> After a Fashion
>  by DarkPhoenix
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Chapter 1:

Sitting in the study of his Upper Canterlot home, Fancy Pants sighed. Arrayed before him on his desk were numerous scrolls, each of them pertaining to some aspect of his business. While it was true that he could very easily retire and never work again, he enjoyed what he did—or at least—he used to.

Now it was getting harder and harder for him to concentrate. Words and orders on the scrolls melded and blended, becoming incomprehensible gibberish. Everyday the stack of scrolls requiring his attention grew higher and higher as he took longer and longer to go through them. His assistant, a lovely little earth pony named Quick Time, had started badgering him, a worried look constantly on her face.

His mind simply wasn’t in his work. Most ponies believed it was due to the recent—and highly public—split he had with Fleur de Lis, his longtime marefriend. But he barely ever  thought of her anymore. Once he had been a devoted gentle-stallion, always there for her, caring for her, and loving her. All that had changed.

The troubles between the couple had started long ago. He had met somepony else, a pony he had originally dismissed. She had bumped into him on the streets of Canterlot, a slight he was more than willing to forgive.

But then she had mentioned staying at the castle at the invitation of Princess Celestia herself. His interest piqued and knowing an opportunity when he saw one, he sought to make friends with her, since she was clearly interested in knowing him. After all, it wasn’t everyday that a pony who knew the Princess walked into his life.

He had brought her—having learned her name was Rarity—along on several little adventures, trying to impress her. Yet quite the opposite had happened; she had managed to impress him. Even when he found out that she had been not-quite-lying to him, he didn’t care.

Her beauty and grace were of another quality. The way she moved, the way she spoke... It was all so natural to her. Unlike Fleur and all the other ponies in Canterlot whose grace and beauty were artificial, her’s was different. The more he studied her throughout their meetings, the more he liked what he saw.

Fleur had noticed his wandering attentions and tried to bring him back. She had been absolutely wonderful and crazy in bed, but he couldn’t help but hope it would be somepony else. When he had cried out Rarity’s name, instead of Fleur’s, one night, Fleur had left to go sleep in one of the guest rooms, calling him all sorts of vile names.

The time had come when Rarity had to go back to her home in Ponyville. She had a business to run and her friends were all waiting for her. Fancy Pants found himself missing her as soon as the train pulled out of the station. Fleur had come along, her genial mood a mask after what had transpired between them the previous night.

Later that night, back in his mansion, Fleur had confronted him. She had said that she would forgive his little dalliance and lust over “that common mud-dwelling unicorn,” but in return he had to make sure that she got top billing in her next modeling shows. If he didn’t then she would plaster the fact that he had yelled out Rarity’s name in bed in every tabloid in Equestria.

Now to many ponies, that would have been when a couple’s relationship broke, never to be repaired. Relationships in Canterlot, especially between Upper Canterlot ponies, were different. Their relationships were built on convenience and opportunity just as much as, if not more than, love. Fleur saw him as a means to an end, and she took her opportunity when she could.

He had agreed, as a scandal like that would cause his business to take a nasty hit. Perhaps now that Rarity had gone home, he could just forget about her and move on with his life. Return to how things were.

That was not to be the case. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder” was just an old saying, it had no real meaning to Fancy Pants. Until Rarity had left. For awhile things had been good, he and Fleur had continued to be the perfect couple, and now that she was getting top billing, her modeling career was at its peak. Yet his thoughts still returned to her, and the times they had spent in each other’s company, brief though it had been.

It had all started when, a few weeks after she had left, his daily dose of newspapers arrived. He subscribed to most major publications in Equestria, the better to keep up with the major trends and important events. However, that was common practice. What he did that most others did not was that he also subscribed to a number of local papers for each of the various towns. That way he could also keep abreast of local trends and tailor his business to each market. Ponies often wondered as to the secret of his success, and that was a large part of it.

So it was that, while browsing through the newspapers, he had picked up a copy of The Ponyville Press, a bi-weekly publication in Ponyville. Sipping his morning tea, he had proceeded to spew it all over the table when the front page showed a picture of a giant dragon holding Rarity captive.

Tea dripping down his muzzle, he read the article, all about how a dragon had attacked Ponyville, captured Rarity, and then was driven off by the Elements of Harmony. The paper interviewed Rarity about her experience, along with a picture of her after the ordeal. Somehow, even after being attacked by a dragon—a dragon!—she still looked perfect. Not a hair was out of place in her mane or tail.

Seeing her again, even just a picture, brought back everything he had tried to hide, all the feelings he had for her. He took the paper to his study, spilled tea forgotten.. There he had clipped it out, hanging it on the wall, the picture of Rarity right at the forefront.

Thoughts of her entered his mind at random throughout the day. At night especially, with Fleur out late at a show, he pictured her clearly in his mind. Or as clear as he could based on the limited time together. Floating through his mind was her in various outfits, doing things like working, creating her outfits, cleaning her shop, out with her friends. No matter what he pictured, she was always the epitome of grace and beauty.

During the next several days, thoughts of her constantly entered his mind. Usually he was able to shrug it off and work, but other times, he had trouble concentrating on anything but her. He tried to figure out exactly what made her so attractive, what kept him coming back to this rarity, but he couldn’t quantify it. She just was. And he just did.

Fleur had come back and seen the article in his study. When she questioned him about it, he had quickly explained that a dragon attacking Ponyville had sparked an idea in him. The article was there to remind him. She had nodded and accepted the explanation. In order to prevent something like that from happening again, he had subtly manipulated the hanging, making it seem like the dragon was the focus, but instead all the differing elements making it up, when viewed from his chair, pointed unneringly towards Rarity.

True to his word, he had designed and released a line of products in Ponyville with fire-resistant enchantments woven into them. The panic over the dragon attack was still high, so he had trouble keeping them on the shelves. The extra income was welcome, certainly, but it wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted her, his Rarity.

Weeks turned into months, and his longing for Rarity only increased. He had taken to tracking down and collectiing anything he could that mentioned her. A line of correspondence opened up between the two of them, mailing letters back and forth, something that had been a total shock to her when he had mailed her out of the blue. But he had to hear from her, somehow, and if he couldn’t hear from her directly, then indirectly via mail would have to suffice. They spoke of general things, how their businesses were going, their lives, etc. Never did he ever mention what he was feeling for her.

To keep Fleur from finding his collection, he had hired a contractor when she was out for two weeks to Manehatten to section off part of his office, creating another room. He had also paid for not only a secret door, one which was invisible on the outside, but for the contractor’s silence as well.

Inside his new room he had brought all of the things he had collected on Rarity and arranged them. The walls were soon plastered with newspaper clippings, pages torn out of books, her letters to him—anything he could find. He spent a good deal of time and money finding old newspapers that had her in them. He even found out where she had attended school and purchased copies of her old yearbooks, mounting those photos up there as well. The room was entirely dedicated to one pony: Rarity.

His relationship with Fleur went downhill even quicker after that. She noticed his absent thoughts and tried to bring him back around. This time he was careful to not clue her into why, precisely, his mind wasn’t into it anymore. He cited work issues, though that excuse fell flat when his quarterly report came in and his business had grown by ten percent.

Soon, he wasn’t even giving her excuses anymore. She was staying out late and coming home with random stallions sometimes, but he didn’t care. He knew that she was just trying to spite him, to get him to see what he was missing out on.

The final straw in their relationship, if it could even be called that anymore, came when Fleur had found his secret room. He had entered his study, looking around to make sure that nopony was around. As soon as he was inside, the door securely closed, he saw her.

She was standing in the room, her mouth hanging open as she looked around at everything. When the door closed, her gaze snapped to him, a fire in her eyes. “What is this?” she had asked, each word bitten off..

He floundered, unable to think of anything to say in his own defense. She would’ve found out sooner or later, he just wished it hadn’t been like this. He wanted to spare her from seeing this. Instead, his head sank lower until his eyes met the floor, unable to stand against her.

She kicked open the door to the room, turning to leave while yelling and screaming as loud as she could, calling him worthless and pathetic and any other thing she could think of. Rather than leave, she had ignited her horn, papers, clippings, photos, all were ripped off the walls and tossed around.

She had marched out of the room, still yelling. He had followed, his body simply moving along. Into their bedroom she had gone, her magic pulling out all of her stuff and packing it quickly into suitcases.

Finally, she had stopped yelling and simply left. He had sat in the doorway to his mansion, watch her leave, her bags floating along in her magic behind her.

When she was gone, he turned around, closed the door and made his way back up to the study. There he had quietly picked up everything she had tossed around, repairing as best he could the things that had been torn, and replacing everything back on the walls.

The next day, news about the fight and break-up between him and Fleur was in the Canterlot papers. It seemed a papparazzi had been lurking around, hoping to catch a story. Thanks to Fleur’s loudness, and some open windows, he had gotten just that and more. Fleur had never yelled precisely why she was leaving him, so the article was full of rampant speculation.

Other tabloids picked up the story and ran with it, adding their own twists to the rumors. Some called him out for cheating on Fleur, others said he was beating her, pointing to supposed marks on her body during a show. The only common thread was that he was being made out to be a monster and she the victim, which was probably why she never went to the tabloids herself to tell them the truth, as her career was getting a massive boost over this, while his business took a hit.

Three days after the story first hit the papers, Fancy Pants was in a good mood, despite recent happenings. Last night, he had come to a realization: he was now free. Free to pursue Rarity. Already he was planning out the letter he was going to send her.

There was a knock on the door, the mailpony saying it was her and not another reporter. He opened it, gathering his mail with a smile and a thanks. Most of it was junk, but there was also a letter from Rarity.

He tore open the envelope, pulling out the paper. After the standard greetings between them, she wrote something which tore his heart out of his chest and stomped on it.

Fancy Pants, oh, I don’t know how to say this, so I shall just come right out and say it: As you know, I’ve been seeing this wonderful gentle-stallion and just last night he asked for my hoof in marriage! Once I got over the shock, I said yes. Can you believe it? I, Rarity, am going to be getting married!

He read through that last line again, just to make sure he didn’t misread it.

...asked for my hoof in marriage!

...hoof in marriage!

...marriage!

...I said yes.

...yes.

He dropped the letter, not even bothering to read the rest of it. Another, smaller piece of paper fell out, but he ignored that too.

Rarity. Was getting married. He had known she was dating somepony; she had shared as much in her letters. But he didn’t know they were that close. Now his beloved Rarity, the mare that encompassed his every waking thought, was getting married to another pony.

His brain stopped, shutting down. He couldn’t think about anything other than what he had just read. The words, written in her usual loopy handwriting, were plastered in his vision. When his eyes were open, he could see them, floating, dancing around in front of him, taunting him. With his eyes closed, they just became all the more prominent.

He felt sick and rushed into the bathroom. Hovering over the toilet, his stomach emptied itself of his breakfast. The sour taste of oatmeal and bile filled his mouth as he heaved.

When there was nothing left but dry-heaves, he lay his head on the seat, uncaring about anything. What was the point? Without Rarity in his life, there wasn’t one. His life had lost all meaning with one simple phrase written on a piece of paper.

Another knock on the door garnered his attention. A female voice came through the door, faintly. It was a courier with an urgent delivery for him from a Rarity.

The mention of her name brought him back. He sat up, looking at himself in the mirror. His mane was a mess, his breath stank of vomit, and he looked terrible.

He stuck his head out of the bathroom, yelling out so the courier could hear him, asking her to wait in the foyer. Quickly he splashed some water on his face and gargled mouthwash. It was crude but effective, and it only had to last until the courier left.

He arrived in the foyer looking much like he always did: composed and professional. The courier, a pegasus, was admiring one of his paintings. She looked up at his hoofsteps.

The process of handing over the package was quick and painless; he simply signed for it and she went on her way. The package itself was small and light. Glancing at the label, he noticed she had paid quite well to get this to him as quickly as possible. So he wondered what it could be.

He tore it open, finding a hastily written letter.

Fancy Pants,

I have just received the news about what happened between you and Fleur. You have my deepest condolences. Fear not, for I know those tabloids are printing nothing but lies about you. You are a wonderful stallion.

In truth, before I heard the news, I’m afraid I sent you a letter which, in light of recent events, may be received as insensitive. I do so hope this package reaches you before the letter so that I can explain to you that I sent that letter prior to knowing what transpired between you and Fleur. Please, don’t think any less of me.

On the off chance that I do offend you, please accept my deepest apologies. To make it up to you, should you ever need to get away from Canterlot in these trying times, know that you are very welcome to stay with me at Carousel Boutique. It may not be the fanciest, but you shouldn’t be bothered here by any media. Ponyville is a small town and they won’t think to look for you here.

Once more, you have my condolences.

Rarity

He wasn’t sure what he had been hoping was in the package, but this wasn’t it. Maybe he had wanted to hear from her how her stallion had cheated on her and they had broken up, calling off the wedding. That would be the best possible news. Instead, all he got was an apology letter and an open invitation to visit her. If he had gotten this letter first, he would probably already be on his way to Ponyville, thoughts of making Rarity his consuming him.

He took the letter back into the kitchen, where her first letter still sat on the floor. Idly, looking for something, anything, to do, he picked it up, setting it on the table. The little scrap of paper caught his eye.

Picking it up, he realized it was a photo. Rarity occasionally sent photos along, mostly of her designs, asking his opinion on them. Though occasionally she sent one of herself, often with her friends. This one showed her standing with another pony, a little filly. The two of them were proudly holding up silver medals. Rarity was covered in mud, straw, dirt, and other detritus, but she was still smiling happily.

Curious, he picked up her letter again to see if there was an explanation for her usual self actually being happy at getting that dirty. Skipping over what he had already read, and not wanting to read it again, he read on.

She mentioned several other things, mostly inconsequential. Towards the end, she spoke about an event her friend Applejack had put on, the Sisterhooves Social. She related how she had fought with her own sister, Sweetie Belle, but how she had tricked her and together they had placed second in the race.

Despite his mood, he couldn’t help but smile at the way she described the race and everything she had to do. It was no wonder she was so dirty in the end. He glanced again at the picture. She had mentioned her sister before, but he’d never seen a picture of her.

It wasn’t the best photo, but he could see where they were related. Sweetie had the same white coat as Rarity, and her mane looked like it had much the same quality that Rarity’s did. 

Squinting, he glanced even closer, trying to pick out the similarities between them. They had roughly the same build, though Sweetie was, of course, smaller. The more he looked, the more and more similar they seemed.

It was almost as if Sweetie Belle was a miniature Rarity.

He tried to imagine that in his head. Bringing up Sweetie Belle in his mind, he replaced her mane with Rarity’s, added some eye shadow, and made the look on her face a rather sultry one.

The resemblance to the pictures of Rarity as a little filly he had dug up were startling. His original thought of the filly being simply her older sister in miniature were closer than even he thought possible.

No sooner had he thought that, than his brain latched onto it. Sweetie Belle was Rarity. Rarity was Sweetie Belle. They were the same.

Gasping, he raced out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and into his study. Throwing open the door to his secret room, he rushed inside. There, he pulled down every single picture he had of Rarity, stacking them up on the floor.

Giving each one a quick glance, he sorted them into two piles, one of them much larger than the other. As soon as he was done, the larger pile was tossed out the door, photos scattering all over his office.

He pulled the smaller pile closer, looking at each one in depth. There, hidden somewhere in each picture was Sweetie Belle. She was always in the background or off to one side; he found her mostly in group shots, but she was there. Usually she was playing with two other foals or sitting off to the side. All of these were pictures he had tracked down from other sources, newspapers and the like. The focus of each shot was usually one of the Elements, or them as a whole, though each one had a common thread: Sweetie Belle.

Seeing her in all these shots where only Rarity had stood out to him, he studied her. Even when she was sitting still, or playing with her friends, she showed the same grace and beauty that Rarity did. True, it was unrefined, but it was there. It was natural, just like Rarity’s. And just like Rarity, Sweetie Belle was beautiful.

He arrayed the photos in front of him, arranging them so that wherever Sweetie was, she was the focus. Gazing at them, he felt a thought enter his mind.

Rarity was gone, she had given her heart to somepony else. But there was another, another Rarity. This one was ripe for the taking, could be molded into whatever he chose. He could still have his Rarity.

For the first time since this morning, a smile crept its way onto his face. Yes, that was perfect. He could still have Rarity, he would just have to work for it. He didn’t mind, though.

Leaving the photos sitting on the floor, he left the room, closing the door behind him. Numerous photos covered his office from where he had thrown them. He collected them, then shoved them into the closet, his disinterest clear.

First things first, he had a letter to write. Grabbing a quill, ink, and a fresh scroll, he sat at his desk.

Rarity,

Thank you for your kind letter regarding recent events. Your words, as always, are much appreciated. I, unfortunately, did receive your letter regarding your own happy announcement first, though the package arrived soon after.

Congratulations on your engagement! And fear not, for your words were not received with ill intent. Things had been going poorly between Fleur and I for awhile now, what happened was inevitable. I have gotten over it, even if those cursed media ponies have not.

You are right, and I do need some time away from Canterlot. It is with that in mind that I would like to accept your offer to stay at Carousel Boutique. I will be sending this via courier today, making sure it arrives tomorrow. By the time you are reading this, I should already be on my way. No sense in delaying, after all.

Thank you for your generous offer.

Fancy Pants

He double-checked the letter, making sure everything was in order, before casting a quick spell that dried the ink, then rolled it up and sealed it. He would have to leave his mansion in order to get to a courier’s office, but it was worth it.

Leaving his study behind, he headed to his bedroom. Quickly and efficiently, he managed to make himself look presentable for a public appearance. His usual jacket, tie, and monocle in place, he took the scroll and left.

Walking through the streets of Upper Canterlot was always a bit uncomfortable to him. Most ponies knew who he was, so he received stares. Today, ponies were staring, only differently. This was his first time in public since Fleur had left, and because of the rumors, all the ponies’ stares were full of either scorn or pity.

He ignored them and the hushed whispers that greeted his passing, his mind focused on the task at hand. The courier’s office was only a few blocks away.

Entering the office, he found a bored looking stallion working the counter. At the sound of the bell over the door, the stallion looked up, then did a double-take.

“Mr. Fancy Pants, what brings you here?” the stallion greeted.

He presented the letter to the stallion. “I need this sent to Rarity in Ponyville. Get it there by early morning tomorrow.”

The stallion’s jaw dropped. “But, sir, in order to get it there in that time, one of our pegasi would have to fly through the night. I’m afraid that—”

        Fancy Pants dropped a bag of bits onto the counter, the purse opening and spilled the golden coins out. Upon seeing just how many coins were in there, the stallion’s eyes matched his jaw.

“I assume this is enough?”

The stallion nodded. “Yes, I think it is.” He turned and called over his shoulder. “Wind Whistler, get in here.”

A pegasus mare came into the room; Fancy Pants recognized her as the same one who brought him his package this morning. “Yeah, what is it?” she asked. Her eyes caught sight of Fancy Pants, then slowly moved to the large pile of bits on the counter. Excitement flashed across her face.

The stallion handed the scroll to the mare. “Take this to Ponyville. Make sure it gets to Rarity by early morning.”

Wind glanced at the letter, then at Fancy Pants, then at the pile of coins. Fancy Pants could sense that even with that amount of money, she was hesitant.

“Wind Whistler, is it?” he asked. When she nodded, he pulled out another bag of bits, this one smaller than the first one, but still considerable. He tossed it to her. Her reflexes kicked in and she caught it with a wing. “Consider that a tip for services rendered. Promptly.”

Her eyes floated back and forth between the bags of coins, her mind working. Fancy knew that she was adding things up. Between the two bags, there was probably more money on the counter than she would make as a courier in a year.

Without a word, she went into the back of the store, reappearing a moment later wearing a pair of saddlebags. She tucked the scroll into the bags. “I’ll get it there, sir,” she said.

Right before she was going to leave, a tug with Fancy’s magic stopped her. Pulling out two more, even smaller bags, he tossed one to each pony.

“What’s this for?” she asked.

Fixing them each with a harsh glare, feeling them wilt under it, Fancy spoke. “Your silence.”

With shaky nods at him, both ponies acknowledged. “Yes, sir!” they said.

Fancy nodded at them both. The mare took this as her signal. Returning his nod, she stepped out of the office. Flaring her wings, she took off into the sky

“Will that be all?” the stallion asked.

Fancy shook his head. “No, thank you.” He left the office, heading back home. Now that the letter had been sent, he felt joyous. His plan was being put into action.

Arriving home with a spring in his step, he headed into the bedroom. Within a matter of minutes, he had his bags packed for an extended stay in Ponyville. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he knew it was too late to grab a train. The last one would leave the station in five minutes, and not even he could hold it long enough for him to get there.

That didn’t matter though, he still needed to allow the letter time to arrive. He would just have to take the first train out in the morning; that would put him in Ponyville around dinnertime, plenty of time for Rarity to prepare for his arrival.

He lay in bed, grabbing the book he was in the middle of off of his nightstand. Flipping through it to find his place, he tried to pass the time. It was far too early to sleep—not that he was certain he could tonight anyway. Anxiety filled him at was was to come.

Soon, soon he would be in Ponyville, where his dream of finally having Rarity would come true. After a fashion.


> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Chapter 2: Arrival

Fancy Pants stepped onto the Ponyville train station platform. Several bags were levitating behind him, though he paid them little mind. Instead, he moved through the small crowd of traveling ponies towards the exit, towards the town proper.

His eyes scanned everything as he walked. He’d never been to Ponyville before, so it was truly interesting to see it for real and not just a picture. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the street. For a smaller town, there were a few ponies milling about, though unlike Canterlot most all of them were not wearing clothes.

The buildings were simple in design, mostly thatched roof, wood walls and doors with painted simple colors. Though there was one building that looked quite different, like a gingerbread house come to life. If memory served from Rarity’s letters, that would be Sugarcube Corner, where her friend Pinkie Pie worked.

Glancing around some more, he saw several other things he recognized either through the letters, or his own research into business ventures. Yet despite his knowledge, he was forced to accept a conclusion: he had no idea where to go. Carousel Boutique existed, but from where he was, he couldn’t see it.

As much as he hated the idea, he had to ask somepony for directions. Looking around, he spotted a grey pegasus mare coming down the street towards him. Her eyes were closed and she appeared to be humming to herself.

Fancy waited until she was closer, before clearing his throat. “Excuse me.”

She stopped, her eyes opening as she looked around. After a moment, her slightly lopsided gaze fell upon his shoulder and she smiled. “Yes? Can I help you?”

It was unnerving, her gaze. Despite her facing him directly, she seemed to be looking not at his face, but past it, off over his shoulder somewhere. Combined with her smile, it sent a shudder up his spine. Maybe asking her for directions wasn’t the best idea.

Checking around, he couldn’t see anypony else nearby. It was either ask the mare, or wander around lost until he found another pony, or stumbled across the Boutique by chance. He chose the lesser of the two evils.

“I hope you can,” he replied. “I’m trying to find Carousel Boutique.” He hoped he didn’t have to explain further, as he wasn’t sure how he could other than to start describing what the building looked like. Surely this pony would know where the shop is just by its name.

Her face scrunched up, her tongue poking out slightly as she thought. For a solid few moments, she didn’t move a muscle. Fancy was afraid she was going to hurt herself and was about to withdraw his question, when she spoke up.

“You want to go down this street here,” she pointed with her hoof behind Fancy. “Take the second left past Sugarcube Corner, then the first right after that. Carousel Boutique is down at the end of the lane.” The smile returned to her face.

Those were remarkably detailed directions, far more than he expected from the mare with a bubble cutie mark. Of course, that was assuming they were correct. She could’ve just told him anything.

“Thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome! Is there anything else?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Okay. Have a great stay in Ponyville!” With a flap of her wings, she hopped forward a short distance, then resumed her walk, once more humming to herself.

Watching her walk away, Fancy shook his head. She must have noticed the pile of luggage behind him, not that it was being hidden in any way. A pony wandering around carrying suitcases was probably not a usual sight in Ponyville. Yet another reason he felt like getting off the street as quickly as possible. One of the reasons he was here was to lay low, and drawing attention to himself was the exact opposite of that.

Sighing, he turned around and followed the mare. Hopefully she actually gave him good directions. He didn’t want to be lost in such a small town.

The streets were emptying out, most ponies inside eating dinner. Just the thought of food made his stomach rumble. He’d been so excited this morning that he barely ate anything, and the food on the train looked... less than pleasant. Rarity should have gotten his letter, he’d certainly paid well enough for that, so with luck she would have dinner ready by the time he got there.

Following the mare’s directions, he was genuinely surprised to see the familiar building at the end of the lane. So she had given him good directions after all.

Carousel Boutique stood out from the buildings around it through sheer architecture. Even if he didn’t know what the building was called, he could probably guess. Somehow, it should seem garish, but it actually worked. The colors didn’t clash and everything flowed well. He’d have to ask Rarity if she had built it, bought it, or upgraded an existing building.

The door was shut and the sign in the front window said ‘CLOSED,’ but the lights were on inside. However, that didn’t stop him from knocking on the door, three simple knocks.

Dropping his hoof back to the ground, he waited. Ears perked, he listened for any sound of movement inside. This was it, this was the moment when he would get to meet her. And see Rarity again, of course.

A slight commotion came from inside. The sound of somepony being a bit too hasty in what they were doing. The sound of hoofsteps slipped under the door, reaching his ears. Somepony was coming to the door.

The door opened to reveal Rarity standing there. As always, she looked immaculate. Her mane was perfectly styled and not a hair seemed out of place. The usual shade of eyeshadow was, as always, there. Yet, it was understated, drawing attention to the eye. Seeing her again after so long apart, reminded him of why he’d fallen for her in the first place.

But no matter how much he may want her, she was no longer available. Instead, he was simply right back to where he’d been all along: watching her from afar. Which begged the question, why was he here? 

Rarity wasn’t and could never be his. Had he come all this way on a fool’s errand? No. No he hadn’t. He was here to have his Rarity, after a fashion.

“Oh, Fancy Pants,” she said. “Please, come inside.” She stepped aside, ushering him into her store and home. With a quick burst of her azure magic, she shut the door behind him.

Fancy had heard many things about this store, both from Rarity’s letters, and during the course of business. Even if she didn’t quite know it, Rarity’s name was brought up at times in Canterlot. Ponies there were starting to take notice of her and her designs.

At first glance, it looked much like any other fashion store. The inside was decorated in soft purples, mixed with reds and golds. Ponyquines lined the walls, displaying the latest fashions and trends. Off to one side, there was a raised platform with a tri-fold mirror, allowing for a customer to see themselves in an outfit, or for Rarity to take measurements for a custom order. The whole store was clean, not a scrap of fabric on the floor. She must have a workshop room somewhere.

“Please, follow me,” Rarity said, interrupting his musings over her shop. “You can set your bags down here.”

Floating the bags to the indicated spot, he set them down, forming a nice, neat pile. He followed her as she led him across the shop and through another door. Within moments, he was seated at a table in the kitchen.

“May I get you anything? Some tea, coffee, water?”

Fancy spoke for the first time since arriving. “Tea would be wonderful, thank you.”

She nodded, turning to the counter. Using her magic, she filled a kettle with water and set it on the stove to heat up. While she did so, she spoke.

“I must say, it’s good to see you again. I only wish it were under better circumstances. When I read about you and Fleur, I could scarcely believe it. The two of you seemed like such a perfect couple.” She seemed to realize what she was saying, as she stopped.

The kettle was on the stove, so she came up to the table. “I’m sorry. Everything must still be so fresh for you and here I am, rattling on about it.”

He couldn’t help it, the way she was looking up at him, he chuckled. “My dear Rarity. I’ve always admired the fact that you speak your mind, regardless of the situation. Fleur and I had been having trouble for a long time prior to the breakup.”

Without any warning, she reached out and and pulled him tight against her. For a frail looking thing, she was surprisingly strong. To be enfolded into her hooves, her pleasant scent washing over him, her soft coat pressed against his, how many nights had he fallen asleep imagining this very thing?

There was no thinking about it, he gave in immediately to the embrace. His own hooves wrapped around her neck, drawing them just that little bit closer. Her cheek was pressed against his chest, her breaths ruffling his coat, tickling him ever so slightly. His own head he rested on hers, being careful to not mess up her mane.

They stayed connected for a while. He most certainly wasn’t going to complain. His dreams, his thoughts, had been filled, consumed with being here, in this exact spot. Now that he had it, he wasn’t going to let it go.

Her touch was so soft, yet her presence so reassuring. She was what he wanted, what he needed. No more would he have to imagine or wonder what this would be like. Now he could simply remember.

She shifted, indicating her desire to pull apart. Reluctantly, he allowed her to leave. Sitting on the floor, she looked up at him. “As I said, you are more than welcome here.” The kettle on the stove let out a shrill whistle. Even as she moved to take care of it, she continued speaking. “I do admit, when I extended the invitation I didn’t expect such an immediate response.”

“The timing was right,” he said. “I’ve been sorely needing a vacation since even before the problems between Fleur and I. I hope I didn’t cause you too much strain?”

“Oh, no!” The way in which she shook her head, and agreed too quickly, meant she was lying. But he was willing to let it slide. After all, she was doing him a bigger favor than she’d ever know. He could let a transgression such as a small lie pass.

“I’m glad. Though if I may be blunt, I’ve been traveling all day and am quite famished. You wouldn’t happen to have anything to eat, would you?”

With two cups of steaming tea in her magical grasp, Rarity approached the table once more. She set the cups down, taking a seat across the table from him. “Well, my sister, Sweetie Belle, I’ve mentioned her to you before, yes?” At his nod, she continued. “She’s out with her friends right now, though she’ll be back later. I was just going to go out to eat tonight. I’m afraid that even after your letter I simply haven’t had the time to prepare anything. I hope you don’t mind.”

He couldn’t help the brief disappointment he felt at the mention of Sweetie Belle not being here. She was the reason he had come all this way. But, Rarity did say that she would be along later. All he had to do was wait, which is certainly something he had expected to be doing a lot of in the near future.

“No, I don’t mind at all. Where do you suggest we eat?”

She favored him with a smile. Her smile still sent shivers up his spine. It was so perfect, so lovely. Everything about it complimented her natural grace and beauty. And unlike those ponies up in Canterlot who practiced and forced their smiles, hers spoke of simply being hers.

“I took the liberty of placing an order with a restaurant already. I ordered enough for both you and I. It should be here soon.”

Taking a sip of his tea, he nodded. “Sounds delightful.” The tea was good. It was something sweet, with a hint of spice to it. He’d have to ask her what it was.

“I do apologize for not meeting you at the station. I simply lost track of time.” She sipped her own tea; a simple lifting motion, ending with it being gently placed on the table. The entire process happened in silence, an ability most ponies he knew would love to have.

“It’s alright. I was able to find this place easily enough. There was one mare was kind enough to give me directions.”

She perked up. “Oh? What did she look like?”

A hoof to his chin, he thought. “She was a grey pegasus with bubbles for a cutie mark. I do believe I never got her name.”

Rarity giggled. “You certainly picked the right pony to ask. That’s Ditzy, our resident mailmare. She knows where everypony in Ponyville lives.”

That simple-minded pony was a mailmare? The thought surprised him. He’d just brushed her off as being odd, somepony the town tolerated. Certainly Canterlot had its share of ponies like her, though they were mostly kept hidden inside. Perhaps there was more to Derpy than he first thought, if she was in fact a competent mailmare. Unless she wasn’t and was simply given the job as placation by the town.

They sat and chatted for a bit, sipping their tea. Most of the conversation was geared toward how their respective businesses were doing. Rarity told him how some of her designs had recently been picked up in other markets, including Manehatten. 

He congratulated her. Breaking into the market of a large city like that is no easy feat. She had her hoof in the door, all she needed to do was muscle her way in.

She asked how his business was going, and he admitted that with all the rumors flying around, he expected sales to take a dive for a few weeks. Prior to that, it had been steadily growing, so a small dip was something he could easily weather.

“And what about now?” she asked. “I can’t imagine you’ve had time to really prepare your business before leaving here.” She glanced over towards where his bags lay in the other room. “Surely you didn’t bring any work with you?”

“No, I did not. I left a very detailed letter for my assistant, Quick Time. She’s been invaluable to me in the past. I’m sure she can handle things for as long as I’m away.”

There was a knock on the door, interrupting whatever Rarity was about to say. With an apologetic glance, she went and answered the door, leaving him alone in her kitchen. He sipped his tea, waiting for her return.

She reappeared, two bags hovering beside her. She set one down in front of him, placing the other in front of herself as she sat down on the chair. “I wasn’t entirely sure what you wanted, or liked, so I just got a simple salad.”

He pulled the container out of the bag, revealing a wonderful looking bed of greens with some mixed vegetables. “It looks delicious,” he assured her.

With the aid of a fork provided by her, he ate what was truly a great salad. The greens were fresh and dressed perfectly, just perfectly.. The vegetables were crisp and flavorful, far different from the produce available in Canterlot. There were a few advantages to living in a small community like this, and fresh food was one of them.

Little was said over dinner, instead they concentrated on eating. Fancy did take a moment to compliment the ingredients, as well as the pony who put them together. Normally that would be a simple platitude, something to appease the ego of whoever was working at the restaurant. This time, however, he meant it.

With the meal cleaned up and put away, they retired to a small sitting room just off the main store. It was interesting to see such a fusion of home and business. In Canterlot, ponies would often live above their shops, but there was a clear distinction between them. Here, the lines were blurred as to what was the shop and what was her home. He could easily imagine customers sitting in here, waiting on their orders to be completed, or Rarity lounging on the couch after a hard day’s work.

They sat on the couch, keeping a respectable distance between them. Rarity was the one who spoke first. “I don’t mean to be rude, but how long are you planning on staying? Not that you aren’t welcome or anythingl, just that I need to plan and prepare.”

That was a good question. How long was he planning on staying? He’d been so overcome with the idea of simply getting out here that he’d spared nary a thought for anything after that. He had packed for an extended stay, just in case.

What were his goals in coming here? Obviously he had his long-term goal involving Sweetie Belle, but to expect something like that to happen in a single stay was unwise. In the short-term, he needed a goal, something to strive for and an excuse to be here.

“Well, I hadn’t really thought about it,” he admitted. “Your invitation simply seemed too good to pass up.” He thought for a moment. “I suppose a week or so. Give the rumor mill time to latch on to something else.”

She brightened up. “Excellent! That’s wonderful. Oh I do so hope you’ll enjoy your stay here in Ponyville. And don’t be afraid to get out on the town. I doubt many ponies here will recognize you, and even if they do, they know how to keep a secret.” She placed a hoof on her own chest. “After all, my friends and I are something of celebrities ourselves, yet we lead fairly normal lives here.”

“Thank you for your kind offer to share in your home.”

“Think nothing of it. It’s the least I could do for a friend in dire straits.”

Friend. How he loathed that word in these circumstances. Usually hearing it said with such meaning behind it would be refreshing. But here, it was disheartening. Seeing her, hearing her musical voice, feeling her touch again only brought back all of his longing for her a thousand-fold. He wanted to move close to her, wrap his hooves around her and draw her into him. He wanted to claim her lips with his, to tell her how much he wanted her.

Instead, he took another sip of his tea, which had been refilled after dinner. “So, has anything exciting happened around here recently?”

“Well, it wasn’t around here per say, but my friends and I did recently go to Dodge Junction to track down a rather stubborn pony.” She launched into the tale, about going to find their friend, then trying to convince her to come home. When she got to the chase across the desert, Fancy couldn’t help himself. He laughed.

“It’s not funny!” she protested. “There was dust everywhere and the others just left me behind. I had to suffer through a hoofcart ride with Pinkie Pie debating on chimmicherry or cherrychanga the entire way.”

That only made him laugh harder, doubling over. Thankfully, he had placed his teacup safely on the table before it was in danger of spilling. His cheeks turned red and he had trouble getting a breath.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to wheeze out between laughing fits.

She tried to look miffed, but it was ruined by the large smile on her muzzle. Soon she herself was sharing a giggle with him.

“I suppose it is funny, looking back. Though Rainbow may not think so, not when she had to pay me back for ditching me.”

Fancy raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what did you make her do?”

Her smile turned slightly evil. “Let’s just say that my ponyquines got to take a break for a while.”

“Hmm, you made her wear outfits?”

She nodded. “And show them off to potential customers. She hates dresses and frilly things.”

“Well she did leave you stranded in the desert, amongst all the dust and heat, so I imagine that couldn’t have been pleasant. It’s all fair that you put her through something she doesn’t like in return.”

“Well, I may have taken it a bit too far, but we did smooth things over.”

“That’s—” He was interrupted by the sound of the front door violently swinging open and colliding with the wall.

“Rarity,” a voice squeaked out. “I’m home!”

Rarity sighed. “And that would be Sweetie Belle. Would you like to meet her now?”

He froze. Now that the opportunity to meet the one he had come all this way for was here, he wasn’t sure what to do. So far he’d only ever seen pictures of her, and now he had heard her voice. It wasn’t as musical as Rarity’s. In fact, just those three words were rather... grating.

Did he want to meet her? What if she wasn’t what he was expecting? Throughout last night he had built up this image of her in his mind. Would meeting her shatter that image?

In business, he’d never been one to think about things for too long. Doing so could cause you to lose out on many opportunities. It was a risky way of doing things, but it had paid out for him so far. Perhaps it was time to approach this similar to that. He should just jump in hooves first and worry about swimming later.

“Of course. I’d love to meet her.” He got off the couch, following the unicorn out into the main room.

The door was still open, spilling the overhead light out into the nighttime streets of Ponyville. Currently occupied with removing a pair of saddlebags, struggling with one of the straps, was Sweetie Belle.

She looked just like the pictures of her, which made sense. Her coat was a similar shade of white as Rarity’s. Her mane was styled in curls, just like Rarity. Though unlike her older sister, Sweetie’s mane had two colors in it. From where he stood, he could see her eyes, scrunched though they were in fighting with the strap of her saddlebag. They were a lovely green color.

Finally she managed to undo the strap and get the bags off. It was only then did she notice she had an audience. “Hi Rarity!” she said. She hopped over to them, exuberance evident in her every step. Without pausing, she hugged Rarity, who patted her head with a hoof. When she pulled out of the hug, she turned to regard Fancy. “Who’s this?”

He hadn’t been wrong, her voice was an odd mixture of squeaks and normalcy. It was like she was breaking her voice. An analogy that worked, given her apparent age.

“This is Fancy Pants. He’s visiting from Canterlot and will be staying with us for a bit.”

Fancy nodded at the introduction. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held out a hoof. This would be a good, simple test to see what all she knew.

Sweetie reached out and took his hoof in hers, giving it a gentle shake. “I’m Sweetie Belle. It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.” She sounded like she was reciting that from memory, but she at least knew of what was proper and expected in this situation. That’s good. It meant he wouldn’t be starting entirely from scratch.

From the look on Rarity’s face, she was alternating between proud of her sister, and shocked that she’d gotten it right. Fancy could only assume that she’d been coaching Sweetie.

“I like your monocle,” Sweetie said.

“Why, thank you.” In truth, he only wore it because it was part of his image. It was irritating and messed with his vision, even though the lens in it did absolutely nothing. He loved to take the thing off whenever he could. Perhaps since he was here in Ponyville incognito he could get away with not wearing it.

In fact, it may be best if he did away with wearing his usual attire entirely. Nopony around here wore clothes, so if he wanted to blend in, he’d best join them. Thinking about it as tailoring his business to the local market helped. That and the idea of being free in such a way intrigued him.

“I don’t even have to ask if you’ve eaten, Sweetie.”

The filly nodded. “Uh huh! We had apple pie and apple cobbler and apple tarts and—”

“Yes, yes. I’m sure it was all delicious.” She scooted Sweetie across the carpet with her magic. “Now run along upstairs and get ready for bed.”

“Aw, but Rarity! I’m not even tired.” Fancy had to admit that the filly could pull off quite the pout. Her muzzle turned downwards, a shimmer coming to her eye. It was adorable, and a potent weapon in the arsenal of any lady.

Unfortunately, Rarity seemed immune to its effects. “No buts. Now go on.”

Still protesting, Sweetie stood up and walked up the stairs. Fancy watched her walk, trying to gauge her movement. She was uncoordinated, almost like she lacked proper control of her limbs. Not very surprising at her age. A closer inspection and he was able to pick up a hint of natural grace underneath it. With just a little bit of training, she had the potential to become almost as natural as her sister.

Sweetie vanished up the stairs, her white rump and dual-colored tail leaving his sight last. He continued to stare at where she’d been, replaying the last few moments in his mind, analyzing them for anything he could find.

“Oh, how rude of me,” Rarity’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “You must be exhausted after a day of travel. I’ll show you to your room.” She picked up his bags with her magic, starting up the stairs. 

“Oh, please, allow me,” he said. “A lady shouldn’t be carrying the bags of a gentlestallion.”

“But as the hostess, I must take care of my guest,” she countered, never even slowing down.

There would be no sense in arguing with her. She had her mind made up and was quite stubborn. Instead all he could do was follow her up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, there was a hallway with several doors leading off of it, three on one side and two on the other. Rarity led him down the hall, pointing out doors as she went.

“On the right we have my workshop, then my bedroom. On the other side is Sweetie’s room, the bathroom, and the guest room, which is now your room.”

Opening the door to the guest room, she led him inside. It was a simple room. A bed was against the wall by the door. A single nightstand stood next to it, a lamp perched on it. Across from the bed, and under a window, was a chest of drawers. A standing mirror stood next to another door which he could only assume was a closet. Other than that, there was only a single chair sitting in the corner.

“I’m afraid it’s not much, but I very rarely have guests.”

“It’s wonderful, Rarity.” He sat on the bed, testing its softness. Despite the bare bones look, it was surprisingly comfortable. “Thank you, again, for opening your home to me.”

She blushed. “Oh think nothing of it.” She came forward and gave him another, brief hug. “As I said, you’re a friend, so if I can help you in any way, I will.”

He wondered just how far that ‘any way’ stretched. Thoughts flitted through his mind about all the things he could ask of her to test that. How many of them would she consent to? How many would end with her slapping him across the muzzle? Just the ideas was enough to make him smile.

She must have misinterpreted his smile. “I’m glad that makes you happy. Things have been rough for you lately. But hopefully some time off in Ponyville can help get your mind off those awful things.”

She set his bags down on the floor. “I don’t know what your usual nightly routine is, but Sweetie should be out of the bathroom soon. Feel free to use it after that.” She turned to leave, but stopped in the doorway. “Oh, and don’t worry about being up in time for breakfast. Sleep as late as you like.”

Still facing him, she backed out of the room. “Goodnight, Fancy.”

“Goodnight, Rarity.”

She gave him one last smile, before turning and leaving. The door still stood open, she obviously expected that he would want to use the bathroom at some point. Which was smart, as he did. In fact, he’d had to use the bathroom for a while now.

Glancing at his bags, he opted to take care of them later. And if he decided to not use the clothes in there, then he packed them all for nothing. 

He stuck his head out into the hallway, seeing it empty. The door to Rarity’s room was cracked and a soft light spilled out. Moving so that he was standing in front of the bathroom door, he leaned against it, trying to listen inside.

Faintly, the sound of running water could be heard. Whether it was the sink or the shower, he didn’t know. He closed his eyes, imagining her in the shower, the water running down her mane, those curls straightening out. He could picture the look she would give him upon his entry into the room, or when she caught him staring.

Her eyes would go wide with shock at first, but soon they’d lower into that half-lidded state. The corners of her mouth would turn up slightly, her head bent down. She would beckon him forward, to join her. And he would do so, happily.

They’d embrace under the water, lips meeting. Hot breaths flow across each other, panting, gasping. Hooves would explore. He’d feel her mane, her withers, her barrel, all the way down to her flank and what lay just beyond.

She’d moan his name, call it out. The shower would echo with their passion. He’d claim her. He’d make her his and his alone.  She’d love it. She’d love him.

His musings and imagination came to an abrupt halt when the bathroom door opened. He was still leaning against it, so he fell inwards, landing at the hooves of Sweetie Belle. The filly’s mane was wet, clinging down to her face. Her green eyes stared down at him in confusion.

“Mr. Fancy? What are you doing?”

He scrambled back up onto his hooves. “I was, um... I was checking to see if the bathroom was clear by, um, listening.”

She giggled. “Oh, well next time just knock. It’s easier.”

“Sage advice,” he replied, smiling at her. Feeling emboldened for some reason, he reached out and ruffled her mane. It felt so smooth, though whether that was her own choice, or Rarity’s influence, he didn’t know.

She protested, making an adorable squeak and using her hooves to flatten out her mane. But she also smiled, so the gesture wasn’t ill received.

“Run along now, off to bed.”

The filly trudged past him, heading down the hallway towards the stairs and her room. With a solid push, she opened her door and went inside, kicking the door closed behind her.

That was close. He’d been too caught up in his imagination, not paying attention to what was around him. Fortunately the filly was quick to accept his hasty explanation. He’d have to be more careful in the future.

His nightly routine consisted of nothing more than cleaning his face, a task which was accomplished quickly. The shower was wet and steam still partially fogged the mirror.

Quickly, he was back in his room with the door closed. Rarity was right about one thing, he was tired after all that travel. It was a mystery, what made sitting still for so long so tiring. If he ever solved that, he really could retire and live like a king.

He lay in the bed, not bothering to get under the covers. It was a warm night in Ponyville. His gaze upon the ceiling, he reviewed what he’d already seen.

Sweetie Belle was... rough. She looked like her sister and she shared some of the same natural beauty and grace as her sister, but she was lacking in some places. He’d need to make sure certain things developed as they should. He could still have his Rarity. It would just take some work.

Making a mental list of the things he’d need to work on, his eyelids grew heavier. He rolled over, shifting his view towards the wall where just beyond it, Sweetie Belle lay. She wasn’t perfect, but she was available. As he fell asleep, one thought continuously sounded in his mind: He could still have his Rarity...

> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Chapter 3: The Morning After

Fancy Pants awoke to the most perplexing combination of smells. There was the smell of something burning, yet it was most curiously mixed with a fruity, citrusy smell. His tired mind tried to figure out what could produce such a scent.

The smell only grew in strength, prompting him to sit up in bed. A door being thrown open and hooves galloping down the stairs increased his curiosity. At a more sedate pace than whoever had just gone running downstairs, he got up and left the room. Only once did he look back at his suitcases, still stacked over by the closet. “When in Roam...” he muttered to himself. If nopony around here wore clothes, then neither would he. All the better to blend in.

Navigating down the stairs, he could see smoke coming out of the kitchen, as well as hear hushed voices. The door into the room was cracked open, so with a small push of his magic, it swung wide. What he saw caused his eyes to widen.

The kitchen could probably be labeled a disaster zone. Pots, pans, and dirty dishes were stacked high in the sink, while the source of the smoke was revealed to be cooking on the stove. Whatever was in that poor pan was unrecognizable now. On the table sat three place settings, which were at least set correctly, he noted. On each plate was a lump of charcoal, and inside each glass was a gray sludge.

Sweetie Belle was standing on a step stool over by the stove. It looked like she’d been tending to the... whatever it was in the pan. Now she was arguing with Rarity, waving her hoof around and nearly hitting her sister with the spatula.

“Sweetie Belle, what were you thinking?” Rarity was asking.

“I just wanted to cook you breakfast. And since Mr. Fancy is here, him too!”

Fancy moved over to the table, quietly pulling out a chair and sitting in it, trying to not disturb the sisters. In his experience with mares, when they go into a state like that, the best thing to do was to let them play it out. Trying to insert himself into that conversation would only succeed in having both of them turn their attention upon him.

As they argued, he picked up the fork and idly poked the lump on his plate. He tried cracking it open in the hope that it was like an orange, where the bitter exterior held wonderful goodness inside it. Unfortunately, it appeared to be quite solid, the fork not even able to penetrate the outer layer.

Dropping the fork, he picked up the glass, tilting it around. Whatever was inside it refused to obey gravity, not even moving when he turned the glass completely upside down. He set the glass upside down on top of the napkin on the table, seeing if it would run down with time. Whatever Sweetie’s talents were, cooking was not among them.

Rarity’s voice, louder and directed at him, interrupted his experiment. “Oh, Fancy, I didn’t see you there.”

“It’s quite alright. I smelled something cooking and decided to come see what it was.” He poked the lump on his plate once more, this time chipping off a small piece of it.

“It’s eggs,” Sweetie said.

Eggs? These weren’t eggs, these were something that he’d use to... to... He couldn’t even think of what he’d use these for. Maybe as a weapon against an attacker.

“And the drink?” he asked.

“Orange juice,” she said proudly.

He raised an eyebrow, looking at the upside down glass, whose contents still resolutely defied gravity. How in Equestria could that be classified as orange juice? And furthermore, how does one possibly do that to orange juice?

The filly was looking at him expectantly. As he tried to come up with something positive to say about the food, he was saved from answering by Rarity’s magic picking up the plates. Swiftly, she dropped their contents into the trash. The glasses of juice followed, being dropped into the sink, though Fancy felt that trying to wash them was a lost cause.

“Sweetie, go upstairs and get ready for the day. Your mane is a mess.”

Grumbling about unfairness, the filly trudged out of the kitchen. Fancy could hear her hooves climbing the stairs, until a door slammed shut.

Rarity turned towards him, a forced grin on her face. “I’m sorry about that,” she said. “Sweetie tries, she really does, but that filly just cannot cook.”

“So I see.” His eyes roamed over the large pile of dirty dishes. Right then and there, he resolved to keep Sweetie out of his kitchen.

“Let me make you a proper breakfast.” She opened the fridge with her magic, looking inside. “It would appear that Sweetie used all of the eggs, but I can offer you some fresh fruit.”

He nodded. “That sounds good, thank you.”

Several fruits flew onto the counter, Rarity grabbing a knife and with swift motions chopping them into pieces. “Coffee or tea?” she asked while slicing.

“Tea, please. I usually have at least one cup in the mornings.”

She laughed. “As do I. I find it’s the best way to start the day.” Dividing the fruit onto three clean plates, she set them down on the table. Another few minutes, and a steaming mug of tea was set in front of Fancy.

“Shall we wait for Sweetie?” he asked.

Rarity nodded. “She shouldn’t be more than another moment.” She picked up her tea, blowing on it before taking a sip. “So, how did you sleep?”

“Quite nicely, actually. Though for some reason, the quiet got to me. I’m so used to Canterlot and all of the background noise that goes along with it, that it was too quiet last night.”

“Yes, I suppose that could be disturbing. Though I’m glad to hear that you did sleep well. I’d feared that the guest room would be inadequate for you.”

A smile came to his face. “My dear Rarity, I am a simple stallion of simple tastes. The room is perfect.”

“Oh, good,” she replied. Before she could say anything else, Sweetie walked into the room.

“Sorry for ruining breakfast, and your kitchen,” she told Rarity.

“There, there,” Rarity said. “It’s alright. I may have overreacted. Now come on, join us at the table so we can eat.” The filly hopped up into the empty chair, and together, they started eating.

Once more Fancy marveled over the produce. The fruit was so juicy and vibrant. The flavors just burst in his mouth. And those apples... He’d never tasted an apple quite so delicious.

They chatted lightly over breakfast, Sweetie telling about what she and her friends had gotten up to yesterday. It was something about crusading and cutie marks. Rarity nodded and asked a few questions while Fancy was too absorbed in his food to pay much attention.

“So what are you going to do today, Fancy?” Rarity asked him.

He paused, a slice of apple halfway to his mouth. Setting the fork down, he contemplated her question. What was he going to do today?

He hadn’t exactly thought about what to do now that he was out here. Getting to Ponyville and Sweetie Belle had been the first, last, and only thing on his list. In hindsight, that wasn’t the smartest thing and he should’ve planned this out more.

“Well, as someone who’s never been to Ponyville before, what would you suggest?”

She put a hoof to her chin. “Well, I’d offer to show you around town, but I really need to finish an order for a client.”

Sweetie got excited. “Ooh! Ooh! The Crusaders can show him around. We can get our tour guide cutie marks.”

Rarity looked hesitant. “Erm, yes, I suppose so.” While her muzzle had a reluctant smile on it, her eyes were very clearly saying “No” to Fancy.

Fancy turned to Sweetie. “Are you and your friends good tour guides?”

The filly nodded. “Of course! We can show you all the cool places around town.”

He thought for a moment. Rarity, at this point, was subtly shaking her head. Yet, he really wanted to interact with Sweetie outside of her big sister’s gaze. He needed to see her as she naturally was, not when she was holding back. Getting her amongst her friends would be a good way to accomplish that.

“How about this. How about I go out and explore Ponyville by myself this morning. Then, you and your friends meet me somewhere in town where I buy you lunch, and after that you can be my tour guides. Does that sound good?”

Sweetie’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Cutie Mark Crusader Tour Guides!” she exclaimed. “Okay Mr. Fancy, meet us at the library at noon. You can’t miss it, it’s the giant tree byt the market.” Before another word could be said, she’d leaped off her chair and ran out of the kitchen. There was the sound of what Fancy could only assume was the front door opening and closing.

He chuckled at her exuberance. She was certainly full of spirit. As he caught sight of the look of pity that Rarity was giving him, his chuckle died out. Rarity looked like he had just agreed to his own funeral. Which was odd, considering it would just be a few fillies walking him around town. What could possibly be wrong with that? But her look was making him think that he’d just walked into a trap.

“What? Did I do something wrong?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “It’s just that Sweetie and her friends have a bit of a reputation. You see, they try hard, but things just sort of... go wrong around them.”

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think it is.”

She didn’t believe him, that much was obvious. But it was too late now to back out. Not that he wanted to, anyway.

He gazed over at the massive stack of dishes. “Do you need any help cleaning up?”

“No, thank you though. I’m used to Sweetie’s messes. No, you go on ahead and enjoy Ponyville.”

Fancy got up from the table, leaving the kitchen. He headed upstairs, stopping off in the bathroom to make sure that he was presentable. He may not be wearing clothes, but that wouldn’t stop him from at least making his mane and tail look good.

After several minutes spent with a brush he felt satisfied with his look. Another brief stop in his room, and he had a bag of bits securely tucked away in his mane.

Finally ready to face the town, he headed down the stairs. The sounds of clinking dishes and running water could be heard from the kitchen. “I’m heading out, Rarity!” he called. There wasn’t an answer, so he shrugged and left the Boutique.

Outside, the sun was shining and only a few scattered clouds lazily floated through the sky. The weather pegasi had done a good job. It felt odd to him, not wearing any clothes. This was the first time in a long time that he’d been outside ‘in the nude’ so to speak.

There were a few other ponies that he could see. None of them were wearing clothes, so hopefully he’d blend in a bit better. Maybe it was just him being conceited, but his clothes played an important part in his image.

He inhaled, taking in the fresh Ponyville air. It was so clean, so crisp. It was nothing like the Canterlot air. Canterlot always smelled of a vast conglomerate of ponies. Ponyville somehow smelled of fresh grass and trees.

It was just after nine in the morning, which gave him less than three hours before he was to meet Sweetie and her friends. Ponyville wasn’t that large, so hopefully he could see most of the town. As nice as Sweetie and her friends could be, fillies couldn’t possibly make the best tour guides.

He left Rarity’s home at a slow walk. From yesterday, he knew what direction to take to head deeper into town. The train station was towards the center of town, so by retracing his steps, he’d find places to explore.

Even at a walking pace, Ponyville could be crossed in half an hour. So within fifteen minutes, he’d made it to the town square. In the center of the square was a fountain. Surrounding it was the market, with many stalls set up for local growers to sell their wares.

Curious, he idly browsed the market. There were stalls selling almost every type of produce imaginable, fresh from the fields. Unlike Canterlot, where the ponies selling produce had some sort of money related cutie mark, these ponies had a cutie mark related to the item they were selling. There was a tan mare with an orange mane selling carrots, and a rather familiar orange mare with a blond mane selling apples.

Fancy paused for a moment. He knew the apple mare was one of Rarity’s friends, though he was having trouble remembering her name. It was something to do with apples... Applejack!

The only contact that Applejack had with him was when she invaded his garden party, so there was a strong chance she wouldn’t even remember him. And even if she did, she was one of Rarity’s friends, so she could be trusted. Most likely.

Unfortunately, it would seem that pausing in the middle of a market, and not browsing a stall, is a great way to draw attention to oneself. He looked around, seeing ponies staring at him. Giving a sheepish laugh, he started walking again.

Applejack was giving him a suspicious look. No, suspicious isn’t quite the right word. It was that look of a pony who knew somepony, but was trying to figure out how she knew that pony. The last thing he wanted was his name being shouted across the market, so he put a smile on his face and trotted over to her.

“Good morning,” he greeted her.

“Mornin’” she said, her curious drawl invading his ears. “You look familiar...”

He leaned in close. “That’s because we’ve met before. You and your friends came to my garden party in Canterlot.”

Eyes going wide, she leaned her head back, her ears twitching in surprise. “Fancy Pants?”

“Indeed.”

“What brings you to Ponyville?”

He looked around, eyes darting about the market. “I had some... domestic troubles and now every gossip rag from Canterlot to Manehatten is hounding me.”

Applejack waved to some pony that Fancy couldn’t see. “I see. I don’t rightly pay attention to that sorta thing, but I’m sorry to hear about your troubles.”

“What’s done is done. As for why I’m here, Rarity was kind enough to open her home to me as a hideout of sorts. At least until some new story catches their attention and I can go back home.”

A smile appeared on Applejack’s face. “Well, that’s mighty nice of her.” She plucked an apple from her cart. “So then, welcome to Ponyville. I run Sweet Apple Acres to the west of town.” She held the apple out to him. “As a first time visitor, you get a free sample.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t.” He shook his head.

“Sure you can.” She gave the apple a toss towards him.

He reacted, catching the fruit before it could hit the ground. With Applejack looking on expectantly, he had no choice but to take a bite out of the apple.

As soon as his lips closed around the fruit, the fresh juices exploded flavor into his mouth. It was sweet, but crisp at the same time. As he chewed, he could only think that is the single best apple he’d ever tasted.

Applejack smiled, watching his face as he ate. No sooner had he swallowed the first bite, did he take another. She chuckled. “Be sure and stop by my stall while you’re here. Or at least before you leave.”

His mouth full of delicious apple, he could only nod.

“Oh, and don’t be worrying about ponies ‘round here yapping to the papers about you. We’re a friendly folk, but we respect a pony’s privacy.” She hooked a foreleg around his neck, drawing him close. With her other foreleg, she gestured around her at the town. “So there ain’t no need to hide yourself away in Rarity’s Boutique. Feel free to get out here and enjoy what Ponyville has to offer.”

This mare was surprisingly strong. “Right,” he managed to choke out. When she let him go, he gasped for air, rubbing his neck which had become sore.

“Say, you’ve never been here before. How’s about a tour? I’m sure that I can find somepony to give you one.”

Still rubbing his neck, he looked up at her. “Actually, I’ve already got one scheduled this afternoon.”

“Really? Rarity gonna get out of her shop and show you around?”

He shook his head. “No, actually. Sweetie Belle and her friends, the... Crusaders, have volunteered.”

As soon as he mentioned the Crusaders, Applejack’s eyes narrowed. “My sister’s one of Sweetie’s friends.”

“Oh, well I assure you that I’ll take the utmost responsibility with them.”

She continued to stare at him, before sighing. “Just don’t let them get you into trouble.”

Fancy was confused. Why would she think that little filles would get him into trouble? “Shouldn’t— Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” he asked.

Her only response was the just look at him. It was the same look that Rarity was giving him after he agreed to Sweetie’s suggestion. It was almost like she... pitied him.

He hadn’t thought much of it with Rarity, but now that Applejack was giving him the same look, he was beginning to suspect that there was more to this “Crusading” business than they were letting on. Though what it could possibly be, he had no idea.

“Um, yes. Well, I best be off. I felt like exploring Ponyville a bit on my own first, then getting the guided tour.” He left unsaid that it was because he thought that fillies couldn’t possibly make good tour guides, and that he’d probably learn more on his own. Then again, getting a tour wasn’t why he had agreed to watch Sweetie. Not that Applejack, or anypony, would ever know his true intentions.

Applejack was still giving him that look when he walked away. Whatever it was about the Crusaders he was missing, he’d find out soon. Until then, he wasn’t going to let it bother him.

For such a small town, Ponyville certainly had an expansive market. There were stalls selling all kinds of produce, which made sense; this was a farming town, so there would be a lot of different types of produce grown here.

He wandered the market for the better part of an hour. More than one merchant gave him a free sample, which he quickly learned to just smile and take it. They seemed to take it personally when he refused, or even worse, offered to pay for it.

Everything he ate was so fresh, so wonderful. Ever the business pony, he was already trying to think of ways to capitalize on these many different products. Would it be possible to export to Canterlot or other cities, but still maintain that “fresh from the fields” quality? He could look into preservation spells, depending on whether or not hiring unicorns to perform them was cost effective. Would the spell have to be renewed en route? If so, then he’d have to pay even more unicorns to accompany the product.

Thoughts of opening a side business dealing with the export of produce from Ponyville filled his mind. A quick glance up at the clock tower told him that it was 11:00. He had an hour to go until he had to meet Sweetie, and her friends. Already he’d spotted the library. It was indeed a giant tree, though why it was a tree, he had no idea. Was it some metaphor because books are made of paper which comes from trees?

The market was exhausted; he’d explored all of it. What else was he to do to pass an hours worth of time? Glancing around, he couldn’t deduce whether Ponyville had a High Street, so wandering that was out of the question.

Shrugging, he picked one side of the town square and started walking. The entire square was lined with shops, restaurants, and even a club or two. He window shopped, browsing the wares offered by each store. There were even things here that weren’t available in the market.

Prices in Ponyville were generally lower than Canterlot. Most of the items on sale had that hoofmade, small-town quality to them. Fancy knew of a few ponies who made a fortune buying up stock in towns like this and exporting them to larger cities, reselling them at triple their value. Ponies with more money than sense would happily pay that price.

He passed by one building that was obviously a nightclub. Since it wasn’t even lunch yet, it was closed, though what drew his attention was the ridiculous name it had. “Vinyl’s Scratch: The Wub Hub,” he said aloud. Whoever owned this either had a unique sense of humor, or was drunk when they named it.

He had managed to circle the entire square, ducking into some shops to further browse their wares, by the time the clock showed that it was nearly noon. If he was going to be on time, punctuality being something he prided himself on, he needed to head for the library now.

Fortunately, he wasn’t too far away, nor did he have to wind his way across the entire square. As he walked, several ponies waved a greeting to him, something that had been happening all morning. The ponies who lived here certainly were friendly. Even though both Rarity and Applejack had warned him about it, it was still odd to see.

In Canterlot, most ponies were too absorbed in themselves to even notice anypony else, their noses firmly turned up in the air. In Ponyville, ponies were chatting with each other, exchanging greetings and generally being amicable and neighborly. It was at the same time refreshing to see and completely foreign to Fancy, an interesting little dichotomy.

It was precisely when the clock was striking noon that he arrived at the library. Looking around, he couldn’t see Sweetie anywhere. He added another note to his mental list to impart upon her the importance of being where you say you will, at the time you say you’ll be there.

With nothing else to do, he sat down in the grass outside the library. A gentle breeze was blowing through the town, ruffling his mane and tail. It carried with it the fresh scent of Ponyville and the sounds of the market in full swing.

This really was an idyllic town. He could see why ponies enjoyed living here. As much as he didn’t like Canterlot, that was his home. Ponyville would be a great place to visit every so often, but he couldn’t see himself living here. No, he’d come into this town, take what he wanted, and leave.

Speaking of taking what he wanted, a familiar voice was calling out his name. He looked over to see Sweetie Belle, along with two other fillies, running towards him. With a sigh, he put a smile on his face. He’d been trying to not have his name shouted all over the square.

“Good afternoon, Sweetie Belle,” he greeted. Making a show of glancing at the clock, he continued. “You’re late.”

Her ears flattened. “Sorry. It’s Applebloom’s fault.”

The yellow pony with a large red bow spoke up. “Is not. We had to wait for Scootaloo to get her scooter out of the tree.”

“It’s fine,” Fancy interrupted them before an argument could start.

He waited a moment, before giving Sweetie a cue. “So, who are your friends?”

“Oh, right.” She pointed to the yellow earth pony. “This is Applebloom.” Her hoof swung around to the orange pegasus. “And this is Scootaloo.”

“I’m Fancy Pants,” he said, holding out his hoof. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Applebloom grasped his hoof, giving him a rather vigorous shake. Scootaloo hesitated, before placing her hoof in his.

He smiled at the fillies. “So, I’ve been told that you three can show me around town.”

They nodded, eager smiles adorning their muzzles. “Uh huh,” Scootaloo said.

“Well then, why don’t we start with somewhere to eat lunch. My treat.”

This would be good. Now he could spend an entire afternoon with Sweetie and really get a good look at her. She would be much more loose, more her true self around her friends and without Rarity being around. He could get a good gauge of just what he had to work with. If he had to suffer through a few hours of her friends, it couldn’t possibly be that bad.

The three fillies simultaneously took in deep breaths. Fancy narrowed his eyes, wondering just what they were doing.

“Cutie Mark Crusader Tour Guides!” they shouted at the top of their lungs, jumping in the air and hoof bumping each other.

Fancy’s ears flattened to his skull, trying to block out the noise. While their exuberance for something so mundane was to be commended, their volume was not. Ponies all around were stopping and staring.

As the fillies chatted amongst themselves about where to eat, Fancy got the slight impression that he may regret agreeing to doing this after all.

> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Chapter 4: Inroads

The door to Carousel Boutique swung open, Fancy Pants trudged inside followed by a contrite looking Sweetie Belle. Fancy was covered in mud and several sticks had grafted themselves into his mane.

“I’m really sorry Mr. Fancy,” Sweetie was saying, she was looking down, her ears drooping.

He gritted his teeth, counting to ten before replying. “It’s okay, Sweetie. It’s not your fault.” In truth, it wasn’t. It was that abomination of a pegasus’ fault.

He’d tried to be nice, to get Sweetie’s friends to accept him. At first Scootaloo had been hesitant to trust him, but after he’d bought them lunch and listened as they excitedly chattered away about various plans to gain their cutie marks, she’d slowly grown to accept his presence.

That had proved to be his undoing.

Scootaloo was rambunctious and unafraid to voice her opinion on anything. As they’d taken him around town, she’d voiced her two bits on everything. Most of it he was perfectly willing to smile and nod, perhaps offer a comment or two, then promptly ignore.

The tour had actually gone fairly well and been surprisingly informative. Some of the places they visited he’d recognized from mentions in Rarity’s letters. Others were new to him. Overall he’d been impressed with the fillies.

It was after the tour where things had gone wrong. Scootaloo had insisted they attempted some harebrained idea or another, Fancy had been too busy observing Sweetie to pay attention. Sweetie was far more casual around her friends than her sister. Her movements were still fluid and natural, but she was more animated, less reserved.

He should have been paying attention to what was said, as the end result of him simply nodding and saying yes was where he was now: covered in mud.

Sweetie closed the door behind her, attracting the attention of Rarity. She came out of the backroom, a pair of red-rimmed glasses perched on her muzzle. When she spotted Fancy, she came to a dead stop, her mouth opening slightly. “What happened?” she asked, flabbergasted.

Sweetie opened her mouth to speak, but Fancy cut her off. “Nothing,” he said. There was no sense in getting Sweetie in trouble for something that wasn’t her fault. No, it was that damned pegasus. “I wasn’t paying attention and fell into a mud hole.”

Rarity looked at him with a hint of disbelief. “Really?” she deadpanned.

He nodded. “Really. If anything, Sweetie’s only fault is being an excellent tour guide. I was too busy looking at what she was pointing out and not watching where I was going.” He smiled at her, closing the deal.

She still looked like she did not believe him. “Well, if you say so.” One of her forelegs gestured to the stairs. “I suggest you wash up in the shower.”

“That sounds like a fantastic idea.” He headed up the stairs, being careful to leave as little a trail as possible. Most of the mud had dried quickly in the sun, so at least it wasn’t sloughing off into the carpet.

Once in the bathroom, he took stock of his reflection in the mirror. His pristine white coat was covered in a layer of mud and his mane looked truly frazzled. He tried extricating the sticks from his mane, but the dried mud meant that he nearly tore out his hair. He’d have to leave them in for the moment, until he could get in the shower.

Using his magic, he turned on the water, waiting until steam was rising before stepping in. The first order of business was loosening the mud by getting it wet.

As he stood there, letting the water cascade down his body, his thoughts returned to earlier. Sweetie’s two friends were a mixed bag of nuts. He’d figured out very quickly that Applebloom was the sister that Applejack had referred to. The similar names, as well as the accent would have clued anypony in. Applebloom was more excitable than Sweetie, but not as much as Scootaloo. No, that filly had a head on her shoulders underneath that giant bow.

Scootaloo, though... she was trouble. Fancy would be surprised if there was anything but hot air filling her head. Between the constant bragging about Rainbow Dash, to her seeming inability to keep her mouth shut, she very quickly got on Fancy’s nerves. He’d gritted his teeth and endured it for the sake of continuing to watch Sweetie, but ten minutes into the tour and he wanted nothing more than to give her an impromptu flying lesson by tossing her as far as he could with his magic.

She was the reason he was in his current state. That filly was a menace and if he had anything to say about it, Sweetie would cut all ties with her. In his opinion, Sweetie and Applebloom were fine. They, at least, had common sense enough to question whether something was a good idea. Scootaloo just charged ahead, unthinking about consequences.

Fortunately, today wasn’t a total loss. He’d gotten familiar with Ponyville and where things were located, as well as observe Sweetie. He was pleasantly surprised to see that she still retained her natural grace even when Rarity wasn’t around. Part of him had been wondering whether it was simply something she unconsciously did around her sister as an attempt to emulate her.

Along with her grace, she proved that she also had a good head on her shoulders. She’d been the first to speak up against Scootaloo’s plan, only going along with it because the pegasus had pressured her, and, evidently, because Fancy had unknowingly agreed as well. No, Sweetie had her rough edges, but he had less work to do than he had initially thought.

The water running down the drain was a sick, brown color. He didn’t want to get anything dirtier than it already was, so he forewent using something to help get the mud off, sticking to his own hooves. Scraping along his body, he slowly exposed his coat once more.

He vigorously rubbed his mane, loosening the mud there, as well as the sticks. Gingerly, he was able to pull them out, setting them in a small pile off to the side. All the while, he cursed Scootaloo for getting him this dirty in the first place.

It took him three scrub downs with soap and shampoo before the water leaving his body was as clear as it was when it left the shower head. Finally feeling clean and satisfied, he turned off the water, grabbing a towel and drying himself off. Several minutes later, he’d combed and styled his mane, praising Rarity for her large collection of styling gels and tools, once again feeling like his old self.

Heading back downstairs, he wondered what to do to pass the time. It wouldn’t be too long until dinner, so there wasn’t much point in leaving again. He looked around Rarity’s showroom, idly browsing the ponyquins she had on display.

She really did have a talent as a designer. Her fashions were more simplistic than those found in Canterlot, but that had a lot to do with the local market. Ponyville most likely would not appreciate the additions that Canterlot excelled at flaunting. Yet if he looked closely, he could see hints of flair that she’d craftily hidden. It was there, just understated. It would take somepony with an eye for fashion to be able to tell the difference between these works of art, and the items from the local clothes barn. But all it took were these small details to know that the designer behind them was a talented marvel.

He knew that she’d been looking for someway to get her business off the ground in Canterlot. The problem was that Canterlot looked down upon ponies who hailed from “backwater” towns like this. Nopony would give her a chance without somepony vouching for her, and nopony was willing to put their reputation on the line for an unknown. It was a catch-22: she needed somepony to vouch for her to become known, but nopony would vouch for her until she was known.

Perhaps he could find someway to help her. If Rarity opened a shop in Canterlot, she’d be forced to spend time in the city, possibly bringing Sweetie with her. If he played his cards right, he could convince her to come stay at his place, where she’d be busy working, leaving him free to spend time with Sweetie.

Speaking of Sweetie, he wondered where she was. If he strained, he could hear a soft humming coming from the back room, which meant Rarity was hard at work designing something. But of her sister, he heard no sound.

He looked all around the first floor, seeing no sign of the filly. His curiosity got the better of him, so he headed back upstairs. The door to Sweetie’s room was cracked and he could hear movement inside.

Peeking around the door, he saw Sweetie sitting on the floor, a piece of paper in front of her and several crayons scattered about. Curiously, she wasn’t drawing, but struggling to lift one of the crayons with her magic.

Her horn was lighting up, but she wasn’t having any luck with actually getting the implement off the floor. It would wiggle around, but stayed resolutely in its place. The filly was grunting with effort of using her magic.

Fancy risked opening the door just a little bit more, watching her. She continued to battle the crayon, her face scrunched with effort. He tried to figure out what she was doing wrong, but without talking to her, it was impossible.

Finally, she gave up, her horn losing its color instantly. With a frustrated cry, she kicked the crayon, sending it skittering across the floor towards the door and Fancy. “Dumb crayon,” she said.

Fancy opened the door, picking up the crayon in his magic and floating it over to Sweetie. When the implement appeared in front of her, she turned her head towards the door, seeing Fancy sitting there. “Having trouble?” he asked.

She looked around. “No,” she said, the lie evident in her voice.

She was lying, of course. Everypony had unconscious tells that told others they weren’t telling the truth. Fancy was good at reading said tells, as well as concealing them in himself. Yet he didn’t even have to try to know she was lying.

He set the crayon down in front of her. At her age, struggling with magic wasn’t uncommon. Lots of fillies and colts were going through the same process she was, so it was nothing to be embarrassed about.

“Want some help?” he offered.

She shook her head. “I’ve got it.”

He chuckled. “Sweetie, there’s nothing wrong with asking for help, or accepting it when it’s being offered.” He looked around as if checking for anypony listening in, his head lowering until it was close to hers. “Wanna know a secret?” he whispered.

She nodded, excitement taking over.

“When I was your age, I couldn’t even make my horn light up.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? But everypony in my class can at least do that.”

“Really. I was terrible at magic. I still am, actually.” He wasn’t lying, either. He knew a lot of the theory behind magic, as it helped his business, but he wasn’t capable of performing many of the spells himself. Not that there was much call for that, that’s what he hired other, more magically inclined, unicorns for. He could live his life perfectly with only the most basic of spells.

“At least you can lift a crayon,” she pouted.

“As can you,” he countered. “And I can help you, if you want it.”

He could see the filly warring with herself. Her pride was telling her to dismiss his offer, while her need to conquer this hurdle wanted her to accept. Fancy sat patiently waiting. He already knew that she’d take him up on his offer.

Finally, Sweetie sighed. “Okay,” she said.

Immediately, her horn lit up and she resumed trying to lift the crayon. Fancy placed a hoof on her shoulder, stopping her. “Not yet,” he said. He’d need to judge just where she was before he could try and help her.

Keeping his hoof on her, subtly feeling her soft coat, he spoke again. “First, tell me what you’re trying to do.”

“Lift the crayon,” she replied.

He chuckled. “I mean, how are you going about doing that?”

“Well, I’m trying to use my magic to grasp it.”

Her general answers were giving Fancy a fairly good idea of what the problem was. “Have you been taught how to use your magic before?”

“Sorta,” she said. “I asked Rarity to teach me, but she just told me to concentrate harder and went back to making her dresses. When I asked Twilight, she filled a chalkboard with math and talked for over an hour.”

“And what did Twilight say?”

At this Sweetie looked sheepish. “I... Don’t know,” she admitted. “I didn’t understand any of it, especially the math. It had all these weird symbols.” She stuck her tongue out in disgust. “So I just asked for some books to read, but those didn’t help either.”

Fancy used his hoof to rub her back. “Books are all well and good, but there’s no substitute for a teacher.” He finally relinquished his hoof on her. She’d need to concentrate without distractions.

“Can... Can you help me?” she asked, looking up at him.

“I can try,” he said. He pointed to the crayon on the floor. “Take a good look at this.”

She stared at it for several seconds. “Okay,” she said.

“Now close your eyes,” he instructed. The filly complied, her eyes closing. “I want you to picture the crayon in your head. See it on the floor. Nod when you have it fully in your mind.”

Sweetie nodded. “I can see it,” she said. “Now what?”

“Patience.” He waited a moment, before continuing. “Now, I simply want you to channel magic into your horn. Don’t try and do anything, just make your horn light up.” How quickly she accomplished this would let him know how much she knew about the basic theory of magic.

It took her a moment, but her horn was soon alight with her light green aura. The aura wavered for a moment before becoming steady, the filly channeling a constant stream of magic into her horn.

Fancy was impressed. Most colts and fillies her age would have trouble sustaining their magic, their aura would be wavering as they struggled to adjust the amount of magic. Yet hers was quite stable, only the occasional waver in it. She was further along than he thought, and certainly further along than she thought.

He let her sit there, channeling her magic, getting used to it. Now came the hard part, where her attention would have to be divided between two tasks. “Very good,” he said. “Can you still see the crayon?”

She sat still for a moment, before nodding. The fact that she didn’t speak showed that she was too busy concentrating.

“Good, now comes the hard part. I’m going to describe something to you, and you’re going to need to use your imagination to make it happen, all the while you cannot stop channeling your magic.”

He gave her a quick moment to let that sink in. “In your mind’s eye, I want you to envision your magic reaching out and grasping the crayon. It can take any shape you want it too, but just picture it clearly.”

Her horn wavered a bit, but stayed lit as she concentrated. “Don’t try and lift the crayon, not just yet,” he said. “Picture your magic grabbing the crayon and letting go, grabbing it and letting it go.”

He stayed silent, watching her. Her horn wavered, nearly going out several times, but each time she pulled it under control. He’d honestly expected her to fail at this point. Most young ponies lacked the fine control to split their attention between channeling the magic and using their imagination. It was something that took practice to accomplish. Yet Sweetie seemed to be doing just fine.

When her horn was mostly stable once more, he spoke up again. “Now, grasp the crayon and pick it up. Again, don’t actually try it, just imagine it. Envision your magic lifting the crayon off the floor.”

This was the final simple step. If she could successfully imagine this, then the final step was to actually use her magic to accomplish what she wanted. He watched her carefully. In truth, there was very little difference between this step and the previous one, what mattered was that she get used to what it should look like. What he was really watching for was signs that she was getting tired.

Already he could tell that her breathing was increasing, her chest rising and falling as she took in deeper breaths. A single droplet of sweat was making its way down her muzzle. She was getting close to her limit, before she could no longer sustain her magic.

“Now comes the final step,” he said. “I want you to use your magic to lift the crayon. Keep your eyes closed.”

Almost instantly her face scrunched up again and she started grunting with effort.

“No,” he admonished. “Don’t try and force it. The magic is already flowing through you. Instead, just guide it. You’ve been guiding it already, you cannot force your imagination. Instead, let your imagination shape your desire then let the magic do the rest. Let it, don’t force it.”

She still had a scrunched face, though she wasn’t grunting anymore. The light green aura surrounded the crayon, which wiggled around a bit, but still stayed on the floor.

“You’ve already imagined what it should look like, now make it happen. Use your will to guide the magic. It’s yours to command, you simply need to direct it.”

Slowly, her face relaxed. The aura around the crayon grew stronger as she concentrated.

The crayon lifted off the floor marginally, slipping back down briefly before lifting back up. The process repeated for over a minute, each time the crayon staying in the air just a little bit longer.

Fancy raised a single eyebrow. At each step, Sweetie had surpassed his expectations. He’d never believed that she could actually accomplish lifting the crayon. He figured that she’d fail and he could wrap up the lesson with an explanation of how to go through with the magic, then continue to work with her on it. Now, it seemed like he’d have to expedite his hasty plan.

Sweetie was breathing hard, sweat evident on her face, but the crayon was hovering several inches off the floor. It still wavered, but it was there.

“Keep guiding your magic,” he said, “and open your eyes.”

She opened her eyes, blinking as they readjusted to the light after having been closed for so long. When she could see again, she spotted the crayon hovering over the floor, held in her magic. She gasped, her concentration breaking, causing the crayon to clatter to the floor.

Silence permeated the room, the filly’s deep breaths the only noise. Fancy smiled down at her. “Congratulations,” he said.

Her mouth opened and closed several times, but nothing came out. Finally, she got control of herself. “I... I did it...” she said. “I did it. I did it!” She leapt into the air, letting out a loud exaltation of joy.

“I did it!” she cried again. Her eyes fell upon Fancy, who was still sitting there, chuckling at her antics. She reminded him of himself, when he finally managed to achieve the same thing. Accomplishing levitation was always a cause for celebration, as most unicorns struggled and struggled with it. Beyond lighting the horn, levitation was the most basic spell, making it the best place to start learning. Once the secret to levitation was unlocked, it was all about practice from there.

Sweetie leapt once more, this time forward. She wrapped her hooves around Fancy’s neck. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

He was slightly surprised at the hug, but recovered quickly, pulling the filly closer. Her soft coat pressed up against his, the scent of her mane filling his nostrils. He enjoyed the closeness. He leaned into the hug, getting his face as close to her as he could, inhaling through his nose, her scent filling him. She smelled like a mixture of berries. It was intoxicating.

He gave himself into the contact, his nerves lighting up. Everywhere Sweetie was pressed against him was working on overdrive. Nerve endings sent messages of pleasure to his brain as her coat subtly rubbed against him with her breathing.

“What’s going on up here?” A voice interrupted him. He looked over to see Rarity, her glasses still on, standing in the doorway.

He took stock of the current situation, that being him alone with Sweetie in a room where she was in his arms. He scrambled for some way to explain this, despite Rarity simply looking confused.

Sweetie beat him to it. She released him, running over to Rarity. “I did it!” she exclaimed. “I did magic!” She pointed to the crayon that still sat on the floor. “I levitated the crayon!”

Rarity looked over her sister at Fancy, who nodded. “She did,” he confirmed.

“Mr. Fancy taught me how to do it.”

Rarity looked back down at Sweetie. “That’s amazing, Sweetie. Congratulations.” She smiled at her sister, the smile being genuine. Bending down, she hugged Sweetie.

The two sisters shared a moment of joy over an accomplishment. Eventually, Sweetie pulled away. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell Applebloom and Scootaloo.” She rushed over to Fancy, giving him another hug. “Thanks again, Mr. Fancy.”

He was careful to just wrap a single foreleg around her. As much as he wanted to give in to the hug, he couldn’t, not with Rarity standing there. He had to be careful.

When she pulled away, Fancy went back to coaching her. “Now do you remember what I told you?” She nodded, an infectious smile still on her face. “It will still be difficult at first, but if you keep practicing, it will get progressively easier.” He left out anything that would be better dealt with in the future. For now, she just needed to concentrate on getting better at what she already knew.

“But,” he cautioned. “Be careful not to overexert yourself. If you feel lightheaded or start getting a headache, then stop for the day.”

Once again, she nodded. “Yes,” she said.

Fancy rubbed a hoof over Sweetie’s head, causing her to giggle and try to flatten her mane back down. “You did very well today.” She beamed at him, still riding high on her success.

He left the room, Rarity leading the way back downstairs. As they walked, he noticed that behind her smile, Rarity looked upset. He wondered if by teaching Sweetie magic he’d made her upset.

Having her feeling down, and with him the cause, would never do. He needed her to be happy with him if he was going to continue to have access to Sweetie. Perhaps if he apologized then he could make things better. “Rarity, I’m so sorry,” he said.

She looked at him over the rim of her glasses. “Whatever for?”

He flattened his ears, doing his best to look contrite. Appearing apologetic went a long way towards the offended party accepting, whether you were sincere or not. “I saw Sweetie struggling with her magic and I don’t know what came over me. I just... felt like helping. I remembered the method that my old magic tutor used to teach me, and I tried it with Sweetie.”

He paused, taking in a deep breath. “Honestly, I never expected her to actually succeed.” His head turned up, looking her in the eyes. Her face was passive, but her eyes betrayed shock, though at what he wasn’t entirely sure. “So, I’m sorry if I overstepped my bounds.”

The room was quiet a moment. “Fancy, you did nothing wrong. In fact, I should be thanking you for helping Sweetie. She’s been struggling for so long with magic, it’s wonderful to see her succeeding. To see her so happy.”

“You looked upset,” Fancy explained. “I thought it was because of what I did.”

Rarity laughed. “Oh no, not at all. You just did so much for Sweetie. If anything, I’m upset at myself.” They entered the kitchen, Fancy noticing that a pot was on the stove, steam rising out of it. Rarity took a seat at the table, Fancy sitting down next to her.

“The truth is,” she continued, “I’ve been meaning to work with Sweetie on her magic lately. But I’ve just been so busy with orders and with the shop, as well as my friends and my fiancé, that I’ve been neglecting Sweetie.”

Fancy reached out, taking one of her hooves in his own. She seemed surprised at first, but didn’t pull away. “Rarity, you can’t punish yourself for that. Take it from me: life has a way of getting away from you sometimes. You can get caught up in things and everything else just fades away.” He gripped her hoof just a little tighter for a moment. “Sometimes you just need somepony else to show you what you’re missing. Celestia knows I’d be lost without Quick Time, my assistant. That mare is a blessing, making sure everything is organized at work, and then unafraid to kick my plot out of the office if I get too caught up in things.”

Rarity chuckled. “She sounds interesting.”

Fancy nodded. “That she is. She’s more helpful than she realizes. But my point is that you shouldn’t blame yourself for getting caught up in the details, it happens to everypony at some point. Now that you know it, you can avoid it. Spend some time with Sweetie. Soon.”

He used his free hoof to gesture around him. “I’m a capable stallion, I can watch your store for a bit while you spend some quality time with your sister.”

“Oh no, I can’t ask that of you. You’re a guest and here on vacation, I can’t put you to work.”

“Rarity, I’m offering. Just take the offer. If not for yourself, then do it for Sweetie.”

She struggled with her thoughts. “Oh, fine,” she gave in. “I’ve got an order due tomorrow that I still need to finish up, but once I wrap that up, I’ll do it.”

He squeezed her hoof again, a gesture that she returned. “There, that wasn’t so hard.” She playfully swatted his shoulder, earning a chuckle from him.

“It was excruciating,” she joked, a smile gracing her muzzle. “Thanks for the talk.”

“Anytime,” he said. His hoof still held hers. She was so soft, her hooves well manicured. She wasn’t pulling away, so he was going to enjoy the contact as long as he could. This was what he wanted, what he would have, after a fashion.

Eventually, she pulled away with the excuse that she needed to finish up dinner. Fancy just smiled at her, sitting at the table as she went over to the stove, stirring whatever was in the pot.

Despite what that pegasus had put him through, today was an overall success. He’d gotten to spend time with Sweetie away from Rarity, giving him a better glance at what he had to work with, and what still needed improvement. He’d also made a huge stride in getting the filly to trust him. By helping her with her magic, she’d be far more comfortable around him, more accepting should he suggest something in the future.

He knew not to rush things. He was playing a slow game. Rushing would only end in failure. But by taking it slowly, carefully, he would win. He’d get what he set out after: his Rarity.

Dinner came and went, filled with the excited chatter of Sweetie as she discussed magic. Fancy declined to comment, letting Rarity handle most of the interaction. He’d get his opportunity, but for now it was time to let Rarity take the stage. Keeping Rarity happy was a priority.

The rest of the night was spent in pleasant conversation with the sisters. Rarity was interested to hear about Canterlot and what was going on there. Sweetie listened, though Fancy could tell that her interest wasn’t the highest on the current subject.

He tried to include her by describing some of the things in the city that would appeal to a filly. With each successive thing, he could tell that her interest was growing. Maybe he wouldn’t have to suggest a trip to Canterlot after all, he could just plant the idea in her mind and let her do all the work convincing Rarity.

Eventually, they all retired for the night, Sweetie yawning and professing that she wasn’t that tired. Rarity ushered her sister up the stairs, telling her to get ready for bed and that she’d tuck her in. Despite protests that she was too old for that, Fancy could tell that she wanted it.

Fancy lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Sweetie and Rarity were both in bed, leaving the Boutique in a relaxing silence. Every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the feeling of Sweetie pressed up against him. The ghost of her scent tingled his nose.

It was stupid, but he needed to be near her, just once more before he could sleep. Cautiously, he peeked his head out of the guest room. The hallway was dark, the only light was Luna’s moon, spilling in through the window.

On the tips of his hooves, he crept down the hallway, pausing briefly in front of Rarity’s door. He pressed and ear against it, listening. The only sound was silence. He listened for any sign that she was awake for over a minute, before feeling satisfied that he could continue.

He arrived at Sweetie’s door, seeing it cracked open. Rarity must’ve left it open after she got done tucking Sweetie in. That made his job a lot easier.

He nudged the door, which swung open without a sound. Sweetie’s bed was positioned across the room from a window, allowing moonlight to illuminate the sleeping filly. Her back was to the door.

Quietly, he crept into the room and over to the bed. He could barely make out the slow rise and fall of her chest. She was asleep.

Leaning over, he placed his muzzle next to her, inhaling. His nose filled with her sweet scent. The berry smell was stronger now that she’d showered recently.

Sweetie let out a small sound. Fancy froze, afraid that he’d woken her up. The filly rustled deeper into the covers, letting out a sigh. He waited, still frozen.

When her breathing remained deep and slow, he let go of the breath he’d been holding. It would certainly do him no good to get caught in her room late at night. Even if he would be able to come up with a suitable explanation, Rarity would be sure to watch him closer; suspicion would certainly be planted.

Taking a chance, he inhaled once more, savoring the scent as long as his lungs could hold the air. Still holding his breath, he left Sweetie’s room, making sure to nearly close the door behind him.

As soon as he made it back to his room, he released his breath in a great rush of air. Just like Rarity, Sweetie entranced him. Her beauty, her grace, he wanted it all to himself.

Climbing back into bed, he got under the covers, resting his head on the pillow. A smile graced his muzzle as he still savored the memory of her scent. Today had been a good day, all things considered. He’d advanced further than he thought possible in such a short time. Still smiling, Fancy fell asleep.


> Chapter 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Chapter 5: Enter the Fiancé

Heaving a sigh, Fancy watched the hand on the clock slowly move closer to its goal. He thought he’d been so smart three days ago when he’d offered to watch the shop for Rarity so she could spend some time bonding with Sweetie. Surprisingly, she’d taken him up on that offer. Much to his dismay, she’d had him watch the shop multiple times while she left on various errands.

Over the last three days, he’d been stuck watching the shop half a dozen times. Normally, watching a shop wouldn’t be so bad, but since Rarity dealt mainly with special and custom orders, there was a lack of steady customers coming through the door. He was used to always having something to do, so sitting and watching an empty shop was torture.

At least today he had a distraction in the form of Sweetie Belle. The filly was over in the corner, practicing her magic. He mostly left her alone, occasionally checking on her to make sure she wasn’t wearing herself out. Rarity had stepped out to pick up some supplies from a couple shops, as well as visit the post office to retrieve a few special order packages.

The clock taunted him, moving slower and slower the closer the minute hand got to the twelve at the top. As soon as the hour ticked over, he would be able to close up the shop. His gaze drifted between the clock and the door, on the off chance that somepony came in to rescue him from the monotony.

After an eternity, the clock chimed, signalling a new hour. Barely suppressing a groan of joy, he trotted over to the door, flipping the sign from “Open” to “Closed.” With the shop now officially closed, he decided to check in on Sweetie again.

She was currently practicing with a quill, the object hovering in front of her. She could now lift light objects fairly well. She was practicing with a quill to get used to holding it, as the next step was working on manipulating the object by using the quill to write. Concurrently with manipulation, she’d move on to trying larger and heavier objects, like small books or a magazine.

He sat down next to her, watching for just a moment before speaking up. “How’re you doing, Sweetie?”

“Good,” she responded. Her eyes were open, staring at the quill. “Watch this.”

The quill started moving. Slowly, it flipped end over end, then stood on it’s point and revolved. As it moved, it became less steady, slipping a bit, but it never fell completely.

“Very good,” he said. Lightly, he set his hoof on her shoulder. The sudden contact startled her, the quill falling as her concentration slipped.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, indignant gaze turning to look at him. “You messed me up.”

He chuckled. “I did, but distractions happen everyday. You need to learn to work around them.” Removing his hoof from her, he continued. “If somepony suddenly shoved you, then not even the best archmage would be able to hold onto their spell. But a light contact,” he set his hoof back on her shoulder, “you should be able to concentrate through that.”

Under his watchful eye, she kept practicing. After another fifteen minutes, he called an end, as she was breathing hard and perspiring, signs that she was getting tired and using too much magic.

He nudged her. “Come on, time to call it quits for now. I’m sure Rarity will be back soon and we’ll all get something to eat.”

With a sigh, she let the quill fall to the floor. “Fine.” They moved into the sitting room, Fancy taking up a book while Sweetie continued on a drawing.

“What do you think we’re gonna do for dinner?” she asked him.

He shrugged, flipping a page in the book. “I have no idea. It’s getting late, so Rarity will probably bring something home.”

His eye traveled down to the brightly colored magazine he’d purchased yesterday that was sitting on the table. On the front of it was a picture of his house. Spread across the top, just under the magazine’s title, was the caption “Fancy hides in house. What else is he hiding?” A small section of the cover had another picture, this one a zoomed in shot of his front door, showing his assistant Quick Time entering. “Mysterious mare visiting Fancy.”

The magazine had simultaneously gotten him to laugh and nearly facehoof. It was absurd the things that were being published about him, but it had been a week since the breakup, surely something else had happened since then. It was just his luck that he had to be the top story in the slowest news week ever.

Fancy and Sweetie sat for another few minutes, before the front door opened. “I’m back, and I brought some dinner,” Rarity’s voice called out.

“Finally,” Sweetie said. She set aside her crayon and hopped up, leaving the room. Fancy was in less of a hurry, so he finished the page he was on and set the book down on the table.

Upon entering the main room, he saw Sweetie and Rarity disappearing into the kitchen, a couple bags floating behind them. Standing by the door was another pony, a unicorn. Several more bags were being set down next to him.

His coat was a beige color, his short mane an aqua blue. He looked up, seeing Fancy standing there. He had a cutie mark of a bellows. “Oh, hello. I wasn’t aware there were any customers left at this hour.”

“I’m not a customer,” Fancy replied.

Before the stallion could say anything, Rarity came out of the kitchen. “Darling, you can just put the bags in the workroom.” She caught sight of Fancy. “Ah yes, you two haven’t been introduced.”

She gestured to the stallion with a hoof. “This is my fiancé, Blaze Hearth. Blaze, this is the houseguest I told you about. Meet Fancy Pants.”

Blaze approached Fancy, holding out his hoof. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Pants.” Fancy took the hoof, receiving a firm hoofshake.

So this was the fiancé that had stolen his Rarity. Fancy ran a critical eye over him. His mane was slightly askew, having the look of somepony who had hurriedly smoothed it down with hooves. His coat was smudged with black spots in places and Fancy picked up a subtle tang of sweat. His hooves were rough, and exuded the air of a workpony. It wasn’t that he was unattractive, he was just a little rough for Fancy’s taste. 

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Blaze continued.

Fancy dropped his hoof, resisting the urge to wipe it on the carpet. “From more than the tabloids, I hope.”

Blaze laughed. “Mostly from her,” he said, pointing at Rarity. Looping a foreleg around her shoulder, he leaned over and planted a kiss on her forehead. “She talks about you a lot.”

“Really?”

“Really. I’m not sure whether to be proud of her, or jealous of you.” That was interesting. Fancy filed that information away for later. If he was on Rarity’s mind, then there were certainly ways he could use that to his advantage.

Rarity gasped. “Darling, you know my eyes are set on you.” She gave him a quick kiss. “Now come on, let’s eat.”

In the kitchen, Sweetie was already sitting at the table. Four plates were set out, and several boxes sat in the middle, a mixture of pleasant aromas mingling. Fancy sat in a chair, Blaze sitting across from him.

“So I’m curious,” Fancy said. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard the story of how you two met.” He needed information about Blaze. The more he knew about the stallion, the better he could plan things out.

“Well, it’s kinda funny, actually,” Blaze said, scooping a small pile of noodles from a container onto his plate. “See, I own a shop here in town. I do custom metalworking, usually for decorations. If you see a decorative door handle, fence top, or something like that, unless it was imported, it’s my work.”

He took a bite of food, slurping up his noodles and making Fancy cringe. “One day, this gorgeous unicorn walks into my shop and asks if I can mold something out of gold. I said sure, even though I don’t work with it very often. She needed a base for a piece of custom jewelry, to go with a dress.”

“It was for a special client,” Rarity interjected. “I’d never been asked to make jewelry before, only put gems on a dress, which I can do easily enough. So I went to an expert.”

“I don’t know about that expert part, but you came to me. Anyway, I made a base to her specifications and I figured that was the end of that.”

Rarity giggled. “Once word got out that I could also provide custom jewelry to match an outfit, I started getting orders for that as well. So I kept going back to Blaze’s shop.”

“I admit, I thought she was beautiful, but very much out of my league.” Fancy certainly agreed with both of those statements. “However, one day I was feeling exceptionally giddy. I’d been hired by Mayor Mare to provide some decorations for a town celebration and been paid generously in advance. So when Rarity came into my shop soon afterwards...”

Rarity picked up the story. “He asked me out, without preamble. Took me by surprise.”

“So that’s it? You said yes?” Fancy asked. There was no way that his Rarity would ever just agree to a date with a stallion like that. A mare like her should be charmed and wooed first.

“Oh, no. She turned me down.” Blaze chuckled. “About near crushed my heart. Certainly crushed my good spirits. But I took her order and completed it anyway. After she picked up the jewelry, which was for her friends to wear at the Grand Galloping Gala, I thought I’d never see her again.”

“What happened?” Fancy asked. Obviously, something had changed. The question was what.

“The Grand Galloping Gala,” Rarity said. “I’d dreamed for so long to meet a Prince who would sweep me off my hooves. Then I met Blueblood.” Her face morphed into a look of disgust.

Ah, Prince Blueblood. Fancy has had the misfortune of not only meeting, but working with that poster-foal for insufferable, ignorant oafs before, so he certainly understood Rarity’s misgivings about Blueblood. If there was ever a pony to shatter dreams, it was him.

He pranced about like he owned everything. He called himself a Prince, when his connection to the throne was about as loose as the mares who worked in Canterlot’s back alleys. Fancy honestly didn’t understand why the Princesses kept him around.

“Having met Blueblood, you have my sympathies.”

“Thank you,” Rarity said, taking a moment to let the scowl on her face fade. “So after that disastrous night, I was forced to rethink my ideas on romance. Holding on to a filly’s dream of finding a perfect Prince is silly. If I continued thinking like that, I’d never find a stallion who could satisfy those qualifications.

Blaze continued to eat while Rarity spoke. His loud slurping making Fancy wince every time. Apart from his exterior appearance, his table manners needed work. A lot of work.

“I opened myself up to the idea of dating non-Prince stallions,” Rarity continued. “It just so happened that I remembered when Blaze asked me out a few weeks prior. So I went back to his shop and asked him if he still wanted that date.”

“Shocked me,” Blaze chuckled. “Here she is, coming into my shop without an order, and taking me up on a date. I thought I’d died and gone to the Summer Lands.”

Rarity set a hoof on his. “Your reaction was quite humorous, darling. The poor stallion couldn’t close his mouth. It took him several moments to respond.”

What Rarity had said made sense. A night with Blueblood would be enough to make anypony contemplate jumping from the castle’s tallest tower, much less change their ideas on dating. He’d heard what had happened to Blueblood that night, getting cake thrown at him. Outwardly he’d been appropriately shocked and outraged, but inwardly he’d been jumping with glee. His only regret was not getting to witness the event. He’d been too busy running from a horde of squirrels.

So she’d agreed to go on a date with Blaze. Fair enough, Fancy was no stranger to experimenting. So how did they end up staying together? It must have been a truly amazing first date to get Rarity to come back.

“Was it a good date?” he asked.

Rarity and Blaze stared at each other for a moment, before they burst out laughing. Fancy was confused, wondering what he’d said.

“It was awful,” Blaze said.

“A total disaster,” Rarity agreed. “The food was terrible, the waiter spilled a drink on me, the weather pegasi messed up and it started raining on us, I got locked out of the Boutique, and my dress got ruined.”

She smiled at Blaze, who smiled back. “But throughout it all, he managed to keep me entertained, kept me laughing. I was still miffed, but none of it was his fault, so I agreed to a second date. Eventually.”

“It took her a few days.”

So even after a disastrous first date, she had agreed to keep going out with him. Fancy revised his view of Blaze. Obviously, there was something about him that drew Rarity’s attention. If he could find it, he could exploit it. As much as he may hate the idea, he’d have to spend some time with Blaze, get to know him. An added benefit to that being that it would look good to Rarity, who’d continue to allow him access to not only her, but Sweetie as well.

The filly was quietly eating her dinner. She’d most likely heard most of this, and witnessed it as well. Many foals her age would be whiny at being so bored. Instead she was well behaved, well mannered.

“So, then what? You continued dating?”

Blaze nodded, a bit of stray noodle hanging from his mouth flopping around. His tongue darted out and licked it up. “We did. Fortunately, the second date was much better. We dated for months, growing closer together. We’d been dating for about a year when I finally popped the question.”

“If he thought he was shocked when I took him up on his offer of a date, that was nothing compared to when he asked me to marry him.” She giggled. “I fear my reaction was most unladylike.”

“It was adorable, when I wasn’t fearing what your answer would be.”

She playfully swatted him. “I suppose my answer is now known to all. We haven’t set a date for the wedding just yet, still trying to work out schedules with my friends and the Princesses.”

Fancy did a double take. “The Princesses?”

Rarity nodded. “Well, Twilight informed Princess Celestia about the engagement, and she offered to officiate the ceremony. Princess Luna also expressed interest in attending. As you can imagine, working around their schedules is quite the hassle. Though I have no doubt we’ll settle on something soon.”

Blaze had the biggest grin on his face. “I never even imagined that there’d be a Princess at my wedding, much less two! How could I have gotten so lucky with you, Rarity?”

She blushed. “You flatter me.”

He leaned over, kissing her. “It’s not flattery if it’s true.”

She kissed him back, giggling. “True.”

Just watching them, Fancy could see the love they had for each other. It made him sick. That should be him kissing Rarity, holding her close, engaged to her. She should be marrying him, not some common workpony with terrible table manners. What she saw in Blaze, he had no idea. He was engaging and had a positive attitude, but so did ninety-nine percent of other ponies. 

There was something special about him, and he had to know what. He should interrogate Rarity when Blaze left, possibly Sweetie as well. It was never wise to discount the insight of a foal and she might have some observation that an adult would miss.

 The rest of dinner passed with Rarity and Blaze taking turns telling stories about their relationship. Fancy listened to every word, analyzing it to try and glean as much information from it as he could. Sweetie remained quiet, cleaning her plate and then sitting there. Fancy felt bad for her, as she must be bored. But the lovebirds were on a roll.

Finally, dinner was over. Fancy was hoping that Blaze would go home, but he stuck around, helping Rarity with the dishes. The two of them went into the sitting room, looking like they wanted a bit of privacy. He obliged, because it provided him with some time alone with Sweetie.

The filly went up to her room, Fancy following behind her. “So Blaze seems nice.”

She nodded. “Yeah, he is.” Now that she’d escaped from the dinner table, her mood had perked up. “He let me and my friends into his shop once, showed us how everything worked. Wouldn’t let us try our hooves at metalworking cutie marks, though.”

Fancy concluded that at least Blaze had a brain if he wasn’t willing to let Scootaloo around an active forge. Celestia only knows what that filly could do in that situation. Probably manage to burn down the shop for starters.

“What’s your opinion on him?” he asked.

Sweetie opened the door to her room, going inside. “I dunno. Like I said, he’s nice. He really seems to like my sister.”

Fancy came into the room as well, sitting on the floor. “So you wouldn’t mind having him as a brother-in-law?”

She shrugged. “I never really thought of it like that. I guess if he does marry Rarity, then he’ll be family.” She went quiet, chin turned up in thought. “I’d be okay with it, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I mean, he’s nice and sometimes plays with me.”

There was more she wasn’t saying. Fancy knew he needed to dig deeper, get Sweetie to open up to him, but he needed to be delicate about it. Pushing her too hard would only cause her to clam up. He had a hunch that her actions at dinner were a clue.

“Is something wrong, Sweetie?”

She looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“You were very quiet at dinner.”

“I’ve heard it all before,” she said quietly.

He lay down on his stomach, bringing his head more in line with hers. “Sweetie, you can talk to me. I promise that I won’t ever tell Rarity.” She still looked hesitant, so he decided to throw a little charm in there. “I like you, Sweetie. I think you’re a wonderful little filly, who’s smart and certainly fun for this old stallion to be around.” She giggled in response to the smile on his face as he said that. “I don’t like seeing you upset, and sometimes things get better when you confide in somepony.”

Her green eyes stared into his. “Do you promise not to tell Rarity?”

With a smile, he nodded. “I promise.”

Looking around, like Rarity might be hiding in the room, Sweetie leaned in close, to where her breath tickled his ear. “I’m worried,” she whispered.

“About what?”

“Whenever he’s over, Rarity just stops paying attention to me. I’m worried that when they get married, I’m gonna lose my big sister. I already almost never see mom and dad, they’re always away on some trip for the University. I don’t wanna lose Rarity too, then I’ll be alone.” Her ears were folded down, her head drooping lower as she spoke.

Fancy gently lifted her head up with a hoof. “Hey, there’s no need to worry. Think about how much fun you two have been having these last few days. It’s obvious she loves you and cares for you. I think she’s just caught up in the romance of it all. You know how she is, she focuses on one thing, to the exclusion of everything else.”

Sweetie sighed. “Yeah, she does.” Her hoof scuffed the ground. “It’s kinda annoying.”

First and foremost, Fancy was a business pony. He was good at analyzing a situation and coming up with an outcome that benefited him. Already his mind worked to see how he could turn this sisterly situation to his advantage. He needed to keep Rarity close, but if he could do that while driving Sweetie closer to him, that would be ideal.

“I’m certain that once the novelty of it wears off, she’ll come around. Besides, you won’t be alone. You’ve got your friends. And you’ve got me.”

“Applebloom and Scoots are awesome, but they can’t be around all the time. And you’re fun, but you’re going back to Canterlot sometime. I know you can afford to do nothing for as long as you want, but you’re not gonna stick around.”

“You are right. I have a life and a business I need to get back to. And as much as I trust Quick Time to temporarily run my business, she can’t do so forever. But just because I won’t be around doesn’t mean we can’t do fun things.”

This was the make or break moment. He needed to sell Sweetie on what he was about to propose. If this worked, then he’d have plenty of access to her, with Rarity’s blessing.

He perked up, like he’d just gotten an idea. “Say Sweetie, have you ever been to Canterlot?”

“Once, but it was for a school field trip to the palace. We didn’t have time to see the town at all. And right after, Discord broke out.”

“Well, how would you like to visit Canterlot and stay in my mansion?”

Her eyes lit up and her entire demeanor changed. “Really? You’d let me do that?”

“Sure. I’m certain I could arrange for you to have a wonderful time.” And the fact that it would get Sweetie into his home, where he could control the situation, was very much a bonus.

Leaping up, she let out an exclamation of joy. “I’d love to!” She hopped around a few times, before suddenly stopping. “But I don’t think Rarity would allow it.”

“Nonsense. I’m sure I can work things out with her. What do you say? Would you like to see Canterlot?”

“I do!”

Fancy smiled. This was working out perfectly. Convincing Rarity would take some work, but the perfect outcome would be Sweetie coming to stay at his mansion, alone. If Rarity wanted to tag along, which he was certain she would, that was perfectly acceptable as well. It wouldn’t be hard to distract her.

Of course, this was in the future. Right now, he needed to work on figuring out Blaze. Perhaps a visit to his shop was in order tomorrow. If he could corner the stallion one on one, Fancy was certain he could get information out of him. Already he knew that he inadvertently was taking Rarity from Sweetie. The more he knew, the better he could turn a situation to his advantage.

“I’ll talk to Rarity,” he said. “Which means you should as well.”

“What do you mean? There’s no way I can convince her to let me go to Canterlot.”

“Not about that,” he said, shaking his head. “About how you feel.” Having there be a wedge between Rarity and Sweetie could actually be a good thing, if it drove Sweetie towards him over her. However, it was too early in the game for that to happen yet. It was far better to keep them together. For now, his access to Sweetie was through Rarity. But if things went his way, which they always did, he wouldn’t have to go through Rarity anymore. If it came to it, he’d hammer the wedge in himself.

“Uh-uh. I can’t do that. She’ll just get upset.”

“Sweetie,” he said. “Rarity’s your sister. Obviously you two care for each other. However, part of being family means should be able to feel comfortable talking to each other. That doesn’t mean you need to tell them everything, it’s fine to have your secrets. But it’s obvious that you miss her, so talk to her. Tell her how you feel. I’m sure she’ll listen.”

Sweetie still didn’t look convinced, so he reached out, setting a hoof on the top of her head and rubbing it gently. “If you want, I’ll be there to help you.” He didn’t care what the answer was to that question. What mattered was that she felt that he only had her best interests at heart. She needed to trust him implicitly.

“You’d do that for me?” He nodded his assent. “I... I don’t know. Would that really work?”

“I think so. Like I said, she genuinely cares for you and wants you to be happy. So if you just tell her how you feel, that you feel like she’s ignoring you, I’m sure something good will happen.”

She was quiet for a moment. “Okay. I’ll talk to her, though I’d like to do it alone.”

“That’s fine. I’m not part of your family, and this is family business. So why not talk to her when Blaze goes home tonight. Unless, you think he’s going to spend the night.”

Sweetie shook her head. “He only stays the night if I’m sleeping over at Applebloom’s or something. If I’m here, then they sleep apart.”

Fancy filed that information away. So Rarity and Blaze were at least sleeping together. The mere thought of a stallion like him sleeping with Rarity filled him with disgust, but knowing about it was valuable. And Sweetie knew about it as well, which opened some doors for him to exploit later.

“Okay, then do it tonight, while you’re thinking about it. If you wait, you may lose your conviction.” He stood up. “So, since those two are occupied, is there anything you want to do?”

She put a hoof to her chin in thought. “Wanna play a board game?”

“Sure,” he said with a chuckle.

The filly let out a squee and ran over to a bookcase, the bottom shelf of which was filled with boxes for games. She selected one, dragging it over.

They spent over an hour playing several rounds of the game. It was a game that relied upon strategy and luck in equal amounts, so neither of them had an advantage over the other. Fancy could strategize better than Sweetie, but she seemed to be luckier than him. Or she was cheating somehow.

As they were finishing up their fifth round, with the two of them tied at two wins each, the sound of a clearing throat drew their attention to the doorway. Rarity stood there, looking on in amusement. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said.

“Merely, your sister cheating,” Fancy said.

“I do not cheat,” Sweetie countered. “You just have bad luck.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Well, Blaze has gone home, so I’m going to go read in my room for the rest of the night. Goodnight, you two.” She turned away, heading down the hall. Fancy heard a door open, then close a moment later.

He looked down at the various items in his possession. It was clear that unless he had a massive reversal in fortune, Sweetie was going to take this game. He set down his cards. “Fine. You win.”

She cheered. “See? Bad luck.”

He chuckled. “Indeed. However, you have something you need to do.”

Sweetie knew exactly what he was hinting at. “Do I hafta?”

“Yes, you do. Better to do it now than to wait.” He placed a hoof on her flank, simultaneously feeling it while pushing her towards the door. “Go on. I’ll clean this up. Why not come to my room after you’re done, if you want to talk.”

She sighed, trudging out the door. Fancy watched her go. A moment later, he heard a knock, followed by Sweetie asking to talk to Rarity. It was only after he once more head the door open, then close, that he started putting away the game.

In short order, the game was put away. A quick trip to the bathroom and his nightly routine was completed. Sweetie was still in Rarity’s room, so as he said he would, he retired to his own room.

He was laying in bed, reading a book, when there came a knock at his door. “Fancy?” he heard Sweetie say.

“Come in,” he replied, setting aside the book.

The door opened and Sweetie stepped inside. “How did it go?” he asked.

“We talked for awhile.”

“I figured. But what did she say?” He patted the bed. With a grunt of effort, she climbed up, sitting near the edge.

“Well, I did what you told me to. I told her how I feel, about how she acts when Blaze is around. I told her about my fears.” She drew in a deep breath. “She apologized, of course. She said that she’d be sure to include me more.”

Her eyes were still pointing down at the bed. “Sweetie, what is it?” Fancy asked.

“It’s just, she’s promised things like this before, and every time it always goes back to her ignoring me. I thought things might change after the Sisterhooves Social, but they didn’t. Why should things be different this time?”

With a soft plop, a drop of moisture fell from her muzzle and onto the covers. Her body was shaking as she struggled not to cry.

Fancy reached out, drawing her into an embrace. She didn’t resist, her hooves finding their way around his neck, her head leaning into the crook of his shoulder. He felt warm, wet drops impact his coat.

“I’m sorry, Sweetie.” He rubbed her back, holding her close. If things were this bad between Sweetie and Rarity, then he’d have to accelerate his plans. The wedge between the sisters was deeper than he thought. This required a shift from stabilizing the wedge, to inserting himself into the equation. He needed to get Sweetie to run to him in times like this. If she came to view him as a friend, he could exploit that, evolve it to become something more.

He let her cry into his shoulder. Her body pressed up against his. His hoof running through the soft coat on her back, occasionally patting her head.

When she finally pulled back, wiping her eyes with a hoof, he smiled at her. “I’m sorry things are like that between you and Rarity.”

“Sorry for messing up your coat.”

He waved a hoof. “Think nothing of it. But just give Rarity some time. Have a little faith in her. No matter what, she’s still your sister. She’ll come around and see what she’s missing: a truly wonderful pony, one that I’m honored to call a friend.”

“You think we’re friends?”

“Of course.” He looked surprised. “What else would we be?”

“But you’re old.”

He clutched his chest. “Oh Sweetie, you wound my heart.”

The sound of her giggle echoed throughout the room. “But you even called yourself old.”

“Hmm. I suppose I did.” With a sigh, he continued. “If you say it, it must be true. I’m old. I’m ancient and decrepit. I could keel over any moment.” He looked around. “Where’s my walker?”

Even with a hoof stuffed in her mouth, Sweetie couldn’t contain her laughter. “Stop it. You’re not that old.”

He chuckled. “No, I’m not. But nothing says I can’t have a little fun.” The filly let out an adorable yawn. “Oop, someone’s sleepy.”

“No I’m not,” she protested.

He gave her a flat look, broken only by a slight grin. “Uh huh.”

“Okay, maybe I am a little.”

“I thought so.” He stood up, getting out of the bed. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” Her eyes were curious, but not distrusting.

“To your room, silly.”

“But, why?”

“So I can tuck you into bed.”

Dutifully, she hopped down. Fancy led the way into her room, where she climbed into her bed, laying down. He pulled the covers over her, patting her head.

“Just give Rarity some time,” he said again.

She nodded. “I know.”

He moved, standing in the doorway. “Goodnight, Sweetie.”

“Goodnight, Fancy. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Smiling at her, he closed the door.

The smile never left his face. Already he could think of a dozen ways to exploit things to get Sweetie even closer to him. He would still pursue breaking up Rarity and Blaze, of course. After all, it made sense to play both hooves in case one failed. This way, no matter which one won out, he’d end up with Rarity.

Briefly, he entertained thoughts of somehow securing both of them. Not one, but two Rarity’s, both his, forever. However, such thoughts, while pleasant, were distracting. If it happened he certainly wouldn’t object, but to aim for it would be a disaster. For now he could afford to play both sides, but at some point, he would have to make a decision on which one to pursue. It would all come down to information.

Laying in bed, hooves behind his head, he smiled up at the ceiling. Things were certainly looking up. There was still a lot of work to do, but for now he could allow himself a celebration. Sweetie was growing closer to and trusting him. Rarity trusted him. He had finally met Blaze. He had discovered secrets between Sweetie and Rarity.

Today was a good day. He had been complacent these last few days, but now his goal of attaining Rarity was closer. Hopefully tomorrow would be even better.

> Interlude 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Interlude 1: Quick Time Adventure

Quick Time groaned, facedown on her boss’ desk. Pieces of parchment and scrolls were scattered all over the room, having been shoved roughly off the desk when her stallion-friend had come over. She should probably clean off the desktop before something sank into the wood.

Why did Cloudbuilder have to come over? And why did she agree to a little quickie on the boss’ desk? Knowing her luck this week, Fancy would take this opportunity to show up just as unexpectedly as he’d left and she’d be caught.

Finally summoning the energy to move, she lifted her head up. The office was a mess. Fancy had entrusted her with not only a key to his mansion, but with running his business empire while he was away. While she was flattered that he’d put that much faith in her when she was really only his assistant, she would’ve like a little more warning.

She’d been shocked at first, coming into the main office and finding a letter from Fancy on her desk. The letter had contained a key to his place, as well as a list of instructions. Suddenly she went from the lowly little assistant, to in charge of one the biggest businesses in Equestria. The pressure to not screw up was immense.

Of course, she knew his schedule intimately, as she was the one who made it. It just so happened that on that morning, he was supposed to be at an executive meeting. Usually she was the earth pony standing in the corner, occasionally getting Fancy some coffee, but this time she’d surprised everyone by sitting in his chair.

It had taken some convincing, and she’d had to show them at least the relevant part of Fancy’s letter to her, but they’d quite grudgingly accepted that she could sit at the table. Not that they’d actually listened to anything she had to say. However, she had final say on everything in Fancy’s stead, so until they realized that, nothing would get done in the meetings. Instead, she simply did everything behind their backs.

The first few days weren’t bad. It was stressful, but all new to her. That, and a part of her had reveled in the power she wielded. She couldn’t get away with firing anypony, most likely, but she certainly controlled many things now. 

She remembered one particular incident, on her first day as the acting head of the company. She’d been sitting in Fancy’s office, instead of at the little desk outside of it like she usually did. The door opened and in came a stallion.

His name was Net Worth. For as long as she had been the barrier between Fancy and everypony else, scheduling his meetings and appointments, Net had tried to kiss Fancy’s flank. Quick had seen right through him, and done everything she could to deter him away from Fancy.

Now here he was, walking into his, now her, office, a large smile on his face. Something was up, and she knew it. Only she didn’t know what his scheme was this time.

Even before he slid into a seat, her eyes were narrowed and gazing right at him. “Net. What brings you by?”

“Quick, I heard about your promotion. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. Is that all?” She knew it wasn’t, but protocol dictated she ask.

“I just came in to ask you a favor.”

Of course he did. “And what favor would that be?”

He leaned in closer to her, close enough she could smell his cheap cologne. “You see, I’ve got this little project I’m working on, and I need just a teensy bit more money.”

“Why do you need more money? Is your current budget not enough?”

That smug smile was still on his face. “No, no, it’s fine. But think of what I could do with just a little extra. This project is gonna pay off, big.” He set a hoof on the desk. “I tell you what, why don’t you meet me tonight at the Rusty Horseshoe. We can discuss this over drinks.”

So this was how he was going to kiss her flank. Take her out, wine and dine her, try and get her enough drinks that she’ll sign off on the budget increase. Either that or he was hoping to get a night in the hay with her. Either way, it wasn’t going to work.

“I think that is a wonderful idea, Net. However, I’m afraid that since I’m now taking over Fancy’s schedule, I can say that I have a meeting until ten tonight.”

“Oh no problem, I can wait.”

“Oh don’t bother yourself, we can always reschedule. I tell you what, I’ll take a look at things and see what I can do. I’ll get back to you with a time we can meet and... discuss your proposal.”

Even he had enough sense to know when he was being dismissed. Still wearing his smile, he got out of the chair. “That sounds good, darling.” He extended a hoof.

Loathe as she was to actually touch him, she had to at least shake his hoof. Gingerly, she grasped his hoof, giving it a quick up and down movement before dropping it like she’d been burned.

As soon as he left the office, she sighed. Of course, she had no intention of ever meeting with him outside of the office. She’d find ways to deflect him and put him off until Fancy came back and he could deal with that stallion.

The novelty of being in charge had worn off quickly. Before, she had structured hours and only the occasional late night. Now she was there from when Princess Celestia raised the sun, until well after Princess Luna raised the moon. She had no free time, barely any sleep. She was running almost entirely off of caffeine, with the occasional dirty coffee thrown in. How Fancy did this and still somehow had a life, she desperately wanted to know.

The past couple of days she’d been working out of Fancy’s home. He’d left a number of things there for her to do, and it was more private than the office. There was still a blockade of paparazzi ponies outside, which served to deter all but the most crucial of visitors. Those stuffy executive ponies could deal with not having her around.

Every time she entered or left the manor, she had to wander through the paparazzi. Cameras were shoved in her face, questions were asked. She just ignored all of them. Being Fancy Pant’s assistant, she was used to it, though based on the headlines, nopony remembered who she was, which was fine by her. That way they stayed out of her personal life.

Today, for the second day in a row, she’d been holed up in Fancy’s home office, reading scrolls, signing off on things, making notations. There was enough paperwork here to bury a pony, or in this case, to cover the floor in a fine layer of paper. Cloudbuilder coming over to say hi, since they hadn’t seen each other all week, had been a welcome distraction.

Of course, he’d started kissing her, rubbing his hoof along her flank. She’d gotten into it, leaning back on the desk. Then he’d asked her if she wanted him, the papers had scattered and—

She shook her head vigorously. Continuing down that train of thought would only end with her hoof finding itself somewhere it shouldn’t. No, she needed to be cleaning up the mess, not adding to it.

Flexing her hooves, she began the laborious process of fixing what she’d done. First off was cleaning off the desk. A rag and some cleaner took care of that. From there, she organized the papers again. A quick glance at each one and it was sorted into the Done or Not Done piles.

It took her longer to clean up the mess than it had to make it. One look at the two piles of parchment and she nearly cried. The Done pile was so meager compared to the Not Done. It was like she was standing at a base of Canterlot Mountain, if the mountain was made of orders and forms and letters and offers and more.

Not for the first time, she cursed Fancy for being so selfish and running off somewhere. As soon as he came back, she’d give him a piece of her mind. He always said that he wanted her to be honest with him, and to never be afraid to speak up. Well, he might regret that.

Quick entertained ideas of just quitting, but she knew that she’d never do that. For one, she made too many bits. For another, she was the assistant to one of the most powerful ponies in Equestria. She was learning quite a lot. Someday she’d start her own business, since while Fancy obviously let her run his empire temporarily, she had no doubt that he’d hoof it over to somepony else.

She leant back in the chair, face turned up to the ceiling. After just a week, she didn’t want to do this anymore. It was stressful, the work load was ridiculous, she had no more social life. 

The chair overbalanced and she went tumbling head over flank. “Whoa!” she cried out. Hitting the wall, she let out a very undignified “Oof!”

She leaned with her back against the wall. “Today, is just not my day.” Her head thunked back against the wall. There was a barely audible click, and the wall gave way. Letting out another yelp, she was deposited on her back, staring up at the ceiling.

At first, she thought that she’d landed on the door. But Fancy’s desk faced a wall, and behind the chair was simply another wall. The door into the office was on the side wall. So what in Tartarus had she bumped against?

The ceiling was offering no answers, so she sat up. One look at the “door” told her what had happened. Somehow, a section of wall had swung inward, revealing a hidden room. Using her hoof, she swing the door closed. Whoever had built it certainly knew their stuff, it blended in perfectly, no visible seam.

Opening the door again, she beheld a small room. What it had been used for, and why it was hidden, she had no idea. The only thing that was in it was a stack of papers, most of which looked like photos.

She knew that she should just close the door and forget about it. Fancy’s private life was not for her to know, beyond what she read in the tabloids and learned just from being around him. Since she handled his schedule, she was also responsible for scheduling his dates, making reservations, etc.

Her curiosity got the better of her. Who knew when she’d have a chance to be alone in his manor like this again. Besides, he owed her for doing all of this. A quick peek at his secrets wouldn’t hurt anything. If it was worth hiding, it was certainly worth her knowing.

She looked through the stack, very quickly finding a common theme: A blue-maned pony. She was very pretty, Quick had to admit. Something about her seemed familiar, though she was only able to put a name on the pony because some of the picture were from newspapers, and the captions were helpful. The pony’s name was Rarity. Looking at the backgrounds in the picture, she was able to recognize where they were taken.

“So she lives in Ponyville,” she wondered aloud to the secret room. “But why the buck does Fancy have so many pictures of her?” It looked like he’d found every picture of her that ever existed.

Her mind worked, trying to come up with reasons why he not only had some many pictures, but why he’d hide them. Fleur was the pony that he was banging every night, or at least she used to be. Fancy hadn’t taken any trips to Ponyville recently, she’d know if he did.

None of that answered her question, though. Whoever this pony was, she was special to Fancy. So she was significant, but he needed to hide her...

She gasped, the only logical conclusion leaping into her mind. “Fancy has a mistress!”

The conclusion didn’t surprise her, every stallion of power in Canterlot had a mistress. It was just a part of the society. It was only logical that Fancy had a mistress on the side as well. With him banging Fleur every night, she’d figured that would be enough. That mare had legs that went on for days. If she wasn’t in a relationship already, Quick would love to have a go with Fleur and Fancy in some sort of threesome.

This mare obviously meant a lot to Fancy if he had a secret room built to hide all the stuff he had on her. Fleur must have found out about it, that’s why she left. Which meant that since Fancy was single again, he went to Ponyville to be with his mistress.

Figures. He was off galavanting with some ladder-climbing tart from a backwater nowhere and she was doing all the hard work running his company. These high society ponies had no respect for the hard working, common pony. Here she was, slaving away at running his company, while he went off and had himself a grand old time.

Selecting a photo that had only Rarity in it, she left the hidden room behind. Odds were, Fancy was in some kind of sex stupor and most certainly wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon. In that case, she’d be going to him. After she finished all that paperwork.

Closing the room behind her, it paid to be mindful of her boss’ secrets, she went back to the desk. She selected a scroll at random, unrolling it. A smaller piece of paper fluttered out of it. Sometimes a pony wrote a scroll and then realized they forgot something so quickly stuffed a smaller note in there.

She read through the scroll. It was from Net Worth, again, asking for an increase in his budget, again. She’d rejected him twice already. Even a stallion as dense as him had to get the message after the third time.

She scrawled a rejection notice on the scroll and signed it, placing it in the ‘done’ stack for filing. Her attention went to the little note. It wouldn’t hurt to see what it said. Hopefully one of the other, smarter ponies on his team had written her an apology for Net’s behavior.

Picking up the note, she read it over. The more she read, the more disgusted she felt. It wasn’t an addendum, or even an apology. Instead, it was a note that was doing everything but hit on her. He even signed it with a little heart.

Was he seriously stupid enough to think that she’d actually sleep with him? And that he could use that to get ahead? She’d rather walk off the castle’s tallest tower than have anything to do with him.

No, this was the last straw. She was going to go drag him away from whatever vacation he was having so she could escape this hell. She was not going to be putting up with Net, or any of the other ponies trying to use her, anymore. Fancy was going to come back and deal with this himself, whether he wanted to or not.

Grabbing the photo of Rarity, she left the mansion. The paparazzi were still out there, but she ignored them. Some of them were shouting accusations that she was sleeping with Fancy, which didn’t faze her. Worse had been shouted at her since she’d been working for him. It wasn’t her fault the media had the attention span of a gnat, and was about as annoying as one as well. If they couldn’t remember who she was, then that was on them.

If she hurried, she could just make the last train out tonight. There was no time to go to her apartment to pack anything. Besides, she had a pouch of bits she’d grabbed from his desk, so he was technically paying for everything. A nice shopping spree in Ponyville would do her wonders. Maybe she’d actually be able to find somepony who made decent clothing around there. Some of the pictures of Rarity looked like they came from fashion magazines, so Rarity was involved in that world somehow. Hopefully she was a designer, and Quick could get Fancy to give her some clothes to start repaying her for this.

Running through Canterlot, she made it to the train station with less than a minute to spare. Fortunately for her, the trains had an option to buy a ticket on the train itself. Bypassing the ticket window, she rushed to the tracks and leapt on the train just as the conductor was calling out that it was leaving.

She found a seat in first class, Fancy could certainly afford it, and settled in. Within a couple minutes, an attendant would ask to see her ticket, and she’d be forced to buy one. However, that didn’t matter.

What did matter, was that when the train pulled into Ponyville tomorrow morning, she’d track down the mysterious mare, and then Fancy. And after that, Fancy would answer to her. She smiled to herself. Oh yes, Fancy would certainly get an earful.

> Chapter 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Chapter 6

Fancy Pants looked up at the sign over the shop. Unlike the usual wooden signs, this one was made of metal. It was intricate and detailed, promising good things to those looking for similar quality inside.

The front door was open, a slight clanging sound echoed from inside. Blaze Hearth must be working on something. Taking a moment to compose himself, Fancy stepped inside.

In the gloom, the banging was growing louder, and the temperature of the air rose by a few degrees. It was a modest shop. There were no shelves offering wares to sell, instead display cases held examples of the items Blaze could produce.

There were basic things, like door handles, cabinet pulls, fence toppers. Some were simply what they were, while others had more detail, time, and thought put into them. Twists and little carvings were embedded in various places, delicate patterns traced along the length of a door handle.

Besides the household items, there were things like signs, such as the one hanging outside, decorative pieces, and what he recognized as small jewelry designs, though missing their gems. Despite his misgivings about the stallion, Fancy had to admit that his work was top-notch.

The clanging and heat was emanating from a back room, behind a small counter. Light spilled from that open door, illuminating a pony’s shadow. A small bell sat on the counter, though Fancy wasn’t sure Blaze would be able to hear it over the pounding of his hammer. He ignored the bell, and stepped around the counter. Heading through the door, he saw what lay beyond.

The back room was larger than the front room, which made sense. A huge forge took up most of the available space, with the rest of it being filled with workstations, an anvil, and various tools scattered about. The forge was currently lit, the source of the heat inside.

Blaze Hearth was standing before the anvil. A large blacksmith hammer was gripped in his magic while his hooves held a red hot chunk of metal in a vice on top of the anvil. A loud clang echoed through the room as the large unicorn brought his hammer down. Fancy couldn't tell what the stallion might be making from the shapeless hunk, the stallion brought the hammer down again bringing with it sparks and shaping for the piece.

The stallion himself was wearing a pair of goggles, eyes narrowed in concentration. He was so absorbed in his work that he didn’t notice Fancy standing in the doorway. It was only when the piece needed to be reheated and was placed back into the forge that Blaze took off his goggles to wipe his brow with a forehoof.

“Oh, Fancy!” Blaze called. “Sorry, I must not’ve heard the bell.” He trotted over to the stallion.

“Actually, I didn’t ring it,” Fancy replied. “I didn’t want to disturb you.” Now that Blaze was closer, Fancy could see that he was covered in sweat. Not surprising, given he was just standing next to an active forge.

Blaze held out his hoof, which Fancy reluctantly shook in greeting. It wasn’t because the stallion was sweaty or dirty. Fancy had the utmost respect for those ponies who worked hard for a living. He always tried to get to know everypony who worked for him, from the office drones to the janitors and gardeners. No, he was reluctant to touch Blaze simply because he did not like the stallion.

“So what brings you here?” Blaze asked. He headed past Fancy and into the shop. Grabbing a towel from under the counter, he wiped his face, removing some of the soot and sweat there.

“Last night at dinner you mentioned you did metalworking. I am interested in seeing your designs.” Not a lie, but not the full truth, either. If there was some way Fancy could profit from Blaze’s work, such as offering to import his items into Canterlot and sell them for a fraction of the profits, he would certainly take the opportunity.

No, he was here to get a feel for Blaze. Some one-on-one time with him would certainly give him a sense of what the stallion was about. If he could suss out a weakness, something he could exploit, it would come in handy later.

Already he knew about how he and Rarity had met, how they’d started dating, and a few stories from some of their dates. It was a start, but there was really nothing he could use. Stories showed some of Blaze’s character, but Fancy wanted to get to know the “real” Blaze, not the lovestruck stallion he was around Rarity.

Often, a pony acted differently around one set of ponies over another. Fancy was a business pony at work, a loving pony at home, and a socialite pony in public and at parties. He wore all different kinds of hats. Yet of all those roles, none of them were the real Fancy. Who he was at home was the closest to being himself, yet living in the public eye meant that he still needed to put on airs.

So here he was, at Blaze’s shop, to talk to him. He didn’t think this trip would yield much information, they barely knew each other after all. But it was a start.

At the mention of looking over his products, Blaze brightened up. He gestured to the display cases with the hoof holding the towel, flinging little droplets of sweat around. “I have examples of my work here.”

He set the towel down, trotting over to one particular display case. This one held a collection of door knobs and cabinet pulls, ranging from basic to intricate in design. “I make custom household items for most of the homes here in Ponyville,” Blaze said with an air of pride. 

Sliding open the case, he pulled out several examples of each. “As you can see, I’m willing to go basic if that’s what you want. However, I’ll also work with you to design something custom.”

He held up a door knob. This one was long, and had the word “Prosperity” etched into it. “I can etch words, or pictures onto my work, whatever you want so long as it fits on the piece.” Setting the door knob down, he picked up a cabinet pull, this one having an intricate series of overlapping lines on it. “Though, what is possible depends on the size of the piece you’re looking for.”

Fancy eyed the pieces. The work really was quite good. Each one had a defined, solid shape, and the etching, when present, was precise and steady. Blaze certainly knew what he was doing. “Tell me, what materials do you work with?”

“I can work with most materials. Brass is the most popular for household items like these, though some ponies do request other materials. I’ve worked with bronze and iron for decorations.” He gestured towards another cabinet. “And now that I’ve expanded my business to include jewelry settings, thanks to Rarity, I’ve worked with softer metals like gold and silver.”

Blaze put the pieces back into the display case, sliding it closed. “So what are you interested in?”

Fancy took a moment to reply. “I was mostly interested in looking for the moment. I hope you don’t mind?”

He shook his head. “Oh not at all. Many ponies come in here for the first time not sure of what they want. Feel free to look at anything, and if you want a closer look, just ask me and I’ll pull it out for you to inspect.” He smiled. “Though know that I do keep an open mind. I’ll try my hoof at creating whatever you want. I make no guarantee on sculptures, though.”

“Why sculptures?”

Blaze put a forehoof behind his head, rubbing it sheepishly. “Ah, because pieces like that are my bane. They never end up looking right.”

Fancy laughed. “So what? No intricate sculpture to be displayed at your wedding?”

Sharing the laugh, Blaze shook his head. “Afraid not. Maybe a decorative cake topper, but that’s all.”

With a conspiratorial grin, Fancy leaned in close to the stallion, trying to ignore the stench of sweat. “So who’s going to design the dresses? Surely Rarity won’t make her own dress.”

“I’m not sure I could stop her if I wanted to,” Blaze said. “But no, she’s not. Her friends have promised to restrain her if she tries.”

Fancy moved over to another display case. “Tell me more about you and Rarity. I already heard about how you met last night.” He looked up, meeting the other stallion’s eyes. “I don’t mean to pry, I just find myself curious. Especially after my own recent dealings with a relationship.”

“I heard about that. I’m sorry.”

Fancy waved him off with a hoof. “I’ll admit that it broke my heart, but it also came as no surprise. Fleur and I had been slowly drifting apart for awhile before the breakup.”

There was an odd silence before Blaze opened his mouth. “Well, you did already mention the wedding. Right now, that’s all we’re planning. As far as date nights, we’re just taking them when we can.”

Fancy rested a forehoof against the glass of a display case. “I know that I’ll be invited to the wedding already. So tell me about it. What do you have planned already?”

Blaze looked at Fancy oddly for a moment. “Well, our venue is going to be the marketplace of Ponyville. Rarity seems certain that we can get the various merchants to leave for a day. This will allow us the most open space possible, since the Princesses will be there.”

“So you’re planning on a large wedding?” Fancy asked.

Blaze shuddered. “I hope not. The Princesses alone provide way more publicity than I ever wanted. I really want a nice, quiet, private wedding. I accepted that by marrying an Element of Harmony, that would be impossible. However, that doesn’t mean I want the entire town showing up.”

Fancy circled a hoof in the air. “So what? Just half the town?”

“No,” Blaze said, once again shuddering. “I’m fine with the Princesses, and with Rarity’s friends. But I’ve been trying to get her to keep the guest list at under a hundred. She wants to invite a veritable list of who’s who in Canterlot.”

Really?” Fancy acted aghast. To himself, he resolved to provide Rarity with the personal address of every single pony he knew in Canterlot. She’d be able to send personal invites to ponies who were at the forefront of Culinary, Fashion, Technology, Music, and more. That should bump up the guest list and make Blaze uncomfortable.

“Really,” Blaze confirmed. “She wants to turn our wedding into a public affair. I’m not too happy about that, but I understand that it’s who she is. And it’s just one day, I can survive that.” He smiled. “Besides, I’ll be getting the best mare ever out of the deal.”

“She really is one of a kind,” Fancy agreed. “You’re a lucky stallion, Blaze.”

“I know. I never expected any of this to happen. Asking her out that first time was simply an unthought impulse. Where it’s gone from there, it’s like a dream. Only real.”

Fancy tried not to grimace. If Blaze was living a dream, then Fancy was living a nightmare. His Rarity was taken by this oaf of a stallion. He needed to know more, he needed to know Blaze’s secrets, so he could use them to pry the stallion away from Rarity.

“How’s Sweetie taking all this? Her sister getting married?”

Blaze shrugged. “She’s happy, I’d assume.”

Fancy quirked an eyebrow. “You assume?”

“Well... I wasn’t the one who broke the news to her, that was Rarity.”

“But surely you were there, even if you didn’t speak.” Fancy studied Blaze’s face and body language. Something seemed off here.

The stallion’s left ear twitched. “No, I wasn’t. But if she’s upset or anything, she hasn’t said anything to me. I assume she’d talk to Rarity and they’d discuss things as sisters.”

Fancy hummed a moment. “Even you have to admit that Sweetie and Rarity are less like sisters and more like mother and daughter. Their parents are always away somewhere, leaving Rarity to practically raise Sweetie.”

“True,” Blaze admitted. “Rarity’s told me of Sweetie’s upbringing.” Again, his ear twitched. Fancy was beginning to think it was an unconscious tell. Now all he needed to know was under what circumstances it happened.

“So by marrying Rarity, you’re not really gaining a sister-in-law, but a daughter.”

A heavy silence overcame the shop. “I never really thought of it like that.” No twitch. Blaze shrugged. “I’m okay with that, though.” Twitch. “Rarity’s worth it.” No twitch.

Fancy smiled. “You’re a good stallion, Blaze.” The words were painful, but he needed to see how Blaze would react. He had a suspicion over what the ear twitching meant, he just needed to confirm it. “Most stallions I know wouldn’t want that kind of baggage in a relationship.”

Blaze smiled as well. “She’s a good filly. I don’t mind having her around.”

Fancy’s smile became genuine. There it was. When Blaze was presenting facts about Sweetie, his smile was true, and his ear stayed still. When stating opinions about the filly, his ear twitched, and the smile became false.

The differences were subtle, but Fancy was from Canterlot. Navigating amongst the ponies there required that he be well versed at finding those subtle cues. A false smile, a fake laugh, they were potent social weapons, but also easy to pick out for those who knew what to look for. The upper-class ponies in Canterlot had practice with their falsities, Blaze did not. He was easy to read, and Fancy now had him figured out.

Whenever his ear twitched, he was lying.

Anytime Blaze had said something about Sweetie, like how the stallion liked her, he was lying. Blaze had no love for Sweetie. It was probably true that he saw the filly just as Fancy had said, extra baggage in the relationship.

This was good. This was something he could use, somehow. He’d need to dig deeper, see just how much Blaze was against Sweetie. Maybe he could get the stallion to admit something, blurt out his secret in front of Rarity and Sweetie. That would certainly turn Rarity against him.

Of course, questioning the stallion would have to wait. Fancy was supposedly here to look at his products, continuing to question him about Rarity and Sweetie would only arouse suspicion. However, he knew that he’d be coming back soon, until he could get Blaze to at least admit to him his true feelings on the situation.

Fancy looked back into the case. “Tell me about this piece here,” he said, pointing arbitrarily with his hoof.

The genuine smile returned to Blaze’s muzzle. “Sure!” He went around the case, sliding it open and pulling the piece in question out. Fancy didn’t care what it was, he only needed to ask about the piece, have Blaze explain it, perhaps wander around a bit more, then make his excuses to leave. He’d already gotten what he came here for.

Twenty minutes later, and Fancy was approaching Carousel Boutique. A spring was in his step and a bag floated by his side. He’d ended up buying some useless bauble from Blaze in order to get out of there. As soon as he could, he’d toss it in the trash, as that’s all it was good for.

Opening the door to the Boutique, he saw the main room was empty. “I’m back, Rarity,” he called. After taking a deep breath, he smiled. It was an excellent day.

“In the kitchen, Fancy,” he heard Rarity respond. He set the bag down by the door, heading into the kitchen. What, or more accurately, who, he saw sitting at the table chilled his blood.

Rarity was sitting in a chair, a teacup on a saucer in front of her. Across the table, looking up at him with her hazel eyes, was Quick Time, his assistant from Canterlot, the one he’d put in charge of his company while he was away.

How had she found him? How did she get here? What did she know? Why was she here? All those questions and more raced through his head.

“Darling, welcome back,” Rarity said. She gestured to Quick with a hoof. “I was just sharing a cup of tea with your assistant, Quick Time.”

“Fancy,” she said.

Never letting his smile falter, Fancy approached the table. Rarity didn’t look upset, so either Quick hadn’t said anything, or she didn’t know anything. “Quick, what brings you here?”

“Oh, it’s nothing important,” she said. “I just had a few business things to run past you.”

“Worth making the trip down here from Canterlot?”

She nodded, her golden mane swaying about. “I’m afraid so.” She looked around the kitchen. “I had a hard time finding you, since you neglected to tell me where you were going to be staying.”

Taking a seat, Fancy stared at Quick. “I didn’t? My apologies on that oversight.” Of course he didn’t tell her, she wasn’t supposed to know, nopony was. That was the point, being unreachable, allowing him to concentrate.

“Quick was just telling me about what it’s like, running your business. I had no idea it was so difficult,” Rarity said.

Fancy nodded. “Oh, it’s no walk in the park.”

Quick stood up. “Pardon me, Rarity, but would you mind if Fancy and I spoke in private?”

“Not at all. Sweetie’s out with her friends, so feel free to use the sitting room.”

“Thank you.” Giving Fancy a meaningful glare, she trotted off through the kitchen door. “Coming?” she asked.

“Of course.” He stood up. That she wanted to speak in private was a blessing. It meant that depending on what she knew, he could still salvage the situation. Perhaps she just didn’t want to bring it up in front of Rarity.

He took the lead, crossing the main room and into the sitting room. He held the door open, gesturing for Quick to head inside. After she passed him, he closed the door, shutting them both into the room.

“Why are you really here, Quick?” Fancy asked. Now was not the time for beating around the bush. “I trust you have everything well in hoof with the business. I wouldn’t have left you in charge, otherwise.”

“Oh the business is going well,” she replied. “That’s not the issue.”

“Then why are you here?” Fancy repeated. He wanted to know the answer so that if anything, he could run damage control.

Quick still had her back turned to him. Her violet coat complemented her golden mane and tail nicely. In a flash of color, she turned on him.

“I can’t bucking take it anymore! You selfish bastard!” Quick reached into her mane, pulling out a folded piece of paper. She unfolded it, showing it to Fancy. It was a picture of Rarity. With a sinking feeling, he recognized it as one of the pictures that he had hidden in his secret room. Quick must have found the room. What else had she found?

“You just up and vanish off to this backwater nowhere so you can sleep with this nothing little tart and leave everything to me? Buck you, Fancy!” She tossed the photo at him. “I don’t care that you have some mistress. I don’t even care if Fleur left you because of that. I do care about you being so damn selfish.”

She started pacing around the room. “Do you have any idea the stress I’ve been under? No, of course you don’t,” she said without waiting for an answer. “You just gallivant off without a care in the world, not thinking about those of us left to clean up after you.”

Her eyes never left his, despite her pacing. “Well I’ve had enough. Enough of the ridiculous hours, the meetings, the business proposals, and two actual proposals. I swear to Celestia that if you don’t get your flank back to Canterlot, I will give the tabloids so much dirt on you, including your vaunted mistress.”

So this was why she was here. She’d found his secret room, but failed to divine it’s true purpose. She’d just assumed that Rarity was his mistress. Not an unfair assumption, given how the upper-class in Canterlot were, just incorrect in the current situation.

She had assumed he’d simply run off to be with Rarity. Close to the truth, but not quite. She was just overly stressed and upset at his sudden departure. Out of all the possible scenarios, this was one he could easily work with. He knew just how to placate Quick.

Fancy sat down, head bowed, eyes looking at Quick’s hooves, ears flat on his skull. “You’re right, Quick.”

“I’m— What?” She seemed taken aback by the admission.

“You’re right,” he repeated. “I was selfish in leaving as I did, without even warning you. That was unfair of me. I apologize.” He bent his forelegs, giving a little half bow. “I was just upset over Fleur, and everything that came of that.”

Quick’s muzzle opened and closed a few times. “Fancy, I didn’t mean to—”

He held up a hoof, cutting her off. “It’s alright. I’ve put you through a lot of stress this week. Please, allow me to make it up to you.”

“You don’t have to do that, just come back and take over again.”

“I insist. Remind me, Quick, how much do you make?”

She looked confused. “I’m sorry?”

Fancy adopted a sheepish look. “I admit, I just sign your paychecks without actually looking at them, so I’m afraid I don’t actually know what you make.”

“Well, you are my boss, so I’ll tell you. You pay me a salary of four thousand bits a month.”

That was a modest salary for Canterlot. For somewhere like Ponyville, that would be a lot of bits. However, Quick was a simple mare, so he had an idea of what to do.

“Well, considering you’ve been doing my job for the last week, I’ll give you my weekly salary instead of your own.” He named a figure, considerably more than she earned in several months, much less a week. It was a little more than he earned in a week, but she didn’t need to know that.

Her muzzle flopped open, little sounds emerging. “That’s... certainly generous of you,” she finally managed to say.

He waved a hoof in the air. “Think nothing of it. You’ve done the job, you get the money.” He looked over towards the door and the shop that lay just beyond.

“I also admit that this week off has reminded me of just how much I needed a vacation like this. So I want to make a deal with you.”

“What kind of deal?”

His gaze moved back towards hers. “I would like to be able to take the occasional vacation, or even a day off, again. To that end, I’m willing to work with you. I’ll teach you about my job, about running my company. I’ll take you under my wing.” He looked at his wingless sides. “So to speak.

“In return, I’ll take an occasional day off, or long weekend. However, I’ll inform you of the dates before hoof, so you’re prepared and know what’s coming up. Sound agreeable?”

Quick sat on her haunches, thinking. She was silent for several long moments. Finally, she spoke up. “I have a condition of my own.”

He nodded, indicating for her to go on.

“You come back to Canterlot. Tomorrow. You can spend tonight with your mistress, but I don’t want to face another day of those... those... ponies!”

He’d been hoping for some more time in Ponyville, he still had things he needed to get done here. At the very least, he wanted to speak to Blaze again. He was also making fantastic progress on getting Sweetie to trust, and turn to him.

However, keeping Quick happy was also important for the long run. He might have to sacrifice a little now, but if it meant that in the future he would be free to pursue his goals, then it was necessary.

“Very well. I shall take the train to Canterlot tomorrow.” He glanced up at the clock on the wall. “Speaking of trains, the last one out today leaves in an hour.”

“Oh I’m not going back tonight,” Quick said with a smile.

“You’re not?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Let’s just say that you’re not the only one who could use a vacation.”

Fancy sighed. There would be a lot to catch up on by the time he got back to the office. Especially if Quick was also going to take a day or two off. He’d also have to face the newsponies eventually. He couldn’t just tell them “No comment,” not in this case. The tabloids had already printed every rumor they could about him, he needed to set the record straight, clear his name. And hope that Fleur continued to keep her mouth shut.

“Well then, I suppose you should do whatever it is you’re going to do tonight,” he said.

“Oh don’t worry, I won’t be messing things up for you and your mistress.”

There was a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” Fancy said. He and Quick had concluded their business transaction. He’d had to give up a few things, and she’d gotten more out of it than she’d most likely dreamed, but it would all even out in the end. Just like always, he’d come out on top.

The door opened, revealing Rarity standing there. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

“Not at all,” Fancy said. “We were just discussing the business.”

“Well I just wanted to ask whether Quick here was going to stay for dinner?”

Quick smiled at Rarity. “Oh I don’t want to impose on you.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all. I’m afraid it won’t be anything fancy, but you’re more than welcome to stay.”

“Then I suppose I will. Thank you, Rarity, for the invitation.”

“Not a problem, Quick.” She turned to leave, but Quick’s voice stopped her. “Rarity, would you be willing to tell me where your bathroom is?”

“Of course. Up the stairs, second door on your left.”

“Thank you.” Quick left the room. Fancy could hear her hooves heading up the stairs.

“Fancy, would you mind setting the table? Sweetie should be home any minute now.”

Fancy turned to look at Rarity as he stood up. “I don’t mind at all.”

Together, the two of them headed into the kitchen. While Fancy no longer had a spring in his step, his good mood, which had crashed upon seeing Quick, had returned. Today was still a good day.

Within short order, the table was set and dinner was ready. Sweetie had indeed come in the door not long after. Now, all four of them were seated around the table, eating a meal consisting of a simple salad, expertly prepared by Rarity.

Fancy didn’t say much, content to let Quick and Rarity talk fashion. Instead, he was biding his time, waiting for a lull in the conversation. Quick was forcing him to accelerate his plans.

Finally, that lull arrived. Rarity had just finished up discussing some of her latest work, and the two mares were searching around for something else to talk about.

“Say Rarity, I have something I’d like to ask you.”

She turned her attention onto him. “Oh?”

He nodded. “During the course of a conversation with Sweetie the other day, she made mention of how she’d never gotten to see Canterlot when she was up there on her school trip. Well, this simply won’t do. I’d like to extend an invitation to her to stay at my mansion. I’ll show her around Canterlot, all the sights there.”

He paused a moment, before acting like he’d just thought of something. “Why, you could come, too! I’m sure the two of you would love to get away to Canterlot. Besides, you’ve done me a favor, letting me stay here for so long. Allow me to return it.”

Rarity’s eyes looked around the kitchen. “I don’t know,” she said.

“Oh come on, Rarity,” Sweetie said. “I wanna see Canterlot, maybe even the Princesses! I’ll be a good girl.”

“I’ll take good care of her,” Fancy said. He waited for her response anxiously. This is what he wanted, to get Sweetie, preferably alone, to his mansion.

“I don’t know,” Rarity repeated. “I mean, it is summer vacation for her, and I have no doubt that you’ll take excellent care of her. I just don’t know about sending her off alone.”

“Then come with me, Rarity. You’re always saying how you want to impress ponies in Canterlot.” Sweetie waved a hoof across the table at Fancy. “I’m sure he can help with that.”

Fancy smiled. Sweetie was playing right into his hooves. He knew that he alone would have a difficult time convincing Rarity, but with Sweetie, it would be much easier. “I can make a few introductions, absolutely.”

The idea of getting to meet power players in Canterlot, ponies that could really help expand her business, was getting Rarity excited. He could see it written on her face. He was winning.

“Oh, well... I suppose we can plan something.”

Sweetie cheered, getting out of her seat and rushing around the table to hug Rarity. “Thanks, sis!” The filly then turned around and hugged Fancy, who chuckled and patted her head.

“Are you sure we won’t be imposing?” Rarity asked him.

“Of course not.” With Quick now on his side, Fancy would make sure to have nothing but free time when Sweetie arrived. Rarity would be easy to distract, he’d just have to set up a few meetings.

With some input from the filly, they came to an agreement on the date of the trip. It was to be one month from tomorrow. Fancy was fine with that, it would allow him plenty of time to get things ready.

As they were clearing the dinner table, Quick excused herself. “Thank you for dinner, Rarity. However, if you’ll excuse me, I wish to go find a hotel to spend the night.”

“Oh you don’t have to do that,” the fashionista replied. “You’re more than welcome to sleep on the couch. I’d offer you the guest room, but Fancy’s sleeping there.”

Fancy almost dropped the plate he was carrying. Looking over at Quick, he could see her giving him a funny look. She’d caught that comment as well.

With one casual phrase, Rarity had taken Quick’s mistress theory and shattered it. After all, if Fancy was sleeping in the guest room, that certainly meant he wasn’t sleeping with Rarity. He’d need to come up with an excuse, some reason to explain to his assistant why he was here. It was unlikely she’d figure out the truth, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

Still giving him a funny look, Quick responded to Rarity. “Oh it’s no problem. I prefer a bed, really. Thank you for your generous offer, though.”

“I’ll see her out,” Fancy said. It was time to do some serious damage control.

He led Quick out into the main room. “So,” Quick said. “Who is she? She’s obviously not your mistress.”

“She’s a friend, nothing more. When she heard about what happened with Fleur, she simply offered me an open invitation to stay here whenever I wanted to. It just so happened that I wanted to right then. I needed a break.”

There, an abbreviated version of the truth. Everything he’d said had been true, just some parts were missing. Like everything about Sweetie Belle.

Quick’s eyes narrowed, staring at him. After a moment, she relaxed. “Well, you have fun tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow at the train station. And if you’re not there, I’ll come back here and drag you there.”

That was not an idle threat. He knew that she really would do that. She’d proven before that she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, nor give him a kick in the flank if he needed it. More than once she had quite literally shoved him out of the office.

“Of course. I’ll be there. Good night, Quick.”

She nodded her head, opened the door, and left the Boutique. Fancy watched her walk away down the darkened street. He’d have to watch her. Maybe a raise was in order, some extra mollification.

He closed the door. It was time he prepared for his last night at the Boutique. There were still a few things he needed to take care of. First was finding and talking to Sweetie Belle.

The filly wasn’t in the sitting room or the kitchen. He could hear the sounds of activity in Rarity’s sewing room, though he suspected it wasn’t who he was looking for. Heading upstairs, he found her in her room.

“Sweetie,” he said.

The filly looked up from the drawing she was working on. “Oh, hi Fancy.” She looked downcast, though trying to hide it.

Fancy moved into the room, sitting on his haunches next to her. “What’s wrong?”

She sighed, setting down the marker. “It’s nothing.”

He slung a forehoof around her shoulder, drawing her into a hug. “Hey, you can talk to me, remember?”

“Well, that’s the problem. You’re leaving.”

He used the forehoof holding her to gently rub her shoulder. “You knew that I would eventually. You said it yourself, I can’t stay here forever.”

“I know. It’s just that... I like having you around. You’re so friendly, somepony I can talk to.” She wasn’t looking at him, instead her eyes were staring at the floor.

“And who said we have to stop talking just because I’m no longer here?”

Her eyes darted up to his for a moment. “What do you mean?”

Using his magic, he floated over a piece of paper. “I mean letters, dear Sweetie.” He grabbed her marker, using it to write on the paper, giving both items back to the filly. “There, my address in Canterlot. Feel free to send me anything, anytime. It’s not the same, I know, but I’ll still listen to anything you have to say, even if it’s just about your crusading adventures.”

She smiled. “I’d like that. You’re pretty awesome.” Her smiled turned cheeky. “For being so old,” she finished.

He laughed with her. “From someone as awesome as you, I’ll take that as a compliment.” He hugged the filly with both forehooves, a gesture she returned.

“I’ll miss having you around,” she said. “That sounds stupid.”

“Not at all. We’ve had fun this last week and you don’t want that to end. And it won’t. We’re just putting it on hold for now. But next month you’ll be in Canterlot, and I’ll show you around the city.”

The filly’s face lit up. “I’m looking forward to it.” She gasped. “Do you think we’ll be able to see the Princesses?”

Fancy paused for a moment. He had a lot of pull in Canterlot, but not even he could demand an audience with the Princesses. However, Rarity was an Element of Harmony, so she could. It would certainly be something to bring up in his next letter to her as they planned for next month.

“I’m sure something could be worked out,” he finally said.

“Yay!” Sweetie danced in place a moment.

Fancy laughed at her antics. He knew that many foals had a somewhat inflated view of the Princesses, looking up to them. So it came as no surprise that she wanted to meet them.

He stood up. “Better spend the next month thinking about what you want to do in Canterlot. Send me letters with your suggestions, I’ll start getting things planned and set up.
In the meantime, keep working on your magic.” He pointed a hoof at her. “I fully expect to be dazzled by you when I see you in Canterlot.”

She gave him an adorable little salute. “Yes, sir!”

He patted her head. “Have a good night, Sweetie. I’ll see you in the morning before I leave.”

“Night, Fancy,” she replied. Picking up the marker in her magic, she went back to her drawing. Fancy watched her for a moment, before turning and leaving the room.

Things were certainly looking up for him. Sure, he’d had to cut this visit short, but everything was still going well. Better than that, really. He’d uncovered plenty of information to use later. From Blaze’s dislike of Sweetie, to the wedge between the sisters. He could use these things to drive Sweetie away from Rarity, towards him. For now, he’d have to keep Rarity close, but someday he wouldn’t. Someday, he’d have all the access to Sweetie he wanted, and she’d trust him implicitly.

There were a few more things to work out with Rarity regarding next month, but all that could wait until tomorrow. There was plenty of time before he had to board the train. Tonight, he simply wished to celebrate his successes.

Heading into the guest room, he lay on the bed. Plans were already starting to form in his mind. One downside in doing what he was, was that he couldn’t write anything down while here. There was too much a chance that Rarity or Sweetie could find it, no matter how well he hid it. This was their house.

He’d have to wait until he was home. Though already, Quick had stumbled across his secret room, thankfully she hadn’t divined its true purpose. He’d need to find a better way of securing the door, or an even better hiding spot.

He had a lot to do in the next month to prepare for Sweetie’s arrival at his mansion. Everything would have to be perfect. He smiled up at the ceiling. Things were falling into place so well.

> Chapter 7
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Fancy Pants stood outside his mansion in Canterlot, checking his pocket watch. The train from Ponyville should have arrived at the station twenty minutes ago. Allowing for getting off the train, collecting Rarity’s most likely prodigious amount of luggage, and boarding the carriage he had hired to ferry them, the sisters should be here within a few minutes.

It had been a long month, getting ready for Sweetie Belle and Rarity to visit. There had been lots of back and forth correspondence between himself and the two of them. Making plans, getting a soft schedule setup for each day, arranging and coordinating with other ponies --in the case of making introductions for Rarity-- reservations at restaurants; the list went on.

In between that, he had made some more private preparations. Since his assistant, Quick, had found his secret room --as had Fleur-- he concluded that it wasn’t actually that well hidden. So he’d turned the room into a storage and file room for all of his business papers and moved his shrine somewhere far more secure.

Dealing with the paparazzi had been a thorn in his side. As soon as he’d gotten back, he’d simply walked past them until he was standing on his front stoop. They had been surprised to see him outside, as they had assumed he’d been inside the entire time. He had held an impromptu press conference right there, spinning them a story about a slowly degrading relationship and how it had fallen apart.

He made it sound like it had been neither his nor Fleur’s fault, but simply something inevitable. While they may not have parted on the best of terms, he wished Fleur well in her future dealings and her career. He had then declined to answer any questions and retired inside.

They had printed his story, of course, but eventually left him alone in favor of bigger stories. It was a relief, not having ponies outside his door all the time and being able to go back to his normal life. Well, as normal as things could be given the prodigious amount of planning he had to do.

Quick Time herself had been invaluable the last month. She possessed a shrewd business mind that surprised Fancy. He was fulfilling his promise to train her in his business; show her what it was like to be in his position. She took to it quickly, absorbing everything he said.

He had negotiated with her in order to secure most of the week off that Sweetie would be here. He’d have to go into the office for a little bit, unfortunately, but he’d gotten Quick to take the sisters to the market that afternoon. It was a calculated risk on his part, but one he hoped would pay off. The mare had promised not to talk about his obsession, but he wasn’t entirely sure her career with him was enough to keep her silent if she decided to talk.

His time in Ponyville had garnered him a lot of good information. Now was the time to pay off on it. Rarity and Sweetie both trusted him, and he was slowly pushing Sweetie away from her sister. With what he knew about Blaze, he hoped to fully drive in the wedge, when the time was right.

The letters the filly sent him revealed more than perhaps she was intending to. In between her recaps of crusading adventures and her elation at being out of school were darker tales of her sister still being distant, of Blaze stealing her away, and of the growing rift between them. Without knowing it, Sweetie was a fount of information. 

Rarity being distant wasn’t quite the truth. He was well aware that young love blinded a pony to what was going on around them. The fashionista simply failed to notice what she was doing to her sister. Of course, Fancy wasn’t one to reveal the information he held to Sweetie. Having the filly be upset at her sister was only helping him.

He smiled to himself, thinking about his plans this week. As a rule, he didn’t rely on luck, only a solid plan. However, when dealing with things like this, a little luck was required. He was confident that this week would end with Sweetie fully trusting him.

His musings were interrupted by the sound of an approaching carriage. He saw the stallion he had hired coming down the road. With sure steps, he trotted down the walkway, standing just outside the gate.

The carriage pulled up, stopping with the door right in front of him. With a smile, he opened the door while giving a dramatic bow, revealing Rarity and a very excited Sweetie Belle. “Welcome to Canterlot, ladies.”

The filly didn’t even wait for him to help her down, instead just leaping out of the carriage and onto the sidewalk. Her large eyes took in everything around her. “Wow, your house is huge!”

Rarity took his offered hoof, descending the steps. The stallion had unlatched himself from the carriage harness and was now busy pulling what looked like several dozen suitcases off of the roof. “Manners, Sweetie,” Rarity said.

“It’s fine, Rarity,” Fancy replied. “It really is a big house. I just consider myself fortunate to have a yard. That is hard to come by in this city.”

Rarity nodded. “Yes, it would be. But thank you for not only the invitation, but for letting us stay here.”

“Oh it’s the least I could do after I invaded your own home. Besides, it is good to get away for awhile.” He eyed the growing stack of luggage on the sidewalk. “Though it looks like you brought most everything with you.”

“A lady must always be prepared for anything.”

“Of course,” he replied. “Most of the mares in my life have thought the same way.”

Sweetie was hopping around them. Fancy stooped down to draw her into a hug. “So, how was the train ride up here?”

“Long. But I brought my art supplies so I made some new drawings.”

The pony seemed to be done with the luggage. Fancy paid him, adding in an extra tip. “Shall we head inside and I will show you to your rooms?”

Sweetie nodded, her bouncing becoming more pronounced. “Yup! Let’s do this!”

Between himself and Rarity, they managed to get all of the bags. He had left his front door open, for just such a reason. The filly scampered inside ahead of them, Fancy politely waiting for Rarity to enter first.

Inside, he took the lead. “I’ll show you to your rooms, where you can get settled, and then I’ll give you a tour.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Rarity said. Fancy led them upstairs. Both the mare and the filly were looking around with very different expressions. Rarity had a measured look on her face, like she was evaluating everything but refraining from speaking her mind. Sweetie, on the other hoof, was wide-eyed, mouth agape, practically bursting with questions that she wanted to ask. He was surprised at her restraint when she didn’t speak.

At the top of the stairs he had three different hallways, one leading straight towards the back of the house, the other two leading to the different wings. Fancy gestured to the back hallway. “That leads to the second floor of the library, as well as a sitting room with a great view of the sunset. To the left is my study, a workshop, and my office. To the right are all the bedrooms.”

He headed to the right, Rarity’s bags floating alongside. There were four doors down this wing. He opened the first door. “Here is one bedroom. Rarity, this one is for you.” He gently set her bags down in a neat pile at the foot of the large bed in there.

Rarity added her own stack of bags to the pile while Fancy led Sweetie farther down the hall. “The next door is a bathroom, which unfortunately you will both have to share.” He opened the third door in the hall. “Here’s your room, Sweetie.”

The filly trotted in, looking around. “Wow, it’s big!”

Fancy chuckled. “Well, it is a big house. Only fitting it has big rooms to go along with it.” He gestured towards the door at the end of the hallway. “That is my room, so if either of you need anything during the night, just come knock.”

“Thank you, Fancy,” Rarity said.

“Please, take some time to get settled. When you’re ready, come meet me in the second floor sitting room, just down that back hallway.” He bowed low, causing Sweetie to giggle, before trotting off.

Both ponies headed into Rarity’s room, most likely to separate Sweetie’s bags from the mass of luggage. Fancy left them to their sorting, heading down into the kitchen. He had some water ready for tea all he had to do was warm it up.

As the kettle got hot, he sat at the kitchen table, going over his plans in his head. Most of the day was already gone, so there was no point in going anywhere or doing anything. Instead, it would just be some quiet time in the mansion, getting caught up with each other.

The kettle whistled, signalling that it was hot. Carefully, he picked it up in his magic, setting it on a tray along with three cups and a small bottle. He carried the whole ensemble up the stairs and into the sitting room. True to his word, the sun was getting ready to set over the horizon. Soon it would be filling the room with an array of colors through the large wall of windows.

Sweetie was, of course, the first to arrive. She looked around the room, taking in the assortment of comfortable chairs and several low tables. “You can sit a lot of ponies in here,” she remarked.

“Well, I use this room to entertain guests and during parties. So it makes sense to have a lot of room in here.” He held out his forelegs, the filly giggling as she rushed in to hug him. “Did you miss me, Sweetie?”

She pulled away from the hug, nodding her head. “Uh huh! You’re fun to hang around, for an old pony.”

He laughed, mussing up her mane with a hoof, eliciting an adorable squeak from the filly as she tried to straighten it out. “Glad that you approve.” He gestured to the chair next to him. “So, you mentioned in your last letter that you were going to try for a cider-making cutie mark. How did that work out?”

Sweetie stared forlornly at her still blank flank. “Not so well. Things started out ok, but then Scoots knocked over the barrel and we mixed up the ingredients to put into the cider, so it came out tasting icky.”

Fancy patted her shoulder. “You will figure it out. I have faith in you.”

“Thanks,” she said, though she still looked upset.

“I have a few ideas on things you can try for a cutie mark,” he said with a smile.

“Really?”

“Mmhmm. You can try them out and see if you enjoy them.”

The filly was nearly bouncing in her chair. “What are they?”

“Now, now. You’ll just have to wait.”

She pouted. “Stop teasing me.” She crossed her forelegs with an adorable ‘Hmph!’

“All in good time, Sweetie. I’ve got a lot of things planned for this week. Why waste it all on the first night?”

“Ugh, fine.” She uncrossed her forelegs.

Fancy held up the small bottle on the tray in his magic. “So since Rarity most likely will not be joining us for awhile yet, may I offer you some Apple Family Apple Juice?”

Sweetie nodded. “That sounds good, I’m actually pretty thirsty.

He knew from the week spent at Rarity’s that the apple juice was the filly’s favorite drink, so he’d made sure to stock up for this week. He poured a small amount in one of the cups, floating it over to Sweetie.

To his shock, she grasped it in her own magic, taking a sip and setting the cup down on the table, without ever touching it. “Somepony has been practicing,” he said, raising the eyebrow behind his monocle.

She smirked at him. “Yes, somepony has.”

“Cheeky,” he muttered, pouring himself some tea and sipping from it while trying not to laugh at Sweetie’s giggles. “What else have you learned?”

They spent the next ten minutes discussing magic, with Sweetie showing him a few other tricks she’d learned. It seemed that once he had helped her unlock the initial secret to magic, she was now learning at an advanced pace, catching up to all the other foals her age.

He continued to encourage her, while secretly suspecting she would plateau sometime soon. After all, there’s only so much magic one little filly can do. She’d unlock more of her magical potential as she got older, something he would be around to help teach her.

Rarity finally graced them with her presence as Fancy was demonstrating a basic spell used to conjure a ball of light. It was useful for navigating things in the dark, or for illuminating hard to read text as one got older and things got more difficult to read.

“I apologize for my delay,” Rarity said as she entered the room.

Fancy dismissed the ball of light. “It’s no problem. We were just discussing magic.”

“So I saw,” she said, slipping gracefully into a chair. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in all of the decor. In contrast, his eyes stayed fixed on her. He could see the signs of tiredness on her face. Tonight was going to be a slow night for his plans, since both of them were tired from traveling.

“Would you like some tea, Rarity?” Fancy asked.

She nodded. “That sounds wonderful, thank you.”

He poured some into the remaining cup for her. Thanks to an enchantment on the kettle, the tea inside was still hot. The mare took the cup and sipped politely from it. “Mmm, chamomile, my favorite.”

“So, how has business been?” he asked her. Unlike with Sweetie, he had not been exchanging letters with Rarity much, so while he had a clue, he knew no specifics about how she’d been doing.

“It’s going well. I had to rush to complete a few orders to be able to make this trip with a clean slate.”

He nodded. “I completely understand that. Running a business is difficult. The typical nine to five day simply doesn’t exist anymore.”

Rarity sipped her tea again. “Indeed. One would think that running a business means you could simply take off time whenever you want. But the opposite is true. It becomes hard to find a break.”

Fancy set his teacup back down in the saucer, refilling Sweetie’s cup as well. “You will be happy to hear that I have some activities planned out for us this week. There will be plenty of free time where we can choose what to do, as well.”

“What all do you have planned?” Rarity asked.

“Well, for starters, you,” he nodded towards Rarity,” have a little meet and greet to go to in two days. It’s a get-together of ponies associated with fashion here in Canterlot. Designers, boutique owners, as well as many of the nobles and elite will be there. It is nothing formal, simply a casual meeting over brunch and drinks.”

Rarity’s jaw dropped. “How? How did you even...?”

“I contacted the organizer and got you an invitation. It is two days from now at ten in the morning.”

The fashionista took a moment to compose herself. “Thank you, Fancy. I have no idea how I can repay you for that.”

He waved a hoof in the air. “This is already me repaying you. Let’s not start a cycle.”

Taking a moment to sip his tea once more, he continued on. “We have tickets to see a show tomorrow night. Plus, reservations for dinner beforehoof.” He turned his gaze towards Sweetie. “And, it took some wrangling, but I also managed to get us into afternoon tea with Princess Celestia three days hence.”

The filly's eyes grew large as she gasped. “Really?”

He nodded. “Indeed I did. You said that you wanted to meet her, so I worked to get us this opportunity.”

It had taken him calling in half a dozen favors, plus promising two more to other ponies, to get the tea on the schedule. It most likely would have been a lot easier if he had simply dropped Rarity's name, as an Element of Harmony she would be able to get them an audience. Yet he had wanted to do it on his own. This would prove to Sweetie that he would be able to deliver on all of his promises, as well as show Rarity that he was more than capable of handling himself and didn't need to rely on her name to get things done. That and he didn’t want whispers getting back around to the mare that he couldn’t do it himself.

He raised his hooves in the air, giving a shrug. “Beyond that, there are no plans. We'll just take things as they come along. If you'd like to spend the day lazing around the manor, then we shall. If you'd like to head out and explore the city, then we shall.”

“Well it certainly sounds like this'll be an interesting week, Fancy,” Rarity remarked.

“That's certainly what I was hoping.” Of course, he had far more plans than what he told them. Yet, those plans were to be kept secret. After all, a successful businesspony never revealed everything.

“However, it is too late in the evening to do more than eat some dinner and rest. I'm sure you are tired from your traveling.” He set down his teacup. “Before dinner, how about I take you on a tour of the manor?”

Sweetie hopped out of her chair, bouncing up and down. Rarity's exit was more sedate. “Yes, that sounds like a good idea.”

Fancy gestured to the room around them. “This is the upstairs sitting room. It's a wonderful place to relax with a good book. Or some crayons,” he stage whispered to Sweetie with a wink.

He led the two to a door leading away from the stairs. “And through here, we have the library.” The door emptied out onto a balcony that circled the entire room. Every wall was nothing but floor to ceiling bookshelves, each shelf stuffed with books. A spiral staircase led from the balcony down to the first floor. A few chairs dotted the balcony, but it was otherwise empty.

Sweetie looked around her in awe while Rarity's jaw dropped. “So many books,” the fashionista said. “Your collection may rival even Twilight's!”

“I quite enjoy reading,” Fancy chuckled, “ and have thus turned to collecting books. It's a fun little hobby. Feel free to browse the shelves, read any of them you like, even take them back to Ponyville with you. After all, I am sure that we will meet again for me to get them back from you.”

They next moved down the stairs. In the middle of the library was a comfortable looking reading area. There were two doors leading out of the room, one to the left wing and one to the right wing. He opened the door into the right wing and gestured them through.

On the other side was a large living room. Plush couches and chairs, coffee tables and end tables, a gigantic fireplace, all filled the room. “This is the main living room. It is where I entertain guests and host parties. Despite its looks, all of the furniture is for using, so there is nothing forbidden to sit or lay on in here.”

The living room took up much of the right wing. Another door simply led out into the entry hall, which they had already seen. Instead, he led them into the left wing. The first room was the dining room, with a long table that could seat twenty ponies, but usually only sat one to two.

Beyond the dining room was the kitchen. There was a much smaller table there where Fancy usually took his meals. A back door led out into the backyard, which was quite sizable. A well-manicured lawn covered the ground. A patio held several chairs, as well as a small pathway leading to a gazebo.

Finished with the tour, Fancy led his two charges back into the kitchen. “I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of preparing a light soup for dinner.”

“You cooked it?” Sweetie asked?

“Yes, I did. Why, is that surprising?” He winked at the filly. “You've seen me cook back when I was at your place.”

“Well, yeah. I dunno. I guess I just figured that...” her voice trailed off as she struggled to figure out how to word what she wanted to say.

“You thought that perhaps I had a cook to do it for me?”

She nodded. “I mean... Yeah.”

Fancy chuckled. “While it is true I can afford to have a cook, I choose to do the cooking myself most of the time. Or go out to eat. The only ponies I hire around here are a pair of maids who come in once a week. After all, this is far too large of a house to attempt to clean it all by yourself.”

“That makes sense, I guess.”

The soup was kept warm in a pot on the stove. It was nothing more than some broth and a few vegetables tossed in. He ladled three portions into three bowls, setting one to a chair at the small table in there. After collecting drinks, he sat down with the sisters.

“While you are here, my house is your house. You are free to go in any room. Though I do ask that you please respect my office and workshop. Especially the papers in my office. It would be a pain to have to reorganize them all. But other than that, do what you wish.”

The three of them chatted over the soup. Fancy questioned them about the last month, while they returned the favor. It was lighthearted conversation, mixing well with the light dinner. By the time the dishes were washed and sitting out to dry, Sweetie was yawning, with Rarity not faring much better.

Fancy escorted them up to their rooms. “Remember, the bathroom is in between your rooms. If you get hungry or thirsty in the night, feel free to wander into the kitchen and grab whatever you'd like.” He gave each of them a hug, though he did hold the one with Sweetie just a little longer. “Now, I bid you each a good night.”

They all went into their respective rooms. Fancy wasn't all that tired, so he laid out on his bed. He heard the shower running for a bit, and then silence descended over the manor. The sun had fallen below the horizon, Luna's moon bathing the land in a silvery glow.

Two hours after separating from the sisters, Fancy put down his book. Everything had been silent for an hour now, and given how tired those two appeared, it seemed like the perfect time to enact one of his plans.

Getting out of the bed, he walked over to a section of the wall that separated his room from the one in which Sweetie was sleeping. Gently, he pushed on the wall, causing it to swing open silently.

Assigning Sweetie to this particular room had not been done arbitrarily, as he had made it seem. No, it was all part of his plans that she be in this room.

In the moonlight filtering in through the large windows, he could see her, laying in bed. She looked like an angel, curled up and with her mane and tail spilling out across the bed. It was a warm night, so she had forsaken the covers entirely.

He moved over to the side of her bed, sitting on the floor. Gently, he reached out with a hoof, running it through her mane. She stirred for a moment, before letting out a little murr of contentment while he stroked her.

He caressed her, being careful to not wake her up. She felt so soft, so delicate, so perfect, under his touch. How he had missed this when they were separated. He had missed being near her, being able to talk to her, see her, feel her. She was his Sweetie Belle.

Leaning over, he pressed his lips to her forehead, letting them linger. He inhaled her scent, tasted her. He memorized every aspect of her, imprinting it into his mind.

It was some time later that he left her room, going back through the secret door and closing it behind him. He longed to be able to slip into her bed, hold her close. But to do so would be to play his hoof too early. He needed Sweetie to come to him, or failing that, make sure she was ready.

No, he would still have to wait. But this week would pay massive dividends, of that he was sure. He had everything planned out.

Climbing back into his bed, he lay back on the pillows. A tired, yet content smile lingered on his features. Everything was perfect. He had his Sweetie with him, and plans were in motion. Soon, she would be all his. He fell asleep, still smiling.