> Your job at the boutique doesn't pay by the hour > Business rises and falls often enough that a salary is necessary to keep food consistently on the table > Fridays are a little odd > The day time is filled with mending and fitting and last minute purchases > After about 6 PM it goes dead > Rarity busies herself with the commission for next week, idly swapping around bolts of cloth > By seven you have already swept the floor, organized the bobbins, and generally done everything you possibly could > You stand in the middle of the sales floor, trying to remember any other little tasks you could do > Rarity looks up from her work > " Er, Anon, what are you still doing here? It's Friday night, shouldn't you be getting ready to go out with your friends?" > You give her a rueful smile "That sounds like a fine way to pass the time, but I lack the prerequisites. Until then, hanging out in here is enough for me." > You decide to just lie down on the floor, and stifle a moan as your back straightens out > You hear the rustle of cloth and some muffled hoofsteps > "Are you comfortable like that?" > You him in affirmative, your eyes closed in contentment "Very." > After a series of scuffs and shuffles, you hear her let out a feminine sigh > You turn your head to see the fashion horse prone on her back, hooves stretched above her head > "Anonymous, darling, you never told me this was so decadent!" "Glad you like it." > You yawn and settle your back for fully onto the floor > This is nice > Your eyelids start to droop > "Anonymous, I find myself quite unwilling to move. Be a dear and hang up the closed sign, would you?" > With a grunt you get to your feet and stagger to do her bidding > After you lock the door, you lie down next to her again > That little bout of physical activity finished what had been started > Your eyes close as your breathing deepens > The morning sun percolates through the drapes, lightly warming your face > You open your eyes groggily, idly sensing something odd > Memories return as you recognize the ceiling of your workplace > The next thing to register is a warm, supple weight on your chest > You look down upon the sleeping face of Rarity, cushioned on your pectoral > Too cute > You raise a hand slowly, and lightly stroke her mane > So silky > She stirs, and you let your hand drop back to your side > You could watch those sleep-addled eyes forever > All at once she springs up off of you and takes a few steps away > She clears her throat awkwardly, a blush upon her cheeks, and for some reason she's having a hard time meeting your gaze > "Good, ah, morning, yes. Good morning Anonymous. I trust that you slept well?" > Her pupils shrink as she realizes what she said "Very well indeed, thank you." > Rarity dashes off into her bedroom, her face getting redder by the second > You rise slowly, stretching and smoothing out the wrinkles in your clothes > You amble on over to the kitchen and set about making pancakes > Some time later, Rarity emerges and pokes her head into the kitchen > "Pancakes, Anonymous? How delightfully domestic, I had no idea you could cook." > You shrug "Given that my digestive system is a bit different than most ponies, I sorta have to." > You pull out the platter of pancakes from the oven and set it on the table > It is soon joined by butter and syrup and table settings > Rarity is still having a hard time making eye contact, and breakfast passes in an awkward silence > She ends up floating the dishes to the sink > "It's the least I could do, darling." > She keeps glancing at you, to which you can only raise an inquisitive eyebrow > The last dish done, she finally faces you head on > "So who is helping you, Anonymous?" > A little puzzled at her question, you reply, "You are?" > Rarity shakes her head > "You are far too charming for me to believe you haven't been coached upon winning my affections." > You sit down heavily "You think I'm charming?" > You feel your face heat up > Her eyes widen, and a blush rises to her cheeks as well > Just then the doorbell rings > After an awkward pause, both of you get up to answer the door > A flustered glance later, you stay back and let her see who it is > Fluttershy, apparently > You hear her mumble something about a spa, and Rarity gives you an apologetic look > "Mind the store while we're gone, won't you?" > You sketch a bow "As you wish, Rarity." > She smiles a little at that, and leaves with her friend > As silence settles in the store, you know one thing > Next Friday evening will be a bit more interesting