At the Seams
Completely relaxed, Sandbar curled himself against the most beautiful yak in the world and knew he was the luckiest creature to ever live. Sure, he was never gonna be Captain of the Royal Guard like Gallus or actual royalty like Silverstream, but, well, neither of them was ever gonna be married to Yona, were they?
No, they were not!
Her four big legs around him had already gone slack, her breathing slowing and deepening, but still she stirred. "Sandbar awake?"
He loved the way her voice rumbled through him when they were lying like this. "Only for you, babe."
She chuckled, and Sandbar inhaled the sweet musk of her fur. Marrying the girl of his dreams after they'd graduated, moving into Carousel Boutique when Rarity offered Yona the chance to manage the cornerstone business of the world's fastest-growing fashion empire, becoming members of the Ponyville Chamber of Commerce and taking their place in the community: was there anything better than this?
No, there was not!
But Yona had continued speaking, so Sandbar shook himself mentally, trying to focus on her words: "Did Sandbar send out all invitations for fashion show?"
Okay. An easy one. "Last week, and the response cards we got back, well, everypony who's anypony'll be here. And a bunch of 'em who aren't ponies, too."
"Food ordered?"
"I gave Pinkie the list myself."
"Music?"
"Both Ms. Octavia and Ms. Scratch just like you wanted."
"And Sandbar's dental appointment Wednesday?"
Not sure he'd heard right, he stretched his neck so he could look her in the face. Of course, since it was dark, he couldn't see her face, but he was pretty sure it was up there somewhere past her chest. "Dental appointment?" he asked in that direction.
"Reminder note came in mail today." Her voice drifted over him like warm, wonderful snow, and he basked in it even though he still wasn't quite sure where her face was. "Yona set it on Sandbar's desk."
A couple things began percolating through his head. First, he had no memory of making an appointment to see Dr. Colgate. But did that bother him?
No, it did not, he told himself once again. That's why dentists used reminder notes, after all: everypony always forgot their appointments.
Second and more importantly, though— "I have a desk?"
When she chuckled this time, Yona pulled Sandbar even closer. "Silly pony," she crooned. "Husband's mind a sweet, beautiful mystery to Yona. What he likely to forget? What he likely to remember?"
He pressed his face deeper into her fur. It was one of the reasons his parents had sent him to the Friendship School, in fact, though he didn't like to think about it much. They'd been convinced that he'd developed some sort of friendship problem since he'd had trouble keeping track of birthdays and names and faces of ponies even when they were close to him. He'd started wondering himself what was wrong with him, but then his first minute at school, he'd literally run into a group of students who didn't look or sound or act like anypony else because, well, they weren't ponies, were they?
No, they were not. Being able to pick them out from a crowd had been a revelation, had led him to mnemonic devices that helped him identify ponies, connecting cutie marks and color schemes to names even when they otherwise all looked exactly the same to him, and had led in a straight line to him living the most wonderful life imaginable. As long as Dr. Colgate and Yona and the rest of the world didn't mind sending him little reminder notes every once in a while...
Stroking a hoof along Yona's side, he murmured, "One thing I'll always remember, always, always, and always." He pushed his lips out to touch the curve of her neck. "Sandbar love his Yona."
"And Yona love her Sandbar," he heard, her breathing again slowing and deepening—
Till he was yawning awake, the bed seeming to stretch for miles around him when she wasn't there. It took a moment to remember why he was alone, but when he did, he clambered quickly out of the blankets. The town had just wrapped up winter, after all, and that meant new spring hats and coats and dresses. He and Yona had been bouncing design ideas around since before Hearth's Warming, and with Rarity's approval letter pinned to the cork board in the studio upstairs, they'd spent the short days and long nights of winter filling the shop with pieces for the upcoming spring. He trotted down the stairs, ready for the big show—
And Yona planted her forehead against his flank, pushing him toward the front door. "Yona need one more day alone with clothes. Then all be ready."
Sandbar didn't resist or complain or even roll his eyes. The invitations, he remembered now, had all had tomorrow's date on them. He'd wondered about it at the time, but he'd apparently forgotten his question between the post office and the Boutique...
Shaking his head, he smiled, pushed the door open with a hoof so she could slide him right outside, and asked, "Some of your special yak magic?"
Behind him, she gave a snort. "Husband always ask that."
He turned to blink up at her. "I do?"
Eyes half closed, she gave him a look that quaked his knees. "And Yona always say she know better thing for husband to do with mouth than make wisecracks."
This part, he remembered suddenly and vividly. Stretching his neck upward, he met her lips coming down, and the rest of the world sort of went away for a while.
Then a throat was clearing somewhere, Yona pulling back, Sandbar staggering around, trying to figure out where his hooves were. His vision clearing, he saw an orange earth pony stallion grinning at them from the street, his purple mane and top hat cutie mark telling Sandbar it was Tender Taps. "I'd wish you both a good morning," Taps said with a wink, "but I'm guessing you've already had one."
"Ah, yes," Yona said, her voice rising into the affected accent she used when talking to customers and acquaintances. "Such is the glamorous life of a high-fashion designer." She gave Sandbar one more peck on the snout and one more push away from the door. "I'll see you after suppertime, Sandbar, darling, and I hope we'll see you and Sweetie Belle at the unveiling tomorrow, Tender." A smile, and she moved back inside, closing the door after herself.
His heart rate just about back to normal, Sandbar turned to Taps. "You had breakfast yet?"
Taps shook his head, his usually well-styled mane a little scruffy, and started toward town square. "With her morning sickness, Sweetie wasn't in much of a mood for breakfast." He gave another grin. "Oh, yeah: we're pregnant, by the way."
"You—" Sandbar had to stop again to make sure his hooves weren't slipping. "Pregnant? When? How? I mean, not how, but—"
"We found out yesterday." Taps was still grinning and walking, so Sandbar hurried to catch up with him. "We thought she'd caught a stomach bug or something, but, well, turns out she'd caught a little bit of me instead."
"Well, congrats!" With a skip, Sandbar managed to smack Taps in the shoulder. "That's great! Though I guess we'll hafta alter some of Sweetie's show gowns. Or—" He didn't stop walking this time though the thought that had struck him made him want to. "Will you still be able to do the show?"
Nodding this time, Taps's mane got even more flyaway. "Sweetie figures she can keep singing pretty much till she delivers, and that'll be after next Hearth's Warming so we won't miss any of those gigs. I can take some of the offers I get for straight-up dance jobs in Canterlot to tide us over, then we rig a nursery in one of the backstage rooms, and with a little help and a little luck, we'll have the whole Castle Theater back up and running full-strength by next summer. Just with a new little singer wailing away." Taps did a shuffling side step. "We've got it all planned out."
It took some effort for Sandbar to shake off his shock. "Well, anything me and Yona can do, you let us know. 'Cause, I mean, a foal! That's...that's—" He couldn't find any words to finish the sentence.
"It sure is," Taps said, then they were rounding the corner, entering the square, Sugarcube Corner its usual riot of sights and scents across the way. This time, though, a big banner stretched along the gables, multi-colored letters spelling out Congratulations, Sweetie Belle and Tender Taps! Because was there any way Pinkie Pie wouldn't have known?
No, there was not. Sandbar chuckled to himself.
As manager of the Ponyville Arts Center and star performer at the theater that took up a quarter of Princess Twilight's former castle, Taps took center stage everywhere he went. But entering the bakery beside him at breakfast time on that Monday morning, Sandbar got a front-row view of it happening: Pinkie yelling "Tapsy!" while galloping from the kitchen and vaulting over the counter; all eyes in the place turning toward them; pastries and well-wishes seeming to fly from every direction; Cheese Sandwich hooting and whooping behind the cash register, Li'l Cheese waving from his back.
Sandbar got himself out of the spotlight as quickly as he could, slid into a corner table, and tried to sort out what he was feeling. Happy for Taps and Sweetie, sure—he and Yona had gotten to know them pretty well, putting together the costumes for their shows. But...
They were younger than him and Yona, and they were having a foal? Taps had said they had a plan, and Sandbar knew they'd be great parents, so...this shouldn't bother him, should it?
No, he tried to tell himself, it should not. And yet?
"Buns for ev'rycreature!" a familiar exuberant voice rang out, startling Sandbar's attention away from the hoof bumps and hugs surrounding Taps. Pinkie Pie herself—a walking mnemonic device if there'd ever been one—was grinning down at him, her hooves pulling a small cinnamon roll on a plate from her mane. "'Cause, y'know, Sweetie's got a bun in the oven!"
Having to force his smile just a bit, Sandbar took the plate and set it on the table. "Thanks, Professor Pie."
"Oh, now, Sandbar." She pulled another roll and plate from her hair and flopped down in the chair across the table from him. "I haven't been a professor for umpty-ump years now, so just call me Pinkie." Her tongue darted out like a frog's, wrapped around the cinnamon roll, and snapped it back into her mouth. "But you're looking a little gloomy all of a sudden. Ev'rything okay?"
"Yeah..." He had to wince at how completely not okay he sounded. Taking a bite of his cinnamon roll, he tried to figure out what he was thinking. "It's just, y'know, Taps and Sweetie, right?"
"Yeppers." Professor—or rather Pinkie—sighed. "When they got married, it was like, 'Hey! How did that happen?' And now that they've got the stork on the way?" She sighed, then her ears perked. "But it's not like they're charging all over Equestria saving monsters from ravening princesses like I was at their age! They're settled right here in Ponyville and doing great!"
A little cold spot formed in the pit of Sandbar's stomach as he tried not to recall how many years he and Yona had been running Carousel Boutique. "So you and Mr. Sandwich waited till you were settled before you had Li'l Cheese?"
"Us? Settled?" Pinkie laughed. "We're party ponies, Sandbar!" She swept one hoof from left to right in front of her. "We're as free as the leaves in the breeze."
He blinked at her. "But you're here at Sugarcube Corner all the time, aren't you?"
She made a little pooping noise with her lips. "That's just to help Pound and Pumpkin out." Another wave of her hoof drew his attention past the crowd still gathered around Taps to the Cake twins, laughing with Cheese Sandwich and Li'l Cheese on the other side of the bakery's counter.
"But..." Unsure if he wanted to bring the matter up, he still couldn't stop himself from asking, "Don't you three still live here?"
Leaning forward, Pinkie tapped the table. "Free as the leaves in the breeze, Sandbar." Then she leaned back and shrugged. "And yeah, some leaves stay attached to the tree, but it's the principle of the thing." Reaching out, she grabbed her plate, gave it a lick, and shoved it back into her mane. "But why so interested all of a sudden? You and Yona thinking of having kids?"
"I wasn't till now," he had to admit, and the rest just flowed out without him even thinking. "'Cause, I mean, we're settled, right? Good jobs, a nice house, and we're, like, so totally in love, we go at it maybe two, three times a night sometimes! And we've been doing it that often pretty much since junior year! So shouldn't something already have happened? Since we're having so much—"
"Yes?" Pinkie leaning forward, her grin so big, it looked painted on, made him realize that he was talking with one of his former schoolteachers about his sex life.
Heat flooded his face, and scooping up the last bits of his cinnamon roll, he sprang to his hooves. "Okay! Well! Nice talk, but I...I've gotta go!" He briefly considered using the nearby window instead of pushing his way through the crowd to the door, but the window was closed, and adding property damage to the mortification he already felt really didn't seem like the right way to go.
Somehow avoiding eye contact with everycreature, he squeezed outside—
And everywhere he looked under the early spring morning sunlight, foals ran or played or walked along with their parents, more foals than he'd ever noticed in Ponyville before. But...they couldn't have all just appeared overnight, could they?
No, they could not.
Which meant they'd always been there, and he'd just never paid any attention to them. Little earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi; young griffons and hippogriffs and dragons; a pod of small changelings following along after a pair of larger ones: kids of every size, age, and species filled the town square and the streets beyond till Sandbar found it hard to breathe, hard to think even.
Swirling his eyes around the scene, he finally found his gaze resting on a pair of older ponies seemingly unattached to any foals. A quick search through his mental lists told him that he knew them, had in fact known them his whole life: Lyra and Bon Bon, their names seldom spoken separately. They'd been married forever, after all, or at least as long as Big Mac and Sugar Belle. But they didn't have any kids.
Because they were both mares, of course. They could've adopted if they'd wanted to, he supposed, but—
But—
But—
Could he and Yona even have foals? Sure, the different tribes of ponies could have kids together, but—
But—
But yaks weren't ponies. Were they?
No, they were not...
Things went away for a while, then, but he shook himself when he realized that his legs were moving, carrying him he had no idea where. He wasn't hearing foalish voices anymore, though—wasn't hearing any voices at all—and looking up, he found that he'd wandered straight through town and out to the hill overlooking Sweet Feather animal sanctuary.
But why would he do that? Was he planning to ask Professor Fluttershy about—
No, no, no, he was not! Even the hints he'd given about the intimate details of his and Yona's life to Professor Pie—Pinkie, he told himself; his mental lists always took a little time to update—the embarrassment had nearly boiled the hide from his bones. If he had to get actually specific about...that...in talking to Professor Fluttershy, he couldn't imagine either of them would survive.
Besides, it didn't matter! He loved Yona! She was so open and honest and alive, always herself whether she was happy or upset. And after growing up in a family where everything had to be smooth and mellow all the time, no waves of joy or sadness or anything else allowed, the cascades of her emotions had attracted him to her like inert iron to a magnet. So what if they couldn't have foals? Did that really matter?
No, it did not, he wanted to think. But somehow for once, he couldn't get the words to form in his head.
Wishing he could be anywhere else, Sandbar started down the hill toward the animal sanctuary gate, his gaze skimming among the trees and structures inside the enclosure for any sign of the professor's telltale yellow and pink.
By the time he reached the gate, he'd glanced from end to end several times without seeing her. Should he leave a note in the mailbox?
No, he should not. He didn't have pencil or paper with him, after all.
A hoof to the gate latch showed it to be unlocked, so he pushed through and stepped carefully in before closing and clicking the gate behind himself. He'd give the place a quick look around, then go back to town with a clear conscience.
Except for the part where he felt like he was betraying his marriage by wanting to ask about things that shouldn't concern him...
He was just turning to leave when a streak of light flashed so bright and white among the trees ahead, it made him wince. "Very good!" a baritone voice said, and Sandbar blinked to see that the utterly unmistakable form of Discord had appeared, his arms full of fluffy white bunnies. "Next time, we'll start learning five-card stud!"
The bunnies gave little bunny cheers, squeaking and waving their paws, then leaped away into the sanctuary. Sandbar watched them vanish, then looked back to find Discord looking straight at him, one eyebrow cocked.
"Uhhh," was all Sandbar could think to say.
"No, no, no." Discord snapped his claws, and a blindfold dropped from between his horns to cover his eyes. "Don't tell me. Let me guess." He tapped his chin. "Are you animal, vegetable, or mineral?"
Not sure if he should try running or not, Sandbar again found himself saying, "Uhhh..."
Discord sniffed, an eyeball popping open on the front of the blindfold. "Look, this isn't going to work if you don't know who you are either!" The blindfold flapped up like a window shade pulled too sharply, and Discord crooked a claw over his shoulder. "I'll go fetch Fluttershy. Maybe she can figure it out."
"No! Wait!" Because Discord was friendly now, right? More or less? And that meant he could help, didn't it?
No, it did not! a part of Sandbar insisted, but the rest of him was already going on: "You can make impossible stuff happen! 'Cause that's what I need!"
"Really?" Discord stood a little straighter, a necktie popping into place around his left forearm. "Well, then! Step into my office and tell me all about it!" He reached for the knob of a door that Sandbar hadn't noticed before, pushed it open—
And revealed nothing but the part of the animal sanctuary that lay on the other side. Twisting his neck, Discord peered through and muttered, "I could've sworn I had an office around here somewhere..." A snap of his eagle talons made the door disappear, and he turned back to Sandbar. "Well, go ahead and get started; I'm sure the office'll be along shortly."
Before he could think too much about it, Sandbar blurted out, "I need you to help me get my wife pregnant!"
The wing on Discord's left side exploded into a cloud of blue, peanut-butter-scented dust. "I see," he said. "Well, now, I'm no expert, but I've been told that the standard procedure for that process can be quite enjoyable for both parties." His mismatched eyes went wide. "Or are you saying that one or both of you has some condition that prevents the usual sort of marital relations?"
Sandbar swallowed. "She's a yak, and I'm, well, not."
Discord's wing grew back with a sudden wet splurshing noise. "Have you talked to your wife about this?"
Raising a front leg, Sandbar waved back toward town. "To tell you the truth, I've never really thought about it before. But with Sweetie Belle pregnant—"
"She is?" Discord's face lit up—quite literally, a swarm of fireflies surrounding him. "Oh, I foresee runny mascara and an extra-large tub of ice cream in Rarity's near future!" He stopped, cleared his throat, shooed the fireflies away, and took off a pair of glasses he hadn't been wearing till now. "Young fellow, let me give you a piece of wisdom I've learned after being in a relationship with a loving and beautiful pony for a number of years." He shook the glasses at Sandbar. "Before you do anything stupid, go and talk to your partner."
"Stupid?" Sandbar blinked. "Asking you for help is stupid?"
"Monumentally." A white flash, and a large photo album was floating in front of Discord with fancy calligraphy on the front cover: My Mistakes, volume 378. "The stories I could tell you..." He shook his head, and the book, flapping its pages, flew upward into the morning sky. "Like buying my photo albums from that same store all the time." Whipping a pair of binoculars out of nowhere, he began scanning the blue overhead. "But at least I know what the first entry in the next volume will be."
"So wait." It felt like shifting wet sandbags, trying to keep a conversation with Discord on track. "You're saying you can't help me?"
The smile that spread over Discord's snout reminded Sandbar of cloth ripping. "What I'm saying, young Sandbar, is that the two of us together could create some lovely chaos." He raised a single claw. "But if you talk to Yona and bring her in on it, I'll talk to Fluttershy and bring her in on it. And the chaos the four of us can make?" A shudder shook his whole body with a sound like multiple bowling balls tumbling down a staircase. "That will be exquisite."
Frozen, Sandbar could only think that the imaginary sandbags he'd been shifting had actually been full of wet cement and had just burst all over him.
Discord flicked his claws, though, and the air went so loose around Sandbar that he nearly fell over. "Off you go, then," Discord said. "Talk to Yona, and if you still wish to avail yourselves of my services afterwards, I'll be more than happy to accommodate the both of you."
Pretty sure that he never wanted to be alone with Discord ever again for as long as he lived, Sandbar turned.
Except, of course, that it was still barely breakfast time. And he couldn't go back home till after supper, could he?
No, he could not.
A sighing breath that smelled like pancakes puffed over him. "The things I do to help out around here," he heard Discord mutter, then he found himself staring at a hole swirling open in the air ahead of him. The hole lunged forward, and before Sandbar could move, it was engulfing him in blue and green plaid light. A mountainous landscape, all red-and-white striped like a candy cane, swept by beneath his hooves, a sound like hundreds of ponies all chomping on potato chips flooding around him. A light breeze played with his mane and brought the scent of fresh laundry to his nose—
And then he was sliding across the grass of the animal sanctuary, the sun halfway behind the hills to the west. "There!" Discord said, his words trickling into Sandbar's ears. "Now you can go talk to her."
Taking off running as fast as his hooves could carry him, Sandbar still remembered to call back, "Thanks!" even though thankful was pretty much the last thing he was feeling. His stomach tight and twisting, he sprinted through Ponyville, lights on in the dining rooms of the houses he passed, shadows small and large moving over curtained windows, pony voices old and young just barely audible chatting and laughing. Kicking himself even faster, he almost wiped out taking the corner at town square and screeched to a flailing halt in front of the Boutique's door, the lights shining through the shutters here making his heart race.
Unless that was from all the running...
Either way, he pushed the door open and crashed right into Yona, apparently in the act of pulling the door open from inside. He bounced off her, of course, but he jumped back up, wrapped himself around her, and kissed her till he had to pull away gasping because he wasn't getting enough air.
"Sandbar?" Her voice, gruff and perfect and entirely hers when they were alone, had a little chuckle in it. "You okay?"
"I love you," he panted out, not opening his eyes since he was pretty sure her beauty would stopper his throat. "Even if we can't ever have kids, I'll always be yours, and you'll always be mine, and that'll be totally enough forever." He touched his lips over and over again to her snout.
Even though she wasn't moving, Yona seemed to freeze. "Can't have kids?" she asked. "Where Sandbar get that idea?"
Stopping his little kisses, he pulled back so he could blink at her. "Well? You're a yak. I'm a pony. That's, like, biology or something, right?"
A slow, sweet smile pulled at her lips. "Sandbar never studied..."
That called for more blinking. So he did.
Yona bent down and gave his snout a kiss of her own. "Sandbar sat right next to Yona in Headmare Starlight's Biomancy seminar senior year. Or is Yona mistaken?"
No, she was not, but racking his brain, all Sandbar could remember was sneaking smooches with her when Headmare Starlight wasn't looking. "Uhhh," he managed to say.
Her giggle rolled through him, still clinging to her, like the sweetest possible earthquake. "Silverstream and Gallus blushed like Northern Lights during chapter about prehistoric pegasi and griffons mating to create first hippogriffs. Sandbar not remember?"
"No, I do not," Sandbar had to admit out loud for once, slowly untangling himself and setting his hooves on the carpet. "But we've been...you know...for, like, years and years now! How come we don't have little yak-ponies everywhere?"
Her forehead wrinkled. "Yak females only fertile three days every moon. Yona make sure we not have sex those days, so we not have calves." She reached a hoof out and touched his shoulder gently. "Yona brought this up before wedding, and Sandbar agreed with Yona that it better to wait on family till business well established. Something make Sandbar think of—?" Her eyebrows went up, and her smile came back. "Ah. Sandbar hear from Tender Taps about Sweetie Belle."
Warmth spread over Sandbar, a mix of embarrassment and the desire he always felt when he looked at her. "So...you've got a plan?"
Yona nodded, but she tapped his chest a little sharply. "We have plan. Yona told Sandbar how yak-ponies only legends since yaks and ponies stopped being friends for such a long, long time, and Sandbar made joke about Professor Applejack maybe having yaks in her family. Yona then brushed up close to Sandbar..." Her eyes partway closed, she brushed up close to Sandbar. "And Yona say, 'Yona want very much to make yak-ponies with Sandbar. Very, very much. Just not yet.'" She leaned even closer to him, her voice somehow getting huskier. "And since tonight not one of Yona's three nights, maybe we get some practice in?"
Sandbar swallowed. "Well, all right," he said. "But only two or three times. We've got the big fashion show tomorrow." He couldn't help blowing out a breath. "At least I remembered that."
She shouldn't have been able to move as fast as she did, not a creature as big as Yona. But before Sandbar could blink, he found that she'd slipped underneath him, spun him around, and was trotting up the stairs with him draped across her back. "Husband always remember important things. Like that Yona love her Sandbar."
Stretching across her, Sandbar nuzzled her ear. "And Sandbar love his Yona," he murmured.