The Professional, Chapter 3 - For a Friend

>”Aaaah….Oh…Anon….Yes…Just like…..NNAAAAAAAGH~!”
>Yet another satisfied customer.
>You and the mare both fall back onto the bedsheets, exhausted as Golden Cup nuzzles tiredly into your side.
>As voracious as her appetites are, and as much as she pays you to fulfill them, you can throw in a little post-coital cuddling on the house as a bonus.
“Are you satisfied, Miss Chalice?”
>Golden Chalice, one of your more frequent clients, responds with an affirmative moan as her fuzzy tan cheek brushes up against your shoulder.
>You seem to spend so much time in this bed, you can strip your prophylactic off, tie it off and toss it in the wastebasket without even seeing it.
>Swish, two points.
>”Mmmmmm~…” she sighs. “You remain one of my better investments, Anon.”
>Chalice is what you call a bedwarmer. Husband often away on business, and needs someone to warm her bed.
>And for the right price, that someone can be you.
>Every now and then you wonder what the mates of mares like Chalice would think of the services you provide.
>That, however, is between them, and is not your concern.
>Simply a professional offering a service, and nothing more.
>After a little time passes, you check your watch and sit up, much to Chalice’s protest.
>”Just a little longer, Anon?”
>You turn and smile, with a warmth honed by experience and practice.
“I’m afraid not, I should leave before your daughter wakes up. “
>Chalice sighs in agreement as you stand and dress, pocketing your substantial commission.
>This client always did pay a nice bonus on top of your usual rate.
“Shall I go ahead and schedule you in for the same time next week?”
>”Hmm…Do you have anything earlier?”
“I’m afraid not. My days off are coming up, and I have other clients scheduled after that.”
>”Oh bother…it shall have to do I suppose.”
>A quick kiss to the back of her hoof, and you are out the bedroom door, sneaking through the halls.
>If the manor was any indicator, the substantial amount Golden Chalice pays you must be a drop in the bucket for her.
>You creep towards the front door, shoes in your hands to reduce the noise.
>Just need to get out before…
>”What are –you- doing here?”
>…Chalice’s daughter finds you.
>Fuck.
“…..Ssssshhhh…..just had a little business meeting with your mom, and I’m leaving now sweetie, okay?”
>Silver Spoon glares up at you over the rim of her glasses, her bed-mussed silver mane sticking out from under her bed cap.
>”Business meeting?”
“Business meeting.”
>Technically not a lie.
>After all, technically correct is the best kind of correct.
“It’s well before dawn, Spoon…why don’t you run along to bed?”
>”I wonder if my dad knows about mom’s ‘business meetings.’”
>…So young, and already an infuriatingly crafty mare.
>With a sigh, you fish in your pocket, depositing a few bits into Spoon’s hooves.
>You swear this filly has caught on to her mother’s schedule, so she knows when she can catch you sneaking out.
>Spoon takes the bits and trots off, pausing to glance at you with a look of disdain.
>You hate that look.
>She has her mother’s business sense, the precocious little brat.
>You shake it off and put on your shoes, heading on the path home as the shroud of night begins to lift slowly in the sky.

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>You adjust your sweater, the warm sun cutting through the cold winter air.
>The bite of December’s embrace is further warded away as you sip your hot tea, occupying your usual veranda seat at your favorite little café.
>You’re always sure to take a few days off when you feel you need it.
>After all, one of the benefits of being self-employed is you can always take time for yourself whenever you want.
>Besides, sitting with your cup of tea, watching p0nies bustle about their daily lives, is a great way to relax with your own thoughts.
>If it was warmer out, you may choose to wander the woods or the mountains for a little while, but p0ny-watching is insightful in its’ own way.
>You recognize a few past clients. One or two glance at you with a smile and a blush, but nobody really pays you any mind.
>Kind of the way it’s always been. P0nies pay for your services under the cover of night, but in the light of day, nobody knows you.
>Part of the business, you suppose as you pour yourself another cuppa, adding two sugars and stirring gently, the clinking inaudible against the hustle and bustle of the everyday.
>There’s Roseluck, not a frequent client but she tends to like the ropes.
>The Mayor blushes and quickens her pace when she notices you.
>She’s a biter, that one. You always make sure to pack antiseptic when she calls.
>There goes Colgate…
>She glances at you as she walks and smiles, and you give her a genuine smile back.
>For someone so used to pasting on fake smiles for the sake of the client, smiling for real feels almost foreign to you.
>It dawns on you that, despite knowing many, many p0nies, nop0ny ever speaks to you in broad daylight.
>Well, except for Big Mac.
>Even Colgate doesn’t associate with you in publ-
>She’s trotting toward you.
>Huh, does she like this café as well?
>She’s smiling as she approaches your table.
>Maybe she’s meeting a friend.
>”Good afternoon, Anon!”
>…
>What?
>…
>”…Anon?”
“What? Oh! Miss Colgate!”
>You stammer.
>You never stammer.
“It…is a pleasure t-to see you. Is there something I can do for you?”
>She giggles as she sits across the table from you.
>”Do I need to want something to come say hello to a friend?”
>Friend?
“Oh….I’m sorry, how terribly impolite…I was just surprised, that’s all.”
>You smile sheepishly as you signal the waiter for more tea, and a second cup.
>”Surprised? At what?”
“Well…most p0nies don’t come over and talk to me in broad daylight.”
>Colgate frowns as the waiter sets down a fresh pot and a second cup.
>”That sounds awfully lonely. Why is that?”
>You don’t have an immediate answer.
“….I….never really thought about why. I suppose the combination of my unique species and my occupation would make approaching me in public an…awkward proposal.”
>The mare cocks an eyebrow like you just told her that snow was really frosting.
>”Awkward? Why?”
“Well…not only am I human, my chosen profession is not exactly well regarded, nor a secret to most of the public. I imagine being seen with me in public would ‘imply the wrong idea.’ In fact, the only p0ny who normally spends time with me in public is my occasional assistant, and even then it is usually to discuss business.”
>That’s only because Mac knows full well his sisters would never be interested in your services.
>…Perhaps someday, you’ll tell him about Granny Smith’s last birthday.
>”…Well that’s a load of horsefeathers!”
>…God damn do you love Equestrian curse words.
>Oddly adorable.
“Why do you say that?”
>”Well…you’re you, right? You’re not your job. Just because you provide things some p0nies find vulgar doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have friends!”
>…
>What?
>Once again, you find yourself without a response as you chew the words in your brain, sipping your tea.
>Come to think of it…
“…I’ve never really had friends. Even before I ended up in Equestria.”
>Colgate sets her cup down, staring at you.
>It makes you blink in surprise.
>”Now I know –that’s- a lie. You have one friend.”
“Who? Mac? That’s more like a business association…”
>”No, you blunderhead. Me.”
“You?”
>She smiles. “Yes, me.”
“But…you’re a client.”
>”Nuh uh. Say it with me, friend.”
“Client.”
>”Friend.”
>You sigh as Colgate leans on the table, leering at you.
>”What’s my name?”
“Colgate…”
>”And what am I?”
“…Friend.”
>She smiles in victory.
>”See? That wasn’t hard, was it?”
>What an odd mare.
>Still, that word…
>Friend…
>It gives you an unfamiliar warm feeling, right in your chest.
“…Alright, then…if you are to be my friend, then I suppose it is your turn to tell me about yourself.”
>Her eyes spark, like you just gave her the keys to a tank and told her to go nuts.
>…
>Perhaps it is not too late to have her call the guard.