[WIP] Clerical Has Her Hearth Warmed


                                            >Be Clerical Task, though most ponies just call you Submit because that's what they do with you.

                                            >It's your job to collate all the forms with all that information for Santa Pone but every time you go to the discussion threads, you're a little disappointed to see everypony talking about 'hitting' you.

                                            >Is it because you're not working hard or fast enough? Some ponies said they didn't hear back yet and okay, maybe you haven't got around to dealing with every last form but you're doing all this on your own!

                                            >Everypony has their hobbies and interests, all the lovely gifts they've received in the past and what they're hoping for this year, if they want to send cards all over Equestria, and if they're the extra kind types who'll help out somepony that was tricked.

                                            >There's honestly just so much information to track and properly sort, it's almost like a second job at times.

                                            >Root Tapper always asked why you looked so glum on the evenings you could spare the time to unwind with a cold mug after work.

                                            >Then he'd ask you why you kept doing it, seeing as this isn't your job and you're not getting paid for it.

                                            >You wished, so badly, you could tell him all the details. All the kind words shared privately, encouragement, reassurances, the jokes, the warmth. The hope.

                                            >But ponies were placing their trust in you.

                                            >They shared so much of themselves with you.

                                            >In their own way, every pony involved brought a little more cheer to you with it.

                                            >And that's what puts a smile on your face again.

                                            >They're probably just joking about 'hitting' you!

                                            >Hah. Hitting on you, more like!

                                            >Well...

                                            >Okay, you're... not really that much to look at but who's to say at least some of them don't like you in that way?

                                            >There was that cute mare who kept coming back before she left her forms, every time she'd take one look at you, squeak, and then rush off.

                                            >Then there was that smooth, suave stallion who strolled right up to your desk and gave you his forms, with the most elegant hoof-writing, and a wink and a smile.

                                            >Not to mention that tired-looking mare who kept calling by to amend her forms because she forgot some piece of information she believes could be of use.

                                            >Maybe... maybe you should get some mistletoe? Signups are almost closed but that just means it's your last chance for some holiday romance.

                                            >Any minute now your dream pony might just come walking through that door.

                                            >Like that pony who's been hemming and hawing just outside.

                                            >Oh, well, he's actually pretty cute, honestly.

                                            >And it's not the first time he's stopped by, arrested by indecision.

                                            >Ohhh, just come inside!

                                            >It's warm and welcoming and you'll love every second of it!

                                            >W-Wait... you mean being part of the event!

                                            >Oh no, he's coming!

                                            >"Hello? I'm here for—"

                                            "I-I wasn't thinking about fucking you!"

                                            >Nice one, Clerical. Looks like it's another Hearth's Warming alone for you.

                                            >And he was a cute one, too...


                                            >Be Clerical Task again, sitting at your computer and hovering over that big 'Submit' button.

                                            >Not the one for the Secret Santa! Ho mare, there's no way you're up for getting more involved in it than just handling the submissions!

                                            >Nope, right now you're browsing Naughty Kirin - the latest and greatest site set up by the fine, perverted minds of Manehatten to deliver personal pony pleasure perfectly packed and properly private.

                                            >But it's not your fault, darnit! It's that cute stallion who called by the office earlier this evening!

                                            >You've met a lot of nervous ponies during your volunteering for the project so you have the experience in helping put them at ease about the whole thing. Sadly the same tactic didn't work on yourself.

                                            >Getting talking to him, though, he seemed really nice. It wasn't the first year he'd thought about joining but he said that if he put it off again he'd just spend every day until next Hearth's Warming regretting it and wishing he'd bit the bolt.

                                            >Yeah...

                                            >That isn't why you're on this site now, though. That'd be because he had the most gorgeous blue coat, soft green eyes, and a wispy white mane that came together into a perfectly pony-shaped package that left you really wishing you'd got that mistletoe earlier.

                                            >So, until you get it and he comes in to make a change to his form (he will, won't he?), you've got the right colours picked out for your 'XL Stud, X Flared - cumtube w/ large reservoir' because you know he's got to be the same colour down there.

                                            >But...

                                            >W-What if the mailmare sees the package? They say it's packed discretely but don't the mailponies sometimes open packages to make sure nopony's ordered anything dangerous? N-Not that your XL Stud is a danger to anypony or anything but your—

                                            >You shift in your desk chair and whimper. It's not fair!

                                            >You never participated in the Secret Santa before so nopony ever sent you one and you can't buy one because you know your rotten luck would mean having your package looked at!

                                            >Why can't Santa Pone send a nice stallion your way? You'd be happy with a mare too, at least she could put on her own XL Stud.

                                            >'Maybe she would if you actually signed up for it,' you chide yourself.

                                            >But you know what'd happen - the papers would be awash with headlines about 'local respected clerk revealed to be most perverted mare in all of Canterlot!'

                                            >Because of those stupid ponies you love and their stupid nickname for you that makes you smile and the stupid wonderful event you wish you had the spine to pony up and join.

                                            >You even have your list typed up, purely as an exercise in the hypothetical, and you have your notes on potential gifts for other ponies catalogued and sorted.

                                            >Like the XL Stud you're still staring at.

                                            >And the 'Submit' button that reminds you of who you are.

                                            >Always too willing to Submit to your fears.

                                            >But what if, just this once, you didn't?

                                            >*click*

                                            >Text flashes up on the screen.

                                            [spoiler]>"What is Secret Santa? - An exchange of..."[/spoiler]


                                            >Once again, you find yourself to be Clerical Task.

                                            >And actually, you find yourself not staring at a Submit button!

                                            >For once, you’re the one doing the Submitting!

                                            >... N-Nopony would think you'd try to pull any strings to get matched with somepony you like though, would they?

                                            >You may look over all the details, make sure everything's correct, and properly format and sort it all but Santa Pone is the one who decides who's matched with whom!

                                            >Besides which, you'd never abuse any position you'd have to possibly match yourself with a cute stallion who you got talking to and wished would've asked you for cocoa at that café across the street from the temporary office.

                                            >Right?

                                            >Well, Santa Pone always trusted you enough to handle all this. Ever since… Oh, how many times have you recounted that story to curious ponies?

                                            >How the automated system they set up kept spitting out garbled nonsense whenever anypony tried to submit their information. You were one of the ponies brought in to see if it could be rectified.

                                            >Sadly not; whatever two-bit Quartz Valley outfit that put it together obviously hadn’t intended it for something like this.

                                            >So there was no solution and nopony was sure what to do about it.

                                            >And you, being the foal you were and are, tried to break the tension by cracking a joke about how you could handle it yourself seeing as part of your job involves something similar.

                                            >That was it. Santa Pone always worked through intermediaries and they told you she’d be happy with that setup since she preferred to keep things in-community anyway. More in keeping with the spirit of the event, apparently.

                                            >So now everypony just uses the form to easily fill in their details, print it off, then bring it to you who catalogues and sorts everything neatly.

                                            >Huh.

                                            >You’ve been doing it for a few years now and while you never took the chance of getting involved yourself, it does remind you that you’ve been entrusted with an important task.

                                            >One that called for your discretion in not revealing who’s who, what they like, and especially what any pony might enjoy inserting themselves into or into themselves. You always made sure not to start reading through the forms with the pony there for just that reason.

                                            >But the fact is that Santa Pone trusts you. You can’t now betray that trust by abusing your position, even if you wanted to.

                                            >And you would like to be matched with that cute stallion because you're both later entrants, you're both worrywarts, and he wants a Mistress Mare-velous figure (because, like you, he understands she's obviously the best), so you two getting together to warm up this cold season with some Hearth's Warming cheer would be perfect!

                                            >Haha! Hah.

                                            >Oh, who’re you kidding? You’ll be lucky if you even get an XL Stud (Kirin Edition) out of it.

                                            >You’d debated putting down asking for the accoutrements for it but eventually decided on stressing that it’s only if your santa is in a position to do so and wants to.


                                            >But you’ve seen the things other ponies ask for and none of them mind seeing you the next year after you’ve seen them.

                                            >You’ve got your forms printed out and ready, you don’t even need to take them anywhere except the office to be sent off with the rest.

                                            >And… you still remember what that stallion said to you.

                                            >Well, once you’d cleared things up after that misunderstanding which was definitely just a misunderstanding. Definitely. You were not thinking about hanging a sprig of mistletoe on your tail and letting him go to town down there. What you really meant was that sometimes ponies worried you might judge them unfairly and try to fuck them over, especially if you saw some of the things they asked for.

                                            >Yes, that is definitely something that's come up in the past and not at all an excuse you hastily plucked out of thin air.

                                            >But then he got to talking to you, once you’d (nervously) laughed off all of that, and told you about this being his first Secret Santa but that you probably already knew that, right?

                                            >How he so badly wanted to take part but was sure he'd do something wrong and ruin somepony's Hearth's Warming.

                                            >How he'd come here each year but turn away before he got to the door, in case he'd have to try and explain everything.

                                            >How he'd let that get in the way of being somepony's santa and bringing a smile to their face. Enjoying the excitement of creating the perfect parcel of gifts for them to really brighten their day. Maybe he'd be lucky and get matched with somepony that likes Power Ponies!

                                            >And maybe send a card or two to the more outlying areas of Equestria so ponies there would know they're not forgotten.

                                            >So that was what you needed to hear. Especially from him.

                                            >Your dream pony who unluckily happened to stop by before you had that sprig of mistletoe over the desk and not anywhere else.

                                            >And you behind it and not on top of it, or under it, or with him under it, or…

                                            >Just thank Celestia there’s only a couple more days left before the signups close for the season.

                                            >The last thing you need are even more ponies coming in, tempting you.

                                            >Though there is one yet to arrive, who likes making what you suppose Manehattenites call a ‘fashionably late entrance’.

                                            >A tall mare with a confident gait and clothes so stylish she wouldn’t look out of place on any catwalk.

                                            >And the way the evening light catches on her tan coat and that two-tone brown mane and tail… How she’d saunter up to the desk and speak with a voice like caramel about how she’s looking forward to another fun time this year.

                                            >’Another opportunity to make a dear friend feel-’ Every time she’d just laugh beautifully instead of finishing, though.

                                            >And every time you’d feel your cheeks heat just a little at that sound.

                                            >What? Hey, you’re not blind or deaf!

                                            >But right now, while you wait for tomorrow and the opportunity to get your form gone, you’ve got a hot date with your pillow, your hoof, and a well-worn bottle of Appleloosan Comfort.


                                            >On this day, the second last day before signups end, you find yourself once more as Clerical Task.

                                            >That was quite the workout last night and thanks to it, you had the best night of sleep in months!

                                            >Which means you awoke with a rare sense of clarity and purpose; after work, you were going to go straight to that cosy florist near the office to pick up what you needed.

                                            >Which is precisely where you now find yourself.

                                            >"Will that be all, miss?"

                                            >You should've done this way back when the signups opened, really, but for the few ponies that always leave it until the last moment it should be nice for them to be greeted by pleasant scents.

                                            >A-And maybe a sprig of mistletoe over the desk... In case they'd like some 'extra holiday cheer'...

                                            >The seafoam mare with the pale cream mane looks at you expectantly.

                                            >It's now or never, Clerical.

                                            "Actually, could I—ahem—get an e-extra sprig of mistletoe, please?"

                                            >The mare raises an eyebrow but turns around to fetch some from the display behind the counter.

                                            >Kind of a shame she doesn't have any of her own hanging overhead, now that you think of it.

                                            >She's pretty easy on the eyes.

                                            >Not to mention that cute smile she wears when she turns back around.

                                            >"Covering all your bases, hmm?" She titters and leans over the counter, hanging the mistletoe between you. Mercifully not overhead. "Who's the lucky stallion that's caught your eye?"

                                            >Your mouth clamps shut but even so you feel your cheeks start to warm as you remember that cute guy from yesterday. And especially last night's mental adventures...

                                            >"Oh my!" She titters again. "Or is it a mare?"

                                            >Okay now that makes your face even warmer which isn't fair at all! You don't like mares in that way!

                                            >N-Not that there's anything wrong with it! But there's a difference between idle fantasising and... and actually, uh...

                                            >W-Why is she levitating the mistletoe overhead?

                                            >Why are her eyes going all half-lidded‽

                                            >"She must be some lady to have a cutie like you going to all this trouble for her."

                                            >Wait, did you lean forward or did she?

                                            >And... why does her breath smell so sweet and floral?

                                            >"I just have one question before you trot that pert little butt out the door, hon'."

                                            >She's so close you could lean forward just another inch or two and see why her breath smells so good.

                                            "Y-Yeah?"

                                            >"Does she..." You almost let out a whimper when the florist pushes herself away from you, back from the counter... and lifts her forelegs onto it. "Have one of these‽"

                                            >By Celestia's milky teats!

                                            >H-How could a mare possess such a staggering piece of equipment!

                                            >With the forward thrust of her hips, what you can only describe as a perfectly real copy of the XL Stud bounces from her pelvis to thump against her stomach.

                                            >But it's not a Stud! There's no straps going around her hind legs or her hips and from your eyes quickly and keenly examining every inch (not that you're that familiar with the Stud!), it's clear this is the real deal.

                                            >There's even a little sprig of mistletoe tied to the tip?


                                            >”Miss?”

                                            >What?

                                            >Oh. Shit.

                                            >H-How long have you been standing there, zoned out?

                                            >Of course she’s not leaning over the counter, or standing with her forehooves on it, or tantalisingly offering you her dick for the Hearth’s Warming smooches you so desperately need!

                                            >”Are you alright? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that.”

                                            >Don’t say anything about her dick. Don’t say anything about fucking her. For Celestia’s sake, for once in your life don’t let a pony know they need to literally and repeatedly punch your v-card!

                                            “I’m… f-fine!”

                                            >Even though it’s clear from the strain in your voice, your tight-lipped response, and your beet-red face that you’re anything butt.

                                            >But!

                                            >Sweet merciful Luna, you have to get away from here!

                                            >”O… kay, well, the mistletoe is complimentary and I’ll give you a discount for the flowers.” The poor mare chuckles nervously. “I, uh, I hope this won’t put you off from coming here again!”

                                            >Hahaha! Haha! Why no, not at all! You’d love to come back sometime, throw yourself over her counter and see if she really can give you the holiday dicking you so richly deserve!

                                            >W-Wait, you didn’t say that out loud did you?

                                            >Ohh, why did you make out your list for the Secret Santa? The prospect of even the chance at getting a Stud has clearly done terrible things to your mind.

                                            >Forget the whole thing, right? It was a stupid idea last night and it's an even more stupid idea now.

                                            >Okay, pull it together Clerical. You didn’t make a complete foal of yourself yet so you can still salvage this.

                                            >Just get the bits out of your saddlebag, give them to the not-cute mare behind the counter and go straight to the temporary office so you can forget about this whole mess under your tail.

                                            >This whole mess in the shop!

                                            >You clench your tail tight against your backside as you rummage about in your saddlebag for the bits. The mare, mercifully, hasn’t said anything else as she waits for you and only smiles and offers a gentle thanks when you messily place the bits on the counter.

                                            >Forgetting about the discount she offers so you have to spend more time scooping the excess coins back up.

                                            >Just as you turn to go with your purchases hastily pushed into your bags, the mare calls after you, “thank you! And don’t be afraid to come again!”

                                            “Y-You too…” you barely manage to squeak out before gingerly trotting out the door.


                                            >You, Clerical Task, can only thank Celestia that the worst is behind you now.

                                            >Finally you’ve got everything set up; the mistletoe hangs over your desk—after a little deliberation over where to put it, the flowers are sitting prettily in one of the larger glasses you have here, and the… o-other sprig of mistletoe is hanging where nopony should see it unless they catch your eye and you choose to show it off with a seductive (but still tasteful!) little shake of your tail.

                                            >Now all you have to do is wait for the first pony to come inside!

                                            >The office.

                                            >You groan and hang your head over the desk; stupid cute florist still getting to you.

                                            >Stupid cute pegasus stallion who you haven’t seen anywhere all day!

                                            >He does live in Canterlot, you remember that much from his form in spite of how you really shouldn’t.

                                            >Well, it’s not like you’re planning to show up at his house all wrapped up in a bow as an extra special Hearth’s Warming gift for him!

                                            >No, no, that’d just ruin his faith in the Secret Santa and you’d be banned from it permanently, never again to meet interesting ponies.

                                            >You wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to visit the threads any more, like you’re doing right now to pass the time.

                                            >And in spite of whatever frustrations you may or may not have building today, seeing everypony excitedly having fun does leave you feeling warm in a much more pleasant way.

                                            >The giveaways, the contests, songs, games, somepony talking about how their lucky santee is going to get two XL Studs.

                                            >... Haha!

                                            >W-Wow, wouldn’t that be wild! Imagine trying to fit two of those things inside yourself!

                                            >You’re definitely not going to make any changes to your wishlist to add an extra one just in case you get lucky!

                                            >You’re not, because somepony is coming into the office right now.

                                            >Okay, Clerical, remember: no dirty thoughts!

                                            >Which should be easy because the pony in question is just a filly.

                                            >A pretty cute little filly, too, with her bright green coat, and her mane and tail as black as the night sky, and her… scowl?

                                            >This is the first time you’ve had a foal come into the office but it’s a shame she’s one that looks so put out. Is she lost?

                                            >Oh dear, the desk might be a little high for her to see over. There’s a comfortable cushion if anypony wants to sit down and have a chat with you about the event, in case there’s anything they’re not sure of or they have questions about the forms that the FAQ didn’t answer.

                                            >Well, if she’s that upset it might be best to just let her decide for herself what she’d like to do. You don’t have that much experience with kids but you can easily guess it’s better not to worsen a possibly bad situation.

                                            >Aw, she’s propping her forelegs on the desk and craning her neck up like she’s a big mare who doesn’t need help!

                                            >Though you can still only see the tip of her nose peeking over the edge of the desk.

                                            >Then a gasp from her.

                                            >Oh no! Did she strain herself?


                                            >Did Santa Pone make sure to take out proper insurance on the premises? Are you covered for accidental injury of clients?

                                            >You push yourself to your hooves and lean across the desk, eager to see if the filly’s okay.

                                            >She’s still scowling but it’s deepened and she’s… staring straight up?

                                            >At the mistletoe.

                                            >”Hey!”

                                            >The loudness of her voice catches you off-guard as much as the tone.

                                            >”What the fuck is that?”

                                            >You’re about to chide her for her language but she jabs a hoof upwards, right towards the mistletoe.

                                            >You have to adjust your spectacles a little before looking back down at her and take it as an opportunity to decide on how to word this.

                                            “It’s some mistletoe, young miss, but don’t worry I’m not going to ask you—”

                                            >”I know what it is, moron!” she snaps. “What the fuck is it doing up there?”

                                            >Wow. Okay. If she has that kind of mouth on her then chances are she must think you’re trying to take advantage of ponies or something. Some kids could be pretty cynical for their age, right?

                                            >But you don’t get the chance to respond before she goes on, “Hallow- Nightmare Night is tomorrow! Argh! I bet you’re the kind of sicko who wears Hearth’s Warming sweaters way too early, too!”

                                            >Hahaha! W-What? No! Y-You definitely do not have your hilarious ‘Happy Horsemas!’ sweater drying at home for tomorrow!

                                            “Hey, it’s just a bit of early Hearth’s Warming fun!”

                                            >That’s it! No cute pegasus stallions are going to be repeatedly smooched under it or anything like that, no ma’am!

                                            >Amazingly, the filly’s scowl deepens but she at least takes her hooves off your desk and starts walking… around…

                                            >Shit!

                                            >W-What if she sees the mistletoe you accidentally tied around your tail?

                                            >She’ll report you to the royal guard for trying to fiddle a filly, you’ll be locked in the dungeons, and the first dick you ever feel will be one you don’t even want!

                                            >What can you do? Think, Clerical, think!

                                            >Okay, okay, she’s coming around the right side of the desk. You can just… turn quickly to face her and keep your back away, your rump on the cushion, and your tail right down there so nothing can be seen!

                                            >Shit, fuck, here she is! Spin it, girl!

                                            >Doing your absolute best to maintain a casual pose and not at all one of affected nonchalance, you flick an errant strand of your mane from your face and give the filly a confident (but entirely appropriate!) look.

                                            >... Oh, she’s rummaging in her saddlebags.

                                            >Your ears droop a little and your confident smile turns to something more neutral.

                                            >The filly pulls a sheaf of papers from her bag and proffers them towards you.

                                            >Wait, she wants to enter?

                                            >There isn’t really any kind of minimum age but that’s probably because the site this is organised on has one. And this filly does not look old enough to be looking at that kind of thing.

                                            >As if reading your mind, she rolls her eyes and pokes her paper-holding-hoof towards you.

                                            >”It’s for my… my mom, okay?”


                                            >With the scorn she puts into ‘mom’ you're not sure what to think. Then again, if she’s the kind of mother to get her filly to do things like this, can you blame her?

                                            >You light your horn and levitate the papers over to yourself.

                                            >Let’s see here… ‘T. Sparkle’? You can’t recall seeing the name but you can’t remember every participant every year.

                                            >You definitely do not remember ever seeing this filly, or any other, before. At least one unaccompanied by a parent.

                                            >You’ll have to pay special attention to this form to see if there’s any giveaway that somepony is trying to pass herself off as somepony she’s not.

                                            >Oh wow, Ponyville? That’s quite a ways away!

                                            >But there’s no way any mother would get her filly to go all the way to Canterlot alone, is there?

                                            >Nah, she’s probably in one of the shops nearby and had her kid drop these off to save time.

                                            >Still, it’ll be no harm to be sure.

                                            >”Ahem.”

                                            >You shift the papers to one side only to see the filly still looking up at you but with another collection of papers in her outstretched hoof.

                                            >Another submission?

                                            >Hmm… ‘Clover Quarter’?

                                            >You levitate the papers to your desk and look back to the filly who’s now no longer wearing her scowl.

                                            >She still frowns as she looks up at you and says, “those are for my sister. My big sister.”

                                            >Okay. Now you’ll definitely have to be careful checking those forms.

                                            >”Thanks for the submissions, little miss! You can tell your mom she’ll get her assignment soon, okay?”

                                            >”Yeah, yeah,” the filly grumbles. Quite unexpectedly, she pulls herself up and jabs a hoof up and to one side of you before saying, “and take that shit down!”


                                            >You’re thankful that this day is almost at a close because as you’re still Clerical Task, you’ve still had to deal with a hoofful.

                                            >The little green filly had… well, she’d wound up hopping up to you and planting a little kiss right on your lips. Honestly, it would’ve been hilarious and a little sweet if not for what she said after.

                                            >”If you don’t take that shit down, I’m gonna tell everyone you kissed a filly!”

                                            >And okay, there was that brief flash of anxiety before you realised that even if she did tell somepony that believed her and even if the royal guard came by, they’d see you have your mistletoe up and you could explain that you are not, in fact, fiddling any fillies.

                                            >A-And if they needed further convincing, well, you could certainly think of one or two ways to demonstrate that you’re only interested in ponies your own age!

                                            >But the guards never came. Neither did you.

                                            >It was probably for the best anyway. Celestia knows you’d screw it up and they’d take you in for trying to bribe them, and then it’d be right back to the dungeons.

                                            >You shiver just thinking about that.

                                            >The only dungeon you’re interested in is the one Mane-iac tied up Mistress Mare-velous up in, in issue one seventy one of Power Ponies.

                                            >Heh, you made sure to grab your copy of that before they were taken from the shelves!

                                            >Whoever wrote that one must’ve had quite the trip to Neighpone beforehoof!

                                            >Anyway, you managed to resolve the whole situation quite neatly, if you say so yourself.

                                            >One little remark to the filly about how she’d finally given in to the seasonal cheer had her scowling but her cheeks turning pink.

                                            >She didn’t have much to say after that.

                                            >And so you were free to return to your browsing.

                                            >A-And maybe a little idle fantasising about your cute pegasus stallion.

                                            >Hey, you can’t be blamed! Sometimes it seemed like half the ponies in the thread were just as eager for some holiday action as you are!

                                            >Then there was the rest that helped settle down those fires sparking to life under your tail.

                                            >Exchanging specialist sites for merchandise for favourite fandoms, local businesses that serve the perfect treats, there were even some (if they could be believed) kirin posting!

                                            >They had to be some of the new ponies who were excitedly chatting about it being their first time.

                                            >So… so you made one of those posts yourself.

                                            >You’d already formatted your forms, got everything ready, there was no turning back now. Well, you could just not send them with the rest but why do that?

                                            >If there really were kirin then that was all the more reason to sign up. If even they, from so far away, were willing to spread holiday cheer, why can’t you?

                                            >You look back up to the mistletoe hanging over your desk.

                                            >Now there was a bit of cheer that wasn’t as well thought out as it should’ve been.


                                            >The first pony of the day after the filly was that tired mare again.

                                            >It’s the weekend, though, so she really shouldn’t have looked so worn out. There was a paper cup of coffee levitating by her side as she handed you a slip containing her updated information.

                                            >Sadly, she didn’t even notice the mistletoe overhead. And she really looked like a little festive kiss could’ve brightened up her day…

                                            >It was always surprising to see just how many ponies would continue to arrive this close to the end, though.

                                            >A few complimented the flowers and some even noticed the mistletoe. Some… some really didn’t seem to mind it at all.

                                            >There were those two stallions who came in together and, um, s-sandwiched you between them, each kissing one of your cheeks.

                                            >Ho mare, you were really tempted to get up and shake your mistletail at them!

                                            >But, uh, then they kissed each other.

                                            >Not on the cheeks…

                                            >Of course that just meant that when they left you started thinking about how you could show them the wonders of mares! The perfect Hearth’s Warming gift, right? No bed should go unwarmed by a mare who really knows how to handle boys!

                                            >Those thoughts didn’t last long before the next pony came in: a wine-coloured mare with a pale red mane and tail.

                                            >They didn’t last long after she stirred you from your reverie and you blurted out, “studs!”

                                            >Hey, you were just getting to the good part in your fantasy!

                                            >And somehow her cheeks turned even more red than her coat. She looked at her forms, back to you, back to the forms, then dropped them off and left without saying a word.

                                            >A cursory glance over them revealed why; she asked, among other things, for two Medium Studs, unflared.

                                            >She wasn’t that small, though, she could easily have gone for at least large!

                                            >Well, at least the next mare who came in had the decency to kiss you!

                                            >... N-Not that that’s the most important thing about the event!

                                            >But it was the kind of kiss that she put her hoof to your chin for and then lightly pulled on you when she moved back upon lifting one of her hind legs.

                                            >And you, well, you didn’t resist! It felt good to meet somepony who understood the real meaning of the season!

                                            >Though you were left questioning that afterwards.

                                            >”Now how about I warm up your hearth, babe?”

                                            >You weren’t quite sure what she meant until she pointed at your tail which was now, entirely by accident(!), to one side enough that she could see the mistletoe on it.

                                            “Haha! That-I-it-stuck! It got stuck!”

                                            >You felt your cheeks warming with every word, especially with that dirty smile she wore.


                                            >”Maybe I’d like to get stuck there, too.”

                                            >Ho-ho mare, did your glasses fog up!

                                            >Ahem. Thankfully, she laughed off your stammering that was definitely just because it took you by surprise.

                                            >You were not thinking about gluing two XL Studs together and sharing them with her!

                                            >And the two of you (though mostly her) had a good laugh about it afterwards, with her assuring you it was just her style of humour.

                                            >Though if you ever found yourself around Stalliongrad, you shouldn’t be afraid to swing by a little bakery called Cinnamon Shake’s Bakes.

                                            >After that, well, the rest of the evening was pretty ordinary!

                                            >Apart from the lack of your cute pegasus stallion.

                                            >B-But that’s okay! There’s still tomorrow, even after this. And there’s usually a rush of ponies trying to get in before the end and make last-minute changes.

                                            >Those thoughts didn’t last long once… she arrived.

                                            >That pony with the beautiful tan coat and two-tone brown mane and tail. Whose whole body shone like the sun in the fading evening light.

                                            >Or rather, what lay beyond the incredibly stylish jacket she wore with her mane captured by the most adorable hat. Which, thankfully, was removed once she stepped through the door, with a red-tipped hoof.

                                            >She gives her head a light shake, letting the long tresses of her mane cascade about her neck and withers.

                                            “H-Hi, Lucky,” you stammer out, with a small smile.

                                            >Lucky Lightshow returns a much wider, warmer smile of her own.

                                            >You didn’t remember everypony’s name, or even most ponies, but who could ever forget this charming mare?

                                            >”Hello, honey, it’s good to see you again.”

                                            >Accompanying her are two delicious aromas from the two cups hooked onto one of her saddlebags.

                                            >”Are you feeling alright? You look as worn out as I do after a day with the theatre.”

                                            >You try to push your smile wider, which really is easy to do as Lucky places the two cups on the desk and seats herself on the cushion.

                                            “I-It’s just been one of those days, y’know?”

                                            >She nods sagely before saying, “I know all about it, sweetie. Tell you what, though.” She lifts a hoof to the desk and presses it against one of the paper cups. “I’ve got something here I think might help with that.”

                                            >Your nose does not deceive you on this one - it’s hot cocoa!

                                            >Of course, of course Lucky would be the first pony to actually bring you some of that.

                                            >”But!” You snap your attention back to her and the mischievous smile she now wears. “There’s something I have to ask of you first.”

                                            >Right now she could ask you to take a running leap off Canterlot Palace and you’d do it without a second thought.

                                            “Anything,” you reply breathily, taking in the wonderful sweet scent from the cup and, oh goodness, is that a little hint of mint you’re getting?

                                            >”I’d like you,” Lucky says, meeting your gaze evenly, “to give some serious thought to joining me this year.”


                                            >You immediately feel your ears pin back at those words.

                                            >It’s not the first time you’ve heard that sentiment and no matter what form it takes, you know that given who’s saying it, there’s only one meaning.

                                            “I-” you begin, ready to try and fob her off with some excuse again.

                                            >But then you remember. This isn’t any ordinary year.

                                            >You could say it’s Lucky having worn you down but that isn’t it, she’s not like that.

                                            >It was your chance meeting with that cute pegasus stallion. Then going home and recalling how much fun the threads are for so many ponies. Looking over your wishlist, deciding on the mistletoe, everything that’s happened in the last couple of days.

                                            “I really needed some cheer, Lucky. So… so now you’re looking at one of the newest entrants.”

                                            >You’ve kept your eyes on the cup, which now slides over to you in front of a red-tipped hoof.

                                            >You look up and see Lucky smiling as warm and wide as you ever have.

                                            >”And you’ll feel that cheer, hon’, when you see how happy you’ll make your friend.” She winks and you hope to cover the little blush that touches the edge of your cheeks by levitating the cup to yourself. “You’ve already made one happy.”

                                            >It’s good that it’s so late in the evening when Lucky calls, since not many more ponies tend to arrive this late.

                                            >Which gives the two of you some time to sit and chat. About the secret santa, mostly, but also about how you shouldn’t be afraid to ask on the threads for advice, and especially to talk to the pony you’ve been assigned to and who’s been assigned to you.

                                            >Getting to know each other a little, forming friendships, that was what the event was all about.

                                            >You could’ve sat there all night listening to her talk, watching her take delicate sips from her own cup.

                                            >But eventually she pulled the forms from her saddlebag and you graciously took them, pausing only when she leaned across the desk.

                                            >She’s quite tall, taller than you easily, and reaching over to you was of little difficulty for the mare.

                                            >Nor was the gentle kiss she placed on your cheek. One that didn’t make you blush but still made your heart skip a beat.

                                            >”Just a little extra cheer, Clery,” she said, with a flick of her eyes upward. You opened your mouth to ask but Lucky just went on, “first thing I saw when I came in. In my business you gain an eye for detail, honey. Speaking of which…”

                                            >She told you of the theatre she worked for, Illumination and Spotlight’s Theatre of Imagination, as well as the address. Just in case you wanted to swing by and catch one of her shows.

                                            >Maybe you would, too.

                                            >After all, it was a season of firsts.


                                            >Today’s the day! And on this, the last day for submitting signups for the secret santa, you find yourself as Clerical Task, gaily trotting towards your temporary office!

                                            >Not because of any particularly pleasant dreams you may or may not have had the night before, however.

                                            >Definitely not, because you woke up in a cold sweat and a hot flush, feeling more frustrated than usual and took more than a little time to get back to sleep.

                                            >Geeze, it’d be nice to have a pony to help warm your hearth this year but two of them? Well, you can always hope Santa Pone works some of that magic you’ve heard about and somehow orchestrates their arrival to personally deliver those special presents.

                                            >Ho mare, just thinking about those two equally special ponies, being held by one of them while the other starts you off before the first joins in on all of that lovely holiday cheer… It puts a little heat in your cheeks!

                                            >A-And your other cheeks...

                                            >But that’s fine! It’s not like there was anypony else in your apartment to hear your muffled whimpering when you stuffed your face into the pillow just to be sure.

                                            >If you weren’t sure about taking part in the event already, you were after that.

                                            >Then, when you had the time to check, you saw that the thread was buzzing with excitement that’s only risen as the deadline draws near.

                                            >It was always a more abstract affair in the past; ponies joked and cheered others on that confessed they’d left it to the last minute but for you, it was just something to watch.

                                            >Now, with the excitement that sets your heart to fluttering as you step through the office doors, you find yourself rooting for those ponies who need to rush here to get in.

                                            >And they’re going to find the biggest, warmest reception waiting for them!

                                            >E-Especially if any of them happen to be a cute blue pegasus who’d like to hold you in his hooves while a certain seafoam mare sees just how warm your hearth is.

                                            >Hoho! Okay, Clerical, time to put those thoughts aside and focus on other ponies!

                                            >Because everypony who comes today deserves that.

                                            >To feel welcome! Not to put their hooves around you and… y-yeah.

                                            >Even though your mistletoe is still up.

                                            >And you made sure to wear your fittingly festive ‘Happy Horsemas!’ sweater and suitably special socks with those adorable candy cane designs.

                                            >Yes, okay, it’s Nightmare Night but you didn’t really have any foals coming to your apartment and wouldn’t be going to any parties. [spoiler]And the candy canes work because ponies give out candy, so there![/spoiler]

                                            >You stay at the office a bit later tonight just to make sure anypony who’s late is given as much of a chance as possible.

                                            >And as you sit on the cushion behind the desk, fix up the small stack of submissions you still need to finish, and realign your glasses with a flick of your magic, you spare a moment to watch ponies pass by outside.


                                            >Some already wear costumes - naughty nurses and handsome fireponies, brave royal guards and fearsome monsters.

                                            >You nicker to yourself at the sight, wondering what you must look like by comparison.

                                            >But Hearth’s Warming was just so much better! Cold weather, hot cocoa, warm fires, and warm company… Well, if you had any.

                                            >This year is going to be different, though, you can feel it! Maybe you’ll even take Waybill up on his offer for drinks this year.

                                            >Whatever you decide it’ll have to wait for later because it looks like you have your first pony of the day!

                                            >And… wow, she is really booking it through the door. Running a little awkwardly, too.

                                            >Sweat runs down the poor cream-coloured mare’s brow and has even dampened the edges of her—exceptionally stylish—two-tone blue mane.

                                            >Thankfully her white blouse still looks okay but she’d better slow it down or she’s… she’s going to ram right into your desk!

                                            “Stop!”

                                            >The word’s out of your mouth before you can stop yourself and the mare has to practically skid to a halt, somehow amazingly finishing right in front of the cushion.

                                            >Panting, she looks about the office and then at you with an expression you know all too well.

                                            >”Am… Am I… late?” she asks, panting heavily.

                                            “I just got here,” you mumble.

                                            >With a heavy exhale, the mare lowers her head and mutters something too quietly for you to hear.

                                            >”I’m… so sorry... about that,” she says when she lifts her head back up, giving you an apologetic look. “You wouldn’t believe…”

                                            >You probably can’t but at least she’s here now and hopefully where she’s meant to be.

                                            >You motion for the mare to seat herself on the cushion in front of the desk and she smiles sheepishly, mouthing a ‘thank you’ before undoing her saddlebags and placing them to one side.

                                            >With the same awkwardness she came running in with, the mare begins to slowly lower herself onto the cushion but is careful to keep a hoof on the front of her cute pink skirt.

                                            >Almost as if… hey! You’re not the kind of pony who’d try to catch a peek at other ponies like that!

                                            >W-Well, you wouldn’t mean to…

                                            >Oooh, you really hope this mare hasn’t been listening to some of the things those ponies in the threads have said!

                                            >You are not going to ask for sexual favours in return for getting a better assignment!

                                            >Even the mistletoe is just tradition, you’re not expecting cute ponies to lavish your entire body with tender kisses or anything.

                                            >Ahem!

                                            “W-What happened?”

                                            >The mare keeps her hoof on her skirt for a moment, looking like she’s examining it, before she turns to you having finally seemed to catch her breath.

                                            >”It’s… oh, it’s a long story.”


                                            >It’s an unbelievable story.

                                            “Really? The janitorial staff at the train station?”

                                            >Milky Way, as her name appears on the forms she gave you before starting on her tale—poor mare really did appear to still be worried she’d miss the deadline—has recounted the most amazing story about a run-in at the Canterlot train station.

                                            >”I don’t know why they have it in for me, really!”

                                            >You don’t get the sense that she’s lying about this but how would you know if she was?

                                            >Apparently, when she arrived and attempted to disembark from the train, it was surrounded by the janitorial staff of the Canterlot train station penning her in.

                                            >Whenever she asked them why they’re doing it, they’d just bark at her to stay back and that she wasn’t welcome in Canterlot any more.

                                            >Eventually she’d had to take a run at them, thanking her lucky stars that the ponies in question weren’t the most physically capable. She had an odd look of embarrassment and sorrow upon remarking that she was more than capable of just knocking them over.

                                            >Straight through their boss, whose name tag she didn’t catch but whose appearance she described as kind of rough.

                                            >But they’d kept her there long enough that she’d run the whole way from the station.

                                            >”Every time I come here they stop me, so I have to get somepony else to go in my place.”

                                            “Why didn’t you get somepony else to deliver this for you, then?”

                                            >You levitate the forms slightly, indicating them.

                                            >Milky just smiles slyly and casts her eyes back, towards the door to the office.

                                            >”Oh no, they weren’t going to stop me this time! This is far too important for that.” Her look turns harder as she turns back to you. “And I’m done taking their manure, anyway. Until the royal guards themselves tell me I’m not welcome, I’ll come here whenever I want.”

                                            >You look back down to the forms; she’s from Trottingham, which isn’t particularly close.

                                            >Any train journey from there would take a while and being turned back because of malicious janitors, anypony would feel put out.

                                            >”Besides,” she goes on, quieter, “I… have some friends on that site who really wanted to see me take part in this.”

                                            >Friends.

                                            >And she was willing to brave all that, just so she could share in the seasonal cheer with them.

                                            >You sure hope they realise just how lucky they are to have a mare so dedicated to count as one of their friends.

                                            >A-And one so cute.

                                            “Hey,” you say, not quite thinking of what you’re saying, “would you, maybe, like to get some tea in the café across the street? You sound like you’ve had a rough time.”

                                            >Milky nickers and shakes her head.

                                            >”Thanks but oh gosh, I really need to just get out there! There’s so many ponies I have to see and places I have to go to catch up on!” The smile she offers is as warm as the summer sun. Though it quickly fades as she glances down to her papers. “You’ll make sure they go out, right?”

                                            “I’ll make sure they’re the first.”

                                            >Ah and there’s that smile again!


                                            >Milky moves to get up but in doing so, looks up and sees the mistletoe hanging overhead.

                                            >You’re about to offer some explanation but she just nickers again.

                                            >”Getting started on that early, huh?”

                                            >You feel your cheeks redden but try to keep up a smile. Okay, she’s not the first pony who’s passed comment on it but from the tone of her voice, it’s as if she knows!

                                            >”Well, I hope you’ll meet somepony who’ll really enjoy getting under that with you, if you haven’t already. But until then…”

                                            >She pushes herself to her hooves, her two-tone blue mane bouncing lightly to one side of her head, and leans forward, over your desk.

                                            >You’re a little too surprised to do much when Milky places a quick little peck on your cheek.

                                            >”Happy Hearth’s Warming!”

                                            >O-Oh wow, you got the nicest little closeup of those cute freckles on her face, too.

                                            >”And Nightmare Night.”

                                            >She nickers again and you do your best to join in, just glad that she doesn’t think you’re some horrible little perv looking for free smooches.

                                            >”Oh! Speaking of which…” Milky suddenly takes up one of her saddlebags and reaches into it. “I always keep a few of these on me.”

                                            >She takes out a small paper bag and tips it over onto your desk, out of which a few wrapped candies spill.

                                            >’Milky Mares’? The wrapper has a picture of a winking white mare on it, over what looks like a milk pail…

                                            >Oh! You’ve heard of these!

                                            >”They’re a favourite of Trottingham!” Milky says, with some amount of pride in her voice. “I even provide the milk for them myself!”

                                            “Thanks! Oh… Sorry I don’t have any candy to give you.”

                                            >She waves a hoof, smiling. “Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad to share our produce.”

                                            >After donning her saddlebags again, Milky Way gives you a tip of her hoof and takes off.

                                            >Walking a little less awkwardly than when she came running in.

                                            >Hah, that was probably to keep her big knockers from knocking together!

                                            >... W-Wait, what?

                                            >You look again, a little more carefully and right when she swishes her tail to one side you see them again: a pair of teats that would surely make Celestia herself green with envy!

                                            >And she… they were just resting right in front of you all this time?

                                            >Memories of your dream from last night come rushing back, this time with a different mare involved.

                                            >And you are definitely not imagining what she’d look like with an XL Stud sandwiched between her bulging teats!

                                            [spoiler]>E-Even though it’d be pretty hot…[/spoiler]


                                            >It’s later in the day now, though you’re still Clerical Task, still accepting submissions, and still waiting for that spark of holiday magic to kick in.

                                            >Would’ve been nice if that sky-blue stallion earlier had kissed just a little bit to the right of your cheek; you could’ve closed your eyes and imagined he was that cute darker blue pegasus stallion, come back to amend his wishlist asking for a night of Hearth’s Warming fun with you.

                                            >O-Or just thrown your computer off the table, lifted you onto it, kissed you deeply, passionately, while telling you you’re all he’s been able to think of, you sexy little mare. You and those hips that shake and sway so much it’s a miracle that any stallion’s able to resist asking to feel them against his own!

                                            >Oh Celestia, yes! What better gift could anypony ever ask for? He could get one of those boxes they use for wine bottles, tie a little bow around himself and just… w-wait under your tree. You could even unwrap him with your teeth, rather than your horn...

                                            >But no, it was just that kinda cute sky-blue pegasus stallion who thanked you and gave you a little peck on the cheek before he left.

                                            >It’s not like this year was any better at the office - the office you work at rather than this temporary one.

                                            >Not that you want to think about that right now, especially remembering the stupid smug grin on Magnolia Manila’s face when she and Paper Trail met under the office mistletoe.

                                            >Ugh, and if the look on her face when you entered her office later was anything to go by then her lips weren’t the only part of her Paper Trail wound up kissing.

                                            >... You really should’ve made sure to wear the mistletoe around your tail again today.

                                            >Or at least sit on the damn desk! First pony that comes through those doors after you do gets the biggest, hottest kiss anypony could ever ask for!

                                            “Uggghhh.”

                                            >You lower your face to your desk and groan, loudly.

                                            >Stupid Magnolia, stupid Paper, stupid no-show pegasus, stupid holiday, stupid holiday dickings that you totally deserve but—

                                            >”Excuse me, is this a bad time?”

                                            >Stupid ponies who can’t even wait until you’re sitting on your desk, all ready and waiting before… they…

                                            >Oh no.

                                            >If it was anypony else, if anything else had happened, you would totally have just forgotten about it all and seen her again today without knowing or caring.

                                            >But it had to be her, didn’t it?

                                            >Probably here because she knew exactly what you were thinking and wanted to personally tell you she’d reported you to the guards for wanting to… What?

                                            >Wait a second, that’s not a crime! If it was, you would’ve been locked up a long time ago.

                                            >With the key thrown away by Celestia herself.

                                            >But it’s not! So she can say what she wants and you can rest assured that the only punishment that’ll be meted out will be upon your rump by her!

                                            >If she wasn’t still standing in the doorway…

                                            >The florist from yesterday.

                                            “Come on in!”

                                            >Hahaha! D-Did you put a little too much oomph into that? Maybe emphasis on the wrong word?


                                            >Oh sweet Celestia, don’t think about her dick, don’t think about her dick, do not think about her long, thick, throbbing dick!

                                            >She doesn’t even have one! And if you tilt your head down to one side so you can get a totally non-creepy look between her hind legs, you’ll see that there isn’t a sheath bouncing around under there waiting to spill a long, thick, throbbing piece of meat that haha Naughty Kirin probably took a mold of to create their Stud series!

                                            >But you’re not going to tilt your head, are you Clerical? Which is why you’re going to start lifting it back up right now and not start doing anything like it again.

                                            >Not everypony has a bone and is looking to stick it in you!

                                            >And mare do you know it…

                                            >Okay, okay, she’s coming inside now so here’s your chance to make her feel like she’s really welcome.

                                            >Make her feel all that festive warmth you’ve been storing up all year long.

                                            >Get her nice and snug in there.

                                            >In your office.

                                            >What? Y-You weren’t thinking of anything else! Maybe just a nice, normal, perfectly platonic festive hug!

                                            >”Oh, it’s getting cold out there! Nice to be somewhere warm again.”

                                            >She’s got a lovely blue jacket and a pale yellow scarf that almost matches her mane, on, and she works at the scarf with a hoof to loosen it.

                                            “Mmhm!” you mumble, keeping your lips firmly clamped shut.

                                            >The cute little smile on the mare’s face fades again and she leans over your desk just enough to make you lean back.

                                            >”You sure you’re okay? I, uh, I can come back if you’d like.”

                                            >C’mon, Clerical, pull it together! She hasn’t brought up the… incident so you’re probably overreacting.

                                            “N-Nope, everything’s fine!”

                                            >Okay, even you know that didn’t sound fine.

                                            >And the mare sits there, studying you for a moment, before she turns to one side and starts rummaging at a saddlebag on her flank.

                                            >”Um, this is where I’m meant to come isn’t it?” Her voice sounds a little muffled with her head turned away. “For the… oh, where is it?”

                                            >You crane your neck forward trying to catch a glimpse of what she’s doing.

                                            >”Aha!”

                                            >Just like that, she pulls a sheaf of papers from her bag and holds them up in front of herself.

                                            >”The ‘Secret Santa Extravaganza, Gifts and Cheer Both Far and Near’!”

                                            >Wow. She must be the first pony you’ve encountered that’s actually used the full title.

                                            >You always got the feeling it was intended to be semi-ironic, though the spirit of cheer and joy wasn’t.

                                            >But the way she said it, pouring every fibre of herself into it, lowering the papers to give you a broad—though still partly strained—smile, and now sits there looking at you hopefully...

                                            >It puts a far more genuine smile on your own face.

                                            “You’re in the right place.”

                                            >”Oh, thank goodness!” The mare exhales heavily, lowering the papers as she does. “Sorry, when my friend told me about this I wasn’t sure if it was just some big joke or something.”


                                            >Oh?

                                            >Ohh.

                                            >She mustn’t use the site, then.

                                            >Well, some ponies weren’t going to be happy about that but there’s no reason they had to know, right?

                                            >And if this, ahem, cute mare needed some help in getting to grips with the site then you could help with that too. All part of your Hearth’s Warming cheer service!

                                            “What did your friend tell you about it?”

                                            >Focusing on this allows you to easily switch over to professional Clerical who is not at all a pervert pony.

                                            >The mare sets her papers down, pausing to look at the vase of flowers to one side of your desk.

                                            >”He… said that it’s not that different from secret santas in other places but ponies treat it differently.” She looks back to you, her cool blue eyes almost lighting up as she speaks. “They really believe in the whole spreading cheer thing, y’know? And some even make friends from it.”

                                            >Your mind quickly turns to thoughts of Lucky and the hoofful of other ponies you’re always especially glad to see each year.

                                            >Now you’re a part of it.

                                            “Y-Yeah, he’s not wrong.”

                                            >The mare’s smile turns more sure as she sees the expression on your face - one you realise is a calm, contented smile of your own.

                                            >Well, here’s another new pony looking to take her first steps into it. And as one of the faces of the secret santa, doesn’t it behove you to put your best hoof forward?

                                            >So you extend a hoof towards her over the desk.

                                            “Clerical Task, nice to meet you.”

                                            >”Oh! Heh, sorry!” The mare shifts her papers about until she’s holding them to her chest with one hoof and extends the other. “I’m Aster.”

                                            “Pretty name for a pretty mare,” you say quietly, shaking her hoof

                                            >... Shit! No, no, you meant to just think that!

                                            >C’mon, it’s a nice name and she is pretty, there’s nothing wrong with acknowledging that!

                                            >”Eheheh, yeah, I deserve that one.”

                                            >In spite of her tone, Aster looks more abashed than amused all the same.

                                            >And you’re left wondering what she means by that.

                                            >She doesn’t leave you wondering long, though, as she goes on, “guess I hoped only I’d remember putting my hoof in my mouth like that, yesterday.”

                                            >Yester-… Oh. Right.

                                            >When you zoned out in her shop thinking about… Y-Yeah.

                                            >”Hey, no hard feelings, right?”

                                            >Definitely no hard feelings because right now you’re professional Clerical which means absolutely no thinking about her big, hard dick!

                                            >You give her hoof another shake and nod your head, making sure to keep that smile on your face.

                                            >Thankfully Aster either doesn’t notice your plastered-on smile or is polite enough not to say anything. Unlike somepony who can’t keep from slobbering all over—Focus!

                                            “S-So, ahem, do you have any questions? About the secret santa?”

                                            >Aster glances down at her forms once she lets your hoof go, her eyes scanning from one side to the other.

                                            >”No, I don’t think so.” Satisfied with what she was looking over, the mare looks back up at you. “I think I filled everything out right.”

                                            “Great!” Another cute pony ready to dive in! “I’ll check over everything anyway. You can stay if you’d like, in case there’s… anything…”


                                            >Okay, even you know you didn’t say anything wrong there so why did her smile suddenly slip off her face, only to be replaced by an expression you know too well: worry.

                                            >”You, uh, you’ll be reading it? All of it?”

                                            >Hmm, didn’t she see on the signups that somepony would be checking everything before it’s sent off? That’s one of the reasons ponies were asked to put their p-mail on it; apart from being contacted by Santa Pone with their assignments, if there’s any issues you can let them know and they can amend it.

                                            >Or is this because it’s you?

                                            >Aster has her wide eyes back on her papers, reading over them frantically before glancing back up to you and then back down to reading.

                                            >You feel your ears start to pin back against your head.

                                            >Stupid Clerical, somepony might back out of this at the last moment and it’s all because of you!

                                            >Why should you get to share in all that cheer when this pony in front of you is just as deserving but might not?

                                            >Okay, okay, she hasn’t actually left yet and if you can get ahead in time, you can put your rigorous training to use!

                                            >By which you mean you can treat this the same way any clients at work who have concerns about sensitive information being read, are handled.

                                            “Aster?”

                                            >Her eyes shoot back up to you, her expression grim.

                                            “It’s okay. I read everypony’s forms and I make sure not to commit anything to memory.” Your own nerves start to settle as you go on, “trust me, I wouldn’t be allowed to keep doing this if I abused my position.”

                                            >She looks a little better alright but Aster still holds the papers tightly to her chest.

                                            >”That’s okay but what if… uh, somepony puts something down that’s…” She gimaces suddenly. “Y-Y’know, adult.”

                                            >Ohhh, right, of course! Geeze, it’s not like she’s the first pony who’s had concerns about that!

                                            “That’s fine! We only allow adults sign up for this and trust me, you really wouldn’t be the first pony who asks for anything like that.” You laugh quietly, thinking of some of the things you’ve read on the threads and even some of the gifts you’ve seen given. “I mean, even I put down that I’d like a couple of—”

                                            >Now it’s your turn to welcome that old, familiar feeling of anxiety. Ah, like a ragged blanket made of sackcloth, so awful.

                                            >But you didn’t tell her exactly what you put down. You didn’t blurt out anything about that pair of XL Studs with the fancy cumtube, the Real Feel cumlube, th-the colours you asked for…

                                            >She doesn’t have to know!

                                            >Unless she’s somehow your santa, in which case as a fellow mare who’s asking for some extra special cheer this season she’ll understand!

                                            >R-Right?

                                            >Well, maybe it’s your own expression, maybe it’s the way you’ve been sitting there awkwardly, or maybe it’s just that you clearly almost let slip what a deviant pervert you are, but Aster doesn’t hold onto her papers quite so tightly now.

                                            >”You?” she asks quietly. “You asked somepony for…” She glances back down to her papers and you’re almost sure you see a little pink touch her cheeks. “Something?”


                                            >Yes! Situation (hopefully) resolved and it didn’t even cost you your dignity (this time)!

                                            >But you still feel a blush creeping into your own cheeks as you nod.

                                            “And somepony else will see it.” Oh Celestia, you were trying not to think about that! “S-So, I’m in the same boat!”

                                            >Right about now you wish you had a nice pair of wings so you could cover your face and not have to look at Aster.

                                            >Even though her expression has softened significantly from what it was and some of the light has returned to her eyes.

                                            >The scent of the flowers you bought yesterday don’t exactly do much to help calm you, though. They just remind you of that awful fuckup you narrowly avoided making any worse.

                                            >But when you look at Aster, you can’t dismiss the thought that she hasn’t said a word in judgement about you.

                                            >Kind of like…

                                            >“Yeah, I checked out some of the threads on that site. Thought they were jokes, y’know?” The smile returns but dims slightly as she asks, “they’re not really serious about some of those things, are they?”

                                            “Not everything.”

                                            >Focusing on what other ponies say is infinitely easier than even thinking about some of the posts you’ve made. Especially since you decided to join.

                                            “But you’re not alone. Trust me, I’ve seen it all.”

                                            >”I bet you have,” Aster says quietly enough you’re not sure she meant for you to hear. “So… you’ll… read these.” She gives her papers a little shake. “And pass them on. Then I’ll get somepony assigned to me and I’ll be assigned to somepony else. And if the pony I’m assigned to asks for… something,” she says, her smile returning more as she looks back up at you, “I guess that just means I’m really not alone, huh?”

                                            >Situation resolved. Cheer restored.

                                            “You’re not alone, Aster.”

                                            >And neither are you.

                                            >At last, the mare lays her papers down on the desk and slides them towards you.

                                            >With a little magic put to your horn, you levitate them to one side, near the stack of others from today. Just need to go through it and format it all up and… definitely not commit to memory what she asked for.

                                            >”Thanks, Clerical.”

                                            >Ohhh, that smile!

                                            “I-It’s just Clery to my friends.”

                                            >What few you have.

                                            >But it’s worth taking that risk to see Aster’s smile grow.

                                            >”Well! I should probably get back to the shop! I’m sure ponies are wondering why I’m closed.”

                                            >Wait, she closed her shop just for this?

                                            >”But um… ahem, just to be sure there’s no hard feelings,” Aster says, “there’s this little café across the street? You’ve probably seen it.”

                                            >How could you not? The perfectly cosy little place for perfectly cosy heartwarming Hearth’s Warming rendezvous.

                                            >”Would you… I mean later, when you’re finished here and I’m finished where I am.” She’s not quite looking at you but not looking away either. “Would you, maybe, like to get something to drink there? Hey, you can tell me more about all of this, too!”


                                            >Oh.

                                            >Oh wow.

                                            >Is this… is it really happening?

                                            >Haha! No, you big foal! She just wants to make up for the awkwardness you caused yesterday because she’s a really nice pony and why wouldn’t you want to get to know her more?

                                            >So stop living inside your head and talk to her!

                                            “I’d love it!”

                                            >Nice one, Clerical.

                                            >Wait no, that sounded okay! Why wouldn’t you be excited about getting hot cocoa with a cute mare in a cosy café? Even—No, especially if she’s just a friend.

                                            >One who now looks at you with a smile that outstrips even the Summer Sun Celebration in its beauty.

                                            >”Oh, and Clery?”

                                            >Aster tilts her head back slightly and flicks her eyes upwards.

                                            >So you look up and see… the mistletoe?

                                            >But—

                                            >Then you feel it.

                                            >A pair of impossibly soft lips against your left cheek, warm breath against your face, and a stirring in your chest that’s as unfamiliar as it is welcome.

                                            >Ho, mare!

                                            >L-Looks like this really is shaping up to be a good Hearth’s Warming!


                                            >It’s almost the end of the final day of signups but you’re not near the end of being Clerical Task.

                                            >This close, it’s tempting just to finish up and head off to join Aster for those drinks.

                                            >Just thinking about it sends a giddy little shiver of excitement through you! You’re going on a romantic (i-in the literary sense) date with a new friend!

                                            >She’ll probably finish up early at the flower shop, go home to put on a cute outfit—not that she doesn’t already look cute—then come straight here to meet you and walk by your side to the café.

                                            >Does that mean you should close a little early yourself? Go home and change out of your sweater and socks?

                                            >She didn’t say anything when she was here but you just know she had to like your sweater; who wouldn’t love the knit design of Celestia wishing everypony a ‘Happy Ho-Ho-Horsemas!’?

                                            >And the candy cane socks? Charming and practical! Heheh, they even let you show off your ‘sweet’ hind legs!

                                            >Mmhm! Play your cards right and you can get a taste of them too, Aster!

                                            >... H-Haha! You’re not going to start thinking about your new friend like that again, are you?

                                            >Oh, c’mon, Clerical, this is the golden opportunity you’ve been waiting for. Take a deep breath, relax, and just look forward to spending time with another pony who’s actually really nice and friendly.

                                            >There, better.

                                            >Plus, you can already see fillies and colts passing by in costumes outside. You never even thought to ask Aster if she’s looking forward to Nightmare Night or if she wanted to go out anywhere.

                                            >For all you know she could be eating into time she could be spending with her other friends just to spend some with you. So you owe it to her to treat her with respect.

                                            >But you’re not going to think about that! Somepony nice and sweet is making time just for you tonight and worrying over what she may or may not be sacrificing for it will only spoil it for the both of you.

                                            >You can already picture it: sitting together on those soft cushions just outside, not bothered by the cool evening air because of those nice hot drinks. Listening to her talk in that gentle voice, maybe casually dropping a few subtle questions about whether she has a coltfriend or a marefriend [spoiler]and if she’d like one[/spoiler].

                                            >But most of all, you keep returning to the thought of just getting to know her. Because what do you really know?

                                            >No, you can’t start going by what’s on her wishlist because apart from the fact that it’d be abusing your position (and you are definitely not doing that just because you happened to meet a couple of cute ponies you like), it doesn’t tell you that much about who she really is.

                                            >Well, apart from one of the items being a… w-well, apart from that certain ‘something’ she put down on her wishlist.

                                            >Why in the world would a mare ask for a Honey Drip?

                                            >Maybe she really does have a—No! No, you are not going to start thinking that again!


                                            >Besides which, as long as you’re sitting side by side tonight, you’re sure you could spare a surreptitious look under the table. Just to make sure. So you know whether you need to reinforce your bed or not.

                                            >Gah!

                                            >Just focus on the job at hoof, even if it is almost over!

                                            >Only a couple more ponies came in after Aster, one of whom wasn’t really a pony as such.

                                            >She was a kirin with the most striking appearance of any—few as they may be—you’ve seen. It almost looked like her mane and tail were on fire but that was ridiculous.

                                            >You’ve heard kirin only start burning up if they’re angry. Maybe she was done up magically for Nightmare Night or something.

                                            >She even had a little sprig of holly behind her horn, oh she was perfect!

                                            >Whatever the case, she was really excited about the secret santa and the holidays in general. The way she went on about how she just loves this time of year, especially now that they’re back in contact with Equestria, had you smiling just as widely.

                                            >Kirin grove has its own traditions, sure, but they were still recovering after the incident you’ve only heard bits and pieces about. More and more kirin were signing up each year as they heard about the secret santa and she was only too happy to join them.

                                            >You made sure to pay extra attention to her forms; you don’t get that many kirin here yet but they need to feel just as welcome!

                                            >The other was a… strange stallion. You may not be on the cutting edge of fashion yourself but even you had to suppress a frown at his flame shirt.

                                            >He seemed nice enough but something about him still felt off. If you had to use one word to describe him, it’d probably be ‘obsequious’ and it really didn’t feel good.

                                            >You’re glad he either didn’t notice the mistletoe or didn’t act on it because he’d be about the only pony you might actually try and not kiss.

                                            >Honestly it kind of killed the good mood you were in after meeting that lovely kirin mare and took you a while to even think about Aster afterwards without imagining... him fawning over her.

                                            >But now here you are, almost ready to finish up for the season. Which, while a little sad, does mean you get to move on to the exciting wait for assignments.

                                            >And this year you’ll be getting your own!

                                            >That anxiety you’ve been contending with has mostly faded now, replaced only by a giddy excitement of introducing as much cheer into another pony’s life as you feel during Hearth’s Warming.

                                            >Maybe you’ll even get a kirin! Just imagine connecting with somepony so far away but just as happy to share in the season’s joy.

                                            >You smile even wider seeing somepony dashing past one of the windows, glancing in. Don’t worry, there’s still time!

                                            >Come on in and submit… your…

                                            >Oh no.

                                            >Oh no! No, it can’t be!

                                            >You’re sure she was here already, wasn’t she? O-Or was that last year?

                                            >And there’s no mistaking her: that charcoal coat, that black mane and tail, the sweater-jacket combo hastily thrown on.

                                            >Oddsy!


                                            >In spite of your heart thundering in your chest and Oddsy’s hooves thundering against the floor after she throws the doors open, you do your best to wear (not force) a smile.

                                            “H-Hi, Oddsy!”

                                            >She’s not scowling so maybe you caught her on a good day? Does she even have good days?

                                            >The mare slows to a halt as you speak and she pushes the large glasses she wears back up her nose before letting out a ragged breath.

                                            >”Am I… late?” she huffs.

                                            >That smile gets just a little bit harder to keep.

                                            “Nope! You, uh, you made it!”

                                            >Unfortunately for you.

                                            >The look of relief on Oddsy’s face lasts barely a moment before its replaced by her more usual scowl, even as she catches her breath.

                                            >A few papers poke out of the edge of her saddlebag and you utter a silent prayer to Luna that they’re all there, else you’re in for even more of a tongue-lashing than usual.

                                            >You really have to wonder how one pony could be so… so negative! Especially at this time of year.

                                            >Okay, it’s not exactly Hearth’s Warming yet but who doesn’t love watching the foals having so much fun? And it does mean the next holiday’s just around the corner.

                                            >But Oddsy’s one of those ponies you always remember. Or rather, can’t forget.

                                            >And no matter what she says, you don’t believe for a second that Santa Pone has it out for her. W-Why would the pony who works so hard to organise all this single out somepony? Everypony knows Santa Pone loves everypony with all her heart! [spoiler]Just as everypony loves her![/spoiler]

                                            >As Oddsy stomps over to your desk and seats herself unceremoniously on the cushion in front of it, however, you feel a pit yawning in the bottom of your stomach.

                                            >”You were just about to close up, weren’t you?”

                                            >You’re not sure whether she sounds more accusing or despondent, or which makes you feel worse.

                                            >Honestly, you’d kind of forgotten just how pessimistic this poor pony could be!

                                            “Well no, not yet.”

                                            >It’s easier to speak in short sentences, gives her less to latch onto.

                                            >”Not like it’ll make any difference.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out the messy assortment of papers. “If I was the first one here I’d still go unassigned.”

                                            >That was something you’d heard before and not just from her. Oddsy’s become something of a legend on the board, a cautionary tale of what happens to bad ponies on Santa Pone’s naughty list.

                                            >Even though you know it’s just that she’s unlucky enough not to get an assignment.

                                            >Every year, though? Hard to believe the entire universe conspires against this one mare.

                                            >”Sure you’re telling me everything?” Oddsy asks you with an unnerving tone that suggests you’re in on the universe’s conspiracy.

                                            “Really!” you reply, a little too eagerly.

                                            >Oddsy’s eyes narrow.

                                            “Y-You do everything right, every year, I don’t know why you don’t get an assignment!”

                                            >The grey mare sighs heavily and rolls her eyes upwards.

                                            >Right up towards the mistletoe.

                                            >Shit… this is the only other pony than that stallion you’d rather have not noticed.


                                            >And maybe it’s the look of disappointment on your face you weren’t quick enough to hide but when Oddsy looks back at you, her scowl deepens.

                                            >So you try putting another smile back on your lips but maybe it’s a little too wide or too obviously forced because the scowl instantly disappears from Oddsy.

                                            >Who looks back up at the mistletoe.

                                            >Down to the papers on the desk.

                                            >Back up. Then down to you.

                                            >She opens her mouth and closes it, taking one more look up at the mistletoe.

                                            >”You—” She closes her eyes and takes a long, steadying breath. “You hang mistletoe over your desk.”

                                            >Oh no, is she going to give you an earful about how pointless it is because nopony’ll ever notice it?

                                            >Or that it’s a dumb tradition?

                                            >”Is that what it’s all about?” Oddsy snorts. “A little test to make sure everypony’s in the holiday spirit?”

                                            >What? No!

                                            >The secret santa’s open to everypony! And you’re not even the one who decides the assignments!

                                            >But that’s not what you say to her.

                                            “I-I only put it up this year.”

                                            >Oddsy’s eyes narrow again.

                                            >”Really? And suppose I don’t kiss you; does that mean you’ll ‘overlook’ something in my forms?”

                                            “N-No!” You tap your hooves together nervously and try to meet the mare’s unnervingly intense gaze. “I-I make sure to double check your forms every year, Oddsy.”

                                            >She doesn’t say anything, just keeps up that look that makes you wish you had Aster here to protect you.

                                            “H-How about this?” you ask, taking a small stack of custom-printed post-it notes shaped like candy canes. “I’ll put a note in. For Santa Pone. For your forms. To make double-definite sure you get an assignment.”

                                            >Not that you’ve ever done anything like that or even thought about showing favouritism for anypony! Even for cute blue pegastuds or cute seafoam florists.

                                            >But even to you it does sound weird that she’s never been assigned somepony.

                                            >Oddsy, however, looks less than convinced by your hurried attempt to mollify her.

                                            >Rather, she leans forward in her cushion and jabs a hoof at the papers she gave you.

                                            >”And you won’t put down that I didn’t give you your Horsemas sugar?”

                                            >You really, really would rather not think about what she might be getting at by saying that.

                                            >”Because let me tell you what I had to go through just to get here.”

                                            >Oh mare, now you’re in for it…

                                            >”First, I had Hots McButt himself steal my cab. Again. I had to hoof it all the way to the train station and even then I almost missed the last train to Canterlot.”

                                            >She has, thankfully, sat back into her cushion but it doesn’t do much to diminish the acidity in her voice. Especially on that name you’re sure can’t really be somepony’s name, unless he’s some kind of model.

                                            >”Then, they made up some gryphon and minotaur story about leaves on the track being why there was a delay. Yeah, probably because Mr. McButts decided to play in the trees or show off his ass to the conductor.”


                                            >You’re about to ask who she’s talking about but Oddsy just keeps on going.

                                            >”I order some coffee to keep myself going and the train starts up just as the serving colt gives it to me. Fucking nearly would’ve burned my eye out if I wasn’t wearing these.” She taps a hoof at her oversized glasses.

                                            >”And as if that wasn’t enough, some kirin held me up asking if I knew the best pastry shop in Canterlot that sells Hearth’s Warming choux pastries!” Oddsy slams a hoof on your desk, drawing a squeak from you. “I’m not even from Canterlot! Pfft but she didn’t want to hear that. Oh no, she wanted to show me exactly what she was talking about.”

                                            >Oddsy takes a couple of deep breaths before looking back to you with a level gaze.

                                            >”So now here I am, just in time, and ready to get an assignment this year. And I will get one, won’t I?” You nod hurriedly. “Because if I don’t, you’ll be my assignment.”

                                            “M-Me?” you barely manage to squeak out.

                                            >”You, Clerical. Because you don’t participate, isn’t that right?”

                                            >Normally it would be but this has been anything but a normal year.

                                            “A-Actually, I… I signed up!”

                                            >You feel yourself shrinking back, shrivelling up with every word until you’re sitting there waiting for your inevitable demise at the hooves of the only pony who could frighten Nightmare Moon herself.

                                            >Those green eyes continue to watch you, probably searching for any sign of falsehood or deciding on which part of you she should go for first.

                                            >Against what you expect, though, Oddsy relaxes enough that she sits back on her cushion.

                                            >”You signed up.” She sounds almost amused. “Submit, herself, signed up.”

                                            >What can you say to that?

                                            >Okay, she was clearly banking on a decidedly un-secret santa with you if things didn’t work out and now you’ve thoroughly torpedoed that.

                                            >And now all the fight that was in her seems to have left. She’s just sitting there, looking at her papers on your desk.

                                            >”Guess the universe really does have a sick sense of humour.”

                                            >This isn’t the Oddsy you’re used to but sitting here quietly has always worked in the past, why shouldn’t it now?

                                            >”Or maybe it’s a sign of the times. Maybe my luck’s going to change.” She suddenly looks back up at you. “You’ll put a note in, right?”

                                            >It takes a moment for what she’s said to register with you - it’s not exactly a demand, it’s about as close to a request as you’re ever likely to get from the mare.

                                            >So you nod, slowly so she can make no mistake of the gesture.

                                            >”And I won’t have to kiss you and you won’t go crying to Santa Pone about it?”

                                            >No-Hey! You’re not some cryfilly who keeps a bottle of Appleloosan Comfort at hoof whenever you start thinking about how another year’s gone by and you’re still left unfilled and unfulfilled!

                                            >Well, not any more…

                                            >But Oddsy still sits there, watching you and waiting for your answer.

                                            >Celestia, does she really think you’d do that?

                                            >How can one pony be so cynical?


                                            “I-It’s just tradition,” you say, glancing up at the mistletoe, “that’s all.”

                                            >”Yeah, well, I’m saving mine for somepony else.”

                                            >Oh? Does Oddsy have a cute pegastud or florist of her own?

                                            >Or maybe the mysterious model she was so upset about.

                                            “Who?”

                                            >You don’t even think about asking the question and you obviously forget who you’re asking it of.

                                            >Or maybe it’s the fact that Oddsy’s already back on her hooves and making for the door.

                                            >She turns back over her withers and gives you a smirk.

                                            >”Who do you think?”

                                            >You really couldn’t say, nor do you want to dwell too much on the thought of her actually kissing another pony.

                                            >Looking back down at her forms, you can’t help but hope this is the year she finally gets an assignment. Something has to go right for her and maybe it’d help turn things around.

                                            >Maybe the next time you see her, you won’t have to worry quite so much over what’s in store for you.

                                            >You levitate a pen to yourself and jot down a little note on the post-it for Oddsy’s forms before you forget.

                                            >’Santa Pone, I know you already work hard to find perfect matches for everypony but can you please work extra hard on this one? She deserves some extra cheer!’

                                            >There, you’ll put that in the comments section of the spreadsheet for Oddsy’s entry. And considering who it’s going to and the size of her heart, there’s no way another year can go by like all the others.

                                            >And it won’t, if your own is anything to go by.

                                            >Entering the secret santa, meeting Aster, and now… g-going out with her.

                                            >You feel another one of those goofy little smiles tugging back at your lips and it’s impossible to resist.

                                            >The little clock on your computer shows the deadline’s past and your work is done. All that’s left to do is sort out the last few forms from today and you can make your way to Aster’s cosy shop.

                                            >Okay, okay, it’s not really a date as such. At least you don’t think it is.

                                            >You don’t even know each other! But maybe this can be the start of getting past that and on to better things.

                                            >Like snuggling up with a special someflorist for Hearth’s Warming and sharing all of your warmth and being filled with holiday cheer!


                                            >The signups are closed, your office is locked up, and your heart flutters in your chest because you’re still just Clerical Task, about to face something you thought you never would.

                                            >No, not the café across the street, even though you are facing it right now.

                                            >There’s already plenty of ponies there, some in costumes, some not, all enjoying hot drinks and tasty treats.

                                            >And soon enough that’ll be you too.

                                            >W-With a cute mare sitting with you!

                                            >Ohhh, there goes your heart again… Which it shouldn’t because this is just two potential friends going out!

                                            >Although that isn’t going to happen if you continue to just stand here on the sidewalk and gawp at other ponies enjoying themselves.

                                            >So turn to your right and head towards the street you know a certain cosy little florist is, Clerical.

                                            >It doesn’t help that this late in the day there’s also plenty of ponies taking up a lot of space, some of whom gave you odd looks as you stared across the street.

                                            >Not because they know the filthy, dirty thoughts that’ve occupied your mind so close to closing the office.

                                            >Why, nopony could possibly know that as you sat on your comfortable cushion you sorely wished that it was an equally comfortable florist instead, with her forelegs around you and her lips on your neck and seductive words whispered to you now and then… A-And her impressive girth keeping you warm.

                                            >Hey now! What did you say about those thoughts?

                                            >And you cannot start thinking like that out in public where you don’t have a soft cushion to catch any, uh, tell-tale signs of that thinking.

                                            >”’Scuse me.”

                                            >Ah! You almost bumped into somepony!

                                            >Okay, that’s it, you have got to keep your mind on the matter at hoof: completing the precarious journey to… what was the name of it?

                                            >Aster’s Peony Palace? No, no, she wouldn’t call it something as pretentious as that.

                                            >Along these streets there’s mostly cafés, restaurants, some bars, the kinds of places where ponies would love to meet.

                                            >And already are, if the throngs you have to move through are anything to go by.

                                            >It’s awfully tempting to keep your head down from some of the looks you’re attracting but then you think back to Aster and her gentle smile and you realise… it doesn’t matter, does it?

                                            >There’s a pony that likes you and at the least isn’t bothered by your festive fashion sense.

                                            >As you pass along the street into the older part of the city, the stores become smaller and more personal. There’s even the last few stalls from the market open but the ponies manning them don’t cry their wares this late.

                                            >Alright, it’s just around this corner and into this little street and there it is!

                                            >’Aster’s Flowers’.

                                            >A humble, unassuming name for a far lovelier mare.

                                            >As lovely as the painted roses and daisies on the wood paneling below the front window, giving way to creeping vines that run up along the door frame and across the shop’s name.

                                            >Oh, there’s even somepony inside, should you wait here?


                                            >Oh Clerical, why would you wait outside?

                                            >It’s not like it’s a private residence or something, you can just walk in and pretend you’re another customer having a look around.

                                            >And there aren’t any other ponies on this little street so it’s unlikely any will come in after you. You can ask Aster what the plan is in comfort.

                                            >Okay, going in and asking a cute mare out!

                                            >Haha, no! That’s silly! S-She already asked you out…

                                            >You’re greeted by the most wonderful assortment of sweet smells as you push the door open with a hoof.

                                            >Most of the flowers you couldn’t hope to recognise but there’s every colour and, you’re sure, every possible shape of petal. Looking in through the window and seeing all that was what convinced you this was the right place to look for mistletoe.

                                            >Sure enough, Aster hadn’t laughed at your request as you’d expected of somepony asking for something like that so close to Nightmare Night.

                                            >Instead, she’d just smiled and said something about you getting an early start on it before the stocks started running out.

                                            >”So you’re all signed up now?”

                                            >Hmm, that sounds like a stallion. Then again you didn’t get that good a look from outside.

                                            >”Yep! I don’t know what you were talking about, it sounds easy enough.”

                                            >And that’s definitely Aster. Even if you didn’t recognise the voice, she’s the only other pony here.

                                            >”Easy for you, maybe. I still don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

                                            >You should probably not listen in on their conversation but with the size of the shop, it’s a little difficult.

                                            >”Hey, that’s not true, you could cook up something great for the pony you’re matched with.”

                                            >”Yeah, as long as they want something they can eat.”

                                            >Hmm, should you pick up some flowers? You don’t want to walk up to the desk empty-hooved, looking like you’ve been skulking about back here.

                                            >”Trust me, it’s gonna be fun and we’re gonna have a good time.”

                                            >”Just… promise you’ll help?”

                                            >Okay, these blue ones smell really good and the colour reminds you of a certain pegasus. Might be nice to have some of these back in your apartment to remind you.

                                            >”Any time, Cl—Oh, hello! Sorry, I didn’t see you come in.”

                                            >Huh?

                                            >You look back up from the flowers, only now realising your head’s poking around the corner of the arrangement and you’re now in clear view of Aster and… and…

                                            >B-Blue pegasus stallion?

                                            >You might not remember his name but you definitely remember that coat and mane combination!

                                            >”Clerical, good to see you again!”

                                            >It’s Clery to your friends but you can’t get that out now, not when you’re meeting the eyes of the stallion you’ve waited to see again.

                                            >Now right here with Aster.

                                            >Two ponies you definitely would not mind warming your hearth, in spite of how that little part of your mind angrily insists you need to stop thinking of that sort of thing right now.

                                            >”You know her?” the stallion asks, turning back to Aster.


                                            >”Sure do, she’s the mare from the signups.” Aster turns to the stallion, back to you, and then back to him. “Why? Are you two friends?”

                                            >Friends? You and Mr. Pegastud?

                                            >Ho mare, you would not mind that at all! But… You’re not sure how close to ‘friends’, ‘awkwardly announcing your foalish thought process only to try and hurriedly correct yourself’ is.

                                            >”I just met her at the signups, too.”

                                            >Oh.

                                            >No, why ‘oh’? What were you expecting?

                                            >T-To get stuck in the middle of a kiss sandwich between these two lovely ponies?

                                            >Hahaha! Don’t be so silly, Clerical! You’ve a better chance of being the filling of a very different kind of sandwich.

                                            >”... and you never told me about this friendly mare?”

                                            >That’s what you get for zoning out again.

                                            >Aster’s after coming around from behind the counter, walking confidently towards you and she’s putting a foreleg over your withers right now.

                                            >... W-What?!

                                            >”Well we’re going out for something to drink but since you never told me, I guess you’ll just have to miss out on it!”

                                            >Catching herself, Aster drops her smug smile and looks right at you, then at the foreleg she has around you, and quickly pulls it off.

                                            >”Sorry,” she says, offering you an apologetic grin.

                                            >You so, so badly want to tell her that no, she wasn’t being presumptuous at all and could you please, please put your foreleg back around there and maybe also levitate some mistletoe overhead while you’re at it?

                                            >But the pegasus stallion looks between the two of you and nickers.

                                            >”It’s fine, Aster, I’m glad you are.” He picks up a small bouquet of flowers from the desk that you hadn’t noticed, and puts them into a saddlebag at his side. “It’s… nice to see you going out with somepony else.”

                                            >Aster looks at you and you at her, and you find yourself unable to keep a smile from your own lips at seeing hers.

                                            >”Yeah, it is nice.” She bumps against your side. “Speaking of which, I was just about to close up and come get you when Cloud Puff showed up.”

                                            >Cloud Puff! That was the name!

                                            >Mystery stallion no more, now you know what name to use when he’s holding your hind legs open while Aster does her thing down there.

                                            >Bumping against you in a very different way that doesn’t feel any less good.

                                            >And, uh… You’re zoning out again!

                                            >You swear, it’s the sweet scents of the flowers that make you think of being in a warm, spring meadow with these two.

                                            >So instead of just standing here thinking, you should really say something, shouldn’t you?

                                            “W-Would you like to come too?”

                                            >Oh great, the moment you decide to stop thinking quite so much, you stop thinking at all.

                                            >What did Aster just say to him? Joking, of course! But now you’ve gone and spoiled it.

                                            >”Thanks but I’ve got a few things to do.” Cloud Puff waves a hoof after fixing the flowers in his bag. “But I wouldn’t mind walking there with you.”

                                            >Neither would you but oh mare, is that a little relief you feel? Why?


                                            >Y-You weren’t feeling down at the thought of your drinks with Aster not being quite so intimate! So what if she’d wind up sitting beside her friend rather than beside you where you could lean up against her and tell her how glad you are that you met? You wouldn’t mind!

                                            >Except, looking back at her and how close she stands to you, you kind of would.

                                            >Even if she sits across the table from you, it’d just be the two of you.

                                            >With her getting a little cream stuck to her upper lip that you’d have to brush off with a hoof [spoiler]o-or repay her for that kiss earlier.[/spoiler]

                                            >”Sounds like it’s settled,” Aster says, unfortunately stepping away from your side. “Lemme just get my sweater on and we can go.”

                                            >She heads behind her desk and through a door at the rear of the shop, Cloud Puff watching her go before he turns back to you.

                                            >”Hey, Clerical?”

                                            >You didn’t realise you’d taken a few steps after Aster and now stand closer to the stallion.

                                            >”Thanks. For doing this.” He nods towards the door Aster left through. “She’s really looking forward to it.”

                                            >It takes a moment for you to work through what he’s said and when you do, there’s only one thing you can say in response.

                                            “She is?”

                                            >”Yeah, she doesn’t get as much of a chance to go out.”

                                            >Oh right, you hadn’t considered that. Probably rushed off her hooves at this time of year with ponies putting in big orders for parties and whatnot.

                                            >So you’ll have to make sure Aster has a good time this evening.

                                            “Guess I should be even more glad we met, huh?”

                                            >”Trust me, I know she feels the same.”

                                            >Maybe it’s the gentle tone he speaks with but you find yourself remembering your anxiety-riddled explanation to him on the day you met.

                                            >And his own admission of his fears. So should you really be that surprised that cares for his friend and wants her to be happy?

                                            >”Phew! Wish I’d thought of this earlier!”

                                            >And seeing Aster step back through the door, now in a cute blue sweater and yellow scarf, you do too.

                                            >”Wait, is that the—”

                                            >”Nope!” Aster cuts off Cloud Puff. “It’s just the little thing I wear when it’s cold, Cloudy.”

                                            >He looks ready to say something about that but, after a glance at you, he shuts his mouth and nods.

                                            >”Besides, I don’t want to feel underdressed with Clerical wearing something so nice.”

                                            >Yes! You were right! She does like it!

                                            “Oh, this old thing?” You are not grinning like a foal while you tug at your sweater with a hoof. “I-It’s just something to help ponies get in the festive spirit.”

                                            >”Well she’s right, it is pretty funny.” Cloud nickers again. “‘Horsemas’? Who came up with that one?”

                                            >You don’t say it was you who had it made after that first time you heard Oddsy using her ‘regional term’ for the holiday.

                                            >Mare, you do not want to remember the way she blew up, either, sure you were doing it just to mock her.

                                            >Took a while but you managed to convince her it really was because you thought it was charming.

                                            “Just a friend,” you settle on, hoping that suffices without giving too much away.


                                            >”Well you’ll have to tell me all about them,” Aster says, trotting up beside you, “on the way, unless you want to get caught up in the evening rush.”

                                            >”Nah,” Cloud Puff offers, coming over to your other side, “she doesn’t wanna miss out on a good time with my bestie.”

                                            >Ho, mare! A-As if getting flanked by these two isn’t a good time in itself!

                                            >No, sir, you do not feel your cheeks start to heat up as the two look at you with smiles!

                                            >But just to be safe, you nod rather than say anything, and the three of you make your way from the shop.

                                            >It’s only a minor shame that you have to file out the door of the shop before the two resume their positions at your side.

                                            >Just imagine it Clerical: Hearth’s Warming dinner with Cloud Puff and Aster seated at either side of you.

                                            >And a perfectly festive sprig of mistletoe overhead, supplied by the lovely florist and hung by the handsome pegasus.

                                            >But you can’t start thinking about that right now!

                                            >It’s not that long a walk back to the café and Cloud already asks you what you’ve got planned, now that the signups are closed and you’re finished for the day.

                                            “Oh, well, uh, y’know, I was just gonna go home and maybe check my p-mails in case I missed anything. Somepony always sends something on the weekend.”

                                            >Much to your annoyance; don’t they know other ponies have lives too?

                                            >Except you, of course, because you’ve just realised Cloud was probably asking if you were going to a party because tomorrow is a public holiday. And of course you didn’t mention anything about that because why would you, of all ponies, be going out?

                                            >Anypony that was going to send you a p-mail is probably already out having fun.

                                            >”Really? Well, there’s this little thing I was going to, later, if you didn’t have anything else to do,” Cloud offers, looking at you from the corner of his eye as the three of you navigate the press of ponies on the sidewalk.

                                            >You’re about to say that you might when Aster speaks up.

                                            >”C’mon, Cloudy, she’s had a long week and spent her weekend helping ponies sign up. You really think she wants to go to…” She smirks. “That fancy-dress party?”

                                            >Cloud snorts and stomps a hoof particularly hard against the path as he steps.

                                            >”It’s not a ‘fancy dress party’! It’s the Canterlot bi-mon-sci-fi-con! We just like to dress up for Nightmare Night, like everypony else.”

                                            >”And every other week,” Aster mumbles, clearly trying to suppress a laugh.

                                            >You, however, have other ideas.

                                            “Canterlot has a sci-fi convention that frequently?”

                                            >Ideas like: why haven’t you heard of it before?

                                            >”Well,” Cloud says, lingering on the word, “it’s more like a big club, I guess. But we do sometimes have guests!” He cocks an eyebrow at you, after nearly missing somepony bumping into him. “Interested?”

                                            “Yeah!” you say, maybe just a little bit too enthusiastically.

                                            >Because Aster erupts into laughter.


                                            >”I can’t believe it! Hahaha! I make a new friend and she’s a total nerd like Cloudy!” But maybe it’s the way you try to keep the smile on your face that makes the mare bump against you and say, while still chuckling a little, “which is great, because nerds are cute.”

                                            >O-Oh.

                                            >That one has you shifting your glasses back with your magic! Did she really just...

                                            >”Hey, you’re one to talk,” Cloud slyly comments, “don’t you have a big collection of Neighponese… paper thingies?”

                                            >Still smiling, Aster rolls her eyes.

                                            “Wait, you mean origami?”

                                            >The eye-rolling stops the moment the word leaves your mouth and even Cloud looks at you with surprise.

                                            >Oh mare, you just outed yourself as an even bigger nerd, didn’t you?

                                            >”Thank you, Clery.” Nerd or not, hearing your nickname puts a smile back on your face. “I’m glad somepony here has an appreciation for the arts. Which is why she’s not going to your club tonight, she’s coming back to my place to relax and watch some Nightmare Night classics.”

                                            >You may not be the most perceptive pony in Equestria but you’re sure you see Aster’s smile become just a tiny bit strained.

                                            >”If you’d like to, I mean. And you really don’t have any other plans.”

                                            >You nod quickly.

                                            “Sounds like a good time to me!”

                                            >Curled up on the couch with her, getting all scared which would mean Aster having to put a hoof around you to keep you safe? Hoho, does that sound like a good time…

                                            >And still less intense than even a small club-convention… clubvention?

                                            >But you’re definitely going to remember that! Which is why you give Cloud your p-mail and ask him to send the details on to you.

                                            >Aster doesn’t even seem to mind that you’re getting all excited about it again, she just walks alongside you with the biggest grin.

                                            >Even after Cloud started saying her ‘bargain bin horror flicks’ weren’t artistic, and she objected that Midnight Mayhem was a classic for the ages.

                                            >Even if the boom mic was in-shot for many of the scenes?

                                            >Hey, that just added to the low-budget charm!

                                            >Ending with Aster bumping against your side again as she asked what you thought of it.


                                            >Instead of having to admit you hadn’t seen it, you realise the three of you stand before the café - full of ponies.

                                            >You can’t stop yourself from letting out a groan but Cloud’s good enough to offer you and Aster a place at the club if you change your minds. He’d love to stick around, though, but he really had to get home and put on his… Well, he just blushed and hurried off before saying what.

                                            >You’re about to suggest just getting something to go. As much as you don’t like it, there’ll be other times and, thinking about it? Maybe Aster would even invite you to her home early where the two of you could get all snug on her couch and share drinks more personally.

                                            >”Hey there!” a voice calls out to one side of you, stirring you from those thoughts.

                                            >Seated next a blue-ish pony, is a mare with a light pink coat under her blue turtleneck and a blonde mane poking out from under her festive hat. She’s waving for the two of you to come over, which Aster already does.

                                            >Huh. Looks like you’re not the only pony keen to get into the spirit of things early. Fine by you!

                                            >Although this mare does look a little familiar…

                                            >”Are you two looking for a seat?” she asks as you and Aster approach. “We’re just about finished up here, if you’d like to join us.”

                                            >Sure enough, there’s two seats opposite them. Side by side.

                                            >Aster’s already making her way over so clearly she has no problem with the prospect and you do your utmost best not to too giddily trot over to sit on the cushion next her.

                                            >Still, you spare a smile to her and she to you, giving you a little bump with her shoulder.

                                            >”It’s good to see you again,” the pink mare says, looking at you.

                                            >And now that she does, you have to admit she looks familiar.

                                            >Beautiful pink coat, shimmering blonde mane, a smile that lights up the world more than Celestia’s Summer Sun Celebration… No, it can’t be. She doesn’t live in Canterlot. But she knows you, so…

                                            “Chuckles?”

                                            >Impossibly, her smile widens even more.

                                            >”It really is good to see you, Clery.”


                                            >Maybe it’s because Aster is by your side as you seat yourself, or maybe it’s because the world beyond her and the other mare dies away under the warmth radiating from Chuckles, or maybe it’s because you’re still Clerical Task.

                                            >Whatever the reason, you can’t help but smile just as widely back because you can’t quite find the words right now.

                                            >Because Chuckles was one of those ponies you always looked forward to seeing..

                                            >Whose gentle cheer and kind words did much to foster a more festive feeling on the threads.

                                            >Which made it all the more difficult to face her question as to whether you’d be joining in, each year.

                                            >There was no judgement, of course, not from her, but you still suspected that every pony less that didn’t sign up was disappointing.

                                            >Even if she did always assure you that it was okay, everypony needed to take these things at their own pace and find their own time where they’d be comfortable enough to join.

                                            >But you don’t want to think about that right now and not only because there’s a part of you screaming to tell her the good news.

                                            >Right now you’d much rather think about Aster sitting so close and how you’re surrounded by friends.

                                            >At least, you’d like to think the mare at Chuckles’ side would be somepony you could count as a friend.

                                            >It… doesn’t hurt that she’s so pretty, too. Light blue coat and a mane shades of blue.

                                            >All of it really makes her rose eyes pop.

                                            >She has good taste in drinks, if the warm scent of the coffee from the mug sips at is any indication.

                                            >But too late do you realise the four of you have been sitting there silently while you should be a good friend to Aster and introduce her.

                                            >”And it's so good to see you’ve brought a friend,” Chuckles says, indicating the mare by your side with a hoof.

                                            >A friend you can’t resist the urge to bump against, nor smile so wide when you see how she smiles after it.

                                            “Mmhm, this is Aster. Actually, she signed up today for the first time.”

                                            >Chuckles looks between you with a growing smile.

                                            >”Really?”

                                            >”Really!” Aster replies, then looks back to you with a quirked eyebrow. “Y’know, the funny thing is that I was, uh, kind of thinking of not doing that. Because…” Aster looks at you, you look at her, and you feel your cheeks redden with hers at the memory. “Ah-hah, that isn’t really important! W-What’s important is that Clery convinced me to sign up and join in the fun with her.”

                                            >And there’s that smile again, the one that makes your heart flutter and your hooves feel lighter than air.

                                            >Chuckles, however, looks between you with a curious expression.

                                            >”Join her?” An expression that’s broken by a smile. “Clery? Does that mean… ?”

                                            >W-Why are you nervous? You should be happy about telling the pink mare that you’ve finally given in!

                                            >Although nervousness might be the wrong term - it might be that you’re too excited to speak or do much of anything but grin and nod.


                                            >Chuckles’ reaction is just as subdued as she nods and lets out a quiet, “hmm.”

                                            >See? That wasn’t so difficult, was it?

                                            >”Oh, but where are my manners?” You almost jump from the sudden exclamation by Chuckles. “I haven’t introduced my new friend here - Scrubbadub!”

                                            >”Hey there,” the mare says, with a little wave of her hoof. Sadly the table’s just large enough to prevent any of you leaning over and shaking hooves without more than a little awkwardness

                                            >”This is her first year joining us, too.” Scrubbadub nods, the long mane that spills out from underneath her cap waving about. “Which reminds me, do you know where that place is?”

                                            >Scrubbadub nods again and tilts her head off towards the street. “Yeah, it’s on the west end o’ town.”

                                            >Hmm, is that a slight Manehatten lilt you can pick out in her accent? She sounds more like she’s from here but it’s impossible to tell for sure with some ponies.

                                            >”And you’re happy with what we decided?”

                                            >The blue mare looks down into her cup for a moment before responding.

                                            >”Think I’ll be happier once I get started.”

                                            >”Hey,” Chuckles says quietly, placing a hoof on one of the mare’s, “you’re going to do great, okay? Anypony would love to get something like that.”

                                            >Scrubbadub tries for a smile but you’ve worn that expression enough times yourself to know when it’s being forced.

                                            >”Yeah but soap? Isn’t that kinda… lame?”

                                            >Chuckles pats her hoof. “It’s not just soap, and it’s not lame because you’ll be making it. Nothing made by your own hooves is something to feel bad about.”

                                            >Her response is a deep grimace and a frown.

                                            >”I guess. I still need to find somewhere to get the oils for it.”

                                            >She’s making soap? By herself? Celestia, homemade soap sounds absolutely wonderful…

                                            >And you’re just about to suggest, in spite of how little you know, that she could ask a perfumer about the scents when Aster speaks up.

                                            >”You need oils for soap?” Chuckles and Scrubbadub both turn to her in unison. “Well hey, I run a florist and I’ve supplied some of the smaller perfumers here so I’m sure I can help. And if you’d like, I could recommend some scents!”

                                            >When Scrubbadub looks back to the grinning pink mare, you’re glad to see some of her own smile return.

                                            >”See? And you said your sister can help you with the soapmaking, too.” She taps the mare’s blue hoof again. “You don’t have to do this alone, Scrub’.”

                                            >”Ah geeze,” Scrubbadub mutters, shaking her head, “thanks youse two.”

                                            >But that’s the truth, isn’t it?

                                            >Your meeting with Cloud Puff made you realise you weren’t the only pony who was so nervous about joining and now, having met Aster, you’ve somepony else you can share the joy of this event with.

                                            >It’s a little disappointing that you couldn’t offer your own assistance but knowing exactly the kind of pony you now call your friend is like, does leave you smiling brightly.

                                            >After giving her p-mail, Aster turns to you and asks what your choice of drink is while Chuckles and Scrubbadub converse amongst themselves.


                                            “Mare, I could go for some nice, hot cocoa.”

                                            >You punctuate your statement with a small shiver, silently wishing you could’ve got a seat indoors. But then that just gives you an excuse to keep close to Aster, right?

                                            >”A mare after my own heart,” Aster says with a sly grin.

                                            >W-What? No!

                                            >You are definitely not trying to win Aster’s heart all for yourself!

                                            >Even if it is a beautiful thing, from what you’ve seen so far…

                                            >But that’s not what she meant, is it, Clerical?

                                            >”Marshmallows or cream?”

                                            >Ah, the impossible choice rears its ugly head once more.

                                            >Sweet marshmallows or rich cream?

                                            >You do sometimes take a little cream in your coffee which meant you more often sprinkled a few marshmallows in your cocoa.

                                            >But thinking about how cute Aster would look with a little dollop of cream stuck to her nose leaves you hoping she’d find the reverse just as charming.

                                            >Still…

                                            “Hmm, both?”

                                            >Argh! What?

                                            >What kind of pony has both, like some kind of Mane-iac.

                                            >”Y’know, I like the way you think, Clery! Let’s make it a double.”

                                            >... Well!

                                            >If anypony even thinks to ask, you’ll just point out that your good friend has impeccable taste so no, it’s not too much.

                                            >Your good friend who’s gone off to order the drinks and, along with it, pay for them.

                                            >Why didn’t you think to pay? Aster’s the one doing you favour by going out with you.

                                            >Without thinking about it, you crane your neck about and look over to the building your temporary office is- was located in.

                                            >How many times did you stare out of it, over here, and wish you were one of the lucky ponies sitting with somepony special?

                                            >And okay, yeah, you only really met Aster as anything more than somepony you bumped into, today, but it feels like you’ve known her longer.

                                            >The way she talks to you, so warm and personable, it makes all that unease and awkwardness just melt away.

                                            >Even if you still think about going back to her place to watch scary movies together.

                                            >Which means Aster will have to put a hoof around you and assure you that with her long sword, no harm will come to you!

                                            >... Why not think about how you should buy some snacks on the way back to her place instead?!

                                            >Even though you can think of something else you’d much rather snack on.

                                            >”... should be along any second now.”

                                            >Thank you, Chuckles, for distracting you from thoughts you really shouldn’t be having in crowded places.

                                            >”Like right about now?” Comes a voice from behind you.

                                            >A voice that, you see, belongs to a kirin with the most striking red coat you’ve ever seen.

                                            >Not that you’ve seen that many kirin but even among ponies, you can’t recall seeing one so vibrant.

                                            >And you’ve definitely not seen a kirin with a mane like that!

                                            >It looks almost like a star or possibly a leaf from one of Equestria’s more northerly forests but it can’t be natural, can it?

                                            >She even has white freckles to match the white dappling on her rump! How can one kirin be so cute?


                                            >”Always on time, Maplecakes,” Chuckles says as she drains the last of her cup.

                                            >”What kind of friend would I be if I wasn’t, Chucklest?”

                                            >”That reminds me, I hope you don’t mind if somepony else joins us.” Chuckles tips a hoof towards Scrubbadub. “I’ve a new friend who needs a little help.”

                                            >”Well, then.” Maplecakes puffs out her chest and puts a hoof to it. “It’s a good thing you’ve got another friend to assist!”

                                            >For herself, Scrubbadub wears that goofy little smile you know for a fact you’d be pulling just the same if you were in her position.

                                            >Because this, right here, was the true spirit of Hearth’s Warming laid bare.

                                            >The spirit you’d gone so long resisting when those ponies from that site only wanted to share it with you.

                                            >”You really didn’t have to come all the way out here.” But her tone is gentle and her voice soft, as Chuckles speaks.

                                            >Maplecakes, however, shakes her head causing her thick white mane to swish about.

                                            >”Pfft! And I told you that if you wanna get some good hongmu wood then you need somepony who knows it.”

                                            >”Because it’s the same colour as your coat?”

                                            >”Exac—” Amazing, really, how somepony could go from looking pleased as punch to pretty peeved so quickly. “What’re you saying?”

                                            >The two lock eyes, Chuckles with a wry grin and Maplecakes staring daggers.

                                            >You feel yourself begin to shrink into your cushion while Scrubbadub looks more curious than anything.

                                            >D-Doesn’t she know what happens to kirin when they get mad?

                                            >Ah! Are those white-hot flames licking at the edges of Maplecakes’ mane? Where’s Aster when you need her to save you‽

                                            >”Snrk!” But it doesn’t take long for Maplecakes’ facade to crack along with a smile across her lips.

                                            >A smile that quickly disappears as she bursts into laughter, even as Chuckles rises from her cushion and puts a hoof out while trying to contain her own amusement.

                                            >The hoof is taken eagerly and the pink mare is drawn into a hug she just as eagerly returns.

                                            >”Oh, mare! It’s been too long!”

                                            >No, Clerical, the only thing licking at the edges of Maplecakes’ mane is the pom pom on Chuckles’ festive hat.

                                            >”Huh, I missed all the excitement.”

                                            >You were so focused on those two that you didn’t even notice Aster coming back, levitating a tray with two steaming mugs and… two plates?

                                            >Why yes, Aster, now that you mention it, a sweet pastry would go pretty well with an equally sweet mare and cocoa that’s just as hot!

                                            “Just old friends catching up, I think.”

                                            >Because old friends like to joke around with each other, right?

                                            >No need to always assume the worst. You’re not Oddsy.

                                            >You may not have much experience with it yourself but you should still know it.

                                            >”Hey, maybe one day that’ll be us!”

                                            >You sincerely hope the smile you give Aster is as wide and as warm as the one she wears while saying that. Especially since she’s given you one of those little bumps as she sits down.


                                            >But now Chuckles and Scrubbadub are both standing beside Maplecakes, with the latter two shaking hooves and talking amongst themselves.

                                            >The pink mare turns back to you with her signature smile.

                                            >”Well, that’s that for now.” Her eyes turn towards your friend. “Aster, it was a pleasure to meet you.” And your friend’s cream mane bobs as she nods back, her mug at her lips. “And Clery?” Just like that, one of her forelegs is around you as she squeezes you to her chest. “I hope you have the happiest Hearth’s Warming!” You hold her for a moment, stretching one of your own forelegs around the mare. “I know I will, now.”

                                            >And with that, the three depart together, leaving you and Aster alone with only your mugs of cocoa and plates of pastries.

                                            >”You really have some amazing friends, Clery.”

                                            >It’s the quietness of her voice more than her words that draw your attention back to Aster, from the three ponies making their way down the street.

                                            >She’s sitting looking into her mug, stacked with cream and dotted with marshmallows, with a small smile.

                                            >You’d like to think of them as your friends, even if they’re ponies you only meet once a year. They certainly mean that much to you.

                                            >It’s not like you don’t know they’re on the site the rest of the year but it’s not really the same.

                                            >So much else has changed this year, however, so who’s to say it has to stay that way?

                                            >Besides which, you can certainly think of one pony you’d like to see a lot more than just at Hearth’s Warming.

                                            “Yeah, I really do.”

                                            >You’re glad Aster is looking at you when you say it.

                                            >Almost as glad as you are to see how she smiles when you say that.

                                            >Because it’s almost as sweet as the smell that rises from your mug.

                                            >Which now that you finally have, you can busy yourself drinking from rather than sitting there staring at the pretty mare by your side!

                                            >”It’s funny, y’know? If Cloudy hadn’t told me about this event, I never would’ve met you.” She shuffles on her cushion and, you’re absolutely sure of it, moves a little closer. “I’d probably already be back at home, watching a movie by myself and…” She takes a slow breath. “And wishing I wasn’t.”

                                            “Aster?”

                                            >You don’t really think about it, bringing a hoof over to hers and holding it, that is.

                                            >What you do think about is how Aster turns hers over and gives yours a little squeeze.

                                            >”I didn’t want to say it in front of Cloudy-” She snorts. “Or at all, really, but I’m glad I met you.” She gives your hoof another squeeze. “So glad.”

                                            “Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I’m glad I met you!”

                                            >More glad than you can put into words, frankly.

                                            >But Aster just sits there as her smile becomes a little strained.

                                            >”It’s not the same for you, Clery.” Just like that, though, her hoof lets go of yours. “Mare, just listen to me! First pony I spend time with that isn’t Cloudy and I start spilling everything out!”

                                            >Okay, now this isn’t what you were expecting to come out of this evening.


                                            >Maybe another awkward outburst on your part or... g-going in for a kiss only to be rebuffed but especially after running into Chuckles, you weren’t prepared for this.

                                            “Aster, it’s okay.”

                                            >You know it is because it has to be. Because there’s no way this charming, personable pony deserves to be so upset when everything’s going so right.

                                            >”Right now it is, yeah. But it wasn’t always.” Aster shakes her head and doesn’t look back to you as she stares down into her mug. “And a part of me still worries that something has to go wrong.”

                                            >You’re about to move your hoof back to hers but think better of it. Might be better to just hear her out first.

                                            “What could go wrong?”

                                            >She doesn’t reply for a moment as her eyes search about in the cream poking from the top of the mug.

                                            >Finally, she settles on one of the little marshmallows that her magic wraps around and levitates to her mouth.

                                            >”I don’t know and that’s what worries me.” She chews on it and swallows before looking back to you. “I didn’t tell you yet but I’m not originally from Canterlot.”

                                            >Well she could’ve fooled you! She sounds as much like any Canterlot girl you’ve ever spoken to.

                                            “Hey, I’m not gonna hold that against you!”

                                            >You try for some laughter and while Aster smiles in a way that doesn’t look too forced, it quickly fades.

                                            >”That’s not what I meant.” She levitates another marshmallow. “I mean, I thought living in a big city with so many ponies would mean it’s easy to meet them.”

                                            >Now it’s your turn to look down at your own mug.

                                            “Yeah.”

                                            >You poke at it with a hoof.

                                            “Y’know, I work in a big office but sometimes it feels like I hardly know anypony else that works there.”

                                            >You don’t really want to admit that you don’t know anypony personally.

                                            “They even do those stupid company picnic thingies but I always make some excuse not to go.”

                                            >Partly so you can avoid having to watch Magnolia Manila and Paper Trail smooching while you flip hayburgers and burn them because you can’t stop thinking about how you should be the one getting smooches!

                                            >”Right?” You glance over to Aster again, who sports a more sincere smile. “Cloudy’s invited me to his club a bunch of times but I never went because sci-fi isn’t my thing, so what would I talk to anypony about?”

                                            >Just as you’d been hoping you’d managed to get through, she frowns.

                                            >”It doesn’t help that my shop’s down some pokey little street, either.”

                                            “Hey, don’t say that!”

                                            >What are you doing, Clerical?

                                            “When I went looking for my… my mistletoe a-and flowers, I was looking for somewhere small.”


                                            >So you could avoid anypony that might know you, seeing you.

                                            “And I was so glad I found your shop because you have no idea how cosy it feels once you step in there off the streets. It’s exactly the kind of place I prefer going to instead of those big stores.”

                                            >Partly because they feel more romantic but she doesn’t need to know that [spoiler]right now[/spoiler].

                                            “Which means they’re usually run by friendly, charming ponies that you can get talking to and don’t have to worry that they’re just doing it because they’re paid to.” You’ve come this far, you may as well. “Ponies like you, Aster.”

                                            >”A pony who embarrasses a customer by asking awkward questions?”

                                            “It wasn’t what you said.”

                                            >You don’t think of saying those words so it’s nothing short of a Celestia-sent miracle that you didn’t blurt out the real reason.

                                            >And while it’s still a lie, it does contain the kernel of truth that it really wasn’t Aster’s fault.

                                            >Which, at least by the way she looks more relaxed now, has helped.

                                            >”So… you weren’t upset I was prying into your love life?”

                                            “What love life?”

                                            >You neither catch yourself in time to not say that, nor to hold in the start of a bitter laugh.

                                            >Immediately, your ears pin back and you await your sure judgement.

                                            >And wait.

                                            >Only when you crack open an eye and look over to Aster, she just smiles at you with that little smile that melts away all the worry.

                                            >”Not easy to meet other ponies, right?”

                                            “I met you, though.”

                                            >Again, you fail to catch yourself but this time there’s a small part of you that’s glad.

                                            >For her own answer, Aster shifts her hoof back to yours and holds it there, still regarding you with that smile.

                                            >A smile that makes you forget all about the office, the ponies, about Manila, and Paper, about every missed chance and abandoned opportunity.

                                            >Because right now you’re sitting here, in a place you never imagined you would, with another pony just as you always dreamed.

                                            >But even in your dreams, you never could’ve conjured up somepony like the mare that sits by your side.

                                            >Somepony who you’re more glad than you can ever put into words, to have the chance to get to know.


                                            >The reason you can’t keep your eyes off that little wisp of cream that determinedly clings to Aster’s upper lip must be because you’re still Clerical Task.

                                            >The two of you talked much in the time since you revealed your gladness at meeting her, although most of that was Aster doing the talking.

                                            >By her own admission, there weren’t really any other ponies than Cloud Puff that she regularly talked to and so having somepony else to do this with was a strange and strangely lovely thing.

                                            >Those were her exact words, of course, saying ‘strangely lovely’ right as she looked at you.

                                            >You’d wanted to look away but with her hoof still holding yours, something stopped you.

                                            >So now here you are, polishing off the end of that delicious pastry Aster got for you while she still talks about Midnight Mayhem.

                                            >”... not really scary, I know, but there’s this kitschiness to it that’s hard to resist, y’know?”

                                            >You don’t, really, it’s definitely not the kind of thing you’d normally watch but you cannot deny what the prospect of watching it with her does to you.

                                            “So we’re gonna watch that tonight, huh?”

                                            >Not exactly the kind of movie you can curl up on the couch with her, watching, but still!

                                            >”Not tonight.” Oh… “Tonight, we’re only watching movies that’ll knock your cute little socks off!”

                                            >Hahaha! Hoho, Aster, sh-she does not need to do anything but ask you to stay the night for your socks to come right off because you can’t wear socks to bed (unless they’re ‘those’ kinds of socks which you really need to get some of those for the next time) and it’s better to feel your naked hind legs getting all tangled up together and-

                                            >Ho mare, i-is your sweater just a bit too stifling maybe? Because you are definitely not thinking about your new friend in that way!

                                            >Not after she opened up to you.

                                            >Because, looking at the warmth of her earnest smile, you can’t deny how much it must mean to her for you to be doing this.

                                            >And because you haven’t forgotten that you really, truly, definitely do not like mares in that way.

                                            >You’re just… you’re idly fantasising about curling up on Aster’s couch, under a blanket, while the two of you watch scary movies and she holds you when you get scared.

                                            >Because she’s a good friend!

                                            >Not because when you see her smile your heart picks up the pace.

                                            >A smile that grows more strained by the second because you’ve been sitting here ruminating again, Clerical.

                                            “You don’t have to do anything to get me out of my socks, Aster! I’ll take them off for you!”

                                            >... Great, just great. Offering to strip for your friend, she’s not going to think that’s creepily forward.

                                            >Oh look, she’s rolling her eyes at the big creep at her side.

                                            >”And you don’t have to take them off, Clery. I did say they’re cute, y’know.”

                                            >... That’s true! It’s also true that she’s about the only pony who’s said anything about them but y’know what? It means more coming from her than it would anypony else.


                                            >Just as it meant a lot to hear her asking so many questions about the secret santa.

                                            >The gifts, the cards, the community spirit, the fun, the laughter, the… assurance that she really shouldn’t worry about what she put down on her wishlist. Because it’s not like any of the other ponies are all that different.

                                            >Most are worse. Like you.

                                            >But she didn’t need to know you put down two XL Studs. Just the one.

                                            >Mares talk about that kind of thing with other mares, right?

                                            >Not that it mattered, what mattered was that she felt a lot better even if your face burned and your glasses threatened to steam up.

                                            >You felt a little better when she gave you one of her smiles and blushed a little as she told you it was okay, Clery, everypony has needs, right?

                                            >So as you sit here, right now, and watch her taking another sip from her mug, you try so hard to not think about how much you needed this mare in your life.

                                            >It’s easier to think about Cloud Puff and his cute blue coat and green eyes, all dressed up and going with you to the club.

                                            >It’s not quite as easy to think of Aster dressed up and going with you. She’d probably have a riot about the skimpy outfits from schlocky sci-fi.

                                            [spoiler]>Hahaha! W-Wouldn’t that be so funny? Aster in thigh boots and a tight—yet somehow revealing—spacesuit! You should definitely get her an outfit like that so the three of you can have a good laugh about it hahaha![/spoiler]

                                            >Cloud Puff would probably be a little annoyed but they seem like good friends so it’d be okay.

                                            >You’d try to be okay. Try not to stare too much.

                                            >Like you’re doing right now, zoning in on that little patch of cream on her upper lip again.

                                            >Because somepony should probably be polite and clean it off for her.

                                            >”Oh!”

                                            >Sweet Celestia! You hope she didn’t see just how high you jumped in your seat before immediately tearing your eyes off her.

                                            >”Have you even had dinner yet? Oh Luna, look at me taking you out to a café without even thinking to ask something so obvious.”

                                            >Okay, Clerical, hold it together! A cute mare almost-asked you out to dinner but that’s no reason to let your brain short-circuit!

                                            >Just think about it logically - you’re so used to stopping off on the way home from work or, during this season, because you want to get to the temp office as soon as possible, that you did so today. Maybe not ‘dinner’ as such but enough to keep you full.

                                            “I-I’ll be okay, really.”

                                            >Aster studies you for a moment, the look of nervousness shifting into something you’re not quite sure how to read.

                                            >”That wasn’t a ‘yes’, Clery.” She sighs and shakes her place, placing her hoof back on the table to gently tap yours. “And it’s exactly the kind of thing Cloudy says, too.”

                                            >If her hoof wasn’t on yours, you’d probably be tapping your own together while trying not to look at her. Like you’re a filly all over again and your mother’s caught you skipping dinner because you had more important things to do. At least, as you saw it.


                                            >But Aster wouldn’t have her hoof on yours if she was angry, would she?

                                            >You just… need this to go right. Not only for your own sake, although you do feel that little warmth grow when you think about going back to Aster’s place.

                                            >And not only because you want to prove to yourself that you have what it takes to make some real friends that you see more often than once a year.

                                            >But knowing how much this means to the mare at your side, you can’t let her down.

                                            >”Clery?”

                                            >You jump again but not nearly as much this time but it’s almost worth it to feel Aster giving your hoof a little squeeze.

                                            >”It’s okay! I’m not upset.” She turns herself around in the cushion a little to better face you. “But would I be wrong to say you went to the Hay Bale for something quick before you went to the office this evening?”

                                            >By Celestia’s rounded rump, how in Tartarus could she know?”

                                            >”It’s Cloudy’s favourite place when he’s busy, too,” Aster says with a grin.

                                            >And you can’t blame him; there’s just something so good about those crispy hay fries and tender, juicy veggie burgers.

                                            >”How about this, as… one friend to another.” You really do love the way she smiles as she says that. “I know my way around the kitchen, so if you think you don’t have the time just tell me.”

                                            >It’s funny, really, you only met Aster today.

                                            >Well, you met her back in her flower shop before today but this is the first you’re really getting to know her.

                                            >Yet in spite of that, it feels like you’ve known her for years.

                                            >The ease with which the two of you spent your time talking, as if the rest of the café was empty and neither of you needed to raise your voices to be heard.

                                            >The laughter and smiles, the silences that didn’t feel awkward, the… okay, the way Aster stayed close to you and sometimes touched your hoof, yes, you definitely liked that too.

                                            >And now here she is, offering you something you’d never even imagined possible.

                                            “Hey, I can cook!” But you don’t want to push your luck. “I just don’t do it that often.”

                                            >”Mmhm?” Oh, you don’t like the way her grin’s turning! “Sounds like even more reason for me to do it.”

                                            >And you want her to, you really do!

                                            >But the thought keeps eating away at the back of your mind: what if she asks?

                                            >How can you tell her that the reason you don’t cook for yourself if you can help it is because it’s so hard to face that empty kitchen and the table you sit alone at?

                                            >The quietness of your apartment that’s so hard to dispel.

                                            >Looking at Aster’s kind smile just makes your heart ache all the more.

                                            >A kind smile you only see now because, as you said, you met her.

                                            >Just as in you she met somepony to whom she could tell her own fears and tribulations.

                                            >So you push down that treacherous little voice that cries at you not to, you rally your sagging heart, and you turn your hoof up to hold hers.

                                            >You deserve her friendship, her kindness, her thought. Aster wouldn’t have opened up to you if she believed you didn’t.

                                            >She deserves the same honesty.

                                            “Are you sure?”


                                            >Later, when you’re alone with her and you’ve collected yourself, you can tell Aster why your voice is barely a whisper.

                                            >”For you? I’d love to.”

                                            >Later, when you can think of anything other than the little squeeze your hoof receives and the way it makes you wish, so dearly, you had your sprig of mistletoe here so at least you had some excuse.

                                            >To… clean that little bit of cream that’s still on her lip.

                                            >That she now wipes away with a hoof and a smile that turns a little abashed.

                                            >”Sorry! I was hoping you wouldn’t notice before I could do that.”

                                            “What? Hey, I’m not upset! It was just a little cream that I could’ve…” you trail off, realising what you were about to spill like so much perfectly cooked spaghetti.

                                            >Aster, however, has other ideas - namely leaning in a little closer to you.

                                            >”Sorry, Clery, I didn’t quite catch that?”

                                            >Oh shit! Oh no!

                                            “I… uh…”

                                            >Think, you foal, think!

                                            >You can’t let this beautiful mare who puts Celestia to shame know you wanted her thick cream on your tongue!

                                            “Uh…”

                                            >She’s looking right at you!

                                            >No, don’t start leaning in closer to her!

                                            ”I was… saying…”

                                            >”Hmm?”

                                            >It doesn’t matter if she’s not moving away, or that her hoof is still on yours, or that you can feel how lovely and warm her breath is on your nose!

                                            “That… uh…”

                                            >She only kissed you earlier because you were under the mistletoe!

                                            >And that was only on the cheek!

                                            “That…”

                                            >But doesn’t she still deserve your honesty?

                                            >The little voice speaks up again.

                                            >What’s the worst that could really happen?

                                            >If nothing else, you’ll still have the most wonderful friend.

                                            >And she is wonderful, isn’t she?

                                            >So why don’t you see how much more wonderful she could be?

                                            “That I… really—”

                                            >”Hey there!”

                                            “Ah!”

                                            >Never in your life have you leapt quite like that.

                                            >Like somepony had just smacked your nose with a red-hot poker, you immediately recoil from Aster.

                                            >You don’t even know who that voice belongs to but while the entire café had disappeared, leaving only you and this beautiful mare by your side, the pony calling out as he walked past you was like the horn of a train blaring right into your ears.

                                            >Almost enough to knock your cute little socks off.

                                            >Haha! W-Wouldn’t Aster have enjoyed that!

                                            >Aster who looks almost as shocked as you must.

                                            “Ho mare, some ponies, huh?” You speak without thinking, eager to fill the time she (and you) could use to realise what you were doing with something else. “N-No consideration!”

                                            >You do your absolute best to glare after the stallion in question but your heart isn’t in it - he didn’t really do anything wrong.

                                            >Aster, thankfully, just chuckles.

                                            >”Hey, if you’d like somewhere quieter, there’s always my apartment.”

                                            >And you can’t stay looking after some random stallion when your friend is talking to you.

                                            >Nor when you see the warmth in her expression.

                                            >”I don’t know about you but it’s getting kinda chilly. A cosy couch and warm blanket sounds pretty good to me!”

                                            >Not just to her!

                                            “And good movies, right?”


                                            >You also haven’t forgotten the prospect of… uh… clinging onto her when you get scared.

                                            >”Well, I don’t know about ‘good’ but they are pretty enjoyable.” She nods her head down at the empty cups and plates before the two of you. “And since you’re being such a good friend, letting me show you my, ahem, ‘bargain bin horror flicks’.” Okay, that gives you a little nicker. “I’ll pay for this.”

                                            “What‽ But- You don’t have to!”

                                            >”Ah!” Aster holds up a hoof. “This was nice, Clery.”

                                            >It’s the very last thing you expect but maybe it shouldn’t be, considering who does it.

                                            >Put her hooves around you in a big, warm hug, that is.

                                            >It takes a moment for you to register it, however. That this lovely, lovely mare who’s been so close to you this whole time is now hugging you so tightly you can barely breathe.

                                            >Which means you should give her the same treatment!

                                            >And mare are you only too glad to put your hooves around her and hold her.

                                            >You don’t have to worry because it’s exactly what it looks like: two friends sharing a hug because they care.

                                            >Even if you have to admit another little kiss to your cheek wouldn’t go amiss right now.

                                            >You’re even sure you’re the one who lets go first, followed a little slower by Aster.

                                            >And she doesn’t move as far away from you as she was before, before saying, “really, really nice.”

                                            “It was,” are the only words you can find to say, “but only because of you.”

                                            >Her hoof had trailed down your foreleg, back to your own again, and she gives it a little squeeze when you say that.

                                            >Hey, she’s still pretty close to you.

                                            >It’d be easy as all Tartarus to just… l-lean over and…

                                            >”So let me keep it going by treating you.”

                                            >Let her keep talking.

                                            “O-Okay.”

                                            >You’re kinda glad of it, honestly, because when Aster does get up after giving your hoof another lovely little squeeze, you can collect your thoughts.

                                            >You are pushing way too hard, Clerical.

                                            >You only met her today! And okay, yes, you clicked like you wouldn’t believe but at least give it some time.

                                            >She’s not going anywhere.

                                            >She likes you.

                                            >She likes you…

                                            >You just had the most magical evening with another pony because she genuinely enjoyed spending that time with you, and you with her.

                                            >So stop overthinking things and just let whatever happens, happen.

                                            >Because when you think back to it, the talk about her with the Secret Santa was enjoyable in itself.

                                            >And not just because her gentle blue eyes caught the fading evening light so perfectly, or how her mane hung over one side of her face and threatened to hide it from you but never once did.

                                            >But because when she talked about meeting Cloud Puff on the day he told her about it, she couldn’t believe how terrified he’d said he was.

                                            >How could he be? Meeting new ponies, getting to know them, exchanging gifts for no other reason than to spread happiness and friendship? What was not to love about it?

                                            >Where poor Cloudy was all nerves, Aster couldn’t have been more excited.


                                            >Even if she was so quiet when she told you she really did hope the promise of getting to know other ponies and even form friendships, through it, was true.

                                            >Especially the way she looked at you when she said she absolutely believed, now, that it was.

                                            >Mostly, however, you just think about how good it felt to sit there by her side and enjoy her company in those small moments where neither of you found anything to talk about.

                                            >But also, found no need to say anything.

                                            >So when she returns from being inside the café and offers her hoof, you gladly take it and let her help you up from the cushion.

                                            >And when she leads you from there, off through the twisting streets of Canterlot, neither of you find the need to say much again.

                                            >But that’s okay.

                                            >The two of you walk close together and you know, deep down, Aster enjoys it just as much as you.

                                            >”So… I was thinking we could start off with Mareos the Hooves of Fate. It’s pretty bad but we should save the really scary stuff for…”

                                            >Until she starts talking like that.

                                            >Aster just bumps herself against you when you realise you missed her question.

                                            “H-Huh?”

                                            >”I said, I’ve got a couple of Hearth’s Warming horror specials, if you’d like to watch them.” You were not expecting her sly grin. “Unless you’d prefer Leather Kirin Mares from Planet Five.”

                                            >You almost stop in your tracks but still gawp at her.

                                            “You’re kidding!”

                                            >Aster, however, cocks an eyebrow at you and her smile doesn’t lose its slynesss.

                                            >”So you’d like it?”

                                            “W-What? No! I- I didn’t…”

                                            >She’s laughing.

                                            >Okay, not quite laughing but certainly nickering.

                                            >”Y’know—hmhmhm—I say the exact same thing to Cloudy and he gets just as flustered!”

                                            >Hey! You’re not flustered!

                                            >You just weren’t prepared for the thought of sexy kirin mares in tight leather outfits…

                                            >They are tight, right?

                                            >And you’re about to ask when Aster mercifully stops you from doing so.


                                            >”Sorry, Clery, guess I’m used to messing with him because I know he hates those movies.”

                                            >Her expression’s a lot more sincere now and you can’t help but recall her earlier joke about nerds being cute. [spoiler]Do not blush, Clerical, it was only indirectly calling you cute![/spoiler]

                                            >So you give her a little bump with your hips.

                                            “Well… if you like them, they can’t be that bad, right?”

                                            >She goes to say something but then stops and just nods, clearly trying to hold in some laughter.

                                            >It’s not much longer before Aster pulls up in front of a building down one of Canterlot’s quieter streets in the old quarter.

                                            >Places here can be pricier but this doesn’t look like some expensive suite and isn’t much bigger than your own place. Maybe she got a good deal.

                                            >It’s a little out of the way, too, and an older building. You’d say that just adds to the charm but the style seems more modern these days.

                                            >”And this is me!” She rolls her eyes. “Us, rather. I mean, if you’d still like to come in.”

                                            >The sun’s down but there’s plenty of street lights to get you back home.

                                            >Although it’s chillier than earlier and even with your (cute little) socks, the prospect of getting inside, under a blanket, with a (cute little) mare by your side is too tempting to forgo.

                                            “As long as it’s with you.”

                                            >”Oh.”

                                            >Your heart skips a beat upon hearing that, then another at the shy little smile Aster dons when she doesn’t quite look you in the eyes.

                                            >”W-Well, uh, there’s… ahem, just one thing you should know before you come in, then.”

                                            >You’re about to ask.

                                            >About to.

                                            >Ask.

                                            >But you already have your answer.

                                            >At least you think so.

                                            >From the way Aster leans forward and slowly, gently presses her lips to yours.


                                            >Maybe if you were somepony else you’d know what to do with this beautiful mare kissing you but instead, you’re just Clerical Task.

                                            >You lift a foreleg and then promptly put it down.

                                            >Should you put it around her? Try to take her hoof in your own? Would she be okay with you holding her? Is she going to hold you?

                                            >These questions and many more are what stop you from doing much of anything, most especially enjoying this, while Aster leans in a little more.

                                            >An involuntary squeak makes its way out of you and the other mare’s eyes flick open, then wider when she sees that you’re standing there, frozen.

                                            >Then… Then she stops kissing you.

                                            >”I…”

                                            >No!

                                            >Aster just kissed you in a way you only ever dreamed of being kissed.

                                            >She asked you out to the café, she opened up to you, she asked you back to her place, and now she’s the one who kissed you.

                                            >Stop worrying over every little thing and show your friend you can be just as brave as she is!

                                            >”I’m sorry, Cl-Mmph!”

                                            >You swear, you put your hoof to her chest just to feel if her heart is beating as fast as yours is.

                                            >It’s not because you got scared of putting it around her and this is the best you can do.

                                            >Or that you’re focusing as much of your attention on what your lips should be doing right now because this might possibly be your first actual (Hearth’s Warming!) kiss.

                                            >And while you can feel Aster stiffen up, and that does send a cold chill running down you, it’s the way she raises a hoof to yours that warms you right back up.

                                            >The way she leans slightly into you, that makes your ears droop back and your tail flick to one side.

                                            >How you’re absolutely sure you can feel a few stray wisps of her mane stirring against your face when she tilts her head slightly that leaves your legs feeling weak.

                                            >That little tug she gives to your hoof to draw you in closer that makes your heart beat faster and your hooves clumsily step forward.

                                            >Mostly, however, it’s the warmth of her lips and how strangely soft they feel. It’s that little shiver that runs down your spine every second you’re like this. It’s how sure you are that you feel one run through Aster, too. And it’s the simple, earnest pleasure in being here with her, sharing this which leaves you sure there’s no need to worry.

                                            >Even when the kiss does end and you wonder if she’d mind if you went back in for another.

                                            >You’re not worried about it, no, but you are sure that you’re the only one whose eyes flutter open and who needs to compose herself for a moment.

                                            >Especially because, standing close to the streetlight outside her apartment, as it hums to life and casts its light over the mare in front of you, you’re not sure how you missed that she looks so beautiful.

                                            >You’re not one for waxing poetic but there’s just something about her coat and the way it catches the light to highlight every gentle curve in her body. And what a body she possesses; is this what mares who like other mares see in them?


                                            >You might just possibly be coming around to the idea that you’re one of those mares who just happens to also be attracted to mares.

                                            >That kiss certainly helped.

                                            >And… oh. Yes, Aster leaning back in to tenderly nuzzle your cheek is definitely helping even more.

                                            >You can’t be blamed for returning the favour, it’s only polite!

                                            >Her coat being so soft does mean you mind doing it that much less.

                                            >”Uh…” Even her voice is soft! “Well… Sh-Should I apologise more often?” Oh, her lips are so close to yours again! “I mean, if you’re going to do that every time I do, then...”

                                            “Oh, um, I…”

                                            >You want those lips to stop being so tantalisingly close and touch yours again!

                                            >”It’s okay, Clery.” Aster rubs one of her hooves against your foreleg. “I… guess I owe you an explanation, huh?”

                                            >Not that she has much opportunity to even start on it or you to dwell on why ever she’d need to explain to you why you couldn’t resist kissing her.

                                            >A group of foals, laughing  and chattering in costumes, gallop past you on their way to their next seek treats from.

                                            >You’d almost pulled yourself away from Aster, worried what they or anypony else might think of the two of you so close together like this.

                                            >Almost.

                                            >But if she’s happy to stay right here, leaning in against you, why should you worry?

                                            “Why don’t you tell me, inside?”

                                            >Where those words come from, you couldn’t possibly say. Had you taken the lead even once this evening?

                                            >And why does the idea of taking the lead over Aster make you feel excited in a way that feels so good?

                                            >“Okay.” Her voice is breathy and her hoof gives your foreleg a little squeeze, making the rest feel all weak and shaky suddenly.

                                            >You’d just asked a cute mare to take you into her apartment and she’s okay with it! Granted, Aster already asked you in but you gave it that last little push needed.

                                            >And now… Oh, now, Aster awfully pulls her face away from yours. Her eyes shine, and shine so beautifully, under the streetlight and her smile makes your legs feel even more like all the strength’s just leaking out of them.

                                            >But that’s okay, because she comes around and presses her flank against yours and you can lean into her and let her help you along.

                                            >It might be more justifiable if she kept her hoof around your foreleg but she does, at least, lean her head back over against yours as you take up the pace beside her.

                                            >She levitates a set of keys from somewhere you don’t see and slides them into the lock of the door - the imagery is not lost on you and you dearly hope she doesn’t feel your cheeks start to heat up.

                                            >W-Will she slide her key into your lock, later?

                                            >Your glasses slip down your nose as you try to angle your face away from Aster’s but she sends her magic over to wrap around the bridge and slides them back up.

                                            >It makes you shiver and not just because of the tingling sensation of another unicorn’s magic on you.


                                            >She doesn’t say anything about it, or about anything else, and you’re more than happy to allow the silence to sit comfortably between you as you climb the stairs alongside her.

                                            >They’re just wide enough to accommodate two ponies side by side and oh, would you look at that? The hallway’s wide enough for it, too! Guess you’re not escaping the gentle warmth of Aster’s body so easily, are you?

                                            >It takes all your effort and gathered concentration to not whimper when you draw up at the door of her apartment and Aster turns her head just enough to nuzzle your chin.

                                            >Maybe if you were to get used to it, it’d be easier to suppress that and you absolutely could get used to it.

                                            >You hear, rather than see, her key turning the lock and then the slight squeal of the hinges as the door opens.

                                            >And inside?

                                            >It’s not quite the same as your own apartment but it’s not that different, either.

                                            >But where yours feels empty even for its smallness, Aster’s feels cosy.

                                            >There’s a vase with fresh flowers—you know they’re fresh because you can smell them even here—sitting on the worktop of the kitchen area. You’re sure you catch the warm smell of fresh bread, too.

                                            >Two trailing plants hang from pots on the opposite wall that leads towards a living area, complete with a pair of seats and an exceedingly comfortable and perfectly-sized—for two mares—looking couch.

                                            >”C’mon.”

                                            >That’s all Aster says - not ‘welcome to my apartment’, or ‘what do you think’, or ‘let me show you to the bedroom’; with a flick of her magic she shuts the door after the two of you and leads you onward into her home.

                                            >The loud clopping of your hooves on the wooden floor quickly muffles through the thick rug that runs from the kitchen area onward. Straight towards the couch.

                                            >You can just about see a laptop sitting on the low table in front of it and already your mind fills with images of Aster curled up under a blanket, filling in the forms for the Secret Santa.

                                            >Levitating a cup of cocoa by her side as she gets all snug, hemming and hawing about one of the things she’s going to put on her wishlist.

                                            >Maybe a little more as she considers asking for, oh, you don’t know, maybe a cute little nerd of her own?

                                            >Looks like her santa’s going to have some more trouble because Aster already has one!

                                            >... Wait. You want to be Aster’s cute little nerd?

                                            >With her still pressed against you as the two of you come up in front of the couch, the warmth of her body tangible even through both your sweaters, the undulations of her hips against yours that treacherously plant images way too lewd to be thinking right now in your mind - the thought from earlier returns to you.

                                            >You really, really like this mare. Maybe it really is okay for you to feel like that.

                                            >After all, Aster just gave you your very first Hearth’s Warming kiss outside. And do you wish it was with anypony else?


                                            >The only thing you wish, right now, is that you were still smooching.

                                            >You’re just about to ‘accidentally’ turn your head so that your lips happen to bump into each other when Aster steps aside from you.

                                            >With one hoof she points at the couch and then taps your foreleg, before saying, “have a seat.”

                                            >She’s not quite looking at you either but you can just about catch a glimpse at a smile. That’s one less thing you have to worry about, at least.

                                            >But another takes its place as you do as she asks and seat yourself on the end of the couch you’re standing in front of.

                                            >It really is quite soft, the plush cushions allowing you to sink into its embrace.

                                            >Aster, however, doesn’t immediately join you.

                                            >She looks to the other end of the couch and then the spot just next to you.

                                            >Back and again.

                                            >She lifts a hoof and puts it down.

                                            >Finally, Aster takes a breath and decides - she slowly climbs into the spot just next to you while you suppress a giddy squeal of delight.

                                            >Instead, you content yourself with extending a hoof and putting it around her foreleg just as she’d done outside the apartment building.

                                            >Unexpectedly, Aster almost jumps and looks straight up at you.

                                            >And the two of you just… stay like that for a moment. Looking at each other.

                                            >You hadn’t noticed she’d turned the lights on, only that her cream mane almost glows in the gentle light.

                                            >The curves of her face and the way her scarf sits so beautifully under it.

                                            >This pony, this gorgeous mare, kissed you.

                                            >She kissed you.

                                            >You didn’t have to ask, or suggest, or clumsily try for it, yourself.

                                            >For whatever reason, you were worthy of that affection.

                                            >”So…”

                                            >If Aster’s voice were louder you might’ve jumped from your seat entirely but as it is, it simply stirs you from your reverie.

                                            >”We should talk.”

                                            >You give her foreleg a little squeeze, just as she’d done to you.

                                            “About… what happened, right?”

                                            >”About… what it means.”

                                            >W-What it means?

                                            >A beautiful mare kissed you and you kissed her back! That’s all! You’re not, haha, you’re not some flaming homo!

                                            >But as Aster lifts the hoof of the foreleg you’re holding and takes your hoof in hers, the thought suddenly presses itself to the fore of your mind - would it really be so bad if you were?

                                            >If it meant… loving Aster?

                                            >And okay, you don’t have to give up loving stallions—because you still do love them, especially a certain blue pegasus but not right now because hahaha you don’t need to start thinking about being the filling in a kiss sandwich with these two okay—and you don’t have to love all mares but would it really be so hard to love just one?

                                            >So you turn just a little and face Aster more properly but are careful to keep her hoof in yours as you wait for her to go on.

                                            >”It’s stupid, really.” You so want to object, to tell her nothing about her is stupid but even you know this is one of those times to just listen. “It started the day you came to my shop.”

                                            >Ah.

                                            “Aster, I—”


                                            >”No.” She gives your hoof a squeeze. “Clery, you did not do anything wrong, okay? I… I saw you and I thought, oh wow! She is so cute. Just… Even the way you pushed your glasses back up your nose, it was cute. And then you came up to the counter and suddenly I realised I had to actually talk to this cute mare who, as it turned out, was also really friendly!”

                                            >Hey, c’mon, that’s not fair! You’re not… c-cute. Even if your heart does leap when Aster says that.

                                            >But you do try to be friendly. Especially to nice ponies who run cosy flower shops.

                                            >”My, uh, opinion on that hasn’t changed at all, by the way. My point is, you’re cute and friendly and exactly the kind of pony I wanted to get to know. That I could maybe… maybe even call a friend. B-But I got greedy.” The hoof holding your own falters ever so slightly and now it’s your turn to squeeze it, “When you asked for some mistletoe, the first thing I thought was - what if I was the cute mare she wanted to meet under it? I-If you even wanted to meet a mare. Then, when you didn’t say anything.” For a reason you should be apologising to her over. “I knew I kinda fucked it up, put my hoof in it. Again. Let my mouth run ahead of my head and probably made you feel like you never wanted to set hoof in there or see me, again.”

                                            >You give her hoof another squeeze.

                                            “Funny how that worked out, huh?” It’s impossible to resist the urge to shuffle on the couch until you’re just a little bit closer to her. “I-I can’t imagine ever wanting to leave you, now.”

                                            >Maybe that was a little much but right now, you don’t care. Aster needs to hear it.

                                            >”I couldn’t have imagined this when Cloudy told me about you.”

                                            “Me?” you squeak out the word.

                                            >“C’mon, Clery.” She snorts but it’s not like earlier. It’s softer. “He’s a stallion, you’re a cute mare in cute little glasses, cute little socks, a pretty pink mane and an eye-catching blue stripe in it; how could he not want to tell me all about you?”

                                            >Oh wow! S-So when Cloud Puff and Aster were each walking on either side of you earlier, that was because they really do… ?

                                            >Ho-ho-kay Clerical, one step at a time! Focus on this cute mare of your own in front of you, first.

                                            >”And what you do for the Secret Santa and what it’s about and… Yeah, like I said earlier, a chance to make some new friends. Maybe make amends, to somepony I hoped would be one of them.” Is that a little blush you see creeping onto her cheeks as she rubs one with a hoof? “But uh… then I saw you had the mistletoe up. My mistletoe. And you were sitting under it and I was sitting under it and I was getting up to leave anyway and it’s tradition and things went so well so… So maybe I thought this was my one chance to kiss the beautiful mare who came to my shop and might never come again.”

                                            >Oh, no. No, Aster, you will definitely be coming again.

                                            >... To her shop!

                                            >”Funny how that worked out too, huh Clery?”


                                            >You shrink back just a little into the couch, desperately trying to keep this stupid, goofy smile off your face.

                                            >Once again, you can’t be blamed for kissing her back! Everypony knows it’s impossible to resist kissing cute mares!

                                            >Especially when she smiles in just the way she’s doing right now, even closer. Close enough that it’s a real, true struggle to resist kissing her.

                                            >”But-”

                                            >There’s always a ‘but’. Even in the many instances where you didn’t get far enough to hear one, you knew one would always be waiting for you.

                                            >And not the kind of butt you were really interested in. Especially not yours.

                                            >”We need to talk about this. About… us.”

                                            >Your heart picks up speed again.

                                            >Us.

                                            >There it is.

                                            “W-What about us?”

                                            >You repeat the word but it feels like it lacks the weight Aster put on it.

                                            >”I like you, Clery. Really like you. Quite a lot. Probably made that much clear outside, though.”

                                            “Well I like you too, Aster.” No turning back now, might as well go all in. “And… uh, there was the café, too.”

                                            >”That’s what I mean.”

                                            >She’s looking at you now, holding your attention so easily with those soft blue eyes.

                                            >”I said a lot back there and you told me some things, too. I get the feeling that, for both of us, they’re not things we’ve told many ponies, right?”

                                            >You don’t even need to think about it before nodding.

                                            >”Right. So I don’t know about you but I was feeling pretty… emotional.”

                                            >You nod again.

                                            “It was good to say all of it. I’m not sorry about that, Aster.”

                                            >”Neither am I!” The smile that’d started faltering returns briefly. “But when we got here and you still wanted to come in and I realised, I was actually going to get to spend tonight with this mare who’d given me the best day I’ve had in so, so long, I…”

                                            >But when Aster trails off, it leaves you unsure of what to say to fill the silence.

                                            >It’s like back at the café where the whole world drifted off, leaving just the two of you.

                                            >It was something magical.

                                            >Aster doesn’t deserve to feel bad about that, she didn’t do anything wrong.

                                            >Not outside the apartment, either.

                                            >You liked that!

                                            >And you’re about to tell her when she goes on, “I just want you to be sure you did that because you wanted it, too.”

                                            >Her gaze is intense as she finishes that sentence and the weight of her words hangs heavily between you.

                                            >You don’t need to think about what to say in reply, however.

                                            “I wanted it too, Aster. I just hope it was good enough for you.”

                                            >”For me?”

                                            >Oh Celestia, is it as cute when you squeak like that?

                                            >”There’s no ‘enough’ about it, Clery. I never even imagined a pony like you would kiss me back like that. But that’s what I mean; I want you to be sure you wanted to do it because you wanted to. Not because you felt sorry for me.”


                                            “Do you feel sorry for me?” Once again, you don’t think before speaking. Aster, thankfully shakes her head. “I haven’t had any more luck making friends, Aster. Or finding that special somepony. I… I kissed you because I wanted to, because I liked how it felt when you kissed me and I wanted you to feel that.”

                                            >”A special somepony, huh?”

                                            >She shuffles a little on the couch, angling her body more towards you.

                                            >”That’s what I wanted to talk about.”

                                            >Maybe you grip her hoof a little too tightly, maybe because you’re excited. Or maybe because you’re afraid.

                                            >But Aster just grips it right back.

                                            >”We don’t… have to rush into that. We can take it slow.”

                                            >Relief replaces whatever mix of emotions just swelled up in you. Alongside a pleasant warmth as you realise she absolutely did not say she didn’t want it.

                                            >”We should take it slow. I wanted a friend, Clery, and you wanted one too, right?”

                                            >You shuffle a little on the couch, drawing a hind leg up so you can better turn to her.

                                            “I don’t think I could ask for better.”

                                            >”So we’re friends. And if we decide we want more, well… I’m okay with that.”

                                            >You can’t keep your other hoof from taking Aster’s, nor can she keep her from doing the same.

                                            “I’m really okay with it.”

                                            >And you are.

                                            >You really, really are.

                                            >You can think it all over in time but right now, it doesn’t matter if Aster is a mare. She’s sweet and kind and already you can see how thoughtful she is. And how she makes you laugh.

                                            >This is the kind of pony you want in your life. As part of your life.


                                            >”So let’s just be friends. Friends who…”

                                            “Who both needed what happened outside?”

                                            >”Who… wouldn’t mind if it happened again?”

                                            >You move a little closer and so does Aster, enough that you can feel her breath on your nose as you’re sure she can yours on hers.

                                            “I wouldn’t mind.

                                            >“Neither would I.”

                                            >Both your voices are whispers, both your lips barely apart.

                                            >Both of you go to kiss each other.

                                            >But it’s not like outside.

                                            >It’s not desperate and needful, it’s not long and slow and something that makes you wish it’d never end.

                                            >Your lips touch, hold for a moment, and then the two of you part.

                                            >Smiling like a pair of idiots in love.

                                            >”So! Uh… movies!”

                                            >Just like that, the world is back but a little brighter - helped along by the warmth of Aster’s smile and her shining eyes.

                                            >”I’ll get Mareos, Leather Kirin Mares, It Came From the Everfree, and whatever else looks good. Forgot about the snacks and drinks, you don’t mind helping with those, right?”

                                            >You don’t mind that Aster hasn’t let go of your hoof even after moving back from you.

                                            “Just tell me where to look!”

                                            >Suddenly, the idea of sharing a couch with her, watching movies, sounds even better now.

                                            “Oh, and, Aster?”

                                            >”Hmm?”

                                            >She’s slipping off the couch and she still hasn’t let go of your hoof!

                                            “W-Would you mind if I… got a blanket for us?”

                                            >”Oh.”

                                            >It takes her a moment to say that and for her smile to widen a little more.

                                            >”It’s okay, I know just the right one.”

                                            >For cosy snuggles with your new g-… good friend under!

                                            >You’re absolutely sure, now, that this night couldn’t possibly get any better.


                                            >It’s not because you’re cold, it’s because you’re Clerical Task that you’re so glad of sitting under the blanket, here with Aster.

                                            >To any theoretical onlookers, they might think otherwise - there were a couple of times you did shiver but that was only because when you suddenly jumped and latched on to Aster for safety, she held you back.

                                            >You understand why Cloud Puff had to laugh at her choices, now; It Came from the Everfree really was bad but some of the scares were genuine, partly because you weren’t expecting them from a movie like this.

                                            >But it didn’t matter because you had Aster right here to keep you safe!

                                            >Under her cosy blanket with trailing plants embroidered on it.

                                            >You were almost afraid to eat any of the popcorn at first but that changed when Aster levitated it over to you.

                                            >She’d do that every so often afterwards, too. You couldn’t complain.

                                            >You definitely didn’t complain when she’d point out, nickering behind a hoof, the many instances of boom mics being in shot, or trailing wires, somepony’s rump just sticking in from the edge, and the absolutely terrible costumes.

                                            >It’s been a great night!

                                            >Apart from that one instance where Aster regretfully told you she couldn’t find her copy of Leather Kirin Mares.

                                            >Then took great delight in turning your face progressively redder, in spite of your best efforts to hide it, by describing the outfits in detail.

                                            >Leaving nothing to the imagination, hot mares, hot stallions, suggestive scenarios, and the tantalising insinuation that there exist sequels.

                                            >You were only slightly relieved you weren’t watching what sounded like it amounted to softcore porn with your new friend.

                                            [spoiler]>Maybe if you become more than friends it’ll give you some ideas.[/spoiler]

                                            >But apart from that? Which, you had to admit, was still in good fun. Especially when Aster gave you a little nuzzle and said it was okay, she got that flustered the first time she watched it.

                                            >Apart from anything else, you got to spend time with somepony you really like.

                                            >And now here you are, trying to keep your eyes open as you realise you don’t even know what time it is but moreso that you don’t care. Aster’s warm and soft, her hoof holds you against her body, the last movie you’re watching together is winding down and she’s just been the perfect accompaniment to the whole evening.

                                            >You may have pulled your forelegs up and leaned a little more into the mare at your side at some point.

                                            >You may also have felt her leaning back and to one side against the arm of the couch, letting you rest more comfortably.


                                            >Hard to believe all of this started because of Cloud Puff; if he hadn’t come in, you never would’ve gone to Aster’s shop for the mistletoe, never would’ve met her, or again in the office, never would’ve… been kissed by her, and then again tonight.

                                            >If you hadn’t met Cloud Puff, you never would’ve signed up. Just another year where you watch everypony else put themselves out there and have fun.

                                            >Another year of the ponies you know trying to gently encourage you to join while you feel yourself shrink as you search for excuses.

                                            >Another year where you assure yourself next year it’ll be different. Even though you know, deep down, you’ll do it all again.

                                            >Aster shuffles against the edge of the couch, pulling you a little closer to herself.

                                            >Now, though?

                                            >Now you only hope the pony you’re matched with is half as good as the one you’re cuddling up to.

                                            >Which you’ve no real doubt about, because you’ve watched them year after year and you know they’re good ponies.

                                            >Even if you also know what they’d say if they knew Submit got herself a- a friend.

                                            >Two friends!

                                            >You just need to get to know the other one better.

                                            >But right now you’re happy where you are.

                                            >You turn your head to the side and back, looking up at Aster.

                                            >She watches the TV for a moment longer before realising you’re looking at her, then looks down to you and smiles.

                                            >A smile that, you’re sure, makes you quite literally melt onto her.

                                            >Or at least lay your head against her, your thick mane tumbling to her side.

                                            >But Aster just keeps holding you, under the warmth of the blanket.

                                            >The knowledge that you’ll need to leave soon rears its ugly head but that just makes your body feel heavy and sluggish as you imagine dragging your hooves clear across the city to your apartment.

                                            >Wouldn’t it be perfect to stay right here?

                                            >She’d made the loveliest tea that did nothing but make you feel even more relaxed and at ease with this equally lovely pony.

                                            >A lovely pony you wouldn’t at all mind asking you, after taking your hooves in her own, if you’d stay the night. Stay with her.

                                            >Keeping one of your hooves in her own as she leads you to her bedroom.

                                            >Aster pulling your socks off with her mou-horn while you take off her sweater.

                                            >Slipping under the covers of her bed with her, the two of you nose-to-nose as you say your goodnights.

                                            >Neither of you entertaining any thoughts of it being anything but a very good night.

                                            >M-Maybe another kiss? Just a goodnight kiss!

                                            >Definitely falling asleep with your head on her chest, her hoof on your back, and the warmth of two ponies gathered together in love and joy to spirit you to sleep.

                                            >Yeah, just perfect…


                                            >You find yourself back at your apartment, shutting down your computer after one last check over the thread for the night.

                                            >It’s always such a thrill to see everypony having fun, even if some of it makes you want to hop into bed and start dreaming up a storm about some lovely pony, ready to—

                                            >"Clerical Task!" a voice suddenly booms behind you.


                                            >You practically jump in your seat, letting out a terrified squeak before spinning about to confront whoever’s broken into your apartment!

                                            >Only… it’s not a pony, not any kind you’ve ever seen before.

                                            >It’s an alicorn! But strange and ephemeral, dark and beautiful, and wearing a surprisingly revealing robe that frames her back and hind legs kind of enticingly and maybe if you weren’t still shivering from that shock you might even think that the long shadow poking out from between her hind legs almost looks like a Naughty Kirin XL Stud—

                                            >"I am the Ghost of Hearth's Warming Dickings! For far too long YOU-" She punctuates that word with a foreleg thrust towards you, hoof pointed accusingly. "Have neglected the needs of your body and the true meaning of this most sacred holiday!"

                                            >The ghost’s mane swirls about her, body hovering just above your apartment’s floor as she moves closer to you.

                                            >Her eyes glow with an ominous light and you feel yourself backing up in your chair.

                                            >”Before I pass my judgement upon you, speak! What has stayed your hoof from joining in these festivities?”

                                            >Your heart thunders in your chest, your hooves shiver against the floor, and sweat beads at your brow as your mind scrabbles to think.

                                            >What in the name of Celestia is even happening? Mom and dad never told you about this!

                                            >Do all chaste ponies face this kind of judgement if they don’t get so much as a kiss under the mistletoe?

                                            >”Speak!” the ghost commands, now practically floating over your shaking body.

                                            “Aaah! I’m sorry, spirit, please don’t hurt me! I-I’ve tried to find somepony to share Hearth’s Warming with, I really have but—”

                                            >”But?”

                                            >You’re scared.

                                            >Scared of how you’ll let them down. Scared of not being good enough for them.

                                            >Scared that if you put yourself out there, open yourself up to those other ponies, you’ll just get hurt.

                                            >”What a waste.” The ghost’s voice reverberates around your apartment. “You have even been gifted a most auspicious pseudonym by the ponies of the event you oversee and yet still, you have squandered the opportunities afforded to you.”

                                            >It’s true…  All this time you could’ve taken just one chance, just once.

                                            >The only thing you’ve ever ‘submitted’ is to your fears.

                                            >”In light of this, I see no other recourse but—”

                                            “Wait!”

                                            >”Hey!” a voice calls from… behind you? “Leave her alone!”

                                            >The ghost turns her glowing eyes from you and you join her in doing so.

                                            >You look behind, turning your chair about and see…

                                            >The back of Aster’s shop?

                                            >Cloudy’s flying towards you, flapping his wings furiously.

                                            >”If you know so much about Clery, how did you forget that she signed up to this year’s event?”

                                            >That’s right! This is the year you decided to finally take that chance! And it was because of Cloudy!

                                            >”Do you think we don’t mean anything to her! We’re her friends!”

                                            >You know that voice, it’s Aster’s!


                                            >Both ponies flank you, standing close enough that you can feel the heat of their bodies.

                                            >”More than her friends! We’re going to make sure Clery has the most Hearth Warmingest year ever!”

                                            >The Ghost of Hearth’s Warming Dickings looks between the three of you, now seeming far less large and intimidating than before.

                                            >”So it is.”

                                            >She begins to float back through your apartment, raising a hoof to point at you again.

                                            >”But know this, Clerical - I shall be watching. If you allow this holiday to pass by without relief again, I shall return!”

                                            >Her voice echoes in your ears as she dissipates into a cloud of mist and then you’re once again left in your apartment.

                                            >With the rear half of Aster’s shop still somehow attached to it.

                                            >And Cloudy and Aster still by your sides…

                                            >”We’ll always be here for your Clery,” Cloudy says, taking one of your hooves.

                                            >”And we’ll always warm your hearth.” Aster takes your other hoof as she says that.

                                            >Both ponies lean in towards you… And… they… both…


                                            “Eep!”

                                            >With a start, your eyes bolt open and you dart upwards.

                                            “Oooh…” you groan, falling back with a ‘flump’ as you screw your eyes shut against the light.

                                            >Why do the dreams always end before the good part?

                                            >You must’ve slept on quite a bit if the sun’s streaming in the window over you.

                                            >Which is fine, today, because it’s still the weekend!

                                            >And that, coupled with signups now being closed, means you’re free to devote your day to other pursuits.

                                            >Such as meeting up with Aster and Cloudy.

                                            >You don’t actually remember making those plans last night but it’s the kind of thing you would’ve done, or Aster would’ve said it to you.

                                            >But you were pretty sleepy when she helped you off the couch and you can’t really remember much after that warm, fuzzy feeling from lying together, watching movies.

                                            “Mmm.”

                                            >You turn to your other side and smile; Celestia, you can just feel Aster’s warmth if you close your eyes!

                                            >And that slightly floral scent that follows her still fills your nostrils. It’s impossible not to smile and take a long, deep breath while pressing your nose into the bedclothes and imagining they’re Aster’s sweater.

                                            >Mmhm, sweet and floral, just like her!

                                            >It’s an impossible task not to pull the heavy duvet about yourself and squeeze it between your hind legs as you get as snug as physically possible and imagine being squeezed by a certain seafoam pony.

                                            ”Mmm, Aster…”

                                            >One hoof around your chest, something thick squeezed between your hind legs, and her other hoof stroking along your stomach until she—

                                            >Wait a minute… you don’t use a heavy duvet like this on your bed.

                                            >And you don’t use anything that’d give it a scent like this when you wash it.

                                            >Come to think of it, since when does your bedroom window catch the rising sun?

                                            >Your eyes snap open and you look straight up; plain white ceiling? Check. Comfy pillow? Check. Light duvet because you get hot in bed? No check.

                                            >No ticking of your alarm clock, either, so no check there.


                                            >You tentatively push the duvet back and lift yourself, blearily looking about.

                                            >Reaching out to one side, you feel the bedside table and your glasses there. Okay, that much is right.

                                            >So you rub at your eyes while levitating your glasses over, gently placing them down and then take a look about.

                                            >This… is not your bedroom.

                                            >W-What the hay‽ Where are you?

                                            >That warm, floral scent hangs in the air and reminds you that you were at Aster’s place last night.

                                            >You were so, so tired after everything that’d happened yesterday.

                                            >And Aster—a-and the couch—was so comfortable, it was a struggle just to get up when the movie ended.

                                            >Then you were leaning against her and she was talking to you quietly, you said something back to her, and… that’s it.

                                            >The fog of sleep still clings to your mind and trying to grasp the memory through it is too difficult.

                                            >So you look about again - a plain wooden wardrobe sits against one wall and near it is a dresser with a beautiful arrangement of flowers in a vase, a couple of hair brushes and bottles next to it.

                                            >A chest of drawers on the opposite wall and a chair with… with your clothes on it!

                                            >J-Just what happened last night? You weren’t drinking, you didn’t give anypony a sexy little striptease.

                                            >So you slide your forelegs out of the bed and frown at the clop of them against the floor. Your bedroom is carpeted. Another thing you can’t check but you’re past that now.

                                            >Your forelegs come down shortly after and you turn back to look at the bed - it’s larger than your own, enough to accommodate two ponies.

                                            >What is going on here?

                                            >”Hm-hmm~”

                                            >Your ears twitch at the sound of somepony humming. Thankfully the door of this bedroom is ajar so at least you know you’re not locked in.

                                            >Not that anypony would’ve taken you prisoner! You’re just… you.

                                            >You’re not important enough to be carted off and forced to work in some diamond dog gem mine as an overseer, keeping track of shipments.

                                            >But as confusing as all this is, something pokes at you from the back of your mind, something that insists this isn’t what you think.

                                            >You turn the thought over as you step towards the door, trying to keep your hooves from clopping too loudly.

                                            >The humming continues and, you have to admit, it is kind of pleasant.

                                            >So you nudge the door open more with your nose and poke it out into the hallway, looking each way.

                                            >It’s short, with a couple of pictures on the walls and a hanging basket near the door.

                                            >”I’ve got all the riches, filly, one mare can claim.”

                                            >And that voice! It makes your ear twitch and that poking at your thoughts to become more insistent. It sounds so familiar but… no, it can’t be.

                                            >Still, it draws your hooves into the hall and makes your body sway as you follow its smooth rhythm.

                                            >”Well, I guess you’d say.”

                                            >Such a sweet sound!

                                            >”What can make me feel this way?”

                                            >Coming from… Aster?


                                            >Sure enough, as you come around the end of the hallway, you see a seafoam pony with a blonde tail, shaking it at you from the kitchen of what, you quickly recall from last night, is her apartment.

                                            >”My girl, my girl, my girl. Talkin’ ‘bout—Clery!”

                                            >You’re not sure which of you is more shocked as Aster turns about, levitating two cups and a pot of what smells like coffee.

                                            >”Uh, g-good morning!” She nickers in a way you’re all too familiar with before setting the items she’s levitating down. “I, uh, I didn’t hear you coming.”

                                            >And now she sounds apologetic? Why?

                                            “Sorry about that.”

                                            >That’s better, you should be the one apologising to her.

                                            >”No, Clery, it’s okay! I shouldn’t have been…” she trails off, shaking her head but when she looks back at you, Aster doesn’t look quite right at you. “Anyway, you’re up now and that’s great! So… great!”

                                            “What-” You can’t stifle a yawn and barely notice your uncovered foreleg. “What happened last night?”

                                            >”You don’t remember?” Aster asks, now pouring the pot’s contents into the two mugs she’s still levitating. “You were pretty tired so that’s not too surprising.” Then she places them onto a tray next the percolator. “Well… We were just about to get onto Vampony Vixens 4 when you, um…” She smiles such a lovely little smile, you can’t help but join her in it. “You started asking if you’d like me to come to bed with you…”

                                            >Oh no! You don’t remember that much but you very clearly remember the talk you’d had earlier about not rushing into things. Oooh, and there you were, trying to get into Aster’s sweater!

                                            “Aster, I—”

                                            >You hold up a hoof, ready to apologise deeply to the lovely mare before you but Aster, naturally, takes it in her own.

                                            >“No, Clery, it’s okay! You didn’t mean it like that!” She nickers again, such a lovely sound. “You even said, before you nodded off, that you’d love to cuddle.”

                                            >Oh.

                                            >You don’t feel disappointed, of course you don’t. It really is better that you didn’t go too far.

                                            >And wouldn’t cuddling Aster have been lovely?

                                            >Just a shame you didn’t wake up when she was still in bed. Or remember it.

                                            >”But…”

                                            >But?

                                            >”That wouldn’t have been fair to you. You were half asleep, I couldn’t be sure if you really meant that.”

                                            >And would you really want to do that with somepony you hadn’t known that long?

                                            >Knowing now what you know about her, having shared the things you have, the idea of doing that with Aster doesn’t feel wrong.

                                            >The fact that she respected you enough to… Wait.

                                            “Was that your bed I woke up in?”

                                            >Was her apartment large enough to have more than one?

                                            >”I hope you don’t mind. Like I said, you were half asleep and I didn’t want to have to send you back through Canterlot so late, so…”

                                            >Aw, geeze, which means Aster probably had to sleep on the couch!

                                            >That’d explain her messy—b-but nonetheless still very attractive—mane.


                                            “You didn’t have to, Aster.”

                                            >Before she can say anything, you lean in and nuzzle her cheek, delighted when she fully returns it.

                                            “But I’m still glad you’re the first thing I see this morning.”

                                            >Oh, Celestia, did you really just say that?

                                            >Okay, okay, maybe you can get away with it if you start laughing! Yeah, it’ll look like you meant to sound corny instead of somepony who’s never even thought about how to hit on anypony!

                                            >”Aw, Clery!”

                                            >Aster’s beaming.

                                            >Actually, sincerely smiling.

                                            >Huh. Maybe this whole flirting thing isn’t as hard as they say?

                                            >”I’m just sorry you won’t get to enjoy your breakfast in bed this morning,” she says with a nod back towards the tray that only now do you notice has a bowl of fruit and another with steaming oats.

                                            >You’re still feeling a little bleary. And it’d be a shame to let all that go to waste.

                                            >And it’s the weekend!

                                            >And you’d even get to be in bed with Aster!

                                            >Okay, maybe that last one is kind of a stretch but the least you owe her is to let her have some bit of rest on her own bed.

                                            “There’s no reason we can’t still do it, right? Just let me get my… my…”

                                            >You touch your hoof to your chest, suddenly hit by the fact that you’re not wearing your sweater.

                                            >Because you were so curious about what was going on that you forgot to get dressed.

                                            >You’re not even wearing your socks!

                                            >And you’ve been flaunting all you’ve got right in front of Aster!

                                            >Whose face falls and she reaches her hoof back out to you.

                                            >”Clery? What’s wrong?

                                            >You hurriedly cross your foreleg over your chest as you feel heat rise to your cheeks.

                                            >Eep!