> We'll Go Down Together > by Petrichord > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > If we go down > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It turned out that a beach could be fun without a beach ball. Not what Pinkie would have expected; she would have thought it mandatory a few months ago. The picnic basket seemed mandatory, too. And the shovels and pails, the cheap plastic snorkels, even the flippers and water wings. It was all part of the plan, and - even if Pinkie wasn’t much one for plans, per se - parties required planning, and she was always one for parties. Parties were a big deal, and certainly never a spontaneous thing. And yet...this trip to the beach was spontaneous. It wasn’t expected, it wasn’t a preplanned gala,  it wasn’t a grand celebration expertly calibrated for maximum fun. But it felt like a party, even if it was anything but. Sand stuck to her hooves as she darted across the beach. It seemed endless, a strip of tan that embraced ocean and horizon alike in an infinite hug, a white and blue singularity blemished only with a bright dab of pink. Part of her wanted to run and run, see just how far the beach could take her, far beyond where the beach umbrellas and tofu-dog stands and discarded bottles of suntan lotion should have been. But it seemed pointless to run. There wouldn’t be anything new to see, not for a mile at least, and probably not for a while besides that. And there wasn’t anywhere to go but here, this little pocket paradise. Alone. “Pinkie!” Well, almost alone. “Come on, Shiny!” Pinkie shouted, the giddy squeal of her voice muffled slightly by the ocean breeze. “Don’t you want to find out how warm the water is?” “Yeah!” he yelled back, an ear-to-ear grin almost successfully drawing attention away from his dorky blue swimsuit. Unnecessary, of course, or at any rate it should have been unnecessary. Who was going to get them in trouble, the fun police? Not that there were any fun police, of course. Or anypony else, for the matter. For a second or two, Pinkie forgot about the pocket paradise she and Shining Armor had thrown themselves into, forgot about everything but the conspicuous absence of anypony else- -And then Shining Armor barreled past her, kicking up a spray of sand as he went, laughing an unpracticed and giddy laugh. The thoughts drifted out of Pinkie as quickly as they had blustered in, and Pinkie laughed with him as she turned back towards the blue horizon and raced him to the ocean. Against a different filly, Shiny might have won. He was strong, of course; beneath his coat was nothing but muscle, courtesy of the military lifestyle, and it wasn’t hard to guess that he treated his body like a proverbial temple. But Pinkie was fast; she knew this, and he knew this, and Pinkie suspected that part of him wanted her to win anyway. So she did. Kicking up sand in her wake, she overtook him - one pace, two, three, and then the sand beneath her hooves gave way to the ocean. Her giggle gave way to a shriek of surprise, then a squeal of delight as she leapt as far into the waves as she could. Water broke her eighteen inch free-fall: only a few notches above ice-cold, despite the high sun and higher temperature, and her legs flailed as she pushed her head above the surface again. Pinkie turned around. There Shiny was, inches away from the water, gasping for breath between bouts of laughter. Anypony else, and Pinkie might have suspected that they were laughing at her: her doubtlessly waterlogged mane, her flailing limbs, her simple smile. But Shiny hadn’t taken her to this beach to laugh at her - he had taken her so they could swim like a couple of klutzy loons, giggling and snorting and splashing about water, a pair of overgrown children with no future to worry about and no reason to behave themselves. “Come on in!” Pinkie chirped, waving a hoof at him. “The water’s really, really cold!” “Aren’t you supposed to tell me the water’s warm?” Shiny smirked, though not unkindly. “It’s warmer than it could be!” Pinkie replied. “Warmer than a blizzard outside the crystal empire?” “Warmer than a midnight stroll through a desert!” “Warmer than a holiday in Yakyakistan?” “Warmer than Queen Chrysalis’ heart!” “Okay, you convinced me.” Shiny grinned, then whooped and charged into the ocean. His childish whoop turned into a yelp of surprise as the water washed up over his fetlocks, but it didn’t stop him from plunging forward until only his neck and head remained above the surface. “See? Told you!” Pinkie giggled. “Though a Yakyakistan holiday miiiiight have been cutting it a little close.” “Oh, you little sneak!” Shiny laughed, before his foreleg swung just under the water’s surface. A heady splash of water caught Pinkie right in the face, and she sputtered and spat out water before returning fire with an impish grin. And so began the greatest water war in Equestrian history. No ponies had ever made more eddies in such a short period of time, for the ocean waves simply couldn’t contain the number and size of the splashes that Pinkie Pie and Shining Armor made. Two sets of hooves lashed out unceasingly against the water’s surface, kicking a saline spray to the breeze as Pinkie and Shiny doused each other with foamy vengeance. Nothing was spared; every eyelash, every lock of mane and patch of fuzzy coat was waterlogged before they were halfway done, and it wasn’t until she was far beyond the point of utterly drenched that Pinkie realized Shiny had stopped splashing back and was bobbling idly in the waves, half-lidded gaze hung limply towards the sapphire sky. Pinkie couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him this relaxed. Come to think of it, she couldn’t remember the last time she had felt relaxed quite like this, or the last time she had gone somewhere to relax, or - for that matter - what time it was anymore. She couldn’t remember how many hours had passed since she had gotten on the train that morning, or when the cab Shiny had sent picked her up, or even how many bags she had brought with her. Not that any of it mattered now, though. She was here to have fun, and so far it felt like she had thoroughly succeeded. With any luck... Pinkie sighed and relaxed in a spread-eagle float on the water’s surface. It turned out that a water fight could be fun without water balloons or super soakers. Not what pinkie would have expected, but even if it wasn’t a party, it certainly felt like it. > They'll say you could do anything > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Aren’t you worried about getting burned, Pinkie?” Shining Armor and Pinkie Pie’s shadows cut dark trenches into fields of brambles and prairie grass, and dirt-road dust stuck to their ankles like faded glitter. Pinkie paused on their walk from the beach to brush a salt-addled clump of tacky mane out of her eyes, and giggled as Shining Armor fixed her with a concerned stare. “Nope!” Pinkie beamed. “Not anymore!” “...Anymore?” Shining Armor probed, quirking an eyebrow. “Yep! It used to happen, like, all the time when I was a little filly. There was the whole growing-up-on-a-rock-farm thing, and the working-all-day-on-a-rock-farm thing, and the sunscreen-is-a-frivolous-luxury-and-it’s-best-if-we-learned-to-endure-as-our-ancestors-did thing! So Limestone and Maud and Marble and I used to get burns, like, alllllll the time. We used to even talk about it!” Pinkie stopped to poke at her body; a flank here, the back of her neck there, before swiping a hoof down one entire side of her body, as if she was an impressionist painter. There wasn’t a single prod or gesture that came without explanation: “And then there was the time that limestone and I were trying to push a biiiiiig rock away from Holder’s Boulder, and it almost shaded both of us - but not quite! Limestone was so mad for, like, a week and a half. I don’t ever think I’ve seen her that mad! Except for maybe half a dozen times or so.” “Uh huh.” “And there was that time when it was Maud’s birthday, but dad wanted us to get some furrows dug on the ground to “put our surface minerals to good use” for a farming thing that...I don’t think it went anywhere, but we spent half a day pulling things north to south. And then after lunch, we did more from south to north! So we got the same side burned twice, and I said that we all looked like we painted half of ourselves a different color, and Maud just made the silliest face, like…” Pinkie put on the sternest, dreariest face she could muster, which was approximately one hundred times more expressive than maud appeared on most days. Her acting skills ensured that she was able to maintain the expression for roughly 1.2 seconds, before she burst out into a fit of giggles. “And-and it was the funniest thing ever! And Limestone got so mad, like…” Pinkie’s imitation of an angry face was approximately five hundred times more cheerful than limestone’s typical countenance. This time, she managed to hold her angry face for 1.6 seconds before cracking up again. “I see.” Shining Armor replied. “You should have seen it! It was the funniest funniest thing ever!” Pinkie beamed. “And then there was that time i was trying to find ground-level mineral deposits, so i kept digging holes, but my tushie kept sticking out every time-” Pinkie reached behind her and patted her rump for emphasis. “So I got such a big burn from that! I looked like I had a little candle lighting up my patootie…” Pinkie looked back at Shining Armor, and saw that the neutral, slightly bemused glimmer had given way to an undeniable hunger. “Yes?” Shining Armor murmured. “You were saying?” “...and it made sitting down a little painful for almost a week.” Pinkie concluded. She wasn’t shocked to see the hungry glint in Shining Armor’s eyes disappear, wasn’t surprised to see his brow furrow in mild disappointment. It didn’t exactly make her heart soar, though. “Ah.” Shining Armor paused. “You know, if you forget the sunscreen, I can bring some for you next time.” “Okay!” Pinkie replied, mustering up a cheerful smile. “And if you need help putting it on, you know that I can help you, right?” “Absolutely-tootly!” Pinkie nodded her head. “Next time we go to the beach, right?” “Of course.” Shining Armor grinned at her. Pinkie turned back to the road and kept walking. After a couple of moments, the crunch of grit beneath her hooves was echoed by Shining Armor, and the two of them took to the meandering path in silence. One minute passed. Two. Three. “...Shiny?” Pinkie Pie asked. “Hmm?” “Why do ponies always think of the beach when they want to go on vacation?” Shining didn’t respond for a second or two. Two monarch butterflies flitted out of a thicket to Pinkie’s right, dancing in an irregular waltz towards the sapphire sky. “I think it’s because the ocean never ends,” he finally replied. “Huh?” “You go on vacation to relax, right? It’s a chance to get away from work, family, that sort of thing. But, like, if you went somewhere like Manehattan or Las Pegasus, the only way to make it relaxing would be to schedule in all kinds of activities. Sightseeing, dining...shopping, maybe.” Shining Armor kicked an errant pebble into the weeds, where it collided with a dandelion and sent a small puff of white into the air. “And then the whole vacation’s just bouncing from activity to activity, like running through a checklist.” Pinkie shivered as a stray breeze lifted the dandelion seeds into the sky. Shining Armor gave no indication of noticing the shiver or the seeds, save for a faint crack in his voice. “You might as well just be at home.” Prairie grass gave way to fresh sod. The path grew tidier, as if well maintained, and Pinkie saw their trail wind up towards a house on a hill. “But what about nature walks, Shiny?” “There’s still a path to follow. Start at A, get to B, go home. The beach doesn’t have that. You can spend an hour, five hours, a day. It all feels the same. Time doesn’t exist there, you know? So there isn’t anything you have to do. There isn’t any responsibility. Nothing to take care of. Just...do whatever you feel like, forever. No responsibilities, no consequences...you know what I’m talking about, right?” Shining Armor turned to Pinkie and flashed her a wry smile. Pinkie paused for a moment, then nodded. She kept the smile on her face as the house drew closer, step by step, and hoped that Shining Armor didn’t notice the plastic veneer that had crept into her dimples. The sun continued its inexorable slide across the sky, baking the two of them as surely as it roasted the prairie grass behind them. “...Shiny?” she finally probed as the dirt gave way to smooth cobblestone, a slicker path towards the house that loomed in front of them. “Aren’t you worried about getting burned?” Shining Armor chuckled. “Who, me? Nah. I’m wearing plenty of sunscreen. Besides - we’re here.” > They'll say that I was clever > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Pinkie’s jaw dropped. Shining Armor caught the expression on her face, subconsciously reflecting it with a wry smile. “I hope it’s good enough, then?” Pinkie couldn’t decide what she wanted to rub her hooves over first, but she needed to make sure it was real, that her eyes weren’t tricking her. So she settled for the polished countertop in the kitchen area; there was no way that it could have been as smooth and cool to the touch as it looked. It was. “Shiny, this is granite!” Pinkie gasped as she flitted from the counter to drawers crammed full of silverware to a window so big and a view so picturesque that it felt like Pinkie was looking at a magnificent painting of a landscape, instead of the real deal. “Of course it is! You’d expect anything less from a kitchenette?” Shining Armor followed her footsteps, gait locked evenly on her skittering hoofsteps as if tracking an excitable quarry. “That’s oak on the cabinets, too. It should be fully stocked, in case we wanted to throw a party.” “I...Okay!” Pinkie chirped, praying that Shining Armor was as oblivious as he often seemed. “I mean, I guess I could still do some baking for that, right? Everypony likes home-baked goods at parties!” “I can’t really argue with that.” The chuckle that followed was devoid of any actual mirth, as if it was an obligation that he wanted to get out of the way as fast as possible. “We should probably clean up a bit, you know. Don’t want our manes to get all tacky from the saltwater.” “Of course not! Right! I’ll go...I’ll go do that first. Um.” “Second door on the left.” Shining Armor pointed to a hallway leading towards the sea. “Take your time. Bedroom’s the third door to the left, in case you wanted to take a nap or something. You’re probably exhausted from the trip to the ocean, right?” Pinkie nodded, humming a nervous ditty as she ambled down the hallway. “Take your time,” of course, meant “hurry up.” The bit after that, well… It was a nice enough bathroom. Pinkie made a mental note to take a real bath the next time she was here, with bubbles and rubber ducks and all the other bath time necessities. Here, it was more mechanical than anything: Soap, shampoo, rinse, done. Step out of the shower, towel body, towel mane, hang up the towel on the door hook for later, done. Bracing herself a little, Pinkie opened the door. There was Shining Armor, just as she expected. Big grin on his face. Big, toned muscles barely hidden beneath his coat. Big- Ugh. Shining Armor stepped aside, and Pinkie made her way to the bedroom. It was just to relax. That’s all they were really doing: relaxing. Getting away from everything else, the two of them, after a long day of playing by the ocean and basking in the beautiful weather and going on a breathtaking walk. Spending a day at the beach was supposed to be tiring, and she was supposed to be tired. And there wouldn’t be anything wrong with relaxing, right? Pinkie didn’t really pay attention to the bedroom, except for the bed. It looked comfy enough, the sort of thing she could spread herself out on and relax and think about anything and everything else. Maybe she’d even enjoy sleeping on it tonight. Maybe. **************************************** Pinkie stood on the balcony, looking at the sunset and wishing that she had a pipe. Not that she actually wanted to smoke one. That would taste gross, and also make her lungs look like wrinkly prunes and probably kill her. But it seemed like the sort of thing that she should be holding onto, so she could look like one of those characters from a really thoughtful novel and stuff. There wasn’t really anything to eat or drink that she shouldn’t use later to prepare for a party, anyway. And if juice and dessert were off-limits, that kind of left milk and water, and… And she was a bit done with white for a while, honestly. Pinkie tried to sip her glass of water like a thoughtful pony. It wasn’t the same. But at least she could think thoughtful thoughts if she wanted to, and maybe that’d be similar. Pinkie wished her mind would go to different places. They weren’t doing much good, sticking around the house like this. “Or were they?” Pinkie muttered to herself, taking another sip. I mean, it wasn’t like they were bad thoughts, right? It wasn’t like anypony was doing anything bad, not really. She got to be treated like a princess, and that was a good thing. Shiny got to relax, and that was a good thing. Princess Cadance didn’t need to know about that. That’d just make things not-good, and things were already good enough for her, right? She was happy enough. She had to be happy enough. She was a princess. Pinkie only got to be a princess some of the time, but she could be okay with that. And if Shiny wanted… It wasn’t like what he wanted was bad. It wasn’t like anything was bad. He was happy, and she was happy, and everypony was happy, right? Pinkie peered over the balcony and gasped. The sunset hit that one moment of perfection, the bit where the sun caught the edge of the horizon just so and the sky flushed with everything from the richest of reds to the softness of pink and purple, the imminently indigo nightfall casting the water by the sun in a golden aureole. Artists would pay dearly to see this sublime moment. Writers would empty their wallets if their savings could let them replicate the transcendental moment. But Pinkie wasn’t an artist, wasn’t a writer. She was just… Just herself. Just the pony Shining Armor wanted her to be. Just the secret nopony else needed to know about. And that was fine. These were the moments that would stay with her forever. They were the happiest moments she’d had in years. And that was a good thing. Everypony deserved to be happy. Everything wasn't fine.