>The dining room at Prongs is filled with your colleagues as they mill about talking to one another.
>Your boss rented out the entire restaurant for the night after finding out a few days prior that his establishment had been awarded two Marechelin Stars.
>Around eight, when the last of the staff have arrived, Whooves starts to yell above the droning.
>”Hey! Hey! Everyp0ny! Shaddup a second!”
>The gathered ponies go quiet and turn to look at the slightly tipsy Sous.
>”Good to see ya,” he says to a mare sitting off to the side before looking back up at the group. “When I started working with food five years ago I never once pictured myself working at a place like this. I started out frying hay bacon and eggs at a crappy little diner right up Mane Street. Now look at me--”
>A bus pony interrupts him. “Getting drunk and talking about yourself?”
>Whooves scowls at him as the crowd starts laughing.
>”I was getting to the good part. Anyway, it's you guys who got us here. From the cooks, to the managers, to the waiters...” he glares at the bus pony. “To the bussers. We're in the big leagues now.”
>You smirk as Whooves shoots you a grin. “And who can forget our Glorious Leader? Anon! Chef! Get over here! Say something!”
>Glasses start being raised. Voices follow.
>”Speech! Speech! Speech!” the group chants.
>You sigh and gaze at Em, who sits next to you. She's resting her head on her hoof, looking at her flatware unenthusiastically.
Are you doing alright, sweetie? You look down.
>She glances up from the table.
>”I'm fine. Go, go. You've got a speech to make,” she says.
>You knot your brow and get up.
1/
 
I just have to do this one thing and then we can go, okay?
>She nods slowly. You walk over to Whooves with your glass.
Alright, alright! Listen up! I'm only going to say this once!
>The ponies in the restaurant stand rapt.
A great restaurant is built on a solid foundation. It takes more than a Chef to make a restaurant. It takes a well-trained staff. It takes managers who know what's going on. It takes cooks who love their work. It takes waiters and waitresses who aren't only in it for the tips.
What I mean to say is that these Stars aren't just mine. They aren't just for the boss. They aren't just marks in a book for snooty ponies to flip through. They're for all of you. You earned them. I -no- we wouldn't be here if not for each and every one of you doing your best to make this place what it is today. This is a night for all of us.
>You raise your glass. The ponies in the crowd do the same.
So here's to you guys. You made our place Ponyville's very first Marechelin Star-rated restaurant!
>The collected ponies stamp their hooves on the floor in applause. You head back to your table with Em. Whooves and Ginger join you.
>”That was some speech, Chef,” Ginger declares.
>”Yeah, did you come up with that off the cuff?” Whooves asks.
Pretty much, yeah. Never was really good at public speaking, so I just winged it.
>”Well, you did good. It was really inspiring,” Ginger says,  watching the bubbles in her champagne.
>”Of course, it means more for you to have those Stars, Chef,” Whooves says, half joking. “Nop0ny cares about us little guys, you know.”
Don't be such a pessimist, Whooves.
2/
 
>Em remains curiously silent. She sighs quietly and rises from her seat.
>”I'm going to go get some air,” she says, sounding weary.
>As she walks slowly out into the night air, you feel the wind leave your sails.
>”She's not taking it well, is she?” Whooves asks you.
Taking what well?
>”Everything. I mean, come on. It's only been a week. The timing couldn't have been worse for her. She loses her big election and then the same night you get your dream-come-true?”
>”I know I'd be at least a little--” Ginger starts to chime in. You narrow your eyes and she stops herself.
What? Bitter?
>”I was going to say jealous...” the mare corrects.
>You rub your temples to relieve a sudden headache.
I should go get her. You hold the fort, okay?
>Ginger looks concerned. Whooves waves you off.
>”You got it, Chef. Make sure she doesn't get too down.”
>With a nod, you head out the door.
>Ponyville has gotten colder. With winter right around the corner, it's only natural, but the chill seems to extend to the general populace lately.
>Em's concession speech the day after the election was almost painful for you to watch.
>Filthy kept a smug, self-congratulatory grin on his face that made you want to hit him as hard as you could.
>You've felt this vibe in the past. A kind of vague, silent aloofness from the general population.
>The bespectacled mare is sitting on a bench next to the road, lightly kicking at the ground.
Everything alright, honey?
>A chilled breeze blows across the road. You take your jacket off and drape it over the mare's shoulders.
>”It's cold. Just like that night in Fillydelphia. On the balcony?” she says quietly.
3/
 
>Em pulls the jacket tightly around herself.
>”You know it took everything I had not to squeal like a school filly when you first said you loved me?” she lets out a short laugh. “I can't believe I actually said 'I know' like some suave mare.”
It sort of threw me, I'll be honest.
>Your companion shivers a little. You sit down next to her and she leans on you.
Remember the first time you said it back?
>She looks scandalized, but you see a smile. “Of course I do!”
>You grin back and pull her into your lap.
I was leaving that morning after breakfast and you looked like you were dying to say something so I turned around...
>”...and it just slipped out of my mouth.”
You turned beet red, as I recall.
>”I was embarrassed! I'd had a whole speech prepared and then I just blurted it out!”
I thought it was sweet.
>Em's smile fades and she looks up at the stars overhead.
>”What are we going to do, Anon?” There's a note of defeat carried in her voice. You stroke her mane and nuzzle her shoulder with your nose.
>She shudders against you slightly.
Do you want to go?
>You feel her chest start to heave and a trickle down her cheek.
>”I'm sorry...Juh-just--”
>Her ear flicks and flutters as you move in close to it.
Come on. I'll take you home.
>The wind starts to pick up. You carry Em down the street.
>She curls up in your arms and presses her face into you.
>When you get to the house, you carry her up to the bedroom and crawl into bed with her.
>”I ruined your night...”she mumbles.
>You pull her into a tight hug.
Shh...
4/
 
>Em falls asleep in your arms after a few minutes, leaving you to think alone.
>She grumbles in her sleep when you get up. Her forelegs, which she had wrapped tightly around your arm, flop onto the bed after you wriggle out of her sleepy grasp.
>You look at the clock.
>10:15
>Determined to get your head on straight, you decide to head out.
>The moon hangs above you, casting silvery light over the town. As you wander down Mane Street, you hear Rarity call to you from up ahead.
>”Anon? Is that you?” You quicken your pace to meet her.
Evening, Rarity.
>”Likewise,” Rarity replies. She looks up at the stars briefly. “How have you been?”
Been alright.
>You shift your weight uneasily.
Got a couple Marechelin Stars to my name now. I'm officially fancy.
>”So I heard. Sounds like a dream come true.”
That's what everyone keeps telling me.
>”You don't agree? I thought it was your dream?”
It's not that. This is a big deal, I know, but...
>Rarity knots her brow.
...it just feels hollow.
>”Is it because of her?”
It's a lot of things.
>You look over towards Em's house.
>”I couldn't believe it when I heard the results,” Rarity says, still sounding somewhat distant.
It sort of cast a shadow over the whole day. I'm trying to get her through it, but there's only so much I can do. That job was her life.
>”You two have that in common.”
Sure do.
>The two of you look up and watch the stars for a minute.
5/
 
>”So what do you think you'll do now?” Rarity asks, breaking the silence. “I watched Filthy's campaign as closely as anyp0ny. Don't pretend like nothing is going to change.”
She dodges the subject whenever I try to bring it up. I think she just needs time.
>Rarity appears to be mulling something over.
>”I-- I know it isn't my place, but...”
What?
>”...What about what you want?”
>You find yourself taken aback.
Not your-- of course it's your place! You're my friend.
>You swallow.
...Even if I haven't acted like it recently. I should have apologized for that a long time ago, you know. For letting what happened drive us apart. I'm sorry.
>At first, Rarity puts on a self-righteous face, but it quickly falls.
>”No, it's my fault as well. I just got so caught up looking at your life, your cooking, just...everything...”
>She sniffles a little bit before continuing.
>”I shouldn't have tried to press all that on you.”
Don't worry about it. You're young. It's a part of growing up. Besides, I bet your first kiss was way worse.
>Even in the pale moonlight you can see that Rarity is now red.
...Right?
>Silence. Her eyes are cast down and dart around rapidly.
You're joking. Never before? Not once?
>”I'm sorry! I—”
Don't apologize to me! I rejected you like that and it was your first kiss!? I should be apologizing to you! I'm a real asshole for that!
>Before you can finish ranting, Rarity is laughing. It's infectious.
>When you both collect yourselves, she looks at you again, more seriously.
>”Well, I am flattered that you're so passionate about it, darling, but you never did answer my question.”
6/
 
>There's another uncomfortable silence. You kick the dirt idly.
>Rarity apparently sees something in your pensive expression and raises her hoof.
>”You needn't say it if you don't want to.” She looks off towards Canterlot. The city is lit up in the night, just visible in the distance. “Just don't go and forget about me, alright?”
>You don't answer the mare for a good minute and a half. She speaks up again.
>”Has it really gotten so bad?”
Not overtly. Not at work, either, most of the time... But when we're out? She'll be her usual self one minute, then some pony out there will shoot us a look or make some comment and she'll just close up. We can't even mention Filthy around her.
>A breeze picks up, making you both shiver.
I don't know, maybe I'm over-thinking it, but it's like she doesn't have anything left here except for Rose.
>”And you.”
And me, yes. It's just tiring, all this.
>You stop yourself.
Listen to me. I'm just unloading all this onto you. You shouldn't have to hear all this garbage.
>”Oh, it's quite alright, darling. You should have heard all the things I made poor Sweetie Belle sit through -oh, and Pinkie!” Rarity puts a hoof to her forehead.
How are things, by the way? With Pinkie?
>Rarity looks amused with you.
>”I never took you for the gossip type,” she teases.
Rose must have rubbed off on me.
>”So I've noticed. That was clever, what you did after our little spat a few months ago, directing her over to me. I never got to tell you. You know she took the opportunity to pour her heart out, don't you? Poor dear...I felt so bad telling her 'no,' I understood how you must have felt.”
7/
 
>Rarity lets play a pained smile.
>”But it seems she's very happy now, and we're back to the way things were before, she and I. It's certainly helped that she came to meet Fleur.”
>You smirk at the knowing look she gives you.
Hey, I had nothing to do with that...directly...
>She rolls her eyes, her smile becoming more enthusiastic.
>”Well, all the same, it's worked out for the best all around.”
I'm glad to hear that. Glad you're doing okay, too. It's been weird not having you at the restaurant now and again.
>”It's perfectly alright. These things happen. Best to handle them maturely and move on, don't you agree?”
Completely. And thanks for listening. I missed this.
>”Likewise.”
>You turn and look back down the road.
I should head home. If Em wakes up and I've mysteriously vanished...
>”Oh, she's got you wrapped around her little hoof, doesn't she?”
You could say that. Goodnight, Rarity.
>”And to you, darling. We must get lunch sometime, like old times.”
Agreed. Come find me tomorrow and we'll make plans.
>You take your leave of the mare and walk up the road.
>When you glance back, Rarity has gone. You return home feeling lighter and more at ease.
>Em is still tucked in when you come to the bed. She's wrapped the sheets tightly around herself in her sleep. You're afraid you'll wake her when you pry a corner out for yourself.
>She murmurs something incomprehensible as you drape your arm over her and drift off.
8/
 
>The next morning you awake to the smell of smoke.
>You leap out of bed and look frantically around the room. Em is gone. The sheets are a mess.
>Something clatters loudly to the floor downstairs. You race towards the sound.
>In the kitchen, standing on a stool and fanning a smoking pan at the the open window, is Em.
>You cough, drawing her attention. She looks at you sheepishly, still waving the pan.
>”I wanted to make you breakfast...It didn't go too well...” The mare quickly turns back to the window in embarrassment.
>With a brisk stride you walk up behind and bury your face in the nape of her neck.
>She leans her head back into yours and lays the pan down.
>”I'm sorry about last night,” she says softly.
>You nip lightly at her neck. She shudders.
Don't apologize.
>Em's huff in response is cut off by a high squeal when you trace a finger over her flanks.
>”Is this you forgiving me?” she breathes.
No...
>You twirl her around and slowly remove her glasses. There's a faint hint of red in her cheeks and a faint hint of pink at the roots of her mane.
>The morning light sparkles in her eyes and a devious playful look comes into them.
...This is just for fun.
>She's about to say something when you lock your lips around hers.
9/
 
>Eventually, Em rolls herself off of your chest. She lets out a long, satisfied sigh as she flops onto her side and stares at you.
>”What brought that on?” she asks, face still flushed.
Trying to get you to stop worrying about us so much.
>”That certainly was a creative way to do it.”
I'm glad you enjoyed yourself.
>Em giggles and curls up.
>After a spell spent basking, she looks up at the ceiling.
>”Should we maybe get up off the kitchen floor?” she asks.
Probably. It's going to be murder on my back if we stay too long.
>You lift yourself off the floor and grab your pants off the table.
>A notebook catches your eye.
What's this?
>Em pokes her head up to see.
>”Oh, that old thing? It's one of my noteboo-- Hey! Don't just flip through it!”
>She pouts. You laugh and continue thumbing through the notebook.
Were you reading your old articles?
>”A few, yes.” She hesitates.
What is it?
>”I...I was thinking of getting back into it, actually...”
Your writing?
>”Yeah, I was reading my old work and figured I could try again.”
>She snatches the notebook as soon as you put it down on the table again.
>Once you get your pants on, you sit down .
So, since breakfast didn't quite go as you planned, why don't we go out? I'm on dinner service all week; owner wants to capitalize on the good press. Means I've got nothing but free mornings for a while.
>Em gazes mournfully at the blackened frying pan.
>”I suppose that's in order. Get dressed, then we'll go to the cafe.”
10/
 
>An hour later.
>Your bespectacled companion munches quietly on a piece of toast as you sip coffee and look out the window at the chilly streets.
So...
>You swirl the drink around your mug.
...Writing, huh?
>Em swallows a bite of toast and wipes some jam from her mouth.
>”That's right.”
I thought you said you didn't want to do that anymore? Isn't it why you came to Ponyville in the first place?
>She adopts a thoughtful expression and sets the toast down onto her plate.
>”I did, but, well-- I don't know, I thought maybe something familiar would be a good change.”
>The mare looks incredibly unsure of herself.
Don't get me wrong, love, I think it's great. I'm just surprised. It didn't seem like you've had any motivation for anything this past week. I was getting worried about you, you know.
>The mare cracks a soft smile.
>”I know I've been down recently. Think how you'd feel if you woke up one day and everyone decided they didn't want you to be a chef anymore. I was Mayor for years here, and then it's gone, just like that.”
I understand. I'm just glad you're getting back to your old self. You've handled it better than I would in your position.
>”So you think I should pursue this?”
I think you should do whatever makes you happy, honey. If you want to get back into writing, then do it. I'll be right behind you.
>”Thank you. That really means a lot...”
>Em suddenly looks downcast.
>”There's just one other thing. Doing this...well...
What is it?
>”I don't know how to put this. My old publisher always preferred local talent. I know that's still the industry standard, as well, and--”
Oh.
11/
 
>”And with how things are in town now, you can't fault me for having the thought cross my mind, can you?” Em's tone becomes increasingly pleading.
>”I feel like I'm being judged everywhere I go, Anon.” She suddenly drops her gaze to the table. “But I can't ask you to uproot yourself, and I can't just abandon Rose, and I've just made friends with Ginger, too, and--”
>You cut her off.
Give it some time and some thought. I still have my responsibilities to think about here in town.
>She looks crestfallen.
I'm not vetoing you, just so we're clear. I just need us both to be sure of what we want next, alright? This is a good start. I've been hoping to have this conversation.
>Em musters a nod. You flag a waiter down so you can pay.
Don't get down on yourself for that, please. I can't stand seeing you like this.
>You look over the bill and drop a few bits on the table.
Come on, we'll go pick up some groceries for this week.
>She stays in her seat when you get up.
>”I think I'm going to visit with Rose for a little while.”
Will I see you before I go to work?
>”I'll try to get home to see you off.”
Alright, but if I don't see you, there's some leftovers in the fridge. Love you.
>”I love you too. .
>You head out towards Mane Street, leaving Em in the cafe.
12/
 
>The Mane Street market is as alive as ever when you arrive.
>Casts and stalls line the sides of the road, just as you've come to know the place. The din that rises from it still gives you that familiar warm feeling, but it is tempered by the inclusion of the odd stare or passing remark at your expense.
>You pass the spice stall and the old mare behind it just glares silently at you.
>Lily stands with her flowers a few yards away from you. She smiles widely when you approach.
Morning, Lily. How's business?
>The mare fiddles with a few sprigs of lavender and waves to a passerby.
>”It's going well. The weather's been getting a lot colder, though. I'm glad the market season is about over.”
Getting tired of being out in the cold?
>”You're lucky. I hear the kitchens are nice and heated at your place.”
>You chortle.
They are, but not for us. I'm sweating every time I leave there. I'm pretty sure my skin froze a few nights ago.
>”Oh, we live storied lives, don't we?” she muses. “So what brings you around here? Business? Pleasure? Daisy says hi, by the way. I've never seen her so enthusiastic about her herb garden.”
Good to hear. Those herbs have been top notch. I'm just out for groceries. I need breakfast ingredients for me and Em for the week.
>”How are things with her? Feels like so long since I've talked to you. Is she handling the election well? For what it's worth, I voted for her.”
She's...handling it. You probably don't want to hear about my relationship crap, though.
13/
 
>”That's probably true. Then again, I'll no doubt hear it from Rosie later today. It's about time they had a visit, isn't it?”
She that predictable?
>”Once you get to know her, and I've had plenty of time. Now, are you going to buy some flowers or do you hate small business?”
>You smirk at Lily's coy grin.
Alright, give me a dozen daylilies.
>”Good choice, Anon!” she cries. Lily bounds behind the stall and pops back up a moment later bearing a bunch of flowers wrapped in paper. “She'll love these. Just make sure they get sun and they'll last a good long while.”
>You take the flowers and examine the bright petals.
Thanks. How much do I owe you?
>”Ten bits.”
>The coins clatter against the counter, eliciting another wide grin from Lily.
I should go and get the groceries before the market gets picked clean.
>”Alright. Thanks for stopping by, Chef.”
>You tuck the flowers under your arm and walk down the road.
>After a few stops at various produce stalls, you've amassed a respectable pile of food to bring home. You turn around and start towards Em's house.
>Now laden with ingredients, you pass by the spice stall once more.
>The old mare at the counter gives you the stink eye and mutters something just loud enough for you to hear it.
>”Filthy ape and his sick mare...Be glad to have them gone.”
14/
 
>The old crone's words stick with you until you get home and unload everything.
>As you start putting the ingredients in their places, you contemplate Em's decision at breakfast.
>Does she really feel she needs a change of scenery?
>You finish unpacking the groceries and take a seat in the living room with a newspaper.
>After a few minutes idly flipping through the pages, you get up sharply and make for the door.
15/
 
>Two months later.
>Ponyville is buried under a thick blanket of snow.
...And don't let the managers near the walk-in. They love to rearrange things back there to 'optimize' it.
>Em stands in the doorway to the alley, tapping her hoof on the floor.
>You gesture for the stallion by your side to look at the kitchen counter.
>He sighs and scratches his head under his hat.
>”Anon, I appreciate all you're doing, but I've got it. I promise you, I've got it,” he says. You drop your hand to your side and look over at Ginger. The mare giggles and waves you off.
>”We'll see you tonight, Anon!” she yells. “Get out of here already!”
>Em walks to you and tugs on your sleeve.
>As she leads you out of the kitchen, you pull against her slightly, as if trying subconsciously to stay where you belong.
>When she finally gets you out into the alley, she starts to laugh.
>”That was almost painful,” she teases. “I knew you were attached, but come on, honey... It was like watching a doting mother.”
Well excuse me.
>You push into her jokingly.
I wanted to make sure Basil had everything covered.
>”I'm sure Mr. Pesto will do just fine in your place.”
Did Whooves seem mad still?
>”For the last time, no.”
Are you sure?
>”Completely. Celestia, you got your last paycheck weeks ago and you still managed to find a reason to go in practically every day!”
You should write about it. I'm sure it'd make a good story.
>Em shoots you a playful glare.
>”I just might, buster, if you keep that up.”
>She leads you down Mane Street and back to the house.
>”Did Rose say anything about the party, by the way?”
16/
 
I figured she'd tell you. I haven't talked to her in days. Last I heard she and Pinkie were on top of it and wouldn't give me any details.
>Em purses her lips and knots her brow.
>”I don't know why the idea of those two mares working together makes me nervous.
>You raise an eyebrow.
Might be on account of the fact that those two mares have a history of complicating our affairs?
>”Might be. At any rate, we've got a few hours until our reckoning. What should we do?”
>With a crack of your knuckles, you take a seat in the living room.
>Almost everything in the house has been packed up. Neat brown cardboard boxes litter the room.
>After a few minutes of contemplation, you get up and walk over to Em, who has sat down on the couch.
You know, the snow is still fresh. Why don't we go down to the park?
>”I think it's a little cold for a picnic, don't you?” Em replies.
It is, but I wasn't suggesting a picnic. We could just take a walk?
>It strikes you that you've never really done anything with Em that didn't involve food in some way. You giggle to yourself.
>Em looks to have had the same realization. She bites her tongue.
>”I'll get my scarf.”
>She bounds happily over to the door. Her mane bounces with her, a few inches of pink flash beneath the gray with each stride.
Hey, did the publisher get back to you yet about that article?
>Em returns to you, now bundled up in a wide blue scarf.
>”Not yet. They said last time that it would take a few weeks.”
Are you excited?
>”I try not to get my hopes up too much.”
17/
 
>The park is a stark, pure white when you arrive. The snow sparkles under the afternoon sun.
>Only the paths have been cleared and no hoofprints can be seen off of them. There is only the clean field of snow giving off the impression of a fresh canvas.
>Before Em has a chance to say anything, you break a devilish grin, pick her up, and jump into the pristine whiteness with her clasped in your arms.
>Once the two of you stop tumbling, she pokes her head up and glares at you.
>”What was that for!?”
>You smirk and shrug. She meets your response with a large snowball.
>As you fall back into the powder, Em leaps on top of you and stares down, pinning your arms to the ground.
>”Well aren't you a cheeky little man?” the mare prods. ”Come on, let's walk before our clothes get soaked.”
Good call.
>The two of you get to a path and clamor out of the snow onto the cobblestone walk.
>Em leans into you as you make your way aimlessly through the park.
>”I am excited about the story, you know...” she says, after a time.
I'm glad. I can't wait to read it.
>”And you're sure you're okay with all this?”
It's a little late to back out now. If I did that, Pinkie might kill me for making her party moot.
>The mare's eyes falter slightly. You soften your cold-braced expression.
I'm okay with it. I'm looking forward to it, even. It's a new start, after all.
>Em lets a smile come over her. “I can't believe it's really happening.”
18/
 
I can't believe I managed to sell that house of mine.
>”Well, the contractors did a very good job fixing the damage. You'd hardly know the place burned down if it hadn't been such big news,” Em remarks, throwing your attempt at humor back at you.
>The skies are clear overhead, lending a certain crispness to the cold winter air.
>”What did the realtor say, by the way? I noticed a letter from him on the counter.”
He says the house should be ready to move into at the end of the week. That's also when the movers will get down there.
>”Good,” she muses. “And honey?”
Yeah?
>”Thank you for being so supportive.”
And to you, love.
>You wander along the cobble paths through the park with Em beside you, until the sun begins to set.
>When the two of you return, you can make out the sound of music coming from Sugar Cube Corner.
>Your friends are assembled there to see you off.
>Em looks up at you when you stop in front of the door. Her breath is visible in the cold.
>”Well, here we go.”
Here we go.
End.