(AiE) Claiming Her Man

https://www.fimfiction.net/story/385944/claiming-her-man

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>Well good on you, Anon. You should feel proud of yourself. Look at you. You’ve finally got your shit together. Here you are. Nice suit. Pristine red tie. A nice, candlelit dinner at a fine Italian restaurant. Or whatever pony Italian is. They serve noodles. And for once, you’re expecting a guest. A guest of the opposite sex.
>You’re on a date—not just any date, a blind date—and you almost need to hold your leg down to prevent it from tapping it from the anxiety. There’s only one thing you know about your date for this evening: she’s a Diamond Dog. This means two things. One, stay away from the b-word. In their culture, there’s no worse racial slur. Except maybe ‘mutt’, but that one is odd. THEY can say it, but ponies can’t. God help the poor pony that gets caught saying it. It's weird.
>If there were other humans here, you wouldn't even think about dating another species. You fucking racist. But you're alone, the Diamond Dogs' strange, anthropomorphic forms are about the closest thing in Equestria you can find that’s human-esque and can still have an intelligent conversation with. It only makes logical sense that this species should be what you try to stick your dick in. Oh, and romance and emotional connection, or whatever. That too.
>Hell, it’ll be kinda like dating a furry. Furries are cool. Most of the time.
>“Uhm, excuse me?” you hear a feminine voice say from beside you. You turn your head toward the source, and you see her. A smile involuntarily forms on your lips as you rise from your chair out of respect.
>She’s adorable, and that’s putting it lightly. She has a very full hairstyle that could almost rival Pinkie Pie for fluffiness. She has deep sapphire eyes that are filled with a reserved skittishness, but also... a desire to be able to trust. One of her paws crosses the front of her pink turtleneck sweater, holding her opposite shoulder where her purse hangs.
>“Would you happen to be Anonymous?” she asks. “I-I’ve never seen a human before, but given that everyone else here is a pony…”
“Yeah!” you say, suddenly completely lost on what you should do with your hands. Do you go for the polite handshake? Fistbump? You settle for a sweeping gesturing to the seat on the other side of the table. “It’s really nice to meet you. You must be Sapphire.”
>“Yeah, it’s nice to meet you.” She smiles shyly and moves to the other side of the table, setting her purse on the floor and taking the seat across from you. “I had to admit, I didn’t know what to expect from the description I read, but I can see why you joined a Diamond Dog dating service. You really aren’t too different from us.”
“Well, except for the whole, you know, not a Diamond Dog thing. But I am a Bowie fan.”
>Sapphire blinks, her expression blank.
“Gah, sorry,” you say. “I’m still working on the whole ‘humor’ thing since I got stranded in Equestria. It’s a long, terrible story.”
>“R-right,” she says. “I won’t ask then. But I’d love to listen! If you wanna tell, that is.”
>You shake your head. Damn it, Anon. Don’t fuck this up. This is already awkward and about you. Pivot. Change the subject.
“So! Gem inspector?” you ask. “What lead you into that line of work?”
>She pauses, taking her glass of water to take a sip and clear her throat.
>“Well, Diamond Dogs have a, well… reputation for liking gems. Unlike Ponies who use gems as a way to decorate or show affection, or dragons who use them for… well. Food. Diamond Dogs use them as a form of Currency. Much like how Ponies use gold for bits. The ponies use the gold standard, and Diamond Dog society uses a gem evaluation process to determine the worth of a gem so it can be converted into a paper currency that easily transfers into other forms of currency depending where we go.”
>You blink. That was words, you think. Oh god. Economics was never your strong suit.
“I think most of those were words. But if I’m guessing right, it’s kind of like a banker. The gems get turned into money that you guys can use in society.”
>Sapphire smiles and nods politely.
>“Yeah, that’s right.”
“But, uh.” You pause, then shake your head. “That’s cool.”
>She tilts her head, much like a normal dog would if it were confused.
>“What?” she asks.
“It’s just. I dunno. It seems like it could get more and more difficult to curb inflation. As more and more money gets introduced into an already closed system… wouldn’t it overall drive down the value of each gem as more gems get introduced?”
>Sapphire’s eyes light up and she claps her paws together.
>“That’s actually where my job comes in!” she says with a wide smile. “As time goes on, my job is to help control how much currency is awarded for each new gem obtained! There’s still a lot of Diamond Dogs that spend their lives mining the soil for gems, trying to get rich quick. But there’s even more who have decided to embrace the society we’re creating and focus on doing services that improve our society as opposed to taking advantage of it. So we still try to reward those who help our bottom line by giving more value to our little nation, but the reward is more aimed at the sale and distribution of goods and services over just finding and selling things. Over time, finding new gems will be more and more difficult, and then the system will even out, but since this is all just still starting, we need to make sure we don’t let others game the system!”
>She pauses, staring at you expectantly. What the fuck did she just say? Like, hold on. Uh. Don’t be awkward about it.
“Totally. That makes absolute sense.”
>She smiles widely, then blushes for a moment.
>“Sorry, I got a little overexcited. These sort of… deep socio-political situations always fascinate me. I know it’s kinda stupid. It’s just… Diamond Dogs usually get such a bad reputation, you know? And now that there seems to be a trend of ‘bad guys becoming good guys’ in Equestria, I’m just happy to see that we’re trying to ride the bandwagon too.”
“I’m sure. There’s a lot of, uh, bias against Diamond Dogs around here,” you reply.
>“You’re telling me,” she says. “But it seems like I found someone a little different.”
>There’s a lighthearted tone to her voice. Her posture seems to have relaxed some after that talk. Strange; who would have thought that talking about her job would get her to open up. Talking about your own job would only make you more miserable. You go home or do things like this so you can get away from work, not think about it more.
>“Oh! Your date arrived!” the waitress mare says, walking up to your table. “Would the two of you like anything other than water to drink?”
>Sapphire’s body goes rigid again. She then glares at the waitress.
>“No, thank you,” she says firmly.
“No, I’m good. Thanks.”
>“Need a moment to look over the menu?” the waitress asks nicely.
“Yeah, please,” you say instinctively.
>“Sure thing,” she says, bustling away.
>Your attention moves back to Sapphire who relaxes some again.
“Everything alright?” you ask gently.
>“What?” she says, as if waking from some sort of daydream. “Yeah! Yeah. So! What are you thinking of getting?”
>You look down over the menu. To be honest, you know exactly what you want. This restaurant is one of the few places at the edge of Ponyville that actually serves-
>“Ohmygawsh, they have steak!” she exclaims, as if she were presented with a box of chocolates.
>You may be in love.
“You eat meat?” you ask, like a child would ask for a cookie.
>“You bet I eat meat,” she says matter of factly. “A life without meat is just, like, a lifetime of sadness. What poor creature would have to go through a sort of torture like that?”
>You set down the menu and lean in.
“You have no idea what it’s like having to deal with these vegan ponies sometimes,” you whisper loudly. “They just see it as, like, murder. And I just don’t understand it.”
>She snickers as she closes her menu too.
>“Sounds like two steaks then,” she says with a smile. “That made that easy.”
“Okay, no. I need to ask you a serious question,” you ask. She straightens, the edges of her mouth flatten. “What are your views on bacon?”
>She involuntarily chuckles.
>“Silly Anon. Bacon is for eating, not for viewing.”
“Oh my god, yeeesss.”
>“But the real question,” she asks. “Is how do you cook it?”
“In a pan, duh. The only real way to make bacon. Plus it sets up your pan to make-”
>“Scrambled eggs?” she interrupts.
“You know it!”
>“If you’re trying to gain brownie points with me through food, it might just work,” Sapphire says teasingly.
“Duly noted,” you say with a smile.
>The waitress mare returns to the table, holding a pad of paper in her magical grip. Huh. You didn’t even notice she was a unicorn. Hell, you didn’t even notice her mane or fur color until right now. You’ve just been so enamored by Sapphire.
>“What can I get you two?” she asks.
>Sapphire tenses up once more and grips the edge of the table. Weird. Is she racist against ponies? Is that a thing? Social anxiety maybe?
“Two steak plates, please.”
>“And how would you two like your steak?” she asks.
“Rare, please,” you say.
>“Same,” your date says firmly when the pony turns to her.
>The mare nods with a smile.
>“It’ll be just a bit. Thanks!”
>As the mare trots off, the Diamond Dog breathes out a sigh of relief.
“Are you sure everything is alright?” you ask.
>Sapphire chuckles to herself nervously.
>“Is it that noticeable?”
>You nod slightly.
>“It’s just. Ugh,” she sighs, her ears turning down. “Try to understand. Diamond Dogs—in terms of, like, evolution—are still a really young species. So we have a lot of the same feelings as primitive dogs. The unending loyalty. The skittishness around new folk. Add that on top of this being my first time in Ponyville and, well. I’m really on edge.”
“Well, maybe next time I’ll have to come down to your area.”
>The words slip out of your mouth before you realize what you said. Her ears perk up and a sort of twinkle shimmers in her eye. A smile curls at the edge of her lips.
>“I’d like that,” she says. “That is, unless you turn out to be a creep.”
>You raise one hand in the air and place the other over your heart. “I solemnly swear that I am probably not a creep.”
>Sapphire laughs and takes a drink of her water.
“So what do you like?” you ask. “What do you do for fun where you’re from?”
>“Oh, you know. A little of this, a little of that. I love to read. I have some plants that I water everyday and love to pieces. I love to go to movies on the weekends. I really just keep myself busy.”
“Really?” you ask. “Any pets?”
>She nearly chokes on her water as she sets it down. “Wow, uhm. Okay. Like, fish or something? Or…”
>You pause for a moment, trying to figure out what in the world she’s talking about. Now it’s your turn to tilt your head in confusion. “Is there… some other kind of pet ownership?”
>She slowly smiles and shakes her head. “Okay. So, we used to be dogs in a past life,” she says teasingly. “Think about it.”
>You pause, looking at her. Diamond Dogs used to be dogs. Which means pet ownership would be… oh. Your eyes grow wide and she begins to nod.
>“Yeah. Now you get it. Now you can see why I was caught so off guard.”
“YEAH! Yeah. Sorry. Uh. I didn’t know.”
>“Heh, it’s no problem, just… give it a few dates,” she says with a wink.
>Oh. Oh! Oh~
>But, wait a minute. This whole thing… this whole date. It keeps coming down to her species. Race. Whatever. The two of you have spent so much time talking about Diamond Dogs rather than just her… Hell, you wouldn’t blame her if she was just silently being nice about being so… objectified? Stereotyped?
>The point is, you’ve probably done nothing but make her uncomfortable this whole time, you little shit. Fix it.
“Hey, uh. I’m sorry. I really don’t mean to keep asking these stupid questions,” you ask. “I just want to get to know you. I don’t mean to be crude or anything.”
>She shakes her head and waves it off. “It’s no big deal. I’ve been trying to hold off from asking too many weird ‘human’ questions this whole time. Answering a few questions about my own species is nothing.”
“Oh? Weird human questions?”
>She freezes, a scarlet flush spreading across her cheeks. She takes a deep sip of her water, vainly trying to drown whatever words were already roaming free in the open.
“Well?” you ask with a small smirk. "What weird human questions?"
>“Well, like. I don’t want to offend you, or something.”
“Nah, I don’t bite. Hard.”
>Another deep scarlet overcomes her face as she sets down her glass once more and clears her throat.
>“Okay, so… no I shouldn’t be doing this.”
“No! Really,” you say. “Please. Ask me anything.”
>“Okay, so…” she pauses, trying to recompose herself. “So, humans come from monkeys, right?”
“Correct!” you say.
>“Well, Diamond Dogs still have a lot of evolution to go through. We still have some… lingering traits that... Well, we can’t necessarily get away from. And I was wondering if there were any things like that that humans have from monkeys.”
>You pause, completely unsure how to answer the question. You aren’t necessarily a monkey expert.
“Well, I mean. We use tools? Like, silverware and stuff,” you say. “Monogamous, mostly. Mate for life unless something absolutely insane happens or there’s other, non-traditional things. Actually, never mind. That gets really weird. But, uh... I don’t know, was there something you had in mind?”
>She pauses, taking a deep breath, then shakes her head. “It’s nothing. Forget it. It’s really not a big deal.”
“No, really. Let me ease your mind. Just spit it out.”
>Sapphire closes her eyes, straightens her posture, and then takes a deep breath.
>“Do you fling your poop at other people?”
>A moment of silence passes between the two of you. Your hand moves to your mouth, trying to stifle the deep laugh slowly building down in your stomach.
“No. We do not fling our poop at people.”
>Sapphire noticeably relaxes and you begin to laugh heartily.
“Really?” you ask. “That was your biggest concern?”
>“Hey! You never know how rumors are!” she asks, beginning to laugh herself.
>Just then, the waitress mare returns, hovering two plates in the air with her magic.
>“Here you go, you two!” she says happily. “Two steak plates-”
>“Back off, bitch!” Sapphire growls, leaping out of her chair. “He’s mine!” She then springs into your lap. A second later, you feel something extremely warm trickle down your leg.
>You tense up in surprise and confusion. What? Wait. What?! What the fuck is happening
>“I’m claiming him. You can’t take him now. That’s it. Fuck off.”
>A silent moment passes between the three of you, then you smell it.
>Yep, that’s piss. Your date just pissed on you.
>Sapphire freezes, turning to you with a horrified expresion. “Oh god. I just. Oh god. I. Uh. I’m so sorry!” she stammers, rising off of your seat.
>“Oh god. I just. Oh god. I. Uh. I’m sorry!”
>You watch her run out of the restaurant at full speed, leaving you alone with a very confused mare and a very damp pair of pants.
“I, uh. I’ll take the check,” you say quietly.
~~~
>You walk down the street, carrying two doggie ba- erm, carrying two leftover boxes of untouched, still warm, steak dinner. You can’t help but feel… disappointed. And confused. Actually, more confused than disappointed.
>Who wouldn't be upset? She fucking pissed on you. But let's stop for a moment and think about this rationally. She got into your lap and pissed on your leg. In her words, she said, “I’m claiming him.”
>While you may not be a monkey expert, you do know a thing or two about dogs. Dogs on Earth used urine as a way of marking their territory. For the most part, Equestrian dogs aren’t too far off. Maybe what happened to her was a sort of… instinctual response? Fuck, man. This just got weird. And you're pretty sure you're not okay with it.
>Then, in the night air, you hear it.
>Sobbing.
>You turn your ears away from the road and find a hill with a tall tree at the very top that overlooks a lake on the edge of town. It’s muffled now, as if whoever was crying is trying to stay quiet. You have a strong feeling you know who it is.
>You take a deep breath and wonder to yourself… is this honestly something you want to consider pursuing? She’s smart. She seems kind. She loves meat. She’s good looking. Just the whole… pee thing was pretty weird. Would that be normal? Cause if that happens on a normal basis… ugh.
>Then again, think about it in a different direction. Maybe what just happened was not a weird, sexual, kink thing in their society. In that case, she’s probably dying of embarrassment right now. Besides, there’s going to be worse body fluids to clean up in the future if you’re ever in a life-long relationship with someone. Just sayin. It happens.
>You know what? Fuck it.
>You walk off the path to your home and up the hill. As you do, the sobbing becomes more and more clear as you see her sitting beneath the tree, her back against the trunk, and her head buried in her arms.
“Hey,” you say quietly.
>She starts, her head snapping up to look at you, black mascara running down the sides of her face.
“I, uh. I figured we could finish our date outside,” you venture. “Considering-”
>“Go away,” she says, looking away. “I’m so embarrassed right now I could just die.”
“I bet,” you say quietly. “I can understand why.”
>“I just. I couldn’t control it. Some deep part of me was just like ‘that mare is gonna take him away’ and I just acted,” she says.
“Yeah?” you say. “I kinda… guessed as much.”
>You sit down beside her, and she still looks away from you, refusing to make eye contact. Not great, but at least she didn't get up to leave.
>Maybe there’s still a chance to fix this.
>You open one of the leftover boxes and pull out a steak. “Hey,” you say. “How about I make it even?”
>She looks to you curiously.
>You take the steak and wipe it all over your white shirt, staining the fabric a deep brown ‘steak’ color. When you're good an filthy, you drop it back into the box, then start ruffling your hair. After that, you take off your tie and put it around your forehead like a bandanna, then pop your inner collar halfway.
“There, now I look hideous, and you still look gorgeous. Listen, I like you. And if it’s not too much… why don’t we just be embarrassed together, start over, and eat lukewarm, rare steak with our hands under the stars?”
>She smiles, shaking her head.
>She sniffs, a hopeful smile growing on her face. “Really?” she asks.
“Really.”
>“You’re weird,” she says flatly. “If you’re into pee stuff, that’s really not my thing.”
“It’s really not my thing either. Like, at all.”
>“Good,” she says, taking one of the boxes with a smile. “Then consider this date restarted.”
>And so the two of you sit under that tree, eating steak with your hands and laughing about this or that. Talking about movies, reminiscing about family, and sharing private dreams with each other. You never really know on a first date whether you’ve found someone you want to spend the rest of your life with, but usually you get a feeling deep in your stomach that tells you that you’d like to take the time to get to know someone. In the case of Sapphire, you could definitely say that getting to know her and spending more time with her wouldn’t be the worst pisstake you could make.