Yesterdays and Tomorrows

by Shrinky Frod

Past Mistakes

I had to admit one thing. Ever since Celestia had started inviting the Element Bearers, the Grand Galloping Gala hadn’t been boring.

Sure, the team still spent weeks practicing for a ten minute performance. Sure, we still spent the rest of the night turning down some of the best food in Equestria so we wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the year working it off. Sure, it was still hours of sucking up to every unicorn with a purse as large as their egos.

But it certainly wasn’t boring any more.

Fortunately, this year’s excitement had been less of a disaster than usual. No ancient, magic-absorbing monsters, no jealous chaos gods, no violent rampages through the ballroom, just a nice, simple attempt to replace half of Canterlot’s nobility with changelings that were still loyal to Chrysalis, take over the kingdom, and replace Princess Celestia with a shapeshifting puppet of the exiled changeling Queen.

“Ugh… I hate feeling that resin in my coverts!” Soarin grumbled next to me. “Help me out a bit, Fleetfoot?”

“Soarin, I am not preening you on the gala floor.” I smirked over at him. “Go drag Rainbow into the locker room if you’re that desperate.”

“Very funny, Fleet.” He raised a hoof to point at me resolutely. “Don’t think I won’t remember this the next time we pick who gets to be monster bait!”

“Psh, yeah, like any of you except Crash are fast enough for the job.” I swatted his flank with my tail, nodding towards the corner where Rainbow was regaling a group of nobles with some of her only slightly exaggerated exploits. “Go on, Soarin, it’s the perfect excuse to get her in your wings tonight. Just be careful you don’t get whiplash when you finally cut the tension between you two!”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Soarin rolled his eyes, but started over towards the pegasus he’d been making eyes at for the last six months. “Like you’re one to talk, Miss Flirts-With-Catering.”

Was I really that obvious? I had the decency to blush a bit as I glanced over at the tall, lanky orange earth pony stallion who was rushing around the perimeter of the ballroom, keeping hors d’ouerves and dessert pastries stocked. Buck it; so what if I was obvious?

I fluffed up my wings a bit, remembering the last time I’d seen him. His name slipped my mind up until a pony between us moved and I noticed the three slices of cake on his flank, just below the hem of his black suit coat. I licked my lips subconsciously, remembering the first time I’d paid attention to that mark. Fortunately, my flight suit kept the results of those memories from showing!

As I sauntered up to the table, Carrot Cake noticed me. I gave him a smile and a wink as he glanced at the chubby, slightly older blue mare he was working with. I hadn’t met her before; probably his partner or something.

“Ah, Cup, honey, can you handle this one?” He asked. He said something else afterwards, but I didn’t catch it.

Honey?

Before I could ask any questions, Carrot had grabbed a rolling cart of pastries and rushed off, making a second trip around the ballroom to look for any nobles who hadn’t already taken something when he came around moments before. The blue mare walked up to me with a gentle smile on her face.

“Is there anything that catches your eye, dearie?” She asked me.

Honey?

The blue mare leaned in closer over the top of the table and whispered to me just loudly enough for me to hear her.

“Close your mouth, dear, or somepony’s going to ask questions!”

My jaw snapped shut with an audible click; I hadn’t even realized that it was open before. My ears flattened against my head as I turned towards her.

“I have to recommend the sfogliatella and the lobster tail pastries,” she explained, indicating something that looked like a seashell made out of puff pastry and an ornate, layered creation that actually did look a bit like a lobster tail. She reached under the table and kept talking. “But I think you’re more of a tart.”

“I’m not a - oh.” I blushed brightly as she pulled out a slice of an almond tart with a rich, red pear half resting on top of it, crested with whipped cream.

“Give this a try, dearie. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

I quickly took the small plate on a bent wing, tipping it to slide the tart where I could get a bite instead of bothering with the tiny fork she offered me. When I bit into it, the salty-sweet flavor of almond blended perfectly in with the potent, wine-soaked pear on top, the Marelot they’d used almost evaporating and carrying the flavor through my mouth.

Well, at least I wasn’t so freaked out that I couldn’t at least taste my last meal.

“I’m Cup Cake.” She smiled, offering me a hoof. I reached up to shake it quickly, trying not to let on exactly how surprised I was to be meeting her. She didn’t seem upset about anything though… maybe she was his sister?

I really, really wanted her to be his sister.

“I see you’ve already met my husband, Carrot,” she continued, crushing that fleeting hope beneath her hoof as she settled back on all fours. “So, who are you?”

I took a last bite of the tart, chewing to buy myself a bit more time before I swallowed and had to answer her. She had to be so nice about things, pretending I hadn’t completely given away that there was something going on between me and Carrot. Had been, at least.

Maybe they’d only gotten married since the conference? Celestia, I couldn’t be that lucky.

“Fleetfoot, of the Wonderbolts,” I said with my best ‘schmoozing with the nobles’ grin. “Guess the last part’s pretty obvious though, isn’t it?” I indicated my uniform with a chuckle.

“It’s not the only thing that is, dearie.” Cup cocked her head slightly, leaning in towards me. Her eyes shifted somehow… but she wasn’t angry with me. No, it was much worse than that.

She looked like she felt sorry for me.

“I’m not upset with you,” she promised me, pushing a small glass of water across the table with the rest of the leftover desserts on it. “And I’ve gotten over being upset with him.”

I picked up the water and drained it quickly, washing the taste of the tart down along with the feeling that it was about to come back for an encore.

“I’ve gotta go,” I told her lamely as I put the glass down and turned around, trotting away and out towards a balcony as quickly as I could without making a scene.

When I stepped outside, I was promptly greeted by the site of Prince Blueblood nuzzled up against one of the other nobles, some sleek unicorn model I’d seen around plenty, but never really gotten to know. I did know one thing about her though.

“Does Fancy Pants know you’re out here?” I asked them icily.

“Bien sur!” The mare giggled over her shoulder at me. Then she saw the look on my face, and it must have been something else because her expression changed in an instant. “Come along, mon prince let’s find somewhere more private to play.

“Eh, quite.” Blueblood gave me a shaky, uncertain smile, not sure if my anger was for him or his lady friend. He didn’t need to know it wasn’t for either of them. The two made themselves scarce, slipping back into the dwindling party and leaving me alone under the night sky of a celebrating Canterlot.

I lifted my forelegs up onto the railing, staring out over the lights of the city, celebrations still roaring on into the night far below me. I wanted to just climb over the rail and fly off, but I knew Spitfire’d kill me if she found out I’d bailed. Being anti-social was one thing, but leaving could cost the team a sponsor if a rich fan wanted a personal meeting.

Whorse.

It wasn’t fair. I didn’t know he was married. He hadn’t been wearing a ring, hadn’t told me anything.

Not that I’d asked.

Celestia-damned hussy!

I remember Mom screaming when I came home from flight camp. Dishes flying through the walls, followed by a piece of Dad’s trophy case.

Bucking bitch! He’s my husband!

That was how I learned Dad had taken off with a co-worker of his. Mom was never the same after that.

Slut!

“I didn’t know!”

I didn’t care. Just another after-show one-night stand, a night in Manehattan in a cheap hotel, splitting a bottle of Jaeger between us. Five damned years not thinking about it after that, until I’d seen him tonight.

Housewrecking cunt.

“It wasn’t my fault!”

“She knows that,” Carrot said behind me, taking the needle off the broken record playing my mother’s voice in my head.

“I should pitch you over the bucking rail,” I growled back at him, ears flat against my head.

“No need to bother,” he chuckled weakly. “I could just about jump it and save you the trial. Be rough on Cup and the kids though.”

I was going to be sick. I was going to vomit, and some guard on the ground floor would probably be knocked out and have no way to explain the mess when he came to. Fortunately, years of flight training had taught me how to redirect nausea into more useful responses.

Right at that moment, for example, I was redirecting it into rage

“You had -” I stopped myself mid-shout, not wanting any more attention than I was already risking coming out here. “You had bucking foals?” I hissed at him, glaring at the side of his head as he leaned up on the rail next to me.

“Have,” he whispered back. “They hadn’t been born yet… that’s why I was at the Manehattan Munchie Marketing Conference alone.”

“Oh, this just gets better and better! So you bucked me while your wife was pregnant at home and you couldn’t get any?”

“That’s not why, and you wouldn’t have cared if it was!” He scowled as he turned back towards me. “All you wanted was no-strings, and I didn’t want you caught up in mine!”

“Well here I bucking am. I might be an easy lay, but I’m not a cheater!” What he’d said stuck in my head though.

That wasn’t why? Cup had seemed nice to a fault inside, unless he’d just wanted somepony more toned, why else….

Had I really been that eager?

“I didn’t think you were,” he said softly, the scowl softening into a frown as he looked back out over the city. “Didn’t think I was either, until I was through my third cider.”

“Oh, don’t give me that excuse, you weren’t that drunk, and neither was I!”

“Would you prefer if I told you it was a mistake?”

Okay, that stung, but to be honest… I would.

“At least then you’d be taking responsibility for it!”

“Never said I wasn’t. Just that I didn’t think about cheating on Cup until I was starting to get hammered. Didn’t think I’d go through with it until I was the rest of the way there. I’m sorry, Fleetfoot, I really am. You were the last pony I thought I’d hurt, and the last one I wanted to.”

“So you did want to hurt her, huh?” I pointed a wing back towards the ball room. I almost felt bad for him when he lowered his chin to the railing.

Almost.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I did.”

And there went the sympathy he’d earned. If my suit hadn’t been keeping my coat in line, I was sure I’d have been bristling on Cup’s behalf, but he pulled his suit open and reached in with his teeth to pluck out a picture. He pinned it against the rail with his hoof, and let me look at the two foals sitting on either side of a birthday cake, four candles on either side of it as they both took in a deep breath to blow them out.

“The twins, Pound and Pumpkin. Notice anything?” He asked me bitterly. Of course I did; knowing who their parents were, it was impossible not to notice the horn on Pumpkin’s head, or the way Pound was stretching his wings as he inhaled.

“Love those two more than anything, even their Mom,” he whispered, putting the picture away and trying to brush a couple tears from his muzzle as he did. “They’re my foals, even if they weren’t my babies. I was just too stupid to realize it when we met.”

“You were getting back at her. You were using me, to get back at your wife.”

“She broke one of our rules, and I wasn’t going to break the same one. Oh bucking… you weren’t in heat, were you?” He turned towards me, eyes wide as he realized that was a possibility. “I mean, you said you weren’t, but -”

“No way! I do not, nor have I ever, had foals, and not looking to change that any time soon.” Carrot sighed and mopped his forehead, and left me to mull over what he’d said.

“So what’d you mean about rules?” I asked him as the relieved silence started to turn into an awkward one.

“Cup and I had an open marriage for years,” he explained, and my ears pricked up. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all?

“We closed it up, except to a couple very special ponies to us, after… well, you know. Our rules were no foals, and check with each other before we did anything.”

“And then she got pregnant by another stallion.”

“Two of ‘em,” Carrot laughed. “Couple family friends, helping her out with her heat while I was at the Fillydelphia Phyllo Festival, learning how to make the treats we brought in tonight. They just… weren’t careful enough, that time. Eight years, and no foals out of me or anypony else, but… well, it only takes once.

“When we found out she was pregnant, we both had our suspicions. I’d gotten back into town just at the end of her heat, and she hadn’t really been feeling it then either. We both figured it had just wrapped up early at the time, but… then the doctor told us we had a pegasus and a unicorn coming. And the frosting on top was that I was scheduled to be on a train to Manehattan just after the appointment!”

“So you decided to break the other rule,” I finished for him. It certainly explained how nervous he’d been when I started flirting with him at the bar. And afterwards, until we’d both made inroads into the bottle.

“Yeah. I used you to get back at her. Figured we’d probably never see each other again, and even if we did, neither one of us had any delusions it wasn’t a one-time thing, right?”

“Not really,” I admitted, leaning back up on the railing next to him. Hesitantly, I stretched out a wing and wrapped it around his barrel. “Thought I’d try for a rematch when I saw you tonight, but never even really thought about it until then. You told her, though?”

“Yeah. Cheating on somepony you love? Turns out it sucks, and I’d gone and done it on purpose. Funny thing though? She wasn’t even really mad at me. She just… suggested that we stop fooling around except with the ponies who weren’t just one-time playmates. What sort of jackass would I have been if I’d complained about that, right?

”Then, when the foals were born, and I saw them for the first time… it didn’t matter who their sires were. I was going to be their father, and that was what mattered. Since then… well, no offense, but I haven’t thought about you, or any other mare outside our little herd, since then. Well, except when I needed to remember what a rat I’d been,” he admitted.

“Funny,” I laughed, “self-flagellation always seems to be worse than when we let somepony else do it.”

“We know how much it’ll take to make it hurt,” Carrot observed, leaning against me gently under my wing. “I’m sorry I used you like that, Fleetfoot.” He gave my mane a gentle, almost fatherly nuzzle.

“So am I.” I pulled away from him, tucking my wing back in before anypony could get the wrong idea. “And sorry I found out about it like this.”

“If it makes a difference, I was telling the truth. Neither of us blame you for any of it. We just… screwed up. You getting tangled up in it was something I didn’t even think could happen at the time. But… well, three ciders, and I think about a quarter of a bottle of Jaeger by then?”

“Lightweight,” I teased him gently. “I thought you earth ponies were supposed to be tougher stuff than that.”

“I did too.” He looked back out over the city, then got back down onto all fours.

“I should get back in there, help Cup pack up. Most of the guests have already left, and we’ve got a long trip to get back to Ponyville tonight.”

“You’re not staying in town?” I asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“Please, Canterlot’s more expensive than Manehattan!” He laughed, shaking his head and starting back into the ballroom.

I followed him in, and just like he’d said, most of the guests were gone by now. Even Blueblood and Fancy’s wife had found their way out. What had she said again?

“Of course!”

Of course Fancy knew what she was up to.

Of course it was okay for her to be off, trying to seduce one of the most easily seduceable stallions in Equestria.

Of course Fancy was probably off doing the same thing with some charming filly… or maybe even another stallion of his own, just for variety.

Of course, they were Canterlot nobility, and ones who were notoriously willing to spit in the face of convention and judgment at that.

Of course they were being scandalous; what fun was life if you weren’t from time to time?

Of course, you didn’t have to be a noble to think that maybe your life could stand a little more scandal… if everypony involved was good with it ahead of time.

I jumped ahead, spreading my wings for a beat to help me catch up with the stallion who was talking to his wife across the snack table.

“Hey… you two want a little help packing up for the night?” I offered. “And uh… maybe a place to crash until morning? Usually pretty safe from here to Ponyville, but it’d really suck if one of you slipped going down the mountain and twisted something… y’know?”

The two of them looked at each other, then over at me, then back to each other.

Floozy, I heard Mom’s voice starting up in the back of my head again.

“Well, we’d be fools to turn down a couch for the night,” Cup smiled at me, a little uncertainly.

“Please, I’ve got a Wonderbolt suite at the Canterlot Bitz.” I winked at them both, my confidence starting to come back. “The couch is nice, but you should see the Princess bed.”

“The couch’ll be plenty for us… tonight,” Carrot offered, his voice tinged with a little regret.

“Plenty for me tonight,” I corrected him. “Come on, let me help you put away what you plan to take for day-olds tomorrow, and I’ll show you the way.”

The couch would be fine… tonight.

Tonight left room for there to be a tomorrow.

Author's Note:

I will freely admit, I'm 99.9% sure that this is not my best work.

But for crying out loud, I was given a contest challenge to pair *one of the Cakes with Fleetfoot!*

Also, I haven't written this many words on a project in far, far longer than I want to admit, so *maybe* this means I'm on a medical cocktail that will knock the rust off my mental gearing? Maybe?

Anyways, please let me know what you thought - constructive criticism is welcome.

"Fleetfoot and the Cakes?!?" doesn't count, that was assigned to me.

Story entered in the Unexpected Meeting contest, but written primarily for Nailah's January Randomly Assigned Pairing contest!

Comments

[Adeire]

Fleetfoot and the Cakes, that is pretty much a crackship if I have ever seen one.
I liked the whole character development and that "missunderstanding" with the tart, made me smile when I realized that it could be taken as a hidden insult anyway.

[Shrinky Frod]

8826646
Thank you, I liked that one.

And yeah, TOTAL crackship. I had the choice to ask for a reroll, but my dumbass self has previously publicly stated that *any* couple can be worked into a pairing if you apply enough creativity to it.

And so, crackshipper's honor at stake, I set about my task....

[forbloodysummer]

I think it's good you didn't take the reroll, then you might have ended up with somepony who wasn't Fleetfoot, and that's always sad.

I think Fleet blames herself way too much here. I appreciate it brings back memories and stuff, but if she didn't know, there's nothing she could have done. No point worrying about it, just move on.

[Shrinky Frod]

9662825
Oh absolutely. But there's old trauma there that I'm never likely to get into.