My Little Pinkie Pie - MLP Fanfic

Chapter 7 - Shopping

The doors slide open for me as I make my way inside. My stomach's tied up in a huge knot, I'm not sure if even Girl Scouts could untie.
I'm so paranoid about someone finding Pinkie out.

As I walk in, I am hit by the slight warmth of the heater.

"Winter is almost over," I think, trying to distract myself from the mission itself. But really, winter has just begun. So why did I just tell myself it was almost over? Urgh, I'm an idiot.

A shop assistant smiles warmly at me, and I hesitantly smile back at her. Although, it turns into a weird grimace that even a mother couldn't love.

I grab a plastic red basket from a stack of them by the counter and walk up and down the aisles, feeling Pinkie moving around occasionally. Every time she does this, I tense up and look around to make sure nobody has noticed.

I grab a small bag of pasta and inspect it to make sure none of the strands are broken, before carefully placing it in the basket, trying not to break a single strand.

I grab a few more supplies, and everything seems to be going fine. But there is one problem when I walk down the sugary sweets aisle. Pinkie keeps on elbowing my hip. I unzip the bag a smidge and peek in.

"What?" I softly whisper.

Pinkie points a hoof toward a bag of 'My Little Pony' ginger biscuits. I roll my eyes and shake my head, but then she whines some more, so I do what she wants quickly.

Then she bumps me again, pointing to a box of Oreos. I groan slightly, turning away from them, but when Pinkie threatens to squeal, I quickly throw the box into the basket.

I don't want her blackmailing me again, so I zip the bag up and head towards the check out.

The clerk gives me a strange look as he scans the My Little Pony biscuits. I flash him a bitch smirk as I pay and make my way to leave the store.

Abruptly, I am stopped by the same shop attendant. "Mam," she asks, "Can I look in your bag, please?"

I freeze. Oh crap.

I shake my head no. "You can't do that," I reply shakily.

"Miss, could I look in your bag?" She repeats, now suspicious.

"Why would you want to do that?" I answer. She moves uncomfortably. "Well, if I walk through those doors and they don't beep, I haven't got anything to show you."

With that, I turn quickly and speed walk out the doors. For the record, they don't beep.

When I reach home, I flop down on the couch and sigh in relief, unzipping the bag so Pinkie can climb out.

I carry the groceries into the kitchen and put them neatly in the pantry. Pinkie trots over to me and bangs her hoof on the pantry door, narrowing her eyes and scrunching up her nose.

I open the door, but stop her as she tries to climb up the shelves to retrieve the pony biscuits.

"Wait patiently," I say, sitting her down on a soft chair at the kitchen table.

Surprisingly, she does as I say.

I grab a large green plate and two smaller ones, carefully tear open the cookie packet and arrange them neatly on the large plate.

The biscuits are shaped like the ponies from the show, and also the show's logo. I place the cookies in the middle of the table and pour us two glasses of milk.

Pinkie almost bursts out of her seat, looking as excited as a little filly with beautiful straight hair can get.

I place two biscuits on a small plate for Pinkie and push the plate and milk towards her. She grabs one shaped like The One In the Show and chews on it intently, as if thinking about its' taste and texture.

I try one myself, and am surprised. They are strangely addictive, but they're not full of sugar and chemicals. They taste like really well made ginger bread ponies, and I wash the biscuit down with milk.

Pinkie does the same, sipping the beverage in the middle of the glass. She comes up with not only a milk moustache, but also a very epic milk beard. I giggle at this.

Pinkie grins widely at me, and I notice an odd sparkle appear in her eye, but think noting of it and grab another cookie.

When we finish eating, I distract Pinkie Pie with a few episodes of My Little Pony that I had recorded a while back, as I go and prepare dinner, which is pasta.

Pinkie is super cute when she tries to eat it, and ends up with sauce all over her face. She tries to suck each strand up, but it's taking her an awful long time. But I complain when she eats it any other way, if she does, she'll end up making a huge mess.

When she's finished, I wipe her mouth with a napkin and she follows me into the bathroom. "Bath time!" I exclaim.

Pinkie does a sort of skip, with a huge amount of bounce. Reminds me of Pepé Le Pew. She jumps around me, whinnying to show her delight.

I run the water as she leaps in, splashing and stomping her small hooves. After her bath, I wrap Pinkie in a white towel, prepare her bed which is opposite mine, and sit her down in it, brushing her long, straight, hot pink hair, staring at it in awe.

"I wish I had hair like that," I remark through mid brush.

Today has been exciting. I'm living the brony dream, and I can't believe this is all real. As I rest my head on the pillow that night, I can hear the faint sounds of Pinkie snoring softly. It lulls me to sleep.

I still can't believe she's here. The next question is; for how long?