Big Mac plans the perfect proposal to Fluttershy, but nothing goes quite as he planned
The beginning of a series which will cover the lives of the Mane Six for over ten years. After dating for two years, Big Macintosh finally decides it's time to tie the knot with the mare of his dreams, and he'll accept nothing short of perfection for his proposal. From a gourmet Canterlot dinner to a romantic night at the palace, Mac has every last detail planned. What could possibly go wrong? Cover art by CandyandBiffle, check out her other work: http://candyandbiffle.deviantart.com/
The glow of a summer evening bloomed before Fluttershy’s eyes as her bird choir struck up an effortless melody and the sweet sigh of a breeze drifted across the highest hill of Sweet Apple Acres. Fluttershy inhaled the scent of ripened apples that danced on the wind and let her jade eyes soak in the twilit scene before she turned them to the crimson stallion who sat beside her. She felt her cheeks flush as his apple green eyes gazed into hers; in them she could see all of her own contentment and sincerity. She peered deeper and also saw the uncertainty and fears which for so long had kept them from one another, and though these trepidations remained in him just as they did in her own heart, they were quelled by a trust that had been built over two years of shared joys and tears. At times, she still felt the earth drop from beneath her hooves when she allowed herself to think about how much she truly cared for him and how scary it was to give so much of her heart to somepony else. She now realized, however, that even as she fell deeper in love each day, they were falling together, hooves clasped and hearts beating as one.
The songbirds reached their crescendo just as the last rays of sunlight kissed the horizon, and Big Macintosh took her hoof in his. “Fluttershy, ya know Ah love ya more than anythin’ else in Equestria. Now Ah’ve never been a stallion of many words, and Ah doubt there’s fancy phrases enough ta say how Ah feel ‘bout ya anyhow.” He placed a gentle kiss on her hoof before continuing, “Ah been thinkin’ lots ‘bout the future, and no matter how Ah look at it, no matter what might happen, Ah know Ah’ll want ya there no matter what.” Fluttershy felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest with its frantic palpitations; she knew that this was the moment, the moment for which she’d prayed for two years. “Fluttershy, will you—”
“Bake cupcakes with me?!” In an instant Big Macintosh had been replaced with Pinkie Pie, who now violently shook the hoof which had only seconds ago been entwined with her coltfriend’s. “Ooooh, we should make them with candy corn!” Pinkie exclaimed as her mane went from its usual magenta to bright yellow. Fluttershy glanced at the now day lit but inexplicably purple sky to see that it was raining tri-colored treats.
“I say, why use candy corn when you could bake them with cucumbers!” a nearby pie in a monocle and top hat exclaimed before he and Pinkie broke into a show-stopping musical number. The hilltop was flooding with candy corn at an alarming rate and gourds were hopping frantically up and down on Fluttershy’s cowering frame; her melodic birds’ song changed to a metallic clang that beat itself against her ears and no matter what she did she could not make it stop—!
“Oh my goodness!” Fluttershy shouted as loudly as her meek voice would permit. It took her a moment to realize that she was in fact in her bed, and the horrible ringing sound was simply her alarm clock. She let out a long breath that she had not realized she had been holding in and allowed her panicked muscles to relax. “Just a dream,” she muttered to herself, and while she was greatly relieved to find she was no longer drowning in sweets, she could not stop the small pang of disappointment that crept into her heart. It had been so perfect….
Fluttershy roused herself from bed, but her thoughts remained heavy as she went about her morning chores. It wasn’t as though she wasn’t perfectly happy with her relationship with Big Macintosh; in fact, the last two years had been the happiest of her life. That was the problem. She was so incandescently happy, so hopelessly in love with him, that she couldn’t help but glance longingly at the flowing white gowns that adorned Rarity’s boutique windows or linger over the freshly bloomed flowers in the park that would make just the most wonderful bouquet. She knew with all her heart that Mac loved her and understood her better than anypony else in all of Equestria. One of the reasons they worked so well together was that he could tell her thoughts and feelings simply by looking into her eyes, and thank goodness because Fluttershy hated to bother anypony with her own problems.
“But Angel, how can I tell him what it is I really want?” The pegasus crumpled to the floor hopelessly, fat tears beginning to swell in her eyes. “I would hate for him to think I’m unhappy, or that I wouldn’t want to be with him if he didn’t want to get married.” Angel rested a consoling white paw on her knee. “I just know I’ll love him forever. I want him to be my family,” Angel glanced up sharply and gave her a look of reproach. “Oh, I’m sorry Angel! Of course you know you’re already my family,” she recovered, not meaning to hurt her little bunny’s feelings. He seemed pacified as he began nibbling on his morning lettuce, and Fluttershy knew he was only letting her off the hook because she was so upset.
It was true—she had all the love and support of her best friends and her animals, and in that regard she was already blessed with a sort of family. She couldn’t help but want something more though; she wanted gentle whispers in the night and summers at the shore and a promise of forever.
Her gentle hoof traced a gilded frame atop the hearth; she had only been a filly when it was taken, and the photographer had managed to catch a rare smile from her as she laughed with her father, who stood proudly beside Fluttershy with a hoof around her mother. Though Fluttershy was almost a precise replica of her mother Posey, her temperament was far more like her father’s, a soft-spoken and intellectual royal blue peagsus named Lancer. Like all pegasus foals, she had left home as soon as she was old enough to attend flight school, and after discovering her special talent and the wonders of the earth, she could never bring herself to move back into her parents’ Cloudsdale home. All the grandeur of the cloud mansion had always felt cold and imposing when she was a filly, and she much preferred her modest but cozy cottage. All the same, lately as she lay in bed at night and listened to the soft breathing of her animals, she could not help but feel something was missing…
“Consarnit,” Macintosh muttered to himself, trying for the fifth time to fashion the green silk tie around his collar. Though he loved being an earth pony and the special bond he had with plants, there were some moments when he thought he might not mind being a unicorn. A low chuckle came from behind him.
“Need a hoof?” Applejack asked, quickly forming a neat knot with all the skill of a practiced lasso champion and tucking the tie into his brown jacket. “Can’t have ya runnin’ ‘round Canterlot lookin’ like a right mess, can we now?”
“Nnope,” Big Mac replied, flattening his orange mane. He checked for what must have been the second time in the last minute to make sure the small velvet box was still securely in his left pocket. AJ eyed his movement warily before saying,
“Mac, Ah know y’all want this ta be perfect an’ all, but don’t ya think this might be, uh, overdoin’ it just a tad?” Big Macintosh gave his sister a look of slight confusion which he did not have to voice for her to understand. “Look sugarcube, Ah just think y’all might have a better time if ya did somethin’ simpler. Yer an easygoin’ farm stallion, and Fluttershy hates being ‘round tons o’ ponies she don’t know.” A trickle of doubt crept into Mac’s heart; had he been so wrapped up in planning his proposal that he had not considered if she would like it?
‘No,’ he thought stubbornly, ‘she deserves the very best, an’ Ah’ll give her no less.’ Applejack lowered her head, recognizing the determination on his face and knowing it was a lost cause.
“If ya insist, Ah suppose t’ain’t nothin’ Ah can do ‘bout it. Good luck, big brother.” She wrapped a hoof briefly around his withers and trotted upstairs, leaving him to give himself one final once-over in the hall mirror before setting out towards Fluttershy’s cottage. On a whim he plucked a peony from the garden and trotted away with it in his mouth, knowing that she loved the silky petals of these particular flowers.
Taking deep breaths to soothe his frazzled nerves, Mac ran over the plan in his head yet again. They were to take the 6 o’clock train to Canterlot and have dinner at The Gilded Gelding, the fanciest (and most expensive) restaurant in the city. He had had to reserve their table six months before, but it would be worth it. Then, they would ride to the very top of the Shears Tower, the tallest building in Equestria; he would get down on one knee and—
“He’s here darling!” A ringing voice disrupted his thoughts and he realized that he had reached the front door of the cottage. He knocked once before the door was thrown open to reveal Rarity, who beamed up at him. “Oh my stars, don’t you look handsome Big Macintosh!” She nodded approvingly as she looked over his outfit, “brown is definitely the new black.” Mac hadn’t the slightest idea what she meant, but accepted the compliment with a nod of his large head before following her into the cottage.
Rarity called up the stairs again, and the next moment Fluttershy appeared; she was dressed in an effortless coral and tangerine gown that shimmered like dew in the evening light. Her mane was half pulled up into a loose, elegant twist at the nape of her neck and several tendrils of hair draped themselves in curls down her withers. As she descended the steps, Mac realized that the intricate swirls of orange on her dress formed the wings of a butterfly on either side of her, making her seem as though she were floating rather than walking down to him. He was not a stallion of many words anyhow, but at that moment he was struck speechless. Thankfully, Rarity more than made up for his sudden muteness.
“Smashing! Just positively gorgeous, you look like a brilliant sunset,” the white unicorn gushed, admiring her own handiwork. Fluttershy gave him a small smile and Macintosh felt his heart dissolve into bliss; the dress was truly spectacular, but what made it beautiful was the pony wearing it. He offered her the flower in his mouth, which Rarity snatched and arranged in Fluttershy’s mane; the pink flower was just a shade paler than her hair and it rested there perfectly, appearing as though it had simply sprouted from her head along with the curls in which it was nestled. “Perfect,” Rarity declared, shooing them out the door. “Now go on, dears, and have a magical evening!” She winked knowingly at Big Mac, who felt a stab of panic in his stomach. Did she know what he was planning? Had she told Fluttershy? He had so wanted everything to be a surprise. A glance at his marefriend’s innocent, tranquil expression calmed him, and he assured himself that Rarity was well-versed in both romance and attention to detail, and as such she was bound to notice that he was up to something.
Their trot through Ponyville to the train station was a pleasant one, as many of their friends and acquaintances were still out enjoying the balmy early summer’s eve and paused for a quick greeting or compliment on the couple’s attire. After they had first started dating it had taken months for Fluttershy to become accustomed to being out in public as a couple, and only after careful reassurance from Mac had she accepted that nopony else was staring at them as she felt they were, nor did anypony judge them for being together. “Jus’ look at Spike an’ Rarity,” he had told her. “They’re not even the same species an’ there ain’t nopony who gives a hoot that they’re tagether.”
The couple reached the train station at last and Mac withdrew the two tickets he had purchased earlier that day. When they reached the appropriate platform, however, they found it void of both the train and fellow travelers. Mac peered up at the large clock, the face of which read 5:49. ‘We are a little early,’ he thought, but it was still strange that no other passengers were waiting on the platform. As the minute hand of the clock jumped closer to the hour mark, he became more and more anxious; their dinner reservations were for 7:30, and the train took nearly an hour to get to the city. At five past six, he approached the ticketing window, knocking more heavily than he might have done under other circumstances. After what felt like hours the ticket pony appeared.
“And how may I help you, youngin?” He was an elderly stallion with a faded purple coat and a thinning grey mane.
“Howdy, sir, Ah was just hopin’ to inquire after the 6 o’clock train ta Canterlot?”
“Beg pardon, son? You’ll have to speak up for these old ears.”
“The 6 o’clock train ta Canterlot. Is it comin’ soon?” Mac asked again, raising his voice several notches.
“What’s that? You need a loon?”
“No,” Mac replied, speaking more loudly and slowly, “Ah was askin’ ‘bout the 6 o’clock train ta Canterlot.”
“There’s grain in your pot? Might as well eat it, then!”
“THE 6 O’CLOCK TRAIN TA CANTERLOT!” Mac bellowed back at the top of his voice.
“No need to shout, youngin. There’s no train to Canterlot at 6 tonight.” The old stallion said, lighting his pipe and puffing away calmly, completely unaware of the panic that was slowly building in Mac’s stomach.
“But Ah bought tickets for the train to Canterlot at 6 o’clock tonight,” he held the tickets out for the stallion to see. The stallion took them and examined them briefly under a thick eyeglass before pushing them back across the counter to Big Mac.
“That’s for tomorrow’s train, son.” The color seemed to drain from Mac’s vision as quickly as it left his face; he could not have possibly been so stupid to have gotten tickets for the wrong day. But as he glanced down at the tickets with frantic breath, he saw that the ticket stallion was right. Many choice curse words came to mind and Mac was on the verge of employing several of them when a feather-light touch caressed his trembling hoof. Fluttershy gave him a soft smile before approaching the counter herself.
“Um, excuse me, um sir?” She asked timidly, though she was using what Mac knew was her shouting voice. “Could you possibly tell us, I mean, if you’re not too busy, if there are any other trains to Canterlot tonight?”
“Well of course, miss, anything for a pretty filly like you,” he replied, winking at her. Fluttershy’s face turned as dark as Mac’s coat, but the ticket stallion was too busy checking the schedule to notice. “There’s a train to Canterlot at 6:45 this evening, would you like to buy tickets, Miss?” Fluttershy nodded and tried to hide behind her mane, a feat that proved impossible in its current updo. Mac quickly pulled six bits from his pocket and placed them on the counter. “Planning on riding in the cargo hold, son?”
“Pardon?”
“The weekend train to Canterlot is five bits each, not three.”
“But mah tickets fer tamorrow, Sunday, were only three each.” Mac protested weakly, eager to end the conversation.
“That’ll be the Sunday discount,” the lilac stallion replied, “Friday evening and all day Saturday is five bits.”
“Do you, um, need help paying?” Fluttershy asked, “I brought my bits—”
Mac gazed down at his marefriend, all vestiges of frustration leaving his face. “’Course not, darlin’” he replied before placing four more bits on the counter, “though Ah appreciate the offer nonetheless.”
The pair gladly took leave of the ticket window and returned to the platform. Even after their trying interactions with the ticket stallion they had thirty minutes before their train was due, but they passed the time easily with stories of their days. Mac never tired of listening to Fluttershy speak tenderly about her animals, or the way her gentle voice rose dramatically when describing a particularly drastic critter rescue or Angel’s latest outburst. The tension that had accumulated in his withers gradually dissipated as he forgot all about the extra bits he had had to spend and the tiresome ticket stallion.
The train pulled into the station a few minutes early, and Mac sincerely hoped that the engineer would remain swift in their journey, as they would lose their reservation if they were more than twenty minutes late to the restaurant. It would be close, but The Gilded Gelding wasn’t far from the train station downtown, and they should be able to just make it in time. ‘It’ll be fine,’ Mac told himself, ‘everythin’ else will be perfect.’
They did indeed reach the capital city in just fifty minutes, and after briefly consulting a map outside the station, Mac delightfully announced that the restaurant was a mere three blocks away.
“Oh thank goodness,” Fluttershy said as they made their way through the crowded streets, “I’m so hungry I think I could eat a – a whole bale of hay!” Mac chuckled deeply and Fluttershy joined in his laughter, letting her eyes close and her head tip back in her moment of mirth.
“Oh my Celestia, is that Fluttershy?!” An unfamiliar voice rang out several paces away before its owner pushed through the crowd of ponies waiting to cross the street into Mac and Fluttershy’s field of vision. She was a pale blue mare with a blonde mane styled in the trendiest Canterlot fashion, and the friend who trotted up behind her was equally chic.
“You’re right! The mare who was the top model in all of Equestria three years ago!” The second mare exclaimed. Fluttershy waved uncomfortably as more ponies started to look at her with interest.
“I worship the spread you did for Fillydelphia Fashion,” the blue mare said, grasping Fluttershy’s hoof. “Can I get an autograph? Oh I just can’t believe I got to meet the famous Fluttershy!”
The group of ponies on the sidewalk had turned into a crowd, all jostling to get a look at the cowering pony still being held tightly by the azure mare. Shouts began ringing out up and down the sidewalk,
“I love your dress!”
“Can I have a picture?”
“Oh, I want to shake her hoof next!”
Before either Mac or Fluttershy knew what was happening, several dozen ponies were elbowing each other to get to her, reaching for her hoof, trying to stroke her mane, snatching at her dress. Mac stepped in front of her but more simply came up from the other side, all desperate to touch the smallest bit of a famous pony. Cameras were flashing wildly, ponies were screaming for her attention from every direction, and then he heard a sickening tear followed by a cry of utter terror from the yellow pegasus whom he was attempting to shield. Rearing wildly, he threw Fluttershy over his back and used every ounce of brute strength he possessed to break through the sea of adoring fans and gallop away as quickly as his hooves would allow him.
Mac didn’t break his stride until he was able to duck into a small shop with Fluttershy still thrown over his back; he crouched low under the counter until he was sure the herd of rabid fans had run past. Sighing heavily, Mac felt Fluttershy slide off his back. As he turned to her to suggest finding a back road to the restaurant, his words became stuck in his throat; her beautiful dress was in tatters, no more than a few stomped-on rags that clung weakly to her trembling frame. Her mane was mangled in a way that looked horribly as though somepony had grabbed it in their mouth, and several feathers had been plucked from her left wing.
“Oh darlin’,” Mac said, pulling her into the gentlest embrace he could manage, “Ah’m so sorry. Ah shoulda done more ta stop ‘em.”
“I-it’s ok-kay,” Fluttershy sniffled into his chest. “I’m sorry I couldn’t fight them off myself.” Mac gripped her all the more tenderly, his heart aching for her.
He offered her his hoofkerchief which she accepted, daintily blowing her nose before returning it to him. “Do ya wanna just head home? We could still catch the last train back—”
“Oh no!” Fluttershy exclaimed, blushing a moment later at her outburst, which of course had been no louder than a field mouse’s sneeze. “I mean, uh, unless you want to, that is.” When Mac did not object, she continued, “it’s just, I was having such a lovely time before those fan ponies came along, and I would hate for such a nice evening to be ruined just because of them.” Mac grinned, kissing her lightly on the forehead.
“Let’s get ya cleaned up and get goin’ then, we still have five minutes before we lose our reservation.”
Fluttershy’s hooves were still shaking slightly as she and Big Macintosh exited the shop in which they had found refuge; fortunately, it had turned out to be a small boutique, and the owner graciously restyled Fluttershy’s mane after witnessing the mob of raving ponies attempt to tear her to pieces in the street. After a quick brush through and several quality minutes with a curling iron, her mane now fell in soft curls, and the peony that Big Mac had picked for her (remarkably unscathed from the assault) was tucked behind her ear. Her dress was completely ruined, but with Mac by her side Fluttershy still felt like the most beautiful mare in Canterlot.
Dusk had fallen on the capital city, and though the streets were lit with the heady glow of lanterns, the shadows kept Fluttershy hidden from any more potential fans. The Gilded Gelding was indeed close to the train station, right in the heart of the city. Fluttershy gasped at the larger-than-life solid gold pegasi statues that flanked the restaurant’s entrance, only to rest her eyes on the most lavish eatery she had ever seen. Glittering crystal chandeliers hung above each of the ebony tables and reflected their radiance off one another, scattering beads of light like diamonds across the marble floors. Gold shimmered and shone wherever she looked, from the opulent carved fountain that sat in the center of the dining room to the bandstand which held a string quartet to the cufflinks of each and every tuxedoed waiter. She very well could have stood in the doorway gawking all night, had Mac not put his foreleg around her withers and guided her gently towards the maitre d’.
“Evenin’,” Mac rumbled in his low, reassuring voice, “Ah have a reservation fer two.”
The maitre d’ glanced over the pair critically before demanding, “Name?” His voice dripped with a posh Canterlot accent, and the crisp cummerbund around his waist looked so tight that Fluttershy doubted whether he was even able to walk in it.
“Macintosh Apple.”
“Quite,” the maitre d’ pony sniffed before turning to the long scroll that sat atop his podium. “Ah. Yes. It appears you are late,” the cream-coated host observed, narrowing his dark blue eyes at the pair of them. Fluttershy felt anxiety creep into her conspicuously empty stomach. ‘Oh please, he’s worked so hard, don’t let anything else go wrong tonight,’ she wished silently. Mac seemed to understand her unspoken prayer, and rallied his spirits yet again.
“Ah’m well aware,” the crimson work horse started carefully, “but Ah was told Ah had twenty minutes after mah reservation ‘fore y’all gave the table away.” Mac held his watch up to the snobby stallion, the hands of which clearly showed that it was still a couple minutes before 7:50.
“That is indeed our policy, Sir,” the matire d’ drawled, “But as you can see, you are precisely twenty-two minutes late.” A veil of silver magic sprouted from his horn and lifted a prim golden pocket watch from his waistcoat; indeed, the minute hand on the pristine clock was just barely past the number 10 mark. Fluttershy saw Mac’s apple green eyes widened in shock and his mouth worked uselessly, trying to produce sufficient words to turn back the hand on that tiny golden watch. “Therefore, I am afraid I must ask you to leave,” said the maitre d’, and with his nose in the air the cream unicorn began trotting swiftly away.
“No!” Fluttershy squeaked out, stopping the maitre d’ in his tracks. She could feel an unwelcome heat blooming on her cheeks; apparently her protest had been loud enough to attract the attention of several of the other patrons. ‘Too late to turn back now, Fluttershy’ she told herself resolutely. ‘Mac worked too hard for this night to be ruined by some big meanie.’ Ignoring the burn of humiliation that had erupted across her face, Fluttershy approached the maitre d’ and cleared her throat. “Please excuse me for shouting, but we’ve come so very far tonight, and it would just mean the world to us if you could perhaps allow us to fulfill our reservation?”
The maitre d’ quirked an eyebrow, but his otherwise impassive expression remained unruffled. “I am sorry for your troubles, Miss, but I cannot make an exception.” His eyes shifted quickly from Fluttershy to a spot just over her withers and then back again; the butter cream pegasus glanced behind her but didn’t see whatever had caught his eye.
“Isn’t there anything at all you could do?” She implored, her jade eyes shining in the glow of the chandeliers. The maitre d’ furrowed his brow and coughed before his eyes traced the same pattern as before. Fluttershy rubbed a hoof behind her head and looked around again, but could not discern the target of the maitre d’s gaze. The posh stallion rolled his eyes before clearing his throat much more loudly and not-so-subtly poking her little pink saddlebag with a hoof. “Oh!” Fluttershy exclaimed, relieved to have caught on at last. Again her voice caught the notice of several of the other ponies in the vicinity, and she ducked her head in shame as the host gave her a scornful look. “Oh, um,” she fumbled, trying her best to extract a few bits from her purse without drawing further attention to herself. The meek pegasus finally managed to withdraw three bits and placed them in the stallion’s upturned hoof; the maitre d’ scoffed and gestured again towards her bag. Hiding behind her mane as much as possible, Fluttershy took out another four bits and gave them to the host.
“Young lady, you are aware that a bribe generally constitutes offering a substantial amount?” He whispered harshly. Fluttershy’s face felt as though it would soon ignite from redness and her spine seemed to crumble. At last she withdrew her ten remaining bits and placed them in the stallion’s hoof, her eyes trained on the ground and heavy with tears threatening to spill down her flaming cheeks. “It’s hardly a pittance,” he muttered, “but I suppose I can be charitable just this once.” Magicking the money into his pocket, the maitre d’ trotted swiftly back to his podium, Fluttershy trailing behind him with her head lowered. “I shall see what I can do,” he announced to Big Mac, who had been waiting in the doorway during the entire transaction. The crimson work horse started but said nothing until the host walked away again.
“What’d ya give him?”
“N-n-nothing,” Fluttershy said, looking anywhere but into her coltfriend’s honest eyes. “I j-just asked nicely if there wasn’t something he could do.” There was a long pause, and Fluttershy chanced a peek at Mac to find him looking blankly at her. He sighed and shook his head, but placed a light kiss on her forehead nonetheless.
“Ahem,” a pointed voice sounded behind them, startling the couple. The maitre d’ had returned and was levitating two menus before him. “If you will kindly follow me, I have managed to secure you a new table.” The pair followed his winding path through the decadently stacked tables where ponies sporting Canterlot’s finest fashions chattered to and fro. Back and forth they went, following the uptight host pony through the maze of elegant tables and glamorous guests, and just when Fluttershy was certain she would get nauseous from all the bobbing and weaving, the maitre d’ stopped abruptly and plopped the menus unceremoniously in front of them. “Good evening,” he said in his clipped tone, and with a sharp nod he departed, his nose still proudly stuck in the air.
He had left them at a tiny table, really only fit for one pony, at the very back of the restaurant in a nook next to the kitchen doors. Fluttershy had to leap out of the way as a black-jacketed waiter rushed past with a silver platter of food, and before the kitchen door swung shut behind him they could hear shouts and clatter erupting from the culinary center. Mac made a chivalrous attempt to pull her chair out for her, but could not manage to squeeze himself behind the wall and the chair, and in fact managed to get himself stuck for several moments before he was forced to sit in the chair himself. He gestured apologetically to his marefriend, who giggled softly and took the seat opposite him.
Their little corner was cramped and dark, for there was no tinkling crystal chandelier above their table to shed its warm golden light. Fluttershy squinted at the menu, then gasped and let it fall from her hooves.
“Mac, you didn’t tell me this place was so expensive!” she whimpered. “Twenty-two bits for celery soup?! More than thirty bits for spinach lasagna?!” Her eyes bulged and she shook her head in disbelief. She had expected the restaurant to be pricey, but a meal for the two of them here would cost her more than three months’ savings! “I just can’t let you spend that much, especially after they gave us so much trouble.”
“Don’t fret over it, darlin’,” Mac said, taking her slender hoof in his large calloused one.
“Well you have to at least help me pay—” Fluttershy started to say, but she quickly stopped herself as she remembered that the maitre d’ had relieved her of all her money. Big Mac raised an eyebrow knowingly. “It’s alright, Ah knew how much it’d cost. An’ ya can’t tell me yer not hungry,” Big Mac said smiling at her, and at that moment her stomach decided to emit a particularly ferocious growl.
“I guess not,” Fluttershy admitted, grinning in spite of herself. “Everything does look delicious,” she said, picking up the menu again. She could feel herself salivating as she looked over the carte du jour; perhaps she would get the filhay mignon with a side of salted kale chips, and a decadent slice of carrot cake with cream cheese frosting for dessert. Eyes drinking in the succulent options, Fluttershy could practically feel her stomach gnawing on itself in anticipation. Getting there might have been stressful, but at least their meal would be delectable.
Or at least, that’s what she kept telling herself, because as the minutes slowly began to tick by and no waiter emerged to take their order, her stomach became increasingly vocal about its emptiness. ‘I’m sure they’re just very busy,’ the pegasus thought, eying the platters that kept whizzing out of the kitchen with envy. Twenty minutes after they sat down they had not even been offered so much as a glass of water, and Fluttershy was so hungry she felt about ready to eat the tablecloth. She couldn’t even manage to enjoy talking with her coltfriend, as every time the kitchen doors swung open the din of dozens of pots and pans drowned out their voices.
After thirty minutes Fluttershy felt about ready to pass out, and was on the verge of trotting straight into the kitchen and demanding a plate of whatever was nearest when a plum stallion in a sleek black tuxedo appeared at their table.
“Welcome to The Gilded Gelding,” he said, barely concealing the boredom in his voice. “My name is Blackberry Cabernet, I will be your sommelier this evening. May I suggest starting with—”
“—Actually, if it ain’t too much trouble, Ah think we’d rather jus’ skip the drinks and order our dinner. Do ya think ya might send out our waiter?” Mac interrupted, much to Fluttershy’s relief. She nodded her head enthusiastically, hoping that her stomach would not complain in front of the wine steward. Blackberry Cabernet let out a strangled noise that was halfway between shock and offense, turned sharply on his heel, and walked stiffly back towards the kitchen with his nose in the air. ‘Everypony sure does like keeping their noses up here…’ Fluttershy thought.
Apparently the sommelier had been greatly insulted, for their waiter did not appear for a further fifteen minutes. Though in all honesty, Fluttershy thought, even if Blackberry Cabernet had asked their waiter to come out he might not have done, for the second suited stallion was as snooty as the first. He was highly affronted that they did not want to order an appetizer and instead asked for their main courses, which he brought out from the kitchen forty minutes after they had placed their order.
Setting two plates before them, the waiter (who had not even bothered to give them his name) trotted off. Fluttershy hardly minded, however, and began cutting into her filhay mignon as quickly as she could. The food was barely lukewarm, but there was no denying its succulence as she savored the first bite in her mouth. She gazed over at Big Mac blissfully, only to see him staring at his plate rather than enjoying his meal.
“What’s wrong?”
“They brought me the wrong food,” Mac replied, sighing. “But Ah’m too hungry to care much.” He stabbed the lasagna, which was supposed to have been beet stew, with his fork and swallowed a huge mouthful of pasta and veggies.
“Careful, you’re going to make yourself sick!” Fluttershy half-joked, cutting herself another dainty bite of food. Big Mac chuckled, his cheeks tinged pink at her teasing. Fluttershy laughed too, but before she could take another bite she noticed that Mac’s face was flushed more deeply than his usual blush. His laugh, normally low and rumbling, came out as a wheeze, and beads of perspiration began trickling down his brow.
“Are you okay—?” Fluttershy was becoming more and more alarmed as Macintosh grasped wildly for his water glass and upended it over the table; his face was nearly purple and she realized he was not laughing but rather struggling to breathe. As Fluttershy frantically glanced around for more water she spotted a small brown half-circle protruding from the bed of spinach in his partially eaten lasagna. “Oh dear oh dear oh dear!” The poor pegasus shouted, desperately trying to free herself from her cramped chair to reach Big Macintosh, who by now had nearly collapsed on top of the table. “Somepony HELP!” she cried at the top of her voice, “he’s allergic to mushrooms!”
Thankfully, the ambulance didn’t take as long to arrive as their food had.
It was uncommonly warm for a spring morning at Sweet Apple Acres, but by no means unpleasant. Beams of sunlight colored the inside of Big Macintosh’s eyelids tangerine, and the balmy air cradled the crimson stallion like his favorite quilt; in fact, he slowly realized, it was his favorite quilt. He nestled further under the blankets, relishing in their embrace. But it wasn’t just his quilt holding him. Without opening his eyes he traced two slender hooves which had wrapped themselves securely around his middle, and to his delight and surprise found that there was a whole pony attached to them. His hooves ran over a velvety coat and through the long strands of a silky mane. Sweet breath tickled the back of his neck, the steady ebb and flow of air matching the slow but powerful tattoo of his own heartbeat.
‘Ah could get used ta this,’ the work stallion thought, or perhaps he said it aloud, for Fluttershy sighed behind him, seemingly in agreement. Big Macintosh permitted himself a goofy grin regardless. Eyes still closed, he turned his head and nuzzled the mare behind him, and a friendly robin began echoing their contentment with his song. Actually, now that he thought about it, he had never heard a bird song quite like it; it was decidedly rhythmic, precise in its beat. For a moment he was tempted to open his eyes and glimpse the strange bird, but some part of his still sleepy mind knew that if he did, his contentment would be broken.
Tweet.
‘Just a silly ol’ robin anyhow,’ he thought, turning his head away from the window.
Tweet.
‘Sure is a persistent little thing.’
Tweet. After hearing it a few times, he noticed it really wasn’t a bird sound at all. What he had at first taken as a ‘tweet’ was really more of a ‘beep.’ Again he almost opened his eyes to see the strange robin, but caught himself just in time.
Beep.
‘No, Ah don’t want ta wake up yet.’ Like a snake-charmer’s tune, the bizarre bird call was luring his eyelids apart, tempting him to chance a look at it.
Beep.
‘Y’all knock that off now, y’hear?’ His resistance was failing, and though he screwed up his face and scrunched his eyes shut tight, he could not ignore his burning curiosity.
Beep.
‘Consarnit!’ The scarlet earth pony finally felt his will give way and his eyes shot open, only to be met with blinding white light. The harsh scent of chemicals and linoleum filled his nostrils, and it was not his favorite quilt but rather a thin, scratchy grey blanket that kept him warm. The odd bird call sounded again, and he blearily looked round to see that it was no bird at all, but rather some fancy machine covered in buttons and wires making the beeping sound.
One thing remained from his dream, however; Fluttershy was in fact wrapping him tenderly in her hooves, though she was not alongside him in the bed but asleep in a metal chair next to it and had apparently drifted off holding him. A warmth that could not be credited to the scratchy grey blanket filled his stomach and bubbled up in his chest as he watched her softly breathing in and out, the smallest crease belying worry on her forehead.
‘Wait a minute, where the hay are we?’ Mac thought, his groggy head only just catching up with the situation. His apple green eyes swept the room with interest, and from the machine which he now realized was a heart monitor to the sickly green gown he was wearing he surmised he was in the hospital. He racked his brains for reasons he might have wound up in such a predicament, his mind still working at a sluggish pace.
‘Was it an apple buckin’ accident?’ He wondered, laying back down on the flimsy pillow behind him. Big Macintosh stretched, feeling no aching in his muscles. ‘Nah, Ah don’t feel sore.’ He scratched his chin, only to realize that his jaw felt oddly shaped beneath his hoof. Moving up to his cheeks, he found that they were painfully swollen, and strangely stretched-feeling as though they had been much larger than they were now, despite already feeling excessively puffy. The farm stallion was more puzzled than ever at this latest development, but his fuzzy thoughts could not find a reason for his current state. His gaze fell again on Fluttershy sleeping awkwardly in the angular chair, and in her bed-ruffled hair he caught sight of a wilting flower, a pink peony to be exact.
In an instant, the entire evening came flooding back to him, from taking the wrong train to the mob of insane fan ponies to the horrible waiters to the disastrous food, which he had realized all too late had had mushrooms in it. The weight of his failure seemed to crush Mac back into the hospital bed, and he groaned loudly, pressing his eyes to his hooves. His attempt at a romantic evening had been nothing short of a disaster.
“That must’ve been the worst date ever,” he muttered.
“I think it was nice,” a delicate voice said. Big Mac’s eyes shot open to see that Fluttershy had woken and was looking at him with a sleepy but genuine smile. “I mean, well, not the night itself,” she retracted, “that was pretty awful.” He groaned again, glancing around for a blunt object against which he might bang his head. “But all your efforts to try and make it special were very sweet.” With a soft flutter she brought herself level with his nose and placed on it the gentlest of kisses, like the tickle of butterfly wings.
All of his frustrations, anxiety, and even the pain in his face seemed to flow away with that tiny kiss. He gazed unabashedly on his marefriend as she settled down next to him on the bed, the very image of patience and compassion. And then, without even knowing what he was doing, acting purely on his determination to salvage some part of the night, he began to speak.
“Fluttershy, Ah know tanight wasn’t quite perfect,” he started, rubbing a hoof behind his neck. “But Ah want ya ta know that Ah’d do anythin’ ta make ya happy, and, well,” he reached to his jacket on the nightstand and rummaged through it, searching for the small velvet box. “Ah just want ta say,” he continued, grunting as he fumbled with the cloth. “Ah just have ta tell ya,” he wheezed, becoming frantic with each passing second that he did not lay hooves on the box. “Ah wanted ta say… Oh ponyfeathers.” Dread hit him like a bushel of apples; his perfectly planned proposal was now officially ruined. He thought he would at least be able to get this part right, but how could he possibly propose if he had lost the ring?!
‘Ya dang featherbrain,’ he berated himself, ‘can’t do nothin’ right, can’t even keep track of one lousy—’
“Um, are you looking for that?” Fluttershy asked timidly, pointing at the ground. Mac glanced down and saw the ring box protruding out from under the bed. He lunged for it, hurling the entirety of his weight at the linoleum. Unfortunately, in an effort to help Fluttershy dove for it too, and with a spectacular thud, the two ponies collided headfirst. Mac could not see, for the bed sheets had caught him in their web on the way down and in the chaos the blanket had gotten caught on his head. He was at once trying to escape his blankety prison and weeding through the layers of fabric frantically for the box, and when he finally surfaced from the bedding he found the object of his search lying only a few inches from his nose. Fluttershy, in a similar state of disarray, was just on the other side of it, her eyes enormous as she stared at the little box. Mac attempted to sit up and banged his head against the bottom of the hospital bed, which he had somehow fallen under in the fray. His head and face aching, his dignity almost entirely gone, he extracted a hoof from the sheets and pulled the dainty lid open to reveal the golden ring within.
“Marry me, darlin’?”
For a long time Fluttershy said nothing, and merely stared with a blank expression at the ring. As the seconds ticked past, Mac began to feel like a complete foal.
‘Ah’m such an idjit,’ he cursed himself, ‘course she don’t want ta marry me now. What mare in her right mind would want ta marry a stallion who can’t even propose right?’ A tightness came to his throat that had nothing to do with his swollen glands, and just as he was about to pick himself off the floor, apologize, and promise to never bother her again, he looked up and saw she was smiling. It was a shy smile, the kind she had given him right after their very first kiss, the kind that let him know she could hardly believe what had just happened.
Slowly, nervously, she gave a single nod. And, with her dress torn to shreds and her bits all spent on bribes, her mane a mess and stomach empty, lying on a hospital floor in a tangle of sheets at three in the morning, she wrapped her slender hooves around his neck and kissed him hard. And somehow, despite everything, it was perfect.
