The Waters of March

by Bandy

Friday Afternoon

In short order, Rarity had unpacked, plied Dash out of the cabin with promises of food (“Eventually, Dash, eventually--and no, we can’t stop for a snack, or what’s the point of dinner?”), and led her down the single dirt road towards town.

Though it was called a town, it was much larger than Dash expected, with several narrow pedestrian streets feeding into a main thoroughfare stretching east towards the ocean and west further into the island. A dozen or so ponies milled around outside, perusing touristy clothes at outdoor stalls and drinking colorful cocktails with long straws. The whole place seemed to sway from side to side--or maybe that was all in her head.

“You’re walking kinda slow,” Dash observed as she slowed her pace--again--for Rarity.

“We’re on vacation, dear. There’s no need to rush.”

“Yeah, but the sooner we finish clothes shopping, the sooner we can eat. I don’t even wear clothes anyway.”

“I know,” Rarity said in a soothing voice, “but you look so nice when you do. A wicker sunhat, or maybe something green to go with your coat.”

Dash frowned and kicked the dirt. “I get to pick our dinner, then.”

“Fair enough. Now, I see a nice stall at the end of the street. Would you walk me over there?”

Of course, Dash wanted to say but didn’t. Of course I would.

An hour or so of painful shopping yielded a soft green beach towel for Dash, which she wore over her back like a cape, and a flowing see-through sundress for Rarity, who also convinced Dash to get a matching wicker sunhat with her. Dash compromised by perching a pair of knock-off aviator sunglasses on the brim of her hat.

“The hat will keep me cool,” Dash said, “but the shades will keep me cool.”

Rarity just laughed. “Of course, Rainbow. Of course.”

The sun began to set as they made their way to a sweet-smelling food stall at the edge of town closest to the beach. Long shadows of trees reclined over the carpet of underbrush. Ocean sounds cascaded through openings in the trees. A lone tropical bird cooed somewhere far away.

Dash wasn’t thrilled. Buying things didn’t feel like something to do on vacation. She could buy stuff at home. Heck, she avoided buying stuff at home, and her reasoning behind that was almost entirely laziness. This was just uneconomical--a word Twilight had recently used on her the last time she shelled out for Wonderbolts memorabilia.

Yet, when she noticed the sign on the stall for grilled pineapple burgers, she reached for her coin purse without hesitation.

Rarity turned up her nose when Dash returned with the food. “Did they run out of everything else?”

“Trust me,” Dash said, “you’ll like it.”

Rarity took the burger with some hesitation. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather force me to eat something deep fried? You like deep fried, don’t you?”

“I could ask him to deep fry your pineapple burger.”

Rarity considered her options. Her eyes narrowed. “Let it be known that--”

Dash got bored and took a bit bite out of her burger. She chewed slowly and shook her head.

“Is it that bad?”

“It’s terrible. Horrible.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that--”

“It’s so terrible, I think I’ll have to eat yours too just to be safe.”

Rarity groaned, “Fine, Rainbow Dash, fine,” and took a bite.

The rest of the evening passed like a sunset. They walked to the beach, then back to town, then back to the cabin, and not once did Dash’s hooves leave the ground.

Comments

[ponygrad]

Rainbow Dash always dresses in style.

This really captures the feeling of feeling so complete when you're doing mundane stuff with a good friend.