>The restaurant owner sits across from you in his padded chair, tapping his hoof against the desk.
>You can hear the faint sounds of the kitchen coming to life in the background as you lean forward and rest your hands in front of you.
Sir, I--
>”I need you to be straight with me, Anonymous,” he says abruptly. “Are you worried?”
About what, sir?
>He purses his lips for just a moment.
>”About what? Don't play this off like some half-flanked prank. Somep0ny out there defaced this restaurant with malicious intent.”
I wouldn't just jump to that conclusion--
>He cuts you off again.
>”I'm not jumping to conclusions. Graffiti is a prank. I can write off graffiti. A brick in my window, though? I'm less inclined. Especially not in light of recent events.”
You too, huh?
>”Me too what? You're keeping your head in the sand on this, Anon. I don't quite understand why.”
The Guard haven't told me anything about the fire being intentional past what they said two days ago. For all I know, that means they found evidence it was accidental.
>”Look, I know you want to get everything back to normal. It's only natural. Why don't you take the day off, just decompress for a little while.” The stallion looks over the schedule as he speaks. “I can have Whooves cover dinner tonight. Gold is already on lunch. She can use all the experience she can get anyway, I'm sure you'll agree.”
I'm not arguing that with you.
>”You're not arguing anything with me. Normally I'm all for your working as much as possible, but I don't want a repeat of last time you were stressed about something outside of work. Take a personal day and come in fresh tomorrow.”
1/
 
>You rub your forehead wearily and glance up at the clock. It reads six thirty. With a heavy sigh you throw a hand up and rise from your seat.
Alright, fine. I'll leave it with Ginger and Whooves. See you tomorrow.
>”Take some time and relax, Anon. Everything will work out.”
>Whooves catches you on the way out.
>”Everything go alright, Chef?” the stallion asks, looking worried.
Yeah, it's fine. Boss says I should take a personal day. You and Ginger are in charge.
>Whooves looks like he's holding back a smirk. You raise an eyebrow at him.
What?
>He wipes the smirk off his face as best he can and takes a breath.
>”Just I can't imagine what you'd do on a day off. You're always in here, seems like,” he says.
>You chuckle at the stallion's remark.
I'm sure I'll figure something out. Hold the fort while I'm gone. I expect you all to be on your game, as usual.
>”I'm on it. Now get out of here. Go...sleep in or something.”
>The sun has made its way over the tops of Ponyville's buildings and makes the dew sparkle on the grass near Town Hall.
>You walk down Mane Street and watch the first vendors as they set up their booths. Carts filled with produce line the streets, waiting to be unloaded.
>Lily is at the flower stand, arranging a large bunch of daylilly blossoms.
>”Urgh, good morning, Anon,” she yawns as you walk up to her.
Good morning, Lily. Late night?
>The pink mare fiddles with a long-stemmed sage flower and tucks it into the arrangement.
>”You have no idea,” she groans, the flower in her mane drooping. “Just my luck I have to open the stall today. How have you been?”
2/
 
Oh, well, I've been fine. Lots to do at the restaurant.
>You lean down and inspect the sage flowers as Lily heads to the cart.
Say, do you grow any other herbs in your garden?
>Lily comes back over the the display with a bundle of goldenrod and places them on the counter to trim.
>”I think so. Daisy grows the sage, but I'm pretty sure she has a few other plants she keeps around. I can ask her, if you like?”
I would. This sage looks better than what we get from the farm up north.
>”Okay, I'll talk to her later today. She should be taking over the stall at noontime, so you can come by around then.”
Alright, thanks.
>Lily covers another wide yawn and looks at the street rubbing the bags under her eyes.
Do you want a coffee or something? I can make a run down to Sugar Cube Corner.
>The mare looks at you in surprise.
>”You'd do that?”
Sure. I'm up. I might as well do something productive instead of wander around until the market opens up.
>”Well okay, then!”
How do you take it?
>”One sugar, a tiny bit of cream, and a few shakes of cinnamon.”
Okay. I'll be back.
>You start down the street as the town clock strikes seven.
3/
 
>A jingling bell signals your arrival at Sugar Cube Corner to the blue mare behind the counter.
>”Good morning, Anonymous! How are you, dearie? It's been so long since I've seen you!” she cries enthusiastically.
Hello, Mrs. Cake. I'm well. How are the kids?
>”Oh, they're wonderful! They're getting so big now! We've all got our hooves full with them!”
I'm glad to hear that.
>Mrs. Cake beams.
>”So how I can I help you this morning? Danish? Maybe some coffee cake? Pinkie Pie whipped up a batch just this morniiinng...” she asks in a sing-song voice.
Just a couple coffees, thanks.
>She looks almost disappointed.
>”Just coffee? Are you sure?”
>You sigh when you see the doting face she makes at you.
Alright, alright. I'll take a couple of slices of the coffee cake too.
>”Wonderful! They'll be right out.” The mare pokes her head into the kitchen for a moment before emerging with two large pieces of cake, which she drops into a brown paper bag.
>She sets the bag on the counter and turns to the large carafes behind her.
>As you contemplate Mrs. Cake's disturbingly effective sales techniques, you hear a light clopping behind you.
>”Well well, what have we here?” comes the familiarly playful voice of Rose.
>The red-maned mare walks up next to you and calls to Mrs. Cake.
>”When you get a chance, I'd like two red-eyes and three bearclaws.”
>”Of course,” Mrs. Cake replies when she places your coffees on the counter in their cardboard carrier.
>Rose cocks an eyebrow at you.
>”Needing a big wake up, are we?” she asks, motioning to the two coffee cups.
These? No, only one's for me.
>You take some cream and sugar and fix up your coffee.
4/
 
>Rose cracks a smile at you when you start on the other cup.
>”Lily, huh?” she says, glancing at the counter.
How did you guess?
>She points at the coffee cup.
>”I've known that mare long enough to know how she takes her coffee.”
>You raise your eyebrows and look at the florist skeptically.
You saw me at the stand with her, didn't you?
>Rose grins and shrugs.
>”I thought I had you there.”
You'll have to do better than that.
>The mare rolls her eyes jokingly.
>”So why are you fetching coffee for my beloved employee?” she asks.
I ran into her when I was walking down Mane Street. She seemed tired.
>The florist scrunches her face up at you.
>”And you offered to get her something? Aren't you just the sweetest thing?” she gushes.
>Mrs. Cake places Rose's bearclaws and coffees on the counter. Rose places everything into a basket and the two of you start out the door.
>As you let Rose through the doorway ahead of you, you think to ask.
Wait a minute, why do YOU have two coffees?
>Rose puts the basket down and winks.
>”Ladies' secret, Anonymous,” she offers in response. “I'll be seeing you. Don't be a stranger at the shop, either! I do so miss our talks.”
You miss playing games with Em's and my personal business.
>”So ungrateful...You're just like her,” she sighs with a smile, picking her cargo up again and turning to walk up the street.
5/
 
>Lily is resting her head on the counter of her stall when you return from Sugar Cube Corner. She perks up substantially when you set the coffees down in front of her.
>As soon as you pick your cup up, she snatches the other and takes a long sip.
>”Aahh...Celestia. Thanks. You've got no idea how bad I needed this,” she says.
No problem.
>Her eyes widen upon noticing the brown paper bag.
>”What's in there?” she asks.
Oh, yeah, Mrs. Cake twisted my arm. It's coffee cake.
>You pull out the cake slices. Lily takes one eagerly.
>”You're so nice, Anon.” The mare starts drooping her head back over the counter. “I don't know how ponies could ever think you're that different from us.”
What do you mean?
>”I'm on the street almost every day, Anon. Ponies talk. Good few of them don't seem to like the idea of you two-legged folk having anything to do with their town.”
>You take a sip of coffee without saying anything.
>”You know the minotaur couple down past the river?”
Yeah.
>”They came in just yesterday and told me that somep0ny had thrown lye in their garden and painted 'half-hoof' on their front door! Isn't that just awful? They had to replace their whole garden! And they had such beautiful flowers, too...”
Sounds like it. One of my cooks said it's because the town's been changing so fast that ponies are lashing out.
>”What do you think?”
I think it's along those lines. I saw similar things happen in Fillydelphia when lots of newcomers would come to a neighborhood.
6/
 
>Lily sips more of her coffee.
>”I don't like it. Those ponies need to get with the times. It's good that the town is changing. All these new faces and new places? It was never like this before.”
>She looks at her arrangements as ponies start to fill up the marketplace.
>”We're turning into more than just some small town now.”
That we are.
>You glance down the street while you finish your coffee.
I should probably get going. You'll talk to Daisy about the herbs for me?
>”Sure will. See you later! And thanks again!” Lily replies.
Don't mention it. I'll come back around noon.
>You take a walk up through the market, taking in the sounds as the street livens up.
>Vendors begin to yell over a rising din, vying for attention from passersby.
>You remember the chaos of the Terminal Market in Fillydelphia. How the stands and stalls and shops were like islands in a churning sea of bodies. The noise on a busy day was tremendous.
>The smells too.
>Good lord, the smells on a hot summer's day could topple an elephant; you'd seen it happen.
>A few ponies turn their heads when you snort and lurch forward, holding back a laugh.
>You catch some of them, a small group of stallions, start to whisper amongst themselves and cast the occasional glare in your direction.
>After passing the group by, you decide to go for a proper breakfast. You do your best to push their nasty looks out of your mind.
7/
 
>The diner you choose lies just off Mane Street, on a sleepy side road with a view of the large tree housing Ponyville Library.
>You sit just inside and look out the window at the leaves bowing in the gentle morning breeze.
>”Anonymous?” a pony asks. You look away from the window to find Twilight Sparkle across the table from you.
Twilight. Good morning. How are you?
>”I'm well. Lots to do at the library this week. Spike is bringing in a shipment of books from Canterlot that I ordered,” Twilight says. “I er...I heard what happened from Rarity. I'm really sorry.”
It's alright. No one got hurt and I have a place to stay. I couldn't really ask for anything else.
>You make a motion at your table.
Do you have a table? You can pull up a chair at mine, if you want.
>Twilight nods and pulls a chair out.
>”Thank you.” She seems to pause momentarily.
Something wrong?
>”No, just I realized it's been a while since we've seen each other. I mean, you're always so busy and I always have work to do, so it makes sense, but still. Last time we got to talk was, what...the Summer Sun Celebration?”
Sounds about right.
>”Hey, you've spent time in the Gryphon Kingdom, right?” the bookish mare asks suddenly.
Yeah, why do you ask?
>”What's it like there? I've read my books about it, but they only cover the history, government, economy, culture, climate, geography, foreign policy, demographics, and social hierarchy.”
>You raise an eyebrow.
8/
 
I uh... I'm not really much of an expert on anything except what they eat. I spent a month there learning some of the cooking techniques.
>”Well tell me about that, then.”
You're really interested?
>”Of course! The Gryphons are some of our closest neighbors, but there still isn't that much interaction outside of trade and diplomacy.”
Okay, where to start...
>You look at your menu casually.
What do you know about the Gryphon Kingdom's geography?
>”They live in a really mountainous region to the north, a little smaller than Equestria. Other than two coastal cities, it's almost completely landlocked.”
Right. Those two cities have their own food culture. That's where I stayed most of the time I was there.
>”So what do they do there? They eat that much fish?” The thought seems to make Twilight uneasy.
It's the main part of their diet there. They have one dish where they take a smoked eel, stuff it with barley, and roast it.
>”That's awful! The poor eels!”
I know, but I have to admit, it does taste great. A little salty, but they cure pretty much everything, so it makes sense.
>Twilight grimaces at the thought.
>”I'm almost afraid to ask what they eat in the rest of the Kingdom...” she says as the waiter comes over. The two of you place your orders and continue.
It's not that bad. A lot of the mainland cuisine is starches and root vegetables. Most of the cities are in mountain ranges and don't have a lot of grazing land, so the meat is restricted mostly to chickens and geese.
>”Really?” Twilight breathes. “I'd read that the Gryphons eat other creatures, but I always thought that was just stories or propaganda. They really kill animals for food?”
9/
 
All the time. They're Gryphons, after all.
>”Well, make sure you don't tell Fluttershy any of this. If she heard, she'd have a panic attack, I'm sure.” Twilight laughs a little at her friend's expense, as if to lighten her own disposition.
Why are you suddenly interested in the Gryphons?
>Twilight looks at the table bashfully. You decide to change the subject.
I heard you went up to Canterlot recently. How was it? I haven't been there in years. Has much changed?
>”Oh, it's the same as ever. Celestia had a new wing added to the Royal Archives last month. She gave me a tour of it.”
Yeah? And how is Her Highness? I haven't seen her since I catered the Gala a few years back.
>”She's well. The whole High Court has been busy planning this year's Gala. The Princess actually called in a chef from Fillydelphia this time. I think his name was Hors D'eouvre?”
>You blink a few times in silence.
Hors D'eouvre? Really? I know that stallion! Damn, he's doing the Gala this year? Good on him.
>”You know Hors D'eouvre? Celestia said he was one of the best chefs in Equestria”
>You grin at the mare.
Hey, so am I. I worked with him for a while in Canterlot before we both moved away.
>Twilight nods in agreement. “It sounds like you've managed to carve out a nice little niche for yourself, Anonymous. I'm glad. It can't have been easy.”
When is it ever?
10/
 
>Twilight leaves shortly after the two of you finish your food. You stay behind to relax in the diner for a while.
>As you sit, you think about how lucky you are that Ginger was kind enough to let you stay with her after the fire.
>For a few minutes you contemplate how you can show your appreciation.
>Narrowing it down, though, there's really only one way.
>You head out the door and make for the market again.
 
>The clock strikes eight thirty when you return to Mane Street. Ponies mill to and fro between stalls, hauling baskets, bags, and buckets of goods.
>You come to the first vegetable stand and peruse the produce.
>”What can I get for you?” the stallion asks.
>He watches you as you scan the cart.
I'll have a couple stalks of green onion, two white onions, three tomatoes, and a big squash.
>The stallion gives you a terse nod and sets about putting the vegetables into a sack.
>”That'll be ten bits.”
You got it.
>You drop the coins on the counter and walk off with your vegetables slung over your shoulder. On the way to the next stall you make a mental tally of what you still need.
>Rice, ginger root, and yoghurt; you pick up each as you go through the market, until you come to the spice stall.
>The old mare behind the counter eyes you as you step up to her.
>Your eyes flit around, falling on the cumin, cardamom, turmeric, cinnamon, and nutmeg.
>Once you scoop the appropriate amounts of each into a small bag, you go to pay and are met with a stern glare.
>There's an uncomfortable pause before you clear your throat.
>”That'll be twenty bits,” she says harshly.
Excuse me?
11/
 
>”Twenty bits,” she repeats.
Twenty bits. For this?
>You hold up the bag with a look of annoyance.
What's in this, gold dust? No way this is worth more than five bits.
>”Twenty bits,” she says again.
>You motion behind you to the rest of the market.
There's at least two other stands out there selling the same thing as you. Maybe I should take my money elsewhere? Five bits.
>”Maybe you should. If not, twenty.”
If that's how you do business, fine. Good luck.
>You toss the bag roughly on the counter and walk away. As you go towards one of the other spice stands, you hear the mare mutter behind your back.
>”Damn dirty ape, ruining our town.”
>The noise of the market lets you block out your indignation.
12/
 
>You walk around the long way to Ginger's house once you get your spices.
>The second stall you went to had them at a reasonable price, and you even got a bunch of lemongrass thrown in.
>The sun has risen high into the sky now and the lack of clouds lends a certain autumn crispness to the air.
>A ways down the street, you spot Pinkie Pie trotting out of the post office. When you get closer you can hear her humming merrily to herself with a white envelope sticking out of her saddle bag.
Morning, Pinkie.
>She spins around quickly, displaying the quiet smile on her face.
>”Morning!” she says.
How are you? Looks like you've had a good morning so far.
>”Oh, you know, it's been good,” she replies. “I was just sending some mail...for Mrs. Cake! How are you?”
>Pinkie fidgets and adjusts her bags.
I'm well. Just getting some groceries. I'm making Ginger some curry when she gets back from work. Show my thanks for letting me stay with her, you know?
>”That sounds nice. How's Mayor Mare taken the whole situation?”
As well as she can. I haven't heard anything from the Guard yet, so I'm assuming it was accidental, but everyone else seems to think otherwise.
>”I wouldn't worry too much about it. Worrying all the time isn't a good way to be happy, you know. You have to find something to smile about! Something to--” Pinkie stops when she sees you look down at the envelope, which has fallen from her bag.
>You reach down for it while Pinkie remains frozen. It's addressed to her and you swear you recognize the writing...
>A smug smile crawls across your face as you turn your gaze back to the pink mare.
13/
 
How's Fleur doing these days?
>Pinkie turns red and snatches the envelope from you. “I-- wh—well--” she stammers.
>When you raise your eyebrow knowingly, she sighs and puts it back in her bag.
Oh, don't make that face. I'm just teasing. Have you two been exchanging letters long?
>”Just a couple of weeks. She's really nice, and funny, and p--” she stops herself short.
Yeah, she is pretty...
>Pinkie's face reddens once again. You smile broadly.
...great to be around. Really into classical music, though. Not really my cup of tea, but it always made her happy to have something playing in the background.
>The party pony knots her brow.
Lilacs, too. Mare was practically obsessed.
>Pinkie looks down the street quickly.
>You feign confusion.
Something the matter?
>”N-no, nothing at all,” she replies.
Alright. Well, I'll be going. I'll see you later, Pinkie.
>”O-oh! See you...”
>After you've gone a ways, Pinkie tears open the letter. She reads quickly and intently before her eyes widen and she bolts off towards the market.
14/
 
>Later that day.
>You head out of Ginger's house at around seven in the evening.
>The streets are busy, but you're able to make your way across town without drawing any undue attention to yourself.
>After making sure no ponies are watching, you cut down a back alley and hop the fence into Em's back yard.
>You brush the dust off yourself and rap rapidly on her door.
>The sun starts to hang low in the sky while you wait outside.
>A minute later, the door opens and you find yourself yanked inside.
>Em pulls you into a kiss before rolling on top of you.
>Once she breaks for air, you push her up off of your chest.
That's certainly one way to say 'hello.'
>”I missed you all day yesterday, and then I heard about what happened at the restaurant this morning and thought you could use a little something,” she replies, pressing back into you.
>You fiddle idly with her ear.
I'm glad you've thought of dessert, but do you know what we should do for dinner?
>The mare lets out a heavy breath on your chest.
>”What's the matter, Chef? Running out of ideas?”
>You tickle her sides, causing her to jump and letting you flip her onto her back.
Not a chance. Spaghetti a la king?
>”Too creamy.”
Roast stuffed peppers?
>”Too green.”
>You go for her sides again.
Just playing the guessing game so I won't move off you?
>She looks around shiftily, letting out a quiet whine when you get up.
I take it you've forgiven me for a couple nights ago?
>”Almost.”
How about we make that spaghetti?
>Em licks her lips.
>”...Then we'll be good.”
Good. Get out the wine.
15/
 
>The two of you sit at the table eating spaghetti and sharing wine until nine.
>By then you've had enough to drink that you can bring up what you have t--
>”Hey, Anon?”
Huh?
>”I didn't know how to bring this up earlier, but were you planning on telling me about the photo you left here the night of the fire?”
>You take a quick wide-eyed panic-sip of wine.
>Em looks down at her plate.
>”It was in the trash.”
I didn't think it was that big a--
>”Don't lie to me, Anon. Somep0ny in town knows, and from this...this message on the back, they're not as accepting as our friends. Why didn't you tell me?”
I'm sorry. I didn't want to worry you any further. I was going to tell you, but when I found out about the fire it took a back seat.
>The mare rubs her forehead.
>”Right...It might have been a bit much...But that doesn't mean you had to keep it from me. This is big. The pony who put this on the door might go to the press, Anon! I'm starting my campaign in a month!”
>You get up and go to Em, putting an arm around her and resting your head on her shoulder.
>She tilts her head closer to yours anxiously.
>”What should we do about this? What can we do?”
>You take a deep breath.
Come clean?
>Em turns to you in shock.
>”What!?” she exclaims.
Come clean. About us. Beat them to the punch. They  could use this to blackmail you if we don't.
>”...Buck...You're right...I hadn't even thought about that...”
It's only a scandal if we let them make it one.
16/
 
>”You have a point,” she sighs, taking a long swig of wine. “But how are we supposed to do it now? It's not like I can just call for a press conference and announce that I'm dating Ponyville's top chef.”
Right, yeah, that would make for an awkward press conference. I don't really know what to say to this. Ponies just sort of heard through the grapevine when I was with Fleur.
>”Could that work here? Just stop hiding it? Tell our friends it isn't a secret anymore?”
I think that would be better than calling a press conference.
>Em laughs. “Rose will be thrilled. She can finally gossip about all this. I'm sure she'll waste no time making it into one of her funny anecdotes to tell customers.”
Fleur's never going to let me live this down, either.
>”So.”
>Em raises her glass.
>”Here's to owning up to bad life-choices?”
Cheers to that.
17/
 
>Eleven o'clock.
>You turn the stove on in Ginger's kitchen to heat and begin dicing onions.
>Every so often you stop to rub the sore spot on your neck.
>Since your evening with Em, you've felt lighter on your feet.
>The onions sizzle when you drop them into the pan. You turn the heat down low and start dicing the tomatoes.
>After ten minutes or so, the onions have begun to caramelize. You add the tomatoes, some grated ginger, and some of your curry powder.
>With the pan simmering on low, you start chopping the squash into large chunks.
>When the skin is removed, you blanch the squash and put the pieces in the oven to roast.
>The aroma of the pan has spread to the whole kitchen now, giving the house a warm smell. You add the rest of the curry powder and a generous amount of vegetable stock to the pan and let it incorporate evenly.
>With slow, methodical motions, you stir the curry to ensure an even flavor.
>Twenty minutes later, the oven timer goes off and you take out the now golden-orange pieces of squash.
>The yoghurt goes into the curry next. You stir rapidly now, breaking up any lumps that form.
>After reducing the heat again and adding the squash, you put another pot on the stove to cook the rice.
>You're about to check on the curry once more when you hear the door.
>”Anon? Are you still up?” Ginger calls out, “Why does my house smell like--”
Curry?
>The mare walks into her kitchen, looking baffled and exhausted.
Long service, huh? Pull up a chair. I made you dinner.
>”I see that. But why? Today was supposed to be your day off, wasn't it?”
18/
 
Do you know me? I don't really do days off.
>You pour the curry sauce over a plate of rice in front of Ginger as she sits down.
>”Celestia, that smells good...What did you put in this?”
A little of this, a little of that.  Remind me and I'll give you the recipe sometime.
>Ginger takes a bite and leans back in her chair.
>”Thank you so much...I've been dying of hunger since nine...Not a minute of downtime tonight,” she sighs.
I thought I'd show my appreciation for you letting me stay here.
>”Well, consider it shown. How did you make this so warm tasting?”
Cinnamon, a tiny bit of chili powder, and nutmeg. I also roasted the squash.
>”Joy is one lucky mare to have you, Anonymous. I wish I could come home to this kind of thing every night...”
>You debate briefly with yourself whether or not to just tell Ginger now, but decide to hold off.
You will someday, I'm sure.
>Ginger finishes her plate and looks at the stove with great satisfaction.
Don't worry about the dishes. You worked hard today, and this is my thanks to you anyway. I'll take care of them.
>”You sure?”
I'm sure.
>”Alright. I'll head to bed, then. Thank you again, Anon. It means a lot.”
Goodnight, Ginger. I'll see you tomorrow.
>Ginger sleepily walks upstairs, leaving you alone again with a light chest and a clear head.
End