Zipper Trouble [Anon&Spitfire]

“So, tell me again why we’re here and why I should care?”
>Rainbow Dash huffs and rolls her eyes.
>“Like I’ve been saying, we’re here to see the Wonderbolts perform, the best fliers in all of Equestria, remember?”
>You suppress a grunt of dissatisfaction.
“If I wanted to watch a bunch of Pegasi bump into each other, I’d watch the weather team back in Ponyville. I just don’t see why we have to come all the way out to Canterlot.”
>“Because they’re awesome!”
>Well, that’s the crux of things, isn’t it?
>No point in arguing with Dash once she gets it into her head that something is cool.
>Hanging your head you scuffle your feet on the ground.
>It’s going to be a long day of sitting in the stands with your head craned back, watching ponies fly through the air.
>The only way this event could be enjoyable was if they were grilling or had copious amounts of alcohol.
>Wait a second…
>You grin and place a hand on Rainbow’s withers.
>She jumps and shoots an unsteady look back at you.
>“W-what do you think you’re doing, Anon?”
“Hey, gimme my ticket.”
>When Dash gives you a confused look, you jerk your finger back over your shoulder.
“I’m gonna go get refreshments. Can’t chill in the stands with your best bro on an empty stomach, right?”
>If it were possible, the blue pegasus’ face turns even more red and she gives a brief nod.
>“R-R-Right, just don’t be too long.”
>Pulling a slip of paper from her saddlebag, she holds it out to you.
>Without so much as a thank you, you snatch the ticket and hurry down the hall.
“I’ll be back in a jiffy!”
>Heh, heh, stupid pony.
>By the time you get to your seat, you plan on being stinking drunk.
>With any luck you’ll pass out in no time.
>Unfortunately, ponies are particularly poor about labeling their hallways, and you soon find yourself incredibly lost.

>And still sober.
>You huff in frustration as you hear a roar go up from the crowd outside.
>Seems the hype show is about to wrap up.
>While you really don’t want to sit through this event sober, the idea of ditching Dash isn’t exactly palatable either.
>She is, after all, your bro.
>Turning on your heel to retrace your steps, you pause when a loud grunt of frustration catches your ears.
>It’s quickly followed by a horrendous crashing sound and a hiss of pain.
>“Stupid!”
>Out of habit, you cup your hand over your mouth and shout.
“Careful Derpy!”
>Everything goes quiet after that.
>Then, from one of the rooms along the side, you see a mare with a yellow coat and an orange and yellow mane stick her head out into the hall.
>Her head flits about twice until she spots you.
>You can feel her looking you up and down, her gaze finally settling on your hands.
>Relief floods across her face as she motions to you.
>“Hey, Fingers, get over here.”
>…Fingers?
“I’ve got a name you know.”
>The mare scowls and rolls her eyes.
>“Yeah, well why don’t you come over here and tell me what it is.”
>Snippy little thing.
>Still, you trod over to her and raise an eyebrow.
“My name’s Anonymous.”
>Raising her eyebrow, she smirks at you.
>“Wow, so did your mother hate you or are you just the youngest of the family?”
>Cunt.
>You turn to walk away when you hear her stumble out into the hall after you.
>“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean it. I’m just a little, tense right now. Big show and all.”
>Big show?
>Glancing back at her, you notice that she’s half dressed in a flight uniform, blue with yellow highlights, but seems to be having a bit of trouble getting it the rest of the way on.
>You smirk.
“I can understand the stress, I’d be upset too if I’d put on weight and couldn’t fit into my performance uniform.”
>In an instant, the gold mare’s face twists again into a deep scowl.

>“It, it’s not like that!”
>She shifts her weight a few times and glares at the ground.
>“It’s just… I’m stuck.”
>You raise an eyebrow and she shifts her head to the side so you can see.
>Sure enough, the zipper is caught on a rather robust tuft of hair.
>“I admit I’ve been a little lax on my maintenance lately, but I can’t keep zipping it up at this point, it’ll tear the hairs out and bleed through the uniform. Same if I go down…”
>Her expression softens as she begins to alternate her weight from one side to the other.
>“So, Fing- Anonymous, I’d really appreciate it if you could work the hairs out of the teeth…”
>Seriously?
“Can’t you just, I don’t know, cut it off?”
>She recoils and scrunches her face.
>It’s almost cute.
>“Are you kidding? This tuft is practically my signature! If I didn’t have it then, then…”
>You hold up your hand again and make a show of rubbing your temple.
>Finally, you nod.
“All right sure, but you have to do something for me.”
>The mare’s face hardens.
>“If it’s a sexual request then no w-”
>You hold up your hands and shake your head.
“What? No! I don’t even know you. I just want you to sign something for a friend of mine.”
>After a moment, the mare nods and motions you towards the room she came out of earlier.
>“Fine, come on, you fix me up and I’ll set you up.”
>The dressing room is rather robust, lockers set up and labeled for every female member of the team.
>At least, you hope Fleetfoot is a girl.
>Sitting herself down on the bench, the mare turns to face you.
>“All right, let’s get started.”
“Don’t rush me.”
>You snap back.
>The two of you exchange glares for several seconds before you reach down and begin to untangle the tufts of hair from the teeth and zipper.
>The performance mare grits her teeth a few times as you tug on a few particularly stubborn hairs, but before long you’ve cleaned out the teeth and most of the zipper as well.

>Unfortunately, the rest seem content to stay where they are, and are still preventing you from zipping her up the rest of the way.
“This is enough, right?”
>The mare’s eyes dance up to yours.
“You’re not going to kill me if I clip the rest of these?”
>Glancing down, she grits her teeth and slowly nods her head.
>“That, is acceptable. Just save as much as you can.”
>You give her a grunt and reach for the scissors on the vanity.
>As you make a few careful snips, the mare sighs again.
>“So, what are you doing down here anyway? Trying to get a preemptive peek at the stars of the show?”
“Not really, I was looking for beer and I got lost.”
>“Sounds like you’re a stallion after my own heart.”
>The mare laughs, causing you to nearly snip your finger off in the process.
>While you shoot her a glare, she responds with a sheepish grin.
>“Sorry. But anyway, I don’t buy that for a minute. You were just trying to walk in on some mare changing, weren’t you?”
“Nope.”
>Snip, snip, snip.
“I’ve got my hands full in adjusting to Equestria, I don’t need to deal with being accused of peeping on top of that.”
>She lapses into silence for several seconds, but when she speaks again, her voice is softer.
>“Not even if it was me?”
>Sighing, you pull your eyes away from the job at had, again, and give her a tired stare.
“Like I said, I don’t even know you. You asked me for help, and I’m giving it.”
>Another quick snip and you’re done.
>You give the zipper a tug and watch as it descends with ease.
>Picking out the rest of the stray hairs still caught in the teeth, you grin.
>The mare squeaks as you slide your hand inside her uniform and press against the tuft of hair.
>With a little work, you zip the uniform up to your wrist before slipping your hand out and zipping her up the rest of the way.
“All set.”
>Turning your attention back to the mare, you notice the strange look that she’s giving you.

“…Sup?”
>“You, do know who I am, right?”
>Shit.
>Shit, shit, shit!
“Uh… ffffffFleetfoot?”
>She snorts and shakes her head, smiling all the while.
>“Such a kidder.”
>Grabbing a photo off the vanity, she pops a pen into her mouth and signs it with a few jerks of her head.
>Grinning around the pen, she nods to the prize.
>“Goh ahehd.”
>As you reach for the picture though, she quickly marks up your hand and then spits out the pen.
>“And there’s my address… you know, so you can get in touch with me later…”
“Uh, right.”
>You shake your hand a few times and grab the photo.
“See ya.”
>You can feel her eyes on you the entire way out.
>A shudder rolls down your spine as you slip into the hall.
“Now I really need a beer. Or three."
>Pegasus Ponies are fucking weird.