>BEEP BEEP BEEP
>You're still getting used to Rarity's little quirks.
>You wouldn't think it if talked to her for almost any length of time, but Rarity has a mischievous streak a mile wide.
>For all the time you'd spent with her, it took you almost three entire months to figure out that you had been getting angry at Sweetie Belle for no reason.
>You had to pretend to be Sweetie's coltfriend for a school event to make it up to her.
>According to her and the rest of the crusaders, you'd made a filly named "Diamond Tiara" VERY jealous that day.
>Case in point: the kettle.
>Rarity made it so that instead of whistling at you, it beeped loudly.
>That little trick was what convinced her to let you "in the know", so to speak.
>The first time she sprung it on you, you'd knocked over the kettle in shock and managed to get a bunch of minor burns all over your hands.
>Rarity felt TERRIBLE about it and insisted that she took care of you.
>Part of you honestly wanted to believe that she was doing it because she wanted to maintain her "gentlemare" imagery.
>A much bigger part of you; the one that had spent months and months becoming one of Rarity's closest friends, knew better.
>But back to the present.
>The milk's been heated up to the perfect temperature for hot chocolate, and you waste no time bringing it into the adjacent room.
>Rarity was sitting, shivering under a heavy blanket.
>Winter had hit hard this year.
>Lucky for your friend, you were bigger and warmer than she was.
>More importantly, you had a much smaller surface area to volume ratio, meaning that you would freeze to death much slower than they would.
>With that morbid thought set aside, you sit on the couch and hand Rarity her steaming mug of chocolate.

>"Th-th-thank you, d-darling," she forces out, teeth chattering and forehooves shaking, "Y-you know j-j-just what I l-like."
>The fireplace has only been lit for a few minutes, meaning that it's still freezing in here.
>You know what to do.
>You've ALWAYS known what to do.
"Say, Rarity?"
>Muzzle deep in her mug, she turns her head to look at you.
"You wanna..." you pat your thigh enticingly, "...hop up?"
>"A-and sit on a c-colt?"
>Rarity looks aghast at such a suggestion.
>"P-PLEASE, Anonymous. I'm a m-m-mare. W-worry about yourself, darling."
>She looks down at her thick blanket and then looks back up to you.
>Conflict is clear in her eyes.
>"In fact, why don't YOU t-take the blanket, d-dear? I'll be f-f-fine."
>She tries for a suave expression, but it just comes off looking oily and insincere.
>Reluctantly, Rarity magically parts with her most immediate source of heat and levitates it to drape over your shoulders.
>She's left a shivering mess.
>Oh, the mare ego.
>Rarity is a silly pony.
>For all her talk of "gentlemare" this, and "muh sandy trees" that, she's never actually been with a colt before.
>She tries so hard to hide that little detail from her friends, but you were a big enough loser back on Earth to recognize the signs yourself.
>With a sigh, you grip Rarity under her armpits and heft her up into the air.
>Sure, she shouts protests NOW, but she'll thank you in just a moment.
>You bring your feet up off of the floor and cross your legs where you sit, and deposit your small cargo directly onto your new lap-nest.
>Once Rarity is securely in place (read: held down with one hand so that she doesn't hop off of your lap), you take the thick blanket and cover yourself and Rarity with it, pulling it up your chest until just her head is poking out of her high thread-count prison.

>"R-really, Anonymous! Was that necessary? Oh, what would the mares think if they saw me now? Too pathetic to take care of herself, relying on her coltfriend to tend to her needs!"
>She presses her back into your chest with the excuse of pretending to faint.
>She's so warm and soft.
>For all her protests, Rarity makes no real effort to get off of you. In fact, she....
>.....
>....wait, coltfriend?
"Coltfriend, eh?"
>The little white muffin in your lap tenses up, and you can fell her heartbeat quicken.
>"W-well, Anonymous.... I... Oh, dear."
>You respond by hugging her from behind and nuzzling her purple mane.
"Tell me more about this 'coltfriend' of yours, Rares. What's he like?"
>"He... he, uh..."
"I'll bet he's nice and warm. If he's going to be tending to you, he needs to function properly as a pillow; wouldn't you think?"
>"I... suppose so, dear," replies Rarity, quickly regaining her composure, "Warm and soft and perfect for cuddling into."
>Like a cat, Rarity lifts her head to accept and return your persistent nuzzles.
"Mmmm. I'll bet he wouldn't mind keeping you warm."
>"No?"
>She grips your arms with her forehooves, holding you possessively against her barrel.
"Not even a little bit."
>"I-I would certainly HOPE not, dear. Cuddling is what special someponies do frequently, right?"
>The "right" sounded quite unsure, so you gently squeeze her.
"Every chance he'd get."
>You are Anon, and that's about as close to an ending as you're going to get being as sleep deprived as I am.