Adventures in Homeownership with Sunny Skies and Dusky Sparks

by Honey Mead

Rating: teen
Tags: Random, Princess Celestia, Slice of Life, Alternate Universe, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Romance, Sex
Length: 8232

Twilight and Celestia decide to take a break from ruling Equestria to live for a few decades as average everyday ponies.

A few years after Twilight and Celestia's marriage, they begin to worry that their obligations to the job are interfering with their obligations to each other. So they decide to take a break. A few spells and perfectly legal papers later, and they are ready to start their lives as Sunny Skies and Dusky Sparks, just your average, everyday, married couple living and working in a suburb of Manehatten.

(Non chronological story, with many chapters based on prompts for the Twilestia Group Collab.)

Rated T for Tantalizing.

Published 2014-09-09 07:00:03 UTC
Last updated 2015-03-03 21:02:35 UTC

The Beginning

Adventures in Homeownership with Sunny Skies and Dusky Sparks: The Beginning

Celestia and Twilight gazed into each other's eyes, and the world fell away.

Or it would have if Luna hadn’t cleared her throat and whispered, “Psst, that was your cue, sister.”

Celestia blushed, and the smile she’d worn for the past month, already far larger than even she realized, grew.

“I do.”

— — — Five years later — — —

“All I’m saying is that it would be nice to take a break for a few years.”

Celestia’s office was one of the most spartan rooms in the palace. More a nook than a room, if truth be told, it was scarcely large enough for herself and her desk. Thus, the presence of one, Princess Twilight Sparkle did not do the space any favors.

“I agree,” Celestia said, not even glancing up as her quill scratched across a scroll, “but—”

“No buts!” Twilight all but growled. “We need this. Three months! It’s been three months since we spent more than an hour together that wasn’t either sleeping or some function or another.” Celestia tried to butt in, but Twilight wasn’t having it. “Tia, You are the greatest princess Equestria could hope for. Without everything you’ve done, I don’t even want to think about where we would be.”

“Thank you, love.”

“But, it won’t all fall apart if you step aside a little while.” Twilight did her best to say the words softly and with as much love as she could, but that did not keep them from stinging her wife. “It is not because you are unnecessary, but because you have done such a wonderful job,” she continued, nearly pleading for the words to be heard in the spirit they were said. “Equestria’s government is so stable you could probably leave for three or four generations and it would still keep chugging along, but only because of how well you’ve tended it. Besides, Luna is perfectly capable of running the country while you and I spend a few years, you know, as a couple. Just you and me. No servants. No advisors. No politics. Just us.”

“Just us?” Celestia asked, finally meeting her wife’s eye with an almost predatory glint. “So, No studying then? No experiments? No three days without sleeping just to—”

“Alright. Alright. You made your point. And…” the hesitation was small, but Celestia caught it, she always caught it, “Yes, I can agree to that… to a point. I can still read journals. And you can still follow events, even correspond with and help Luna, to a point. All I’m asking for is a decade or two, living like normal ponies, with normal lives. We’ll get regular jobs. You can teach foals, I know how much you’ve missed that. And I can… I can be local administrator… or something, I haven’t worked that bit out yet. And we can live calm average lives, away from all of…” she motioned to Celestia’s desk, “this. Please.”

Celestia stared into those pleading, violet eyes. She sighed, defeated. Not that she ever stood a chance. In the end, she knew that Twilight was right. They hadn’t spent nearly enough time together and if there was one pony who deserved her attention, it was Twilight Sparkle. That didn’t make it easier, just inevitable. Still, she wasn’t one to go out without a fight. “On one condition.”

Twilight’s wings shot-out in excitement. “Of course, anything.”

“You will never, ever,” she paused, then decided to add one more, “ever, go anywhere near my kitchen.”

— — — Three months later — — —

Dusky Sparks glanced at the white coated, pink maned pegasus mare beside her before facing forward again. “Well, Cel—Sunny, this is it. What do you think?”

Sunny Skies didn’t respond right away, all of her attention focused on the building in front of them.

It was not a cottage, it was the idea of a cottage made physical. No real cottage ever constructed was that exactingly perfect. From the white walls cross-hatched by sepia beams to the thatched roof with a brickwork chimney that appeared to be attached as an after-thought—though it most certainly was not—it screamed ‘I am a Cottage!’. If a foal were asked to draw a picture of a cottage, this was the house they would draw, right down to the paving stones that wound their way from the gate to the door instead of making a straight, sensible line.

Celestia shook off her disquiet, deciding that had more to do with her misgivings about the entire situation than the house itself. “It looks… nice.”

“Nice?”

“Yes… nice.”

“Nice as in exact, or nice as in adequate?” Sunny gave her a look that said more than words ever could. “You know, if you don’t like it, you can just say so.”

There were a great many things that Sunny could have said, but being an intelligent mare who loved her wife, she ignored them and instead said, “It will be fine.”

“Fine as in—”

“Twili—”

“Dusky.”

“Sparky.” Dusky Sparks huffed adorably and Sunny smiled at the tiny victory. “If you are going to cite synonyms for all my adjectives, we are going to be out here all day.”

“Fine.”

“Fine as in fare, or fine as in exact?”

Dusky Sparks glared at her wife. Grumbling to herself about wisecracking pegasi, she levitated her luggage in her field and pushed through the barrel high gate that separated their property from the street.

Sunny sighed as she trailed after ‘Sparky’. As funny as it had seemed at the time, she was already regretting the petty snipe. Then again, make up sex was always fun, so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

She’d made it halfway across the lawn before realizing that her own luggage was not, in fact, floating beside her in a golden aura. Her wings ruffled at her sides and she sighed again. That particular inconvenience was going to take some getting used to.

We Need to Talk

Adventures in Homeownership with Sunny Skies and Dusky Sparks: We Need To Talk

Dearest Sister,

How are things in Canterlot? I trust that the ladies and lords are not causing you too much trouble.

I meant to mention this before we left, but things were so hectic that it slipped my mind. Lord Cinnabar is not to be allowed in the archives under any circumstances. The guards already know this, but I fear they will not impose if you are at his side. I know that it seems silly, but trust me, it’s for the best.

I know you and Kibitz don’t exactly see eye to eye on things, but do try to be patient with him. He’s been invaluable to me for years and I know that he will be no less useful to you. Promise me you’ll hear him out.

Things out here are different.

As much as I always wanted out little ponies to treat me as something less than an avatar of perfection, it will be some time before I am accustomed to them not bowing everytime I enter a room. Not that I miss it, of course. That is the least of it, however. It has been so very long since I had to look up to somepony. For those first few days I swear I was talking at everyponies’ hooves. Once Twil Dusky—you have no idea how many times both of us have nearly messed that up—noticed, she suggested that I try to stay airborne more often. Though that has helped, it gets tiring after a while. I suppose I shall have to buck up and get used to it. The things we do for love.

Dusky is still looking for a job. As it turns out, though she is no less skilled than before, there aren’t terribly many low-key positions to which she is inclined. The town already has a librarian who is, I must say, rather abrasive. There are no more openings in at the school, none that she’d be able to teach.

That brings me to the reason for this letter. We seem to have underestimated our expense. As loath as I am to ask, would it be too much trouble to wire us a few bits to hold us over until we get our finances straight?

Sincerly,

Princess Sunny Skies

P.S.

If Philomina is giving you any trouble, you tell her that just because I am not home now, doesn’t mean that I can’t pop in at any time.

Dearest Sunny Skies,

It is a very different city without you. It is… hard to pin down what it is. I cannot say that it is good or bad, simply that it is there. We all miss you already sister, and it will be a long few years for us. Never the less, I believe that Twilight—even I’m doing it—Lady Sparks was correct, all of us will benefit from your time away.

The ‘nobles’, as they insist on being referred to, are no trouble at all, though I doubt they would say the same thing of me. You’ve coddled them far too much and for too long, and I refuse to do so. Many are already showing vast improvements, and I believe you will be best pleased when you visit next.

I did, in point of fact, accompany Lord Cinnabar to the archives recently, the day after you left now that I think on it. He seemed harmless enough. As chance has it, I did not leave his side until we both left. Pray tell, what cause is there to deny him access?

Kibitz is an old crusty mule, but I perceive his usefulness. I doubt that an evening will go by that we do not cross horns on some issue or another, but fear not that I shall ignore his words because we fail to agree. I will remind you that you and I are rarely in alignment on many topics, yet I always heed your council.

Ha! Your words were always more modest than your heart Tia! This shall be a truly humbling experience for thee !

Do not fret about the funds. I shall have them sent forthwith.

Sincerly,

Princess Luna

P.S. Your demon bird and I have reached an understanding.

P.P.S. If you are wondering why I sent this with the regular post, it is because I wanted to make sure the funds had time to arrive first. Your addiction is appalling and I will not be a party to it any longer. Love you, sis!

Sunny Skies froze halfway in the door, Luna's letter slipping out of her primaries to reveal the dark violet face of her wife. A sizable pouch of bits hung in the air beside her, a little, folded card dangling from the cinch-cord with the words ‘Pastry Fund’ just visible. Sunny tried to force a smile.

She failed.

“I think we need to talk.”

Smexyfuntimes

Adventures in Homeownership with Sunny Skies and Dusky Sparks: Smexyfuntimes

“I can explain that.”

“Oh, I think I understand perfectly.” Glancing at the small purse and attached card, Dusky added, “I am very disappointed in you, Sunny." She paused. "You’ve been a very bad filly, haven’t you?”

Sunny’s eyes sparked briefly before she dropped her gaze to Dusky’s hooves. The heat of embarrassment was replaced by a flush of excitement as her heart rate nearly doubled. Despite herself, her eyes kept edging upwards, hoping to glimpse her wife’s expression, only to be forced back down. “I’m sorry! I’ll never do it again.”

“Ah ah ah. You didn’t answer my question.”

Sunny’s blush deepened as she lowered her head so that, if she was going to look at Dusky's eyes, it was from a low angle. There was a light behind those violet eyes, a weak ember of disappointment, yes, but that was almost unnoticeable beside the inferno that burned beside it. Her voice was weak, barely audible, “Yes, I’ve been a bad filly.”

“And what do we do with bad fillies?”

Looking away again, Sunny mumbled, “They are punished.”

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“They are punished,” she repeated a little louder.

“That’s right. They are—” the door slammed shut, smacking Sunny’s flanks and making her stumble the rest of the way inside to land prone at Dusky’s hooves, “—punished.”

— — One minute, fifty-six point seven five seconds later — —

Knock Knock Knock

“I wonder who that could be?”

“But—”

“Ah ah ah. Good fillies only speak when spoken to, and if you want to get back on my good side, you’re going to have to be a very good filly. You stay right there while I go see who it is.”

Sunny bit her lip to keep her frustrations under wraps. She could only listen as her wife’s hooves clopped down the hall to the front door. Muffled voices trekked back to her through the walls for a few seconds. Once they stopped, she could hear Dusky’s hooves making the return trip.

Her breaths sped up in anticipation.

“The neighbors have invited us over for dinner," Dusky began sweetly, "isn't that nice of them?”

— — One hour, fourteen minutes, twenty seconds later and a large meal later— —

Sunny and Dusky waved a final goodnight to their neighbor before closing the front door. Rubbing her stuffed tummy, Sunny started to wander toward the living room couch, fully intent on laying down and remaining there until it was time to go to school in the morning.

“And where do you think you’re going, Missy?”

Sunny cowered down, glancing over her withers to see an annoyed Dusky glaring back. “I was…”

“You thought I’d forgotten—”

“No! I—” Sunny bit her tongue, but it was too late.

“And now you’re interrupting me? Bedroom. Now!”

Sunny scampered down the hallway.

— — Three minutes later — —

Knock Knock Knock

It was a difficult thing, combining a whimper, a sigh, a groan, and a curse and forcing them out around a bit and bridle… but Sunny managed it.

Dusky patted Sunny lovingly on the rump. “I’ll just go see who it is and send them away.”

Once again, Sunny was forced to listen as Dusky trotted down the hall to the door.

“Oh,” Dusky called out loud enough that Sunny could hear her, “Mr. Redink, what a pleasant surprise.”

Sunny jumped out of bed as quick as she could, fighting against the harness that restrained most of her limbs. Curses unspoken for generations fell in droves as the infernal thing refused to come off.

“What do you mean Sunny forgot to sign a few of the forms?” Dusky asked through obviously gritted teeth. “That doesn’t sound like my Sunny at all.”

— — Thirty-four minutes, twenty signatures, and two wardrobe changes later — —

Knock Knock Knock

Sunny nearly cried.

— — fifteen minutes and eight boxes of Filly Scout cookies later — —

Knock Knock Knock

“That is it!” Celestia roared, inadvertently throwing a startled Dusky Sparks across the room as she suddenly took up significantly more space than she had a moment before. Golden magic threw the tattered remains of her harness into the open closet. Shaking her head, unused to the ever flowing locks, she started stomping toward the door and the poor, unfortunate pony on the other side. She made it halfway there before a sharp tug on her tail caused her to stop and look back.

Dusky stared up at her in a way that still managed to make it seem like she was looking down at her. “No, Tia.”

Celestia would have turned around, but the she was far too big in a hallway that was far too small. “But—”

“No.”

“Every time—”

“I know.”

“I just want—”

“So do I.” Dusky nuzzled the back of Celestia’s leg, planting a tender kiss on the sun. “So do I.”

Knock Knock Knock

“Just let me take care of them, and then I’ll make sure nopony else bothers us tonight, okay?”

Celestia sighed. “Okay.”

— — Five minutes and one perturbed door-to-door salespony later — —

Two earth ponies, one green, the other light blue, wearing nice, clean, white shirts with black ties, trotted up to the most cottage-esque cottage to ever be, and stopped.

“Uhm… what’s that doing there?” Green asked.

Blue scratched his chin. “I’m not even sure what it is.”

“I think it’s a sock.”

Blue gave Green a strange look. “Why would anypony put a sock on a door handle?”

Green shrugged. “Beats me.”

“Some ponies,” Blue sighed, then shrugged. “Well, let’s get this over with.”

Knock Knock Knock

Blizzard

Adventures in Home Ownership with Sunny Skies and Dusky Sparks: Blizzard

There were no alarm clocks in the cottage; they were unnecessary. Every morning, fifteen minutes before dawn, Sunny Skies woke up. It mattered little how much sleep she'd gotten the night before, or if she'd gone to bed at all. That did not mean that she got up.

She didn't startle awake, nor rise slowly out like a blooming flower. Rather, her eyes opened with the same calm patience with which she performed most tasks.

Dusky was there, still sleeping, snug in her favorite spot between Sunny's wings. Everything seemed to be exactly as it had been every morning since they'd moved in.

Thus, she was understandably surprised when a shiver quaked from her neck to her tail.

The Sun was just starting to cast its warming rays over onto the world and through their bedroom window... or it would have been if not for the clouds that blocked it from sight.

Confused, Sunny rose from the bed, her wife bemoaning the movement before pulling the sheets tighter and falling back into slumber. Soft steps carried her to the window.

“What is the date?” she asked, a hoof touching the glass. Another shiver ran down her spine. Dusky moaned some about coffee before answering, in a very annoyed tone, that it was a Tuesday. “Correct me if I'm wrong, but it is still July, yes?”

Dusky's bed mused mane rose off the pillow. She blinked tired eyes at her lover, processing the question with a methodical slowness that spoke both of her sleep addled state and her greater than average intellect. It was during this time that the room's temperature hit her. The mild confusion gave way to intense curiosity and she joined Sunny by the window.

“But it's July.”

“I thought as much.”

“It was supposed to be seventy-six today.”

“And mostly sunny.”

Dusky collapsed against Sunny's side, as much from exasperation as to make use of her higher than average body temperature, Sunny accommodated her with a draped wing. “I don't suppose we could just...”

“No, I'm afraid not.”

“Let's just hope that they get this cleared up quickly.”

They fell into a contemplative silence, staring out across the glimmering ocean of white as it edged its way up to the glass.

– – – Day 1 – – –

Dusky glanced up from her book. Sunny was lounged on the couch with a pair of knitting needles clicking away between her feathers. The image brought a smile to her face. A comment rose up, but she didn't give it voice, content to watch and enjoy.

Being extra careful not to draw attention to herself, Dusky rolled to her hooves and crept closer. Step by careful step, she stalked her prey. Inch by steady inch, she moved in for the kill. Her legs tensed.

A white and pink blur crashed into her, assaulting her with kisses and tickles until, laughing through her tears, Dusky begged for mercy.

– – – Day 2 – – –

Sunny leaned into Dusky's back, wings encasing her as she read her book out-loud. A shiver worked through Dusky when the white wings retracted for a moment, only for her forelegs to wrap around her barrel.

Pulling her head back enough to whisper into Dusky's ear, Sunny said, “Keep reading.”

Dusky squeaked when teeth nipped at her ear.

“Keep reading.”

The wings began to shift, petting her belly and gradually worked their way down. She squirmed more and more the lower the feathers got. Dusky bit her lip, her blush darkening her cheeks.

She gasped.

“Keep reading.”

– – – Day 3 – – –

Dusky stared at the empty cupboard. “Where's the coffee?”

Sunny looked up from her cup of tea. “You finished it off yesterday.”

The door slammed shut, the lower hinge breaking off.

– – – Day 4 – – –

Click-click-click.

Click-click-click.

Click-click-click.

Dusky growled under her breath and stormed out of the room.

– – – Day 5 – – –

Sunny stared at the empty cupboard. “Dusky... where's my tea?”

“You finished it yesterday,” Dusky said, unable to keep the small amount of enjoyment out of her voice.

“Oh,” Sunny said, carefully closing the door. “I'll be back in ten minutes.”

Dusky looked up from her book. She started to say something, but thoughts of coffee interrupted her long enough for Sunny to disappear.

– – – Fifteen minutes later – – –

“Honey, I'm home, and I brought coffee!”

Dusky grinned as she turned away from the window and the army of pegasi clearing up the last of the clouds and snow banks. "Thank Celestia!"

Degrade

Adventures in Homeownership with Sunny Skies and Dusky Sparks: Degrade

Evening was just starting to set as Sunny Skies stepped through the little iron gate to the cottage. She took a moment to marvel at it, same as she did every day. A streetlamp across the way blinked on.

It needed a name.

For any other building, it would have been a ridiculous notion. Houses don't require names, don't deserve names. Some buildings do, of course, but those are almost always large buildings with almost as much history ground into their walls as into her skin. This little cottage though...

With such whimsical thoughts occupying her attention, Sunny trotted to inside. “Sparky, I'm home.”

The lack of an immediate response did not surprise her, Dusky was notorious for falling hoof over horn into a book. Then the door closed and cut off the last bit of noise pollution from the outside.

The distinct sound of running water could be heard from the kitchen.

Sunny's ear twitched.

“Dusky?” she called out, a small tremor in her voice. She sloughed off her saddlebags and the school work they contained as her hooves dragged her unwillingly deeper into the cottage.

Sunny froze. Her hoof was wet.

A thin trickle of water snaked down the hallway, disappearing into the kitchen.

Her eyes closed in a futile attempt to forestall the deluge of images her traitorous mind was conjuring up. She did not open them as she walked down the short hall to the kitchen's entrance. They remained shut while all four of her fetlocks sopped up the standing water.

“Dusky, I know you're in there.” A small whimper confirmed it. “When I open my eyes, am I going to find that there is,” her hoof wiggled, “an inch of water covering the whole floor?” Another confirmatory whimper. “Am I also going to find that this water came from you trying to fix the leaky faucet I specifically told you to call a plumber to fix?” A final whimper.

Sunny sighed. She could already picture the scene perfectly. Dusky was undoubtedly curled up in a corner, soaked from head to tail. The cabinet under the sink was most assuredly open, all its contents stored safely on the counter. Without fail, the faucet would be damaged in someway, if she were really lucky, the pipes wouldn't be.

Her eyes opened. Dusky sniffled and cowered deeper into her corner.

Long-suffering, but still full of love and neigh limitless patience, Sunny smiled, crossed the flooded floor, and wrapped her sopping wife into that special hug that only she, filled with the warmth of a summer afternoon, could. Dusky fell instantly into the embrace, burying her muzzle into Sunny's pink locks. She sniffled and sobbed, but never quite made it all the way to crying. After a minute or two, her composure returned.

“So,” Sunny started, “do you want to tell me what happened?” Dusky shook her head, still buried beneath a sea of pink. “But you're going to tell me anyways, correct?” Dusky nodded, though with a definitive reluctance.

Sunny repositioned them until they were nose to nose. With a slow, purposeful movement, she drew her tongue up Dusky's muzzle, between her eyes, and ended at the base of her horn. It wasn't a light, sensual lick meant to excite the other mare. Rather, it was a firm lap that pull at the hairs of her coat and left them drier than they had before. All the tension fled Dusky's body. More licks followed, Sunny grooming her in the old way. The practice had fallen out of favor more than two generations ago, but Sunny had many fond memories of being groomed by her mother and even her sister. She'd just started on Dusky's mane when she spoke again.

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.”

“I just… I feel…” Dusky slumped, every ounce of energy carried out of with the harsh whisper of, “Useless. I can't cook. I can't—I don't do anything. All day, I just…” She sniffed back a sob. “I thought… I wanted to help.” She fell silent for a few seconds, then whispered, “It wasn't supposed to be like this.” Her whole body sighed. “This was my idea, and I’m just…”

Celestia’s magic filled the room, and, for a short few seconds, it became a sauna. Then the window opened and all the steam fled out into the cool evening air, leaving the kitchen as dry as it had ever been.

By the time Celestia realized her mistake, it was too late, and there was a sharp flash of magenta magic…

And Twilight Sparkle was gone.

Forte

Adventures in Homeownership with Sunny Skies and Dusky Sparks: Forte

Celestia found her where she always did, in the Canterlot Archives… shelving.

Luna was already there, doing her best to quell the panicked librarians who’d fled the hurricane of books and scrolls. They spoke briefly, sharing a heartfelt, if rushed, reunion after nearly a year of being apart for the first time since Luna’s return.

Then Celestia journeyed into the storm.

She became as a second eye, her magic overtaking Twilight’s and setting order to the chaos around her. By the time she reached her wife, she had a library’s worth of tomes hovering behind her.

She wasn’t crying, which Celestia wasn’t convinced was a good thing, sitting ramrod straight as her magic continued to manipulate fully half the archive’s books. Nor did she react as Celestia sat behind her, wrapping her in wings and legs until only her head was visible through the wall of white.

“It was a stupid idea.”

“It was a wonderful idea.”

“It was selfish.”

“You thought only of me.”

“Our neighbors hate us.”

“We’ve brought them entertainment and laughter.”

“It was all a lie.”

“We’ve never been more true to ourselves.”

“We abandoned our duties.”

“We gave others a chance to shine.”

“Stop disagreeing with me.”

“Stop speaking nonsense.”

Twilight finally moved, turning her head so she could see Celestia. Only for Celestia to cut her off before she could speak.

“I am fluent in fifteen languages, three of which are long dead. I have learned to play every instrument equines have crafted, and many that they didn’t. I can paint and draw and sculpt. I have written more than a hundred novels—no I won’t tell you which ones. I am an inventor. I keep up-to-date with every field of study. I have acted in plays and directed them too. I knit and sew, and forge iron and steel.

“None of those things are my forte, My Love. They are things which I have learned, many through struggle and strife, over the course of my many, many years. It took me a year of trial and error before I made my first edible cake.

“When you found your talent, you pursued it with the same eager passion that every pony does. Now that you’ve mastered it, you find yourself looking out from your high plateau to see all those others, the chefs and artists and carpenters, and you see them doing the things they do and thinking, ‘I should be able to do that too’. And you can, but just like everypony else, you have to start at the bottom and work your way up.

“You will fail, Twilight. You will stumble and fall… and then you will stand back up and continue on. And one day you will reach the summit, only to see another plateau you have yet to master. It is a never ending road we walk, My Love, but you do not walk it alone. Come home, and let’s begin our journey.”

Dragnet

Adventures in Homeownership with Sunny Skies and Dusky Sparks: Dragnet

This is the city, Manehatten, Equestria. It’s a decent enough place, filled with decent enough ponies. But not everypony is decent. Someponies think they can take whatever they want. That’s where I come in. I carry a badge.

It was a Thursday, warm; the flower gardens just starting to show some real color. We were working day shift out of the larceny division. My partner was Chill Cannon, my name’s Friday.

We got the call late in the afternoon, more toward evening. A house in the Crescent Terrace suburb, west of the city, had been robbed. It was odd that we were being sent out there. Normally, my partner and I stick within the city limits, but we go where we are needed.

By the time we had arrived, the techs were just finishing up, the sun near the horizon.

I knew the case would be an odd one the moment I laid eyes on the house and it’s owners.

The house was a cottage. The owners were a couple, white pegasus mare with a soft pink mane and a sun cutie mark and a dark purple unicorn mare with a lighter violet mane and six white stars for her cutie mark. There was something oddly familiar about them, but I couldn’t put my hoof on it.

The responding officer met us at the gate. He was flummoxed. Apparently one of the victims was causing a bit of a stir with the crime scene techs.

He informed us that it was a standard smash and grab, probably only lasted five minutes. Looked as though there were two perps. They entered through the front door, kicking the door in and breaking the jamb. From there they ran through the house, grabbing anything that looked valuable, filling their saddlebags before leaving.

Without witnesses, there wasn’t much we would likely be able to do but wait until they tried to move the goods. In order to do that, we needed to know what was taken. Approaching the house, we were met by the two techs and the owners.

The unicorn, one Mrs. Dusky Sparks, was trying to speak with the techs, held back only by her wife, Mrs. Sunny Skies.

“Good evening ma'ams,” I said as I approached, garnering their attention. “My name is Sergeant Friday. This is my partner, Officer Cannon. Do you mind if we ask you some questions?”

“Of course, Sergeant,” said the pegasus, motioning for us to step back, away from the techs, pulling her wife along with her.

I noted how little they appeared to be distressed by the situation. Most ponies did not react so well. Mrs. Skies was calm and collected, seemingly at ease with the entire situation. By contrast, Mrs. Sparks was energetic, almost manic, I soon learned why.

“Now,” I started, “which one of you arrived first.”

“That would be me,” replied the unicorn. She then produced a scroll, presenting it to me in her magic field. “I’ve got an entire report written down of exactly what happened.”

I blinked at that, having never seen something quite like it before. Opening the scroll, I scanned its contents. It had everything, even timestamps down to the exact second. I passed the scroll to Cannon to look at. Before I could speak, she continued.

“If you’d like, I know quite a few spells that could probably help catch them. I—”

“That won’t be necessary, ma'am. Our boys know what they’re doing.”

“But I—”

Here, Sunny interrupted. “Honey,” was all she said, giving Mrs. Sparks a hard look which cowed her.

“We’ll be canvassing the neighborhood to see if anypony saw—”

Another scroll appeared. “I already did that. Two stallions were noted on the premises by our neighbors across the way. I couldn’t get a detailed description…”

I only half listened to her as I scanned the second scroll. Everything she was saying was presented in more detail there, anyway.

“We appreciate your assistance, ma'am, but you should really let us do our jobs.” She seemed to take that a little hard, but the truth was that we would have to verify all of the information either way and her interference could cause as much damage as it helped. “Do you think you can provide us with a list of—”

A third scroll, of course.

“Yes. Everything they took is here, along with the resonances matrices for a few of the more expensive items. If you give me a few days I can probably work up another list of likely places where they would try to sell them.”

“Have you considered a career as a police officer?”

Melody

Adventures in Homeownership with Sunny Skies and Dusky Sparks: Melody

Winter and all it brought had come to Equestria at last. The pegasi had been diligent in the weeks before, moving in thick clouds filled with the first snows of the season. Cold air from the north was guided south, cooling the air until the lakes and rivers began to freeze.

But that had been weeks ago, and now the season was in full swing. Not an inch of ground, save those kept clear by plow and shovel, were devoid of the glistening white snow still falling in its gentle way. Streams of smoke wafted from nearly every chimney in every house, adding streaks of grey contrast the white clouds that still blocked the sun's light.

Outside of Manehatten, in a tiny suburb easily forgotten by the world, there was one house that none who saw would ever forget. It was not large by any means, nor particularly impressive in any way. Rather, the moment one's eyes gaze upon it, it would become the symbol of what it was to be a cottage, a pure and complete representation of the concept, with its thatched roof and cross-hatched walls.

From its eaves hung tiny, multi-hued lights, now covered in ice from the daily cycle of thawing and freezing, giving them a sparkling quality that no manufacturer could hope to recreate. Similar lights were woven through the shrubs and along the stone wall that surrounded its snow covered lawn, leaving the unshoveled path still discernable by the negative space they left. Upon its door, an ivy wreath hung, with pinecones and nuts and a little red bow.

Its windows were covered in a light dusting of frost with small drifts of snow piled against the ledges. All the windows were dark, save one, where a warm orange glow poured out.

Through that window, the cottage's living room could be seen. A fire merrily burned beneath the hearth where more strings of light and streamers of evergreens drooping here and there about the mantle and the doors. Stuffed in a corner, large only compared to the size of the room, was an evergreen tree with small candles perched amid its decorated branches, their flames dancing and swaying in the not quite still air. Beside the window, a small gramophone played, its volume so low that only the melody of the Hearth's Warming carols could be heard.

Two mares laid before the fireplace enjoying its warmth. A white pegasus with a soft-pink mane and a dark-purple coated unicorn with a mane of lighter blues. The pegasus had a wing draped over the other's side, holding her tight as they both sipped at steaming mugs. The unicorn's horn glowed a sparkling violet, holding a book before her muzzle. She read from its pages, her lips whisper to her lover while her eyes scanned.

Reaching the end, she set the book aside and turned to face her partner. The lovers shared a kiss before cuddling all the closer and crossing their necks. Their eyes closed and in moments they were asleep, chests rising and falling in harmony as they dreamed.

Author's Note

Happy Hearth's Warming.

Moriarty

Author's Note

This is not my best work, sorry.

Moriarty

Adventures in Homeownership with Sunny Skies and Dusky Sparks: Moriarty

Dusky stared up at the three-story, multi-windowed, tile-roofed gothic mansion, and all she could think was that ‘it fit’. It exuded the sort of menace she’d expect from a comic book villain, somepony who wanted everyone to know they were evil. The flash of lightning in the background didn’t help.

He was in there, waiting for her.

Near the entire Manehatten police force was with her, surrounding the building and all possible escape routes. The Commissioner stood at her side, a thick, pungent cigar gripped between his teeth. He chewed the end, puffing fitfully as they watched for any signs of life.

“Ya sure about this, Dusky?” the Commissioner asked, rolling the cigar to the other side of his mouth.

“No.”

He nodded but said no more as Dusky started toward the front door. She could feel the weight of every officer’s gaze, watching her cross the lawn. This was it, the culmination of months of investigations. The greatest criminal Manehatten had ever known was in that house, and Consulting Detective Dusky Sparks was going to be the one to bring him in.

The moment she climbed the first step to the front door it creaked open. She hesitated, but only for a second, quick to brush off her nervousness and adding purpose to her stride.

Once inside, it was obvious where he awaited her, an orange glow flooding into the hallway from the last room on the left. The hardwood clicked loudly beneath her hooves, echoing through the empty house. When she reached the doorway she was greeted by a sight that, once again, was so cliched it set her back teeth on edge.

It was all too perfect. The twin wing-back chairs. The small side table set between them. The lamp, its shade low enough to ensure that light would never reach above a pony’s shoulder. The crackling fire giving everything an orangish tint. Only the cup of tea seemed out of place—a glass of brandy or scotch would have fit better.

“Good evening, Detective Sparks,” came the aged, raspy voice from the left chair.

“Professor Moriarty,” she replied, her voice as neutral as she could make it.

“Please, sit. Would you like a cup of tea?”

“No.” Sparks made no move to enter the room further. “It’s over, Professor. You’ve lost and the best thing you can do is give up.”

“Of course, my dear. Do you think I would be here if I did not heartily agree? You have won, a feat you should be most proud of indeed.” The professor’s golden aura lifted the small porcelain cup, sipping loudly once before returning it to the saucer. “Never have I found so worthy an opponent as the one I found in you. Please, sit, there is no reason that we can not speak civilly, and you must have questions.”

Sparks stepped around the chairs but did not sit, getting her first look at the professor, for all that she could see of him. He was a unicorn, white coated wearing a sharp tweed jacket. Of his cutie mark, she knew it to be a representation of the ‘golden ratio’. None of his head was visible, not that she needed to see him. She knew his look, had studied his picture for far too many hours not to fill in what the shadows hid.

“You are right. I do have one question.”

“Oh? Only one? I am uncertain how to feel about that. Is it because you have figured everything else out or are you in fact far duller than I’d thought?”

Sparks ignored the jab. “Who are you?”

Moriarty hesitated, it was almost imperceptible, but she’d been looking for it. “What an odd—”

“Don’t bother trying to deny it. You did a wonderful job, creating this persona. For a time, I even believed it, but there is no Professor Moriarty, there never was. So I ask again, who are you?”

The pony who would be Moriarty… grinned? “Bravo, Detective. Most impressive.”

“You don’t deny it?”

“Why should I? It won’t make any difference. But that still leaves the question of just who I am beneath this facade. I’ve read all about your exploits, and I am keen to witness your fabled reasoning in action. So tell me, Detective, who am I?”

“No. Either you answer now, or the police will drag it out of you.”

“Hardly. I could leave anytime I wished. You think this is a trap? No, Detective, this is a negotiation. You give me what I want, and I give you what you want. Now, tell me who I am.”

Sparks was not foolish enough to take his threats lightly. She’d seen the evidence of his abilities, both magical and cognitive.

“The obvious answer is a changeling.” Moriarty started to interrupt, but Sparks didn’t let up. “That is obviously not the case. Even ignoring your magic aura, you have no close associate nor have you garnered any love by your deeds.

“Discord would not play a single part for so long, nor would his schemes be so methodical. I briefly considered an alchemist, but we found none of the necessary components in any of your hideouts.”

“Ah, but you have yet to search this one.”

Sparks nodded. “True, but the amounts required… no, it’s simply not feasible. You must be a unicorn, and a talented one at that.”

“Why thank you.”

“Well connected too,” she continued, ignoring his comment, “to craft so flawless a persona. A magically adept noble with far too much time on their hooves. There are only so many ponies who could fit.”

“Are you stalling?”

Dusky ignored him again, her mind already sorting through the list of possibilities. It was a simple matter of elimination, and one she’d done more than a few times before. And once more, she came up empty. There was no pony who could have done everything Moriarty had… except, perhaps herself…

Dusky’s jaw dropped. “Tia?”

Moriarty smiled, a real smile, one filled with warmth and pride. Sliding from the chair, Celestia stepped forward and drew Twilight into an embrace. “I knew you would figure it out. I am so proud of you!”

“But… but… No!” Twilight pushed her away, retreating back so she could look Celestia in the eye. “No! Celestia would never do all those things! She—”

“What things?” Celestia asked, her voice light with that ‘I know something I’m not saying’ tone that drove Twilight wild.

“The robberies. The extortion. The fraud and, and all the other laws you— he broke!”

“Oh, that was half the challenge. Manehatten is full of such wonderful actors, and the police department was ever so helpful.”

“Are you saying it was all fake? That I spent the last six months chasing a phantom? But there were crime scenes!”

“All expertly staged by the best Manehatten has to offer… with some of Applewood’s movie crews flown in for support.” Celestia’s voice shifted, becoming serious. “More importantly, you were not chasing a phantom. You were chasing me. And you were the first to find me. I could not be more thrilled to have lost.”

Pacing, Twilight struggled to take all of that in. It was insane, completely and utterly insane. The amount of work required, the number of ponies involved, the histories and paper trails. It…

“The first? You mean you’ve done this before?”

“Well, not this specifically. Luna’s was a cult back in the five hundreds. I had to cut hers short when she started to take things a little too seriously. For Cadance I set up a wonderful conspiracy full of spies and politics. She came so close to figuring everything out too, but decided that it was all in her head after the third month, quite disappointing actually.”

Twilight stared at her for a moment, completely dumbfounded. “I remember that. Mom and Dad had to hire a new foalsitter because Cadance and Shining were never available. She was horrible.”

Celestia’s head drooped. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” She was quiet for a few seconds, then peeked up. “You aren’t mad, are you?”

“I…” Twilight started, prepared to be furious, but found something far worse. “The last few months have been wonderful. I felt useful again. Now you tell me that I’ve been wasting time… playing a game?”

Celestia recoiled. “What? No, my love. You have not been wasting your time. You solved half the real cases the M.P.D. had. I made sure that ‘Moriarty’ didn’t keep you from doing real work.”

“But why do it at all?”

“Because you were bored.”

“I… I was?” Twilight asked, not even sure if it was supposed to be a question.

“You were. You were so good that no real case could hold your attention, and I hated to see you like that. I thought you would enjoy the challenge.”

Twilight was fell quiet, her head dropping to stare at the floor while she thought. She thought about her first two months working with the police, the cases they sent her way and how quickly she’d solved them. She thought about the months that followed, where she dispensed those cases even faster so she could focus on the ones where she suspected something more sinister, eventually evolving into Moriarty.

“I did. It was fun, exciting even. It’s just kind of depressing to find out that it was all staged. And now that it’s over…” Twilight sighed.

“Over? It’s not over yet.”

Twilight’s head snapped up. “Wh—what?”

Sunny Skies put on a coy grin and held up her hooves. “I’ve been a very naughty pony, haven’t I? I need to be punished…”

Rap

Adventures in Homeownership with Sunny Skies and Dusky Sparks: Rap

“That is it! I’m going over there right now!”

“What? Now? But it’s late.”

“Exactly!”

— — — — — —

Rap Rap Rap

Dusky’s head shot up, her left ear twitching toward the door. “Did you hear that?”

Sunny Skies groaned and mumbled something unintelligible, her voice laden with pleading distress.

“Shhh!” Dusky said as she wiped her muzzle with a forehoof. “I’m trying to listen. I think somepony is—”

Rap Rap Rap

“—at our door.”

Sunny Skies moaned something that may or may not have been both a curse and a threat of terrible retribution if her partner did not return to the task at hoof and completely forget that they even had a front door.

“Who would be at our door at this hour?”

Sunny’s reply came in the form of a series of movements that amounted to little more than shifting her weight from side to side and causing the bed to squeak, yet somehow managed to convey the message, “Who the buck cares? We’re busy.”

A towel flew out of the bathroom in a magenta field to finish the job of cleaning Dusky’s muzzle as she trotted toward the door. “I’m going to see who it is.

Recognizing a lost cause when she saw one, Sunny whinnied in defeat and did her best to relax, which, given her current predicament, was not an easy task.

Rap Rap Rap

“I’m coming!” Dusky called, moving down the short hall toward the door. An incomprehensible call from the bedroom made her look back over her withers and add an unamused, “Har. Har. Har.”

Opening the door, she came face-to-face with her neighbor. He did not look best pleased. Undeterred, she smiled sweetly at the grumpy stallion. “Hello, Prof. Sycamore. Can I help you with something?”

"Where's your marefriend?"

Sparks’ brow knit into a frown. "My wife is a little tied up at the moment, not that it’s any of your business."

"Well, I guess I'll have to start with you,” he went on, either failing to notice or care about the glare sent his way. “I doubt her Royal Highness would appreciate her name being screamed in such a vulgar context...

— — — — — —

A few minutes later, out of the corner of her eye, Sunny watched her wife hobble back into their bedroom. With shuffling steps, she sat beside Sunny at the edge of the bed, a look of abject horror on her face. Nuzzling her flank, Sunny looked up at her love with questioning eyes.

Dusky ran a hoof through Sunny’s mane, her eyes still lost in some middle distance. “I think we need thicker walls.”