A Match Made in the Mail Office
Post Pony Pete sighed a lonely sigh. The day was long and hot, and the fact that he was spending it in his dark, sweaty office wasn't helping things very much. He cast a depressed glance at the paperwork scattered all over the room. It seemed to just keep coming and coming. There was paper on the floor, the desk, the wardrobe, the door, the walls, and even, to Pete's horror, the ceiling. All the extra sheets made the tiny room even more unbearable and claustrophobic. And poor Pete was very claustrophobic indeed.
Pete cleared his dry, scratchy throat. His tongue felt like sandpaper. Where had Penny gone? He'd asked her to fetch him a cup of cold coffee about twenty minutes ago but as always she seemed to have dissolved into thin air. Coffee was the only thing they could drink in the place, since the water tasted like pee and the only thing that could mask the taste was a tablespoon of coffee granules. Since Pete couldn't work the machine for the life of him, he'd asked his coworker Penny to get him a cup please. Pete reckoned she was either asleep right now or watching Scooby Doo reruns. Or both. Oh well, he needed to stretch his muscles a bit anyway.
Yawning, he got up only to fall down again after sitting down for so long. Pulling himself together, Pete headed out the door to his office. He pushed at it and achieved no result.
Damn rusty door, Pete thought to himself. He whacked his hooves against the rotting wood harder and harder until finally the door flung open with a crash.
Ooops. Must've hit it too hard.
"PENNY!" He called. He hated shouting at the old mare, but she was so deaf it was next to impossible to use your indoor voice when talking to her. "I think I might've asked you to get me some coffee twenty minutes ago. Where is-"
He broke off when he noticed a certain someone in the room. He opened his mouth in surprise; they hardly ever got any customers, and this customer was something else. He was a young stallion with a shiny, ivory colored coat which gleamed in the grimy light of the mail office. On his flank shone an intricate design of a shield. He had a beautiful blue mane which accentuated his dreamy brown eyes. Pete gaped at the handsome stallion, struggling to compose himself. Finally, he managed to choke out some words.
"Who the feather are you?" Pete slapped himself internally. Stupid, stupid, stupid thing to say.
"I- I..." stammered the stallion, shocked at Pete's sudden arrival.
"He's just come to return miss-delivered letters." The old mare said, sounding bored. That was nothing new, since everything in life seemed to bore her. Except for Scooby Doo, that is.
"Oh really?" The pegasus was disappointed. Of course the handsome colt isn't here to do anything but hand in mail. "Well lemme tell you something hanso- err...I mean... young colt. We don't have enough of a budget to be giving rewards or compensation for you taking your time having to come all the way out here to return these letters! I'm really sorry." Pete's face was getting redder.
"Wait, rewards? No, I just-" the ivory colored pony started, but Pete broke him off.
"Y'know, it's not at all easy. Delivering hundreds of letters when no other ponies will help?" the stallion gave a look to the old mare. She was just sitting there, looking down. It took him a moment to realize she had fallen asleep again and was drooling all over the floor, "In fact, we could use a few more ponies in here, helping out and all." Pete looked hopefully at the pony before him, who stepped back awkwardly.
"And with the mailponies constantly quitting on us, we're stuck with nothing but complaints and undelivered letters," Pete continued solemnly. Could it be possible this pony would take on the job?
"Well, I just moved to Ponyville yesterday. My home was full of letters mailed to the wrong address, and I brought them back here. I'm not looking for any reward. I just did it because I thought it was the right thing to do. I'm Lance by the way, Lance Angelswift," the stallion -Lance- met the pegasus' stare, neither of them blinking.
"Nice to meet you Lance," Pete said eventually, "It's good of you to care, but it seems these letters aren't ever getting delivered. The last mailpony quit weeks ago and no one else will take the damn job!"
"I can't imagine why?" The old mare said quietly, rolling her eyes, "It's boring here and the WiFi is terrible."
There was a long pause, before Lance spoke up.
"Maybe I could take the job." Pete couldn't believe his ears.
"You serious?!"
"Yeah!" Lance stepped up to the counter. "Look, I need a job and you clearly need a mailpony." The pegasus looked Lance up and down. He really was beautiful. No one could possibly be that perfect.
"What's wrong with you?" The pegasus asked suspiciously, then groaned at his own stupidity.
"Excuse me?" Lance replied, offended.
"Err.... you see..." stammered Pete, trying to fix what he'd just said, "Every mailpony over the years has had something wrong with them. That derpy mare, and also that near sighted foal. What's your problem?"
"Nothing. I'm exactly what you see."
The pegasus huffed, breathing a sigh of relief. Lance hadn't seemed too upset... right? He flew over to the office door and opened it.
"Get in here. Let's talk."
Lance was wearing his new blue mailpony jacket along with a small blue hat.
He looks so cute in this, though Pete as he explained the task at hand. Lance had been kind enough to volunteer to knock on the doors of the recipients of the undelivered letters and apologize on behalf of the mail service.
"Thank you so much for agreeing to this," he said, "The company is losing money fast and we need to get the money up. I hate this place, but I ain't letting it go under."
"If you hate this place, why don't you quit?" Lance asked.
Are you kidding me?" Pete turned and pointed at the cutie mark on his flank. It was an envelope with a pair of legs. "With a cutie mark like this and my parents calling me 'Post Pony Pete', how could I be ANYTHING ELSE?!"
"I'm sorry," Lance said, "I'll just call you Pete if you like."
Pete blushed.
"Yeah, that would be nice."
The two ponies stared at each other for a while before Lance cleared his throat.
"I'd best be off then."
"Good luck!" Pete called as Lance headed out the door.
"This is stupid! Stupid, stupid, STUPID!" Pete yelled at his grimy reflection in the mirror of his tiny, rundown shack. The place was even darker than his office, with a minuscule window which was so dirty it was impossible to clean. A battered mattress lay in the corner and apart from a stool with a broken leg. the mirror and a still grandfather clock, the room was virtually empty. A picture-frame holding a photo of Pete's long deceased mother held its pride of place among the peeling wallpaper.
"You can't just crush on a random pony that walked into your office! WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?!" the Pete in the mirror gazed guiltily back at him, "You don't know him! He could be a serial killer for all you know. And then you just give him a job?! Without an interview or anything?!"
"You needed workers desperately anyway, what else could've you done?" Mirror-Pete pointed out.
"Yes, but...but...but..." Pete stammered, though it was no use. He had to face it. He had undeniably, unquestionably fallen for that stallion...Lance Angelswift. Pete sighed.
"Fine. Maybe I 'like' that guy just a little, but that's it. There is no way, no how, we'll ever get together. I don't even know the stallion for Celestia's sake! It's just a crush, it'll go away over time."
Oh.
But poor Post Pony Pete didn't know how wrong he was...