My Dear Shy - Life in Equestria

by Keeper-of-Harmony

Chapter Twenty-Six

Man, a steamy shower was all I simply needed; I feel refreshed and am ready for my date with Twilight. Here I'm walking down the stairs casual-like, dressed smartly in my purple suit and pants with a smile on my face (I really have to thank my daughter for washing them yesterday). However, my smile and calm demeanor is actually a guise to hide my overwhelming anxiety.

I'm not confidently sure what I will be doing at Twilight's place other than reading, and what should I bring prior? Should I get a box of chocolates? Then what fillings would she prefer? Does she even like chocolates? Would they give her gas? Should I bring a bouquet instead? What flowers should it have? Tulips? Does Twilight even like tulips? What if she's allergic to them?

Maybe a book would be far more ideal for a gift? But what could I possibly get she doesn't already have? Even then, how can I afford any of the mentioned items without borrowing my daughter's bits?

So many damn headache-inducing questions.

I'll be explicitly honest: I haven't had an official date before. Embarrassed to admit, yes, I have had a...close interaction with a woman before, so I can say with an ounce of certainty that I have some experience with women. Disgruntedly to include, however, this woman in question was a...prostitute. Some would debate that that doesn't count as dating at a technical level, and I wholeheartedly agree.

It's not that I was curious or prurient; my foster father hired the prostitute on my eighteenth birthday, said I was a grown man and wanted me to have some "fun" in my life. I have adamantly explained it to him - ever since I turned sixteen, whenever we'd discuss relationships - I had no venereal interest in women (and men, might I earnestly add) whatsoever. He was insufferably pig-headed to listen, anyway, as he kept encouraging me to do other things I found mundane.

The rant aside, this will be my first actual date, who just happens to be a pony. A purple-furred bookworm alicorn with an aptitude for science and literature and widely known as a kook for undiscovered knowledge.

I can recall the discussion we had that mingling with species outside one's own is commonplace among their culture and society. I still view it as an anomaly, however, and it's a daunting hurdle remaining proven to be a challenge to jump over due to my stubborn prejudice. How is this pertinent and why is this being brought up again? I've no clue.

My intestines feel like they've knotted themselves in agitation, and the questions overloading my brain are compounding to the mounting anxiety. But I retain the composed facade as I resume my descent on the staircase.

When I get to the bottom, I see Dinky on the couch holding Angel, smothering him as the poor rabbit wriggles to break free fruitlessly from her inescapable grasp.

My dear Shy has finished up putting away the fruit and vegetables - the ones she bought from the marketplace - in the pantries. She then looks to me with the exact bemused expression she wore days ago, on the day of the coronation.

"If I may ask, Father, but aren't those suit and pants supposed to be the ones you brought from Earth, and weren't they originally black and grey?" Fluttershy inquires

"Yes..." I reply, my faux smile waning upon the reminder of my attire's former dull glory. "They were supposed to be black and grey."

My daughter trots up to me, brows partially narrowed. "I'm going to presume he's responsible for the color change?"

"Yes..." I repeat the same answer in a flat tone. "But it was for a good reason, Fluttershy."

She raises a brow. "What reason, exactly?"

"I begged him not to use a particular prank, and he would do so if I allowed him to change their color," I explain.

"But you loved how they initially looked, Father! Discord shouldn't have coerced you into making a decision you didn't like!" she exclaims with a stamp of her hoof, which oddly doesn't make a sound.

"Not like I had a choice," I sigh, running a palm from my forehead down to my chin. "Much as I dislike the choice of color and the stupid smiley faces, Twilight seems to be fond of them, at least."

"I still think it's wrong. Discord had no right to do that to you, Father," Fluttershy angrily says. "I will be sure he apologizes to you by the end of the day."

"Aw, you don't have to go to such lengths. It's merely a harmless prank." I snap my gaze to the cuckoo clock mounted on a wall to my left as it reads four on the nose. "Well...I should get going. I'll probably be back in a few hours. Maybe less, depending on how the date goes." I proceed walking over to the door, hand gripping on its handle.

"Um, Father," my daughter says, nodding to the coffee table where my Nike sneakers are underneath, "your shoes?"

I look at her with a spaced stare. I then look down at my socked feet to see that I have indeed forgotten to put on the shoes. Again. My cheeks burn a sheepish red as I head to the table.

"Sheesh, I can be that one-track-minded, huh?" I joke half-heartedly, snatching the Nike sneakers and putting them on.

Fluttershy angelically giggles. "Not everypony is perfect, Father," she says placatingly, sauntering up to me. "It's of the few endearing aspects that make you you."

I chuckle with a reinforced smile. "My dear Shy, it's times like this that I count myself lucky to have you as my daughter."

"And I count myself lucky to have you as my father," Fluttershy says, beaming at me.

After I get done tying the shoelaces, I turn to her and kneel on one knee, arms wide open. My daughter eagerly moves in and wraps her forehooves around my chest, or tries to as my anatomy wouldn't allow it. I close my arms around her and groom her pink tresses, nerves tingling positively by the touch. My daughter hums happily.

Eventually, we part ourselves, much as I wanted it to last a tad longer, and I believe Fluttershy wanted to, too, evident by the disappointment in her eyes.

"I want a hug, too!" Dinky cries indignantly from behind.

I stand up and spin to her. "Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about you," I say with a laugh. Dinky releases her hold on Angel and the rabbit takes the golden opportunity to hightail it out of here.

The filly balances on her hind legs on the couch's cushions, slightly wobbling while she reaches out for me.

I make two large quick steps and scoop her up in a cradling arm. With my free hand, I fold all the digits except my index finger. She stares at it, oblivious to my plan. I point it at her face and inch it closer to her snout agonizingly slow, and her eyes cross when I boop her nose. Dinky lets out a small giggle. I then use the tip of the same finger to tickle her little tummy. Dinky's cheeks puff up before bursting into a paroxysm of squeaky laughter, the kind of laugh that would melt anyone's heart if they were within earshot.

Rather ticklish, isn't she?

I do it a couple more times as I find her laugh adorably amusing. I glance back at my daughter, who is smiling wistfully at us. She must be reminiscing the times when I used to do this to her as a filly. Thinking back on it now, this also has me feeling wistful. Sure she's gotten older and has noticeably gained a few pounds. But when would that ever stop me from trying?

I give Dinky another tickle and hug her close before setting her back down on the sofa. The filly beams up at me and climbs off the couch to go search for her furry escapee.

I swivel to Fluttershy, calling her name, with a tone soft as a chinchilla's fur, and with parental authority in tandem, "My dear Shy, come here."

"But Father, don't you have to-"

"I know," I cut her off. "I'd like for you to come over here for a moment, though."

She shoots me a quizzical stare, then she nods compliantly and trots up in front of me. "Alright, Father, I'm here. What do you- Eep!"

"Upsy-daisy!" I say as I quickly bend down and pick her up by the barrel. My dear Shy instinctively curls her hooves over her chest as I stand upright and cradle her in my arms. Hoo boy, she's a mite heftier than the last time I held her. But what does it matter when one has the most beautiful creature in their arms?

I abstain from grunting as I hoist her up more until her face is close to mine, and I initiate by nuzzling her muzzle. Fluttershy makes a graceful snort, doing her best to keep herself from giggling. Hmm. Perhaps I should up the ante. And by that, I mean tickle. I simply must hear her laugh.

I carefully slide an arm out - one arm now straining to keep Fluttershy aloft - and I hover a claw-like hand just above her belly, a sly smile playing on my lips.

My daughter's eyes widen as she becomes fully aware of what I'm about to do. She opens her mouth to say something, but she then erupts into a giggling fit when I start tickling her stomach with the nails of my clawed hand. There it is. It's music to my ears to hear her sweet laughter. My fingers sort of sink into her pudgy tummy as I continue my tickly assault.

Remember when I said Dinky's laugh could melt anyone's heart? Well let me again tell you this that my daughter's laugh is so undeniably cute and graceful, I swear it can melt the iciest of icy hearts. Probably even a Windigo's. I don't care if I end up tardy on my first date with Twilight, this is just too precious. I could throw in an excuse that I got caught up in something and hope Twilight will buy it. I'll have to think up of something convinceable, is the problem.

My daughter's eyes begin to water, and her hind legs barely kick the air. Her giggles are compared to that of a drug because I am grossly addicted to them, and I simply cannot get enough of them. I have a hidden sense that many other people second the notion mutually. Any lingering worries and anxiety about the date I had then are gone without a trace and are replaced by mounting fondness and adoration. I smile a heartwarming smile at my giggling daughter.

I finally cease the tickling and pull my hand away so she can collect herself. She calms down and wipes away the waters from her eyes before nuzzling my chin. I return the kindness by nuzzling her forehead.

I lower her down afterward and glance at the cuckoo clock. Twelve past four? Meh. Not much time has been lost. Still, I can alternate between walking and jogging (mostly walking) on the way to Twilight's to make up the lost amount of time.

'And while you're on the idea, be sure to grab that map because I sure as hell don't want your dumb ass to get lost like the last time,' my brain harshly reminds.

How very thoughtful of you... I respond sarcastically.

I walk up to Fluttershy's saddlebag hanging on the hat rack stand and dig into until I grab the sought out map. "Well, I'll be going now," I say, opening the front door. I suddenly halt when my daughter gives me one last tight hug around my leg.

"Please travel safe, Father. I love you," she coos.

"I will, my dear Shy. I love you, too," I reply. With that said, as Fluttershy releases my leg, I wave goodbye to her and Dinky as I journey out the cottage and down towards Ponyville with the map in hand.

Comments

[Viper Pit]

Fluttershy eating for two huh