Thanks For The Gum
I was keeping an eye on the road when Blast Powder startled me. Fuck, it was the middle of the night and I was on watch, and this was the fifth time in a row he he just pops up behind me. So what if he's my relief? Guy should know better than to sneak up on a pony with a rifle on his saddle.
He sits down next to me and digs under his armor plate before pulling out a stick of gum. He lightly dropped it in front me before letting out a yawn. “Morning,” he said.
“It's night time,” I corrected him. I always corrected him on something inconsequential, even if it didn't matter much in the big picture. It was just my way of saying “I'm good, man. How are you?”
He taps a watch, one I remember he grabbed out of that haul we made a week ago. The lens was cracked but the thing was working and clearly read one o'clock. He gave me a shit-eating grin and got himself some gum as did I.
Blast Powder was smarter than most of us. By that I mean he bothered to read into stuff and look at other stuff with a different perspective. That's nowhere in our job description, which when you're raiding, you don't need a lot of smarts to do your job. Just had to know how to point your gun away from your crew. But Blast added spice to that formula with his own two bits of wisdom, like telling the guys that you're actually more accurate when you're not spamming your shots. Then we'd find something like a terminal with a password lock and look to him for help, and his response would be “just smash it.” Like I said, not a lot of smarts needed for our job.
I chewed my gum absentmindedly just like how I was now absentmindedly watching the road ahead of us. “So what are you doing here?” I asked. “We still got another ten minutes before you take over.” Truthfully I wanted to be relieved now and get some shut eye, but hey he gave me gum. Can't just leave without saying a word, that's just rude.
“I'm bored.”
I looked at him as he blew a bubble. “Sounds like a big problem. What's your plan?”
He rolled onto his back and stretched, looking up to the clouds. “Talking your ear off until you fall asleep.”
I nodded, looking back to the road I wasn't watching as I blew my own bubble. “Sounds like a plan.”
“So how was your day?” he asked.
How was my day, chapter one. I woke up with a sore back, some asshole took some of my dash when I wasn't looking, two guys got into a fight over some caps and gave each other concussions—one of them being the guy who was supposed to be here instead of me. What else… oh, the beer was lukewarm today. “It was okay,” I responded.
He looked at me with the kind of look you give to a guy when you know he’s bullshitting you. “Nothing else?”
“Nothing else.”
He rolled back onto his stomach. “Nothing else involving a certain mare by the name of Lit Fuse?”
My cheeks immediately flushed with embarrassment. Of course, of course he was gonna be an asshole and bring her up. That crazy bitch in our crew that loved to run into fights covered in dynamite. The one with a grey coat that contrasted with her blue mane that would light up in the daylight. The mare that had those brown eyes that lit up like a big explosion when she was excited, kind of like her smile when she was happy or being funny. She was the kind of mare who wore her mane on one side and kept it short, because it was smart and fucking cool to look at. Who, even with all those scrapes on her and all the grime, still shone like the brightest gem in all of Equestria. Who had that damn fine slim figure and that flank that made you wanna--
Blast clapped his hooves in front of my face. “Equestria calling for a mister 'I drool a lot,' requesting to keep it tucked and folded for a second.”
I just noticed there was a drop of saliva that fell out of the corner of my mouth. That was fucked up even for me. I shook my head and shot him a glare. “What about her?”
He playfully jabbed my shoulder. “Come on, don't tell me you forgot what happened today. You were drinking your beer, she came in and asked you for some.”
I remembered sitting there looking up at that goddess for what felt like an eternity of blissful indulgence, just before she snapped me out of my little stupor and said something about me being deaf, or dumb, or both. Then I babbled something dumb and offered her a sip, looking on in hope that she would give me praise, like a puppy starved for attention. She took a swig, said “cool,” and walked away.
I sighed. “It was nothing man, just… I was busy when she came up.”
“Busy drinking beer?” He let out a small laugh before patting me on the back. “Admit it man, you're so gaga over her that you can barely function when she's around.” I would have smacked him if he wasn't right. “So the question is what's keeping you from making a move?”
What could I tell him? That the knot in my stomach would threaten to make me puke if I said anything, or how about the jumble of words that would just spill out of my mouth if I even tried to speak with her? No, it would have to be me measuring up to what she must want. I'd have to be a muscle bound pile driver with a hammer for a leg and eyes full of murder for her to fall gently into my hooves. I'd have to be the damn super casanova of the whole Wasteland with a big dick. Not me, with my scrawny legs that a radroach could snap in half, or the pitiful thing hanging between them that she'd probably just laugh at. Nah, I'm just the guy who's barking up the wrong tree, trying to get a mare way out of his league.
I laid my head down as I finally gave Blast a response. “Because man, she'd just say no.”
Blast looked down at me. “What makes you think she'd say no?”
I shrugged and just gestured to myself, to which he let out a 'pfft.'
“Come on man,” he said, lifting my head up. “You're telling me you won't try to take a chance with this chick just because of how you look?”
I looked back down at myself, reflecting on what he said. Soon enough I had the answer. “I'm afraid she's not gonna like what I have to offer.”
Now he got up, dragging me up with him and looked me dead in the eye. “I'm gonna blow your mind with a big revelation. Our life expectancy in this kind of work is pretty damn slim. You know it, I know it, we all know it. Tomorrow we could all probably be dead by an ambush gone bad or some asshole getting a lucky shot or whatever. So ask yourself this: What are you gonna regret more? Getting killed or never being able to tell this mare 'I love you?'”
Blast was smarter than most of us. Sweet Celestia, he always had to show it off. What made it worse here was that he was right again. “You get that from a book?”
He shrugged. “I might have paraphrased some things.”
We smiled. “Well, the ten minutes are up. I’m heading back to bed. Talk to you tomorrow after I talked to her.” He told me to have a good night as I walked back to my sleeping bag. “And thanks for the gum.”