> SINless Desire
>  by Journeyman
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> SINless Desire (Full Cut)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	SINless Desire

The cavernous garage was loaded with the silhouettes of various vehicles with the makes and models masked behind walls of darkness. The emergency lights that provided scant light revealed the smooth and gleaming lines of ground and aerial vehicles, testaments to pride and a healthy amount of money. 

The dark was cut by a pneumatic door hiss as a lone woman walked out of the employee entrance and into the plain, gray, and exceptionally boring excuse of a parking lot. As the doors shut behind her and clicked as they locked, she ventured forth. Her muffled steps were eaten by a series of cascading clicking sounds as the lights, detecting a presence in the formerly empty space, turned on.

At just under five and a half feet, she was short, rail thin, and very leggy. Her entire body was uniformed in a drab form-fitting mixture of red and gray that gave only the slightest hint of a bosom. Each hand was covered in a shiny black glove, just like her feet were covered in solid black work-shoes polished to a shine. Rather than walk to an automobile, she circled wide and walked along the tier encircling the room with slow, unfocused steps. Her rich blue eyes, rather than filled with delight at having finally gotten the chance to see the skies rather than a desk or cubicle, were drained of emotion, tired, and full of fatigue beyond that of a weary body.

She walked along the tier and towards a row of equipment lockers lining the entire wall. Hundreds of cars populated the garage, and an equal number of lockers lined the walls. She approached a locker that was indistinguishable from the rest, save for the number printed across the door one digit higher than its clone on the left, and one lower than its clone on the right. 

She swiped her wrist across the electronic eye placed below the numeric code. The door clicked and swung open with the grating squeak of unoiled hinges. Inside was a simple cloth knapsack, a change of clothes, and a few knickknacks and baubles to lighten up the otherwise dreary locker. Taped on the inside of the door was an aged photograph. A stick of a girl with hair cascading to the small of her back was dragging a piece of firewood towards a woman tending to a firepit. The woman was smiling in laughter and tender love towards the girl, who was glaring at the wood for weighing more than her tiny muscles could lift. 

For a brief moment, the woman allowed herself to caress the photo with her right hand while her left twitched at her side. The woman in the photo had red hair while the little girl had a shock of gold, but they still shared the same heart-shaped face, eyes, and dimpled smile. Tracing down the woman’s shoulder brought her down the woman’s outstretched arm, palm open and reaching for something. Whatever she was grasping for would be forever lost, as the rightmost edge of the photo had been burned away.

The woman grabbed her knapsack, stuffed her extra clothes inside, and slammed the door. The employee exit wasn’t much of a walk away, and it hissed open to reveal the first wall of steel and concrete that defined the urban sprawl. Stepping out of the garage, her blue eyes looked towards the heavens. A thick layer of bloated rainclouds blocked out any starlight. Running one gloved hand through her shoulder-length golden pleats, she used the other to touch the id badge attached to her breast.

Eden Enterprises
Calibration Technician

“I got a name, you bloody wankers.”

The tag was ripped off her shirt with a wordless snarl. As if the very gods were offended by her malcontentment, the angry skies opened up and let loose a torrential downpour, quickly soaking her uniform. Shivering slightly, her gloved hands rubbed her arms to provide a little warmth, only succeeding to rub the moisture deeper into the fabric.

Readjusting her knapsack, the technician quickly ducked under the overhang that shielded new arrivals from any heavenly wrath. Despite the clouds being little more than an unending mass of black, the cityscape was utterly alight. 

“Home sweet home in the City of Night. What the hell, Seattle?” City of Night. What moron started that name? Even without the moon circling above, the clouds were still tinted orange with city lights. Despite it being ten at night and the radiant moonlight shielded behind walls of clouds, the City of Night was better off being called the City of Light. Solar powered streetlights guided the technician’s eyes left and right. Past the employee and guest parking lots was the—shockingly—empty highway and skyway. Normally vehicles would be loading the hard road and skyways with traffic, but here they were, empty and silent. The rest of her gaze was filled with concrete and the blinding eyes of an unending mass of city light.

Deciding that standing under the overhang wouldn’t get her any closer to home, the technician did her best to maneuver from overhang, to canopy, to cubby. Vehicles were expensive, and it was overall cheaper to take mass transit rather than to buy and upkeep a vehicle. “Catching a tube is gonna be tough enough wading through this,” she sighed and rolled her eyes at the heavens. Raising a thin, dainty hand to brush the hair plastered to her face behind her ears, she increased her pace across the darkened streets. Well-lit as they were, even in the titanic central business district, they were still dark. Dark in the worst possible way.

Corporate offices, R&D centers, and pyramid-shaped arcologies thrust from the hard concrete, steel, and stone ground; that was the norm as she exited the monolithic shadow of her corporate workspace and pavilion. Hiding between each titanic building were a billion points of light from one of dozens of city districts. Gray was an omnipresent hue, despite the steady trickle of people she saw after leaving work. Free from her corporate cage and the underground, the steady hum of chattering voices and milling bodies became increasingly more common.

Blacks, grays, whites, reds, blues, and clothing of every hue in between cloaked the city masses; there were simply too many colors to count given the sudden onslaught of people across the labyrinthian concrete walkways after she left Eden’s dominion. People wormed and shoved their way past each other in a practiced dance abandoned in favor of ducking their heads and running for cover like her to escape the sudden, inexplicable downpour. Standing at an intersection to wait for a passing vehicle was a balding man in an immaculate business suit. Unlike her and many others, this one had the foresight to bring an umbrella. She still thought that the umbrella was not to keep himself dry, but the suitcase cuffed to his wrist.

‘Ahhhhh...’ she hummed to herself, ‘A Johnson...’ Nameless, faceless, and completely forgettable, a Mr. Johnson was the go-to mask of anonymity for underhanded dealings. Johnson was a common surname, after all. Stopping at the same intersection, she made sure to keep her distance from the man. He didn’t even acknowledge her, for which she was thankful. The last thing she needed was a “job offer” from a Johnson. Good results for a Johnson resulted in fairly lucrative profits. Bad results resulted in fairly lethal gunshot wounds.

The last polysteel car whizzed by the pair, a silver hovercar made by... well, she wasn’t exactly sure. The black tinted windows hid the occupants inside. Looking both ways, she hoisted her knapsack and sprinted across the noisy street. A quick look back revealed that the Johnson hadn’t moved an inch. He checked his watch, an archaic spring and gear thing from god only knows where.

“Hey, chummer, runnin’ late?” said a portly man in the back of his hovercar-drawn food stand. He had parked parallel to one of the cyclopean towers of business and city hubris. She could smell the scent of stir fry and fresh noodles. An array of steamed veggies assaulted her sensitive nose and she indulged a moment of weakness with a deep intake of breath.

“Just got out.”

“Let me guess. Dataslave?” the cook asked, using the colloquial slang for a corporate drone. He shed his gloves and dried what sweat remained on his stained apron. His rotund gut stretched the fabric precariously tight, as several frayed seams attested.

“Yeppers.”

“Name’s Porky.”

The woman slipped, but was unsure if she could blame it on the wet ground or her near pratfall. “What stupid blighter names himself Porky?” The technician blew at a strand of hair that resolutely clung to the side of her face. It refused to move. “Sophia.”

“Well, Sophia, that would be Porky Senior.”

“I’m sure he was charmed,” she snarked. At least the overhang was enough to block out the downfall. Rain beat like thunder above her head. Given the small reprieve, she tried to squeeze a little bit of moisture out of her braids.

“Oh, surely.” Strangely, he sounded quite sincere. “You know what? I’ll drop a few nuyen for a bowl.” Porky brandished his arms. Behind him was a small fryer and several veggies stored behind a cooler’s sliding glass door. 

Oh, the siren call of noodles and body-destroying sodium. “Sorry, but got to catch a tube.” Double-checking her bag, she prepared for a quick jog. 

Porky shrugged, another customer inevitably lost to the downpour. “Stop by sometime. I’m here every week.’

She nodded before dashing off into the night. Lightning slithered behind the clouds while fat raindrops assaulted her neck, back and shoulders. The cracked concrete beneath her shoes was slowly becoming slick with moisture, making even her reasonably brisk pace hazardous. Fortunately, Porky’s stand was only two more blocks away from one of the Seattle metro entrances. The great gaping maw bled scant light and she rushed into its embrace.

The underground access was hemorrhaging people profusely, yet few were entering the dark underground like her. The doors were constantly open with the stream of people and the floors slick with moisture. More than once she removed her hand from her shoulder to steady herself on the rail.

Any water that had progressed so deep underground was drained away via the sewer grate at the bottom of the steps. Her shoes thudded lightly as she passed, her exceedingly small frame carrying little weight. Holographic ads plastered the metal walls. Two gear girls speaking in a foreign language held a bottle of some type of soft drink. A polished car fresh off the assembly lines. The newest cyberware equipment fit for domestic or work life.

Sophia ignored the ads and kept shuffling. Hearing a grinding and a hiss ahead, she picked up the pace. She came across a set of gleaming turnstiles that contrasted with the cracked concrete floor and a few flickering holovids. There was a slow stream of people moving to and from them, each swiping cards or inserting credsticks to pay for a trip. She swiped her wrist across another electronic eye. The red light across the base flashed green and the turnstile door clicked to allow her passage.

“Oh, fuck,” she cursed. It was the curse of trains and metros everywhere to never run on time, and it was just her luck to hear the low hum that heralded the metro’s exodus. She darted around a corner and across the final stretch. Each compartment was perfectly identical to the next and always reminded her of a smooth, distended brick. The very low, almost inaudible, hum of the magclamps bore down on the air like some great weight. The air conditioning must have been broken, for the heat radiated through the door in waves, carrying with it the funk that came with all metros available to the public sector.

The door snapped shut and locked just as the strap of her knapsack fluttered past the threshold. Sophia braced her palms against her knees and panted to soothe the slowly-growing stitch in her side. “Girl, you are out of shape.”  Sweat and rain plastered her clothes and hair to her body. What few curves she had would have been obscenely outlined had her uniform been made of quality linen. ‘The benefits of mass production and cheap materials.’

The occupants didn’t even look remotely surprised or perplexed by her late arrival. An androgynous man—woman? It was hard to tell—leaned his head against the shoulder of an asian male. He looked well off in his pristine work shirt and loosened blue tie. There was a middle-aged man with a ragged shirt, jacket, and trousers. The shoes, she noticed, were snake skins under platinum engravings.

‘Zoe’s designer line, eh?’ she couldn’t help but chuckle silently to herself. If the man was trying to be inconspicuous, he certainly failed at that.

Sophia walked towards the door to the next compartment. Getting on so late had taken up most of the good seats and some even decided to stand and chat. She ignored them and walked, looking for a place to sit.

She stopped. ‘Wait...’

She turned her head and scanned the compartment behind her once more. Men, women, and others. A pair of elves, and a stout dwarf decked out in enough cybertech and gizmos to guarantee he was a rigger. Some with cybernetic replacements, some without. None of which matched the image in her head, that of a single individual who might—just might—be on the metro with her.

The door opened with a hiss to grant her access to the next compartment. There were fewer people compared to the other compartment: a muscular injun with a cybernetic red eye, a busty gear girl in a cocktail dress with seams across her arms outlining her poorly hidden replacement limbs, a rather appealing shirtless man that made her lick her lips after she got a good look at him, and several others that didn’t match the man in her head. Several people were looking at the holovid on the wall. The audio was muted, but the captions coupled with the visual stretched across the screen told a compelling enough tale.


NEWFOUND RELATIONS WITH AWAKENED ARRIVALS DEEMED “EXTRAORDINARILY PROMISING,” ACCORDING TO AN ARES MACROTECHNOLOGY SPOKESPERSON


The screen was showing footage of several diplomats and armed personnel approaching two... somethings. The first was a broad-chested creature that greatly resembled a small horse or large pony, but the proportions were all wrong. The eyes were large and expressive, and the snout far less defined than earthen equines. Despite never having an affinity for livestock or animal genetics, something about the creature seemed unerringly male. Perhaps it was the large fetlocks and stout posture, lantern jaw, or even something as totally normal as the horn protruding from his head.

His companion was even more difficult to comprehend. Unicorns were reserved for children and tripping balls every other Friday, not living creatures. At least they were known, recognizable creatures, something his pink companion was not. Gold and violet locks hugged her youthful face. A biologist Sophia was not, but the slender form and smooth curves gave her the impression the other creature was female. What didn’t make sense was the pair of wings attached to her side.

“There’s a reason I don’t watch the fuckin’ news,” she said with a derisive laugh. A few occupants chuckled along with her before returning to their weary languor. She opened up the next compartment. Sleepy and tired individuals lined the seats, although fewer than the previous. The aisle was empty and her the sound of her light steps was eaten by human chatter and the low hum of the metro.

Her thoughts returned to the broadcast. She had known of the extraterrestrials for quite some time. Fantastical or not... what did it matter? Even the confirmation of such foreigners seemed insignificant. She was just a corporate drone working five days a week, eight hours a day. She went home, washed, rinsed, put in a movie, and waited for the next day. She drifted about, meeting the occasional friend. No career ladder to climb. No significant other, male or female, to come home to every night.

‘Aliens...’ she thought, tasting the word as much as she could. She reached within the confines of her mind amongst all the wires, circuits, gears, cyberware, and tools almost three decades of life had taught her to use and build. Every child dreamed of aliens or monsters or fey at some point. To have confirmation that they were real, to know they carried a life possibly more fantastical and wondrous than any childish whimsy and dream...

Nothing...

There was nothing there, not even a spark of life. She couldn’t even muster a laugh.

There were twenty cars in total, with the twenty-first being reserved for the metro’s electronic brain. At car nineteen and only a scant five in the compartment, her face had all but sunken into a scowl. ‘Goddamn it, Gunny. I’m pissed and tired as it is. You better be here.’ The moment of truth came and the final door opened.

The last car was empty save for a hulking mountain of a man lying across several seats to her left. Unlike the hodgepodge of civilian garbs seen elsewhere on the train, this man was dressed head to toe in iron gray surplus military fatigues and an olive green overshirt under an officer-issued coat. While his clothes were immaculate and wrinkle-free, the coat was frayed at the hems and the rank across the shoulders had long been ripped away. Polished black boots and fingerless gloves cloaked the rest of his body, but his coat settled unevenly across his burly chest; he was wearing something underneath, something she guessed was totally not gun-shaped. She supposed that was the reason he had a compartment all to himself.

“Lie down and shut up, Syn. This will take only a minute,” the man barked. He spoke with a light baritone as his fingers danced across what she recognized as a handheld cyberdeck, a personal computer. His eyes, she knew, were cybernetic as well. She worked with cybertech enough to distinguish the slight difference between real eyes and replicants. She laid down on the seats opposite the man and closed her eyes. The man worked silently and ignored her for several more moments.

“Done,” he said. 

Palms down, she quickly pushed herself into a sitting position. Her seat emitted a strange funk that made her nose burn and made her eager to remain away. A series of pops arched across her back and she winced under the new strain her body was placed under. 

After a few more button taps, he folded the screen down and reattached the cyberdeck to his wrist with a soft click. His black hair and hazel eyes framed a scarred, angular face and a nose sharp enough to cut wood. “You look like shit.”

“Stuff it, Gunny. A dataslave like me has a legit way to pay bills. Just got off work. I’m tired, frustrated, and am ready to pass out on your titanic arse, a’right?” the so-called “Syn” shot back.

Gunny snorted before checking his other wrist. All Sophia saw was a flash of green across a small mechanical device before he straightened his coat, hiding it from sight. “If you are frustrated, I’m the wrong guy to talk to.”

“Wrong kind of frustrated.”

Sophia couldn’t keep her pokerface as dawning comprehension, and then abashed embarrassment cracked through his smile. Gunny broke eye contact to compose himself and settled on saving face. He contorted himself around and tapped the plasteel paneling behind him. In the center was a small pinhole just barely visible to the naked eye, but what caught her attention was the easy-to-miss sheen across the surface.

“Neat little gizmo I got from Valentine; god only knows where she picked it up. Transparent carbon nanotube fabric powered by a tiny solar battery. Tricky little thing that you can slip over the lens of any camera and it will loop the footage, with the proper software.” He brandished his retracted cyberdeck. “For as long as I want, you’re passed out and I’m playing solitaire or some shit. Now get your ass over here.” Gunny slammed a boot down on the seat next to him, a ghost of a grin on his lips.

“Alright; just don’t eat me.” Although only said in jest, it highlighted just how much Gunny dwarfed her in size. She was very slender compared to most Seattle residents. Gunny had eight inches and at least a hundred pounds on her. “But first...” 

Gunny could look down the barrel of an AUG without flinching, so it gave her no end of satisfaction to see the man turn and look out the window like a flustered teen. She reached around her back and pulled down the zipper of her work uniform. The disgusting feeling of clothing bonded to skin by moisture, be it rain water or sweat, finally relinquished its hold as offending article flopped in a pile. Making quick work of the clothes in her bag, she dressed herself and stuffed away her soiled laundry, her shark grin growing in equal measures to Gunny’s blush.

She sat beside him in a pair of brown trousers and a loose white shirt under a green jacket, her spare clothes from work. Her gloves still hid her hands from view. Gunny took all of this in in the space of a single moment before he leaned over to ruffle her hair. “How’s my favorite punching bag been?” he said, pretending that nothing had just occurred.

‘Oh, Gunny; for all of your talk, a pair of boobs beats your bullets.’ She looked down. ‘Now only if I had a pair.’

“Bloody bored is how she’s been. Not much for one such as me t’do when I’m rottin’ in a cubicle or working on the line, y’know.”

“Then get the fuck out,” he retorted. Sophia punched him in the shoulder playfully and winced. It was like punching a brick wall. “Switch jobs, join me and the gang, get laid; do something other than rot away.”

“Wish I could.” Sophia’s eyes had drifted to this compartment’s holovid screen stuck in the opposite wall. The cameraman’s movements were twitchy and nervous, but were centered on a pair of creatures similar to the pink winged unicorn from before. One was very tall, maybe even taller than Gunny, and had a coat as white as the purest snow. She was bent low and speaking to a lavender-coated creature. Behind them was some titanic machine that gleamed with luminescent energy. Before she could get a better look, several ponies in armored barding that surrounded the base of the machine froze in place before the camera feed cut to black. All the while, the same two headings lined the bottom of the screen. “Not much good work for me out there that hasn’t been taken.”


ALLEGED U.C.A.S. WHISTLEBLOWER WARNS OF SUSPICIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES CONCERNING EQUESTRIAN ARRIVALS. METHOD OF TRANSPORTATION DEEMED “NOT A RELIABLE VECTOR FOR SAFE TRANSPORT AND MISSING SEVERAL VARIABLES TO BE PHYSICALLY PLAUSIBLE.” 



A JOINT MEETING OF ARES MACROTECHNOLOGY AND U.C.A.S. PERSONNEL IS SCHEDULED TO REVIEW THE ISSUE AT AN UNSPECIFIED DATE.


Gunny snorted again when he saw what she was looking at. “Don’t say one word about those ponies. I’m in a good mood. I want to stay in a good mood.”

“What’s wrong? Got ponies and dollies as a kid instead of macho action figures and gun catalogs, eh?”

“Forgive me if I’m not impressed by horses farting rainbows,” he replied, causing Sophia to raise an eyebrow. “Don’t get me wrong, Soph. It’s not that I hate them, I just don’t give a shit about them. What I am tired of is hearing everyone else talk about nothing else. It gets... grating.”

Sophia nodded in understanding. “One can only undertake so much, I guess. Even you.”

“I’m not known for my patience. I’m not hired for it either.”

Gunny leaned his head back and closed his eyes. That left Sophia with just the right angle to look straight at the camera, the one being fed nothing but looped footage. “You were setting that up before I got here.”

“Eh?” He opened his eyes lazily.

“Y’know, Valentine’s little gizmo.” She nodded towards the camera. “If you’re just getting on and off, why set that up? You’re not doing anything... drastic before we get off, right? Ah, bloody hell.” 

Sophia’s face fell. Why else would Gunny, the walking tank, blind a camera? The man was, however, smirking upon seeing her worry. “S’nothing. Not on job right now. Just meeting Atherton at our usual hole and he might have one for me, but nothin’ now. Said he needs to talk.”

“Then—”

“I don’t like being watched,” he said with finality. “Security cameras, SIN designations assigned at birth, and security patrols. Everything is monitored, Soph. You’re used to it. You work the system because you have to. I won’t be caught dead working in one of those places.”

He sighed. Rather than being exasperated, he seemed... content. Relaxed. “It just eats at my brain. I can’t rest. I can’t have something for myself like that. Just for a couple minutes on a train it may be, but these are a few minutes I can be myself. You can’t trust a good man to be good when eyes are on him. You can only do that once he’s behind a locked door. People aren’t the same when they know they are being watched, because they instinctively change their behavior to not get in trouble. I’m not looking for trouble, but I want to be a good man because I am a good man, not because Big Brother is always watching.”

He leaned his head back once again. A man as seemingly big and violent at first glance relaxing like a babe in the crib proved quite the contrast. “I just want to be me on my terms. No eyes, no regrets, just a lingering sense of peace. I want a little peace of mind.”

Sophia slipped her knapsack off her shoulders and opened it up. “That was a good speech.”

“Yeah, but that last part might have been a bit much... Is that nutrisoy?”

The faint aroma of cheaply processed soy passed both of their noses. Sophia had opened a small lunchbox from within her knapsack’s confines. “Yup, want some?”

Horror and disgust painted a priceless portrait. It was truly a delight to see a man packing heat afraid of something as simple as food. “Aw, hell no! That shit taste like pain and asses.”

Gunny moved to swipe the box out of her hands, but she leaned back to avoid the theft. “Try that again and I will nail your dick to the wall!”

Last time she checked, she wasn’t under any threat of death. The look Gunny gave her made her think otherwise. Nutrisoy wasn’t that bad. She even had a few steamed carrots, rice, and soy sauce in for flavor. As she ate, a silence passed over the pair. Neither broke it until her dish was half depleted. “I saw a Johnson today.”

“Oh?” That got his attention. He laid back against the metal braces on the far end of the seat and sprawled out. Sophia scooted down a seat in order to make room for his long legs. The vinyl on some of the seats had peeled in places, revealing the dull cushion underneath. “Was he for you?”

“No. Thank god for that.”

“What?” A smile tugged at his lips. “Is the Brit scared of a Johnson? There’s always Plan B.” He opened his jacket and confirmed her suspicions: a holstered pistol.

“No,” she replied sharply. “One: Not armed. Two: Never will be.”

“Well, you could always just say no to a Johnson.”

“Correction: you could say no to a Johnson.”

“Don’t be a pussy.”

“Gunny, there is no way my scrawny arse is going to win if they strongarm me. I’m tiny. You’re three hundred pounds of metal and beef rolled up in trench coats and gun oil.” Gunny choked on his saliva at that. He swung his knees of the seat and bent in half, chortling all the while.

Sophia slapped him on the back a few times until he got his breathing under control. “You know, for all the shit you throw around when we’re all talking online, you’re alright in person.”

“I’m...” Gunny sniggered, “I’m just a name online. If I keep up the act, I can throw people off if they look for me. I got a face and a life I don’t show anyone, rookie. Not lightly.”

She felt her chest puff with a little bit of pride. “Thanks.”

“Don’t let it go to your head, kid.”

She punched him in the shoulder. “You’re not that older than me.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow mockingly. He opened his mouth to add some sort of retort, but she held up a finger to silence him.

“You never ask a lady her age.”

“Lady? You swear more than I do. Chummer, I’ve seen you piss drunk. A scrawny bitch you may be, I’ve seen you drink a marine under the table, swearing all the while like a sailor balls deep in a Jap whore.”

“Jealous?” She smiled coyly and licked her lips as sensually as she could muster. Feminine charms did not work on Gunny this time, as he punched her mockingly in the shoulder. Unlike her own playful jab, he almost knocked her off her seat. She got an eyeful of the holovid’s next media heading as she lay sprawled across the vinyl. Was there anything else going on other than ponies? Wasn’t something on fire or being stolen? Could a politician get his face peeled off by a gangbanger just to mix things up?


NEGOTIATIONS IN PLACE TO LIMIT TRAVEL QUOTAS TO AND FROM EQUESTRIAN REALMS



QUESTIONS POSED TO ARES MACROTECHNOLOGY AND GREAT DRAGON DUNKELZAHN ABOUT DETAILS CONCERNING EQUINE WORLDS AND/OR REALMS HAS SO FAR GONE UNANSWERED


The video was showing the white unicorn from before, along with his strange winged unicorn companion, the purple one, and the tall white creature together speaking to members wearing uniforms of the Saeder-Krupp and Ares Macrotechnology corporations. The tall white pony, the leader of the group, if Sophia had to hazard a guess, was speaking to a well-dressed caucasian man with long silver hair and golden eyes.

Gunny grabbed her hand and pulled her to her seat, breaking her gaze away from the screen. “Speaking of the net, I got a question for you.” A seed of dread manifested in the pit of her gut and started asking for tequila. She had little to no expertise in official online business, so he must be talking about her other online activities.

Warily, but patiently, she nodded for him to continue. “Why pick the name “Synergy” for an online handle? Out of all the names... or is it for the obvious reason...?” 

She tried to keep her face straight, but something must have leaked through. Confirmation of some private suspicion was in his eyes. “Just because. It was the first thing that came to mind.”

“Aw, come on. I’ll tell you where I got the nickname Gunny.”

“Bugger off; you’re prying.” He was a lot further away than she remembered. She looked down, counting the seats. Gunny hadn’t moved. She had moved away from him, desperately clutching her left arm as she leaned away from her friend.

Gunny slowly raised both hands calmly. “Alright, alright. I’ll cut it out.” The embers of anger were brewing within the technician, all because she could sniff true regret coming from him. True regret and, if her gut was accurate, pity. Watching a bunch of slack-jawed maggots squablle over new design specs and managers pulling lies out of their asses had given Sophia good practice at reading body language. But what was he looking for?

“I’ve got to keep some things for myself,” she evaded. She watched him studiously to see if he took the bait.

Gunny flattened a few creases on his jacket, carefully selecting his words before responding. “Fine. You know where I’ll be if you ever want to trade stories. Or just want to unload. I like you, Soph. You’re not alone in this shithole city. Even if you just want to talk.”

‘Shit,’ she cursed internally. Privacy was one thing Gunny valued in high regard, so she knew he wouldn’t press the issue, but this was something he wasn’t going to forget. She just knew it.

“What job was Atherton calling you for?” she asked in an attempt to change the subject. “That mad bastard got another scheme in his head?”

“No details yet. Well...” he said conspiratorially. All dour that had infected the atmosphere earlier had jumped ship and she leaned in closer like a child at storytime. “I can speculate a little. For one, I heard Eden Enterprise’s name get thrown around a fair bit. He just might come knocking at your door if he needs to have a mole.”

“Well, tell him to pack his shiny toys and suave smile and bloody swagger and get the fuck out; I don’t do favors or jobs that involve a yearly bonus of lead enemas.”

“I’ll make sure to recommend you, then.” 

Sophia sighed exasperatedly, making sure to drag out the noise to be as annoying as she could possibly make it. She was low on money as it was, and Gunny knew she was placed under financial pressure. His less than subtle job offer did not go unnoticed.

Still... If Atherton paid well...

“What else?” She didn’t want to think about the appeal any more than she had to. ‘Atherton is careful, but bloody hell does he like to take the long shot.’

He held up a hand and started counting off names. “That greaser—can’t remember his name—is getting called in. So is Valentine, Dominic, and the King. Atherton doesn’t want to do anything serious until he has another, however; some ‘full-of-herself street magician or illusionist.’ His words, not mine.”

“King? King Kludge? What does Atherton need that guy in for? He never does any legwork.”

Gunny shook his head. “I don’t think he is, or needs to be. I think he’s going to be bankrolling the operation, whenever Atherton decides what he wants to do and when he finds this mage of his.”

Sophia chewed on her tongue, mulling over the intel. It didn’t sound like Atherton was ready either way. No pressure to take a job, then. Even if it paid well, agonizing over a job always sucked. Picking up a toothpick, she viciously speared the last few cubes of nutrisoy and deposited them into her mouth.

“Disgusting.”

She shuffled the toothpick and spat it at the man. It harmlessly bounced off of his forehead. “Fuck you, Gunny.”

The main topics of interest exhausted, their conversations dived into the more and more tangential until the metro lurched slightly. They were coming to a stop. Gunny sighed, but Sophia took a moment to stretch. Her stop was the one after this. A soft, female voice echoed over the PA system.


WE WILL SOON BE ARRIVING AT THE CRAFTSMAN DISTRICT. THOSE DEPARTING, PLEASE GATHER YOUR BELONGINGS.


Gunny cracked his neck and stood. At his full height, he could stand on his toes and brush the ceiling with his hands. He plopped back into his seat and removed the cyberdeck from his wrist. “Back to your seat, ‘lady.’”  The last bit was thick with sarcasm, something she replied with a one-fingered victory salute before lying back down on the other set of seats. She closed her eyes and let Gunny work whatever software he used on his little gadget. She had enjoyed the friendly chat quite well. “Alright, big brother is back on watch.”

Sophia opened her eyes and focused hard to conjure a wide yawn as the metro jerked and slowed to a low speed. “See ya on the flip side, chummer.”

Gunny walked towards the door, looking at anything other than her. If anyone was watching for the last ten to twenty minutes, they never spoke a word to each other.

“Gunny?”

“Yeah?”

The floor wasn’t that interesting, yet that didn’t stop her from trying to melt a hole through the plasteel flooring if she stared at it long enough. Her left arm twitched involuntarily and she clutched it tightly. It was warm in the metro car, but now it seemed so, so very cold.

“Thanks.”

He was nothing but a blurry shape of green and black out of the corner of her eye, but something about the way he composed himself was very unlike the cold aloofness or the crude playfulness she had come to know as Gunny, the gentle and exceedingly well-armed giant.

“No prob, Soph. Anytime. I’m not the best company, but.... be safe. I may not sound like it most of the time and I know you can take care of yourself, but I worry.” Sophia couldn’t see his face from her current angle, but the truth rang in his words.

“I’m glad I met you,” she said. Gunny did not reply. She didn’t want or need him to.

The mood was cut like the slash of a sword. As the metro hissed and groaned to a stop, Sophia saw Gunny do something out of the corner of her eye she had never expected a warrior to do: freeze. Curiosity stronger than anything, she turned to look out the window.

A small rabble of ponies, each with a silver band around a foreleg, stood ready and eager behind the metro safety line. That alone was odd. Why were any of them even there in the first place? The holovid had said there were travel quotas, and yet here were a group of them right in front of her. Why weren’t they at least escorted?

The group had walked forward as the doors opened, all of them with eyes wide with wonder and amazement. They had stepped forward, their hooves giving several loud, disharmonious clip-clops across the hard steel metro platform. Most Seattle citizens instinctively walked as quietly as possible given the city’s... reputation with those like Gunny. That, and none of the ponies were wearing anything other than horseshoes and a few saddlebags.

The ponies stopped and stood stock still, staring at the door. More appropriately, they were staring at Gunny.

‘What are you doing now you cheeky git?’ she couldn’t help but think as her head mechanically turned to the brute.

Gunny... was smiling. Not that knowing smile. Not that joking smile, or even his sarcastic grin. His eyes were alight with mirth, yet none of it touched his smile. The corners of his mouth kept pulling back more and more as he watched the herd close rank around each other.

“Hah...” Sophia barely heard it. It couldn’t have been a laugh. More like the end result of air simply escaping his lungs. With smooth, slow strides, Gunny walked out the door. The group of ponies parted like ants around a new body of water as he passed, the ex-soldier smirking all the way. Sophia watched his green jacket disappear past the turnstiles as the ponies filtered in slowly. It was better than nothing occupying her time until the next stop and her destination.

“Now what was that all about?” one whispered to the group. The voice was female, yet somehow sounded garbled and strange. It was common english without a doubt, but something still sounded off.

“No idea,” another replied. This one was much taller, male, red, stocky, and had several bags lashed to his hindquarters. With Gunny gone, she turned her full attention to the ponies and her now noisy compartment.

The next speaker was also male, this one with a coat a light shade of blue and a shock of black hair for a mane. He fluttered his wings and said, “They’ve been looking at us like that since we came to this city. Although none so... condescending.”

“But did you see him? He was huge!” said a unicorn with such enthusiasm she made Sophia giggle. Gunny was big to her. As the biggest pony among them, the red one, only came up to her chest, Gunny must have looked positively enormous to them.

Voices carried in such cramped quarters. Small enough as she was to avoid notice, she could not hide after laughing. The herd jumped in shock and turned on her. Strangely, opposite of what she expected, the males were toward the center of the cluster and not the females.

There were about a dozen of them in total, all of them ranging from waist-high to chest-high. What was seriously offputting was just how large their eyes were. They dominated a large portion of their cranium and it made her feel like she was looking at an exceedingly creepy doll. The heads, each ending in a shorter snout than she expected, were much larger than the holovids made them appear. 

‘Alright, Soph, first contact with one of them. Yeah, they look weird. Just pick your poison carefully.’

“Take a pic, you tossers; it will last longer than gaping like fish.”

‘Smooth.’

“Name’s Sophia.”

Another pony stepped out from behind the red one. She hadn’t seen the mare due to his tremendous bulk. As she stepped out, the red one inched closer protectively.

‘Odd... the females protect the males, yet this one is different...’

“Howdy. Name’s Applejack,” the mare declared with a cockney accent. Applejack wore saddlebags of her own and a Stetson atop her head that covered a head full of rich blond hair streaked with a few early strands of silver. “Sorry fer starin’; ya jus’ kinda snuck up on us.” She was friendly enough, despite the kneejerk refuse that spouted from Sophia’s often foul mouth.

“Kinda hard to sneak when sitting down, AJ.” Sophia drew her legs to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. “Points for being small, however. I can sneak where I want. Even big boy there is bigger than me.”

She nodded to the red one, who looked down and knickered but said nothing. Calloused skin covered the entirety of his neck and his legs bulged with thick ropes of hard muscle. Sophia might have been taller, but there was no question the stallion outweighed her.

“Oh, this fella here’s Big Macintosh. Say hi, Big Mac.” Applejack prodded the stallion to answer with a nudge of her elbow. The contortion made Sophia wince a little in sympathy; Applejack was physically fine, but the motion looked like it hurt. They certainly didn’t have Earth horse skeletal structure.

‘Pony freakshow anatomy! Step right up everyone and for twenty nuyen you too can be amazed!’

“Evening, ma’am...” Low and caramel smooth, Big Macintosh’s voice contrasted heavily with his burly appearance and wide barrel. She had expected something more like Gunny’s rasp rather than a soft and well-spoken voice. “Just call me Big Mac.”

“You’ll have to excuse the big guy that got off. He was sulking all throughout the ride here. Don’t know what gremlin was messin’ with him. Don’t blame him; next stop is the Renton district and there’s not a lot of friendly customers there.” The metro jerked slightly and they were moving again. The ponies eyed the lights as they passed the greasy windows one by one. There were indeed twelve ponies in total, the only males being the light blue one, Big Mac, and a unicorn nestled with a group of its horned kin to her far right. Each picked a seat and hopped up on the vinyl before sitting down. It didn’t look like they found sitting on seats designed for humans all that comfortable, but it must have been better than standing or sitting on the floor. Black grime encrusted several splotches of grooved plasteel. Being around Gunny long enough gave her adequate knowledge to spot a few bullet holes apart from regular automotive decay.

“What’s up with this Renton place?” Applejack had hopped up on Gunny’s empty seat. Feeling the warmth of its earlier occupant, she stretched out to cover two seats, as did every other pony aboard the metro. Freakish anatomy aside, sitting down like a human couldn’t apply to them. “Bad neighborhood?”

“Ahhhhh... There’s just no real place of interest.” Sophia waved her hand nonchalantly. Hopefully they bought it. “We’re still in Tacoma district, and that’s mostly just ports and industry. I just got off work there. The best place to go is Downtown. That’s where all the good shit is.”

“Isn’t the Renton district the next stop?” Big Mac removed a map from Applejack’s saddlebags and was perusing through locations. The blue pony had sat himself down on the seats adjacent to her own and was content with just looking around and taking in the scenery.

“Yup. I live there. Not sure why you’re going. Are you going to be alright?” That last part was directed towards a unicorn that placed herself on the corner farthest from Sophia. Her perfectly groomed snow-white coat and azure mane along with her black cloak and a gilded brooch bespoke affluence. She was currently leaning against the safety glass with her nose pressed against the window. Her eyes were glazed over, silently watching the tunnel lights stream by in luminescent streams.

“She’s part of the royal court. Scribe or some such,” Applejack replied instead of the scribe. The scribe ignored her, pulled out a sketchbook from her saddlebags, and began doodling privately. “Say hi, Rose.”

Rose said nothing. Applejack sighed, dejected. “Sorry ‘bout her. She don’t talk much.”

“She’d fit right in Seattle real well then.” As subtly as she could, Sophia slipped off her shoes and dangled them in her hand. “It’s in our nature to give each other privacy.”

Applejack cocked her head to the side and adjusted her hat, pondering the words. Big Mac only looked around the metro before turning his eyes back to the technician's. As their eyes met, Sophia gave him a wolfish grin. The fur around his cheeks noticeably flushed lightly and he looked away. ‘Got us a shy one, eh?’

“That don’t seem very neighborly of y’all,” Applejack commented. Seeing that her words could be misconstrued, she held up her forelegs defensively. “Not to say ya haven’t been friendly, but it’s just...” She trailed off, struggling for words.

“Not what your mates give you?”

Applejack nodded. “Yeah.”

“Just our own way of being polite. Let everyone mind their own business, and if they want help, they’ll ask for it.”

Thump!

As quick and naturally as she could manage it, Sophia stomped her feet and rose to her full, fairly unimpressive, height. No longer cushioned by her shoes, the stomp resounded through the small compartment like a gunshot and twelve sets of ears stood at attention. Sophia stood on her tiptoes and stretched as far as she could. Only one or two cracks cascaded up and down her legs and spine this time, but it was enough to do what she wanted. She jerked her head to the left and then right, issuing a few more pops, all the while seeing how the ponies reacted to the sudden sound. She stretched her right arm and earned another pop. Out of habit, she did the same to her left, but no cracks or pops came.

“What? I’ve been sitting for too long.”

She plopped back down, satisfied with her scan of the room. The pale blue pegasus to her left jumped and stood at attention and was only now settling down. What interested her was Rose and Big Mac. Rose’s horn was shimmering with a pale pink light and looking around wildly before she realized no danger had come to their small compartment. Big Mac had stood on his seat and moved to cover Applejack’s side with his own body. His eyes were wide until he discovered the disturbance was nothing more than a sudden desire to stretch.

‘Bodyguard... So that explains it...’

The remaining eight ponies, all unicorns, had resumed their quiet huddle and low chatter. One pony in particular had turned her eyes on Sophia. Sophia’s eyes lingered on the ivory mare for a little longer than she wished, and the mare asked in a very posh and soothing accent, “Can I help you?”

“Unless you can get this lump of metal,” the woman said, banging her fist on the window, “moving faster, not in the slightest.” The mare’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she did not add to the conversation.

“So Applejack. Why exactly are you here in Seattle? Not exactly the best place for a vacation.” Sophia stretched out her legs and felt a crack in each ankle. That question seemed to get a noble-looking unicorn mare’s attention in the entourage of unicorns. The pegasus was sniffing the air, one of the many strange scents catching his attention. Sophia slipped her shoes back on and waited for a response.

“We’re just here to look around,” the pegasus answered for her. He shuffled awkwardly in his seat and a covert feather fell from his wings. On a whim, Sophia plucked the feather and stuck it behind her ear.

The pegasus did not react as she expected. She had expected casual indifference or something akin to possessiveness over the feather, not stammering and a blush to turn his cheeks a light shade of violet behind his fur. Applejack started chuckling like mad, and even Big Mac cracked a smile. Out of the corner of her eye, the noble held a dainty hoof to her mouth to hide her curving lips.

“Soarin’s right,” Applejack said between giggles. “We’re here jus’ to check out the place and yer city’s just the first ‘n last stop on our trip.”

“Alright, but why the hell are you all laughing?” she asked the crowd. Even the unicorns around the noble were sniggering. 

“It’s a pegasus thing,” Rose answered from behind her sketchbook. Sophia hadn’t seen it until now, but the scribe wasn’t holding the quill in her mouth of hooves. It was dancing around the parchment—actual parchment!— while covered in the same glow of her horn. “It’s a common dating practice among pegasi to give significant others a feather. You pretty much told him you’re looking for a mate.”

Sophia blinked. ‘Well... didn’t see that one coming.’

“I’m... not looking for somepony,” Soarin muttered to the wall.

Seeing a chance to poke fun at her new companions, Sophia leaned over Soarin and slipped a hand across his wing. If giving a feather was a private or intimate act, she imagined what caressing them might do to him. “That’s too bad,” she whispered into his ear.

Soarin’s wings twitched and flared open. Hitting the wall of the metro, he accidentally propelled himself off his seat, sprawling himself onto the floor. The car collectively burst into laughter once more. At last, Sophia was filled with hearty mirth. Only then did she realize how long she had gone without laughing, truly laughing. The occasional gallows humor with Gunny or Atherton aside, it was such a rare opportunity to have some time to enjoy such a simple thing. All of those worries and fears, both the tall and the small, had been eating at her mind. The demons clawing at her soul, however pertinent, no longer mattered for those few brief seconds.

“Ohhh, I needed that,” she said between stuttering gaps. Wiping a tear from her eye, she poked fun at the other stallion in the room. “What about you, Big Mac? Want to come to my place and see my girls?”

“I didn’t know you had kids,” Big Mac said as he wrestled control over his own chuckling. His laughter was much more subdued than Applejack’s.

“Uhhhh... I don’t.” Applejack’s and Big Mac’s eyes looked what Sophia guessed was confused. Certain expressions were difficult to pinpoint, despite the similarities to human facial structures. “Some things just don’t cross cultures, I guess.”

“Care to make any recommendations for anything that would, hmm?” the white unicorn asked. She was idly stroking her deep violet mane. Sophia could detect the lingering scent of soaps and shampoos emanating from her corner of the metro car. Soarin, Applejack, and Big Mac had a ruggishness about them that indicated hard labor, and that contrasted with the noble’s pristine coat.

“Posh losers exist everywhere.”

“Oh, let’s see,” Sophia hummed to herself. A few ponies perked up at getting the input of a Seattle resident. “There are the sports teams for starters. Football, basketball, and baseball go over well. Was never interested in Urban Brawl, but there’s that.”

“Never heard of that one.”

“I’d skip that for now. It’s never on anyone’s priorities. Besides: baseball. World’s greatest pasttime.”

Sophia saw the reflection of the holovid in the window. Craning her neck over her shoulder, she caught the last bits of the headline before it switched.


RUMORS CONFIRMED CONCERNING UPCOMING BUYOUT OF SOFTWARE AND NANOTECH COMPANY EDEN ENTERPRISES BY AAA MEGACORP YAMATETSU



AN EASTERN DRAGON HAS BEEN SPOTTED OVER BUG CITY. CURRENT U.C.A.S. OFFICIALS ARE SCRAMBLING TO ASCERTAIN THE DRAGON’S IDENTITY.


Buyout...

“Aw, bollocks...” Sophia moaned. “I don’t want to get fired. Please, no downsizing.”

“I take it you work at that there Eden place?” Applejack asked. Sophia could only nod into her hands.

‘Could crash at Gunny’s for a bit if it comes down to that. Atherton might give me a room if I pull my weight... And go on a few jobs...’ Her last thought filled her with dread. She was not physically capable enough for an Atherton “job”.

“Sorry to hear that,” Big Mac said quietly. “Is it that bad? Can you get another job?”

Sophia sighed wearily. The red tape that came with any buyout would usually take a year or so to cut. The immediate future wouldn’t change, but the long-term possibilities were in question. Working as a hired tech for Atherton was, unfortunately, looking more and more appealing. At least it provided stable work.

“I’ll be fine,” she said slowly, a finger tugging at the strings on her jacket. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

‘I’ve been shot at before. Strange enough, the possibility losing my job causes more grief...’

As simple a sensation as it was, Sophia was thankful for the mask of relaxing smells coming off the ponies, especially the noble mare. She had long gotten used to the dirt, grime, and smell of old oil that often permeated the metro. The streets of Seattle were often dirty and saturated with various forms of refuse and decay, and the calming scent, however strange as it may have been, was pleasant. As Gunny had stated earlier, something so simple can alleviate the gnawing discomfort and worry that breeds in the back of the skull.

Speaking of... she had yet to give her name. Sophia mechanically turned to the right. Some of the ponies were watching her, or the train. A pair were leaning their heads on each other’s withers in an attempt to nap before they got off. The noble was watching her.

“I haven’t caught your name yet...” Sophia asked slowly. It was her eyes. Sophia swore she could get lost in their unfathomable blue depths. It was the same hawkish watchfulness Gunny wore when she and that hulking slab of meat first met.

‘Clever girl...’ 

“Apologies for not introducing myself Miss Sophia. The name is Rarity.”

Sophia turned on Applejack, who had briefly turned her attention on a still mildly flustered Soarin.

‘You tricky bitch...’

Rarity had only asked a question of her in order to direct the conversation. Throughout her and Applejack’s lengthy conversation, she had been watching the entire time, letting Applejack ask the questions while the mare silently judged Sophia and her answers.

‘You bloody, clever, brilliant sod. You set up Applejack as the face, while you’ve been watching the whole time. Are you and AJ even here for the same reason? Does she even know the real reason why you are here? Tourists? Phaw.’

Focusing on Rarity once again, she saw the mare return the gaze coolly. Ponies were cute and disarming, and when they knew that, that made them all the more dangerous. Recognition or acknowledgement must have graced her own face, for Rarity’s lips curved slightly.

‘Why are you really here?’

The sentiment was echoed soon after, for Rarity asked her second question of the night. “I must admit my curiosity is strong. You seem quite unalarmed at seeing ponies, Miss Sophia.”

“Just Sophia.” Sophia curled up to make herself smaller before chastising herself. Looking small, adorable, and harmless only worked against physical threats. The same techniques didn’t work against a face mining for intel. “I admit... Talking ponies; would never have called that one. But honestly, I’m not too concerned. Got a wee bit ‘o trouble and a bottle with my name on it. I’m worried about that. I’m worried about my bed.”

“Oh?” Rarity pondered quietly.

The technician’s head konked against the window and she closed her eyes. “If I worried about every little thing, I’d explode. Compartmentalize, rationalize, and partition. Bury everything else under a thick layer of sarcasm. No offense... but I can’t muster the energy to care.”

“Sorry t’ hear that,” Applejack said pitifully.

Before Applejack or any other pony would pile on the angst, the human waved dismissively at her direction and interjected, “‘s nothin’.”

The group felt a sudden shudder. It was a sign imprinted on the thousands of individuals who were slaves to mass transit. The intermittent lights fastened into the tunnel walls were whizzing by the windows slower and slower while the metro’s AI lifelessly announced their destination.

“This is my stop.” Sophia wiggled her shoulders and the reassuring weight of her knapsack reasserted itself. After sitting on the train so long, it was easy to forget herself in the now. The hum of the magclamps and the constant flashes of light were hypnotic and dreamlike. It was easy to lose track of time, or be lured into sleep.

Sophia stood up again, stretching to her maximum, unimpressive height. “Fun yakkin’ with you lot, but I’m in for a bit more than a kip when I get home.”

“Well,” Rarity began as she too stood. Her whispering sycophants ceased their chatter and those resting twitched their ears and looked around blearily to see what was the fuss. “I cannot allow you to walk home all alone as you are.”

Sophia waved her hand dismissively. “You don’t even know where I live. Don’t—”

“Big Mac, would you please be so kind as to escort the lady home?”

‘What?’

Big Mac looked to Applejack, who shrugged and nodded. The stallion rose to his hooves and hopped to the floor with a light clip-clop. “Ready when you are ma’am.”

Now she couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity. “It’s fine. Anyway, we’re going to my neighborhood. If you got places to go, you don’t want to go to my neighborhood. Besides, you’d lose track of your little entourage here,” she said as she jerked her head aimlessly, indicating the rest of the crowd.

‘You don’t want to go to Renton, especially with how much they hate metahumans. If you get caught by the wrong person, who the hell knows what they’d do to you.’

“Oh, no need to worry for little old us,” Rarity said with a light laugh. The humor and playfulness that clung to her eyes was growing as if she were privy to some grand joke she refused to share. “You yourself said Renton wasn’t dangerous, and I know how to find Big Mac no matter where he is.”

‘...What?’

Big Mac, who was quietly conversing with Applejack, nodded again in her direction, which only made the chill across her spine all the more potent. Did those bands have anything to do with Rarity’s claim? What about Rose’s magic? Did the stuffy mare have some kind of magic woven on her burly red friend? Ever since the Awakening, magic had slowly begun permeating the Earth and magicians began popping up all over the globe. Magic was strange and unpredictable, and therefore something to be avoided.

And worst of all, Rarity called her bluff on Renton. She was really starting to hate the mare.

“I’m fine,” she stressed more than she needed. “Stay with your mates, big boy.”

The metro slowed to a crawl and more light leaked through the windows. The first Renton station was upon them.

“Nonsense.” Rarity’s own horn was soon alight with a dim cornflower glow. With a slight, ephemeral noise and a click of her saddlebags, a pair of tiny, black, thumb-sized clips floated through the air. One hovered to Sophia, while the other nestled itself firmly in Big Mac’s bags. “The hour is late, and as one of our first real friends in this city, I must insist. Consider this as a brief thank you for your help and information.”

Without even realizing it, she had brought her hands up and closed them around the levitating credstick. For some reason, she had expected it to be warm to the touch after it was touched by the magic.

“Thanks, but—”

“Tut, tut, I won’t take no for an answer. Plus, Mister Dunkelzahn had agreed the Equestrian bit was considerably stronger than your nuyen. It’s safe to say we have been imparted with more currency than we know what to do with. I do not regret lightening my load by a single... credstick, was it?”

The credstick fell to the floor with a click that echoed like thunder in her ears.

“...What!?”

Either Rarity was a liar to rival Valentine or Atherton, or she had more gall than even the most foolish of street trash. Rarity’s eyes were wide due to her sudden outburst, but devoid of whatever slight arrogance or malignance Sophia had spotted just minutes before. Those eyes were large. Too large. Some instinct told her they should be far more expressive than what she had anticipated, but it was wrong.

She had just casually namedropped one of the most powerful figures in the world, and Sophia couldn’t tell if she was lying. Dragons. They had came with the Awakening, beasts of legend sleeping for millennia. Rewinding her mental snapshots of holovids and new clippings, she did her best to recall any image of the ponies in front of her from any official news report. Her apathy had been her undoing; not a single memory of any of them came to light.

‘You’re fucking with me. You have to be fucking with me. Please, I don’t want to have to deal with a dragon. Never trust a dragon. Never cut a deal with a dragon. Are you fuckers out of your mind?!’

Trying her best to rein in her panic, she tried to rationalize what she had just heard. There was a fair chance Rarity was lying. As she was still a newcomer to Seattle, there would be little in terms of proof to support her claim. And little to deny it. But if she acted on the idea Rarity wasn’t chumming it up with a dragon, and she truly was... there would be no hole deep or dark enough to hide from the likes of him. Getting caught in any machinations Rarity or Dunkelzahn might have planned could end up in a death sentence.

Then another thought sprung to the forefront... it was still just a name. A terrifying name to be sure, but the Big D was by no means inviting her to dinner. She didn’t need to enter any Equestrian political games, or work on any projects tied to dragons or Equestrians. For lack of a better word, she was still “safe”.

‘I so hope I don’t eat those words.’

So, Rarity namedropped Dunkelzahn as a threat to ensure good behavior, or she truly didn’t know how dangerous it was to casually talk about dragons. Capricious, devious, and fully willing to carry grudges for centuries, they were as close to a god as one could get, and none more similar to devils.

“I... suppose showing you a few sights on the way wouldn’t hurt.” She gave Big Mac a smile to seal the deal. The fellowship was set.

“Um... Miss Sophia?” Soarin called out. He had gotten up in the fuss and had been trying unsuccessfully to capture her attention as he poked her left arm with a hard keratin hoof. His ears folded slightly as she refocused her attention on him. “We’re... we’re at the Bellevue Hilton hotel in the Bellevue district.” His eyes moved towards the feather still in her hair before abashedly meeting the floor. “Feel free to stop by.”

The metro had slowed to a halt. A smattering of people were waiting behind the safety line, eager to get on board. None but a few were damp with the earlier deluge. Good; the rains must have subsided. 

“I’ll bring him back in one piece.”

‘This might be tricky...’

Sophia quickly picked up and pocketed the credstick. No point in giving up a few free meals. The ponies returned to claim their seats before they could be taken by any newcomers. Big Mac had marched right next to the door and waited for her like a proper gentleman, if any still existed in Seattle. His blond mane of...mane... blew in the hiss of air as the pneumatic doors opened.

“After you, ma’am.”

“Chivalry hath not been vanquished,” Sophia said casually, trying to inject a little Elizabethan era into her British accent. Big Mac’s cheeks flushed slightly and smiled before he lifted a foreleg in what she could best describe as an “after you” expression.

Taking the initiative, and smiling internally at what her neighbors might think after she brought this particular male home, she stepped off the train and onto the platform. The other people jockeying for position parted around her as Big Mac cantered to her side. Her face was already downcast to hide her features beneath her bangs and jacket hood. She could see Big Mac out of the corner of her eye. Whatever attention he was getting, he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

Sophia swiped her wrist as she came to the turnstile. Her head turned down as it was, she saw it flash her name, job description, and cost of the trip being deducted from her personal account. Big Mac took a little longer getting through with his burlier chest and the necessary contortion to remove Rarity’s credstick to pay for a trip.

A fresh wave of ads greeted them as they climbed the stairs to the Renton streets. More gear girls offered soda, and she lost interest immediately. A cavalcade of scents greeted her as she rose to the surface. For a moment, she thought she could smell bits of fresh water from Lake Young before it was drowned out in brine, petrol, and sweet ‘ol Seattle tarmac. She lifted her head to better get a look at her surroundings. There were a few people in coats and jackets meant for the past rain. Those who were not busily going about their business took a moment to stare at the pony in her company. Big Mac was looking down the entrance to the metro, concern on his snout.

“Come on, we got a walk ahead of us,” Sophia prodded to both get home and get attention off him.

“Jus’ lead the way.”

Her footsteps noiselessly contacted the city streets amongst scattered pieces of newspaper and debris. It was the opposite of Bellevue, the upper class district of Seattle. The low to middle class Renton district reeked “average". Just ahead of them on the corner of East Smith Street and North Central Avenue was a noodle shop and bar called Mon Hing. She had visited there when she was graced with a few extra nuyen to blow. The shop adjacent to that was little more than a vast open lot that offered deals on used automobiles and bikes, items far outside her current price range.

“So,” Sophia piped up after a moment of silence. Big Mac seemed content to stew in it until they reached her apartment and offered nothing outside of the occasional wayward glance. “You’re a quiet one.”

Big Mac focused on his steps for a moment before carefully selecting his words. As soon as he decided on what to say, his smooth baritone washed over the faint sounds of partying, neighborhood chatter, whizzing automobiles, and gunfire. “Never been much of a talker, ma’am.”

“Oh, frag it, call me Sophia, not ma’am. Don’t give me that “lady” drek Rarity was dishing out.”

The burst of profanity had caused Big Mac to chuckle. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with mirth.

Sophia gave her own chuckle and placed a hand in each pocket. “Rarity. She always like that?”

“Eeyup.”

“Imagine it must be tough hanging around her. Know a few myself like her.” Switching gears, she removed her hands from her pockets and tossed her hood off. It took a moment to fiddle with each braid, but soon her pleats were nothing more than a solid sheen of gold, if in need of a brush after the day. Satisfied, she unzipped her jacket to the night. The cool air caressed her heated body. The winds carried from the ocean brought with them a slight chill that was pleasant after the shuffling subway trip.

“She’s alright,” he said quietly. “She don’t always do well, but she means well.”

‘Well-wishes don’t stop a bullet.’

“You have a nice smile,” he said slowly. Sophia blinked and turned on him. The stallion murmured something before turning away from her. Was he blushing? “You seemed so serious before. It’s good to see you smile.”

“It’s hard to get decent company around here. Lots o’ folks are twitchy because I don’t know that many people and I’m just your run-of-the-mill dataslave.”

“Dataslave?” Big Mac asked, concerned.

“Oh, it’s nothing bad,” Synergy dismissed with a wave of her hand.

‘I’ve thought of no less than five ways to dispose of my boss’ body.’

“Think of it this way,” Sophia began slowly, bringing her hands out to make her argument more expressive. “Renraku, Yamatetsu, Eden, Ares Macrotechnology, Saeder-Krupp; they all provide us with jobs to sustain a planet with a little over six billion and change to spare. Yeah, my job is looking a little shaky, but that’s one out of billions. I should count myself lucky I got one. I pay my bills, live off my own sweat, and survive. Everyone’s thankful to the corporations. There are a lot of people working in my field, and because there’s so many, they call us dataslaves. Nothin’ bad about it.”

Big Mac was silent as she gave her little speech on corporate life. It was a full minute before Big Mac responded. He stayed at her side as she made a right turn onto a street that was still well lit, but wedged in between two high rise skyscrapers. The shadows they cast loomed above them, blocking off the glow from the cloud cover’s silver aura. When he did finally respond, it wasn’t what she had expected to hear out of the stallion.

“Didn’t work in some big building growin’ up. Worked on a farm mah whole life.” That was his reply? Was he still talking about the same thing as she? Before she could ask, he added, “Made me learn some things.”

“Like what?”

“Ah know the smell of bullshit.”

Her footsteps stopped and for a moment all she could do was stare at the stallion. He managed a step or two himself before he halted and met her eyes. For a moment all either could do was stare at the other before Sophia abruptly started walking.

“Heh,” she chuckled. Big Mac followed suit with a husky laugh of his own. Soon they were both openly guffawing, gaining they eyes and ire of a few people walking in the opposite direction. “Didn’t peg you for a smartass.”

“Ah got two lil’ sisters tryin’ to pull the wool o’er mah eyes everyday. Gotta do better than that.”

“Applejack?” she asked. “That your sis?”

“Eeyup.”

“Huh; shoulda called that one,” she thought out loud.

“Hmm?” Big Mac asked, distracted. He was currently sniffing the air, apparently discovering a scent that had caught his attention.

“Thought she was your squeeze.” Big Mac’s blank look was priceless. “Your girlfriend. Your date.”

“Oh, no no no no no...” he shook his head vehemently. “She’s mah sista.”

Sophia grinned evilly. “I can see it now. She steps out of the shower, hair slick from water. You’re standing there waiting your turn. You eyes meet.”

“No. No!” Big Mac said fiercely as his eyes crinkled in annoyance at the ribbing.

“She sees this hunk of a stallion,” she gave his hindquarters a playful swat for emphasis. Big Mac jumped a little from the blow. “She leans in close to say something...”

Big Mac was making a point to not look at her now, although the slightest upturn of his lips across his furred snout spoiled the image of anger. She stared sniggering, her indulgence sated.

He followed her as she turned left, waiting as a pair of automobiles whizzed past the otherwise empty street. The buildings had shifted dramatically from the high rise corporate and business complexes, to dingy apartment buildings squeezed together so tight the alleyways could only allow one way traffic. Sophia tapped Big Mac’s withers and pointed to a congealed mass of steel and concrete that occupied an entire city block. Most windows were dark, but a few glowed yellow with late night activity. Fire escapes crisscrossed back and forth, a scant few individuals enjoying the late night air before turning in. A shirtless man sat lazily in a chair out on the fire escape next to a doberman five floors up. Sophia waved.

“That’s my dump of an apartment building. Looks like all the others.”

Big Mac was squinting at something in particular. “Who’s that? Friend of yours?”

Sophia shrugged. “Some guy that works for the landlord. Name’s Sergei. Or Yuri. Or something Russian; I know he’s Russian. He’s probably staring at my chest again.” Movement caught her attention. Sergei put down a pair of binoculars and waved back, right after Sophia saw his hand move away from something at his feet.

‘For fuck’s sake Sergei, I don’t want to explain to Rarity why big boy got shot.’

Sophia just wanted to get home. Renton was a bad district to be in when accompanied by something not human, and a talking pony surely applied. Even if Big Mac had been quiet through most of the walk, only replying to her gentle teasing or questions, he wasn’t human. The occasional passers by were giving her more and more looks, although most centered on Big Mac himself. The stallion did not mind the extra attention, or said nothing if he did.

‘Good at keeping his cool, or is completely oblivious.’ If it were her under such scrutiny, she would have made Gunny blush under the string of profanity directed at the onlookers. Strangely enough, although something she fully embraced, the streets were drained of most of the usual night walkers, but not completely. A large, burly individual with an extremely broad chest and tusken teeth muscled past the pair, forcing them to hug the building wall to allow his massive girth. The orcish individual took one look at Big Mac before snorting, and then opening his mouth.

“Nice night we’re having,” Sophia interrupted. “Let’s have fun enjoying it, shall we? Don’t want to wake the locals, a’right?” She nodded towards her dilapidated apartment complex. Sergei had roused and was looking at the trio through a rifle scope.

The brute grunted, took one more look at Sergei’s perch and Big Mac, and then continued on his way, mumbling under his breath.

“Looks like he coulda crushed pumpkins with arms like those,” Big Mac commented as he turned to watch him leave. The brute’s biceps were about as thick in diameter as Sophia’s whole body.

“Yeah, Renton ain’t fond of strangers pissing around,” Sophia said, adding mentally, ‘Especially metahumans.’

Putting the orc behind them, Sophia skipped forward and turned around, walking backwards as Big Mac followed her to her apartment. His hooves clanked quietly as his horseshoes clopped across the pavement. “So this lady.” Big Mac’s smile returned. “You cut that shit out right now; I’m a lady until I say I’m not, y’here?”

“Certainly,” Big Mac muttered unconvincingly.

Sophia growled, only causing him to chuckle merrily. “Now, this lady’s been wondering something as of late. I get your sister. I get Rose and Soarin. I even get Rarity. What I don’t get is you. Why escort a lady home, especially alone and when she’s someone you don’t even know?”

He didn’t even hesitate before answering her question. He snorted quietly and flicked his mane out of his eye so he could meet hers. “Gran raised me right.”

Sophia kept walking backwards, not breaking eye contact. A few people weaved around the pair, curiously wondering what the technician was doing before seeing who she was talking to. Besides getting a few more odd looks, few had the gall to interrupt as she stepped up to the double doors to her apartment building.

“So you’re tellin’ me that ol’ granny raised her boy right and you’re jumping through these hoops because you’re a sir and a... and a... gentlecolt?” She had stopped walking and blocked his path, the unspoken demand for an answer cutting through the urban melancholy.

The stallion seemed a little perturbed she even asked such a thing. Standing there with her hands on her hips, she was hardly an imposing figure especially at her size. “Well, eeyup,” he intoned slowly. “Ah don’t know you all that well, but you’re a’right. You’ve got a good heart. Even if I didn’t know you at all, ah was always raised t’ treat others with respect. You’ve been nice. You deserve a little respect.”

Sophia felt a pang in her heart. “Sounds like a whole lot of self righteous chin wagging to me.” Slowly, she leaned down towards the stallion.

Big Mac shook his head and lifted his chin to her resolutely. While not even close to being as stout as the orc, he was just as incorrigible. “I think you’re a good person, no matter what you’ve said so far. Ain’t nothin’ gonna make me change mah mi–MMPH!”

She had snaked her hands around his neck and gripped his mane in her hands. The hairs were coarse between her gloved fingers, and she took a moment of indulgence before pulling his head to hers.

It took a half second to readjust her head to compensate for his more defined snout, but with a slight tilt she hit the money and their lips met. He tasted like mint and his lips were rough, but warm to the touch. Something in her told her she shouldn’t do such a thing, kissing an animal. Something even more primal, hardwired directly into her self preservation instincts, told her not to kiss someone like Big Mac out in public where word might spread. She didn’t care. Big Mac, in a moment of absolute sincerity and lucidity, gave her something precious: an honest appreciation for her personality and well being.

Big Mac had frozen in place out of shock. He didn’t pull away... but he wasn’t singing praise or showing any signs of enthusiasm either. She felt the distinct urge to slip her tongue and ask for entry, but decided against it; she settled for cradling his head in her arms as she pressed a little harder into the kiss. Thick cords of muscle arched across his neck, a testament to the labor and work ethic he touted in such high regard. He was strong, and his musky, earthy scent sent a cocktail of endorphins rushing through her, begging her to take the kiss further.

He wasn’t human. He wasn’t even humanoid. This wasn’t right.

But he still smelled so good...

Regretfully, she pulled away before she would do something beyond an appreciative kiss. A string of spittle connected their lips before it sagged and broke. Big Mac was still staring at her, brain refusing to comprehend what had just occurred. His face was red, far more so than his lush crimson fur would account. Somewhere above, Sergei wolfwistled.

“You’re sweet.”

That snapped Big Mac out of his trance and he took a half step back, shyly looking to his hooves. He fidgeted slowly before Sophia put a hand under his chin and lifted his gaze to meet hers. He tensed, probably expecting another kiss, but only met her warm smile. “Seattle needs more sweet.”

She backed off slowly, silently saying she wouldn’t take it any farther than she had. 

‘I need a shower. A cold shower.’ An all too familiar tingle had started in her loins.

“Ahhh...” Big Mac tried to form words. He scratched the back of his head with a hoof, something that still looked obscenely abnormal and painful. Sophia found herself looking away as well, for once not capable of even the most basic of snarky responses. The awkward silence stretched longer and longer, neither side sure how to break it.

“Well...” It was her turn to fidget in place. “Thank you for walking me back to my place.” She took a step back and swiped her wrist across an ID scanner. The red eye next to the small silver panel blipped confirmation and turned from red to green. The glass doors hissed noisily open behind her, blowing out a warm draft of air.

“Yeah...” Big Mac met her eyes at last, but struggled to hold her gaze. “It was a pleasure, Sophia.”

“Likewise,” she responded. “Bye, Mac.”

Sophia backed into the doorway. The doors—spinel ceramics, if her eye for details hadn’t failed her—hissed once more, separating her escort from the apartment confines.  For a brief moment, Big Mac lifted a hoof as if to call out to her, but dropped the offending limb uselessly to the ground. Muscle memory had overtaken her, and her pace took her to the elevator shaft at the end of the tiny lobby. The front desk was devoid of the usual personnel, only leaving behind a scent that smelled strangely of fennel.

As the doors opened, she looked back once more. Big Mac was pacing back and forth slightly. Upon his troubled brow was a look of quiet contemplation mixed with a dash of regret and concern. Why hadn’t he left?

She was at the door before she even knew it. “Oh get in here; you’re like a lost puppy wandering around like that.” Big Mac had jumped in surprise as she opened the door for him. Recovering, that warm smile returned. “The lady and the gentlecolt; gotta return the favor.”

“They’d sing songs about us, ah’m sure,” he added. 

Sophia beckoned him forth with a wave.  “C’mon. I owe ya a quick nip of my private stock.” She caught him pawing at the ground slightly before acquiescing to her offer. This time she couldn’t stop the chuckle escaping her lips. The stallion reminded her of the fresh meat she experienced on the occasional dalliance. Not to say he was a virgin in any sense of the term, and that immediate thought made her mind conjure several strange images, but the situation itself was wholly new ground for both of them, she was sure. That quiet from before had turned into a nervous excitement.

“Got anythang good?” he asked as he followed her over to the elevator. He stopped and sniffed the air.

“I don’t know what that smell is either. As for my booze, I got one hell of a bender’s worth.” Perhaps it was the earlier kiss, or the slow but steadily increasing rapport, or maybe just a burst of hormones shot right into her spine; the excitement was still getting to her.

Sophia cracked her fist against the seventh floor button and the doors closed. Posters advertising a variety of locales and events plastered the inside stainless steel. An old poster advertising concert tickets to a Brazilian pop idol was stuck on the opposite wall of the doors. She took note that the supposed concert was advertised to start last year.

There was a slight tension in the air as the elevator hummed. Big Mac’s eyes were wide, watching his surroundings with care. Rustic indeed; this was probably his first time in an elevator. That was not the issue for Sophia. What eagerness that leaked through the stallion’s careful mask had infected her as well. That habit of rubbing her left arm was back.

Distracted as he was, she took a moment to observe her companion with a finer eye for detail. His fetlocks were unshorn, although carried the sign of being cut recently, no doubt in order to make a cleaner impression on humanity. However ponies got to Earth, at least they did their research or asked the proper person. An image of Rarity holding a tea party next to a full-sized dragon made her smile, before making her feel slightly terrified at the thought that there was a fair chance that could have happened.

His saddlebags were wrapped tight around his powerful body. Hard, well-developed muscles stretched across his back and wide barrel. His shaggy blond mane also showed the signs of recent care, but was marred with sweat and flecks of grime gained from some bustling city. His crimson fur was sporadically dotted with damp patches of sweat.

What caught her attention most was that familiar smell. It wasn’t nearly as strong in the open metro compartment or the city streets, but in the cramped quarters of a tiny elevator, it was impossible to not take in a heady mixture of sweat and earth, along with something herbal that might be homemade soap.

Unfortunately, her visual grope, no matter how appreciative, lingered longer than what was usually considered polite or discreet; she was caught by Big Mac as he in turn examined the posters, catching her staring in the process. She looked away quickly, her hands clasping together near the small of her back.

“So... staying in Seattle long?” she asked to kill the awkwardness.

She looked on, concerned, as for the first time this evening, Big Mac’s face fell. He recovered, straightening his stance, but the image was still burned there in her head. “No, ma’am. We head out tomorrow.”

‘Well, shit.’ It made her wonder why Soarin had bothered inviting her to their hotel room if they checked out tomorrow morning. She felt the urge to grasp the bridge of her nose in embarrassment; she had just invited Big Mac up to her room based on Soarin’s offer and Big Mac’s rising interest in her. And now he’d likely have to leave before the hangover even started.

“Place is mighty cramped,” he commented. He must have realized he touched a nerve with his last comment.

Sophia waved it off before he even had a chance to start. “It’s nothin’. I really don’t need much more than a bug-out bag to be comfortable. Suppose ponies gotta have their space?”

He nodded sagely. “Eeyup. Little ones especially. Being cooped up makes them and most ponies get cabin fever. ‘s in our blood to run.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” she said dismissively, waving her hand. “I’ve got enough space, especially because I don’t got much crap to begin with. I’ve learned to live light. Plus, maneuvering around in small spaces can be pretty handy at times. I’m pretty flexible when I need to be.”

The look of dawning comprehension on his face was utterly priceless. “Ha ha ha ha ha! Oh god, teasing you never gets old.” Big Mac flushed a deeper crimson, if that was possible.

Sophia’s eyes returned to the digital floor counter above the door. Is was blinking rapidly, a chronic sign of something faulty that probably wasn’t going to get fixed for a good year after it stopped working altogether. The number hung at five and well on its way to six.

“Do me a favor, big boy, can you back up behind me?” She motioned for him to hug the wall behind her, out of line of sight of the door. It was late, and she didn’t expect many people to be haunting the apartment corridors at this time, but those instincts were back. Renton wasn’t the worst place for metahumans to be, but it wasn’t the best either. She didn’t want to press her already generous luck.

Big Mac dutifully complied after a brief look. She knew that look. She had it on herself many times, as had Gunny when she or he was about to start trouble. The door opened with a hiss. There was indeed someone in the hallway, a man in his late forties holding a cardboard box under one arm. He turned his head, looking at her with bleary watery-blue eyes before promptly ignoring her and entering his room.

“Coast is clear, big boy. Time to bite the bullet.” She stepped into the hallway before jumping with an “Eep!” She turned on Big Mac, who was smirking slightly.

“Sorry, thought you said bite somethang else,” he said before falling in place behind her.

She could only shake her head, the love bite to her rear still burning pleasantly. “Oh, you are a bad boy.”

The two of them sniggered playfully as she led them to door with the numbers 727 printed on the door. Fetching a keycard from her bag, she swiped it across the scanner to the left of the door and hurried Big Mac in after one last scan of the hallway.

The size of her living quarters wasn’t something she had exaggerated to any degree. A small, shelved hallway opened up to a living room already filled with magazines and bits of clothing, leading to a mildly embarrassing moment where she had to clear her previous night’s clothes off the sofa. That in and of itself wasn’t so bad, except her bra and panties topped the pile. Scattered bits of electronics and other mechanical devices shoved in random corners, some of which Big Mac eyed with intrigue, but likely didn’t know anything about. In fact, random junk, from a small stack of hard drives nestled next to the couch to a half-formed hodgepodge of circuitry in the shape of a human arm hanging in a pile below the window largely outweighed how much furniture she owned.

It was fairly spartan, with little more than an oversized vinyl chair and loveseat, a coffee table piled with magazines and a disassembled cyberdeck, and moderately-sized holovid hanging on the side wall. The far wall was a large window covered by blinds that let in the dim glow of the Seattle cityscape. Tucked in the far right was a narrow hallway which led to her kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom.

“It’s not much, but it’s home. Now sit down, ya perv.” She rubbed the spot where he had bit her. It didn’t hurt, but it had certainly caught her by surprise. Well, if they were playing that game, she made extra sure to sashay her hips back and forth a little more as she entered the kitchen. There wasn’t much in terms of counter space that hadn’t already been taken over by crap, but finding an empty glass jar, she plucked Soarin’s feather from her ear and deposited it in its confines.

She opened the dishwasher and pulled out three non empty bottles and a pair of glasses. Big Mac, sitting on the pleather loveseat, watched her with blatant incredulity. “Ah live in the country and’ve been called backwards plenty ‘o times. ‘s first time ah’ve seen some shine stored in the dishwasher.”

“Pfft,” she hissed. “Bitch please, you don’t even wear clothes other than them saddlebags.” She set down the glasses and bottles on the table as Big Mac removed his saddlebags and set them gently on the adjacent cushion. “Spiced rum, gin, or what’s left of the whiskey?” she asked, shaking the smallest bottle.

Big Mac nodded towards the rum and she began pouring half a glass, but not before he decided to reinforce her growing suspicion he was secretly a smartass. “Am ah gonna find a still in the toilet?”

She filled her own glass. “You’ll find my foot up your ass if you keep this up.” She downed her share in a moment’s notice before plopping herself in the chair across from the couch. It was her preferred spot, and the one facing the currently blank screen of the TV on the wall. Reaching to the right of her chair, she felt the comforting cold metal of her own personal cyberdeck. “I swear you acted like a naive farmboy just to fuck with me.”

“No ma’am,” he said before being interrupted by her.

“Just Sophia. Done with being a lady for now.” She poured herself another dash of alcohol. Liquid courage, she always called it. Gunny was right about one thing: she’d drink him under the table any day.

“Oh?” Big Mac lifted his own glass with his hooves. It was an odd motion, not seeing him grip it with fingers, yet he pulled it off by wedging it in between his forehooves. After giving it a sniff to compare the contents against his palate, he downed it like a champ. “And here ah was thinkin’ you’d want me to serenade you and paint your nails into the night.”

She smiled, slipped off her shoes, pulled off the socks, and brandished a petite leg. “Go at it, big boy.” Big Mac looked at his hooves thoughtfully as if seriously considering it. Looking up to her, honest wondering in his eyes, she gave a very unladylike snort and smashed her fist into the radio perched precariously on the coffee table. It fell with a dull thunk onto the worn carpet, bleating uselessly about U.C.A.S. reelections.

Big Mac picked up the gin bottle in his hooves. For a moment Sophia thought even the light consumption of liquor was getting to him, but due to their shared flushed cheeks, and his crimson fur, it was difficult to tell. She immediately shot that down; no self-respecting drinker is finished after just one glass.

He blinked at her, worried that he offended her, as she swiped the bottle from his hooves. “The hell’s wrong with you? ‘s crime to drink a warm gin.” His smile returned. Smiles were becoming cheaper by the second today. 

As she got up once again, he asked, “So what do you do? Ya said you build things. What kind of things?”

She fished some ice cubes from the freezer, along with a lemon and a knife. Fresh out of limes as she was, it would have to do. “See that?” She thrust her thumb over her shoulder towards the far corner of the living room.

“Yeah,” came the reply. “What is it?”

She walked back and sunk into her chair, the knife’s handle in her teeth. “Fhat,” She spat out the knife and it clattered across the table’s surface. Picking it up, she began slicing. “is an Aztechnology GCR-23C crawler. I built that one myself out of scratch parts.” It looked like it was about to fall apart. Nevertheless, the treads and sturdy steel chassis, while looking like a breadbox on treads, was still a reasonably impressive sight to anyone unfamiliar with such technology. “I’ve modded the batteries enough so it can go a good thirty-five hours on a full charge. You can drive that bastard anywhere.”

To prove her point, she set down the knife and picked up her cyberdeck. After a few commands, the drone’s internal motor hummed to life. Big Mac set down his own glass, fascinated. “Let’s give her a spin.”

The drone lurched forward a few inches, the motor protesting with a few sputters. It circled the loveseat before obediently resting next to her chair. She gave the brick with treads an affectionate pat. “I build things for a living. Eden is contracted to test out designs to work out the kinks for mass production. It’s my job to make sure everything runs as it’s supposed to.”

With a few more taps and clicks, the drone returned to its corner and its fitless sleep. She returned her attention to the liquor stock and soon two glasses of chilled gin garnished to perfection were at their lips. “What about you, big boy? I know I heard something about farming. That all you do?”

Those eyes were still too large for her liking, but she was warming up to them. He didn’t say anything when her cobbled together drone was doing its mistress’ duty, but fascination and wonder was still in his eyes. Admittedly, a piece of her was concerned she’d scare him off. The lack of clothes, rustic accents, primitive jobs. Everything about him screamed archaic. If Earth’s own history was any indication, the unknown was something to be afraid of. It was one thing being surrounded by an unfamiliar landscape. It was another seeing the fruits of its labor.

“Eeyup,” he hummed. He took a small sip of the drink and blinked. As he took a moment to taste it, his ears perked and he downed another sip. It was amazing how much those ears were tied into his expressions. “It usually keeps me busy most of the growin’ season. Sweat of mah back is what kept me goin’ every year...”

It seemed so easy, just talking like that. How strange it was. How... exotic. The booze was flowing freely now, her five glasses to his three. Just two hours ago, she was still at work, slaving away with the monotony. Now she had kissed a male and dragged him up to her room. Ponies. As much as it made her uncomfortable to have invited Big Mac up to her room, knowing full well what she wanted to do to relax after work, that part of her telling her it was wrong was slowly shushed under each drop of courage. The stigma of bestiality was still there, however.

Well, being gay was illegal once...

Sophia brought herself back to the present. The conversation had morphed some time from farming to magic. She wasn’t plastered enough to lose memory just yet, but it was becoming increasingly harder to keep track of her train of thought. “We don’t have weather magic. I don’t know how many people on Earth have magic either. It doesn’t work like that. Not here, anyway. It’s probably a good thing; I know far too many people who’d start throwing lightning around like a motherfucker.”

Big Mac was grinning goofily. He was a clear drinker, having hammered down his first, but even he could tell the buzz was getting to him. “So how does waking up work?”

Sophia threw a lemon slice at him, which he responded by unearthing a loveseat cushion and throwing it in her face. “I swear I’d dive over this table if it meant I wouldn’t knock over a bottle of booze.” Big Mac snorted. “It’s called the Awakening. Here...”

She downed the last bits of her gin and poured it half full. The remaining ice cubes twinkled softly in the light emitted by the fluorescent bulbs humming above their head. “Think of this gin as the world.” Big Mac laughed again, which Sophia responded by throwing the cushion back at him. “Shut up, I have a point. Now, Earth magic comes in phases. Until just after the turn of the millennium, humans and Earth as a whole didn’t have a drop of magic. We had always attributed magic as something fantastical, as myth and legend. It never existed, but like I said, we didn’t know we had magic all along, but the time just wasn’t quite right.”

It was harder to think while cotton slowly stuffed itself in her head. “Like I said, magic comes and goes, and long ago, it was time for it to recede.” Picking up her glass, she dumped the contents into Big Mac’s empty glass. “In 2011, it was that time again.” She picked up the gin bottle and poured herself another share. “It wasn’t pleasant at first. No one really expected an onslaught of the impossible. Shamans and their spirits. Different planes.” Big Mac flinched. “Homunculus. Mana. Awakening orcish and elven bloodlines. So many new things. And sometimes...” From the bowl of ice, she plucked a single cube and held it over her glass. For a second, their eyes met. For once, he looked like he felt uncomfortable.

“And sometimes with such an onslaught, something else, maybe something big and scaly, comes through.” With a slight clink the cube dropped into the gin and cracked. Tossing her head back, she tucked back a nip and set her glass down.

Summarizing one of the most important moments in Earth’s history in just a few seconds wasn’t enough for the crimson stallion. He was staring at her as if seeing a human woman for the first time. 

“Are...” He set his glass down, thinking hard about what he stopped himself from saying. She could feel her cheeks blazing with warmth from alcohol and less reputable things. He was also a few shades brighter, something only detracted by the sudden seriousness of his tone. “Are you happy here?”

The kneejerk “Of course.” was almost past her lips before he interjected. “You seem... sad. Are you scared of this place?” He gestured with a foreleg towards the window and the massive urban sprawl beyond the blinds. “Of that?”

She got up. Big Mac blinked, and then started to look uneasy as she walked towards him. A small black remote lay where the removed cushion formerly lay. Picking it up, she dangled it in her hands. “I want to show you something.”

Pressing a button, the blinds hummed to life and began to raise like some great yawning beast. Seattle’s nightlife gleamed into existence, glittering through the shadows for miles, keeping the smog high above the city at bay. Cyclopean skyscrapers topped with lightning rods that shined like stars. The neighboring apartment complex was dappled with lights that twinkled as the occupants inside milled around. Seattle moved and breathed with the people flowing through its veins, her lifeblood infesting every darkened corner and edifice.

“That’s what I come home to every night. And by god it’s beautiful.” Big Mac was speechless, his mouth open slightly as he drank in the night. “There are cracks in the world. Slender, dark, and cold. They are the shadows of this world, and that’s where we run.”

She sat on the cushionless seat and looked out the window. Bringing an arm around, she gently embraced the pony. “It’s not that safe in this city. Gangs, danger, and gunfights can be around any ugly corner, but you find the best of people when presented with a bad situation. Even if they have no reason to help, you find those that do.”

Memories of Gunny came to mind. The pair weren’t related in the slightest, yet no matter where they went, he still hovered over her like an overprotective brother. Atherton, the guide and mentor. Valentine, wily and strong. “Friendship forged through fire instead of peace. We’re all a bunch of oddballs, freaks, and outcasts, and we wouldn’t have it any other way. There are parts of this city that have helped me when it had every reason to let me die in the gutter. I’ll never forget that debt. I’m not tough, but I’ll be there when they need me.”

Pressed so close together now, Big Mac’s scent was strong enough that it was all she could smell. She breathed it in, his exotic, earthy fragrance a rarity in the metropolis’ underbelly. “At times I am afraid, but I remember them. Their names, their faces. They helped me not because it was nice, but because it was right.”

Sophia flinched as she felt Big Mac’s hoof caress her face. As he pulled away, she could see rivulets of moisture across the surface. She quickly wiped her face with a gloved hand and it too came away moist. He again brought a hoof to her cheek, and this time she let him. For a moment they stared into each other’s eyes. One as fathomless as the ocean, the other as mighty as the earth.

“For them, I’ll always answer the call.”

Something tugged at her heart. The irrational little girl inside her had hoped Big Mac would sweep her off her feet and take her to a land safe from all harm and worry. Dreams. They were as simple as that. No more, no less. In a world of shadows, steel, and raw informations floating across the superhighways—that was where the little corporate drone belonged.

Big Mac still hadn't said a word, silently letting her deal with her momentary bubble of emotion at her own pace. Ever the proper gentleman. 

‘Gentlecolt.’

Slowly she leaned in closer. Although he trembled slightly beneath her grasp, he did not pull away. She inched closer. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, feel the warmth of his skin.

It was different this time. The kiss was not a brief nip of affection like before. The undercurrent of desire had swelled to new peaks as emotions ran high. It was brief, almost tender, just like their first kiss shared outside, but undercut with the barest need. Unconsciously, she leaned forward. Big Mac fell back onto the arm of the loveseat, his lips still glued to her own.

She broke contact, her chest heaving for air that she didn’t know she needed. Big Mac’s eyes were wide, but what she felt was reflected on his face. Her hand had drifted lower and now rested on his strong, taut chest. Thick, rippling muscle and fur as soft as velvet coursed underneath her fingers.

It was cute the way he blushed and turned his head to stare at the loveseat's back pillow. “Are...?” he said before catching her eye and looking away again. “Are y’all sure?” Sophia couldn’t help but nod, cupping his head with both hands and going in for another kiss. She inched further up until she was straddling his thighs. He was so much bigger than her, every powerful, sinewy muscle clenching under her, yet he let her be on top and dictate the pace. His lips were still soft and malleable, just like any other human she had been with in the past.

Tentatively, she probed his lips with her tongue, silently requesting entry. He shuddered beneath her with a need not unlike her own. Hot breath exited through his nostrils, and he parted his lips. His tongue greeted her own gingerly like a horse shakily separating itself from the herd. Together they danced, her tongue snaking along his own and quickly gaining dominance. His tongue was longer and thicker than her own and contorted like a snake. This was all new territory, but she had time to puzzle it out.

Slowly she ground her hips forward into his crotch. She was still fully clothed, and his saddlebags made it more difficult than it needed to be. Still it had the intended effect and Big Mac kicked his hind legs reflexively. After a few more gyrations, his own hips started to meet her own thrusts. She stroked behind his ears and neck. One particular point hit a sweet spot and he melted under her touch. He bucked again, this time something hard and hot as a furnace colliding with her hips.

They parted, panting and out of breath again. “My room,” she hissed. The loveseat, while in the past been used for this exact purpose, wasn’t equipped for a pony. The bed on the other hand was plenty big. Big Mac nodded, his blond mane ruffled from the workout she had given it along with being pressed under her own weight. Getting up, she saw just what might be greeting her in the very near future. In response to her light fondling, his marbled pink and black shaft inched out of his sheath. She could feel the wetness clinging to her underwear along with the rivulets of moisture running down her legs.

She rushed to the hallway as she got to her feet, beckoning her mate for the night to follow. Eagerly he scrambled off the loveseat and joined her. At the end of the cramped hallway was her bedroom. Due to her tendency to pass out exhausted after a long day at work or other vigorous activities, her fair-sized bed was one of the few places in her apartment that was immaculate. Big Mac’s eyes took a moment to scan the room before returning to her.

It wasn’t much of a room. Most of it was still piled with crap, as the closet vomiting objects all over the floor attested. Several posters hung on the wall, and one near the headboard displayed a stunningly attractive woman’s face under the letters AV. Neither of them was in any particular mood to admire the new scenery.

She crawled onto the box spring, shaking her hips as she did so. There wasn’t much there worth shaking, but it had the intended effect. Before she even reached the pillows, Big Mac had his snout pressed firmly between her thighs. Whatever she had to say came out as nothing more than a content sigh. Still clothed, he couldn’t get any penetration no matter how hard he could try, but still he nuzzled her sex behind her pants. 

Her knees were shaking with the sensations coursing up and down her spine. She had collapsed with her ass raised, supported entirely on his nuzzling muzzle. “Mmmm...” she moaned pitifully. She swore she could feel him smile.

It took a moment to fiddle with the button on her pants before she yanked them down to her knees. For a sad few moments, her stallion’s affections ceased. A thump indicated he had taken the moment to remove his saddlebags and horseshoes. With a flick, her garment was removed to some corner of the room to be forgotten until tomorrow’s impending hangover woke her up.

With a creak she felt him join her on the mattress. Her own undies were marred with a large damp spot, courtesy of her increasing arousal and his ministrations. “All ah could smell since we got here was you.” Her chest fluttered in embarrassment, despite already being half naked in front of him. She had forgotten about their sense of smell. Her nethers were flooded with a fresh wave of warmth in fluid at the thought of Big Mac basking in her scent the entire time, silently wishing to himself he could just bury himself in her mound and drink her dry.

Speaking of smell, she detected his own musk permeating her cramped bedroom. A slight sheen of sweat coated his body and mane. His shaft was now dangling several inches out of its sheath and growing by the minute. Alcohol had already tainted the decision-making process, something she brazenly decided was not important right now. Still, the couple was dangling at the point of no return. Last chance to turn back...

“Just for the night?”

Big Mac blinked cutely, the haze of lust making him stop pawing nervously at the sheets. She’d never been with a stallion, or any other animal for that matter. ‘Strange what one random day will do to you.’ She’d bet a fair few nuyen he hadn’t been with a woman either. They barely knew each other. He’d probably be out of the city before she woke up. It was just a one night stand, but he could have her if he was interested.

His eyes were roaming over her. She had forgotten to turn on the light, but enough of Seattle’s nightlife was leaking through the curtained window to bask the room in a light blue glow. In the moonlight and the soft city radiance, his response was, “Beautiful.”

Sophia felt a growl course up her throat. “Get over here,” she said huskily. They dove at each other fiercely, lips mashing together. Big Mac had finally displayed just how forceful his powerful body could be and quickly dominated the show of strength. Sophia ended up on her back with Big Mac looming over her. Whatever shyness or gentlemanly behavior he wished to display was quickly overridden by raw, animal lust as his tongue quickly explored every corner of her mouth. She let him take the lead, basking in his affections. Her gloved hands were intertwined behind his head in a vice as if daring him to leave her precious embrace. 

Her legs slid back and forth against his barrel. There was something strangely enticing about the sensation. His powerful muscles were forged to hard labor, honest farm work, and it gave her no end of satisfaction to imagine them being used for the basest task of all. Oh, what a glorious cocktail it was. The raw warmth rolling in waves off his skin like some great cistern, that earthy musk that clung to him as dearly as she did now, that spicy fragrance emitting from the throbbing erection dangling near her navel... Everything about him screamed animal and, even though she knew for certain he was not, all she wanted was for him to fuck her raw.

With a burst of strength, she rolled Big Mac over until she was on top. They had parted mid roll and she grinned like a shark, eyes alight with mirth and arousal. Big Mac caught on quick and using his forelegs’ ample flexibility, continued the momentum until he was back on top. She couldn’t help but let loose a laugh that was joined by his deep, throaty chuckle. God, even his voice was enough to make her melt. “Yes...” she moaned softly. She brought a hand down and ensnared his mottled shaft in a tight grip. Big Mac grunted and whinnied in certainly welcome surprise. The semi-viscous fluid leaking from the head stuck pleasantly between her fingers. Smearing a glove with his precum, she started jerking off his erection. Big Mac shuddered and moaned, his rear leg stomping again.

Her breath began to hitch in her throat. Another thing she had forgotten was that horses, although smaller than the average human in most respects, were certainly bigger in one.

“Oh, dear...”

Her stallion hummed quietly before seeing where her eyes were locked. Her brief handjob had risen him to full mast, a healthy twelve to thirteen inches. He already outweighed her, but that would tear her in half! Big Mac let her crawl out from underneath him in order to examine the object of her lust. There was no possible way he could hilt that in her. Not that she wouldn’t try.

“Ummm...” He looked around bashfully. 

‘Of all the times, now you’re giving me privacy?’ she thought. “Uh...” Well, this was awkward. “...Try lying down.” He dutifully did so. As he passed her on the squeaky bed, he flicked his tail, catching her in the side. She punched him in his haunches. It felt like iron under all that corded muscle.

He must have taken a leaf out of her book, as he sashayed his hips back and forth in front of her. Her eyes never left that huge member. She could see it bob in time with his heartbeat as a dollop of precum dripped from the tip. Just watching was enough to make her moan in delight, something that elicited a particular pleasing bob from his throbbing cock.

Big Mac decided on resting his back on the pillows in order to see her at work. Little Mac loomed down towards him as if begging him to suck himself off. Peeling off her right glove, Sophia reached forward and grasped his member again, this time with nothing separating her from the pleasing heat of his skin. It twitched as soon as she made contact. The head was flared outward obscenely, almost double the girth of the shaft. Brandishing his dick, she stuck her tongue out and started at the base of the shaft. She stared at him, an unspoken dare to break eye contact. He snorted softly. Ears twitched, hips bucked, legs kicked. Everything about him bespoke volumes: he was as ready as she was.

The touch of pre on her tongue sent a fresh wave of pleasure through them both. His hips bucked forward, giving her a face-full of his bountiful testicles. She pushed him down so she could finish, every caress of her tongue collecting more and precum. It tasted little better than salt water, but the reason on his face was enough to soak her panties through in an instant. He brought his hooves to the back of her head, guiding her upward. As she reached his head, she waited, circling the tip with her tongue. Big Mac grunted in need, pained that her mouth, the object of his own desire, was so close.

Her lips grazed the flared head and she pushed forward, taking the tip down her throat. Everything tasted like hot, warm flesh. Up and down she went, making extra sure to stroke his shaft after every bob of her head. Her other hand ventured lower and cradled both hefty orbs.

“Ugh,” he grunted. “Oh, do that again...” She chuckled, her voice sending vibrations all along his shaft. Stroke, fondle, up, stroke, fondle, down. He was kicking and snorting wildly now.

She pulled his head out with a particularly loud pop. “Not something mares do that often, eh chummer?” He shook his head and tried to pull her head back down around his cock. Another dollop started to collect on the tip. She pulled away instead and he gave a disappointed nicker of protest.

“Come off it,” she jeered. Her hands were already at her waistband, pulling her already soaked panties off her womanhood.

“Can’t help it; yer jus’ too goo—” Whatever he was going to say was cut off as she stuffed her panties into his muzzle.

“It’s my turn now.” She tasted Big Mac on her fingers before inserting two between her folds. Her palm brushed against her clit with each thrust and forcing her to give a satisfied grunt everytime her little soldier buzzed at the contact. She added a third finger; she was already well lubricated enough. Big Mac was staring at her with open lust, his tongue lolling out obscenely. His own forelegs were on his erection and jerking furiously at the obscene, wanton display. One hoof held her panties to his snout, inhaling, savoring, her scent. 

Propping herself up on one hand for leverage, she thrust her hips into the air and added a fourth finger. She was more than ready to jump him right there and get fucked within in an inch of her life. But there was something she wanted to try first. Big Mac had a really long tongue.

She jerked her undies away and forced her crotch into his face. His head banged against the headboard with a loud thunk but he was far from feeling pain. Both hooves wrapped around her hips and jerked her towards him almost painfully. He had clearly watched her tart-like display carefully and discovered without much prodding where her little love button was. One lick with his rough tongue and she melted in his grasp. She bucked her hips in place but was barely able to move in his vice-like grip. His tongue sought out each little corner of her cunt and collected every droplet of her arousal. Instead of voicing her approval at his dedication to the craft, all that came out of her mouth was a long, deep moan of satisfaction and a distended, “Fuuuuuck...”

Both hands were at her breasts. She loved the feeling of rolling her nipples between her fingers. With a firm twist, a high pitched squeak added to the sensations ravishing her spine and core. She was likely to drown him at the point, yet his tongue kept clicking back and forth dutifully.

“Oh god right there!” she screamed as he flicked her g-spot. He complied and focused hard on that one delicious, toe-curling spot. She was shamelessly rocking her hips into his muzzle now, each little bit of give rammed her clit against his nose. He wasn’t slowing down. If anything, he was speeding up as he lapped at her slick walls again and again. Her own orgasm was coming like a train and by god she wasn’t going to get in the way. After one last lick, she grasped her breasts and twisted.

Every single muscle in her body convulsed. She was saying something, but whether it was encouragement for him to continue or one long, continuous scream of delight, she couldn’t discern. She was blinded by the white light that burst forth as she came so violently she swore she had squirted. She had lost all sense of self and time as her arms and legs twitched with every jerk of her hips.

Sophia wasn’t sure how long it was until she regained her breath and ceased her shakes. A pleasing thrumming coursed along her vagina and back up her spine; Big Mac was chuckling.

“Wow...” she said dreamily. Her movements were slow and sluggish as she maneuvered off his face. He took in  gasp of air as she vacated her throne, having nearly suffocated the poor dear as she came. There were worse ways to go other than death by orgasm.

He looked at her with a smile, his muzzle and chin splattered with her own excitement. Straddling his chest, she could feel his own excitement throbbing with need against her back. “You were great,” she said. She felt compelled to say more, but the afterglow refused to release its pleasant hold. Sex and sweat permeated the air. The warmth in the room was almost stifling. She wasn’t ready to quit just yet, and was certainly not cruel enough to leave him hanging in such a state.

She leaned down to kiss him once more. She tasted herself across his muzzle and every corner of his mouth. Rather than the craven, carnal desire that had consumed her before, this kiss was slower, more passionate. She even tasted a little bit of his own excitement. Parting, she panted and bore her eyes into his own, memorizing every feature. That mischievous grin, flush face, everything about him. Big Mac leaned forward and nuzzled her chest. There wasn’t much there to motorboat, but she wrapped her arms around his head as he worked her over through her shirt.

“Ah want t’ see you,” he moaned. She was pantless, but not shirtless. And for good reason.

It was one of the rare times that night she hesitated. Her having stiffened at the words, he could tell in a moment the mood had shifted towards the less amorous. He stopped lavishing affection on her pert tits, a questioning look on his moist face.

“Is... is something wrong?” 

Sophia smiled weakly. Even with his raging cock mere inches away from her own wet, willing cunt, he still played the gentleman card. “No, no... jus’...” She trailed off and sighed. ‘Bite the bullet.’ It wasn’t as if he’d be the only one to know. The paranoid part of her that screamed self preservation so many other times before was silenced by another piece that had been growing stronger where her stallion was concerned. Not love, at least not any she was familiar with, but trust. The same trust she gave Gunny and her other friends in droves. Big Mac deserved to know.

She grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it up, taking the jacket clinging to her since the metro along with it. Their frantic pace had now slowed to a crawl. Even the velvety fur nipping at her labia wasn’t invoking nearly what it had before. Here it was. This was her secret.

Big Mac’s eyes widened and he gasped as he saw her au naturel in the starlight. He brought a hoof up and traced the numerous scars across her collarbone and chest. Running across her ribs was a patch of skin that was a light blue color where she knew her synthetic lung could be seen through the skin. The brutality that marred her body wasn’t what topped the revelation.

Smooth, white plastic plated ever inch of her left arm. The interlocking plates covered almost seamlessly the black and silver metals hiding under the surface. Where the elbow would have been was a circular silver hunk of steel that noiselessly rotated back and forth as her arm moved. Printed right below the shoulder in sharp blue letters was a word they were both familiar with: YAMATETSU.

“I’m the sum of my parts.”

She wasn’t sure what compelled her to say such a thing, but as she did, Big Mac picked at the glove still donning her left hand. As it came off he was greeted by a delicate silver hand. Each digit was a little silver nub plated over black machinery and ugly plastic.

The way he cradled her hand was as if he was holding a hatchling over a den of ravenous snakes. His hard hooves slid across every groove in the metal. For a moment she wondered if he could feel her arm at all until she saw the fleshy center of his hoof.

“Can...” It wasn’t shyness that tainted his tenor. Now he seemed afraid. Afraid of how she would react. “Can you—”

“I can’t feel anything.” She rubbed the Yamatetsu logo. Whether it was to try and remove it from existence or the perpetual feeling of cold, not even she knew. “At times it feels as it my arm’s still there, but no.”

He traced a hoof up her arm. Despite not being able to feel his gentle touch, she shivered regardless. He stopped where flesh met metal, tracing the scars that looked like they fed right into the cyberarm. 

“That ain’t no accident.” She smiled darkly. Some part of her expected Big Mac to not recognize the damage, but he’d proven remarkably sharp already. Even the simplest street trash would recognize knife wounds.

“No,” she whispered. “And he’s not going to be able to do it again. Ever again.” The tone of her voice must of sent the message across that this wasn’t a topic she was ready to talk about in full.

He didn’t like it and she knew it. His irises darted back and forth, an internal battle of conscience, likely between fighting for her honor and acquiescing to her wishes. After a few brief moments, he nodded. The tension within her chest loosened enough to get her breathing back under wraps.

He opened his forelegs to invite her back into his grasp, an offering she freely accepted. He flinched slightly as her cyberarm touched his cheek as they kissed once more. Part of the reason why she wore gloves so often was her arm chilled in cooler weather. He dabbled kisses on her lips and jaw line, slowly inching his way lower. The fire that had cooled during her reveal rekindled with fresh fuel. His own erection had softened against her back, but reaching around for a few fresh strokes quickly remedied that problem. She loved the feeling of him throbbing under her grasp. Any male, in fact. It was empowering. Intoxicating even. Dabbling with girls on occasion was fun, but nothing compared to getting a good dicking.

A hiss escaped her lips as he latched onto her breasts and started suckling. ‘Everyone loves my girls,’ she chuckled to herself. He rolled his tongue around the nipple carefully, but seemed unwilling to use his teeth. She didn’t care; his tongue was heavenly enough. He quickly switched breasts and lavished its twin with a trail of kisses and suckling. It took a little work to regain their momentum, but he had her moaning again in short order. She clung to his neck as her hand pumped his stallionhood for all it was worth. She jumped a little as a smoldering piece of stallion meat kissed her sex. The animal groan that came from her lips was enough to get the juices flowing.

Her eyes bulged a little when Big Mac quickly wrapped his forelegs around her milky chest and rolled so he was once more on top.

“Let me have you.”

He peppered her again with kisses, first her lips before moving down to her breasts. She wailed in delight, tightening her grip around his neck so he wouldn’t leave. His proud stallion rested hotly against her mound.

“Let me show you.”

He was pawing and snorting now, desperate to shove her burning length into her tight sex. What a herculean effort it took to resist that urge. She wanted to be on top in order to not get hurt by his monstrous length, but she trusted him. He knew her secret, and all he cared about was showing her a little love. She lifted her hips to give him better leverage.

“Worship me, big boy.”

She grunted as his head rammed against her labia. It was still a tight fit and the oversized intruder parted her flower inch by agonizing inch. It felt wonderful and first, but now it hurt. If his length was intimidating, it was nothing compared to his girth. Her vagina was designed to push out something a lot larger than that, but the pain mixing in with the pleasure was slowly winning out.

And just like that, he was inside.

Sophia cooed as she felt his heartbeat where they were conjoined. This is what she wanted. He waited for her to adjust, slobbering her breasts as she gyrated and readjusted herself. She looked down past Mac’s now messy shock of blond mane. It didn’t look like anything at all was inside her. He had so much more love to give.

“Okay,” she whimpered in his ear. She rubbed his back encouragingly, the cold metal making him shiver in cold and pleasurable delight, sensations he was giving her with ease. He adjusted his grip on her chest and pulled out agonizingly slow so that only his flare was nestled snuggling within her needy cunt. With a measured precision, he thrust back in slowly, measuring her response. He began seesawing into her little by little. It wasn’t long before she began rocking her own hips back and forth to match his movements.

Her own excitement conjoined his own leaking stallionhood deep within. The thought made her think of both of their juices still on her lips and the marvelous eroticism of being pummeled by the biggest cock in her life. The impending sore hips were a thing of the past as she thrust back to meet Big Mac like a depraved slut.

More and more he worked her over, sliding in slowly and deeply in such a delicious cum-inducing manner. With every rock of their hips, more and more of his stallionhood entered her poor, abused pussy. It wasn’t long until they both felt him connect at her deepest and a twinge of pleasure and pain coursed through them both. He was a little over halfway inside, just short of the medial ring that kissed the outer lips of her pussy. He didn’t dare try to go any deeper than that, even though the horniness was enough to make her beg to hilt her in an instant and pump her full of his seed. His big, round orbs, so full of seed. She wondered how much he was going to pump into her as if he needed to pour his soul into her womb with every spurt. The thought was enough to trigger her second orgasm of the night. 

Sophia’s hypersensitive cunt milked him for all she was worth. She wrapped her legs around his flanks, egging him on as her cunt twitched around him. He had to be close. Her breast popped from his mouth and he lay his head on her chest. He was focused on nothing but thrusting his hips into her now, obeying the need to fill his little broodmare full of his virile load.

She hugged him tight and embraced the feeling of his soft fur brushing up against her naked body as she rode out her orgasm, It wasn’t nearly as strong as her first, but it was lasting much longer. He was so close. She could feel it now. The shaft buried deep in her core expanded with blood, straining her vaginal walls and threatening to tear her apart. He gave one more thrust, grinding viciously into her yielding rear.

The second his hot seed burst from his cock like a flood, she orgasmed a third time. No lover could even compare to the load pumping into her right now. His flare had sealed her up with an almost airtight lock. She screamed gibberish as she cradled his head protectively to her chest. With every new spurt his hips jerked forward, adding a few more pleasant tingles to an already incredible night.

After three orgasms and being literally fucked by a horse, Sophia was exhausted. Big Mac’s voluminous cumshot was enough to escape their union and leak out of her used and abused love tunnel. Their crotches were plastered messily with both of their fluids, and as Big Mac’s erection slowly softened and retreated back into its sheath, the head popped free and another fresh load dumped out onto the sheets.

His full weight collapsed onto her. He too was panting with the exertion needed to scratch that primal itch. For the next several minutes they were content with basking in the pleasant afterglow of good sex. She stroked him behind his ears in that little sweet spot she’d come to identify.

“I’d love to keep you around for later, Big Boy,” she intoned in a sing-song voice. Big Mac nipped at her breast, too tired to speak. She snuggled closer, inhaling his scent as deeply as she could. She continued to stroke his back affectionately, the smooth metal caressing slowly along his spine. As she curled up for a nap, his sweet, sexy baritone rang out before he too curled close.

“Ah’ve still got a few more hours left.”





Chapter Commentary: LINK
Editors: Softy8088, The Synn Lofsvard, TittySparkles, RainbowBob
> SINless Desire (Ease-of-Reading Cut)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	SINless Desire

Sophia's head rattled back and forth under each minute bump and shamble of the large train. Grumbling to herself, she found a slightly more comfortable position on the metro's peeling vinyl seats.

"'We need you to come in,' they said. 'It's just one double,' they said. Fuck you," she groaned to no one in particular. The hypnotic flash of light and dark as the metro passed the tunnel lights was enough to lull her into sleep's warm embrace, but now was not the time to sleep. Despite having a compartment all to herself, a small girl like herself, all alone on a Seattle tube, was a tempting target for many.

Her eyes wandered to the holovid screwed near her head. It was muted, but it had been playing broadcasts ever since she got off of work and quickly scampered to the early departing vessel of mass urban transit.


NEWFOUND RELATIONS WITH AWAKENED ARRIVALS DEEMED “EXTRAORDINARILY PROMISING,” ACCORDING TO AN ARES MACROTECHNOLOGY SPOKESPERSON


The screen was showing footage of several diplomats and armed personnel approaching two... somethings. The first was a broad-chested creature that greatly resembled a small horse or large pony, but the proportions were all wrong. The eyes were large and expressive, and the snout far less defined than earthen equines. Despite never having an affinity for livestock or animal genetics, something about the creature seemed unerringly male. Perhaps it was the large fetlocks and stout posture, lantern jaw, or even something as totally normal as the horn protruding from his head.

His companion was even more difficult to comprehend. Unicorns were reserved for children and tripping balls every other Friday, not living creatures. At least they were known, recognizable creatures, something his pink companion was not. Gold and violet locks hugged her youthful face. A biologist Sophia was not, but the slender form and smooth curves gave her the impression the other creature was female. What didn’t make sense was the pair of wings attached to her side.

“There’s a reason I don’t watch the fuckin’ news,” she said with a derisive laugh.

Her thoughts returned to the broadcast. She had known of the extraterrestrials for quite some time. Fantastical or not... what did it matter? Even the confirmation of such foreigners seemed insignificant. She was just a corporate drone working five days a week, eight hours a day. She went home, washed, rinsed, put in a movie, and waited for the next day. She drifted about, meeting the occasional friend. No career ladder to climb. No significant other, male or female, to come home to every night.

‘Aliens...’ she thought, tasting the word as much as she could. She reached within the confines of her mind amongst all the wires, circuits, gears, cyberware, and tools almost three decades of life had taught her to use and build. Every child dreamed of aliens or monsters or fey at some point. To have confirmation that they were real, to know they carried a life possibly more fantastical and wondrous than any childish whimsy and dream...

Nothing...

There was nothing there, not even a spark of life. She couldn’t even muster a laugh.

For a moment, she wondered what her friends would think about ponies coming to Seattle. "Heh. Threats from Gunny; no contest from that bloke. Atherton..." She had to think for a moment. Memories of the man often were accompanied by the occasional wince, but that was because he kept trying to get her to go on a job. "Fuck, I don't even want to think about it." Her eyes drifted back towards the broadcast.

The cameraman’s movements were twitchy and nervous, but were centered on a pair of creatures similar to the pink winged unicorn from before. One was very tall, maybe even taller than Gunny, and had a coat as white as the purest snow. She was bent low and speaking to a lavender-coated creature. Behind them was some titanic machine that gleamed with luminescent energy. Before she could get a better look, several ponies in armored barding that surrounded the base of the machine froze in place before the camera feed cut to black. All the while, the same two headings lined the bottom of the screen. 


ALLEGED U.C.A.S. WHISTLEBLOWER WARNS OF SUSPICIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES CONCERNING EQUESTRIAN ARRIVALS. METHOD OF TRANSPORTATION DEEMED “NOT A RELIABLE VECTOR FOR SAFE TRANSPORT AND MISSING SEVERAL VARIABLES TO BE PHYSICALLY PLAUSIBLE.” 



A JOINT MEETING OF ARES MACROTECHNOLOGY AND U.C.A.S. PERSONNEL IS SCHEDULED TO REVIEW THE ISSUE AT AN UNSPECIFIED DATE.


No sooner had she read that last line, for the holovid cut to yet another broadcast. Was there anything else going on other than ponies? Wasn’t something on fire or being stolen? Could a politician get his face peeled off by a gangbanger just to mix things up?


NEGOTIATIONS IN PLACE TO LIMIT TRAVEL QUOTAS TO AND FROM EQUESTRIAN REALMS



QUESTIONS POSED TO ARES MACROTECHNOLOGY AND GREAT DRAGON DUNKELZAHN ABOUT DETAILS CONCERNING EQUINE WORLDS AND/OR REALMS HAS SO FAR GONE UNANSWERED


The video was showing the white unicorn from before, along with his strange winged unicorn companion, the purple one, and the tall white creature together speaking to members wearing uniforms of the Saeder-Krupp and Ares Macrotechnology corporations. The tall white pony, the leader of the group, if Sophia had to hazard a guess, was speaking to a well-dressed Caucasian man with long silver hair and golden eyes.

"Ugh," she groaned, tuning them out. Muted or not, there were better things to do rather than dwell on such thoughts. Getting plastered until she forgot an entire day came to mind. A soft, female voice echoed over the PA system.


WE WILL SOON BE ARRIVING AT THE CRAFTSMAN DISTRICT. THOSE DEPARTING, PLEASE GATHER YOUR BELONGINGS.


The floor wasn’t that interesting, yet that didn’t stop her from trying to melt a hole through the plasteel flooring if she stared at it long enough. Her left arm twitched involuntarily and she clutched it tightly. The lights flashed slower and slower, interrupting the almost dream-like languor she had submersed herself in so easily. She could hear voices on the platform, the bright sodium lights that illuminated the concrete, and the splashes of darkness that outlined which ones had succumbed to urban decay.

Sophia tilted her head. It had to been a mistake, the sound she just heard. Curiosity stronger than anything, she turned to look out the window.

A small rabble of ponies, each with a silver band around a foreleg, stood ready and eager behind the metro safety line. That alone was odd. Why were any of them even there in the first place? The holovid had said there were travel quotas, and yet here were a group of them right in front of her. Why weren’t they at least escorted?

The group had walked forward as the doors opened, all of them with eyes wide with wonder and amazement. They had stepped forward, their hooves giving several loud, disharmonious clip-clops across the hard steel metro platform. Most Seattle citizens instinctively walked as quietly as possible given the city’s... reputation with those like Gunny. That, and none of the ponies were wearing anything other than horseshoes and a few saddlebags.

“Now what was that all about?” one whispered to the group. The voice was female, yet somehow sounded garbled and strange. It was common english without a doubt, but something still sounded off.

“No idea,” another replied. This one was much taller, male, red, stocky, and had several bags lashed to his hindquarters. She turned her full attention to the ponies and her now noisy compartment.

The next speaker was also male, this one with a coat a light shade of blue and a shock of black hair for a mane. He fluttered his wings and said, “They’ve been looking at us like that since we came to this city. Although none so... condescending.”

“But did you see him? He was huge!” said a unicorn with such enthusiasm she made Sophia giggle. 

Voices carried in such cramped quarters. Small enough as she was to avoid notice, she could not hide after laughing. The herd jumped in shock and turned on her. Strangely, opposite of what she expected, the males were toward the center of the cluster and not the females.

There were about a dozen of them in total, all of them ranging from waist-high to chest-high. What was seriously offputting was just how large their eyes were. They dominated a large portion of their cranium and it made her feel like she was looking at an exceedingly creepy doll. The heads, each ending in a shorter snout than she expected, were much larger than the holovids made them appear. 

‘Alright, Soph, first contact with one of them. Yeah, they look weird. Just pick your poison carefully.’

“Take a pic, you tossers; it will last longer than gaping like fish.”

‘Smooth.’

“Name’s Sophia.”

Another pony stepped out from behind the red one. She hadn’t seen the mare due to his tremendous bulk. As she stepped out, the red one inched closer protectively.

‘Odd... the females protect the males, yet this one is different...’

“Howdy. Name’s Applejack,” the mare declared with a cockney accent. Applejack wore saddlebags of her own and a Stetson atop her head that covered a head full of rich blond hair streaked with a few early strands of silver. “Sorry fer starin’; ya jus’ kinda snuck up on us.” She was friendly enough, despite the kneejerk refuse that spouted from Sophia’s often foul mouth.

“Kinda hard to sneak when sitting down, AJ.” Sophia drew her legs to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. “Points for being small, however. I can sneak where I want. Even big boy there is bigger than me.”

She nodded to the red one, who looked down and knickered but said nothing. Calloused skin covered the entirety of his neck and his legs bulged with thick ropes of hard muscle. Sophia might have been taller, but there was no question the stallion outweighed her.

“Oh, this fella here’s Big Macintosh. Say hi, Big Mac.” Applejack prodded the stallion to answer with a nudge of her elbow. The contortion made Sophia wince a little in sympathy; Applejack was physically fine, but the motion looked like it hurt. They certainly didn’t have Earth horse skeletal structure.

‘Pony freakshow anatomy! Step right up everyone and for twenty nuyen you too can be amazed!’

“Evening, ma’am...” Low and caramel smooth, Big Macintosh’s voice contrasted heavily with his burly appearance and wide barrel. She had expected something more like Gunny’s rasp rather than a soft and well-spoken voice. “Just call me Big Mac.”

“You’ll have to excuse anyone comin' on. Don’t blame them; next stop is the Renton district and there’s not a lot of friendly customers there.” The metro jerked slightly and they were moving again. The ponies eyed the lights as they passed the greasy windows one by one. There were indeed twelve ponies in total, the only males being the light blue one, Big Mac, and a unicorn nestled with a group of its horned kin to her far right. Each picked a seat and hopped up on the vinyl before sitting down. It didn’t look like they found sitting on seats designed for humans all that comfortable, but it must have been better than standing or sitting on the floor. Black grime encrusted several splotches of grooved plasteel. Being around Gunny long enough gave her adequate knowledge to spot a few bullet holes apart from regular automotive decay.

“What’s up with this Renton place?” Applejack had hopped up on an empty seat. Feeling the warmth of an earlier occupant, she stretched out to cover two seats, as did every other pony aboard the metro. Freakish anatomy aside, sitting down like a human couldn’t apply to them. “Bad neighborhood?”

“Ahhhhh... There’s just no real place of interest.” Sophia waved her hand nonchalantly. Hopefully they bought it. “We’re still in Tacoma district, and that’s mostly just ports and industry. I just got off work there. The best place to go is Downtown. That’s where all the good shit is.”

“Isn’t the Renton district the next stop?” Big Mac removed a map from Applejack’s saddlebags and was perusing through locations. The blue pony had sat himself down on the seats adjacent to her own and was content with just looking around and taking in the scenery.

“Yup. I live there. Not sure why you’re going. Are you going to be alright?” That last part was directed towards a unicorn that placed herself on the corner farthest from Sophia. Her perfectly groomed snow-white coat and azure mane along with her black cloak and a gilded brooch bespoke affluence. She was currently leaning against the safety glass with her nose pressed against the window. Her eyes were glazed over, silently watching the tunnel lights stream by in luminescent streams.

“She’s part of the royal court. Scribe or some such,” Applejack replied instead of the scribe. The scribe ignored her, pulled out a sketchbook from her saddlebags, and began doodling privately. “Say hi, Rose.”

Rose said nothing. Applejack sighed, dejected. “Sorry ‘bout her. She don’t talk much.”

“She’d fit right in Seattle real well then.” As subtly as she could, Sophia slipped off her shoes and dangled them in her hand. “It’s in our nature to give each other privacy.”

Applejack cocked her head to the side and adjusted her hat, pondering the words. Big Mac only looked around the metro before turning his eyes back to the technician's. As their eyes met, Sophia gave him a wolfish grin. The fur around his cheeks noticeably flushed lightly and he looked away. ‘Got us a shy one, eh?’

“That don’t seem very neighborly of y’all,” Applejack commented. Seeing that her words could be misconstrued, she held up her forelegs defensively. “Not to say ya haven’t been friendly, but it’s just...” She trailed off, struggling for words.

“Not what your mates give you?”

Applejack nodded. “Yeah.”

“Just our own way of being polite. Let everyone mind their own business, and if they want help, they’ll ask for it.”

Thump!

As quick and naturally as she could manage it, Sophia stomped her feet and rose to her full, fairly unimpressive, height. No longer cushioned by her shoes, the stomp resounded through the small compartment like a gunshot and twelve sets of ears stood at attention. Sophia stood on her tiptoes and stretched as far as she could. Only one or two cracks cascaded up and down her legs and spine this time, but it was enough to do what she wanted. She jerked her head to the left and then right, issuing a few more pops, all the while seeing how the ponies reacted to the sudden sound. She stretched her right arm and earned another pop. Out of habit, she did the same to her left, but no cracks or pops came.

“What? I’ve been sitting for too long.”

She plopped back down, satisfied with her scan of the room. The pale blue pegasus to her left jumped and stood at attention and was only now settling down. What interested her was Rose and Big Mac. Rose’s horn was shimmering with a pale pink light and looking around wildly before she realized no danger had come to their small compartment. Big Mac had stood on his seat and moved to cover Applejack’s side with his own body. His eyes were wide until he discovered the disturbance was nothing more than a sudden desire to stretch.

‘Bodyguard... So that explains it...’

The remaining eight ponies, all unicorns, had resumed their quiet huddle and low chatter. One pony in particular had turned her eyes on Sophia. Sophia’s eyes lingered on the ivory mare for a little longer than she wished, and the mare asked in a very posh and soothing accent, “Can I help you?”

“Unless you can get this lump of metal,” the woman said, banging her fist on the window, “moving faster, not in the slightest.” The mare’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she did not add to the conversation.

“So Applejack. Why exactly are you here in Seattle? Not exactly the best place for a vacation.” Sophia stretched out her legs and felt a crack in each ankle. That question seemed to get a noble-looking unicorn mare’s attention in the entourage of unicorns. The pegasus was sniffing the air, one of the many strange scents catching his attention. Sophia slipped her shoes back on and waited for a response.

“We’re just here to look around,” the pegasus answered for her. He shuffled awkwardly in his seat and a covert feather fell from his wings. On a whim, Sophia plucked the feather and stuck it behind her ear.

The pegasus did not react as she expected. She had expected casual indifference or something akin to possessiveness over the feather, not stammering and a blush to turn his cheeks a light shade of violet behind his fur. Applejack started chuckling like mad, and even Big Mac cracked a smile. Out of the corner of her eye, the noble held a dainty hoof to her mouth to hide her curving lips.

“Soarin’s right,” Applejack said between giggles. “We’re here jus’ to check out the place and yer city’s just the first ‘n last stop on our trip.”

“Alright, but why the hell are you all laughing?” she asked the crowd. Even the unicorns around the noble were sniggering. 

“It’s a pegasus thing,” Rose answered from behind her sketchbook. Sophia hadn’t seen it until now, but the scribe wasn’t holding the quill in her mouth of hooves. It was dancing around the parchment—actual parchment!— while covered in the same glow of her horn. “It’s a common dating practice among pegasi to give significant others a feather. You pretty much told him you’re looking for a mate.”

Sophia blinked. ‘Well... didn’t see that one coming.’

“I’m... not looking for somepony,” Soarin muttered to the wall.

Seeing a chance to poke fun at her new companions, Sophia leaned over Soarin and slipped a hand across his wing. If giving a feather was a private or intimate act, she imagined what caressing them might do to him. “That’s too bad,” she whispered into his ear.

Soarin’s wings twitched and flared open. Hitting the wall of the metro, he accidentally propelled himself off his seat, sprawling himself onto the floor. The car collectively burst into laughter once more. At last, Sophia was filled with hearty mirth. Only then did she realize how long she had gone without laughing, truly laughing. The occasional gallows humor with Gunny or Atherton aside, it was such a rare opportunity to have some time to enjoy such a simple thing. All of those worries and fears, both the tall and the small, had been eating at her mind. The demons clawing at her soul, however pertinent, no longer mattered for those few brief seconds.

“Ohhh, I needed that,” she said between stuttering gaps. Wiping a tear from her eye, she poked fun at the other stallion in the room. “What about you, Big Mac? Want to come to my place and see my girls?”

“I didn’t know you had kids,” Big Mac said as he wrestled control over his own chuckling. His laughter was much more subdued than Applejack’s.

“Uhhhh... I don’t.” Applejack’s and Big Mac’s eyes looked what Sophia guessed was confused. Certain expressions were difficult to pinpoint, despite the similarities to human facial structures. “Some things just don’t cross cultures, I guess.”

“Care to make any recommendations for anything that would, hmm?” the white unicorn asked. She was idly stroking her deep violet mane. Sophia could detect the lingering scent of soaps and shampoos emanating from her corner of the metro car. Soarin, Applejack, and Big Mac had a ruggishness about them that indicated hard labor, and that contrasted with the noble’s pristine coat.

“Posh losers exist everywhere.”

“Oh, let’s see,” Sophia hummed to herself. A few ponies perked up at getting the input of a Seattle resident. “There are the sports teams for starters. Football, basketball, and baseball go over well. Was never interested in Urban Brawl, but there’s that.”

“Never heard of that one.”

“I’d skip that for now. It’s never on anyone’s priorities. Besides: baseball. World’s greatest pasttime.”

Sophia saw the reflection of the holovid in the window. Craning her neck over her shoulder, she caught the last bits of the headline before it switched.


RUMORS CONFIRMED CONCERNING UPCOMING BUYOUT OF SOFTWARE AND NANOTECH COMPANY EDEN ENTERPRISES BY AAA MEGACORP YAMATETSU



AN EASTERN DRAGON HAS BEEN SPOTTED OVER BUG CITY. CURRENT U.C.A.S. OFFICIALS ARE SCRAMBLING TO ASCERTAIN THE DRAGON’S IDENTITY.


Buyout...

“Aw, bollocks...” Sophia moaned. “I don’t want to get fired. Please, no downsizing.”

“I take it you work at that there Eden place?” Applejack asked. Sophia could only nod into her hands.

‘Could crash at Gunny’s for a bit if it comes down to that. Atherton might give me a room if I pull my weight... And go on a few jobs...’ Her last thought filled her with dread. She was not physically capable enough for an Atherton “job”.

“Sorry to hear that,” Big Mac said quietly. “Is it that bad? Can you get another job?”

Sophia sighed wearily. The red tape that came with any buyout would usually take a year or so to cut. The immediate future wouldn’t change, but the long-term possibilities were in question. Working as a hired tech for Atherton was, unfortunately, looking more and more appealing. At least it provided stable work.

“I’ll be fine,” she said slowly, a finger tugging at the strings on her jacket. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

‘I’ve been shot at before. Strange enough, the possibility losing my job causes more grief...’

As simple a sensation as it was, Sophia was thankful for the mask of relaxing smells coming off the ponies, especially the noble mare. She had long gotten used to the dirt, grime, and smell of old oil that often permeated the metro. The streets of Seattle were often dirty and saturated with various forms of refuse and decay, and the calming scent, however strange as it may have been, was pleasant. As Gunny had stated earlier, something so simple can alleviate the gnawing discomfort and worry that breeds in the back of the skull.

Speaking of... she had yet to give her name. Sophia mechanically turned to the right. Some of the ponies were watching her, or the train. A pair were leaning their heads on each other’s withers in an attempt to nap before they got off. The noble was watching her.

“I haven’t caught your name yet...” Sophia asked slowly. It was her eyes. Sophia swore she could get lost in their unfathomable blue depths. It was the same hawkish watchfulness Gunny wore when she and that hulking slab of meat first met.

‘Clever girl...’ 

“Apologies for not introducing myself Miss Sophia. The name is Rarity.”

Sophia turned on Applejack, who had briefly turned her attention on a still mildly flustered Soarin.

‘You tricky bitch...’

Rarity had only asked a question of her in order to direct the conversation. Throughout her and Applejack’s lengthy conversation, she had been watching the entire time, letting Applejack ask the questions while the mare silently judged Sophia and her answers.

‘You bloody, clever, brilliant sod. You set up Applejack as the face, while you’ve been watching the whole time. Are you and AJ even here for the same reason? Does she even know the real reason why you are here? Tourists? Phaw.’

Focusing on Rarity once again, she saw the mare return the gaze coolly. Ponies were cute and disarming, and when they knew that, that made them all the more dangerous. Recognition or acknowledgement must have graced her own face, for Rarity’s lips curved slightly.

‘Why are you really here?’

The sentiment was echoed soon after, for Rarity asked her second question of the night. “I must admit my curiosity is strong. You seem quite unalarmed at seeing ponies, Miss Sophia.”

“Just Sophia.” Sophia curled up to make herself smaller before chastising herself. Looking small, adorable, and harmless only worked against physical threats. The same techniques didn’t work against a face mining for intel. “I admit... Talking ponies; would never have called that one. But honestly, I’m not too concerned. Got a wee bit ‘o trouble and a bottle with my name on it. I’m worried about that. I’m worried about my bed.”

“Oh?” Rarity pondered quietly.

The technician’s head konked against the window and she closed her eyes. “If I worried about every little thing, I’d explode. Compartmentalize, rationalize, and partition. Bury everything else under a thick layer of sarcasm. No offense... but I can’t muster the energy to care.”

“Sorry t’ hear that,” Applejack said pitifully.

Before Applejack or any other pony would pile on the angst, the human waved dismissively at her direction and interjected, “‘s nothin’.”

The group felt a sudden shudder. It was a sign imprinted on the thousands of individuals who were slaves to mass transit. The intermittent lights fastened into the tunnel walls were whizzing by the windows slower and slower while the metro’s AI lifelessly announced their destination.

“This is my stop.” Sophia wiggled her shoulders and the reassuring weight of her knapsack reasserted itself. After sitting on the train so long, it was easy to forget herself in the now. The hum of the magclamps and the constant flashes of light were hypnotic and dreamlike. It was easy to lose track of time, or be lured into sleep.

Sophia stood up again, stretching to her maximum, unimpressive height. “Fun yakkin’ with you lot, but I’m in for a bit more than a kip when I get home.”

“Well,” Rarity began as she too stood. Her whispering sycophants ceased their chatter and those resting twitched their ears and looked around blearily to see what was the fuss. “I cannot allow you to walk home all alone as you are.”

Sophia waved her hand dismissively. “You don’t even know where I live. Don’t—”

“Big Mac, would you please be so kind as to escort the lady home?”

‘What?’

Big Mac looked to Applejack, who shrugged and nodded. The stallion rose to his hooves and hopped to the floor with a light clip-clop. “Ready when you are ma’am.”

Now she couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity. “It’s fine. Anyway, we’re going to my neighborhood. If you got places to go, you don’t want to go to my neighborhood. Besides, you’d lose track of your little entourage here,” she said as she jerked her head aimlessly, indicating the rest of the crowd.

‘You don’t want to go to Renton, especially with how much they hate metahumans. If you get caught by the wrong person, who the hell knows what they’d do to you.’

“Oh, no need to worry for little old us,” Rarity said with a light laugh. The humor and playfulness that clung to her eyes was growing as if she were privy to some grand joke she refused to share. “You yourself said Renton wasn’t dangerous, and I know how to find Big Mac no matter where he is.”

‘...What?’

Big Mac, who was quietly conversing with Applejack, nodded again in her direction, which only made the chill across her spine all the more potent. Did those bands have anything to do with Rarity’s claim? What about Rose’s magic? Did the stuffy mare have some kind of magic woven on her burly red friend? Ever since the Awakening, magic had slowly begun permeating the Earth and magicians began popping up all over the globe. Magic was strange and unpredictable, and therefore something to be avoided.

And worst of all, Rarity called her bluff on Renton. She was really starting to hate the mare.

“I’m fine,” she stressed more than she needed. “Stay with your mates, big boy.”

The metro slowed to a crawl and more light leaked through the windows. The first Renton station was upon them.

“Nonsense.” Rarity’s own horn was soon alight with a dim cornflower glow. With a slight, ephemeral noise and a click of her saddlebags, a pair of tiny, black, thumb-sized clips floated through the air. One hovered to Sophia, while the other nestled itself firmly in Big Mac’s bags. “The hour is late, and as one of our first real friends in this city, I must insist. Consider this as a brief thank you for your help and information.”

Without even realizing it, she had brought her hands up and closed them around the levitating credstick. For some reason, she had expected it to be warm to the touch after it was touched by the magic.

“Thanks, but—”

“Tut, tut, I won’t take no for an answer. Plus, Mister Dunkelzahn had agreed the Equestrian bit was considerably stronger than your nuyen. It’s safe to say we have been imparted with more currency than we know what to do with. I do not regret lightening my load by a single... credstick, was it?”

The credstick fell to the floor with a click that echoed like thunder in her ears.

“...What!?”

Either Rarity was a liar to rival  Atherton, or she had more gall than even the most foolish of street trash. Rarity’s eyes were wide due to her sudden outburst, but devoid of whatever slight arrogance or malignance Sophia had spotted just minutes before. Those eyes were large. Too large. Some instinct told her they should be far more expressive than what she had anticipated, but it was wrong.

She had just casually namedropped one of the most powerful figures in the world, and Sophia couldn’t tell if she was lying. Dragons. They had came with the Awakening, beasts of legend sleeping for millennia. Rewinding her mental snapshots of holovids and new clippings, she did her best to recall any image of the ponies in front of her from any official news report. Her apathy had been her undoing; not a single memory of any of them came to light.

‘You’re fucking with me. You have to be fucking with me. Please, I don’t want to have to deal with a dragon. Never trust a dragon. Never cut a deal with a dragon. Are you fuckers out of your mind?!’

Trying her best to rein in her panic, she tried to rationalize what she had just heard. There was a fair chance Rarity was lying. As she was still a newcomer to Seattle, there would be little in terms of proof to support her claim. And little to deny it. But if she acted on the idea Rarity wasn’t chumming it up with a dragon, and she truly was... there would be no hole deep or dark enough to hide from the likes of him. Getting caught in any machinations Rarity or Dunkelzahn might have planned could end up in a death sentence.

Then another thought sprung to the forefront... it was still just a name. A terrifying name to be sure, but the Big D was by no means inviting her to dinner. She didn’t need to enter any Equestrian political games, or work on any projects tied to dragons or Equestrians. For lack of a better word, she was still “safe”.

‘I so hope I don’t eat those words.’

So, Rarity namedropped Dunkelzahn as a threat to ensure good behavior, or she truly didn’t know how dangerous it was to casually talk about dragons. Capricious, devious, and fully willing to carry grudges for centuries, they were as close to a god as one could get, and none more similar to devils.

“I... suppose showing you a few sights on the way wouldn’t hurt.” She gave Big Mac a smile to seal the deal. The fellowship was set.

“Um... Miss Sophia?” Soarin called out. He had gotten up in the fuss and had been trying unsuccessfully to capture her attention as he poked her left arm with a hard keratin hoof. His ears folded slightly as she refocused her attention on him. “We’re... we’re at the Bellevue Hilton hotel in the Bellevue district.” His eyes moved towards the feather still in her hair before abashedly meeting the floor. “Feel free to stop by.”

The metro had slowed to a halt. A smattering of people were waiting behind the safety line, eager to get on board. None but a few were damp with the earlier deluge. Good; the rains must have subsided. 

“I’ll bring him back in one piece.”

‘This might be tricky...’

Sophia quickly picked up and pocketed the credstick. No point in giving up a few free meals. The ponies returned to claim their seats before they could be taken by any newcomers. Big Mac had marched right next to the door and waited for her like a proper gentleman, if any still existed in Seattle. His blond mane of...mane... blew in the hiss of air as the pneumatic doors opened.

“After you, ma’am.”

“Chivalry hath not been vanquished,” Sophia said casually, trying to inject a little Elizabethan era into her British accent. Big Mac’s cheeks flushed slightly and smiled before he lifted a foreleg in what she could best describe as an “after you” expression.

Taking the initiative, and smiling internally at what her neighbors might think after she brought this particular male home, she stepped off the train and onto the platform. The other people jockeying for position parted around her as Big Mac cantered to her side. Her face was already downcast to hide her features beneath her bangs and jacket hood. She could see Big Mac out of the corner of her eye. Whatever attention he was getting, he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

Sophia swiped her wrist as she came to the turnstile. Her head turned down as it was, she saw it flash her name, job description, and cost of the trip being deducted from her personal account. Big Mac took a little longer getting through with his burlier chest and the necessary contortion to remove Rarity’s credstick to pay for a trip.

A fresh wave of ads greeted them as they climbed the stairs to the Renton streets. More gear girls offered soda, and she lost interest immediately. A cavalcade of scents greeted her as she rose to the surface. For a moment, she thought she could smell bits of fresh water from Lake Young before it was drowned out in brine, petrol, and sweet ‘ol Seattle tarmac. She lifted her head to better get a look at her surroundings. There were a few people in coats and jackets meant for the past rain. Those who were not busily going about their business took a moment to stare at the pony in her company. Big Mac was looking down the entrance to the metro, concern on his snout.

“Come on, we got a walk ahead of us,” Sophia prodded to both get home and get attention off him.

“Jus’ lead the way.”

Her footsteps noiselessly contacted the city streets amongst scattered pieces of newspaper and debris. It was the opposite of Bellevue, the upper class district of Seattle. The low to middle class Renton district reeked “average". Just ahead of them on the corner of East Smith Street and North Central Avenue was a noodle shop and bar called Mon Hing. She had visited there when she was graced with a few extra nuyen to blow. The shop adjacent to that was little more than a vast open lot that offered deals on used automobiles and bikes, items far outside her current price range.

“So,” Sophia piped up after a moment of silence. Big Mac seemed content to stew in it until they reached her apartment and offered nothing outside of the occasional wayward glance. “You’re a quiet one.”

Big Mac focused on his steps for a moment before carefully selecting his words. As soon as he decided on what to say, his smooth baritone washed over the faint sounds of partying, neighborhood chatter, whizzing automobiles, and gunfire. “Never been much of a talker, ma’am.”

“Oh, frag it, call me Sophia, not ma’am. Don’t give me that “lady” drek Rarity was dishing out.”

The burst of profanity had caused Big Mac to chuckle. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with mirth.

Sophia gave her own chuckle and placed a hand in each pocket. “Rarity. She always like that?”

“Eeyup.”

“Imagine it must be tough hanging around her. Know a few myself like her.” Switching gears, she removed her hands from her pockets and tossed her hood off. It took a moment to fiddle with each braid, but soon her pleats were nothing more than a solid sheen of gold, if in need of a brush after the day. Satisfied, she unzipped her jacket to the night. The cool air caressed her heated body. The winds carried from the ocean brought with them a slight chill that was pleasant after the shuffling subway trip.

“She’s alright,” he said quietly. “She don’t always do well, but she means well.”

‘Well-wishes don’t stop a bullet.’

“You have a nice smile,” he said slowly. Sophia blinked and turned on him. The stallion murmured something before turning away from her. Was he blushing? “You seemed so serious before. It’s good to see you smile.”

“It’s hard to get decent company around here. Lots o’ folks are twitchy because I don’t know that many people and I’m just your run-of-the-mill dataslave.”

“Dataslave?” Big Mac asked, concerned.

“Oh, it’s nothing bad,” Synergy dismissed with a wave of her hand.

‘I’ve thought of no less than five ways to dispose of my boss’ body.’

“Think of it this way,” Sophia began slowly, bringing her hands out to make her argument more expressive. “Renraku, Yamatetsu, Eden, Ares Macrotechnology, Saeder-Krupp; they all provide us with jobs to sustain a planet with a little over six billion and change to spare. Yeah, my job is looking a little shaky, but that’s one out of billions. I should count myself lucky I got one. I pay my bills, live off my own sweat, and survive. Everyone’s thankful to the corporations. There are a lot of people working in my field, and because there’s so many, they call us dataslaves. Nothin’ bad about it.”

Big Mac was silent as she gave her little speech on corporate life. It was a full minute before Big Mac responded. He stayed at her side as she made a right turn onto a street that was still well lit, but wedged in between two high rise skyscrapers. The shadows they cast loomed above them, blocking off the glow from the cloud cover’s silver aura. When he did finally respond, it wasn’t what she had expected to hear out of the stallion.

“Didn’t work in some big building growin’ up. Worked on a farm mah whole life.” That was his reply? Was he still talking about the same thing as she? Before she could ask, he added, “Made me learn some things.”

“Like what?”

“Ah know the smell of bullshit.”

Her footsteps stopped and for a moment all she could do was stare at the stallion. He managed a step or two himself before he halted and met her eyes. For a moment all either could do was stare at the other before Sophia abruptly started walking.

“Heh,” she chuckled. Big Mac followed suit with a husky laugh of his own. Soon they were both openly guffawing, gaining they eyes and ire of a few people walking in the opposite direction. “Didn’t peg you for a smartass.”

“Ah got two lil’ sisters tryin’ to pull the wool o’er mah eyes everyday. Gotta do better than that.”

“Applejack?” she asked. “That your sis?”

“Eeyup.”

“Huh; shoulda called that one,” she thought out loud.

“Hmm?” Big Mac asked, distracted. He was currently sniffing the air, apparently discovering a scent that had caught his attention.

“Thought she was your squeeze.” Big Mac’s blank look was priceless. “Your girlfriend. Your date.”

“Oh, no no no no no...” he shook his head vehemently. “She’s mah sista.”

Sophia grinned evilly. “I can see it now. She steps out of the shower, hair slick from water. You’re standing there waiting your turn. You eyes meet.”

“No. No!” Big Mac said fiercely as his eyes crinkled in annoyance at the ribbing.

“She sees this hunk of a stallion,” she gave his hindquarters a playful swat for emphasis. Big Mac jumped a little from the blow. “She leans in close to say something...”

Big Mac was making a point to not look at her now, although the slightest upturn of his lips across his furred snout spoiled the image of anger. She stared sniggering, her indulgence sated.

He followed her as she turned left, waiting as a pair of automobiles whizzed past the otherwise empty street. The buildings had shifted dramatically from the high rise corporate and business complexes, to dingy apartment buildings squeezed together so tight the alleyways could only allow one way traffic. Sophia tapped Big Mac’s withers and pointed to a congealed mass of steel and concrete that occupied an entire city block. Most windows were dark, but a few glowed yellow with late night activity. Fire escapes crisscrossed back and forth, a scant few individuals enjoying the late night air before turning in.

“That’s my dump of an apartment building. Looks like all the others.”

Sophia just wanted to get home. Renton was a bad district to be in when accompanied by something not human, and a talking pony surely applied. Even if Big Mac had been quiet through most of the walk, only replying to her gentle teasing or questions, he wasn’t human. The occasional passers by were giving her more and more looks, although most centered on Big Mac himself. The stallion did not mind the extra attention, or said nothing if he did. Strangely enough, although something she fully embraced, the streets were drained of most of the usual night walkers.

Sophia skipped forward and turned around, walking backwards as Big Mac followed her to her apartment. His hooves clanked quietly as his horseshoes clopped across the pavement. “So this lady.” Big Mac’s smile returned. “You cut that shit out right now; I’m a lady until I say I’m not, y’here?”

“Certainly,” Big Mac muttered unconvincingly.

Sophia growled, only causing him to chuckle merrily. “Now, this lady’s been wondering something as of late. I get your sister. I get Rose and Soarin. I even get Rarity. What I don’t get is you. Why escort a lady home, especially alone and when she’s someone you don’t even know?”

He didn’t even hesitate before answering her question. He snorted quietly and flicked his mane out of his eye so he could meet hers. “Gran raised me right.”

Sophia kept walking backwards, not breaking eye contact. A few people weaved around the pair, curiously wondering what the technician was doing before seeing who she was talking to. Besides getting a few more odd looks, few had the gall to interrupt as she stepped up to the double doors to her apartment building.

“So you’re tellin’ me that ol’ granny raised her boy right and you’re jumping through these hoops because you’re a sir and a... and a... gentlecolt?” She had stopped walking and blocked his path, the unspoken demand for an answer cutting through the urban melancholy.

The stallion seemed a little perturbed she even asked such a thing. Standing there with her hands on her hips, she was hardly an imposing figure especially at her size. “Well, eeyup,” he intoned slowly. “Ah don’t know you all that well, but you’re a’right. You’ve got a good heart. Even if I didn’t know you at all, ah was always raised t’ treat others with respect. You’ve been nice. You deserve a little respect.”

Sophia felt a pang in her heart. “Sounds like a whole lot of self righteous chin wagging to me.” Slowly, she leaned down towards the stallion.

Big Mac shook his head and lifted his chin to her resolutely. While not even close to being as stout as the orc, he was just as incorrigible. “I think you’re a good person, no matter what you’ve said so far. Ain’t nothin’ gonna make me change mah mi–MMPH!”

She had snaked her hands around his neck and gripped his mane in her hands. The hairs were coarse between her gloved fingers, and she took a moment of indulgence before pulling his head to hers.

It took a half second to readjust her head to compensate for his more defined snout, but with a slight tilt she hit the money and their lips met. He tasted like mint and his lips were rough, but warm to the touch. Something in her told her she shouldn’t do such a thing, kissing an animal. Something even more primal, hardwired directly into her self preservation instincts, told her not to kiss someone like Big Mac out in public where word might spread. She didn’t care. Big Mac, in a moment of absolute sincerity and lucidity, gave her something precious: an honest appreciation for her personality and well being.

Big Mac had frozen in place out of shock. He didn’t pull away... but he wasn’t singing praise or showing any signs of enthusiasm either. She felt the distinct urge to slip her tongue and ask for entry, but decided against it; she settled for cradling his head in her arms as she pressed a little harder into the kiss. Thick cords of muscle arched across his neck, a testament to the labor and work ethic he touted in such high regard. He was strong, and his musky, earthy scent sent a cocktail of endorphins rushing through her, begging her to take the kiss further.

He wasn’t human. He wasn’t even humanoid. This wasn’t right.

But he still smelled so good...

Regretfully, she pulled away before she would do something beyond an appreciative kiss. A string of spittle connected their lips before it sagged and broke. Big Mac was still staring at her, brain refusing to comprehend what had just occurred. His face was red, far more so than his lush crimson fur would account.

“You’re sweet.”

That snapped Big Mac out of his trance and he took a half step back, shyly looking to his hooves. He fidgeted slowly before Sophia put a hand under his chin and lifted his gaze to meet hers. He tensed, probably expecting another kiss, but only met her warm smile. “Seattle needs more sweet.”

She backed off slowly, silently saying she wouldn’t take it any farther than she had. 

‘I need a shower. A cold shower.’ An all too familiar tingle had started in her loins.

“Ahhh...” Big Mac tried to form words. He scratched the back of his head with a hoof, something that still looked obscenely abnormal and painful. Sophia found herself looking away as well, for once not capable of even the most basic of snarky responses. The awkward silence stretched longer and longer, neither side sure how to break it.

“Well...” It was her turn to fidget in place. “Thank you for walking me back to my place.” She took a step back and swiped her wrist across an ID scanner. The red eye next to the small silver panel blipped confirmation and turned from red to green. The glass doors hissed noisily open behind her, blowing out a warm draft of air.

“Yeah...” Big Mac met her eyes at last, but struggled to hold her gaze. “It was a pleasure, Sophia.”

“Likewise,” she responded. “Bye, Mac.”

Sophia backed into the doorway. The doors—spinel ceramics, if her eye for details hadn’t failed her—hissed once more, separating her escort from the apartment confines.  For a brief moment, Big Mac lifted a hoof as if to call out to her, but dropped the offending limb uselessly to the ground. Muscle memory had overtaken her, and her pace took her to the elevator shaft at the end of the tiny lobby. The front desk was devoid of the usual personnel, only leaving behind a scent that smelled strangely of fennel.

She was at the door before she even knew it. “Oh get in here; you’re like a lost puppy wandering around like that.” Big Mac had jumped in surprise as she opened the door for him. Recovering, that warm smile returned. “The lady and the gentlecolt; gotta return the favor.”

“They’d sing songs about us, ah’m sure,” he added. 

Sophia beckoned him forth with a wave.  “C’mon up” She caught him pawing at the ground slightly before acquiescing to her offer. This time she couldn’t stop the chuckle escaping her lips. The stallion reminded her of the fresh meat she experienced on the occasional dalliance. Not to say he was a virgin in any sense of the term, and that immediate thought made her mind conjure several strange images, but the situation itself was wholly new ground for both of them, she was sure. That quiet from before had turned into a nervous excitement. Perhaps it was the earlier kiss, or the slow but steadily increasing rapport, or maybe just a burst of hormones shot right into her spine; the excitement was still getting to her.

Sophia cracked her fist against the seventh floor button and the doors closed. Posters advertising a variety of locales and events plastered the inside stainless steel. An old poster advertising concert tickets to a Brazilian pop idol was stuck on the opposite wall of the doors. She took note that the supposed concert was advertised to start last year.

There was a slight tension in the air as the elevator hummed. Big Mac’s eyes were wide, watching his surroundings with care. Rustic indeed; this was probably his first time in an elevator. That was not the issue for Sophia. What eagerness that leaked through the stallion’s careful mask had infected her as well. That habit of rubbing her left arm was back.

Distracted as he was, she took a moment to observe her companion with a finer eye for detail. His fetlocks were unshorn, although carried the sign of being cut recently, no doubt in order to make a cleaner impression on humanity. However ponies got to Earth, at least they did their research or asked the proper person. An image of Rarity holding a tea party next to a full-sized dragon made her smile, before making her feel slightly terrified at the thought that there was a fair chance that could have happened.

His saddlebags were wrapped tight around his powerful body. Hard, well-developed muscles stretched across his back and wide barrel. His shaggy blond mane also showed the signs of recent care, but was marred with sweat and flecks of grime gained from some bustling city. His crimson fur was sporadically dotted with damp patches of sweat.

What caught her attention most was that familiar smell. It wasn’t nearly as strong in the open metro compartment or the city streets, but in the cramped quarters of a tiny elevator, it was impossible to not take in a heady mixture of sweat and earth, along with something herbal that might be homemade soap.

Unfortunately, her visual grope, no matter how appreciative, lingered longer than what was usually considered polite or discreet; she was caught by Big Mac as he in turn examined the posters, catching her staring in the process. She looked away quickly, her hands clasping together near the small of her back.

“So... staying in Seattle long?” she asked to kill the awkwardness.

She looked on, concerned, as for the first time this evening, Big Mac’s face fell. He recovered, straightening his stance, but the image was still burned there in her head. “No, ma’am. We head out tomorrow.”

‘Well, shit.’ It made her wonder why Soarin had bothered inviting her to their hotel room if they checked out tomorrow morning. She felt the urge to grasp the bridge of her nose in embarrassment; she had just invited Big Mac up to her room based on Soarin’s offer and Big Mac’s rising interest in her. And now he’d likely have to leave before the hangover even started.

“Place is mighty cramped,” he commented. He must have realized he touched a nerve with his last comment.

Sophia waved it off before he even had a chance to start. “It’s nothin’. I really don’t need much more than a bug-out bag to be comfortable. Suppose ponies gotta have their space?”

He nodded sagely. “Eeyup. Little ones especially. Being cooped up makes them and most ponies get cabin fever. ‘s in our blood to run.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” she said dismissively, waving her hand. “I’ve got enough space, especially because I don’t got much crap to begin with. I’ve learned to live light. Plus, maneuvering around in small spaces can be pretty handy at times. I’m pretty flexible when I need to be.”

The look of dawning comprehension on his face was utterly priceless. “Ha ha ha ha ha! Oh god, teasing you never gets old.” Big Mac flushed a deeper crimson, if that was possible.

Sophia’s eyes returned to the digital floor counter above the door. Is was blinking rapidly, a chronic sign of something faulty that probably wasn’t going to get fixed for a good year after it stopped working altogether. 

The door opened with a hiss. There was indeed someone in the hallway, a man in his late forties holding a cardboard box under one arm. He turned his head, looking at her with bleary watery-blue eyes before promptly ignoring her and entering his room.

“Coast is clear, big boy. Time to bite the bullet.” She stepped into the hallway before jumping with an “Eep!” She turned on Big Mac, who was smirking slightly.

“Sorry, thought you said bite somethang else,” he said before falling in place behind her.

She could only shake her head, the love bite to her rear still burning pleasantly. “Oh, you are a bad boy.”

The two of them sniggered playfully as she led them to door with the numbers 727 printed on the door. Fetching a keycard from her bag, she swiped it across the scanner to the left of the door and hurried Big Mac in after one last scan of the hallway.

The size of her living quarters wasn’t something she had exaggerated to any degree. A small, shelved hallway opened up to a living room already filled with magazines and bits of clothing, leading to a mildly embarrassing moment where she had to clear her previous night’s clothes off the sofa. That in and of itself wasn’t so bad, except her bra and panties topped the pile. Scattered bits of electronics and other mechanical devices shoved in random corners, some of which Big Mac eyed with intrigue, but likely didn’t know anything about. In fact, random junk, from a small stack of hard drives nestled next to the couch to a half-formed hodgepodge of circuitry in the shape of a human arm hanging in a pile below the window largely outweighed how much furniture she owned.

It was barely a few seconds before she shoved the stallion onto the loveseat. He was still so much bigger than her, but as she sat down on the adjacent seat, all she could feel was anticipation and the decadent thrill. The irrational little girl inside her had hoped Big Mac would sweep her off her feet and take her to a land safe from all harm and worry. Dreams. They were as simple as that. No more, no less. In a world of shadows, steel, and raw informations floating across the superhighways—that was where the little corporate drone belonged.

Big Mac still hadn't said a word, silently letting her deal with her momentary bubble of emotion at her own pace. Ever the proper gentleman. 

‘Gentlecolt.’

Slowly she leaned in closer. Although he trembled slightly beneath her grasp, he did not pull away. She inched closer and could feel the blazing warmth of his skin.

It was different this time. The kiss was not a brief nip of affection like before. The undercurrent of desire had swelled to new peaks as emotions ran high. It was brief, almost tender, just like their first kiss shared outside, but undercut with the barest need. Unconsciously, she leaned forward. Big Mac fell back onto the arm of the loveseat, his lips still glued to her own.

She broke contact, her chest heaving for air that she didn’t know she needed. Big Mac’s eyes were wide, but what she felt was reflected on his face. Her hand had drifted lower and now rested on his strong, taut chest. Thick, rippling muscle and fur as soft as velvet coursed underneath her fingers.

It was cute the way he blushed and turned his head to stare at the loveseat's back pillow. “Are...?” he said before catching her eye and looking away again. “Are y’all sure?” Sophia couldn’t help but nod, cupping his head with both hands and going in for another kiss. She inched further up until she was straddling his thighs. He was so much bigger than her, every powerful, sinewy muscle clenching under her, yet he let her be on top and dictate the pace. His lips were still soft and malleable, just like any other human she had been with in the past.

Tentatively, she probed his lips with her tongue, silently requesting entry. He shuddered beneath her with a need not unlike her own. Hot breath exited through his nostrils, and he parted his lips. His tongue greeted her own gingerly like a horse shakily separating itself from the herd. Together they danced, her tongue snaking along his own and quickly gaining dominance. His tongue was longer and thicker than her own and contorted like a snake. This was all new territory, but she had time to puzzle it out.

Slowly she ground her hips forward into his crotch. She was still fully clothed, and his saddlebags made it more difficult than it needed to be. Still it had the intended effect and Big Mac kicked his hind legs reflexively. After a few more gyrations, his own hips started to meet her own thrusts. She stroked behind his ears and neck. One particular point hit a sweet spot and he melted under her touch. He bucked again, this time something hard and hot as a furnace colliding with her hips.

They parted, panting and out of breath again. “My room,” she hissed. The loveseat, while in the past been used for this exact purpose, wasn’t equipped for a pony. The bed on the other hand was plenty big. Big Mac nodded, his blond mane ruffled from the workout she had given it along with being pressed under her own weight. Getting up, she saw just what might be greeting her in the very near future. In response to her light fondling, his marbled pink and black shaft inched out of his sheath. She could feel the wetness clinging to her underwear along with the rivulets of moisture running down her legs.

She rushed to the hallway as she got to her feet, beckoning her mate for the night to follow. Eagerly he scrambled off the loveseat and joined her. At the end of the cramped hallway was her bedroom. Due to her tendency to pass out exhausted after a long day at work or other vigorous activities, her fair-sized bed was one of the few places in her apartment that was immaculate. Big Mac’s eyes took a moment to scan the room before returning to her.

It wasn’t much of a room. Most of it was still piled with crap, as the closet vomiting objects all over the floor attested. Several posters hung on the wall, and one near the headboard displayed a stunningly attractive woman’s face under the letters AV. Neither of them was in any particular mood to admire the new scenery.

She crawled onto the box spring, shaking her hips as she did so. There wasn’t much there worth shaking, but it had the intended effect. Before she even reached the pillows, Big Mac had his snout pressed firmly between her thighs. Whatever she had to say came out as nothing more than a content sigh. Still clothed, he couldn’t get any penetration no matter how hard he could try, but still he nuzzled her sex behind her pants. 

Her knees were shaking with the sensations coursing up and down her spine. She had collapsed with her ass raised, supported entirely on his nuzzling muzzle. “Mmmm...” she moaned pitifully. She swore she could feel him smile.

It took a moment to fiddle with the button on her pants before she yanked them down to her knees. For a sad few moments, her stallion’s affections ceased. A thump indicated he had taken the moment to remove his saddlebags and horseshoes. With a flick, her garment was removed to some corner of the room to be forgotten until tomorrow’s impending hangover woke her up.

With a creak she felt him join her on the mattress. Her own undies were marred with a large damp spot, courtesy of her increasing arousal and his ministrations. “All ah could smell since we got here was you.” Her chest fluttered in embarrassment, despite already being half naked in front of him. She had forgotten about their sense of smell. Her nethers were flooded with a fresh wave of warmth in fluid at the thought of Big Mac basking in her scent the entire time, silently wishing to himself he could just bury himself in her mound and drink her dry.

Speaking of smell, she detected his own musk permeating her cramped bedroom. A slight sheen of sweat coated his body and mane. His shaft was now dangling several inches out of its sheath and growing by the minute. The couple was dangling at the point of no return. Last chance to turn back...

“Just for the night?”

Big Mac blinked cutely, the haze of lust making him stop pawing nervously at the sheets. She’d never been with a stallion, or any other animal for that matter. ‘Strange what one random day will do to you.’ She’d bet a fair few nuyen he hadn’t been with a woman either. They barely knew each other. He’d probably be out of the city before she woke up. It was just a one night stand, but he could have her if he was interested.

His eyes were roaming over her. She had forgotten to turn on the light, but enough of Seattle’s nightlife was leaking through the curtained window to bask the room in a light blue glow. In the moonlight and the soft city radiance, his response was, “Beautiful.”

Sophia felt a growl course up her throat. “Get over here,” she said huskily. They dove at each other fiercely, lips mashing together. Big Mac had finally displayed just how forceful his powerful body could be and quickly dominated the show of strength. Sophia ended up on her back with Big Mac looming over her. Whatever shyness or gentlemanly behavior he wished to display was quickly overridden by raw, animal lust as his tongue quickly explored every corner of her mouth. She let him take the lead, basking in his affections. Her gloved hands were intertwined behind his head in a vice as if daring him to leave her precious embrace. 

Her legs slid back and forth against his barrel. There was something strangely enticing about the sensation. His powerful muscles were forged to hard labor, honest farm work, and it gave her no end of satisfaction to imagine them being used for the basest task of all. Oh, what a glorious cocktail it was. The raw warmth rolling in waves off his skin like some great cistern, that earthy musk that clung to him as dearly as she did now, that spicy fragrance emitting from the throbbing erection dangling near her navel... Everything about him screamed animal and, even though she knew for certain he was not, all she wanted was for him to fuck her raw.

With a burst of strength, she rolled Big Mac over until she was on top. They had parted mid roll and she grinned like a shark, eyes alight with mirth and arousal. Big Mac caught on quick and using his forelegs’ ample flexibility, continued the momentum until he was back on top. She couldn’t help but let loose a laugh that was joined by his deep, throaty chuckle. God, even his voice was enough to make her melt. “Yes...” she moaned softly. She brought a hand down and ensnared his mottled shaft in a tight grip. Big Mac grunted and whinnied in certainly welcome surprise. The semi-viscous fluid leaking from the head stuck pleasantly between her fingers. Smearing a glove with his precum, she started jerking off his erection. Big Mac shuddered and moaned, his rear leg stomping again.

Her breath began to hitch in her throat. Another thing she had forgotten was that horses, although smaller than the average human in most respects, were certainly bigger in one.

“Oh, dear...”

Her stallion hummed quietly before seeing where her eyes were locked. Her brief handjob had risen him to full mast, a healthy twelve to thirteen inches. He already outweighed her, but that would tear her in half! Big Mac let her crawl out from underneath him in order to examine the object of her lust. There was no possible way he could hilt that in her. Not that she wouldn’t try.

“Ummm...” He looked around bashfully. 

‘Of all the times, now you’re giving me privacy?’ she thought. “Uh...” Well, this was awkward. “...Try lying down.” He dutifully did so. As he passed her on the squeaky bed, he flicked his tail, catching her in the side. She punched him in his haunches. It felt like iron under all that corded muscle.

He must have taken a leaf out of her book, as he sashayed his hips back and forth in front of her. Her eyes never left that huge member. She could see it bob in time with his heartbeat as a dollop of precum dripped from the tip. Just watching was enough to make her moan in delight, something that elicited a particular pleasing bob from his throbbing cock.

Big Mac decided on resting his back on the pillows in order to see her at work. Little Mac loomed down towards him as if begging him to suck himself off. Peeling off her right glove, Sophia reached forward and grasped his member again, this time with nothing separating her from the pleasing heat of his skin. It twitched as soon as she made contact. The head was flared outward obscenely, almost double the girth of the shaft. Brandishing his dick, she stuck her tongue out and started at the base of the shaft. She stared at him, an unspoken dare to break eye contact. He snorted softly. Ears twitched, hips bucked, legs kicked. Everything about him bespoke volumes: he was as ready as she was.

The touch of pre on her tongue sent a fresh wave of pleasure through them both. His hips bucked forward, giving her a face-full of his bountiful testicles. She pushed him down so she could finish, every caress of her tongue collecting more and precum. It tasted little better than salt water, but the reason on his face was enough to soak her panties through in an instant. He brought his hooves to the back of her head, guiding her upward. As she reached his head, she waited, circling the tip with her tongue. Big Mac grunted in need, pained that her mouth, the object of his own desire, was so close.

Her lips grazed the flared head and she pushed forward, taking the tip down her throat. Everything tasted like hot, warm flesh. Up and down she went, making extra sure to stroke his shaft after every bob of her head. Her other hand ventured lower and cradled both hefty orbs.

“Ugh,” he grunted. “Oh, do that again...” She chuckled, her voice sending vibrations all along his shaft. Stroke, fondle, up, stroke, fondle, down. He was kicking and snorting wildly now.

She pulled his head out with a particularly loud pop. “Not something mares do that often, eh chummer?” He shook his head and tried to pull her head back down around his cock. Another dollop started to collect on the tip. She pulled away instead and he gave a disappointed nicker of protest.

“Come off it,” she jeered. Her hands were already at her waistband, pulling her already soaked panties off her womanhood.

“Can’t help it; yer jus’ too goo—” Whatever he was going to say was cut off as she stuffed her panties into his muzzle.

“It’s my turn now.” She tasted Big Mac on her fingers before inserting two between her folds. Her palm brushed against her clit with each thrust and forcing her to give a satisfied grunt everytime her little soldier buzzed at the contact. She added a third finger; she was already well lubricated enough. Big Mac was staring at her with open lust, his tongue lolling out obscenely. His own forelegs were on his erection and jerking furiously at the obscene, wanton display. One hoof held her panties to his snout, inhaling, savoring, her scent. 

Propping herself up on one hand for leverage, she thrust her hips into the air and added a fourth finger. She was more than ready to jump him right there and get fucked within in an inch of her life. But there was something she wanted to try first. Big Mac had a really long tongue.

She jerked her undies away and forced her crotch into his face. His head banged against the headboard with a loud thunk but he was far from feeling pain. Both hooves wrapped around her hips and jerked her towards him almost painfully. He had clearly watched her tart-like display carefully and discovered without much prodding where her little love button was. One lick with his rough tongue and she melted in his grasp. She bucked her hips in place but was barely able to move in his vice-like grip. His tongue sought out each little corner of her cunt and collected every droplet of her arousal. Instead of voicing her approval at his dedication to the craft, all that came out of her mouth was a long, deep moan of satisfaction and a distended, “Fuuuuuck...”

Both hands were at her breasts. She loved the feeling of rolling her nipples between her fingers. With a firm twist, a high pitched squeak added to the sensations ravishing her spine and core. She was likely to drown him at the point, yet his tongue kept clicking back and forth dutifully.

“Oh god right there!” she screamed as he flicked her g-spot. He complied and focused hard on that one delicious, toe-curling spot. She was shamelessly rocking her hips into his muzzle now, each little bit of give rammed her clit against his nose. He wasn’t slowing down. If anything, he was speeding up as he lapped at her slick walls again and again. Her own orgasm was coming like a train and by god she wasn’t going to get in the way. After one last lick, she grasped her breasts and twisted.

Every single muscle in her body convulsed. She was saying something, but whether it was encouragement for him to continue or one long, continuous scream of delight, she couldn’t discern. She was blinded by the white light that burst forth as she came so violently she swore she had squirted. She had lost all sense of self and time as her arms and legs twitched with every jerk of her hips.

Sophia wasn’t sure how long it was until she regained her breath and ceased her shakes. A pleasing thrumming coursed along her vagina and back up her spine; Big Mac was chuckling.

“Wow...” she said dreamily. Her movements were slow and sluggish as she maneuvered off his face. He took in  gasp of air as she vacated her throne, having nearly suffocated the poor dear as she came. There were worse ways to go other than death by orgasm.

He looked at her with a smile, his muzzle and chin splattered with her own excitement. Straddling his chest, she could feel his own excitement throbbing with need against her back. “You were great,” she said. She felt compelled to say more, but the afterglow refused to release its pleasant hold. Sex and sweat permeated the air. The warmth in the room was almost stifling. She wasn’t ready to quit just yet, and was certainly not cruel enough to leave him hanging in such a state.

She leaned down to kiss him once more. She tasted herself across his muzzle and every corner of his mouth. Rather than the craven, carnal desire that had consumed her before, this kiss was slower, more passionate. She even tasted a little bit of his own excitement. Parting, she panted and bore her eyes into his own, memorizing every feature. That mischievous grin, flush face, everything about him. Big Mac leaned forward and nuzzled her chest. There wasn’t much there to motorboat, but she wrapped her arms around his head as he worked her over through her shirt.

“Ah want t’ see you,” he moaned. She was pantless, but not shirtless. And for good reason.

It was one of the rare times that night she hesitated. Her having stiffened at the words, he could tell in a moment the mood had shifted towards the less amorous. He stopped lavishing affection on her pert tits, a questioning look on his moist face.

“Is... is something wrong?” 

Sophia smiled weakly. Even with his raging cock mere inches away from her own wet, willing cunt, he still played the gentleman card. “No, no... jus’...” She trailed off and sighed. ‘Bite the bullet.’ It wasn’t as if he’d be the only one to know. The paranoid part of her that screamed self preservation so many other times before was silenced by another piece that had been growing stronger where her stallion was concerned. Not love, at least not any she was familiar with, but trust. The same trust she gave Gunny and her other friends in droves. Big Mac deserved to know.

She grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it up, taking the jacket clinging to her since the metro along with it. Their frantic pace had now slowed to a crawl. Even the velvety fur nipping at her labia wasn’t invoking nearly what it had before. Here it was. This was her secret.

Big Mac’s eyes widened and he gasped as he saw her au naturel in the starlight. He brought a hoof up and traced the numerous scars across her collarbone and chest. Running across her ribs was a patch of skin that was a light blue color where she knew her synthetic lung could be seen through the skin. The brutality that marred her body wasn’t what topped the revelation.

Smooth, white plastic plated ever inch of her left arm. The interlocking plates covered almost seamlessly the black and silver metals hiding under the surface. Where the elbow would have been was a circular silver hunk of steel that noiselessly rotated back and forth as her arm moved. Printed right below the shoulder in sharp blue letters was a word they were both familiar with: YAMATETSU.

“I’m the sum of my parts.”

She wasn’t sure what compelled her to say such a thing, but as she did, Big Mac picked at the glove still donning her left hand. As it came off he was greeted by a delicate silver hand. Each digit was a little silver nub plated over black machinery and ugly plastic.

The way he cradled her hand was as if he was holding a hatchling over a den of ravenous snakes. His hard hooves slid across every groove in the metal. For a moment she wondered if he could feel her arm at all until she saw the fleshy center of his hoof.

“Can...” It wasn’t shyness that tainted his tenor. Now he seemed afraid. Afraid of how she would react. “Can you—”

“I can’t feel anything.” She rubbed the Yamatetsu logo. Whether it was to try and remove it from existence or the perpetual feeling of cold, not even she knew. “At times it feels as it my arm’s still there, but no.”

He traced a hoof up her arm. Despite not being able to feel his gentle touch, she shivered regardless. He stopped where flesh met metal, tracing the scars that looked like they fed right into the cyberarm. 

“That ain’t no accident.” She smiled darkly. Some part of her expected Big Mac to not recognize the damage, but he’d proven remarkably sharp already. Even the simplest street trash would recognize knife wounds.

“No,” she whispered. “And he’s not going to be able to do it again. Ever again.” The tone of her voice must of sent the message across that this wasn’t a topic she was ready to talk about in full.

He didn’t like it and she knew it. His irises darted back and forth, an internal battle of conscience, likely between fighting for her honor and acquiescing to her wishes. After a few brief moments, he nodded. The tension within her chest loosened enough to get her breathing back under wraps.

He opened his forelegs to invite her back into his grasp, an offering she freely accepted. He flinched slightly as her cyberarm touched his cheek as they kissed once more. Part of the reason why she wore gloves so often was her arm chilled in cooler weather. He dabbled kisses on her lips and jaw line, slowly inching his way lower. The fire that had cooled during her reveal rekindled with fresh fuel. His own erection had softened against her back, but reaching around for a few fresh strokes quickly remedied that problem. She loved the feeling of him throbbing under her grasp. Any male, in fact. It was empowering. Intoxicating even. Dabbling with girls on occasion was fun, but nothing compared to getting a good dicking.

A hiss escaped her lips as he latched onto her breasts and started suckling. ‘Everyone loves my girls,’ she chuckled to herself. He rolled his tongue around the nipple carefully, but seemed unwilling to use his teeth. She didn’t care; his tongue was heavenly enough. He quickly switched breasts and lavished its twin with a trail of kisses and suckling. It took a little work to regain their momentum, but he had her moaning again in short order. She clung to his neck as her hand pumped his stallionhood for all it was worth. She jumped a little as a smoldering piece of stallion meat kissed her sex. The animal groan that came from her lips was enough to get the juices flowing.

Her eyes bulged a little when Big Mac quickly wrapped his forelegs around her milky chest and rolled so he was once more on top.

“Let me have you.”

He peppered her again with kisses, first her lips before moving down to her breasts. She wailed in delight, tightening her grip around his neck so he wouldn’t leave. His proud stallion rested hotly against her mound.

“Let me show you.”

He was pawing and snorting now, desperate to shove her burning length into her tight sex. What a herculean effort it took to resist that urge. She wanted to be on top in order to not get hurt by his monstrous length, but she trusted him. He knew her secret, and all he cared about was showing her a little love. She lifted her hips to give him better leverage.

“Worship me, big boy.”

She grunted as his head rammed against her labia. It was still a tight fit and the oversized intruder parted her flower inch by agonizing inch. It felt wonderful and first, but now it hurt. If his length was intimidating, it was nothing compared to his girth. Her vagina was designed to push out something a lot larger than that, but the pain mixing in with the pleasure was slowly winning out.

And just like that, he was inside.

Sophia cooed as she felt his heartbeat where they were conjoined. This is what she wanted. He waited for her to adjust, slobbering her breasts as she gyrated and readjusted herself. She looked down past Mac’s now messy shock of blond mane. It didn’t look like anything at all was inside her. He had so much more love to give.

“Okay,” she whimpered in his ear. She rubbed his back encouragingly, the cold metal making him shiver in cold and pleasurable delight, sensations he was giving her with ease. He adjusted his grip on her chest and pulled out agonizingly slow so that only his flare was nestled snuggling within her needy cunt. With a measured precision, he thrust back in slowly, measuring her response. He began seesawing into her little by little. It wasn’t long before she began rocking her own hips back and forth to match his movements.

Her own excitement conjoined his own leaking stallionhood deep within. The thought made her think of both of their juices still on her lips and the marvelous eroticism of being pummeled by the biggest cock in her life. The impending sore hips were a thing of the past as she thrust back to meet Big Mac like a depraved slut.

More and more he worked her over, sliding in slowly and deeply in such a delicious cum-inducing manner. With every rock of their hips, more and more of his stallionhood entered her poor, abused pussy. It wasn’t long until they both felt him connect at her deepest and a twinge of pleasure and pain coursed through them both. He was a little over halfway inside, just short of the medial ring that kissed the outer lips of her pussy. He didn’t dare try to go any deeper than that, even though the horniness was enough to make her beg to hilt her in an instant and pump her full of his seed. His big, round orbs, so full of seed. She wondered how much he was going to pump into her as if he needed to pour his soul into her womb with every spurt. The thought was enough to trigger her second orgasm of the night. 

Sophia’s hypersensitive cunt milked him for all she was worth. She wrapped her legs around his flanks, egging him on as her cunt twitched around him. He had to be close. Her breast popped from his mouth and he lay his head on her chest. He was focused on nothing but thrusting his hips into her now, obeying the need to fill his little broodmare full of his virile load.

She hugged him tight and embraced the feeling of his soft fur brushing up against her naked body as she rode out her orgasm, It wasn’t nearly as strong as her first, but it was lasting much longer. He was so close. She could feel it now. The shaft buried deep in her core expanded with blood, straining her vaginal walls and threatening to tear her apart. He gave one more thrust, grinding viciously into her yielding rear.

The second his hot seed burst from his cock like a flood, she orgasmed a third time. No lover could even compare to the load pumping into her right now. His flare had sealed her up with an almost airtight lock. She screamed gibberish as she cradled his head protectively to her chest. With every new spurt his hips jerked forward, adding a few more pleasant tingles to an already incredible night.

After three orgasms and being literally fucked by a horse, Sophia was exhausted. Big Mac’s voluminous cumshot was enough to escape their union and leak out of her used and abused love tunnel. Their crotches were plastered messily with both of their fluids, and as Big Mac’s erection slowly softened and retreated back into its sheath, the head popped free and another fresh load dumped out onto the sheets.

His full weight collapsed onto her. He too was panting with the exertion needed to scratch that primal itch. For the next several minutes they were content with basking in the pleasant afterglow of good sex. She stroked him behind his ears in that little sweet spot she’d come to identify.

“I’d love to keep you around for later, Big Boy,” she intoned in a sing-song voice. Big Mac nipped at her breast, too tired to speak. She snuggled closer, inhaling his scent as deeply as she could. She continued to stroke his back affectionately, the smooth metal caressing slowly along his spine. As she curled up for a nap, his sweet, sexy baritone rang out before he too curled close.

“Ah’ve still got a few more hours left.”






Chapter Commentary: LINK
Editors: Softy8088, The Synn Lofsvard, TittySparkles, RainbowBob