Not Simply to


                                            >She was no longer alone.

                                            >Fluttershy had come back into her living room with the sweet tea that she had made for their talk.

                                            >She carried, on a silver tray, delicate fine white china with elegant gold lining painted on it.

                                            >Rarity smiled when she saw it, as the set had been one she had gifted to her friend long ago.

                                            >After serving her friend, Fluttershy sat across from her and, with a concerned and caring expression, said:

                                            >“Now tell me everything that’s bothering you this time, Rarity. Whenever you’re ready, that is.”

                                            >“It was last Saturday,” said Rarity. “I took him to see this lovely drama in Canterlot.”

                                            >Rarity sighed, and Fluttershy, thinking that she was hesitating, reassured her that she wanted to hear all about it.

                                            >Rarity nodded, and then told her all about the play, while Fluttershy leaned back in her seat and strained to keep worn the concerned and caring expression she had had.

                                            >Rarity was supposed to be speaking of the human, who had moved to Ponyville four months ago after living abroad for a time, and who had gone from a very good friend of hers to one that was stitched plainly on her heart for all to see.

                                            >Or, it was at least plainly enough for her female friends all to have seen.

                                            >Even Rainbow Dash, surprising to Rarity, saw enough early on to deem such developments as too girly and sappy for her to care about.

                                            >Their friendship had started innocently enough; he and Rarity shared similar tastes in art.

                                            >She was happy to have found a mind not as contained as the rest so close to her.

                                            >And he must have felt the same, for they quickly began spending their days together, talking freely about their passions.

                                            >Indeed anyone that may be looking for him was directed either to his house, or, if he was not there, to Carousel Boutique.

                                            >There he could be found eating lightly with her in the kitchen, or sitting in a remote corner of her workshop, the two of them carrying on an earlier conversation while she measured and sewed and scrutinized her latest elegant creation.

                                            >“Um, Rarity,” Fluttershy interrupted, “it sounds like a nice play, but do you think maybe you could stick to the actual story? Because, I don’t mean to seem rude, but sometimes you get too caught up in the little details of things.”

                                            >Rarity paused her monologue. She picked up her tea cup and looked inside it at her reflection.

                                            >“Well I suppose I can,” Rarity said sympathetically.

                                            >She told Fluttershy that they took a midnight carriage back to Ponyville and went back to her home for late tea.

                                            >But she mourned the little details that had been lost along the way.

                                            >She remembered how close together they sat in the carriage, her arm locked with his.

                                            >There was something he had said that had made her laugh.

                                            >From the corner of her eye, she saw his smile and his face, so pink and happy, had her nerves floating.

                                            >And of all the gems in the mines it was the stars outside their glowing carriage windows that shone like only the purest sparkling gems in her mind could.

                                            >None of this passion reached Fluttershy while she recounted that night to her, as she started to speak very theatrically, and she directed Fluttershy, with her shrewd eyes, to a setting of playfulness.

                                            >“So we were in my kitchen together,” Rarity said, “drinking tea and talking about the play late into the night. He was getting tired, but, like a nice lady, I offered to serve him one more cup before the night was ended. So I took his cup with me to the counter. And as I was talking, and serving him, I made sure to move my tail so he could see my cute little rump moving around while I was bent over.”

                                            >“Do you think he looked at your . . . ?” Fluttershy asked eagerly.

                                            >“Oh, I could tell he was looking.”

                                            >Fluttershy gasped. “You caught him?”

                                            >“When I went back to the table with his cup, he wasn’t looking at my face.”

                                            >Rarity saw need to explain further.

                                            >“Gentleman can be very awkward when they’re having lusty thoughts of the lady in company, especially if they’re unsure as to whether she is aware that they’re having them.”

                                            >“Is it really so easy for others to see it when you’re having naughty thoughts?” Fluttershy asked a bit anxiously.

                                            >“Well, I happen to have an eye for it,” she said; then, following in a certain tone, “darling.”

                                            >Fluttershy smiled nervously and began to sip her tea; she started slurping when the silence of the room seemed to grow along with her body’s temperature.

                                            >“So, after I had done that,” Rarity said, “and after I had told him where he could find the spare pillows and blankets, I placed my hoof on his arm and told him that I had had an awfully wonderful evening with him.”

                                            >Rarity raised her voice like it was a call. “I told him that the guest bedroom, unfortunately, was simply not an option for him at the moment.”

                                            >“You said that?”

                                            >“Well more or less, darling. Either way, I was sure to make it clear to him that there was only one bedroom in my home that was available to him that night, and that was my bedroom.”

                                            >“What did he do?”

                                            >“Darling,” Rarity said, “I was already headed up the stairs by this time. He needed some time to think about what I’d just given him.”

                                            >“You’re so charming, Rarity,” Fluttershy said admiringly. “It’s no wonder why stallions fall all over themselves for you.”

                                            >“Any pony can be charming, darling,” Rarity said. “What’s really important is attraction. Attract them, and that’s how you keep some pony thinking of you.”

                                            >“Some ponies can do that without trying though,” Fluttershy said self-consciously, “like you. And like Rainbow Dash.”

                                            >Rarity scrunched her muzzle, but Fluttershy did not notice and went on, speaking in a reflective tone.

                                            >“Everypony at our Cloudsdale Flight School reunion remembered her, and they all came to our table to talk to her, to impress her actually, I think . . .”

                                            >Rarity listened politely, waiting for her to finish, but behind her patient smile she felt annoyed that Fluttershy would compare her charms with Dash’s.

                                            >Dash had talents, certainly, and there were many ponies that revered her for them, but one could not exactly call her charming.

                                            >She was all attitude.

                                            >There were no subtleties in her conduct with other ponies.

                                            >She was brash, conceited, arrogant and completely lacking in self-awareness; and any charm she might have had ceased to exist to anyone who held a view of her as being simply average.

                                            >Rarity also disliked how close Dash had become with the human over time.

                                            >They had an active relationship together, sharing loves of sporting and competition and physical fitness.

                                            >She understood that right now, as she spoke with Fluttershy, they were running together on the Running of the Leaves course.

                                            >It seemed that any time that he did not spend with her now was usually spent with Rainbow Dash.

                                            >Why of all her friends it had to be Rainbow Dash he chose as another close friend she did not know.

                                            >But she was sure that he could not have picked a more inconvenient pony for her to be competing against for his attention if he had tried, for Rainbow Dash had absolutely no romantic inclinations at all.

                                            >In all her years of being surrounded by admirers she had never even been on a date before.

                                            >Rarity looked up from under her brow at Fluttershy, who was leaned forward in her seat, waiting for her to continue.

                                            >“Did he go in your room?” Fluttershy asked.

                                            >“Let me tell you about my vision,” Rarity said, looking boldly forward.

                                            >“In my bedroom, I set the scene perfectly. I lit cinnamon candles and made sure that the flames led his eye to my silken-draped bed, where I was laid, bare and inviting, in the center of warm romantic haze. I leaned on my elbow and watched the door, waiting.”

                                            >“Did he come inside?” Fluttershy said.

                                            >“He did,” Rarity said. “He came in, holding a pillow and some blankets, and he looked at me. He looked right at me, Fluttershy. He came to me, walked to the side of my bed . . .”

                                            >Rarity looked down.

                                            >“And then he laid himself down on the floor and said ‘Good night, Rarity’.”

                                            >Rarity began to pout. Fluttershy’s enthusiasm deflated away.

                                            >“Then he went to sleep,” Rarity said.

                                            >She sighed, tired at the memory.

                                            >“Honestly, I didn’t know whether I should smother him with my pillow or just jump down there with him until he got the hint.”

                                            >Fluttershy, looking down, swiftly upturned her shocking eyes to meet Rarity’s, who, embarrassed and reddening by her careless remark, quickly threw some humor in the air to detract from it.

                                            >“Oh, but listen to me talking like a harlot,” she said.

                                            >“It’s okay, Rarity,” Fluttershy said.

                                            >“But it’s not right,” Rarity said. “Even in adolescence I never spoke that way, and I’ve no reason to act as though I never grew up.”

                                            >“I know. But that’s okay. I understand why you’d feel that way.”

                                            >Rarity, annoyed by the impression she’d given Fluttershy, suppressed the urge to somehow justify aloud her use of such abrupt brazenness and internalized the pain of her pride.

                                            >For she realized, with some shame, that with that remark she had told the truth about how she had really felt that night.

                                            >She was unsatisfied and her memory ached as she recalled her restlessness at listening to his nearby breathing from under her lonely covers.

                                            >She looked down into her teacup and made the tea whirlpool gently inside it.

                                            >“What’s embarrassing is he wasn’t even there in the morning either. He did put away neatly the bed sheets and pillows that he took though. That was nice of him. He’s good about noticing things about me that I want gentleman to notice. He used to go out of his way to compliment me on whatever I was wearing. Not generic compliments either, but intelligent and specific ones about how this jewelry or that complimented my dress. Isn’t that sweet of him?”

                                            >Rarity sighed and turned her chin up to look at Fluttershy.

                                            >“I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong.”

                                            >Fluttershy, with a tentative expression, said:

                                            >“Do you think maybe . . . because he’s human . . .?”

                                            >“No, no,” Rarity said dismissively. “He told me once about this little crush he had on Fleur-De-Lis.”

                                            >Rarity took a short drink of tea.

                                            >“But that was ages ago,” Rarity said. “And I’m not worried about him liking anypony else or anything like that. We’ve been together so long and I’ve put in so much. He has to know now how I feel for him.”

                                            >“Well you have been hinting at it for about a month now, and he still hasn’t said anything.”

                                            >“It isn’t easy,” Rarity said. “For a lady cannot call on any gentleman so plainly. If she is to have any success at finding true love, then she has to do all she can to attract her stallion, to make him come to her. It doesn’t work the other way.”

                                            >She stared silently into her tea cup and then, finishing it, stood up.

                                            >“I should go,” Rarity said. “I ran into him unexpectedly at the market yesterday. We talked briefly, nothing about that night, of course. And now we have an engagement at the Reign-In Café for this afternoon.”

                                            >She was a white speck in the eye by the time Fluttershy moved the curtains from her window and watched her friend as she walked down the dirt road leading to town.


                                            >Rarity had left her home and was now going to the café.

                                            >Besides her saddlebags, she was wearing a soft vanilla gardening sunhat, which had a light magenta sash wrapped neatly around its smooth head, while over her eyes were large honeycomb sunglasses with violet lenses, and a white cotton neckerchief with pink stripes running up and across it was tied in a loose knot that hung over her chest.

                                            >She thrusted through the crowds of errand-minded ponies filling the streets with her head held high, feeling elevated by her design.

                                            >No pony was dressed as well as she was if they were even dressed at all.

                                            >But she did feel somewhat sorry for the less attractive ponies that she noticed.

                                            >She passed by Carrot Top, who sold carrots by the side of the road out a pea green cart, and felt her heart swell at the sight of her hooves, which were the color of applesauce and seemed to be forever stained by years of turning up the earth.

                                            >When Rarity reached the café she was seen to immediately by a friendly waitress who knew her as a regular.

                                            >They lightly trotted their way through the busy aisles of the outdoor patio.

                                            >When she was seated she had to speak up so that the waitress could hear her properly as the normally still and poised air of the café was gone thanks to the crowd of weekend ponies seated around them.

                                            >While she waited for him she pulled out from her saddlebags her most recent romance annual that she’d received in the mail that month: a novel called Desert Rose.

                                            >It was a western romance about the pairing of a wandering gunslinger stallion and a lonely farm mare.

                                            >Both of them felt something incomplete in their lives before, under the most exciting and passionate circumstances, they met each other.

                                            >By the book’s end they were hopelessly in love and were preparing for their eventual wedding.

                                            >This was Rarity’s prediction as to what would happen anyway.

                                            >She’d only just started reading the book two days ago and was only halfway done with it.

                                            >Something in the distance caught her eye.

                                            >She peered over her book and looked towards the end of the street to see his long form jogging her way.

                                            >Rainbow Dash was hovering by his shoulder and they were trying to pass each other.

                                            >She took dull brief note of his athletic-minded attire before hiding her eyes behind her book, as they were both now close enough to notice her.

                                            >Soon she could hear both their strained wheezy voices and heavy labored breathing.

                                            >“Well I sure whooped you out on the track today,” Dash said.

                                            Cut me some slack. I’m out of your weight class by a few pounds you know.

                                            >He gave her a light push which she returned after rebounding in the air, and soon they were both pushing each other playfully and laughing.

                                            >Rarity then heard her name called by Dash and, putting her book down, saw that her friend was waving to her and waved back.

                                            >Dash did not follow as the human stepped easily over the steel black gate that separated the outdoor café from the street.

                                            >He was greeted immediately by the waitress that served Rarity and told that his chair would be gotten for him.

                                            >He needed bigger furniture than others and some of the restaurants that he frequented were happy to accommodate him in this service.

                                            >He approached the table and, bending at knee, greeted Rarity.

                                            >She noticed the warm-smelling sweat melting down over his flushed cheeks and dry lips, so inappropriate for their current setting, and tried not to let on to the displeasure she felt had caked like dirt onto her own skin.

                                            >The waitress carried the folded metal chair across her back and maneuvered deftly past fast-stepping servers and the tight gaps the customers had made in the aisles until she reached him.

                                            >He plucked the chair off of her and, looking over the café environment briefly, unfolded the chair and placed it to the right of Rarity so that his back was towards the fence.

                                            >His knees reached over the table when he sat down and were visible on opposite sides of it like they were two rounded bookends.

                                            >He asked for some ice water followed by a fruit punch with an orange slice grasping the rim of the glass.

                                            >Rarity made sure to smile at him once they were both alone.

                                            >Their eyes met briefly. Then he turned and looked distantly towards the street.

                                            >“So what have you been doing with yourself all this week?” she said to him. “I haven’t seen you at all.”

                                            Nothing much. I sold some paintings for a partner of mine. I’d rather not have, though. It was horrible abstract stuff, trying too hard to be poetic. You know the type.

                                            >She shrugged amiably.

                                            >The waitress had brought him his water and he was sipping it. When he put it down, he said:

                                            Business as usual. I did see an old Wonderbolts movie with Dash, though.

                                            >His eyes seemed to look her over. He spoke with a smirk:

                                            I know what you’ve been doing, though. My darling, you have been indulging in some fantasies, right?

                                            >Rarity’s heart flinched until she saw he was pointing at her romance novel which she had left on the table.

                                            You’re still reading that rotten spinster fluff? he said incredulously. And here I thought you were an artist, Rarity. You know those books can barely even be called written. The author photo on the back is just for show.

                                            >“Yes, darling,” she said, “and I suppose that you and Dash running around with tights on in your backyard is the epitome of high culture.”

                                            You can’t attack professional wrestling, darling. Or should I call you, Diamante Elegante.

                                            >“I only did that to help a friend,” she said, “and because I looked fabulous in that costume.”

                                            >They were silent now as the waitress had brought him his fruit punch and Rarity her herbal tea.

                                            >As he threw his head back in the act of drinking, Rarity was able to tuck her book away in her saddlebag without him noticing.

                                            >When he had finished his eyes looked over her complimentarily from her neck to her face and then into her own eyes.

                                            Any plans of yours for us this weekend? I’ve got no business to attend to if you do.

                                            >Rarity frowned. “This time I’m afraid that I have some orders I need to finish . . .”

                                            >He shrugged indifferently.

                                            Well maybe next time then.

                                            >“That is to say, I wouldn’t mind meeting sometime tomorrow for lunch, if I can get the necessary reservations.”

                                            >He held a hand up towards her apologetically.

                                            It’s okay if you’re too busy to get together, Rarity. You don’t have to go out of your way to please me.

                                            >“Oh, but I want to, darling,” she said. “I enjoy our time together immensely. Think of this as for my benefit, okay?”

                                            >With eager eyes of intent, Rarity looked hopefully up towards his until he felt helplessly his own smile stretching over him.

                                            Well, if it’s for your benefit, then sure.

                                            >“I knew you couldn’t resist,” she playfully intoned, while he sipped his drink.

                                            >She watched him briefly as he bit the orange peel and, pulling it off of the glass, dropped it over his ice.

                                            So forgive me if I’m psychic, he said while prodding his orange slice with his straw. But would one of these orders of yours happen to be for a wedding dress?

                                            >“Me? Goodness no! Why do you ask?”

                                            It’s just that Dash and I, while we were running, we saw Applejack, and she told us that Carrot Top is getting married next Sunday.

                                            >Rarity flicked her ears his way. “Really?”

                                            Yeah, to some stallion I guess she knows in Appleloosa. I don’t know everything. Applejack only just heard it from a friend of hers.

                                            >“Well isn’t that lovely? I suppose I might be getting that order in soon.”

                                            >A comfortable silence drifted in which she accepted.

                                            >She stared down at the pattern on their black metal table, looking through the little holes shaped like diamonds at the ground below.

                                            >She was thirsty but suddenly felt she was queasy when she reached for her drink.

                                            >When he said something finally she had to ask him to repeat himself.

                                            I said that Dash wanted to talk to you.

                                            >Rarity looked past him and saw that Dash was standing outside the gate.

                                            >She had a distant gaze on her face as though she was anxious to be somewhere else right then.

                                            >“What’s she doing out there?”

                                            I was supposed to send you to her. She’s too embarrassed to meet with us in here. We’re not cool to her you know.

                                            >He smirked and made a circle gesture with one finger pointed upwards which highlighted the café surrounding them.

                                            >Then he stood up and said:

                                            While you two are having your girl talk, I think I’ll go and wash this sweat and dust off of me.

                                            >“But we only just arrived. Please don’t, darling.”

                                            I’ll be here when you get back. I’m sure that whatever Dash has to say to you won’t take too long. Not with her.

                                            >Rarity watched him maneuver carefully past the café ponies and then go inside.

                                            >She paid for their drinks and explained the situation with the waitress before meeting Rainbow Dash out in the street.

                                            >“Finally, you’re here,” Dash said, following an exaggerated groan. “What kept you?”

                                            >“I came as soon as I was told you wished to speak to me,” Rarity said.

                                            >Dash looked at where he had been sat, and she pulled her brow down in annoyance.

                                            >“Well I told him I wanted to talk to you right away. Figures he’d keep me waiting like that.”

                                            >“I’m sure it was my fault,” Rarity said. “I keep him talking. You could have joined us, you know?”

                                            >Dash nodded towards the table and said solemnly:

                                            >“Actually, this is kind of private, just between us, talk. Mind if we go once around the block?”

                                            >Rarity was surprised by her friend’s manner, but she agreed and wondered just what this private matter was and why he could not hear Dash speak of it.

                                            >Her heart trembled when she wondered if maybe it was about him.

                                            >Perhaps he had told Dash something private of his own, something about her that was so important that Dash now felt compelled to share with her in spite of her own squeamishness for all things emotional.

                                            >They kept a good pace and soon they passed out of bounds of the café.

                                            >She looked at her friend excitedly.

                                            >Dash leaned in close, her face reflecting her enthusiasm, and her eyebrows were lifting up over her eyes.

                                            >“So I heard the two of you finally spent the night together,” she said playfully. “That only took, like, what, a month?”

                                            >Rarity scrunched her muzzle while Dash snickered.

                                            >“We spent the evening together,” Rarity clarified, “as we usually do.”

                                            >“As we usually do is right,” Dash said.

                                            >“Did you have something that you wished to say, or are you only here to mock me as any good friend would?”

                                            >Dash looked at her with soft eyes. “I was just joking around. Lighten up a little, Rarity. We’re friends. I’m not trying to hurt your feelings here.”

                                            >“You did not hurt my feelings,” Rarity said. “You said that you wanted to speak to me.”

                                            >“Yeah, look, I want to sort of ask you something as a friend, but keep it just between us—okay?” Dash said.

                                            >“Then it will stay between us,” Rarity said. She looked over at her friend. “What did you want to ask?”

                                            >Dash hesitated for a moment. Then she sighed and said:

                                            >“Why haven’t you asked him out yet?”

                                            >“Oh, is that all you want to know?”

                                            >“Well, yeah. I mean what’s the hold up with you and him anyway?”

                                            >Rarity looked over the rim of her glasses at Dash. “Why are you interested all of a sudden?”

                                            >“I want to know because it seems to be all our friends have wanted to talk about this past month. You even got Applejack to start gossiping. I can’t do anything anymore without having to hear about how little progress you’re making.”

                                            >Rarity watched with one eyebrow raised as Dash turned away from her and, opening her mouth and sticking her tongue out, pretended to purge herself.

                                            >Rarity turned away halfway through her friend’s act.

                                            >“Are you finished? . . . Well I should have you know that I am indeed making progress in furthering my relationship with him. It may not be as fast as you’d wish it to be, but it is progress.”

                                            >“Yeah? Well maybe I can help—I mean help in some way without any pony knowing about it. What have you been doing anyway?”

                                            >Rarity was annoyed that Dash was asking her to explain, and no doubt defend, her romantic methods.

                                            >But her friend’s eyes were so serious and she seemed so earnest that Rarity just did not have the heart to simply dismiss her, not even politely.

                                            >So she started to speak of some of the things that they had done together.

                                            >She made sure to point out all the little details, exchanges and glances that they had given each other which she felt confirmed that they shared a mutual affection that was greater than friendship.

                                            >But she also spoke knowing that Dash could not possibly hear all that she was really saying and she was sure that at some point she was going to be interrupted.

                                            >Moments later it happened.

                                            >“Can I say something?” Dash said. “Look, Rarity, if you’re waiting for him to ask you out, then it’s not going to happen. I know you think he’s smart because he’s a bigshot art dealer in Canterlot, but let’s face it: he really isn’t all that bright in other departments. All I’m saying is that if you think he’s picking up on any of these little things you’re hinting at him, I’ll bet he isn’t.”

                                            >Rarity listened to all of this with a calm face but inside she was seething at Dash’s ignorance and was straining herself to keep back what she felt was an emotional outburst trying to push its way through her chest.

                                            >“I don’t see how you would know that,” Rarity said slowly.

                                            >Dash looked at her quizzically. “Well I know him pretty well, seeing as how I’m his best friend.”

                                            >Rarity stopped walking just as they were about to round the corner back to where they started.

                                            >Dash, ahead of her slightly, looked over her shoulder at the sour face of her friend.

                                            >“Rainbow Dash,” Rarity said, “I do not need any help from you in my love affairs.”

                                            >Dash flinched at the sternness of her voice but recovered quickly.

                                            >“You don’t have to bite my head off, Rarity. I was only trying to help.”

                                            >“And yet you know nothing about . . .” Rarity stopped herself. “I appreciate you wanting to help now, but I shan’t need it. The affair is not as simple as you view it.”

                                            >“Fine. Okay, Rarity. Whatever you say.”

                                            >“I’m in love, but I wouldn’t expect you to understand that,” Rarity said bitterly. “I don’t need any help from you in my love affairs.”

                                            >“You think that you know him so much better than every pony else,” Dash said.

                                            >She waited briefly for a response that Rarity never indulged her in.

                                            >“Well you’re wrong. I don’t even think he likes you the way you want him to, the way he told me he liked Spitfire last week.”

                                            >“Oh, listen to yourself for once. Do you even hear how petty you’re coming across at this moment?”

                                            >“Petty! Hey, I’m not the one who has the problem here.”

                                            >“You don’t understand it. You don’t understand anything.”

                                            >Dash’s face was rising in color of her blood, showing faintly in patches on her cheeks.

                                            >She flew down and stood close to Rarity.

                                            >“Right, cause it’s, like, so hard to just ask somebody out on a date—especially a good friend. Am I right?”

                                            >“Well you wouldn’t know.”

                                            >“Well what if I did know? What if I asked him out myself and showed you just how not big a deal it is?”

                                            >“I can’t believe you . . . Fine then. You have my permission,” Rarity said judgingly. “But don’t be mad at me if you end up embarrassing yourself.”

                                            >Rainbow Dash’s furrowed brow sunk its last bit lower in determined anger.

                                            >Then before anyone could see it she had turned and went round the corner, leaving only a fading rainbow trail and the swift sound of the air passing behind her.

                                            >Rarity blinked for a moment and then trotted after her.

                                            >She watched from the gate as Rainbow Dash hovered above the café customers.

                                            >Rarity hid herself in the crowd, taking a seat near some very busy tables.

                                            >But just as Dash flew down to stand by his side, she decided to move in on them.

                                            Dash? Where did you come from? he said whilst looking up from where she had descended.

                                            >He had finished his punch and was busy pushing the orange slice down beneath the ice in his glass with his straw.

                                            And where’s Rarity?

                                            >“She’ll be back. She had to do something. Look, I need to ask you something—what are you doing here?” Dash said upon seeing Rarity standing across the table from her.

                                            Oh, you’re back.

                                            >“Indeed. And as for why I’m here, I believe that I had a previous arrangement to be here.”

                                            >Dash glared as Rarity sat down and, leaning on her elbow, looked boldly forward, with a small, confident smile.

                                            >Dash turned back to him just as the waitress arrived.

                                            >“Could you reheat this for me please?” Rarity said, pointing to her herbal tea.

                                            >The waitress gathered the cup. “Would you like anything, miss?” she asked Dash.

                                            >“No, no,” Dash said, waving her away.

                                            >“I believe you mean to say no thank you, darling,” Rarity said.

                                            >“Whatever.”

                                            It was kind of rude.

                                            >“Well she interrupted me when I was trying to ask you a question.”

                                            >“There’s no excuse for rudeness,” Rarity said.

                                            >“Look can I get a chance to speak here?”

                                            >“Certainly. Don’t let me stop you.”

                                            >Dash blew hot air out of her nostrils towards Rarity. Then, turning determinedly, she spoke to him:

                                            >“I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out with me this weekend.”

                                            >He answered slowly as her serious manner seemed inappropriate and was off-putting.

                                            Sure, Dash. I’d like that. Rarity, were we doing anything?

                                            >“Yes, we’re having lunch tomorrow. I forgot to tell Rainbow Dash. Sorry, Rainbow Dash.”

                                            >“I don’t mean it like that,” Dash said.

                                            >There was a pause on all sides.

                                            >Rarity noticed that Rainbow Dash was fidgeting in her seat, and that it was not out of restlessness but out of fear.

                                            >She stopped smiling, sat up straight and watched Dash earnestly.

                                            >Finally Dash found courage to look boldly in his eyes and she said:

                                            >“It’d be a real date, to see if we liked each other . . . you know . . . Well you know what I mean anyway.”

                                            Dash, what are you trying to say?

                                            >Dash looked away and blocked his stiffening face by hiding her face behind her defensive left side.

                                            >Just when it seemed he was about to say something the waitress came back with Rarity’s reheated herbal tea.

                                            >She looked into her cup for a time. Then, after a small sip, she put it down and said:

                                            >“What I think Rainbow Dash is trying to say is that she is interested if whether some deeper feelings exist between the two of you, and that she would very much like and appreciate a time set aside for you both to explore such feelings together.”

                                            >They both stared at her with slack faces.

                                            >Dash’s mouth was gaping and his eyes were frozen open, but Rarity simply stared back at them and told them not to shoot the messenger; and a broad smile opened on her own face shortly after she had said that.

                                            >He spoke to Dash unsurely:

                                            So you want to go on a date with me?

                                            >“That’s literally what I said to you, you big dummy.  . . . So what do you say?”

                                            >He looked out at the street as though deep in thought but Rarity could see now that he was just hesitant to answer.

                                            >She could read the uncomfortable body language of his wayward eyes and his clenched sinking shoulders.

                                            >He was distant from the both of them, and she could feel him drifting away from her.

                                            >She knew his answer before he ever said a word.

                                            >But hearing his voice speak to Dash as he explained to her why he thought good friends should not date each other, hearing his lack of sensitivity and passion, she felt for the first time the barrenness of the space where she thought their souls had lived all this time.

                                            >When she could no longer hear their voices she realized that they were both watching her, that they both could tell what it was she was feeling.

                                            >She saw the pity that they felt for her in their eyes.

                                            >She felt it was too much and, right when they reached out to her, she stepped out of her seat and ran out of the café, pushing her way past any pony that was blocking her exit.

                                            >Some of the cafegoers had noticed Rarity’s abrupt exit, but none knew of the pain she was in.

                                            >To them it looked as though she had forgotten something at home or was late for an appointment.

                                            >All but two had forgotten about it within a minute.


                                            >They broke out from a jog into a full-blown race, with both of them thinking that they had won when they reached the purple doors of the boutique moments later.

                                            >For a while they sat down to catch their breath.

                                            >Then they opened the door slowly and went inside.

                                            >As they moved up the stairs they could hear Rarity’s heaving, overpowering sobs from behind the walls.

                                            >By the time they reached the top of the stairs they were both careful of making any noise and had begun stepping softly on their tips.

                                            >When they reached Rarity’s door they looked at each other, both of them wincing as they could hear Rarity tossing and turning on her bed.

                                            >Dash nodded towards the door, urging him to knock.

                                            >He pursed his lips and made some gestures indicating that the responsibility should fall first to her.

                                            >A brief and tense nonverbal argument followed. By the time he had held his hands up, and Dash was nodding towards the door again, Rarity’s sobs had quieted.

                                            >They could only faintly hear her sniffling when he gently rapped on the door.

                                            Rarity?

                                            >There was no answer.

                                            You left your saddlebags at the café. I brought them back. I got them right here with me.

                                            >She did not answer right away. They could hear her wiping her face and her nose first.

                                            >“Leave them on your way out, please,” she said.

                                            >He was about to do so, until Rainbow Dash noticed the listless expression he was getting.

                                            >She sternly pointed towards the door, and he refocused himself.

                                            Look, can’t I bring them in to you?

                                            >“No. No, I just wish to be alone right now.”

                                            After you left Dash told me about the fight you two had, and how it was about me. I know everything now. I have a lot that I want to make up with you for.

                                            >There was no answer. Dash nodded again and he said:

                                            If you want maybe I can make some plans for us to meet somewhere later on where we could talk. But I have to come in.

                                            >Rarity was silent. He turned to Rainbow Dash only to see that she looked as lost as he did.

                                            >He dropped the saddlebags by the door.

                                            >A thudding noise came from something inside it when it hit the floorboards.

                                            Look, it’s up to you. If you want me to leave, then I will. But right now I’m here, and I’m trying, and I’m sorry. And if there’s something that you want me to do for you that can make it all right between us, then I’m here to do it.

                                            >He and Rainbow Dash watched the door in silence.

                                            >After a while they heard the click of the doorknob and saw it turning, and he door opened up slightly leaving only a dark crack between him and her.

                                            >He carefully pushed the door open on the tips of his fingers.

                                            >Once he was in the shaded room he put the door back the way it’d been left, slightly open.

                                            >He turned around and saw Rarity was sat on the side of her bed.

                                            >She had on her pink robe, but in the darkness it looked grey, and so did her running eyes, which were staring down at a dark shadow that was on the floor.

                                            >He looked around for a seat.

                                            >“Come, sit here,” she said.

                                            >She had moved over on the bed, making room for him to sit next to her.

                                            >Her horn began to glow while he was crossing the room and all around him little flames were coming to life.

                                            >It was the candles that she had placed so meticulously a week ago and that she had never had the heart to put away.

                                            >Soon the room was glowing.

                                            >One of the corners of the bed folded up when he sat down.

                                            >He kept his arms rigid and his palms placed flat against his thighs.

                                            >Rarity scooted closer to him.

                                            >He felt his heart shaking warmly in its place as she wrapped her arms around his, pressing her cheek against his bicep.

                                            >He said her name quietly as his voice was slightly embarrassed.

                                            >“I know,” she said. “It’s nothing.”

                                            >She carried such a respectful tone that it was all she had needed to say to ease him.

                                            >Eventually, with a sigh, she let go.

                                            >“I wish you had come a little later. I look awful.”

                                            >He weakly protested at first but she would not hear of it. Finally, he simply said:

                                            Maybe you could put the candles out.

                                            >“I happen to like the way you look in candlelight, and that’s a benefit, because I don’t think you know just how much I’d like to hit you right now.”

                                            I guess I know what you mean.

                                            >She did not respond and he felt awkward in the silence.

                                            Look, I really am sorry. You know that, right?

                                            >“Oh, it’s my fault. Rainbow Dash was right. If I had just been more forward I would not have wasted so much of our time pining for something that wasn’t there.”

                                            No, I’m the one that wasn’t forward. I knew that you liked me.

                                            >She turned full to him. “You knew? You knew and never said anything to me?”

                                            Well I was trying to think of how I was going to tell you to let you down easy. I spent quite a few days thinking on it.

                                            >She stared at his serious wayward expression with her face curved in an irritated frown.

                                            >He turned when her horn started to glow just in time to be blinded by one of her pillows.

                                            >The pillow tumbled down the front of his body and landed on his lap.

                                            >As he put it behind him he noticed Rarity was staring at some of the candles before her.

                                            >He was looking at her now, in her contemplative mood.

                                            You’re not too mad, are you?

                                            >“It’s nice to know you would have told me eventually,” she said distantly. “You would have been my first. Special somepony, I mean.”

                                            What? Me? Rarity, you’ve got to be kidding.

                                            >She was silent.

                                            >She changed her position to him on the bed to a more open one and then raised her eyes to meet his; and they were gently wet, like melted wax collecting in the center of a burning candle.

                                            >“I want your opinion on something. Maybe it’s a silly question, but if circumstances had been kinder, if things had been better, could we have had something more between us?”

                                            It’s better not to think about that kind of stuff, or it’ll drive you crazy.

                                            >“I still think that we’re really the best for each other.”

                                            I don’t know. Maybe I could’ve been better.

                                            >“You? Darling, trust me when I say that there is no one better.”

                                            Even though I didn’t do right all this time?

                                            >“It’s not all your fault. I could have been better myself.”

                                            No, Rarity. You couldn’t have been better if you had tried.

                                            >“But I still failed.”

                                            We still failed.

                                            >“So it never could have worked then.”

                                            I guess not.

                                            >“I guess not.”

                                            I don’t think that means we still aren’t the best for each other, though.

                                            >“I suppose that it does not have to mean that, does it?”

                                            >He did not answer.

                                            >Light from the hall came flooding in behind them as Rainbow Dash scanned the glowing room.

                                            >“I’m not interrupting anything, right?” she said.

                                            She came here with me, he said to Rarity.

                                            >They both got up off of the bed and met her at the door.

                                            >Rainbow Dash and Rarity faced each other.

                                            >“Rarity, I’m sorry for the stupid way that I acted today.”

                                            >“No, no,” Rarity said, “I feel that I deserved it. Can you possibly forgive me for saying those nasty things to you earlier?”

                                            >“Sure. Let’s just forget about it. Friends?”

                                            >Rainbow Dash held her hoof out for Rarity to bump, which she did.

                                            >“Friends, darling.”

                                            Are you two having a moment? Should I leave?

                                            >Rainbow Dash sighed irritably. “No, we are not having a moment.”

                                            >Then she stepped back, and sternly said, “And if either of you tell any pony that I got involved in this sappy little thing of ours, I’ll make you sorry. Got it?”

                                            >Neither he nor Rarity looked at each other, but they could feel that they were sharing an eye roll all the same.

                                            Don’t worry, Dash.

                                            >“We wouldn’t think of doing anything to harm your reputation,” Rarity said.

                                            >Rainbow Dash looked at them both. Soon she had a small and self-aware smile on.

                                            >“Look, I’m serious, though. Don’t tell anypony.” She pointed at him. “If you do, then I’ll rut his brains out just to be a jerk.”

                                            >He pursed his lips.

                                            Come on, Dash. Is this really the best time to joke about that?

                                            >“Who’s joking?” she said.

                                            >She turned her body to the side and, looking up at him, ran a hoof alongside her dock.

                                            >“You can’t tell me that, just because we’re friends and all, you really never thought of getting some of this, because I won’t believe that.”

                                            >He looked nervously over at Rarity only to see that she was already watching him and waiting to see his reaction.

                                            >She was giggling silently into her hoof. He began to fidget where he was standing.

                                            Let’s not get into that. Both of you are great girls, okay?

                                            >“Oh, is that so?” Rarity said.

                                            >She and Rainbow Dash were looking at each other in a shrewd and certain way.

                                            What?

                                            >“Nothing,” Rarity said. “It’s good to know that you think so highly of us both.”

                                            >Rarity brushed up against his leg.

                                            >“Let me ask you, darling. If circumstances were different, and you had not been good friends with either of us, then tell me, which of us would you have chosen to be your special somepony?”

                                            >“Hey, that’s a good question,” Dash said.

                                            No, it’s not.

                                            >She brushed up against his other leg.

                                            >He saw a determined look on her face when she looked up at him.

                                            >“Sure it is,” she said, “seeing as how we’re all friends again.”

                                            >“Yes, I’d rather like to know which of us you’d have chosen,” Rarity said.

                                            >He was starting to sweat now as both of them were caressing the side of his waist with her cheeks.

                                            >He knew that there was no right answer and was looking for an opportunity to escape.

                                            >“Come on, hurry up,” Dash said.

                                            >“Well?” Rarity said expectantly. “We’re waiting.”

                                            >Finally his chance had come. He leaped out from between them and ran out the door.

                                            >He called out behind him:

                                            See you tomorrow, Rarity.

                                            >“Oh, yes, darling,” she said loudly. “Thank you for visiting.”

                                            >Rainbow Dash, watching the door where he’d ran out, was laughing so hard that her sides had begun to come undone and she had to hold her stomach with one arm.

                                            >“I think we might have overwhelmed him,” Rarity said.

                                            >“He’ll be fine,” Rainbow Dash said. “Look, you want to hang out sometime this weekend? It feels like we haven’t seen each other in weeks.”

                                            >“And that’s because we haven’t,” Rarity said.

                                            >She leaned towards Dash and raised her eyebrows suggestively. “Spa date?”

                                            >“Well, that sounds kind of girly, but I guess you talked me into it.”

                                            >They hugged and then made plans for that Sunday.

                                            >After Rainbow Dash had left Rarity brought her saddlebags into her room.

                                            >She kept her candles lit, laid down in her bed, with all of her pillows against the headboard, pulled the covers up to her chest, and then spent the rest of her evening finishing her latest novel.

                                            >Even though her prediction had been wrong by the end, of all the hundreds of books like it that she had read, she never read one that she liked better for the rest of her life.