Okay… happy Hearth's Warming Eve, everypony! I decided to write a Hearth's Warming Eve story on Christmas Eve Day. Anywho, I LOVE Babs Seed; she's one of my favorite ponies. This story features my OC, Thespian Moon. She's a Pegasus whose special talent is acting. :) ANYwho: just wanted to say there are spoilers here for Of Actresses and Sorrow, but not really. This story is basically about two lonely ponies that comfort each other on a night for friendship and love.

By the way, I'm not British. The reason that I spell "Theatre" the way I do is because a "Theater" is a place where you go see movies. A "Theatre" is a place where plays happen.

Also… sorry about the accent! I'm not too good at the Bronx accent, and in sounds more like a Maine accent. .'

Anywho, enjoy!

-Novi

XXX

The life of an actress is a lonely one. It's only made worse that my husband is on a Broadwhinny tour until the New Year. Ballad Bard is a busy stallion…. All of my friends: Stunning Stitch, Stage Crew, Solo Song, all of the others… they're busy celebrating Hearth's Warming Eve with their families. Gingerbread and Solo invited me over to their house, but they have their foals.

I sigh, opening my feathery white wings in defeat. There's a cutie mark on my flank, like all adult ponies. It's two masks, one bewailing and the other rejoicing with laughter. The words "Drama Club" float around. When I got it in seventh grade, I couldn't have been happier.

But… why do I feel so sad?

Suddenly, there's a soft knock at my apartment door. This is a bit of an oddity in Manehattan. I trot nervously over to the door, the fact that I'm an unprotected female flashing through my mind. I fly up to the fish-eye lens and peer out of it. There's a small muddy-colored filly outside of my door. She looks nervous and continuously blows her strawberry-colored mane out of her eyes. She has a stained green saddlebag hanging limply off of her back. Knowing she can't do much harm, I open my door. "Hi," I say as warmly as I can.

The filly looks up at me with hopeful green eyes. She risks a small smile and asks, "Does Thespian Moon live he-uh?"

Under her heavy Manehattan accent, I can decipher if she asked, well, me, if I lived here. I nod with a grin. "Yeah, filly. I'm Thespian Moon."

Her eyes light up with recognition. I assume she's a fan asking for an autograph until she says, "My muhthuh talked to ya about a month ago 'bout takin' care 'a me on Hearth's Warmin'. Uhm… can I come in?"

Suddenly, I remember. A dark brown Earth pony with a red mane had come to my door about a month ago, apologizing about not knowing me well-enough and then asking me if I could take care of her daughter for a night. I'd said sure, distracted by cramming for my newest play. She'd thanked me a bunch, saying I seemed like the most respectable mare in the building. I'd laughed and given her an autograph, which she seemed confused by. I'd just assumed she wasn't into theatre and didn't know who I was.

But now, here was the daughter. She looks a little confused, a little nervous, and a lot lonely.

"C'mon in," I say with a smile. "I'm Thespian Moon, but call me Thespie."

"I'm Babs Seed," she says in her heavy accent. "But most ponies call me Babs."

"So you come from the Seed Family?" I question, sounding like a fool. Of course she does! The same way I come from the Starlet-Performer family. I'm just filling up the air with useless words. We trot into the living room, and Babs gasps.

"My family don't have nuhtin' this nice!" she exclaims, looking around. My living room isn't much, just your basic couch, a flat-screen, some chairs, and a coffee table. There's also a big fire roaring the grate in honor Hearth's Warming. Babs takes it all in. She then asks where she can put her saddle bag.

I panic for a brief moment. She'll need to put her bag where she's gonna sleep. Oh, crap! WHERE WILL SHE SLEEP?!

"Thespie?" the little Bronx-accented filly questions. "Didja he-uh me?"

I nod. "Sorry. Uhm… just set them on the couch," I say, figuring that we'll figure out the sleeping arrangements later. Babs jumps up on the couch, laying her head on her hooves.

"Thanks fuh takin' care 'a me," she says softly. "My muhthuh's outta town with my sis. They're goin' tuh visit my pop in jail fuh Hearth's Warmin'."

"Your father is in jail?" I blurt before I can't stop myself. I clap my wings over my mouth and flush. "I'm sorry. That was rude of me."

Babs shrugs. "Didn't know muh pop. He's been in the clanker a while." She rolls over on my couch, sticking all four of her hooves in the air. "How's it feel to be a Pegasus, Thespie?" she asks me, wiggling her hooves.

"Wonderful," I sigh. "I don't have much time to fly if it's not for plays, but it sure comes in handy. I think that's why I was born a Pegasus. Most directors choose them."

Babs stops wiggling her hooves in the air and turns to look at me, a puzzled look crossing her face. She contemplates this. "Why?"

"Well, unicorns are generally great at acting, but they're more needed for costuming and stage help. No other ponies are better at it. It's because unicorns have a natural talent for stitch work, and their magic helps them. Needles are extremely hard to work with. And the stage help is because of their magic as well. They can lift giant sets and not break a sweat, or even have to move, all because they have a horn."

"What about thuh Earth ponies?" Babs asks. "If the Pegasi ah busy actin', and the unicorns ah busy helpin' and stitchin', then what do we do?" She looks deeply perturbed.

"Well, the Earth ponies have their place," I say. "They usually help with set design. No ponies are connected to the land that ponies, so they have a deep connection with the world around them. The animals, the plants… you name it." I shrug. "We need nature paintings more than anything. Guess who does it?"

"The Earth ponies!" Babs squeals excitedly. "So… lemme git this straight: The Pegasi ah the actuhs, the Earth ponies ah the paintuhs, and the unicorns ah the costumists and stage crew." I nod, and she bounces excitedly. "I could be a paintuh!" she realizes. Then that perturbed look crosses her face again. "But what if I wanted tuh be an actress?"

"Then you can be," I say simply, sadly acknowledging that the change of a pony like Babs Seed becoming an actress is very slim. One, she was an Earth pony. Two, she was very likely to disappear in a crowd. It wasn't her fault, but her pelt's color worked against her. Her mane and eyes were perfect, but it was that pelt! Directors went for brightly colored ponies: Blue, white, pink, yellow… you name a bright color, and I'd seen them on the stage. They also wanted somber colored ponies for their serious plays and tragedies: Black, gray, dark blue…. But not a muddy-looking brown.

I sigh.

"Thespie?"

"Yeah?" I say glumly.

"Uhm… when didja get yuh cutie mark?" Babs asks, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. I look to her blank flank, where she quickly whips her bobbed tail over the spot where her cutie mark should be. "Just wonderin'," she mumbled.

I regale her with the tale of my seventh grade frustration, and chuckle at it. Eventually, she wants to know all about my previous life. How my parents – Starlet and Performer – met, how I made friends with a sweet colt named Gingerbread in kindergarten, and then the next day surly, brave Hopscotch and timid Glittering Flame, how I handled my enemies, all the plays I was in…. I found that I had great fun telling Babs about my childhood. "…And that's how Solo Song became my best friend," I said, finishing one of my chapters.

Babs grins. "That's awesome!" she cries, throwing her hooves in the air and then leaping from the couch to my back. She hugs me around the neck and blows her strawberry-colored mane out of her eyes. "What about her bruhthuh?" she asks. "Ballad Bard? The cute stallion?"

I chuckle and walk with her on my back over to the fire and add a few logs. "Well, he asked me out. I flipped, of course." I tell her the story, and she giggles. "How'd you like to go for a Hearth's Warming Eve flight?" I tell her.

She buries her hooves in my short, sea-foam mane and tugs. "I'd love it!"

I trot outside to my balcony and open my wings. "Hold on tight, Babs," I caution, and flap into the night sky. The cold breeze ruffles my mane as we glide through the air. The stars are twinkling and dancing, and the moon shines brightly.

"This is amazin'!" Babs breathes.

I go a little faster, speeding into the sky. I point my hooves and break through the downy clouds, and Babs squeals with delight. "You ever heard of Rainbow Dash?" I ask. "The Sonic Rainboom?"

She nods. "Yeah. She's a friend 'a my favorite cousin's big sis."

"I can't do that, but I can sure go fast." With that, I snap my wings closed and we plummet down towards the Earth. Babs screams with excitement and I aim for my open balcony door. We shoot through it and in one fell swoop, I kick my door closed, drop Babs on the couch, and add a log to the fire.

Babs kicks up her hooves in excitement. "That was awesome!" she cries, laying her ears back. Her cheeks balloon out with a yawn.

With a smile, I pick up her saddlebag in my teeth and hang it up in my closet. I curl up on the couch with a yawn. "Happy Hearth's Warming, Babs," I say with a smile.

She curls into my side. "Happy Hearth's Warmin' Eve, Thespie," she says quietly, and is asleep before I can move her to the guest room. And even though all my friends were busy with their own families, even though my husband is miles away, even though Babs's family is gone and her father in jail, and even though we don't have gifts for each other: This is the best Hearth's Warming Eve I've ever had.