Scenes From A Hat

by The Hat Man

Spill the Wine [Comedy, Romance; Lyra, Bon Bon]

“I’m just saying, Sweetie Drops,” the older mare continued, tossing her hair back as she took another sip of tea, “that the least you could do is send a postcard.”

“Right,” Bon Bon said as she stared across the table at her mother, her teeth gritted as she forced herself to smile. “Sorry about that. Again.”

Lyra cleared her throat as she sat next to her wife. “So, Mr. and Mrs. Drops, what was B- er, Sweetie Drops like as a foal?”

Bon Bon gave her a sharp, sideways look and a quick shake of her head.

It was too late as Bon Bon’s father let out a chuckle. “Always giving the help trouble,” he said. “Playing her hiding games and making an absolute mess of the kitchen with her little ‘experiments.’”

“And what exactly is it that you do now, dear?” Mrs. Drops asked. “You left so suddenly after you took that mysterious ‘job’ back in the day, and then we hear nothing from you for, oh, how long has it been?”

“Ten years, sweetums,” Mr. Drops said immediately. “But yes, I’d rather like to know as well what you went into. Settle into investment banking like your old man?”

“No, uh… I’m a confectioner,” Bon Bon said. “Because, you know, it’s my talent? Like my cutie mark?”

“Well, so much for my hope that it would turn out to mean that you would be living the sweet life,” Mrs. Drops sighed.

“Well, we may not be rich,” Lyra said, “but we’re still doing just fine!”

Then she heard the sound of another throat clearing and turned to look at the other couple seated at the table. A pair of unicorns.

“Lyra, we appreciate that you’re independent,” Mrs. Heartstrings said, “but don’t you think you’re taking advantage of your friend? Music may be your passion, but you’ve never been able to make that much of a career out of it. I sure hope you’re compensating in some way for relying so much on your housemate.”

Lyra swallowed. “Y-yeah,” she said. “I do a lot of the household chores and such.”

Bon Bon snorted. “After I ask you three or four times, that is,” she muttered.

“Not now, Sweetie Drops!” she hissed.

Bon Bon normally would have loved to enjoy a nice lunch at an outdoor cafe in Canterlot with Lyra. The delicious food, the sights, and of course the company of her favorite mare in the world would have been perfect.

This luncheon, however, had not been the result of a romantic excursion, but rather the outcome of a disastrous set of circumstances...

---

On the last day of their honeymoon at a resort by Luna Bay, Lyra and Bon Bon had been stretched out on a sunny beach, peacefully enjoying the sounds of the crashing waves. As their eyes met, Bon Bon sat up, gently caressing Lyra's cheek... and then they heard galloping hooves approaching.

Bon Bon turned and froze in horror as a strange mare with hair shockingly similar to her own suddenly galloped up and cried, “Sweetie Drops?!”

Bon Bon instantly sprang to her hooves, eyes bulging, and exclaimed “Mother!”

“'Mother?'” Lyra had asked, sitting up.

“Oh, good,” Mrs. Drops had said flatly, narrowing her eyes. “I’m surprised you even remember me after all these years.”

Bon Bon looked away. “Ah, w-well…”

“Stand up straight, dear,” Mrs. Drops had said sharply as she held up Bon Bon’s chin.

“Oh, wow!” Lyra had said, trotting over to the older mare. “Hi there! I’m Lyra! It’s so nice to meet you, ma’am!”

“Mm, yes, charmed,” said the older mare briefly before turning her attention back to Bon Bon. “You know, your father and I were planning to take a trip here for a little romantic getaway before something went wrong at the office. So, as usual, I’m amusing myself with the scenery.”

“And probably the pool boys,” Bon Bon muttered.

“I heard that, young mare,” Mrs. Drops had said with a glare. “And I will not be judged by a pony who can’t even take time in so many years to write her parents even a simple letter.”

Lyra stared at Bon Bon. “Wait, what? Oh my gosh, Bon-”

Bon Bon’s eyes bulged and she tensed up.

“...Sweetie Drops,” Lyra finished slowly. “Uh… what I mean is, maybe we should catch up!”

“Why, what an excellent idea!” Mrs. Drops said, smirking. “Do tell me, what and, ah… who have you gotten involved with lately?”

“Well, Mother, I would… I really would! But Lyra and I are leaving in about an hour, so we should really pack!”

Lyra raised an eyebrow. She was fairly certain they had the rest of the afternoon before catching the train back home.

“Ah, of course you are,” Mrs. Drops said. “By the way, Miss… Lyra, is it?”

“Lyra, ma'am! Lyra Heartstrings!” Lyra said brightly, holding out a hoof.

“Lemon Drops,” Mrs. Drops said, shaking it. “Where exactly are you from?”

“Canterlot, ma’am,” she replied. “Say, actually, maybe we could meet up there sometime soon!”

Mrs. Drops grinned as Bon Bon began to sweat. “What a positively wonderful idea,” she said slowly. “Don’t you think so too, Sweetie?”

Bon Bon’s breath caught in her throat.

---

Lyra had received a fairly stern lecture from Bon Bon on the ride home, and it mainly centered on two things:

1. Bon Bon had grown up rich and her parents were, in her words, “A couple of stiff, overbearing snobs.”
2. They knew nothing of Bon Bon’s years as a secret agent or her current identity as Bon Bon, local confectioner of Ponyville.

“Okay, so maybe you don’t have the best relationship with your parents,” Lyra said. “What’s the big deal?”

Bon Bon groaned. “Oh, sure you would say that. Your parents are… are… hey, wait a minute… I just realized I’ve never met your parents!”

Lyra blanched. “W-well… they uh… they’re a bit traditional and, um… they don’t know about our, uh… status.”

“Economically?”

Lyra swallowed. “Marital.”

Bon Bon blinked. “I know for a fact that you write them a letter at least once a month,” she said. “You’ve mentioned me. And you’re telling me that you never told them we were married? Do they know we were at least dating?!”

“Well… they kinda don’t know I’m into… um… mares.”

Bon Bon's jaw dropped. "Seriously?!" she cried. "What, are they still living in 950 CYP?!"

"Look, I know it's stupid, but it's Canterlot," Lyra sighed. "You know how Canterlot is: always obsessed with classic tradition and the 'right' way of doing things. Mare, stallion, foals, keep up with the neighbors, get a respectable career or at least marry some aristocrat, yadda yadda."

"Yes, except we don't live in Canterlot, Lyra," Bon Bon said pointedly. "We live in Ponyville. What difference does it make at this point?!"

"I know, I know," Lyra said, rolling her eyes. "Look, I love my parents, and it's not like they're bad ponies or outright homophobes, but after years of them hounding me about being a musician, Celestia forbid they also start hounding me about being a filly fooler. Just the thought of having that conversation... ugh, that would be the worst!"

Bon Bon glared at her. “Oh. I see…” Then she paused. A grin slowly spread across her face like pancake batter slowly pooling in a skillet.

Lyra swallowed. “Bon Bon… um, why are you making that face?”

Lyra didn’t get an answer to that question until they showed up at the luncheon and saw her parents sitting right next to Bon Bon’s. And then Bon Bon made that same face again.

Which brings us to the present...

---

“You know, Lyra,” Mr. Heartstrings said, “you really ought to reconnect with Princess Twilight. You were old friends back in the day, remember?”

“Look, Dad, we’re friends, sure,” Lyra said, “but I just don’t want to take advantage of that and turn it into an opportunity. It feels kind of sleazy.”

“Oh, I know, dear,” her father said, heaving a sigh. “Still… I wish your mother and I had made more connections when we first moved to Canterlot. We had roommates just like you and Bon Bon—”

The rest of the table froze.

“—but that stopped once we got jobs and got married.”

Mrs. Drops chewed her salad carefully before swallowing. “Good advice, Mr. Heartstrings,” she muttered. “Please tell me you at least saved up some money from your last job before you started your current career, Sweetie Drops.”

“I, uh—”

“And I’m sorry, but why are the Heartstringses calling you ‘Bon Bon?’”

“Well, why are you calling her Sweetie Drops?” Mrs. Heartstrings asked.

“Well, that is her name,” Mr. Drops huffed.

Mr. and Mrs. Heartstrings looked at each other, then back at Lyra.

Oh no, Lyra thought.

“Well, then why do you keep calling her ‘Bon Bon,’ Lyra?” her father asked. “You never called her anything else in your letters.”

“See, somepony knows how to write her parents,” Mrs. Drops said, giving her own daughter a withering glance.

“Well, you were calling her that from the very first letter you sent about her when you moved to Ponyville, Lyra,” Mr. Heartstrings continued. “Did she change her name or something?”

Oh no, Bon Bon thought.

“And why didn’t she write home after ten years?” He chuckled, rolling his eyes. “What, was she like on a secret mission and had to assume a new identity in a different town?”

Bon Bon started to sweat. Her parents both froze and exchanged a look.

“Oh Sweet Celestia,” her mother breathed. “That's it isn't it? I'd know that guilty look anywhere. That job she mentioned… when she said it was for the government, I thought she meant as a filing clerk or something…”

“Hmph,” Mr. Drops mumbled. “And we just thought ‘Bon Bon’ was some pet name her marefriend gave her.”

“Marefriend?” Mrs. Heartstrings sputtered, spitting out her soup. “What do you mean? What marefriend?”

“Well, obviously your daughter,” Mr. Drops said. “It’s pretty obvious the two of them are an item.”

Lyra and Bon Bon exchanged a look, both finding themselves unable to get a word in edgewise. OH NO, they both mentally screamed.

“Oh, don’t be silly!” Mrs. Heartstrings laughed, waving a hoof dismissively. “I mean, I know that sort of thing is more common and acceptable these days, but still, our Lyra was raised with good, classic traditional values!”

Lyra’s already strained smile grew ever more tight as her parents gave her mirrored looks with the exact same raised eyebrow.

“Lyra, honey, go ahead and tell them,” Mrs. Heartstrings continued slowly. “I mean, you used to get tons of love letters from all those boys in Celestia’s School and your music camp and such.”

“Though, now that I think about it,” Mr. Heartstrings muttered, stroking his chin, “did she ever actually go out with any of them?”

“Oh, hush, I’m sure she did!” Mrs. Heartstrings snapped. “The poor thing refused to show us the letter from the young colt who asked her out, of course, but I remember she did go out a time or two with some pony named… Vinyl Scratch, I think it was?”

Bon Bon leaned over to Lyra. “You used to date Vinyl?” she whispered.

“Just for a few dates!” Lyra hissed back, keeping her gaze fixed on her parents.

“Now, wait a minute,” Mr. Drops said with a smirk. “Isn’t that the name of a famous DJ? A famous mare DJ? I’m pretty sure my younger clients have mentioned her.”

Mrs. Heartstrings’s tense but optimistic smile faded. “Oh, Lyra… does this mean… that you and your housemate are… are…”

Mr. Drops set his drink down heavily, banging the table and ratting the dishes. “Well well well, it seems you’ve found the perfect match, Little Miss Secret Agent: a mare who likewise hides crucial details from her parents. Aren't you two just made for each other?”

The table went silent as Lyra and Bon Bon stared at the deep, accusatory glares from their respective parents and parents-in-law.

“Well,” growled Mrs. Heartstrings, “anything else about your double lives together we should know about?”

Lyra and Bon Bon looked to one another.

I'm sorry, mouthed Lyra.

Bon Bon smiled. I know, she mouthed back. Then she smiled, jerking her head in their parents' direction.

Lyra nodded.

The two of them scooted their chairs next to each other and draped a foreleg around each other’s shoulders.

“We’re not just roommates. We're married,” Lyra began.

“She is obsessed with hands,” Bon Bon added.

“She hunted monsters for the government and lives under an assumed name.”

“And she likes to sit weird.”

“It's not as weird as when you wear that fake mustache.”

“That’s not so weird.”

“It is when you wear it when the two of us—”

“Too much, Lyra.”

“Sorry, Bon Bon.”

They finished, leaving the table somehow even more speechless than before. That is, not only was speech absent, but even surrounding noises and conversations at the cafe seemed to be muted by the silence that followed.

“Wow, uh… that feels good to get off your chest, huh?” Lyra laughed, wiping the sweat from her forehead. “Heh. So, anypony else want to share some secrets?” she asked jokingly.

There was a long pause before Mr. Heartstrings said “I shoplift for things I don’t need.”

“I eat flowers in the Canterlot Gardens,” Mrs. Heartstrings replied, casting her eyes downward.

"Oh, Mom," Lyra groaned, wrinkling her muzzle.

Mr. Drops simply gawked. “What in the… how can you all be so... so nonchalant about—”

“I’m cheating on you, dear,” Mrs. Drops said abruptly, taking a big swig of her tea.

Lyra and Bon Bon looked at each other once again, giving a brief, decisive nod.

“Waiter!” they shouted in unison. “Dessert and wine for six!”

Author's Note:

Written for the Quills and Sofas Speedwriting Group's "Anonymous Contest," on September 27, 2020.

Prompt was "Double Lives."

Oh, and can someone say... mmmusic reference?! It's one of my favorite songs of all time: "Spill the Wine" by WAR and Eric Burdon!

Comments

[Schwabauer]

That doesn't suprise me that mrs.Drops is cheating on Mr.Drops.

[The Hat Man]

10849857
The bigger surprise is that she just admitted it.

[WanderingPony]

It was about that last few paragraphs that the Veritas serum Sweetie slipped in everyone's food began to kick in.

And then the wine. So much wine. In vino, mor Veritas. By the end of it, Lyra and Bon Bon had found out they all had membership in the same herding club and had probably done things together the two mares never, ever wanted to know. But did.

600 bits of wine, a few dessert brandies and a jelly donut later is a story that will remain untold. By me. And don't ask Lyra, she just sits there and froths a bit something something married something half sister.

[Tatsurou]

...this seems very appropriate.

[Stainless Steel Fox]

I was going to put up 'That's what Bilbo Baggin's hates', but in that it 'splash the wine on every door.'