed it for several seconds, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled it slowly.

“It is...acceptable,” Blueblood said through clenched teeth.

Macintosh chuckled. “You heard him, everypony. It’s got the Blueblood seal of approval, so dig in.”

Dishes were passed, magicked, and thrown in a flurry as everyone went to grab a bit of everything. As Mac expected, Octavia had a pile of food on her plate, neatly stacked like a miniature skyscraper, but she wasn’t the only one. Rainbow Dash and the Wonderbolts also had piles of food, as did Pinkie Pie and Applejack. The others had more...civil portions on their plate. Mac just hoped he made enough.

He grabbed an apple and bit into it. He leaned back on his chair and enjoyed the sight of ponies enjoying the fruits of his hard work. Once everyone had their food, conversation of polite volume sprung up from the table. Mac smiled. If this wasn’t nice, then he didn’t know what was.

“Macintosh,” Blueblood said, tipping the boat of white gravy toward him. “What is this?”

Mac quirked an eyebrow. “It’s mushroom gravy.”

Blueblood stared at Mac. “Are we supposed to drink it?”

“You pour it on the biscuits to make biscuits and gravy,” Mac explained.

“Biscuits and gravy?” Blueblood took a biscuit and poured gravy over it. He grimaced at the sight of the combination, but took a fork to it nonetheless. He swallowed and nodded. “Ah, yes, I understand. Biscuits and gravy. A provincial dish, no doubt, but...also acceptable.”

“Mac, everything tastes great,” Soarin said through a mouthful of pancakes. “I can’t believe a guy that cooks as good as you is single.” Soarin tapped his chin and stared at Mac for a moment. “You are single, right? Because sometimes I swear it’s like you're dating everypony and nopony all at the same time.”

“Eeyup, still single,” Mac said. “Not for a lack of tryin’ though.”

“Not to worry, Macintosh,” Fancy Pants said. “That is what bachelor auctions are for, after all.”

“I can hope,” Mac said with a smile. “How’s it all work, anyway? I ain’t embarrassed to say that I get more nervous the closer we get to it. Just thinking about standin’ up in front of so many ponies that probably won’t bid on me gives me shivers.”

“Oh there’s absolutely nothing to be nervous about. It’s a silent auction. Things tended to get rather...unseemly when we used the traditional bidding system. I’m sure a successful stallion such as yourself has nothing to fear. As well, I’m quite proud to say that the bachelor auctions I organize not only raise large sums for charity, but they have also led to a very high number of happy marriages.” Fancy Pants squinted his monocle-clad eye in thought. “In fact, I’ll position you as this year’s ‘Featured Bachelor’. Since the very first auction, the featured bachelor has always gone on to happily marry their highest bidder.”

“Wait, really?” Soarin said. “What about last year with Silver Sling? He was as straight as an arrow and his top bidder was a stallion.”

“Was Silver Sling last year’s featured bachelor?” Blueblood asked with a roll of his eyes.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Then he’s happily married to that stallion.”

“Oooo, can’t beat a testimonial like that,” Pinkie Pie said. “I’ll bid on you, Macky. Then your apple pie recipe will finally be mine.” Pinkie wringed her fetlocks together with a maniacal laugh.

Macintosh smiled. “I’d take you a bit more seriously if you didn’t have syrup all over your muzzle.”

“Wanna lick it off?” Pinkie asked with a wave of her eyebrows.

Macintosh almost choked on a bite of apple.

“Everypony and nopony, all at the same time,” Soarin whispered to Spitfire loud enough for everyone to hear.

Rainbow Dash decided to enter the conversation too. “Now that you mention it, Pinkie, I get a pretty nice stipend while I’m at training. Maybe I’ll bid too, you know, since it’s for charity and all.”

“Why don’t you all bid at the auction,” Octavia said. “Perhaps if you all had mates of your own you would stop bothering to come here to steal Mac away from...his free time.”

“You kidding?” Applejack said with a laugh. “Then he would have twice as many mouths to feed during these get-togethers.”

“I wouldn’t mind none, either,” Mac said with a smile.

“Are you quite sure you need to be the featured bachelor?” Blueblood said with a huff. “There are other stallions, stallions without an entourage of celebrity mares, that could be featured.”

“Stallions like you?” Spitfire asked.

“Exactly,” Blueblood said. “I myself am a hunter of the most elusive treasure we call true love. Oh, I long for the day I find a pony suited to me: beautiful, intelligent, gracious, reserved.” He gave them a wistful sigh and took a bite of pancake.

“Maybe you should bid on Macky too!” Pinkie said.

Blueblood and Macintosh both coughed and spluttered through their food. Macintosh thumped his chest. At this rate, Pinkie was sure to kill him.

“Aristocratic!” Blueblood said. “They must be aristocratic.”

“Aw, well, now you’re just being picky,” Pinkie said.

“I hate to say it, but Blueblood’s got a point,” Mac said. “I’m sure there’s other bachelors that need all the luck they can get.”

“Hold on, Macintosh,” Twilight said. She turned to Fancy Pants. “You said that the featured bachelor has a high chance of being happily married. Do you have any hard numbers behind that?”

“Well, allow me to do a bit of math,” Fancy Pants stroked his mustache. “There have been eight so far, and every featured bachelor is happily married except for that one year where the bachelor’s wife found out he participated without her knowing, so that would be...”

“Eighty-seven and a half percent success,” Macintosh said. “Not bad, but the small number of auctions makes it hard to see it more than a lucky happenstance. If there’d been a hundred auctions then that would be something.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Twilight said. “With that said, though, I think you should do it, Macintosh. It’ll be fun, and I’m sure you’ll raise a lot of bits. Canterlot has a really high ratio of mares to stallions. Not to mention that you’re...you.”

“Yeah, Mac,” Soarin said. “I know I would bid on you, and I don’t think Spitfire would even mind.”

“I would, but maybe not as much as if it were another stallion,” Spitfire added.

“Aw heck, y’all are set to make me blush my cheeks right off my face,” Big Mac said with a smile. “Still, I ain’t too sure of how successful I would be at the auction. I mean, I’m sure the ponies of Canterlot are expectin’ a lot from the bachelors. Sure, I live in Canterlot now but, well, I ain’t no Fancy Pants.”

“That’s the most sensible thing you have ever uttered,” Blueblood said.

“Nonsense,” Fancy Pants said. “Undoubtedly, the ponies at attendance are used to certain accoutrements, but that’s no reason to think you would show poorly.”

“Yeah, big brother,” Applejack said. “You’ll do fine. Heck, if yer really worried about it I could teach ya how to talk with a big city accent.”

Blueblood laughed. “And what would you know about such accents?”

Applejack smirked. “Why, Prince Blueblood, I am well-versed in the various elocutive stylings of ponies currently residing in the grand city of Manehattan, for I have spent quite some time there with my dear Aunt and Uncle Orange. More noble ponies do not exist, I assure you.”

Blueblood’s jaw dropped, and Mac flinched. For some reason, Applejack’s Manehattan accent always made his stomach turn. It sounded so unlike her. A false persona, a lie, coming from the Element of Honesty. Octavia asked Applejack where she got her high class accent, and as Applejack recounted the tale of her cutie mark, Macintosh’s gaze wandered. He didn’t much like hearing that story. He caught sight of his apple tree out on the balcony and the Canterlot skyline beyond. He pressed his lips together in a thoughtful frown, and finished his apple.

He moved to place the core onto his plate but found a stack of pancakes there, drizzled in syrup with a dab of butter on top. Macintosh raised an eyebrow and looked down the table. The pancakes were all the way on the other side. Mac then looked at the ponies seated, specifically the unicorns and Pinkie Pie. All of them were paying attention to the current conversation, none of them even looked in his direction.

Well, he couldn’t let good pancakes go to waste. So with a quiet promise to keep a careful watch on his plate, Macintosh grabbed his fork and tucked in. The conversation flowed smoothly even without Macintosh acting the gracious host, and so he relaxed a bit and listened in without the pressure of adding to the topic.

“So Soarin’s a bachelor too?” Rainbow Dash asked. “How’s that work?”

Spitfire shrugged. “I mean, I could just donate some bits, but it boosts his confidence to have ponies pay to spend time with him, and a confident Soarin is a focused Soarin, and as captain of the Wonderbolts I have to do whatever it takes to make sure my vice captain is performing at the top of his game.”

“Whatever it takes,” Soarin repeated, draping his foreleg over Spitfire.

“Plus I want to donate his fair market value,” Spitfire said, “and it’s interesting to see what other stallions I could get for the same price.”

“Good luck,” Soarin said with a grin. “We both know me being a Wonderbolt artificially inflates my value. If I’m not careful they’re gonna put me away for securities fraud.”

Mac smiled as the conversation continued. He ate his pancakes at a leisurely pace, and by the time he finished eating so had everyone else. There was nothing left but empty dishes, and Macintosh got up and cleared the table. He placed the dirty dishes in the sink to wash later, and brought back his apple pies and several glasses of coffee and tea. He presented the pies amidst loud cheers from Pinkie Pie, and after setting down a bowl of sugarcubes and a small, porcelain pitcher of cream, Mac returned to his seat.

The talk remained small but easy for another hour as the ponies sipped their drinks and ate apple pie. Finally, Fancy Pants peered at his pocket watch and closed it with a snap.

“My oh my, I really must be going to put the finishing touches on the auction,” he said. He stood up and gave Macintosh a bow. “Thank you for inviting me into your home and preparing such a delectable brunch. I do hope you’ll invite me over again soon.”

Macintosh stood as well. “It was nice having you over. That goes for all of ya.”

“Thanks Mac,” Spitfire said. “We gotta get going too. We still have to get dressed and such. We should have you over at Cloudsdale sometime. We won’t be able to cook for ya, but we have some damn good bars over there. But you already know that, huh?”

Macintosh smiled. “Eeyup.”

They said their drawn out goodbyes and Spitfire, Soarin, Fancy Pants, and Blueblood left in good spirits. Macintosh closed the front door behind them. A job well done if he could say so himself. He needed to invite them again soon. Just not too soon.

“What an enlightening visit,” Octavia said. She fought back a yawn. “I’m going to take a nap. I’m using your guestroom, Macintosh. The one that doesn’t have all the dresses inside its closet.”

“A nap?” Rarity asked. “But the auction starts in just a few hours.”

Octavia shrugged. “Then I’ll arrive late.”

“Late? But Octavia–”

“Rarity!” Octavia snapped. She turned and bared clenched teeth for a moment before taking a deep breath and regaining her composure. She moved a stray strand of her mane behind her ear. “We can’t all be little, precious debutantes flouncing on our tippy-hooves and fluttering our eyelashes at all the attractive mares and stallions, now can we? I am tired and need a nap if I am to be civil and demure at the auction. If I am late, then I am late. I’ll simply meet with you all later. I assure you I know the way.” Octavia turned to the other mares, all of them staring at her. “Ladies.”

Octavia went into the upstairs guestroom and slammed the door, and Rarity huffed in frustration. She paced around the room in a heated seethe, mumbling unkind and unladylike things beneath her breath. Mac smiled and placed a gentle hoof on her shoulder, putting himself in the crossfire of Rarity’s glare. Mac remained undaunted.

“Still gotta fit me for my suit, right? An awfully nice suit. Probably your best,” he said.

Rarity released all her frustrations in a sigh. “Yes, I suppose I do.” She turned to the others. “Girls, if you could all dress in the downstairs guestroom, I’ll style your manes and tails right after I’m done with Big Macintosh’s tuxedo. Feel free to gossip without me.”

“Sure thing, Rare,” Applejack said. “C’mon everypony, let’s give these two some privacy.”

Rarity rolled her eyes but said nothing while the others went to put on their dresses. They closed the door behind them, and Macintosh and Rarity were left alone in the silent living room. Rarity wasted no time in fetching Mac’s unfitted suit, undressing him, and draping the new suit on him.

“I try, Macintosh. I really do try,” Rarity said, and Macintosh didn’t need to ask her what she meant. “But I just don’t understand her. One day she looks at me like dirt beneath her hooves and the next day we’re having a deep conversation in the spare bedroom at Sweet Apple Acres.”

“Deep conversation?” Macintosh repeated.

Rarity shrugged. “Oh, the usual. Hopes, dreams, futures. She had some lovely things to say about you, and we even made a guess as to how many bits you’ll bring at the auction.” Rarity levitated Mac’s suit jacket to him and helped him put it on. “How has she been with you?”

Macintosh hummed in thought. He gestured a hoof toward the room upstairs that Octavia just went into. “She’s slept in that room every night since I got here. She’s got her cello in there.” Mac looked around the room. “Those’re her pots and pans in my kitchen and her groceries in my fridge. Her apartment’s just a floor below me, but she still brought all her books and put ‘em on my bookshelf. See that recliner? She had me bring it up. Just woke up one day and told me to get it.”

“It sounds as if she’s put you through a lot of trouble.”

Macintosh smiled. “Ain’t no trouble at all. I really enjoy her company, and I think she likes mine. Which is really sayin’ something since Octavia ain’t really good with other ponies. She likes to be alone.”

Rarity nodded. “It certainly sounds as if things are going well. Have you two...” Rarity paused for a moment with her eyes up and to the left in thought, “...made things official? I was so confused during the conversation at brunch. I thought you two might have wanted to keep it a secret.”

“Aw, well...” Macintosh trailed off and tried to think of good words. “She’s made it pretty clear that she ain’t interested in a traditional relationship. She wants to keep things...physical. We’re just looking for different things, is all. Until one of us changes our mind we’re just friends.”

“I see,” Rarity said. “And I suppose you’ve been trying to convince her to do just that?”

“Of course not,” Macintosh said. “It ain’t my place to persuade her into something she doesn’t want, just as it ain’t her place to try to do the same to me. Besides, it ain’t bad being friends with her. She’s fun to talk to.”

Rarity smiled. “Just what I would expect from you. And how have you been since our...well, I suppose we can call it a date despite the object of discussion.”

Mac raised an eyebrow. He would have thought their date would be the last thing Rarity would want to talk about. He proceeded with caution, acutely aware of all the feelings tied into the topic. “Been just fine. You?”

Rarity sighed. “It’s been...difficult.”

They proceeded with the fitting in utter silence. They avoided each other’s eyes, Mac keeping his gaze at the far corner, but eye contact proved the least of his concerns. Simple things Rarity did, things like brushing off a string of lint or pressing down on a pleat, felt like an errant touch that lasted just a moment too long. Why didn’t she just use her magic? It would be so much easier for both of them. But even her touch paled in comparison to her perfume: a light scent that wafted into his nose and reminded him of the first-blooming smells of spring. The sweetness of flowers and the spice of citrus all mixed with the scent of honeyed syrup on her breath.

He remembered that time long ago when he first went to Rarity for a suit. This was much worse. At least then he could attribute his feelings to his general discomfort around ponies he didn’t know. The awkwardness was nothing but him being thrown into an unfamiliar situation. But now he and Rarity knew each other with a greater degree of familiarity. Now the danger came with the risk of becoming too familiar.

Maybe she didn’t feel the same way. Maybe that’s why she managed to stay so composed. He should really stop thinking so much about these things.

Rarity knotted his tie a little too tight. Mac tried to tell her that, but before he could speak their eyes met, and they were caught. Mac knew then that Rarity held the same feelings as him. Rarity held on to his tie and used it to pull him closer to her. Their noses a hair’s breadth away, their mouths slightly agape.

“Rarity,” Mac whispered, “we can’t–”

“I know,” Rarity said, “but isn’t it fun to pretend?” Rarity pulled him in closer, and Macintosh didn’t resist.

A blue cannonball crashed into Mac’s side, knocking the breath out of his lungs and sending him rolling on the floor. He stopped on his back, a weight on his full stomach, and when the room returned to focus he saw a mane of many colors. A pair of eyes stared down at him, eyes the same deep pink of cooked cherries. Mac groaned as he recognized the mare.

“Rainbow Dash, are you insane?” Rarity said. “You’re going to dirty a perfectly excellent suit. Not to mention your horrible timing.”

“Yeah, what’s the big idea, Dash?” Mac asked.

“What? I just saw you wide open and thought I’d catch you off guard. I mean, what’s the big deal? I’ve smacked into ya way harder than that, right?” Rainbow Dash tilted her head and cupped her chin. “You feelin’ okay, Mac? Usually you’re a lot harder to knock down. You’re not going soft on me, are you?”

Macintosh looked at the guestroom door and found it still shut. With a grunt, Mac rolled over and tossed Dash off of him. “I gave up farm work to live in a posh apartment doing nothing but painting the same damn cityscape every day for a week. Of course I’m goin’ soft!” Mac rubbed his side and hissed in pain at the touch. Damn, she had definitely left a mark.

“Are you okay, Macintosh?” Rarity asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Mac said. “Just a bruise is all.” He sighed and rolled his shoulders.

“Wow Mac, I didn’t think I’d hurt you that much. You really are going a bit soft,” Rainbow Dash said. She pressed a hoof against his side, and Mac winced. “Now that you’re out of the farm you’re all...not strong and tough anymore.”

Mac grit his teeth and pushed her hoof away. “If yer trying to apologize then yer doin’ a real bad job at it.”

“Apologize for what?” Rainbow Dash said. “For doing what I usually do around you? Why’re you takin’ it out on me? It’s not my fault you can’t take a tackle anymore.” She glared at him, and Macintosh wondered where the heck all this hostility was coming from.

Macintosh stepped forward, jaw clenched. “Let me get this straight. You knock me down and gimme a pretty big bruise by the feel of it, and you’re actin’ like I’m overreacting? You tryin’ to hurt me on purpose or something?”

Rainbow Dash took a step toward him, ready for a rebuttal, but Rarity’s hoof on her chest stopped her.

“Okay, everypony take a deep breath,” she said, putting herself between Big Macintosh and Rainbow Dash. “Before you get yourselves into a shouting match, think about what exactly this is all about. Because honestly if this had happened a month ago you two would be rolling in a heap on the ground and I would be trying my best to separate the two of you before the others walked in and grossly misread the situation. Now, Macintosh, your suit is just about finished, and so I will go help the others with their manes and leave you two alone to talk things out. All right?” Neither of them answered her. “All right.”

She patted each of their shoulders and went into the guestroom. She glanced back at them before closing the door behind her. The talk of mares faded away as the door closed, and Mac and Dash were left alone.

“Alright, Dash, what’s goin’ on?” Macintosh asked. “Are you still mad at me for not going to your party?”

“No, course not,” Dash said. She turned her back to him and rubbed the back of her neck. “Rarity’s right, you know? If this had happened a month ago we would have rolled around on the ground and had a ton of fun while Rarity’s face got all red.” She looked over her shoulder, a hint of a smile on her lips, but she sighed and it disappeared. “You ever think, Mac, that maybe moving over here wasn’t the best thing to do?”

Mac ran a hoof through his mane. “Let me show you something, Dash.” He led her into the kitchen, and she followed him to a door meant to be the pantry. Mac opened it and revealed dozens of painted canvases stacked on top of each other. The scent of paint hung heavy in the air, and tubes of paint and cups of paintbrushes filled the shelves attached to the inside of the door.

Dash rummaged through the canvases, taking out one of a rainy sky Mac had painted a couple days ago. He had seen a few pegasi manipulating the storm clouds within the gaps between the gray. Nothing resembling an entire pony, only a tail here, a snout there, a pair of eyes there. Those small peeks provided pops of color amongst the dreary sky.

Rainbow Dash touched a painted cloud, as if she could wrangle it herself. “Wow, Mac, this is amazing.” She took the painting and leaned it against the kitchen island. She stared at it for a long time with the same intensity she stared at the actual sky. “Alright, I get it,” Dash finally said after a minute. “If living here makes you paint stuff like this, then I guess it's not so bad.”

Macintosh looked back at the painting-filled pantry. Figures she would pick one of the few unique landscapes he painted, and not one of the dozen of the same blue sky and the same skyline. He looked back at Dash. She was still staring at the painting. He touched his bruised side and sighed.

Mac went up to her, placed a hoof on her side, and rolled her on her back. She gave no resistance, and looked up at him with crimson cheeks.

“Uh, Mac,” she said. “What are you doing?”

“Pinning you down,” Mac said.

Dash gave him a sly smile. “Oh now you wanna play, huh?”

“Eeyup,” Mac said, returning her smile with a smirk of his own. “Gotta admit, it was a lot easier to get ya on your back than I thought.”

“Yeah? Well don’t get used to it,” Dash said. “Next time I’m gonna make you work for it. So you better be ready.”

Rarity cleared her throat to announce her presence, and peered over the kitchen island at them. “If you two are quite done,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Rainbow Dash, everypony is almost ready except for you. Please get changed while I finish Macintosh’s suit. Thanks to you, I need to take extra measures to make sure it’s absolutely pristine.”

Dash shrugged. “What good’s an outfit if you can’t roll around in it. See ya later, Mac.”

While Dash went back into the guestroom, Rarity beckoned Macintosh back to the center of the living room. She continued where they left off. Well, not exactly where they left off, Mac noticed with a relieved sigh. His talk with Rainbow Dash made him realize something. He wanted something from Rarity, and as she double checked the seams on his suit, he stared at her, knowing full well that she would not like the next few words out of his mouth.

“Rarity, would you mind doing me a little favor. It’s a bit personal, and I don’t think yer gonna like me for asking it of ya.”

Rarity quirked an eyebrow at him. “I’m listening.”

“Cut my mane and tail.”

“Absolutely not!” Rarity recoiled from him. “Macintosh, sweetie, darling, you’re gorgeous with a long mane, and you want to cut it all off? It’s insanity, it’s ridiculous, it’s a crime against haute fashion. And you want to do this now? Right before the bachelor auction? Appearing before a mass of sophisticated ponies with a short mane, I can’t even imagine. Are you sure about this?” Before Macintosh could answer she continued on. “Wait! Wait! Before you decide let me show you my notebook. I have pages, pages, of pictures and drawings of styles that would look perfect on you.” Rarity summoned her notebook from her bags and flipped through it, a whirl of photographs and sketches rushed past.

Macintosh placed a hoof on her shoulder, and they met eyes. “I’m sure. It doesn’t suit me, and if there’s anypony that can make short look good it’s the best fashion designer in Equestria.”

Rarity sighed. “I’m afraid you know how to persuade me far too well. All right, I’ll fetch the scissors.” Rarity moved to her bag but only took a step before Mac placed a hoof on her shoulder. She turned to look over her shoulder at him.

“I’m glad you’re my friend,” Mac said, a bit softer than he intended.

Rarity smiled. “Always, Macintosh.”

-*-

The bachelor auction was to take place inside Princess Celestia’s castle, specifically the grand ballroom, a large room ornately decorated with crystal chandeliers that sparkled like stars. Veins of solid gold webbed through the marble floor, and pillars the same height and thickness of hundred-year redwoods lined the far walls, each of them etched with pure white vines encircling them. Soon the lilt of strings would float through the air, prodding shy ponies to dance a waltz of whirling circles.

Now, however, the only ponies there were the twenty-some-odd bachelors, Macintosh and Soarin included, that had to arrive early to take pictures and write something, anything, on a single sheet of cream-colored parchment. Soarin had told Mac that this exercise of freeform expression was just that. It could be a short autobiography, a list of hobbies, even a recipe. Soarin had opted to do what he did every year: sign an autograph. Mac had allowed his mind to wander while trying to think of the best thing to write down. He was still a little embarrassed with what he penned during his little daydream.

Soarin and Mac along with the others walked across the grand ballroom and into a smaller room whose only door was a blue curtain. Tables lined the back and side walls, and on them were framed pictures of each bachelor along with the parchment they filled out. Back and center stood Mac’s picture with a little plaque on the bottom edge proclaiming him the featured bachelor. Beside him was Soarin’s picture and parchment.

“You know,” Soarin said, staring at Mac’s parchment. “When you were all nervous and I told you to just think of a really calming place, I didn’t think you’d actually draw it.”

Mac looked at the sketch of apple trees all full of apples and in a neat row. Beside it was a freshly plowed field, and between the trees and the field, just slightly off-center, was a plow dripping with fresh mud. It had been hard to evoke the earthy, sweet scent with just ink, but he felt as if he had gotten it just right. The dirt felt like the dirt, the apples like apples, and he could almost feel the same wind that swept up the early-fallen leaves of autumn. Mac hoped everyone else would feel the same way as he did when they looked at it.

At least his picture came out alright. He had taken it just after finishing his drawing, and so it was his usual smile accompanied by a half-lidded gaze. Along with his newly cut mane, Macintosh could actually recognize the pony in the picture, even with the tux.

“Get a good look?” Soarin asked. “This is about the only time we’ll be allowed in this room. After the other guests get in it’ll just be bidders only in here.”

“You nervous at all?” Mac asked.

“Nah, but I got a guaranteed date so...” Soarin shrugged with a grin, and the two headed out of the room.

The muffled voices of several ponies came from the other side of the ballroom’s front entrance. Soon the towering double doors would open wide and allow the flood of guests to gush through. Fancy Pants had said that the attendance would reach close to ten ponies per bachelor. Thankfully, not all of them would bid, but a healthily skewed ratio would almost guarantee a lively auction.

Mac tensed his jaw as the doors eased open.

“Hey, pretend you’re talking to me,” Soarin whispered.

Mac raised an eyebrow at him. “Why?”

“I want my first impression to look nonchalant. You know, like I got better things to do.”

“If you had better things to do, then why’d you agree to do this in the first place? It ain’t like anypony forced ya.”

“Well, I don’t really have better things to do. It’s just...it’s the attitude, Mac. The attitude.”

“Soarin, you ever just try acting like a regular ol’ pony. Smiling when somepony makes eye contact and sayin’ a quick ‘how do ya do’?”

Soarin vibrated his lips with a puff of air. “Well, sure, if you want to be straightforward about this whole thing, but I’m a Wonderbolt, I got an image to protect: cool, aloof, sociable but slightly unapproachable. That sort of thing.”

“I ain’t gonna argue that bein’ famous and all makes ponies have this special kinda persona of you, but I am gonna argue that that persona ain’t anything like what you described. Heck, I remember reading an article on ya in the Canterlot Daily. Pretty sure the words ‘childish goofball’ were used.”

“You cut me to the core, Mac, right to the core. That two-bit rag’s got me all wrong.”

“Are you still moping about that article in the Cloudsdale Forecast?” Spitfire came up to the two stallions with a smile brighter than the service medals decorating her chest.

Mac looked around and saw that the doors had been fully opened, allowing bubbles of conversation to percolate across the hall. On the opposite wall, a few ponies with large instrument cases assembled on a platform meant for the musicians. Mac squinted. Was that Applejack amongst them?

“You two should stop talking to each other so much and start talking with potential bidders. How else are you going to rake up bits?” Spitfire continued.

“Hey, I’m doing you a favor,” Soarin said with a smile. “The less I talk the less competition there is, and the fewer bits you’ll have to spend.”

Blueblood coughed to make his presence known, and approached the stallions with a frown. “As the assistant coordinator for this auction, I will remind you that this is for charity. As such, I expect you, both of you, to be suave and debonair while talking to potential bidders. I know that will be difficult for you two, but please, for the love of my aunt, try. Try until your tongues turn silver.”

“I dunno,” Soarin said with a frown. “I think I’d have better luck doing a striptease, and that’s sayin’ something considering that we’re all usually naked to begin with.”

“What in the world do you see in him?” Blueblood asked Spitfire.

She smiled. “What can I say? He makes me laugh.” Spitfire wrapped a foreleg around Soarin’s shoulders and pulled him so close their feathers intertwined. “Plus he’s damn cute, too.” Soarin’s cheeks burned red as a sheepish smile crossed his lips. He nuzzled Spitfire’s neck, and Mac looked away to be polite.

“So Blueblood,” Mac said to distract himself from their display of affection, “I’m kinda surprised you ain’t a bachelor, what with all yer talk about findin’ a special somepony.”

Blueblood sighed with a wistful gaze that stared into nothing. “I’ve tried for several years, but every time all the guests have been too intimidated by me to place even a single bid. I can’t say I blame them.”

“Aw well, I’m sure there’s a pony out there...audacious enough to ask ya out.”

“I can hope,” Blueblood said. For a split second he actually flashed a genuine smile in Mac’s direction, it vanished behind a forced frown. “Excuse me, as much as I love listening to your bumpkin accent, I really should be greeting the guests.” He walked off, and Mac couldn’t help but chuckle. Perhaps there was hope for that royal pain in the flank after all.

Big Macintosh turned back to Soarin and Spitfire. They were rubbing noses together, staring deep into each other’s eyes. Well, Mac wasn’t completely oblivious. He knew when he was being a third wheel.

“I oughta...I’m gonna...go...over there for a while,” Mac said. Neither of them responded, and Macintosh trotted his way toward the musician’s platform where Applejack was busy talking to the cellist of the string quartet. The cellist looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite match the face to a name. Applejack soon noticed her older brother’s approach and waved him down.

“Hey, big brother, look who I found!” Applejack pointed a hoof to the cellist, and Octavia came to mind. They had the same mane style, but while Octavia’s was a dark brown, this cellist’s was cobalt blue along with a yellow coat. Then, all at once, the name and memories came.

“Fiddly Faddle?”

“Hey cuz!” Fiddly said. “Boy, Ah ain’t seen you since we raised up yer barn years ago. What are ya doin’ here, ya big hotshot? Getting in an exclusive soiree like this in Canterlot, in Celestia’s castle no less.”

“Heck, Ah outta be askin’ the same o’ you, cuz,” Mac said with a grin.

“Oh, it ain’t a big thing. Ah just graduated from the music school up in Manehattan, and Fancy Pants invited me to play at this charity thing seeing as how the charity’s the same one that gave me the scholarship to go to school in the first place. Ah came here ‘bout a week ago and decided to play on the street. You know, for ol’ time’s sake, and Ah guess ponies here really like my playin’ ‘cause Ah’ve been gettin’ gigs left and right, and the next thing Ah knew Ah had enough bits to my name to rent a pretty nice place here. So here Ah am, playin’ this gig for charity.”

Macintosh almost forgot how much of a talker Fiddly could be. Mac was about to keep the talk going, but the color drained from his face. She had been in Canterlot for a week. Octavia’s cancellations had started a week ago. They both played the cello.

“Ah gotta hide ya from Octavia,” Mac blurted out.

“Octavia!” Fiddly gasped and covered her mouth. “Is she here? Oh my goodness, do ya know her? Can ya introduce me? Ah’ve been just hopin’ and hopin’ to meet her while Ah’m here. Oh! Oh! I got one of her CDs in my cello case Ah hoped she’d sign.”

Mac sucked in his lips, unsure about what to say. “Listen, sugarcube, about Octavia–”

“What about me?” Octavia’s voice crawled up his back with a shiver.

Octavia stepped beside Macintosh, her black dress billowing around her like a dark cloud. She glared at Fiddly the same way she had glared at breakfast that morning, and Macintosh knew there was going to be trouble.

Fiddly brought her front hooves to her mouth to stifle her squeal of delight. “Octavia! H-Hi there. Ah-Ah’m yer biggest fan and a cellist just like you and-and-and...”

Octavia scoffed. “A cellist just like me? Ha! I never heard such a ridiculous claim. We may play the same instrument, we may even have the same mane, but do not dare, for an instant, believe that you and I are somehow on the same level.”

“Oh no, Ah didn’t mean, Ah would never–”

“Quiet,” Octavia said, and Fiddly covered her mouth.

A small crowd started to form around them, drawn in by Octavia’s loud voice. Mac wanted to slip away from the sudden throng, but he couldn’t just leave his cousin to face Octavia alone. He needed to step in and level out the situation. And he knew just the way to do it.

“Octavia, she’s my cousin,” Mac said.

“I don’t care,” Octavia said. “She has the gall to waltz in here with that poor excuse for a cello and pretend to be a fan of mine? Absolutely despicable.”

“No wait,” Fiddly said. “Ah really am a huge fan. Ah owe everything to ya.”

“Oh really? My what a bold lie. Are you that desperate to trick me? To bring my guard down so I become complacent while you take away all of my business?” Octavia sneered.

“It’s true! Ya probably don’t remember me but you gave me my first cello.”

Octavia froze, eyes wide. She stared at Fiddly for several long seconds, her eyes examining her as if for the first time. Her gaze trailed from Fiddly’s mane to her coat to her tail. Finally, she stepped closer and squinted her eyes.

“It really is you,” Octavia whispered.

Fiddly smiled and nodded. “Back when Ah was just a little filly, and my family was beggin’ on a Canterlot street corner, you gave my parents a bag of bits, and you gave me a cello. Ya leaned in close and ya whispered in my ear, ‘Play it. Play it until your hooves bleed, for the more they bleed the stronger they’ll become. The stronger they become, the easier it will be to crush the drivel of naysayers.’”

“I gave you my cello.” Octavia stared at the ground and shook her head. “That means...that means you’re younger than me! To think, you’re playing professional engagements in Canterlot at the same age I started my first year at university.” Octavia grit her teeth with a growl. “But rest assured, I won’t stand idly by and allow some wunderkind to surpass me.”

“Oh no, please, Ah don’t want ya to think we’re in some competition with each other,” Fiddly said. “All Ah ever wanted was to meet ya and thank ya and...maybe be friends? Why, Ah’d even move back to Manehattan if ya don’t think we can be friends in Canterlot.”

Octavia’s expression softened, and she shook her head. “No, even I am not harsh enough to suggest something like that. Especially since you’re a monster of my own creation.” She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “So...I really helped you, didn’t I?”

“Ya sure did,” Fiddly said, beaming.

Octavia smiled and elbowed Mac’s side. “My my, did you hear that, Mac? I might actually be a good pony.”

Mac wrapped a foreleg around her to put her in a headlock and pressed his cheek against the top of her head. “Might? You helped out my family. You could overthrow Celestia and rule Equestria under a brutal dictatorship, and Ah’d still be singin’ your praises.”

Octavia wriggled her way out of his hold and patted down the stray strands sticking straight out from her head. “It’s good to know your undying loyalty is so easy to earn and so difficult to lose,” Octavia said. “I’ll keep that in mind for later.”

“So then, cuz, Ah reckon it’s yer turn to tell how ya ended up in Canterlot of all places. Last Ah heard, you were runnin’ one of the biggest farms in Equestria,” Fiddly said.

“Aw well, now that’s a long story,” Mac said with a smile. “Ya see–”

“Excuse me,” a stallion in the crowd called out. “You’re one of the bachelors, correct? Did I hear her correctly when she said you ran one of the biggest farms in Equestria?”

Mac’s cheeks burned as he realized how large the crowd around him, Applejack, Octavia, and Fiddly had become. “Well, uh, ‘ran’ is sorta tricky. Ah ran it with my sister, Applejack here, along with the rest of my family.”

“Howdy,” Applejack greeted the crowd with a wave.

“Your sister is the Element of Honesty?” a mare asked.

“Sure is,” Mac said. He coughed to clear the nervous lump growing in his throat. “If ya wanna hear some interesting stories, then believe you me she’s got stories.”

Applejack was about to speak, but another voice interrupted her.

“Hey, Mac!” Rainbow Dash called from the edge of the crowd. She turned away to wave at a familiar group of four mares. “Hey, over here. I found him.”

Rarity, Fluttershy, Twilight, and Pinkie Pie joined Rainbow Dash, and together the five of them traversed the crowd to join Mac and Applejack’s little group in the center. Macintosh felt cool relief swell in his chest. Surely the Elements of Harmony would be enough to pull the crowd’s attention away from him. To make matters better, Rainbow Dash’s shout didn’t just grab the attention of the mares, but also of Blueblood, Fancy Pants, Soarin, and Spitfire, and they all made their way toward him as well. Good. The more ponies that came, the more Macintosh could hide behind.

Rainbow Dash was the first to arrive, and the two met each other’s gaze. Mac had never seen her like this before: all made up with her mane primped and styled. She wore a dress as colorful as her mane, and the hem had thick, white ruffles that made her look as if she rested on a cloud.

“You look beautiful, Dash,” Mac said, his cheeks burning.

“Th-thanks,” Rainbow Dash said, her cheeks turning bright red as well. “You look really good too.” They stared at each other, paralyzed, for another second until Dash looked away and shook her head. She stepped forward and gave Mac a punch on the shoulder. “You sure know how to draw a crowd,” she said with a smile. “Were you tellin’ them about all the crazy shenanigans you get yourself into.”

“Actually, Ah was kinda hopin’ you’d tell them about the time you saved Equestria for the sixth time.”

Blueblood cleared his throat and leaned in close to whisper in Mac’s ear. “While I’m sure that’s a riveting tale, these ponies are here not to bid on your friends, but to bid on you.” Blueblood turned to the crowd and stepped toward them. With a regal stance, a hoof on his chest, he addressed the crowd with a resounding and grandiose voice.

“Ladies and gentlecolts,” he said, “I present you this year’s featured bachelor: Big Macintosh Apple. Feel free to ask him any question you please, and I’m sure he has a tale or two with which to regale you as well. Before all that, however, let him tell you all a little bit about himself.” Blueblood gave Macintosh a smug little smirk, obviously aware of how much Mac didn’t want the attention.

All eyes were on Macintosh now, and the color drained from his face. “Aw well, uh, Ah ain’t all that interestin’. Ah bet any one of ya’s got a better story than Ah do.”

“What’re you talking about, Mac?” Soarin asked. “Why don’t you tell ‘em about the time you and Dash helped us out with those crazy Cloudsdale clouds.” The buzz of the crowd got louder as they muttered their surprise.

“Yeah, Macky!” Pinkie Pie jumped in. “Or how about that time you got the best score in taste at the National Dessert Competition?”

“There’s also the time you, Fluttershy, and I discovered a new species of bird in the Everfree Forest,” Twilight added.

“Oh! Why don’t ya tell us about the time ya won yer farm from ol’ Moonshine in a bet?” Fiddly said. “My mama used to tell that story all the time when Ah was a filly.”

“My goodness, such a storied past,” Fancy Pants said. “And to think I only know you as an artist and art critic. Please, Macintosh, you simply must tell us all these stories. They sound so interesting.”

“You...you really wanna hear them?” Mac asked to the crowd. Their answers came in the form of nods, pleading eyes, and resounding ‘yes’s. Mac gulped. “Alright, Ah guess Ah’ll start from the beginning, back to when Ah was a colt.”

He told them his life story. Not the entire thing of course, they simply didn’t have the time, and so Mac kept only to the exciting and daring bits. He told them of how he won the farm, of getting crushed by a flying apple cart, of being chased by a giant bear-spirit-thing, of climbing the mountain of gusts in the Everfree Forest, of losing the dessert competition, of helping the Wonderbolts.

But most of all, as the night wore on, he told them of working the farm. He told them of how the sun burnt his back during the too-short summers, and how, if he was lucky enough, a breeze would blow through his sweat-drenched coat and send cooling shivers through his whole body. He told them how, during the peak harvest season, the smell of apples was so thick upon the air he could taste the fruit on his lips. He told them of how, after a good rain, his hooves would sink into the mud and make him feel like he sprouted from the very ground. A true earth pony. He told them of the happiness and pride he felt when ponies would eat the literal fruits of his labor, and how, for that one moment, that one meal, he made their lives just a little bit better, just a little bit easier.

“Because a farmer ain’t a farmer ‘cause he likes to eat, or because he likes hard labor, though that might be a part of it. A farmer is a farmer because he likes to feed others. Farming’s just about the only job Ah know of that let’s me carry another pony’s burden. Maybe not all of it, and maybe not for very long, but enough to help.” Macintosh breathed a wistful sigh, and gave Applejack a quick sideways glance. “Eeyup, enough to help.”

“What lovely stories,” Fancy Pants said as he wiped his monocle on his sleeve. He levitated his pocket watch to snout level, and his eyes widened as he read the time. “Goodness gracious, your stories were so enchanting that I completely lost track of time.”

Fancy Pants cleared his throat to refocus the crowd’s attention on him. “Ladies and gentlecolts, there is now only an hour left until bidding closes. Now, I know very few of you have placed a bid so if we may all form an orderly–” His words fell on deaf ears as the ponies bull-rushed the bidding room. Fancy Pants chased after them. “Please, let us all conduct ourselves in a manner we will not be ashamed of tomorrow. Blueblood, I may require your assistance.”

“Right away!” Blueblood said as he trotted to catch up with Fancy Pants, leaving Mac alone with his family, the Wonderbolts, Octavia, and the Elements of Harmony.

“Well, I better get in there and place my bid for Soarin,” Spitfire said.

“Mind if I tag along?” Rainbow Dash asked. “I’ve got some really cool stunt ideas I want to run by you.”

Spitfire smiled. “Yeah, sure. I totally and completely believe that’s why you want to go with me to the bidding room.”

“Allow me to come along,” Rarity said. “I’m sure I would love hearing all about these ‘stunts’.”

“Count me in too,” Pinkie Pie added. “You coming too, Octavia?”

“I suppose I must,” Octavia said. “Though I have absolutely no idea who I might bid on.”

“Wow, Mac, you really stole the show,” Soarin said as the mares walked off. “I’m lucky there’s still a good chunk of ponies that don’t know about you. Gives all the rest of us bachelors an actual chance.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from my big brother,” Applejack said.

“And my cuz,” Fiddly said.

“You guys talk about me too much,” Mac said with a soft smile. He looked at the ground and breathed a weak chuckle, completely exhausted. His throat was sore from talking so much. “They all...looked at me,” he whispered.

“What was that, Macintosh?” Twilight asked.

Mac jerked his head up. “Oh, it wasn’t...Ah was just thinking...” Mac trailed off and thought back to when he was younger. “When Ah was a colt, ponies always looked down on me because of the way Ah talked and where Ah came from. They looked at me and just saw an idiot and a troublemaker. But now...the ponies here, they all looked up at me. Like they admired me. Like they thought I was something special.”

Mac ran a hoof through his mane and tried to swallow the burning lump in his throat. “Ah ain’t anything special. Ah’m just a farmpony. Been pulling a plow since playground days, ain’t even finished elementary school.” Why was it getting harder to breathe? Why did his tie feel so tight?

Big Mac took a deep breath and forced a smile to show the ponies all looking at him with worry in their eyes. “Sorry, Ah just...need some air. Ah’ll be right back, promise.” He held on to his smile as he walked through the front doors and into the courtyard. He kept walking until he was as far away from the castle as possible without leaving the surrounding property. There were no ponies here, and so Mac dropped his smile and took another deep breath and released it with a sigh. He loosened his tie and drew a small bit of comfort from the soft grass beneath his hooves. It was wet, and the smell of fresh earth wafted into his nose.

What the hell was he doing here? Not just in Celestia’s castle, not just in Canterlot, but here, in this moment, in these circumstances. He didn’t deserve any of this. He didn’t deserve to have the admiration of all those ponies. He didn’t deserve to have such good friends. He didn’t deserve to have such pretty ponies actually pay money for a date with him.

Mac sat down in front of a hedge of multicolored flowers and stared at the arrangement of frost lilies and rainbow roses. Actually, there was quite an impressive assortment of flowers. Tulips and chrysanthemums and daisies and orchids, all in several hues and shades, all intertwined together. These colorful flowers sorta reminded him of the ponies back inside the castle. Mac’s gaze trailed down the hedge and to the ground, and he drew random lines into the dark earth. All these pretty flowers, and he, the dirt.

Mac blinked and suddenly everything made sense. He leapt to his hooves. What the hell was he doing here? He needed to get back to the ballroom. Now! He galloped and backtracked through the courtyard. He had gotten his fresh air, and now he needed to find Twilight. He found her still with Applejack and the others, and he hurried to her, and when he rejoined the group they all looked at him, startled and confused.

“Twilight, can Ah borrow ya for a few minutes? It’s really important,” Mac said.

“Uh, sure, Macintosh,” Twilight said. “Is there something wrong? You look a little...electric.”

“Everything’s great, Twilight,” Mac said with a grin. “Ah just need your help writing a letter. Is there someplace we can talk in private, maybe someplace with some quill and paper?”

A smile crept onto Twilight’s face as an idea came to her. “Actually, I know just the place. Follow me.”

“Hey, just where the heck are you two going?” Applejack called after them.

“Don’t worry, sis, we’ll be back lickety-split.”

-*-

Celestia’s personal library was a vault of immense knowledge located high atop one of the taller spires of the castle. Most of the ceiling was made of glass, allowing the light of the moon and the stars to shine in unimpeded. Twilight smiled as she ran a hoof across the spines of hundreds of books set into bookshelves. She took a moment to take out and flip through a few of her favorite tomes. After reading a couple pages from a dozen books, she reorganized one of the shelves, noticing that the books were out of order.

“Thanks for helping me out with this, Twilight,” Mac said for the fourth time.

“Of course, Macintosh,” Twilight said. “I just don’t understand what you need my help with. I’m not sure there’s a lot I can do to help write your friendship report to Celestia.”

Mac shrugged. “Right now I got all these thoughts in my head, and I ain’t the best at writing a letter, but if I just talk to ya, get all these thoughts out, then maybe I can make sense of it. And maybe you can help me make my letter sound good.”

Twilight nodded. “That makes sense. You know, if it’ll help, you can just have a conversation with me and I’ll take notes, and then we can summarize everything in a letter.” She went to the front desk and took out parchment, a quill, and a well of ink from one of the drawers. She pressed the tip of the quill to her tongue and then dipped it in ink. “So go ahead, Big Macintosh. What have you learned?”

Big Macintosh took a deep breath and let it go slowly through his nose. He let it all out. All his emotions, all his thoughts, all his fears. He talked and talked as if to the air in order to get everything straight. He allowed his mouth to run without much thinking behind it, blurting out anything and everything that crossed his mind.

All the while Twilight wrote down everything he said. She never once asked him to repeat anything, never once did she interrupt. She never looked up from the parchment. Her ears would wriggle and then her quill would fly across the page. At one point she took out another quill and wrote with two, one with her hoof the other with her magic.

They kept it up for more than half an hour until Macintosh had no more to say. Even then, the work was still not done. Together, the two of them looked over the pages and pages of parchment and began to trim it all down. They went through every paragraph, through every line, through every word, until the letter was just perfect. Finally, Twilight took the single page of parchment and read it out loud.

Dear Princess Celestia,

I’ve always been a little jealous of Applejack, of all the Elements of Harmony. They have those great, big destinies I always wanted as a colt. I wanted to take care of my home and my family, including Applejack, but over the years it was pretty clear that Applejack and her friends were taking care of me through all the disasters that came my way.

I came to terms with never becoming the hero I wanted to be. I resigned myself to stay on the farm with my head down as I pulled my plow. Because that was my contribution, that was how I could help Applejack. I couldn’t save Equestria, but I could save her some time and worry by putting the farm on my shoulders.

Soon, however, things became quiet, and suddenly Applejack didn’t need me to help her with the farm, if I was even helping her at all. With an injured body, I was forced to lay off work and spend time outside the farm. Having so much free time made me absolutely crazy.

But then I met my friends.

At first, I didn’t think of them as my friends. Truth be told, I thought they were kind of a nuisance. But little by little they got to me, and I realized what I had been missing. From each of them I learned a little bit about myself, and from each of them I learned a new lesson.

I learned from Twilight that friends don’t always have to agree about everything in order to be friends. Pinkie Pie taught me how much fun I could have outside my comfort zone. I learned from Rainbow Dash how much I could love a pony that wasn’t even a part of my family, and Fluttershy taught me how much a friend can make you feel better without saying a single word. Rarity showed me just how much a friend can care about you, and Applejack taught me how easy it is to lose track of what’s important.

These are all just simple one-sentence summaries, and don’t come close to doing those crazy mares justice. In fact, I made a lot more friends outside the Elements of Harmony, and I learned a lot from them too.

But having friends made things a little more complicated than what I was used to. Before, I only had my family and the farm, and to take care of both I just had to do what I’ve been doing since I was a colt. But now, with friends, I had so many worries. What if I let them down? What if I messed up, and they realized I wasn’t anything special? Because I’m not anything special. I’m just some farmpony that hardly ever stepped out of my family’s land.

What a stupid thing to worry about, huh?

A pony doesn’t have friends because they deserve them, because they did something great and special that proves them worthy of companionship. They have friends because those friends have seen them at their best and their worst and have chosen to stick by them through the best and the worst. My friends think I’m something special, and that’s enough to make me something special.

That is the first big lesson I learned.

The second big lesson I learned is still a work in progress.

Do you remember when I told you that I wanted to find something that only I can do? I think a little bit of my jealousy was showing through. I still haven’t quite found what that is, but maybe being me is enough. After all, no one else can do that, right? Maybe we go through our lives affecting other ponies’ lives without even knowing. Years ago, one of my friends, Octavia, gave my cousin a cello, and now my cousin is playing at major Canterlot events. Maybe it’s like that with everypony. Maybe we help out ponies without even realizing it.

Even with that said, I still have this nagging feeling in the back of my heart that tells me I’m not gonna be happy staying in my apartment and painting all day. I know, deep down, that I want to go back to working on a farm. In a way, I’m like the dirt: I can take care of things and maybe help them grow. Maybe that’s my purpose: to take care of those I care about: my family, my friends, my farm. I know it’s what would make me happy. So if you have any land laying around, feel free to send me a letter. It doesn’t matter how barren the land is. It’s not anything a little earth pony magic can’t fix.

I hope I can talk to you soon. I’m not the best at writing letters. Twilight’s helping me write this one, which is why it’s actually readable.

With love,

Big Macintosh Apple

P.S. That friend I mentioned earlier, Octavia, has always dreamed about ruling Equestria. If you ever decide to do a Princess-for-a-Day thing, I’d like to nominate her. I can’t guarantee she won’t try to do a proper coup d'état, but I really think she deserves it.

Twilight and Mac exchanged smiles, and Twilight wrapped up the parchment and tied it with a crimson ribbon.

“Thank you, Twilight,” Mac said. “I couldn’t do it without ya.”

“I want to thank you too, Macintosh, for sharing something so personal with me.” She looked at the ground in thought, her lips pressed into a thin line. She raised her head and met his gaze. “Macintosh, I’m really touched by this letter. I’m glad we were able to help you so much, and I want you to know you helped us a bit too. I’m proud to be your friend.”

Mac chuckled. “Twilight, you keep talking like that yer liable to start makin’ me tear up.”

“Sorry,” Twilight said, her smile widening. She hovered the letter in front of her. “I’ll deliver this to Celestia personally, her room’s actually nearby. You should get back to the bachelor auction, I’m pretty sure they’re going to announce the results soon.”

Mac nodded. “You’re probably right. Thanks again, Twilight. I think I can find my way back okay.”

The two of them walked out of the library together and then went their separate ways. Big Macintosh smiled the whole way down to the ballroom. His time with Twilight in the library had certainly proved both cathartic and insightful. He felt as if his path was clear now, and he no longer had to worry about getting in his own way. All he had to worry about was figuring out the best way to tell Applejack his plans to open his own farm. But maybe he didn’t have to do it immediately. After all, he wasn’t sure where his farm would even be. He had saved quite a few bits over the years, but he still needed to figure out how much land he could buy while still keeping enough to actually buy seeds and saplings and the like.

He thought about his plan all through his walk, and he arrived at the ballroom quicker than he realized. There were hardly any ponies left there. Perhaps he had arrived a bit too late. Fiddly Faddle was on the musician’s stage playing with her quartet, and Fluttershy stood beside the platform and watched them play. Macintosh trotted up to her.

“Howdy there, Fluttershy,” Mac said. “Where’s Applejack? Did they already announce the results?”

“Oh, Applejack had to go back to Ponyville before the rain started. They didn’t give the results yet, almost everypony is trying to place a bid.”

“What about you? You place a bid yet?” Mac asked with a smile. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if I had to go on a date with ya.”

Fluttershy’s cheeks burned bright red. “Oh, no, I didn’t bid...not that I have anything against you, it’s just, um...” She trailed off and hid behind her mane.

“It’s alright, Fluttershy. I’m just teasing,” Mac said, trying to hold back his chuckles. “Between you and me, I think Ah got enough ponies after me.”

Fluttershy smiled and nodded. She opened her mouth to speak, but something caught her attention. “Here come the others,” she said, pointing toward the bidding room.

Fancy Pants, Blueblood, Soarin, Spitfire, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Octavia, and Rainbow Dash all walked toward Mac and Fluttershy. Fancy Pants had an odd expression on his face, something between disbelief and glee. His nose was scrunched as he tried to hold back laughter behind a wobbling grin. Blueblood looked much more his usual self, with a haughty scowl carved into his face.

Once close enough, Fancy Pants hovered a small slip of paper to Macintosh. He grabbed it, and saw that it had his name on the front. Mac raised an eyebrow at Fancy Pants, and the unicorn stallion had to raise a hoof to allow himself a moment to compose himself.

“Your top bidder wanted to be kept anonymous. She said only to give you this letter. I thought it best to show this to you now, since I very well couldn’t announce your highest bidder with the rest of the bachelors. Please, open it and read it, before I break down into giggles.”

Mac looked at the paper, unsure of what to expect. As the others watched, Mac unfolded the letter and read silently.

Dear Macintosh,

I had a faint inkling that you wished to see me, and so I thought to take the initiative and spare you an awkward date, all while making a charitable donation. I expect you tomorrow at noon for tea.

With Love,

Princess Celestia

P.S. Feel free to bring that friend with treacherous ambitions. I’m sure she will be an absolute delight.

Mac chuckled. Faint inkling nothing. Celestia just happened to get his letter and probably used her magic to make her bid from afar.

“Ridiculous,” Blueblood muttered. “Completely ridiculous. What is this world coming to?”

“Now now, Blueblood,” Fancy Pants said, his voice cracking. “That’s no way to speak of your future uncle.”

Blueblood yelled out in despair. He shook his head with all his might and began to walk away, unable to stand his present company for any longer.

“Blueblood wait,” Mac called out, and the prince actually stopped. Mac caught up to him. “I’m sure yer aunt just felt sorry for me, knowin’ that I wouldn’t bring in the bids. I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything really.”

Blueblood scrunched up his snout in thought and then slowly nodded. “Yes, yes that makes sense. That makes perfect sense. Of course a farmer like you wouldn’t attract many bidders, and with your sister being the Element of Honesty, my aunt must only have been acting out of her usual kindness.”

He sighed in relief and turned up his nose at Mac. “Well, I suppose you have your lucid moments, don’t you, Apple? Even so, I must be going to prepare Fancy Pants’ notes for the announcement of the results.” He took a couple more steps but stopped and looked over his shoulder at Macintosh.

“I’m having a little garden party in two weeks and…” Blueblood trailed off, the words stuck on his tongue.

Mac tilted his head. “Are you inviting me to yer swanky shindig?”

Blueblood rolled his eyes. “It is a garden party, and yes, you are invited. But do not read into this invitation. I am only inviting you because I have asked for the presence of far too many ponies with coats in blues and greens. I need more warm-colored ponies to maintain color balance. That is the only reason you are invited, understand?”

Mac smiled. “I got it. See you there, Blueblood.”

Blueblood nodded and trotted away.

“Between you and me, Mr. Apple,” Fancy Pants said as Mac returned to his group, “you have had such a positive effect on Blueblood.” Fancy Pants patted Macintosh’s shoulder. “It was lovely seeing you again. I hope we can spend more time together soon.” Fancy Pants scanned across the other ponies there. “That goes for all of you.” With a final nod, Fancy Pants followed after Blueblood.

Macintosh watched him go. “I think it’s about time I head home too,” he said. He turned to his cousin, still playing her cello. “Hey Fiddly, Ah’m headin’ out. It was good to see ya.”

Fiddly waved her bow at him. “Same here, cuz. Don’t be a stranger. Now that Ah’m living in Canterlot I expect regular dinner invites, ya hear?”

“Ah hear,” Mac said with a grin. “Ah’ll get your address from Fancy Pants.”

Fiddly smiled back and went back to playing without missing a beat. Happy to have found a family member so close by, Mac turned to Octavia. “You comin’ with me?”

“You go on ahead,” Octavia said. “Me and the girls have much to discuss.”

Mac tilted his head and looked over at Rarity. She only gave him a shrug.

“Alright then,” Mac said. “I’ll see y’all real soon, I’m sure.”

As Macintosh said his goodbyes, Soarin surprised him with a tight hug. “Tell me how your date with Celestia goes,” he whispered in his ear. “I’m your friend, right? That means you give me details. All the details.”

Spitfire bit the end of Soarin’s tail and dragged him off of Macintosh. “C’mon, Mr. Details. We gotta get going before the rain starts. You know how much I hate flying in the rain.”

“Aww, can’t we have some more drinks first?” Soarin asked. “The bar doesn’t close for another half hour, and I want to beat the house.”

Spitfire rolled her eyes but smiled. “Fine, but only one drink. I don’t want to carry you back all the way to Cloudsdale. I’m not as strong as Mac, you know.” Spitfire stepped closer to Mac and tapped his cheek with a hoof in a mock punch. “You enjoy that date with Celestia, and make sure you keep in touch.”

“I will, but I gotta tell ya. It ain’t so much of a date as it is a sort of tea party. At least, that’s what it said in her letter.”

“Well, make sure tea is all you have,” Rainbow Dash said. She gave him a tight hug. “See you soon, alright big guy?”

Mac nodded. After a few more goodbyes and a couple more hugs, Mac left the ballroom and headed back home beneath a dark, cloudy sky. The scent of rain hung heavy in the air, and in the far off distance a flash of lightning split open the night sky. The slow rumble of thunder followed close behind, and Mac breathed a happy sigh. The streets of Canterlot were empty from the threat of rain, and so he had the road to himself as he made his way home.

A drop of rain hit Mac’s nose, then a sheet of rain drenched his entire body. He laughed at the torrent of water. The rain fell as cold and sharp as nails, but he didn’t mind. The chill felt good, like a cold shower after a long day of work. He kept his slow pace, and jumped in every puddle he could find. He hoped Rarity wouldn’t get too mad at him for getting his suit wet. The road became a shallow river, and Macintosh waded through it, enjoying the feel of water rushing past his hooves. Thankfully, the rain had started when he was only blocks away from home.

He didn’t feel cold until he went inside his apartment and the sudden change in temperature sent a violent chill down his back. Big Mac flipped the light switch, but nothing happened. The power was out. He shrugged and stripped off his suit and hung it in the bathroom to dry. He took out a candle and set it on the table and lit it with a match. He did the same to one of the burners on his stove.

Nothing went better with the pitter patter of rain than a nice, hot bowl of soup. It was an opportunity to use up some leftover ingredients before they could spoil in the fridge. He grabbed some vegetables and the biggest pot he had and started making a hearty soup. Once all the ingredients were in, all that was left to do was wait. A boring prospect to be sure.

The candle flickered at the corner of his eye, and Mac got an idea. He went into his pantry and took out a blank canvas and his easel. He set both in front of the candle and started painting. Even he could admit he enjoyed painting, though perhaps not as his only activity, and certainly not with the same repetitive subject. Maybe he’ll keep at it even after opening up his own farm.

A knock at his door stopped him mid-stroke, and Mac dropped his brush into a cup of water. That must be Octavia, she was the only one he knew that could enter the building without him buzzing them in. But when he opened the door, Mac found eight soaked ponies standing in his hallway: the Elements of Harmony, the captain and vice captain of the Wonderbolts, and a temperamental cellist.

Macintosh chuckled. “Come on in. There ain’t any power, but I got fresh towels and hot soup.” He led the parade inside and handed out towels and hangers for their sopping wet clothes. As they all hung their outfits over the tub, Mac poured out eight bowls and placed them on the dining table. He was glad he hadn’t put the table leafs away.

Rainbow Dash was the first to sit at the table, her mane still drenched. She took the bowl of soup and brought it to her lips to gulp it down. She finished the bowl and slid it toward Mac. “Delicious as always, Mac. Mind if I get some more?”

Mac smiled and took her bowl. “So what are y’all doing here anyway? Thought you were all gearing to go home.” He refilled her bowl and set it in front of her.

She used a spoon this time. “The trains are all out because of the rain, and, well, it was a shorter walk to get to your place than to go all the way back to the castle.”

“We’d hate to impose,” Spitfire said as she took a seat, “but it’s pouring too hard to fly safely this late at night, so we’re sort of stuck over here...so if it wouldn’t be any trouble...”

“Yer more than welcome to stay the night,” Mac said. The others trickled into the living room, lively chatter all about them, and sat down to eat. “All of ya,” he added. “Ah got three rooms, includin’ mine. Spitfire and Soarin can share one of the guestrooms, provided they promise they won’t cause a ruckus.”

“We’ll be quiet as field mice,” Soarin said.

“Then that leaves two rooms for the other five of ya, and Ah’ll sleep in the living room. I got a sleeping bag in one of these closets I can use.”

“Make that six of us,” Octavia said. “I’m staying over as well.”

“Octavia, you live right under me, our apartments are attached.”

“True, but there is no way I’m leaving you alone with five single mares.”

“Oh?” Rarity said. “Why so worried, Octavia? It’s not as if you and Big Macintosh are together.”

“Right,” Mac said before Octavia could add her retort. “And if you’re really worried, why don’t you let them stay at your place?”

Octavia clicked her tongue. “As if I would allow anypony in there, but if you wanted to spend the night in my apartment, well, that’s another story entirely.”

“I ain’t leaving my home while I got guests over,” Mac said. “So it looks like it’s settled. Three ponies in my room and three ponies in the last guestroom, and finally me in the living room.” Octavia looked less than happy about the arrangement, but there wasn’t much she could say.

“Aren’t you going to eat anything, Macintosh?” Rarity asked.

“I’ll eat once everypony else is done,” Mac said with a smile. “Don’t want my guests to go hungry, right?” He stood and rolled his shoulders. “I’m gonna go get the bedrooms ready.”

“I’ll help you out,” Soarin said.

Mac nodded and together the two stallions entered the guestroom. Soarin closed the door behind them as Mac started taking off the sheets from the bed. Mac had placed some thin white sheets on the mattress to make the room presentable, but such mediocre sheets wouldn’t do for actual guests, especially on a cold night like this. He unfolded a thick quilt Granny Smith had made him as a parting gift.

“Can you grab that corner, Soarin?” Mac asked.

“Forget about making the bed, Mac,” Soarin said. “What’s your plan?”

Mac tilted his head. “Plan? For what?”

“Mac, buddy, you gotta be kidding me,” Soarin said. “There’s six mares in there and I’m pretty sure at least half of them got the hots for ya. You can’t just go on without a plan, yer gonna break some hearts if you’re not careful. Especially in an atmosphere like this.”

“Like what?”

“You know. Lights are out, only candles for light, chilling cold with only body heat to keep you warm, with the only music the seductive rhythm of torrential rain.”

Mac rolled his eyes. “Soarin, I really like having ya as a friend. In fact, your company makes me wish I had as many stallion friends as mare friends, but you got the situation all wrong.”

“Oh really?” Soarin said, ruffling his feathers. “Well then tell me, oh wise one, what’s the situation like?”

“First of all, Rarity’s too worried about her relationship with Applejack if things go south to start anything with me. She made that real clear over lunch a couple days back. Octavia and I want different things. There’s never been any sort of romance between me and Twilight, and that goes double for Fluttershy.”

“What about Pinkie Pie, she was flirting with you at brunch.”

“Pinkie’s just having fun, ain’t no serious feelings behind it. And Rainbow Dash doesn’t think of me in that way. So yer worryin’ for nothing, Soarin. Now help me fix up this bed.”

“Alright, alright,” Soarin said with a sigh. “I guess you’d know better than me.” His eyes widened with a realization. “But I bet you don’t know better than Spitfire.”

“And what would Spitfire have to say about any of this?”

“She’s a mare, and mare’s always talk about romance when they get together. She could be our mole, our mare on the inside.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard. I’m pretty sure mares got better things to talk about.”

“Hey it wouldn’t hurt to ask her and get her perspective on this.”

Macintosh sighed and finished tucking the quilt’s corners beneath the mattress. He didn’t say a word as he unfolded another quilt and draped it over the bed. After smoothing out all the wrinkles, he placed a few pillows and folded blankets on the floor as well. “If it’ll shut you up once and for all about my personal affairs, then fine, ask her. Meanwhile, I’m gonna go set up your room.”

He opened the door and headed to the other guestroom, all the while ignoring the conversation taking place at the dining room. He took the stairs up to the second guestroom and started to replace the sheets.

Mares only talk of romance? Now that was a laugh. The only mare that could possibly fit that description was Rarity. In fact, the only other pony he talked with about romantic love nearly as much was Soarin. Mac wasn’t lying when he told him he wished he had more male friends, but that was only because Soarin’s perspective of things seemed a bit...skewed. Mac could only imagine what Blueblood or Fancy Pants would have added to the conversation.

Once the bed was remade with thicker and comfier sheets, one of them an eiderdown duvet Octavia had left in the room during her extended stay, Mac took Octavia’s cello and stand and placed it deep in the closet. He also took out his sleeping bag. It would be nice to camp out in the living room and stare out the balcony doors to watch the lightning and rain. He balanced the sleeping bag on his back and was about to leave the room when the door clicked and slowly opened.

“How’s it going, Mac,” Spitfire said as she entered the room, Soarin following close behind her. “So I heard Soarin’s been bugging you about dumb things,” she said. She went to the side of the bed and leaned against the mattress to test its firmness. “Thanks for putting up with him.”

“It’s no problem,” Mac said. “A part of me kinda enjoys it.”

“Hey, I’m right here you know,” Soarin said. “So you agree with him, Spit? That there’s nothing to worry about?”

“I agree that you’re blowing this out of proportion,” Spitfire said. “Listen, Mac, you’re an adult, and so are the mares in the dining room. You know ‘em better than I do, and you know where each of ya stand better than I do. But I will say this–”

“Aha! I knew it!” Soarin said with a grin. “There is something to worry about.” His grin faded as both Mac and Spitfire glared at him. He coughed. “Um, you were saying, sweetie?”

“As I was saying,” Spitfire said, “I went with them to place a bid, and I listened in. Let me tell you, Mac, there were a ton of bids for you. Pages and pages. Even the ponies that didn’t gather around to hear your stories were pretty impressed by your sketch. I think seeing all those bids might make a mare or two realize how popular you really are, and how easy it’ll be for you to get snatched up. If that were the case I wouldn’t be surprised if they made a move real soon. Maybe tonight, maybe not. Either way, you didn’t hear it from me.” Spitfire hopped onto the bed, and bounced a couple of times to test the mattresses’ springiness. “Now if you don’t mind. I’d like to get to bed. C’mon Soarin.”

Soarin’s wide grin returned, and he leapt onto the bed. He pressed his nose against Spitfire’s, and Mac turned away to face the door, his cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red.

“Listen, can you two not, uh...the walls ain’t that thick so...”

“Don’t worry, Mac, we’ll behave,” Soarin said.

“We promise,” Spitfire added. “And thanks for putting up with us.”

Macintosh gave the door a nod, and with a ‘goodnight’ he left the room and left them alone. The rest of the ponies were still around the dining table talking about this and that. Mac didn’t really have much interest in joining them, and none of them paid any real attention to him. Big Macintosh pushed the coffee table to the side and set down his sleeping bag in the center of the living room.

“Are you getting ready for bed?” Fluttershy asked.

“Eeyup,” Mac said. “It’s getting pretty late. Have y’all decided how yer splittin’ the rooms.”

“We have,” Twilight said. “Me, Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie are going to share one room, and Octavia, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash are sharing the other.”

Mac nodded and stared out the balcony door. He watched the streaks of rain race down the glass, merging and splitting as they fell. He had always loved the rain.

“Macintosh, sweetie,” Rarity said. “The rest of us have finished eating, and there’s still some soup left if you’d like some.”

Rarity’s voice wrestled Mac out of his head for a moment. He nodded again and went into the kitchen to pour himself the last few ladles of soup. He sipped at it and leaned against the kitchen island, listening to the others’ conversation from the sidelines. They discussed the bachelor auction, the coming winter, and Dash’s imminent year-long stay in Cloudsdale to attend her training. Every so often they would ask for his thoughts, and Mac would respond with a quick ‘eeyup’ or ‘nope’.

The conversation didn’t last for long, and as Mac finished his soup everyone decided it was time to hit the hay. Big Mac wished them all goodnight, and soon the only sound was the steady beating of rain. However, if he listened really closely, he could hear the quiet breathing of his guests. Mac smiled. It almost felt like he was back at the farmstead.

Mac took his time cleaning the soup pot, and once he did he set down a smaller pot on the stove and heated up some milk flavored with a sprig of mint. He poured the steaming milk in a mug and walked to the balcony door to watch lightning flash near the horizon. The quiet roar of thunder sung a lullaby over Canterlot, and Macintosh sipped his drink in peace.

He had a hunch, a small, little gut feeling, that he wouldn’t be alone for long. Spitfire’s words tumbled around his head. He had an idea of who Spitfire might be talking about, but really it could be anyone. Mac tried to think of what he would say, but gave up after a minute or so. He knew that, when it came right down to it, he didn’t know how he would react until he was face to face with the mare. Mac finished his drink and placed it on the coffee table, his eyes never leaving the rain.

A door clicked open and closed soon after. Mac’s ear twitched as the sound of familiar hoofsteps came toward him and stopped behind him. Big Macintosh took a deep breath. He turned around. A part of him was surprised, a part of him wasn’t.

Mac smiled. “Took us a while, didn’t it?”

Comments

[Vic Viper]

YOU TEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Crystal Moose]

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh! To leave on that note. Lol.

And now Ivory disappears for another six months.

[Kandagger]

Have I mentioned yours is my favorite story on the site? Because it is.

Keep up the good work. I can't wait for the next chapter.

[MrNumbers]

Suddenly, every person I just sent an excited link to at the start of this chapter is about to be barraged with a cacophony of swearing and profanity the likes of which not seen since Brian Blessed stepping on a Lego brick barefoot.

I sent this to a lot of people.

[Booster Spice]

Sing the Halleluia Chorus.

Wonder if the winning bid was restrained with difficulty to only the same as every other bid combined.

[TheStratovarian]

I never fail to enjoy this series. It's an addiction of joyous reading. You write this so amazingly well. that its a good day when this updates.

[Baree]

It's Little Strongheart, I just know it.

[i_am_the_jam]

I think this is the third or fourth story here with a bachelor auction...mine included...

And here I thought Octavia and Fiddle Faddle were one and the same pony...

pre03.deviantart.net/942b/th/pre/f/2014/192/0/0/family_ties_by_saturdaymorningproj-d7q7hdd.jpg

[Not so New Brony]

That was deliciously evil of you to pull that cliffhangar on us but nothing unexpected coming from you. I've just be here on this cliff...hanging until the next chapter.

*Cricket noises*

Eh, never said I was a comedian.

[ReturnoftheMac]

Oh Mac. The things you get yourself into are great. You knew exactly what you were doing earlier Rainbow. You sneak.

That ending might kill me though. My shipping mind is hard to control as it is.

[Nopetrain]

I have never partaken of a "harem" story this well made. Romance and slice of life at its finest.

[The Lurker]

This is without a doubt the longest chapter I have ever seen on this site, and its wonderful but...
I WANT MOAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Silver Thread]

Oh Mac...don't forget to eat. You're lucky Rarity's around to watch you.

[High_Light]

Oooo I can't wait for more, but I know it could be a wait. Curses!

[Nun2artzy]

This was exactly what I needed today. Thank you!

[belnett]

Can it be? Is it back?

[Aatxe360]

It's Spitfire.

[Bolt]

I love this

[MonolithiuM]

woke up
saw this
heart stopped
smiled widely
read now
thanks

[odeeyou]

I think it would be even more hilarious if somepony stepped out, not to talk with Mac...

But to get a glass of water or something COMPLETELY unrelated. :p

[Emperor of Jurai]

You evil heartless tease! Damn you, damn you to Tartarus!!!

In other news I very much enjoyed this chapter and shall be waiting with baited breath for the next. Do take your time though.

[Admiral Stoic Rum]

Thanks. I guess thats it huh. Its going to be done soon.

I love this story its not too energetic and has a calm approach to the telling which i enjoy.

[unclefester84]

I say it's applejack who wants to talk to him...

[Spamotron]

Proving once again that Slice of Life stories can have far, far more evil cliffhangers than Adventure could ever dream of.

This chapter feels like the big climax to me. I'm guessing at most 1-2 more chapters and an epilogue to wrap things up.

[Hopeless Appraisal]

I was so certain who it was, all up until that last line. Now I'm sure of nothing and wondering about everything! I've never had quite this much fun with a story.
So Mac finally has his dream. It's simpler than I thought but very fitting. This pretty much resolved Mac's inner struggle, but romance wise I felt like things were settling with Octavia and now suddenly everybody is shuffling around again before my eyes (and quite sensibly so) until I have no idea who is around the next door. What happened during that long in coming date with Rarity? Why won't Octavia commit, if even just to get in Mac's pants before he's gone? And why is Celestia cashing down a golden hoof all over the action? Where does it all gooooo!!!?? Tune in next *cough cough* for unknown excitement!

Thanks again for another awesome chapter, Ivory! I love this story

[Harwick]

You need to eat more Mac... Rarity is seriously worried about your health.

[Kage no Brony]

Macintosh smiled as he prepared a small plate of halved strawberries. He took a tiny bowl and spooned in a dab of vanilla-infused ricotta cheese, whipped until light and airy, drizzled with deep amber honey. “If I didn’t know any better I’d call you two friends.”
“Bite your tongue before I bite it for you,” Octavia said.

Macintosh: Is that a threat, or an invitation? *smirks and wiggles eyebrows*
Octavia: Macintosh! *turns tomato-colored*

[Gordon_Freemane]

Oh you cheeky son of a bitch.

[Aurora Dimmet]

It's Octavia, carrying Rarity. With Rainbow Dash flying above. One set of hoof steps.

[Crimson Dawn]

I am so happy that Pinkie was back in this chapter. She just works so well in this story and with Mac. She would get my vote if this was an election but it isn't.

[erickeme]

You evil monster! How dare you?!

[Wellwater]

I'm calling it: the surprise pony is Princess Luna.

[Zibrony]

Ok, so two chapters in 2013, two chapters in 2014, two chapters in 2015....... so one more chapter this year?

[Zasyri]

I still find it funny that this far in, people still expect a definite ship to actually and finally happen. There is no romance tag either, and the entire point as far as I can tell of all of this was to NEVER actually ship him with anyone no matter whats read or implied. The biggest cardinal rule of this story is to tease the readers senseless, not to present Bic Mac shipping. He better be single with this is all completed, or what was the point?

[Black Hoof]

6971552
Do you know fanfics' authors are humans, with a real life too?

[Black Hoof]

That is a great chapter again! Well done.

[Akouma]

“Mac, everything tastes great,” Soarin said through a mouthful of pancakes. “I can’t believe a guy that cooks as good as you is single.” Soarin tapped his chin and stared at Mac for a moment. “You are single, right? Because sometimes I swear it’s like you're dating everypony and nopony all at the same time.”

Gettin' real meta there, buddy. Like, ultra meta.

[De Carabas]

You cliffhanger-y bastard.

[TheJediMasterEd]

"Yeah, well, even dragons can't hold it forever" said Spike. "So is there a guy's bathroom in this place, or do they all have those matching fuzzy covers on the toilet tank and lid?"

[Hobbestc]

Totally Rainbow Dash.

[Evil Council]

Hmmmm, that cliffhanger. Great way to cap off another hilarious chapter, by leaving me wanting more. I can't wait!

[MisterClacky]

Must look back to ensure no 'Completed' tag.

[WanderingPony]

We still have a tea party with Celestia, so it's definitely NOT over.

Unless we're setting up Princess Big Mac. I hear that's a thing.

[Super-Brony12]

6971442 6970961 6970063
Lulz!

In regards to you though Ivory, I read this chapter and the previous two chapters. All three were very good! Then again, I'd expect nothing less from this story. I forgot how much I enjoy reading this. For awhile, I've kind of been hoping that Rarity would end up with Big Mac. Mainly because that's a pairing that I have never heard of before and I think it would be refreshing. However, with Rainbow Dash's behavior towards Mac entering into the equation, as well as the fact that Octavia and Mac have pretty good chemistry, things have become even more complex.

To be honest, I will be happy with whatever choice you decide on. Whether he ends up with Rarity, Dash, Octavia, all three, or non of them. The key important thing to take away from this story is just simply how well written this is. Every time I read a new chapter, I lose myself within the story. So keep up the awesome work you're doing, and even with the ridiculously HUGE cliffhanger you have left for us, I absolutely can't wait for the next chapter!

~ Super-Brony12

[Anmynous]

IT'S PIKACHU!!

[ROBCakeran53]

That teasing cliffhanger. Well done on this chapter, and eagerly wait for the next.

[Derpmind]

It's Mac's secret female twin from an alternate universe.

[ponygrad]

Another amazing chapter. Forgive me, but this fic has been going on for a while and I think I forgot something. Did we ever find out what the "jam" big mac got the mane six out of before the story started? How he got injured? I remember that it was intentionally ambiguous for many, many chapters, and maybe there was a dream chapter. I know the story has moved on but it's bugging me.

[Kabasue]

It's Blueblood I just knew he had a thing for Earth ponies

[Mister E]

Honestly, this is one of my most favorite stories. I hope to never see a completed tag on it.
With most stories I would at least offer up what aspects of it I liked, but I can't do that here because there is nothing I can offer in contrast. It's perfect. Wonderfully perfect.
Ivory Piano, you write very well. I will happily stroll about in the world you have created for as long as you wish to continue writing about it.

Oh, I almost forgot. As to whom the mystery pony is. Given that there are three ponies in each room except for Soarin and Spitfire, I can tentatively rule out a few. Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, and Octavia are out. These are not what I would call the 'sneaky, quiet' types. So I doubt they'd get past their bunk mates. Given the last line, I'll rule out Rarity, and Twilight, and Applejack. Now I would say Soarin, except that both Spitfire and Mac are expecting a mare.
So who does that leave us?
Fluttershy.
Eeyup.