Love and Tolerance

by Final_Draft

Terms

Love and Tolerance
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic © Hasbro & Lauren Faust
By: TOO S0BER

--***::: Chapter 4 :::***--
Terms

Jealous.

That's what I felt as I took in the spacious kitchen inside Ashley's house. It was at least three times larger than the small cooking space that my apartment offered. Glorious, plentiful counter space with regular sized oven and stove top (the dinky, electric one I had was painfully tiny), and the part that made me pea-green with envy was the island counter top that dominated the central space. I liked to cook, and my small studio made that challengingly difficult. Oh, if I had this kitchen at my disposal...

A snicker caught my attention.

Marcus was sitting in the living room, watching me as I gushed over the fabulous kitchen, a grin covering his face. It happened every time we came to visit Ashley here; I would always gawk over the kitchen, daydreaming of what I would do with it. Ashley would roll her eyes and Marcus would snicker at me – just like he was doing now.

Normally I would playfully flick him the bird, but instead I just blushed. Feeling the heat on my face.

Momentarily I stared at my hooves, reminded of yet another function I'd lost from lack of fingers – not that I flipped people off on a regular basis (with maybe the exception of traffic). Then a chill ran down my spine as I looked around the admittedly awesome kitchen.

How would I cook the same way again without those digits?

Now that's a depressing thought, frowning intensely.

Cooking wasn't a talent that I planned to exploit for a career, but it was damned fun. Making and preparing your own food, eating things that were fresh. I could make soups that would blow the pants off of Campbells. I could make Chinese food that would put restaurants of the same genre to shame. I could accurately guess the recipe of anything by hearing the first hoof full of ingredients – plus the main ingredient of course. There was such satisfaction in it as well, completing that meal after putting forth the effort, and devouring the results! That was the best part.

And as I slumped against the island counter top, the unmistakable pit in my stomach said that I might never be able to do things like that ever again.

“Damn it,” I muttered, wiping away the single tear.

I glanced over at Marcus in the adjacent living room. He was sitting on a white leather couch with the equinized, still unconscious, body of Ashley, prone on the next seat over. It had nearly been half an hour since she fainted at the front door. We were both worried, yet relieved.

I thought back to the male pony at the police scene. The way he had injured himself shaving off his coat. As I trotted into the living room, I stared at the long, stiff appendage that stuck out of Ashley's forehead. There was a word for it, but, like several things today, it eluded me. Morbid fantasies of my friend freaking out played across my mind's eye. Ashley using a hammer and chisel, a very scary manic look on her equine face, getting ready to break the spike off. Another of her using a blowtorch to cut it off. Needless to say, all of them ended horribly.

“I guess, maybe, we were lucky?” I asked, still staring at Ashley.

“Yeah,” Marcus replied slowly. He had one of his dark skinned hands on one of Ashley's gray hooves, holding it comfortingly. I knew he was thinking along the same lines I was. That Ash may have completely lost it and tried to remove the thing.

Briefly, I wondered if I would have went crazy and tried to saw my wings off if I didn't love the idea of flying. Soaring through the sky, high above the ground and the hundreds of objects affected by gravity, laughing my tail off. Staring at the horn (that's the word!), I wondered what it could do? Was it just for show? I doubted that Ash would know.

“How are you holding up?” Marcus's question shook me from my thoughts, and I had to ask him to repeat as the question just bounced off my inattentive head.

“Uh, fine. I guess.” glancing at Ashley and back to him. “I'm just worried about her.” gesturing with a hoof. Honestly, I was more than worried. Despite her revealing the sexual orientation that sent me spiraling to the dumps, the feelings I had did not go away. They only receded, becoming a distant, painful reminder.

I tried to recall Ashley's face, her real face, and not the cartoon-ish equine that had replaced it. The image wouldn't come. I furrowed my brow in frustration, concentrating. Nope, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember. Then I tried to see my old face, and that drew a blank as well. My eye twitched. It felt like a very different kind of violation. Like a piece of me had been plucked away and thrown in the garbage. I started hyperventilating again, and graciously took the old paper bag, breathing rapidly. One of my eyes twitching every several breaths.

Now I was wondering if I had come out of this sane.

“What's wrong?” Marcus asked in alarm. I had been breathing into the bag for several minutes, repeating that disturbing revelation in my head.

I can't remember! My brain screamed at me. Her face, mine! I... I... The world blurred a little bit as my eyes misted over.

Then my vision snapped to a different part of the house, accompanied by a sharp, stinging pain in my left cheek. Reflexively, I caught myself before I was knocked completely over. The thoughts were jarred from my head, and I immediately snapped my head back to where it had been, just in time to catch Marcus putting his arm back on his lap. I blinked several times, processing what just happened.

“Thanks,” I said, flushing slightly. “I needed that.”

Marcus smirked, “Oh anytime. It was fun.”

I glared and smiled at him at the same time.

A small groan drew both of our attentions.

“She's waking up!” I stated the obvious gleefully.

“Sam, you should hide.”

Huh?

“B-but why?” I asked sullenly. I wanted to talk to Ash, comfort her if she needed it. She would need to see a... well maybe not familiar face, but a friendly one at least.

“Because,” he said, gesturing to Ash as she stirred slightly. “I don't think she's ready to deal with seeing another pony yet. I mean, she fainted when she saw you. She needs to deal with her own thoughts first.” Marcus explained pointedly.

Grudgingly, I knew he was right. Ashley's previous reaction was less than reassuring.

I looked sadly at my good friend, feeling my wings flutter a bit, and bowed my head in resignation before trotting behind another couch on the other side of the room. Safely out of sight.

I didn't like this, I hated it. I wanted to be there when she woke up, I wanted to be the one holding her hoof with my own. Instead I was lying down like a dog again, hiding behind a couch! For a moment I felt a pang of jealousy directed at Marcus, since I knew he would be holding Ashley's hoof in his hands. Arrugh! The thought of palms with digits attached just made me all the more angry. I rested my head against the back of the comfortable furniture, waiting impatiently.

Calmed down a bit, I recalled my previous thoughts now, somewhat surprised.

That wasn't fair of me. Marcus didn't feel that way about Ashley – I did, and I was pretty sure she didn't feel that way about any man; if for no other reason than because she wasn't into men. I sighed quietly, feeling those ears manipulate against my skull.

“M-Marcus...?” the pointed ears perked up as the conversation began.

“Yeah, I'm here Ash.” I'm here too damn it!

“I... I thought I heard...” I could almost see Ashley looking around.

“Don't worry about it,” What!? “just concentrate on pulling yourself together.” I bristled at his previous statement. Oh you're getting such a clopping!

“I had the weirdest dream,” Ash began telling her story. “I woke up completely... wrong. The doorbell rang and... it was you and this weird pony... creature... thing,” I blushed, hard, and shrunk at being referred to as a thing; nearly reminded about that ignoramus cop from before. “with wings.”

“Yeah,” Marcus kept his tone even, not making any of his usual cracks or quips.

“It was terrifying,” Ashley continued, her sweet voice trembling. “I'm glad it was only a dream.” I winced at that statement. Oh Ash... “I can't imagine being one of those... things. The one I saw was... orange. Can you imagine?” I thumped my head in my hooves. Okay, maybe not the most stellar color, but I didn't exactly get to choose!!

“Better than gray...” I whispered sullenly to myself.

“What was that?” Ashley's voice spoke up and I froze, listening intently.

“Nothing Ash,” Marcus reassured her. I would have grumbled, but didn't dare make another sound... yet.

“Um, okay...” she replied, not sounding fully convinced. “say, have you gotten taller? You seem... a lot taller for some strange reason.”

“Uh...Ashley?” I heard a ruffling sound that suggested Marcus shifting in his seat. “It... wasn't a dream. Something's happened, and it's not just you.” his tone was full of worry and uncertainty. Ashley remained silent, confusion had gotten the better of her.

Marcus soundly gulped. “That orange equine you saw earlier was...” he paused. What was this, dramatic effect day? “real...” his last word carried a heavy weight.

“I... I don't understand.” it sounded more like she simply didn't want to understand.

Marcus sighed heavily and called out, “You can come out now.”

I stood up slowly, not really sure I wanted to do this again, and thought of that comforting hand on my shoulder. Everything will work out, one way or another. If that was true, why did I feel so strongly otherwise?

I trotted around the corner with a small smile, trying to keep the rising tension to a minimum.

The gray coated, black maned mare stared blankly at me, and slowly over a period of a few seconds, her eyes widened and pupils shrunk to pinpricks. I tried to move closer, but Marcus discreetly waved at me to stay back. Damn it I wanted to run up and tell her everything was fine. I watched apprehensively, and with quite the heavy heart, as her small petite body started to shake visibly. The beginnings of a breakdown becoming apparent.

“AHHHHHH!” she shrieked, and I covered my ears as quickly as I could.

I wanted to lock myself away, throw the key in a hole, and build an apartment complex over top of it. It was pretty much the reaction I feared; she was screaming in horror at the sight of me. My heart plummeted, on its way to China for sure.

Marcus, one ear clutched by his hand, motioned me back behind the couch. I quickly obeyed, and not long after I did, the shrieking died down to gasps and small screeches between breaths.

“Wha... wh... what!?” Ashley stammered between panicked breaths.

“That was Sam,” Marcus said plainly.

“Huh-what!?”

Marcus didn't reply, but I imagined he nodded glumly.

“I – but,... that...” she paused for long, painful seconds. “Oh I'm so sorry!”

Taking that as some sort of cue, I peaked around the couch at her. She had the cutest look of apology on her equinized face, ears dropped back and forehooves up to her mouth. Just like before, I trotted out from behind the couch slowly.

I was at a loss for words. Here it was, calm confrontation, and I had nothing to say. The scream was condemnation enough, even though she apologized earnestly. My heart was still on a one way to China as far as I was concerned.

“Oh I'm so sorry Sam,” Ashley apologized again, holding her hooves out to me. “I- I didn't realize... I...” she stammered pathetically, there was probably a thousand things she wanted to say, but the words simply wouldn't come.

I sighed heavily, bowing my head a bit. “It's okay.” No it wasn't, but I'd comfort her anyway. I put on my best fake sincerity face, hopefully the super expressive pony face would work to my advantage. It did, Ashley relaxed visibly, but it was apparent that it still bothered her greatly. Nothing got by Marcus though, as he stared at me, I got the feeling he knew I was hurting from it. No matter, as long as Ashley was okay, I would live... even with a heavy heart. A new habit seemed to have developed, as now my wings liked to flutter when I was nervous or uncomfortable.

Ashley gasped, and immediately looked like she regretted it.

I blinked, at first not realizing why she was gasping.

“Sam is also a pegasus,” Marcus said casually, then gestured with a hand.

A smile crept across my face, and I showed off the one thing about this ordeal I was actually excited for. As though I was putting on a spectacular show, I slowly spread my wings wide and high, allowing them both to bask in their glory. Marcus had seen them partially before, but even so, his face was priceless as his eyebrows arched and he lowered his sunglasses onto his nose. Ashley's jaw was gaping, blinking several times in disbelief as she stared at the splayed wings.

Six and a half, maybe seven foot wingspan.

Blushing, I fought the urge to close them. Damn I'm doing that a lot lately. What is your problem face!?

“Hot damn,” Marcus snickered again, “and Sam still likes to show off...”

I gave him a look that definitely supported that statement, seeming to say You-know-it!.

Once Ashley manually closed her jaw with a hoof, I decided enough was enough and folded down my glorious wings. The motion was fluid, even smooth, and didn't cause the least bit of discomfort or felt awkward like before. It was a little startling how quickly I had gotten used to this foreign body. What I thought would take, at least, days of diligent practice, was quickly squishing down to less than several hours of time.

“So,” Ashley tried to break the ice. “have you flown yet?”

“Nope,” I replied, grinning again. “but I will try to soon. Oh, very soon.” I couldn't hide my excitement.

“Oh I would like to see that when you do,” Ash said, her own enthusiasm building slightly as a weak smile made itself known. I had a feeling she was still trying to make amends for freaking out at my appearance. I hoped this wouldn't become a regular thing, but it seems it might.

Marcus seemed nervous, so I asked, “What's wrong with you?”

“Er-” seems I caught him off guard, he jerked out of his thoughts and nearly dropped the dark shades perched on his nose. “Might want to wait on that. We still don't know how the public will react to... flying pegasus pony mares.”

My eye twitched at the word 'mare', reminded yet again that I was gender swapped.

“Mare?” Ashley scrunched her face in confusion, at first looking at something distant in thought. “Mare...?” she looked at me, looking for an answer I was reluctant to give. I nodded very slightly, eyes in another direction towards the tiled floor. “Mare!?” I imagined she was gaping at Marcus now.

I dragged my vision away from the creamy tiled floor to look at them.

The gray, black maned mare that once, and still does, held my heart had that look again. The one that suggested another panic attack. Muzzle open and eyes pinpricked. Marcus just looked awkward. I could imagine the gears grinding in her head, and I recognized that sound: fast breathing associated with hyperventilation, and my still human friend handed the other mare the crumpled brown bag.

Almost five minutes had elapsed by the time she got a hold of her breathing and calmed down.

Since Ashley was in a little bit of denial, we each explained. I told her how I woke up this morning like this, and then Marcus explained our 'discovering' I was no longer male – and he added that the male pony would be called a 'stallion'. After a moment, she blushed for some reason, turned away from us and her head lowered. I thought I heard her sigh in relief before she turned back. Then, impossibly, she blushed more.

Before either of us could stop her, Ashley darted away towards her room shouting, “Be-right-back-see-ya-later-bye!”

Marcus and I exchanged looks, and shrugged.

Mares. Was I going to be this crazy and dramatic too? Ugh.

__---***::: <o> :::***---__

We'd been waiting patiently in the living room.

As much time had passed since we had arrived at Ashley's house, I occupied the spot she had vacated next to Marcus. Lounging with my hooves curled underneath me, while the human slouched. I don't handle boredom very well, and I was struggling to stay awake. I tried to occupy my thoughts with why Ashley was acting the way she was, like that weird (yet somehow adorably cute), intense blush from earlier. But more importantly; what was she doing in there!?

His Sam-is-thinking-again senses tingling, Marcus distracted me with chit-chat about the upcoming video game launch. I knew he was dodging the question of whether or not I was actually going to the midnight event, so he asked questions about the game itself. If I thought it was going to be fun or not, had the developers listened to the community or not, and shared speculations on what the campaign would hold based on the trailers and leaked information. It was a long time before the subject matter began to whither and dry up. In a way, I was more excited for the release now, not the least bit disappointed that I likely wouldn't go to the launch the way I was now; but who knows, maybe that'll change.

I sat up on my forehooves and stretched. I glanced at the nearby cuckoo clock on the wall and gawked. “It's been almost an hour!” Staring at Marcus, who wore his indifferent casual look. “What the hell is she doing!?” Borderline outrage.

“Well, whatever it is we should just leave her to it.” Marcus suggested, ever the patient pseudo-older sibling. Ugh, sometimes he's too saintly and patient.

“Well,” I mocked. “I'm going to find out what the deal is...” and with that leaped off the couch-

-and promptly fell on my face, feeling a straining sensation in my rear.

I looked back behind me, Marcus grasping my two-toned brown tail in his hand to prevent me from disturbing Ashley. I broke out in indignation that would make a convicted felon balk, glaring the same daggers at him that I used against that arrogant cop earlier.

“How-how dare you!” I said dangerously, fighting a blush at the fact my naked rear was in the air.

“Just leave her be,” he more sternly suggested as I jerked my tail from his grip.

“Marcus,” I tried to reason, temporarily forgetting his little stunt as I dusted myself off and stood before him. “what if she's breaking down in there? What if she needs our help? Has that occurred to you?”

“Yes,” he replied, scooting the glasses up his nose, then crossed his arms. “and unless we hear a crash, a scream, or crying, we should not disturb her.”

I felt more annoyed now than ever. By the time we heard a crash, a scream or crying, it might be too damned late! I relayed this thought to my friend, but he held his ground firmly. I paced quickly back and forth in front of him, glancing occasionally.

I was plotting. I was smaller and faster and had more legs to carry me, and could likely get to the door and, maybe, open it before he caught me. But on the other hoof, his two legs were longer, and even though I felt confident in my ability to ru- gallop, Marcus still had the body he was born with and therefore had the experience and muscle memory etcetera. And fingers, I bitterly remembered, thinking about his grasping my tail. The scenario played in my pony head.

I would say or do something to make him relax. Then, when he was sufficiently off guard, I would dash off to Ashley's room. I would then open the door as quickly as possible; with any luck, I'd garner enough of a head start to get the necessary time to wrestle with the round door knob, and hopefully have enough time to slam and lock the door. I fought the smile creeping along my muzzle as I imagined him beating on the door, and me doing/saying everything to rub it in; including but not limited to chanting 'You mad bro?'.

Turns out I didn't have to fight that smile for long.

Marcus casually sat forward in his seat, now perched on the very edge, elbows resting on his knees. Casual as hell, he looked at me through those shades and shrugged, as if suggesting he changed positions to get more comfortable. I knew better. That was a preemptive strike pose. Somehow, someway, he knew what I was plotting and countered. I cursed inwardly.

Damn it! Trying to keep an even face. Why must you be so perceptive!?

Awkwardly, we stared at each other, daring the other to make the first move. Marcus lifted a hand to his glasses, lowering them to his nose again to look me in the eyes.

Oh ho ho, I thought. It. Is. On!

My brain conspired and my mouth moved, “So... thirsty?” tensing.

“No.” Marcus deadpanned.

“Are you sure?” I cooed. “Pretty hot outside...”

“I'm good.” Damn it! He didn't even blink.

I thought for a moment, desperate for an excuse that would succeed in letting me get out of arms reach. Oh, that might work...

I stretched briefly, “Well fine, I give.” I said. Marcus arched an eyebrow, not buying a single word.

“I may not be able to trick you into wanting a drink,” I continued, slowly turning towards the kitchen. My opponent didn't move a muscle, but I imagined he was mentally preparing. “but I actually want some water or something.” sincerely.

I walked slow as could be in the direction of the kitchen. Marcus got up to follow. Instead of following directly in my hoofsteps, he went the opposite direction – placing himself between the kitchen and the most direct route to Ashley's room. Clever girl.

Well, guess it was now or never to try this. I braced up against the counter top with my forehooves, still watching Marcus and he observed me, and used my dexterous wings to open the cabinet containing the glasses. Smartly, I chose one of the re-usable plastic cups – wouldn't want to break an expensive glass one.

I was almost distracted from my plan at how the wingtips seemed almost as manipulatable as fingers, and had a decent grip. I frowned at the cup.

“Huh,” I said evenly. “I wonder if Ash has any soda in the garage?” saying it more to myself to keep the ruse. I watched Marcus shrug through my peripheral vision, trotting to the other exit in the kitchen, leading to the garage. This time he followed behind me, through the cooking room.

Momentarily I was around the corner and out of sight. The way to the garage was to the left, I went right, into the dining room – which had carpet that silenced my hoofsteps. I smirked, unable to control it anymore, and broke into a maddening gallop through the dining room and back into the living room. Once the carpet gave way to the tiled floor though, my hard hooves echoed off the surface. Passing the first entrance, I glanced at Marcus and stuck a tongue out at him as I ran by. Ha!

My assumption seemed to be correct. I was the faster and Marcus was lumbering trying to catch up, still recovering from my deception.

I rounded the corner and started to go up the stairs-

-and face planted, again, just a few steps up.

No! I mentally screamed in frustration, looking back at Marcus as he held my tail for a second time. I was partially relieved that he wasn't standing there like he had caught up without effort. In fact, he didn't; the thing that held my tail wasn't even his hand! It was a long, metal stick with a rubber clamp at the end. And Marcus himself was sprawled on the floor, holding onto the device with a death grip.

“Gotcha!” he stated in triumph. “Really, though, nice try. I give it a...” Marcus feigned like he was giving his next words careful thought. “Eight point five.” finishing with a cocky smirk.

I bristled with fury! I was so close I could practically feel the door knob in my hooves! Arrugh!!

“And. Where. Did. You. Get. That.” I said between breaths, glaring at him.

By then Marcus picked himself up off the floor, grip still firm on the handle and thus my tail. I wasn't going anywhere. “I snagged it right outside the kitchen,” he didn't try to hide the gloating smile. “Figured you'd still try something despite your 'honest' words...”

Damn his perceptiveness!

He drew closer and grasped my brown tail with his free hand, and then released the clamp; setting it aside. I tried one last time to break free, lashing out at his arm – and completely missed. The world turned upside down and I felt gravity reverse. Marcus now held me aloft by my tail.

Oh the indignity! I crossed my forehooves and pouted at him as if to say: Really, did you really just do that? Curse this tiny, small, short, useless pony body! Arrugh! I'm pretty sure steam was escaping my muzzle as I snorted at his smirk.

“I hate you,” I spat evenly.

“I know,” smug, devilish smirk apparent. That troll face appeared in my head again... with shades.

“Did I miss something?” we both turned to see a rather distressed looking Ashley-pony staring down at Marcus, still holding me upside down by my tail. “Never mind, I don't want to know.” dismissing our strange shenanigans with a hoof. I blushed again, struggling against Marcus's grasp.

“Put me down already!” I yelled at him, flailing.

“Awe, do I have to?” he asked innocently, like a child wanting to keep a lost kitten. “You're so cute when you're mad... and embarrassed.”

I froze, feeling that twitch in my eye. “All those times I thought you were my friend,” I began. “that was before I learned you were evil.”

He snickered, I glowered.

__---***::: <o> :::***---__

“Really?” I asked in disbelief. The three of us had returned to the living room. “That's what you're so concerned about?” Marcus sat next to me on the very same couch while Ashley paced in front of us.

“What do you mean 'really'?” Ashley reeled, seemingly appalled. “It's nothing short of the worst. Possible. Thing!” I rolled my eyes at the over-dramatization. Apparently, the reason she had scurried off to her room was because she was embarrassed about being without clothes; spending the last hour trying to squeeze into old clothing. Since she was still naked, I assumed that she had no success.

A thought occurred to me. How necessary was clothing to ponies anyway? Privates weren't as readily visible on equines as long as they didn't rear and spread too often. What may be visible was concealed pretty effectively by the fur coat. Although, despite this, I wasn't too keen on the idea of trotting the streets naked, or going to work nude. Even so, this seemed a minor problem at best; far less than the crisis Ashley was making of it. Maybe the mare/female brain hadn't fully kicked in yet.

I recalled not minutes ago when Marcus was holding me upside down by my tail. I didn't try to shield myself, far too frustrated by my failed escape attempt. I was certain he wasn't looking or anything; or at least be better not be! Glancing at Marcus with concealed suspicion.

Ash was blushing slightly, “I can't believe how... how comfortable you are with this!” she fumed. “Are you sure you're a wo- ahem a mare?”

“Yes,” I muttered, feeling my ears droop. “I'm sure...” dropping my head after finishing the simple answer. She must have been referring to how not-subconscious I was being.

This time Ashley didn't look apologetic. For some reason, I felt like everyone was out to get me today. It sucked.

Marcus sat passively when Ashley looked to him for support. I saw him freeze, and then he held his palms up in indifference. Naturally this didn't matter for him, he was clothed and human still. Ashley and I gave him flat looks.

“Hey,” he said. “not my fault you two got turned into ponies. And it's not my fault that whoever, or whatever, did it didn't transform your wardrobes... ladies.” That twitch again.

“Arrugh!” I growled at Marcus as he grinned. “You're enjoying this way too much.”

“I know,” the human replied. Then added more seriously. “but for real, this isn't that major of a problem.”

Pricelessly, Ashley's jaw dropped as she now believed she was outnumbered on the issue. I stared at him, eyebrow cocked, waiting for him to continue.

“Sam, isn't your mom a practiced seamstress?” Marcus questioned.

Why didn't I think of that? “Yes she is!” I said, smile growing. “Maybe she can convert some of our old clothes for us, Ash!”

The idea didn't go as well as I had thought. Ashley seemed more unsure now than ever. “But, that would require ruining several outfits...” she bemoaned while nibbling on her hoof tip.

I groaned loudly, “It's either that, or stay naked.” another blush broke out across my face at that last statement, and Ashley shot me a look. I flailed my hooves defensively, “Not what I meant!!” trying to defuse that land mine.

“I am not sure I want to know what you meant,” she said, eyeballing me. Damn it, the blush grew more! I swear if my eye twitches anymore it's going to pop out of its socket! I knelt on the couch and buried my head in my hooves, feeling very doomed.

Marcus came to my rescue for once. “Sam's right. It's not like the local department store is going to have pony-sized shirts and jeans.” ever the voice of reason. Not to mention mine would require special additions due to certain feathery limbs.

I sighed, not wanting to think about visiting family this soon after the... what would this be called? It wasn't an accident, or at least I don't think it was.

“Yo-you mean go outside?” Ashley asked timidly. “Like, outside outside? I can't go in public like... like...” she gestured at her equine body, and I couldn't help but take advantage of the moment to look my crush over. Even as a pony she was so very cute.

Marcus stroked his chin in thought. Then, he gave a wicked smile. Oh boy...

“I know that look...” I said warily.

“Then you'll like this even more,” he looked at me and gestured at Ashley.

Her beautiful brown eyes narrowed in suspicion, “What?”

A sudden realization swept over me as I realized what he was thinking, and couldn't help but smirk. I turned to gaze at Ash, “Hope you haven't showered yet...”

Her eyes widened instantly at our manic grins. No Ash, you're not going to like it.

Comments

[DreamCloud]

This pleases me.

[StormyVenture]

Err, what? This is going to get more awkard, quickly?

[Final_Draft]

1685544 Yes... *rubs hooves together* soon... soon...

[Chrome Masquerade]

Jealous.

That's what I felt as I took in the spacious kitchen inside Ashley's house. It was at least three times larger than the small cooking space that my apartment offered. Glorious, plentiful counter space with regular sized oven and stove top (the dinky, electric one I had was painfully tiny), and the part that made me pea-green with envy was the island counter top that dominated the central space. I liked to cook, and my small studio made that challengingly difficult. Oh, if I had this kitchen at my disposal...

A snicker caught my attention.

Marcus was sitting in the living room, watching me as I gushed over the fabulous kitchen, a grin covering his face. It happened every time we came to visit Ashley here; I would always gawk over the kitchen, daydreaming of what I would do with it. Ashley would roll her eyes and Marcus would snicker at me – just like he was doing now. :

Normally I would playfully flick him the bird, but instead I just blushed.
::

I can't believe that i FINALLY get a chance to use this context! pinkiehappy:

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