Friday Night Saturday Morning


                                            > Your job at the boutique doesn't pay by the hour

                                            > Business rises and falls often enough that a salary is necessary to keep food consistently on the table

                                            > Fridays are a little odd

                                            > The day time is filled with mending and fitting and last minute purchases

                                            > After about 6 PM it goes dead

                                            > Rarity busies herself with the commission for next week, idly swapping around bolts of cloth

                                            > By seven you have already swept the floor, organized the bobbins, and generally done everything you possibly could

                                            > You stand in the middle of the sales floor, trying to remember any other little tasks you could do

                                            > Rarity looks up from her work

                                            > " Er, Anon, what are you still doing here? It's Friday night, shouldn't you be getting ready to go out with your friends?"

                                            > You give her a rueful smile

                                            "That sounds like a fine way to pass the time, but I lack the prerequisites. Until then, hanging out in here is enough for me."

                                            > You decide to just lie down on the floor, and stifle a moan as your back straightens out

                                            > You hear the rustle of cloth and some muffled hoofsteps

                                            > "Are you comfortable like that?"

                                            > You him in affirmative, your eyes closed in contentment

                                            "Very."

                                            > After a series of scuffs and shuffles, you hear her let out a feminine sigh

                                            > You turn your head to see the fashion horse prone on her back, hooves stretched above her head

                                            > "Anonymous, darling, you never told me this was so decadent!"

                                            "Glad you like it."

                                            > You yawn and settle your back for fully onto the floor

                                            > This is nice

                                            > Your eyelids start to droop

                                            > "Anonymous, I find myself quite unwilling to move. Be a dear and hang up the closed sign, would you?"

                                            > With a grunt you get to your feet and stagger to do her bidding

                                            > After you lock the door, you lie down next to her again

                                            > That little bout of physical activity finished what had been started

                                            > Your eyes close as your breathing deepens


                                            > The morning sun percolates through the drapes, lightly warming your face

                                            > You open your eyes groggily, idly sensing something odd

                                            > Memories return as you recognize the ceiling of your workplace

                                            > The next thing to register is a warm, supple weight on your chest

                                            > You look down upon the sleeping face of Rarity, cushioned on your pectoral

                                            > Too cute

                                            > You raise a hand slowly, and lightly stroke her mane

                                            > So silky

                                            > She stirs, and you let your hand drop back to your side

                                            > You could watch those sleep-addled eyes forever

                                            > All at once she springs up off of you and takes a few steps away

                                            > She clears her throat awkwardly, a blush upon her cheeks, and for some reason she's having a hard time meeting your gaze

                                            > "Good, ah, morning, yes. Good morning Anonymous. I trust that you slept well?"

                                            > Her pupils shrink as she realizes what she said

                                            "Very well indeed, thank you."

                                            > Rarity dashes off into her bedroom, her face getting redder by the second

                                            > You rise slowly, stretching and smoothing out the wrinkles in your clothes

                                            > You amble on over to the kitchen and set about making pancakes

                                            > Some time later, Rarity emerges and pokes her head into the kitchen

                                            > "Pancakes, Anonymous? How delightfully domestic, I had no idea you could cook."

                                            > You shrug

                                            "Given that my digestive system is a bit different than most ponies, I sorta have to."

                                            > You pull out the platter of pancakes from the oven and set it on the table

                                            > It is soon joined by butter and syrup and table settings

                                            > Rarity is still having a hard time making eye contact, and breakfast passes in an awkward silence

                                            > She ends up floating the dishes to the sink

                                            > "It's the least I could do, darling."

                                            > She keeps glancing at you, to which you can only raise an inquisitive eyebrow

                                            > The last dish done, she finally faces you head on

                                            > "So who is helping you, Anonymous?"

                                            > A little puzzled at her question, you reply,

                                            "You are?"

                                            > Rarity shakes her head

                                            > "You are far too charming for me to believe you haven't been coached upon winning my affections."

                                            > You sit down heavily

                                            "You think I'm charming?"

                                            > You feel your face heat up

                                            > Her eyes widen, and a blush rises to her cheeks as well

                                            > Just then the doorbell rings

                                            > After an awkward pause, both of you get up to answer the door

                                            > A flustered glance later, you stay back and let her see who it is

                                            > Fluttershy, apparently

                                            > You hear her mumble something about a spa, and Rarity gives you an apologetic look

                                            > "Mind the store while we're gone, won't you?"

                                            > You sketch a bow

                                            "As you wish, Rarity."

                                            > She smiles a little at that, and leaves with her friend

                                            > As silence settles in the store, you know one thing

                                            > Next Friday evening will be a bit more interesting