"I'm sorry," Cal muttered, head down, adjusting the knot on Jasper's tie. He'd been too nervous earlier to get it quite right. Dorian Walters--might be best to refer to him mentally as Walters, or by face (slightly crooked nose, pale skin, brown hair)--poor fellow. Cal couldn't really imagine. But then he had never been particularly good at pitying anyone. Pity was not a pleasant emotion, not toward oneself, not by oneself, not by anyone. But he liked Dorian and didn't want him to feel terrible, terrified, or, above all, disdainful toward--Cal himself.

Dorian was off taking a shower in the guest room. He should be back soon, and then they were off to Diagon Alley, Jasper's suggestion.

"I suppose the worst that can possibly happen is he'll decide never to come back, try hiding, and we'll need to kidnap him again." He straightened Jasper's lapels twitchily, smoothed them, and stepped back, dropping his eyes. "Which is fun all around, really. But he may see reason if we--well, if we don't take him by Caedmon's and don't take him by the Sinistras'."

He stepped back toward the table, conscientiously avoiding Jasper, though he could still feel the warmth of his skin on his hands, and reached down to crumble one of the pop-tarts lying on the table.

"Try not to be ridiculously flirty," he added, giving Jasper a severe look and brushing crumbs off one hand. "I know it's difficult, but he's only twenty-one and hasn't any idea what Wizards are like, you'll scare him." That sounded much too soft for Cal. "And I can't do much with that, I prefer my test subjects relaxed and compliant."

Jasper stayed quiet as Cal did up his tie, looking down at the maroon silk with a slight crease of concentration in his forehead. When he finished he brushed his hands absentmindedly over Jasper's lapels, a habitual motion that followed the knotting of his tie every time. That was nearly every morning now; Jasper woke Cal up sometimes just for a Windsor knot (sometimes not just for that as well). Cal had mastered it, like martinis, just for Jasper. He supposed he sort of liked that.

"Try not to be ridiculously flirty."

Cal stepped back and gave Jasper a look as though he was a badly behaved child. Chastising yet mildly amused. Its severity was slightly spoiled when he realized he had poptart crumbs on his hand and had to brush them off. Jasper grinned, but Cal continued.

"I know it's difficult, but he's only twenty-one and hasn't any idea what Wizards are like, you'll scare him. And I can't do much with that, I prefer my test subjects relaxed and compliant."

No, no Jasper. Must not make incredibly obvious innuendo. No. Cal will bite you or something. Maybe I should--no. Instead, he leaned forward and gave Cal a reassuring kiss.

"I'll be the perfect gentleman."

He heard the door of the guest room open and dropped his voice. "Just like I always am when we go out."

Dorian appeared from the side hallway a moment later, looking much improved from the shower. Still a bit pasty, dark circles lingering, but not quite as unhappy and bedraggled as before. Jasper, ever the planner, hoped he could make today fun. Dorian certainly hadn't had a lot of it recently. He seemed like a nice bloke, maybe a little shy, but then again he probably thought he was going mental. Jasper noticed that his hair was wet, and it was cold out. He almost offered to spell it dry, but suspected that might fall outside Cal's boundaries of appropriate contact. Which mainly ruled out...any contact. Maybe Cal was a bit jealous. He settled for Accioing a spare coat and offering it to the pale young man.

"Here, it's quite windy in the Alley most days." He held out the coat, hoping that Dorian knew the value of YSL and the rules for eating around a cashmere blend. "Feeling better? I thought we might go to the Sinistra's, it's the best shop in London. Live My Little Ponies. But Cal thinks we'd better bore you with Flourish and Blott's and look at books. There's also Fortescue's if you feel like some post-breakfast ice cream. But c'mon, tell him you'd rather see the ponies."

Jasper grinned at Dorian hopefully, well aware that Cal was going to harm him somehow later.

Dorian was given enough time to retreat out of the dining room and back to his cell room. And he couldn’t get away fast enough. Best leave Cal and Jasper to it. Whatever ‘it’ was. And he decided very swiftly that it was far too early in the morning for that type of speculation. Sighing, he went about figuring out the mechanics of the shower in the en suite and stripping off as the water warmed. He placed the bathrobe and towel were in easy reach and that the door was locked before jumping in.

The hospitality being presented to the kidnapped was rather off putting. Or maybe his student poverty just made it disorientating and therefore lead him to paranoia. Still, after years of showering with whatever 99p shower gel he could skank from Tesco, the mint infusion stuff provided was pleasant. Likewise, after his days stalking through charity shops for something warm and cheap, his provided clothes were very generous. Now, was this bribery or attempt to comfort him? Why not both? he thought wryly as he made his way back towards the dining room, steeled after his brief break and recollection. He felt a little more composed.

Just a little, mind.

He was feeling much better, that is normal, when he bumped into the pair in the hallway. He took the offered coat and tried not startle at its softness after the rough wool of cheap jumpers and harsh acrylics of sweatshirts he was used to. He shrugged it in as the draught in the building got to his hair and the moisture lingering on the back of his neck, causing him to shiver.

"Feeling better? I thought we might go to the Sinistra's, it's the best shop in London. Live My Little Ponies. But Cal thinks we'd better bore you with Flourish and Blott's and look at books. There's also Fortescue's if you feel like some post-breakfast ice cream. But c'mon, tell him you'd rather see the ponies."

“Live My Little Ponies?” he repeated, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Is that a-” normal outing? Probably. The question dropped quickly from his lips and he began doing up his coat. After all, he was a werewolf, he was in the company of a wizard and some mad alchemist type- why should animate pink plastic ponies be unusual? Maybe he was apprehensive about the inclusion of the name Sinistra, which was obviously sounded a little to close to ‘sinister’ for his liking. Sinister live My Little Ponies …

And it sounded enough like some incomprehensible babble from the end of a pub crawl to provoke a smile and a short, concise laugh. Make him feel normal. Oh go on, he’d hazard it.

“Sounds like a laugh,” he declared shortly. Let's hope I don't regret this decision later ...

Dorian's reaction to the pony suggestion wasn't unlike Cal's. His own was stronger, of course, but then, Walters hadn't had the chance to experience the horror yet. One would think Jasper might just introduce him to Pinkie Pie--but then, maybe Jas had finally realized how loathsome the thing was and wanted to start in stages...

“Live My Little Ponies?" Dorian lifted one brow.

Yes, thank you, one for the sane--sane?--educated Cambridge men, pony-haters, sympathetic, sensitive sorts... who don't like pink things or fashion--Cal had been able to tell that much from how he'd been dressed, unless it was some obscure new high-end

“Is that a-”

"An abomination, actually." Cal tossed a peeved look at Jasper and shrugged into his own coat, flailing for one sleeve.

“Sounds like a laugh,” Dorian said.

"Famous last words... only joking." They went out the door; it was cold, stingingly so, but Diagon Alley had enough of packed-in body heat that he hardly felt it. He found his natural step somewhere between Dorian and Jasper--was Dorian really more nervous around Jas? It hardly made sense, but he supposed the magic thing, if one were a Muggle...

"Seriously, Jasper, we should go to Flourish and Blott's first; Dorian needs a few books on lycanthropy and Wizarding law and history and--well, whatever you like, actually, but I know I like to get a literary handle on things when they're utterly new, startling, and--there's not really a word shocking enough, is there--I am sorry." Somehow the way he said it was colder than Jasper's way, natively so, as though he just didn't have enough assurance to give over. Well; words would have to suffice. "It's really interesting stuff, though, too. And if you're curious I can tell you more about my work, things you can do with magic but without any yourself, things like--that."

He shrugged uncomfortably into the recesses of his coat and looked over at Dorian. "Or if you want magical ice-cream... don't listen to Jasper, he's obsessed with magical plastic ponies but not everyone in the Wizarding word is that daft." He poked Jasper in the arm--not hard--as a reassurance that his daftness extended only ponyward.

Cal looked momentarily hopeful when Dorian hesitated, and Jasper feared the worst. Had Cal actually found an ally in the Pinkie Pie hate campaign? Impossible-- she was so charming and glittery, there was no way Dorian could loathe her. Happily he agreed, a bit reluctantly and possibly only because he was still moderately afraid that Jasper would turn him into a goat. Cal looked thoroughly displeased that he had sided with Jasper.

He grinned at Dorian behind Cal's back as they left the shop and stepped into the frigid air of the Alley. "You've made a wise decision."

Over the whistling of sharp wind over cobbles, Cal made a last ditch campaign in favor of Flourish and Blott's, appealing to Dorian's academic sensibilities. Damn, that was a reasonably good plan. Well, until he tried to pitch lycanthropy as "interesting stuff." Jasper doubted that Dorian was "interested" so much as petrified. He suspected that reading a book on werewolves would be something like when he occasionally caught one of those really appalling medical shows on the telly in Cal's lab. "Tree Man" or whatever. Ugh.

Cal seemed to realize he'd said something a bit off, shuffling down into the collar of his coat between the two of them. Jasper wondered if he'd strategically positioned himself to stave off any attempts at the expressly forbidden "ridiculous flirting."

"Or if you want magical ice-cream... don't listen to Jasper, he's obsessed with magical plastic ponies but not everyone in the Wizarding word is that daft."

Cal prodded him in the arm, and Jasper slapped his hand away, catching it for a moment and giving Cal's cold fingers a hard squeeze.

"I'm the daft one? At least I don't want ice cream when it's bloody sub arctic outside. Although, in fairness, the Fireball one is quite hot. Also makes your tongue burn for about four days after, so take your chances."

As much as he wanted to see Apollo's latest plastequine creations, Jasper knew he should play the good host. He glanced around Cal toward Dorian, who was looking chilly and slightly concerned, possibly because he'd just seen Rudolph rattle by on an errand for Atlas and had been greeted with a chipper, "WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE" and a metatarsal to the chest.

"No worries, he belongs to my friend. He says that all the time, and I've survived." He paused; they had reached the entrance of Flourish and Blott's, and the sparkly sign for Sinistra's was just ahead. "So, up to you Dorian. Be forewarned that Cal will pitch a fit if you choose the ponies--" he gave Cal a reciprocal prod in the shoulder-- "but that could also be quite entertaining."

Dorian didn’t know what to expect from Diagon Alley. Or, rather, he thought he didn’t know what to expect. The fact that he was at first brought crashing down as they entered the alleyway amidst too friendly bantering showed he did have some sort of image. Sparks flying everywhere? Bubbling cauldrons? Maybe a dragon? But looking around, it all looked so ordinary.

Then his heart picked up again.

It looked ordinary. It was part of its charm. The cobblestones, the buildings- they reminded him of the winding streets through the High Street at Cambridge, or perhaps of the sort tucked away behind the pub of a picturesque English village. It oozed character and history. Then he started paying attention to the buildings and shop windows. Brooms, animals and sometimes their entrails, wands, robes-

Cal said something about ice cream. Dorian was far too enamoured to listen or really care. There was something about this snapshot of the Wizarding World that was both unnerving and comforting. It was the familiarity of its appearance which masked the rather exotic. It was so quaint. And really, actually, truly … not scary. Not scary at all!

That was until he saw a walking skeleton. Screaming something apocalyptic.

"No worries, he belongs to my friend. He says that all the time, and I've survived."

“You mean it- did you say he? You mean he is an everyday occurrence?” Dorian questioned. You can’t make this sh*t up. It was surreal. A talking, walking skeleton. He wasn’t even sure if it had been a real skeleton. And even if it wasn’t, how was that thing being animated? Was it a ghost? Did they have ghosts in the Wizarding World?

Fear was giving way to curiosity.

"So, up to you Dorian. Be forewarned that Cal will pitch a fit if you choose the ponies-- but that could also be quite entertaining."

He wanted to see more inanimate objects … animated. What was the extent of such magic?

“I must admit, I am curious to see the ponies,” he admitted. “But I wouldn’t want to be the source of a domestic-” It slipped out of his mouth unchecked. He shut it promptly afterwards. Tendrils of embarrassment rose from his feet and leached at the strength in his legs. He couldn’t move. He was forced to stay on the spot, under their scrutiny. The possibility that he was wrong was plaguing him, making him feel all the more embarrassed. He squirmed a bit, unnerved by the sudden silence. “Y-you are like … together, right?”

And he could always pretend it was a joke. Nonchalance and laughter would work. He could feign it. After all, how hard could it be?

Jasper leaned down and plucked the stray bone from the pavement where it had clattered to a stop after its encounter with Dorian's jacket. He brushed it off and slipped it into his pocket.

"Atlas will be wanting that back, he spends a fortune on replacements."

It took Dorian a few moments to recover from his surprise. Cal remained silent, clearly suppressing bitter comments about Atlas. Dorian glanced around the alley then turned back to Jasper.

“I must admit, I am curious to see the ponies, but I wouldn’t want to be the source of a domestic-”

He truncated the sentence and dropped his eyes. They stood in an awkward cluster in the center of the alley, the crowd branching around them. Dorian shrugged uncomfortably in his jacket. Domestic. They did seem quite-- well, Jasper could understand the assumption from what Dorian had seen. He probably thought they lived together; Cal seemed so at home in Jasper's house. In fairness, he practically did live there at this point, albeit at quite irregular hours. Dorian was blushing and Cal was looking markedly away. In an attempt to forge past the awkward moment, Jasper started to say something about the ponies, but Dorian cut him off.

“Y-you are like … together, right?”

What?

Jasper heard his voice die in his throat with a click. He was suddenly aware that his mouth was unflatteringly open. Oh, God. Cal wouldn't answer here, he would be beyond shock. Jasper, unfortunately, wasn't sure how to answer. From Dorian's point of view, no would be an obvious lie. Cal had done up his tie in front of the man, for God's sake. Dorian went to Cambridge; he wasn't so stupid that they could pass as friends.

What would Cal want him to say? He'd never pressed for secrecy like Jasper-- in fact he chafed under it. They could just admit it, he supposed. Dorian didn't know anyone else in the wizarding world, and he was unlikely to gossip to his friends about the blokes who helped him transition into lycanism. Plus they really shouldn't lie to him so obviously; he needed to trust them if they were going to be able to help him. Jasper shoved his hands into his pockets further and staunchly did not look at Cal, who was certainly blushing in a way that gave away the answer anyhow. Dorian's eyes were fluttering between them and the rest of the street uncomfortably.

"Well, casually. Sort of." He swallowed and looked over at Cal, waiting for his reaction. Better not to look at Dorian, who was probably contemplating the many downsides to being a kidnapping victim of two gay Wilde enthusiasts who had the tragic misfortune of being named Dorian. Poor kid. "When we see Apollo he'll tell you he's planning a wedding, but that's a lie. It's best to only listen to him in matters of ponies and sequins."

He took a purposeful step forward toward Apollo's shop. "Come on, if we get there early enough we can give them their morning Cadbury bars."

“I must admit, I am curious to see the ponies, but I wouldn’t want to be the source of a domestic-”

Cal would have felt worse had Dorian not looked so pathetically awkward himself. It was almost endearing, in that impatient way in which he found all things he found similar to himself endearing. Impatient but nonetheless--the fact that it wasn't himself made it--admirable. Dorian was intelligent. He looked away and blinked rapidly, leaving any possible subject change to Jasper.

“Y-you are like … together, right?”

Or not. Jasper looked surprised; taken aback, more so than Cal thought he'd seen him. Cal couldn't control his habitual blush. Jasper--par contraste--marshalled himself admirably. Admirablyish. Of course it was admirable, he was Jasper, but he was just a little too smooth--the only problem was Dorian now thought he'd been kidnapped by a pair of... of... he was really blushing now and found his lips had curled unconsciously into the nervous habit of a smile. Grimace.

"Well, casually. Sort of."

Surprising. Not totally unexpected, but--Cal glanced around the crowded street, then back at Jasper and nodded, shrugged, nodded, back to Dorian, shrugged, still caught in the rictus of a smile.

"When we see Apollo he'll tell you he's planning a wedding, but that's a lie. It's best to only listen to him in matters of ponies and sequins."

"Don't listen to him about those either, please." To Jasper: "I hate your friends." To Dorian: "I hate his friends." Cal cleared his throat and paused, Adam's apple jumping in his throat, still looking around warily. Nonchalant banter wasn't working, he felt stretched on the rack of falsity. He had the awful and uncontrollable sense that he was... he always thought the things he found taboo. Obviously they hadn't kidnapped Dorian out of some--obviously. "Look, we didn't kidnap you for some nefarious purpose. I'm not--just ask Jasper, I wouldn't--I'm sorry, Walters."

Stating the totally unnecessary again, Ferox, well done. Next you'll be on about 'although you are attractive.' Which didn't need saying; he was only thinking it because he knew it was uproariously inappropriate. Damn, damn, and damn. He gave Jasper a woebegone look and then away, as they passed a cluster of young Witches, and then, once they were past, back again.

"Well someone had to say it."

Dorian was amazed at what he had achieved in his meek little question. He had actually reduced Cal and Jasper to humans! Cal’s flustered blush matched his own and Jasper was overcompensating. They weren’t so extraordinary.

"Well, casually. Sort of."

And momentarily he felt better for knowing. It made them a lot more real. It was the sort of secret a friend would know. He was comforted by the honesty. Until he realised the possible consequences of the revelation. Dorian. Wilde. Greek love. Oh dear. Now look what he’d done. But strangely, he felt more guilty for causing such extreme discomfort in the both of them that if far outstripped his own embarrassment and anxiety.

Especially because the seemingly painful way Cal was digging the hole Dorian had pushed them into with such earnest. He was scraping the dirt from under their feet. The profusions of ‘hate’ made him feel ashamed of himself because he- just briefly- wanted to laugh. At the absurdity of seeing someone with such a self-destructive self-defence mechanism.

"Look, we didn't kidnap you for some nefarious purpose. I'm not--just ask Jasper, I wouldn't--I'm sorry, Walters."

First crippling shock, then painful, painful, painful awkwardness. One would thing being the instigator of the situation would mean being able to view it through a glass window of sorts. Apparently not. Dorian ran a hand through his hair, for something to do. He didn’t know what to do with his hand. Tapping it against his thigh probably was far too suggestive, despite it being his usual tick.

But what did strike him was Cal’s sincerity. And that dashed away the worst of it.

“Erm, that’s nice to know … Thanks Cal.”

"Well someone had to say it."

Dorian, after Cal’s suicidal continuance of the embarrassment, rallied himself into some semblance of assertiveness. “Quite. Glad you did. Can we go see the ponies now?”

Cal found he had, unconsciously, drifted closer to Jasper, seeking the silent approbation of his presence. Conscious, he drew back and looked over at their lupine kidnapee. He was blushing. Cal felt suddenly relieved, as though a great weight had been resettled from chest to his shoulders. He was still--he was still unsure as to whether that flush came from embarrassment or uneasy fear. Had he been in Dorian's position, he wasn't sure--but of course, he'd never have thought anyone would want to take advantage of him; he was, had been, revolting. Maybe Dorian took the possibility as flattery, a sense that he was normal despite his lycanthropy. Of course they'd have to let him in on the history, the treatment of werewolves in Wizarding society, Cal knew an excellent, unbiased historical view with the latest of transfiguratory perspectives on the transformation itself. R.C. Hermann.

He'd have to--

While he'd been thinking, his walk wobbling, Dorian had paused to run a hand through his hair. The gesture was at once reminiscent of Jasper (well, he was his only point of reference) and not. More tentative. Or had Dorian already picked up on a Jasperism? Everyone did. Jasperism was temptingly contagious.

“Erm, that’s nice to know … Thanks Cal.”

Now his blush, he was sure, outstripped the Muggle werewolf's. He ducked his head and shook it, slowly, from side to side. A bit condescending. What was his right? He was a werewolf. Lovely. Now he, Cal, was prejudiced--when convenient, of course, always how it was. He could see the sign for the Sinistras' shop ahead, and edged further toward the side of the cobbled street, legs half-numbed from the wind already, feet chilled through his shoes, face still very hot. He mumbled something defensive.

“Quite. Glad you did. Can we go see the ponies now?”

Cal nodded, one shoulder involved in the motion, and jerked his body--unwilling to take his hands out of his pockets to point--toward the glittering sign of the shop. "It's only just over there." He'd picked up on Jasper's enthusiasm for ponies, too. "And then we can go to the bookstore. Maybe I'll go ahead, I--I really don't get on with Apollo, or ponies; but I suppose someone's got to protect you, Walters, you'll be Bedazzled if you don't watch out." He tried a small, nervous smile, and wondered why he so very much wanted Dorian to like him, and why he found he couldn't quite look at Jasper.

"Look, we didn't kidnap you for some nefarious purpose. I'm not--just ask Jasper, I wouldn't--I'm sorry, Walters."

Pause pause pause. Dorian's eyes widened. Jasper played a quick mental game of "who to kill first" and got stuck between himself and Cal, eventually deciding on himself because this situation would be over sooner. Dorian's gaze darted between them uncomfortably.

“Erm, that’s nice to know … Thanks Cal.”

There were a few moments of awkward, shuffling small talk and then they all glanced at the glittering sign for Apollo's shop. Dorian, thankfully, had the good sense to move them forward and Cal apparently felt so uncomfortable that he was willing to subject himself to My Little Ponies. Well, he was still going on about the bookstore, actually, but at least he wasn't professing his burning, undying hatred for the superior Sinistra. Jasper supposed things really were entirely relative.

"And then we can go to the bookstore. Maybe I'll go ahead, I--I really don't get on with Apollo, or ponies; but I suppose someone's got to protect you, Walters, you'll be Bedazzled if you don't watch out."

Jasper rolled his eyes at Cal theatrically before turning to Dorian, who had reverted to a milder version of the look of consternation he'd given Rudolph. Cal really wasn't doing a good job convincing him that the Wizarding world wasn't terrifying. Plus, his fear of Apollo was entirely unfounded. He was lovely, aside from his propensity for wedding planning. And that shouldn't be a point of concern for Dorian, unless he also had a semi-secret mad scientist boyfriend, and Jasper suspected that being a werewolf pretty much filled his quota for unlikely traits. In his peripheral vision, he caught Cal attempting to veer toward Flourish and Blott's and reached behind Dorian to grab him by the sleeve, pulling him back toward Sinistra's.

"C'mon Ferox, be a good host. He's exaggerating anyhow, Dorian. Apollo only bedazzles you if you ask. I mean-- don't ask, though. You'll be sorry. But the ponies are ace. You didn't see Pinkie Pie, did you? She's the original.

They crossed the Alley and arrived at Apollo's Day-Glo door, entering to the merry sound of the NME's top club song of the week. Clever bit of charms, that. Cal flinched and Dorian looked a bit bewildered. Jasper was glad to see Apollo behind the counter, resplendent in some sort of sequin-mirrorball-ostrich feather confection. He was casting spells on a neon purple parakeet in a cage, and it was chirping what seemed to be a rendition of "As Above So Below."

"Cheers mate, this is Dorian. We're here to see the ponies." He looked at Apollo sharply. "And no, I don't want to talk about the wedding hors d'oeuvres menus you owled me last week."

One would have thought that by now Artemis would have learned not to leave her dearly beloved brother alone in the shop on slow days. Even if she was a mere floor above him one would think she might have learned that Apollo's more creative yet less rational moments often occurred at such times.

Approximately one hour ago he had accepted payment for a set of go-go boots in the form of a perfectly ordinary parakeet. Few would have seen the marketing potential for the bird, and to be frank neither did Apollo, that was till it wouldn't stop squawking every time he stepped near. Apparently the bird had taken an immediate dislike to the reflection it was seeing in his classic mirror-ball suit (revamped a bit). Since there were no other customers in the store and he was rather bored...

Thus the birth of a new and musically gifted form of parakeet - with a boosted self confidence as well.

Apollo was in the process of giving its wings decals and coming up with an appropriate name when his door's singing ruined his concentration. A quick glance told him that none other than his dearly beloved friend Jasper and his other less dearly beloved friend Cal where entering and... while not a beautiful woman for him he was certainly an attractive male.

"Cheers mate, this is Dorian. We're here to see the ponies."

"They would love to see you lot! Rainbow Dash, Toola-Roola, Cheerilee, Sweetie Belle and Starsong all want to hear more about their big sister." He turned to the attractive fellow. "Wait till you see them! And best yet, all of you can help me feed them! Follow me." Apollo lead the way to the front window falling into step next to Jasper.

"Now about those - "

"And no, I don't want to talk about the wedding hors d'oeuvres menus you owled me last week."

The hors d'oeuvres menu had been a brilliant cross of pop tarts and champagne, quite possibly the result of a stubborn case of writer's block. "I will get my wedding one day." He remarked, a determined look briefly crossing his face before being lost in the general glow of happiness that seemed to radiate off of Apollo whenever he got near his darling ponies.

"Girls look you have visitors!"

He’d never been in shop like it, which was understandable. Even so, it completely blew away all expectations. It was far more eccentric and weird than he could have ever envisaged even with the heavy aid of alcoholic beverages. A form seemingly made entirely of light he later discerned to be a man. And he was poking a bright purple bird with his magic stick. Did Wizard’s not have animal rights?

"Cheers mate, this is Dorian. We're here to see the ponies."

Dorian raised a hand and waved sheepishly at his introduction. Obviously Cal was no longer the extreme on his eccentricity scale. He shoved his hands back in the pockets of his Jasper’s coat and tried not to stare around the shop too much. Although he was drawn to a pair of bright pink furry mufflers, which were just silly enough to tempt him to buy them until he realised he had no money.

"Wait till you see them! And best yet, all of you can help me feed them! Follow me."

Considering the earlier display with the bird, Dorian wasn’t sure whether he wanted to see the ponies anymore. Animal protection? He already had a display of some sort of violation in his head. They weaved their way through the sparkly chaos and feathers of the shop. He nearly got entangled by a rainbow feather boa that changed colour as it moved. After that wrestle, they neared the shop window when he saw-

"Girls look you have visitors!"

When they said ponies, he was thinking of the nice fluffy cute variety. Ones that looked huggable. He wasn’t expecting them to be plastic. Which was very disconcerting. It’s dead behind the eyes! At least he thought they were plastic given the curious sheen and mould line. Yet there was no way it could really be plastic. That doesn’t work!

“That’s quite-” nice word, nice word “-extraordinary. Are they really alive?” he asked.

One of them wandered up to him with a blue body and a rainbow mane. Curiosity overtook him once again and he stretched out a hand cautiously. It was sniffed, which sent warm air across his skin. How very strange. Of course, when he did dare to touch it, he recoiled suddenly, succeeding in knocking a leopard skin fedora from a nearby manikin. It really is plastic.

He attempted to catch the falling hat, fumbled, and then eventually close his fingers around the rim. “Sorry!” It had taken him quite by surprise. But now the ponies were a source of disturbing intrigue. “Really … how does it work? Did you say they feed? How do they eat? They’re plastic.”

"Exactly my point."

Cal stood back, arms crossed over his chest in a way that tried to look smug but probably only half-passed for half-past fey fastidiousness, which, in point of fact, he was. Cal had realized, slowly and with some reluctance, that he really did fit several recognizably 'gay' categories. Oddly the revelation, however overdue and sideways, did not upset him. To the contrary, in fact, a point he'd think about--later.

Dorian next displayed endearing clumsiness, knocking a fedora from its stand, and Cal straightened his back--which tended to settle in a scoliotic curve to the right when he didn't mind it--and stuck his elbows hard in at his sides. Dorian was like Cal Version New and Improved. It wasn't quite fair. But he did like him; he liked him for the same reasons he was jealous, as always.

"They are creepy little creatures," he added, sniffing and moving a little closer to Jasper, so one of his elbows jabbed him in the side. Let Sinistra comment. "Shoddy in their indeterminacy of category, I've always thought, but" shrug "they--oh--I don't know."

He hid behind Jasper's shoulder and ducked his head, quite aware that he was prevaricating to try to impress and hating himself for it.

After Dorian managed to fight his way free from every accessory in Apollo's shop, they reached the My Little Pony display. Jasper was secretly glad that Artemis wasn't present for this. She'd have all sorts of practical things to say about "breach of secrecy" and "not kidnapping Muggles" and "keeping my brother out of your plans, Christie." He had yet to hear from Apollo how she felt about the ponies, but perhaps she hadn't noticed, being quite busy with her rather...unique romantic life.

Apollo had bounded over to the herd of ponies enthusiastically, and Jasper followed. His friend had expanded the herd somewhat since Pinkie; he'd been considering getting her a friend for a while, although he had some concerns about the fact that Cal's head might actually explode from rage if he brought another one home. But a green glitter one would complement her so well.

Dorian had stopped in front of the ponies, keeping a cautious distance back at first. He didn't seem to share Jasper and Apollo's immediate enthusiasm for them, but in general he seemed a bit uncertain about magic. Jasper supposed this was fair; his exposure so far had consisted of werewolves, kidnappers, and a passive aggressive skeleton. Dorian stared down at the ponies with some concern. Cal was out of sight. Jasper suspected he was behind them, possibly plotting the most effective way to destroy all the ponies in one go.

“That’s quite-” Dorian paused uncertainly. “-extraordinary. Are they really alive?”

He put a hand out toward one, then flailed back when it came too close, victimizing another hat. The pony looked up at him in disappointment, giant eyes sparkling but not blinking. Jasper dug through his pocket and extracted the candy he habitually kept there for Pinkie. Sour Patch Kids today. He selected a red one and offered it to the pony, who snuffled it up eagerly. He patted her glitter mane. So splendid. How could Cal hate them? A violently purple pony trotted up and he offered it a lemon candy.

“Really … how does it work? Did you say they feed? How do they eat? They’re plastic.”

Possibly picking up on Cal's complete loathing, Dorian seemed less enthused than Jasper had hoped. Clearly he just wasn't seeing the possibilities of the ponies. Cal shuffled up next to him finally.

"They are creepy little creatures." He dug an elbow into Jasper's side, and Jasper reached down and pinched his wrist in retaliation. Hopefully Apollo and Dorian were distracted by the ponies. "Shoddy in their indeterminacy of category, I've always thought, but" shrug "they--oh--I don't know."

Jasper shot him a look, then rolled his eyes at Dorian. "Cal just dislikes them because he wishes he was so sparkly." He looked over at Apollo, who was busily digging out some strawberry bootlaces from a bag decorated with what may or may not have been live squirrels. "They're alive, technically. Apollo can explain better than I can. I...try not to think about it. C'mere--" He tugged Dorian gently forward by the sleeve-- "they're really friendly, they go mad for candy." He offered Walters a handful of Sour Patch Kids. "Just hold them out. They haven't got teeth, so they can't bite."

He demonstrated, then turned to Cal with a bright smile. "C'mon Cal, have a go. You know how much you love feeding Pinkie."

"Are they really alive? Really … how does it work? Did you say they feed? How do they eat? They’re plastic.”

Everyone loved ponies... and everyone loved to ask about their creation. Really it was almost as if the two loves overlapped each other to form one universal reaction. Questions thus far about his children had ranged from the mundane, such as are they really alive to the absurd, such as how long does it take them to learn a tap dancing routine? While Apollo had answers to all these important questions he was always a bit hesitant to give them out. Their birth - the product of boredom and the need to get a birthday present for someone who had everything - was a bit well unorthodox by most standards.

Well really it was their creator that caused the whole thing to be unorthodox. So many people had come to assume that Artemis had gotten all the brains in the family and Apollo the creativity that they failed to remember that the younger twin, while unable to take tests and the like, really was rather talented with magic... or rather, just talented in creating new uses for it. Instead of giving the long anticipated answer however Apollo let Jasper take control as he began to dig out their feed. His girls did love the smell of strawberries.

"They're alive, technically. Apollo can explain better than I can. I...try not to think about it. C'mere-- hey're really friendly, they go mad for candy. Just hold them out. They haven't got teeth, so they can't bite."

Apollo looked up from braiding the yellow one's hair. "Jasper got that sort of right, they are made up of some organic compounds and Gran's strawberry jam..." Apollo trailed off, really how he came to animate the ponies was of no matter and Cal was giving him this rather unique look. No they probably didn't want to hear about Gran's strawberry jam making phase... and how well it stuck to the interior of plastic ponies. "Its no matter really. Simple enchantments. All Love and Glitter as I like to say!"

All the ponies on cue neighed in agreement with the words 'Love and Glitter'. Apollo felt as though they really were the most adorable creatures he had ever created, and so easy to train to boot! " They don't have to eat, I can take off the enchantment. Its the smell of strawberries and sugar they really like. Have you taken him to Daphne's shop yet? You have to bring a pony with you if you go - they have genius reactions! "