The Sour Grapes Chronicles

by The Incredible Werekitty

Hearth's Warming Hearts

Grapes woke up at her usual time, Tuesday morning, slowly getting up, stretching, and going around to see if Queenie had beaten her to her morning chores, again. The paths were still clear of snow but that wasn’t really telling. They could just STILL be clear.

She started down to the troughs and found them… empty. Not filled but vacant of the water that had been put into them yesterday. Queenie had, no doubt, already been by, but other than taking the ice from the troughs, she had done nothing else. That left her the empty troughs to refill so she had something to do. In fact nothing else had been done other than the missing ice. Sour Grapes was able to busy herself with all the little pre-breakfast chores she had been denied the other day before heading back to her home… and hearing a chipping sound from her barn.

Moving over to the door she carefully tugged at it, letting it slowly open from it’s own weight and what she saw took her breath away. Sunlight streamed in through the windows illuminating the interior in golden light, and yet fluffy snow gently fell from no discernable source. And there in the middle of it all were gorgeous statues carved from ice. She had never seen such detail in ice before, and the way the light refracted both off and within them made them shine like cold white fire. These were more than just the product of great talent, they were labors of love.

She saw animals and plants and even ponies rendered in the icy medium. In the middle of it all she saw Queenie working away at one block with her hooves, her impeccable trotters flashing with great motion, at the slab, sending up gouts of flaked ice into the air and transforming the block into a life-sized statue of Rainbow Dash. She moved forwards cautiously, through the mini-snowstorm and nearly tripped over the prone form of Thistledown. He sat there on the floor, wrapped-up in winter wear, half-covered in the faux-snow, surrounded by sketchbooks and drawing utensils… drawing away at the pad on the floor.

“Woah! Hey! Careful there, Sour Grapes. I know some stallions like it when mares walk all over them but I’m not that kinda guy.”

“You’d rather have a handsome stallion walk all over you, hm?” Grapes quipped, then looked back at Queenie. “That’s… amazing. And she does this for a hobby? Wait until Dash gets a load of that. She’d definitely pay bits for it.”

“We got a commission to do the whole set,” he said with a smile. “You know… all six members of her merry little band. Granted she had to come up with something ‘special’ for the Element-Bearers.”

He motioned over to the workbench next to him where some buckets sat on top. Grapes moved over and peered into them and found each tin receptacle was full of ice… Colored ice.

“My partner and I came up with the idea that their Elemental-barding should really stand out. Some of the colors double-up saving us time and effort for the gems.”

“... Okay, who commissioned Queenie for statues of those six?” Grapes asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. “I mean we only talked about this yesterday… And if you say Princess Celestia, I’m going to freak, because I haven’t sent the letter yet..”

“Well she did a piece the other day and showed it to some ponies in town and it got her a few jobs… including a big one from a certain Librarian… wink wink.”

“Twilight commissioned ice statues?” Grapes said sounding quite surprised. “How can she afford ice statues? Have you seen the prices that professional carvers charge in Canterlot? And Queenie could double that, because her statues are works of art.”

“I think Queenie just isn’t sure what to charge at this stage. She’s an unknown with good talent but they don’t know if she can keep a schedule. Of course that’s gonna change once she finishes her rendition of the Element-Bearers.”

“Oh you better believe that,” Grapes said with a nod. “Her work is better than a lot of Canterlot professionals.”

“I wanted her to do Rainbow Dash’s hair in all the colors but she insisted that would be overkill and we should stick to the Gems.”

“Hm… I think she’s right. Anyway sculpting each stripe would be very time and labor intensive,” Grapes observed.

“And be really messy and unflattering when it starts to melt. Ice is a fickle medium.” he smiled at Grapes and stood up. “She may or may not be aware of us right now. She’s in that ‘zone’ artists achieve when the muse pulls them in all the way. I hope you don’t mind us taking advantage of the barn’s space. We agreed that while doing this outside here would be nice, it’s better to do it where conditions can be controlled.”

“I’m all for controlled conditions. Especially when the art is perishable,” Grapes asserted with a nod.

“I was a little surprised when I got dragged into this. Well, dragged is a hard word but she came to me with this idea and asked if I could help her in the design phase. It’s hard to judge what can and cannot be done with ice, but as we work together I’m getting a better understanding. Sometimes a leg or a wing has to be adjusted so it takes the weight better but I think she and I are really starting to ‘get’ one another’s limitations and strengths for the first time.”

“So… you design the statues, and she carves them?” Grapes asked, tilting her head. “That actually sounds like a good plan. Do you guys need any supplies? The troughs seem to supply an adequate amount of ice, and you merge them easily. More troughs, maybe?”

“More troughs sound good actually. Maybe ask our neighbors if they want a convenient place to ‘lose’ the ice they find in theirs.”

“Could always ask AJ,” Grapes murmured, thoughtfully. “Anyway, I should get breakfast started. Any requests? Aside from something warm?”

He tugged at the fuzzy scarf around his neck and chuckled. “That obvious, huh? I don’t know how she does it. She must have liquid antifreeze for blood. Uh. Strong tea, and maybe fried tomato wedges then?”

“Fried tomato wedges?” Grapes asked. “Feelin’ a wee bit homesick, laddy?” she continued in a fair imitation of the brogue.

He laughed and dusted himself off, letting the flakes of ice settle to the floor.

“Well not me exactly. Good guess though. Mom and dad came from the Highlands and lowlands of S’coltland. Brought some of the food preparations with them. When I’m away I tend to get a little homesick for the food.”

“My parents visited Edenburro, one winter, before I was born, checking out the distilleries, and learning all they could about it. Not quite sure how one would do a wort with carrots, but considering that Applejack seems determined to outdo Golden Harvest, next year, even though carrots ARE her special talent… I think that may be my next wager,” Grapes said with a roll of her eyes.

“Could prove interesting. A twenty-four carrot hootch.”

“... It’ll take more than twenty-four carrots to make a proper wort,” Grapes said with a roll of her eyes at the pun. “Still, groan.”

“Hey, could be worth it’s weight in gold.”

“Could also be a nice gold color, too. Never can tell,” Grapes said with a shrug. “Can’t really make wine with citrus, because it would be too acidic, unless you find a way to cut it… So going into other methods may be a good idea, the way this keeps going. Coconut wine, and pineapple wine turned out pretty good, too. Mix them, and you have piña colada wine.”

“Oh! Nice. I like Piña Coladas… and being caught in the rain. But that’s just me,” Thistledown said cheerfully. Grapes just chuckled, as they headed into the bunkhouse. She made a beeline to the kitchen, and pulled some tomatoes out of the icebox and started cutting them into wedges.

“Fried tomato wedges. Anything else?” Grapes asked. “Don’t have any S’coltish oats, and I don’t know how to make scones,” Grapes queried.

“Scones aren’t that hard to make. They’re just biscuits without all the fancy in them.” he kicked off his boots and followed. “Any hot cereal will be fine right now. Heck, pour hot milk over some Elements of Flavourosity and I’d probably be fine with that right now.”

“We don’t have any Elements of Flavourosity. I’m not going to be bringing air-puffed boxed sugar into this house any time soon. Actually, I think I said I’d make cinnamon rolls, yesterday. I’ll get on that,” Grapes said, with a nod, pulling out the ingredients.

“Sounds good to me.” He agreed putting his coat on the rack. “I’m amazed at her energy. It’s astonishing. Like a mare driven.”

“She’s a workaholic of the first order,” Grapes chuckled. “She just didn’t feel right about just… taking a vacation, after that avalanche that happened back at her home.”

“Oh yeah… I saw the news reel the other day. Wow. I give her a few days to find a slower pace though. Something she can keep up over a long time rather than just hammering away with the energy of a madmare.”

“Well, hopefully she won’t be too tired for tonight’s festivities,” Grapes observed. “Being hauled off to the karaoke bar, with you lot. Should be interesting.”

“You were always welcome to join, we just thought you might not care to mingle. You know… you see so much of us already, you deserve some ‘personal time’ too.”

“Well yeah, but you guys are friends, too. And I wasn’t about to intrude on your personal time, either,” Grapes replied, as she carefully rolled up the dough. “After all, you see, and hear, so much of me, too, any given day…”

“Hopefully you’ll have fun one way or the other. Everypony has a favorite they just HAVE to sing at some point. Firestormer does a great, ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’. Summer Squall does great justice to the song ‘I’m Not As Good As I Once Was’. And Earshot has been known to do a few Operatic numbers… and is pretty darn good at it.”

“And… the proprietor just lets an underage colt into a bar?” Grapes asked, with a raised eyebrow.

Thistledown stared at her for a moment then began to laugh. “OH! Oh, that DOES sound bad, doesn’t it? No, no, no. He never actually goes IN. Berry Punch had a nice little patio built after the first few times he showed up and sang along as he waited outside. He tends to draw a little crowd when he does, so I guess it’s clever advertising in action. Right now there’s a big heater for him too so he’s not uncomfortable.”

“That was thoughtful of her,” Grapes observed.

“As long as the little guy’s ok with it, I’m ok with it. She also gives him free refills on hot cocoa so that takes the sting out of not being at his friend’s sides. Funny thing… he said that bars were an unknown thing where he comes from. You know… saving one building in town for a place to drink alcohol and getting salted.”

“Well… It’s.. that, yes… Well… It’s not just a single building in town that’s for drinking alcohol and getting salted. It’s a specific building in town that’s for drinking alcohol and getting salted in a social setting… Huh. I guess I’ll have to explain the concept to him,” Grapes said thoughtfully.

“Well it’s not like he doesn’t know what alcohol is. He’s mentioned some of the stuff from his home on occasion… they got one made from some kind of mushroom if you can believe it. Maybe they’re such a close-knit community they never needed a central ‘watering hole’. You know, everypony has a bottle in the… house? Shack? Cave? ...Home and so they don’t need to go far to share.”

“I know, but… It’s… The idea is that it’s not drinking at home. Kind of a way to get out, and meet new ponies. Maybe even be a neutral ground to meet, you know? This way you’re not in somepony’s house,” Grapes observed. “Wow, the concept’s harder to explain than I thought. Less formal than a meeting hall, more adult than a place where foals would gather to play games, but there can be games, and karaoke and other activities, and even food. Heck, bar food even has its own category.”

Sour Grapes finished her breakfast and did some puttering around the house. Mainly going into her own attic to drag out the Hearth’s Warming decorations. It was always a chore in the past but for some reason it wasn’t so bad this time around. Maybe because she wanted Earshot to see the whole thing up close rather than… what? Through windows at night? She would have to ask him a little more about how his kin interacted with these mysterious ‘Villagers’. She came back down, carrying the box, carefully, and saw Earshot coming back from Ponyville, saddlebag full of toothbrushes. Toothbrushes?

"Hey, Earshot. Where'd you get all the toothbrushes from?" Grapes asked, going out onto her porch to greet the Night Pony.

"The nice mare with the blue and white mane gave them to me while I was in town earlier. I went there to see if I had any mail in… couldn’t wait," Earshot replied

"Oh. So you met Minuette, huh?" Grapes asked.

"Yeah. That’s her name. Minuette. She's real nice. We bumped into one another on the street and got all excited when I smiled. She's got this neat office all full of shiny metal and ceramic things with a big chair and stuff that smells and tastes like peppermint."

"... Well, she's a dentist."

"That's what she called it. A healer of teeth. She was so interested in mine. She says they were very unusual. Both meat-eater and plant-eater teeth in one mouth. She was also surprised I don't use a toothbrush,” the night pony observed.

"Well yeah... she would," Grapes quipped, casually.

"Yeah. I mean the idea of someone who watches out for the health of your teeth alone is kinda new to me. Especially one with so many tools to work with. Usually when a tooth goes bad for a Night Pony we just get rid of it. Red Chisel is actually pretty good at that sort of thing... But Miss Minuette kinda cringed when I told her about that."

"Ah Yeah," Grapes said, cringing herself. “I can imagine why. That’s very… old school, so to speak.”

“Well it’s not like he had to do it a lot. His real job is a wood smith. Very good at carving wood and other similar things. But he’s very precise and trusted by everypony to only hit that one tooth you want gone.”

“Well that’s good,” Grapes said, doing a full-body cringe, still. “But the whole point of dentistry is… well to keep teeth healthy, and make extraction when needed as painless as possible.”

“That’s how she explained it. Then she asked me that if I had never owned a toothbrush before, how I could have kept my teeth so clean. To be honest we’ve FOUND toothbrushes in the heap before.. but never knew they were meant for cleaning teeth. We thought they were small cleaning brushes for scrubbing small things. Probably would have been kinda gross if we put things from somepony else’s mouth into ours, huh?” Earshot said, cheerfully.

“Probably. Unless you, like, boiled the heck out of them first to sterilize them,” Grapes said, rubbing a hoof against her chin.

“Well, thinking about why my teeth were as clean as they are, I guess it’s probably because we use Gnawlings.”

“What’s a ‘gnawling’?”

“Oh. It’s a short length of nice thick branch with really chewy bark on it. You know, the kind that you can just sink your teeth into and gnaw at for hours if you feel like it. It’s a very satisfying feeling.”

“So… you gnawed pine branches,” Grapes asked, with a raised eyebrow. “Fascinating.”

“Yeah. Back home there’s this Sweet-bristle Pine that really left your mouth all tingly and nice-smelling. Mom and dad would always have a Gnawling of it waiting for me when I came home for the winter.” He smiled wistfully for a moment before giggling. “Guess toothbrushes are why I haven’t seen Gnawlings for sale out here.”

“You’re right. Wonder how your folks would like toothbrushes?” Grapes asked thoughtfully.

"I don’t know, but she was impressed by me not having a lot of something she called 'tartar' on my teeth. Or them being in such good shape for not being properly introduced to a toothbrush before. We talked a bit and she figured out that it had to do a lot with my diet and gnawing habits. Also, we don’t have sugar, back home. And she showed me tooth floss and how to properly use it so I don't injure my gums. It's a wonder nopony thought to show me this stuff before."

"Well your teeth didn't look horrible,” Grapes said, with a shrug. “So I guess everypony assumed you were taking good care of them.”

"Yeah. She even showed me what my teeth look like on the inside with this neat camera. Did she ever do that for you?" Earshot inquired.

"Yes. Right before I had to have a cavity filled," Grapes replied.

"She was very nice too. Did you know she was once a guard at the palace?"

"Really? I didn’t know that,” Grapes mused.

"Oh yeah. You know that big wall of pictures and stuff on her wall? I saw a picture of her in armor at the main gate. She told me she joined because she needed the bits to put her through dental school. She was pretty good at it, too. She became a Colonel for her work at the main gate. Guess that's why the note at the bottom says ‘Col. Gate’,” Earshot continued, merrily. Grapes raised an eyebrow.

“So that’s how she came to be called ‘Colgate’,” Grapes observed. “I thought it was after the toothpaste brand…”

“Oh, while I was down in town I got you today’s paper. No sense in it being a trip just for me. I didn’t get anything from home, but somepony sent me a package.” He pulled out a small box wrapped up in what looked to Grapes to be Vellum and tied with a silver string. The hoofwriting on it was elegant in it’s preciseness. Each word a perfectly formed and almost supernaturally legible series of letters in a dark red ink. He began to pluck at the knot with hooves and teeth. “I wonder who it’s from.”

“I wonder who that could be from?” Grapes asked, obviously curious.

The silver knot fell loose and the young Night Pony undid the wrapping to reveal a small box made of a wood so red it looked black, save where the sunlight bounced off of it. He examined it a moment before finding a hidden latch and opening it. Inside was a sheet of paper covering something below and above that a folded letter bearing a green wax seal that displayed a cloak and dagger cutie mark. Earshot opened the letter and read aloud.

“Young Earshot. It is my understanding that this year you have chosen to enjoy Hearth’s Warming in the company of the Daylight Ponies rather than return to your kin in parts unknown. I wish you good times during our most joyous of holidays and that you return to your homeland a glowing report of it all. Enclosed is my own contribution to your grand experiment. I know how much you enjoy these and so consider this the official Hearth’s Warming Gift to you from the throne and those of us who serve it. Happy Hearth’s Warming to you Earshot.

As ever, Royal Vizier Guaranty.”

“That was very nice of him. I wonder what he sent?” Earshot said after a moment of letting it all sink in. He lifted the paper below it and within were a series of paper compartments, each occupied by a golden, gleaming insect. It took Sour grapes a moment to realise what kind, but Earshot beat her to it. “Oh WOW! Honeyed Crickets! He remembered!”

“Heh. That’s Guaranty for you,” Grapes chuckled. “Nice of him to remember. I should send him a card.”

“Yeah. I should too. Not a lot of ponies say anything but bad stuff about him but he didn’t seem all that bad when the Storm Riders make their yearly report to him,” Earshot said putting the lid back on the box. “The second time I saw him Honeyed Crickets were added to the buffet table. He seemed to be watching me as I ate them.”

“His role,” Grapes said very quietly, “is to be hated. And you can’t tell anypony about that. It’s a state secret.”

“To be hated? But why? He’s the Princess’ helper. Shouldn’t he be better at his job if he was liked? Wouldn’t he…” Earshot trailed off, lost in thought for a moment. “He makes her look better. Doesn’t he?”

“That’s right. She needs to be seen as a kind, benevolent ruler, but sometimes, for the greater good, she has to make a decision that has long-term benefits, but short-term consequences,” Grapes said, quietly, still keeping this on the down low. “So Guaranty’s job is to take the blame for the short-term consequences.”

“That’s so sad. He must love her very much to do that.”

“Her, and all of Equestria. But then he has a lot of fun doing his job, so he does have benefits. Still will send him a card, and let him know one of his friends is pulling for him,” Grapes murmured with a smile.

“I’ll send him a card too. He should get nice cards from ponies too. And he was nice enough to send me my favorite snack.” The rest of the passed quietly, Grapes herself, actually taking the time to start writing up her response to her play-by-mail O&O game. She then began yet another friendship letter to Princess Celestia, catching her up on Earshot’s pals, going to the movies, the care package she’s sending to Earshot’s folks. She was just getting to the part about being invited to karaoke night when she realized she was going to be late. Grapes got up, quickly dressed in her cold weather duds, and trotted out the door.

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Grapes walked down the street, the hoof-deep snow not making any effect on her legs through her nice warm boots. She didn’t often come into town on a winter evening, now she was wondering why. It was so beautiful with the lights and decorations against the snow. It was all so beautiful and surprisingly quiet at this time of night. Then again it was a weeknight.

Despite being a producer of wine, she had never gone to Berry Punch’s tavern before. Heck, she didn’t even KNOW she had a tavern. Probably why there were so many rumors about her being a drunk was floating about. She hoped that she didn’t make a habit out of over-drinking. If there was one thing she definitely knew it was that you never give the fox the keys to the henhouse.

She wandered down a sidestreet or two she normally didn’t and found a rather inviting looking two-story building with a patio and a sign that said simply “Hoofed and Plowed”. She smirked at the slang terms for drunkenness and the pony-themed pun and as she approached she could hear music playing. She must be in the right place. Looking up on the patio she saw Earshot seated at a colt-sized table made from a functioning Charcoal heater. He had the most passive look on his face she could imagine, then she noticed that across the creatively constructed table was another young pony. Around the same age as him the neon green pegasus sat with his face bearing a more aggressive expression. Where Earshot was dressed in a nice white coat and a scarlet scarf, this other pony was… Uh oh.

Grapes recognised the shade of blue on the parka that Earshot’s drinking partner was wearing… and more importantly she recognised the yellow lightning bolt pattern it was trimmed with. Earshot sipped at his mug of what Grapes hoped was hot cocoa and smiled enigmatically.

“Heya Miss Grapes,” he said without averting his gaze from the pint-sized Wonderbolt. “Glad you could make it.”

“Sorry about being late. Who’s this?” Grapes asked, with obvious apprehension.

“Oh this is Outside Loop. He came with some friends not long ago. Like with me he can’t go in either.”

“Somepony’s gotta keep an eye on you, shrimp.”

“He’s what Queenie calls, ‘interesting company’. He’s supposed to be the Wonderbolt’s ‘mascot’. He can’t be a full Wonderbolt for the same reason he can’t go into the tavern.”

“Hey I AM a Wonderbolt!” Outside Loop retorted.

“Do you perform with them?” Earshot asked.

“No.”

“Do you practice with them?”

“Well, no.”

“What do you do?”

“I… cheer them on. AND I bring them water and snacks when they need it.”

“Ah. Not exactly like how I fly with the Storm Riders, Buck Storms at their side and use my ability to see the world in zero visibility situations to keep them alive, is it?” Earshot observed.

“Aw shaddap, you freak of nature.”

“Excuse me, you little punk, but he’s just as pony as you are. Obviously he’s even more so, since he’s still remembering his manners,” Grapes quipped.

“Thank you, Miss Grapes. The other Storm-Riders have had time to do a few songs before the Wonderbolts arrived. I think they like one another less than my new friend likes me.” Earshot said. It was curious how calm and mature he was sounding at this time. Normally he went out of his way to be likable but here, he was trying hard to be grown-up. From inside of the tavern there was a sound like heavy canvass being struck with a baseball bat causing Earshot to raise an eyebrow and make a hissing sound. “That was mister Blue Streak taking a swing at Mister Squall… not a good thing.”

“GIVE THEM BLOOD AND THUNDER, ‘RIDERS!”

“WONDERBOLTS! ATTACK!”

From the noises within Sour Grapes was certain the tavern should be rocking back and forth like something from a comedic film. She was about to go in when Outside Loop stood up and she realised what was on his little brain.

“You hear that? My team needs me! I’m gonna go in there and you ain’t gonna stop me! You hear? I’ve coughed up scarier things than you! I am NOT scared of you!”

She watched the two colts looking at one another but the most surprising thing happened. Earshot didn’t so much as twitch an ear. He just placidly looked at the other colt and spoke softly.

“Is that so?”

Outside Loop’s face went white and he slowly sank back into his seat.

“Y-Yeah. So I’m going… right after I finish my Hot Cocoa.”

“If that is what you wish.”

“It is.”

“It’s all right if you want to go in, Miss Grapes. We’re going to finish our Hot Cocoa, together. Like Grown-up ponies would,” Earshot said with a nod.

“Well I’d better go in, before they decide to slaughter one another,” Grapes uttered, nosing open the door, and expecting the worst.

Even expecting the worst she was unprepared for this. She had seen bar fights in movies and read about them in books before but this was unlike them all. The analytical part of her brain slowed the world down, taking it all in and sorting it out. Instead of one big slugfest it was a series of segmented battles between individuals, each with a different ‘look’ to it. She could see the very personalities of the ponies she had come to know and love as they fought this batch of strangers. Firestormer attacked with a series of short jabs and quick rabbit punches, using his speed to power through his opponent's defences. Sirocco seemed to dance in a twirling motion between the tables, deftly striking with wide arching swings of legs and tail. Queenie on the other hoof seemed to slide backwards in short motions, staying just out of reach of her foe’s attempts, moving along one wall until there was a short sideways motion where the attacker was between her and the wall… then with a brutal shove, she brought her whole body forwards, body-checking her into the boards with the ruthless efficiency of a hockey player (figures). It took Grapes a moment to locate Stormfront, she couldn’t see him on the floor where several Wonderbolts had dog-piled him… it was only when his powerful tornado-bucking wings ‘exploded’ outwards sending them into the air did she realise what had happened. Summer Squall was in the middle of it all, a bright cobalt blue pegasi in wonderbolts colors was fighting with him… although fighting was a charitable word for it. In spite of his youth, and vitality, strength and speed, the Wonderbolt she assumed was ‘Blue Streak’ was getting his clock cleaned. Every punch countered, every opening painfully exploited. Sour Grapes had seen ponies playing chess in the park, and saw masters who were able to play entire games measured in heartbeats because they could think twelve or more moves in advance. This reminded her of one of those Chess Masters fighting a rank novice.

“Come on Lad! I’m probably three times your age! You started this, show me some backbone!”

Grapes could see over by the bar, Berry Punch and a server calmly cleaning glasses while a yellow pegasus in mirrorshades watched from her stool along with a baby blue pegasus mare, and a light blue pegasus stallion. Honestly, he was the one who was looking concerned. The band played on, safely behind what looked like a chicken wire cage that had descended from the ceiling.

She let her mind have those moments it wanted to size the entire scene up, then she let her common sense dictate to her sense of action on what to do about it all. Then she decided common sense could take a back seat. This was going to throw her out of whack for a few days, but… Something needed to be done.

“All right,” Grapes uttered, her golden magic lighting up the bar, as she allowed her balance to teeter dangerously close to “fully unicorn.” As her magic clamped down on the brawl, the two groups of ponies suddenly ceased their fighting while they were forcibly hauled into mid-air.

“You are stopping this RIGHT NOW!” This wasn’t her dangerously sweet voice. This was full on “I am PISSED” voice, something that she rarely used. The band went silent at hearing her shout, Berry gulped, and ducked down a little behind the bar. There was a stunned silence from most of the pegasi in the bar as they dangled in her magical grasp like kittens picked up by their mother.

"I think... it's best we take her advice to heart, lads and lasses," Squall said quietly.

“Wow… Don’t wanna see that again…” Berry muttered, eyes wide. “Sour Grapes is scary when she’s pissed off…”

“Well… that was effective,” the fiery colored pegasus mare uttered, lowering her mirror shades.

“So much for the ‘teachable moment’ for the rookies, Spitfire,” quipped the baby blue pegasus.

“Oh, I don’t know. Being hauled into the air by a pissed off unicorn can be pretty teachable, Fleetfoot,” the first mare replied.

“I am going to put you all down, and then you had better head to your respective homes, and sleep it the hay off, or else I’ll buck all of your flanks so hard, you’ll be walking on your forehooves for a week. Get me?!” Grapes growled. The dangling pegasi all gulped at that statement, but nothing else was said.

The sound of the door being swung forcefully open broke the silence followed by a sharp "What's going on here?" She turned her head to see five of Celestia's Royal Guard standing there, their golden armor gleaming in the warm light of the tavern. The commander, a dark gray pegasus looked at the room with a steely and yet... surprised gaze. Grapes then looked around, broken furniture, shattered bottles with their drinks were all over the place, bruised and battered ponies hung helplessly in her magical field... and she... she was in the middle of it all unharmed and looking rather... suspicious.

"Ahem... Well. I was stopping a bar fight, before it evolved into a full-on brawl," Grapes explained. “Berry is a friend of my mother’s, and I’m sure she’d prefer to keep the damages, especially from those who are in my employ spring through fall, to a minimum.”

The commander slowly surveyed the room again, taking it all in and obviously not jumping to any conclusions before speaking. "Can anypony back up your claims, Ma'am?" Berry raised a hoof.

“I was here, the whole time, Iron Wing. All she did was lift the pegasi into the air to keep them from continuing their fight.”

“We can too,” Spitfire said, raising a hoof, along with her two cohorts. “And the Wonderbolts will be reimbursing Miss Punch for all damages, since it was our rookies that started the fight.”

“And why, pray tell, did you not stop the fight, Captain Spitfire?” Iron Wing asked.

“Figured the rookies needed a lesson on when NOT to start a fight. These other ponies looked like they could handle themselves and I figured getting their flanks kicked by them would bring that lesson home, for the rookies.” Spitfire said with a smirk. Grapes just rolled her eyes.

"Aye, I can vouch for her, too," said a rather abashed Summer Squall from his place in mid air. "Things were said, broadsides exchanged but she was the one putting her hoof down."

"I see. Very well then. When we take the rest of the ponies in to dry out, I'll be needing some statements from you, Miss," he said evenly before there was a snort from Blue Streak.

"What for? She doesn't get us Pegasi, she won't understand our reasons. She's just another clay-brained Dust-licker."

The pain in Sour Grapes’ head was sharp and sudden as Stormfront broke free of her magical grip and slammed Blue Streak against the wall with a ferocity she had never seen in him before. During the fight he had looked more determined than angry, but this was like someone filled his veins with tiger's blood. His eyes bored into the Wonderbolt with a fury so great that didn't care he was doing this in front of the Princess' guards.

"You TAKE THAT BACK! Take it back or I swear to the sun, the moon and the stars above I WILL pluck you bald and leave you in the highest tree in the Everfree forest!"

The others fell to the floor with a thud, and Grapes curled into a ball, rubbing her horn. "Ooooow...."

"Stormfront! Stand down!" shouted Summer Squall. The grey pegasus hesitated but stared into Bluestreak's frightened eyes before letting him drop and turning to see Grapes.

"Oh no... I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to..." Stormfront uttered, looking at Grapes with the utmost concern.

"It's ok lad. Just... give her some breathing space. Commander, we'll come quietly if you..."

"Understood. Sargent, see to the young mare. The rest of you, line up, single file. On the principal of the thing we're pulling out restraints. Any complaints?" Neither Storm Riders nor Wonderbolts disagreed and as a guard assisted Grapes to a chair, a unicorn guard restrained all the wings on the brawlers. Grapes groaned, holding her head.

"Will you be all right ma'am?” the sergeant asked, with obvious concern.

"I'm not used to doing that. I'm usually balanced between earth sense, and unicorn magic... Ow... And he broke free..." Grapes uttered.

"Yeah... Must've been a lot of backlash there. Will you need a doctor?" the sergeant asked, a unicorn himself.

Berry came over, and gently put an ice pack on Grapes’ head. "I'll make sure she gets home," she said before looking over at Spitfire. "I'm sure I'll have help too."

Spitfire, in the meantime, was glaring at Blue Streak. “That was out of line, Rookie,” she said, sounding angry, then turned to Grapes with a frown. The groups were led out of the doorway and Grapes could see Squall turn to Earshot as he walked past the two foals who sat at the heater out on the patio.

"One moment officers. Now Lad... I don't want you to think what we just did was normal or in any way good and decent," Squall started.

"I understand," was the reply, but Grapes could see the small smile of pride on the Night Pony's muzzle. She at first thought 'Foals', then she realised that out of two entire teams of ponies, he was the only one who kept his own counterpart in line without resorting to violence.

“I apologize for Blue Streak’s rather… crass comment,” Spitfire said shaking her head. “I thought he’d gotten over that whole ‘Down-Looker’ thing, when he went through the Academy.”

“I’ve been called worse,” Grapes uttered with a pained smile. “After being called a ‘dirt fornicating spawn of a clod’, everything else just sounds so… juvenile.” This caused dropped jaws around the room.

“Who in the HAY would call you that?!” The sergeant asked, sounding stunned.

“Prince Blueblood,” Grapes replied.

Everypony blinked upon hearing that name, and moments later they all replied with a very sympathetic, "Oh, him," and shook their heads slightly. Sadly, nopony was surprised at that.

In the meantime Berry had gone back behind the counter, and came back with a cup. “Drink it quick. It’s got more than a couple of drops of willowbark extract in it,” the magenta mare uttered. Grapes took it and slugged it quick, making a face at the taste.

“You’d think they’d make willowbark extract taste better,” she uttered.

“And I thought pegasi had nasty names they called other tribes,” Fleetfoot uttered quietly. “Anyway, we need to collect Outside Loop, and head back to the motel.”

“I’ll make sure… Uh… what’s your name, anyway?” Spitfire asked, looking at Grapes.

“Sour Grapes, Captain Spitfire,” came the reply.

“Nice to meet you,” Spitfire said with a nod. “Uh… those were really the Storm Riders, huh?”

“Yes, Captain, they really were the Storm Riders,” Grapes replied, as the fiery yellow pegasus helped her to her hooves. Soarin and Fleetfoot let out low whistles at that information, and followed them out. The two blue pegasi collected the mascot, and sent him off to the one hotel in Ponyville while they escorted Grapes to her home.

“Heading home, Earshot,” Grapes said, still sounding pained. “This is Captain Spitfire. Apparently she thinks bar brawls are educational.”

“Lesson being don’t piss off unicorns named Sour Grapes,” Spitfire said jokingly. “But seriously, those two were trying to take credit for the Storm Riders’ work. Never mind they had their flanks saved by them. Figured they could use a lesson in humility.”

“And you planned on reimbursing Berry Punch for the damages,” Grapes added.

“Sure did. Figured it’d be worth it, especially when most of it will come out of Blue Streak’s salary,” Spitfire said with a sage nod.

“In a way it makes sense… In another way, I really want to kick your flank so hard you’re walking on your forehooves for two weeks. But that’s just the headache talking,” Grapes uttered.

“Ah.. heh… Let’s get you two home,” Spitfire said nervously.

In the big picture Grapes was glad that “The Mascot” was sent to the hotel on his own. Without him around, Earshot relaxed from his ‘grown-up’ act and was back to his usual likeable colt-self. She wanted the Wonderbolts to see him the way everyone else in Ponyville did: just another kind of pony.

“Will you be okay miss Grapes?” he began. “I swear I could almost hear your magic snapping in there.”

“Stormfront broke free of my levitation,” Grapes uttered. “Got a bit of backlash from it, and I need to reassert my balance. I’m dangerously close to losing my earth sense.”

“Well if you need me remember I’m only at the bunkhouse. I’ll hear you if you call.”

“Wait… You have a speaking tube set up on your farm?” Soarin asked Grapes in surprise.

“No, his hearing is just that good,” Grapes replied. They soon reached the farm.

“So how DID you keep Outside Loop from coming… inside during the fight? He’s got a lot of spunk. It’s not easy to keep him from reacting in an extreme to things,” Spitfire asked.

“Easy… I didn’t move,” Earshot replied.

“I don’t understand.”

“To me, Loop looked like the kind of pony that lives in constant motion. I figured that the only thing that could scare him into staying put was a complete LACK of motion. He just didn’t have a clue how to handle somepony who wasn’t doing anything obvious.”

Spitfire stared at Earshot a moment then pressed her hoof to the bridge of her muzzle. That sounded a LOT like a certain hepta chromatic-maned pegasus mare.

“Why you little bugger. I never would have thought of that… At least now I know how to handle him in the future.”

“Welcome to Grapevine Hills. Sorry I’m not up to giving you two the tour,” Grapes uttered.

“Gotcha. I’ll probably see you sometime tomorrow, when we bail out or respective teams,” Spitfire said with a nod. “About noonish?”

“Sounds good,” Grapes said with a smirk. “May feel a bit more like showing you around, then, too. Don’t get many celebrity guests.”

“Maybe Mister Squall will even give Blue Streak back his teeth instead of adding them to his collection,” Earshot said with a mischievous smile.

“Eh, he’s earned ‘em,” Spitfire said waving a hoof, and with a final wave they Wonderbolts left. Grapes then did something that confused Earshot. She went into the Bunkhouse.

“You don’t have to walk me inside, Miss Grapes. I’m pretty good and you need your rest more than me right now.”

“I’m not,” Grapes said, from the basement stairs, before she went down. Earshot followed her, and found her sitting in the unfinished part of the basement, that was still raw earth, and support beams. “Want to know what I’m doing? I’ll tell you.” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, and seemed to be meditating, shifting her hooves into the clean earth of the excavated basement.

Earshot watched for a moment then closed his eyes for a better ‘look’ at what she was doing.

“It is through the hooves, that an Earth Pony’s power flows,” Grapes said, meditatively. “It is how the Earth Pony connects to the earth, and its strength. It’s through their hooves that they are connected to the flow of the seasons, the rhythm of life… the Heart of the World.” Then, as if it was being conducted through Grapes’ very bone and blood, Earshot heard it.

Thump thump. For one brief moment he could hear… a heartbeat. Earshot opened his eyes, and saw Grapes smiling. Apparently she had reconnected to her Earth Pony half.

“I heard it! For a moment it was there… It was like an undertone. It sounded like.. deep caverns, roots and soil so rich it could wriggle under your hooves.”

Grapes chuckled, and smiled at him. “So you heard the Heart of the World, hm? That’s one of the meditations I learned from Starswirl’s book ‘On the Confluence of Magics’,” she explained. “And now I feel a lot better. I’ll have to do that a few more times to get myself back to where I was, but I really needed to get that started before I went to bed, or else I’d lose it entirely.”

“All right. Thank you for showing me that, Miss Grapes. Good night, and if you need me you know who to call for.”

“That I do,” Grapes said with a smile, as she got up, and went to her house. Tomorrow would be interesting to say the least.

The next day Grapes was feeling much better, but the farm seemed echoingly empty, even with Earshot there. She went to the Bunkhouse to collect Earshot. He was sleeping in more often these days. Then again he did mention that his kin did quasi-hibernate during the winter so she wasn’t going to fault him for wanting an extra hour or two. She was however surprised to find Thistledown at the Bunkhouse stove frying something up that smelled… delicious.

“Well, well, well. Welcome to my parlor, Sour Grapes,” he said with a laugh. “Earshot’s not awake yet but I’m sure this will bring him down soon. Care for some? I made plenty.”

“You’ll excuse my caution in asking what it is, exactly, before I commit myself, right?” Grapes asked with a raised eyebrow.

“A friend of mine once introduced me to the joys of Tofu. This is what happens when you scramble it all up with an assortment of diced veggies and cheese, before you fry it up and serve it up all bundled in a roll of flatbread.”

“So… fermented soybean curd, cooked with veggies and cheese. You get protein, and the curd absorbs the flavorings you add to it,” Grapes mused. “Neighpanese import, if I recall correctly. Slowly catching on, though.”

“It’s interesting and oddly versatile.”

“Apparently it can also mimic the flavor and texture of some meats, to give us vegetarians a taste of what we’re missing, without any nasty side-effects,” Grapes added. “Or at least that’s what I read. Despite being acquainted with several individuals of the porcine variety, I have been rather curious about something called bacon… Maybe this could be a way to actually try it, without having to worry about… well… possibly knowing who... er… donated it.”

“Well that’s a thought. I also have Scones with Devonshire Crême if you want something different. You mentioned scones the other day and it got me wanting them. Interestingly enough I had to show Pinkie Pie how to make them.”

“You bake?” Grapes asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re a stallion of many talents, Thistle.”

“Why thank you. Yeah, somepony had to bake at ‘The Sandwich Shop’. That’s a lot of bread, buns and other related things you can put fillings between.” He smiled and rolled up another batch of ‘Scrambled Tofu’ in a flatbread. “Mom and dad gave me some skills to work with and it’d a shame to not use them.”

“...Well… I have to admit your family has a flair for the utilitarian, when it comes to naming, but I’m pretty sure it stands out among the sea of clever, and not-so-clever sandwich puns,” Grapes observed. “Glad you didn’t get caught up on the high spirits of last night, by the way.”

“Well to be honest I don’t so much drink alcohol as rent it. Goes right though, so I was in the little pony’s room when the clock struck Twelve O’Brawl. I did stay behind to help clean up… the band are a friendly lot.”

“Nice to see you making new friends,” Grapes said as she ate a scrambled tofu wrap.

“Glad you’re one of them when you’re not my boss. You got quite the set of pipes on you.” He placed a batch of scones on the table along with a large bowl of some sort of whipped cream. "Would you have REALLY kicked all their flanks?"

“Yes. Yes I would have,” Grapes said, spreading some cream on her scone, carefully. “I don’t suffer fools gladly. Especially when they’re being particularly foolish. And anypony who lets the alcohol do the decision-making is a first-rate fool. You’ll recall that some of the temps got fired over that, before we brought on the Riders. Mind you, I won’t be doing that to the Riders. I’m sure they’re mature enough for the lesson to stick, and I am allowing for provocation.”

“Yeah. Just glad it was the Wonderbolts instead of some group like Celestia’s Royal Guard. Can you imagine two branches of ‘Royal’ response teams getting into a fight? Oh SUCH scandal!”

“That reminds me, I need to head into town to meet Captain Spitfire, to spring the two teams, soon. She said around noon-ish, and it takes time to get there. I also don’t want to have to gallop,” Grapes said, getting up, putting on her winter boots, and wrapping her scarf around her neck.

“Spitfire? Oh yes. Their leader. Glad to see somepony can make their bail.”

“I don’t think bail is needed. They were in the drunk tank, and I don’t think Berry’s pressing charges,” Grapes said, as she headed out the door. “Make sure Earshot gets fed, would you, and does his over-the-holidays homework. Not sure how long this will take.”

“Not a problem. But if he comes downstairs walking on the ceiling I might scream like a little filly.” He looked at her expression and frowned. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to mop a ceiling?”

“That’s why you tell him to mop the ceiling,” Grapes said as she headed with that she started out for Ponyville proper, trotting briskly, with plenty of time to make it to the Tanty around “noonish”.

At the edge of town she came across a familiar yellow pony in mirrorshades waiting by the side of the road, enjoying an apple. She saw her approach and finished it off quickly.

“Glad to see you’re doing okay. I’d have gone to your front door but I wasn’t sure you’d appreciate a half-stranger just appearing there. Plus it’s easier to wait for you than to chance missing you between here and there.”

“Well I appreciate that, Captain,” Grapes said with a chuckle. “And you were munching an apple from my cousin, Applejack.”

“You’re related to the apple pony in the square? He seems nice. Big, but nice.”

“That’s Big Macintosh,” Grapes said with a smile.

“Good to know. One of my team has an eye for him,” Spitfire said, moving to match Grapes’ easy pace. “So what’s this Mister Applejack like, so I know if I see him.”

“She is an orange pony with a stetson. Very rough-and-tumble, speaks with a country accent. You probably saw her at the Best Young Flyer competition rooting for Rainbow Dash.”

“That was her? Yeah, I remember. We don’t get a lot of non-pegasi up in the clouds. Probably friends with miss Butterfly-wings too.” Grapes chuckled.

“That was Rarity. I don’t think she’s going to try flying again any time soon,” Grapes observed, as they trotted through town toward the Tanty. “But yeah, she and Applejack are friends, along with the other four.”

“I have to admit that their friend, Rainbow Dash, is a good flier. Heck a damn good one. That’s the kind of spark you’re hoping to see when you go to those events.”

“Well she is quite the big fan, and is looking to join you all, someday,” Grapes mentioned casually.

“Well if she keeps doing what she’s doing, she’s got more than half a chance. Hey… wild guess… is THAT where we’re headed?”

The Tanty was known by the foals in town as ‘The Iron Tower’, as it was once a military outpost: a small two-story building with a tower-like structure attached for Pegasi landing and sending light-signals to be seen by Canterlot or the next nearest outpost. When it was constructed it was made with a heavy stone, deep foundations and heavy oak doors banded with iron. Although these days it had been given stucco and a brighter paintjob, there was no disguising the thick, riveted ironwork that wrapped around the tower like hoops on a barrel. It was a guard tower built to take on the heaviest siege a group of locals could throw at it… These days however it served more as emergency storage of fruits and vegetables and occasionally storing rowdy ponies until they cooled off. The only time Ponyville actually even GOT guard ponies any more was when the ‘Local Colts Who Made Good™’ came down from Canterlot for the holidays. Or when local colts and fillies decided that Ponyville would be a nice place to retire from active service, and raise a family.

“Pretty much,” Grapes said with a slight smirk.

“Well,” she said, dusting off the front of her uniform and getting the wrinkles out “Here’s where we see if our colts and fillies have dried out enough to be let out again. I still can’t believe that those were the Storm-Riders. My dad told me stories about them growing up.”

“Really? Kind of wild. From what they've been telling me, they’re kind of an unknown, for the most part. But then, it goes to show that they’re doing their job really well,” Grapes observed.

“Dad says the same thing. That the only time ponies are aware of them is when they appear to fix one of those Rogue Storms, then before it has time to sink in, they leave.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “Dad was one of them. Used to handle heat-based phenomenon under the name Brushfire. Course this was back when he took orders from a pony named Lady Weathervain.”

“That’s the boss lady from what I’ve heard. Haven’t met her, yet, but she sounds like a pistol,” Grapes chuckles.

“Yeah, that’d be her then. She must be ancient by now, Dad had fond memories of that mare. Believe it or not I actually wanted to BE one of the Storm-Riders. Make the old coot proud of me. I had good skills but I lacked the right mindset. In nearly all other jobs you either lead, follow, or get out of the way… with them you lead AND follow. It’s just a matter of when each happens. Me? I’m a leader, it’s what I do and it’s part of who I am. It takes a better pony than me to be able to turn it on and off like a faucet.”

“So you chose the Wonderbolts, who most pegasi look up to, and the Storm Riders consider a waste of time, resources, and uniforms,” Grapes observed. “Nevermind they having to save a couple of your teammates from their own showboating at Mount Ashbringer.”

“You don’t pull any punches, do you?” Spitfire uttered, giving Grapes a flat look.

“No. No I don’t,” Grapes quipped with a smirk. “What can I say, I’m getting a kick out of letting you know that your cute little flight team isn’t universally loved. Schadenfreude is a bit of a thing with me.”

“Good thing that neither do I. I’ll go and grab the recruits,” Spitfire said, heading into the Tanty, with an amused Grapes following. She let the guard know why she was there, and they went into the cell block to let the Wonderbolts out.

Spitfire held up a hoof to prevent the guard from letting them out, just yet, then stood a bit to the side, and indicated the Riders.

"Ladies, they may look like a mismatched group of misfits, but let me tell you something, this group of pegasi do more good for Equestria than we can hope to in a YEAR. May I introduce to you the Royal Equestrian Rogue Storm Emergency Response Team, also known as the Storm Riders. They handle the weather that the normal weather teams can't. And you decided it was a good idea pick a fight with pegasi who buck tornadoes, wrestle hurricanes, and prevent lava flows and ash-falls from volcanoes from completely obliterating a town,” Spitfire said, the last bit directly at Blue Streak and Contrail. “My father, Brushfire, was on that team. And I’ll be bucked sideways before I hear you all disrespecting them again. Get me?”

The Wonderbolts all looked mortified, then looked down, murmuring something that sounded like an ashamed: “Yes ma’am.”

“Sound off like you’ve got a pair of wings, maggots!” Spitfire barked.

“MA’AM! YES MA’AM!”

“Everybody out, and form up in front of the Tanty! Don’t even THINK this drying out time was your punishment detail. You will be working so hard, you’ll be BEGGING to come back! Oh, and Blue Streak, congratulations on your new job as assistant Mascot. MOVE, maggots!”

“Ah, nothing like the good-old drill sergeant vibe to put the hustle into their feathers,” Grapes said, as the guard let the Riders out. “Don’t think I can do it, though. Don’t quite have the lung-power, or the attitude. All right. Come on. Walk of shame time, ponies.”

The Storm Riders left their cell and one by one passed by Grapes on the way out. The Gray ‘captain’ of the vacationing guard watched with interest and gave Grapes a respectful nod. Grapes followed the Storm Riders out to see Spitfire eyeing Firestormer with a half-smile on her face. She casually sauntered up behind him, and gave his flank a sharp slap.

“Hey, cute-stuff, look me up next time you’re in Cloudsdale,” she said, before trotting back to her team, and ordering them to double-time it back to the hotel.

Grapes smirked, then looked at the very stunned face of Firestormer.

“That… that just happened. Didn’t it?” he said, his eyes apparently stuck on ‘way open’.

"That enough 'love' for you, Firestormer?” Grapes quipped with a smirk. "After all, if the Captain of the Wonderbolts thinks that a member of the Storm Riders has a nice flank, you must be doing something right."

“Ma’am, yes ma’am,” he managed to squeak out.

"Also..." Grapes started, then went into that dangerously sweet voice, "I hope you've all learned your lesson."

“Aye… we have, miss.” Squall said quietly, acting as the voice of the group. “It’s easy to forget that we’re not just responsible for our actions but also our bad behavior reflects badly on you as well.”

“Very good. Even if it’s the ‘off’ season, you are still known for working for me, locally. Let’s head back, and try to move forward. Maybe next week, I’ll actually get to sing. As it is, I’ll be working on regaining my balance for at least that long,” Grapes uttered, as they trotted back through town.

“So…” Stormfront began. “I didn’t see Thistledown in there. He’s back at the farm?”

“Yup. He was in the washroom when you guys started your epic throwdown,” Grapes replied. “So he came back to the vineyard.”

“Good to hear. He’s probably making Earshot lunch right now.” He paused then hung his head low and slowed his pace, letting the others go on ahead without him or Grapes. “ I can’t tell you how sorry I am for doing that last night. It’s just… what he called you was so WRONG.”

“I’ve been called worse,” Grapes said, looking up at Stormfront. “By a unicorn, no less. I mean, seriously, to me that just sounded like something some school-yard foal would say.”

“Yeah. Down here it would,” he said with more than a little apprehension. “Culturally speaking it was really, really bad. Pegasi live up in the air, we don’t just walk on clouds, we sculpt them as if they were solid. Just for a moment, think of the culture you get from that being normal… then try to think of what the opposite of air would be like to a pegasus.”

“Earth, I get it. But still, I was called a ‘dirt fornicating spawn of a clod’, so the whole anti-earth thing isn’t just a pegasi phenomenon,” Grapes observed.

“Ah. Yeah that’s a unicorn slur isn’t it? Kind of an old one too. That one would go way back to the idea of… well… ‘Station’. Where everypony should ‘know their place’. Pegasi are flighty airheads who are better off out of sight pushing around the clouds, and the Earth Ponies are slow and clumsy who should remain grubbing about in the dirt while their Unicorn overlords keep ruling over them with their awesome magic powers.” He stopped when he saw her surprised expression and he shrugged. “When you’re born with wings like mine you take a lot of abuse from everypony. I wound up learning more about insults than most ponies realise is there.”

“Yeah? Well, you know how a lot unicorns can be all about ‘station’,” Grapes observed a bit sourly.

“Not all unicorns. Many are really quite… good when you take the time to know them.”

“I know I know. But being something of an outcast among unicorns… Well… I’m a bit bitter about that,” Grapes said with a sigh.

“Just don’t let it make you too bitter. I like you better when you’re just being just… Sour.” he chuckled and leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“You think…” Grapes started, as she turned look at Stormfront at just the wrong or, depending on how you look at this sort of thing, the right time.

Lips met, and time didn’t so much as stand still but stretched like taffy, a heartbeat becoming an eternity in the span of a kiss. A million things went through Sour Grapes’ mind all at once, some of which were “Are we really surrounded by doves?”, “Am I really hearing a swelling orchestral accompaniment?”, “Why I am seeing fireworks?” (Although later it was discovered that the Cutie Mark Crusaders had accidentally set a wagon load of fireworks off in town which ended up breaking the window on a nearby pet store releasing their special of the month while Octavia and her friends were practicing at a nearby outdoor cafe.) At the end of it, though, Grapes just… froze, as if her mind were a computer, and it had just experienced a hard crash.

Stormfront covered his muzzle with his hooves and stammered out an apology but it petered out fairly quickly when he realised something was amiss.

“OH! Oh, Sorry! I just wanted to give you a kiss on the cheek and then… uh… Grapes? Grapes are you ok? Are you…?” He waved a hoof in front of her face. “Oh Fewmits. I broke Grapes.”

“No, you didn’t. She just needs to come to terms with what just happened,” came the rather amused voice of Champagne Grapes. “Not sure if your jaw will be safe, though. The last time some colt kissed her, she gave them a hard left-hook. Though that was back in elementary school.” Stormy turned to face Grapes’ father, to find that they were both there.

“Honestly, I think it’s about time she admitted she likes you, personally,” Champagne Diamond-Grapes observed with a smile toward her daughter. “I swear, I think she’s had a bit of a crush on you, ever since she talked to you that first time.”

“Mister Champagne, Missus Champagne! I, ah… am pleased to see you back in town. Had a good time on your extended leave?”

“Yes, dear, retirement is suiting us quite well,” Cham said with a smile. “Give her a few, I’m sure she’ll come around. Poor dear just had her first kiss, after all, and she had resigned herself to being forever alone.”

Just then Grapes started to blink, rapidly, and then closed her eyes, shaking her head, as if to free herself from cobwebs.

“Wha… I… How… Did… Did that just happen?!” Grapes sputtered, looking shocked. “I… I… Oh… Oh wow…” she added blushing.

“It, did. I’m sorry!” Stormfront confessed, his wings reflexively moving in front of his muzzle to protect it from violent reprisal. “It was supposed to be just on the cheek. Just a friendly peck.”

“That’s… still considerably more affectionate than… well… usual,” Grapes observed, still blushing. “Of course Mom would go and mention… that… I… Look, I haven’t had friends, until you. You were the very first. I… I was kind of worried about losing that... And I never thought that you’d ever… like me in that way… I’m a lot of too’s. Too snarky, too sour, too independent, too unladylike, too smart for her own good...”

“But that’s part of who you ARE,” he said gently as he peeked out between some parted feathers. “Makes you interesting. Mom always told me that perfect is unbearable, but it’s the little imperfections that really make a pony. You know… like a quilt.”

“So… you find all my little quirks… comforting?” Grapes asked, tilting her head, curiously.

“Well… yes. Friends know when to sugar coat the truth. Good friends know when to lay it out, no matter how ugly the truth is. Without you telling me what was what, I probably would STILL be wrapped up under that horse blanket and belt and totally earthbound.”

“And… you like me, that way?” Grapes asked, rubbing the back of her head with a hoof. “Ah… I… hope you don’t mind if we take this, you know, slowly. I have no experience, what-so-ever, with romance. And… I’m pretty sure I’m going to mess up, here and there.”

“I understand. And I’m good with that. I’m… quite the fledgling with that, myself.”

“Well, Raisinette, you’ve already got an important part of that down,” Champ said with a smile. “You two are friends. Couples should be friends, before they get… involved.”

“I agree wholeheartedly,” Cham said with a nod. “C’mon. Everypony’s waiting on you two, you know.”

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It was the day of Hearth’s Warming Eve and Grapes was for a change, standing back and watching her mother work the kitchen with Thistledown as her helper. Between the two of them the kitchen was a swirl of activity and every window in the house was covered in steam. Firestormer’s own parents, Big Shot and Hot Spur, had arrived shortly after the cooking began with their own assortment of casseroles and the like brought all the way from their home in Upper Taisu Town. Mostly things that were good served cold or reheated.

It was good to just stand back and let things happen, the house was decorated inside and out. Queenie had even included some beautiful Ice Sculpture for the yard. She had a trio of ponies, a Unicorn, a Pegasus and an Earth Pony, each resembling Clover the Clever, Private Pansy and Smart Cookie respectively. She was impressed by the fact each had a red-coloured hollow in the back to the core, where a tea candle would be placed creating a symbolic flickering glow. The veritable ‘Fires of Friendship’. Grapes, of course, had contributed to the decoration with the eager help of Earshot, all the while explaining the significance and symbolism of each one.

Feeling slightly like a third wheel on a two-wheel cart she tossed on her winter wear and headed over to the Bunkhouse and found Twilight just stepping up onto their porch with an ambulatory pile of gifts behind her that MUST be Spike. The magical mare glanced over and waved.

“Hi, Grapes. Caught me dropping gifts off. Figured since I had ones for Applejack and her family I might as well bring some for you and the others... well, especially Earshot. I got the astrological information he asked for. I might have gone a little overboard with it but I figured the context of how the two Solstices blend with Equestria’s magical forces might be good information for his kin to have.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me, Twilight?” Grapes asked, with a chuckle. “Your holiday been good so far?”

“Oh really good. Mom and Dad are taking advantage of both their children being out and about this Eve and going out for a romantic dinner in Canterlot. This… this is gonna be my first one away from them, or the Princess.” her voice softening and losing a little of it’s cheer. “I have Spike, and of course my new friends. It’s a wonderful experience I wouldn’t give up… I just… you know.”

“Yeah, I hear you. You… you wanna meet my parents?” Grapes asked.

"You think our relationship is THAT serious already?" Twilight asked, obviously joking.

"Wait... Are you saying you like me in that fashion? Really? But we hardly know one another! True, it's hard to find somepony who could possibly be equal yet different in intellect, in order to keep conversations interesting, but... Huh. I didn't know you swung that way, either. Not that I judge or anything, or have a particularly closed mind. But... this is all so sudden!"

Twilight blinked in surprise at Grapes’ rather over-the-top delivery, then chuckled ruefully. "I'd... have to get up pretty early in the morning to try and out-snark you, huh?" she asked.

"More like you'd have to do an all-night cram session, then come forward, while fighting exhaustion," Grapes quipped back.

"Even then, you probably wouldn't be able to," Spike added with a smirk.

"Thank you, Spike," Twilight uttered sarcastically, then looked thoughtful. "Well I know where to get this special wake-up tea..."

"Then you'd be seeing the universe, again, and we all know how well THAT went. It was rather nice having Spike here, though,” Grapes retorted. “Fantastic cook, that Spike.”

“To answer the original question, sure. Just let me get these out of the way first.” Twilight knocked on the door and Earshot opened it for her. “Hello Earshot.”

“Heya Miss Sparkle! Heard you and Miss Grapes out here. Come on in. The others are just getting things ready.”

“Yeah. Kind of a small party for everypony here. Invited the Apples, of course, and you’re welcome to drop by, too. Just not sure about the others. I’m sure they’d rather spend their holiday with their families,” Grapes added, as they went in.

“Well we can stop by for a bit. I brought you that information on Solstices, Earshot. I did my best to keep it comprehensive even if it gets technical at times.”

“Thank you, Miss Sparkle!” Earshot exclaimed as he received a large ledger along with several astrogational charts. “Miss Indigo Gleam will absolutely love these. She’s always looking into expanding our library.”

“And here is my gift to you, Earshot. You can open it now if you want.” Twilight smiled as she handed over a rectangular package wrapped in bright red and green paper. Grapes refrained from rolling her eyes, Twilight had become notorious for giving books as gifts to everypony. Not a bad gift in her opinion but you need to ‘mix it up’ a little now and again or it just gets repetitive.

The young pony tore into the wrapping and pulled out a curiously Charcoal-gray book with Purple highlights and Earshot’s Cutiemark on the cover. He opened it up and found a gold pen inside.

“You like it? I got it specially made for you, seeing as it’s your first Hearth’s Warming.”

“It’s wonderful, Miss Sparkle! What happened to the words though?” Earshot asked, examining the blank pages.

“What happened…? Oh! Oh it’s a Journal! You add the words yourself. I thought that you might want to write your observations of Hearth’s Warming as they happen.”

“Thank you, Miss Sparkle! I really needed this!”

“That’s rather a thoughtful gift,” Grapes observed with a smile. “Kind of nice that you thought about Earshot wanting to write down his observations.”

“Yeah. Just don’t be surprised with what everyone else gets,” came a familiar voice from under the pile of presents. “She’s got one for you in here too.”

“Yes, THANK you, Spike. I can take it from here,” Twilight said picking up another parcel from his pile and giving it to Grapes. “Hope you like it. One advantage to the… compact size of your personal library is that it’s easy to tell what you don’t have.”

“Never mind you got a good look at it, while you were here, ill, right?” Grapes said with a grin. “C’mon, Spike, let’s excavate you from the pile, shall we?” Grapes lifted the pile off of the young dragon and placed it on a nearby table. “There. That should help. And a book. What a surprise. You’re quite infamous for your… lack of variety in gifting, Twilight.”

“What do you mean ‘lack of variety’?” she protested. “I never give the same book twice!”

“True. But it’s still an obvious lack of variety in the items of your gifting. You consistently give books, or book-like items. Just the least little bit of a rut, there, Twilight. Mind you, I don’t fault you for attempting to get more ponies to read, but your approach lacks subtlety,” Grapes observed. “Though, you did give me a book I’d never heard of for my birthday, and it turned out quite good. So kudos for that.”

“... Told ya…”

“THANK YOU, Spike,” Twilight said, almost grinding her teeth. “Blame it on upbringing… and you can probably guess what my parents gave me every year.”

“Ah. I see. Well… On one hoof, I have to admit, that a lot of time you do choose books related to the ponies to whom you are gifting them. Not sure if Applejack actually read that book on modern farming techniques… But I am sure it probably got used in some fashion.”

“Hopefully she’ll use a few improvements on cider production next cider season. Still, I’ve received a FEW suggestions on adding ‘variety’ to my gifts… it didn’t go over very well,” the purple mare glared at her assistant.

“Hey, what’s wrong with giving gemstones?” he protested.

Twilight just face-hooved.

“Nothing if you’re a dragon, but I’m sure you were hoping to get the ones that ponies didn’t want, hm?” Grapes asked smirking down at Spike. “After all, you’d do anything for your friends, including taking unwanted gems, and/or ice cream off their hooves.”

“Can Spike have one of MY cookies?” Earshot asked. “Not sure if eating gems means he won’t have the same reaction to my cookies that Tiara and Spoon did.”

“One of… Oh yeah. I heard about that. Go ahead Earshot, Spike should be good.” Twilight acknowledged before dropping her voice slightly and glancing at Grapes “He was able to stomach those baked bads of AJ’s as easily as shards of diamond. Dragons must be born with cast-iron stomachs.”

With Spike and Earshot distracted by the contents of Earshot’s cookie jar, Grapes and Twilight set about exchanging Twilight’s gifts for the Storm-Riders… who definitely had Twilight pegged with their gifts for her.

Firestormer got a book on mundane techniques for dealing with magical fire spells. He in turn gave her a Phoenix feather bookmark. When asked where he got it, he confessed he found one under Philomina’s perch when last at the Palace and he helpfully ‘cleaned up’ the area for Celestia.

Twilight got Sirocco an appropriate as well as useful gift.. a Thesaurus, although Grapes could only wonder how many NEW words she would mangle as her vocabulary grew. Sirocco one-upped Twilight with a book of Poetry she had brought with her from Saddle Arabia. No doubt Twilight was already going through her mental list of library books hoping to find books that would allow her to translate this new prize.

Stormfront wound up giving Twilight a Day-planner. Apparently he had heard how organised she was and thought “One more day-planner would no doubt be useful to you.” Twilight agreed and gave him a book on baking, in hopes that his would improve. (She had once eaten some cake he had made and spent the rest of the evening just wanting to lie down and digest instead of staying on schedule.)

To Queenie, Twilight found a copy of “The Practical Ice-Sculptor” which detailed various techniques used by masters of the frozen medium to achieve their artistic visions. Something that would be of great use to the self-taught Queenie. With great gratitude, the pegasus gave Twilight an Illuminated scroll that extended to her an open invitation to Avalanche Valley and complete access to the Royal Archives of the town. It was the first time Grapes had seen Twilight spontaneously hug anypony of royal bearing… or be hugged back by one.

Summer Squall was rather pleased to open his gift and find a book on the latest Sea Shanties. (He confessed since becoming landlocked he had fallen a wee bit behind.) In return he gave her a wooden box filled with small compartments bearing mementos of his many adventures. Although confused at first, the more she and Squall discussed them, the more excited she became at the prospect of studying exotic materials as Memory-bark from the Canterandcarry Islands, fragments from an antarctic Pony-guin’s egg and Rope woven from the hair of a Mermare’s mane. At least once she got him to swear that while he might exaggerate on his adventures, they are all well-founded in honest truth.

Earshot’s gift to her was a little different than the others. He sat down at the table and with his new journal and let her watch him write out his first observations in the script of the Night Ponies while he narrated out loud. Twilight was spellbound as the words took shape in that strange, almost otherworldly script.

When it was over she thanked him and she and Grapes headed back to the main house on the property.

“His use of grammar and sentence structure is astonishingly archaic. Even though the words and lettering looked more like music to me, the way he explained it reminded me of some of the older tomes in the Canterlot Royal Library. You know, real pre-Nightmare Moon stuff. It was like seeing a forgotten slice of history laid out. I wonder if he really is part of a ‘lost culture’, and if so how does an entire subspecies of a pony tribe just… go missing from the records? Then again if we forgot about them then nopony would be LOOKING for them, would they? I’m going to have to add this to the list of things to look for at the palace on my next Canterlot visit.”

“Well, considering the fact that his tribe is nocturnal, and it just might look like they would benefit from ‘eternal night’...” Grapes started, then trailed off, leaving Twilight to draw her own conclusions.

“Ouch… I hope Princess Luna doesn't think of how many ponies she might have hurt with the fallout of her downfall.”

“Thing is, according to Double Helix’s Guide to Magically Created Species, Earshot’s tribe has to have been in existence long before the Luna’s fall,” Grapes observed. “But yeah, the Night Ponies showed some great foresight in thinking that the ‘daylighters’ may decide to turn on them because they look like they just may have allied themselves with Nightmare Moon, when all they happened to be is just nocturnal. Never mind what has occurred with Nightmare Night. It is the victors, or at least those who are riding the tail of the victor in this case, who write history.”

“I’ve read some of Double Helix’s papers. He makes for compelling arguments. I’m guessing you read his book for more… personal reasons?”

“Well he is a definitive expert on magically created species, and how long they take to be properly established without throwbacks to the creatures that were used to create said new species. So I guess it was a personal reason,” Grapes replied. “I mean, helping a little kid feel a bit better about his heritage is a personal reason, right?”

“I can’t think of a more noble use for it than that, although I was implying more along the idea of… well… if your own breeding will be a ‘balance’ in your progeny or if they’ll do as it usually does and just, go either way.”

“But… I’m not exactly a magically created species,” Grapes observed.

“You’re a snarky blend of unicorn and earth pony who has managed to keep up a balance between her two halves. I don’t know about you, but that’s pretty magical to me.”

“Yeah, giving up half my unicorn magic, in order to have some limited form of earth sense,” Grapes said. “And it’s a meditation that anypony, willing to give up a portion of their inherent magic, can do. I’m not ‘magically’ able to do both Earth Pony and unicorn stuff. My levitation is VERY limited, unless I tip my balance away from Earth Pony. It’s also affected by how I perceive things, because unless I tip my balance I can only lift one thing at the time. And my earth sense is very limited, unless I tip my balance toward Earth Pony. And we’ve already had the discussion about hooking me up to your infernal machines. I am NOT going anywhere NEAR anything that Redline you built while on that ‘special wake-up tea’.”

“Aw… please? It’s for science.”

“No, and that’s final. Pinkie Pie’s one pony, but I need all my brain cells intact, thank you very much,” Grapes said flatly.

“Oh poop… I - I mean Darn! Don’t tell Celestia I said ‘poop’.”

“Secret’s safe with me,” Grapes uttered looking amused. “Though I stopped saying ‘poop’ when I was about thirteen, and graduated to ‘horseapples’, ‘fewmits’, and assorted other words meaning fecal matter that often can impact rotating blades.”

“Well, yeah but you’re not the Princess’ personal protege. Sometimes I feel like she’s almost grooming me for something other than magic. But that’s the paranoia talking.”

“Paranoia? Really? Never would have guessed,” Grapes quipped with a slight smirk, as she opened her present. “Huh. ‘The Practical Guide to Distilling and Brewing’. You’ve heard me talking about expanding my line, thanks to Applejack’s wagers, hm?”

“Yep. Thought you might like any edge you could get. AJ’s my friend but I’m interested in the chemistry behind fermentation techniques.”

“Thanks, Twilight,” Grapes said, sounding truly grateful.

Grapes turned her head for just a moment then turned back to find Twilight measuring her cranium with calipers. She frowned and reasserted her last statement: “NO, means no, Twilight.” To make sure that Twilight got the message, she yoinked the calipers out of Twi’s grip, and using her earth-powered magical strength, crushed them into a ball. CRUNCH

Spike blinked then held up a single claw. “Uhhhh… those were your OTHER gift, Sour Grapes.”

“Then why was she using them to measure my cranium?” Grapes asked, looking at the now crunched calipers. “Because Little Miss ‘For Science’, here, should have known that would tick me off.”

“Well… now you have a new and very interesting paperweight for your desk,” Twilight said smiling weakly. “Sorry… it’s hard for me to let go of stuff. You also seem to have quite the grip.”

“Yeah. I have a little bleed-over. Earth Pony strength and stamina makes my levitation stronger than normal, as long as it’s one-thing-at-a-time,” Grapes said casually. “Also gives it good ‘crushing strength’, as you observed.” However, she did wonder why Twilight thought that she would need such an accurate measuring device like a set of calipers...

The two left the Bunkhouse and made a beeline to Grapes’ home.

“You really have done really well out here. I like the Hearth’s Warming sculptures out front. I was able to get a commission from Queenie while she was still affordable to a pony on a librarian’s salary.”

“So… no royal stipend, then? Or any kind of danger pay? Or even royalties for your cutie mark in the Elements of Flavorousity cereal? I would think that as a field researcher for Princess Celestia, and a national hero, undersung as you may be, you’d get a little something from the royal treasury,” Grapes observed.

“Oh… you heard about that, did you? Funny thing about that… you see… the thing is…”

“She spent this month’s allowance on books and equipment for her lab,” Spike said flatly. “If I hadn’t gotten Celestia so send a portion of it to ME as the grocery budget, she’d be grazing in the snow right now.”

“Somehow I am not surprised at all,” Grapes said giggling.

“OKAY! I’ve never actually had to budget out my own money until Ponyville! I GET it! I’ll use Stormfront’s gift to help me plan out my expenditures! Happy?”

“Look up Fiscal Plan’s ‘Budgeting For Beginners’, too, when you get home,” Grapes advised. “Has lots of helpful tips to make creating a personal budget easy. Believe it or not, it’s how I was able to manage the vineyard’s finances. At least until tax time. Then Sirocco shared her numerical acumen with me, and that’s gone a lot easier, too. Also if you ask her nicely, I’m sure she’d be willing to lend you a hoof with your financial dilemma.”

“So, any warning about your parents before I exchange pleasantries? Are they as quick witted as you?”

“Had to have gotten it from somewhere,” Grapes quipped with a smirk. “I’m sure they’ll go easy on you, though.”

“Here’s hoping.”

As far as introductions go, they went rather smoothly, and Twilight had a surprisingly enjoyable time meeting The Grapes’ and Firestormer’s parents. Twilight left, pleading a previous engagement with her friends, and that’s when the rather sedate Hearth’s Warming party got underway. The Riders chatted with Cham, Champ, Hot Spur, and Big Shot with the politeness you give the parents of someone you don’t want to hurt. The parents, on the other hand, were all for speaking on embarrassing instances of their children’s lives. Firestormer was often reminded of instances of shenanigans he got into with his friends while Grapes wound up being lovingly chided about the “Glue and Gold Dust” incident of so long ago. Grapes thought she was through the worst when her mother pulled the picture out of a drawer to show it off.

There, on an 11 by 8 sheet of white paper was… Princess Twinkle-Butt. Perhaps the most… flamboyant princess ever. With a curved horn, curly hair, butterfly wings in all the colors of the rainbow and leaving a glittery golden trail in her wake. Princess… Twinkle-Butt was everything that only a little filly could imagine a magical princess to be. Grapes groaned, covering her face with her hooves, and faceplanting on the wood surface in complete and utter shame.

“In my defense, I was four,” Grapes uttered.

While everypony was laughing over it, she felt Stormy next to her, his body shaking as he tried to not give in to his own mirth.

“Don’t feel so bad, boss… how many foals can say the value of their childhood drawings have actually gone UP over the years?”

“I would guess somewhere in the vicinity of diddly and squat,” Grapes quipped, “but then most foals, not even the richest, and brattiest, ever get to use gold dust as a medium.”

“There you go. You should be thankful your parents saved this one rather than scrape it back into the bag. It means somewhere along the line they forgave you… or planned on this being your retirement fund. I dunno.”

“You’re just a wellspring of positive thoughts, aren’t you, Stormy?” Grapes snarked good naturedly.

“That's me! Your friendly neighborhood tornado bucker, just FULL of sunshine and rainbows! ...Although after seeing your picture it looks like pooping Golden Glitter is a whole other department.”

Grapes blinked a couple of times at the big gray pegasus, and simply started laughing. “Blast it all,” she said between giggles. “She’s NOT pooping gold glitter! Oh… Gracious… You’re getting good at Snarky, Stormy.”

“What can I say… I keep good company.”

“Well… you DO know that the longer a couple is together, the more traits they share. And you two have been in one another’s company for… quite some time.” Queenie said in her best matter-of-factual voice.

“Let’s hope you don’t start getting nearsighted,” Grapes uttered, drolly. “Though, you would look good in a pair of wire-frames.”

For a moment Stormy looked surprised, then he blushed and smiled.

“High praise indeed.”

“It’s true. They’d make you look very studious,” Grapes said with a smirk.

Queenie giggled in a conspiratorial fashion and patted the bespectacled pony on the shoulder. “I’m guessing that he never told you, mmm?”

“Told me what, exactly?” Grapes asked an eyebrow raised.

Queenie looked up at Stormy who in turn glanced to his left and right apparently hoping for some avenue of escape when there was a sudden wash of cold air across Grapes’ spine. She heard the front door click shut and a pleasant laugh accompanied by a warm female voice.

“Why… that my little colt has a… a ‘thing’ for fillies in glasses of course.”

Grapes turned, an eyebrow raised, obviously curious about who THIS could be.

Behind her, was a matronly pegasus mare with a cloud-gray body and a powder blue curly mane. A quick glance at her indicated that while she wasn’t really any older than her own parents, the result of a hard life had worn grooves into her face. But as far as she could tell she had both laugh lines as well as those caused by worry. The mare folded up her pink scarf and moved over to Stormfront and it was like seeing a transformation over him. His grand figure may have made hers seem diminutive as he seemed to suddenly become a child once more, his wings swinging forwards, to embrace her as he rested upon her shoulder.

“Ma… you came. I was gonna come to your cruise ship and…”

“Oh, hush now, child. I know what you planned to do but I wasn’t about to let my baby spend half his holiday in trying to rush back and forth just to make me happy. And don’t fret, neither. The ship had to be repaired. While we were in port, some sea serpent needed something to scratch an itch and put a hole in the side. Purely accidental, poor thing kept apologising. So we were given a chance to travel anywhere we wished while it was in dry dock. I chose to come here where my son and his friends were.”

“Oh, Ma.”

“So… You’re Stormfront’s mother. Not sure if you’ve heard of me or not.”

“Oh, yes I have, my dearie. Yes I have.” The older mare moved over to her and smiled up at her, letting Grapes see where Stormy got those big blue eyes from, “You may call me Stormbound and you must be Sour Grapes. My colt’s told me so much about you. Your steely will, your sharp tongue and razor wit… it’s easy to see why he thinks so highly of you. That and he did love a filly in glasses.”

“Really now? Most colts found them to be a deterrent. The whole ‘colts don’t make passes at fillies in glasses’ shtick… My response was always ‘Good. I wouldn’t want a little colt, anyway, when I can find a stallion who’ll look beyond the surface’,” Grapes responded.

“Oh yes, well a pretty thing in glasses was kind to little Flopsy once and it sort-of took.”

“‘Flopsy’?” Grapes asked, grinning. “For the wings, right? They can be a little… flopsy.” There were, of course, giggles all around the table, much to Stormfront’s consternation.

“Maaaa...” he groaned before apparently realising something. “Do… do you have a place to stay?”

“Oh. Well I thought I’d find myself a nice hotel and…”

“They’re booked solid, Ma. It’s Hearth’s Warming Eve and there is no room at the inn. Look, I can let you sleep in my room over at the bunkhouse. It’s warm, cozy and I can always hunker down in the Recreation room.”

“Well, if you insist, Flopsy.”

“You promised!” he hissed under his breath, which got a clucking sound from his mother.

“I did nothing of the kind. I said I wouldn’t call you anything embarrassing in front of others and I am not yet embarrassed.”

“Ah… Ma’am?” Grapes said, having overheard, “I think ‘Flopsy’ meant that he would be the one being embarrassed, not you. Though, do, by all means, continue. It’s always good to see how well a stallion can handle under pressure.”

The pleading expression on his face was nothing short of adorable, and to the giggles of those he called friends he put his mother’s scarf back on her and grabbing her suitcase sped her out the door to lead her to the bunkhouse. But just before the door shut Grapes overheard her get in one last thing.

“I LIKE her, Flopsy. She’s a keeper. I can tell.”

“MA!”

Grapes blinked, then rested her head on a forelimb, laughing. “Oh stars,” she gasped. “Don’t ANYPONY tell Applejack. She’ll be riding me about when the wedding is going to be, for MONTHS.”

The party wrapped up with an exchange of gifts. Grapes giving rather cute, and thought-out, gifts to her farmhooves. Firestormer got a planter and an array of hot pepper seeds. For Queenie, she simply hoofed over a receipt for the Summer Chapeau, marked “paid in full”. Summer Squall got a book on the history of scrimshaw carving, beautifully illustrated. The reason why Grapes got that particular book was that it included works by Squall’s father, and she thought she’d appreciate seeing Scrimshaw’s scrimshaws. Grapes gave a book on Equestrian sayings idioms and turns of phrases to Sirocco, hoping that she’d enjoy it, and it help her understand some of the more obscure ones that were still in use. Grapes gave Earshot a record of Octavia’s performances, including some remixes by her dear friend Vinyl Scratch. Grapes wasn’t about to start explaining alternative lifestyles until AFTER the “where little foals come from” talk. Stormfront found himself in possession of a nice quad of dancing slippers.

“So you can practice down to earth dancing with scuffing the floors,” Grapes explained with a grin.

“This is… this is very nice of you. I didn’t realise you remembered that stuff.”

“I have very good retention,” Grapes said with a smile. “Like I remembered that Firestormer likes hot peppers, that Queenie was still paying for her favorite hat, the name of Squall’s father, and how much Earshot likes classical music, as well as opera. I don’t think anypony can forget how much trouble Sirocco has with Equestrian idioms, though.”

“I do not make that many mistakes with my idioms, do I?” Sirocco protested before drawing herself up “I have a mind like the steel clap!”

“Steel trap, Sirocco,” Grapes corrected with a smile. “It’s ‘I have a mind like a steel trap’.”

The Saddle Arabian mare looked at the book before her and pursed her lips. “Very well… I shall make use of your gift. I am grateful. Thank you.”

“Also, you may find the origins of the sayings to be quite amusing,” Grapes added with a smile.

“Ah yes… Hm… ‘Rule of Thumb’. What IS a thumb?”

“It apparently came from creatures with prehensile digits...'fingers'...in their forehooves--dragons, diamonddogs, griffons, and minotaurs among them,” Grapes replied. “The thumb is the shortest finger placed in such a position that it can stick out....but I'm not sure how the phrase came to be in common use, though. So… Hope you all enjoy,” she added with a smile. “Just… little things to let you all know that you… You’re an important part of this vineyard, and I couldn’t do half as well without you.”

“Grapes…”

Sour Grapes looked over to where Stormfront, lifted a wing to reveal a bright green and red package hidden very well beneath it (although as far as she could tell he could hide a small community under wings like those). With a slightly embarrassed smile he passed the gift over to her and nodded.

“I figured that it being Hearth’s Warming and everything I should… you know… “

“Oh… You didn’t have to…” Grapes said, taking the box. “Though… It’s nice that you did. I mean… You know…”

Grapes opened the box and parted the tissue paper to find a tan pruning vest with beautiful yellow stitching. She lifted it from the box to see the Grapevine Hills logo on the breast pocket and… She had to blink twice more to be sure what she was seeing. A series of small but practical tools were in small pockets in the vest. They were identical to the ones she used, only the handles were a shiny white material and the metal well-polished brass. It was, in truth, the sort of thing you would wear when visiting the royal palace in Canterlot if you wanted everypony there to know you were a professional and damn good at it.

Grapes grinned. “Oh… My… GOSH! This is the most amazing thing, EVER!” she exclaimed, hugging Stormy, then impulsively giving him a rather chaste peck on the lips for good measure. “Thank you! Thank you so much. I had all but given up on Rarity… But… She was totally stalling, wasn’t she?”

“Uh… I ah…” he stammered, as she gave his brain it’s own kiss-induced momentary lapse. “YES! *Cough* I mean yes. It DID take her some time to come up with some finished ideas but when I came in and made a request, plus some ideas of my own, she was willing to take some blame for the sake of a good Hearth’s Warming Surprise. I hope you like the tools… those were my idea. That’s real Erinoid there.”

“Whoa… Really? That’s kinda rare… Ponies would rather drink their milk than make handles out of it,” Grapes said with a half-smile. “And if I had any doubts you liked me that way… This pretty much obliterates them… Erinoid’s expensive stuff…”

“A little, yeah. But in the words of mister Redline, surprisingly simple to synthesize. And before you protest, no, he was NOT the one to make it, but instead explain it. It was a nice chemist pony named Pony 238 in town who made use of that information, apparently somepony gave Redline the idea to set up shop properly and has little time for side projects like that. Saved a lot of bits having it done locally, actually. And the cow donating the milk was surprised her product could be a permanent thing of beauty.”

“May inspire more cows to donate to it,” Grapes observed with a grin. “The whole permanent thing of beauty idea may catch on… And seriously? ‘Pony 238’?”

“Yeah. It’s more of a nickname apparently. It’s the number on his chemist’s license and it’s up on his wall… and most ponies can’t read the handwriting that states his real name so…” He left a pause and shrugged to indicate how some ponies can be. “His real name is Chemical Reaction.”

“Cute,” Grapes chuckled. “Also… Thanks. Thanks again.”

“Hey, what can I say. You’re worth it. Good bosses are hard to find and good to hang onto and good friends even rarer.”

“Even when the good friend could become something a bit more than a friend?” Grapes asked with a half-grin.

“Well, time will tell, and some things are worth waiting for,” Stormfront replied.

Comments

[Jasmine Tea]

Jesus Christ thank you Kitty. I need something to distract my mind. I would kiss you right now that would be awkward not to mention unsanitary for my laptop screen.

[The Incredible Werekitty]

3937528 Uh... You're welcome. :D I, and your laptop screen, thank you, I'm sure.

[i_am_the_jam]

The kiss was worth the wait.

And I wonder why DID Twilight thought SG needed a pair of calipers...

[Vailen]

Bout time they kissed and started a relationship. I'm really liking this story and I love the fact that its following beside the cannon story arc from the show.

[SageBrony07]

YYYYYYYEEEEEESSSSS!!!!!!. They kissed. They freaking kissed. Awesome. My favorite chapter. This was so nice to read, and you got it out so quickly. (Bowing in process.) I don't know how, but wow. Just wow. I can't wait for the next chapter, but with this chapter you deserve a nice break. I loved it that Stormfront and Sour are now having everypony support there relationship. I can't wait to read there first date though. That would be funny. Also I think it would be funny if Spitfire and FireStormer had a little bit of side story, about him visiting, and them exchanging stories, or even one with Earshot's home and how they are taking his absence during the holiday season. Best of luck with the next chapter. I stayed up late reading this. All I can say is, time well spent.

[Abel DuStable]

You know, it's strange.

38 people hit the 'Like' button on this story but 6 hit the 'Dislike' one.

Am I strange that I would like to hear their reasons for doing so?

[The Incredible Werekitty]

3949648 You're not the only one. But, seriously, there are some people on here that just punch the "dislike" button on certain stories just because they dislike the particular genre, or the fact that the story is centered around an OC.

Also, I don't tag the fact that, yes, the Mane Six appear in the story. But they're not who the story is about. Just like I don't tag the story "romance" or "Comedy", or what-ever-else. I think "Slice of Life" covers the fact that it has elements of romance and comedy quite nicely. The romantic elements and the comedic elements are not the central theme of the story, and are not what the story is mainly about. Life has funny moments, romantic moments, happy moments, and sad ones. This story doesn't focus, mainly, on the happy, comedic, romantic, or sad moments. It covers them all.

Some folks, who've complained about chapter length, may think it covers them a little too well. But that's how I roll, and I'm glad I've got some loyal people who enjoy the story, and will read it, despite the longer chapters.

[BarbarianBrony]

"Understood. Sargent, see to the young mare. The rest of you, line up, single file. On the principal of the thing we're pulling out restaurants. Any complaints?" Neither Storm Riders nor Wonderbolts disagreed and as a guard assisted Grapes to a chair, a unicorn guard restrained all the wings on the brawlers. Grapes groaned, holding her head.

I think you meant restraints, but I may be wrong lol. Glad to see you're still writing.

[Fresnor]

Fully csught up now and I find this story very enjoyable. Not often someone can pull off a side story to the Mane 6 theme without really causing much of an influence on it. Also gives Ponyville more life to it by adding story beyond what is seen in the show. Though on a side note I'm really curious what will happen now when Luna meets Earshot.

[Truthseeker]

On the principal of the thing we're pulling out restaurants.

I think you mean 'restraints'.

[Carnation83]

I am LOVING the bar band having a protective wire cage during bar brawls!