"I didn't order a six-foot block of ice," Thomas said, rubbing his eyes with a hoof.

  "Nobody did," the burly stallion grunted, undoing the straps around the giant block. "All the businesses get one, town hall's orders. Civic pride and all that."

  Thomas stared at the enormous, glistening block. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

  "Whatever you want, as long as it's here on display through the weekend." The delivery pony shrugged. "You can leave it as is, but then you pay a fine. Five hundred, last I heard."

  "They can't just spring that on a pony—"

  "Look, I'm just here to deliver. Any complaints should go to that mare running the Chamber of Commerce." He pointed down the street with his hoof. "Looks like she's on her way."

  Thomas followed the stallion's hoof and saw a green mare approaching, her mane styled in a bun tilting to one side, with a retinue of fuzziwugs bouncing around her.

  "Good morning, Dr. Fairfax!" Becca called out, sipping from a coffee mug. "Good to see you jumping in, getting in the spirit of things!"

  "I'm at a disadvantage," Thomas said. "What exactly is going on?"

  "Why, the annual business district ice sculpture contest!"

  "Was there advance notice?"

  "Letters went out in December." She took a long, leisurely sip.

  "But I didn't open until January," Thomas pointed out.

  "Oh. Well, there you go." Becca smiled sweetly.

  Thomas sighed. "I don't really have the staff to handle an extra project."

  "I know we're all very busy," Becca replied, "but note that I am the only one in my department and yet here I am. I think we can all do our part to raise community pride, hmm?"

  "With all due respect, there are lives hanging in the balance."

  "I know," said Becca, though Thomas didn't think she did. "But surely, with everyone in the office giving a little bit, it will come together. This event is great for community spirit, not to mention tourism dollars! We have journalists from nationwide publications covering the event."

  Just then, Tabby and Strawberry arrived, trotting up to join the scene.

  "Ooh, is it ice sculpture time?" Strawberry said with a grin.

  "I wasn't aware of the event," said Thomas.

  "Huh, look at that." Tabby glanced at the block of ice. "Yeah, I'm not doing that. I'm cold. I'm going inside." She turned and trotted into the clinic.

  Becca, undeterred, turned back to Thomas. "The public is invited to tour Main Street this evening, followed by a dance at the casino!"

  "Great," Thomas muttered.

  "Don't worry, we'll be coming by with hot cocoa throughout the day," Becca promised, flashing him a smile before she continued down the street. The fuzziwugs bounced after her.

  "Well, hot cocoa. That makes everything worthwhile," Thomas said to no one in particular.

  Strawberry gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, I assumed you knew. Most of the businesses contract fuzziwug artisans, but they get booked up months in advance." She paused. "I guess we'll just have to see what we can do ourselves."

  * * *

  Inside the clinic, the three employees gathered around a counter in the back.

  “So what are we sculpting?” Thomas asked, trying to sound more confident than he felt. His eyes flicked between Tabby and Strawberry.

  “A cat,” said Tabby quickly. She crossed her forelegs over her chest with a smug look.

  Thomas raised an eyebrow. “But then the dog ponies will cry prejudice,” he said.

  “Why do I care?” Tabby retorted. She shrugged.

  Thomas sighed, rubbing his temple with a hoof. “You don’t, but I have a clientele to think about,” he reminded her.

  “How about something more generic, like… a syringe?” Strawberry offered.

  “Well, it doesn’t really matter, as long as it’s something, right?” he asked.

  “But… who’s going to do the work?” Strawberry asked. “This is new for all of us. We’re not exactly skilled with sculpting ice.”

  “We’ll work in shifts,” Thomas said. “It can’t be that hard.”

  Tabby huffed, clearly unimpressed with the plan.

  * * *

  “Brr!” said Strawberry, shivering as she stepped into the clinic. She set down the chisel with a soft clink, blowing on her hooves “That’s hard work!”

  Thomas looked up from his paperwork. “Tabby, it’s your turn,” he said.

  “Nah, I talked it over with Strawberry. She’s taking a break, and then she’ll do my shift for me,” Tabby said, leaning back in her chair and studying her hoof as if it were the most important thing in the world.

  Thomas blinked. “She’s been out there for the past hour!” he said, staring at her.

  “I have cold sensitivity,” Tabby replied, meeting his gaze with a level look. Her tone was calm, but there was a challenge in her eyes.

  “Well, maybe if you were to wear gloves, instead of leaving them off and then complaining of the cold!” he snapped.

  “It’s a medical condition,” Tabby said, her voice cool as the block of ice. “Do you want me to sue you for harassment?”

  Thomas groaned, throwing up his hooves. “That would be discrimination... oh, for crying out loud, you’re impossible,” he muttered. He turned to Strawberry, who was still rubbing her hooves together. “Strawberry, you stay inside. I’ll go out again,” he said. “And make sure she makes herself useful,” he added with a dark look at Tabby.

  Tabby stared back, her eyes narrowing into slits. For a moment, it seemed like she was about to argue further. But then something shifted in her expression.

  “Fine, I’ll do it,” she finally snapped. She picked the chisel up from the counter. Without another word, she swept out the door.

  Thomas watched her go, then glanced at the clock. Three appointments this afternoon, sculpture judging at five, and a fecal float still sitting under the microscope from this morning. He didn't have time to manage Tabby's theatrical protests and run a clinic.

  Pick your battles, he told himself. At least she was working on it now.

  * * *

  A block over, an ostentatious rearing pegasus carved of ice, wings spread, looking utterly majestic, was swarmed by a horde of fuzziwugs shaping the finer details with deft hands. Tabby snorted. That was Athena’s creation; of course it would be obnoxiously overdone. The craft shop had an icy sewing machine. The salsa shop had a chili pepper of ice; and the SSSS, an ice cream cone.

  Tabby sighed, shoving some strands of hair out of her face with a hoof. She hadn't meant to take advantage of Strawberry — but if someone agreed to something, Tabby took it at face value. Now Thomas hated her. Well, that was nothing new.

  While she was lost in her thoughts, an unfamiliar yellow mare approached, her bright eyes sharp and observant. She carried a notepad and pen.

  “Hello, I'm Liliana Penstable, writing for Homeland Trends,” said the mare, her gaze unwavering. “Do you have a moment for some questions?”

  “Uhh…” Tabby hesitated, her brow crinkling in confusion.

  “To start with, what is the theme?” Liliana gestured at the block of ice that was… something. It vaguely resembled a shape, Tabby thought, but was far from complete.

  “I dunno. I’m not the artistic coordinator or anything,” Tabby replied. She glanced at the ice, squinting. “It’s a… syringe. I guess.” But it looked more like a rough-hewn log, if anything.

  “Oh, to go with the medical nature of the business. Well, that’s certainly… clever. By some standards.” Her expression betrayed skepticism.

  Tabby felt indignation rising.

  “Well,” Liliana said, slipping her notepad into her bag. “I’ll let you get back to work. I need to speak to the ponies who work here.”

  “I work here!” Tabby said indignantly.

  Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

  “Oh, you do? In what capacity?” Liliana looked at her. “I assumed you were an itinerant craftspony brought in for the occasion.”

  “I am a veterinary assistant,” Tabby declared, holding her chin at an angle.

  “Hmm, I see. Is Dr. Fairfax in?” Liliana asked.

  “Yes, but he's in an appointment,” Tabby replied, her eyes narrowing.

  “Oh, he'll have time to see me; we’re old friends,” the mare said with a smile. “Just tell him it’s Liliana.”

  “I’ll see if he can fit you in,” Tabby said before stalking off into the clinic.

  * * *

  Tabby pushed open the exam room door just as Thomas was finishing up with a patient. He glanced at the clock, noting that it hadn’t even been an hour since he’d last seen her.

  “Liliana is here,” Tabby announced, leaning against the doorframe.

  Thomas froze mid-motion. “What?!”

  “Some kind of journalist,” Tabby continued. “She said you would have time for her.”

  “She’s here? Now?” Thomas repeated.

  “I can send her away,” she offered.

  “No, it’s fine,” Thomas said quickly, shaking his head. “It’s just another thing I wasn’t expecting today.” He moved toward the door, making his way to the reception area with Tabby trailing behind.

  As soon as they entered the reception, Liliana’s face lit up. “Thomas!” she exclaimed.

  “Liliana, what a surprise,” Thomas replied, noting that Tabby hovered nearby, clearly not intending to leave. “Tabby, why don’t you go… uh… somewhere that isn’t here.”

  “No, I have to… watch the printer,” she said, grounding herself by the office utility and mashing buttons with little care for what they actually did.

  Thomas sighed inwardly. He could take this to his office, but disappearing alone with Liliana would only lead to conjecture he didn't want swirling around the office.

  “Look at you!” Liliana said. “My, how long has it been? Ten years? And a business owner!” There was something overly bright in Liliana's enthusiasm.

  Thomas shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, aware of the two ponies in the room who were doing their best to appear disinterested but failing miserably. Thomas made the introductions. “Liliana went to dance academy with me in New Pony,” he said quickly.

  “We were partners!” Liliana clarified.

  “Oh, how nice,” said Strawberry with a smile. Tabby made an unintelligible sound and shoved the paper tray shut with unnecessary force..

  “It was just a thing my mom signed me up for,” Thomas quickly added

  “It was an intense four-year course of study in ballroom dance at the premier dance studio, Tanzen Academy,” Liliana corrected, tossing her mane with a flourish.

  “Well, that certainly is... something,” said Tabby with a smirk.

  “Impressive,” Strawberry added, with a sharp look at her friend.

  “We can show the locals how it’s done at the dance tonight, isn’t that right?” Liliana cast a warm glance at Thomas. “For old time’s sake.”

  “Oh, um, sure.” Thomas hesitated. “How long are you in town?”

  “Just today,” Liliana replied. “I’m writing about the ice sculpture display, and I just had to look you up. I was hoping we might have some time in private?”

  Thomas glanced at Tabby, who had returned to jabbing printer buttons. She didn't look at him, but her jaw was set tight.

  “I’m booked solid for the rest of the day. Maybe we could meet for dinner before the casino dance,” he suggested.

  “Dinner, lovely idea, I’ll make the reservation, let’s say six?” Liliana’s voice was sweet. Tabby smirked.

  “Sounds… good,” Thomas agreed.

  #

  Tabby’s breath puffed in the crisp air as she carefully traced a last invisible detail along the tip of the syringe with a chisel. “There,” she said, stepping back and giving it an appraising look. “No one can say we didn’t give it our all.”

  Strawberry stood beside her, brushing ice shavings off her coat. “It might not be perfect, but it’s done,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of exhaustion.

  The judges, a trio of distinguished ponies with scarves and clipboards, hovered a few feet away, observing the sculpture with serious expressions. They murmured quietly among themselves, jotting notes.

  Tabby wiped her brow and leaned in toward Strawberry. “I think we’re too avant-garde for them,” she whispered, a smirk tugging at her lips. Strawberry stifled a giggle.

  The two mares stood in silence for a moment, watching as the judges moved on to the next sculpture. The quiet felt peaceful, as if the effort of the day was finally settling into contentment.

  “We did our best,” Tabby said at last.

  Strawberry nodded, bumping her shoulder lightly against Tabby’s. “Yeah, we did.”

  * * *

  “So you see,” Liliana was in the middle of saying later that evening over dinner, “I only need this small investment to hire a programmer for the website. It’s going to allow for unique travel experiences, and it’s going to be big. You can get in on the ground floor.”

  Thomas tried to follow the pitch, but an online boutique niche travel agency wasn't exactly his area. Still, he found himself relaxing as he realized this was purely a business proposition, not a romantic one.

  “How big of an investment?” Thomas asked cautiously.

  “I’m asking for a five thousand commitment,” Liliana replied. “I already have three other backers lined up. I just need one more to get started on website development… it could be you.”

  Thomas drummed his hoof on the glossy portfolio Liliana had handed him, filled with details of the project. “I’ll have to think about it,” he said.

  “Of course,” Liliana responded. “But could I have your answer by, say, the end of the week?”

  As they exited the restaurant, Liliana gave Thomas a look that seemed to carry unspoken words. Her lips twitched into an amused smile.

  “What is it, Lil?” Thomas asked.

  “Well…” Liliana paused. “The look of relief on your face when you realized I only want your money is telling.”

  “Telling you what?” Thomas frowned.

  "Well…" Liliana paused, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "That assistant of yours didn't seem too happy to see me."

  "Tabby? She's like that with everyone."

  "Mm-hmm. If you say so." Liliana's gave him a knowing look before moving on. “But—other than signing a check—there's just one more thing I'd ask of you,” she said. “Dance the opening dance with me. I put a word in Becca’s ear, and we will have the floor to ourselves. It’ll be fun!”

  Thomas hesitated. Dancing with Liliana in front of the whole town wasn't exactly low-profile. But it was hard to say no when she was looking at him like that.

  "Let's do it," he said.

  * * *

  Becca, ever the enthusiastic emcee, stepped up to the microphone as feedback crackled. Ponies mingled and sipped on hot cocoa as they eagerly awaited the announcement.

  “Judges are currently deciding on the sculpture winners,” Becca’s voice rang out. “But in the meantime, a special treat, our very own Dr. Fairfax and Lilana Penstable, the 2003 Tanzen Academy waltz finalists, will be opening the dance!” She gestured toward the dance floor, where Thomas and Liliana stood poised to begin.

  The music began. Thomas and Liliana moved together with the grace of seasoned professionals, their hooves gliding effortlessly across the floor. Each turn, each dip was executed with precision, a testament to their years of practice. The crowd watched in awe.

  The final notes of the waltz hung in the air as the pair gracefully concluded their routine. For a brief moment, the room was silent, and then someone started clapping, and the whole room joined in. Liliana beamed beside him, clearly enjoying the spotlight.

  After the dance, the attention came in waves. Mayor Ainsworth was the first to approach. "That was fantastic, Dr. Fairfax! You've been hiding some serious talent!"

  "It was all Thomas," Liliana said modestly, though the twinkle in her eye betrayed her pride in their performance.

  * * *

  Tabby watched Thomas and Liliana waltz across the floor, their steps perfectly synchronized, as if they had been made to dance alongside each other. They really did look perfect together.

  As the crowd surged toward the couple, Tabby quietly slipped out of the casino hall.

  * * *

  Thomas was standing near the refreshment table, sipping his drink, as Strawberry joined him. The energy in the room was vibrant, but the absence of one pony was palpable.

  “Where’s Tabby?” Thomas asked, glancing around.

  “She left a little while ago,” Strawberry said with a sigh. “Said she was tired.”

  He nodded. “Figures. She doesn’t really stick around for these things.”

  Becca’s voice crackled through the speakers. “All right, everypony, gather 'round! Time to announce the winners of the Ice Sculpture Contest!”

  They both turned their attention to the stage as Becca rattled off the winners. Ainsworth Consulting took first with their majestic pegasus. The Meadowbrook Art Collective snagged second with their intricately carved ice tree, and the Back Alley Bakers’ Guild earned third for their whimsical ice castle.

  “And finally,” the announcer continued, “an Honorable Mention goes to the Misty Hollow Veterinary Clinic for their... creative take on a syringe!”

  A polite smattering of applause followed.

  Strawberry laughed, shaking her head. Thomas smirked, thinking of the unimpressive sculpture that had earned them the consolation prize. “She really left before the announcement?”

  “Yes,” Strawberry said, sighing. “Tabby doesn’t really care about recognition. But she did her best.”

  Thomas nodded, staring into the crowd. “Yeah. She always does.”

  * * *

  Tabby paced around her living room. Her phone rang.

  She looked at the screen; it was Toby. She didn’t really want to talk just then, but Toby would be disappointed if she didn’t answer, so… “Hey,” she said.

  "Hey, Tabby. How was the party?"

  "It was fine," she replied, a bit too quickly. “I mean, there was cake. Yeah, it was fine.”

  "I’m sorry I couldn’t be there," Toby said. "We had an emergency at the hospital, a complicated foaling case."

  "It’s fine,” Tabby said distractedly, her vocabulary steadily going downhill as her weariness increased. “Did everything go okay with the foaling?"

  "Yeah, it was touch-and-go for a while, but we pulled through. Both mother and foal are doing well." There was a hint of pride in Toby’s voice.

  “That’s good,” said Tabby, stifling a yawn.

  “You’re tired,” Toby said.

  “Yeah… it’s been a long day, with the ice and everything...” Tabby trailed off.

  "I wish we could’ve spent the evening together," Toby said wistfully.

  There was a long pause.

  “Well, I’d better let you go,” Toby said.

  “Yeah… okay, goodnight.”

  “Goodnight. Tabby, I--”

  But Tabby had already ended the call.

  * * *

  “You won a prize last night, you know,” Thomas said upon Tabby’s arrival at the clinic the following morning.

  Tabby’s forehead crinkled. “What? That was a completely uninspired slapdash effort. I mean, the other businesses actually tried.”

  “Honorable Mention for, um, creative expression or something.”

  “Oh.” But Tabby didn’t seem interested in discussing the anomaly any longer. “Will we be seeing more of your friend Liliana?”

  Thomas chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “A loan... that's the business she had to discuss with me,” he explained.

  Tabby’s expression shifted slightly, and she hesitated. “Oh. I see.”

  There was an awkward silence between them. He watched as Tabby fidgeted, her gaze flicking around the room as if searching for something to anchor herself to.

  “Well, she put on quite a show last night,” Tabby finally said, her voice sounding forced.

  Thomas shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “That has always been her style.”

  “You seemed to be in your element,” Tabby observed, toying with a pen she had found.

  “That, no,” Thomas scoffed, shaking his head. “Give me a complicated surgery any day.”

  Tabby glanced up at that, feeling something in her chest loosening slightly. He'd rather be here, in the clinic, doing real work that meant something--not out there performing for crowds.

  "Well," she said, tossing the pen back on the desk, "those charts aren't going to file themselves." She slid off the counter and headed for the back room.