Chapter 20: Day 20
Day 20
As recorded on my twenty-first day here in Ponyville.
Celestia’s sun was coming up. I was awake to enjoy it, for once. On a Saturday. How strange.
I knew, despite the mail having been delayed the day previous, that it would have to be held till Monday.
...not that I particularly care about the mail itself.
“Hey.”
The unexpected voice beside me startled me, nearly causing me to upset the folding chair I had set up near my door.
“Carrot Top. What are you doing stalking me so early in the morning?”
“Oh hush. Maybe I want to talk.”
“No ‘maybe’ about it. You could talk the wings off a manticore if you were so inclined.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You do that.”
An irked frown passed across her face, before she remembered why she was at my house, whatever reason that was. “You didn’t see Ditzy yesterday.”
“You really are stalking me, aren’t you?”
“I’m her neighbor. It doesn’t take a great deal of observance to notice that you didn’t show up, and she didn’t leave. But that’s not the point.”
“And what is the point?”
“If you are determined to ask her about you-know-who, then you should do it sooner rather than later.”
“Any specific reason?”
She sighed. “If what you do find out makes you back out... I want to be able to pick up the pieces.”
“Nopony is going to be picking up any pieces,” I nearly growled. “But... I think you’re right. We’re far enough along now... it ought to be brought up.”
“Well, whatever your reasons, thanks.” She looked around, and then up. “Better start thinking about how to ask.”
“What do you mean? There’s no mail this morning.”
She merely grinned and trotted off. “Exactly.”
Well that was incredibly helpful, I thought to myself sarcastically. While I didn’t give any credit to her reasons, at least we agreed on something– a something that was going to have to happen. I got off my chair, turning to go back into the house. Might as well get myself some-
Thud. The unmistakable sound of air being forced down by feathered wings.
Thwack. The distinct ring of a wingtip grazing the gutter.
Thump. The impact of a pegasus on the ground next to me.
“Ditzy? Are you okay? What are you doing here?”
“Yes I am!” She popped back up on four hooves, nuzzling my neck. “And I came because I missed you, of course!”
“Y’know it was one day, right?”
“...yes.”
“Well I don’t know about you, but it felt like a lot longer than that to me.”
Ditzy gave a grateful lick and hugged me. “Did you eat yet?”
“No. You?”
“No. Want to share a blueberry?”
“How do you sha-” Realization on how something as small as a blueberry is shared dawned on me. “You naughty mare you. Sure, let’s see what I have in the icebox.”
Ditzy tried and failed to smother her own giggle with an upraised hoof, before trotting inside.
“Actually, Ditzy, there’s something we need to talk about, before we go any farther...”
She stopped and looked at me with relatively focused eyes.
“...I probably should have brought it up sooner, but I didn’t want to put you through it.”
“Through what? What are you talking about?”
“I...” This is going to sting a bit, I realized. But it’s better to get it out in the open. “I’d like to know what happened before. Before me. Before Dinky.”
Her eyes drifted as the smile fell from her face.
“I know this probably is difficult to talk ab-”
“No, you’re right,” she interrupted. “You need to know. But not here. Not now... can you come over tonight?”
“Of course.” Even if I had had something on my schedule, it wouldn’t have mattered. This was not my highest priority; it was my only priority. I watched her trot away, wings drooping. Ah, Whooves. Who’d have thought the day when friends come before work would ever come. A grimmer part of me added, Or that you’d ever make those friends period.
To be honest, I wasn’t completely sure why she wanted to talk about it later, and at her house. It was a good thing, to some degree certainly; after all, it was in her comfort zone. Anything that would make it an easier revelation.
I decided I should go ahead and acquire some muffins as well. In the meantime, my poor timing choice in bringing up the issue meant that I didn’t have any breakfast. I was pretty sure even my celery was gone by now.
My cunning and evil mind was not about to settle for the bare minimum when it could help it, however. I mentally flipped through my resources, but came up short. The best I could come up with was Sugarcube corner, which I really didn’t have the mental stamina for at the time.
Oh well, I thought, starting off at a brisk trot to no place in particular. I wonder where Rarity would be at this hour. I’m sure she’ll be ecstatic to hear what happened.
I suddenly found myself wondering what she eats for breakfast. With a sharp curve, I altered course to the Carousel Boutique.
I rapped on the door. From inside, there was a muffled statement, quickly overridden by what was clearly Rainbow Dash’s voice... a slightly irritated Rainbow Dash if I were to guess.
“Hay no. If you leave me stuck here like a pin-up while you answer the door, I am so gone!”
The door opened, revealing an exasperated Rarity wearing her fashionable red sewing glasses, measuring tape around her neck, and a few strands of ribbon floating around her. She spat out some clothespins she had been holding in her mouth.
“Oh dry up, Rainbow Dash!” She turned to me. “Sorry about that. Ignore her. Would you like to come in?”
I followed her in, shutting the door behind me and wiping my hooves. We proceeded into her work room, where the most notable facet was the prismatic-maned pegasus up on the platform in a frilly work-in-progress dress. But, despite the garment, her mane was unkempt and she seemed a bit tired (no doubt lending to her mood).
“This is unbelievable.”
“Relax darling. Whooves isn’t going to spread your secret.”
“My secret? You’re the one that guilted me into this!”
“Oh please. You know full well that I only inconvenience you because you have a somewhat rare build, for Ponyville that is. Now shush so Whooves can tell us his story!” She looked over her glasses. “You do have news for me, yes?”
“Why can’t Fluttershy do it? She’s the sewing expert, right?” interrupted Rainbow.
“We had a bad experience. Now shut up and let Whooves talk.”
“Why? What does he–er, you–have to s-” She yelped as one of the pins Rarity was manipulating pricked her. “Hey! You did that on purpose!”
“And suppose I did?”
“Do it again and I’ll bleed all over your new dress,” replied the pegasus haughtily.
Rarity’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance, but she didn’t succumb to Rainbow’s threats. “Continue, Whooves.”
“Okaaay,” I said hesitantly, eyeing Rainbow Dash warily. She was ignoring the other ponies in the room. “So, remember Colgate, the mare at the hospital?”
“The suic- um, troubled unicorn? Yes.”
“Yeah well, she’s got a neighbor who runs a card joint-”
Rainbow Dash yelped as a pin stuck her again, presumably accidental this time.
“Whooves!” exclaimed Rarity. “Are you telling me that you took Aloe and Lotus to that decrepit old basement?”
Rainbow stopped sucking her injured hoof long enough to comment. “Oakback Slack’s? I’ve been there once. ‘Course that was back when Slack still owned it.”
Rarity shot an annoyed glance at Rainbow. “I suppose what’s done is done. Did it at least not go horribly wrong?”
“Rarity, my fine mare, have you no faith? Sure, they were a little apprehensive at first, but they were thoroughly enjoying themselves by the end... a little cider, a little music...”
“And... they enjoyed it?” Rarity asked, mouth agape.
Rainbow Dash stepped down from the platform. “Not everypony can be as classy as you, Rare. If that were the case, nopony would be one of us normal ponies to take care of real stuff.”
“I resent that, Rainbow Dash,” replied Rarity, stiffly. “You know very well that I can get my hooves dirty when need be.”
“Yeah, but like, not as well as it could be done.”
“And they say I’m the perfectionist...”
“At least I worry about the stuff that matters.”
I decided it was time to intervene. “Not to interrupt, but is this... normal?”
They didn’t even hear me.
“Don’t worry! They do this almost every week. It’s like their special day when they can yell and get out everything they’ve been holding in all week.”
I jumped at Pinkie Pie’s voice next to me. The front door was ajar, indicating she’d just come walking in. Pinkie looked from the arguing mares to me. “I just let it out all the time!”
I started to point out that that didn’t make sense; after all, if she was letting it out all the time then she’d be yelling angrily at ponies all the time. Instead, I just kept my mouth shut. It was Pinkie. Nopony will ever know how she works. Maybe she doesn’t get those feelings on a regular basis.
“So what are you doing out on this beeeautiful day?” asked Pinkie Pie as we walked–or bounced–away. I decided Rarity had the bare necessities of the information she needed for now.
“You’re not out looking for specialties in the spices again, are you?” prompted Pinkie.
“Uh, no. But I am looking for some muffins for tonight, if Sugarcube Corner would happen to have any in stock.”
“Oh sure! Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. These wouldn’t happen to be for a certain special somepony, would they?” she asked, a too-enthusiastic grin growing on her face.
“Yeah... I’m going over there tonight...”
“Yes? And...?”
“Well, see, I have this question I want to ask her and-”
“OMIGOSH! By Luna’s twinkling tiara I knew it!”
“No, Pinkie, it’s not like-”
“Why didn’t you tell me? This is going to be so much fun!” She froze suddenly, amidst her borderline physics-breaking antics. “I have sooo much planning to do!”
“Planning? For what?” The second I asked, I knew the answer and was sorry I asked.
“Well duh! For the...”
I covered my ears.
“...PAR-TY!”
I groaned. “Do you ever listen?”
“Not when I’m talking! What would be the point of that? I already know what I’m going to say.”
“Then listen now, ‘cause I’m talking. I like your parties, but I don’t want one for this.”
“Of course you do! You just don’t know it yet.”
“...it’s hopeless.”
“Naw, don’t say that... Wait, what is?”
“Pinkie I’m... I’m not marrying her.”
“What? You’re not? But... but...”
“I mean, that’s not what I am going to ask,” I quickly clarified. “Not that that’s out of the picture, but no that’s not what I meant... I mean, like, we’ve only known each other for a few weeks. Is it wrong that I’m even thinking about this? I... uh...”
Pinkie was grinning ear-to-ear, carefully balanced on the tips of her hooves.
“...what?”
“Aww, that’s so cute!” she said, bouncing now. “You love her!”
“I... I-”
I suddenly found a pink hoof shoved up my mouth. “No! Don’t say it. She should be the first pony to hear it... it’s so much more romantic that way!”
“Anyway... are we clear about the party tomorrow?”
“Sure! I’ll start getting the stuff ready.”
“But I thought-”
“Nono, don’t worry. I’ll come up with some other reason... everypony will just attribute it to me being me. Whatever that means.”
“Um, okay...”
“But remember, ya got to tell her!”
“Tell her that-”
“Yes!”
Pinkie trotted away, humming. I was pretty sure I knew what had transpired, but...
Well, there’ll be an invitation thingie I suppose.
I turned to go to Lucky’s (or Colgate’s, or Oakback Slack’s if you will), passing by the Boutique on the way. There wasn’t any yelling anymore. Pinkie was either right or very wrong.
“Hey!” The aforementioned mare took me by surprise with her sudden return. “This way to the muffins, genius!”
We wound our way to Sugarcube Corner, Pinkie waving greetings to passers-by. Mr. and Mrs. Cake seemed in good health, business running as usual. Ahead of me, Pinkie jumped up onto the counter, much to the interest (surprise just isn’t the right word for anypony who’s been around her for any length of time) of the Cakes and nearby customers.
“Everypony! I’m holding a party tomorrow to celebrate my new muffin recipe! You’re all invited!”
There was a moment of almost eerie silence before the ponies around began stealing glances at one another, one and then another hoof stomping on the floor. They all knew she threw the best parties, even if they didn’t always quite understand why she threw them when she did.
As she climbed down, I asked her quietly, “What new recipe?”
“The one I’m about to go come up with. Come back this afternoon to pick them up!”
“See you soon... I guess...”
I retreated from the inviting, oversized gingerbread house. A couple blocks later, my stomach rumbled, reminding me why I had been out in the first place. Not that I expected anything to go as expected since I moved to Ponyville–the place seemed to be a glaring beacon to all kinds of unfortunate occurrences. My stomach, however, was not pacified by this explanation.
I decided I would catch something at one of the stands; by this time, they were rather close. An apple, perhaps, I thought, catching sight of a certain blond-maned mare.
“Howdy-do, Whooves. What can Ah get for you?”
“Um... Macintosh will do.”
“He’s busy.”
“The apple.”
“O’ course he’s an Apple!”
I thumped my head on the counter. “Fine, a Red Delicious then.”
She retrieved the appropriate fruit, exchanging it for the required bits. “What seems to be going on?”
“Uh...” I looked back towards Pinkie’s residence. “You’ll probably be receiving an invitation sometime today.”
“Let me guess, a party?”
“What else?”
Applejack nodded and went on the next pony in line. Chewing contently, I wandered past town square when the wind shifted. My ear twitched involuntarily, picking up distinctive twangs of a stringed instrument. I trotted in that direction, curiously looking over the heads of the three or four ponies.
Lyra? Playing on the weekend?
The mint green unicorn was indeed cradling her namesake, eyes closed, plucking the golden strings in sequence. As she came to the cadence of the song, the few ponies around quickly dispersed, only one filly stomping her hooves before her mother hurried her along. Lyra opened her eyes, but everypony was now moving along on their business.
“Hi there, Whooves.”
“You work on weekends?”
“Oh, this? This isn’t work. I’m just relaxing. Bonbon is out today, so...”
“I guess I never really asked,” I said, thinking back, “but, what exactly do you do for work then?”
“It’s sort of on and off, more off lately.” She set her lyre down. “I teach musical theory, when it’s in the school’s budget. It’s not ideal, but my specific instrument isn’t in big demand for any ensembles, especially here in Ponyville.”
I sat next to her. Mid-day life in the center of the village went on.
“Apple?”
“...sure.”
She magically clove the fruit, taking a slice. The action struck a thought up in my head.
“I’m sure you get this often, but why do you play with your hooves?”
Lyra laughed. “I picked it up when I did my magic-free phase. Ponies thought it was cool... it’s not everyday you see a unicorn playing earth-pony style. I guess you could say it was for the publicity, although that seems to have worn off. A bit of habit now.”
“You were a real college hippie, weren’t you?”
“Just a little bit.”
“Bonbon went for it though, apparently.”
“What? I mean, yeah maybe,” she replied, pretending to be embarrassed. “She’s mellowed me out some, though.”
“Well, don’t get too mellow. You want to keep things exciting, right?”
Lyra blushed for real, looking quickly each way. She put her hoof on my chest and gave a little shove. “Hush, you! Go talk dirty to your own marefriend.”
“I will if you will,” I returned, starting to walk away. “Of course, the way I understand it, that might have consequences for you.”
Lyra gaped. “I thought she was joking when she said it was from you... are you serious?”
“Of course. And don’t act so shocked. You know you enjoy it.”
“S-shut up,” she stammered, before burying her face in her hooves. “Just leave. Please. Now.”
Despite her words, I could tell there was a smile wanting to break out under the facade. I left off though, merely smiling smugly and taking my time walking away.
Finding my way to Lucky’s and Colgate’s building at last, I buzzed their rooms. After a few minutes without a response, it became apparent they weren’t in. As I puzzled, an elderly stallion emerged, still yawning and stretching. That’s what it looked like anyway; it’s possible he just looks that way all the time.
“Excuse me good sir, but would you happen to know the whereabouts of Mr. Lucky and Miss Colgate?”
“Eh? What’s that now, sonny?”
I was tempted to grind my teeth at the last word, but repeated the question anyway.
“Oy, them two lovebirds were up bright ‘n’ early, headed off to the park I reckon, if my sea bearings still are straight on their axes.” He tried to lift a foreleg to shield his eyes from the sun as he looked up at it, his joint squeaking from the motion. I grunted my thanks and moved on.
‘Bright ‘n’ early,’ meaning eleven to noon.
Hunting through Ponyville’s (rather large, even by Canterlot standards) park, I crossed paths with the three little Crusaders. Fortunately, they seemed occupied with getting boomerang cutie marks today, content to merely wave upon catching sight of me.
I did eventually found one of my targets. Lucky was lounging on a bench, foreleg draped over the side and head nodding to an invisible beat. Upon my sitting down next to him, the gray stallion paused and removed his headset, previously hidden by his mane.
“Hello.”
“Hi.”
A bird chirped somewhere.
“Where’s Colgate?”
“I think she took your advice. Went to find Berry Punch.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
“No problem.”
I got up and walked away, Lucky returning to his tune. That is how conversations are supposed to go. An exchange of information–a feature typically only found in stallion-stallion conversations.
It shouldn’t surprise anypony, then, that most of my clients back in Canterlot were mares.
I kicked myself mentally, spotting a not-so-subtle couple rubbing noses in a different corner of the park. Whether you like it or not Whooves, I internally lectured myself, even stallions have emotions too. Not that they’re bad... they’re just not in the same dimension as the rest of all audible thoughts. In short, they are just plain bulky to express verbally.
All this thought about communication of emotions reminded me I had a date–or, at least a place to be. Ditzy and I hadn’t set a time, but I had gotten the gist of ‘after supper’ from what was said. That left still half an afternoon to burn, which seemed like no time at all and yet still too long all at once. I’m not going to try and describe it any further than that ‘cause you won’t know unless you’ve felt it, and if you’ve felt it then you already know.
My long and somewhat boring (even to me) self-dialog was interrupted by a faint boom and corresponding shudder in the ground. Everypony around stopped too, looking around in all directions. It happened again.
With a few seconds delay from each shot, the sky exploded with fireworks. Not really fireworks mind you, but they were propelled by a rocket, followed by a mild pop upon reaching a certain height. Eventually one exploded over the park, everypony turning their gaze upward to the heavens. The sky was graced with little pink cards, reigning down as the wind would have them. Lucky trotted up, with one in his hoof, curious if I knew what they were.
“Looks like an invitation to me.”
Pinkie Pie was literally assaulting Ponyville with artillery, except that the shells were leaflet bombs.
I suppose she couldn’t just use a megaphone or mail them... novelty is rather high on her priorities, seemingly.
“‘You (as in YOU, the one reading this, and everypony around you too) are invited to a really big party tomorrow, starting sunrise to sunset or until you collapse from exhaustion, whichever comes first. P.S. Oh yeah, the reason I’m doing this is ‘cause I have this cool new recipe to try if you bring something to eat. Don’t worry, I’m baking them myself so far which means they’ll actually be good baked goods,’” read Lucky aloud.
“Well, it’s definitely Pinkie.”
“I don’t even know her, and I know that.”
“Pinkie knows everypony in Ponyville.”
Lucky rolled his eyes. “Just because she has a freaky memory doesn’t mean she’s close enough to be what I’d call a friend. Acquaintance, maybe.”
“Fair enough.” I stowed an invitation and trotted back to my house, still getting reactionary flinches from the occasional mid-air detonations that continued over various parts of the village for the next ten minutes. Looking up, I found with relief that the sky had already been mostly cleared, indicating that there were no pegasi in flight at the moment. That could have been problematic.
Finding my way into my house, I soon realized that having boxes haphazardly piled in the halls and in the majority of the rooms is highly inconvenient, in that it restricts mobility overmuch. I had quite forgotten about the collateral mess, result from my escapade to retrieve my umbrella the previous day.
I huffed and began closing boxes and returning them to their original places. I knew I should be giving the items within permanent homes, but it was taking long enough as it was. In fact, by the time I finished, the day was progressing well into the afternoon–and high time I pick up my parcel for the evening.
At Sugarcube Corner, business seemed to be running as usual, despite Pinkie’s earlier announcement. Ponies seemed to realize that the first (well, not quite. I was getting the true first–granted smaller–batch, after all) tasting would be tomorrow at the town-wide fiesta.
“Is Miss P- ...er, Pinkie around?” I asked Mrs Cake. She nodded, indicating the direction of the kitchen with her hoof.
The kitchen was covered in cupcakes. Most had no icing, but they were still undeniably cupcakes. “Uh... Pinks?”
“Hi there, Whooves!” she replied enthusiastically, popping up from behind a counter. She was a shade or two lighter than usual, a consequence no doubt of the flour that still lingered in the air.
“Not to be too obvious here, but there are cupcakes everywhere.”
“Yeah, I know! All of my attempts at new muffins drifted that way. Well, most. I think I got these right!”
As it turned out, she did have one pan of muffins, which she placed on my back, forcing me to try to balance it.
“Do you mean to say that each of these is an attempt at a new muffin recipe?”
“Yep.”
“As in, each one is different?”
“Each batch, yes. By the way, what am I going to do with all of them?”
I grinned. “Mix them up.”
“What?”
“Mix them up, and frost them, all the same.”
“Hehe... that’s a good one, but why?”
“Don’t you see? You’ve already got more than enough for tomorrow. I don’t think anypony’s going to give too much notice to whether they’re cupcakes or muffins. To be honest, I think the majority of ponies prefer them, except maybe for breakfast.”
Pinkie tapped her chin in thought, once, twice, th- no, just twice. “Cool! But do I need to shoot off new invitations?”
“Pinkie, it’s not that big of a deal. Everypony comes because they like your parties, not just to gorge themselves. They shouldn’t, anyway.”
“Aww thanks Doc,” she replied, giving me a hug out of the blue. “What about your marefriend?”
“This more than covers us,” I said, sweeping the one tray of muffins into a sack. “And thanks for this. You didn’t have to.”
“Well duh! It was my idea after all.”
“Do you need help? With the icing, that is.”
“Naw, it’ll be a blast.” She giggled. “Speaking of which, you might want to leave or put these safety glasses on.”
I was out the door quickly and on my way home with the bag. Nearly back to my house, I passed Lyra and Bonbon’s house, the former of which popped open a window.
“Lasagna’s in the oven. You’re grilling the asparagus.”
“Sure thing. Let me grab something first.”
I darted into my house, depositing the muffins and retrieving the poor umbrella that had been deserted at the coffee shop. I would have given it to Lyra before in the park, but I didn’t have it with me then.
“Ah, so that’s where that went,” remarked the unicorn as I slipped it back on its peg by their door.
I didn’t burn the asparagus on the charcoal grill. Not more than you’re supposed to, leastways. The window was open in the kitchen, where I set the platter with the vegetables down. A slight breeze came through, clearing some of the heat that had built up during the height of the day.
“If you don’t mind my saying so... you look a bit distracted, Whooves,” Bonbon ventured, cutting out a slice of her lasagna.
“Hmm? Oh, sorry. I don’t mean to be.”
Bonbon sent a quick smirk towards Lyra. “Perhaps... perhaps you’re going to be talking to your marefriend about something? Something... more serious than usual?”
“Yeah...” I said, poking at my meal. I was a little too out of it to realize where she was going with it.
“You know, believe it or not, it was Lyra who proposed...”
I nearly gagged on a noodle, and not because of the food.
“Lyra looked at me skeptically. “Really Whooves, I would think even you could see I play that role in this relationship.”
I waved her off, croaking “continue” weakly before reaching for my glass of water.
Bonbon picked up her story again. “...of course, I saw it coming from a mile away-”
“Hey! That’s a bunch of horseapples.”
“Why, it wasn’t anything you could help, dear. In fact, it was almost cute, you were so nervous...”
“Oh come on!”
“You brought your lyre with us, the sun was setting, the lake shore reflecting the orange light from the dying rays...”
“I broke a string, that’s all I remember. And wasn’t it raining?”
“And you asked if I could think of anypony I wanted to spend the rest of my life with...”
“...and you started listing celebrities...”
“And we kissed as the sun went down, our wet manes twining together...”
“...then it got cold...”
“So we trotted happily back to the hotel.”
“Where we had s-”
“Lyra! Have you no restraint?”
“There were plenty of restraints last night, as I recall. Besides, we’re all grown-ups here.”
Bonbon dropped her fork. “I was trying to tell a romantic story, relevant to Whooves here.”
“And I was telling the real one.”
“Girls, girls. You’re both pretty,” I intervened. “But, actually, I should probably get going. I do have to go meet my mare, after all.”
Bonbon nodded enthusiastically and followed me to the door.
“Just have fun,” she whispered, winking as I exited. A few steps later, safely in my own house, I sank against the wall. I was suddenly really, really missing Ditzy right then. It was the mention of the lake... it had to have been.
I found it in myself to laugh. Lyra and Bonbon had to be one of the most interesting couples I’d ever met. Their personalities don’t exactly match, but aren’t polar opposites either. Neither is famous or sapping off the other. A true give and take. Roads of life crossed and they came together.
...not unlike somepony you know very, very well.
I told myself to shut up and retrieved the bag of muffins. There was only one cure for my condition right now, and I was more than happy to indulge in it. Outside, the sun was beginning to set. Supper was over, some ponies travelling back to their homes if they hadn’t eaten there.
The lights were on in Ditzy’s house when I trotted up, although I could detect no movement or noise coming from within. I entered, taking a moment to knock on the door as I passed through.
“Ditzy?”
She poked her head in from the living room. “Hello, Whooves.”
“Where’s Dinky?”
“Sparkler picked her up after her meeting. They’ll be out till morning.”
Her voice didn’t have its usual bubbly enthusiasm it almost always had, even on the dreariest of days. She knew what was coming, and wasn’t looking forward to it. I followed her wordlessly into the living room, taking note of her fuzzy pink socks that she had donned. The room itself was, as always, informal. It was lived in, unlike most living rooms. She flitted lightly over to the loveseat, folding her legs under her as she sat. I took the old armchair.
“Don’t say anything,” she said, taking the head of the conversation. “And don’t... don’t hug or touch me till you’re sure. Hear it all first.”
I could tell she was having trouble articulating, words cracking. She didn’t want to say what she said, I realized. Nevertheless, I complied, leaning back and waiting for her to continue.
“Dinky’s unicorn gene didn’t come directly from her father. He was an earth pony, like you.” Her crossed eyes seemed to be contemplating the stack of random books on the coffee table. “But unlike you, he wasn’t much of an intellectual. He wasn’t in contact with some of the higher-up ponies in the big-time Canterlot places. He was down to earth, and it wasn’t too hard to see him going for a mare like me. Plus, I knew he was a safe option; Carrot Top had known him her whole life, and I had known her for the majority of mine.
“We got married. Kept everything short and sweet. Two years later, we had Ditzy. When we went to put down the parents on the birth certificate, however, the nurse said that someone had flagged his name in the legal system... waiting for him to pop up on the grid again.”
Ditzy sank into the cushions, retreating slightly. “That was when we found out about Sparkler. He didn’t know, so naturally I didn’t know either...” She shook her head. “Anyway, we had a long, hard talk about it when we got home. I wasn’t about to break up with him over it... he was as shaken up about it as I was, and the poor stallion didn’t even know.”
“But, he still had to go sort some legal things out with Sparkler’s mom. It was she who had set up the legal flag. So, he got on the first airship heading out... and that was the last time I ever saw him.” She flipped open one of the books on the table, revealing it to be a sort of scrapbook. A large, faded clipping was pasted inside, titled 73 Lost at Sea in the Airship Akron’s Crash.
“...they hit bad weather, and only three survived. They never found his body.”
...buck. Buck buck buck BUCK! I wanted to kick myself for bringing this up.
“Please don’t tell Sparks. She’d blame herself as the cause.”
I nodded.
“...anyway, after that, I moved here to Ponyville, next door to Carrot Top, and that’s where I’ve been since.”
We sat in silence as the sun set, giving the lamps in the room more dominance over the lighting. Eventually, I raised a tentative hoof, wondering if it was alright to speak again. She focused, on me, waiting for me to say what I would.
“You said he knew Carrot Top his whole life? How? Just lucky friends?”
“Um, no, actually. He was her brother.”
Well, that explains why she’s a bit sensitive on that topic.
Upon lack of an immediate reply, Ditzy tried to spell it out clearer. “Oakback Slack, my husband, was her brother.”
My mind reeled. “Did you say Oakback Slack?”
“...yes. Do you know of him?”
“Let me guess... he owned a little place in the basement of an apartment building?”
Ditzy cocked her head. “How did you know?”
“A friend owns it now.” I was still trying to string all these events and ponies together in my mind. Another silence filled the room. The pegasus across from me noiselessly closed the scrapbook and stared at the cushion below her.
“Now what?” she asked, without looking up. The uncertainty and worry was evident in her unsteady tone, even to a thick-skulled stallion like me.
Now is the time for action, not words.
I stole over to the loveseat, climbing onto the empty side behind her. My hoof slid around her torso, under her forelegs, enveloping her in a full-bodied hug. Her breath quickened, but she still wouldn’t look at me.
“You’re... not going to leave?”
As if the hug wasn’t enough of an answer... I kissed her cheek in the affirmative. “Heavens no. Why would you think that?”
She turned her head, staring back into my eyes, our faces inches apart. “Aren’t you worried?”
“About what?”
“That things might not... might not turn out the way you anticipate?”
“Life would be really, really boring if they did.” I gave her another reassuring squeeze. “In fact, I’m kinda counting on it.”
Ditzy twisted under me onto her back, head resting on the armrest. Blushing, she asked, “Whooves, can I kiss you?”
I kissed her.
And although the sun had set, we didn’t fall asleep for a while. When we finally did, it was in loving embrace, forelegs, manes and tails as much as part of one as of the other. For my part, I also had a clearer idea of what I was, what my priorities were, and what the future could be like than I’d ever had before.
That night was a good night.
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I won't be at a computer the usual time I update (tomorrow), so I decided to throw this one on here now.
have a new cover.
And school's out
12816
Nope, never read that. It was supposed to be the Crazy Train one, in case that wasn't obvious.
Everyone else wondering about the actual psych aspect: I'm getting around to explaining that
Huzzah! A new chapter!
...Since when did the highlight of my summer day become a new chapter of pony fanfiction?
N'awwwwwwww!
Like the new cover image, by the way.
Ditzy is her own mother!?dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_Soarin_dayum.png
826679
Since Season 2 ended, I would imagine.
UPDATE!!!!!!
Two years later, we had Ditzy. I think you mean 'Dinky'.
Oh and I didn't quite understand why Ditzy would think Whooves would leave. What was the actual thing that happened?
It might just have been me reading this at 1am, but I didn't quite get it.
Good chapter though.
-Glassed
> That night was a good night.
I don't have enough "d'awws" to be worth the "d'aww" this chapter deserves.
Ok please tell me that the romance tag is between derpy and the doc i would fucking shit bricks. Ok PLEASE REPLY telling me this is a derpy romance.
I had so much bets on abuse from the father, and during this I figured SHE might have like fuckin killed him or something.
827166
Yes, yes it is.
....so Ditzy was worried Whooves would leave her, because her husband accidentally died?....I'm sorry, but that just doesn't make sense, Ditzy's mannerisms towards him in earlier chapters doesn't make sense, the way Carrot Top acted doesn't make sense (assuming Ditzy didn't date anyone between CT's brother, and Whooves), all in all, the back story to Ditzy and her husband just doesn't make sense.
BUT BESIDES THAT, another excellent chapter, definitely one of my favorite Doctor/Derpy ship fics
827510
Are you fucking lying to me? Because i really hope you arent derpy is the shit! And i probobly wont read it if its not true. This is sad but true.
Wow. Tragic airship crash. Did NOT see that coming. Honestly, I expected something darker...
Is it just me or is this fic brilliant?
As in Doctor with a Capital D "Brilliant!" brilliant.
826885
Carrot Top's Brother Ditzy's former husband had a kid he didn't know about from before his relationship with Ditzy. That kid is Sparkler. The Airship that Oakback Slack went on to go sort out legal issues with the mother of Sparkler crashed and he presumably died.
Ditzy is probably afraid that because she had had someone she loved before our good doctor that he wouldn't want to be with her.
Aha! Obscure historical reference! The USS Akron, one of only two airships commissioned by the navy, had a tragic crash caused by bad weather in 1933. Exactly 73 died. Someone knows their aeronautical history...
826620 well, it's not that I asked about the psych thing per se (although the definite lack of it is an interesting detail), it's just that I'm somewhat puzzled at where the bits are coming from. Whooves' doesn't mention getting paid in advance or making withdrawals at the bank or something like that.
My opinion, he sends weekly reports and writes every last bit he spent as "business expense" xD
826885
the hell, it is exactly 1am as i read your comment.
Poor Ditzy....have a hug.
crazy twist in the story, love it.
and the ending made my day much better
Wonderful. Can not get enough of this. It's been all I've read in my free time the last two days. More, please.
827531 I have to agree, none of that really makes sense.
I like this story a lot. I honestly didn't think i would like a story where the doctor wasn't the doctor; but I love him this way too. He reminds me so much of me when it comes to talking to my friends. I swear I have had that same conversation with one of my friends. (she is a lesbian.)
827563
Yes, it is a Derpy shipping, and it is a good one at that.
I am confused
How could anypony honestly think that kind of thing would turn him off of her? There was nothing really that scandalous but for the child out of wedlock(and even then, the father did not know), and it nopony was a t fault at all for the rest of it.
So why all the heartbreak?
isnt the doctor in ponyville for a reason, when was the last time he actually did his job
Minor edits... I guess not everypony got what I was trying to say in that one part and was confused or something because they didn't get it.
826620 took 2 days to read all 20 chapters in a row, and now I has a question!.... When did this go from, spying on crazy angry mares, to the love life of a doctor?
Husband dying in an airship crash... Not something I would leave someone(or Somepony if you get literal) for...
835498
Hell ya! There are not enought of these! I think i am going to throw a bid fucking party of one! Unless you would like to come. I dont mean that is a gay way you drink the drinks i will hire some strippers!